The first thing you notice about seventh grader Lacey Neely is that she is not shy—not once she’s comfortable, and especially not when she’s talking about something important to her. She walks into a room with bright eyes, a quick smile, and the kind of honesty that makes people instantly like her. But what stands out even more is the confidence she’s grown into over the past few years, confidence that shows up every time she teaches her teachers how to teach her.

Lacey has significant hearing loss, something she’s actually had her whole life, even though no one realized the extent of it until about fourth grade. Before then, parts of conversations just slipped past her—certain tones, certain frequencies, certain pieces of words she couldn’t quite catch. Once she received her hearing aids, the world became fuller and clearer. Learning became easier. Speech became easier. And Lacey began to understand just how much she had been missing.

Her hearing aids are bright, colorful, and—by her own description—very cool. She’s proud of them, and she should be. They’re red with inserts that fit perfectly into her ears. She knows how to put them in, take them out, clean them, and care for them. And even though she sometimes has trouble telling left from right when she’s in a hurry, she can manage them on her own with confidence she didn’t always have.

Every year, Lacey gives a presentation to her new teachers. She works with her hearing specialist from JAMP to prepare materials, and she shows teachers the diagram of the frequencies she can hear and the ones she can’t. She explains her sound system—how each teacher wears a microphone, how their voice goes directly into her hearing aids, and why she needs that microphone turned on during lessons. She also explains what not to do, like letting another student grab the mic and yell into it, something she makes very clear she does not appreciate.

The presentation includes a video about hearing loss and a detailed explanation of how her equipment works. She even shows them the special system that connects to her computer so she can hear lessons and videos clearly. It’s a lot of responsibility for a seventh grader, but Lacey owns it.

She doesn’t just teach teachers, either. When she was younger and had a single elementary classroom, she presented to her classmates as well. These days, she usually waits for kids to ask questions, but she’s always ready to explain when someone is curious. She’s proud of what her hearing aids allow her to do, and even prouder of the knowledge she now shares.

Her biggest supporter at school is district social worker Amanda Harshman—someone who has known Lacey since Pre-K. The two are close enough that Lacey jokes, “Ms. Amanda knows everything about me,” and it’s not far from the truth. Amanda has seen Lacey grow from a quiet preschooler into a confident seventh grader who teaches adults how to understand her needs.

That confidence carries into Lacey’s dreams for the future. She wants to be a teacher—she isn’t sure what grade or what subject—but she knows she wants to help other students with hearing impairments. She wants them to have someone who understands what it feels like to hear some things but not others, to need extra tools, to need patience, to need someone who doesn’t make them feel different. She wants to be that kind of teacher.

Outside of school, Lacey’s life is full. She lives with her grandparents, who have custody of her and her younger sister. Her grandmother, Sharon Neely, worked for JAMP for many years, which means helping students runs in the family. Her grandparents also help run a local food pantry, something Lacey is proud of. She even helps out, watching how the pantry organizes food and serves families based on their household size.

School can be hard for any student, but Lacey talks about her teachers with genuine affection. She especially appreciates Mr. Waters, who helps her with everything from math to reading to extra support whenever she needs it. “He’s amazing,” she says simply. And you can tell she means it.

Lacey Neely may be just twelve, but she’s already doing something remarkable: she’s teaching the teachers. And in doing so, she’s teaching all of us what determination, self-advocacy, and a bright spirit can look like.