When Gloria Clayton first answered an ad in the paper more than 30 years ago, she couldn’t have known it would set her on a path that would shape countless young lives in Galesburg. With her children still small and her family farm always demanding, she was simply looking for meaningful work that would match her family’s schedule. What she found was a calling.

That first job was at a special education school in Monmouth, where Gloria quickly learned how deeply rewarding the role of a paraprofessional could be. She was there to steady hands learning to hold a pencil, to cheer when a child raised their own arm, to celebrate every breakthrough that others might overlook. “When they know they’ve done something and smile, it just melts your heart,” she recalls.

When that school closed, Galesburg’s special education program expanded to meet the influx of students. Gloria interviewed for one of the open positions, catching the attention of a young first-year teacher named Orinda Benbow—who chose her because of her laugh. “It was just a little thing,” Gloria remembers, “but it connected us right away.” That laugh has carried her through decades of service, a reminder that joy and empathy are powerful tools in education.

Over the years, Gloria has worked in several elementary buildings, following classrooms as they shifted spaces. No matter the location, her focus has always been the same: helping students with special needs gain independence and confidence. She treasures the moment when a child who once needed a wheelchair manages to pull themselves up and stand, beaming with pride. She delights in seeing former students out in the community, whether they’re holding a Little Caesars sign as a part-time job or starting a career. “That’s my student,” she says, knowing she played a part in helping them find their place.

Her principal, Keri Coate of Steele Elementary, describes Gloria as “a true master at the craft.” To serve as a special education paraprofessional, Coate explains, you must be calm under pressure, flexible, and willing to adapt by the minute. Gloria brings not just skill, but heart. “Even on the tough days and the tough minutes,” Coate says, “she still approaches everything with love. How can I help more? How can I help differently? How can we reach this kid? As a principal, I could not ask for anything more”.

Gloria’s story is also one of balance—between her school family and her own. With two grown sons and five grandchildren, she cherishes weekends spent on the sidelines of football fields and tumbling mats. Her life on the farm has given her resilience and perspective: if the cows get out, you bring them back in; if a fence needs fixing, you fix it. That same mindset guides her in the classroom, where persistence and presence can change everything.

Paraprofessionals like Gloria often work quietly, without the recognition that teachers receive. Yet their value cannot be overstated. They are the ones leaning close when a student struggles, the ones modeling patience, the ones celebrating the small victories that become turning points. They are the steady strength of classrooms, the bridge between possibility and achievement.

Reflecting on her career, Gloria insists she has simply tried to see what others need, whether that’s a custodian, a colleague, or a child with special needs. “I’m not too good for anybody,” she says. That humility, combined with decades of dedication, has left an indelible mark on Galesburg schools and on the lives of students who now move through the world with more independence, dignity, and hope because of her.

Gloria still has a few years left before retirement, and she isn’t in a hurry. For now, she is content to keep showing up, bringing her laugh, her compassion, and her quiet determination to every child she serves. Because in Galesburg, the success of students is built not only by teachers and administrators, but also by paraprofessionals like Gloria Clayton—whose presence proves that love and persistence are among the most powerful tools in education.