Walk into the in-school suspension room at Cairo Junior/Senior High School, and you might expect to find silence or stern faces. But with Lolita Houston in charge, what you’ll actually find is conversation, laughter, and a steady rhythm of encouragement. Her classroom is unlike any other in the building because it serves three distinct purposes at once—in-school suspension, credit recovery, and advisory—and Lolita brings all of herself to each of them.

“I tell the kids all the time, we don’t know what anyone went through before they got here,” she says. “So even if they’re in trouble, I don’t treat them badly. I talk to them. We calm down. Then we get to work.”

Her days start early—emails, morning greetings, and a quick check-in with the students who drift in before first bell. By second hour, she’s helping sophomores with online math lessons. Fourth hour brings her “Edgenuity kids,” juniors and seniors who are making up credits to graduate on time. Then comes her advisory class, where she teaches life skills like résumé writing, job applications, and college preparation. Between all of it, she’s counseling, mentoring, and nudging students back on track.

Her ability to connect with students—especially those struggling—comes from personal experience. Born in Joliet and raised partly in Detroit, Lolita moved to Cairo at fourteen. She dropped out of high school in the early 1990s and later earned her GED in 1998. “I didn’t want to be another statistic,” she says. “I had my kids watching me. My oldest son got in trouble one day and said, ‘Mama, you dropped out and you’re doing fine.’ I realized right then that I had to be the example.”

She went on to earn an associate degree from Shawnee College and a bachelor’s degree in sociology and social work from Ashford University. Over the years, she taught adult education for Shawnee College, helping individuals with developmental disabilities and mental illness learn practical life skills like reading, cooking, and cleaning. “I had one student who just wanted to learn to write his name in cursive,” she says. “Another just wanted to drive. Those things we take for granted can mean the world to someone else.”

Lolita briefly worked in family counseling and then with JAMP Special Education Services, where she supported students with behavioral challenges. That background in counseling is still central to how she teaches today.

Her commitment to students goes well beyond academics. She believes relationships and respect are the foundation for everything else. “I tell them, I respect you, so I expect respect in return,” she explains. “A lot of adults forget we were once kids, too. Times are different, but kids still need the same thing—to know someone cares.”

Last year, she even stepped in as a language arts instructor for seventh and eighth graders until a permanent teacher was hired. “I loved it,” she says. “We read plays, wrote our own, and performed them. My kids even did a routine of The Temptations’ My Girl with full choreography.” She laughs, remembering the joy of watching her students light up with confidence. “I love reading and theater—anything creative that helps kids express themselves.”

Her empathy is also grounded in family. Lolita helps care for her sister Patricia, who is developmentally disabled, and she wanted a job that kept her close to home after their mother passed away from COVID-19. “We keep her routine as much as possible,” Lolita says. “That stability matters.”

Now in her role as a permanent substitute teacher, Lolita says she’s exactly where she needs to be. “I want to help everybody I can,” she says. “As long as God lets me, I’ll be here.”

Her message to students is simple and powerful: stay in school. “I tell them all the time—a GED is hard to get,” she says. “You’re better off staying in and finishing. I know, because I did it the hard way.”

Lolita’s voice softens when she talks about the future. “I want to be at their graduations,” she says. “I want to see college graduations. I want to cry happy tears. I want to be proud.”

And as she looks around her classroom—where students are learning, reflecting, and sometimes just taking a breath—she knows she already has plenty to be proud of. “Everybody just needs somebody to talk to,” she says. “Whether they’re in trouble or not. I try to be that somebody.”