Eight years ago, Pam Huber never imagined herself in education. She had worked in factories and offices, and later as a floral designer at Galesburg Flower Company, a shop once owned by her brother. When the business closed, she was looking for her next chapter. An ad for paraprofessionals at Monmouth-Roseville caught her eye, and though she had no background in schools, she decided to apply. Mr. Farr called her for an interview, and soon she found herself stepping into the halls of the junior high.

Pam admits she was nervous at first. “Junior high kids are their own special, unique group of individuals,” she laughs. With three children of her own who had already passed through those years, she knew the challenges — and the unpredictability — that come with early adolescence. But what she discovered was not chaos, but joy. “I really enjoy it,” she says. “They all have their own story.”

She began as a one-on-one aide, accompanying a single student to every class. When that student moved on to high school, Pam was relieved to find an opening at the junior high so she could stay. Over the years, her role expanded. Today, she works primarily with eighth graders in special education, supporting them in their classes, helping them manage challenges, and celebrating their victories, large and small.

Her connection to students runs deep. “When you watch them struggle and then somehow find their way out of those spots with our help — that’s remarkable,” she says. “It’s one of life’s miracles.” Pam doesn’t hide her emotions in these moments; she tears up easily because she feels it so strongly. “You can’t do this job without seeing kids in vulnerable spots. And you can’t help but care.”

Pam’s care doesn’t end when the bell rings. She often receives emails from students years later, thanking her for the role she played. “This year, they’re seniors now,” she says, smiling. “It’s wonderful to know you made a difference.”

Pam is a mother of three and grandmother of seven, though one grandson tragically passed away at junior high age. That loss deepened her empathy for the young people she works with. “It ties me even more closely to this age,” she admits quietly.

Her children make her proud in their own ways — one daughter is a hospice nurse, her son studied education but now works at State Farm, and her youngest daughter is raising five children under four while attending nursing school part-time. “I think about what I made,” Pam says. “Not only my own children, but all the students I’ve worked with. You hope you helped change their trajectory.”

After school, Pam helps lead VOICES — which stands for Voices of Individuals Changing Expectations. The program runs from 3 to 5 p.m. and blends homework help with games, arts and crafts, and field trips. In the summer, it continues with expanded activities.

One of Pam’s favorite parts of VOICES is steering kids away from screens. “At first they just wanted to play on their Chromebooks,” she says. “But now, when you ask what they want to do, they say, ‘Can we play a board game? Will you play a card game with me?’” Teaching children Uno or introducing them to traditional games has become a way to connect across generations. “You discover things during those games — needs, stories — that kids would never tell you if they were staring at a phone.”

Pam is quick to defend her students from common stereotypes. “People think junior high is all fighting and behavior issues. It isn’t,” she says. “They’re not kids, but they’re not adults. Some days they feel like being children, and some days they want to be bigger than they are. They’re trying to figure that out, and we’re trying to help them become kind, caring, responsible adults.”

She sees humor and brilliance in them, too. “They’ve acquired a personality. They’re clever. They make me laugh, not like you laugh with a child, but like you laugh with an adult. It’s a remarkable age,” she says.

Pam never planned to work in education, but she now believes she was meant for it all along. Her family agrees. “They say this is the perfect job for me because I like to take care of people,” she shares. “And they’re right. This is where I belong.”

She measures her success not in titles or accolades, but in the respect she both gives and receives. “Give respect to get respect,” she says. “That’s how I live, and that’s how I work.”

In the end, Pam Huber’s story is one of transformation — not only her own, from floral designer to paraprofessional, but also the transformations she has witnessed in countless young people. And in every case, her steady presence has been part of the change.