If you sit at a table with Taylor Cochonour, Lynn Smith, Natalie Young, and Kim Skidmore, you notice something quickly. The laughter is easy, the stories overlap, and the conversation feels less like colleagues at work and more like a family reunion. That’s because, in this case, it really is.

Kim and Natalie are sisters. Taylor is Kim  and Natalie’s niece. Lynn is Taylor’s mother. ,  Together, they represent a multi-generational thread of teaching woven right into the fabric of Martinsville.

The seeds of their calling were planted early. “I loved coming home from school and going straight to the bedroom to play school,” Lynn recalled. “I had  my brother sit down, and I’d do lessons on my little board.” Natalie nodded in agreement—she and Kim had done the same as children. Even Taylor, the youngest of the group, remembered a giant marker board in her bedroom where she switched roles between student and teacher, often with her brother drafted as her lone pupil.

It wasn’t just a game; it was rehearsal for the lives they would later choose.

All four women vividly remember the teachers who first inspired them. Taylor named Mrs. Nicholson  from her early years. Lynn lit up when recalling her second-grade teacher, Mrs. Krabbe, who once set up a special resting place for Lynn when she came down with chickenpox. “She just kept checking on me until my parents arrived,” Lynn said. “She was the picture of compassion.”

Natalie pointed to her third-grade teacher, Ms. Shotts, who taught in Martinsville for half a century and later became her colleague. “I got to teach third grade alongside her one year,” Natalie said with pride. “That was special.” Kim, meanwhile, remembered her second-grade teacher, Mrs. Lashbrook, with affection.

Different Paths, Same Calling

Though each followed a slightly different path, education was the common destination. Lynn always knew she wanted to teach. Kim began in accounting at Indiana State University but switched to education after spending a day in Lynn’s classroom. “I thought, oh my gosh, this looks amazing,” Kim said. “So I switched majors, even though it cost me another year.”

Taylor, meanwhile, pursued speech pathology. A job-shadow experience in high school set her course, leading her through a pediatric clinic in Terre Haute before she landed in Martinsville. “I loved the clinic work,” she said, “but I knew the school setting was where I belonged.”

Natalie simply smiled: “I always knew.”

First and Second Grade: Foundations of Learning

Today, Natalie teaches first grade, Kim teaches second, and their classrooms form a natural handoff. “First grade is  challenging at first,” Natalie admitted. “Most kids can’t read yet. But they want to learn, and once they catch on, it’s amazing.”

Kim nodded: “By the time they reach second grade, most of them can read, so we can take off from there. You’re not teaching every single sound; you’re helping them use it, grow with it, and really become readers.”

The two women joke about “trading students,” but there’s truth in the continuity. Students leave Natalie’s room ready for Kim’s, and both teachers carry the responsibility with joy. “You see the flower starting to bloom in first grade,” Natalie said. “And then in second, it just opens up.”

Taylor’s role as a speech pathologist takes her across the district, from pre-K to high school, working with students on everything from articulation to complex communication challenges. “ Some people think it’s just about correcting Rs,” she said. “That’s part of it, but there’s so much more—grammar, language, devices like AAC (Augmentative Alternative Communication) systems.”

She described one student who communicates through an AAC Device, selecting words on a screen just by looking at them. “It’s amazing,” Taylor said. “Even if you don’t have the motor abilities to speak, you can still share your thoughts. That changes everything.”

The conversation shifted to how screens have changed childhood. “I think it affects behavior,” Lynn said. “Kids tell me about movies they watched, and sometimes I’m shocked.” Kim added, “I don’t even know what half the games are—Roblox, Fortnite—they ask me to spell things for letters to Santa, and I have no idea what the words mean.”

Yet both agree: the fundamentals of teaching remain. “They still want attention, still want encouragement,” Kim said. “That hasn’t changed.”

A Community That Shows Up

When asked what makes Martinsville special, the four women quickly pointed beyond their classrooms. “The community is incredible,” Natalie said. “Our kids get to go on senior trips to places like New York City, Gatlinburg, and even Disney World. The community helps make that possible.”

They spoke of “Martinsville on the Move,” a group that runs a resale shop and pours proceeds into school projects and community events. They mentioned Santa’s Helpers and the volunteers behind the Lincoln one-room schoolhouse, which still serves as a living history field trip each year. “It’s all hands on deck here,” Lynn said. “It feels like a  family—everybody does their part.”

Ultimately, it comes back to the relationships—between teachers and students, between colleagues who double as family, and between the school and its community. “We’re all like family,” Kim said simply, adding, “and it extends to our PTO and administration.”

That family thread stretches across classrooms, across generations, and across the town itself. And for Martinsville, that makes all the difference.