As a teacher you can see the difference in kids who have parents who were involved. That difference by the time these kids get to the third grade is drastic.

I think my parents were happy that I'd gone to university and gotten a degree in history so they thought 'Well if acting doesn't work for him he can always become a history teacher or something.' Fortunately the acting worked out.

My younger sister had kids before I did and managed to earn a master's degree while raising them as a single parent. Now she's a brilliant second-grade teacher. I'm in awe of her ability to juggle everything and still be a great mother.

I do a lot of work with the Dyslexia Institute because for people with dyslexia who do not have parental support it is a huge disadvantage. I was fortunate because my Mum was a teacher and she taught me to work hard.

When you become a parent or a teacher you turn into a manager of this whole system. You become the person controlling the bubble of innocence around a child regulating it.

I was attending the University of Alberta. I was going to be a high school teacher like my parents. I failed - no I didn't fail a class I just barely passed. I really didn't try. It was Canadian history through the plays of the time. My God those were boring plays.

My parents were early converts to Christianity in my part of Nigeria. They were not just converts my father was an evangelist a religious teacher. He and my mother traveled for thirty-five years to different parts of Igboland spreading the gospel.

Research is starting to show that a child should be engaged at least 20 hours a week. I do not think it matters which program you choose as long as it keeps the child actively engaged with the therapist teacher or parent for at least 20 hours a week.

We know the parental support community support makes a difference. It's not just the metrics of testing and putting pressure on the schools and on the teachers.

None of us got where we are solely by pulling ourselves up by our bootstraps. We got here because somebody - a parent a teacher an Ivy League crony or a few nuns - bent down and helped us pick up our boots.