As anyone will tell you, it’s the community that makes The New Century School what it is. Each individual community member offers their gifts to form a whole that’s greater than the sum of its parts. Even so, each single part is pretty special in its own right. Enter LaTriese Sussman. To know her is to know a hug in human form—she truly is the embodiment of warmth.
Born and raised in Baltimore, Ms. Sussman has spent her entire life caring for others. “I get it from my mother,” she explains. “She was the one who would give you the shirt off her back, and she passed it down to me as well.” That spirit of generosity has defined her path, from babysitting at age 12 to raising five children of her own, now ranging from ages 12 to 29, plus helping take care of her four grandkids, ages 1, 3, 6, and 11. Her brother jokingly calls her “that little old lady who lived in the shoe with all the kids.”
But it was her personal journey with one of her sons that truly shaped her calling. Born with two holes in his lung, he wasn’t getting adequate oxygen to the brain, leading to a disability. Doctors warned that life would only get harder as he grew older. “But as a parent, you’re like, ‘I can do it,'” she recalls. “And there were times I had those down days, those blue days. But I was like, ‘Nope,’ and I kept pushing for him.” Ms. Sussman, already deeply compassionate, became a fierce advocate for children, learning to balance love with the toughness her son needed to navigate the world. “I babied my son, and then I thought about it. I was like, ‘When I’m gone, the world’s not going to baby him.’ So I started to encourage more independence.” Her approach worked. Today, at 24, her son is employed and thriving. “When people say, ‘Maybe he’s not on the spectrum,’ I tell them he is, but it’s not who he is,” she says proudly. She taught him a lesson she now shares with every child who needs extra support: “Just because you’re on the spectrum, you don’t let it define you.”
Finding Her Place at TNCS
Back in 2020, Ms. Sussman’s childhood friend Jatiya Richardson worked at TNCS and thought TNCS would be a good fit for Ms. Sussman. When she visited the school, she felt right at home and applied for a position. She was hired and immediately made her warm presence felt, despite the many challenges brought by the pandemic. She was the after care teacher who stayed late with the last child when a snowstorm would delay pickup. In fact, in her first 2 years, Ms. Sussman never took a single day off. The administration eventually had to insist she take time away. “I’m always here an hour early,” she explains. “My son has to be at school at 7:30, so I drop him off and come straight to work because it doesn’t make sense to go home at that point.” She sits in her car drinking coffee—unless someone needs something, in which case, she’s ready.
Floating Like a Butterfly
As a “floater,” Ms. Sussman moves throughout the school wherever she’s needed—covering for absent teachers, assisting in classrooms, and providing support to both staff and students. “It’s always good to have a second pair of hands,” she says. “I take floating to the max.” The role suits her need for constant movement and her desire to help everyone. It’s fun to think of her “pollinating” students and staff in this way with warmth, care, and compassion.
When a student is having a rough day, for example, Ms. Sussman steps in with a calming presence. “You have to find out what’s wrong. We all have stuff going on at different times,” she explains. “Sometimes that means taking a child for a walk to help them reboot. Other times, it means giving teachers a bathroom break or a break in general. I know what it’s like to just need a break.”
She’s also mastered the art of helping children sleep during rest time. When teachers return to find their entire class peacefully napping, they ask in amazement, “What did you do?” Her answer is simple: “Nothing. I just sit with them and comfort them.” Ms. Sussman treats each child according to their individual needs, a skill honed from raising her own family. “All my kids—at home and at school—understand I treat you according to what you need, not what you want.” Her secret to maintaining relationships through tough moments? “After you give instruction, whether it’s good or bad, always tell them you love them. That way they come back. That’s why none of them stay mad at me. I’ll be like, ‘You can’t do that. No, we’re not having that. But I love you.'”
Parent Liaison
This school year marks a big transition for Ms. Sussman at TNCS, although not a surprising one. When she naturally began greeting parents and sharing updates about their children’s days before they even asked, TNCS recognized her gift and formalized her role as parent liaison. She understands the anxiety of first-time parents. “You’re dropping your kids off with people they don’t know and who don’t know them. Will they know what to do if the child cries or just doesn’t want to talk?” So she breaks the ice, opening with, “Well, I’m a mom, too.” When she mentions her five children and four grandkids, parents immediately relax. “How did you do it? I don’t know how you do it,” they ask. Her response: “It’s easy. It’s fun.”
In her first month and a half as parent liaison, Ms. Sussman, true to form, took it upon herself to come in early every morning, so she could personally greet each arriving family: “Good morning, how are you? Have a wonderful day.” She understood the morning struggle—she’d been that parent herself. “I used to hate mornings,” she admits. But her cheerful presence transformed other people’s days. One parent told her, “Do you know that just saying good morning changed my whole day?”
On Fridays, she would play celebratory music. “It’s Friday. We made it. Do a dance or something.” She doesn’t even let rain stop her. On one rainy day, a parent asked why she wasn’t using an umbrella. Her response is classic Ms. Sussman: “I don’t need an umbrella because I’m covered with love. The rain doesn’t bother me.”
Beyond greetings, Ms. Sussman actively helps children develop social skills. We all know that kids can “say the darndest things,” but she encourages them to open up, even if what comes out is unexpected. “This is them starting a conversation. They’re not saying anything to hurt anyone.” She helps shy children make friends by facilitating introductions, teaching them how to initiate conversations naturally.
Her efforts ripple outward. Parents who’ve never met her come to the school asking for “Ms. Sussman” based on recommendations from other families. Children she has only minimally interacted with on a given day go home talking about her constantly. “My child talks about you 24/7,” parents tell her.
To the children themselves, she occupies whatever role they need. “You’re like grandma, you’re auntie, you’re mom,” they tell her, “everything all at once.” She tells parents at pickup, “When you leave them here with me, they’re my babies. You come back, you get them, they’re your babies again.”
“Doing it for the Kids”
What drives this relentless dedication? “Somebody has to take care of the kids. Somebody has to be here for the kids, and somebody has to be here for the parents as well.” She tries to instill this philosophy in everyone around her: “Let’s do this for the kids. Let’s look out for the kids.”
Ms. Sussman says she draws inspiration and motivation from her colleagues. “Seeing somebody do good work makes you want to do even more.” She makes sure such dedication doesn’t go unnoticed, believing recognition from the heart matters.
At home, she extends the same care she gives at school. Her house is completely kid-friendly, a safe haven where visiting children never want to leave. When parents bring their kids over, she tells them, “You relax. I’ve got this.” In her spare time, her own children and grandkids pile into her room to watch shows together—they’re “9-1-1 fanatics” in the Sussman household.
Even delivery drivers feel her warmth. She greets UPS workers and food delivery people, offering them water and making them smile. One driver told her, “Every time I come here, you got me smiling.” Her response captures her entire philosophy: “That’s just the way I like to be—happy.”
She has a simple, yet profound message for parents (anyone, in fact): “If you need me, just come find me. I’m always here. We just need people to care about one another more and give back more.”
In LaTriese Sussman, TNCS has someone who embodies that vision every single day—one greeting, one hug, one calmed child at a time.
