Steve Harvey searched 20 years for his 5th grade teacher — their reunion will destroy you D
The 78-year-old retired teacher thought she was just attending a Steve Harvey show taping. She had no idea Steve had been searching for her for 20 years to say thank you for saving his life when he was just a struggling kid who everyone else had given up on. It was November 2019, and 78-year-old Mrs. Eleanor Washington was visiting her granddaughter in Chicago when she received an unexpected phone call.
A producer from the Steve Harvey Show was calling to offer her free tickets to a taping. Mrs. Washington, we’re doing a special episode about teachers who make a difference, and we’d love to have you in our audience, the producer had explained. Eleanor was flattered but confused.
I’m just a retired elementary school teacher from Cleveland. I’m not sure why you’d want me there. Oh, we have our reasons, the producer said with a mysterious tone. Would Thursday afternoon work for you? Eleanor agreed, thinking it would be a nice way to spend time with her granddaughter, Jennifer, who was a huge Steve Harvey fan.
What Eleanor didn’t know was that Steve Harvey had been searching for her for over two decades. The search had started in 1995 when Steve was just beginning to gain national recognition as a comedian. During an interview with a radio host who asked about his childhood, Steve had mentioned a teacher who had changed his life. There was this teacher, Mrs.
Washington, at Robert Fulton Elementary in Cleveland. Steve had said she believed in me when nobody else did, including myself. If it wasn’t for her, I probably would have dropped out and ended up on the streets. After that interview, Steve had tried to find Mrs. Washington to thank her properly, but the school had no forwarding address.
Teachers unions couldn’t help. Private investigators came up empty. For 24 years, Steve had carried the regret that he’d never been able to tell her how much she meant to him. The breakthrough came when Jennifer Washington, Eleanor’s granddaughter, happened to mention her grandmother’s career during a conversation with a friend who worked for Steve’s production company.
“My grandma taught elementary school in Cleveland for 35 years,” Jennifer had said proudly. “She always talks about this one student who is really troubled, but she never gave up on him. She says he reminded her of her own son.” Jennifer’s friend had immediately thought of Steve’s story. After some quick investigation, they confirmed that Eleanor Washington was indeed the Mrs.
Washington, who had taught at Robert Fulton Elementary in the 1970s. Steve’s team had spent weeks planning this surprise. Eleanor would be in the audience for what she thought was a regular episode about education. Steve would talk about influential teachers, and at the right moment, he would share his story about Mrs.
Washington and ask if she was in the audience. The plan was perfect, except for one thing. Eleanor almost didn’t recognize Steve. Eleanor Washington had taught third, fourth, and fifth grade at Robert Fulton Elementary from 1963 to 1998. During those 35 years, she had taught over 1,000 children. Many of them had difficult home lives, came from poverty, or struggled with learning disabilities.
But she remembered Brick Harvey. Brick had been in her fifth grade class in 1975. He was a skinny kid with a severe stutter who wore the same three shirts to school in rotation. His family was struggling financially after his father lost his job at the Ford plant. And young Brick often came to school hungry and angry.
Most teachers saw Brick is a problem. He was disruptive, had trouble reading aloud because of his stutter, and often got into fights during recess. He’d been held back once already and was at risk of being held back again. But Elellanor saw something different. She saw a bright boy who was frustrated because he couldn’t express himself.
She saw a child who was acting out because he felt powerless in every other area of his life. Eleanor had made it her mission to reach Brick. She stayed after school to help him with reading. She brought him lunch on days when she suspected he hadn’t eaten breakfast. Most importantly, she encouraged him to find ways to express himself that didn’t involve his stutter.
Brick, she had told him one afternoon, you have something important to say. We just need to find the right way for you to say it. She had discovered that when Brick told jokes or stories, his stutter almost disappeared. He had a natural sense of timing and an ability to make people laugh. Eleanor had encouraged this, giving him opportunities to tell stories to the class and even to perform in the school talent show.
By the end of fifth grade, Brick’s confidence had improved dramatically. His grades came up, the fighting stopped, and he started to see himself as someone with potential rather than someone who was broken. Eleanor had lost touch with Brick after he moved on to middle school. But she had never forgotten him.
She often wondered whathad happened to the funny, bright boy with the beautiful smile who had struggled so much to find his voice. Now, 44 years later, Eleanor was sitting in the audience of the Steve Harvey Show, completely unaware that the successful man on stage was her former student. Steve began the episode talking about the importance of teachers and how they shape young lives.
He shared stories from audience members about teachers who had made a difference. You know, Steve said, “Teachers don’t just teach subjects. They teach children how to believe in themselves. They see potential where others see problems.” Eleanor nodded along, thinking about her own teaching philosophy.
I want to tell you about a teacher who changed my life. Steve continued, “When I was in fifth grade, I was what you might call a troubled kid. My family was going through hard times financially. I had a severe stutter that made me afraid to speak in class. I was angry, disruptive, and most teachers had written me off as a lost cause.
” Eleanor started paying closer attention. “Something about Steve’s story sounded familiar. But there was one teacher, Mrs. Eleanor Washington, who saw something in me that I couldn’t see in myself, Steve said, his voice getting emotional. Eleanor’s hand flew to her chest. She stared at Steve in shock. “Mrs. Washington didn’t just teach me reading and math.
She taught me that I had value. She encouraged me to tell jokes and stories in class because she noticed that when I was being funny, I didn’t stutter.” She stayed after school to help me with homework. She made sure I had lunch on days when I came to school hungry. The camera operator had been discreetly filming Eleanor’s reaction.
Her face was a mixture of shock, recognition, and growing emotion. “Mrs. Washington believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself,” Steve continued. She took a angry, scared little boy who felt worthless and convinced him that he had something important to offer the world. “Without her, I never would have had the confidence to pursue comedy.
I never would have believed that my voice mattered.” Steve paused and looked directly into the camera. Mrs. Eleanor Washington, if you’re watching this, I want you to know that you saved my life. You are the reason I am who I am today. I have been looking for you for 20 years to say thank you. Eleanor was crying now, covering her mouth with her hands.
Other audience members around her were starting to notice her emotional reaction. In fact, Steve said, “I’ve been searching for Mrs. Washington for so long that I actually have my whole team looking for her. If anyone knows how to reach Mrs. Eleanor Washington, who taught at Robert Fulton Elementary in Cleveland in the 1970s.
Please contact our show. Jennifer, sitting next to her grandmother, was crying and shaking with excitement. She raised her hand. Steve, Jennifer called out. Steve. The audience member coordinator noticed the commotion and alerted Steve. “Yes, young lady in the purple sweater,” Steve said.
Jennifer stood up, pulling her grandmother with her. “Steve, this is her. This is Mrs. Eleanor Washington. This is your teacher. The entire studio went silent for a moment, then erupted in gasps and applause. Steve stared at Eleanor in complete disbelief. Mrs. Washington? Eleanor, tears streaming down her face, nodded. Hello, Brick. Steve’s composure completely cracked.
He started crying and walked down from the stage into the audience. “Mrs. Washington, is it really you?” “It’s really me, sweetheart,” Eleanor said, opening her arms. Steve embraced his fifth grade teacher in a hug that lasted almost a full minute while the audience gave them a standing ovation. When they finally separated, Steve helped Eleanor onto the stage. “Mrs.
Washington, I cannot believe you’re here,” Steve said, wiping his eyes. “Do you remember me?” “Of course I remember you, Brick,” Eleanor said using his childhood name. “You were one of my special ones. I always wondered what happened to that funny little boy who could make the whole class laugh.” “Mrs. Washington. I need to tell you something.
Steve said, “Everything good in my life started in your classroom. You saw something in me that nobody else saw. I saw a bright, talented boy who just needed someone to believe in him,” Eleanor replied. “And look at you now. I am so proud of you, Brick.” Steve turned to the audience. “Ladies and gentlemen, this woman changed my life.
When I was 10 years old, stuttering and struggling and feeling worthless, she told me I was special. She told me I had gifts. She made me believe I could be somebody. He looked back at Eleanor. Mrs. Washington, I need to ask you something. Why? Why did you see something in me when other teachers couldn’t? Eleanor smiled. Because you reminded me of my own son.
He struggled in school, too. Had some of the same challenges you did. I saw him in you, and I thought, “This child needs the same love and encouragement I wouldwant someone to give my boy, your son. How is he doing?” Eleanor’s expression grew sad. I lost my son in Vietnam in 1971. He was 19.
But you know what, Brick? Having students like you helped heal my heart. Every time I helped a struggling child succeed, it was like honoring his memory. Steve was crying again. Mrs. Washington, you were dealing with your own grief and you still found the energy to save kids like me. Saving kids like you saved me, Eleanor said simply.
Steve stood up and addressed the audience. I want everyone to understand what Mrs. Washington did. She didn’t just teach me academics. She taught me self-worth. She taught me that my voice mattered, that my stories had value, that someone believed in me. He turned back to Eleanor. Mrs. Washington, I have spent my entire career trying to live up to the confidence you showed in me.
Every time I step on a stage, every time I encourage someone else to pursue their dreams, I think about the teacher who first told me I was special. Eleanor was beaming. And look what you’ve done with your life, Brick. You’ve brought joy and laughter to millions of people. You’ve encouraged so many others to follow their dreams.
I always knew you were going to do something special. Steve pulled out an envelope. Mrs. Washington, I want to do something for you. You gave me the greatest gift anyone has ever given me. You gave me self-belief. I want to give you something in return. Oh, Brick, you don’t need to give me anything. Seeing what you’ve accomplished is gift enough. Mrs.
Washington. This is a check for $50,000. I want you to have it as a small token of my gratitude for saving my life. Eleanor gasped. Brick. I can’t accept this. Yes, you can. And there’s more. I’m also going to establish the Eleanor Washington Foundation, which will provide resources for teachers who work with struggling children and scholarships for kids who need extra encouragement to believe in themselves.
The audience was on their feet again, cheering and crying. But most importantly, Steve said, “I want you to know that you have been my hero for 44 years. You are the reason I never gave up. You are the reason I learned to use my voice to help other people. You didn’t just change my life. You changed the lives of everyone I’ve been able to help because of the confidence you gave me.” Eleanor hugged Steve again.
I’m so proud of you, Brick. You turned out to be exactly the amazing man I always knew you could be. 6 months later, Eleanor returned to the show for a follow-up episode. The Eleanor Washington Foundation had already provided grants to 200 teachers working with atrisisk children and scholarships to 50 students who reminded them of young Brick Harvey.
Mrs. Washington, Steve said during that follow-up, you taught one struggling kid in Cleveland 44 years ago. Now, because of the foundation that bears your name, you’re still teaching struggling kids all over the country. Your impact just keeps growing. Eleanor, now a celebrity in the education world, smiled.
You know, Brick, I think this was all part of God’s plan. I was meant to teach you, and you were meant to grow up and help even more children than I ever could have reached on my own. Steve kept a photo from that reunion on his desk, the moment when he and Mrs. Washington first embraced after 44 years.
Next to it was a handwritten note from her that said, “I always knew you were special, Brick. Love, Mrs. W.” Eleanor Washington passed away peacefully in 2021 at age 80, surrounded by her family. Steve spoke at her funeral, telling the packed church about the teacher who had saved a stuttering, struggling 10-year-old and changed the trajectory of his entire life. “Mrs.
Washington taught me that one person who believes in you can change everything,” Steve said through tears. “She didn’t just teach me how to read. She taught me how to dream. She didn’t just help me find my voice. She taught me how to use that voice to lift up other people.” The Eleanor Washington Foundation continues to operate today, having helped thousands of struggling students find their own voices, just as Mrs.
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