Learn.

I don't always get a chance to simmer in my own learning as a teacher.
Perhaps because the majority of our learning as adults is done OTF.

We learn about the human experience as we are experiencing it.
The best part of being a teacher is learning.

The best thing we can do as humans is to be open to new adventures.

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I started this post around this time last year.
I don't know where I was going with it, exactly
What I thought about learning.
And wanted to share with you?

But it seemed to fit right here in April 2020.
The post right below this - is about taking a new job.
Leaving Newton.

It shouldn't shock ANYone from that post, that after a few months, it was time to come home to Newton School.

I learned A LOT while I was away and was BEYOND thrilled to return to my 2nd - now 3rd graders in January.

We learned a lot together for three months.
And then, on Friday, March 13th.
We said, "Goodbye," for the very last time.

I learned that learning online is a lot of work.
And it pulls at my heartstrings.
But I'm so grateful they are mine for the next few weeks.

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I came home -to Newton - to be safe.
It's challenging to talk about learning about safety as an adult.
But in the setting of a school - I learned that safety - is something to regard highly.
I learned that sitting idly by watching prejudice, injustice, and inhumane treatment of students of color - is just - not my thing.

I remember one of the last "conversations" I had with an adult at my former school, "Let me say what you just said to me, back to you, you want these all to be different? But not MY kind of different."

"Yes," she nodded, "exactly."
I knew then, as she left my room, it was time to go.

Because I knew a place where MY kind of different WAS valued.
Accepted.
No - embraced.
It was night and day packing up my 5th-grade classroom and leaving.
And returning, in the dark to Newton.
Ms. Goodwin in comfy clothes, awaiting my arrival.
Welcoming me home.
Showing little concern for the amount of stuff being unloaded.

I learned in that moment - that my safety as an educator of color, and that of my students - is more important than a paycheck.

---

Virtually learning continues to broaden my horizons as an educator.
It is challenging in new ways.
Rewarding in new ways.
Painful in new ways.
There are parts of this time in our world that the inequity it stifling.
STIFLING.
In a way that I can't really articulate.
Inequity - not of technology - but of a poverty level most in our world can not comprehend.

I learned that we can ALL do hard things. We must continue to put our minds to work - together. We must continue to see our students, even if we can't see our students.

I also learned, something I already knew, is more true than every before.
Love.
Love is the answer.
I love my students more than I can articulate right now.
Old and New.
And I will be here - no matter what.

Saying Farewell, and Saying Hello.

I am the literal worst at saying goodbyes.
As in.
The worst.

Avoid it at all costs.
If I could go quietly into the setting afternoon sun.
And leave no footprint,
I would.

As a child of trauma, it's safer.
Goodbyes are scary.
Unknowns are scary.
As an adoptee, I spent my entire childhood trying to be "enough" so I'd never have to say goodbye again.

Saying goodbye is scary.
What will it mean?

Will there be a hello?

The last six years as a teacher at my little Disney World of Elementary Schools, Newton School, in Greenfield, MA, have truly been some of the greatest years of teaching - ever.

The.
Best.

When I interviewed with Ms. Goodwin - there was a feeling in the air.
Something Electric.

These were my kind of kids.
This was where I was meant to be.
And that feeling was how on October 28th, 2013, I started in a tiny room at the end of the hall.
Two classrooms later.
And so many life changes later.
I find I need to be closer to home.

I grew up in Westfield, and for the first few years, the hour commute was not a problem.

This past May, one of my crazy incredible Mamas was diagnosed with Breast Cancer.
A few days later my Matriarch Nana Ruth, celebrated her 97th birthday - still living on her own.

And the days of traveling over an hour to get there seemed to be leaving less and less time.
Of which there was less and less.

It became imperative to work and live closer to home.
And be available for dinner nights with Nan and appointments with Mama Lin.

When a position in my dream grade opened in West Springfield, I was reticent.
I wasn't sure it was for me.
Sure, the school building was familiar; my Mama Lin had been the secretary when the building held West Springfield's Middle School,
But.
To leave Newton.
I'd have to find something.
That gave me that Electric Feeling.

As I sat in the hallway before my interview.
A tardy Dad and kindergartener looking son took the corner.
He smiled wide, "Hola! Tu hablas espanol!?"
I smiled and explained, in my best broken Spanish, that I had been adopted, from Chile.
And my Spanish was Spanglish at best.

He was, in short, so excited.
"Please, stay here, I will be right back."

Of course, I couldn't, I hustled into the interview room packed with incredible women.
And had an Electric interview.
As I sat in my car later I thought back to the Dad, and his son.
These are my people...too.
I thought.
These are my people, too.

When the offer came through, I gave it a lot of thought.
My dear friend Ms. Warren told me to make a pros and cons list.

Family, I told her, will always trump the cons side.
And so, I accepted a position.
In fifth grade.
At the Coburn School.
In West Springfield.

I'm nervous.
And excited.
SO very excited.
And heartsick to say goodbye.
And grateful to say hello.

This sixth year at Newton has been THE ABSOLUTE BEST.
2nd grade is my jam.
These 19 kiddos have been the greatest.
We had SO MUCH FUN.
Learned a ton.
And they are SO READY to go hang with Mrs. Lagoy and Mr. Stone.
And I will miss them TERRIBLY.
But.
As I preach, so I practice:
Dream big.
Follow those dreams.
Look over the precipice.
Leap.
Make the jump.
Trust.
It's going to be great.

Back when I was in 2nd grade, Mrs. Jean Carrigan, may she be resting in peace, read aloud Miss Rumphius and I remember so deeply the words that were shared in the message of the book:

Now, I know I'm no Lupine Lady.
But.
I like to think the little pieces of me I'm leaving behind continue to make the world of Newton a little more beautiful:
A little lending library on the playground.
A blow-up movie screen for movie nights.
12 Chromebooks and a Chromebook cart.
A whiteboard.
A bulletin board.
Tables.
Stools.
Benches.
A day with Jaime from Cosmic Kids.
Sweatshirts.
T-shirts.
Books.
And so much love are all being left behind to be shared.
And used by my forever school family.

When I became a teacher, a school as incredible as Newton, was just a dream.
Six years later, I'm glad it continues to be a place of magic and a real hidden gem in the gorgeous town of Greenfield.

I'm thrilled to be returning to the Westfield Area, though not as a Bomber, but a Terrier. :) <3

#ISeeMe.

I posted this in September of 2018:

You'd think it's just a picture using the markers we received from Donorschoose.org for our thank you package.

You'd think that.
It's cute, right?
But.

It wrecked me today.
In the best way, a teacher can be wrecked.

Zoey is 7.
And drew this beautiful picture during free draw.

It's me.
It's her.
It's us.

And we're clearly LOVE-ing life.

It's her beautiful hair, and my straight, short new hairdo.

And it's two people of color.
One 7.
One 35.

I had to wait until I was 18.
I had to wait until I was 18.
I had to wait until I was 18.
I had to wait until I was 18.
I had to wait until I was 18.
I had to wait until I was 18.
I had to wait until I was 18.
I had to wait until I was 18.
I had to wait until I was 18.
I had to wait until I was 18.
I had to wait until I was 18.
I had to wait until I was 18.
I had to wait until I was 18.
I had to wait until I was 18.
I had to wait until I was 18.
I had to wait until I was 18.
I had to wait until I was 18.
I had to wait until I was 18.
I had to wait until I was 18.
I had to wait until I was 18.
I had to wait until I was 18.

To have a teacher, who looked like me, stand at the front of a lecture hall.

In third grade, I scrubbed my skin every night hoping I'd be just a little lighter.

I chopped off all my kinky hair hoping I'd somehow fit more.

I yearned to be seen.
By someone.
As worthy.
And yet no teacher could see through their whiteness and privilege long enough to see...

Me.

I often talk about that first day of Women's Studies 187, the day Alex Deschamps took to the stage, in her high heels, and beautiful hair, and Dominica accent, and I realized, for the first time, that I wanted to do THAT.

Because I saw myself for the first time that day.

I am honored to be a teacher of color for the Greenfield Public Schools.

#wecandobetter

#wehavetodobetter
#latinaandproud
#brownandproud
#thisskinIwear

And to think, you thought it was just a thank you for a box of thin line markers. <3

*Edited to add: Contrary to what is pictured, in no way, was I wearing a see-through dress...to school. I mean, yes, it was over 100 degrees, but, my skirt was appropriately covered in flowers. 

---

Today, Google, Some AMAZING INFLUENCERS, and Donorschoose.org launched the #ISeeMe Initiative.

And I don't really know what else to say.

I know Michael Jackson's YOU ARE NOT ALONE is blaring in my mind, with mind movies of Lavar Burton bursting into our room, lol.

I know my kids are proud to be a part of an incredible movement.

And I know 2nd grade me.

The one desperate to be enough, heard, in the timbre of Stephen's incredible film: You. Are.

#ISeeMe

To:)