A year ago today, Winter Break 2017, I was desperately searching for reprieve. Sitting at the edge of the ocean, listening to the waves crash down on the shore, tears streamed down my face wondering how I was going to muster up the the strength to go back to work come the new year. I was lost, professionally and personally. I was consumed by the anxiety of who and what I felt colleagues, family, and friends expected me to be and do and who and what I was doing and wanted for myself (both in and outside of work), causing a tailspin of depression. Consequently I had slowly become a teacher I vowed I'd never be - one who hated showing up to work, that lost her cool at the drop of a hat - bright faced yelling out of frustration for no real reason - and created the opposite of welcoming learning environment.
As I sat on the beach that day, I knew I couldn't continue doing what I was doing - but not for just me, for my students. My students deserved either a healthy me or not me at all. Something had to change, and deep down I knew I didn't want it to be teaching. Now, a year later, having worked my way out of that deep depression, (through the help of weekly therapy) I hope to share reflections not on what I have or have not done to impact my students lives, but rather pay tribute to my students; reflecting on their actions and decisions which have in-turn changed my life, inspiring me to work towards finding healing and happiness, for them and most importantly for myself.
The post to follow will be a journaling of my continued personal journey in search of self-care, self-love, and a healthy and sustainable work-life balance as a passionate educator.
Thursday, December 27, 2018
Sunday, March 4, 2018
Scott Beigel: A Juxtaposition of Competing Emotions
Today, in NYC our Starlight family, will gather in a celebration of life of our beloved Scotty B. I imagine it will be the most of bitter-sweet reunions; a juxtaposition of competing emotions.
Since the shooting, I have been trying to wrap my mind around the horrific tragedy - both as a friend and as an educator.
As a friend I am heartbroken, angry, frustrated. I didn't know how much I missed having Scott in my life, until I found out that we would never have the opportunity to see each other again. For the past decade+, Scott was part of my past, but as anyone who has experienced summer camp knows, I always knew it only would take a phone call or a run-in on the street, to pick up where we last left off. Camp memories and friendships are never too distant. Ironically, it is Scott’s death that has also reminded me, and I imagine many of us, just how true that sentiment is. Additionally, how profound an impact those relationships had and continue to have in one another’s life. I am saddened that Scott - his joy, laughter, sarcasm, inspiration, companionship - is now only a memory but grateful to relive those memories and be reunited with so many others.
As an educator, I have been able to find inspiration from the teenager I remember Scott to be and the man I have learned he had become . Teaching has taken on a whole new perspective. Well, maybe not a new perspective but a renewed and rejuvenated one - absent of “burn-out” and inspired with hope and joy. It feels a bit uncomfortable to admit that in the wake of such a horrific tragedy, and the loss of a friend, that I would face my classroom with such joy and laughter; but it is the loss that’s inspired the joy, Scott has inspired the joy.
In the past week, each morning as I enter my classroom I say to myself, today is dedicate to Scott. In the first couple of days after the shooting I started each period saying to my students, “today I am dedicating class to my friend Scott. Although I never knew him as an educator, I imagine his classroom was filled with chaotic calm and laughter. Let’s honor his memory and the memory of the 16 other victims through our learning.”
For my students they understood, that this was my way of committing to try to keep my cool and channel my patience and LOVE.
Scott’s life, death, and memory has provided me the clarity as to what I value most about the teaching and learning of mathematics; the RELATIONSHIPS I cultivate with my students, both as individuals and mathematicians. If there is one thing I can learn from Scott, it is from his incredible ability to form relationships that were valued, trusted, and inspired/supported the growth of all parties. Scott has reminded me that the relationships I form with my students, in addition to the relationships my students are thus able to form among themselves, is the foundation to a supportive and positive classroom environment in which learning happens. In a school environment where students are reduced to mere data points and thus one that is often filled with toxicity and frustration, Scott's life and legacy will be a saving grace for me and my students as we continue to swim upstream.
Today, our Starlight family will come together #starlightstrong to celebrate the life of Scott Beigel, of a man who single handedly made all our lives better (whether he knew it or not). Though I am not there, I will be celebrating his life along side my Starlight family, today and everyday.
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Thursday, April 6, 2017
If You Can't Beat Them, Join Them.
My students have the natural tendency to tag anything in sight. In years past I used to scrub away all markings, despite the content... until I took the time to look at what I was erasing. With the exception of some inappropriate tags or notes to 'follow me' on Snapchat, most were the names of and messages to loved ones who have left this world or locked up. It was only then that I realized by ridding the tables of their tags, I was in some way also silencing their voices.
At that point I decided I was going to 'lean in' and not only allowed but encouraged my students to leave their mark. However, I quickly found the tables (and clipboards) covered only in sentiments that focused heavily on loss and pain. I wondered, how could we use the tables to not only remember but honor their loved ones? How can we find and foster hope and motivation from the loss and pain? So I began to add some of my own tags: "You are Beautiful!" "You are a mathematician" "SMILE 😀" ... and then during one class, while helping a group of students with a problem, decided to use the table as my writing surface. Since then, students have joined in - still adding sentiments towards those they love and miss but also adding their own motivational sayings or proofs of math knowledge.
Our classroom tables have become living artifacts. They capture the voices and narratives of my students, both as individuals and as a family unit.
#IfYouCantBeatThemJoinThem #MiamiAlgebraProject #Room3076 #StudentVoice #UnconventionalStoryTelling #NoneOfUsIsAsStrongAsAllOfUs!
At that point I decided I was going to 'lean in' and not only allowed but encouraged my students to leave their mark. However, I quickly found the tables (and clipboards) covered only in sentiments that focused heavily on loss and pain. I wondered, how could we use the tables to not only remember but honor their loved ones? How can we find and foster hope and motivation from the loss and pain? So I began to add some of my own tags: "You are Beautiful!" "You are a mathematician" "SMILE 😀" ... and then during one class, while helping a group of students with a problem, decided to use the table as my writing surface. Since then, students have joined in - still adding sentiments towards those they love and miss but also adding their own motivational sayings or proofs of math knowledge.
Our classroom tables have become living artifacts. They capture the voices and narratives of my students, both as individuals and as a family unit.
#IfYouCantBeatThemJoinThem #MiamiAlgebraProject #Room3076 #StudentVoice #UnconventionalStoryTelling #NoneOfUsIsAsStrongAsAllOfUs!
Saturday, March 18, 2017
I see you
I see you.
I see, you. Both
of you.
I see you, through
the wall
Built with bricks of
Loss
Pain
Failure
Distrust
SURVIVAL
I see, you. Both
of you.
Man. Child.
Stolen of
his youth
Gangster rapper. Poet.
Rhythms
& rhymes of profound insight.
Smoker. Self-medicator.
Vaccinating the disease of oppression
Instigator. Warrior.
Courageously
fighting an imposed battle
Lazy/unmotivated. Misunderstood.
Brilliance
awaiting the opportunity to shine
Entertainer. Leader.
Begging to
be seen and trusted to lead the way.
Disrespectful smart-ass. Activist.
A voice
yearning and demanding to be heard.
I see you
Who do you see?
Who is staring back at you?
Is it the same staring back at me?
I see you (or so I
think).
Now,
how do I reach you?...
Sunday, August 10, 2014
None of us is as strong as all of us!
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As I have mentioned in previous posts, a year ago I moved back home to Miami to pursue a masters degree in Urban Education. Through my program, I have had the opportunity and honor to learn from and with Civil Rights Legend, Dr. Bob Moses.
In connection to my graduate work, I recently accepted a position as The Algebra Project (AP) teacher for a cohort of incoming 9th grade students at Miami Northwestern Senior High School. AP is a nonprofit organization and curriculum, founded by Dr. Moses, aimed to improve the math skills of our country's most disenfranchised students with under-performing math scores. The goal of AP is to prepare these students for college level math for college credit at the time of graduation, and provide them the foundation for future careers in science and technology. The program also incorporates civics education, as a way to help students take charge of their lives and improve their community.
This summer I had the privilege to begin to work with 25 of my students who will be apart of The Algebra Project in the fall. Although we started out as strangers, in 3 short weeks, we came together as a cohort (or "squad" as my students now call themselves) embarking on a journey exploring the language of mathematics through shared experiences and the every day language we speak. The summer was a success; not just for my students but for me me as well, experiencing and gaining the awareness of what it means that "it takes a village." The accomplishments of this summer could not and were not achieved alone; rather rested of the collaboration, help and support of a village: Dr. Moses and another AP coach, FIU grad students, professors & The Education Effect, a group of educators from Ireland, members of a group called The Dream Defenders, and parent & community organizer and her amazing ability to help mobilize and involve the parents and community members of my students.
I would like to invite you to join the village. Please consider supporting our efforts through a donation to our DonorsChoose Project.
Join the other 39+ donors and help us fulfill our project goal before the school year starts on August 18th. There is no donation too small!
Please also check out these links to learn more about The Algebra Project and see pictures from our summer institute:
Thank you in advance for any and all your support.
"None of us is as strong as all of us!"
Friday, June 20, 2014
Decisions In Life
As I begin to close out my year "sabbatical" from the classroom, one thing has become evident: my students are the constant and driving force behind my love, desire, and inspiration to continue teaching and be a life long learner.
In addition to this blog being a place for me to share my learning and growth, I hoped it to be a platform in which my students (past, present, and future) could also share their thoughts, their insight, and their light.
I am thus honored to share with you the first contribution by a student, the inspirational voice of Marcos Tellez (UAGC c/o 2015). Thank you, Marcos.
Sunday, April 13, 2014
To "like" or not to "like?" That is the question.
Recently, on Facebook, Humans of New York posted the following picture and dialogue of a teacher:
"I teach fourth grade in Harlem."
"What's your greatest struggle as a teacher?"
"I worry a lot about the kids."
"Why's that?"
"Not all the kids. Just the ones that aren't on the 'college track.' Many of them just don't have a culture of expectation at home, and it's hard work to lift yourself out of an underprivileged situation. I actually just finished going to a trombone recital for a former student of mine. I used to coach him in hockey on weekends. He'd practice with me from 4 AM to 6 AM. Then he'd go practice trombone from 8 to 10. He did all this just so he could get into a good high school. That's what it takes, really. Hard to do without a culture of expectation."
As expected, there was an overwhelmingly positive response of support and gratitude toward this teacher, and all educators, who tirelessly and selflessly work toward helping students achieve success (especially our most marginalized students). However, while I also commend and admire this teacher's dedication, I could not get myself to "like" the post; the language this well meaning teacher used to describe his "kids," struck a chord of sensitivity. As much as I wanted to "like" the post for his work I felt that I could not do so without a caveat over his use of language in describing that many of the students "don't have a culture of expectation at home."
Even two days after seeing this post, I find myself thinking about this post, and even more, wanting to engage in a dialogue with this teacher. I am wondering what he meant by a "culture of expectation?" I am wondering how we, as a society, define a "culture of expectation?" Or more importantly, who has the authority to define a "culture of expectation?" Is it even "right" to say someone can have the authority? If we are to think that our current school system in the U.S. holds the authority, then a "culture of expectation" is equated to passing various standardized tests; which I would argue is a an extremely poor set of expectations which continuously fails to prepare our students for achieving high levels of success, academically and holistically.
I want to make clear, that in no way am I discrediting or devaluing this teacher. In fact, prior to engaging in the learning and self exploration around cultural conflicts in the classroom and education, I would, and have, used similar language. Even now, being totally immersed in the study of urban education, I continue to find myself and my advisor having to correct and alter my language. I am guilty, and not proud, of describing my students as "at-risk" or not on the "college track." I have complained that my students leave school only to go to homes that "don't care about or value education." I have called my students "lazy," "uninterested," and "unmotivated." I was/am no different than this teacher, well meaning, but naive to the cultural identity, beliefs, and value systems I have brought into my classrooms and, both consciously and subconsciously, imposed on my students.
However, what I have begun to learn, is that the deeper I authentically listen to my students, their families and communities, and the more vulnerable I become to the "unflattering light of another's angry gaze," the more I am able to put my beliefs on hold and work together to address the more underlying issues of power that negatively impact our poor children and children of color (Delpit, 1995). As educators we can not approach our students through a lens of deficit, which focuses on the 'problems' of our most marginalized groups, rather we must start with the fundamental and institutional flaws that have been created by White dominance (Howard, 2006).
"What's your greatest struggle as a teacher?"
"I worry a lot about the kids."
"Why's that?"
"Not all the kids. Just the ones that aren't on the 'college track.' Many of them just don't have a culture of expectation at home, and it's hard work to lift yourself out of an underprivileged situation. I actually just finished going to a trombone recital for a former student of mine. I used to coach him in hockey on weekends. He'd practice with me from 4 AM to 6 AM. Then he'd go practice trombone from 8 to 10. He did all this just so he could get into a good high school. That's what it takes, really. Hard to do without a culture of expectation."
As expected, there was an overwhelmingly positive response of support and gratitude toward this teacher, and all educators, who tirelessly and selflessly work toward helping students achieve success (especially our most marginalized students). However, while I also commend and admire this teacher's dedication, I could not get myself to "like" the post; the language this well meaning teacher used to describe his "kids," struck a chord of sensitivity. As much as I wanted to "like" the post for his work I felt that I could not do so without a caveat over his use of language in describing that many of the students "don't have a culture of expectation at home."
Even two days after seeing this post, I find myself thinking about this post, and even more, wanting to engage in a dialogue with this teacher. I am wondering what he meant by a "culture of expectation?" I am wondering how we, as a society, define a "culture of expectation?" Or more importantly, who has the authority to define a "culture of expectation?" Is it even "right" to say someone can have the authority? If we are to think that our current school system in the U.S. holds the authority, then a "culture of expectation" is equated to passing various standardized tests; which I would argue is a an extremely poor set of expectations which continuously fails to prepare our students for achieving high levels of success, academically and holistically.
I want to make clear, that in no way am I discrediting or devaluing this teacher. In fact, prior to engaging in the learning and self exploration around cultural conflicts in the classroom and education, I would, and have, used similar language. Even now, being totally immersed in the study of urban education, I continue to find myself and my advisor having to correct and alter my language. I am guilty, and not proud, of describing my students as "at-risk" or not on the "college track." I have complained that my students leave school only to go to homes that "don't care about or value education." I have called my students "lazy," "uninterested," and "unmotivated." I was/am no different than this teacher, well meaning, but naive to the cultural identity, beliefs, and value systems I have brought into my classrooms and, both consciously and subconsciously, imposed on my students.
However, what I have begun to learn, is that the deeper I authentically listen to my students, their families and communities, and the more vulnerable I become to the "unflattering light of another's angry gaze," the more I am able to put my beliefs on hold and work together to address the more underlying issues of power that negatively impact our poor children and children of color (Delpit, 1995). As educators we can not approach our students through a lens of deficit, which focuses on the 'problems' of our most marginalized groups, rather we must start with the fundamental and institutional flaws that have been created by White dominance (Howard, 2006).
Thus, the above post by HONY only reenforces my belief that there is a great need for all educators, especially white educators, to engage in the reality and discussion of how our own social positionality and history of dominance (white dominance) impacts the quality of education for any group of racial and cultural 'others' in the U.S. (Howard, 2006). It is not an easy nor comfortable journey, but if we are committed to providing quality education for all students, especially are most marginalized ones, I believe it is a necessary one.
Here are some good reads (in no particular oder) to start, or continue, the journey:
Here are some good reads (in no particular oder) to start, or continue, the journey:
- Other People's Children: Cultural conflict in the classroom, Lisa Delpit (1995)
- We Can't Teach What We Don't Know: White teachers, multiracial schools, Gary R. Howard (2006)
- Quality Education as a Constitutional Right: Creating a grassroots movement to transform public schools, Edited by: Theresa Perry, Robert P. Moses, Joan T. Wynne, Ernesto Cortes Jr., Lisa Delpit (2010)
- Finding Joy in Teaching Students of Diverse Backgrounds: Culturally responsive and socially just practice in U.S. classrooms, Sonia Nieto (2013)
- Pedagogy of the Oppressed, Paulo Freire (1970)
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