Today was the issuance of caps and gowns for 2023 seniors at CCHS. Students had breakfast and wrote thank you notes in the morning, received awards, and then walked the halls of the elementary, middle, and high schools to be celebrated by younger students. For these two students, the elementary and middle schools were unfamiliar, as they didn’t arrive here until their 9th grade year–one of them not until March 2020, just two weeks before we started distance learning due to the pandemic. All of this makes their journeys and their upcoming graduation on Saturday that much more amazing.

I’ve been in tears off and on all day because of them (and a few others as well, who, though they were born here, mean a lot to me because I’ve been with most of them since fourth grade–that’s right, I’m lucky enough to get to watch their development). There are, no doubt, countless students in Guatemala who would love to have the opportunity to get an education in the U.S., to walk across the stage in cap and gown, and an honor cord!, but not all of them get that. A high school graduation in the U.S. is a milestone, but most students in our district know from kindergarten that they will one day receive that coveted diploma, and the overwhelming majority of them do; but for students who grew up not knowing they would even be in the U.S., much less receiving a diploma, this is a huge achievement.

I am beyond proud of these boys. They both have worked hard to get where they are today, and they have made me laugh and smile and groan and complain. I love them both with all of my heart. I watch my other students look at them and congratulate them, write them notes of congratulations, and I know that they’re imagining what it will be like for them. That these two students can help pave the way for them and show the others what is possible fills me with joy for all of the possibilities in the future.

So these young men are two of my whys. And when I travel to Guatemala this summer, I will proudly share this photo of them to all of the families I meet, including Wuilian’s) so that they will know how well these respectful, intelligent young men have shown what is possible, no matter where you come from, no matter when you arrive, no matter the previous education you’ve had or not had. Wuilian (left) only just ordered his senior ring this week, having finally decided he wanted one. When I was helping him place his order, I asked him if he wanted anything inscribed on the inside, and he said, “Si Se Pudo Burro.” And while I disagree with the Burro part, the Si Se Pudo makes me smile broadly because I think there’s a part of him who always wondered if he would get to this part. But si, se pudo. (And a deep, heartfelt thanks to his brother Esnayde, who graduated two years ago and gave Wuilian a little extra motivation to not be any less than his brother.)

Wait, there’s more

My day would’ve been beautiful just seeing these students (and several others) in their caps and gowns, but late this afternoon I received a text from a mother asking if she could bring me something to school: un pequeño detalle, she told me, just something small. I had helped her and her son out recently, really just part of the non-teaching part of my job, but for them, it was important that I had been there for them. They met me outside at 5 p.m. after I had finally sent the last student home from after-school help, and they overwhelmed me with flowers, chocolate, and an enormous gelatina (that made my mom’s jaw drop and my daughter gasp). I placed it in the car, popped a piece of jello in my mouth, and gave them big hugs. Not every day can be this gratifying, but it makes up for the other days that aren’t. Teaching is a hard job, it doesn’t pay super well, and in 2023 it’s getting harder every day, but these kids and these families will always, always be my why.

So many things have been happening lately that this is a little of this and a little of that. While this blog was designed to let people learn from my fellowship, the most important thing is the people who are the inspiration for the trip and the relationships I form with students and families that made me want to do this in the first place. So if it sometimes seems that I deviate from discussing the fellowship, it’s only because it wouldn’t be possible without the people and the relationships.

First, I received flowers and the most beautifully written thank you notes from two students (cousins) last week. I thought this act was prompted by some other teachers, the other teachers thought the notes she received were prompted by me—but this was just a random act of kindness by these girls. One of them and I also had a good laugh about how she used ChatGPT (which I introduced in class and am teaching students how to use appropriately) to help her express what she was feeling.  (I received additional notes this week from students as well as some Happy Mothers’ Day wishes; I even have a note I am not supposed to open until Sunday.)

These same girls have family in Honduras who I will be visiting in June. I found out last night that their grandfather is going to be picking me up at the airport and driving me directly to Tocoa Colon, saving me a taxi ride (and potentially be taken advantage of because I’m a Gringa) and a bus trip. They’re also going to help me visit a school there. Having them help me navigate this on the first leg of my journey makes me so grateful as it will eliminate some of the stress I would otherwise have. Then tonight I met a grandmother whose nephew is the head of immigration in the airport I’ll be flying into, and she told me to ask for him. Imagine already feeling so taken care of before even setting foot on a plane. She’s told me about some beautiful places to visit, and I regret that I probably just won’t have the time–the itinerary is tight with so many families to visit. It just means I’ll have to take another trip in the future, and that’s never a bad thing.

I’ve been in contact also with some other Fund For Teachers Fellows who will be traveling to Guatemala. They will be in Guatemala City on the same day I fly in (June 25), so we’re hoping to meet up and maybe visit a school together. In some strange twist of synchronicity, they’re from Hartford, Connecticut, which is where I last taught prior to my current job. I still have many friends in Connecticut and visit them every couple of years, so we’ve already agreed that the next time I’m in Connecticut, we can get together again.

The other notable thing is that this fellowship is all about education–it’s not a vacation. It has already taken a lot of preparation to earn the fellowship, from planning the itinerary and hunting down all of the costs associated with it (do you know what it’s like to try to estimate taxi and bus fare in developing countries?), and there’s still much work to be done. I wouldn’t be doing this if I weren’t a lifelong learner, if I wasn’t constantly trying to learn more about all kinds of things. I’m currently on week five of a Canva class and still need to sit down and watch the lesson from this past Wednesday (it’s Friday now), but I’ve been busy this week participating in webinars Wednesday, Thursday, and tonight with Pam Harris from Math is Figure-Out-Able.

Why math? Because I teach a lot of math. I had a set of parents from Guatemala (from different parts of the country) tell me a couple of weeks ago that what students learn here in middle school is what students learn there in high school. Now I’m sure there are exceptions to this–I’ve had students before who came to me with what seem to be strong educational foundations–but there’s no doubt that I see the differences, particularly in math and writing, for what students have studied in the past there versus what I know American students have studied in the past. Case in point: ninth grade students are working with data sets and had to read and create column graphs. One of my students said that she had never seen them before; meanwhile, students in our kindergarten are making them–simplistic versions of them with maybe only a couple of columns. Despite that, they are already learning to make sense of graphs at five and six years old. Ninth grade students who were born here don’t have to be taught how to read a column graph. Yet here I was helping a student understand how to read them.

So, yes, I teach a lot of math. And since I’ve been following Pam Harris on social media and started listening to many of her podcast episodes, I decided to sign up for the webinars. Much of what she covered were strategies that I’m well familiar with since I’ve listened to literally dozens of podcast episodes over the last month. But I’m still glad I participated because tonight I won a 2-day online workshop worth $347. I’m so excited because she shows how to teach math to kids so that they see it’s not about memorizing algorithms but about thinking and figuring things out. My students are in desperate need of this. They’re already struggling with language, they’re being introduced to algebra for the first time (in the U.S. algebra is part of middle school standards), and then we’re asking them to memorize algorithms that make no sense. No wonder they forget them the next day. Math just doesn’t make any sense to them; it’s simply another language they’re trying to navigate. I need another way to help them, and I know that this workshop is going to help me teach them.

Tonight was also an event for 8th grade Hispanic students and their parents that I planned in order to help them better understand how 8th and 9th grade are different, how GPAs are calculated, what activities we offer, etc. There was a great turnout: 18 out of 21 families came. Two of my HS students spoke, and I was so proud of their courage to stand up in front of a room full of 40+ people, especially when several other students I asked didn’t feel comfortable doing so. (Which makes me realize we need to do a better job of empowering students and helping them feel comfortable presenting.) It was a great night and helped me strengthen the connection with these students and families.

Now, that’s all the good stuff that’s been going on. There’s also a huge weight on me tonight for problems that I’ve not been able to solve. A former student who reached out for help last week, a family who remains without electricity, a student who called one evening while having an anxiety attack, and the stress of the last week of school coming up where I have to help students finish projects and prepare for finals. It all makes me one tired teacher tonight and ready for the weekend.