So I’m Gonna Be a Teacher…

In one year, I will have paid off my undergrad student loans. For the past 10 years, I allocated $289/month on an average annual salary of $25,000 doing what I loved. I made it work by transferring $1,000 every few months into a separate bank account solely for auto payments for my student loans. Out of sight and out of mind made the payments less overwhelming and allowed me to more practically budget my living expenses.

Soon, I will be entering into student debt once again as I’ve made the decision to pursue my Master’s degree–something I never intended on pursuing. But my career path has taken me a different way. Perhaps one day I’ll circle around again to my zoological roots, maybe open that dream animal sanctuary for animals and people with disabilities. The future is unwritten. And though I’m working toward a future with my decision to pursue my Master’s, I’m also choosing to live wholly in the present.

I’ve never been happier in my career choice than I am now teaching children. It was a fluke occurrence that saw me becoming a temporary substitute teacher in Seattle which led me to fall in love with a classroom of 8 students with special needs–and more specifically, one little boy for whom I would become his 1:1 throughout the remainder of the school year. Each day was a challenge, and the long-awaited rewards came in small glimpses: his little voice reminding himself, “Mistakes are just your brain growing”; independently taking himself to the calm corner to regulate his emotions; asking me to count to 10 so he could calm down.

Now in New York, I’ve been working with low income and at-risk youth in an overflowing integrated pre-k classroom of 24 students, at least half of which require individual instruction. I am EXHAUSTED at the end of the work day, but I still love going to work every day, just like I did at my school in Seattle. I find the patience to kneel down to a child wandering the room because he doesn’t understand how to find an empty seat at a table and involve him in the explanation. I find great joy in taking a child’s hand who has come to me crying because a friend wouldn’t share and walking over to that student to “solve the problem” together. Too often at-risk students are yelled at, seen as problem childs or end up slipping under the radar because they are too quiet or scared to voice their needs, perhaps not even understanding what it is they are seeking.

Maybe it’s because in my own life I have misunderstood my own emotions, succumbing to societal pressures and stigma. Maybe it’s because in coming to fully understand and accept and love myself, I can see these children for who they really are. Maybe it’s as simple as figuring out that this is where I’m meant to be. Maybe.

Whatever the reason, whatever the path, whatever the late nights and long hours ahead, I am elated to be following a new dream pursuing my Master’s in Teaching.

Kid Talk 101: An Unexpected Conversation About Diversity and Equality

I tutor a young brother a sister in Spanish at a public library. One day, the 7-year-old was teasing me about my boyfriend.

“You have a boyyyyyfriend?” he said. “Do you kissssss him?”

“I’m an adult,” I said. “And my boyfriend and I love each other so yes, we do kiss each other.”

“Ewwww. I’m gonna kiss a boy.”

“Okay,” I said. “But wait until you’re older. You shouldn’t go around school kissing your classmates.”

“Boys can’t kiss boys,” he said.

“Yes they can,” I said. “You can love anyone you want. And when you’re old enough and have someone’s permission, it’s okay to kiss them.”

He wasn’t so pleased with that answer; a little confused, even. Because children are raised that boys kiss girls and girls kiss boys. At what point in their life are they taught that boys also kiss boys and girls also kiss girls?

Kids can be so unpredictable. You never know what they’re going to say, and sometimes their questions and comments put you on the spot with how you are going to respond. I try to prepare myself for the outrageous things kids might say, but I’m not always ready. All I know is that it is important to teach them kindness and acceptance, even if that isn’t the job I was hired for.

This, I think, is why I feel called to be a teacher. More than teaching children the ABCs and how to count, I feel called–compelled even–to teach them how to be kind to each other. To teach them how to use their words to process their feelings, regulate their behavior, and solve problems. To teach them how to be compassionate. To teach them to be activists; to know the difference between right and wrong and to stand up for it, for others.

As a teacher, a parent, or any child caretaker, we need to teach our children–the future generation–more. More than just the definition of prejudice and racism. More than just about the existence of prejudice and racism. We need to show them what we are doing to stop it. We need to gather our children and involve them in the fight for change instead of leaving them on the sidelines watching the world go by.

My town didn’t have a lot of diversity growing up, but my parents took me to the Christian food pantry to help collect and hand out donations. They didn’t stop me from accepting an invitation at 10 years old from my Muslim friend to attend a service at her mosque.

I see now, though, that diversity is a multi-faceted gem, and while there are things we have done to embrace it, there is always so much more we can and must do.

How will you show the future generation you care?