It was after school, and I was one of the teachers taking part in Mosaics, a club for students of color at Upper East Side School for Girls where I taught Spanish. I loved being part of this group. I felt like I was providing support and acceptance to the students involved who had to navigate a world that often looks down on brown.
I sat at a table with my group as we worked on telling the stories of our family’s home country, our roots. The six to eight-year-old’s conversations turned to vacations. “Ugh, my mom is making us go to St. Bart’s again. It’s so boring there.”
“Oh, I’ve been there. We are going to Japan this year. I love it there!!”
And it hit me. These students, while of color, are growing up with advantages that I did not have. These were not the group I wanted to serve as a role model for. They didn’t need me, really.
The following year, the private school behind (along with its multiple preps, catered lunches, and professional development courses), I found myself in a too warm classroom with no air conditioning in the heart of East Elmhurst, Queens. I am still getting to know the fourth graders and trying to get a handle on what it means to teach dual language in a NYC public school. Evelyn comes up to me, perfectly pressed uniform, red bow tie crisp, and says to me:
“You look like how I am going to look when I grow up”
Sure, she has had Hispanic teachers, but we did share common roots, accents, and skin tone. I knew at that moment, I was where I needed to be.
Diversity has been the cornerstone of my approach to teaching. When we learn about other cultures and beliefs, we become well-rounded, empathic citizens of this world. In my years of teaching, my goal has always been to lead my students towards acceptance of all individuals. You do not have to agree with everything someone says, but you should respect it.
