Now in My Twenties

Friends and Family, as you may or may not know, I am now a high school teacher in Dallas. I teach 9th grade Professional Communications, which involves practical learning that applies to the real world, such as business writing, business etiquette, ACT prep, college and career readiness, and much more.  One of the first things I’d like to do for my scholars is connect them with people who work in the same industry they’d like to join. So far, my scholars have expressed an interest in dentistry, business, engineering, marine biology, nursing, medicine, acting, law, and journalism. They have also expressed interest in the following universities: UCLA, TCU, Florida State, MIT, Johns Hopkins, Harvard, Yale, and Berkeley. My scholars are very eager to learn more about these college and career paths and what it takes to succeed in them. I am reaching out to all my colleagues to assist my scholars in their networking. Please know that if I reach out to you, it is because you ar...

This text was originally written in May 2016 for Teach For America purposes. Now that my TFA commitment is coming to a close, I have decided to publish my Articulation of Leadership and share with my fellow teachers in hopes that it might express the importance of our work and inspire teachers to continue teaching. ... The academic school year 2015 through 2016 was a year of many changes. I started my new career as an educator; before I had been an editor. This was a big jump for me. I went from reading and editing books every day to teaching children how to read. The decision to change careers was not an easy one, but I knew without a shadow of doubt that I wanted to teach. More specifically, I wanted to teach literacy. Truth is: I love reading and writing. I love it so much that I want to share it with the rest of the world. And there is no better place to begin than in the classroom. My students sharing and celebrating a book we published   titled The Day the Students Too...

Another sleepless night, to be sure. As of now, it is 1:34 a.m. I lay awake in my bed trying my best to shut my brain off, but it is to no avail. Thoughts keep roaming. It might have something to do with the cup of coffee I had just before bed, or perhaps that two-hour nap I took earlier may also be the cause. No, I think instead it is just because I worry. And because I worry, I also plan. Thus, my brain is more awake now in the quiet of the night than it was earlier in the rush of the daylight. I keep thinking about the same thing: that is, of course, my students. Their current ability, their progress, their attitude toward learning, it is all on my mind. The question is the same as it has always been how can I best help them ? As their writing teacher, and as a practitioner of the written word, I want them to be at ease with language and literature. Ideally, I want them to be masters of writing and consciously use written language to advance themselves in life. After all, a per...

The young girl, bright-eyed, fresh-faced but also a little mischievous, loved writing in places she wasn’t suppose to write. The oh-so-popular ‘Blank was here’ on old picnic tables, dirty bathroom stalls, and rusty locker doors always made her chuckle. “Somebody was here before me,” she’d think, and for some unknown reason, that made her smile. “People should be allowed to leave their mark. That’s their God-given right.” The young girl, Catalina, was her name, ventured through life with these daring thoughts in mind. It was exactly this type of thinking that led her small hand to mark odd, little spaces in her very own bedroom. Scribbling, jotting, doodling, her inky pens scratched away. To the untrained eye, one might think the room is free of scribbles and scrabbles. The cleanliness of the white walls might fool them. But you ask Catalina to point them out to you and she’ll show you where you need to look. “Forget what you can see and think of what you can’t see. If...

These past few days have been the hardest days of our lives. The world has turned upside down; yet, it hasn’t. We’ve known all along that racism, sexism, and bigotry in all forms still exists. The two things that have changed is that (1) our so-called president-elect, “future leader of our nation,” is a blatantly outspoken racist, permitting and encouraging hatred to fuel our nation, and (2) racists everywhere now feel it is within their rights to “put us in our place.” It breaks my heart to see images of hate on the news—but it also fuels my own anger at this injustice, as it should fuel yours too. The time of lamentation is over. The time of action and perseverance has begun. I’m proud of my fellow minority brothers and sisters and white ally friends who have wasted no time in taking action. They fight in the name of love and justice, accepting the consequences that comes with it. I’m especially speaking to my teachers, parents, and mentors of students here:   we should all ...

Looks like it is my unpopular belief that candy is one of the worst motivators in teaching. Let’s just think about this for a bit. Candy, literally pure SUGAR, is a common method teachers use to motivate students to work. Forget the fact that candy is a direct way to harm a child’s health; candy is no different than any other type of currency for children. You are paying them to be students. Teachers using the candy-motivation strategy are failing their students. They are sending the wrong message. If your goal is to help students motivate themselves, it won’t be accomplished by throwing candy their way. It is such a short-term effect that using it in the classroom won’t make any difference in student motivation. If, in fact, student motivation is your goal, then you need to create an atmosphere of positive learning. If you want students to care, if you want students to motivate themselves, the motivators you offer them as a teacher should not be extrinsic, but rather intrinsi...

Though I am a true writer, I think it is important I say this: writing is not fun. I doubt it ever will be. It is lonesome, frustrating, difficult and all-consuming. So why do I do it? Why do I spend hours of my time miserably trying to write down those perfect words? Why do I put myself through something that gives me total unrest? Because my dear, sweet reader, I will suffer all the more if I do not. Writing, in any way, shape or form, forces us to face our thoughts. That is the purpose. Our thoughts are born in our head, pushed down our neck, sliver down the arm, onto the fingers, through the pen and finally onto paper. Once there, we cannot escape them. We cannot deny them. Whether good or bad, smart or dumb, those words are our thoughts. No one else can think them but us. The good news is that writing our thoughts is an immediate release of pressure. Almost like they were trying to escape our heads in the first place. I cannot sit idly by while these bionic, superchar...