Shallotte.

I’m remembering what made my family so special. I’ve never known another family like them. We are rare. We have our issues and we aren’t perfect, but we truly love each other and you feel that when you’re around us. My favorite place to be every summer was always with my family. I’m so grateful for them.

When I’m in environments that aren’t as loving, around people that aren’t as loving, I know that it’s this love inside me that has kept me going. Wanna know why I am who I am? It’s because fortunately, this was my foundation. I thank God for that. You wanna know what I notice most about the students I encounter? No support system. No guidance. No sense of familial ties. What we do in the classroom is far beyond teaching the curriculum. There are special people like myself who love these scholars unconditionally, just because they deserve it. It’s not something they have to earn. But at the same time…we is tired.

I have children who disrespect me on a daily basis. And this isn’t a soapbox about them— they’re children at the end of the day. I question why certain things either aren’t being taught or aren’t being reinforced at home.

But when you start peeling back layers, more questions come up.

Because I understand too why when I call for support, I understand that mom is working and doesn’t have the sufficient time to pour into you. The problem gets bigger and bigger and more questions arise when you start questioning. And one can’t help but see underling structures that are in place. Decisions that have been made purposefully to engineer a specific outcome. I can’t help but connect all the dots when I start asking questions about one of my scholars.

And then I’m able to see how my journey in African American and Diaspora Studies connects with my journey in English and African American Literature. The amazing professors I’ve encountered along the way; and then my experiences teaching in Title I schools. It all makes sense. What you end up with is a teacher with this type of foundation, plus the knowledge and education to provide healing to these students versus more trauma.

That’s my main goal. Fuck the curriculum at the end of the day. What does this particular child need. Well, today Mia needed a hug really badly. She was having a rough day at home Sunday and her parents didn’t celebrate her birthday, for whatever reason. With her being 11 and not fully capable of processing things a certain way, she doesn’t have the maturity to see that her parents are tired from working third shift. This is a fabricated scenario of a mixture of stories. Just to protect them, but hopefully you see where I’m going here. I’m not a perfect teacher and there are many things I need to improve on, but I know that I am probably one of the best figures to be in front of them at this time. My goal is to provide that child with what they need in that moment. Oh, you need a laugh? Oh, you just want someone to listen to you. Oh, you like walking with me at recess. You need someone to tell you “no.” Oh, you’re a bully and need someone to put you in your place— I got you. I teach them curriculum, of course. But my hopes are that they leave with more and that they leave with a “why?”

Teachers. And you tell me, you don’t see what I do? Schools, and what’s happening inside them are microcosms of the society at large. I can go on and on, but I won’t. I do believe my journey in the public school system is done and I’m grateful to be able to spend time with my family this weekend.

I know I’ll be able to finish the rest of this school year strong because I’m supercharged from the love of my people. Thank y’all for pouring into me all these years. I had to learn in isolation how to be my own Source to recharge but the seed was planted here. Thank you.