Sawubona*

Janae will always be a student I remember. She was so eager to learn, all the time. Her notes were super organized (I actually kept her English binder at the end of the school year to have as an exemplar for future classes & I still have it!). She was the sweetest and most pleasant! When you asked a question, you could always count on Janae to raise her hand, whether it was for one of those “tell me what you learned & you better be able to share it out” questions or the open-ended “give me a critical thought that shows your amazing, creative brains” question. She was an ideal student for all teachers; the student that pushed you to power through those hard days when 98% of your students become creatures from who-knows-where, and you call into question why you went into teaching and decide movies are not a bad teaching tool. But none of these are the reason I will always remember Janae. 

In my 4th year of teaching, I was conducting action research and decided to focus on the impact of leveraging student voice in the classroom. I devised ways to creatively bring voice into the forefront of our curriculum and day to day activities: peer writing circles, student led discussions, circle time in class, just to name a few. I saw a huge increase in student engagement and overall mastery of skills as these practices were integrated with consistency. Yay! Ms. Wang for the win!! 

And then there were a series of those really hard days where you wonder what happened to the awesome classes that were literally just in front of you. Among other things during this dark age, Janae , who always greeted me at the door, would whiz by and slump into her chair. She shared snarky comments here and there, mostly under her breath with the occasional public announcement. And while my outer being told me to take things personally, to give up, to get frustrated, my inner core pushed me to do what I was taught to do - lean in, check in, steal moments to affirm her, and remind her I was still available to her if she needed. 

But not much changed until a week or so passed along with the series of moon phases (I blame all weird blips on the moon). We had circle time in class, and I gave students an opportunity to share what was working and what wasn’t, referring back to our most recent dark age. I wanted students to exercise voice, and frankly, I also wanted to know what in the world happened. I received different reflections, explanations, suggestions, grievances, and then Janae raised her hand. And I’ll be honest, for the first time, I dreaded that moment calling on her, waiting for some criticism about me. She offered three words on “what’s working”: You see us.

Cue record scratch, lightbulb, and any other indicator of the aha! moment that comes periodically in life. Her words struck my inner core deeply. It is one thing to think about best practice, to care for our students. But what she brought into the conversation was a deep human connection and purpose that we serve as members of humanity. As educators, we know, even in the hardest moments, there is immense value in check ins, restorative follow ups, providing interventions and differentiated supports. But Janae taught me something that day - if we do all that AND are intentional about how these moves we make as a contribution to the fabric of humanity, the impact becomes greater. To be seen is to be known. And to be known gives us a purpose. 

       

To see and be seen, became a critical part of my educational philosophy. As a teacher, it came to life in my efforts to confer with every student at least twice a week and learn something about each student every week, through the end of the school year. As a principal, I learned all my students’ names within the first week and unless the gods were working against me, I greeted every kid as they came into school each morning. 

So what? I was recently reading Let Your Life Speak, a book a friend gave me knowing I was beginning my journey into vocational discernment. The author speaks on how our vocation should be in response to our nature rather than our desire, “accepting the treasure of true self I already possess…” (10). The author explains that vocation does not come from willfulness. Rather it comes from listening “to my life and try[ing] to understand what it is really about - quite apart from what I would like it to be about” (4). As I thought about these words, experiences and moments surfaced to my mind: my parents struggle as they learned to be fluent in American society, my battle for self-worth based off of my skewed understanding of physical beauty, my commitment to learning and being the best student in any classroom I enter in order to validate my parents’ struggle… And for some reason, Janae’s words continued  to surface: “You see us.” I see you. I am seen. 

I’m still sitting in this as I explore my vocational direction, but as I listen to my life and pay attention to my past experiences, my community, and my story, I wonder about that notion of being seen. I recognize that the criteria for what it means to be seen has evolved and shapes how I see myself, how I invite others to see me, and how I see others. I am not sure how this impacts what things will play out, but as I continue to do my best to intentionally engage with others in spaces where I can see you deeply, I hope that my random ramblings is in and of itself my own step into [inviting others into a space in] being seen, unapologetically and authentically.

*Sawubona - Zulu greeting meaning "I see you."

Janae's 8th Grade English Binder.

There's nothing more powerful to me as a teacher than the lessons you learn from your students. Thank you, Janae.