Skip to main content

The Last Teacher


 

6/4/24

Anna's last day was Friday, May 31, 2024

She collected all of her gifts and notes from her students

Took pictures with her seniors who she had as freshmen four years ago

Turned in her keys and walked away from her Georgia classroom

made up of predominantly  black and brown students 

who needed her to stay.

She is not (really) leaving because of the constant shift of politics/policies/procedures of her school district

She survived that.

She is not (really) leaving because she suddenly lost her colleague and mentor last year, her marigold.

She survived that.

She is not (really) leaving because of the overwhelming needs of her students 

Who continue to need her even after they have left her class. 

She did this tearfully because she was both too empty

and too full to stay another year.

She is going to graduate school for counseling in the fall

Her next dream is to do horse therapy for children and young adults.

She sees this as a failure on her part. 

She could not stay in the game.

But I am writing this for her to say

You will always be a teacher. No, you will always be a kumu, and although it is translated as teacher

you also know that what I am saying is so much more than that.

You have not walked away/quit/failed/disappointed/disappeared at all. 

This is not just me counting my alumni retention rate on a spreadsheet

This is not me fudging the numbers of teachers that have stayed in the profession.

Your intention to bring aloha where aloha is needed

is still the act of teaching

even if it is not within the confines of four walls, hallways, doors, windows, bells, systems

You will continue to teach with love and rage

without which there is no hope.

How do I know this?

Because I see you, Anna: homeschooled girl

Blonde tita blending into Nanakuli and Waiʻanae like a real local

whose tattoos grow like a garden of heartbreak on skin

bringing color in a dull world when the sunshine of your smile is not enough.

I see you, kumu to kumu

And I am proud of this new journey that will fill you up with joy and ʻono again,

Bring students who need you back to your door.

I see you. 


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Kino (an indigenous logic model): post 1 of 4

Passion I have. What I need is to practice my elevator speeches, those short informative program synopses that can be done in the time it takes to ride the elevator.  Of course it will take me 4 posts. Post 1: The honua: building on solid ground The Alana culture-based education course is graphically depicted by the above logic model. The honua (green box), the earth, represents the mo'ok ūauhau, the geneology of this program that informs and guides the building of this course. Dr. Shawn Kanaʻiaupuni and her team lay the foundation for culture-based education (CBE) modeling and immersion within the course. Dr. Walter Kahumoku and Keiki Kawaiʻaeʻa, in consultation with Dr. Bernice McCarthy (4Mat) bring to the geneology the work of moenahā, a curriculum planning concept based on the way kupuna taught. Makawalu, literally eight eyes, is a concept practiced by Kaʻimipono Kaiwi and her teachers at Kamehameha Kapālama to encourage multiple perspectives in the standards-b...

Battle of the Sexes

Ok, it's not a battle, but after being married for 20 years, I realize that there are some things that fall into the "mom's job" category, and there are some things that are strictly dad's domain. Mom's job is to find things. For 20 years I have lived in a male dominant household. The fact that the majority of the toilet seats in my house remain in the down position is a testament of the power of the one and only alpha female. However, what I can't do is teach my children (and my husband) how to do what I call "mom looking" versus "man looking." I don't need to explain this for the moms. They know exactly what I'm talking about. The guys are slower to catch on. I'll type s-l-o-w-l-y. Here's a typical "man looking" conversation: "mom! (or Cat!), where's the ______ (insert anything from socks to the car)?" "It's in the _________ (insert my instructions like refrigerator, garage, o...

5 things that teachers do when they are in all-day workshops

1. Listen attentively for 10 minutes Presenters: welcome to your worst teaching nightmare. Teachers learn how to be antsy from their students. If you have a lot of middle school teachers, expect them to act like middle schoolers, ADHD disorders and all. You have 10 minutes to hook us and we want to get up, move and be active every half hour. 2. Talk to our neighbor while the presenter is still talking This practice is a natural way for teachers to use each other as a sounding board for the connections they are making to their own teaching (or they're just gossiping). If you can't tell the difference between productive noise and idle gossip, you need to go back to the classroom and practice. 3. Text and read posts When speakers talk about another author, or another concept, we get on our smart phones and look up the links so we can expand our knowledge immediately. (Or we're blogging or catching up on our email). Don't be offended. Only kick us out if we don't realiz...