Making Their Hard Work Worth It
As a child of immigrants, I was always told to “make the most of this life.” “I crossed mountains and rivers to get to school everyday.” “I came here so that you would have a better life.” “Your education is the most important thing right now.” Not only did they instill in me a strong work ethic, they also taught me to constantly think of others. “Offer them a glass of water. “Have you eaten yet?” “I have some extra if you need it.” This is all in Spanish, obviously. Through my parents, I’ve been taught to work hard for what I want while remaining grounded and appreciating everyone who has joined me on my journey.
Both of my parents immigrated here in their early 20’s. After I was born, they had to quickly familiarize themselves with a new way of living in a language that they were still grasping. I became the oldest of 3 girls, and I feel that my siblings have shaped me into the caring leader that I am today. I knew that I wanted to be a teacher when I was 7 years old, and that passion for helping people is seen showing up in various areas of my life. Later on in 5th grade, I learned to play the flute. My passion for music also instilled in me a sense of leadership. These two phenomena greatly shaped me as a leader. As the oldest siblings, I was always left to care for my younger sisters. While I love my parents, I have a rocky relationship with them. With them trying to work to provide us with the best life in this new country, they were often absent and tired. I stepped up as the older siblings and planned movie nights, random activities, and made my sisters laugh whenever I could. From a young age, I was taught to think about others feelings and experiences. I also see this shine through as my passion for music drove me to become a leader. Because I fell in love with music and playing in an ensemble, I would always push myself and those around me to do better. If I saw someone struggling, I would instinctively help them so that they would be able to have as much fun as I was. I became competitive because I loved pushing myself to do better, but I was always quick to make sure that those around me were having a good time.
This idea of caring for others is something that will be seen in the setting of the classroom I hope to run one day as a teacher. Teachers are met with such diverse students. Since I figured out that I wanted to be a teacher at such a young age, I found myself analyzing each teacher I had and how they carried themselves in their classroom. I saw one consistent theme: my teachers were helping EVERYONE. Whether it’s a student learning English for the first time in her classroom, a student is going through a family issue, or whether a student simply isn’t having a good day, the teacher was always there to help, regardless of who the student was. They always put their best food forward, no matter the student’s background or situation. This reminds me of the Vincentian story of the Cloak of Simplicity. Vincent de Paul was seen helping both the rich and the poor. He did not favor the rich for having more resources, nor did he favor the poor for needing him more than others. He worked with everyone, regardless of their socioeconomic status, and he did so by wearing the same cloak. Rather than wearing his nicest clothes when he met with the wealthy, he wanted to be simplistic in his approach. People’s money does not determine his efforts or interest in helping. “The cloak of simplicity” is a symbol of Vincent’s single purpose: to do everything with God’s love at the center. As a future educator, my purpose is to show up for a student and their family/support system in whatever way they need me. I won’t put more effort into working with a child because their family gives me gifts or because they’re easier to work with. I will give the child and their loved ones my support, regardless of the difficulty of their situation.
In doing this, I am aware that I need to make sure that I take care of myself! I grew up Catholic, but it wasn’t until I came to DePaul that I decided to make my faith my own. One aspect of Catholicism that has always fascinated me is the unique architecture and design of each church I walk into. Regardless of how similar or different they are, I can sense God’s presence in each one. As we traveled through Paris, I had a heavy heart for several reasons. Life was changing, I was tired, and there were many thoughts about the future that lingered. However, each church and chapel we visited brought a sense of relief. As I walked in, everything stopped. I was able to pause and take a moment to breathe. I sat looking at the altar, the stained-glass windows, and the statue of saints surrounding the pews, and everything felt at home. Even when I was in a foreign country, I was welcomed with open arms to various churches across France. As I sat in the chairs at Saint Nicolas des Champs, I realized the importance of feeling safe, welcome, and appreciated in a new space. I thought to myself, “This is what Vincent and Louise were working towards.” It’s not just about asking people how they’re doing, where they’re from, or what they like to do in their free time. It’s about creating a space away from home where they feel like they belong.
I am going to encounter several students with various diverse backgrounds and needs. They will be in my care for a set amount of hours each day for a year of their lives. It is my personal mission to make that child feel safe, loved, and wanted in my classroom as I help them grow holistically and academically since we will be spending so much time together. I can’t control their lives outside of my classroom, but I want to have a positive influence in their lives in our time together. Just as Louise saw the need of children and families as she decided to open schools throughout France, I see the need for caring and compassionate individuals in the field of education. Louise saw the needs of the community and created schools, orphanages, and hospitals. While I may not be creating buildings and schools throughout America, I am excited to create change on a smaller scale, one kiddo at a time.
As a future educator, I’ve gone through my educational career hearing talk about funding, resources, and opportunity. I’ve observed behavior from my own teachers, heard talk of educational inequality on social media, and I’ve had conversations with other future teachers about the discrepancy in resources available to low-income, BIPOC communities around the world. As I’ve gone through my education courses at DePaul, I’ve been drawn to working in low-resource neighborhoods and communities where many BIPOC members live. Institutionally, those with lower incomes and/or different racial backgrounds receive lower quality education than their wealthier and white counterparts. Schools serving more students of color are less likely to offer advanced courses and gifted programs. Many behavioral disorders are often diagnosed during the preschool years, and teachers are more likely to look for signs of challenging behavior of young black men–especially young black boys than young white boys. Black children are also disproportionately likely to be suspended from preschool than their white peers. Black and Latinx students are provided less rigorous feedback about their work from classroom teachers than white students. College/University students of color are less likely to have access to and participate in high impact activities as research opportunities such as research opportunities with faculty, study abroad, internships, etc. as their white peers. Growing up as a Latina at a predominantly white high school, I didn’t hide my culture, but I was not showing it off as I do here at DePaul. I rarely saw people who looked like me or related to my jokes or music taste in high school, and it was apparent that being Latina made me different. I believe that it is a human right to receive a proper education which is why I am drawn to serving low-resource communities. A teacher may dream of teaching in a classroom with a fancy smart board, large classrooms, and fancy facilities but I believe that under-funded schools would benefit from my work more than others. As a Vincentian, I want to help those who seemingly have less. That does not always have to mean money–a kind “good morning” at the beginning of the day, a hug when a kid is crying because his favorite toy broke, or a sticker celebrating an A on a test are all small ways that I can show up for a child. All of my actions are done through love, just as Vincent’s were.
While changing a major flaw in the public education system is a very daunting thought, I remind myself that it’s important to count and celebrate the little victories along the way. As I’ve mentioned several times before, I see each child and family that comes my way as an opportunity to promote change. Whether I help a family fill out some paperwork that’s in an unfamiliar language to them, help them learn their colors at circle time, or greet them with kindness each day in my classroom, I want to present my best self to each family that comes my way, regardless of their story. I hope to use my smile as my “cloak of simplicity” — ready to welcome any child into my classroom. My parent’s journey to the US was difficult, but I am thankful that I have the opportunity to create change through my job as an educator.
