We have to try.

I’ve been putting off writing in this space because, what can you even say? (At least that’s my post-election excuse, I’ll get back to you on a justification for the extended hiatus that preceded it.) (Narrator: she won’t.)

Going out on my own has been so incredibly rewarding in so many ways, but it also means figuring out how I can best be of service, stay informed, and connect with like-minded educators all by myself.

except it doesn’t

I have this small group of women I meet virtually with as often as we can manage. It’s on our calendars for every two weeks, but as often as not we just exchange apologetic texts when the reminder pops up (so sorry, I’m swamped with grading! it’s okay, my goats got out! I’m running errands with my kids but can’t wait for the next one!)

Three of us do this work and one is behind-the-scenes. Gathering together to commiserate about never-ending to-do lists or exchange contact info for a graphic designer or share personal struggles uplifts all of us. Do we solve all the world’s problems or at least our own? Absolutely not.

but we do see and support each other

And that’s enough to keep us all going, for the most part. But we all need in-person connection too. I got that for the first time in a long time in February. This year’s NABE conference was my first as an independent contractor. I still had friends and colleagues throughout the venue, but my badge basically said “me, at me, sponsored by me” and the same was true for the content of my presentation. I was a little worried I might be alone in my feelings, so I appreciated the chance to learn from several colleagues before my own session. Again and again I heard the same themes.

We are all overwhelmed. We are all disheartened. We are all committed to continuing to fight for equity in education. We all have at least a little hope.

On the flight home, feeling renewed and energized by brilliant colleagues, I drafted a blog post while watching inspirational films (aka the Delores Huerta documentary from PBS and the Barbie movie). I didn’t finish it (the draft, not the movies - they’re both great), but at the time I had a lot to say about this quote from the latter.

“You have to try. Even if you can’t make it perfect, you can make it better.”

This field is staffed by dreamers and doers and people who’ve overcome huge challenges and defied unimaginable odds and who want to empower the next generation to have the same trajectory.

We are passionate about advocacy and equity. We are oriented toward others and are craving facts and community and connection. We were already overwhelmed and under-resourced before this wave of hate and discrimination washed over the country like a poorly anticipated yet deeply predictable tsunami of hate and fear.

For the last three days, the Hyatt Regency Atlanta was ground zero for those of us who serve multilingual learners. Vendors, classroom teachers, consultants, coordinators, principals…we came from all over the US and even other countries to talk and listen, to share ideas and contact information, and…

(that’s where I got distracted by the flight attendant offering pretzels and diet coke)

From the documentary, I took:

"Delores Huerta came of age at a time of conformity. Everyone was being fit into a mold. But if you’re Delores Huerta, there was no mold.”

and

In her own words, “I guess my only dream was to be accepted. I think that’s what a lot of young children feel. Just to be accepted for what you are.”

I can’t explain why acceptance of everyone is scary to some. I can’t explain how some people can look at a past where conformity was expected and differences weren’t celebrated and feel envy instead of fear and sadness and regret. All we can do is try and make it better. We probably should let go of dreams of perfection, but maybe we can make it a little better and if that’s possible, we certainly have to try.