Open Candy, 20 Questions, and A Good Man

If you've left your house anytime within the past 48 hours, you know that there is just a tiny bit of Christmas craze going on out there.  Busy parking lots, bustling shoppers, and long lines.  For the most part, I've noticed that people are behaving pretty kindly to one another.  After church yesterday morning, I found myself in Target for a few last minute stocking stuffers for my brother.  Yep, he's 26 and we both still love stockings the most.  In fact this year, that's all our family is doing. Stockings.  To be honest, there just isn't really anything that any one of us needs or wants badly enough to have a huge present fest over. Actually, what I'm most excited for is Christmas Eve service with my small but wonderful family and my mom's tasty prime rib dinner on Christmas Day.  

Yesterday afternoon, my husband, Tayo, and I were at Big 5 waiting to check out.  I couldn't help but watch the young boy in front of us with his dad as they purchased a couple basketballs.  If you're an educator, you know how this goes.  It's that moment when you notice a child who needs a little guidance and you have to make the choice to either put on your teacher hat and guide or look the other way and ignore.  I remember last year about this time of year when a kid dumped a ton of DVDs on the floor at Best Buy and then walked away as if nothing had happened.  If you know me at all, you know that there was NO way I was going to let that fly but yesterday, I sat back and watched, and I'm glad I did.  

This little boy who I'd guess was probably a kindergartner, stuck his hand in the candy jar, started to unwrap a piece of bubble gum and kindly said to the cashier, "Ummm, excuse me, can I have this?" The dad (who clearly saw the gum was unwrapped) told his son, "No, put that back," and the little boy put the opened gum back into the jar. I gave Tayo my best Principal Fadeji "Really?!" expression, but much to his happiness, I kept quiet.  The kindergartner then wandered over to the credit card machine.  "Excuse me, what is this red button for?" "Excuse me, what happens if I push this button?" "Excuse me, what is the yellow button for?" "Excuse me, does this button do anything?" By this point I was this kid's number one fan.  Not only was he using his "excuse me" manners, but his level of curiosity was so awesome that I couldn't help but give him approving smiles after each question. After about 16 more questions (all of which the cashier answered with simple, yet kind responses) the little boy and his dad left the store. 

As we proceeded to check out, Tayo said very sincerely to the cashier, "You're a good man."  Without skipping a beat, I half gasped, half interrupted and said, "Really?!" I mean in my mind, the cashier was polite but he could have extended the kid's thinking a little more. In an effort to make the moment a little less awkward and pump up the cashier's ego (which I had just accidentally deflated), I said, "Oh, yah, you were great! But I mean kids are supposed to be curious, he was like 5 years old!" In that moment a bunch of things came together for me. 

I realized in that moment that being an educator, I expect the adults around me to coach children.  I expect our students to use manners, and I expect curiosity to be completely acceptable and encouraged. I also expect people to cheer each other on, to encourage one another and to point out the successes of others that are worthy of celebrating.  That's the culture I'm working to create at my school and in my community. And for just a small moment at Big 5 yesterday, I saw that culture being replicated in the midst of Christmas craze and it made me smile. Those unexpected moments are real. And sometimes they start with open candy, 20 questions, and acknowledging a good man. 

Thank You Teacher. I Love You.

During my last year of teaching 2nd grade (2011-12 school year), I got an email from the father of one of my students. (Commonly referred to as "one of my dads" but that can get tricky.)  He shared with me that he knew of a local construction company that was interested in investing in the lives of their Spanish-speaking employees through an English course.  I'm not sure if this dad had heard about my recent mission trip to Casa de la Esperanza Orphanage, if he knew that I minored in Spanish while at Cal Poly, or even worse, if he had spotted me devouring guac and chips at a nearby Mexican restaurant, but regardless of his intuition, I was hooked from the beginning.  Before I knew it, I was sealing the deal at a mansion in Kentfield, sipping hot apple cider with two of my close teaching friends and meeting our future students.  

After a business development and coaching meeting over lattes with the famous Randy Roberts, the three of us teachers emerged feeling empowered as the new small business owners of AJA: English Made Easy.  We wrote a business plan, a proposal for the company (cringing at the amount of money we were charging, after all, we were JUST teachers!), and filled out numerous insurance and facility use forms. To our surprise and within just weeks, we were up and running! I don't think Jenny (@jennyderby), Amanda (@missamandagrey) or I knew just what we were getting into when we held our first class in Room 20 at Brookside Upper Elementary. 

As all good teachers do, we spent the first few classes getting to know our students.  We learned that many of them had been hired from the area in San Rafael known as the "canal."  If you aren't familiar with San Rafael, the "canal" is an area where workers stand for hours on end hoping someone will drive by and hire them for a day job. We learned that most of our students were living here in the U.S. but their wives, children, and extended family members were living in other countries.  We learned that several of our students never even completed 6th grade.  With hopeful hearts and realistic expectations, we started our journey.

Two years later, we no longer teach in Room 20.  We teach in a classroom near the "canal" that our students BUILT for us with love and care in the middle of their construction warehouse! We've had numerous 12-14 week intense rounds of ESL classes, and we've added a dynamic teacher, @cashleywilliams to the mix.  We've laughed together, we've struggled together, and we've celebrated together. 

Sharing the #eduwins that have occurred with our students over the past two years would be a heart warming and reflective walk down memory lane.  However, tonight, I had the privilege of being a part of one huge #eduwin that summarized the last two years for me.  Tonight, I watched a flourishing top-notch company invest in the lives of their employees.  I watched ten business executives drink, eat, and be merry with men who stumble over their sentence structure, who are often covered in paint and dirt, and many of whom will spend this holiday missing their family members who live in Mexico or El Salvador.  Tonight, I watched my three friends, who have busted their butts for the past three months to teach with enthusiasm, hold back the tears as we hugged our students goodbye for a few months. Tonight, I saw a room full of people who know what it means to Give. Risk. Learn.

This holiday season, I'm sure I will receive close to 100 Christmas cards but I already have my favorite card picked out.  It's the card below. The card where these 16 men wrote personalized messages to each of us teachers. It's funny how the things that once bothered me have melted away over time.  I used to hate it when my 2nd grade students called me "teacher." Spelling mistakes, poor grammar, and incorrect punctuation have also been known to drive me crazy on more than one occasion. This year however, my favorite Christmas card is the one full of mistakes. The one that says, "Thank you teacher. I love you."