Wowy wow! It's my first student trip since 2017! And you wouldn’t BELIZE the ups and downs of this trip! This trip = Belize!
Highlights: Mayan ruins, ziplining through a cave system, snorkeling with sharks and golf carting around San Pedro island. Learning experiences ;-) losing a day and a half of travel due to airline woes, lost items, hotel problems, golf cart breaking down on the island Day 1, Monday June 5th: We (12 students, 4 adults) arrived at the Omaha airport at 4 AM as instructed for our original 6AM flight, even though we knew the flight was delayed until 8:30 AM due to “crew rest”. We flagged this as a problem the night before when we were first notified of the delay, seeing as how we wouldn’t arrive in Dallas until 10:30 AM and our Belize City flight was scheduled to leave at 10:30 AM as well. They would need to hold that plane for us to make it on board. There were 16 of us and we used every channel we could to notify the airlines of our concern. Surely the airlines would hold the flight. We were all holding our breath. Good news: our gate was right next to the gate we needed for the next flight. More good news: the Omaha flight arrived 30 minutes early to Dallas (10:00 AM, remember the next flight leaves at 10:30). Things were looking promising again! And then…delayed on the tarmac for 15 minutes. And then…delayed 10 minutes waiting for the crew to connect the bridge to our door. Okay we might still have a chance so I pushed my way up to the front of the plane and ran to the Belize City gate: it did not wait for us. We spent the next 4-5 hours working tirelessly with the American Airlines team in our terminal to help us find a solution. All four adults were on our phones going round after round of being on hold with the airline and the travel company while simultaneously talking to the team in front of us trying to get any updates to send to the students and parents. It was a test of endurance. If I never have to hear that on hold music again I will be a happy woman. The American Airlines agents at that counter didn’t even break to use the restroom or eat. Two of them stayed hours past their scheduled working hours. The AA women were trying every possible way to get us to Belize City—using different airlines, splitting the group, and an alternative departure city. Massive kudos to them! (We definitely purchased postcards from Belize to send as a “Thank You”) While the AA agents on the ground were trying to make the impossible possible, Laura, Abbie, Amber and I were talking to AA group travel representatives and travel company representatives whenever anyone was available. At one point we were told we had three options: 1) return home and refund the trip, 2) head to Guatemala City (with no plan after that) 3) fly out to Belize Wednesday (losing two full days of our trip). Unreal, but we were ready to settle for arriving in Belize on Wednesday, and began to make arrangements for an unexpected two day stay in Dallas with 12 teenagers. While all of this was happening the parents of our travelers were engaging with the airlines on Twitter. Several employees of the airlines said this was often the most effective way to be heard. They were being told to check their DMs but nothing was coming to fruition…yet. Throughout this entire 4-5 delay at the airport our students were absolute champs! They entertained themselves and did not complain to us once—I think they saved it all for their snaps and parents :-) — regardless, their patience and kindness made me tear up more than once. They found joy in the DFW train system. Bless them! We gathered the vouchers the airlines gave us for our hotel and one meal ($12 credit per person for one meal. We would have to come back to the airport the next night to collect another voucher for ONE meal and more hotel rooms). During this time we also made peace with the fact that we wouldn’t have access to our checked luggage because they were too difficult to access after being cleared through international customs. We sat outside in the Texas heat, tired, hungry and defeated waiting for our shuttle to the airport. 20 minutes pass and it hasn’t arrived yet. I call “he’s on his way”. 20 more minutes no sign of the shuttle. I call again and triple check that we are in the correct location. We are. He arrives about an hour later but we can’t all fit in that shuttle so 2 adults and 3 students wait behind. I was not one of those left behind, and there is a story here about the driver of that shuttle not being safe or kind (Ask Laura). Yikes. Arrive at the hotel only to find out the cheapest meal we can order at the restaurant is above our $12 meal voucher. Ugh. Plan B: order pizza! It works. We eat, and a group makes a quick run to Walmart to get clothes and toiletries for the next two days since we don’t have our checked bags. I stay behind with another group and see what we can do to get tickets for 6 Flags the next day so these students have *some* fun while here. Everyone heads up to their rooms for sleep and calls/snaps/texts home. MIDNIGHTish: an alarm sounds in the hotel. I’m not sure I recognize it right away, it’s not quite a fire alarm, but I hear and see a group of students running in the halls. Sleepily I put my shoes on and head downstairs with them (did not grab the key). Thankfully my roommate at this time, Huenink (Abbie), has the wherewithal to do a headcount of our students and we realize two are missing. Huenink and I run back inside while Hilk and Amber stay with students and investigate outside. At this point we still aren’t sure what this mysterious alarm is, but I see firefighters pull up and one guy has an ax! My face turns completely white because I still am not getting a response from our missing students (because we will later learn we knocked on the wrong door—we were an entire floor off *face palm*) People nearby ask if I am okay. I am not okay, where are my students? I’m not sure how much time passes here as we are running into and out of potential danger but at some point we are told it’s just a “mechanical malfunction” and everyone can return to their rooms. I get back into our room and check room numbers and someone finally knocks on the missing students’ door only to discover they slept through the ENTIRE ordeal. Holy smokes (bad pun interned here). Okay okay, everyone heads back to bed. 12:15ish: Huenink gets a call on her phone from a random number. She answers. It’s some guy saying he is the VP of the airlines from DFW and there will be a plane ready for us tomorrow. No. Freakin’. Way. We don’t believe this. We quiz him to see if he is legit. “Name the agents that helped us today”. He passes the test. OH MY GOSH! A MIDNIGHT MIRACLE! I’m crying with all of the emotions we have endured today (if it still qualifies as today? I’ve been up since 2:30 AM). We call in Hilk and Amber and explain what just happened. Excitedly, we go back to each of our students’ rooms and let them know the new plan: no 6 flags (sorry not sorry), be ready to go back to the airport to head to Belize City in a few hours. Day 2, Tuesday June 6th: BELIZE it or not, the midnight miracle worked! The solution was to arrange for a larger plane to depart this day since the flight was originally sold out. We tell the airline's agents our story and they (along with us) think the Tweeting all the parents did on our behalf helped us land (pun) this miracle. We use our $12 vouchers for breakfast at the airport and head to Belize City. We arrive around 1:30, do a mad scramble for pens to fill out the customs paperwork they handed us after we landed. We meet up with our local tour guide for the trip, Jake, and board the bus to our first stop: the supermarket for snacks to get us through the next couple of days between meals. Personally I loved hearing the chatter of students as they talked about what to buy at the store. They asked great questions! They took their first risks. One student said she was going to get “something [she] is familiar with and something [she’s] not”. My teacher heart was beaming with pride. This is what I signed up for! This is why I love traveling with students! Our second trip was to the hotel: finally! A place to get some personal space, air conditioning, a shower, and a chance to be reunited with our checked luggage. After some shuffling around with rooms everyone got checked in and either went to rest, swim or chill out until dinner at 6. Day 3, Wednesday June 7th: Big plans! We checked out of our Belize City hotel and headed towards San Igancio for a zipline experience. This will be the first time ziplining for a few in our group! I’m already proud of them for signing up for this trip knowing this was on our itinerary. We get to zip to 6 different platforms—including zipping through a cave system. After we finish the platforms we get to raft through the river in the cave. Since their rainy season hasn’t happened yet the water depth is very very low. It’s still scenic though! Some of us are blessed— this site served as a holy place for Mayans—by the falling droplets of water from the cave. After this experience we eat lunch and head to our new hotel for check in. The new hotel has a 3 part pool system! Super cool, yay (pun because it’s ridiculously hot—like 102º + wicked humidity hot)! Everyone gets checked into their rooms to rest or heads to the pool before our 6PM dinner. Except…we soon discover a few rooms that simply will not cool down. We make some room changes. Some of our students are introduced to the bellboy for this switch of rooms in search of functioning AC. We head to bed. Day 4, Thursday June 8th: The agenda for today is Mayan ruins (Xunantunich) and a waterfall experience. The heat is still vv hot 102º plus 80+% humidity. I’ve officially let go of ever trying to have my curls under control and from here on will be wearing a hat to contain them. I’ve also given up on ever looking cute this trip. To get to the ruins we will take a small van across a quick ferry with all 16 of us piled in there in this heat. Another small, unforeseen adventure that I don't want to forget so this gets a sentence in this blog. Guys, I cannot stress to you enough how sweaty we are. 16 (well actually 19—the driver, Jake and a local tour guide, Abner) of us in a 12 passenger van. Anyhoo we get to see the ruins and they are just as awesome as I hoped! You can see the border between Belize and Guatemala from the top of the mountain. We get our workout in climbing a number of Mayan stairs—no easy feat, trust me. I can do many things but ancient stairs always give me a little fright. Thankful for the support of adults and students in getting me up and down ;-) After the ruins we eat lunch on our bus and head to the waterfall. This is also one heck of a trek. Several of our students jump fearlessly into the water from the top of a rock. Personally, I can’t swim well so I opt to slide—slither might be the better verb here—in. Most students choose to spend time around and under the waterfall. They look pretty awesome from my viewpoint! After some convincing and help from students and sponsors I doggy paddle my way over to the waterfall and will myself up on the slippery ledge near the actual fall. After some rest I doggy paddle back to a group of students leisurely sitting on some rocks. They look so graceful! Then one student slips a little between the rocks and gets caught by a current so I attempt to help but her foot gets caught in my swimsuit and before you know it I’m slipping with the current too. Oh well! This scene provides a laugh for anyone nearby. I decide I’m done and head back to the rocks to sit with Jake and watch the others. All in all this was a great day! We have all lost all of our water weight and likely gained some muscle with this heat and these activities. I think rest comes easy to everyone tonight…except when we return to the hotel more AC problems await. Half of the hotel doesn’t have consistent AC because the system is overwhelmed. Oooof. Thank goodness we have the bellboy and excellent entertainment with the pools and the bar staff playing all the right jams for us! Oh and a glorious rainstorm. A few travelers switch rooms to escape the heat for the night. Huenink lets me share her room for this to happen and at some point we all fall asleep. Day 5, Friday June 9th: Today’s agenda is primarily a travel day but also: a quick stop at a local market, the Belize Zoo and a boat ride to our next destination/hotel in San Pedro. Again, let me set the scene for you: IT’S HOT. As soon as we leave our room, at any point in the day, we will be sweating in minutes. We do a quick stop at an ATM and at a local market selling produce and crafts. The girls find a dog friend they named “Fred” that visits the stalls with them. I think some of us could have spent more time here—lots to see and buy! Fresh fruit for only $.50! After an hour and a half on the bus from our hotel we reach the Belize Zoo where we get to see local animals such as the jaguar, tapir, toucan, and my new favorite bird, the harpy eagle. Jake takes us around the zoo searching for each of the animals in their habitats. Even the animals are hot because nearly all of them are sleeping and panting while doing so. This is a small zoo and only houses local animals specifically for the purpose of education and rehabilitation. Much respect! After the zoo we have maybe a 30 minute ride to Belize City where we will catch a water taxi to our next destination and hotel on the island of San Pedro. This will be approximately a 45 minute ride in the Caribbean Sea with all of our luggage and all of that hot hot Belizean heat. My oh my I cannot do the justice of the heat we experience before taking off in that water taxi. I don’t think my body has ever been so hot in my life just sitting there in this boat with the windows shut and no breeze and full of people. One student said “my hands are pruning from sweating” and I think that’s the best way to emphasize how we were feeling in that moment of time. Once the water taxi gets going we cool off. We are able to enjoy the sights of the sea and islands along the way. The water is incredibly clear! And mainly calm. Some of us will struggle with sea sickness but everyone keeps it together and we arrive at our beach front hotel. We check into our rooms and unpack for the next couple of days and meet up again for dinner at 6. Day 6, Saturday June 10th: SNORKELING! Wowy wow, y’all! For someone who can’t swim well, I’ve found myself in many bodies of water and the combination of the marine life + water clarity = UNMATCHED! Seriously! We were able to swim with SHARKS (bigger than me!), lobsters, loads of fish and a turtle. My swim expert students were honestly as majestic as the sealife! They were diving under the water for a closer look and I was floating above. Little Waverly merpeople <3 We did a morning and afternoon session. The afternoon session was supposed to be primarily for spotting sea turtles, but they were all hiding. Worth it! I still very much enjoyed the non-Nebraskan scenery :-) Upon our return to our hotel we decided as a group to rent golf carts—the main mode of transportation on the island of San Pedro. The 4 adults + Rae were able to reserve a cart for 24 hours. After a quick test/run down of how to operate said golf cart we took a night trip to what would become our favorite spot on the island: Sugar Shack. An ice cream shop! Thankfully enough of our students had reliable GPS that we were easily able to navigate the streets of San Pedro. Once we had a good hang of the layout we headed back to the hotel for sweet sweet sleep. Day 7, Sunday June 11th: Free day! At breakfast we talk about options on how to spend our free day on the island. We have our golf carts until 8PM so we can do just about anything! Or do nothing at all—not a popular option ;-) Not surprisingly, because we are a little family now, we all decide to do the same thing—head to “Secret Beach”. We know this will be an hour golf cart ride away. We know it will be hot. The hotel prepares us lunches on the go that we can store in the coolers of our fancy carts. First we stop at the nearest gas station to fill our golf carts with gas and ensure we have snacks and water for this trek and then…zoom zoom! About 40 minutes into our trip one of the belts in our golf cart breaks. We cannot believe it. How are we so unlucky? I call the company that loaned the golf cart and they say they will send a mechanic but it will be at least 20 minutes (it’s HOT waiting in the sun). Our newly formed family decides this group will wait for the mechanic (in the shade) while the rest of us carry on to the secret beach. We made sure this group had a working phone and food before leaving. I hear this group was offered fresh pineapples from a nearby resort. The remaining golf carts head to Secret Beach but about 15 minutes from the beach ANOTHER cart needs to stop to be checked out. We call the previous group to see if the mechanic has reached them yet. He has and will be with us next. We have very little shade in this spot and I’m not sure how much time passes. We eat our lunches while we wait. One cart goes ahead to Secret Beach. Every single golf cart that passes us while we are waiting checks to see if we are okay. Belizeans, man. They care about people! #humanitygoals Eventually we are all fixed up and ready to go! Also during this point I accidentally take the mechanic’s wallet and phone thinking they belong to one of our students. Ooops. This means 3 of our group members (Laura, Liv and Chase) will take off in a sprint, in the heat trying to stop the guy. And I will whip the golf cart around and floor it to catch him. Somehow we get his attention and all is well. Whew. We also will negotiate that because of the delays we want two more hours with the golf carts tonight. We succeed but Laura and Amber have to leave 5 star reviews on TripAdvisor for this company. Sure, dudes. Whatever it takes at this point! Secret Beach has excellent spots to lounge and very clear water, but unbeknownst to us there are sea fleas in the waters. This is my first time hearing that such a creature existed, but of course it exists and it finds us. Therefore, we do not spend as much time at Secret Beach as we had anticipated and begin the hour golf cart ride back. All carts are given permission to stop at any store that looks worth exploring on the way home. We have time! The first pit stop = Truck Stop. It’s a cool spot with food trucks and games. We also purchase some craft items being sold here. I think our next stop is what we think is the main street of San Pedro. We lock up our golf carts and do some shopping at a handful of souvenir type stores. Then we head back to the hotel to take sunset pictures, drop off our purchased items, eat dinner and express our gratitude to Jake for his hospitality this past week. We gift him a Vikings t-shirt and take our last group photos. Then some of us head back out on the golf carts for those negotiated additional two hours! We make a final stop at the Sugar Shack and say goodbye to friends we have met along the way. We ask for their recommendations for things to do on a Sunday evening, but pretty much everything is closed. We do find one restaurant / bar that is open and order fancy drinks before heading home. Our time in Belize is nearly finished! Day 8, Monday June 12th: Everyone needs to be packed and out their door by 7AM in order to eat breakfast and catch the water taxi that will depart at 7:30 AM back to Belize City. A few of us decide that with the early start, why not wake up a little earlier (5:10) to catch the sunrise. It was a little cloudy but still worth it. What a peaceful way to begin a busy travel day. And that’s it, folks! We board the water taxi to Belize City → bus to the airport → plane to Dallas (there were a couple delays here…again to which we all kinda laughed and one student said “yay! We can ride the train again!”) plane home. I did get to learn about what I will call “passport jail” after a slight hiccup with one traveler leaving a passport on the plane. It was about an hour of panic but everything turned out just fine. Thank goodness! We arrived in Omaha around 1AMish (not even sure, honestly) and I was home by 2:30 AM. EL FIN (THE END!) Would totally do it again. For real! (And I hope hope hope my students would say the same because to me that’s the whole point. May you continue to explore this beautiful world, kids — in good times and in bad we learn, we evolve. It’s WORTH it. We find gratitude. Peace. Purpose. Unity.)
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*Full disclosure, I wanted to title this “One nation under grace”, but I realize the controversy in that title might limit the audience that might engage with this. And, I hope you’ll keep reading to hear me out. I am a product of all of you. You are a product of all of us. We must give that the credit And the weight It deserves. We will never know the waves of influence, for better or worse, we have all had on each other. Just lean into it. We are in an age of disinformation And contradictions You will find contradictions in this very post. What a blessing and a curse it is to be able to think so much that our thoughts begin to spiral and we overthink and contradict ourselves. What if we changed the hostility of the word “contradiction” and embraced the thought process, and the learning that it took to get there? What if we stop wanting to be right Or, for some of us, what if we stop worrying about being wrong? And just be… Just get whatever you need to get out there. (This is my pep talk for myself. If it works for you too, cool.) Save space for grace. For you And I. And empathy. Because to know completely know grace is to know empathy, and, booooy, is that a powerful friend. Alright. Here we go. Allow me to reintroduce myself * beat drop * * sunglasses face emoji * Hi, I am Cass Didier. And I am a wanna be full-time Social Justice Warrior. But, I, like you wear many other hats too. So hear me out. Please. I know a “Social Justice Warrior” isn’t a cool thing to be. We are often seen as just a phony on the internet, Behind a screen. But hear me out. I feel like I have to put out a million disclaimers about how I am not perfect, And how I am open for change, And truly love a different opinion, Before I put something even a tiny bit vulnerable out there on the Internet. And that says a lot about where we are as a society. That is why I am calling on you, calling on all of us to get more comfortable with Grace Give it. Get it. Because that leads to empathy. And that’s what we NEED. I wasn't able to fully embrace grace until tragedy struck. Until our first son, August, died before we could even see his eyes. There is something so very wrong about that. Complete and total innocence side by side with the absolute worst—death. And that was 2017. Not that long ago. If I can do this. You can do this. But I don’t want you to go through a tragedy to get there if you don’t have to. That’s why I’m here now. Disclaimer alert: We don’t need to be right. But we need to be heard. And we need to be challenged And we need to be validated. By someone. (We’ve shamed ourselves into thinking needing any validation is weak.) We need confidence via validation before we can be our free selves. And we need to make all of this okay so we keep LEARNING. (Oh, hey, one of those hats I wear most often is the hat of “teacher”. Yes, Hello, I am Cass Didier a true full-time teacher. Booooring. Not really, I love it.) Okay, back to the social justice warrior. The internet is very much my lane, folks. I’ve been here since the glory days of GeoCities websites, Live Journals and MySpace. (Remember those days, friends? When we became “experts” in HTML just to create a basic website to hear from other friends in whatever scene we felt comfortable in. I’m talking to you, Central Nebraska music scene circa 2000-06. You are the OGs) This is what I have always done. I’m the weirdo that enjoys a good ‘ole Facebook debate. This is my lane. All of this is just a lot more accessible to eeeeveryone now. And they weren’t all here since the beginning. There is a generation above us that learned this late. And a generation below us that this is all they know. The scope of the impact the internet has had on all of us IS. MASSIVE. Honestly, overwhelming. And that’s ok. Because the internet is a product of all of us. For better or worse. And just because this is my lane, doesn’t mean it needs to be your lane. Truly. You do you. (Just don’t cause INTENTIONAL harm to anyone—behind the screen or in person) Because we need all of us. You see and you feel how loud I can be here. Well I am not that person in person. This I know. I mean, have you seen me in front of a crowd? Gasp. It’s painful. (Hello, 5th grade DARE speech. Hello, Culture Day any year) Yeah, I’m not as loud in person. It is what it is. I am doing my best. When I can, where I can. Day in and day out. And I see and feel how quiet you are online, But I know and value the person you are in person. You're doing the best you can. Day in and day out. You move mountains in person. I want to be so much of you! Just as you are a silent observer online. I am a silent observer in person. And that is ok. Ooof, here it comes: Wait! I don’t feel entirely safe. Societal Contract Proposal: Can we all just agree that all of our statements, comments, opinions should be given the grace to edit because we must always leave space for growth? This is not about the physicality of the “likes”. And I don’t know how to ensure you hear that so I’m going to trust you. Give grace. Get grace. Some of you will hit that “like” or “love” button without any hesitation seconds after I post something funny or cute, while you scroll right by my controversial (“political” if you will * eye roll *) posts. It’s cool. I do it to you too. Plus, algorithms are wacky lately. I feel like I am missing a lot of your content. Plus, several of you are just way busier than I am. But for some reason the blatant ignoring of my posts this time around stung more. It “hit different” as the cool kids say. My posts seemed so clear, so full of good intention. There were multiple posts. Impossible to ignore. I was SCREAMING for help. (The way one does online) And you ignored. I felt unheard. And riots were happening all around us. Pause. You see? “Riots are the language of the unheard” – MLK Jr. Now. Open your scope. Read those lines again and replace my sentiments for any citizen. Especially a black citizen, a brown citizen, a poor person, A citizen not like you. A citizen STRUGGLING. We need to show we are ACTIVELY listening. Less passive listening. We need to show that we are listening. We need to show that we are listening. We need to show that we are listening. And not to everyone, all the time. Gosh, no. That’s not healthy. Or sustainable. Do your part when you can. We can all always do better by each other. I would rather be called “trash”, than to be ignored. At least speaking up, Even in disagreement, Means you’re listening. Means there is a chance for understanding. If you’re feeling targeted right now, Give yourself grace I love you. I promise. And keep reading. I’m speaking to 20 random people. Meaning it honestly doesn’t matter who. Just 20 of you. I did some math. (Not my strength. Give grace.) On average my posts (my voice), get about a 5% engagement rate consistently from my followers—totally cool with this. But I hope you know you’re more than just a follower to me—and maybe that’s what needs to be said louder: we have all of these unspoken roles we play for each other These are people that show up for me from my Jack posts to posts on gun control. They. Show. Up. They validate my feelings. Even in disagreement. Because they are actively showing that they are listening. The number of engagement increases to 13% when I post something easy. When something is funny or cute. So what if I could get that 5% to 10%. Double it. That’s just TWENTY people. (Math people—again—give me grace here. I have approximately 800 followers on each platform. About 40 people consistently show up. 100 show up when it’s easy) ((But let’s be honest, I likely have 400 followers. We all know half of ‘em are bots)) 20 people. To show up. Check in. Say “hi” I’m actively listening. Now back to the looming question we all must grapple with today: Would anyone listen if we didn’t make so much noise? …If the riots wouldn’t have happened? I don’t know. And that is very unsettling to me. Pause. Let’s take keep it wide scope. Imagine if it only took 20 of us to make more people feel heard. Because the world is full of our small worlds. Our small world is our circle. I like my circle where it is. I am happy. I feel successful here. I feel more heard than not. I am privileged. I have zero desire to go viral. My message, sure that can go viral, because if you’re “liking” it you’re thinking it too. That always feels good. My humor, sure. That can go viral. *fingers crossed ;-) But I, as a human, no thanks. I know my lane. It’s here. It’s in this circle. It’s online. And in the classroom (But oddly not online teaching…yet) And the true effectiveness of this message is to my 800 people (minus the bots!) Ok, I might have gotten sidetracked there. TWENTY PEOPLE Wow. There is real hope in that. Let us be heard. And that’s the only way I can think of that we do better for the next generation. The younger generations just took note that it took violence to get here. It took riots and violence to get too many people to listen and engage. And that shouldn’t sit well with anyone. Thank goodness I felt supported by others. Thank goodness for the younger generation. Former and present students, quite frankly, were the loudest in validating my feelings. Thank goodness for my friends. And family. Family that disagrees with me often but loves me regardless. Here is the thing. CLAP CLAP. ARE YOU WITH ME? Many people don’t they have that. That amazing cushion of support. They are the unheard. They need us. It is so clear. Empathize, guys. You don’t have to agree, but WE DO HAVE TO EMPATHIZE. We do. We do. Let this be real clear to my students: There is hope in the future because there is you. I find myself having to practice exactly what I’m preaching to you guys: giving grace. Over and over and over the past week. I’m doing it as we speak. (It’s not something you can test and forget, kids. It’s a skill ) Because this is a BIG deal To me. But it needs to be a big deal to ALL. And it feels like we are getting there. Thank YOU for that. I know the world doesn’t work like how I am alluding I want it to work. I know we can’t all be on board with ALL THE THINGS all the time. We have to have you and I And our beautiful differences. That’s what I ultimately want. Collective and unadulterated empathy. That’s the whole dang goal of this. CELEBRATE DIVERSITY, BABY. So I’m giving grace. Again, it takes a lot of practice. And I am going to let go of the fact that you’re ignoring me during what I think is a monumental event. In time. And, if you’re feeling targeted, please, give me that same grace. I do not want this to cause any more harm, To further divide us. Reach out to me, Please! But I guess that is the test of grace that I am putting out there. A teacher. Giving a test. How predictable. Love you. Truly. History is happening. Let’s learn. ___________________________________________________________________ “Geez, Cass, this sure does seem like an opportunistic time to blog” YOU’RE GOSH DARN RIGHT IT IS. I need change to be able to stick to my lane and teach SPANISH. You know, my full-time gig. Not a single teaching year—I’m on year 12 or 13 I don’t even know anymore—anyhoo, not a single year has gone by where I don’t have to 1) begin the year by bringing down students’* perceived notions that I am against America because I am teaching Spanish. (this is passive racism—if you don’t get why please, please, please let me know. This is important, parents) ***This is a minority of students, but it has to be addressed. We don’t like to leave anyone behind. These 2-4 students are my fire to put out. My Black Lives Matter to All Lives Matter. Or 2) address overt racism statements like “build a wall” or “they took our jobs”. Or 3) the fact that I can’t say “Mexican” without this tension in the room. The word, guys. Just the word makes too many people uncomfortable. What does that say about us!? Okay, stay with me. Please. Grace. Thankfully I have been empowered by communities full of grace who give me the courage to address this as it comes up organically time and time again in class. But I remember the first time I took racism on in the classroom. And I was scared. I did not feel prepared. I was trembling as I attempted to deliver my real time, unedited, raw thoughts on why their behavior was wrong. To EIGHTH graders. This was my second year of teaching. (because, let’s be honest, teachers, we don’t have a clue what we are doing that first year. That is straight up survival) They are now known as the class of 2014. (Hi, guys! <3) Thankfully during these days of my teaching career, I taught in other teachers’ rooms. Meaning there was another adult with me. That gave me courage. It was Rebecca Stark. It was John Harris. It was Lisa Russ. It was a group of unruly 7th graders turned into 8th graders and I was in over my head. It was Zendy Sotelo, mainly. I don’t even know what her feelings were at that time. But on the off chance that she needed an ally I had to be brave. Take that risk. Because it didn’t feel right to not address it. Because, truth is, any kid in that class could have needed an ally. But there she was sitting in class full of voices. (If you know the class of 2014, you know. If you don’t, just imagine the class that made you question if you chose the right career path, but then this class eventually validated that, yes, you are exactly in the right place.) This was the “they took our jobs” era. (Remember, I’m trying to teach about conjugating present tense “ar” verbs and how to use the reading skills of your first language to help your read in your second language. I’m not teaching civics. But we can’t stick to one lane, fam. Life comes at us too fast. We have to be comfortable being uncomfortable. And I had to muster up the courage to stay STOP. LISTEN. And offer an alternate perspective LOUDLY. TO BE HEARD. And did it reach everyone? Ha! All teachers know the fruits of our labor are rarely seen. But I’m hopeful. And it was worth it. Because odds are someone in that room needed an ally. Or maybe just role model in vulnerability? (PS: several of those “kids” are doing simply amazing things right now) My plea to parents: I need us all to keep this line of grace open. For one another. It does start at home. And just as we all can’t teach all the things at home, I can’t teach all the things in Spanish class, but can we make a pact to make modeling grace and empathy a priority everywhere? And then I can be a better teacher of Spanish (or Global Voices or Ethics Bowl) And I can also safely use my classroom to address all that life that is coming at us so quickly. We need each other. Teachers and parents. Our overlap is big. See me. Hear me. We are on the same team. My plea for the educational policy makers: Can you please make a statement loud and clear that teachers CAN talk about controversial topics in class as they arise? And that there is time in a class period to go “off script”? Many of us don’t feel supported in doing so---yet we are faced with this dilemma far too often. Do I stay true to my administration or do I do what I feel is right for this one student? Grace and trust. Please. We are powerful, team. And can you please provide us with affordable and ample resources to help guide us in having constructive difficult conversations? My plea to voters: I know the money is out there for this reform. Jeff. Bezos. This teacher is REAL sick and tired of having active shooter drills. And no time to digest them. In their full, ugly, complicated need. This teacher is REAL sick and tired of being asked to take on so many important roles without getting the support I need. These roles are important and I’m not doing them justice by doing them half-assed: counselor, coach, mom, advocate, entertainer, politician. That support might be better pay. Or more counselors, and coaches on the payroll. Or more time for us to BREATHE in our days. Can you please pay attention to what your representative is pushing for? Is it: Proactive solutions like education and healthcare or Reactive solutions like defense “Where you invest your love, you invest your life” -Mumford and Sons Lol. I cannot believe just used Mumford and Sons in here. *Opinions are solely my own. I have no affiliation with the band. My plea to everyone: Remember, the world is made up of our small worlds. And that’s why we gotta do better to LISTEN to our small world. What I am saying is—keep it local. (And support your local journalist) You know what Trevor Noah is so off-putting to half of you? And Candace Owens is so off-putting to the other half of you? They’re not in our small world. Yes, continue to listen to them. They are FULL of information and knowledge that we can’t unlock somewhere else because they are their own human being—offering a different perspective. And we want that. But remember to bring what you learned from listening to them back to our small world, And check in with local news. They’re right there on the ground with us. Lift them up too. Remember, we are in a world of disinformation. Let’s get that rapport going again, And it won’t have to be us and them. It’ll just be us. DONE. Thank you. If you like what you hear and/or feel, let me know. If you don’t like what hear and/or feel, let me know. IF YOU FIND A TYPO, LET ME KNOW. If you don’t want to let me know, don’t let me know. Love you! It’s been a minute, but, hello! It’s me again. I’ve been crafting this entry in my head since the New Year. Especially since there has been an increase, understandably so, of the “are you getting excited?” inquiries.
Truth is, yes, I’m ----- this much excited and ----------------------------------- this much anxious. Here’s the thing: I’m br(ok)en. (<--idea stolen from an image I came across while scrolling across the many media platforms.) After losing August, I remember writing in my journal about the depths of the word “okay”—it’s super complex, think about it. I’m floating somewhere in the depths behind the word okay every day. And that is okay. I’ve found peace here. I also remember writing about the word “strong”. I remember being so angry at the word “strong”—I still am. Please know that I know people only mean well when they say “oh you’re so strong” or “stay strong”, but, you guys, if being strong means surviving the loss of your child or any loved one I DON’T WANT TO BE STRONG. I’d rather be weak. Seriously. I was strong enough before. No one needs that “test” to be declared “strong”. I still don’t want to be associated with that word. I’m not strong. I’m merely surviving. That’s the only choice I have. I’m br(ok)en and that is okay. Let’s leave strong in the gym? Let’s bring br(ok)en into the light. Let’s honor the depths of “okay”. Let’s also talk about pregnancy after loss. I am beyond grateful. But, I am too guarded to be genuinely excited. Perhaps the feelings can best be summarized by my Tweet: “I’ve been skydiving, ran with the bulls, traveled abroad solo, but scarier than all of that is daring to dream after loss”. If you’re currently pregnant or have recently birthed a baby successfully, maybe stop reading. Or just promise me you won’t take this personally. I want and need more people to understand the perspective of moms who have lost their baby. Pregnancy after loss is:
To end on a higher level of “okay”: Pregnancy after loss is also being comfortable with vulnerability, which I’ll forever be learning how to embrace. There is a lot of power in vulnerability—thanks Brené Brown and No Footprint Too Small for helping me find this. Pregnancy after loss comes with opening the new semester by telling my teenage students the abbreviated story of this pregnancy and hoping they don’t bombard me with sympathy, but with empathy. And, they’re pretty darn good about that. I need them more than they realize in these last two months <3 Disclaimer: I personally didn’t run with the bulls, but I survived HOURS hanging on that fence with a crazy mob all around me ;-) New Year, New World
You guys, I am about to start my 11th year of teaching, meaning I have an entire decade under my belt. I think people get awards or watches or something for sticking with a career this long. If I estimate I teach around 120 students a year, that’s contact with over 1,000 kids by now. 1,000+ stories, 1,000+ opportunities, 1,000+ relationships. Some of “my” (they were never truly “mine”, but, you know, as teachers we take students into our lives more than they’ll ever know) anyway, as I was saying, some of my students have families of their own now, some are getting ready to meet their first group of students, some are studying abroad, and almost all of them are tackling the everyday adventure that is entering adulthood. These relationships are a lot of work, and it doesn’t always seem like work when you’re in the middle of it. However, when summertime rolls around you realize the gravity of that work—you’re really really tired. Speaking of, if you’ve visited with me at all this summer, you know I have probably seemed not nearly as excited to return to the grind as I have in years past. I’ve spent the past two weeks really searching for the “why” to this answer so I can get back to the “why” I teach. I think it’s this: I’m not excited to go back this year, because I’m not excited to go back without August. I started in my new school with the picture of this new, parent life—people got to know me as Cass the pregnant new Spanish teacher. I let go of a lot: a long commute, that coach life, and a community I loved (Wahoo) so I could focus on parenthood. Now I’m returning back to school without my son. I’m Cass the Spanish teacher who lost her baby. I’m not in denial, I’m just sad. I lost a lot of steam losing August. A lot. Most students this year won’t know me from before, they’ll just know this me. A little sadder, a little angrier. I’m not excited to go back this year because how can I expect the kids to like me, if I’m still learning to like me too. Insert two significant events to happen this summer:
That said, I’m looking forward to year two at WHS, because I know I’m in a spot where I can exercise my goals and pursue my passions—thank you, #thevikelife :-) Hoping get back to my goals by…
I’m trying to focusing on what I can offer this year, and acknowledging that an angrier, sadder me might have something to offer, it certainly adds depth to my character. I'll be reminding myself often that “feelings are neither good nor bad they just are”. I’m positive this mantra will come in handy as I learn about the 120 stories in my classroom on any given day (no really, if you know teenagers, you know this too--so many emotions). A traveler’s heart feels exhausted yet recharged at the same time.
I feel so many feels at the moment, mainly I feel more at peace with myself than I have in almost nine months. For two and a half weeks I was truly living in the land of the living. I noticed today as I went to the grocery store that I walk straighter, smile easier and am looking forward to the little tasks I have ahead—seriously—like paying a bill, walking the pups and unpacking. I am home! At times it was a long 18 days away from the comfort of people who know my story, but at times, especially the last 2 days in Lima, it felt like the experience was over way too soon. I had a lot left to give and learn in Peru. We must first teach kids to love the world if we ever want them to save the world. This is the quote that has been driving my teaching career since the beginning. I naturally let it take over all of my travel experiences. I honestly think being global and sharing these experiences is the largest part of my being. So thanks for listening ;-) That being said I wish I could introduce you all personally to the staff and students of Santa Teresa de la Inmaculada (STI). An all-girls public school, the very best in the area, situated in the small town of San Pedro de Lloc. If you enter, even as a gringa stranger from abroad, you’ll be immediately greeted with “Paz y Bien” (Peace and Goodness). And you’ll hear that phrase from everyone all day long, and it’ll reach your core and lift you up <3 We hit the jackpot of host teachers with Gladys. That woman is INCREDIBLE. She commutes TWO HOURS ONE WAY to work every single day. She brings a reusable bag while shopping in communities where plastic is winning. She laughs at my silly one-liners. She’s a lover of learning. She has inspired me to do better in learning Spanish on my own, and I am finally excited about that, not burdened like I have been in the past. My students deserve a better Spanish teacher and I know this now because of Gladys, Diana, and my experience at STI. I’ve always struggled with identifying as a Spanish teacher because my level of Spanish is so low and so awful. Don’t get me wrong, I have genuinely enjoyed teaching Spanish all of these years because I have been able to use it as a platform for Global Education. And occasionally teaching some youngins how to habla ;-) I was just never a good language learner. It’s a lot of work. I even failed my language placement exam at Wesleyan. Thankfully I ended up in Professora Trayer’s classroom. Somehow managed to minor in the language. And now, the rest is history. Anyhoo, the students and staff at STI were so thrilled to hear me speak ANY Spanish that I felt safe to practice, I wanted to practice. I hope they felt the same security with me to continue to want to practice and learn English. Peru's goal is to be a bilingual country by 2030. This goal is very contrary to my experience of teaching a world language in the U.S.. In my years of teaching Spanish, I have felt a lot of resistance to learning Spanish, and have heard more than once, this eye-rolling phrase: “Why do we have to learn Spanish? This is America” As though me teaching Spanish is going to ruin “America*” This *America must = White-Anglo, English speaking, United States of America still coming to terms, or in denial, of much of our history—we’re a bunch of immigrants—and largely ignoring all things native to America—especially the people. I need to be a better Spanish teacher, yes, but I need a community—a country, really—that values language learning. I don’t see or feel that happening. Yet. Will it? Interested in hearing your thoughts or experiences. I want people to be as patient and excited with English language learners here, as people are with me attempting to speak Spanish abroad. No solid transition here but can we talk about unity in America, and by America, I mean all that is North and South America. Think of all of the amazing human beings on these continents. How we should be embracing “America” instead of being afraid of anyone who isn’t from the United States or Canada or thinking less than of someone who can’t speak English well. America should, would, could be a beautiful powerhouse. I suppose my first battle is in reminding people of the U.S. that “America” is more than just the U.S. In my short time in Peru I was completely taken aback by how well received Venezuelans are in Peru. Just as Peruvians were welcomed in Venezuela once during a time of crisis, now Peru is returning the hospitality to Venezuelans. I promise I am not making this up. Venezuelans are able to start their own business, continue going to school alongside Peruvians and find healthcare. No animosity. No one crying out “they’re taking our jobs”. It was refreshing. *Yes, I’m sure there are Peruvians who are not thrilled with the recent influx of immigrants, but that was definitely not the national feeling. Who is going to take in U.S. citizens if (or when) the time comes? Abrupt ending here, but more to come I’m sure: I can’t thank Teachers for Global Classrooms and the U.S. Department of State for this experience enough. I also can’t wait for some of my colleagues to apply so we can really exchange stories and bring the world to our Nebraskan students. Nebraska has a lot to proud of, especially in terms of public education, and we are very underrepresented in programs such as this--so c'mon, get out there! Late Sunday night, Diana and I (Diana is my co-teacher from Andover, MA near Boston) arrived in the community where we are teaching this week. The town is called San Pedro de Lloc (population: 16,500), and our hotel is in another town, a little bigger, called Pacasmayo (population: 27,500). It’s about a 15 minute commute that costs 4 soles for both of us--$1.20ish USD total.
Our hotel overlooks the Pacific Ocean, yes, it’s as amazing as you’d think. It’s not a touristy area, it’s just straight up ocean and local people. Super peaceful. I go to bed to sounds of waves. Our rooms cost $32 a night. You might have to pay me to leave. On Monday we were welcomed by the entire school at their morning assembly. School starts at 7:30 and ends at 3:15 with an hour for lunch. This school is an all-girls catholic school serving all grade levels. Primary school is grades 1-6th and secondary school is grades 1st-5th, equivalent to US grades 7th-11th. We observed several classes and introduced ourselves in Gladys’s English classes. Gladys is our awesome host teacher <3 She loves her job so much that she commutes from Trujillo everyday—that’s a 2 hour commute one way! However, on Monday, we spent the majority of our time crafting our presentation for that evening. Diana and I were asked to host a four-hour workshop for 40 English teachers from the area. Talk about pressure! Ayi yi yi! We knew very little about our guests and nothing about their curriculum. No one likes when someone who doesn’t know what you do each day tries to tell you what to do. I did not want to be that person. Plus, you know me, I get nervous before presenting in front of anyone I don’t know very well. But! It went over so well! We could have hosted an all-day workshop. There were so many fabulous ideas being shared in the room. Kahoot has officially arrived in Peru ;-) Afterwards, we stayed for an extra 30 minutes taking pictures with the group. I felt like a celebrity! People even wanted us to email them our PowerPoint! Today we arrived at school around 9:00, when Gladys’s first class begins (she has first period plan so to speak), but today was a special day. Today was PERU VS. AUSTRALIA. The whole school gathered outside on the patio area to watch the game. It. Was. Amazing. Such a community! Aaaand it probably helps that they won ;-) After the game we attended a few more classes, including a computer class to describe the differences between technology at our schools. At the end of the day we were able to help Gladys in her English class as students talked to us about their likes and dislikes. Lots of fun! These girls and the staff are so so so welcoming! I can’t wait to give them the books that you donated and the WHS basketballs WHS—they are just so darn excited all the time. They want to learn English but there is a definite need to get more English to in their hands via books, movies, music, etc. That pipeline of supplies, especially authentic books, from us to them will continue. Keep collecting! Notable moment today: if I say the word “selfie”, the whole school gathers. Notable moment #2: I’m ending the work day at our hotel on the balcony writing this blog. Not bad. C Diddy Reflect: Not nearly as deep of a reflection in this post. Two main points: community and art. In my week or so of observing Peruvian classrooms one theme I see over and over again is an overwhelming sense of community in the school. Examples: Every morning the school day begins with an assembly where all students stand in very orderly lines, the principal/director/sister makes a few announcements and they take an opportunity to celebrate any successes—four girls won medals at a nearby track meet on the weekend. The whole school gathered to watch the World Cup game of Peru vs Australia today. Staff and students celebrated together. Goosebumps. The incredible hospitality towards someone who is new to the community. I can only hope that our schools in the U.S. are half as welcoming as every single Peruvian school has been. Every day I walk into school I am greeted by dozens of girls wanting to say hello or say anything really. The use of plazas in every town as a gathering place for people of all ages. It’s great. People getting out of their houses. And, oh the celebrations, almost every night there is a band or dance or a parade that the community rallies around. My second observation is “wow” at all of the art work the students do. Even a quick little doodle to express “I like to dance” is lightyears ahead of my drawing skills. You should see their notebooks! Exceptional handwriting, extremely organized. And that’s just business as usual. There is so much color in the classrooms, also contributing to the welcoming environment. A lot of pride in all that they do. In sum: Peruvians are beautiful people, inside and out. Yesterday, before departing to our host communities, we were challenged to think about education and culture from an anthropological perspective, lecture style, from Dr. Juan Carlos Callirgos. His presentation was perfect timing as my last entry was hovering around the question: “how do we preserve culture within communities/countries while still embracing the global community?” How do we avoid “ethnocide” within our education system?
It very much seems as though the Peruvian public school system, and the American public school system to a large degree, failed—and are still failing—to honor the knowledge within cultures or parents. For decades we have asked students to conform to the institution, not for the institution to adapt to the students we are serving. We watched a short film on this subject, but mainly about the inequalities in education for Peruvian women called “La Escuela de Siliencia”. There was a scene where a Peruvian girl of about 16 years in age was being interviewed because she had to drop of school to help her family at home, meanwhile her brothers were able to continue. The parents believed it was a better investment to continue sending the boys to school because they are more likely to finish—walking to school is safer for them, they do not have to worry about pregnancies with boys, and a multitude of other reasons. Anyhoo, the narrator asked this girl, “What are you doing all day now that you are not at school?” She replied along the lines of “nothing”, even though in this very scene she was taking care of the animals, cooking for her family and sewing beautiful bracelets and scarves. I see this in American schools too. Several of my students are skilled in farming, hunting, sewing, digital media, etc., and could be even more talented if we honored these skills, but we don’t. We do not express enough that education is so much more than reading, writing and math. I have thought this for many years as I struggle to motivate students to want to learn Spanish as 15 year-olds. They are often completely burnt out with “the system” by the time the reach high school. And understandably so. We are forcing what we deem as important day after day, while telling them that their YouTube channel is “less than”. That the fish they just caught, prepared and served is great and all, but they should really spend more time studying these math equations. Students, if you’re reading, I hope you know that at the end of the day I don’t really care if you can conjugate an “ir” verb in the imperfect tense. I care that you are a decent human being. Why aren’t we doing more to honor our students’ skills outside of reading, writing and math? I so wish I could change a tire, sew anything or simply cook a decent meal, but I never wanted to learn because I was too focused on doing well within the college track. And this track didn’t allow time or award credit for these classes. Big questions: Are we currently promoting ethnocide in public schools? If so, to what degree? Is it too late to reverse? Peru’s educational system is national, meaning everyone is to learn the same material. This happens in the U.S. as well, but I’m very thankful our states have more local control. Even our districts have more power than any city in Peru. Change can happen quicker for us, and I feel as though we as teachers or communities have more of a voice. The problem within Peru’s educational system seems to be the growing gap in the quality of public vs. private schools. Public schools don’t always have the funds to operate day to day let alone the funds to ensure that schools are meeting schools where they are. I have heard of at least two stories where a textbook in the highlands (in the mountains of rural Peru), includes questions about communities featuring a neighborhood in Lima (nice sidewalks, streets that function on an organized grid, a person walking a dog on a leash—all unheard of in the highlands community). Meanwhile the students in the private schools continue to learn in their bubbles—little exposure to racial or economic diversity. “For school to work it needs to be in tune with society” The bubble that private school students live in, or the bubble that public school students are forced to live by default in cannot be good for the society at large, right? We see this in the U.S. too, but it seems much worse in Peru. And, shutout to Nebraska public schools, because every time I am I listen to others from around the U.S. I realize how much of a mess public education could be, but I don’t feel that “mess” has reached Nebraska. Yet. Let’s keep it that way. I love sharing a room with students from all backgrounds. I love our inclusive school communities. Food for thought: Did you know Denmark has no private schools? Leading me, someone who has never spent significant time in private schools, to really lean towards the same--a country with only public schools and more pride within them. There was a small period of time in high school where some of my friends used the nickname “Cass America” for me. Never has that name felt so right than in just these past two days.
At the U.S. Embassy—which had more security than the U.N. or any airport—we learned all about the current political and educational climate / state of affairs across Peru. It seems just about as messy as conditions in the U.S. More to report on this later when we tour and teach in schools. At the Fulbright Commission we listened to an incredible presentation of Dr. Laura Balbuena’s dissertation on Abimael Guzman, leader of “The Shining Path”*, and the role of education as a vessel in the “recruitment” (maybe not the best word, but the best I can think of at this time) of this communist group—now recognized as a terrorist group. *Obviously you can Google “Shining Path”, or “Sendero Luminoso”, to learn more, but hearing it first hand from a professor—professors were huge targets for this terrorist group—is much more powerful. In my limited experience and knowledge of terrorist groups or cults the only conclusion I am able to make right now is: Guzman was a cult leader, he was very well educated, had educated followers and was able to manipulate rural uneducated (in the traditional sense of education) people who felt neglected by their government who, at the time in the 1980s-1990s, were focused almost entirely on just Lima. Guzman and “The Shining Path” exploited the weakness in the education system; schools neglected to teach critical thinking, solely using memorization to deliver content. Guzman was a professor, recruited other professors and, well, you know the ripple effect teachers can have on society for better or for worse—this guy was for worse. (I can’t say this enough: this is a very, very abbreviated version of the story.) Due to Shining Path, Peru ended up being in an armed internal conflict for 2-3 decades where at least 70,000 people perished, often brutally murdered. After this presentation, I think our entire cohort is ready for Netflix to create a docuseries on the Shining Path. To our knowledge this isn’t even in the works, but we are ready for it. In my mind it would be a blend of Narcos, Waco and The Unabomber, but maybe even better because it’s such a blend. I mean Guzman was even dubbed “Champú”, yes, shampoo, because of his ability to brainwash people. I could go on and on, seriously, I haven’t even touched the role of women in The Shining Path—who made up the majority of the group! *shocked face* “omg, right?”—but I’ll stop here for now because I have so much more to learn before I feel comfortable sharing. C Diddy Reflects :-) Throughout all of these presentations, I keep circling around the question: “How can we or how are we, as global communities, preserving our nationalism while embracing the global community/each other?” At this present time, I just feel as though Peru does a much better job of being patriotic while still wanting to be an active, positive contributor to the global community than the U.S. Peruvians seem to embrace their history, their complicated and sometimes ugly past, far better than we do. For example, when walking by the cathedral where Francisco Pizzaro--aka the Spanish conquistador who ended the Incan empire--is buried I asked if there is any present-day animosity towards him. She replied “it’s just part of our painting”. This would be like asking an American if there is any present-day animosity towards the European colonization of the United States or how we feel about our history with slavery and, yes, I think there is a lot of animosity here. We are very uncomfortable with our past, correct? We struggle every day with the right words to describe the many conflicts in our country, past and present. We shudder at the phrase “politically correct” because some believe that by being “PC” you aren’t being “real”, but, to me, being politically correct means trying to present your point while taking in the many accounts of others, the many perspectives. Why is it important to be PC? Because being politically correct is modeling critical thinking, yeah? And when we are learning or teaching to think critically we are learning how to not be products of rote memorization—the weakness in the education system of Peru that led Shining Path to exploit for recruitment and lead to a civil war. (Again, very abbreviated here.) Wow. INFORMATION OVERLOAD. Just had to get that out. I still have more coming, especially in regards to nationalism and the ‘murica culture we find ourselves in at the moment, but I’m hungry and must work on a presentation of American culture. No pressure, right? Eeeps. Pictures to follow as well. As many of you know, in the summer of 2016 I was notified that I was selected to be in The U.S. Department of State’s “Teachers for Global Classrooms” (TGC) program, which now is recognized as a Fulbright program. Such an honor! Fittingly I was in Peru with students when I read the congratulatory email.
In December of 2016 I learned my international TGC field experience would be in India. How exciting! Fast forward to present day to recognize the year long pause in my TGC fellowship: August Fredrick Didier. In March of 2017 I received the best news of all, better than any travel: Tom and I were expecting our first child. Small tangent here, but part of the story that is us: the news of our pregnancy felt like some sort of a miracle. Tom had been cancer free and clear from chemo for a year. We were told that conceiving a child could be difficult or might not happen at all. Essentially, I took that information as “don’t get your hopes up” and tried to make peace with it all. Fortunately, the team at TGC allowed my travel to be deferred for a year, easing my mind about traveling so far away while pregnant, and for such an extended time without Tom. (Note: We did get to have that first family vacation by sponsoring a student travel trip to, none other than, Peru in summer of 2017.) However, despite a perfect, full-term pregnancy, we had to say hello and goodbye to August on November 15th, 2017. Tomorrow (also Tom’s birthday) I will resume my TGC fellowship. I was placed in Peru instead of India and, honestly, Peru feels right. It feels full circle. I felt compelled to share this pre-travel post, because in my last blog post I left off by saying “Humans are stories. Think of the good we can create knowing our stories”. This is my (ongoing) story. Maybe it will bring some good. Disclaimer: Long post ahead—not really related to travel at all. And I’m posting this long post because I’m learning to embrace vulnerability every day. I’m posting because people I hold near and dear are hurting today. I’m posting because someone I don’t know is hurting. I’m posting because we are all living the human experience. I’m posting because sharing might make the human experience a little less lonely and a little more compassionate. Stillbirth happens to 1 out of every 167 births in the U.S. That’s less than 1%. It’s not something we talk about because no one wants to be reminded that it happens. We want pregnancy and babies to be the blissful experience they are meant to be 99.95% of the time. In fact, I kind of don’t want anyone who is pregnant to read this right now. I don’t want your mind to go there. Remain blissful. Being a “loss mom” means often feeling like some “Angel of Death”. Feeling as though you’re giving off bad vibes to all babies in-utero. Or feeling that your messages of “congratulations” on births and pregnancy announcements aren’t as sincere, that they are tinged with the ugly feeling of jealously—and there is some awful truth to that. There’s some darkness behind all seemingly happy, well wishes. Being a loss mom is also “I can’t bring myself to ‘like’ that beautiful picture of your happy baby and your happy family”, and then immediately beating yourself up because you feel like a terrible, selfish person. Your grief is preventing you from being the good friend you want to be or knew how to be. Loss sucks. It sucks a lot. It’s so many bad words. You know in your brain that these thoughts are often products of overthinking, people will love you regardless. You’ve lost someone you love and you’ve lost such a big part of yourself—namely, your innocence. But you can’t rid those feelings. It’s lonely. It’s isolating. It’s such wicked a mind game. *And, yes, I know I’ve gained from loss too; I’ve gained more perspective. More depth. Friendships. Empathy. But I don’t want to honor that just yet. I am broken and that is okay. August’s life is a reminder to me on how little control we have on our own lives. Life is fragile. I’ll never know if August would be here today if I had traveled to India. I realize that deferring travel was me thinking I had control over the outcome. We are so desperate to think we have control in our lives we reach for ideas like “maybe if I remove this Mayan mask from our home our bad luck will go away” or “maybe if I hadn’t had that cup of coffee August would be here”. But I know I have little control, and I know I must give myself grace. I am very aware babies survive under much worse circumstances—war, drugs, disease. I, Cass Didier, full-fledged believer in “put good out in the world, get good in return” am still struggling to accept vulnerability. In simple form: Bad stuff happens. There doesn’t have to be a reason. I can continue on the exhausting path of “finding a reason” or I can be in the present. And I, believer in all things good, am very much struggling to accept the truth: no matter how much good I try to put out in the world, some “mystery event” I simply could not prevent disrupted the balance of nutrients between (my*) the umbilical cord and August. He was so ready to go, you guys. He had everything he needed. (*Being a “loss mom” means not even wanting to claim ownership for the umbilical cord because if it was your umbilical cord it would have worked. If we had any control we wouldn’t be in this situation. Being a loss mom means hating to have to say “we lost our baby” because we most certainly didn’t lose our babies. Those words seem to imply that we had control over the life and loss of our baby. And we didn’t.) Fortunately, I can write this now because I know that someone before me has walked this path. I am not alone. Fortunately, I can write this post now because I found strength in of all of you who were vulnerable and brave enough to reach out to share your own stories. I’m not alone. Unfortunately, someone is suffering loss right now. We cannot prevent loss. But we can send the comforting message of: You are not alone. I knew of only one mom who openly shared her stillbirth story with me while I was still blissfully pregnant. I am thankful she did, because that single story made me feel a little less of a failure when we were introduced to our beautiful son. Sharing our stories is important. Story telling can light up our many paths. Hey lovelies! I've recently returned from a quick trip to D.C. where I was able to meet all of the Teachers for Global Classrooms (TGC) fellows. Very inspiring! Still pinching myself that I get to be part of this amazing program. We focused a lot on stories, storytelling, the dangers of a single story, and our own single stories. When I travel to India I'll be representing the United States, but I'll also be reppin' so much more: Nebraska!, women, teachers, etc. It's my story. It can be a lot of pressure to carry and it is definitely a privilege. Feeling overwhelmingly grateful. Humans are stories, not statistics. "Think of the good we can create knowing our stories" Listen. My story includes all of you: my family, friends, coworkers and students. So in a way you're all coming to India too 😊 You've made an impact on my life and contributed to this ongoing story I call life. And it's been a pretty sweet life! Thank you! ❤ I was also able to meet the 12 fellows whom I'll get to travel with this summer. We are from all over: California, North Carolina, Maryland, Georgia, Louisiana, Hawaii, Illinois and more! I was introduced to the term "Delhi Belly", yes, I'm ready, and I was reminded just how big India is: a 70 hour train ride from the southern to the northern tip. I'm thankful my acting administrator, Abbie, was able to join me and am hoping more Wahoo and/or Nebraska teachers join this program soon. Global education IS 21st education. Our students need to be globally competent in this ever increasingly interconnected world. We need more Nebraskans on board. After just two days I'm certain Abbie agrees with this sentiment. A Global citizen is a friend to the entire human race. Speaking of Nebraskan teachers, never have I been more proud of our state and our public schools as I was this weekend. There is a lot of terrible, unfortunate legislation out there that seems to be doing nothing but killing the passion and respect for our professions. Several fellows had to pay for their substitutes and take vacation time to attend this weekend. Some states are no longer compensating teachers for furthering their education. Salaries have been capped at $51,000 (after 25 years of experience) "Forced" choice schools are becoming more relevant with little accountability and little opportunity for inclusion. But here in the good life, quality education remains a priority. Thank you, Nebraska, for holding education and educators in high regard. Let's keep it that way. ❤ Please watch the video below and, until next time, please remember we have more in common than not. Keep being the good. PLO (peace love out!) 😎 Cass
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AuthorCass Didier is a teacher at Waverly High School in Nebraska. She will be traveling to Peru with TGC (Teacher for Global Classrooms) in the summer of 2018. Archives
August 2018
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