A Light Shines in Charlottesville: an Ode to Joe

August 20, 2017August 20, 2017 / MsStovall313 / Leave a comment

Let me tell you about one of my favorite humans, Joe Beard.

I’m unfortunately one of those teachers who has difficulty with work/life balance. When other more healthy teachers jet off to gyms, happy hour plans, or children, I’m usually in my slippers slippin’ around my classroom hoping to make enough noise to keep the nocturnal mice away. I’ve gotten much, much better than my first few years when I was known to leave school at the same time some people were leaving bars. Once, a former division head described me as someone who “burns a candle at both ends.”

Even though I’ve upped my social life and have reluctantly allowed some of my extracurricular school activities to be pried from my stone cold fists, I still have my occasional late nights. And they aren’t awful thanks to the night security guard Joe Beard.

You see, after my 8th period students shuffle or sashay out of my classroom, Joe will usually pop his head in to see how my day was and if I was staying late. If I was staying late, Joe would find ways to brighten my evening through frequent check ins, grabbing a seat in one of my big blue chairs, and telling jokes or making fun of me (with love of course). He’d keep me company while I graded quizzes or made lesson plans.

Sometimes Joe doesn’t catch me before I leave my classroom to do my usual 15-25 minute “hallway roam,” where I aimlessly walk the hallways talking to kids or waving at teacher friends in their classrooms. I’m a bit like one of those puppies who spins around and around before she finally feels comfortable and settles down. On those days, I’d often find Joe outside my classroom upon my return scolding me for not locking my door and having students sneak in my room to hang out. He was always worried about my valuables getting stolen, and he was always concerned with my safety and happiness. He did the same for the students who sought respite in my classroom.

If we are lucky, we will all have a Joe in our lives, a person who goes out of his or her way to be a constant flicker of light on not just our thunderstorm days, but also on those days where the added sunshine makes our beautiful days even more technicolor. And sometimes, if you are like me, you’ll take that light for granted, and you won’t realize how much energy you were getting from it until something snuffs out the light.

Joe suddenly passed away peacefully in his sleep on July 3rd, 2017. I found out from a former student, and the clouds rolled in and scrubbed the sheen from my summer. During his funeral, I sat next to one of my former students, and as life amateurs, neither of us had tissues. After a while, we gave up trying to stop our mascara from making black diamond ski trails down our cheeks until finally someone rescued us with some toilet paper. I spent the rest of the summer dreading returning to school as I’ve not felt ready to feel the emptiness of Joe’s absence.

Pictures of Joe from the cover of his memorial program.

I felt cloudy until this weekend when I prepared for students to start school on Tuesday. I started reflecting on the fact that Joe had given me an incredible gift. And so, in his honor this year, my mantra will be to be more like Joe. Instead of being that quasi-selfish “burning the candle at both ends” person, I want to be the light that brightens other people’s days. I’d like to think that Joe would love that, that I’m honoring him in that way by checking on people after school, making them laugh, and reminding them each and every day that they are important, that they matter. For that is what Joe gave to me. Because of him, I’ve never felt alone in a world that can be lonely.

So in this turbulent time where the heat of hate is radiating from marches in Charlottesville and around the country, I will make sure that love blazes brighter. In this way, I’ll make sure that Joseph Kenneth Beard will shine on.

I hope you will do the same in honor of the Joe in your life as well. In the thick of these whitewashed storms funneling in, we will all need the light in the darkness.

Let’s all buckle down and get our flashlights out, as our lights aren’t going anywhere. We will radiate love, respect, and empathy. Come what may, we must remember that Hope Dies Last.

To Joe.

Tour Our Classroom! Room 313 in Pictures

April 2, 2017April 2, 2017 / MsStovall313 / 6 Comments

Welcome to room 313!

One of the best compliments I’ve ever received is a student telling me that my classroom felt like home. A colleague was running a workshop with my students, and they had to fill out these little color coded cards: light orange for important people in their lives, dark orange for important goals for themselves, green for important memories, and a peachy shade for important places. As I walk happily gallery-walking around the space to check out their lists, I halted when I saw this particular line of squares:

“My room?” I questioned, blinking uncomfortably fast to keep from showing that I was tearing up. “Yeah,” the student replied. Another student called, “It’s on my list too!”

The fact that a classroom can make a list of important places is important to me. Over the last ten years, I’ve become increasingly interested in classroom space and how a classroom’s look and feel contributes to students’ socio-emotional health and academic success. I grew up with the inspiration of my mum’s amazingly decorated third grade classroom. I know how I felt special and excited to learn in her room, and I wanted my own students to feel the same way. But yet, when I Googled or Pinterested (is that a verb yet?) “classroom decor,” 97.8% of the examples came from elementary and middle school spaces.

High schoolers deserve non-sterile and creative spaces to learn just as much as they still deserve scratch and sniff stickers (although the other week I accidentally gave them stickers that smelled like dirt, and I had to beg them to believe that I didn’t think their work was dirt).

And so I improvised and modified. At first, I decorated with mostly things that I loved. I put up pictures of my favorite books. I decorated entire walls with zombie memorabilia (did you know I have an obsession with zombies?). I hung postcards of my favorite places that I’ve traveled.

It begins in August. This is what my trunk looked like going into this school year. I think it took six different shops to get all of the supplies I need. Don’t worry–I’m a bargain hunting machine!

But you know what I realized? The classroom isn’t about me. In fact, I should switch the pronoun from “my classroom” to “our classroom.” If I want to support the multiple identities of my students, I need to make sure that the objects in my classroom reflect that value. And so, I started putting up things my students liked, as well as their work. I hung up gifts that they gave me. I handmade mailboxes so that each student could have a space to hold their journals and important papers. I now change my classroom each year with each new group of students, and it also changes throughout the year as we evolve throughout the year.

It’s made all of the difference. It used to be that after the bell rang at 3:04, my room would whoosh into silence after being filled with so much student chatter. But now, the voices and laughter can be found until I put on my coat, sometimes at 5:30 at night, while I exclaim, “I love you, but I really do have to go now!”

Above my door on the inside. Basketball hoop is key! Whenever my students are featured in news articles, I paste them underneath the ‘313 in the News” sign I made out of poster materials from Walgreens. The basketball hoop is one of my favorite additions to my classroom. Students shoot before school, in between classes, and after school. Some intense debates have been settled through shoot offs! I have some really squirrely freshmen in study hall, and they run from their previous class to get four and a half minutes of a basketball game in before the bell rings. And let me tell you, they get quite intense and once drew blood while a sub was there, but it makes study hall go much more quietly and smoothly in the long run. Trust me!

I love this idea for exit slips; thanks Pinterest! It’s awesome to have students (or teachers, as this picture shows reflections from a professional development workshop I gave) stick their musings to the door on the way out!

The bottom of my door on the inside. I got these felt stick-on letters in the bargain bin at Target!

I love doing warm fuzzies with my seniors. Students write warm fuzzies (little notes of appreciation and love that make you feel all “warm and fuzzy” inside after you read them) to each other all semester long, and then the students get to take their stuffed envelope with them as a parting graduation gift. Sometimes I buy fancy ones like this from the Chicago Teacher Store.

But if I’m low on cash, I’ll sneak these plain envelopes from the Division office and have students decorate them with pictures and words that best represent them.

One of my favorite additions this year is a life sized Frederick Douglass. Not only is he one of my all time heroes, but he is also a quiet and important watchful force in the room. I mean, seeing as this man sacrificed everything to read and write to gain his freedom, what student would dare not read in from of Freddie D. Right? (And he really is huge. I’m 5’11 to put him to scale).

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Shuffle Along, or How a Musical Can Teach Us to Remember and Treasure Black Art

July 27, 2016July 27, 2016 / MsStovall313 / 3 Comments

Enjoying my summer in NYC for an NEH grant.

I have always been a closet fanatic of musicals. I say “closet” as my bank account does not possess the sort of balance required to see the array of musicals I’d have to see in order to be considered a true connoisseur (I have never seen things like Cats or Phantom, for example). But I do enter lotteries and try to score rush tickets, so I’ve gotten to see things from The Lion King to Rent to The Book of Mormon. When alone in my apartment, if I’m not fervently listening to my latest audiobook (the current one being Jesmyn Ward’s The Men We Reaped), I’m singing along to Broadway showtunes. Believe me, I’ve put on some pretty elaborate productions complete with Rockette kick lines while washing dishes and making my bed. Idina Menzel would be proud.

I’m spending two weeks in the great New York City for a pretty amazing National Endowment of the Humanities seminar called “Freedom for One, Freedom for All? Abolition and Woman Suffrage 1830-1920.” As history is cyclical, it is so fascinating to see how relevant the issues of voting rights, the right to love, and the disenfranchisement of people of color are still so stubbornly present in today’s culture. It’s been an amazing seminar so far, but quite emotionally intense with a pretty hefty workload. I’m still able to see some of New York, but on each train ride, you can find me frantically reading and annotating our readings to and from my daily adventure.

Our two core texts for the institute.

Even though I’m trying desperately to save pennies, thanks to my new friend Laurie, I heard that the musical Shuffle Along, or the Making of the Musical Sensation of 1921 and All that Followed was closing for good. The post-reconstruction era and the Harlem Renaissance are two of my favorite times in history to teach. Not to mention that I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see the Audra McDonald live. And Tony winner Billy Porter. And Tony winner Brian Stokes Mitchell. And nominee Joshua Henry… And well, you get the point. The show is pretty much packed with some of the best talent on earth.

But tickets were sold out. I refreshed the seatgeek app several times an hour hoping that someone would give up his ticket, and I put up on ad on Craigslist. And then, on Saturday evening—the day before the show closing–some tickets suddenly popped up on the screen for the final show, and I typed in the numbers on my credit card faster than I could consider the price (I paid face value. But still). I would find out later that Audra McDonald called off and stated that she would not perform as the care of her baby comes first (did I mention that she tap dances, does incredible high kicks, and belts her esophagus out, all while in her second trimester?!), which is why so many people gave up their tickets. I’m glad that I a) did not know this fact and b) was happy to see that Audra did in fact perform the show closing. She is one phenomenal woman.

As seen outside the theater. #truth

I’ve never even so much as gone to a movie by myself, so I was a little intrigued to go a large broadway show stag. But I was fourth row center, so I figured that the performers will feel very much like my companions for the evening. It was an amazing experience to be almost close enough that if a character was downstage, he or she could spit on me when they over-enunciated words. It turns out that half of my row was solo, and so we found ourselves talking eagerly together in anticipation of the curtain opening.

It was thrilling to be in the caffeine of the packed house. And it really was packed, as people even stood and shifted their weight from foot to foot in their jagged line against the back wall of the theater. The only seemingly empty seat in the house was the one to my left. About two minutes before the opening note, an attractive man snuck into the seat next to me. “You made it!” I exclaimed with such exuberance, I’m pretty sure that the people in our close vicinity thought that we were friends.

“I better have,” he said, wiping sweat off of his forehead. “I called off in order to be here for this.”

“Oh?” I said. “What show are you in?”

“Motown the Musical,” he replied, looking a little embarrassed.

“What?! Cool! What role do you play?” I was suddenly proud my solo seat family thought we were friends.

“Marvin Gaye.”

“That’s so awesome! That musical is on my list of musicals to see!”

The light went out a little bit in his eyes. “You better go soon. We close next week.”

I had obviously struck a chord, and I stuttered a bit in my response. “Oh man, that’s terrible.”

“Yeah,” he said, not making eye contact, “The social climate is changing. It’s not one that’s as open for shows like us…”

He got cut off as the lights started to dim and people began cheering in anticipation at the start of the show. I clapped and hollered too, but what he said stung and the irony was not lost on me. Shows like us. Shows featuring predominately Black casts?

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A Powerful Pōwhiri in Pictures

October 7, 2015October 8, 2015 / MsStovall313 / 2 Comments

I need pictures to say the thousand words I wish I could use to describe the incredible week I’ve just experienced.

During my time in New Zealand, (click here for a recent article on my Fulbright research and the subsequent exchange) working with indigenous Māori people allowed me the opportunity to witness first hand the profoundly positive impact that placing culture and heritage first in education has on eliminating the racial predictability of student academic achievement. I came back from my Fulbright experience a changed human. The trip inspired me to find my roots and ancestry through embracing the land, sea, and where I come from. Although my students couldn’t go to New Zealand this year, this exchange to Oak Park allowed my students to witness a new culture and ignite curiosities that will inspire them explore to US and the world in the future.

Through a serendipitous encounter in Rotorua, New Zealand (blog post to come), I had the great privilege to collaborate with Raewyn Tipene, the amazing CEO of the Te Kāpehu Whetū school in Whangarei, New Zealand, and together we worked on a cultural exchange between our two schools. It was meant to be, as the world renowned Field Museum has one of three marae, or Māori meeting houses, outside of New Zealand. The marae comes from the iwi (tribe) in Tokomaru Bay, and some of the students from the New Zealand school have ancestors from there.

In order to welcome them appropriately, we completed a pōwhiri , or a traditional welcome ceremony. And I can’t explain how much it touched me to bring 80 students and have them feel how I felt a year ago this week when I went through my own first pōwhiri . Because I can’t even attempt to adequately explain it, I’m using these pictures (best ones are towards the end!), taken by the amazing Fredy Peralta through APJ Photography. I hope they can speak the words I cannot write. Enjoy!

Photo credit: APJ Photography
The marae (or the meeting house) is ready for the ceremony.

Photo credit: APJ Photography
The beautiful marae

Photo credit: APJ Photography
The Marae

Photo credit: APJ Photography
The marae

Photo credit: APJ Photography The Field Museum's Mary Ann Bloom does the welcome call for our guests to enter.

Photo credit: APJ Photography
The Field Museum’s Mary Ann Bloom does the karanga, or call for our manuhiri tūārangi, guests from afar to enter.

Photo credit: APJ Photography
Te Kāpehu Whetū enters the space while we all stand.

Photo credit: APJ Photography

Photo credit: APJ Photography
A whaikōrero, or speech from Ray DeThorne, Chief Marketing Officer of The Field Museum

Photo credit: APJ Photography
The OPRF choir responds with a waiata, or song

Photo credit: APJ Photography
Joe Podlasek, LCO-Ojibwe/Polish, speaks his welcome words on behalf of the First People of the United States, and explains the importance of the Eagle staff he presents.

Photo credit: APJ Photography
The First People respond with drums and a beautiful jingle dancer.

Photo credit: APJ Photography
The drums and song

Photo credit: APJ Photography
Jingle dancing

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The Milford Track: Thriving on Dehydrated Food and Water from Waterfalls

December 17, 2014December 17, 2014 / MsStovall313 / 5 Comments

I start this blog post as I cruise down the Doubtful Sound on a beautiful sunny day. It is one day after I have finished the Milford Track, something I booked way back in July, and it’s hard to believe that I have completed it after many months of thinking/dreading/dreaming about it.

I was really nervous about my ability to complete it. Since I’ve been in New Zealand, my skin hugging skinny jeans now require a belt, yet I’m not in any better shape than pre-New Zealand. In fact, I’ve just lost most of my muscle weight from stopping the strength training I’d been doing in Chicago. The only workout I’ve really had is stuffing my cheeks with beautiful New Zealand pies. Just two weeks prior, I was unable to keep any food down after coming down with a horrible stomach flu. And this would also be my first real hike. Well, ever. And it was 33.5 miles that included an avalanche trail and an alpine trail. Things just weren’t looking too good for me.

It certainly was a physical feat–today I’ve been groaning each and every step I have to climb or descend, and my right ankle is purple and bulbous–but I have just seen and experienced something profoundly remarkable. Please note that the pictures and notes will in no way be able to do it justice.

Prior to the Milford Track:
I booked in July. The popular Great Walks of New Zealand sell out within a couple of hours of going on sale when they open on the New Zealand Department of Conservation website. Luckily, Amy, another Fulbrighter, was on to this fact and let the whole Fulbright New Zealand teaching crew that we had to book now!

I’ve never ever properly hiked, or tramped, as they say here. So, I had to rent all of the gear. Luckily, Bev’s Tramping Hire was there to the rescue. Bev got me outfitted with the right pack, sleeping bag, cooking ware, and clothing. I even got to try walking with a walking stick, which I’d later use as a cane to hobble around like an old woman when my legs got sore.

I packed a lot of food. Amy took one look at it and told me to put some of it away. “Too heavy,” she explained. She also looked at my freeze dried meals and said I wouldn’t like them. Luckily, if there is one thing I know about myself is that this girl can eat. And I mean, eat. As in, I ran out of all of this food on day three.

This is all the food I brought/ate.

Day 1
Objective: take a bus from our hotel in Te Anau to Te Anau Downs. Then, take a boat to Glade Wharf, start of the track. From the track, walk an easy 3 miles to the first hut, Clinton hut.

Highlights:

Heading to the start of the track with my borrowed back!

1) I successfully carried my first pack! It was a little heavy with all of the food that I brought (although Amy told me not to).

2) I walked over the second swing bridge of my life. It was quite scary, and I bobbled all over from side to side like a staggering zombie. I would eventually get better, which is good because I would cross about 17 more during the next three days.

3) The weather! I mean, this is a temperate rainforest and Fiordland is known for its rain. It rains 200 days out of the year and parts of the Milford Track floods. Just two and a half weeks ago it snowed here. Just under two weeks ago, it flooded so badly that the trampers had to be helicoptered out. And yet, for the next four days, it was to be sunny and beautiful, a rarity here. In fact, as I type this in on my cruise, it is day 6 of no rain. (Nine days here is considered a drought to put things in perspective).

Some people would say that this is bad because the “real” Milford happens when it rains, as there are hundreds and hundreds of waterfalls down the mountains (the mountains are granite, so there is nothing to soak up the water). But I’ll swap slippery slopes and being soaked to the bone for sunshine and seeing everything clearly anyday.

4) Next to our huts were several little glow worm caves. It was fun to wait until the sky started to raven to see the blue-green lights glowing along the trail path.

5) In an effort to stay hydrated, I drank a lot of water before bed. That meant that in the wee hours of the night, I had to sneak out of my hut in search of the toilet. When I got outside, I threw my hands up in stark fright. This gesture was so rigid I almost flung up my flashlight like confetti at a surprise party. It wasn’t because I had come face to face with an animal–the best thing about camping in New Zealand is that there isn’t anything deadly lurking in the woods–but because I was so shocked to see how blazing and bright the stars were.

I. have. never. seen. anything. like. it.

I could see everything: the galaxies, the Southern Cross, the twinkling planets: the stars seemed as close as the glow worms I had seen a few hours before. Spilled down the middle was the Milky Way. Never have I ever felt so happy to have nature call as on this night.

Picture of people playing cards and knitting

The first night as everyone starts to get to know each other.

6) It was really lovely to see the immediate community build up. From the first night, people shared food and stories. I became friends with a couple from Boston, Kendra and Neal, a couple from Poland, Gregory and Dorota, and a family of three: Robin, Michael, and their ten year old son Ethan. I met the Polish couple as we were searching for eels in the nearby stream. Look as we tried, we had no luck. Amy and I gave up, headed back to camp, and tried out the huge hula hoops (we had a lot of time to kill).

Soon, Gregory came running up the path, exclaiming that he had found eels. However, by the time we ran back down the trail, they were already gone. But the sweetness of the couple’s gesture stayed with me for the rest of the journey. Later that night, we would all play cards until we couldn’t see anymore.

Low points:

1) Because the hike was so short, there really wasn’t anything to do when we got back. I couldn’t sit outside and enjoy the late afternoon sun because I was too delicious of a snack for sandflies. Sandflies are very similar to mosquitoes in that they suck your blood; however, unlike mosquitoes, if you kill one, it will send out a toxin that will send more its way (unless that is a total myth told to me by my Doubtful Sound tour guide just now). So we were pretty limited on what we could do.

2) In this first hut, there are two bunkrooms. We got into a room with the door slammers. Meaning, it seemed as if every person leaving the hut, no matter what time of night, had gotten into a serious argument with their mom and dad. I jolted awake too many times from these door slamming nincompoops, and I made a mental note to avoid them at all costs at the next hut.

Pictures from Day 1:

Amy and I at the start of the track!

The boat that would take us to the beginning of the trek.

The view from the boat

The first section of the walk was all New Zealand beech trees.

The walk is just magical. I knew I was in for a treat.

I had to take a picture of the fern, the New Zealand symbol for new beginnings and personal growth. Perfect for me.

My second ever swing bridge (I would go over many, many more!)

These are the streams we drank our water out of!

Taking a break to enjoy the scenery.

A picture of the hut!

Video clip from day one:

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Teachers as Changemakers: The Sunshine of my Fulbright Research Project

November 25, 2014March 20, 2015 / MsStovall313 / 4 Comments

The flyer for our presentation today.

Disclaimer: this is a personal website. All views and information presented herein are my own and do not represent the views of the Fulbright Program or the U.S. Department of State.

Today, I get ready for my first presentation about my Fulbright project. I’ll present with Amy and Tricia at Victoria University of Wellington at 3:30. As I prepare my notes and my smiles, I can’t help but have my thoughts tugged by the news of Michael Brown’s non-indictment yesterday. As my mentor Rob posted on his Facebook wall, “It ain’t right Atticus, it just ain’t right,” from Harper Lee’s famous novel. It isn’t right that Michael Brown was not even given the dignity of a trial, that we keep hearing language and belief systems that are symptoms of the sick cycle of oppression in the U.S.

But today, I am glad more than ever to be an educator. I have the great privilege and responsibility to give hope, to make change, and to interrupt racist systems. I am proud to be an educator, and I am proud to work with the young people who will be the change of the future. And it just so happens that my project addresses implicit racism in education, as the focus is on eradicating the achievement gap/educational debt between students of color and white students. This blog, therefore, will break down the components of my project, as well as what my daily life looks like.

The title of my project: Teachers as Changemakers: The Power of Reflection in Diminishing the Racial Predictability of Student Academic Achievement

The purpose of my project: to find ways to eliminate the racial predictability of student academic achievement.

My passion is to teach for justice. Students of color have been disenfranchised at my high school in the US, resulting in an achievement gap in which 61% of white students meet college readiness standards, while only 14% of Black students do. My goal is to find ways to diminish the racial predictability that currently exists in test scores, discipline data, G.P.As, and college graduation rates.

Some of my amazing students on a surprise donut day.

I can no longer tolerate a culture that perpetuates the status quo, that teaches Black students that being academic is a “white” thing. I have some amazing colleagues who are doing amazing things in their classrooms. I have a division head who gets it. I have been totally blessed to have Chala, the assistant principal, visit, teach, and mentor in my classroom 2-3 times a week for the last three years, giving me feedback, ideas, and inspirations. Teachers are ready to make change. And teachers can make change. I know this because they already do in so many ways that often go unnoticed.

So, I’m no longer interested in deficit thinking. In the media, we teachers constantly get blamed for the lack of student academic progress. We are seen as lazy and greedy. We know there are profound gaps in student academic achievement and socioemotional needs. But I believe that’s the easy way to think. It’s easy to blame, it’s easy to hang the ugly picture out on your washing line for all to see. It’s easy to reaffirm pre-existing beliefs and expectations about our students of color.

But you know what’s not easy to do? Turn around and face the problem.

It’s not easy to work together to find solutions. To look at all of the positive things that are happening and share those ideas like we do Thanksgiving recipes. Sure, there is no recipe that will fit all palates and some ingredients will need to be modified to fit the individual, but there are certain key ingredients–love, hope, high expectations, strong student-teacher relationships–that all recipes need to work. But how do we knead, nurture, and allow these concepts to grow in such a current harsh climate for teachers?

Well, that’s my project.

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Thanksgiving on Cuba Street

October 30, 2014October 30, 2014 / MsStovall313 / 2 Comments

A Gratitude Journal

My carpool picks me up at 7:10 a.m. each morning at the top of Cuba Street. If I can convince myself to crawl out of my warm bed and into the frigid air of my apartment before six a.m., I can make the 6:30 a.m. bus that will take me to the bottom of Cuba Street, and then it’s just a quick 10-minute jaunt to the top. If I wake up after 6 a.m., I will miss the bus, and then I must run/jog/shuffle/skip the two miles to my meeting point. (School starts at 9 a.m. here, but I have a hike to get to my placement).

Even though I get exercise if I don’t catch the bus, I love making it because I get to stop for coffee. Now 98% of coffee shops open after 7 a.m., which means I’m mostly out of luck because there is a coffee shop desert around my carpool pick up point. However, Roberto at Palomino coffee on Cuba Street opens up just a little bit early so that I can get my coffee and still make it to my pick up point on time. He’s pretty much the greatest man alive, and I look forward to stopping there on the mornings that I can.

My day is so much better because I got a free cookie. Thanks Roberto!

Today, I missed the bus by 47 seconds. I had a loooong day yesterday that didn’t get me home until 10:45 p.m., and I knew I would be just as late tonight. Even though it was 7:08 and I was huffing and sweating, I still decided to stop in to get a cup of coffee from Roberto. He inquired after my tardiness, and I gave him a brief synopsis of my past and future 24 hours, stressing that I really needed a cup of his coffee. As he handed me my dreamboat-in-a-cup Flat White, he added a decadent chocolate cookie to the top of my coffee cup before handing it to me. “For you,” he said in his Cuban accent, “to help with your day.”

It’s a few hours later, and I feel like I wish I could unplug after my iPad got completely wiped, and I lost– thankfully not all–of my research over the last month (I know, cue lecture about backing up files). As I was about to sob into the D, O, and H keys on my keyboard, I noticed the cookie sticking out of my backpack. It made me stop and remember that even though this is a tough loss, I am able to reflect, rethink, and rewrite. Roberto’s gesture was a reminder to me that there is heartbreakingly beautiful kindness in the world. And for that I am grateful.

Someone at school put my name in the gratitude/commandments drawing, and I won! Thank you random stranger, now I get to draw an awesome prize on Monday!

***

It is super cool being “from the future,” as I am 18 hours ahead of Chicago, but it makes communication difficult. There is a small window of time right before I go to bed or right when I wake up that I can catch people in the States to talk to them. I can’t talk during my day because I have to have wifi to Skype or Facetime, and I don’t get home from school in time to talk to people before they tuck in for the night. So during the weekdays, I feel pretty isolated from my friends and family in the U.S., and I suck every last bit of comfort from the imessages and Whatsapp texts I get during the day. It’s weird to think that most of my communication with home is through short conversations sprinkled throughout my cupcakes of days.

You can imagine, therefore, how meaningful mail has been to me. I haven’t given out my mailing address to anyone but my parents, and they sent me a wonderful welcome care package the first week I arrived. I realized quickly that one has to sell one’s car just to be able to pay to ship a package in New Zealand, so I didn’t send on my mailing address to anyone else.

The AMAZING package from Joy.

But somehow, mail has found a way. Our close (and oldest) family friends Kate and Michael sent me a lovely card. And the biggest hug to a soul is that my lovely friend and fellow book club member Joy sent THE most incredible care package ever. I had written a blog post about how miserably cold I’d been in Wellington, and she secretly Facebook messaged my mom asking for my address. She sent me a giant package that has kept me literally and figuratively warm for two weeks now: a blanket, gloves, hand warmers, Nutella, fancy chocolate, and stuff for Halloween and Thanksgiving–the two holidays I will miss while I’m here. I would win a Pulitzer if I was able to able to adequately express how grateful I feel. I guess it makes sense that Joy would bring me so much joy. (PS: Joy, check your mailbox in 6-8 days!)

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Midnight Walks and Golden Pins: Fulbright Orientation in D.C.

August 19, 2014March 20, 2015 / MsStovall313 / Leave a comment

I had just arrived in D.C.!

Disclaimer: this is a personal website. All views and information presented herein are my own and do not represent the views of the Fulbright Program or the U.S. Department of State.

The Fulbright orientation was pretty dang career affirming. Forty-three teachers flew, drove, and trained in from all over the U.S., and 11 international teachers arrived from India, Singapore, Morocco, Finland, and New Zealand.

When we landed, it was pouring rain. I was kinda excited because I would get to try out my fancy new Patagonia raincoat I had bought on Ebay for a quarter of the retail price. I lasted about seven and a half minutes before my entire bottom half was soaked and stuck to the insides of my thighs. Yuck. But, I will say, my top half was pretty dry when I later peeled off the shell in the auditorium of the national capitol building. So I will count this as a success!

Drying off at the State Capitol building. Hello there Lincoln!

The highlights of the orientation:

The people: By golly, these are just amazing people. If you interact with me daily, you know I can be goofy and outgoing. My dad describes me as “expressive” (I’m not sure if this is a compliment or not). But I found myself at orientation fairly quiet because I was a bit overwhelmed by the energy and talent of these amazing leaders in education. I also kept questioning myself: “Is this really happening? Do I really deserve this award? Did they make a mistake in choosing me?” as I shook hands and talked over coffee and sticky notes. These are people I hope I can use as allies, contacts, and friends for the rest of my life. In general, Holly and Becky, who worked for IEE (and were also responsible for choosing us on behalf of the Department of State) were wonderful. If it would have been appropriate, I would have been constantly hugging ’em.

Here are the amazing teachers that will go to New Zealand this year!

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Ms. Stovall 313

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