Winter months in New England have the potential to feel draining. The days feel shorter, the cold temperatures keep us cooped up inside, and frankly, we can start to feel tired. Whenever I begin to feel that winter gloom, I return to a practice I learned in a workshop called “Healing the Mother Wound.” An organization called Latinx Parenting facilitated this workshop, and it focused on the ways that adults can heal stressors rooted in their inner child.However, instead of focusing on my inner child, I focus on my inner new teacher. This reflective exercise requires an image. I like to pull up photos from my early years of teaching. Recently, I chose a photo from my first year as a Spanish teacher on the first day of school in 2013 (at left).
I started this exercise with a little laugh, wondering what I was thinking with that hair. But then I quickly zeroed in on my ear-to-ear smile and how bright my eyes looked. As I examined the picture, I could feel the excitement and nervousness I felt when I took the picture. I was about to start my new job as a teacher at an independent school after a year as an associate instructor and long-term English Language Arts substitute at a magnet school. I wanted to “be the change I wanted to see in the world.” I remember wanting to get it right. I wanted to do everything and be everything to everyone. I was also so scared to get it wrong.
The next step of the exercise is to go back in time and speak to my younger self. Knowing what I know now, what advice would I have shared? From my perspective as a senior administrator, how does this exercise allow me to reflect on my journey, reconnect with my purpose, and inspire the good work that’s still to come? Here’s what I journaled as part of this exercise.
- Imposter syndrome is real, and you have it. Luckily (and unfortunately), you are not the only one. I grew up undocumented in a society that constantly debated whether people like me should be allowed to be here. No wonder sometimes I didn’t feel a sense of belonging. But everyone deserves to feel that they belong.
I would have told myself that I was going to accomplish great things that would require courage and the use of my voice. I’d eventually find myself at an all-girls school where I’d dedicate time and resources to support students who would fight through their own imposter syndrome on the way to achieving their goals. And that’s just a part of what I’d do. I would have told myself that my trauma wouldn’t define me; I’d heal so much that I’d begin to engender change. The feeling of not belonging or fitting in would never go away, I’d admit, but I’d soon surround myself with fierce women who would grow me through radical love and grace.
- Trust your gut! I’d remind myself that I’m intuitive, and my instincts have always led me to the answers and my people. I would learn how my body feels stress, growth, and happiness. Listen to it! And while my gut is frequently correct, that doesn’t mean I should make impulsive decisions. Take the time to gather more information before acting, I’d tell my younger self. Use the information as a tool for effective decision-making rather than to prove your value to others. Bodies are powerful, so care for yours as you’d care for something precious. Give it rest when necessary, and nourish it in all the ways that bring you peace and joy.
- Keep learning. Your personal and professional life will present you with many opportunities (some of which will feel disastrous at first), but I promise they will all be learning opportunities. Embrace challenges and listen to what your body tells you. Your educational philosophy will continue to evolve just as the world does. You will learn to hold complexities, exercise patience, and continue to love as you work with young people and fellow educators. You love learning, I’d remind myself. Learning is what sustains you. Individuals can inspire others when they engage in their own curiosity and wonder.
Looking back on my journey, I can confidently say that I wouldn’t have changed any of it, even during the most challenging times. I’ve been able to learn who I am as a teacher and who I want to be. Teachers are some of the most caring and critical figures in a student’s life. As educators, we are constantly aware of our influence, and we, like parents, only want what is best for each young person. And because of this, we work hard to get it right. But sometimes, we don’t. When we know or think we’ve fallen short, we can be tough on ourselves. Some of us will overwork ourselves, striving for perfection, doing what it takes to avoid “failing” because we don’t want to let our students or school communities down. We do this despite teaching students that it’s OK to get it wrong sometimes.
But as those caring and critical adult figures, we need to model authenticity, balance, and self-love. Teachers, allow yourselves some grace. This career has always been demanding, but these past few years have added additional stressors. If you’re feeling down, take an old photo from when you first started teaching and talk to that new teacher. What can you tell her? What do you want her to know? Describe the impact she will have on her students and her school community. Tell her she’s enough, and remind her that her work matters.
Let’s be kind to ourselves, especially during these winter months, and lean into our teaching network for community.
Need a boost this season? Try this exercise! Get out your first-year teacher picture, and write 100 words to your inner new teacher. Share it with us at [email protected] for a chance to be featured in a future NAIS publication.
