Becoming a Voices of Change fellow empowered me to believe I could be a teacher with all my flaws — that “perfection” is not necessary. In fact, it is antithetical to good teaching. I remember sitting in our first workshop where we learned how to write a pitch and discussed what successful pitching looks like.
My takeaway from that workshop was that this fellowship was going to push me in ways I’d always been afraid of, that I’d have to practice a kind of vulnerability that went deeper than what I modeled for my students. I’d have to face myself.
The fellowship taught me that what makes me unique is what makes me the best teacher I can be. My individual voice and reflections were what I had to offer, and not just the restatement of well-researched best practices. During my fellowship, I learned that the more vulnerable and specific I was in telling my story as a classroom teacher, the more my voice as a writer would shine through. This sense of authenticity translated into my teaching, as I felt empowered to be myself and to see my differences as gifts.
My essay describing the time when two birds flew into my classroom taught me that play is education, and to this day, I can breathe when things go awry because, through writing that essay, I reaffirmed to myself that it’s okay for curriculum to slow down, for community building to be at the center.
My essay exploring the power of neurodivergence led me to connect with other neurodivergent teachers and reminded me that my experiences are what make me the best teacher I can be. I used to be sad that my brain was built differently, but both the process and the outcome of that essay taught me that being different is a gift to share with others. I was most afraid to write that essay, but now I am most proud of it. I was once again reminded of the power in speaking my truth, especially when I’m most afraid to.
Overall, my essays taught me to pay attention to every moment of teaching, that sometimes the most mundane days of instruction offer kernels of truth and exploration. Topics such as boredom, artificial intelligence and allyship have been explored ad nauseam, but my editor empowered me to see that despite this, I still have a voice worth sharing, even when I didn’t think so.
As a result, I developed a confidence in myself that I carry with me to this day. I became more embodied as a human being, more present, because I realized that what made me me was actually what would allow me to connect more meaningfully with my students and the world. In extending that expansiveness and empathy towards myself, I had more empathy to give my students on their off days and more encouragement to give them on their better days. Ultimately, realizing that the most important stories I had to tell were topics I was too afraid to address publicly made me see that the core of education will always be about courage. Courage to be all of myself, to try new activities outside of and inside the classroom. I had to be ready to share myself to have the biggest impact as a writer. Similarly, I would have to do the same to be the best teacher I could be.
Since completing this fellowship, my identity as a human being has expanded. I now see myself not just as a teacher, but as a writer, a thinker, and an observer who has something to say. I feel more comfortable being me, and even empowered to do so. With each essay, I chipped away at my fears and accepted that the joy was in the process itself. Now, I tell my students something I have had to tell myself repeatedly during this fellowship: trust your voice.
