Her words came flying at me like tattoos darting their permanence into my mind. “You speak English really well,” my mentor teacher proudly declared, after having heard me read a chapter of Old Yeller to her fourth grade class. Stop, wait, and listen is all I could do in that unexpected moment. Sometimes, words force you to stop and think. As my thinking process began, I noticed my mouth. My mouth began to drop slightly open, just enough for me to notice. My body and it's casual motion came to a gradual stop, as I tried to figure out what didn’t sound quite right. I gazed for a moment. It’s what I often do, I’m told, when in deep reflective thought.
I slowly took a breath and looked away, fearing that my thoughts would be heard aloud. Did I really hear her say those words? Why would she say such a thing? Was it the color of my skin? The color of my hair? Should I have felt accomplished for my abilities in English? Would she feel accomplished for hers? Stunned a little, I wondered what or when or how it came to be necessary to speak aloud those words. Would it have been better to hear her declare that I speak two languages… well? Or, maybe even that I work a read aloud like a pro? Did it all really matter? It must have mattered, because I felt it. I swallowed gently on purpose, and I gathered myself to respond. “Oh… umm, okay,” the words finally spilled from my lips and I smiled. I smile because there was no ill intent. There was no ill intent, but I wasn’t finished thinking. I wasn’t really finished thinking through the comment, that compliment. Fifteen years have passed. I’m not quite finished thinking through that compliment. Not completely.
8 Comments
Marina Rodriguez
3/9/2020 09:59:57 pm
Thanks, Tamara.
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I love that this story lingers. That you describe the moment so carefully, the way it etched itself in your memory. That you don't make decisions or judgments, that the thought stays open for you to stay curious about, and that you provoke our thoughts about it, too. I especially admire the craft in your title, as it allowed me to enter into your space with positive presupposition, not necessarily the way you did to start, but the way you landed those fifteen years ago.
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Marina Rodriguez
3/9/2020 10:16:03 pm
That moment is definitely etched in my memory. I wonder how long it will sit there.
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3/2/2020 07:20:25 pm
I think one of my biggest fears is that I say something with no ill intent, but that my comment has these consequences for the person to whom I spoke. Some teachers in my school read Culturally Responsive Teaching and the Brain earlier this year. Our discussions left a lot to be desired and felt very superficial. I was hoping for more. I was hoping to really think through some of my own implicit bias with others and that wasn't what happened. I feel I still have a lot of work to do in this area. Thank you for sharing the depth of the impact a statement can make. I'll be thinking (and working on myself), too.
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Marina Rodriguez
3/9/2020 10:37:49 pm
You have given me much to think about. It's amazing to know the amount of work and thinking you do and have done to be culturally responsive to your students.
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3/2/2020 07:33:15 pm
Oh how words land on us, in some cases, as in yours, for years. Why is it that some people can let words float by like clouds, while others need to nurse them like newborn kittens? You noticed that something was there inside you that was triggered. Something. I hope you will keep writing this one out - not necessarily following the thread, but pulling on it to see what is there. Love this post, Marina.
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Marina Rodriguez
3/9/2020 10:42:14 pm
Thank you, Shari. I may have to try to keep writing this one out.
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