As wary and aged as 4 months of “Teacher” and “Miss” could make a first year teacher, I am still here and well. One thing I’ve already learned is that there isn’t time for much else except the grind and wind of drill, drill, drill. Starting from the beginning with some is hard, but pushing the rest to be as good, nay better, than Highland Park – Dallas’ premiere academic heavy weights, wheedles at my core-nerd to mold confidence and precision.

One definition of teacher, I have found, is determination. “I will not stop at OK.” “You will not be satisfied with a C.” “You literally cannot afford to be mediocre,” I repeat to my kids in slighter words than those. A school of refugees from countries like Nepal and Iraq and Bilingual, Spanish-speakers, children of immigrant workers, most of my students have experienced more hardships than an entire lifetime’s worth. Who are they really and how will I continue to impress the values of education on a generation that’s already seen it all?

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