On stress

“Where do you feel it?” 

I’m in therapy now, because that’s what you do when you lose a sense of control. It’s where you go when it hurts, but it hurts anyway. Adulthood will always surprise you. 

At therapy, the therapist asks me this every time – “Tell me where the stress is” – and so I tell him it’s in my chest, to be a good student. He’s expecting me to simply express the ache, like what the tickle feels like when a lady bug’s legs meander their way up the back of my ankle and delight a pleasant afternoon picnic, or how cold and wet it might feel when a big raindrop plops onto my cheekbone and I intuitively blink and look up, as if the rain were to come from anywhere else. But it’s not tangible like that. 

If it is, I’m lying about my chest anyway. It belongs there sometimes, if our hearts could truly harden enough to crumble and feel like we swallowed a boulder that’s now lodged in our ribs, but it’s more a fiery, sludgy, cement-like lava slowly slogging through every vein, and I’m lying horizontally enough for the pain to more like float and stagnate and make me heavy rather than flow as a river from my neck to my toes. It’s a numbness, too, as the weight succumbs, that begins in my forearms – causing my wrists to limp and my fingers to twitch – and continues as a cycling of fevered panic that energizes itself as it taps every bone, yanks and snaps on every end of every muscle and then somehow manages to manifest a needle and sew my skin to whatever floor I couldn’t seem to get myself up from in time. I could lay on that cold bathroom tile or warm laundry room rug or dirty garage floor concrete, making love to my suffering, till hunger or exhaustion interfered, and even then, I’d stay sewn and bare, his simple “location of stress” enjoying a meal instead.

One time, I sunk so depressingly into the bed on an otherwise sunny Friday afternoon, not being responsible or productive or pretending for anyone for once, and I imagined the wood planks that make up my roof falling down onto me and piercing me one by one, cutting through the exhausted chest cavity holding all the stress, denting into my one face, nailing me to the couch arm by arm, leg by leg, until the entire house and all the love we built fell messy into my lap, at last making tangible the pain I try to decipher now, with my therapist every Thursday at 9 a.m. There, now you see me bleeding here, here, and here. Don’t ask me where it lives, there is now red on both our fingertips.

But that didn’t actually happen, and whatever he’s asking me to seek and mitigate is nowhere to be found or described or molded for him to diagnose. It’s lurking eagerly beyond the both of us – nowhere near this ever familiar office painted in gray, just like every other healer’s office painted in the same gray that is the antithesis of help or healing. It’s thriving instead, invisible and untouchable, in all my tomorrows and in all my intangible thoughts still mustering, and it’s playing a winning game of catch-me-if-you-can.

“Yes, I think it’s my chest,” I say matter of factly once more.

And we spend the next 50 minutes imagining together what it’s like to lift that stress ball out of my chest and ask it to leave while I simultaneously, secretly, tighten the thread to the floor. Name it what suits you, but lurking monsters can live for days, and I am always the gracious host. 

I left my first husband on a Friday, and that was the easy part. We even had lunch together and talked about the weather after we signed away a union that lasted for a little while. 

But, oh, the pangs lingered. Not because my weakness robbed me of the broom to shoo it out, but because I was too lazy to shoo in the first place. Why am I so beholden to this attention? I lugged it around until it got ahold of me, and now I’m strapped to the couch (his in therapy and mine in my house caving in.) 

Stress aches with its weight – a burden we cannot alone lift – yet it is almost always silent. Even if we do muster the energy or the courage to talk about it – to family or friends or, most often, the most distant person in your life so as to avoid judgment – it laughably isn’t even close to breaking the ice. This was my hidden talent. 

“Everything is great! Fine, the kids are lovely, how are you?” Divert attention, be impeccable. Stress can only feast in private. 

And so we find the most private environment other than the closed walls of our bathroom to break down alone, and we end up in therapy that is way too expensive, way too much gas money to get to once or twice a week, and, for me, I do my best to make conversation about him instead. 

I knew his dog wasn’t well and the renovations to his backyard and which plants he preferred in his office, both at home and at work. (Different plants for different environments, I learned.) 

I deflected enough that he was none the wiser and I was none the better. Maybe even worse? A weekly therapist visit in which we spent a good seven minutes of our fifty together having small talk was never going to cut it. 

“How do you feel now?” he closes after another session wastes away. 

“Better. Truly. Thank you, I’ll see you next week.”

Help the child extend appreciation for life around him

Like many children, my son is drawn to the water. He runs in for a cannonball, using all the breath within him to squeal as he leaps off the edge of the pool with delight. There is no other care in his world in that moment, other than to feel the water, again and again. Like all children, he feels everything.

This dissipates with age. Why do I not jump in for a cannonball just the same? Even if I jump in alongside him, I’m taking many thoughts and doubts and prejudices along with me — no wonder a child can reach the top of the water with such buoyancy. There is no other weight they carry.

We can learn so much from the child, but this isn’t a matter of attempting to lessen our own constitution or to worry less. It’s about helping to elongate the genuine connection a child feels with his own life and the invigorating environment around him.

When we step away from a learning opportunity and allow the child to cut his own bread in two, to tie his own shoe or to make it to the edge of the pool with his own bravery and our smile in sight, the child is awarded an appreciation that we no longer feel. And, that kind of appreciation only extends the enchantment of every encounter life brings — every splash, every shadow, every flower that’s bigger than it was the day before. The child sees things so reverently — including us — why would we ever want to disrupt that view?

The water is such a big learning space. There’s power and a lack of mercy and so much allure at play. Even as an adult, we can be drawn to the water simply for its juxtaposition of tranquility and ferocity. Children feel this, too, but rather than fear the unknown, they crave the sensation of it. When I watch my son spin his little body like a fish or watch an infant splash wildly with gladness, I don’t see any reservation or hesitation, I only see gratitude. They see any body of water as something that is indeed bigger than themselves, but if we allow them the space to do so, they arrive to the edge with a spirit that matches the power of the water, and they deserve to feel and live in that purity for as long as they can. How can we help them in that?

Before we got out of the water, my son swam toward me on his back, his chin meeting the sky with a confidence that would have kept him afloat for hours, and when he got to me, I said to him, “I didn’t know you knew how to backstroke!” He replied with sparkles in his eyes, “I learned! I learned!”

May he greet the day like this for years to come.

Story originally published for Guidepost Montessori at Higher Ground.

Disney takeaways: Claustrophobia, nostalgia, and ice cream bars

In October of 2023, my family and I enjoyed our first trip to Walt Disney World in Orlando, Fl.

One does not come lightly to this decision. Perhaps, you could purchase a park ticket and show up, and the spectacle alone is enough to satisfy you. But, if you want to maximize this (potentially) once in a lifetime experience at the happiest place on earth, you’ve got your work cut out for you.

I actually memorized the maps of all four parks. Isn’t that embarassing to admit?

Tips & Takeaways:

1. I did (A LOT OF) research, and I never came across the alert of how enclosed the majority of rides would be. I was not prepared to meet my claustrophobia on this trip! Despite how happy and cheerful the rides were (or scary, depending), experiences are in deep, dark, narrow caves. Although there are bright lights as you see the impressive beauty and work that went into the experience, there are a lot of dark tunnels, with no discernment of direction or how you’d ever get out if you needed to, and this was very difficult for me. (Boys? Absolutely fine. Nothing phases them, not even the 65mph rides in Tomorrowland. How though?)

2. Speaking of anxiety, remember to pack the Xanax and Tylenol from the sheer stimulation of it all. It’s a lot!

3. I couldn’t imagine not having Genie+ / Lightning Lanes. This ensures you skip the lines for rides. Even though it is an extra $10-$25 cost per person per day, it’s a necessary add-on for me considering I didn’t want to spend as much money as we already did getting into the parks just to stand around the parks and wait while hot and impatient. We spent more to experience more in a day. You spend less to experience less in a day.

4. We packed our own refillable Hydro Flasks to avoid $12 bottles of water every hour, only to carry around heavy flasks with no forecasted refill stations in sight. What the heck?

5. key ice cream bars and Disney balloons were unnecessary but so nostalgic. I had a damn ice cream bar every day.

6. Epcot as a nice down day, and I was not prepared for that. There are fewer rides than Magic Kingdom but an enjoyable, casual stroll through so many different cultures with great food and drinks. We loved the crepes and champagne in France, the gelato in Italy, the performers and steamed buns in Japan, the Mariachi in Mexico, and Paddington in the UK. What a thoughtful and well designed park experience! Also an incredible aquarium at the end of the Nemo ride.

7. Characters do not simply walk around the parks, and this was a misconception for me. We did stand in line for Mickey and otherwise the parade in Magic Kingdom was a glorious 30 minutes waving to every single character there. I get emotional just thinking about this. When it’s all going well, no one is an adult here. We are all the giddy children. I swear I caught my husband skipping.

8. The employees through the entire Disney experience are impeccable. Can you imagine if we all showed up to work like that? Each of them are high energy and delightful. Everyone is waving, genuinely smiling, and happy to see you. I feel like I would tire of listening to Disney songs all day every day, but instead you see employees tapping to the omnipresent music even when no one is watching. A man was cleaning up kid vomit and singing along to “Tale as Old as Time.”

9. The characters are (expectedly) just the same. I appreciate their talents and efforts so much! There would be a (FED UP) mother trying to drag her two-year-old screaming daughter in an over-stuffed stroller across the infamous castle with the inevitable Cinderella or Olaf blowing her a kiss nearby. Ignore the tantrums! This is the happiest place on earth.

10. I wore Teva sandals the entire trip. We walked nearly 30 miles over four park days and never felt any pain. Kind of impressed!

11. Ross (age 6) wanted all the damn trinkets and toys. Purchasing a Disney gift card for the kids allows them to buy whatever the heck they want, so long as they knew whenever the gift card emptied, so too did their bags with toys they’ll never use again anyway. (This was a tip I received and wished I could have implemented. Instead, I bought 700 toys that are now piling up in his bedroom.)

12. Fanny packs for everyone was necessary for us. The boys ended up carrying around their Magic Bands (an alarming tracking wearable but seamless, useful tool at the parks) that kept falling off (we still lost two), their sunglasses and snacks, and Air Tags for our peace of mind. For me, I also had the easiest access to my beloved map and damn phone, which I had out constantly to check into rides, order Lightning Lanes, and mind the ride order of the day. It’s overwhelming, but it also helped our whole family have a seamless experience (I still managed to look up and well up over it all. It is enrapturing everywhere you look.)

13. Lastly, I never felt more like a MOM than I did on this trip. With the fanny pack and the schedule and the sunscreen and the coordinating and the sensible outfits, I felt old for like the first time ever, and I simply do not plan on getting old. You just kind of always think you’re going to be the cool mom, right? And this week, I was very uncool. But so happy. We are so lucky to have had such a special family experience!

14. (And nah, I don’t think we will go back anytime soon. Beach next time is so in order.)

Our kids are human, too: 5 ways to treat them like an equal

Before traveling for work recently, my 5-year-old son and I had an intimate conversation about my time away. I explained to him slowly how long I’d be gone, where I’d be and when I’d return before he interrupted me with a simple, “I know all of this already, Mama. I also know you’ll be gone three sleeps longer than normal, which is a long time.”

He tilted his head back as if to take it all in, and stayed there for a while before reassuring me with his big little hand on my shoulder, “I will think about you, and you will think about me. It will be okay.”

Amid the fast pace of parenthood, it’s easy to forget that my child is not less than me. Our children are capable of so much. But, we don’t always see it. Sometimes, we only see our efforts to raise them instead. We see the exhaustion of managing, scheduling and maintaining the day-to-day that we miss their competency. We think they are able because of us, when, in so many ways, our strength comes from them.

Beginning at conception and continuing through birth and growth, their courage and exhibition of self is always a delightful surprise. The simple ways in which children communicate joy, the honesty in their voice and the vulnerability in their questions leave us with a newfound love for who they are becoming, right before our sleepy eyes.

Instead of superiority, our children need to feel that we trust them, that we believe in them, and that we see them as equals. Child-rearing is a partnership between parent and child and we should realize the beautiful human being who not only wants to be just like us but is already like us, too: Learning and living and growing, every single day.

How can you treat children more like an equal?

Here are five ways, mama:

1. Treat your child as you would like to be treated.

What makes a relationship meaningful to you? When you’re overwhelmed, overtired or in need of support, what or whom do you seek? When you’re feeling celebratory, whom do you choose to participate in the joy with you?

Children need companionship the same way we do, but we tend to blame their need on adolescence as if they need our care and direction, not a supportive friend.

In times of learning, we also talk at the child, exasperated in what surely has been told one hundred times, but does it help you when someone talks down to you? What words will resonate with you instead?

The way in which we engage in loving, respectful relationships with an adult friend is possible with a child. They feel everything from us, sometimes before our dulled senses feel them ourselves, and when you show the child how much they mean to you the way you would do for a friend, they feel that, too.

2. Include your child in your plans.

When making decisions about your day, big or small, ask your child for their input. Thinking about dinner or planning meals for the week? Ask your child what they’d enjoy. Can’t decide what to wear, which book to read or where to go for lunch? Watch as your child revels in the inclusion of your choice.

Also ask your child for help in daily endeavors, like cleaning the house or yard work, and be mindful of asking for his participation in activities that might be above what you think is his level of ability. Help your child to believe in himself!

3. Offer choices to show an interest in their opinions.

Along with asking for their opinion, afford your child the space to make decisions on their own, ensuring that you’re supportive in whatever those decisions may be.

Sometimes, when we tell children what to do, they begin to relinquish their own power of choice, not even realizing it as an option. Instead, remind your child that we all have choices in our lives, and how we choose to respond to those choices is what strengthens us.

Give options. Instead of saying, “Do you want to go to the park today?” Ask, “Do you want to go to the park today or to the library?” Near bedtime, ask the child, “Do you want to take a bath first or put away your laundry?” At dinner, “Do you want to help me rinse the dishes or put away the dishes?”

Yes or no questions imply hierarchy, whereas choices signify an interest in the other’s opinion.

4. Think less like a superior.

If we treat children as if they know less than us, our minds will always approach and speak to them as if they know less than us. We will subconsciously speak above them, not even hearing ourselves the condescending tone in our voice. Instead, empathize with a child’s perspective.

When I speak with my son, I am aware of the intuition and honesty he bears that is purer than me. He sees things differently than I do and with less of a filter than I have, so who am I to speak above him or tell him how it is? His perspective enlightens me, and I wonder how to learn from him every single day.

And, to think less like a superior is not to act less like a superior. We are responsible to our children and must always be acting with their well-being in mind. Our actions show that we care for them and love them deeply. May our thoughts show that we revere them in that responsibility, too.

5. Pay attention.

Be less mindful of what we think children need and more mindful of what they are showing us they need.

Ask your child more questions and make eye contact. Come to their level, and once you’ve finished asking questions, ask if there is anything else they would like to say.

Children do always surprise us, with their willingness, tenacity, concentration and awe for the world around them. Our children want to participate in all of it, and perhaps if we gave them the autonomy and equity to do so, they would show us that they can do it, too. This is their big world, too.

As published in Motherly.

Professor uses video to advocate for female scientists

A couple years ago, a college student in Nebraska named Erin took to Flipgrid to talk about Alaskan brown bears. 

In a breezy 90 seconds, she broke down how climate change is affecting the food webs that bears eat. They used to eat fish in July and August, “because that’s when there are the most fish in the river,” Erin tells us, and then they’d eat berries come September, when the berries would start to grow. 

But because temperatures in Alaska are slowly getting warmer, bears are now eating the berries first, in July and August, which means there are too many salmon fish in the river, eating more food and making it harder for other fish to survive, she concludes.

And tenth graders in Germany are still talking about her video. 

Erin was taking a class on climate change with Ramesh Laungani, a biology professor at Doane University in Lincoln. To help his students better understand the content, he asked them to explain in a Flipgrid video scientific research papers – not for themselves, but for K-12 students around the world.

“If you can explain a concept to a seventh grader, you understand it, right?” says Ramesh, who also teaches classes in conservation biology and has training in plant ecology. “So a few years ago, I just put the call out on Twitter, saying, ‘I’m going to have my college students make these videos.’ 

The first year, he connected with a local school in Nebraska as well as another in Florida. But, the following year, he was making connections with K-12 schools all over the country and even worldwide, including a military base in Germany who was tickled to have exposure to American scientists. 

“The fact that these students are learning new science and learning about things they didn’t know existed, that’s the game,” Ramesh says. “Even if they go home and sit at the dinner table to say, ‘Hey, Mom, I learned about these bears and climate change,’ that now expands the reach of my students’ voices into dining rooms and living rooms of those families. Me being a scientist, I wish there was a way to quantify it, of course, but I can say for sure that’s transformative for me.” 

Ramesh is an impassioned scientist. If you’d like, he’d walk you around his campus to quantify the standing carbon stocks in the trees and soil – he’d give you hours and days and not miss a beat – but he also just wants you to enjoy whatever it is you’re interested in, and he wants his students to know that anything is possible. 

Ramesh has spent years beautifully humanizing the fascination of science, and his endeavor to create videos for K-12 students not only helps the college kids better grasp the textbook, it also helps them more easily talk about science in a way that is comprehensible, enjoyable and engaging. With his encouragement, they cut the jargon, explain it simply and are left empowered to learn more.

“Scientists oftentimes are characterized as bad communicators,” Ramesh says. “I’ve seen those who are unaware of the audience they’re trying to connect with, and that puts up all these barriers for the audience to access the science. 

“When I give my students that communication training, I’m able to evaluate a deeper level of their understanding. I can identify misconceptions easily because you can hear hesitations in their voices when they explain a topic, and you can’t identify that hesitation in a written response, right?”

Alongside tackling the ways in which we talk about science, Ramesh is keen to unveil the many ways we can work in science, too. 

A few years ago, a teacher in Rhode Island asked him on Twitter to make a Flipgrid video talking about his job. Months later, he was still creating weekly videos for her students that included open-ended science questions for them to chat about. By the end of the school year, he paraded his phone around campus introducing his colleagues so the students could learn about other types of scientists out there. 

“To me, there was an opportunity to help students understand just how diverse science could be,” Ramesh says. “I think students think of a biologist and have a picture in their mind that they work with animals or in the lab, but I’m always fascinated by the scientists that exist!”

Today, he’s still introducing the many different scientists in our world with the #1000STEMWomenProject, a platform that gives women 90 seconds on Flipgrid to explain their job and perhaps encourage a young student to consider something beyond just biology. 

“I want kids to learn about a reproductive neurobiologist, a cosmetic chemist or any other sub-discipline and realize that it’s something you could be or do,” Ramesh says. “And the motivation for the scientists is that they get that same practice as my students – explaining their science well and in a concise format.  

“That skillset takes practice, right? But both with the STEM project and my students, those connections happen through conversation, and it works. We had a seventh-grade girl who, at the end of a video we made about giraffes’ necks, said, ‘You know, I never really liked science, and I was never really good at science, but you got me interested now.’ My tear ducts were empty for six months! 

“I played that video for my students and said, ‘I want you guys to think about the impact you are having on students in classrooms wherever these videos are seen,’ ” Ramesh concludes. “As college students, you think about this as an assignment, but you have an impact well beyond the walls of this classroom. And that’s all empowered by Flipgrid.”

As published for Microsoft Education.

Students excel in technology to make friends worldwide

In the cold snap of January two years ago, empowered by the fresh start of a new year, Nathalie Mathieu took a risk. 

For a private school teacher in Dijon, France, big change is a big deal, but after ten years of teaching English to high school students, she decided that her classroom and her entire perspective on teaching needed to look a little different anyway. 

“I had no choice,” says Nathalie, who also teaches higher education alongside her 100 English-learning students. “I was feeling great – I loved teaching and I loved my students – but I knew exactly where I was going. I was feeling too comfortable in giving the same kind of teaching for 10 years, so that’s when I knew I had to let go of everything and learn something new.” 

But for Nathalie, change wasn’t just for her. If anything, it mattered more that the risk was a collaborative effort with her students. So when she was introduced by a colleague to Microsoft digital tools to use in the classroom, she immediately looked to her kids for approval. 

“I spent weekends over several months learning about Teams, OneNote and Flipgrid,” she says. “But I was discovering them at the same pace as my students. We were learning together. I was completely honest and just said, ‘You know what? I’m going to try something new with you, and we can help each other. You can tell me if you like it or not, and I’ll tell you the same,’ and now we’ve all become more self-confident because of it.”

Nathalie says the students continue to surprise her with how well they use these tools in the classroom, and she’s also surprised with just how deeply they needed the invigoration. 

“I have to be learning new things, so we don't get bored in class,” she says. “You will face obstacles along the way but stepping out of your comfort zone is a great, great thing to do for both the teacher and the students. I have completely changed everything about my teaching practice.”

Making New Friends From Anywhere

Nathalie respects how difficult it can be to switch toward a different teaching method. Change is scary, especially when what you’ve been doing works. But on the other side, Nathalie is anew. She’s wild with enthusiasm when she shares how her classroom has changed, where she’s been and who she’s all met. Both she and her students have friends across the world.

“We’ve had such a great adventure with GridPals,” says Nathalie, who completed a couple different projects this past year with a high school French class in Ellicott City, Maryland. “Her students first chose topics like sports and holidays, then Mrs. Ghezzi had the idea to start a topic on America and France in a Box.” 

The students would talk about which objects they could put in a box that represented their country until the American students decided to send an actual Christmas gift box to their GridPals in France.

“The reaction from both the students on her side and on mine when we received the Christmas boxes was really great, just such an awesome experience,” she says. 

It’s a moment that continues to be matched, day after day, because Nathalie asked herself what’s possible. 

“For us, Flipgrid is not just about learning how to speak English, it’s learning about the culture of another country and sharing feelings of joy with students and teachers who are living thousands of miles away,” she says. “This has been so much change from what we’re used to doing, but so rewarding from the very beginning.”

As published for Microsoft Education.

In school, culture matters more, says teacher in Ohio

It’s a chilly Friday morning in the fall in Columbus, Ohio. 

For “Buckeye Nation,” this means there’s a football game tomorrow. At school, the students are wearing their scarlet and gray, the “Buckeye Battle Cry” is playing on the loudspeakers in between classes, and teacher Randall Sampson is marching down the hallway with his fists up. He chants loudly, “O-H!”

The students bustle around him. You can hear the shuffle of their feet, their lockers slamming shut and that squealing team spirit chatter. They respond to him immediately, “I-O!” 

Randall repeats himself – this time maybe walking a little faster as he bobs through the happy students, cupping his mouth with his big hands, raising his chin and deepening his voice – “I said, ‘O-H!’ ”

“I-O!” They cheer back. This goes on for at least a minute more, until each student retreats to their next class with a big smile on their face. Randall’s smiling, too. 

College football means a lot to families in O-H-I-O, but for Randall, those Friday mornings aren’t about the chants or a fight song or what you wear to school. It’s about the experience for the kids. 

“Every day’s not going to be peachy,” says Randall, who’s been in education for nearly 20 years. “But at the end of the day, these kids aren’t going to come back to talk about the Pythagorean theorem lessons they learned. Their best memories are going to be about the people who love them. 

“So tell me, what do you truly believe in? Your content? Or your culture?” 

Randall was raised in Pretoria, South Africa, where he spent his days around family dinners, going to church and playing with his cousins. 

“Everybody has a life story and a pathway they follow, and, for me, experiences were very rich,” Randall says. “I had family. I had people. We’re all a tight-knit community, and we played like kids do. Regardless of how difficult any situation might have been, we had that human connection, and those positive experiences far, far outweigh the negative.” 

At the age of 8, Randall and his family immigrated to the United States, where his mother would work as a nurse in Ohio. He remembers flying into New York City, when he awoke to the pilot on the speaker, “Ladies and gentlemen, look out to your left window. There’s New York City.”

“It was like a storybook,” Randall recalls. “I woke up, I looked out, and you could see the Statue of Liberty. I got out of that plane as a kid and I said to myself, ‘I’m here. Let’s go. Let’s make it happen.’ ”

Years later, the stars are still in his eyes, and his ambition fires more than ever. Randall is the kind of educator and the kind of human that changes people. 

For years, he worked both as a teacher and as an administrator for K-12 in the Columbus school districts. Randall was the one who knew everything about the kids, asking about families and initiating conversations in the hallway. He would sit with the students during in-school suspension, order them pizza and not let them leave until they felt loved, cared for and good about themselves, no matter what.

He would pass around a WWE wrestling belt as a reminder that all students are capable of success, achievement and support, and he was the teacher who showed the teachers what it meant to respect others, merely by being himself. 

“You got to be the person who takes some kind of action,” Randall assures. “So that’s what I do.”

Impact on students is ‘a long game’

Today, Randall owns Liberty Leadership Development, where he coaches teachers and studies data to close achievement gaps and boost graduation rates. Always with a keen focus on human interaction, he reminds fellow educators of intentional behavior and caring relationships above anything in the classroom.

“I always want to show folks that you can make an impact, but it’s a long game,” he says. “It’s like running a relay race. If I’m a fifth-grade teacher, I’m going to give those kids as much as I can during my time with them, but then I’m going to trust that my colleague in sixth grade is going to take the baton and keep running. 

“We’ve got to keep mentoring all the way through and building culture all the way through – truly honoring every kid, connecting deeply with every kid and empowering them.”

Not only did Randall grow up in Buckeye Nation, he played college football himself and then coached young kids every summer through the NCAA, so he knows the value of working together, and he sees the same system of success in education. 

“We’re very optimistic here – we got United States ambition! Big games, big hopes, but sports really do teach us the value of teamwork,” Randall says. “Every play in football, for example, is 5 or 6 seconds, but then you get 30 seconds in between, and those 30 seconds are about communicating the plan, executing the plan, holding hands and everybody aligning. If somebody tells you you’re misaligned, you’re okay with that. You want to shift and make it right for your team, right? 

“So what are we doing in education if we can’t tell a teacher, ‘You need to realign’? We need to always be checking in with each other, leading by example, believing in our kids, and we need to be here for the right reasons.

“What does that look like for you?”

Immigrant educator supports students with infectious energy

So much about learning is first finding that desire to connect to something. 

We grow only when we want to, when we feel empowered to do so and trust that whatever change is to come will make us better, stronger and happier. And, both for children and adults, it’s the relationships along the way that sustain this momentum. It’s the people who help us. 

Manny Curiel is a helper for the ages. Knowing that growth is possible in all of us – no matter who we are or where we came from or what we do not yet know – Manny celebrates learning every step of the way for you. He does not settle for reluctancy or complacency or fear. Instead, he revels in the journey with dance moves, neon colors, snapping fingers and a big, big smile that captivates you so deeply, you forget that one time you thought you weren’t good enough and instead rise to the occasion because you know people like him are on your side. 

“Let’s do this!” he says, when you’re already on your way. 

With relatability, honesty and a disco ball inside his heart, Manny makes people feel better about who they are and excited about who they can be, and it’s because he believes in himself first, then he believes in everyone else, too. 

“I enjoy making people happy,” says Manny, who first taught early elementary and works today as an EdTech specialist in Houston, Texas. “You know that excited feeling you have when you’re getting a present? I feel that way more in giving than receiving. It’s so rewarding to help someone realize they’re capable of doing something they thought they were not able to do. 

“Whenever teachers tell me they’re not tech-savvy, I say, ‘No! That’s a choice you are making, so get that out of your head, and let’s get this together.’ I believe in teachers so much.”

Empathy Guides the Teaching

Manny moved from Guadalajara, Mexico, to Houston on a Sunday in 2001. He was 20 years old, could not speak any English and immediately began work as a sous chef. As soon as he transitioned into education, he knew he would take his own growth experience to empower not only his young students, but their families, too. 

“I loved that I could help my community,” says Manny, who used to meet with parents at their homes, attend birthday parties and dinners and still receives texts and pictures from former student families today. “When I came here, I could not even have a conversation, and that’s the story I would tell my students. I always put myself as an example and would say to them, ‘I know you can be somebody in this country, so you have to learn the language,’ and then they were successful because they had a reason why.

“You have to take the time to hear your kids and be there for them and push them – you need to get them pumped! Making a connection with them will always give you more bang for your buck, and once you do, I guarantee you, you will see that they are the most amazing people.”

He has the same hope for adults. In presenting new technology, writing a blog and updating his YouTube channel for his many districts today, Manny focuses on simplicity and relatability the same way he did with his students. 

“My English is not the greatest, and I ramble a lot, but I always tell teachers, ‘My videos are not Hollywood production! We just need to convey a message, okay?’ ” he says with optimism and bravery and charisma that stays with you. With teachers like Manny, you remember how good it feels to surprise yourself. 

“It’s hard to acknowledge that there are better ways to do what you have done for so long, but I value and honor the fact that so many teachers right now are willing to step out of what they believe. I always remind them, ‘You are a good teacher, and you have got to believe that you are a good teacher! So what is it you need to get there? How can I help?’ That’s when I feel like I’m making an impact.”