I'm Gon': who's with me?

7 days ago
8 min read

Here are my keys. Thank you. And I just walked off campus.

I came as an English teacher and left as an aspiring stay-at-home dad.

Gratitude is definitely the biggest value I have learned from teaching at a Jesuit Catholic school. Yes, even in a legacy PWI, where both my blackness and my work ethic were unapologetically undeniable, I created a sense of home by finding allies, advocates, and accountability-partners all over campus. That said, I want to make sure my daughter Ivy grows up knowing to water her relationships and give people their flowers.

You’re probably wondering how a Black male educator, raised Southern Baptist from Temple, Texas, ended up teaching a little more than a decade at a Catholic private school in San Francisco, California. Well, let me tell you about the people who introduced me to St. Ignatius.

HOW IT ALL STARTED...12 YEARS AGO

One of my former colleagues back in the crazy Ber-zerk-ley days, back when I taught middle school Humanities in a small hippy Berkeley school, asked if I wanted to teach summer school at her old high school. Little did we know, her invitation would change my perspective, my path, and my pockets forever. Out of the kindness of her heart and maybe respect for my dedication to the kids and the work, she opened the door. I know social media makes a big stink about “gatekeepers,” but just know that when you do right by people and people see the right that you do, people with open hearts and open minds can and will open doors. Besides being the critical connector for me, Ms. GV has always been about serving Black and Brown communities, empowering young women, and repping the Bay. This woman gave back to her alma mater by working in the same first-gen program that made college accessible for her. Amazing educators and advocates are (un)fortunately forged in the burning house that is our education system. A simple “you good?” from my big sis did so much interiority work for me. More courteous than curt, this all-purpose question was an invitation to check myself, an invitation to ground myself, and an invitation to love myself enough to want better and do better. I can’t say that she would call herself an Ignatian in name, but her empathy and continual service definitely make her one in action. Besides, I knew she was guiding me in the right direction when she taught me how to take the BART from Lake Merritt to the Sunset. If you know, you know. A real one.

During the interview process for this summer school gig, I came across the coolest, the smoothest, the most unapologetically Black and most beloved educator in Mr. Sun. He was the face of this first-gen program on campus. When I think about why I started this blog, Mr. Sun is one of those inspirations and aspirations. He felt like more than the director of the program. When big personalities popped off at each other out of passion, he was the mediator, the voice of reason, the Advil, the glue, the anchor. Ironically, this man has always been about dancing and moving his body, so I was blessed to witness his graceful administrative choreography, specifically the way he kept balance as a leader and liaison between the BIPOC and the PWI. Not only did he carve out a space for us, BIPOC educators, but he also showed me how to care for our Common Home.

Eventually, I got the summer school job. In that time, I worked with some amazing folks. I know that we cannot expect coworkers and supervisors to be our friends, our confidantes, or our advocates. However, for me, I managed to survive and thrive in education because of the talented and loving people in the trenches with me.

My summer school principal turned director always believed in me. Always warm and welcoming, Mrs. A always sat down with people, eye-to-eye, side-by-side. As a woman, let alone a woman of color in leadership, especially in a PWI, Mrs. A mastered the art and science of leading with love and speaking love into the people. And the concept of love languages does not even come close to capturing this woman’s capability, competency, and Cura Personalis. Even years after summer school, Mrs. A would call me to collaborate with her at different school sites. Even though she heard the story of my educational journey so many times, Mrs. A always encourages me to share it with more people. Mrs. A always kept her door open and never wanted any conversation about the kids to end. For a person who has given so much of her blood, sweat, and tears to these schools, she still treats everyone as if they were her own blood. Under her leadership, I could just be me, my goofy, geeky, gumptious self.

And then there was my on-campus Auntie (or Tia), one of the real unsung heroes, the one who was quick to check me: Ms.OG. This woman literally had my back when we were wrongfully forced out of an empty restaurant for being Black and Brown people having a good time. Long story short, we, summer school teachers, decided to leave a restaurant due to poor treatment; as we were leaving, literally outside the establishment on the sidewalk, a waiter came outside and got in my face. I am no fighter, weighing only 145 pounds, but I will defend myself and my people. That day, Ms.OG was ready. Besides being one of my biggest advocates, Ms. OG always kept it real with me. Accountability 101. We have had honest conversations, some of which harder than others but all from a place of mutual love and respect. Actually, we laugh harder than we fight. Ironically, one of her many responsibilities on campus is to find space for people. And she did just that, so I have no reservations about her character. There are people behind the scenes or pushed into the shadows or the margins who do so much for you and the community, and we don’t even notice it or want to recognize it. Check on ya folks, regardless of placards, office size, last names, legacy, reserved parking spots, departments, or lackthereof. And it's not about shining my light on these folks. Lose the deficit model. Know that these community members like a Ms. OG have their own light, a light that they decide to share with you each day, a light that does not discriminate between faculty and staff, a light that provides brilliance when workspaces get dark. And let me say this, some of our coworkers do not look for the spotlight; they own their specific domain and appreciate when some of us go see them for a change. Thank you, Ms. OG, for finding light in all things, especially in me.

As a man of color who can be beguiled and or blinded by his own male pride and ego, I have been blessed to be not only humbled but also trusted by powerful women of color.

Another person that brought me into the community was Mr. SL. With over 20 years of service in education and the church, Mr. SL truly talked the talk and walked the walk of a real life Jesuit. He stood for something, and he honestly stood on business, more so on his faith and values. I grew up with people who read me the Bible. Shout-out to my grandmothers and aunties back home. Sorry, grandma, for sleeping through Mass at Corinth. Mr. SL, through his actions, gave me a different perspective on the word. While my Black matriarchs gave me the gospel for moral development and home training (as my momma would say), Mr. SL used mission as metrics to evaluate a school's self-actualization. He was definitely not a pontificator or proselytizer, but someone who used stories (both biblical and personal) to invite students and colleagues to find and listen to their inner voice for justice. Every new teacher needs at least one elder on campus, someone with the wisdom to help you walk through spaces with a healthy set of expectations and intentionality. From the day that I met him, this man has been nothing but honest, honorable, and discerning in the ways that he has shown up as a man of faith, a father of daughters, and a filter between mission and misfeasance.

As you can see, many people in my life have served as nodes, receiving, recognizing, and routing me across different professional circuits and circles. And then there’s Mr. GF, someone who was like an industry godfather, known to make and maintain networks as well as optimize network effects to keep everyone accountable, active, and adjacent. Cliche, I know, but strength in numbers. This man helped so many people of color in the world of PWIs, always equipping POC with enough game including institutional context, vision, and codes of conduct to protect not only themselves but also the kids. "Show 'em how to move in a room full of vultures. Industry shady, it need to be taken over." For me, this man took me under his wing and gave me the reins to one of his interdisciplinary courses, a course that furthered my skills and my scholarship. A wealth of knowledge, this man gave me so many books and so many “war stories” that challenged me to rethink the way I engage my craft, my curriculum, my colleagues, and my consciousness. His rolodex contained hundreds of contacts, but he made time for me, inviting me to lead youth workshops and meet other well-known industry practitioners. Wherever he went, he left an impact. I have been blessed to see and understand the “Magis” through this man. He gave his life to the work, ad majorem dei gloriam.

Conclusion: Again, I understand that a job is a job for many people. No friends. No favors. No fanfare. Just clock in, clock out. And of course, teaching can lend itself to total isolation and insecurity, physically, psychologically, and financially. However, I have seen longevity, legacy, and ultimately life through the service and charism of these people. Because real-life, genuine connections feel like a luxury in a world of IRL live-streaming (parasocial activity), polarizing politics, and artificial intelligence, I admit my experience is uncommon. Due to a crappy economy and neglectful work environments, many people do not have the time, energy, desire, or motive to build community at work. I get it, it's work.

I can write for hours, days, years about the people who have set a fire down in my soul, before and after I met the Jesuits. I write this piece as a part of my Examen. I write this piece to let young people know the importance of building the interpersonal skills, the heart, and the gratitude necessary for long-term relationships. I write this piece to remind folks in education that healthy adult relationships facilitated by respectful, respectable work conditions are foundational to any kid finding, trusting, and investing in a community. I write this piece to recognize the impact of Ignatian values, but also to ponder collectivism, beyond cooperation, as a form of resistance, a means of self-preservation, and an inevitable response to an isolating, individualistic, corporatized modern America.

Here are the keys. Thank you. And I left with a community.

AMDG.