On My Tenth Year Teaching Anniversary

A short account of my journey as an educator

By: Carina Saiidi Padilla

Beginnings

I was called to become a teacher a long time ago. I was a youth bible teacher as a teen at church. I prepared lessons and fun games to engage young kids in learning bible stories. When I graduated high school I left my hometown and the church to pursue higher education at UCLA. At 19 years old during the beginning of my sophomore year, I studied abroad in Madrid, Spain. This had been a dream of mine come true, to study and travel in Europe. Once there, I decided to teach English to young kids. From the comfort of their home, I taught them a few words and phrases. Though it was not easy at the beginning because they were extremely shy, I engaged them in a few games and coloring activities to review vocabulary. Eventually we were singing along to the Beatles’ “Yellow Submarine”. 

 Upon my return to UCLA, I became a tutor for athletes. This was the best job I had had so far in my young adult life. Not only was I making money and adding to my professional experience, I was contributing to my school and making a difference for our best athletes. Standing at 4 feet 11 inches tall, I tutored swimmers, runners, football and basketball players. Though their size did not intimidate me, it was quite an amusing site for a petite girl to tutor some of the tallest students on campus. I helped students with their writing, organization, and tutored them for history and language courses. It was empowering to see how I was able to command their attention, engage them intellectually and help them improve their skills and knowledge.

During my senior year, I decided to study abroad once again. This time in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil to learn Portuguese. This experience was life changing for me for so many reasons. From learning Brazilian slang to learning how to navigate the streets of Rio, my learning was not just academic but also interpersonal. During my last month, I decided to volunteer at a school in Vidigal, one of the hundreds of favelas in Rio. It was one of the most heart-warming experiences I had while in Brazil. The students were happy and engaged and at the end of the class, one of them said to me “Gostei da aula tia” (“I liked the class auntie”). Calling one “Tia/Tio” when there is no blood relation is a sign of endearment. The acknowledgement I received for the class as well as being called “tia” made me feel like I was truly making a difference.   

First Year Struggles

Driven by these experiences and my passion for social justice, I decided to apply to the Teach For America (TFA) program once I returned to the United States. With its mission to bring quality education to inner city schools and close the achievement gap, this organization recruits resilient and dedicated young graduates to serve as teachers all over the country. I always wanted to give back to the community, to inspire and empower others. Teaching seemed a great way to give back. I didn’t grow up around doctors, lawyers, scientists, or successful entrepreneurs. It was teachers who were my role models and the ones who inspired me and guided me to pursue higher education. I had received so many blessings from them so I felt it was the best way to pay it forward. TFA’s mission appealed to my values and desire to contribute to my community and make a difference for young students who, like me, came from inner city schools. Given my degrees after graduating from UCLA, I applied to be either a history or Spanish teacher for inner city schools either in Miami, San Antonio, or Los Angeles. As the Fates would have it, TFA assigned me to a Spanish teaching position at a predominantly Latino high school in Inglewood, California. My goal was not just to teach the language but to teach identity and love for oneself and one’s culture. 

I was only 23, fresh out of college and ready to transform the youth, or so I thought. Little did I know of the challenges ahead and that it would be me the one who would be transformed by this experience. In preparation for my new job, I completed a summer training with TFA at a middle school. It was rough to say the least. This was nothing like the tutoring jobs I had had before. The students were kids who failed one or several classes during the school year and had to make up the credits. So they were not the best behaved and their effort was low. I was teaching alongside 3 other new teachers. We were all struggling to keep our students engaged and running out of ideas for games and lesson plans. By some miracle, a veteran teacher who taught at the middle school was around and stepped in to help us. He facilitated a text we were reading with the students. And what I saw him do with these middle schoolers felt like magic. He had a presence that commanded respect and  he read the story in such an entertaining way that the students did not beep. As I observed him enchant the students with his narration, I thought to myself, “I will teach like him one day.”  

The summer came to an end and I had a few fleeting weeks to prepare for my new “real” job at the high school. My first day of school went great! I had planned every moment of the lesson and kept the teens interested and under control. We did personal introductions as an ice breaker, discussed the importance of telling our stories and having respect as a core value in class. I heard the kids approving of me with the Principal when he walked by, so I felt like I was going to do marvelously well the rest of the school year. But when I went home after the first class, I thought to myself, “now what? What do I teach them for the next 10 months?” I had some old text books and very few ideas for what to teach. I was lesson planning day by day and to say the least, it was exhausting. I would go home and nap for an hour or two. I had never been so tired in my life. I was physically, mentally and emotionally depleted after a few weeks. And to tap it off, I was also pursuing my master’s degree at Loyola Marymount University. Sometimes I would cry the whole drive back home. I had so many doubts about the profession I had chosen - Is this really what I want to do for the rest of my life? Is it worth it? Am I even making a difference? 

Some of my students did not like the high expectations I had in place. I asked them to speak only Spanish during class, I assigned homework almost everyday, and avoided downtime. Apparently, the teacher they had had the year before was quite lenient and students were used to that. They did not like change, especially if it meant more work. One day I discovered an insulting phrase in one of my textbooks, “Padilla is a bitch”. Based on the writing, I knew exactly who wrote it. She was a shy student in my first period class, often came in late and was very sleepy throughout class. I would have never expected this from her, but I knew her writing style very well. This is one of the secret skills teachers learn on the job, deciphering students’ writing. Sometimes, when students forgot to write their name on assignments, I knew who to assign points to because I quickly recognized their writing patterns. So I used this knowledge to my advantage. I gathered a few writing samples and took the book to the office. I did not take the offense personally, something I was very proud of as a first year teacher, but it was technically vandalism on school property. The school administrators took care of it and enforced some type of consequence. The student came back apologetic and never had an issue with her again. In fact, a few years later she took my summer school course and did much better, spoke more Spanish and completed assignments. During her senior year, she asked me for a letter of recommendation for her college application, which I happily wrote having observed her progress and maturity over the years.

Midway through the semester of my first year, I had my first professional observation — one of the most nerve racking experiences new teachers go through. The Assistant Principal, a quiet and austere man, sat through a good chunk of the class silently observing me and my students. He typed everything I said and did, walked around to observe my students’ conversations and work. The evaluation went okay I thought, but when the Assistant Principal had the debrief meeting and shared the results, I was devastated. According to the rubric, I was “not meeting” or “partially meeting” most of the dreadfully long list of teaching standards. I went home and cried. I felt like a failure, I was not making a difference, if anything I was doing a disservice to my students. The next day, I talked to Mr. V, one of my best friends at work. He was an older gentleman who had been teaching for over 30 years. In typical Mexican fashion, he told me “manda todo a la chingada!” (send it to hell!). He made me laugh but more importantly advised me against taking evaluations too personally and restored my confidence. I kept going forward. I asked my administrators for support and for funds to purchase new books. I also reached out to veteran teachers and visited their classrooms to see them do “magic” in their classroom. These mentors provided more than teaching strategies, they gave me hope and a vision of what was possible as a teacher. I survived the first year of teaching with a sense of pride as I had completed one of the most challenging undertakings in my life. 

Progress 

After a restful summer break came year two, which I thought would be much better. It was in some ways but in many others it wasn’t. I knew how to make better lesson plans, how to engage students more, but it was still a hard job with so many elements to balance. I was a graduate student working on a thesis, had moved out of my parents’ to a tiny studio apartment 5 minutes away from work, and was simply learning to be a responsible adult. I also took on additional roles at my school, supervising a few clubs on campus which took my lunch and after school time. But I really enjoyed those moments because I was able to connect with my kids outside of the classroom setting. This involvement was a way for me to show I cared, and for young inner city students, these extracurricular activities are as important as academics. More importantly, showing that I cared for my students was perhaps the most important strategy to have a long-lasting impact. 

During this second year, I implemented a project I had observed in Mr. V’s AP Spanish Language class. He called it “La Bolsa” (The Bag) and it was an identity project where students drew images of their past, present and  future on a brown lunch bag and placed a personally meaningful object inside the bag. They had 5 minutes to present their life’s story. This presentation became my favorite project and I repeated it year after year. I modeled the project for students, talking to them about important parts of my life. I shared a few stories about my past – the constant moves between the US and Mexico, my low-self esteem which led to a period of anorexia and bulimia as a teen, and my experience at UCLA and abroad with a full scholarship. Then I talked about issues I was dealing with presently as an adult, such as learning to live on my own, pay bills, and about my new boyfriend (now husband). I finally shared the vision I had for my future, which included being a college professor, owning my own home, and traveling to new places around the world. I also showed them a picture of my family and a collection of key chains from different countries I had visited. Students passed the picture and key chains around and were invited to ask follow up questions. They also graded me with the same rubric I would use to grade them. This made it fun for my students because they learned about keeping high expectations, connected with me at a personal level, heard my struggles and aspirations, and got them excited for their own projects. 

I was not prepared for the level of vulnerability and openness my students brought to class on the day of the presentations. Students shared intimate stories about death of family members, separation of parents, immigration, deportation, and other heart wrenching stories. Many students cried during their presentations - I and other peers joined them with some tears. But students also shared stories of hopes and dreams for their future, they talked about their passions, hobbies, friends and family. They asked follow up questions and even hugged each other after their presentations. I felt as though this presentation created that sense of magic I had been wishing to create in my class. It set the tone for the rest of the school year, not just academically but personally. The safe space we created to express intimate stories bonded us. 

During this same year I was working on my master’s thesis and decided to study a topic relevant to my students’ experience as Latinos in the US. I researched the connection between identity and language. I learned about assimilative pressures coming from mainstream culture, media, governmental policies, and even peers, which is an experience often accompanied by negative ideologies and stereotypes about the Spanish-speaking community. I conducted surveys and interviews amongst my students who had varying levels of Spanish fluency. My research demonstrated that students with higher fluency levels in Spanish showed more positive perceptions about the language and about themselves. They also showed higher levels of self-esteem and a more assertive sense of identity than students with lower levels of Spanish fluency. Earning the “Researcher of the Year Award” for my thesis validated my efforts as a scholar and instructor. This project was significant for me because it informed my teaching practices as I became more transparent and strategic in developing biliteracy and bilingual skills in my students. Furthermore, sharing results with my students was impactful because they were able to see themselves reflected in academic research. It also helped them to understand the importance of their identity and native language.

I finished my second year with a master’s degree and much better evaluation ratings, but more importantly with a sense of accomplishment and purpose. I also decided to stay in the classroom, something that many TFA recruits don’t do given the demanding nature of the job. At the beginning of my third year, a former student who was now a senior entered my class and said, “Ms., it looks like you are doing better this year”. Though I felt a bit embarrassed, his words were heartwarming because he remembered me as a flustered first-year teacher and saw my growth over the years. Students notice what we do, they sense our attitude, they pick up on our mood and energy. They also see our level of commitment to them and to our work.

I eventually moved to another school after I got married. This was also  a predominantly Latino high school and in fact had many newcomer students who were learning English. I continued to implement the “La Bolsa” project and year after year, I witnessed students open their hearts with touching stories. I incorporated many opportunities to discuss deep themes throughout the year, using literature, art, and cultural practices to encourage students to draw comparisons between history, current events and their personal lives. Students thanked me for teaching them about their culture, their history, their origins - including their pre hispanic roots. Several of them had indigenous last names and their families spoke maya Quiche, Zapotec or Nahuatl, the language of the Aztecs. I encouraged them to be proud of their identity, of their skin color, of their native languages because it was a sign of cultural resistance and survival for 500 years. Many felt empowered and a sense of pride after seeing their culture represented in class. 

At this new school, I noticed that there were no plans or events to celebrate Hispanic Heritage Month. So I took it upon myself to organize a festival, inviting students, teachers and parents and asking them to bring a food donation for the party. I was not sure how the event would turn out since I was still new at the school and didn’t have a strong relationship with the community yet. I hired a DJ using school funds, asked a few students to perform traditional dances and waited for the day. Families slowly trickled in and the festival turned out to be a great success. People danced, ate and celebrated our culture and contributions to the USA. At the end of the night, our school counselor thanked me for organizing the event and taking the initiative to bring school spirit.

Challenges, lessons, and gray hair

Though I loved the challenge of teaching students and creating fun and engaging lessons and activities, it wasn’t always easy. I had many students who loved me dearly but also students who didn’t care about my class or simply didn’t like school (and I don’t blame them). Teaching in inner city, under resourced schools is not for the weak of heart. I had many students with special needs, socioemotional issues, poverty, domestic violence, trauma, even homelessness. Many times, it was simply teenage angst, hormones and rebelliousness that took the best of them during class. And I wasn’t always the perfect fun teacher I seemed to be for my good students. I had many moments when I lost my temper, yelled at my students, and cried on my way home. Today I joke and say that the few gray hairs I have bear the names of some of these rowdy children. But more than mementos of those difficult days, they are lessons I have learned because our students, behaved or not, teach us lessons too.   

One day, I got so upset at a disrespectful student that I literally felt the rush of cortisol (or whatever hormone it was) all over my body. I had never experienced this during class, my body was getting ready for fight or flight response. I immediately thought to myself, “this is not healthy. I need to control myself”. I sent the student to the office because I couldn’t handle him and wanted to be my best self for my other students. This “disrespectful” student was soon diagnosed with ADHD and given an IEP (Individualized Educational Plan). I sat in a meeting with him, his mom, our principal, and counselor to talk about strategies to help him do better in school. During the conversation, I learned about the trauma he faced at home with an abusive alcoholic father. At the end of this meeting, as we sent the student back to class, I secretly suggested to him to give his mom a kiss – and he did. It was sweet to witness this tender moment from a student I had considered rude and disrespectful. This experience helped me come from a more understanding position, remembering that students come with baggage to the classroom, and they often don’t have the socioemotional tools to separate school from their personal life. It’s not always easy for teachers as well. As I’ve matured over the years, I wish I had had the knowledge and patience I have now to be of better service to these troubled teens.

“M” was another student who just couldn’t focus in class. He also had ADHD but was so brilliant and actually very respectful towards me but he just couldn't focus in class. I decided to be a sort of cheerleader for him and for about a month I wrote encouraging post-it notes for him and quietly handed it to him or placed it on his desk. “M, échale ganas”, “Today is a new day”, “You got this”, etc. I noticed he read the notes but I didn’t think they made much of a difference until one day I noticed he had been collecting them in his binder. It melted my heart and I realized that these little touches mean a lot to students who constantly get in trouble and hardly ever hear words of affirmation.

Magical Moments

One year, I decided to do an end-of-the-year discussion with an all senior class. I had given them some life questions, asked them to reflect on their experience as graduating high schoolers and on their goals for college and beyond. This was another of those magical moments I experienced with my students. I had actually invited my husband who is a lawyer to provide some advice and words of wisdom but his speech was moved to the end of class because the conversation with my students was just so deep. We talked about some sad moments they had experienced, such as deportation and family separation, of hard work and little resources. With tears in our eyes, we talked about the efforts and sacrifices of our immigrant parents not being in vain as long as we keep moving forward in life. It was so touching to see some of my male students open their hearts and shed tears. At the end of the conversation, one of my students told me to never lose my passion for what I do because they feel it and it means a lot to them. It was a moment of collective catharsis.

During my last year at this school that I came to love so much, I organized an educational trip to Spain. It had been a dream of mine to do at least one student trip as a form of paying it forward. My own passion for travel was ignited by my English high school teacher who took us to England and France. I had worked part of my Sophomore and junior year to pay for this life-changing experience that I now wanted to give to my own students. It was not easy having to justify the large expense to parents and making myself responsible for the lives of their children abroad. Many parents were already overworked, had very little money but 18 of them committed to this experience. For several months I hosted multiple fundraisers with my students to help cover some expenses. My husband secretly donated a few hundred dollars for one of my top students who was about to drop out due to family hardships. For many of them it was their first trip abroad, their first passport, the first airplane ride, and a life-changing experience for all of us. The only other chaperone besides myself and my husband was Mr. S, a dedicated Calculus teacher who designed and printed t-shirts for all of us with a Don Quijote and windmills, one of Spain’s national symbols. 

After an 11 hour direct flight, we landed in Madrid and were greeted by our lovely tour guide who took us to Plaza Mayor. I gave each of my students a small journal so they could reflect on their experiences. We had a little ritual at the end of every day, gathering at the hotel lobby and discussing our favorite moments and lessons. Students shared how much they enjoyed the sites we visited. They connected it to some of the things we had learned in my Spanish class. But they also shared about missing home and valuing their parents for gifting them this experience. We had beautiful moments together, shared many laughs and deep conversations, but they also stressed me out  a few times, especially when they were late to the rendezvous point or woke up late for breakfast. I was definitely a strict but loving mom for these children. At the end of the trip, I encouraged them to keep traveling and discovering the world at their own pace and in their own terms — this trip was just an appetizer. My colleague Mr. S also added a few thoughtful words, saying that he never thought it would be possible to have this type of experience offered at our school, but thanks to me, it was made a reality. We finished our trip reading Don Quijote’s wise words: “El que lee mucho y anda mucho, ve mucho y sabe mucho” (He who reads much and walks much, sees much and knows much). 

Leaving this school was one of the most difficult decisions I have made in my professional life. I was so attached to the students and really loved my colleagues and administrators. It was heartbreaking to deliver the news to my students — I would not be returning for the next school year. In our farewells, one of my most brilliant students who was beginning to explore her identity and own life philosophy made a surprising confession to me. Inspired by the themes and concepts learned in my Spanish literature course, she got a tattoo on her chest that said “Carpe Diem”. It was definitely a surprise but I was happy she was making her own decisions and honored to see that my class had such a personal impact on her life. On graduation day, I was honored to receive the “Teacher of the Year” Award. It was accompanied by a touching speech from one of my most beloved students who called me “altruistic, inspiring” and the “school mom.” I closed this chapter of my life feeling I had truly made a difference in young students' lives. Seeing them go off to college, including UCLA my alma mater, felt like the closing of a full circle.

New Beginnings

A few months later, I traveled to Bali for the holidays and attended a silent retreat. One of the suggested activities was to write out anything weighing us down on a small paper and burn it in the nightly bonfire. I wrote a few lines asking for the release of guilt and for forgiveness. I specifically apologized to a few students for whom I had not been the greatest teacher. I listed their names and asked for them to find good mentors in their life. I folded the note, made a silent prayer, and threw it on the bonfire. A few days later on New Year's Eve, I received a phone call. It was a three way call with two of my former students. One of them was one of the students on my list! He wished me a happy new year and told me he was attending a community college and was enjoying his time there. Words cannot express the gratitude, peace and sense of awe I experienced after this phone call. I truly felt like God and the Universe had received my message and forgiven me for my mistakes as a younger teacher. 

Stepping away from the classroom had given me a serious identity crisis – who was I if I was not a teacher? How was I going to serve my community outside the classroom? Could I have the same level of impact? These questions loomed large in my mind and I did not have a clear answer. In late 2019, I began to produce a series of podcasts to share my knowledge of Spanish literature and history. Little did I know that this project I started as a side interest to finetune my digital skills would end up supporting thousands of students and teachers, especially during the pandemic when many schools were not equipped for the online learning transition. I continued working on this online presence creating a YouTube channel, an Instagram account and a website. I have received countless emails and messages thanking me for all the resources I have shared. I am so blessed to continue to make a difference for students. Thanks to the power of technology, my reach goes further than before, and I am committed just as ever to continue this journey. 

Dreams do come true

Today, I am a doctoral student at the University of California, Irvine and an adjunct professor at Concordia University. The dream I shared for my future in the “La Bolsa” project ten years ago came true - I became a college professor! I affirmed my goals in front of my students for ten years in a row and now I am living what seemed so distant for a 23-year-old high school teacher. I hope this inspires others who are creating a vision for their future. And what do you do when you get to that destination? You keep going, looking for new horizons and dreams. But first, take a moment to acknowledge and celebrate how far you have come, reflect on the lessons and blessings of the journey. 

Exactly ten years ago, at the end of my first semester as a high school teacher, I sobbed in the bathtub of my tiny studio. They were tears of joy, of sadness, of exhaustion, of confusion, of accomplishment. I was not sure if I would last in this profession but I was so proud of that first semester, of learning to be a professional and an adult. I savored the feeling of earning a vacation. Today, I celebrated my first semester as a college professor with a glass of wine next to my loving and supportive husband who has walked by my side the last ten years. Oh, little did I know what life had in store for me. Who knows what the next decade will bring? I can’t wait to experience it all - the good, the bad and the additional gray hairs! 

Educators, though often undervalued and underpaid, play a crucial role in society. We have the responsibility of loving - because teaching is truly an act of love - and molding young people through the power of knowledge and thus shaping the future. I have taken as my personal motto Nelson Mandela's words: “Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world”. I seek to be a student and teacher for the rest of my life and continue to inspire others along the way. Today I celebrate in humble gratitude a decade of teaching and touching hearts and minds.

Here is to many more years of service.

In solidarity and love,

Carina

December 2022

A Walk Down Memory Lane…