Self: The POWER of Education, Our Voices

When my parents separated, I was eight years old and with the end of their marriage came a new neighborhood and school. I really liked the students at my school; the teacher and I, however, did not hit it off. She generally looked scared of us, she always looked like she just rolled out of bed, and she didn’t seem prepared for what she was teaching. Naturally, the behavior in the class quickly deteriorated and one day, I shared that until she started teaching, I’d be reading my book in the corner (I know, I know).

She didn’t say anything in that moment but later demoted my reading group. I had been in the advanced group where we read chapter books. Now, I was told to go and join a new group. I was surprised, and hadn’t noticed before, that most of the kids in this group were Black and Latino. The advanced group was all White and Asian and…me.

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Self: Why I (Have to) Believe in The Open System

This story begins in 1920s Mexico. My grandmother’s parents were living in Zacatecas right after the Mexican Revolution. My great-grandfather found himself embroiled in a tumultuous situation when he was accused of stealing. A noose was put around his neck and he was ready to die.  At the very last minute, a local man ran up and told everyone that my great-grandfather wasn’t the thief; the crime was committed by a recently-apprehended criminal.  

After that, my great-grandfather decided to flee Mexico and move his family to Colorado.

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