Today was my students’ graduation day. I’m still practicing purposeful silence from speaking publicly as a result of my year with them. They challenged me beyond measure. They depleted me of all desire of being seen. They muted my productions. —All by amplifying their voice. They needed me to be fully present. Their growth may not be seen in standardized test scores or even in the essays I hung up for their parents to see at graduation. Their writing is still below grade level. They still don’t read as avidly as they need. But they grew. Like the roots chasing the water in the cave of dreams in Tulum.
I have seen them grow, from the places nightmares shine more than suns. Sons.
I have seen them finish, in the same seats my grandmother dropped out of.
I see my babies and I see them as young adults at the same time. I see. What others may call lazy, as light.
It’s still shining in my eye and it burns when I look too long.
Now ...is not the time for me to feel guilty about how much we
did not do. Now, I dance and sing rejoicefully!
My babies made it. Yes, they damn sure did!