
My class, the fifth graders, leaders of upper elementary!

My class, the fifth graders, leaders of upper elementary!

A few years ago my sister and I harvested bitter melon and we couldn’t wait to bring it home and eat it.
We ignored the word bitter.
It was so bitter we put it in compost and did not harvest anymore. I think we let the rest return to the earth.
This week during PD, I heard some teachers talking about bitter melon as if it was the most wonderful meal they had in a while. I was curious.
Did y’all say bitter melon?
Yes, you had it before?
Yes, from the garden! It was really nasty tho.
Oh, Ms. Hurley, don’t Yuck someone else Yum.
Okay…I am curious thou, are y’all cooking it?
Yes, with salt fish and we eat it with bake.
This morning, Ms. Cheryl, shared some out to the staff – she said she made the bitter melon with salt-fish and her husband made the bake. It was much better than the raw one I picked from the garden.

Class, I started off, today’s precept is: “Don’t tell me the sky is the limit when there are no footprints on the moon”. I then waited as I always do after I read the precept. Their job is to talk about its meaning. There are no right or wrongs. Just conversation.
Madison who sits in the front and is often fumbling with her papers and trying to avoid lifting her voice first, spoke back almost immediately.
But Ms. Hurley, it’s all apart of God’s work!
Well, look at you getting all spiritual and philosophical! Explain please.
This lead to a conversation about where dreams come from and how connected we are to the universe.
At the end I asked them, so, is the sky the limit?
Well, yes. It is the responded.
Then we have to look past the moon when discussing our dreams in the fourth grade.



This little kid made sure to visit his sister’s class all year long. He sat at the computer learning with her and most times when I would ask his sister a question, he would fight her to answer it himself.
Once, the children had a conversation about what age it was appropriate to make a bed. Right when the class was about to agree that a 4 year old could not make up a bed, he turned on his sister’s camera and told us he made up his own bed. Then, we all sat then in silence.
Forget it when it was time to make projects or have fun. I had to beg him. “please allow your sister to speak” then his parents would come and take him to the next room.
He’s so bold. I thought.
But that was all virtually because when I ran into him and his dad in the train station, he refused to show his face.



As tradition has it, every first Monday of each month, my school would gather for assembly. We will lift our voices and sing the anthem.
This Monday we were muted. We listed to a muffled Dr. Roland Carter version.
We listened to our Principal tell us the virtue of the month, Resilience. Resilience.
And, just like that, Assembly was over.
When the question was asked, anyone have anything to say, the students unmuted their microphones and said hi. Cries of children saying hi as if they wouldn’t have an opportunity to be heard. Calling teacher names and saying they missed them.
This was the first assembly I cried. The first assembly I didn’t have to speak to any children nor lead them in a rendition of the Black National Anthem.
Another voice came. Assembly is over, please hang up.
No one moved. Everyone stayed. No one spoke. just stayed in the call. Until the call was dropped.
My curiosity about the history of Route 66 was sparked by my third grade students.
During the lessons, I could not answer many of their questions; therefore, I conducted a lot of research before and after each lesson.
I was grateful when I came across Ruth and the Green Book by Calvin Alexander Ramsey which was/is a great resource….and I want to say, the only one for children covering this topic.
(I find that sometimes when teaching the history of my people, not a lot of material is out there and if it is, it’s not for children. Which most times, is okay with me because I think children should be told the same story adults are told. Especially when these children are black and brown children who are taught to have a double conscience…)
So, for lessons about Route 66, YouTube came in handy. They watched Candancy Taylor’s documentary on Route 66 and I was blown away by what they understood about a time period that came before them (and their parents)!
Are blacks allowed to travel on Route 66 today? What’s redlining? What happened to Route 66? How does a road disappear? So, there are absolutely no businesses there now?? What happened to the black people? Do you think Nat King Cole took Route 66?
Without Taylor’s research I don’t think I would have been able to answer most of their questions so efficiently.
After the year ended, I had forgotten about the videos and Taylor’s research. Then, one day in January, I received an email from the Schomburg inviting me to Taylor’s book signing.
Of course, I didn’t turn down a chance to meet the author and buy her book. Overground Railroad: The Green Book and the Roots of Black Travel in America was finally on the shelves. I told the now fourth graders about her success, to which they were jealous they couldn’t attend ( but couldn’t wait to see that book was signed to them)!!
I called a couple of my friends who I knew would appreciate the topic and we met at the Schomburg to listen to Taylor speak about her research. 
I was already familiar with some information, since I had watched her on YouTube so many times before. Nonetheless, hearing her speak in person meant a lot to me.
One of my favorite stories she tells is the one of her step-father Ron (which is at the beginning of the book) and how the project brought them closer. When she started the project, he opened up to her about what he had been through as a black man traveling through America. After he passed, she found the courage and grace to continue her research. This story resonates with me for many personal reasons. It makes me think of the sacrifices of my parents and grand-parents and the stories they took to the grave with them (or shared) about what they experienced. Likewise, it also resonates with me because of social reasons. It reminds me of the many historians who dedicated their life to documenting and researching topics that are out of the ordinary.
The night of the book signing we didn’t mind waiting over a hour (Ishita waited till the last minute to pick up a copy) to get our books signed.
When I met Ms. Taylor, she was extremely kind and patient. She listened to my story about my students and told me she is also writing a book for children (thank God!).
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