In an activity led by Katie Martin and Katie Weisberg of Learner Centered Collaborative recently, I was asked to write a short story about a student from my life. We were reimagining school, envisioning what personalization, competency, inclusive and equitable, authentic learning opportunities can do for learner as part of our vision work. The first face that came to mind was a student I will call Marco (not his real name). This is what I wrote:

When Marco arrives to school he is greeted by name at the front gate with a smile, as the staff give him a fist bump and say they are glad to see him today. Marco smiles as he walks to get his breakfast, where he sits quietly with a few friends as they eat breakfast before heading to their class.

The teacher begins class with a morning meeting, where each student is encouraged to share how they are feeling on a scale of 1-5 and given an opportunity to explain why with more details if they want. Marco shares that he is a “one because of some family stuff,” but doesn’t say more during the circle time. Once the class starts some independent work, the teacher speaks quietly to Marco to check in on him. He shares that his uncle got in trouble the night before and his family is a mess. The teacher comforts Marco, offering his time to visit with the school counselor. He asks if he can go later because he doesn’t want to miss research time, which comes after the read aloud. The teacher is reading a novel about a student whose ethnicity matches Marco and whose family and traditions are familiar to him. He participates during the daily class discussion about the novel more than he does in many other lessons.

During research time Marco is studying people who have turned graffiti into a career, as he is a talented artist whose teachers have noted his strenths. Marco’s teacher surprises him with a private Zoom session with a local professional artist who looks at Marco’s art and encourages him to keep working on it. At the end of the Zoom, Marco is glowing with pride and his new ideas for his next art project.

By the end of the day, Marco has had two full, free meals at school, he enjoys exploring one of his personal passions, he had a personal connection with both his teacher and the school counselor where he felt safe and cared for, and he is sent home with a backpack of donated groceries to share with his family.

The Letters

Before I share the reality of Marco’s experience in school I have to step back, all the way to my first year of teaching. During the end of my first year of teaching I had all of my students write themselves a letter that I promised I would send them when they graduated high school. I was teaching 8th graders that first year, so they were writing four years into the future. They all brought in self addressed envelopes and left their letters with me, sealed and ready to be mailed by me in four years. During each year I taught, I continued this tradition. I kept each class of letters together with a rubber band and label for the year I needed to mail them. Those first letters moved from Virginia to California with me and I was so excited to put my return address on them and mail off the first batch.

It was so exciting when I would hear back from a student, who took the time to write me back. I was able to see a new version of my students, some of whom were heading off to college and others to careers. Some shared how silly their letters had been, and how they couldn’t believe how immature they were back in 8th grade. Some shared that the goals they had written for themselves were coming true and they were proud. Not all students wrote me back, but each time I heard from a former student I was touched deeply.

Returning to Marco’s Story

When we were asked to share our stories in small groups, I couldn’t get through reading this without crying. I had to share with my groups (twice – they made us do this twice, so I was an emotional wreck!) that my story was a dream I wish had come true for my former student. The truth was that by the time I taught Marco in 8th grade, he was already jumped into a gang, with family members who had been killed and injured, and he did not feel successful in school. A few years later, Marco made a collect call to me from jail, where he was awaiting trial for murder. Marco was able to reach me because he had received the letter he wrote himself in 8th grade, in my class.

I am still devastated when I think about Marco, his friends and family, and other students like him. I can still hear his voice saying, “Miss I?” I cried writing my fictional story because I wished that it could have been true for him. Schools have the power to change the trajectory of a student’s life, in positive or negative ways. In the case of Marco, school did not help him escape circumstances beyond his control, nor did we honor the talents and skills he had to create a different life. If Marco had been in schools that created authentic learning opportunities that were personalized to his interests and strengths, where he was honored for the competencies he demonstrated in a variety of ways, his future might have been vastly different.

I am still reflecting about this activity and about my past students and their lives. I am also reflecting on the learning models we see in many classrooms. I am thrilled to see more personalization than I have seen in past years in my career. I’m proud of the work our district has done to bring greater representation to life in classrooms, ensuring that students see more of themselves and the entire global society within their learning. I also recognize that there is more work to be done to ensure we are reaching every student, and ensuring a brighter future for all learners.