Not one right way

 The main argument of this reading is that neurological differences (like ADHD, autism, and learning disabilities) shouldn’t be seen as problems to fix, but as normal variations of the human brain that should be accepted and supported. The reading asks for a shift in perspective by explaining that neurodiversity is more of a mindset than a label. It says that “‘neurodiversity’ is the concept that there is natural variation in how people’s brains work, with no single ‘correct’ way.” That really challenges the way people usually think about these differences as something “wrong.” One part that stood out to me was the idea behind the neurodiversity movement. The reading says that instead of trying to “fix” people with autism or ADHD, we should focus on what they’re good at. I see this as directly connected to ableism, the idea that there’s one “normal” way to think, learn, or function, and anything outside of that is less than. This reading pushes back on that by making it clear that there isn’t just one right way for a brain to work, which really challenges that mindset.

As a teacher, this feels really important.  In schools, students are often judged based on pretty rigid expectations that don’t take those differences into account. Students shouldn’t have to fit into one box, and teaching shouldn’t be one-size-fits-all. A lot of the time, ableism shows up in systems that just aren’t built for different kinds of learners, and schools are definitely one of those systems. Instead of expecting students to adjust, we should be thinking about how the system can adjust to them. Being anti-ableist doesn’t mean ignoring challenges, it just means recognizing differences without judgment and making sure students have what they need to succeed.

On a more personal level, this really connects to me. Both of my parents are deaf, so I never grew up seeing deafness as something negative, it was just a different way of communicating. But I’ve definitely seen how other people treat them, like they’re lacking something or are less capable. My parents have had to adapt to systems their whole lives that weren’t designed for them. My dad went to a hearing school and always talked about how hard that was, and now I find myself wondering why there wasn’t more support for him. Why put someone in a learning environment where they can’t fully access what’s being taught?

That connects a lot to what neurodivergent students go through in schools now. Just like students with ADHD or autism can be misunderstood, deaf individuals are often placed in spaces that don’t meet their needs. On the other hand, my mom teaches at a school for the Deaf where everything is built to be inclusive, and you can really see the difference in how students succeed there. Seeing that has made me think a lot about my role as a teacher. It reminds me how important it is to create a classroom where different ways of learning and communicating are actually valued, not treated as a problem.

Keep ICE out of schools

This week, from this Rethinking Schools volume, I chose the articles "Now Is the Time to Defend Our Students: LA Educators vs. ICE" and "Recipes for Resistance." Both articles, along with the introduction, highlight the constant fear within school communities as well as the ways educators are stepping beyond traditional roles to protect and support their students. Unfortunately, immigration enforcement is increasingly shaping the daily lives of students, families, and educators. 

Safety within schools is the biggest concern. It is clear that immigration enforcement is no longer separate from students' educational experiences. Students (children!!!) are going to school everyday worried that something is going to happen to their families (or even themselves) and with emergency plans in their backpacks. Schools, which should be spaces of stability and learning, are instead becoming places where fear follows students into the classroom. In one of the articles it is mentioned how a student shared instructions from his mother about what to do if ICE takes her. This alone shows how childhoods are being disrupted by systems beyond students' control. No child should have to go to school worrying about being deported. 

Earlier this year there was a nation wide protest where high schoolers walked out of classrooms and marched in protest against ICE. This demonstrates how impactful ICE has been on their lives, showing that students are not only aware of immigration enforcement but are directly affected by it in ways that interrupt their education. When students feel the need to leave their classrooms (their safe spaces) to protest, it reflects how deeply this issue has entered their everyday lives. They are now carrying the emotional weight of uncertainty, fear for their families, and the possibility of sudden separation. 

A theme throughout this volume was the role educators have now taken as community protectors and organizers. In the Los Angeles article, teachers are not just focused on instruction, they are now organizing patrols, distributing "know your rights" materials, and monitoring their neighborhoods. Their responsibilities go beyond their classroom walls. There's many jobs where as soon as you exit the building your job is done. Working at a school is not one of them. What the teachers in LA did is a perfect example of how teaching does not only happen within schools. It also shows that learning cannot be separated from the realities students face outside of school. 

I think a misconception people may have is that because all the stories we hear about are in LA or Minneapolis, this is not happening in our own communities, but that's not true. Many educators in our community stay connected through WhatsApp groups to share updates about ICE sightings, and keep informational pamphlets available for families. In my own school, we have had emergency meetings regarding ICE activity and action steps to follow when there's a sighting, including how to communicate with families about what protocols to follow if ICE appeared nearby. This is a prime example of educators responding to the needs and fears within their communities. 

Something that I'm holding onto after reading this is the importance of community based resistance and collective care. Recipes for Resistance talks about creating spaces of joy where families can gather, share stories, and support one another. This creates moments of normalcy during a crisis, which sometimes is very needed. To me, this connects to the message in Bad Bunny's Super Bowl performance: even under fear or oppression, joy and community endure. In Hispanic culture, family and community are central pillars, and resilience comes from staying connected and supporting each other. 

Bottom line: teachers have a responsibility to address what students are experiencing beyond academics. Ignoring these realities does not make them disappear, it only isolates students further.

Affirmative Action

This week, I read “Isn’t that what the case is about, the discrimination against Asian Americans?” by Wayne Au. Au talks about how Asian Americans have been used as a “racial wedge” in political and legal battles over affirmative action. Basically, instead of protecting our communities, our identities are sometimes used to divide and maintain systems of inequality.

Affirmative action is meant to address past and present discrimination by giving historically marginalized groups more access to opportunities, like education and jobs. Not everyone starts at the same place, and these policies try to account for that. Without them, barriers that have existed for generations would keep minority groups from succeeding.

Some people say affirmative action hurts Asian students, but Au explains that this idea is misleading. Asian American identities are often used to support a colorblind system that reinforces racial hierarchies. We aren’t being protected; we’re being used to push a bigger political agenda.

Growing up as an Asian student in a mostly white, rural area, this reading resonated a lot with me. My racial identity developed in isolation. I didn’t have other Asian students to talk with or share experiences with, which made it harder to process moments of discrimination or exclusion. I felt pressure to fit in, to assimilate, and to succeed on the dominant culture’s terms. At the same time, there is this idea of meritocracy, the idea that success comes purely from talent and hard work, which also ignores the fact that not everyone starts in the same place, and unequal conditions shape the outcomes of effort and achievement.

Reading Au’s article made me think about how important community and shared language are in shaping identity. If I had grown up around more Asian peers, I might have felt less isolated and less pressured to navigate these expectations alone. Policies like affirmative action don’t just benefit individual students; they help create conditions where everyone can have a fair shot, even if the process isn’t perfect.

Let's also talk about the model minority, the idea that Asian Americans are naturally hardworking, smart, and successful. On the surface, it might seem like a compliment, but it’s actually harmful. It erases struggles and creates constant pressure to be perfect. Students who are struggling can easily go unnoticed because people assume we “always do well.” That pressure can cause stress, anxiety, and make it hard to ask for help when you really need it. 

Additionally, the model minority myth is often used to undermine the experiences of other marginalized groups by suggesting that systemic racism can be overcome simply through hard work. In reality, this narrative ignores structural inequalities and reinforces harmful divisions between communities of color. This part of the model minority myth is especially harmful because it gets used as a comparison tool. When people point to Asian American success as proof that “anyone can make it,” they are often implying that other marginalized groups (particularly Black and Latino communities) are responsible for their own struggles. This shifts the focus away from systemic issues like unequal school funding, housing segregation, employment discrimination, and mass incarceration, and instead places blame on individuals or cultures. It also ignores the very different historical and social contexts that shape each group’s experiences. For example, policies like immigration laws, and access to generational wealth have not impacted all communities in the same way. By flattening these differences, the model minority myth erases the role of structural racism and makes inequality seem like a result of effort rather than opportunity.

On top of that, this narrative creates tension between communities of color by positioning one group as a “success story” and others as “failures.” This weakens solidarity and makes it harder for groups to come together to challenge the systems that affect them all. Instead of recognizing shared struggles and advocating for systemic change, the myth encourages division, comparison, and competition. Ultimately, protecting the very inequalities it claims to disprove.

Affirmative action, on the other hand, is actually a positive thing. It helps level the playing field and creates opportunities for students who might otherwise face barriers. It encourages schools and workplaces to value diversity, not just in numbers, but in perspectives and experiences. For students like me, it means that communities can feel seen and included, and everyone has the chance to learn from each other. Affirmative action isn’t about giving anyone an unfair advantage; it’s about creating fairness where inequality has existed for a long time.

Teach Out Project

 CHOOSE A TEXT:

One text that has really stayed with me is the Bad Bunny Super Bowl halftime show, along with the Facebook post we analyzed in class. I had a lot of strong feelings engaging with both, especially because they highlight themes connected to Puerto Rican identity and political realities. The Facebook post does a very good job breaking down the performance, explaining symbols, and cultural references that someone unfamiliar with Puerto Rico or who does not speak Spanish might completely miss. I think a lot of meaning can exist beneath the surface of something that might seem like just entertainment, and it is very important to have context in order to fully understand it. 

Another text that connects to this theme is Rethinking Schools on ICE. I have yet to complete the reading, but I am interested in how it will deepen my understanding of issues affecting my community. Based on the quick skim I did on the reading, it talks about how fear of ICE can directly impact students' sense of safety and their ability to learn. I think reading this alongside Bad Bunny's performance will be especially meaningful because both texts, in different ways, highlight the lived experiences and struggles of the Hispanic community. 

WHO DO YOU WANT TO SHARE IT WITH?

As of right now, I want to share these texts with both my brother and my best friend because they each bring different perspectives that would make the conversation deepen in meaningful ways. 

My brother is both Hispanic and Asian. He doesn't have a deep interest in anything political related beyond the many rants I have when talking to him. However, being an immigrant, I think his personal identity and lived experiences would make his perspective especially valuable. The first texts (Bad Bunny's performance and the Facebook post) would resonate with him culturally. However, I am more curious to see his reaction to the second text (Rethinking Schools on ICE) because he is not in the field of education. 

My best friend is an English teacher at a public high school in Providence. She is Asian and deeply connected to the Hispanic community. Because of her role as an educator, I think she would engage with both texts more pedagogically, meaning thinking about how these issues show up in her classroom. 

WHAT FORMAT MIGHT WORK FOR YOU?

The format that would work best for me in an individual interview. I would want to conduct two separate interviews and then compare their responses. I think this approach would allow each person to share their thoughts openly without being influenced by the others.

Queer Identities and Hispanic Culture

I had many feelings while reading Queering Our Schools. Recently, my school hosted an event for prospective parents and families interested in applying. The event included a student panel where families could ask students about their experiences, both the positives and the challenges of attending the school.

However, the conversation quickly shifted in a direction that was uncomfortable and upsetting. Instead of asking about academics, community, or student life, several parents began asking questions about how the school addresses LGBTQ+ topics and whether students are “exposed” to them. Some parents complained about their children’s current schools, saying teachers had LGBTQ+ flags in their classrooms or that students were reading books about families with two moms.

Sitting there and listening to those comments created a heavy, unsettling feeling. It was painful to watch our students be exposed to that kind of hostility and judgment. What should have been a welcoming space for conversation about education and community instead became a place where LGBTQ+ identities were framed as something controversial or inappropriate.

This moment felt especially jarring because my school prides itself on having a diverse staff and building an inclusive environment. Diversity among educators and students is something the school celebrates as a strength. Hearing parents react so negatively to the mere presence of LGBTQ+ representation made me think about how much work still needs to be done to ensure that schools remain spaces where all identities are respected and affirmed.

During undergrad, I researched the connection between homophobia and Hispanic culture. Being Cuban and queer, this was something I felt personally connected to and wanted to explore more deeply. Why do some cultures seem more open to queer people than others? 

One factor that often comes up in discussions of Hispanic culture is the influence of traditional gender roles, particularly the concepts of machismo and marianismo. Machismo emphasizes ideals of masculinity such as strength, dominance, and heterosexual identity, while marianismo encourages women to embody purity, self-sacrifice, and devotion to family. These cultural expectations can create rigid ideas about what it means to be a “proper” man or woman. Because masculinity is often closely tied to heterosexuality, men who do not conform to these expectations may face stigma or pressure to hide their identities. These strict gender norms can make it difficult for LGBTQ+ individuals to feel accepted within their communities.

Religion is another important factor that intersects with these cultural expectations. Many Hispanic communities have strong roots in Catholicism or other Christian traditions, which historically emphasize traditional views of marriage, gender roles, and sexuality. Religious teachings that define marriage as a union between a man and a woman can reinforce the same gender norms seen in machismo and marianismo. Because religion is often deeply connected to family life and cultural identity, these beliefs can shape how families respond to LGBTQ+ identities. In some cases, queer individuals may feel pressure to conform to religious and cultural expectations in order to maintain family harmony.

As a teacher in Rhode Island, where many schools serve large Hispanic communities, it is important to understand these cultural influences and how they shape students’ perspectives. At the same time, we have a responsibility to challenge harmful attitudes without attacking students’ cultural or religious beliefs. One way to do this is by creating classrooms where different identities and experiences are normalized and respected. Students should see queer identities represented as a normal part of society rather than something hidden or taboo, which can help reduce stigma. Schools should also establish clear norms about respect and language. When harmful language or slurs are used, teachers should address them directly and explain why that language is harmful (yay RIDE and public school policies for at least addressing this).

Within Hispanic communities specifically, it can also be powerful to have conversations about gender roles, stereotypes, and identity. These discussions can help students think critically about how ideas like rigid masculinity or traditional expectations can limit people and shape how others are treated. By encouraging empathy and reflection, teachers can help students question these norms while still respecting the importance of culture and family in their lives.

Ultimately, Queering Our Schools highlights the responsibility educators have in shaping school environments where all students feel safe, visible, and valued. As teachers, we cannot control every belief students or families bring with them, but we can control the culture of our classrooms. For many students, school may be the first place where they see their identities affirmed, and that affirmation can make a lasting difference in their sense of belonging and self-worth.

If you want to read more about how machismo and marianismo in Latin youth: How L.A.’s young, queer Latinos are redefining gender roles

Other People's Children

 In Other People's Children: Cultural Conflict in the Classroom, Lisa Delpit argues that schools operate within a “culture of power” shaped largely by white, middle-class norms. Because of this, students of color and working-class students who are not already familiar with these expectations often enter school at a disadvantage. According to Delpit, teachers must acknowledge these power dynamics and explicitly teach the rules of the dominant culture while also respecting and valuing students’ own cultural backgrounds.

What struck me most about Delpit’s argument is her emphasis on explicit instruction. I strongly believe that student-centered learning and independence are important in the classroom. However, Delpit argues that many teachers avoid direct instruction in the name of empowerment. The problem with this approach is that students who are already familiar with the dominant culture can navigate ambiguity and figure things out on their own. Students who are not familiar with those expectations cannot. When teachers refuse to explicitly teach the “rules,” they may actually be reinforcing inequality rather than dismantling it.

This idea made me reflect deeply. I do not think Delpit is arguing against student agency. Instead, she is arguing that agency requires access. Students cannot choose how to navigate a system if no one has ever clearly explained how it works. If students are going to critique systems of power, they first have to understand how to function within them. To me, that does not feel like assimilation; it feels like preparation.

Thinking back to our class discussion about the reading, we talked about how schools subtly showcase these rules. One example Tom shared was about cafeterias, what our students eat, and even how they eat it. That conversation made me reflect on when I first moved to the United States and was unfamiliar with the school system. The only idea I had of American schools came from television, which was mostly High School Musical.

Not knowing the rules made me feel powerless. I did not know that we had to stand for the Pledge of Allegiance every day. I did not understand how the lunch system worked, or that students transitioned from one class to another throughout the day. There were many aspects of American schools that I simply did not know. But once I learned those rules, I gained a sense of power and confidence in navigating the system.

A few years later, when my younger brother moved here, I explained these rules to him explicitly. Because he had that guidance, he was able to navigate the system much more easily. That experience made Delpit’s argument feel very real to me.

Ultimately, this reading pushed me to reconsider what equity actually looks like in education. Equity is not just about creating welcoming classrooms or encouraging student voice. It is also about making sure every student has access to the codes, language, and expectations that often gatekeep opportunity. Ignoring power does not erase it. Teaching students how to navigate it might.

I used AI to fix grammar and make my ideas flow more easily.

Asset based models for the win

In Shifting the Paradigm from Deficit-Oriented Schools to Asset-Based Models, the authors argue that schools need to shift from a deficit-oriented model to an asset-based model. A deficit-oriented model focuses on students’ weaknesses and misbehavior, whereas an asset-based model builds on students’ strengths, relationships, and potential.

The first quote that stood out to me was, “When schools focus solely on at-risk behaviors exhibited by students, they tend to work reactively rather than proactively.” This quote clearly sets up the central problem. When schools only respond to misbehavior or low performance, they are constantly putting out fires instead of building systems that prevent problems. This is very obvious when students are labeled as “behavior students.” Sometimes the only time the student gets attention is when they are talking out of turn, refusing work, or off task. In my first year teaching, I spent a lot of my energy correcting behavior (moving seats, giving warnings, or writing referrals). But students were not improving because I was only responding after problems happened. When I started checking in during independent work and giving the students a small classroom responsibility (like collecting papers), their behavior improved. Instead of reacting to the problem, I was preventing it by making students feel noticed and important.

The second quote is, “They have proven repeatedly that the more assets a student possesses, the more thriving behaviors the student showcases and the less likely that student will exhibit risky behaviors.” I had a student who struggled with writing, and because of this he would become highly frustrated and opt out of doing work. I had seen many teachers label him as a “problem student” and give him a referral every time he didn’t participate. I started letting him verbally explain his thinking during exit tickets and called on him when I knew he had the correct answer. Over time, I noticed he participated more and even attempted writing because he felt successful first.

I think sometimes we forget that we are dealing with children. We hear other teachers talk about certain students they’ve had in the past and how they behaved in their classes, and I think sometimes that impacts how we act toward them before we even get to know them ourselves. We come in with the pre-assumption that they are “bad students,” when in reality many of them are carrying frustration, insecurity, or past school experiences where they felt unsuccessful. This leads me to the last quote: “If we surround young people with respect and love… give them chances to make a difference… we’re metaphorically letting them jump into our arms.” The way we think about students is often the way they begin to think about themselves. Many of my students come in believing they are bad at math or writing because they have struggled before or have heard that message repeatedly. When a student hears year after year that they are “low,” “behind,” or “lazy,” they eventually internalize it and stop trying because failure feels expected.

This also connects to racism in education because deficit thinking does not affect all students equally. Students of color, multilingual learners, and students from low-income communities are more often labeled as behavior problems or low performers before teachers fully understand their abilities. Instead of questioning instruction, curriculum access, or language barriers, the system can place responsibility on the student.

Those expectations influence classroom interactions such as who gets called on, who receives encouragement, and who is disciplined more quickly. This is also where racism can appear in subtle ways inside a classroom. Because of implicit bias and long-standing stereotypes in education, students of color (especially Black and Latino students) are more likely to be perceived as disruptive, less capable, or less academically motivated even when their behavior or performance is similar to their peers. A teacher may unconsciously give more thinking time, patience, and academic challenge to students they assume are high achieving, while correcting or redirecting other students more quickly. As a result, some students consistently receive opportunities to participate and grow, while others receive more surveillance and discipline. Over time, these patterns create racial disparities in both learning and behavior consequences. The same action, such as talking out of turn, can be interpreted as enthusiasm in one student but defiance in another. When students repeatedly experience lower expectations, fewer chances to contribute, and harsher discipline, they begin to disengage because school feels unfair and unwelcoming (not a place where they can succeed). In this way, deficit thinking does not just affect individual students, it can reproduce systemic racism in everyday classroom decisions. An asset-based approach helps interrupt this by pushing teachers to question their assumptions, recognize students’ cultural and linguistic strengths, and intentionally provide equal opportunities for participation, support, and trust.

In my classroom, this looks like celebrating small growth, allowing redo opportunities, and acknowledging effort just as much as correctness. I try to point out what a student did well before addressing mistakes so they see themselves as capable learners. I have noticed that when students feel respected and safe, they are more willing to ask questions, attempt challenging problems, and admit confusion. The academic risk-taking comes after the relationship is built. Students will only push themselves when they trust that mistakes will not lead to embarrassment or punishment. By consistently showing belief in them, we are not only improving their performance in class, but also helping them develop a more positive identity as learners.