Washington D.C.
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I spent the last few days in Washington DC with 22 of my 8th graders. I’ve been in the city before, but it’s always different experiencing a place with kids, and with people who’ve never been before. The strongest memory was visiting the MLK Jr. Memorial. Being at there will always feel special. But yesterday, standing there with my students, almost all of whom are people of color, this place felt sacred. We can argue all day about how far this nation has come in regards to race, but I plant myself firmly in the camp that we still have a painfully long way to go. My kids deserve more. They are incredible and valuable and I’ve learned more from them than I did in all my years of my own learning. They teach me daily about the fullness and vibrance of life, about what it means to be human, about how celebration and heartbreak can live in the same moment. Standing in front of an icon who changed the course of a nation, in the tension of knowing we haven’t become what he dreamt of, with my arms around these students I love so dearly - that is an honor and memory I’ll cherish always.
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