Hello friends and family! (WARNING: this message will be lengthy, but I hope you find it with love). 

As many of you know, I was in Phoenix, AZ this past month roasting, I mean... teaching. During those 5 weeks, I taught English Language Arts to a group of driven and joyful 1st graders. In teaching, I experienced something that I would like to share with you all. But first, here is one key detail to note-- I joined Teach For America and decided to be a teacher for one of many reasons: I want to be the teacher I never had growing up. Not to disregard my brilliant educators who pushed me and supported me through the thick and the thin, in my elementary and middle school years, I never had a teacher who looked like me, who shared the same background, culture, and experiences. I never saw someone who looked like me in a leadership position. I never had a role model growing up who I could relate to. I want to have the opportunity of being that person to someone. 

Given that small detail, on the first day of school I walked into my classroom with a name tag that read Ms. Govea and my colorful huaraches. With a smile I greeted my students and immediately saw them noticing me, my name, my skin, and my huaraches. On the second day of school, something happened that verified my reasons for doing this and pursuing this career in education. There was a student who asked for my help in reading a sentence and I knelt down to help them. As I had one hand placed on the table and the other tracing the words in the sentence, I felt something touch my hand on the side. I looked over and another student had gently placed her hand on top of mine and was directly looking at it. She ran her fingers along my hand and simply stared. Her eyes were wide open yet tender in her stare. At that moment something moved in me and I placed my other hand on top of hers. She looked at me, smiled and then continued with her work. In that moment, I couldn't help but feel warmth as I knew I had made some small impact on her life simply by being there, a Mexican immigrant who knew not a single word in English and was now teaching the language. 

Being a teacher in the US is dreaming of changing the world and receiving the keys to your own office but once opening it, you see nothing but a desk and a chair. There is not another job in this country that expects so much from you yet offers little to nothing. So, I write this encouraging you to invest in not myself, not my classroom, but my students, their education and their communities. As a great friend loves to say, "There is nothing more dangerous than a free-thinking educated Hispanic/Latino – a true minority within a minority! Be fearless! Be brave and continue the good fight!"

Gracias! Sí se puede!