There is no change without Hope

Editor's Note: This piece was submitted by a current ELA/Social Studies teacher who wishes to remain anonymous. Understanding the real possibility of reprisal at this moment, we honor the author's story as we honor their request for anonymity.

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It might be hard to admit sometimes but, I love my country, despite the lies I was fed growing up and what I know about it today. It is that love for my country that compels me to speak so critically to save it from the looming threats against it. Threats against the things I hold most dear in this country; public education and the safety and well-being of our kids. I am one of the (seemingly few) men of color who has devoted his life to improving the state of public education in this country. I cannot begin to pay back all that education has given me and my family. It has given me the opportunities to better myself and the hope that I can do anything I set my mind to. I know I am not alone in this sentiment. We must preserve its power in changing the lives of young folk, in the same way it has changed mine. Let me tell you how public education changed my life as the child of an immigrant family. In telling it I hope you can feel the hope I have in making change and join in the movement of making it real.

I was raised to be grateful for what I had because of the work my family did for me to live my life here. When my Grandparents came to this country from Mexico seeking to make a better life for their children a long time ago, they were grateful to have a shot at the American Dream.  He was able to buy a house and afford to put some of his children through college with the income from his blue-collar job. He loved the blessings this country has afforded him. America was always framed to me as a land of opportunity, which my family seized for themselves. Growing up, it wasn’t hard to notice that I wasn’t the only person being sold this positive image of America.

Embedded in this dark history, I also saw a light shining through the stories of people who, through tireless work and sacrifice, enacted change in our society. Proof of hope we are moving forward. The stories of civil rights leaders and everyday hardworking people banding together demanding equality and their rightful seat at the table of brotherhood and prosperity.

I met a lot of kids who were told the same things once I started public school in California. It was a common story told to us as 1st and 2nd generation of Americans in our families. This background gave us an awareness of who we are, where our families come from, and the work expected of us. We knew how important school was in shaping our future, at least I heard it a lot. My Dad always imagined me going to college and becoming a lawyer. Since he didn’t do well in school, he was happy to see I was a bright little brown kid. As heavy as my family’s hopes felt at times, I carried them willingly because of the love I had for them and my home. As a child, I believed in the story that was told to me about the American Dream and my power to reach it. “All you need is hard work and anything is within your reach in this country, regardless of where you started.”

I would begin to awaken from this dream as soon as I went to school and learned about this country’s history and its actions against people of color. These truths formed cracks in the image of America my family painted for me. Learning the dark truths in this nation’s history of systemic violence; about civil rights, slavery, white supremacy, anti-immigrant sentiment, and Indigenous genocide. This past wasn’t that long ago since we could feel some systemic structures of violence still at play today, making it hard for a person of color to break out of this nightmare our government has set up for people of color. However, embedded in this dark history, I also saw a light shining through the stories of people who, through tireless work and sacrifice, enacted change in our society. Proof of hope we are moving forward. The stories of civil rights leaders and everyday hardworking people banding together demanding equality and their rightful seat at the table of brotherhood and prosperity.

While the pains of history were hard to stomach, seeing how far we had come at this point fueled my hope to continue that progress. I learned that this country can change, it was made to change. To most Americans, this dark history was in the past. After all, I was told racism was over once Obama stepped into the White House. But I knew this wasn’t true, and there was more work to be done. I made it my mission to continue this push for progress, to make this country more equitable and fair for every marginalized group. As disgusted as I was to learn our history, it didn’t snuff out my hope to move past it. We cannot change the past, but we can make our future. I was told the path towards change starts with a good education. The first step towards progress for me was to get into a good college.

However, breaking systemic chains is harder than I could’ve imagined. By the time I was in high school, I started to struggle academically and I didn’t know what to do. My parents both worked full-time and never went to college, so they couldn’t help me. What helped me believe a path toward college was possible and keep my embers lit was the support from a couple of my teachers. These people changed my life. It was their labor, guidance, patience, and love for their students that helped me believe in my future and find the strength to move when my legs began to buckle. From their selfless actions, I learned what it meant to truly show love and be a good person. Because of their impact on me, I decided to become a teacher and share this hope my teachers gave me with other kids who struggled like I did. In doing so, I felt like I was paying back the hope I was given. To work every day and help spread hope to as many students as I can.

At work, I can feel the weight of this hatred...I feel it at my school as I take on the pain of my students’ fears. I see it in their eyes every day, fear of their existence being targeted for who they love and identify as, fear of people attacking them in public, fear of losing their family and home by being deported by ICE.

It was this hope for change that carried me through college. This journey would take me from my local community college in California to the Ivies in New England. It was a rough decade between my classes and my full-time work schedule which were required for me to afford it all. I did what I was told to do, taking out loans, applying for scholarships, and working holidays and weekends. I believed in the transformative powers of education, but after college, I gained the experience and wisdom to feel the truth of those words. It wasn’t just insight I gained from my college years, I also gained the skills and capacity to enact the changes I dreamed of for my community, one classroom interaction at a time. I was eager to make the change, no, be the change I was told was possible. I did everything that was expected of me.

But over those 10 years, the true face of this country revealed itself for all to see. On the news, I watched George Zimmerman walk free after he stalked and murdered Trayvon Martin, an unarmed black teen for walking around his neighborhood in his hoodie who would’ve turned 30 this year. I watched Donald Trump call people who come over from Mexico rapists and criminals. I relived the same pain over and over again, in utter despair, as schools became a common stage for mass shootings while our politicians could only offer thoughts and prayers. It felt like decades’ worth of progress, made from the struggle and sacrifice of those before us, was being undone. Racism, xenophobia, misogyny, homophobia, transphobia, and all forms of discrimination were starting to be platformed back in society and are currently being institutionalized. Now that the face of this hatred has been elected into our federal government, and has turned against immigrants, people of color, the LGBTQ community, the working class, and anyone who doesn’t live the way they deem to be right.

I will teach real history. I will celebrate diversity. I will welcome and love every student regardless of any of the labels they were made to feel bad for.

The Trump administration has already started its fight against the Department of Education and other programs that benefit the working class. That fight against education, outlined in Project 2025, includes plans to eliminate the Title 1 program, which will pull federal funding from schools with a high percentage of low-income and students of color. School was the place that changed my life and the lives of my entire family. The place where hungry kids can eat. The place where kids who struggle are met with positivity and hope. The place where lonely kids connect with their community and build lasting relationships. The place where everyone is given the tools to carve their journeys of actualization and happiness. Now is the time to stand to defend the Department of Education and the privatization of our government by the wealthy class.

But that isn’t the only change needed at this point. Some other things we can work towards include overturning Citizens United v FEC to weaken the power of corporations to meddle in our elections. The government continues to put the profits of their wealthy donors over the people and that is just a step in the direction to systemically weaken their power. We need massive reforms to reign in politician’s ability to hold and trade stocks and stop abusing insider information for profit. We need to stop the ICE detentions and deportations and finally face the issue of our collective silent exploitation of undocumented folk that everyone knows takes place. A lot needs to happen and these suggestions don’t begin to address everything, but they are steps we can take to systemically enact some positive change. But the number one priority for us as working-class Americans is to stop the changes this current administration is trying to enact in our country and push back against the Project 2025 agenda. I recommend looking in your area for organizations and communities who are already on the front lines of resistance and lend any aid you can.

At work, I can feel the weight of this hatred being implemented. I feel it at my school as I take on the pain of my students’ fears. I see it in their eyes every day, fear of their existence being targeted for who they love and identify as, fear of people attacking them in public, fear of losing their family and home by being deported by ICE. The weight of their pain became heavier than the hopes I try to instill and it scares me that their fears have grounding. I struggle sometimes to help them find the hope that I dedicated my life to building in people. Hope was the only thing keeping me going at times to reach the point I am at now in life.

We all cannot silently stand by as our government strips the positive things our government does for the people to pay for corporate tax cuts. There is strength in our collective power to stop things from getting worse. This is why I refuse to comply with any of this administration’s wishes. I will teach real history. I will celebrate diversity. I will welcome and love every student regardless of any of the labels they were made to feel bad for. I refuse to silently watch as our country descends into fascism. I realize now that I was naive to believe in the American Dream, but I refuse to give up on the hope it instilled in me. The place that planted the seed of hope in me, which I refuse to let wither. I refuse to let it slowly fade away like the voices of those who have been forever silenced by the violence of these institutions.