“You should give me your number in case you get lost.” I stifled a laugh. You could practically see the ocean from where we were standing. This was my future husband, Paul, speaking to me. We met while attending grad school at UCSB. We were headed to a beach day put on by some of our classmates in our teaching program. I knew what he was playing at, but I found him funny, friendly, and attractive so I played along. Needless to say we hit it off. What attracted me most about him was how interesting and different he was from myself. He grew up near the ocean in San Diego, I grew up inland in the agricultural town of Salinas. In high school he set swim records, was captain of the water polo team, and fished, surfed, and dove in his free time. In high school I was not a starter on my volleyball team, barely received play time on my soccer team, and was last on the lineup of my tennis team. He spent a year in Italy, taught for two years in Korea, and traveled around to more places than I can remember. The last trip I had taken was to Catalina Island the summer after I graduated highschool and before that to Mexico when I was five.
Regardless of all our differences, I wasn’t really intimidated. I would like to say that it was due to my great self-esteem and confidence, but it was actually due to how inclusive he was about all his experiences and interests. He shared them not as a means to show off all that he has done or accomplished, but in hopes to be able to find topics of conversation about things that I was curious or interested in as well. And interested and curious I was, which is how I found myself in the middle of the ocean with little to no swim experience.
I had mentioned to him that I could swim, and I wanted to get to know this underwater world he had told me so much about. What I didn’t realize at the time was that being able to get from one end of the pool to the other, by any means necessary without drowning, did not equate to swimming. Cut to me “swimming” in a literal circle while he tried to find a way to break the news that I didn’t know how to swim. As he swam us back to shore, while pulling me along on the boogie board he had brought in case we needed a break, I realized that I was interested in the ocean and wanted to form a hobby that we could enjoy together. I needed to learn how to swim.
So, when I moved to Monterey after grad school, one of the first things I did was sign up for a beginners swim class. Yes, it was humbling to learn along with children who were half my age or younger, but I knew and reminded myself that this was a small stepping stone on my journey to become a great swimmer. After learning the basics, I joined an endurance swim class; this is where I really became a swimmer. My coach was this amazing triathlete and wonderful teacher who met me at my level and worked to bring me up to her level. She had me work on rotating my hips, carving out water, breathing, kicking, all the basics, and slowly but surely I became indistinguishable from the other swimmers in my class that had been swimming for years. And, of course, there she was acknowledging my accomplishments and cheering me on along the way.
Learning to swim was definitely intimidating at first, but everything turned out so well. It made me crave other new experiences. What could I do next? Well, Paul made traveling sound amazing so I wanted to experience it for myself. Also, I had a career now, so I felt like I had the funds to delve into this new interest. Fall break was coming up in a couple of months so I looked into tickets, recruited my best friend, and began planning a trip to Spain. Do I need to mention that we had a blast or could that just go unsaid? Either way, we had a blast. The food: jamon Iberico, churros con chocolate, and paella was all to die for. The people we met: locals, fellow travelers, truly enriched our trip. The architecture we saw: the Sagrada Familia, Parc Guell, the gothic quarter, were breathtaking. To say I had the best time would be an understatement and I added another interest to my growing list: traveling.
These interests, among others, did not only add to my life, but allowed me to form connections with people. I had things to share in conversation, things that people could ask me questions about, or share commanilites with. One of my struggles in adulthood, one that I feel many people have, was making new friends. While I lived in Monterey, making friends was nearly impossible. Monterey consisted of mainly older retired people and, with finding my footing in a new job, hunting for friends my age proved to be nearly impossible. Apart from a couple of work friends that were… characters, to put it kindly, I mostly hung out with my roommate. I knew this needed to change when I moved to San Diego. It was the place that I wanted to make home and that would only be possible if I felt like I had a strong support system and community. So, once again, I relied on my interests. If having common interests allowed me to find my future husband, I figured it would also help me make lasting friendships.
I enjoyed running so I joined the North Park Women’s Run Club. In this club I met Kirsten, who would eventually become one of my bridesmaids and whose husband would become fast friends with mine over the shared interest of ocean fishing. I also met Tori, who I traveled with a couple of times and even though she ended up moving back to Nashville, I am still thankful for the friendship we shared. At my new site, I made sure to put myself and my interests out there. This is how I met Kim, who, like me, enjoys hiking and good food. To this day, she is one of my best hiking partners and during our hikes we make sure to share any new restaurants we’ve tried. I also met Megan through our love of traveling in Baja and Mexico in general. So far we have about 3 Baja trips together under our belt.
I think back to the origin of these interests and they begin with inclusivity. Paul not only introduced me to these interests but made space for me so that I too can participate in them and encouraged me to branch out and discover some of my own. The idea of making spaces for others is one that I model in my classroom. I know that for many of my students, it may be the first time they take on an accelerated or advanced level class. Keeping this in mind, early on in the school year, I let my students know that I want them to feel comfortable and welcomed. I promote this in a way similar to how Paul invited me into his own space. I invite and encourage students to be active participants in my classroom, foster relationships by giving my students the opportunity to get to know me and in turn encourage them to allow me to get to know them, and make myself aware of their ability levels in order to offer the support they need to participate. I aim to make my class interesting to them to increase their engagement and when it comes to trying something new and out of their comfort zone, I provide the proper scaffolds to ensure their success.
We began this past school year with Emily Dickinson’s “I’m Nobody! Who are you?”, not solely because I believed it was of literary merit, but because it was the beginning of the school year and I was teaching a class of 10th graders, the majority of whom were still figuring out their identities and how they were going to find their own place in my classroom, let alone in our massive student body. In the poem, Dickinson shares how she prefers a life lived under the radar and her belief that being in the spotlight is overrated. Because this message was applicable to their current lives, they became very interested. They were able to form strong opinions on the topic and defend those opinions while engaging in a discussion about the pros and cons of being “somebody”.
Were they able to analyze the poem? Yes. Were they able to cite textual evidence and refer to the poem in order to defend their positions while participating in the discussion? Yes. Could they have practiced these two skills if I had chosen a different, less applicable poem? Probably, but their engagement wouldn’t have been the same, their discussion wouldn’t have been as passionate, and their interest would have been harder to achieve, if it could have been achieved at all. Like it was done for me, I created a space for my students in my classroom by bringing in something that pertained to them. The task was challenging, but because I was aware of their ability levels, I was able to provide the proper support in order to ensure their success. And because they did succeed and were able to not only understand the poem and engage in a discussion, it gave them the confidence to know that they did belong in my classroom and therefore were willing to try and take on the next challenge.
Thinking back on my own journey with pursuing new interests and taking on new challenges, I am proud at how far I’ve come. I now confidently swim long distances in the ocean. I enjoy snorkeling with my husband on days with good visibility, we dive for lobsters in the winter, and spearfish in the summer. We’ve traveled to places such as Thailand, Denmark and Nicaragua to name a few, and I’ve learned so much about myself, and my husband, along the way. While I will never give him credit for all the hard work and time I put in to pursue these new hobbies, I do acknowledge and am forever grateful that he introduced them to me in a way to invite me into them and not to set himself apart from me. I now aim to continue this tradition. When I share how I enjoy spending time in the ocean and traveling in my “About Me” presentation at the beginning of the school year, tell my students to feel free to ask me any questions if they are interested as well. I do this not only in hopes of finding ways I can relate to them beyond the classroom, but also in hopes to get them interested in something that I find great value in. And when I am presenting new academic challenges to my students, I bring in topics that are of interest to them to make them more willing to try them. And if they are struggling, I support them and make sure to cheer them on along the way. What I hope they take away from my class, along with mastery of the subject matter, is the belief that no matter the stage in their life, they should never limit themselves from trying new things or taking on new challenges so that they too can look back and be proud at how far they have come.
Credits:
Created with images by Rob Wilkinson - "clear sky and calm sea or ocean water surface background" • FS-Stock - "happy children kids group at swimming pool class learning to swim" • 135pixels - "Sagrada Familia in Barcelona, Spain"