Nobody Can Turn Me Around

"Have a great, four-day weekend, Danielle" I wished one of my kinder students as I dropped them off for aftercare. 
"I know what you are going to do this weekend, Maestra!" she screamed excitedly, "Watch T.V.!"
"No, no..." I stammered.
"And EAT!" she exclaimed.

Oh no, Danielle.  You think so little of me. I finished my report cards around 10:30 that evening, packed some random shit in a bag and flew out the next morning for my long weekend.

Ninety miles from Cuba.

I felt a little bleary eyed on Tuesday, but not as bad as previous trips.  I went to work.  And worked.  After, I went to a meeting about the Race to the Top money my school got and how I can get a piece of that action.  I actually wanted a piece of it, but not necessarily financially.  I remember my first years of teaching.  They were hell.  And I don't want anyone else to go through that.  I am experienced.  I have taught all grade levels - high school, elementary school, adults, here, Spain, Mexico, wherever.  And few helped me.  I want to help.  Folks ought to be good teachers. And it is hard walking into those schools.   And I know a lot about that.  It's about mentor-ship.  And that is what Race to the Top is about. 

I went to the meeting.  I was surprised how awkward I felt walking in.  I sensed the 'Why is she here?' vibe.  The 'She's not a real teacher, just Spanish' feeling.   Maybe I am imagining things.  Or maybe not.   It bothers me though.  You can tell, can't you?

I can't wear my resume stapled to my chest.  I have never felt like I had to.  Until here.

"Ain't gonna let nobody, turn me round!" the kids sang.  I sang too.  Nobody gonna turn me around.  But lately, everything is turning me around.  I may have lost the light.  The light I want to shine.  

"Sherman, do you mind if I take your photo?" I asked mister kinder lovely.
"No problem.  These are my antlers." he informed me, while pulling his purple and red feathered mask onto his face and hissing.

"Thanks!" I exclaimed, because I love him and he looked awesome.

Curley squatted down quickly, stroked my shoe and kissed it.

"Me too!  Me picture too!" Emily exclaimed, pulling her Carnaval mask on.  The feather she had placed in the middle stood erect.  She turned for a profile shot, tilting her chin upward, a large smile on her face, that face that used to be so expressionless.

Oh lovely.  I was only waiting for you to ask.