Navigating New Beginnings: Reflections on Teaching and Personal Growth in Jackson Heights

Discover a teacher's reflections on personal growth and career transitions, inspired by deep connections with students in Jackson Heights.

"A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step" — Lao Tzu

Jackson Heights in Queens is Aglow with May Flowers

On Leaving

Jason, whom we'll call by that name, arrived in the classroom accompanied by Corey, also a pseudonym. They exclaimed, "Mr. Roselli, are you leaving? You're my favorite teacher!" Indeed, there is a departure, but the term "leaving" should be viewed more as moving forward. The accuracy of being their favorite teacher might be debatable, yet what truly resonated in that moment was their genuine concern. Their warmth and optimistic demeanor were unexpectedly touching, especially since adolescent boys often oscillate between being reserved and taciturn or loud and brash. This encounter was a proud one, as it reflected a significant connection made.

Existential Moment

I find myself in a place in life that I haven't experienced in a long time. I'm just wrapping up eight years of teaching at my current school in the Jackson Heights neighborhood of Queens, where I've had the honor and pleasure of working with a host of wonderful, curious students. I've gotten to know and work with these students over the years. The current seniors I'm teaching this year have been my students since they were in fifth grade. I taught some of them a research class in sixth grade, an ethics class in middle school, and English in 10th grade. Some I also taught as their history and humanities teacher in 11th grade, and now they're seniors. 

I find myself at a precipice because I am leaving my current school to venture out into a different world. Just like the phoenix, I am ready to rise from the ashes in a new place. This transition has prompted me to reflect on who I am and where I am in life. I am very proud of the work I have done, not only in the past eight years at my current job but also over my entire 13-year career teaching secondary education, covering grades 5 through 12. Just last year, I finally received my professional teaching certification in New York State, which is now part of my official records.

From One Place to Another

I find it fascinating to consider what teaching truly involves. We plant our feet in a specific place, within a specific community. And Oh! The places we go. Whether it is the New Orleans where I grew up, or the many visits I have made to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, I am a sojourner. I've had the privilege of traveling to China with students and teachers and visiting other students in Beijing, Suzhou, Shanghai, and Xi'an. This past February, I traveled with 51 students and 10 teachers to London and Paris. And what about the journey of writing, of reading? I sometimes say you really don't need to leave a place to visit the world. Open a book. Think about it. Since 2017, I have created over 270 unique educational resources, sourced from the public domain, the New York Public Library’s digital collections, and various humanities-based topics, ranging from Socrates to Angela Davis. I can't be done yet, no m'am!

Teaching Humanities, adolescents are exposed to different ideas. And that is an exciting space to carve out in a classroom. While I definitely have my own opinions, and beliefs, and I inhabit the world in a certain way, I wonder how distanced from myself I need to be as an educator to allow my students to begin thinking independently and not merely parroting my ideas (or someone else's). Today, someone asked me about the concern that teachers might indoctrinate their students, which made me think about how we barely have time for that in the classroom. I can be completely myself, yet also create a space for dissenting opinions, which I appreciate as long as we adhere to basic human integrity principles and aim to share rather than harm. I always start my humanities classes with this principle: We state our own opinions and ideas; we do not attack others’. For example, instead of saying, "Deborah thinks capital punishment is illegal, and she’s stupid for thinking so," we say, "I believe capital punishment should be legal in the United States." We take ownership of our ideas, and this is how I conduct discussions in my classroom. 

Reflecting on Mid-Life

Approaching middle age-I'll be 45 in December-I feel confident yet exhausted, and curious about what's next. Maybe that curiosity is what's pushing me to explore a new direction. If Dante, in his classic epic, can find himself guided to new places, where he is "mid-life in his journey," then so can I?

Right? Listen! 

I saw Jason and Corey again; this time, it was during lunch, where 1 sat with two very quiet, amazing teachers and about thirty loud teenagers. They had some stories to tell me-like, 'Remember that time you taught an entire lesson dressed up as Doctor Who?' or, 'When we were being rowdy, so you climbed on the table in your classroom to get our attention?' Yes, those anecdotes are most likely true. By nature, I am an ephemeral person; not much of what I do is permanent. Often feeling like a visitor in my own life, I am comforted when others can validate my experiences. For sure-my tombstone will not merely read

'Greig—he washed his dishes!'

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On Being Unfinished: Reflection On Starting Something You Never Completed

Michelangelo never finished this sculpture of a
crouching boy intended for a decoration in the
Medici Chapel of San Lorenzo in Florence.
source: wikimedia 

Reflection: How many times have you started something you never finished? Probably a lot. And what does “Being Unfinished” say about you?
The Unfinished Professional (For me that's being a teacher)
As a teacher, I start projects I never finish. I have a folder on Google Drive of several unfinished projects. There is a unit on Charlotte's Web I haven't yet completed and my Google Keep is filled with ideas I have not yet implemented. I have tests that are half-completed. I have units that are missing chapters. I have lesson plans that are missing lessons; and, I have piles of unsorted papers on my desk. I have projects without rubrics and I have rubrics without projects (really). I have quizzes I never graded, assignments I never checked, units I never finished. In my mind there is an imaginary Google Drive folder that contains all of the lessons, rubrics, tests, and quizzes I'll ever need. Will this  imaginary folder ever become reality?

The Unfinished Person (For me that's being a bit creative)
My unfinished teaching bleeds into my unfinished creative life, too. There are books I never finished reading and unfinished puzzles lying on the floor of my closet. I have a coloring book from my childhood that has two or three pages colored. I bought an adult coloring book for Christmas (A gift to myself) but I never started it. It's quite beautiful, really. The pages are a display of black lines and clear, empty spaces. I have one-hundred pages of a novel I was trying to write last Summer that still sits unfinished in a Manila envelope in my desk's third drawer. Work often brings me dread because I am caught thinking of work I have not finished. There are letters I want to write to friends and emails that have gone unsent (I am embarrassed to show you my drafts folder). But, what does being unfinished really say about a person?

Having unfinished projects probably means:

• You are always thinking
• You enjoy work but dread it at the same time
• You like to be creative
• You enjoy the process
• You are a maker
• You are productive
• You are seldom bored
• You value ideas
• You keep to-do lists
• You have a TON of FINISHED projects 

Consider:
Think about the projects you have completed. What do they say about you? What projects have you started that have gone unfinished? Do you judge yourself more harshly than you judge others? Let us know in the comments.

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Reflection: Another Year Goes Away and a New Year Begins

Sometimes life is like a circle. I could go on and give examples - and I will - but I feel like E.B. White did it best in an essay he wrote about circus performers.
      It’s been a while since I closely read the essay but I remember its thesis poignantly. Time is like a circle. White focuses his writing on one performer specifically who takes command of the circus ring. He notices she is in counterbalance to another performer, older, who is also in the ring. White imagines the younger performer is at the crest of her career, illuminating and graceful yet the other performer is also she - less graceful and aging. That’s what I remember. White manages to place an idea of recurrence - of repeating and twinning that resonates with me even now. Perhaps it’s because it’s the beginning of a new year - 2019 and I just recently celebrated a birthday. In a year from now, I’ll celebrate forty years on earth. I’ve been out of school long enough to miss it and I’ve been working just long enough to see myself getting better at what I do - but I can see my older, aged twin on the other side of the circle. He waves at me but I can’t figure out if he’s happy or not.  If I zoom in too much on the daily details of my life it’s all a bunch of minutiae - picking up the trash, sipping a cup of coffee, placing dirty clothes in the hamper. And if I zoom out a bit more - like in that book - where each page is a zoom-out or zoom in of the universe - I see bigger picture things like how much time I spent teaching or how much time I spent writing. And if I zoom out even further I see myself as a generation among generations, and further out too I’m a speck - not even significant. Yet this is what amazes me about human beings. We are persistent in our urgency to slam into the earth some smattering of meaning. And it feels worth it when I’m introspective and desperate when I’m barraged by life’s demands - yet it’s a life. At the start again. So - happy New Year.

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Poetry: Gone with the Wind, among others — Leuven, Belgium

In this poem, which I wrote when I was a college student at the Catholic University of Leuven (K.U.L.), and living as a seminarian at the American College, I tap into feelings of aesthetic taste, sharing intimacy — and I used the phrase "stones of erasmus" for the first time! 

     Erasmus was a student in Leuven during the counter-reformation. One can still see the dormitory house where he supposedly lived and studied. There is a saying among students that only if the stones of Erasmus could speak! What would they say?  

photo credit: spirit of paris

After a film,
poster and reflections
neatly crisp

Intently, furtive glances, to the right, then gone …
left man passes, consume in a bite, then a girl
with glasses, lashes and a bic light
smokes.
Curly Q’s and then somberness of night.
But, still the poster glows … the Trocadero, a movie
de l’amour and Vertigo, a fright:
An image of a man, a stale lacuna, a ghost of film noir
gazing, not apart, partly connected.  Dreams and visions
speak aloud to wet, litter caked streets.

Rotted lemon luminaries haze a path,
dulling humid low land streets, scarcity curtains pulled upwards,
A Peugeot passes, the stones of erasmus clamor to get out.
The posters gleam yet; characters speak and a stomach,
somewhere thirsty growls — it is filled and then …
in upward windows aching, she dresses for a silent figure fantasy.

A flicker, then bed, holding a teapot, languidly.
Une regard to a postcard, to consume.
Speeches to please, to sugar, then the tongue licks,
alors, madame …
then laugh,
like a box of potpourri; charming
half-dead, withered, enchanting

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