Is it over?

 I have been trying to figure out how to bring closure to my blogs. Throughout the semester, I have essentially used these blogs as an informal diary. Maybe that's why I have been hesitant to post? It is undeniably terrifying to think that even one person might read these simple writings and construct ideas of who they think I am. A common theme I am starting to notice in writing blogs, self-silencing and sabotage. So maybe, these writings offer the sort of transparency and intimacy I can not bring forward in person. 

When I consider the past few months, I acknowledge all of my growth as an instructor. Moreover, realizing some of my faults, those privately contrived and undeniably present. When I was training for this position, I never considered the sort of reflexivity pedagogy might inspire. Truthfully, and perhaps ignorantly, I believed in a traditional banking model of education. But, I am proud to admit that a lack of hindsight perhaps resulted in a more prolific semester. I argue that maybe even the uncertainty provoked a new sort of determination and anger. I dedicate this last blog to those who live within this uncertainty. I look to Anzaldua to best describe not newfound anger but a better appreciated one. 

“Why am I compelled to write?... Because the world I create in the writing compensates for what the real world does not give me. By writing I put order in the world, give it a handle so I can grasp it. I write because life does not appease my appetites and anger... To become more intimate with myself and you. To discover myself, to preserve myself, to make myself, to achieve self-autonomy. To dispell the myths that I am a mad prophet or a poor suffering soul. To convince myself that I am worthy and that what I have to say is not a pile of shit... Finally I write because I'm scared of writing, but I'm more scared of not writing.” (Anzaldua, 1981)

I call forward a need for mentoring between and for marginalized voices. Calafell (2007) claimed the act of mentorship within students and faculty of color as a place of resistance. Mentorship counteracts dominant structures of power and asserts the validity of POC voices by recognizing their positioning away from White systems. Essentially, we matter because we matter. We hold value as humans, not because we are tokens of diversity or examples of the American dream.

A few Latinx students were eager to express how proud they were of my positioning within the department. But, I failed to explain how their presence in my classroom environment healed some of my insecurities. After a tumultuous semester of feeling inadequate, it is by the student's act of sponsorship that I accepted a need for places of home (Calafell, 2007). A homeplace in which individuals feel seen and recognized in their multiplicity. 

I thank the students who allowed for a modicum of mentorship and tended to the reciprocal nature of such relationships. It is by their patience and endurance I found myself accepting the self-inflicted Otherness. And it is by their presence in my life that I center my pedagogy towards addressing the ideological gaps of facing oppression and learning to survive within academia. I note that this sort of healing cannot be solely fixed by readings of nuanced texts but by the comfort of mentorship and recognizing my voice amongst many. I write this last blog #ForThem and for the future stories that will guide my pedagogy. 

Calafell, Bernadette Marie “Mentoring and Love: An Open Letter.” Cultural Studies Critical Methodologies, 7(4). 2007. 425-441.