Buenas a todos que siguen aqui! Hello to all who are still here! Happy June. On June 3rd, I woke up to what felt like my body wanting to SPRINT a marathon. I was itchy to get up, talk to people or run in circles. Let me explain.

Do you imagine a teacher on their first day off sleeping in until 12pm? Or maybe, slowly walking to their kitchen in their nice pajamas to make some delicious coffee and an avocado toast? Not me, not my body. This body has been running on a schedule for nearly 10 months! Every weekday morning, I wake up at 6:15am. My contract begins at 7:30am. The moment I get to my work building, I’m greeted by students and teachers, which I’m grateful to hear. But then, I open my classroom and in comes a student or two to chat about something random but very important to them. I also have students who prefer to eat breakfast in my room, and so I hear the munching as they scroll on their loud phone. You could say, my students truly trust me and my room, and for that, I’m grateful. But you see, the moment I’m up and getting ready for work, my brain begins to think of all the little small things I need to prepare for my students, my curriculum, my emails, etc. At some point in my day, I have to deal with behavior(s), a mental breakdown from someone, magnet students who want to plan an activity, and conversing with students who don’t want to do the work. In this short image, I hope you can see how much I pour out of my cup (this doesn’t even include my extracurriculars). Y’all, I love my job! It’s just exhausting AF. On that June 3rd, I woke up before the usual alarm. I stayed in bed just to witness my brain going in circles. I held my heart. I took a few deep breaths. I got up, and I didn’t know what to do with myself. So, I doom scrolled, and while I did that I found an instagram page called @resilient_educator. Lisa, the creator of the page, shares how to help teachers manage burnout (and yes, she was a long-time teacher who experienced an extreme level of burnout, so I trust her). As I scrolled on her content, I understood why I felt like running that morning. June is a tough month for many teachers, as our bodies are transitioning into recovery mode. Our bodies are processing. The nervous system is re-learning to slow down. My body is learning to rest.

We are weeks into June now. There are still moments when I feel like I need to be a fly, buzzing around from wall to wall. But I’m managing. I’m setting a schedule — yes, another one, but one that brings me what I need: rest, joy, comfort, movement, intention.

By the end of the summer, I’ll start to reflect on boundaries for the next school year. But for now, I’m going to play with my juicer, water the flowers, feed the hummingbird, juggle a soccer ball, and write.

In mid-March, I was folding clothes in my living room watching The Shade Room (on Youtube) with special guest, Raven Symoné. Lately, I’ve been non-intentionally diving into interviews with popular celebrities from the 90’s and early 2000’s. Prior to watching Raven’s, I watched an interview with Hilary Duff. I don’t see myself reflected in these famous, wealthy people, but I do see their humanity. It intrigues me. Or perhaps some of the things they talk about touch on thoughts I’ve recently had. In The Shade Room interview, Raven was asked about her use of social media. She responded that she’s not scrolling through the gram or Tik Tok following people’s lives. She, instead, is interested in scrolling with a purpose: to can expand her knowledge. This question brought something up for me, especially since I’m currently not scrolling — for Lent season I deleted social media apps from my phone. I started to think, “what does it mean to scroll through things either brain rot or expand my knowledge?” and “what does my social media presence look like once Lent season is over”? Here are a few rambling thoughts that did come to mind:

1. Being off social media means I’m missing out

   Let me tell you — I do feel left out of people’s lives. And I question this. We, social media users, use an online platform, freely, to showcase our lives to people we may or may not be interacting with on a regular basis, let alone a 1:1 basis. Is that not weird to anyone else? For example, there are people on Facebook that I do not consider close at all but FB has provided my feed with this person’s holiday picture with their newborn and pets. I could unfriend, but they could too? I could also just keep scrolling, but then why am I there FB friend and not reacting to their post? Ya see where I’m going with this? Sadly, I will miss out on events, updates, etc. I’ll have to be the girl that goes to the library bulletin board to see what’s happening in town, and I’m okay with that.

2. Social media uses up my TIME

   Not having Instagram or Facebook has significantly reduced my time on the phone. I’ve picked up a hobby that I am always putting on the back burner, and that’s reading! I’m utilizing the library app, Libby, to get those reading minutes in. I’m also using The StoryGraph to record the books I’m reading or wishing to read. I’ve also picked up Sudoku. When I’m bored, I do not rely on my phone to cure that boredness. I choose to be more productive because of the lack of social media.I’m the type of person that checks the weekly usage of my phone, and I like to watch the minutes go down from using Youtube or other apps.

3. What do authentic friendships look like without social media?

   Truth be told, I miss having a social circle. I’ve been in my hometown for over five years now, and I’m still struggling finding close friends in the area. I also do not have friends who I’m constantly communicating with, unless it’s a Snapchat streak. I’ll send a text to a friend or two to check-in and call it a day. What happened to phone calls? Long text messages? Is everyone else having these at 29, but me? I’m truly curious to know what these connections look like outside off social media.

4. Social media and mental health

   There’s no question about it — if one doesn’t know what a healthy relationship looks like with social media, mental health will take a hit. I have heard folks complain about what they see on their feeds, and I’m thinking: unfollow, close app, or get off the app. I did not delete ALL my social media apps. I only deleted FB and IG off my phone. I kept Snapchat but notifications are off. It’s a fast way (yes, faster than text) to connect with people I occasionally talk to. I also have Pinterest. I don’t necessarily consider it an app like FB because but it is the perfect place to find recipes, decor ideas, hair inspo, etc. If what I’m using (social media) is not filling my cup, I will not let it rot my emotions either. I’m for using only apps that provide you with relief, excitement, and creativity.

5. I could live without it (socials)

   I will make my return to Instagram and Facebook soon after Easter just to check-in on messages or any quick updates, but I don’t think I’ll stay on for long, and if I do, I will mainly have the app but not get on their daily. It’s nice to not know everything about someone that I have no connections with. In a small town, I want to run into people and truly not know anything, so I can ask them questions that are authentically true and not based off what I witnessed in their recent post. Similarly, I do not think I need to update others with my life — if you are close to me, I’d hope you’d know where I am or what I’m up to. I plan to make posts on IG when I feel like it. I’m sad to think that I will most likely miss incredible updates from people I do cheer on! Some of my newsletter folks, you are the people I cheer on, and if you don’t hear from me through the socials, perhaps I can reach out via text, or I welcome you to do the same! Thank you for being here and (hopefully) still reading my newsletters.

What I’m Listening

• Good Hang with Amy Poehler

• Songs by Lenin Ramirez

Are you a planner? Or are you a go-with-the-flow type of person? Since I can remember, I’ve been planning and executing the next thing in my planner. It’s like second nature to me, to write off what I think is the best choice that will get me to my next destination. But then life hits me hard, and I’m reminded just how unpredictable this life truly is. One example that I can provide is my obsession with learning. In October of 2025, I enrolled at Wichita State for a graduate certification in English studies to start Spring 2026. My thought process was, “I’m wrapping up the Master’s degree, so I should move forward with another educational endeavor right off the bat,” but post-health issues I decided to push off the certification. I’ve been learning to let go of a calendar that controls. While I did postpone the certification for summer, I’m open to canceling it all together by then if I don’t feel like it anymore. That statement alone is a huge step for me.

Last summer, I embarked on a stressful journey of applying to a big scholarship/fellowship. Well, January and February 2026 brought a moment of truth (that comes with planning ahead) — rejections. Email rejections aren’t always the best, especially when the subject line immediately reads, “Thank you” rather than “Congratulations" or “You’ve been selected”. I allow myself to simmer in my rejection and then delete the email and shrug it off. While the shrug is a testament of I’m not going to let that get to me, the rejection still stings. Some sting so bad that it can change my entire mood for the day. Even when I click the delete button, I’m left with questions: “Why didn’t I get it?” and/or “Am I even worthy/good?” I do my best to shake it off, and like a bee sting, the pain disappears after awhile but the mark lingers for quite a big longer. The first rejection came from the Paul and Daisy Soros fellowship. I didn’t make it to the finalist round. I applied for the Soros because I didn’t want to live a life with a “What if?” Truthfully, I didn’t feel so broken about it. Receiving the Soros would’ve required me to make structural changes with my life; ones I wasn’t sure I was willing to shift. The second rejection came from an advanced workshop with Layli Long Soldier through Poetry Society. The poetry workshop was something I would’ve loved to have done as it was virtual and with the one and only, Layli. Unfortunately for me it was incredibly popular so the competition was high. Rejections often feel like a call from the ancestors and God to slow tf down. These applications take time and effort to create! I am in awe of all those who do take on these giants year after year. The application process helps me understand that I’ve got work under my belt but there’s still work to be done. I’ve applied to more workshops this year, and I can only hope one aligns with my current journey.

In other disappointments, teachers have arrived at the time of the slump. What is the slump? Well, it’s a time in the year where we (students, teachers, admin and others in the school) start to feel the tug and pull of the winter season. We are drained. We are exhausted. We are in dire need of a break. Our school calendar this year does not grant us a full Spring break week like last year where I had the time of my life in Colorado and New Mexico. My students and I alike are burned out. We are treading through deep waters and barely making it over the sharp waves. It’s very, very tough not to take this season personally. And it’s also crucial to not take it out on the students who are also just hanging on. This time hits each year, and I become more so disappointed at the education system. I wish we could talk more about the needs of teachers and students in this outdated education system. I’m currently working through a new teacher yoga class that teaches more in-depth social and emotional activities, such as chair yoga. I’m particularly thankful to this class, as it has allowed me to bring exercises into my classroom. Students don’t always love it or participate as it’s new and uncomfortable. But I invite them to do what they wish to do and that to me is good enough. Impact would be greater of course if systemic things changed. Thankfully, the sun is an optimistic reminder that the days are getting brighter and my mood is shifting too. I’m hoping Spring brings renewal because I desperately need to be showered in it. I’m also taking on a residency at the Yes! House this month. Very grateful to step away from the classroom and enjoy my solitude in my writing and side projects.

P.s. I’m off the socials for Lent season. Hope y’all are experiencing joy on some sort of level!

This fall and winter, I tested the waters by cooking big Mexican meals. My favorite cooking buddies are my mother and Roque. I’m most proud of making mole, [mohl—aye]. If you don’t know what mole is, it’s a sweet and spicy paste/sauce that can be eaten with rice, tamales, meat, and more. We served it with chicken and rice. It’s a long process full of important steps. Some of the popular ingredients in mole are guajillo peppers, chocolate, and peanuts. While we cooked, my maternal grandmother joined us via phone and walked us through ingredients, and while we didn’t have all of them we made do with what we did have. A very sweet moment to share this time of the season. It certainly feels like I’m stepping fully into my cooking-era where I’m putting more time into planning out a recipe and planning out hours in my day for it. As the eldest daughter of a woman who kills it in the kitchen (and the entire family knows it) there’s some pressure to be the next in line to care for our recipes AND be good at making them. I feel very lucky and blessed to learn from my mother!

I’m always in awe this time of year as the natural world changes colors, the wind gets icier, and the small wild animals are less visible. The early dark evenings are also not the best, but I’m learning to be in gratitude of them. Roque’s birthday lands on Winter Solstice. His love for winter has shifted my perspective of how I see the heavy dense fogs and snowy conditions. Growing up, winter felt fun as we marched outside in large winter coats, winter snow boots, and big gloves ready to make snow angels, snow man, and a snow fort. The darkness makes my spirit feel heavier as an adult. Anyone else? I’m trying to work on feeling more like a slow-falling snowflake and taking advantage of rest and other indoor hobbies.

i can’t believe that it is nearly the end of july and in just a few short weeks i will be returning to the blue carpeted floors and the popularized phrase type-shit of what is my classroom. as nice as it might seem that educators get summers off, it truly is not enough time to re-nourish our bodies. when the day comes, i’ll gladly accept it but for now, summer is running full-speed with corn-sweat in the air!

the first week of july consisted of preparing for the international festival. stories from unheard voices (a project i started years ago) collaborated with the festival to create pamphlets of first-person stories of Haitian folks in our community. we also had the opportunity to table and interact with young ones!

Hello + happy summer! I’m typing this newsletter from an apartment in the upstairs of Springboard for the Arts office in Fergus Falls, Minnesota. The cozyness of the space allows me to ask myself, “Okay, what do I want to do — something I can’t seem to do at home?” And writing this newsletter was at the top of my list!

Folks, I don’t know about you, but there are some things that I just feel too lazy, too overwhelmed or just plain too tired to do them in my house. I’m still settling in the new home and still contemplating ideas of the way the rooms should be decorated and set up. Perhaps, once I’m content with my office space then I’d be more inclined to take time to write to you. I’m also trying to get a cute bistro set for the outdoors, so that I can soak in the morning summer sun. I’d venture out into town but Worthington’s public spaces are not places I’m eager to be at; we’ve got Phileo’s which is the most local and authentic-ish cafe in town. I say —ish because they don’t serve you a cute hot latte in a mug (the food does slap) and also they close at 3pm and closed on weekends as they’re also a church. I’m not asking for a lot, I think? Back in my “youngin” days, the local panaderia (bakery) was the place to go — as was the library. But since new owners bought it, they decided that every part of their open wall and window space needed a refrigerator full of goods. Slaps forehead. Capitalism, man. Therefore, it’s no longer an enjoyable spot. And the library is currently closed for remodeling and their new set up is tight. My little entrepreneurial dream has been to open a small coffee/tea shop, but I also feel that’s like 90% of us. Maybe, later in life? I am always reminding myself of a quote from a Rural Regen. friend, “Every time you say yes to something, you say no to your craft,” as in we put our writing and creative work to the side.

Moving on from the day dreams… I’m actually content with how the school year ended. This year, I had things under my belt. I attended so many workshops, and I’ve completed the last full semester of grad classes and student teaching—-GAH! Always learning, learning, learning! I successfully passed the EdTPA and graduated from the Graduate Teaching Licensure program from St. Scholastica. Now, I’m taking on 2 more grad classes (which can’t be taken simultaneously) so by December, I’ll be part of the 8% of Latinas with a MASTER’S!!! EEEEEEKKKK. I don’t think I’m done from formal education, but I do think it’s a “catch you in a bit” kind of a vibe. I’m truly stoked to become a tier 3 licensed teacher this fall because then I officially feel like I’m legitimate and no one can take that from me. When I started, I’d let teachers give me opinions and do all the talking in leadership meetings, cause what did I know? (Uhm, I did know some things just felt like I’d be invalidated due to my tier and lack of education in this profession). But now, GIRL, I DO KNOW. There’s a lot of meme-able moments here that I will spare us from. As you can read, I’m just so excited and proud. The most prideful moment I had this end of the year was my student reading an essay at graduation which she wrote in my creative writing class. A moment that solidified my why I’m where I’m at.

Like many of you, I’ve been glued to the news since the new administration. My subscription to the New York Times buzzes at me throughout the day with hourly breaking news notifications. It’s rather dangerous to my mental health but it feels like if I’m not paying attention then I’m not being my most informed self. To be informed means power to me. It means being the informant to the people that most need to hear the information. Yet, it has definitely brought me to the ‘what-ifs’, such as what if ICE does come to town and community members are deported? what if our rights as naturalized citizens are stripped from us? what if the people I most love are separated from me? what if the rights that so so so many people have fought for decades are instantly removed from each and everyone one of us — what then? These are only a few thoughts that I’m thinking about. I’m sure I’m not alone.

A few weeks back, I received an exciting email in my inbox from Movement Generation. They are joining adrienne marie brown to write and edit Murmurations, a column she started in 2021 with YES! Magazine. I’m stoked to read words, phrases, and ideas that may heal my uneasiness throughout this BS. Movement Generation is an incredible organiation. It hypes my education interest even more — many times, I’ve thought of looking into political education in my community since I don’t feel like I am doing enough of this inside the classroom in a rural public school district that bans Pride flags… It’s inspiring to see what radical transformation can be done in a local community through education.

In other personal news, I’ve been practicing the creative art form of braided essays. I’m taking a class with Chyana Marie Sage this winter, whom is releasing her memoir debut “Soft As Bones” in May. So far, we’ve read incredible excerpts from Ocean Voung and Terese Mailhot. But what really opened my eyes to this art form is “In Him We Have Redemption Through His Blood,” by Elissa Washuta. I’m not a gamer, but I have heard the game Read Dead Redemption and Elissa smoothly brings us in and out of her comfy couch, Indigenous lineage, and the video game. 10/10 recommend. The essay I’m working on has a story I tell too many times: law school. I used Elissa’s piece as a mentor text to braid my own experience at law school with that of my personal reasons for attending in the first place. I don’t think it’s at the place where I’m happy with it but it’s definitely grown into a beautiful braided essay, which I didn’t know how to do weeks before trying it out on my own. Writing is keeping me busy, as well as side projects that I’ve taken on while also working on my graduate school work for teaching. I’m trying to reel it back again. I don’t want to overdo myself, especially in the times we are trying to survive through.

To stay in a optimistic or gleeful mood, I watch a lot of tv. We know this. When I find a show I really like, I’m on glued to the end. It is a dangerous path too because the time I’m putting on shows could be going to writing or lesson planning. But sometimes, we just need to slump back into our couch and grab the remote and press play. Don’t you think? Here’s what’s been on my screen lately besides awards shows’ season:

Hola, hola, hola! I hope you’ve had an incredible week filled with family, joy, and snow! New Year’s is creeping up, and I’m not sure I’m ready for the calendar to conclude with 25. Most years I journal about my hopes and goals for the new year but before I get down to business with my journal, I want to write a few reflections from this 2024 and share them with you all.

1. In January of 2024, I started off strong with a writer’s workshop with the Kenyon Review where I created new works of poetry (I’ll share one with you all at the end of this newsletter)! Unfortunately, I didn’t write as much as I would’ve wanted to. Grad school, teaching, and my project with the RSDP (Regional Sustainable Development Partnership) took much of my time. It was nice to place priority on my art, and I’m hoping to continue to do the same in 2025 but push it stronger in all the 12 months. Maybe I pitch to new publications, apply to writing workshops out of state, and/or just do more writing (“not all poetry is for publishing,” as Marlin M. Jenkins stated at the 2024 Kenyon Writing Winter Workshop).

   

2. I was invited to be a reviewer of the scholarship that changed my entire course at St. Kate’s. Not only did the Jay and Rose Phillips Scholarship help with my financial stress but it marked what would be the beginning of my future. Without hesitation I accepted the volunteer role of reviewing these year’s applications. It wasn’t as intense as I imagined it to be — truthfully, it was fun. I loved reading the stories that college student’s wrote and how their story connected to their passion project. I love, love, love being invited to support organization’s with these kinds opportunities, surprisingly, it happens more often outside of Worthington then inside town. 5 years later, I’m still wondering why that is. I’ve been wanting to find a way to support high school seniors and juniors to apply to scholarships and/or schools, but I haven’t had the capacity to do so, and honestly, I’m not sure I’d receive interest. Time will continue to tell…

   

3. We had an unexpected yet expected purchase of a beautiful home on the top of the hill of my childhood neighborhood. Over the last few years, Roque and I have been looking for houses on the market. We never found one, and I ended up leaving for law school; we already know how that story ended (left that institution). In early July, the perfect home on the corner went up for sale. A very scary investment as the house was listed as ‘As-is’ and if you are purchasing or have purchased a home you’ll know that that means you’ll be buying the house with no remodeling done by the owner, with broken/damaged materials, and/or other details that may be crucial to the infrastructure of the house. Regardless, the energy the house gave (plus other detailed reasons) and the cost was right in our budget. We were willing to take the risk and after a tug-of-war with a few other interested bidders, we were the accepted ones! This transaction occurred in August, but we didn’t move in until a bit after Thanksgiving weekend, as you know, we had some fixing to do with the house. I’m happy to create a newsletter specifically about the house and of being a first-time home buyer but for now the reflection is how proud I am of myself and of my partner, Roque! Home buyers in 2024! YEET.

   

4. I prioritized my current profession in teaching A LOT this year. I took on my second year of grad school (which is still underway) and two programs specifically for teaching. I do think these programs have supported the love I have for being in the classroom. I have felt very supported and cared for by the folks at the Writing Center at the University of Minnesota (shoutout to Lee and Jasmine). While I don’t think the content has challenged me or been new information, I have been ecstatic to receive incredible books and workshops that I know have added to my knowledge around critical pedagogy. The only challenge is being more vocal about critical pedagogy in my school building and district. To further reflect on my teaching journey, I want to add that this year has been tough. Student behavior has become an added stress, as well as some of the staff. I’ve grounded myself in the belief that I’m to teach my content area in my classroom, help my students grow and learn from literature, and support them with what I can in regards to their emotional and social intelligence. I’m not in the profession to have drama with colleagues about the ways we each do our jobs, no ma’am, I am not. So, may the odds be in my favor in teaching this 2025.

   

5. Storytelling hasn’t stopped at all in 2024, though I know I haven’t mentioned much of it in online. I’m working on my Stories from Unheard Voices continuously, and I’m also working with the Norther Plains voices on a project for the National Folklife Network website. I’m working on interviews of super cool artists in Greater Minnesota and partnering up with other artists to make this happen. The project is supposed to be done by the beginning of the 2025 summer, and I sure hope it does. I’ll also be featured in a dope podcast this 2025, I’ll make sure to share this project out — I’m not leading it, but I have been asked to be an interviewee. Similarly, the Star Tribune reached out and here is the story I was featured in for a millisecond. There’s a reason why I like to write and be the producer of a first-person encounter of mine—publications and journalists have their own angle and the authentic emotions and stories can become lost. I’m not exactly in love with the piece, but it does fire me up to continue to freelance and write more about home and the people we don’t often hear about.

6. Last reflection I have for us in this newsletter is about my undiagnosed anxiety. I’ve been really proud of myself for pushing my limitations when it comes to my anxiety of being in crowded places and spaces that I’m either not used to or just hate because of previous experiences. I went to a concert, I traveled on my own, I attended events, and I even have hosted outings with others. These steps are a huge stepping stone to what I can continue to build on. A few things that have helped this year with keeping me calm and collected has been yoga + meditation, saying ‘no’, as well as accepting my emotions and stressors. In 2025, I’m hoping to make the move of hopping on a plane and traveling across the country, as well as outside of the US. I’ve always loved to travel but because of anxiety, I stopped full-track on these endeavors. I have struggled to get back on this interest of mine, but I feel like I’m becoming more and more ready to conquer these fears which are getting in the way of living my life to the fullest.

   May the lucky stars be aligned for me and for YOU this 2025. I also want to thank each one of you for reading my newsletters this 2024, for cheering me on from afar, and for being inspiring individuals to me! Cheers!

   I will close with an original poem of mine, which has been sitting in my Google Drive. A present from me to you! See you all in the NEW YEAR!!

   

   Wish you could be here
   _{andrea v. duarte-alonso}

   where the deer face you with their
   bright eyes at night as you zoom down
   a rural road

   wish you could be here

   where the windmills stand strong
   and never stop turning their majestic
   arms

   wish you could be here

   where i paddle my kayak lightly
   on the lake, and swing my sandy feet
   out

   wish you could be here

   where i jog a 5k color run
   as a young teen, and my thick Latina ponytail
   frolics

   wish you could be here

   where i lock lips on the first date
   at the top of the hill behind the neighbor’s
   shrubs

   wish you could be here

   to witness the monarch
   butterflies dance on my warm
   hand

[a] break (noun): a pause in work or during an activity or event (Dictionary.com).

a pause — that’s exactly the kind of button I wish there was in this so-called place we call ‘life’. Have you ever watched Click with Adam Sandler? He could control everything through a remote! He’d walk around hitting rewind, stop, forward, and pause whenever he found convenient. Sometimes in my magical thoughts I do think how cool that would be. Perhaps the pause/break would be longer than the one an average American takes, which according to an article from the New York Post is 17 minutes, four times a day — if one is lucky enough to take them.

It seems I’m always drowning in a to-do list. Grad school has been kicking my butt lately! The process to becoming a licensed teacher is an exhausting one, and one that I now admire many of my teacher friends for taking on. Learning about the edTPA and having to do it next semester is going to make me feel like I’m living in absolute hell. I’m not only writing lesson plans for grad school, but I’m prepping for every day teaching. Now that I have more confidence in my role as an educator, I emphasize certain things in the classroom such as connecting the lesson to my students’ lives and creating engaging tools for them to use while they learn. It is very daunting, yet exciting and intriguing to me. I’ve also been dealing with quite a bit of behavior issues then I have had in the past with some students, so I feel like I’m on a rollercoaster of what kind of vibes I’m trying to throw out to them when I want to keep them accountable but also continuing to build trust. This school year has also been an interesting one in that staff has become rather “intense”. I try not to interact with that “intensity”, but it can be tough to manage the school system all alone — more on this perhaps in the next newsletter. Thankfully, I’ve found great support through a teacher affinity group that is state-wide, and I’m part of an educator fellowship on emphasizing critical pedagogies in practice and in the classroom. This is also state-wide and it’s a program through the University of Minnesota. I feel very blessed to have these folks as support, but I do wish I could find this locally. Regardless, all of this is continued work in progress, and I can’t wait until it’s over, and I can manage some of these moments better.

My partner and I went shopping for Christmas decor to jolly up our house. I decided that this weekend I wouldn’t be on my laptop doing homework, and I can say, I did very well! I helped him with the kitchen remodeling project, and we even put up our Christmas tree! These little joyful acts are my break. Each day that I become older, I start to aspire to do less and be okay with less. Now, I am not talking about becoming a couch potato — but, hey, if that’s what you want, then go for it — but rather more like stop taking the time to obsess over something a student/teacher said or signing-up for another poetry workshop when I’ve already signed up for one on the same week. As a virgo, this girl still has ambitions and it seems like my to-do list will never disappear but if I can reduce it for the sake of not giving myself another panic attack then that’s what I need to do. For two years now, I’ve been telling myself, “Choose joy. Do only things that bring you joy.” And it is a lot more tough then anything, especially if there are bills to be paid and if there are dreams to be explored.

Since May, I’ve been unsuccessful in writing a newsletter — turns out Buttondown does not love interacting with my Mac’s Internet Explorer! But we’re back and on Google Chrome!

On May 30th, I wrapped up the end of the 2023-2024 school year! It was the first end of the school year that did not feel so fatigued. While I do need this summer break, I walked out of classroom excited to be back in the fall. I have grown to love the work that I do and how to power through the pains. I’ve learned to be incredibly patient and accepting to my LC students. And my graduate teaching program is doing wonders for me in the curriculum and classroom management area. There’s nothing better then being able to say, “Oh, now I get it,” or “I know what I’m going to do better.” I think I’m eager as well because I’ll be working with the University of Minnesota on two programs, one is specific to mentorship for teachers of color and the other one is on the teacher writing discipline. I’ll expand more on these opportunities as they happen, and share out my learnings as well.

It is now late June, and I’ve already had a whirlwind of a summer time. My summer classes started, as did my planned events. I spent a few short days in Fergus Falls, MN, which is one of the neatest little places. I emerged myself in new arts, such as printmaking! I also had a great time connecting and reconnecting with wonderful rural arts people.