My GED

The story I most want to tell right now is about my GED. I never thought I would get it, but then again, I never thought I would drop out either. I don't have a lot to say about it, it's just one of the things that's happening. I don't really feel much about it, to be honest. I feel like I should probably feel more about it, like, feel more excited or happy or feel anything, but I don't know, it's weird. It doesn't feel very momentous; it feels more like an afterthought.   I think maybe if I had done it the traditional way it would feel better, but it feels like a given. More like tying up a loose end rather than a new beginning, you know? And I don't know, I really don't have plans for what I'm going to do after. I don't think I would be very good at college, but I also don't think my future would be very good without it. I try not to think about it. Which I guess is how I've done most things, by not really thinking, you know? So I guess the story I want to tell about my GED isn't really a story at all. I don't think I have another story though. I don't think everyone does. Sometimes it's life and watching TV and going to college and walking the dog but there's not really a story. There's not really a lot.   

~George Mendez

Rocks

The story I most want to tell right now is about rocks. I've been a paleontologist for all of my life. I went to Harvard after WWII, and I got my PhD after that, and I've been travelling and researching since the 1950's. It's taken me to Antarctica and Russia and China, and in the end, it's all about rocks. Everything I do is about rocks. It's admittedly weird, because rocks are the clichŽ we use when we want to describe something as boring. Rocks are the metaphor we use when something is stagnant, but to me, rocks are always changing. Minerals and organic matter are always being compounded, they're always changing and morphing and developing.  In my bedroom I have a case line of rocks. In fact, my whole house is filled with rocks, but the ones in my bedroom are the most special. They're the ones that I fall asleep looking at, and they're the ones that I first see when I wake up. This may be a stretch, but working with rocks has taught me that things always change- things are changing right now, and they're always going to continue changing forever, you just have to give them enough time.  

~Anonymous

FIU

The story I most want to tell right now is about FIU. 

I was born and raised in Miami. My parents are the particular generation of Cuban that came here and made an excellent life for themselves, not teaching their children Spanish for fear that it might socially or intellectually ostracize them. They were the particular generation of Cuban that didn't save the American dream for their kids, they went out and got it all on their own. I don't think they saved any for me. 

Florida International University is a good school, don't get me wrong, but my parents are both architects. They met in architecture school, and received fellowships to come to America and study here as architects. Both of them are really high achieving, and set really high standards. It's always been hard, because on one hand they are immigrants, and did come here for a better life, but it was never about creating a better life for their children to compensate for something they never had. They were some of the lucky ones in Cuba, so they had everything except for the fellowship. When they came here, it was for the fellowship, it was never for us. I am the child of immigrants, but I don't fit into that mold.

Especially being from Miami, there are so many immigrants here from all over the world, but mostly from the Caribbean and South America. I feel like immigrants from those areas sometimes try and vicariously live through their children, and I know that I don't have the pressure of parents trying to vicariously live through me, but it's still hard. I don't have any standards to live up to, not because they didn't give me any standards, but because my parents were fulfilled to begin with. 

I think my parent viewed me going to FIU as giving up. They would always talk about how getting into architecture school in Cuba was so competitive after the revolution, and about how careful you had to be with the government, but I don't know how much I care. They are my parents, and their past is my past, but they made such a conscious effort to make my brother and I feel so American instead of Cuban, so at this point, I find it hard to care. 

Don't get me wrong, I care about my parents, just not about being Cuban. That was their life, and this is mine. 

~Crista D'az

自从来到香港

自从来到香港，这里的政治事件就没有停止过：从去年夏天立法会议员选举造势，到两位当选的本土议员因就职宣誓提及港独而被取消议员资格，再到近日占中运动中涉嫌殴打抗议者的七警被起诉，香港的政治环境愈加复杂，政治生态也让人一言难尽。而我对政治的态度也发生了很大变化。不同于四年前来香港交换时，我密切关注了香港政治动态半年；不同于我在美国求学时，做了香港占中运动的研究，现在在香港求学的我常常对政治话题避而远之。虽然我的专业是传播学，但课堂上大家都小心翼翼地避开香港时政这个雷区，只谈论香港之外的政治议题，如川普当选。课下更是不会交流个人的政治身份和态度。所以每次看到政治新闻，总有一种"我一定生活在另一个香港"的感觉。这个"不议政"的学术环境虽然维护了背景不同学生间的"和谐"，但其实也让两地青年丧失了互相真正理解的机会。

~ Grace

The story I most want to tell right now is about my GED

The story I most want to tell right now is about my GED. I never thought I would get it, but then again, I never thought I would drop out either. I don't have a lot to say about it, it's just one of the things that's happening. I don't really feel much about it, to be honest. I feel like I should probably feel more about it, like, feel more excited or happy or feel anything, but I don't know, it's weird. It doesn't feel very momentous; it feels more like an afterthought. I think maybe if I had done it the traditional way it would feel better, but it feels like a given. More like tying up a loose end rather than a new beginning, you know? And I don't know, I really don't have plans for what I'm going to do after. I don't think I would be very good at college, but I also don't think my future would be very good without it. I try not to think about it. Which I guess is how I've done most things, by not really thinking, you know? So I guess the story I want to tell about my GED isn't really a story at all. I don't think I have another story though. I don't think everyone does. Sometimes it's life and watching TV and going to college and walking the dog but there's not really a story. There's not really a lot.

~George Mendez

Peggy McIntosh wrote that

Peggy McIntosh wrote that privilege meant the ability to decide what causes you fight for and what voices you listen to. For example, a white person in America has the option of whether or not they want to support racial equality while the matter is not nearly as much of a choice for a person who is not white. While everybody should support racial equality, a white person's opportunities and quality of life is not at stake, their basic rights and proper treatment is not at the center of the battle for racial equality. This is privilege, being given a choice as to who and what you want to support because you want to, not because your basic humanity is at stake.
In regards to the events of the last couple of months, the point that I keep coming back to is the juxtaposition between those whose rights have recently been greatly threatened and those who have not been put in such a position. My parents, two white middle aged people with savings and stable jobs, can watch the news and frown upon political protests. They can spin the recent election by saying that a president who was not a politician could be good for America. My parents can say that people protesting the recent election need to accept that Trump won and move on, that that these people are being whiny and immature. I have butt heads with my parents on a lot of issues recently in our country and I know that I am not the only person my age to experience this. I have given up arguing against their view because they simply do not see the gravity of what has been going on. To draw on McIntosh, my parents have the privilege of not being put in such dire a situation over recent events.
I have friends who are not white middle aged people with savings and who do not have jobs that are as stable as my parents. These people do not have the ability to be so far removed from the recent upheaval in our country. My friends who are not white are worried, my friends who are not straight are worried, many people my age are worried, my female friends and I are worried, my fellow special education teachers are worried. Many people who live in this country have just been sent the message that their rights can be threatened because of something as fundamental as their race, their gender, or their sexuality.
In response to the notion that Trump hasn't been in office for that long or that some of the things that he supposedly said can be attributed to the media, more damage than people who fail to recognize the problem can see has been done. In his SNL monologue, Aziz Ansari spoke about all of the people who voted for Trump, people who feel that they no longer have to hide their prejudices in today's America. The "KKK with a lowercase k", so to speak, refers to the notion that people with bigoted, biased views now feel affirmed and supported in their beliefs.
On a more personal note, I work with special education students. Many of my students are on the autism spectrum and a main worry of mine is about them, about the future of IDEA and other provisions in place for them, about propter treatment for them.
In my Educating Linguistically and Culturally Diverse Students class we watched a documentary on Latin American immigrants and the reasons that they came to this country. The documentary highlighted that fact that, in many Latin American countries, the United States' actions led to upheaval that caused people to flee to America. Many of the people in the documentary said that they came to the United States illegally but that this was not a choice of theirs. These people did not want to leave their homes and their families but the United States' involvement in their countries had led to such violence and instability that they did not have a choice. These people are some of the people threatened by the current events in our country.
I am not well versed in politics and I do not keep up enough with current events but I know enough to know that what has been going on in our country is not okay. The story that I keep coming back to is the gaping divide between those who have the privilege to look down upon people who are fighting for their basic rights or the rights of others and those who suddenly feel unsafe, unwanted, and abandoned in their own homes. This divide is what gives so many people, people who may have the power the help, the feeling that nothing is wrong and that they can ignore all of the recent turmoil. This divide is part of the problem as to why some people rightfully feel unsafe in America.
This divide strikes me because it is why two people who live in the same country, same state even, can feel very differently about current events. One person can feel that things are fine and that people need to accept what's happened and stop protesting and fighting it while another person can feel trapped and helpless, unable to protect themselves and the ones that they love. This should not be the case. We need everybody to be fighting for equality, for the rights of all Americans, we cannot have some who feel that they are safely removed from the battle. The juxtaposition between these two positions is not only striking but harmful. Such as juxtaposition is not uncommon but now is a good a time as any, if not a better time, to fix this problem. Getting past this divide will not only help people struggling and facing an unsafe environment and unfair treatment now but it will set a precedent that just because one may not feel at the center of a fight for others does not mean that they can turn away from it so easily.

This image was taken and posted by a summer camp that I work for. I chose this image because the special needs camp that posted it is a place of acceptance and a great example of a community of support. The community at this workplace is one where everybody is treated like family and we work hard to ensure that every member of our community is treated fairly and equally. Communities like this one help to exemplify what I think we need in America right now.

~ Cristina Ulto

When I was growing up I was always told

When I was growing up I was always told that I could be whatever I wanted to be. When you're three or four or five you don't think that there are any exceptions to that kind of idea. I didn't know that my being a girl, or my being Latina, would hold any weight on my ability to be whatever I wanted to be. As I got older, it was easy to tell myself that the world was becoming more progressive with each passing year. I grew up in a diverse town, went to schools that had predominantly African American or Latin demographics. I went to an all girls high school, where we were taught to empower and exhibit leadership. We heard whispers of the difficulty women faced in the working world, but we told ourselves that things were getting better. Once I got to college it didn't take long for me to realize that my ethnicity and my gender weighed heavily on how I was perceived by the world, and how I was going to be treated. I worked hard in college, building my resume while still taking on leadership roles on campus and maintaining a social life. Watching Hillary Clinton, a candidate I'd so passionately supported throughout the 2016 Election, lose, crushed all of the hopes I had that a woman like me really could be whatever they wanted to be. If a qualified woman could lose an election to a severely under qualified man, what was stopping the world from preventing me, a Latina woman, from taking on the roles I deserved. This period of my life has taught me that I can work as hard as I can, but it'll only be through a change in the attitude's of others, and the perception of women and minorities in this country, that women like me can have the world open up for them. I have faith that one day it'll happen, and I'd be honored to say I was one of the millions of women that marched, spoke out, and stood up for their rights and made their voices heard. I hope that one day, Hillary Clinton's words will echo true: "To every little girl who dreams big: Yes, you can be anything you want-even president."

~Anonymous

Transferring into private school after sixth grade

Transferring into private school after sixth grade graduation is the Mount Vernon student's equivalent of other Westchester County students' bar mitzvahs--"Everyone is doing it!" "My brother went here, it's great!" "It's worth the cost!" But, while splurging on that venue in the city is a supposed good investment, not everyone is afforded this rite of passage. I was fortunate to have been raised a block away from a nationally-recognized elementary school that masterfully educated its diverse student body, over 40% coming from disadvantaged backgrounds. Upon graduation from sixth grade, I hadn't recognized the fortune in this upbringing nor had I recognized the fortune in my "Mount Vernon bat mitzvah". During this coming-of-age, I realized I was different: why did my classmates gasp when I said I was from Mount Vernon but gawked when I said I was first-generation Brazilian? Throughout my years in private school, I have been ever mobilized to not squander this fortune, to utilize the diverse perspective I gained from my elementary school, to take the gawks as well as the gasps as they come, and to prove anyone can have a private education while also trying to improve public ones. I am fortunate not simply because of the schooling I have received these years, but also because I recognized not everyone is "doing it" but everyone is worth the cost, and anyone should be able to "splurge" on that place in the city but no one should be required to because of their own community's circumstances. Education is not a rite of passage, but a right.

~ Bella Coelho