The Name Game

We have reached week six of classes and I feel less like a stranger here. I have established a level of comfortability with my students and, in return, I believe they have become less skeptical of me. I think back to when I first arrived... I was very dedicated to learning every student's name. I felt this was the first step I needed to take in order to begin to discover who they were. This proved very difficult as I took attendance my first week and realized there are three Joel's in one class, a John, Johny and Johnathan in the next, and Diana and Dayana and Jenny and Jennifer in another, along with many other indigenous names I couldn't even begin to pronounce.

Now, as I call roll and look up to meet the faces of these beautiful children, I no longer identify them by the sound I make with my lips, but, rather, I feel their presence. Their names conjure up certain thoughts, feelings, and emotions within me and their energy gives me life.

Here are just a few examples of what I mean:

Kazandra... sassy yet caring
         Nancy... kind and quiet
                  Odalys... opinionated but loving
                             Erika... tom-boy yet creative
                                    Miguel Christian... flirtatious but genuine
                                                   Alexander.... mischievous but joyful
                                                               Edison... meticulous and sincere
                                                                         Bryan... difficult yet compassionate

Just as I am now able to call them each by name, my students call my name and it means something to them. I am no longer identified by my blue eyes and white skin, but, rather, by the personal relationships I share with each student here at CMT. Señorita Estefy, I am sure, evokes a wide array of emotions, both good and bad, among students, but it also evokes a wide array of emotions with me.

Prior to CMT, I was a student,
                                a collegiate athlete,
                                           the littlest sister,
                                                   a grieving daughter...

But now I have become a foreigner,
                                a teacher and counselor,
                                           a big sister and mother...

This shift in roles happened quite naturally, but as I reflect every evening, sometimes I feel so out of character. The Stephanie of the U.S. seems to be a very different person when compared to the Estefy of Ecuador. What a blesssing it is to discover my Truest Self among the people of El Centro de Muchacho Trabajador.