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From The Field

Four Rio Grande Valley corps members— all former students of Anne Sung (R.G.V. '00)—reflect on the rewards of teaching in
their hometown.
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Coming Home

Four students of alumna Anne Sung joined Teach For America's 2008 R.G.V. corps. Here are their reflections about returning to teach in the Valley they call home

Kevin Hartnett (N.Y.C. '03)

innovatorA fundamental law of physics is Newton's discovery that in order for the motion of an object to change, a force must act upon it. It is a concept Anne Sung (R.G.V. '00), who holds a master's in physics from Harvard, knows well. Sung spent her corps years teaching AP physics at Edcouch-Elsa High School in the Rio Grande Valley and undeniably changed the paths of her students' lives. Remarkably, four of her students—Julia Arlene Alvarez, Marco Martinez, Tania Torres, and Melinda Valdez—went on to graduate from top universities and, in 2008, returned to the R.G.V. as corps members.

"Ms. Sung was one of the first teachers I had who was from out of town, but her commitment to the community and education was awe-inspiring," says Alvarez, who now teaches fifth grade and credits Sung with suggesting she return to teach in the Valley.

Back at Harvard and expecting to earn two master's in public policy and in divinity in June, Sung was excited to hear about her students' homecoming. "They're all exceptional individuals," she says. Even the ones who gave her a hard time in class. "Now that I look back, I was probably one of the more uncooperative students she had," Martinez jokes. "But in the long run, her relentlessness—to use TFA slang—did me well. Ms. Sung never gave up on me. Ever."

The Science of Giving Back
Melinda Valdez 10th and 11th grade chemistry

I like things that are logical and solving tough problems, so I've always enjoyed my science and math classes best. I didn't know what to expect when I took Ms. Sung's physics pre-AP class in high school. Physics is difficult, but Ms. Sung held me to high expectations. She used real examples of things we could relate to, and I liked the hands-on exploring we were able to do in her class. It made me love physics. After her class, I was certain I wanted to major in some type of engineering, and I was fortunate to be accepted at M.I.T., one of the best engineering schools in the country.

Freshman year at M.I.T. was the hardest for me. Maybe it was true what they said—getting to M.I.T. was easy but getting out was not. I wasn't used to the rigor and speed at which we were being taught, and I struggled with basic stoichiometry. When I went to office hours for chemistry the first week, the teaching assistant looked at me as if he questioned how I got into M.I.T. in the first place. I felt awful, but I was determined to prove that I was smart, so after studying and getting assistance from my friends, I learned stoichiometry. Still, it upset me that my classmates could do these types of problems and I couldn't do basic chemistry. I didn't understand why.

I joined Teach For America because I wanted to challenge students to reach their full potential, cultivate their love of science, and emphasize the importance of going to college. I wanted to come home to ensure that students from the Valley are prepared to take college-level courses, so that they won't feel the way I did in that TA's office.

I also believe it gives them hope. My students say how amazed they are that someone who came through Edcouch- Elsa High School could go to a college like M.I.T. and do well. I want them to know that it's possible. But that doesn't mean it's easy.

Teaching is much different than being a student. I cried when I first walked into my classroom. My lab desk was piled high with at least a foot and a half of junk. The closet floor was covered in broken glass and dried rose petals. Another closet was filled with rat feces and dirty beakers. I called up my parents and brothers, and they came to my rescue. It took a whole day to clean, but the room was ready in time for the first day of school. I came in excited and ready to teach, with goals of every student passing the final exam and wanting to go to college. After looking through the results from the diagnostic assessments, I must admit, I was slightly less optimistic. My students couldn't read graphs or work with fractions, much less identify the phases of matter. Ms. Sung made teaching look easy, but now that I was a teacher I knew I had a lot of work and planning ahead of me.

It has been difficult to do some of the labs I want to do because the gas line to the rooms was cut a few years ago, and only a few of the faucets work. There aren't enough aprons, safety goggles, and gloves. But then I remember that there is another chemistry teacher with no lab, so I make the most with what I have. I also spend as much time as I can helping my students before and after school. Now, close to the end of the year, I have seen improvement in many of my students. A couple of students who told me they didn't care much for science and had failed their science courses before now want to major in science-related fields. I have one student who wants to be a registered nurse and another who wants to be a chemical engineer. With their drive and attention to detail, I have no doubt that these students will become successful adults. What amazes me is their determination to do well. At science practice one day, another teacher who also graduated from Edcouch-Elsa High School joked that after several years, our displacement was zero—meaning that we were still occupying the same space that we used to. But I'm glad to be back. I would say my return is more like a state function in thermodynamics: It is dependent of the path I took, and that has defined who I am and what I'm doing.

My Second Language
Tania Torres Seventh grade English

"Ms. Torres, why do you have that accent?" That was one of the first questions my students in Brownsville, Tex., asked me as their first-week-of-school jitters began to go away.

"Yeah, you always use fancy words, and you never speak Spanish," another said. "Where are you from?" I stood in front of my largest writing class not knowing what to say. What do you mean? I grew up here in the Rio Grande Valley just like you, I thought. Take a good look at me. I look like all of you. Of course I know Spanish—I thought that was a given. Why should I speak Spanish in the classroom? I am an English language arts teacher, after all. All this went through my mind as my students asked questions, but I didn't have an answer.

Brownsville shares a border with Mexico and is the southernmost city in Texas. Teachers, students, and families in this community embrace the richness of this shared culture. For example, our school district observes a holiday for the Charro Days Festival, a wellrespected tradition that celebrates the city's binational heritage. My students also have a deep understanding of immigration issues, which often directly affect their lives.

Yet there is also a feeling here that's difficult to describe. I felt it the moment I drove into Brownsville. Border patrols guarded the outskirts, and every conversation I heard was in Spanish. There is tension and fear here because of the recent rise in violence due in part to drug trafficking. Many of my students cross the border on a daily basis to attend school in Brownsville, which is the largest city in the Rio Grande Valley. They hardly see their parents, who work 12- to 16-hour days. Although they come to learn English and prepare for college, they can get away with speaking Spanish 100 percent of the time.

Yes, this was my Valley, but a very different one. I grew up in Edcouch-Elsa, a small town about 45 minutes west of Brownsville. E-E, as I know it, is not densely populated, and the pace of life is slow. Many of the difficult issues that my students confront on a daily basis living in a border city are foreign to me, yet they significantly affect my students' approach to life.

I knew Spanish instruction would always be a choice as a teacher in this region, but two months into the school year, my students had yet to hear me use the language. When a question was posed to me in Spanish, I would answer in English. I chose to use English because I knew my students would benefit from more exposure to it. I chose to use English because I believed that the more exposure they had, the more confident they would feel about using the language. I also wanted to introduce them to more vocabulary and encourage them to take risks as writers, staying away from simpler terms and using grade-appropriate vocabulary. So I taught every day in English.

It was not until my students brought it to my attention that I noticed how instruction solely in English was not common in my new community. My ninth-period class stared at me with perplexed expressions as I attempted to explain active and passive voice. Gilverto finally had the courage to ask me, "¿Me lo puedes explicar en Español?" (Can you please explain this in Spanish?). His request served as a catalyst for his classmates. Soon the whole class was chanting "Por favor, por favor."

They beamed with happiness as I taught the lesson in Spanish; it was as if they were proud of me. I smiled back, knowing that they understood the lesson. We established a different type of relationship that day.

Language doesn't necessarily respect borders. That is what makes the Rio Grande Valley special. There is a complex meshing of American and Mexican cultures that is reflected in my students' way of communicating.

I am genuinely happy that even though I grew up in this beautiful valley, I am still learning its subtle but meaningful differences in lifestyle and communication.

Debates on bilingualism are ongoing, but I know one thing to be true: I will do whatever it takes to help my students succeed academically. This doesn’t mean I have to use Spanish informally. But it does mean that I will value my students’ background and upbringing by respecting their language in an academic context.

As author and activist Gloria Anzaldua passionately stated in her book Borderlands: "Chicano Spanish is not incorrect, it is a living language." My students have made me appreciate their colloquialisms and their Spanglish. I now understand the richness that exists in their language. And it is my duty as their teacher to embrace and respect that.

In a Small Town, Big Dreams
Marco Martinez Fifth grade science

In the southern tip of Texas you'll find Edcouch-Elsa, a typical hole-in-the-wall border town. Or rather, as the saying around here goes: "Two small towns with one big heart." To the outsider, Edcouch-Elsa doesn't have much to offer—a grocery store, a post office, some restaurants, a park, and a handful of schools with lots of pride. But to the insider who has never left, these two small towns are the world. This was my experience growing up in E-E. I was desensitized by the poverty and academic inadequacy that surrounded me. I didn't know that more than 50 percent of Edcouch- Elsa's inhabitants were living below the poverty line and that most of the others were on the cusp. Most of the people I knew never had more than they needed; they had just enough to survive. Naïve as I was, I thought everyone lived like this.

The same can be said for the academic standards of the schools I attended. I came to realize that the good teachers were few and far between. I got the feeling that many of my instructors were in a classroom more for the paycheck and less for the students. In an area with an extremely high drop-out rate and extremely low college enrollment, I think many teachers began to believe that these statistics were permanent, and didn't feel inspired to teach. They expected and gave mediocrity. This was one of the reasons that I set my sights on the Rio Grande Valley when I was accepted by Teach For America. Coming into this new chapter in my life, I knew how helpful it would be to have my family and longtime friends close by. But I also wanted the opportunity to make a larger, more meaningful impact on the students I'd be teaching. Going into my first day, my personal goal was to get 100 percent of my students to realize that an education is the most important asset they could have, and that it is the key to bigger and better places.

Despite my roots here, my students find it difficult to believe that I grew up in E-E. Maybe it's because I don't fit their stereotype of a typical 23-year-old from the area, or perhaps the experiences I've talked about—like attending Brown University in Rhode Island—make it tough to imagine that I was just like them when I was 11. Like them, I went to every single Friday-night football game, knew the gossip about everyone within a three-mile radius, and lived in a modest house blocks away from Mario Leal Park. These shared experiences fortify the relationship that has grown between me and my students. I use these ties to build their trust, but more importantly, to remind myself to never stop believing in my kids.

As my first year of teaching comes to a close, I can only say that this has been one of the best years of my life, mainly because of the students I have had the opportunity of knowing and teaching. My biggest challenges have been trying to learn their stories, because they each have one, and trying to be a better teacher for all of them.

Despite my internal conflicts over what I could have done better, I am inspired by the small things that my students do. Like Dominique and Abigail, the inseparable duo who love to say "Hi, sir" every chance they get. Like little Jacob, who hangs out in my room between classes. Like Enrique and Cindy, who can't wait to get into Harvard, and like Fernando, who will do and say anything just to make me laugh. I have faith that all of my students will succeed beyond our year together in the fifth grade. The exciting part of teaching in my hometown is that no matter where life leads me after Teach For America, I'll always come back to Edcouch-Elsa, so I can look forward to bumping into my former students at the grocery store, the post office, or some other spot, knowing I helped them get to where they are.

Seeing Home Through Different Eyes
Julia Arlene Alvarez Fifth grade math

I have been back in the Valley for eight months, and it almost feels as if I never left. Almost. I live at home. I have lunch and dinner with my family at my grandma's house, and my drive to school is the same as it was five years ago, when I was a senior in high school.

"Teachers!"

The first time our principal Mr. Garza addressed us this year, it finally hit me. I was back at Edcouch-Elsa Middle School and sitting next to my team leader, who had been my older sister's fifth grade teacher nearly 20 years ago. She is a woman I respect greatly, and now I was going to be her colleague. At first, I doubted that I could remember all of my 138 fifth graders' names. I was terrified to be touching so many young lives in my first year of teaching.

Edcouch-Elsa graduates before me, including my cousins and my sister, had paved a path by attending some of the most prestigious universities in the country. So when I was applying to college, my family did not ask if I was going to go away, they simply asked where. With help from Ms. Sung, my AP physics teacher, I participated in Project Interphase, a seven-week summer program for accepted M.I.T. matriculants designed to help minority students make the transition to campus life. The fruits of my and Ms. Sung's hard work were evident—I tested into the second-highest physics course that summer. Although I ended up doing well, the fact that our high school had not offered calculus-based physics was a handicap. The summer nights during that first month and a half were some of the longest ever. I had so much catching up to do.

As I struggled with new material my first year, many of my classmates were treating the same courses as review. For some, like my brilliant roommate, the first year at M.I.T. was easier than their senior year in high school. I definitely missed out by not having access to some of the AP classes that my college classmates had taken.

To compensate, I sought help from my peers and took advantage of free tutoring services. I often questioned if I would be successful at M.I.T., but my doubts were usually assuaged by my family or one of my close friends from Edcouch-Elsa. I had strong ties to my family and my community, so I always had something to keep me accountable.

Overcoming the initial failures and setbacks I experienced in college has helped me now that I am teaching. Back at Edcouch-Elsa, I see the way my colleagues make the most of what we have, whether it's spending late evenings decorating our halls with motivational posters or occasionally printing copies on notebook paper. I see the dedication with which my colleagues prepare and execute their lessons and how they care for our students. Although there may be economic limitations, I am witness to our teachers' efforts to create opportunities for the youth of our community. I am a proud graduate of Edcouch-Elsa and an even prouder teacher.

Even though it is awesome to see how some of my higher-achieving students are constantly pushing themselves to do better, it is one of my struggling students, Lexie, who most often reminds me of why I am teaching. At the beginning of the year, I used to hear constant complaints: "I hate math! I mean, I like you, miss, but I HATE math!" After a recent test, Lexie walked in and, as I greeted her at the door, she looked at me and said, "You know what, miss? I heart math!" Though my drive to school may take the same amount of time that it did five years ago, I have traveled much farther to get here. There is a long way to go for my students, and I am more committed than ever to my community.