Born and raised where the Steel Curtain resides along with six Super Bowl rings–Pittsburgh–where I learned to ride a bike, use my size as an advantage in paintball, properly wreck a sled, wear a helmet on an ATV, call canned carbonated beverages “pop” and that my faith is personal. Raised (Did you know “razed” is the only homonym with opposite meanings?) by an Italian mother and Polish father, we four children ate a lot.
I took a four year hiatus from life to attend a retirement community called Furman University–South Carolina–where I studied volleyball, soccer, flag football, softball, basketball, Jack in the Box, dormitory life, haunted houses, hiking, and Communication Studies–in that order. Off-campus I had the opportunity to travel to Italy, Spain, England, Honduras, Belize, and Mexico, which showed me that God is big. Like, time and space, big. Like, bigger than my head gets when someone compliments me, big. While at school I “did” Campus Outreach, attended a Beach Project in Myrtle–more cigarette butts than sand–, and forever had my personal application of Christianity changed from a belief to a lifestyle.
Post-college I knew I wanted to commit myself to a “cause.” My prerequisites for after school was that it had to be service oriented, at least a 2 year commitment, replace grad school in a sense, and put me in a position of leadership. Teach for America, here I come. (TFA places recent graduates in low-income schools around the country to, ultimately, close the achievement gap between low-achieving schools and basically every other “normal” school by making it acutely obvious what the problems are and encouraging people to dedicate, at least part of, their lives to change it.) Last year I, along with 70 of my new best friends and shared-experienced group of thousands, were challenged emotionally, physically, spiritually, mentally, and ……ally. As with most things it’s hard to explain the intricacies of this job without actually experiencing it. Let’s just say, when I encourage someone to apply I feel like I am sinning because I know they will curse my name in a matter of months, yet, it’s an experience that has altered my perspective on race, religion, culture, community, education, and equality so I can’t encourage them not to. It’s here in St. Louis that I have learned how to live out my faith and that I desperately need to rely on the Lord for strength, protection, guidance, and in choosing the right scarf to wear when it’s cold (read: everything). My time as a teacher has taught me that I can’t do it all on my own, but that’s a good thing. (That right there is more than I have probably taught my students.) This time has also taught me that I don’t want to live in Los Angeles, an area is more blessed the more mountains it has, Adventure Races are painful yet fun, I will always live near an airport, bananas taste really good after marathons, be sure to teach at an urban school the next time the first black president is elected for experience sake, professional kickball takes the fun out of a 3rd grader’s recess game, stolen car stereos don’t need to be replaced, and everyone wants to feel like they belong.
That just about hits anything interesting about me, ever. Oh, wait, I sneeze when I eat chocolate. Ok, now that’s everything. Oh, one more, I have a dry, self-deprecating and sardonic sense of humor. I think that’s it. And I accidentally put a bald spot on my own head once. Done.
