Celebrating the Self — Honoring Heritage — Redefining Excellence: Learning Beyond Boundaries

By Aisha Laspina-Rodriguez, Director of Communications

My first language is Spanish. It’s an important distinction; one that I rarely share.

I grew up in the South Bronx—safe in the embrace of the physical and cultural similarities with the people of the black and brown community from which I hail. I did not feel the sting of ‘otherness’ in my youth. All around me, children like me arrived from Puerto Rico—and other faraway places—to the U.S. Once here, we would become immersed in the English Language… a mad dash to assimilate for the greatest success in school and in life. Our journey was similar:

watching television only in English, our young brains working overtime to make connections between the images on the screen and the words we would hear;
listening to conversations with relatives, but unable to participate, struggling to catch a familiar word or two;
forced to speak our broken English with anyone who would cross our path, lest we invite la correa for not trying hard enough;
sitting in under-resourced classrooms where speaking one’s first language or celebrating one’s heritage was considered a distraction from the end-goal: demonstrating how much English we could learn in a short span of time;
dropped into a new culture, with no pause to retain our roots… to celebrate who we are and where we come from.

I very quickly forgot how to speak my language. How to read and write Spanish. I forgot the stories of my people. Of the Puerto Rican nationalists who gave their lives and their freedom for independence, not yet won. Of the ongoing struggles of the people I left behind. I forgot to connect with my relatives still living on la isla. Piece by piece, I lost the connection to ‘home’ and gained success in learning a new language. I lost too much.

The classroom was a safe space, but not my safe place. It is where I learned about American history via torn and scantily available schoolbooks. It is where I lost myself.

As I grew, I struggled to relearn my first language. I challenged myself—and failed—to retain the Puerto Rican history written in the books I scoured from my Uncle’s personal library. Books he had written himself about his life, from young struggles to activism. Books and articles about my estranged grandfather, a well-respected Puerto Rican nationalist in the Puerto Rican movement for la independencia.

How can I have forgotten so much? My family—the Laspinas from Ponce and Villalba, Puerto Rico, hailing from the mountains of Tibes—fought so hard throughout recent history in support of our culture and of our home. My paternal grandfather—who passed away just weeks ago—will be forever celebrated by those who know his story and closely follow the movement. I cannot tell you his story, because there was no room for both my Puerto Rican heritage and my American life… it was a part of the ‘me’ I lost.

To create the most opportunity for a new generation, my family unknowingly stopped sharing their knowledge of our rich history with the youngest generation… unwittingly ensuring that we would lose what little remains as our elders pass on.

As an adult, I am ashamed for letting go of so much, and for not making more effort to study my history, to retain my culture, to practice my language until I am as fluent and comfortable in speaking Spanish as I am in speaking English.

My personal experience highlights for me important questions: Why must BIPOC communities (Black, Indigenous, and people of color)—in an effort to succeed in a society where the odds are stacked against us—let go of parts of ourselves to make room for success in our classrooms and in our society? What happens when we aren’t encouraged to preserve who we are at our core? … To celebrate and share our culture? … What happens when we are not empowered to be our own champion? What damage does that do to our emerging adults?

Together with allies, today’s youth are advocating for an inclusive education. Communities are working to inject diverse perspectives into life and into curriculum. People are uniting across generational groups to learn more and be better, together. There is so much work to do, and we’re tackling these problems brick by social justice brick.

My career is a carefully stitched quilt of social impact and activism. Of education and of the young people of New York. Moved by telling the stories of the growth of our young people, I worked in a nonprofit focused on empowering the ‘leaders of tomorrow’—mobilizing audiences to make a difference in our most disadvantaged communities, drawing parallels to racial and gender injustice, and educating people about intersectionality. I volunteered as a mentor paired with young Bronx women navigating their high school careers and helping to prepare them for their first year in higher education, most of whom are first-generation college students. And so it should come as no surprise in my new opportunity at Hackley School that I am moved by the diversity, equity, inclusion, and belonging efforts in support of the school’s strategic plan, Redefining Excellence: Learning Beyond Boundaries. More specifically, I am in awe of the team of DEI coordinators working day-by-day to honor, among many initiatives, Heritage celebrations.

At Hackley School, differences are celebrated. Often, I awake to an inbox filled with resources of the week—each email written to provide information on important monthly heritage celebrations and observances, and age-appropriate materials to share with students across divisions. The information frequently includes links to professional development webinars ensuring growth in the adult community. Classrooms come alive daily with conversations about people, places, history, heritage… all people, young and old, explore various cultures together, forming a more socially aware and responsible community.

The school is not perfect. But today’s Hackley is making strides to be a better school by honoring varying perspectives and experiences, by injecting unfiltered history into curriculum, by providing the space for kids to be themselves, while strengthening how and what is taught. Today’s Hackley empowers the community to speak their truth, creating change for generations to come. Our youth are empowered. And it’s a point of admiration for me, even in my short time here.

In the months since I arrived on the Hilltop, I have witnessed the warmth of the community. I have observed the drive to support a more inclusive and diverse student and staff body. And I am encouraged by the community’s focus on awareness initiatives and enhancing a sense of belonging on campus. I have benefitted from this spirit. I have been made to feel welcome here. And while I can sense my ‘otherness,’ I know that the people of Hackley want and work to make change for me, for the students, for the faculty and staff, for others like me.

As I compare what I see at Hackley with my own childhood experience, I cannot help but feel saddened by an opportunity lost then… and excited to see that this group of young people on the Hilltop, and the ones that follow, will not lose their sense of self because of culture loss. They will not face learning in a vacuum, because they are growing in a space and time where people are celebrated for their unique perspectives and experiences. Where culture is celebrated and explored with growing respect. And perhaps this also means that these young people, ‘growing in character and accomplishment,’ are emerging change leaders eradicating imposter syndrome and creating the equity and change today’s world demands.

(This article was written for and published in our blog Hackley Perspectives.)