So…I received a failing grade for day 1 of the Guatemala experience. In fact, I didn’t even make it there.

After successfully navigating a border crossing into Tijuana and onto my first flight, things were looking good. I even made huge progress on my required reading “Silence on the Mountain,” by Daniel Wilkinson. We arrived in Mexico City as scheduled, and I even located my next gate ahead of time. Making the assumption that I could approach the gate for the following flight 30 minutes in advance, I located, purchased, and enjoyed a delectable bowl of tortilla soup. It was creamy, just the right temperature, and even garnished with charred chiles. After paying the bill, I headed across the hallway to my gate.

“Lo siento, senor, su vuelo ya lo dejo, perdio su vuelo.”

I missed my flight? What? But the plane wouldn’t leave for another 25- 30 minutes! I made some sense of the explanation, learning that all passengers for this flight showed up three hours early and had already been bused to the tarmack. What now?

The answers to “What now?” were not good. In fact, they brought a grown man to tears in public. No thanks to AeroMexico’s TERRIBLE flight policies, here were the answers:

• Spend over an hour locating your baggage that was left behind.
• Pay $200 as a penalty for missing your flight.
• Have your return flights from Guatemala voided.
• Be offered, then turn down a $600 flight into Guatemala the next afternoon- which cost slightly more than the first class tickets hunted for and purchased for the entire trip, months ago.
• Travel back and forth between terminals, on a sky train, trying to book a flight out by nightfall.
• Have your incredible wife on the phone most of her afternoon, working to book flights, dispute charges.
• Miss the first day of Spanish 4 Educators programming in Guatemala.
• Give up. Pay penalties. Book a next day flight for $318 with another carrier.
• Find a hotel. Get a shuttle. Find a bed by 11:00 PM.

Fresh Perspective

Now that I have gotten a good night’s rest, a lukewarm shower, and a little bit of drip coffee, I have a new perspective. If I were on the Amazing Race, I would be out. If I were centrally focused on seeing Latin America “on a shoe string,” I would have to abandon the cause. If I were graded on my ability to navigate a stressful situation in Spanish, I would not have gotten a passing grade.

When I remember why I really left home for Guatemala, I may be getting exactly what I was after. Literally in a single moment, at gate 75A in the Mexico City airport, I experienced pieces of the reality many of my students face every single day.

• I lost privilege. I went from “first class passenger” to “man without a seat or a plan.”
• I experienced disorientation in a new environment.
• I was forced to use my budding language skill in emotionally heightened conversations.
• The kindness of people who helped me along with way, had an augmented impact on my spirit.
• Despite my best efforts, I felt defeated.

That said, I want to remind myself of a few things: 1) I am safe. A kind Columbian man highly discouraged my idea of taking the last leg of the journey by bus into Guatemala. Avoid cartels at all cost. 2) When we can solve our problems with money, our challenges are not as serious as they feel in the moment. This was not disease, or prison, or tragedy. Hard, yes. Tragic, no. 3) I have an incredible wife. 4) It’s the journey, not the destination. With some distance, and a safe landing in Guatemala later today, I am going to appreciate this recent episode even more. In the words of my team leader, “These things happen sometimes in the exciting world of international travel.”

I just hope to get a passing grade today!

A trusted staff member was the first to hear of the conscience bending, gut wrenching details that illustrate the northbound journeys of our newest students.  Soon enough, the whole country would read about it in the news. Reports emerged covering the shocking realities of children, separated from families and detained in cages well beyond 72 hours.  

“Hace frio!  Hace frio!” A newly enrolled first grader described the cranked up air conditioning of the detention centers that made it hard to rest.  

“Nuestras mantas eran como papel de aluminio.”  Maria shared, the blankets were like aluminum foil.  The children huddled together on the concrete, like litters of puppies, to share warmth.

“Estuvimos allí mucho tiempo.”  She felt like she was in the detention center for a long time.

Then, within days, she found herself sitting upright in a rigorous first grade classroom.  New words, both academic and conversational, whizzed by like camionetas (“chicken busses”) from back home.  There were new rhythms and routines to learn including breakfast in the classroom, guided reading groups, recess, and number talks. It felt like another planet to Maria.  But this was life en “los estados unidos.”

I am going to Guatemala, to see more clearly the reality of our newest families (including strengths, beliefs, cultural practices, hopes, and lived experiences).

Why were they willing to go through all of that? What is it like in their towns and pueblos that whole families would leave by foot, for good? How deeply will children and students be impacted by the arduous journey, senseless separations and lengthy detentions? And how might we welcome, create space, and support this particular wave of new immigrants in our schools?  Who will be their “safe people?” How long will they be with us?

These are not hypothetical questions for our learning community.  

Over the last school year, our school has welcomed over thirty students, originally from Guatemala. They join an exceptionally beautiful and diverse student body; 56.6% of our students identify as Hispanic. 46.6% of them are emerging bilinguals (referred to in most schools as English Learners). No matter how unforgiving their journey was. No matter how steep their climb towards academic success will be. Regardless of their citizenship or legal status in the moment. These kids are our kids.  

I want to be bilingual.

This year we had 42 students become bilingual, mastering reading, writing, speaking and listening with English as a second language. I figure that if our students can do it, then so can I.

Multiple times a day, I get the chance to connect with parents at our school. Many of them speak Spanish fluently, but do not yet have the skills to navigate our community. I want to be able to connect with them, hear their hopes for their children, and capture their best thinking for the good of the school.

I want to lead the charge towards cultural competence.

Sure, we have a culture fair. It highlights diverse cultures represented in our student body.  Whole classrooms learn about those cultures and traditions. Students perform dances and sing songs. Parents jockey for position to get the best photos.

But is this the highest level of cultural competence? I would argue not.

How might our school be a place that welcomes all families, pronounces our cultural differences, elicits participation of all, and celebrates their successes?

I am looking forward to reconnecting with my deepest leadership motivations. I am a school leader that exists to see teams realize equitable learning results for students.  English Learners (ELs) have long been a vexing subgroup. Notably, research tells us that it takes about five years for learners to reach their full linguistic development. But other formidable factors contribute to the historical underperformance of this group of students. I’m looking forward to a) spending time in their shoes- as a second language learner and b) thinking through additional supports that we may be able to provide as they take on a new and challenging language. I lead, in part, to generate and implement creative solutions to the pressing challenges our community faces. This particular challenge demands our best thinking, our deepest empathy, and our persistent efforts. 

For this school leader, it starts with a 9;30 am flight out of Tijuana tomorrow morning, bound for Guatemala.

Follow my learning and experiences here and on twitter: @JustinMPhillips Stay tuned for upcoming post: Why I Really Went to Guatemala