When Hurricane Harvey swept Houston’s Bay Area, I didn’t lose everything, but the storm unsettled me. Returning to class two weeks later, I faced students carrying grief far heavier than mine. Had I suffered a major loss like so many others, maybe the words would come easier. Monday couldn’t just be about economics—it had to be about steady ground and hope.
In 1979, I was caught in a flood that forced me to abandon my car and wade through the dark toward safety. I didn’t realize it at the time, but the confusion and fear of that night would echo decades later in the classroom. Teaching through the pandemic carried the same weight—sudden changes, no clear path, and the need to lean on others. We Survived and Grew During the summer of 1979, a torrential downpour fell on my hometown. In what seemed like no time, flood waters engorged most of the surrounding streets. Instead of staying in the safe, relatively … Read more