It's Been A While

An accountant.
In Zamboanga, Philippines
40 years ago
Papang gave the land he earned,
the land he owned,
so kids living off the fruits of the land
could have access to education,
so they could have the choice of
what they wanted to be when they grew up.
Papang taught me the importance of
acccess.

I come from a family of educators.
I am the only teacher in my family.

An operating room nurse.
Mom worked 12 hour days over open bodies
on operating room tables.
Her job was to fix people,
A job that didn't end when she came home.
She said, turning off the TV,
"Why are you watching TV?
Do you have straight As?
Then you could be reading a book."
I learned to love reading,
reading her bedtime stories
because she was so tired,
raising four kids on her own
while Dad was overseas.
She taught me that idle time was wasted time.

I come from a family of educators.
I am the only teacher in my family.

A retired Navy officer. A maintenance man at the Berkeley post office.
My dad was gone six months at a time overseas,
supporitng his family from far away.
His gifts to me when he returned were paper.
He gave me my imagination.
He taught me I could write or draw my way
into any world I wanted.
He taught me the diginity of objects.

I come from a family of educators.
I am the only teacher in my family.

A nurse. Yes, another one.
Ate lived 3,000 miles away
from her husband for 270 days
to give 24 hour care to my dying brother.
She saved his life on an airplane once.
She taught me the meaning of love.

I come from a family of educators.
I am the only teacher in my family.

My sister and I pretended we were Wonderwoman
in our Wonderwoman Underoos.
She beat up people in mosh pits
to keep me from being hurt.
She was the girl that the boys at school
always gawked at.
She applied to medical school and didn't get in,
Called me crying asking, "Why am I doing this?"
She got in, studied 16 hours a day,
became chief resident,
made it to the faculty at Georgetown.
She taught me to kick open doors for yourself
because no one will open them for you.

I come from a family of educators.
I am the only teacher in my family.

A financial advisor, father, husband,
my brother, who in his last days on earth,
in a fog of morphine
could call each teacher by name form kindergarten
through high school,
told me during chemo
that this cancer messed with the wrong brother.
He told me, "I am not afraid to die."
In his last breaths, he closed his eyes,
and said, "I am blessed."
He taught me that life is a luxury.
He taught me humility in my daily complaints.

I come from a family of educators.
I am NOT the only teacher in my family.