Ms. Garcia

Dear Cardinals,

I was born and raised on St. Croix, U.S. Virgin Islands. For context, at the time of the story I am about to tell you (1978), the population of the island was about 95,000 people. St. Croix is only 84 square miles, which means it is smaller than Queens, which is 109 square miles. In sum, St. Croix is a small island where everybody knows everybody—and this is both a gift and a curse.

So, I’m not sure what I was thinking when I was in the fifth grade in Ms. Garcia’s class. At St. Mary’s School, it was customary that once a test was graded by the teacher, students had to take it home to be signed by their parents and then return it to the teacher. This was great when I passed a test, but not so great when I didn’t, because a failing grade meant punishment.

One day, I took a test, failed it, and was faced with having to give it to my mother or father to sign. I didn’t want to do that, so I did what I thought was the next best thing: I forged my mother’s signature (hers was easier to copy than my dad’s). I thought I had done a good job—until the next day, when Ms. Garcia refused to accept it. Instead of admitting what I had done, I mouthed off to her, and she called my mother.

Like I said, I don’t know what I was thinking. St. Croix is not only small, but at the time my mother was also a teacher—albeit at a different school. It didn’t matter, because all the teachers knew each other.

You can probably guess how the story ended. My mom came to school and, through my tears, snot and hysterics, made me apologize to Ms. Garcia. And yes, I was punished, and when I got home, I may have even been spanked—I don’t remember. What I do remember is that this was the first and last time I ever forged her name or mouthed off to a teacher.

On a small island like St. Croix, I learned early that your choices matter, your name matters, and how you treat people matters—because relationships are important and lessons stay with you. Being part of a community means being seen, known, and held accountable—and that is not a weakness; it is a gift.

York College is a lot like that island. It’s a place where you are not invisible. Faculty notice you. Staff know your name. People care enough to correct you, support you, and sometimes make you uncomfortable so that you can grow. Growth doesn’t always feel good in the moment, but it lasts.

My message for the week is this:

Integrity is who you are when no one is watching—but community reminds you that someone always is, and that’s a good thing.

A few years ago, I was preparing to leave St. Croix-- I was actually at the airport and I saw a woman from the back and I just knew it was Ms. Garcia.  I walked up to her and it sure was.  I hadn't seen her since 1978.  Ms. Garcia, my fifth grade teacher.