It’s November: the time of full speed ahead. The holiday break is in sight, but there seems like there’s always more to do, more decisions to be made, more work to be done, and needing to have a more focused approach. Whether you feel like huddling under a blanket in your self-sufficient pillow fort or forging ahead with the force of a bullet train, sometimes the world doesn’t give us a choice—and the only thing left to do is the next right thing. 

What that is is anybody’s guess. It will be unequivocally different for every single one of us. 

“It (neuroplasticity) refers to the physiological changes in the brain that happen as the result of our interactions with our environment. From the time the brain begins to develop in utero until the day we die, the connections among the cells in our brains reorganize in response to our changing needs. This dynamic process allows us to learn from and adapt to different experiences.” 
- Celeste Campbell (n.d.).

We’ve all played it—the waiting game. The one where the toddler asks for a treat and the grown up says wait till after dinner. The one where the ten-year-old can’t wait to stay up past bedtime when no one can say otherwise. The one when you can’t wait to get to the next level of whatever because then you can do this other thing. Oddly enough, the waiting seems like forever in the moment—yet, if you talk to any adult, as they were once that young toddler, it truly seems like five minutes. 

I grew up on Long Island, New York. Summer was and is my favourite season. For as long as I can remember, summertime meant my summer camp second home, and the moment I could drive meant any spare time spent at the beach. The ocean and sand are so much a part of me that I moved to live beside them for a decade (and later flipped coasts to relish their brilliance all year long).

What I couldn’t articulate in my early career track as a teacher was that whenever I observed environments where students of color were present, I noticed the ways that implicit bias may have been at play in their learning and school environments. For instance, bias is obvious to me in school hallways in which children are walking single file, with bubbles in their mouths, to prevent them from talking to each other. This ill-advised classroom management strategy asks kids to close their lips and puff their cheeks, as if they are holding a bubble.