CARES

I was Ana’s principal for 4 years when she was in 5th–8th grade. We reconnected a few years ago, and she started babysitting my kids occasionally while finishing her degree at Berkeley. 

Last night we were talking as we prepared the kids’ dinner together. I described someone as “assertive.” She laughed: “Every time I hear that word, I think about ERES Academy. Remember how you all did that CARES thing all the time?” 

We giggled. After a few false starts, we were able to rattle off the CARES acronym together: Cooperation, Assertiveness, Responsibility, Empathy, and Self-Control.

We giggled a little more, remembering how it had been such a thing. Our school had CARES cards, CARES awards, CARES lessons, CARES behavior reflections. As the principal, I had instilled the message that these were the 5 most important qualities, and as the student, she had internalized them.

And now?

Here we were, standing in my kitchen, befuddled.  She’s a 22-year-old Latina Berkeley grad, the first in her family to attend college, who is now babysitting while trying to figure out her next steps in life. I’m a 41-year-old educator, mother of three, and wife of a husband recently diagnosed with advanced colon cancer.

I asked her: “Do you still think those are the 5 more important qualities?” She shrugged, probably not wanting to hurt my feelings. I had been such an over-the-top ambassador for those words. Like an even more awkward Leslie Knope on a character education crusade. 

“What do you think?” She asked delicately. “What would your words be now?”

I burst out laughing: “I have no idea, Ana, but it’s not these. Maybe humor? Joy? Creativity? Passion? Compassion? Love? Agency? Power?” 

Self-control certainly wouldn’t make my list today. What is self-control when your husband is in the hospital with a growing tumor and your children still need their lunches made and their books read aloud and their toenails cut? Is it cooperation when you’re desperately relying on friends and neighbors to bring meals and a Christmas tree? Would responsibility make the cut? Is that really the word to describe why sneaking off to do work projects in the hospital cafe feels so satisfying? Is that what is motivating me to write this? 

CARES were the right qualities in our contained little bubble. We were a tiny K-8 Oakland school trying our very best to excel. 97% of our students were low-income, and we were determined to achieve. We were not trying to dismantle the system: we were simply trying to win the game. Our goals were big and important: we wanted our students to learn a lot, be kind, and work together. 

I still believe in these qualities, and yet, now I want so much more for our students and our educators.  I want to go back in time. I want to tell 5th grade Ana: yes, you might need some responsibility and self-control to get your homework done and crush this test, but that is just the foundation. Let’s help you figure out your passion. What do you truly want to excel in? What is your gift that you bring to this world? You don’t have to just follow the honor-roll assembly line, checking all the boxes, doing all the right things, and hoping that you figure it out by 25. I want to tell 6th grade Ana: yes, cooperating with peers is important, but also, how can we teach you how to build and develop a great team to get real change done? I want to say to 7th grade Ana: yes, you need to learn how to be assertive to navigate this system, but you truly deserve the agency and power to transform the system itself. We need you to lead.  And, I would still tell 8th grade Ana to hold firm to empathy, but I would add belonging and connection. Those seem like the real superpowers, especially when life completely unravels you. 

CARES was catchy. It gave us a shared language and helped us teach crucial skills. But isn’t any catchy acronym inevitably futile? Is it ever possible to find the 5 words that capture an entire student body full of diverse experiences and identities? Did Ana, as a straight-A Student Council President, truly need to study self-control? Did I, as her frenetic principal, need more responsibility? No, she needed agency and leadership; and I needed to learn how to trust and share power.

 Here we are now, learning these lessons the brutal way through painful hospital visits and job applications. I wish I could tell my former self to tone it down with all the CARES chants and paraphernalia. Just look around, I would whisper back to my former self. Notice. Listen. Breathe. The emotional skills I needed to learn were always right there: I was just too busy trying to fit them into a neat little box to see it.