A few weeks ago, I had no intention of doing anything outside of my regular family/work duties. No meetings. No calls. Nothing. But last week, LuzMaria informed me of a special request. An elementary school on the Lower East Side of Manhattan had some student journalists who wanted to interview me about my life and work. I hesitated for a bit because I wanted to barrage her with the usual questions about budget, time, and “Why are you doing that on my birthday WHEN YOU KNOW …”

I set that all aside and said, “OK, I’ll do it.” A few days later, I got a Zoom link. Magic.

For context, I also felt like the universe needed me to take a break. Before January 24th, I had done six interviews in six days, skipped Saturday, and then did four more on Sunday. Not only that, but I learned that Jossette Burgos – one of my Syracuse University mentors – had passed away due to health complications shortly after those Sunday interviews. The constant need to press forward even amidst mourning is partly a function of internalized capitalism, but also my Caribbean background, priding ourselves on having multiple – and unsustainable – jobs.

As I recalled Josie’s unwavering commitment to students like me, even in times when I knew her work had dried out her cup, she kept filling ours. I don’t remember her closing her corner office to me and so many others. I carry that example to this day.

By the time Wednesday came around, I got my computer ready. Spongebob Zoom background. Perfect lighting. A big cup of water. A heart full from conversations and birthday messages. When I logged in, I saw a beautiful mix of children sitting on the classroom floor, many of whom gasped and jumped when I saw my rectangle come on screen. I turned on my camera and thanked everyone for welcoming me and interviewing me.

Every student introduced themselves and asked me good, incisive questions. Some asked me why I do the work I do. Others asked me about where I’ve been. One of the students even asked me what it was like inside The White House. Of course, I shared my screen and showed them pictures of when my family visited last Spring. But the thing most students wanted to understand is why I became an activist and how they can become activists.

Contrary to the drivel I hear from pundits and trolls alike, students have an innate sense of fairness. This feeling goes further when the environment gives them the option of acting upon it.

It took me a few seconds to answer these questions for several reasons, primarily that I don’t believe students should have to become activists. Adults need to get it together. Secondly, if I can’t explain what I do to a third grader, then am I actually that good at what I do? But I did answer and I saw some of the kids writing furiously in their notepads. I also saw teachers nodding and smiling along the way, too. These students who grew up in the neighborhood I grew up in would get the knowledge I wish I had when I was their age, and that felt like a way to pay it forward.

Here’s a list of tips I proposed to the students:

• Study the problem: Whatever the “problem” is, they should know as much about it as possible (within the time you’re given, too). They can read about it, ask other people about it, or discuss it among themselves. Before you can address the problem, you have to get clear about that problem.
• Build a team: No one – and I mean no one – does this work alone. Even the biggest activists you’ve ever seen have always found a way to gather different people together towards a common cause. Students can rely on fellow students, and if there’s a teacher or parent who agrees with you and can help, recruit them.
• Stay consistent: This might be the hardest one. Advocacy takes time and persistence, but the more you keep advocating this way, the more likely you are to achieve your goal.

Somewhere in there, they also shouted “Happy birthday!” to me. Gratitude.

As I listened to them ask questions about their work, I wondered why more journalists and thinkers didn’t take cues from how students asked questions. They definitely flipped through my website and pulled information from there, and it made their inquiry better informed. They also asked it with genuine curiosity and without too many assumptions, which helped me answer more honestly as well.

Most importantly, the interview with the 30 or so third and fourth-graders reminded me how much more credit students deserve for their intellect. Too many of the anti-truth laws we see these days presuppose that students can’t navigate the world on their own. Yes, they often need guidance. No, they don’t come tabula rasa to our classrooms. They have ways of navigating their minds that we can also cultivate when we stand back and actively listen. Even before the anti-truth laws, some adults dared to look at children who looked different from them and immediately assumed their deficiency.

As I scrolled through the White House pictures, somewhere past the pictures of the portraits, I said, “… and when one of you makes the world better, you’ll either be the President or the person meeting with the President to help us all do better.” The teachers agreed. The students said, “Me! Me! Me!”

That’s a present I’ll receive 24/7.

Jose, who can’t believe how many circles have come back in full …