How one teacher’s words continue to inspire and motivate me 28 years later.

When I was a kid, air conditioning was the holy grail. My mom would cram five kids into a beat up, faded white station wagon. Who knew white could even fade so much? When she dropped us off, instead of, I love you, or have a good day, she would simply say, “Air Conditioning.”

She would then drive off to what we would call a modern day sweatshop to sew all day. Day in, day out she sweat profusely, desperate to ensure that her children would one day be successful enough to work in an air conditioned office. This was her measure of success. Her kids would not have to work in the same poor conditions she worked in, and more importantly, her kids would not grow up to be financially dependent on an abusive spouse they could not afford to leave. My mom’s dreams for us were modest, she was too humble for audacious ambition. She didn’t say, I want them to manage the office or be CEO’s, she simply wanted us in air conditioning.

I was a shy, quiet and compliant student by nature. I rarely spoke a word, but I observed everything. As the youngest of five, by 1st grade I had learned that Parent Conference night was a big deal. Depending on what the teacher said, it could result in immense praise, gifts and even money. In my house, it could also result in violence. My father was a volcano always ready to erupt, he was also very charismatic, and my teachers never knew that their words would dictate whether this volcano of a man would erupt or remain dormant.

Now, while I was shy, quiet and compliant, I had a difficult time focusing on any one task. I was also fascinated by the kids who behaved badly or did not complete quality schoolwork. Didn’t they know that at Parent Conference night their Dad’s would find out everything?! I watched and studied them, trying to figure out what made them tick. I also watched the academically gifted kids. I wanted to ensure they didn’t finish faster than me or got a higher grade than me. I had so many academic rivals, that had no idea they were my rivals, but make no mistake, they were absolutely my rivals.

All this observing and competing led to a lot of distractions for a student who wanted, no, needed to bring home good grades. If it wasn’t for air conditioning, I would have no doubt been that kid who teachers labeled intelligent when not distracted or high achieving when focused, and the only thing my father would have heard would have been: he gets distracted and he doesn’t focus. Air Conditioning was my own internal redirective mantra. Air conditioning was my figurative fidget spinner. Air Conditioning, air conditioning, air conditioning.

Look at that kid just doodling instead of paying attention to the teacher! Who are you?! Do you really think… Air Conditioning, Air Conditioning, Air Conditioning.

Did she really finish the quiz that fast? She probably cheated? I bet she got all the answers wrong. Maybe she is just guessing, or maybe she is a genius and I will never be the smartest kid in this class. Air Conditioning, Air Conditioning, Air Conditioning.

Air Conditioning led to many successful parent conferences through Kindergarten, 1st grade and 2nd grade. After these conferences, even if there was violence at home with any of my older siblings I was spared. And then came 3rd grade.

All 5 siblings had conferences on this night, and mine was scheduled last. Mom and dad were not very happy as they sat beside me across from Ms. DeFrancesco. Quick side-note: as a 3rd grader I was certain of only one thing in this world, I was going to marry Ms. DeFrancesco. She was the most beautiful creature ever to grace this planet. I probably had to use air conditioning to stop staring at her more than any other distraction that year.

She would go on to tell my parents that in her short career, never had a 3rd grade student impressed her so much that she had asked the principal to consider skipping me a grade. Ms. DeFrancesco told them that she assigned me the writing assignments ahead of time, so that I could turn in my copy and when she assigned it to everyone else, it would hang on the wall as the exemplar. My father was so filled with pride that it no longer mattered what was said in any of the other conferences with my siblings. They all got a get out of jail free card.

On the way home my father pulled our windowless and seatless van into the KFC drive-thru and ordered a bucket of chicken, I got to pick the sides. (Mashed potatoes and Mac N’ Cheese of course, in fact if those aren’t your 1st two choices, I don’t know that we can be friends) At home, my family ate together, laughed together and was genuinely happy together. As I observed this rare night where we didn’t have to walk on eggshells, it dawned on me that I made this happen. I had done so well academically that not only was I spared violence, but my whole family was happy and safe.

Air conditioning was so deeply ingrained in me from that point on that I barely ever had to repeat the mantra aloud from that point on. Something that someone like you said about someone like me changed my life. Air conditioning stuck with me long after my father was gone and my mom struggled to raise us by herself. It got me through middle school and high school.

Air conditioning got me to graduate from USC, and eventually I became a P.E. teacher, so much for air conditioning. As my career evolved and I got better at my craft, I built stronger relationships with my students or my babies as they are still referred to, no matter how old they get, I became obsessed with guiding them to discovering their why. I needed them to tap into their own Air Conditioning, so that grit would become second nature and nothing could ever stop them from ensuring that their achievements were worthy of the sacrifices made on their behalf. That their achievements were worthy of the sacrifices made on their behalf. That’s something I believe we should all strive for.

I became so driven by this that I began to facilitate why-based professional development for my peers. Through this I was fortunate enough to be invited to deliver a keynote address about my craft and pedagogy to the The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation. It was life changing. One day I was wearing a visor in gym shorts with a whistle hanging from my neck, and the next I was sitting at a table with Melinda Gates sharing my views on the state of education. The talk was posted to youtube, and I was inundated with job offers. Consultant, school principal, dean, I was even offered the opportunity to open a school. Simply put, this was one of the most exciting, humbling and frightening times of my entire life. But every one of these opportunities required me leaving my babies before the end of the school year.

I could not imagine leaving my babies before they graduated, and yet there I was with these life-altering opportunities. I thought about how I would advise them if they came to me with this dilemma, and I realized, I had to capitalize on the opportunity of a lifetime, in the lifetime of the opportunity.

Because the school I had decided to open was less than 5 miles away, and out of gratitude for the organization I was working for, I chose not to tell them what opportunity I was pursuing. I simply communicated that when they found out what I was doing, they would understand why I left. On my last day at that school, I received over 200 letters and gifts, that to this day I keep in a bucket at my house for those days that my internal bucket needs to be refilled.

But, what I remember most about that day is what one of my babies asked me:

He said, “Mr. Trejo, I know you can’t tell us where you are going but can I ask you two questions?”

“Of course”

“Where you are going, will you have an office?”

“Well I hadn’t thought about it, but yes I will.”

“Will it have air conditioning?”

“Yes, yes it will”

“Well then,” he said, “ we are all proud of you, and I’m sure your mom is too.”

Teachers, if you ever doubt that your words matter, or that they stick, know that it has been 28 years since that parent-teacher conference and Ms. Defrancesco’s words continue to have an impact on not only me, but my school community. Today I am the head of a school where every single one of my amazing facilitators meets with every single one of their learner’s families to celebrate them, to build them up. I urge you to meet with the family of every single learner you teach, no matter how difficult it is to get 100% participation. Teaching is such a difficult job, help yourself by leveraging the most important people in your learner’s lives.

Parenting is the hardest job there is in this world and no one ever fails at it on purpose. No one is ever holding their newborn in their arms saying “One day I’m going to be completely inadequate and the reason you lash out at your teachers.” Take the time to fill their buckets and renew their sense of purpose and accomplishment. Give them credit where it is due, and no matter how extensive their growth areas, provide support to build capacity in them. Make sure the learner is there to hear the wonderful, uplifting words you communicate on their behalf.

My parents were the type of parents many teachers complain about, the parents many educators think are useless to talk to. My father was rarely present and my mother was so busy and overwhelmed that she was rarely available for teachers to connect with. Yet, that did not stop Ms. De Francesco from showering me with praise that I felt compelled to live up to. Something that someone like you said about someone like me, saved my life.

I saw my mom suffer a lot for us, so I don’t know that I will ever feel that my achievements are worthy of the sacrifices she made on my behalf, and I don’t know where you are today Ms. DeFrancesco, but wherever you are, thank you for making sure this little boy never lost his connection to air conditioning.