Did You Hear That? A Day in the Life of Ms. Peek

4:57 AM | morning glory

The alarm clock rings and my feet hit the floor before my eyes open, scrambling to turn off the alarm before waking a housemate. After pole vaulting out of bed, the day begins with breakfast, coffee, and greeting housemates who make the arduous journey from bed before 6 a.m. The sun starts to think about peeking over the horizon while I juggle coffee, a lunchbox, and an oversized teacher bag into the car. This is where our day begins.

Entering into a new community can be an intimidating experience. But sitting in ACE Chaplain Father Joe Carey’s family room at the beginning of the year, I felt at home with the other ACE Interns as we talked about our discernment processes. Talking to FJ, surrounded by my incredible classmates and ACE community leaders—some I knew and some I had just met— we all laughed, listened, and spoke with one another as if we had been long-time friends. I vividly remember feeling so profoundly struck by each person’s vocational journey that guided them to say “yes” to ACE. Inspired by that night and the passionate responses of my ACE community members, I came up with the seven (my lucky number) reasons, factors, and motivators that guided my vocational discernment:

I often lament the hardships the we face as educators, complaining to housemates or anyone who will listen, and too infrequently acknowledge the resilience of my students. One student in particular, John, a sixth-grade student at Holy Trinity, displays his perseverance despite his circumstances.

One of my first memories of Plaquemine, Louisiana, was the day after I arrived. My community and I decided to go to Mass at the local church, and I remember a feeling of discomfort coming over me as we walked in. Here we were, strangers in an already tight-knit community, and the stares of the parishioners reminded me of that fact. When Mass ended, a middle-aged couple in front of us turned around and asked, “Are y’all the new ACE teachers?” Our cover was blown! In a town where everyone knew everyone, I suppose it was an easy assumption, but what followed felt like the love of Christ shining through this special place.

I must admit that I’ve always struggled with being humble. That’s why there’s nothing quite like a good shot to the ego. 

During my second ACE summer, I heard a lot of stories from ACE grads about the second-year teaching experience. Maybe it was because I asked more questions, or maybe it was because these seasoned ACErs saw the curiosity in my eyes and were more than willing to offer a few pieces of advice to an eager almost-second-year teacher.

During my sophomore year of high school, I first heard the call to serve. Ms. McGuire, my literature teacher at Bishop Kelley High School in Tulsa, Oklahoma, asked the class to pick a dream job. For some reason, my response was “teacher.”

Returning to my school after my second ACE summer felt like how I imagined Lucy felt when she returned to Narnia through the wardrobe after trying to relay her experiences to her siblings to no avail in The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis. Ascension Catholic High School was a place where I experienced exciting and difficult things, where I forged relationships with people most of my friends and family were likely never going to meet, and where my worldview changed profoundly.

ACE Teaching Fellows graduate Luke Janicki (ACE 22 - Peoria) offers a two-part reflection on his experiences in the classroom and how he used his Spanish speaking skills to create connections in the broader school community. Part one is below.

Photo Credit: Andrew Hamaty

Morning light puddles on the moss-covered stones of the Grotto of Our Lady of Lourdes. My breath, after my run, slows and my knees find the kneeler, recently wet with dew. I imitate Saint Bernadette and gaze up at Our Lady. From her perch among the stones, she seems to look right at me, expectantly.

Sometimes, as teachers, we spend too much time talking. Sometimes, we worry so much about transmitting our knowledge to our students, that we forget about the art of listening. We forget that it is not our voices that matter most in our classrooms, but those of our students. We seek so desperately to be heard, when in reality, it is our job to hear, to make our students feel known and acknowledged.

Four people stand in ready position on South Quad. Their knees are slightly bent, their eyes trained on the yellow ball as it bounces neatly off the circular net in the grass. It’s twilight on Notre Dame’s campus—fireflies have already started to congregate on the lawn—but for these four players, the rest of the world has melted away. For 20 minutes, they are not graduate students or instructors or administrators. All that matters is the net, the ball, and the next move. All that matters is Spikeball.

I stepped out of Dillon Chapel, carefully cradling the paper lantern I held in my arms. I felt the the heavy, humid South Bend summer air descend, and my eyes adjusted to the darkness that had settled on South Quad during Mass. In the warm, electric glow of Praise and Worship, I had forgotten just how late it was–11:30 p.m., to be exact. It was the last night of the summer that the small group, spearheaded by songbirds David Chang and Rocielle Perez, had stayed after daily Mass to sing and pray. For our final meeting, we were writing our prayer requests on luminaries and, together, floating them into the sky at McGlinn Field.

Walking into Accepted Applicants Night for ACE 24, I am not sure what I expected. I did feel one thing for certain–a slight sense of trepidation. I received an email a week earlier from my principal at Holy Names High School in Oakland, California, so I knew where I would be living, but a huge piece was still missing. Who exactly would be living with me? Who are my community members? Will they be down for random Hamilton jam sessions at odd hours of the day? Will they be willing to look at countless pictures of my baby niece and still feign interest every time? Are they nervous like I am? Did they have to look up where exactly in California Oakland is like I did? Do they love board games? Are they coffee or tea people?

Something was different as we walked into Dr. Collier’s Social Studies Content class during that first ACE summer.