Stylishly Resilient: Succeeding Without Validation

Happy Friday, guys (: It’s officially Mardi Gras season, and I can’t wait to see everyone’s Zulu looks tonight. I’m also looking forward to this mini break from work that I’m about to get. Work has been so overwhelmingly stressful lately. So much so that I haven’t been able to put my energy towards anything fashion or content related. So of course when trying to figure out what this week’s blog post was going to be focused on, the forefront of my brain gravitated to my job.

I’m a dance educator in the East Baton Rouge School System. Though I loveeeeee dance and I love being able to work with kids, my job isn’t always enjoyable. Being a teacher is tough. Me, Azha Moné, being a teacher is tough! I don’t always publicly talk about what its truly like for me. What makes it the most frustrating is that, despite my age, I’ve been in my field for over 20 years. I know dance like the back of my hand—I’ve trained, performed, and studied it my entire life. I am more than capable of doing this job, yet my intelligence is still insulted, and I’m treated like I have no clue what I’m doing. Only my closest friends and family understand what I go/ have gone through.

My first year of teaching was really rough. I was 22 years old and I didn’t look a day over 13. If you’ve ever met me in person, then you know I’m hella tiny with this soft, yet high pitched voice. My first year I was teaching at a high school and the issues I faced were not what I was expecting AT ALL. Everyone told me I would have trouble with getting the kids to listen and respect me being that I was so young and I appeared even younger, but I had no problem with that at all. My issues were with my colleagues and admin.

As someone who came from a predominantly white high school and college, I was used to having close knit relationships with the other Black people around me. I was used to us sticking together and looking out for each other. So, when I accepted this job at a predominantly black high school I was super excited. I love my people and I’m extremely passionate about our children and their education.

Being new to teaching in the public school system I thought other educators would see me and want me to be great. I thought that they would want to help me be successful being that they were once in my shoes before. I thought they would look out for me; i thought we’d look out for each other. That was very green of me and this is when I learned that it be your own people.

My first year of teaching came straight from the pits of hell; like Satan orchestrated it from beginning to end. I hated it so much. I was so misunderstood and it was god awfully, frustrating. I’m someone who likes to help others and make things easygoing for them. If there’s anything I can do to help, then I’ll offer my help, and if I don’t know how to, I’ll find someone who can. Also, my parents instilled in me to strive for excellence and do everything to my best ability. I’m detail oriented and I literally can not half-ass anything even if I tried. Well, apparently all of this combined made me look like a know-it-all and the other faculty and staff were not always kind to me. They gossiped about me with each other and to the students, some started rumors about me, and I felt like the administrators had it out for me.

There was one instance where another teacher (not of color) disrespected me in front of students by yelling at me like I was a child. I politely told them they have no right to speak to me that way, and they told me they could speak to me however they wanted. I reported it to one of the Assistant Principals and there was nothing done about it.

I never felt supported while I was there, and I didn’t feel like anyone cared about me. I couldn’t trust anyone, and being that it was my first year I didn’t know any procedures or how to go about things. There were two people on campus I thought I could trust, so I naively went to them about things I was having trouble with. Only to find out later after I was already gone that they didn’t really have my back and were only close to me just to have something to go back and say.

Even though I no longer work there, and am now in a better environment than that one, I still face emotionally taxing challenges. It’s hard showing up to a job everyday that is allot on my body and mind, and feeling like my admin doesn’t care about me or respects the work that I do. It’s hard having to be creative all day everyday for three classes a day, six classes in total, coach a dance team, all while still trying to figure out life itself. There’s no grace. It’s hard being there for everyone, and not many there for me. It’s hard doing all the work, others taking credit for it, and not giving me the smallest bit of thanks. And maybe I just need to grow up a little more, but it still doesn’t take away from how it all feels.

Working for this system is like being thrown in the water without any swimming lessons, and being chastised when you’re drowning. Doing so much and given so little. Working with so many people who are just there to collect a check, or only care about themselves and their personal glory. So many people in leadership positions but aren’t leaders. It’s hard working for a system that doesn’t care about us teachers, or the students we teach. And as I’m getting older, I realize that all of this is just life. It’s heart breaking. It’s frustrating.

When I started this blog, I said “to whom much is given, much is required.” Life throws me every which way, but I’m trying to be a good steward of all my gifts and talents and not let it overtake me. And I definitely feel like God sees me as one of his strongest soldiers. Anything you can think of, I’ve been through with this job. I’ve been lied on, disrespected, mistreated, overlooked, backstabbed, misunderstood, etc.

It’s rough being young, black, educated, multitalented, a woman, and pretty. And as narcissistic as it may sound, that is my reality – that’s why I face the challenges I face. But despite it all, I continue to do what I do and let my work speak for itself. At the end of the day, my talent, dedication, and impact will always shine through, no matter who tries to dim it.

If you’ve ever felt overlooked or undervalued at work, trust me, I get it. Let’s talk about it—drop a comment or shoot me a DM. And to anyone out there feeling unappreciated, keep pushing. Keep showing up. Keep doing what you do because real work and talent always speak for themselves. If this hit home for you, send it to someone who needs the reminder.

Stylishly yours,

Azha Moné