A view of the world in which people see themselves connected to the global community and assume a sense of responsibility to its members. It is an awareness of the inter-relatedness of all nations and peoples, and a recognition of the complexity of these relationships. Internationally-minded people appreciate and value the diversity of cultures in the world and make an effort to learn more about them. (This definition comes from the International Baccalaureate.)

Click below to see Ramon discuss his love for his Dominican heritage and music.

Click below to see Randy.

CLICK HERE to listen to Natasha.

¡Hola! Soy Macu, una de las maestras españolas que trabaja en WIS. Reflexionar sobre lo que significa ser española para mí es un reto, ya que he pasado más de la mitad de mi vida fuera de España.

Crecer en un país con una Constitución más joven que uno mismo es motivo de reflexión. Soy parte de una de las últimas generaciones nacidas bajo la dictadura de Franco, que aprendió a vivir en democracia mientras la construíamos. Mi generación ha sido considerada una de las más preparadas en la historia de nuestro país.

Sin embargo, también nos enfrentamos al desafío del desempleo, ya que nuestros padres eran aún jóvenes para retirarse y nosotros estábamos demasiado preparados. Por ello, es natural que muchos de nosotros, al igual que generaciones anteriores, emigráramos en busca de nuevas oportunidades. Yo soy una de esas personas que descubrió que el mundo no era tan grande como parecía.

Aquí, en Estados Unidos, aprendí a identificarme con términos como "latina" o "hispana", conceptos que no entendía del todo cuando vivía en Europa. En este contexto, me encontré con amigos de países como Perú, Chile y México, quienes me enseñaron que, aunque compartimos un idioma, nuestras culturas y tradiciones son únicas, con matices propios según el país de origen.

Desde hace más de 25 años, mi curiosidad por conocer más sobre lo que nosotros aportamos a este continente sigue intacta, así como la inquietud por entender cómo se mantienen vivas las tradiciones que ya existían aquí antes de nuestra llegada.

Me esfuerzo por evitar los estereotipos: en España no nos vestimos de flamenca ni comemos paella todos los días. Tenemos una gastronomía rica y variada, así como trajes regionales propios de cada Comunidad Autónoma. A menudo pienso que España sigue siendo una gran desconocida, al igual que muchos países de Hispanoamérica. Nuestras tradiciones y culturas van mucho más allá de los estereotipos y las ideas preconcebidas que existen en este país y en el mundo.

Como maestra en WIS, siento la responsabilidad de transmitir esta diversidad cultural a las nuevas generaciones. Creo que es fundamental que nuestros estudiantes, sin importar su origen, comprendan y valoren las diferentes perspectivas y realidades que existen más allá de su entorno más cercano. La educación es una herramienta poderosa para romper barreras y construir puentes entre culturas.

English translation:

Hello! I’m Macu, one of the Spanish teachers working at WIS. Reflecting on what it means to be Spanish for me is a challenge, as I have spent more than half my life outside of Spain. 

Growing up in a country with a constitution younger than oneself is cause for reflection. I am part of one of the last generations born under Franco’s dictatorship, who learned to live in a democracy while we were building it. My generation has been considered one of the most prepared in the history of our country.

However, we also faced the challenge of unemployment, as our parents were still too young to retire, and we were overqualified. Because of this, it’s natural that many of us, like previous generations, emigrated in search of new opportunities. I am one of those people who discovered that the world wasn’t as big as it seemed.

Here, in the United States, I learned to identify with terms like “Latina” or “Hispanic,” concepts I didn’t fully understand when I lived in Europe. In this context, I met friends from countries like Peru, Chile, and Mexico, who taught me that, although we share a language, our cultures and traditions are unique, with nuances specific to each country of origin.

For more than 25 years, my curiosity about learning more about what we contribute to this continent has remained intact, as has my desire to understand how the traditions that existed here before our arrival are kept alive.

I strive to avoid stereotypes: in Spain, we don’t dress in flamenco attire or eat paella every day. We have a rich and varied cuisine, as well as regional outfits unique to each Autonomous Community. I often think that Spain remains largely unknown, just like many countries in Latin America. Our traditions and cultures go far beyond the stereotypes and preconceived ideas that exist in this country and around the world.

As a teacher at WIS, I feel the responsibility to convey this cultural diversity to the new generations. I believe it’s essential that our students, regardless of their background, understand and appreciate the different perspectives and realities that exist beyond their immediate surroundings. Education is a powerful tool to break down barriers and build bridges between cultures.

Hello, WIS Community! As we celebrated LGBTQ History Month this October, I’ve spent some time reflecting on what it means to be a queer educator at WIS.

Like many in the LGBTQ+ community, I once assumed that “coming out” was a one-time event. I came out as a teenager to my close friends and family, thinking that from then on, everyone would simply know that I was a lesbian. Looking back, it’s almost funny how wrong I was. In my experience, being a queer person often involves a constant assessment of when and how it might be safe to come out to others. It’s a journey of ongoing growth and self-discovery, one that I’ve seen change dramatically over the past 20 years—for both myself and our broader culture.

My identity as a queer person is closely intertwined with my experience as an educator. Over the years, I have worked in environments where I didn’t always feel comfortable being open about my identity with colleagues or students. This was partly influenced by my experiences growing up in the 90s and early 2000s—a time when I often felt afraid of how others would react to my identity as a lesbian. I carried feelings of shame, worried that I might disappoint my family, and feared that I wouldn’t be loved or accepted for who I was. 

My fear was shaped by a culture where I rarely saw diverse representations of queer people and by workplaces where some colleagues, and even supervisors, made openly homophobic comments. I also attended schools where homophobia was common, and I often felt like the only queer student—a deeply isolating and lonely experience. For much of my life, I didn’t feel I could be my authentic self.

When I arrived at WIS in 2014, I immediately felt comfortable being open about being queer. For the first time in my career, I had multiple colleagues who were also queer and open about their identities within the community. It felt like a weight I hadn’t even realized I was carrying had been lifted, as I was surrounded and supported by my LGBTQ+ colleagues and allies.

Despite my positive experiences, many LGBTQ+ youth continue to face significant challenges. They often experience rejection, bullying, discrimination, and violence, which can lead to increased risks of mental health issues like depression, anxiety, and suicidal thoughts or attempts.

The Trevor Project's 2023 U.S. National Survey on the Mental Health of LGBTQ Young People revealed that nearly a third of LGBTQ youth reported poor mental health due to anti-LGBTQ+ policies and legislation, while 41% seriously considered suicide. These rates are even higher for transgender, nonbinary, and LGBTQ people of color. Additionally, in 2024 alone, over 500 anti-LGBTQ+ bills have been proposed or enacted across the country, according to the ACLU. Many of these bills target LGBTQ+ youth and school curricula. 

I feel a deep sense of responsibility and purpose in creating inclusive and affirming spaces for all students. Based on my experiences, I want to foster a sense of belonging, empathy, understanding, and respect for difference in the classroom. It is important to me to serve as a visible role model for LGBTQ+ students who might not see themselves reflected in the school environment. 

Soon after arriving at WIS, I was approached by students to sponsor a Middle School Pride Alliance. Students in the group were passionate about raising awareness of LGBTQ+ issues and identities. They raised funds for the Trevor Project, a non-profit organization providing 24/7 crisis support, research, and advocacy for LGBTQ+ youth. We also collaborated with Research and Media Specialist, Lauren Olson, to curate a display of LGBTQ+ books for the WIS community. More recently, I've co-led the Middle School LGBTQ+ Pride Affinity Group. Additionally, I believe it's crucial to foster inclusive spaces for LGBTQ+ faculty and staff to connect with one another.

Looking ahead, I am dedicated to helping students appreciate the value of diverse voices and experiences, especially those that have historically been underrepresented. Teaching journalism and digital media arts offers daily opportunities to challenge stereotypes, broaden perspectives, and meaningfully integrate discussions of identity, diversity, and history into our curriculum. I am grateful that WIS fosters a supportive environment where I can be my authentic self, and I am committed to creating a space where all students feel encouraged to do the same.

Native American Heritage Month is observed in November in appreciation of the culture, traditions, and achievements of the nation's original inhabitants and of their descendants. 

My name is Amy Yoshiko Luhaupua Tong-Meisels. I am Native Hawaiian and I am an Indigenous person because my ancestors are the original inhabitants of the Hawaiian Islands.

I have a unique perspective because I understand what it means to be Indigenous and exist on the lands of my ancestors. It's hard to explain the feeling that I get when I am home in Hawai'i. It just feels right. I don't get that feeling anywhere else in the world. Sometimes people feel at home with their family no matter where they are in the world; people might feel at home in a house, neighborhood, or town, or people may also feel at home in a community like WIS. For me, it is the “'āina” (land) in Hawaii that I feel rooted in and a place that I feel connected to no matter where I am in the world. I know my ancestors roamed the Hawaiian islands and I am here because of them. Because I am Native Hawaiian, we were taught to respect and care for the “'āina” which includes “wai” (water) and all living things within. “ʻĀina” also means “that which feeds” and the Native Hawaiian worldview includes a reciprocal and familial relationship between people and the āina and their resources (Trust for Public Land). With the āina at the center of one's life, the āina is considered to be an elevated part of one's family.

I also have the perspective that I am on land from which I am not from. I am a visitor in a place (Washington, DC) that was once stewarded by the Nacotchtank and Piscataway people. While I am not Nacotchtank or Piscataway, I feel an affinity for the loss of their lands and I feel a sense of respect for those who were here before us. Like many Indigenous peoples, these tribes were displaced and disconnected from their land. They faced genocide, discrimination, mistreatment, and adversity while trying to keep their cultures and languages ​​alive. When thinking about land acknowledgment, it is always in my thoughts that I am benefiting from the Indigenous people that were here well before colonization and the development of the United States as a nation. 

Some of the most important things to me about being an Indigenous person are self-determination, pride, and resilience.  

I find strength and community in the Native Hawaiian continued protest of the TMT (Thirty Meter Telescope) development on Mauna Kea in Hawai'i (since 2014). Most people understand the concept of “hallowed grounds;” The land and water are all sacred to Native Hawaiians but Mauna Kea is the most sacred of places. The TMT was yet another development on Mauna Kea that would contribute to the pollution and trash on the sacred slopes of Mauna Kea and many Hawaiians said “no more” and protested the further destruction to the environment there.  

I found strength and resilience in the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe and many Native American tribes that protested the Dakota Access Pipeline (DAPL) in 2016. Despite the tremendous odds they faced, many Native Americans joined the fight against the DAPL as the land the pipeline goes through is on sovereign Sioux Territory land. This pipeline path violated Article II of the Treaty of Laramie (1868), the treaty that gave “absolute and undisturbed use and occupation” of the Sioux on the Great Sioux Territory. They brought environmental conservation, land and water rights, and Indigenous rights to the forefront of the nation and the world. 

I find strength in and admiration of the Indigenous students from eight Pacific Island countries from the University of the South Pacific School of Law in Vanuatu, who went to the United Nations (UN) to seek climate justice for their countries which are at the forefront of the consequences of climate change. Sinking islands, flooding, infiltration of saltwater into the freshwater/drinking water, and an increase in destructive hurricanes are too much for small island nations to bear. On March 29, 2023, the UN General Assembly, co-sponsored by 130 countries, set forth a resolution for the Court of International Justice to determine the legal obligations of countries who are the biggest contributors of greenhouse gases and biggest contributors to climate change.

I also find strength and passion in the Māori, Indigenous people of New Zealand. On November 14, 2024, New Zealand MP Hana-Rawhiti Maipi-Clarke protested the Treaty Principles Bill in the New Zealand parliament by performing the haka, which resulted in the parliamentary session being halted. This controversial bill is widely opposed by the Māori people because it would redefine the Treaty of Waitangi and provide some protections for Māori rights in the treaty. This treaty was established in 1840 between the British crown and Māori chiefs to protect certain Māori land and cultural rights and gave equal citizenship for the Māori when the British established New Zealand as a British colony (until New Zealand's independence from the United Kingdom in 1907). 

While Indigenous rights are still being infringed upon, it is the Indigenous peoples of the Earth who are still fighting to protect the land, water, air, environment, and living things, all things that give us life. Many organizations and governments are looking at Indigenous practices to combat climate change. Practices that center sustainability, land and water conservation, and climate-enduring practices with drought tolerant crops and farming, aquatic fisheries, and dry forest management, are just a few examples of Indigenous ingenuity that has lasted the test of time. 

International-mindedness is part of the WIS mission statement and at first glance looks outward globally. I believe it can also mean that we can look inward at our origins, because Indigenous peoples value and cherish the land that they are from. But their sentiment reaches outside of today's boundaries of nations in that we can also act to benefit the Earth, and in turn this will benefit other people and living things.

This month and every month, take moments to appreciate the Indigenous peoples of the world, especially Native Americans. They are the original peoples of where most of us live in the USA. Their foundational belief of balance and harmony with the Earth was and is a way of life and is a great approach to adopt. If you take care of the Earth, it will take care of you.

'Ua Mau ke Ea o ka ʻĀina i ka Pono
-The life of the land is perpetuated in righteousness. 
King Kamehameha III, 1843