Host: Ana Stern

Ana Stern: [00:00:02] Welcome to The Moth Podcast. I'm Ana Stern, your host for this episode. As the senior manager of The Moth’s Education Program, one of the best parts of my job is hearing the stories of the young people we work with. Some kids come in with a million stories to tell, and others find their story throughout the course of our workshop. But however they come to The Moth, they can all end up in front of a mic, hearing the applause that thunders from the crowd once they've finished telling their tale. 

The Moth’s education program creates spaces where young people can listen, celebrate each other's voices and tell their own stories. Through crafting and sharing true personal narratives, participants gain a deeper understanding of themselves, their peers, their community and the world around them. 

In this episode, we'll be featuring two stories that come from The Moth Story Lab. If you're a high school or college student from anywhere in the country looking to tell your own story or know a kid who might be into that opportunity, stay tuned. We'll have more information on how to get involved later in the episode. 

First up, we've got Aravah Chaiken. She told this at an Education GrandSLAM in New York City, where the theme of the night was out of the blue. Here's Aravah, live at The Moth. 

[cheers and applause] 

Aravah: [00:01:16] I was entering high school at a progressive religious school. It was considered progressive, because they were mixed gender classes. I walked in on my first day with a brand-new dress that went below my knees, and a boatload of optimism. I was really excited for this school, because this was the only Jewish school in the tristate area that offered BC calculus. 

I decided, because I knew someone who did it, that I was going to take BC calculus my sophomore year. In preparation, I took algebra 2, the summer before high school. I looked at my schedule that first day, and I saw that third period on Monday was algebra 2. The school didn't know me. I didn't know them. I'm sure it would all be okay. And by Tuesday morning, I'd be in a precalculus class. 

After class, I went up to my teacher and showed him my transcript. He looked at me and he said, “It's my first day too. I don't know what I'm doing. You're going to have to go talk to the head of the math department.” In order to find the head of the math department, I had to find the math department- [audience laughter]  -which was also known as The Bunker. Located in the basement of my school, it had no windows, no natural light, just flickering halogen lights that cast everyone in a sickly pallor. The head of the math department looked at my grade in algebra 2, and then he looked at me and he told me, “We'll see after your first test.” That's a little unreasonable, but not totally unreasonable. 

I got an102 on my first test. “Wonderful.” He looked at my 102, and then he looked at me and he said, “We’ll see after your second test.” That was 102 not enough? I didn't do as well on my second test. I got a 98. [audience laughter] 

[00:03:26] He looked at my 98, and then he looked at me and he said, “It's too late in the school year. You can't take precalculus this year. I'm sorry.” I thought this was ridiculous and my mother thought this was ridiculous. So, by the end of that day, I was signed up for an online precalculus class outside of school. I should mention at this point that when someone else asked the head of the math department why I couldn't take BC calculus my sophomore year and precalculus my freshman year, he explained that they didn't have enough resources for me. They did have four boys though taking advanced math at the time, so I guess four is just the maximum. 

At the end of my freshman year of high school, I returned to The Bunker with my precalculus grade. He looked at my precalculus grade, and then he looked at me and then he looked at the A+ again and he looked at me and he said, “You know, we have this program where you can take precalculus over the summer.” I pointed to my grade and I told him, “I've already taken this class.” And he said, “No, our precalculus is different.” 

After spending that summer taking precalculus, I can testify that the unit circle is still the unit circle, no matter where you learn it. [audience laughter]  I was allowed to take BC calculus my sophomore year. For the first time in my high school math career, I really felt like I was flying. I was learning integrals. I was learning derivatives. I learned something called the Taylor series, which is really cool. It's when you have a function, and then you use derivatives to approximate that function in a series. As you add them up and you add more terms to the series, the closer and closer it approximates the function, and it's just beautiful to watch. It's also how calculators do math. 

And so, it really broke my heart a little when an older boy, who had taken BC calculus his sophomore year, came up to me and told me that maybe it wasn't such a good idea to take your sophomore year, because he got a four and I'd have to work really, really, really hard to get a five. I was not interested in taking precalculus a third time, so I continued on. 

And later on that year, a freshman boy asked me whether it was a good idea to take BC calculus my sophomore year. And after further questioning, it came out that he had actually been offered the spot and wasn't even sure whether he wanted it. 

Another freshman girl came up to me with the same question and I told her it was a fantastic idea. And if she really was interested, she should email the head of the math department. Before we both went our separate ways, me to history and he to Hebrew, she told me teasingly, “You, better get a five,” which is the highest score you can get on an AP, so I can take this class too. She was only joking. I did, in fact, get a five on the BC calculus exam- [audience cheers and applause] -maybe because I took algebra 2 twice and precalculus twice. [audience laughter] 

And I no longer attend that school. But more importantly, that freshman girl, she's taking BC calculus there as a sophomore. Thank you. 

[cheers and applause]

 

Ana Stern: [00:06:50] That was Aravah Chaiken. Aravah is a 17-year-old from New York City who enjoys math, reading and learning about cybersecurity. Her favorite author is Percival Everett, but her favorite book is Chrysanthemum by Kevin Henkes. Her favorite mathematical concept is Pascal's triangle. 

Both the stories in this episode were developed from The Moth Story Lab. It's a free program for 10 through 12 graders. If you're in New York City, it's in person. And if you're anywhere else, it's virtual. 

For eight weeks, participants build community and learn to craft their own personal narrative. It ends with a final telling, that can be open to friends and family. It's a truly special experience that helps students develop skills which are applicable everywhere from English class to college applications to making new friends. If you'd like to participate or know a young person who would, go to themoth.org/education. The deadline to sign up is September 22nd. Up next is Iris Hernandez. She told this at a Twin City StorySLAM. Here's Iris live at The Moth. 

[cheers and applause]

Iris: [00:07:56] So, in October of 2019, my parents planned a family trip to Puerto Rico. Now, I was absolutely thrilled for this opportunity. I already loved all of my Puerto Rican family in the States. So, for me, the idea of going on a trip with them, plus meeting my extended family that lived on the island was beyond thrilling. 

At my school, I'm the only Latina in my grade. I have this virtual monopoly on Hispanicness. [audience laughter] I can say a few phrases in Spanish, and show up at the potluck with some rice and beans, and the kids are like, “Wow, she's really cool.” [audience laughter] So, this going to Puerto Rico was going to be my opportunity to spread my wings, to explore my identity. 

So, fast forward a few months, and it's Christmas Eve. We've just flown in. We're unpacking at my aunt's house. I hear my parents talking about a Christmas Eve party that's happening that night, or Nochebuena, which, if you don't know, is a Puerto Rican festivity that culminates all the hard work of the year into a night of festivity. 

So, as soon as I hear that this party is happening, I grab my party dress, I grab my makeup, and I run to the bathroom, slam the door and I start getting ready. Now, I am going the full nine yards. I have penciled in my eyebrows. I am doing dark eyeshadow. There is rouge. There is a red lip. The waterline is perfect. [audience laughter] My party dress is this little knee length, flowy number covered in huge toucans across the front, which I thought was very apropos for Puerto Rico. So, as I'm putting the finishing touches on my look, I hear the doorbell ring. I hear people start to enter, talking to each other, snatches of conversation. I hear the music start playing. I'm hearing bomba, plena. 

So, I open the bathroom door a little bit, and I peer out and I am floored to see how many people manage to pack themselves into that tiny living room. So, I take a deep breath, and I open the door all the way and I strut my way down the hallway. I'm looking for a particular cousin that I've heard of from my parents. I know that she's around my age, and we both like theater, and I think, “Great, we're going to hit it off.” 

So, I'm squeezing my way between the crowds. I make eye contact with her. I smile and start walking towards her. She smiles back at me, and she opens her mouth and starts speaking in rapid fire Spanish. I just stare at her with my mouth open. Because somehow throughout the entire process of preparing for this trip, I had forgotten the important fact that my family in Puerto Rico would speak Spanish. Like, Spanish-Spanish. I got like prima and Navidad and hola. But nothing that was going to give me any actual clue to what she was saying to me. So, I collect myself and I go, “[Spanish language],” and I run back into the hallway. 

I immediately whirl around and crash into my mom, who's coming out of the back bedroom. When she looks at my face, she can see that something is wrong, because the perfect waterline from before has mighty migrated to somewhere slightly north of my nostrils. So, of course, she's been speaking Spanish the entire time she's here. So, when she goes to ask me how I'm doing, it comes out as [Spanish language]. And that was the last Spanish straw for me. 

I start to sob and I go, “Mom, can you please speak in English?” And then, I rush past her back into the bathroom that I was in not five minutes before. And I sit on the counter, and I look at myself in the mirror and all the things I've done to get myself ready feel stupid. I was putting myself together to look the perfect Puerto Rican daughter, niece, cousin, what have you. I couldn't even speak the language of my country. I was a poser. 

So, the party continues. And eventually, I leave the bathroom. I come out, I serve myself some food, I sit in the corner and I listen to my family sing karaoke songs that I don't know the lyrics too. While this moment certainly didn't ruin the rest of my trip, I had similar hiccups along the way. For instance, I'd go to a restaurant and I'd try to order in Spanish, but I'd make some mistake that would let the waiter or waitress know that, “Oh, she doesn't speak Spanish. We'll speak to her in English.” I appreciated their empathy, but every time it happened, it was another blow that I couldn't speak my native language enough to even order myself food. I would look around and I would see tourists with their sunburnt foreheads, with their tropical shirts, not so unlike my own two can dress. Every time, it felt like I was defeated yet another time. 

So, when I came back to Minnesota, I decided that that would be no more. I pulled out of Latin 4 at my school, and I went to Spanish 1. I worked through that and I took accelerated courses. I worked with my dad over the summer, and I took AP Spanish. While today, I would not say I'm fluent. I'm certainly proficient, and I'm very glad to be here. [audience applause]

While I haven't been back to Puerto Rico since that time four years ago, I hope that soon I can return to the island and I can show my family all the language that they motivated me to learn for their sake, but mostly for mine. Because now when someone asks me, “Are you Puerto Rican?” I can say, “Yeah, I am.” Thank you. 

[cheers and applause]

Ana Stern: [00:13:48] That was Iris Hernandez. Iris is a curious, eager college freshman with a love of learning and all things storytelling. She is committed to connection and growth via theater, martial arts and service. She's thrilled to share this story about her culture and her own vulnerability. That's it for this episode. 

Remember, both Aravah and Iris’ stories were developed from The Moth Story Lab. If you're a 10 through 12 grader and this has inspired you, just go to themoth.org/education for all the info. The deadline to sign up is September 22nd. We hope to see you there. 

Marc: [00:14:24] For over 15 years, Ana Stern has worked with programs that amplify and promote young people’s voices, their stories and their dreams. The current chapter of Ana's story features her three cats, Andre 3000, Big Boi and Seal, getting her hands dirty with her pottery craft, speaking different languages, babbling with her fiancé to her almost one year old and working at The Moth. 

The stories in this episode were directed by Melissa Brown. This episode of The Moth podcast was produced by Sarah Austin Jenness, Sarah Jane Johnson and me, Marc Sollinger. The rest of The Moth’s leadership team include Sarah Haberman, Christina Norman, Jennifer Hixson, Meg Bowles, Kate Tellers, Marina Klutse, Suzanne Rust, Brandon Grant-Walker, Lee Ann Gullie and Aldi Kaza. 

The moth would like to thank its supporters and listeners. Stories like these are made possible by community giving. If you're not already a member, please consider becoming one, or making a one-time donation today at themoth.org/giveback. 

All Moth stories are true, as remembered by their storytellers. For more about our podcast information on pitching your own story and everything else, go to our website, themoth.org. The Moth podcast is presented by PRX, the Public Radio Exchange, helping make public radio more public at prx.org.