Dinner with the Governor

In the spring, I received an invitation to attend the Pennsylvania State Dinner at Governor Wolf’s residence, celebrating recipients’ “contributions to the Commonwealth.” The invitation glowed with a gilded gubernatorial seal and in the bottom corner said, “Semi Formal.” I excitedly referred to the event as the “Governor’s Ball” as in the stories of old.

But there was nothing antiquated about this event. The 95 attendees included pediatricians, artists, musicians, and museum curators. Upon arrival, my husband Tim and I had a photo with Governor and First Lady Wolf and then were ushered into a cocktail area. None of the attendees knew each other, as we were all invited separately, but we mingled and chatted eagerly. I was fortunate to meet the 2019 Superintendent of the Year, Dr. Gennaro Piraino, and we talked for a long time about our experiences in education.

We made our way to the dining room, set with 12 round tables and no head table. We had received table numbers at the front door and found our table in the middle of the room. Already seated there was a gentleman wearing a kippah embroidered with the Steelers logo on the side, the Star of David as the yellow star in the sports emblem. Tim and I realized he was Rabbi Hazzan Jeffrey Myers, the rabbi of the Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh, where a mass-shooting had occurred on October 27, 2018.

As we talked with the rabbi and his wife, another gentleman arrived to the table: Tarek El-Messidi. Tarek founded CelebrateMercy, a nonprofit that organizes donations from the Muslim community for victims of mass shootings. CelebrateMercy has helped victims from San Bernardino, Portland, and Las Vegas, and in November 2018, donated over $238,000 to the victims of the Tree of Life synagogue.

Finally, a young woman and her boyfriend joined us. Claire Sliney had just finished her sophomore year at the University of Pennsylvania. Originally from Los Angeles, Claire started an informal social justice club with her friends as freshmen in high school, meeting at a local coffee shop each week. They focused on the idea of period poverty—the condition of many women and girls around the world who do not have access to menstrual products and therefore miss school and work. Claire’s group decided that they could make a documentary about this issue and approached their 10^th grade English teacher for help. They found a director (it was LA, after all), and the teacher and director went to India to interview women and create the film. It was eventually titled Period. End of Sentence. and it won an Academy Award for Best Documentary (Short Subject) this February.

There was one seat left empty at the table, and to our delight, Governor Wolf himself sat down. His wife, Frances, sat at the table beside us (which, incidentally, included Dr. Piraino). Governor Wolf, Claire, and I sat in close proximity and talked throughout the dinner about teaching, Claire’s film, social justice in schools, the damaging effects of standardized testing (Gov. Wolf: “I’m working on it,”) and the Eagles, among other topics. It was an amazing experience, one I’ll never forget.

But most moving, for me, was the table arrangement itself and what it represented. At the table were the victims of mass violence and those who tried to help—Jews and Muslims eating together, bonded both by tragedy and obvious friendship. There was the college student activist who made an award-winning film about the plight of women in poverty across the globe. There was the Governor of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania. And there was me, the teacher.

I felt completely humbled, and at first wondered what I was doing there. But as the representative of all the teachers in the state, I knew I was where I should be—with other people who are on the front lines of social justice, tolerance, empathy, globalism, history, innovation, and courage. This is what we do. Every day, we enter our classrooms ready to give children our presence, knowledge, and care so they can grow to be human beings who contribute to the world. Our table was full of accomplished people who had one sure thing in common: We all had teachers who helped us grow. It was exactly where I belonged. It is exactly where all teachers belong, sitting at the table with the ultimate decision-makers, the genius creators, and the unshakeable beacons of hope and love.