A little over a year after I lost my husband, I also lost my job.
The DOGE closing of our main government client, where we provided media training and marketing support in Latin America, did us in. We hung on for about a year without getting paid, hoping and praying that the contracts were going to be renewed. But last December, we closed the company we had built from the ground up.
The bilingual communications firm I co-founded with a dear friend didn’t make it to its 10th birthday.
Another loss. Another layer of stress and worry. Another part of me to rebirth.
And I did not know what to do. Nothing made sense. But I did know what I did NOT want to do, and that was go back to what I had been doing before. I didn’t want to sit in the ten-thousandth meeting to decide the placement of the logo in a 30-second social media video campaign that was going to be on your feed for about a nanosecond. I didn’t want to hear about how so-and-so doesn’t wash the coffee mugs in the kitchen and leaves them in the sink. I didn’t want to sit across from a client complaining because the shade of blue in the promotional flyer that had been reviewed about 50 times needed to be a little darker. I imagined my response going something like this:
“Really, fictional client??? Well, my husband died and now I’m raising two teenagers by myself during perimenopause, so maybe that shade of blue is good, no?” 😂
All I have left of the career I had before is the storytelling. That part is still here. And my heart is open to where this passion will take me.
Fast-forward to the 2025–2026 school year.
After applying for several jobs with no takers in the super-saturated job market that is DC, I decided to sign up to be a substitute teacher. I had talked to another widow friend who was doing it, and she suggested I try it. So I decided to go through the process to become a substitute teacher in DC Public Schools.

Anybody I told had a reaction that was, shall we say, less than favorable.
I subbed a few days at the end of the school year in Pre-K through 5th grade. That was tough and so not for me.I have always had the utmost respect and admiration for teachers, now I truly believe they deserve a special place in heaven, or a much higher pay here on earth. Ok, so I had no idea what I was going to do this year. Then, a week before school started, an alternative high school contacted me to substitute for the Spanish teacher for a few weeks. I was terrified but decided to give it a try.
And what a terrifically rewarding and surprisingly beautiful experience it has been 🥰.
I am teaching Spanish 1 to teens of different ages who, for one reason or another, have not graduated. But mostly, I feel like I am there to celebrate the fact that they made it to school. To tell them that I’m proud of them for finishing their work. That it’s great to see them. That I trust them to do what they say they’re going to do 📚.
All of them come carrying some sort of learning or behavioral challenge, family trauma, or both. I feel like my purpose is to be there to listen, to be what they need me to be, and learn some Spanish while they’re at it. Today, a girl who got in a fight last week ran to give me a hug. She’s a doll in my class. But the hurt they carry is right under the surface.
I am exhausted, yes. But what an unexpected blessing they have been to me. I now know their names and a little, or a lot, of their stories. What they don’t know is that in them, I see my two kids. My kids who barely made it through school the first couple of years after their dad died. Whose brains couldn’t retain information. Who were worn down by the weight of grief. Who were just trying to make it through the day. Whose sense of safety had been completely shattered. And who were constantly scolded by some teachers for missing school, being late, or being distracted.
Okay, I am not going to be a teacher. That is very clear to me. But I can definitely be their substitute for life.
Thinking about my students is bringing a smile to my face these days.
What is making you smile today?
😊
Hasta la próxima! Until next weekPeace.
