Service

June 18, 2025 In Service, Special Projects

Discovery with Clay: Lesson Development at the Claymobile

At the Claymobile, early June is a time for brainstorming. As the school year comes to an end and most residencies are wrapping up, my fellow teaching artists and I have had more time on our hands than usual. We’ve been taking advantage of this time to plan ahead for the summer and the upcoming school year. A huge part of this planning is the development of new projects. Reflecting on the past school year gives us information that we can use to think of new ways to spark creativity, accommodate student needs, and engage our participants.

I’m always in awe of how art can be used as a tool of social change.

One frequent request we’ve gotten from sites is for a Pride-themed project. Projects that highlight LGBTQ+ culture are especially popular during Pride Month in June, and it’s also important to celebrate gender and sexuality diversity throughout the year. We already have one project that we often use for Pride-themed events, where participants create their own flags. This is a super open-ended project–I’ve seen students make Pride flags, the flags of their family’s country of origin, or even create their own design to express a part of their identity. In addition to the flag project, Claymobile teaching artist Mattie Lacognata is currently developing a lesson based on the work of influential pop artist and LGBTQ+ rights activist Keith Haring. Haring’s work deals with topics such as the HIV/AIDS epidemic, apartheid, and queer rights. Mattie drew from the iconic stylized figures featured in much of Haring’s work to develop a lesson in which participants will create their own Haring-esque characters out of clay. Through this lesson, students can express their identities and issues that matter to them while learning about Haring’s life and influence on art history. I’m really looking forward to teaching the Keith Haring project at a library workshop next week!

Emily Keith Haring clay

Another new lesson we’re exploring is nerikomi, a Japanese technique for marbling different clay bodies together to create patterns and designs. Claymobile staff had the opportunity to participate in a workshop with Mackenzie Pikaart, a talented ceramicist who often uses nerikomi in her work. Mackenzie demonstrated different techniques for mixing clay to create a variety of effects. We discussed how nerikomi can be unpredictable, especially for beginners, and it often produces unexpected results with the patterns it creates. This unpredictability is something I found especially exciting about nerikomi. Learning how to create art, especially in a medium that is new to many of our students, is a vulnerable process. Making mistakes is an essential part of learning, but it’s also common (and natural) to feel frustrated when the art piece you create doesn’t come out looking how you envisioned it. But with nerikomi, so much of the technique relies on trying things without being sure of how they will turn out. We discussed how teaching nerikomi could be a great opportunity to have students lean into the joy of imperfection and discovery with clay. Marbling clay without any expectation of “perfection” frees students to take risks and find inspiration in the unexpected.

Emily nerikomi clay

Our last major lesson development project has been to create projects that are accessible to those with limited motor function in their hands. Claymobile often teaches sites at senior centers, where many of the participants find it difficult to use a skewer or manipulate clay with their hands. Because of this, many of Claymobile’s repertoire of projects are simply not accessible to participants at these sites. Instead, we focus on projects that are usually flat and don’t require scratching and attaching. Our recent goal has been to create a set of new projects that are accessible to students with limited movement in their hands, and that are also engaging and fun to create, such as mini charcuterie boards or wind chimes. We’ve had a lot of success in the past with using forms, pre-cut clay shapes, and other accommodations, and it’s been a rewarding challenge to try to get creative with the tools at our disposal to ensure that our program is truly open and accessible to all participants. 

Emily Chacuterie board clay

In the midst of all of this brainstorming, I feel inspired to see my fellow teaching artists’ commitment to our students. With every new lesson we create, we’re always striving to enhance our participants’ experience–not just artistically, but also in terms of highlighting diversity and history, embracing imperfection and letting go of control, and providing full accessibility. New projects are an opportunity to address new needs or reach out to new populations. I’m always in awe of how art can be used as a tool of social change, and this recent round of lesson development is a perfect example. I look forward to putting these lessons into practice in the next year!

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Emily Lu

Emily (she/her) is the FAO Schwarz Fellow at The Clay Studio in Philadelphia.

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June 12, 2025 In Service, Social Impact

Sowing Seeds of the Future: How Extra-Curricular Garden Education Can Inspire the Next Generation of Land Stewards 

Towards the end of last Summer, when I began to plan the lessons I would deliver to all classes in grades K-5 in the 3 partner schools where I would be teaching, I had 3 major goals. First, I wanted to establish an understanding of the environment as one interconnected system made up of many simultaneously occurring, reciprocal relationships between all living and non-living things. Second, I wanted to make the lessons relevant for students who, growing up in an urban environment and community that has historically been cut off from environmental resources, may not have much experience with or access to the outdoors. Lastly, I wanted to give students an opportunity to build upon their in-class education with school-specific extracurricular events and opportunities for them to get outside and have a hands-on role in improving the environment directly in their community.  

To achieve this, I developed a 4-lesson curriculum that built up from soil and water, to seeds and plants, to birds, and connected them all with a final lesson on how they all relate through ecosystems and food webs. To build upon these lessons, I brought as many class groups as possible on a field trip to The Discovery Center, where we further explored this interconnectedness with firsthand observations of the birds, water, and native plants onsite. While these lessons and field trips emphasized our unique urban context, I wanted to make sure students not only understood the connections in their environment but also felt empowered to take an active role in supporting them. This is where the idea of extra-curricular stewardship events was born.  

As I look ahead to the summer and next school year, I can’t wait to keep engaging students and families by setting up... gardens, and hopefully see them flourish for years to come.

These projects began with a lesson idea: to explore the importance of native plants to local ecosystems, every class makes Native Wildflower Seed Balls by mixing clay, compost, and seeds. These small balls are ideal for young learners in cities, as they can be dried and stored for months and dispersed by throwing into neglected, damaged or remote areas, or locations with low, inconsistent rainfall and harsh environments. The idea: collect each class’s Seed Balls after their lesson and plan an event in the Spring to plant them, either onsite at their school or at The Discovery Center. These events, spurred on by the unique opportunities and support structures at each school, blossomed into more than I could have ever initially envisioned. 

At Community Partnership School (CPS), I collaborated with their science teacher, Mx. Rhys to plan an Earth Day event that started with a Block Cleanup surrounding their school, followed by a short walk to The Discovery Center for where students and families planted their Seed Balls along the banks of the Strawberry Mansion Reservoir as well as Chokeberry Bush along our Native Trailhead Garden. To prepare, my colleague from Audubon’s Delaware River Watershed Program team helped me mix a special blend of seeds that would be most beneficial to add along the Reservoir, and each class used these to make their Seed Balls. These three activities allowed students and families to come together to not only reduce the human impacts of littering but also actively make a positive impact by adding more native plants to their local environment. CPS students can come back to the Discovery Center and continue to care for the shrub they planted and watch the banks of the Reservoir come alive with the flowers from their seeds– thus creating ongoing connections between students and the land that sustains them.  

At Edward Gideon School, in addition to making Seed Balls with all of the K-5 classes, I was lucky enough to start working in the garden space they already established outside of their school. Together with FAO Schwarz Fellowship Alumnus, Greg Wright (The Food Trust ‘13), and 8th grade teacher Mrs. Mitchell, I lead an after-school and lunch-time Garden Club for 7th and 8th grade students to give back to their school environments by regularly removing invasive plants, cleaning up litter, and planting native perennial flowers in their existing garden beds. Garden Club students also started their own seeds, made plant labels, and installed a “pollinator hotel” to encourage further appreciation and support of native insects, birds, and plants. In addition to this club, we hosted 3 separate Community Gardening Nights. 

The first event was in the Fall to clean up the garden and prepare it for Winter, the next was in early May to prepare the garden for a spring planting, and the final one was in late May, in collaboration with local environmental non-profit Philly City Repair Project, where we planted more native wildflowers, spread Seed Balls, removed litter, and spread woodchips to beautify the space and prevent the growth of invasive plants. During these events, students, faculty, and families gathered in the garden to have a collective positive impact on the environment around them. We will continue to steward this garden all summer with the on-site YMCA group and will continue Garden Club meetings next year.

At Dr. Ethel Allen School, we planned a Community Gardening and Environmental Resource Night, where my colleague Meagan from Audubon’s Delaware River Watershed Program team and I collaborated with school administration to plant a garden in front of the school’s main entrance with native shrubs, flowers, and Seed Balls. We also built wooden planter boxes for students and families to fill with native flowers and take home so that they could improve native biodiversity, regardless of their access to green space or gardens. I also provided the principal with a list of local organizations that we had partnered with in the past, so she could invite them to the event and offer their free environmental resources to community members.

After input from school staff, the event also became an opportunity for 5th grade students to celebrate their achievements at the elementary level with an outdoor service-learning day,where they prepared the site for planting by turning over soil, planting a few native plants, and installing a bird feeder. At the actual event, they were given certificates, signed by the principal, their teachers, and me, commemorating their dedication to environmental stewardship. As these students move on to the middle school level, they will be able to feel a sense of pride in and responsibility to their school ecosystem by seeing how the garden continues to grow every day. Following the event, my colleagues from the Delaware River Watershed Program dropped off each of the planter boxes at community members’ homes. 

Starting with a simple idea for an in-class activity to teach students about the connection between and importance of seeds and plants, and expanding into 6 events encouraging dozens of students and families across the Strawberry Mansion community to take a active role in making their environments healthier for the plants, insects birds, and humans alike, this hands-on approach to classroom engagement has sown the seeds of not just native plants, but ongoing relationships of care between students and the ecosystems they call home.  

Of course, none of this would have been possible without the immense support from teachers, administrators, and school staff alike, as well as Meagan and Robin of Audubon-Mid-Atlantic’s DRW team and external partners like the Philly City Repair Project. If the students are the ones planting the seeds, Meagan and Robin are the ones enriching the soil and laying the groundwork for these projects to succeed. 

As I look ahead to the Summer and next school year, I can’t wait to keep engaging students and families by setting up sustainable systems of tending to these seeds and gardens to hopefully see them flourish for years to come. Through it all, the Seed Ball, that humble mixture of clay, soil, and seeds remains a helpful symbol of what is possible, and I am carrying it over to on-site programming at the Discovery Center with a workshop in July where we will use nature journals to explore our Pollinator Garden in full bloom, and make a new batch of Seed Balls for participants to take home and keep spreading native plants and habitats as far as we can.

Sources: 

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Julie Cleaver

Julie (she/her) is the FAO Schwarz Fellow at Audubon Mid-Atlantic in Philadelphia.

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June 11, 2025 In Service, Social Impact, Special Projects

Solidifying My Passion: Reflecting on Two Years as a Fellow at Museum of Science

As my time as a FAO Schwarz fellow comes to an end at the Museum of Science in Boston, I think about when I started and how much I, and the world around me, have changed. My reflections on the past two years are not just a moment to see how I have grown, but the chance to see how the work that I and others at the Museum are doing is creating positive change. 

My role in creating an impact took place through my direct service and special projects. The focus of my direct service consisted of working closely with over 50 high school students that came into the Museum as Summer Youth Interns or as volunteers from our partnership with Fenway High School. For these students, I created college & career readiness workshops, hosted networking events for them to connect with youth from other organizations, helped them plan an event for other students, and supported their professional development. For the broader Museum community, I designed live animal shows and current science related programming, and facilitated hands-on activities in our gallery spaces, as well as in the community. These are all opportunities that strengthened my abilities as a youth mentor and educator.

These past two years have taught me how impactful informal education is.

Besides directly impacting students and visitors with workshops and programming, my special projects have also aligned with the Museum’s mission “to inspire a lifelong love of science in everyone”. From planning our High School Science Series events, a free field trip opportunity for high schools, to assisting in the translation of new exhibit spaces, my projects were tailored towards adapting the Museum to be a more inclusive space. I learned that creating a space that makes everyone feel comfortable starts with listening. As part of the MOS en Español team and DEAIB Committee, listening to all the voices that step into the Museum to understand how we can meet them where they are at has been one of the most crucial steps to maintaining a welcoming environment. 

These past two years have taught me how impactful informal education is; through these various mediums, I have been able to work with over 25,000 individuals. The anecdotes from students and community members further emphasize the welcoming environment that has been built at the Museum of Science that allows them to effectively learn and thrive. 

All these wonderful experiences throughout my time as a FAO Schwarz Fellow have solidified the passion I have for empowering the next generation of youth and building community. I am ecstatic to be staying at the Museum of Science after my fellowship where I will be a Bilingual Education Associate and will continue to do the inspiring work that I do now, while taking on more of a leadership and mentor role. I look forward to working alongside the same amazing people, plus the next FAO Schwarz Fellow, Delaney, who we are so excited to have join us! 

My time as a fellow has been exceptional, from growing more confident in my skills as an educator to creating lasting connections with other FAO Schwarz Fellows, and I am extremely grateful for every opportunity that came out of this fellowship. 

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Jocelyn Poste

Jocelyn (she/her) is the FAO Schwarz Fellow at the Museum of Science in Boston.

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Featured image by Ashley McCabe.

June 3, 2025 In Service, Social Impact, Special Projects

Finding My Footing: Navigating Life Post-Grad in a Tumultuous Nonprofit Climate

I spent my senior year of college trying to prepare myself for the transition to post-college life. I had one wish: to find a job that would take me back to New York City and serve as the perfect stepping stone for a career in public policy. The rest I had figured out––I had my family waiting for me back in New York, roommates I planned to live with, and a sizable number of my college friends all making the move to New York. When I was offered the FAO Schwarz Fellowship, I thought I was set. I’d be working for the Policy and Government Relations Team at a national nonprofit and promoting high-quality education through my own direct service with young children. I was prepared for more structure, longer working days, and fewer social hours at the library, but overall, I was feeling so excited about the new experiences to come. 

[The Fellowship] has been a time of discovery—clarifying my passions, strengthening my ability to build meaningful relationships, and learning to navigate challenges with grace.

I’ll be candid in saying that the past 18 months or so came with more turbulence than ease. I began my working life commuting daily (per an HR mandate) to an empty, often dark, office in Midtown, trying to make sense of my role in an organization that was still reeling from the impact of the COVID-19 pandemic. Staff reductions had left the NYC office largely vacant, and the few remaining NYC staff members were all working remotely. In those early months, I felt burnt out and idle all at once. I found myself not only navigating a new professional environment but also grappling with major losses in my personal life, witnessing significant layoffs at work, and feeling the emotional toll of a news cycle and global politics that grew increasingly demoralizing. My day-to-day life felt more and more distant from the vibrant, purposeful rhythm of student life I once took for granted as a college student. Worse, the interest in policy and advocacy that had initially driven my commitment to my organization became obsolete, with the Policy and Government Relations team dissolved during that first period of layoffs at my organization. 

At first, I settled into the idea that this was just the reality of adulthood. People always reminisce about their college years with such fondness—maybe this is why. Maybe the real world really is just… awful. After sitting with this for some time, though, I decided that I had more autonomy than it felt like. As a political science student, I remember learning about critical junctures—moments when a single decision or event can significantly alter the course of the future. I realized I didn’t just need a shift in mindset, but a change in action. These post-grad growing pains would be my critical juncture.

I started by adjusting my wake-up time to 5 AM. I’d always been a morning person, and it became clear to me that I needed time to work on personal goals before the work day began. This also gave me an opportunity to run in the mornings, which became an incredible outlet for stress relief, planning, and reflection. By the time I began my workday, I felt energized—bubbly, even—and ready to put my best foot forward in both my work and relationships. Investing in workplace relationships was the next facet of my renewed approach. I saw my organization’s restructuring as an opportunity to step up and take on new responsibilities. I asked about capacity gaps and figured out where I could step in. 

As I took on new responsibilities, I quickly found myself involved in a range of projects that both challenged and inspired me. By supporting our funding operations and serving as a reliable set of eyes on grant applications, I became reconnected with my love for close reading, writing, and analysis (an experience that ultimately affirmed my growing interest in pursuing law school). Simultaneously, I grew into my role in community engagement. A new Community Engagement Manager joined me in the New York office, and together we built a program from the ground up. We cultivated new partnerships, led teams of passionate volunteers, and became confident presenting our early literacy work to corporations, community organizations, and parents across all five boroughs. More than that, I was able to serve in parts of the city I’d never even seen before, connecting with community members in ways that deepened my appreciation for the city I grew up in and honed my ability to serve as a successful advocate. While things began to fall into place, an amazing new cohort of fellows started their first year at their respective organizations, bringing fresh energy and incredible talent. That’s when I realized: I had finally entered a new season. 

As I prepare to attend law school this coming fall, I carry with me the strong sense of camaraderie and resilience cultivated throughout this fellowship. It has been a time of discovery—clarifying my passions, strengthening my ability to build meaningful relationships, and learning to navigate challenges with grace. Let my experience serve as a reminder that growth often comes from stepping into turmoil, and that we have more control over our paths than we might think. I’m forever grateful for the lessons learned, the friendships formed, and the foundation laid as I prepare for my next season.

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Sabrina Abreu

Sabrina (she/her) is the Program Operations & External Affairs FAO Schwarz Fellow Jumpstart in New York City.

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May 22, 2025 In Service, Social Impact

Growing Together: The Power of Community Partnerships

Perhaps the greatest thing I have learned during my time as an FAO Schwarz Fellow so far is the importance of relationship building and community partnerships. None of the work that we do exists in a vacuum, and there are so many individuals and organizations that are all striving towards the same goals. It is easy to forget this though, especially within the nonprofit world. We are often so focused on our own programming, deadlines, funding, and daily to-dos of our organizations that we can lose connection with those around us. Our work is impossible to do alone, and it is not meant to be done so. It is meant to be done in community by helping others as they help in return.

At my other school, I lead the students alone, but thanks to what I have learned with Tito, it does not feel that way.

For my work, this has looked like tapping into Philadelphia’s vast network of urban growers. No matter where in the city, it feels that you cannot go more than a couple blocks without seeing a community garden. It is truly a comfort. Greenery, plants, and all forms of life bursting out of street corners and concrete, inviting you in. This has been especially fruitful for my direct service of connecting students with our food system. One of my schools, Potter-Thomas, is a ten-minute walk from Historic Fairhill, a 4.5-acre oasis of calm with hundred-year-old trees and food growing everywhere you look. The green space director, Farmer Tito, is deeply involved in countless community outreach initiatives, including at one of my schools. He maintains the garden at Potter-Thomas with the help of the school’s garden club. This school happened to be one of my sites of direct service, and it has been such an amazing experience working alongside Tito. 

When I was first starting, I was nervous about leading groups on my own, but I quickly realized that I did not need to be. The club meets every Tuesday, and all throughout the week, Tito and I call each other to share thoughts and review our plans. A couple of weeks ago, I shared how the students and I discussed the idea of incorporating their own art into the garden. The next class, he brought in all the necessary materials and even painted on some base layers as a foundation, using his skills as an artist himself. He is now able to help at other schools while I lead the group at Potter-Thomas thanks to our collaboration. At my other school, I lead the students alone, but thanks to what I have learned with Tito, it does not feel that way. 

Part of my direct service work is to plan an end-of-year convening for my youth leadership groups. When thinking of a location, I knew Historic Fairhill would be the perfect site. This will be a day to bring together the students from both of my schools, fellow Food Trust staff, and community partners that are involved with our work. It will be an opportunity for the students to meet each other, present/talk about what we have done throughout the year, discuss their experiences, and do some gardening together. The calm oasis that Historic Fairhill and Tito provide will make for a beautiful day that reflects the importance of community partnerships. 

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Michael Varlotta

Michael (he/him) is the Farm to School FAO Schwarz Fellow at The Food Trust in Philadelphia.

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April 14, 2025 In Service, Social Impact

Tuesdays with Mr. Jacob

On Tuesdays, I’m Mr. Jacob. I drag myself out of bed after many snoozes of my alarm, grab a quick breakfast—typically a stubbornly thick cup of Greek yogurt and a PB&J sandwich—and head out the door for my 13-minute walk to P.S. 59: The Dawn Best Elementary School. For those of you who might not be familiar with the way New York City names its public schools, the P.S. stands for Public School. That might seem obvious, but I had to ask a colleague what it stood for my second week into the role, further cementing my identity as a New York City transplant. But, as I was reminded by my colleague—and as I love to tell my students—there are no bad questions.

Teaching anyone how to read is a challenge, but inspiring a child to enjoy reading—something many of us abandon as adults—is a whole other ambition.

My direct service work at Reading Partners involves leading one-on-one tutoring sessions focused on literacy with students throughout the day. I help them become better readers. To some students, I look like I am the freshly graduated age of 23, while to others, I look closer to 40. It all depends on how recently I’ve shaved. However, one thing remains consistent: my students love reminding me that I’m old. To them, I’m an adult figure in their lives, adjacent to a teacher, hence my emphasis on the title “Mr.” before my name. It’s important for them to know that they meet with me each week to learn, not to hurt my ego. I am an adult, and I come to this work with over 8 years of experience as a tutor and mentor for young students. However, time and time again, my students show me that there’s still much for me to learn. 

Patience is one of those lessons. Every Tuesday morning, I start my day by meeting with Joseph, one of my 2nd-grade students who is reading below grade level. Joseph is the student who has challenged me most as a tutor. He’s naturally funny, brutally honest, and a quick learner. No matter how many times he announces that he hates reading, I’ve seen how capable he is in the rare moments when he finds the motivation to push through a lesson. Like most other students his age, he would much rather run around the room than sit down and read for 45 minutes. There are times when I want to fasten a seat belt to his chair to make him stay focused, but there are also moments when we’re dancing and high-fiving because he’s remembered a vocabulary word or successfully tackled an intimidatingly long sentence, pausing at each comma. Teaching anyone how to read is a challenge, but inspiring a child to enjoy reading—something many of us abandon as adults—is a whole other ambition. At a point when I was questioning what progress Joseph and I had made together, his mid-year assessment showed immense improvement. It served as a reminder that the work I’m doing is about laying the foundation for his future, both in school and beyond. That’s why it’s worth it.

As a first-generation college graduate, I’ve experienced the transformative power of education firsthand. I’m also a pandemic student. While my experience wasn’t unique, the shifts in education I experienced as a result of the pandemic have stayed with me, and they’re reflected in the challenges young students are facing today. New York City, like many other cities, is dealing with issues like chronic absenteeism, enrollment declines, and a major shift in how public schools approach reading instruction. Young students today are facing a multitude of barriers to learning to read, and yearly statistics from the National Association of Educational Progress, also known as the “Nation’s Report Card,” remain alarming. Students like Joseph deserve support, and schools and communities must work to ensure that students are equipped to succeed in school and beyond.

So, I continue to show up for my students. While I may not know where my own future lies, I appreciate knowing that my work as a Fellow leaves a small but meaningful impact on the students and families that I work with. I celebrate Joseph when he focuses and completes a lesson. I celebrate Kelly when she reads three more words than she did in our previous timed reading exercise. Even amid a period marked by deteriorating attention spans, political turmoil, and a changing educational landscape, I am evermore aware and reminded by my students that education is powerful and that we can shape the future.

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Jacob Jeong

Jacob (he/him) is the "Powered By" Program's FAO Schwarz Fellow at Reading Partners in New York City.

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April 10, 2025 In Service, Social Impact

Walking Side-By-Side With My Work: My Experience as a Trans Museum Educator 

Anyone who knows me personally knows how strict I am about maintaining a work-life balance. Across the many jobs I have had, I have always made an effort to never carry my job home with me. When applying to the FAO Schwarz Fellowship, and especially after I accepted the position at the Museum of the City of New York, I remained steadfast in my view that once I clock out at 5pm, my time at work ends, only to be resumed the next morning at 9am. However, I recently found that this has changed. It was Emily Lu, a member of my cohort and a Fellow with The Clay Studio in Philadelphia, PA, who made a comment during a Fellowship info session that the official work we do as FAO Fellows may have a hard stop every evening, but that it stays with us always, mentally and emotionally. For me, this statement has never been truer than it is in the present day. Given the recent political attacks on some of our nation’s most vulnerable populations, namely the transgender community, my work as an educator has crept into every aspect of my life, even those that are most personal.

Just as I was starting to gain my footing in teaching, I had an interaction with a high schooler on one of my field trips that affirmed my place as an educator.

College, though not when I started my transition, was the first time in my life where everyone knew me as Alex and consistently used the pronouns I introduced myself with. I was constantly surrounded by other queer and trans students as well as countless strong-willed allies both in the student body and amongst my professors. This period in my life allowed my gender to become something I no longer felt the need to perform nor push away. And so, being nonbinary became something innate, something that I forgot sometimes needed explanation to those not as familiar with the term and what it entails.

When I began my time as the FAO Schwarz Fellow at the Museum of the City of New York, my colleagues accepted and respected my identity. However, I was quickly reminded that young kids often come to conversations with a backlog of invasive questions that they are prepared to ask at the drop of a hat. In my first few weeks teaching, I had my fair share of genuinely curious students inquire about my gender. In that time, I also experienced the difficulties that come with being a visibly trans educator, what with less than well-intentioned students repeatedly asking me to repeat my pronouns just to get a chuckle out of their friends. And while the latter of these encounters were discouraging, there always seemed to be at least one student in every group whose expression shifted when I shared my pronouns, changing not to one of judgement, but to one of excitement.

Just as I was starting to gain my footing in teaching, I had an interaction with a high schooler on one of my field trips that affirmed my place as an educator. As always, I introduced myself with my name and pronouns and continued with the experience, telling the group about the history of graffiti in New York City. Near the end of the trip, while students were working on an art activity, one student who had been particularly engaged approached me and nervously asked to show me something. After I responded, they turned over their paper to reveal a drawing of me that they had done while I was teaching. Instantly flattered, I applauded their work and asked to take a picture of it, in awe that someone would take the time to do such a thing. As my time with the group ended, one of the chaperones came up to me and explained that that young artist was nonbinary but did not feel safe enough to come out to their peers or family. Yet, despite the fear they felt about the world outside, they expressed to this chaperone that they felt safe and represented when they realized I was nonbinary. Since that interaction, I have had more students of all ages approach me to tell me that we share the same pronouns (they/he) or that they know someone who is trans.

Picture drawn of me by one of my students

As corny as it may be to say, I truly do see myself in all the trans kids who I meet on field trips. I remember the challenges that go along with being in middle and high school while simultaneously grappling with a major shift in your identity. But I especially remember what it was like to meet trans adults and gain a new perspective on what my future could look like. As someone who now works in a public-facing role, it is an honor to be that person for trans youth. However, I know that my role in these students’ lives extends beyond that of being trans representation.

As part of my Fellowship, I spend most mornings leading field trips for school groups throughout our galleries. One such experience, based in our Activist New York gallery, features a case that discusses the origins of the Trans Rights Movement in New York City. Beginning with the Stonewall Inn riots, I work to engage students in the story of the Gay Liberation Movement, the anti-trans exclusion that developed within it, and the ways in which trans women of color forged a brighter future for trans people everywhere through their activism. For queer students, this section of the gallery often serves as a refresher for them and as a result evokes a lot of excitement as not only do they know about these histories, but they also have a chance to see their community represented in a museum.

Though my aim in teaching students about trans history is not only focused on helping queer youth feel seen, I also hope to sow empathy for this community within non-queer learners. While most students take the stories of trans women like Sylvia Rivera seriously, I have encountered scenarios in which some visitors are dismissive of the mistreatment they faced, unable, or unwilling, to grasp the severity of society’s cruelty. In cases like this, I see it as my responsibility to encourage kids to reflect on the challenges these women faced and compare it to stories of trans youth today, driving home the point that homelessness and abuse are still being experienced by trans people of all ages. When this point is made, I watch as previously facetious students begin to recognize the gravity of the history they were just making fun of. Even if this compassion is short-lived for some, I am hopeful that by teaching this important part of New York City’s history, I am working to undo some of the harmful rhetoric running rampant in our media.

Like many people, I often worry that I am not doing enough to make a positive change in a world that is slowly, but steadily, moving towards widespread political and social conservativism. However, I was recently introduced to a quote by Brazilian educator and philosopher, Paulo Freire from his 1968 book Pedagogy of the Oppressed that has empowered me in my educational practice. Freire states the following:

Education either functions as an instrument that is used to facilitate the integration of the younger generation into the logic of the present system and bring about conformity to it, or it becomes “the practice of freedom,” the means by which men and women deal critically and creatively with reality and discover how to participate in the transformation of their world. (Freire, 34).

Although I came into the Fellowship without a background in education and thus have a long way to go in implementing concrete pedagogy that allows me to transform my teaching into the “practice of freedom” that Freire references, I feel empowered knowing that I am well on my way to accomplishing that. Demonstrating that trans people have always existed and persisted in the face of mistreatment is a lesson that is vital to transgender and cisgender students alike. For trans students, their time at MCNY serves as a reminder that trans people will survive despite what people in power may want. For cis students, it provides a necessary look into the actual trans experience, a story that differs greatly from the one being pushed by right-wing groups.

And, thus, in a time when the Stonewall National Monument has erased all mentions of trans people, I, alongside my fellow educators, keep the fight of Bebe Scarpi, Sylvia Rivera, and Marsha P. Johnson alive in our teaching. But even if students leave without fully grasping the extent of trans resistance since the 1960s, I hope that, at the very least, every student leaves with a newfound sense of empathy. And for those most affected by the stories we teach, I truly hope they finish their field trips having found solace in the galleries amidst the confusing and terrifying world we live in.

Even for me, having the privilege of teaching students about the trans elders who founded the trans rights movement has grounded me in ways I struggle to fully grasp. In a time when anti-trans hate is seemingly at a peak in the United States, I somehow feel closer to my transness than I ever have. Largely, I owe this fact to the students I work with, the content I teach, and the fact that in recent months I have learned to walk side-by-side with my work. Rather than running out of the museum every night, watching as it struggles and fails to catch up, I hold the door open for the emotions that my work brings up, welcoming it into my apartment and my life to not only better myself as an educator, but as an individual.

Sources:

https://envs.ucsc.edu/internships/internship-readings/freire-pedagogy-of-the-oppressed.pdf

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Alex Gabriel

Alex (they/he) is the FAO Schwarz Fellow at the Museum of the City of New York in New York City.

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March 10, 2025 In Beyond the Fellowship, Service, Social Impact

Empowering the Youth, Saving the World, and Battling Desensitization: Reflections from my Volunteer Work in Youth Leadership

It’s no secret that my road to the Fellowship came with its twists and turns – I changed my major about four times, settled on a different career path every few months all throughout college, and ended undergrad with what felt like more uncertainty than I began with. With nearly enough ambiguity to completely drown me in anxiety, it’s no surprise that when something felt constant and certain, I held on to it tightly. Namely, that thing was my passion for youth leadership. If I knew nothing else, I knew that I cared about young people and that I believed deeply in their capacity to create positive social change.

A sudden inspiration to “save the world” is a temporary feeling... but a decision to solve a problem is the beginning of the ripple effect that leads to a lifelong commitment to social impact.

In 2018, Hugh O’Brian Youth Leadership (HOBY), an organization committed to empowering young people to lead lives dedicated to service and social change, entirely altered the trajectory of my life and has since taught me more than any educational institution ever could. In fact, when I’ve been asked what I feel made me qualified for the fellowship (and to work in social impact in general), my answer has always been some form of “I think it was less my education and more my volunteer work with HOBY.” 

At 16, HOBY instilled in me the semi-absurd idea that I could change the world. At 20, it gave me space to apply what I was learning in my sociology classes as I developed identity-based programming for students at Kentucky’s local leadership seminar. At 22, it challenged me to understand Diversity, Equity, Inclusion, and Belonging (DEIB) in a global context as I spearheaded the development of identity-based learning opportunities at HOBY’s international program, the World Leadership Congress. 

At 23, I’m writing about it in a blog post because it continues to be a source of growth and grounding, informing how I operate as an FAO Schwarz Fellow, and in life. I’d like to use this as an opportunity to share a few of the lessons I’ve learned from working with truly inspirational young people, how that work has shaped my journey to the fellowship, and the impact it’s had on my understanding of social impact. 

1. Young people aren’t the leaders of tomorrow – they’re the leaders of today.

As part of her welcome speech in 2018, HOBY KY’s then-Director of Volunteers expressed mild frustration with the way people from outside of the organization described its mission. Often, folks would refer to it as “a program for the leaders of tomorrow.” Although a seemingly accurate statement, the idea stands at odds with a fundamental belief held by those who do youth leadership work: that young people have the capacity to make change now. As she went on to explain, the goal of the seminar wasn’t to build the leaders of tomorrow, but rather, to empower the leaders of today. 

This is something I’ve carried with me and repeated to the young people I’ve worked with more times than I can count. To this point, committing my life to social impact has meant continuously challenging the notion that I’m too young, too powerless, or too small to drive meaningful impact. Instead, I’ve learned to welcome challenges as opportunities for growth, embrace being the youngest person in the room, and identify when it is in my capacity to create positive social change.

 

2. Saving the world starts with identifying a problem

I absolutely believe that young people can save the world. I wouldn’t be completing upwards of 300 hours of unpaid volunteer work in youth leadership every year if I weren’t fueled by that belief. At the same time, I’ve come to understand that “saving the world” is a horribly unspecific task – and a lot of pressure. Over the last few years, I’ve intentionally changed the way I speak to the students I mentor when discussing their ability to address their communities’ most pressing social issues. Through my own journey in social impact, I’ve learned that it all starts with identifying a problem. 

Not only does zooming in from the big picture alleviate pressure, but it’s also more likely to lead to tangible outcomes. Figuring out how to solve a problem is much more manageable, specific, and measurable than “saving the world” (SMART goals, anyone?). A sudden inspiration to “save the world” is a temporary feeling that may wear off, but a decision to solve a problem is the beginning of the sort of ripple effect that leads to a lifelong commitment to social impact. 

3. In times of hopelessness, you do what you can

I recently asked a mentor for advice on what to do when it feels like the world is crumbling and collectively moving backward. A heavy question, but her answer was simple: “you do what you can.” 

Although she prefaced that statement with “I know this is nothing profound,” the impact it’s had on how I operate – as someone committed to social impact but battling desensitization – has been, in fact, quite profound. Immediately after she spoke, my mind went to the students I mentor in Kentucky. In founding HOBY KY’s DEIB team, one of my goals was to create space for students to explore the relationship between identity and leadership, which led to the creation of affinity groups. For students from the smallest towns in Kentucky, being able to be in community with other people of color, other LGBTQ+ folks, other immigrants and children of immigrants, meant feeling safe for the first time in their life. 

So, alluding to the second section, no, it is not within my capacity to single-handedly save the world. But I absolutely still have the ability to continue creating safe spaces for students who don’t have them elsewhere. Even if the world is crumbling, intentionally continuing to do what I can is what keeps me grounded, sensitized, and moving. 

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Shraddha Patel

Shraddha (she/her) is the FAO Schwarz Fellow at Reading Partners in New York City.

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March 5, 2025 In Day in the Life, Service, Social Impact

A Day in the Life as an FAO Schwarz Fellow at the Museum of Science, Boston

During my time as the FAO Schwarz Fellow at the Museum of Science in Boston, I have learned that no two days are ever the same. It is something I quite enjoy about working within an informal education setting. There is an exhilarating energy of finding out if I will be facilitating my favorite hands-on activities or if the Museum will be hosting a dance battle competition (which has happened)! The overview that follows is just one of many combinations of what my day as the FAO Schwarz Fellow can look like at the Museum of Science. 

Early morning (9:00 – 9:30):

Morning check-ins are crucial, on a personal and professional level. Just like breakfast is an important meal of the day, our team’s morning check-ins are just as important. Not just because it helps us know who is out for the day, but because it gives us time to connect as we chat about what we did after work the day before or express what we are excited about for the day!

Morning (9:30 – 12:30): 

As part of my direct service, I am regularly scheduled to do live presentations and facilitate hands-on activities throughout the Museum to engage and educate visitors. On this specific day, I was on the schedule for the morning In-Gallery Learning shift which consists of conducting hands-on activities in three of our gallery spaces. We usually start the shift off with a check-in meeting with our weekly volunteers and a fun question of the week! (This week was: “What’s your favorite type of donut?”) From there I spent my first hour in our Hall of Human Life encouraging visitors to use their knowledge of the human body and how their joints work to put together a mystery skeleton. My second hour of the shift was in our Engineering Design Workshop where visitors were challenged to make a miniature trampoline that makes a golf ball bounce as high or as low as possible.

Midday (1:00 – 1:30):

Lunch, of course! 

Afternoon (2:00 – 3:30):

Another part of my direct service is working with our partners at Fenway High School to host a cohort of Juniors who volunteer for an hour and a half every week at the Museum. This year, our students have been focused on exploring different careers within a museum setting. Additionally, they are involved in a volunteer project that is related to one of my special projects, High School Science Series (HSSS). This is a series of STEM related events throughout the school year that are free for high schools to attend. We are working with our Fenway High School volunteers to plan the Environmental Science HSSS in April 2025 so that there is youth influence and feedback involved in the process. This day the students worked to compile an extensive list of organizations that they thought would be a good fit and wanted to invite to the event in April.  

Late Afternoon (4:00 – 5:00):

Throughout the day, I like to take advantage of any open time I have in my schedule to complete any urgent tasks, this was one of those times. This can range from replying to emails, updating my current live presentation shows, clerical work related to upcoming projects or events, and more.

Overall, my day was quite exhilarating! I feel grateful for days like these as they feel productive and impactful in several ways, whether that is in one-off experiences with visitors or with the youth that come in seeking exciting opportunities every week.

 

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Jocelyn Poste

Jocelyn (she/her) is the Youth Programs, Community Engagement Department FAO Schwarz Fellow at the Museum of Science in Boston.

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