I became a teacher to heal what war and displacement tried to take from my family. As the son of Afghan educators who rebuilt their lives in America, I saw education as sacred work. Teaching allows me to restore dignity, open doors for my students with disabilities, and connect to the world around them. I also honor my parents’ legacy and continue the healing that education made possible for me.

Mr. Ponoke, my only teacher of color, reflected a piece of myself. He sang with his ukulele, wove his culture into every lesson, and lit the classroom with life. Years later, in my first teaching year, I returned from a test to see his name on my board, subbing for me. It felt like destiny, a whisper that I was on the right path, and a chance to honor the teacher who first showed me the magic of learning.

I’d use $25,000 to honor the heart of my classroom, my staff, sharing with them as they are my lifeblood. I’d also plan an unforgettable, mind-blowing field trip for my students, giving them an experience that sparks wonder, joy, and learning beyond the walls of school.