Roberto Germán [00:00:01]:
Welcome to Our Classroom. In this space, we talk about education, which is inclusive of, but not limited to, what happens in schools. Education is taking place whenever and wherever we are willing to learn. I am your host, Roberto Germán, and Our Classroom is officially in session. Welcome back to Our Classroom. It's been a little while since our last episode. I took a couple of weeks away with my family and I traveled to the Dominican Republic. I have to tell you, it was a wonderful experience.
Roberto Germán [00:00:39]:
Being back on the island, man, it just rejuvenated me. There was something that happened toward the end of our trip that I haven't stopped thinking about. A couple of nights before returning home, we had the opportunity to attend a musical at the Teatro Nacional in Santo Domingo. The production was called Mariposas de Acero, Butterflies of Steel. It's a musical that tells the story of the Mirabal sisters. The Mirabal sisters. And when I tell you that this production was incredible, I mean it. I've had the privilege of seeing productions like Hamilton and In the Heights, and I would put this experience in that company.
Roberto Germán [00:01:23]:
The music, the storytelling, the performances, the emotion. But what stayed with me wasn't simply the quality of the production, it was the story. And the responsibility that comes with knowing that story. There's also a personal connection. One of the people behind the production, Pablo García, is Lorena's uncle. So being there carried an additional layer of meaning for our family. But today, I want to talk about something that reaches far beyond my family or even the Dominican Republic. I want to talk about history, memory, truth, and the responsibility we have as educators to help young people understand the world they've inherited.
Roberto Germán [00:02:08]:
For those who may not be familiar with the Mirabal sisters, let me offer some context. Patria, Minerva, María Teresa, and Dedé Mirabal were 4 sisters from the Dominican Republic whose lives became deeply connected to resistance against the dictatorship of Rafael Leónidas Trujillo. And Trujillo ruled the Dominican Republic from 1930 until 1961. His dictatorship was marked by repression, censorship, political violence, and the persecution of people who challenged his power. 3 of the sisters, Patria, Minerva, and María Teresa, became involved in resistance against the regime. On November 25th, 1960, the 3 sisters, along with their driver Rufino de la Cruz, were murdered by agents of the dictatorship. Dedé survived and helped preserve her sisters' legacy. Today, the Mirabal sisters are remembered as symbols of resistance and courage.
Roberto Germán [00:03:17]:
November 25th is also recognized internationally as the International Day for the Elimination of violence against women. But here's what struck me as I watched this production. It's one thing to know historical facts, it's another thing to encounter the humanity behind those facts. These weren't simply names in a history book. They were daughters, sisters, mothers, women with hopes, fears, relationships, and futures. And they made choices in a world where telling the truth and resisting injustice could cost them their lives. That raises a question I think every educator should consider. Are we teaching students to remember historical events, or are we helping them understand the human beings who lived through them? Because those are not always the same thing.
Roberto Germán [00:04:15]:
I want you to think about how sometimes We teach history. We introduce a period. We identify important people. We provide dates. We explain what happened. Then we assess whether students remember the information. And I'm not suggesting that facts aren't important. They absolutely are.
Roberto Germán [00:04:41]:
We need historical accuracy. We need evidence. We need chronology and context. But information alone doesn't necessarily produce understanding. A student might know when the Mirabal sisters were murdered without understanding the conditions that made their resistance necessary. A student might know the name Trujillo without understanding how dictatorships maintain power or how fear shapes people's choices, or why some people resist while others remain silent, or how ordinary people become participants in extraordinary moments. And that's where I think education has an opportunity to do something deeper. We can invite students to investigate not only what happened, but why.
Roberto Germán [00:05:37]:
Whose voices were heard? Whose voices were suppressed? Who benefited from the existing system? Who paid the price for challenging it? And how do we know what we know? These questions don't require us to abandon academic rigor. They actually demand more of it because now students have to investigate, Analyze evidence, consider perspectives, and defend their interpretations. That's the kind of historical thinking I want us to cultivate. Now, let me return to the musical for a moment. What made Mariposas de Acero so powerful wasn't simply that it presented a historical event. It invited the audience to experience the story through music, movement, dialogue, and performance. And it reminded me of something I believe deeply. Stories can help us feel the weight of truths that information alone might leave untouched.
Roberto Germán [00:06:46]:
Think about the opportunities this creates for our classrooms. A history teacher might pair primary resources or primary sources with a theatrical production. An English teacher might invite students to examine how historical fiction represents real people. An art teacher might explore how visual artists preserve cultural memory. A music teacher might investigate how songs have been used to resist oppression or sustain hope. And students themselves might create poetry, oral stories, performances, or other work rooted in the stories of their communities. But I want to add an important distinction: a powerful artistic representation is not automatically a complete historical account. We should help students appreciate the artistry while also asking, what is historically documented? What has been dramatized? Whose perspective shapes the telling? What might be missing? Art can open the door to historical inquiry.
Roberto Germán [00:08:02]:
It shouldn't replace it. And that distinction is particularly important when the stories we're telling involve real people, real suffering, and real communities. There's another part of this experience that was especially meaningful to me. I'm Dominican, and watching this production in Santo Domingo gave me a profound sense of pride, not pride in everything that has happened in our country's history, but pride in the people who had the courage to challenge what was wrong. And that got me thinking about our students. How many young people are sitting in classrooms learning about everybody else's history while knowing very little about their own? How many students can tell about historical figures from textbooks but have never been invited to investigate the people, movements, and experiences that shaped their own communities? And I'm not suggesting that students should only learn about people who share their identities. Quite the opposite. Students deserve access to the breadth of human history, but they also deserve opportunities to recognize that their communities have contributed to that history, that their ancestors weren't simply spectators, that their families and communities have stories worth investigating and preserving.
Roberto Germán [00:09:32]:
For educators, this can begin with something simple. Ask students, what is a story from your family or community that more people should know? Not every student will know the answer, and not every student will feel comfortable sharing. I get it. And we should never require children to disclose painful or private family histories, but we can create opportunities for them to investigate local history. Interview willing community members, study cultural traditions, or research historical figures connected to places that matter to them. When we do that, we're communicating something important. Your history matters, your community matters, and you have a role in preserving and understanding the stories that came before you. There's another lesson from the Mirabad sisters that I think deserves our attention.
Roberto Germán [00:10:32]:
Courage. We use that word frequently. We tell students to be courageous. We encourage them to stand up for what's right. But I wonder how often we help young people understand what courage actually requires. Because courage isn't simply doing something bold, and it certainly doesn't mean that you're never afraid. Sometimes courage means telling the truth when remaining silent would be easier. Sometimes it means asking a question that other people would prefer you didn't ask.
Roberto Germán [00:11:03]:
Sometimes it means refusing to participate in something harmful, and sometimes it means standing beside somebody who's being mistreated. Now, I do want to be careful here. I'm not comparing the ordinary challenges of school life to resisting a violent dictatorship. The historical circumstances and consequences are obviously profoundly different, but I do think we could help students examine the moral questions that emerge from history. What responsibilities do we have to one another? How do people recognize injustice? What helps people act on their convictions? What makes it difficult? And how do communities support those who speak Up? These are questions worth exploring, and they're not just questions for students, they're questions for us adults too. Because if we want young people to tell the truth, they need to see us value truth. If we want them to ask difficult questions, we need to demonstrate the difficult questions that are welcome. And if we want them to act with integrity, we need to model integrity when it's inconvenient.
Roberto Germán [00:12:26]:
We can't simply teach courage as a historical concept. We have to create environments where students can practice. Practice? You're talking about practice? Yes, talking about practicing Courage. Creating environments where students can practice courage. So I want to leave educators with 3 practical invitations. First, teach the people, not just the events. The next time you're introducing a historical moment, spend time exploring the humanity of the people involved. What did they believe? What choice did they face? What relationships shaped their lives? What do historical sources reveal and what remains uncertain? Second, make room for stories that have been overlooked.
Roberto Germán [00:13:27]:
Look at the histories represented in your curriculum. Whose stories are centered? Whose are missing? What opportunities exist to incorporate local history, community knowledge, and voices that students might not otherwise encounter? And remember, adding a story isn't enough. We have to teach it thoughtfully with context and care. Third, help students connect historical courage to present-day responsibility. Not by telling students what they must think, but by giving them opportunities to examine evidence, ask difficult questions, consider ethical choices, and practice respectful disagreement. We want students who can recognize when something is wrong, who know how to investigate a claim, Who can speak truthfully, who can listen carefully, and who understand that their choices affect other people. Those are skills that matter inside and outside the classroom. And as I think back to that evening at the Teatro Nacional, I keep coming back to the feeling of sitting there watching this story unfold.
Roberto Germán [00:14:50]:
I felt proud, I felt moved, and I felt grateful. That artists had invested their gifts into preserving and sharing this part of Dominican history. But I also left thinking about responsibility, because remembering isn't simply about looking backward. It's about deciding what we're going to do with what we've learned. The Mirabal sisters' story reminds us that truth matters. Courage matters. The decisions people make shape generations, and the stories we preserve influence how future generations understand their world. So here's the question I'll leave you with: What stories are your students learning, and what are those stories teaching them about who they are, what they value, and the kind of people they can become? Maybe this week you can make room for one story that deserves to be heard, one voice that has been overlooked, one opportunity for students to examine history and not simply as something that happened, but as something that continues to shape the world they live in.
Roberto Germán [00:16:14]:
Because education isn't simply about helping young people understand the past, It's also about preparing them to participate thoughtfully and courageously in the future. Thank you once again for joining me on another episode of Our Classroom. Until next time, teach the truth, lead with courage, belong to a community that gets it. As always, your engagement in Our Classroom is greatly appreciated. Be sure to subscribe, rate the show, and write a review. For resources to help you understand the intersection of race, bias, education, and society, go to multiculturalclassroom.com. Peace and love from your host, Roberto Germán.
