I always come to AERA (the annual meeting of the American Educational Research Association) with a sense of trepidation and uncertainty.  It’s at a pretty inconvenient time of the year. This year it was across the country from me and because of the way my various commitments lined up, it meant 4 days away from my family and a red-eye flight.

AERA brings up so many insecurities about how I (and my research) aren’t enough and how I haven’t lived up to “my potential” (Note: No one has told me this, but it’s how I feel because of my institutional identity, my personal identity, because I compare myself to others who do amazing research and are in very different spaces).

But this AERA was actually a shift for me.  Perhaps this is because I am weeks away from a tenure and promotion decision.  Perhaps it’s because of the papers that I got accepted, papers that are deeply personal and explore the relationships of personal, racial, mothering and professional (scholar, teacher, teacher educator) identities in my own life as a teacher educator.  Perhaps because there were consistent messages: the importance of doing the work of our hearts; the importance of being critically reflective; the importance of decentering normative traditions of teacher education that keep reproducing inequality; the importance of self-care. Perhaps because of the kindness of scholars who I deeply admire–their encouragement; their acknowledgment that this work isn’t easy; their thoughtful interactions with me.

I am leaving AERA with renewed commitment, with gratitude at the connections made, and with a lot to think about (it is a research conference after all). I am leaving with the reminder that I have a responsibility to not stop with thinking but to move towards action.  I have a responsibility to do the research that is the work of my heart, that reminds me of why I got into the field.  I am leaving with a commitment to collaboration and moving forward in critical self-reflection. I am leaving reminded that life and scholarship and educational transformation is a process.

And I’m so happy to come home to the people that make all of it worth it for me: my family.