In my role as Parent Engagement Coordinator at Wildflower New York Charter School, I feel joy in walking this spiritual journey alongside these parents.
Saturday morning was sunny. The room was set up with decorative floor pillows, light refreshments, and some of the late and infamous Eddie Palmieri instrumental music playing softly in the background.
Seven parents arrived early, the morning light streaming through the windows, chit-chatting while getting refreshments as their children received care from the head of school, Mr. Mario. They came for time for themselves, to be with their school community—because the work we were about to do invites trust, and trust requires warmth.
We began softly. I asked everyone to take three deep belly breaths. Inhale: fill your belly; exhale: release tension through the mouth. Our grounding exercise was the beginning of self-discovery.
Next came truth stories. I asked each parent to bring or share an object, photo, recipe, or memory—something that held meaning. One mom pulled out a ring, a cherished memory of her mother. Another mom brought a button of Atabey, Mother of Waters, representing fresh water and fertility.
For me, I brought my mom’s Héctor Lavoe vinyl. It reminds me of growing up in a Latino household, dancing and singing to salsa music. I used to dance alone, pretending I was performing for a famous singer. Our house was always filled with music—whether lively family parties or our unforgettable Christmas celebrations, complete with parrandas and delicious Boricua food.
One of my favorite songs is Héctor Lavoe’s El Cantante, because it feels like a tribute to the highs and lows of his life.
When people share these stories, something shifts. There are nods. There is laughter. The room grows soft and connected. One parent shared in her survey feedback:
“As a mother of three, I’m extremely grateful for this workshop. As a parent, I struggle with whether I am doing enough while nurturing myself, and it was reassuring to experience such a safe space with vulnerable dialogue. I left uplifted and wanted to do more for myself as an individual, to lead by example with my family and as a human. A wholesome, intimate experience.”
Then we moved into mirror work. We held up small mirrors. “Look at yourself,” I said. “No judgment. Just presence.” We used prompts: What beliefs or patterns do I carry into my parent-self? What do I want to heal—and what do I want to pass on? Some wrote quickly; others stared quietly, breathing deeply.
In sharing, it wasn’t polished. It was messy. And that’s the beauty: messy becomes sacred when we allow it to be.
We closed with slowness: a “walking with wisdom” exercise. Hands behind backs, stepping lightly and mindfully, paying attention to each step in the room. The pace softened our bodies, our voices, and our expectations.
This is something I learned from mi suegra, who embodies unhurriedness, presence, and preparation—teaching us the value of slowness and the sacredness of caring for ourselves in order to care for others.
At the end, I asked: What values do you hold? What do you take with you from today? What kind of parent do you want to be? What kind of self do you want to show up as? Parents responded: more present, more patient, consistent, valuing choice, courage, self-expression, and love. One mother said she will wake up ten minutes earlier just to have her cafecito before the day begins. Some expressed eagerness to do more storytelling like our truth-telling circle with objects meaningful to them, to continue at home as a family.
We ended with a quote:
“I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” — Maya Angelou
This is true if we are present with ourselves in order to be present with others.
Reflections afterward:
The power of culture and memory in parenting can’t be overstated. When people share where they come from, how they were raised, what they carried—and what they want to change—it shapes so much of how they parent.
Spiritual preparation and presence aren’t “extras.” They are the backbone. When parents connect inwardly, their outward actions shift. Discipline becomes gentler, listening deepens, and patience becomes possible.
Takeaways for anyone doing this work:
Hold stories with reverence.
Do mirror work even when it feels awkward—it’s often where growth begins.
Slow moments matter.
Honor culture—language, food, music, family history—alongside spiritual work.
Always circle back: What has changed inside me today? How will I show up differently tomorrow?
Schedule a Weekly Family “Truth Circle” or Storytelling Time: Connection, cultural grounding, and complex language during storytelling strengthen both family bonds and children’s literacy skills1
Following my blog post on The Spirit of the Guide, I invite you to explore Rooted and Rising, a resource for parents, guides, and educators looking to cultivate grounding and presence.
Research (a longitudinal study, Family Life Project) has found that children whose mothers used engaging and complex language while storytelling in early years developed stronger language and literacy skills through elementary school.
Study link