Keeping business going, one strand at a time

Published Jan. 27, 2009
The Enterprise of Brockton, Mass.
womynzone
By Elizabeth O’Hara
Special to The Enterprise
ABINGTON — The salon is buzzing with lively chatter on a Saturday morning. The air smells of hair products. Foils are ruffling in the background.
But this is no chi-chi salon. Run out of the basement of Gayle Cronin's Abington home, Studioo 23 is more "Steel Magnolias" than Newbery Streeet.
Cronin, 27, is a new breed of of businesswomen who set up shop at home.
The business is one of the millions now owned by women in the country.Women-owned firms are keeping pace with all firms, according to the Center for Women’s Business Research.
And those businesses are keeping other people employed.The center estimates that of the 10.1 million of firms women have at least a 50 percent stake in, at least 13 million people are employed.
Those businesses generate nearly $2 trillion in annual revenues.
Cronin’s business started slowly and had roots in another woman-owned business.
Previously called Lorraine’s in Whitman, Studio 23 started in 2001 by Cronin and two of her classmates from South Shore Vocational Technical High School in Hanover.
The previous owner had turned the studio in Whitman — along with many of her clients — over to Cronin.
“You can’t beat the prices and they are so friendly,” said Maureen Bierwert, 54, a former Lorraine’s patron.
As her business developed, Cronin decided she needed a better space and moved into a small studio on North Avenue in Abington. Nearly all of her clients followed.
Erin Bierwert, 18, of Whitman is one of Cronin’s loyal clients and had also been a client at Lorraine’s.
“They actually listen to what you want done and they’re so friendly,” Bierwert said.
The staff is what draws people from neighboring communities, several said.
“The girls are great. I love what they do with my hair and they’re always so helpful and friendly,” said Meghan Moore, 19, of Plymouth.
Business was great but with a husband and son, Cronin said it was a lot to juggle and sometimes was a struggle.
“I wanted to feel like I could easily manage both my family and my business,” said Cronin.
So, in 2007, she moved Studio 23 in the basement of her newly built house in Abington. Both Cronin and her clients say the the new location is great.
“Oh, I love the new space,” said Maureen Bierwert.
With her business downstairs, Cronin said she has struck the right balance between work and family.
“It’s a lot easier. I feel like I can do both now,” said Cronin.
Still a growing business, Studio 23 has become a comfortable place, several clients said .
“It’s like one of those beauty salons you see in movies where everyone in the place knows your name,” said Bierwert.
The inscription on the wall as you’re sitting down to get your hair done says “Live well, love much, laugh often.”
It is a philosophy embraced at the salon, several said.
“It’s great. It’s not like one of those intimidating, intense beauty salons where they’re all business,” Maureen Bierwert said.
Kelly Gorman, a freshman at Stonehill College in Easton, said she was struck by how friendly everyone was when she went there.
“They’re awesome. I actually was there the other day and they offered me cake from Gale’s birthday,” said Gorman.
Cronin said it is all about enjoying what you do.
“I love my job. At the end of the day, I know that I own my success. Even when the economy goes bad, I know that I depend on myself for my paycheck,” said Cronin.

“Three Cups of Tea” co-author speaks at Stonehill College

Published Sept. 22, 2008, The Enterprise of Brockton, Mass.

enterprisenews.com

By Christopher Confrey
EASTON — Greg Mortenson shuffled onto the stage, looking uneasy. “Peace be with you,” he told the hundreds of people gathered at Stonehill College’s sports complex.
Moments earlier, Mortenson had been introduced as a man who, through the power of education, brought hope to countless Pakistani and Afghani people.
He appeared at Stonehill College to recount his story, turned into the New York Times bestseller, “Three Cups of Tea,” of how he overcame what seemed to be insurmountable obstacles to build schools for girls in the two countries.
Dressed in a camel-colored suit and red tie, Mortenson explained the meaning of his book’s title — a common saying in the Pakistani culture.
“The first time you share tea with a Balti, you are a stranger. The second time you take tea, you are an honored guest. The third time you share a cup of tea, you become family,” Mortenson said. Balti is an ethnic group in Pakistan.
It was through taking the time to share those cups of tea and spend time with people that he built the bonds needed in the project, he said.
Mortenson grew up knowing what is needed to develop projects in other countries. He was raised near Mount Kilimanjaro in northern Tanzania where his parents were Christian missionaries. His father was the founder of the Kilimanjaro Christian Medical Center and his mother founded the International School Moshi.
Upon returning to the United States for high school, Mortenson planned on becoming a doctor. He wanted to provide health care to people in rural Africa.
After finishing a tour in the military, Mortenson — who is also a mountain climber — went to college on the G.I. bill, and became a nurse.
The aspiring doctor’s plans changed while he was climbing the Karakoram Mountains in northern Pakistan. After unsuccessfully making it to the summit of the mountain, Moretenson came across the remote village of Korphe.
That is when his career plans changed.
“When I saw the 84 children sitting in the dirt behind Korphe village on a crisp autumn morning … writing with sticks in the sand, that was all it took — Eureka! moment — for me to decide to build a school,” he said.
Mortenson traveled back to the United States to raise money to build the school. He wrote letters asking for money, held fundraisers and sold many of his possessions, including his car and climbing equipment, to raise enough money to start the school.
“If you have hope, you can do anything,” Mortenson said.
But raising the money, it turned out, wasn’t enough.
When he returned to Pakistan , Mortenson learned that before he could build a school, he had to build a bridge so people could get there. So Mortenson used the money he raised for the school to build a bridge.
Penniless, Mortenson returned to the United States and raised an additional $10,000 and once again returned to Pakistan to complete the school.
Witnessing the hope and joy the school brought the people of the small village, Mortenson said he made it his mission to build more schools in remote places across Pakistan and Afghanistan. He founded the Central Asia Institute, a nonprofit organization, geared toward building schools. To date, the organization has 64 schools in the two countries.
After the Sept. 11, 2001, terrorist attacks, Mortenson began receiving hate mail and death threats. But his wife encouraged him to continue.
More than a decade after opening his first school in a small village in Pakistan, Mortenson now travels across the United States talking about his dream of bringing hope and opportunity to the world through education.
Mortenson told his recent Stonehill audience that great strides have been made in educating the Middle East.
“In the last eight years, there are eight times as many children in schools in Pakistan and Afghanistan,” he said.

Men Work for Peace and Good Will in Wake of 9/11 Attacks.

By Genevieve Quinn

Looking around, all Brian Kavanagh could see was dust, dirt, and smoke. Then came one of the most beautifully haunting things he had ever witnessed. Before him a monarch butterfly, fluttering peacefully, oblivious to the horror and destruction that surrounded it on that New York City street, the morning of September 11th, 2001.

Joseph Spalluto was driving to his daughter’s middle school in West Hartford, Conn., when he heard the news that a commercial jet had struck the north tower of the World Trade Center. Seventeen minutes after the first plane hit, a second struck the south tower, where Spalluto’s work office was located.

Both men were transformed by the events of that day. While most Americans remember what they were doing on September 11th, few can relate to the chilling experiences of Brian Kavanagh and Joseph Spalluto, two ordinary people who found themselves facing the worst horrors imaginable.

Kavanagh, 65, a peace activist from Hartford, Conn., had spent over a month in New York City, participating in a 40 day liquid fast to protest United States involvement in Iraq. The activists would gather each day in front of the United Nations Building, distributing posters and leaflets to raise awareness.

“It was a beautiful September day, just gorgeous. The sky was clear blue.”, said Kavanagh.

Though something didn’t seem right. A bunch of police officers were holding radios to their ears, listening intently. People in front of the U.N building started yelling, and as he looked down 1st Avenue, all he could see were flashing lights and hear the sound of sirens.

He spoke to a police officer, and learned the shocking news. Kavanagh then walked towards 5th Avenue.

“It was like a volcanic eruption. And so strange, the contrast from the smoke and haze on one side of the city with the clear blue sky on the other.”

Then there was the monarch butterfly, “horrific that this beautiful jewel should exist amongst everything.”

Kavanagh then knew he had to get out of the city. After hours of walking, switching trains, and mind numbing fear, he arrived in New Haven, Conn., exhausted and in a daze, a daze that hasn’t completely lifted seven years later.

Kavanagh also saw one of his life missions die that day. As soon as he heard that Islamic/Arab groups were suspected in the attacks, anger overwhelmed him. He had spent many years trying to advocate for the people of the Middle East, raising awareness towards the sanctions in Iraq and various other issues.

“In one swoop, all our hard work was gone. They’ve never had a chance since.”

Kavanagh believes that any chance of peace between the U.S and the Middle East and U.S aid for the suffering there was gone with the collapse of the towers.

“I don’t like to think about it much.”

Kavanagh admits he still hasn’t come to grips with everything that happened that day, and the experiences he faced will always haunt him. He continues his activism work and quest to promote peaceful relations in the world.

Joseph Spalluto, 49, has worked for the company Keefe Bruyette & Woods Inc., for 27 years. The company had offices in the South Tower of the World Trade Center, on the 88th and 89th floors. United Airlines Flight 175 crashed into the tower, hitting the 78th through the 85th floors.

On September 11th Spalluto wasn’t in New York. His wife, Ellen Spalluto, insisted that he be in the Hartford area early that evening for a retirement party for his father in law. This turned out to be a surprise party celebrating Spalluto’s 20th anniversary with the company.

What should have been a day of celebration turned into a day of shock and horror. Spalluto came to learn that 67 of his colleagues had been killed. Had he been in his office that day, he would have been working three floors above where United Flight 175 hit.

“Clearly the events of that day affected me and my work and my memories forever,” he said.
The chilling thoughts of what could have happened to him that day have taught him many lessons.
“Things can change and you can never replace your family and loved ones.”
Spalluto has learned to not make work such a priority, and to focus on family, friends, and living life.
Keefe, Bruyette & Woods was relocated to 787 7th Ave. “Midtown-as opposed to downtown, since the scars of seeing that site each day was more than we wanted to put people through.”
They also chose to stay as low to the ground as possible, choosing the 4th and 5th floors.
Spalluto has dedicated a lot of his time to honor those lost that day through MyGoodDeed.org, an organization seeking to make September 11 a national day of volunteerism.

Each anniversary the members of the firm get together and volunteer, and they also visit a memorial dedicated to their 67 lost colleagues, located in the Central park zoo.

College Debt Makes Beginning a Career Difficult

By Ashley Savard

Many students coming out of college are now faced with overwhelming debts with little hope of paying them off.
"I definitely don't think I'm currently making enough to pay off student loans after graduation," Amy Lynn McCracken said.
Loans have become the primary means of paying for education, and with the cost of tuition increasing at twice the rate of inflation, according to Smart Student Guide to Financial Aid, it is becoming more difficult for college graduates to pay off their debts.
Private loans, which carry higher interest rates than federal loans, have increased by 734 percent since the previous decade, according to The College Board.
A number of college graduates have a hard time finding jobs that enable them to pay off their loans quickly and with ease.
About 8 percent of college seniors had loans amounting to $40,000 in the year 2004, according to the Project on Student Debt.
Some graduates, such as Tom Aldrich, found that jobs can pay enough to live on while paying off loans.
"The job fortunately allows me to live comfortably and pay off student loans," Aldrich said.
Aldrich is a graduate of Stonehill College, works for Sandler O'Neill & Partners, L.P.
"I believe having a college degree should require a higher pay because that degree was an investment that opens doors to greater opportunities," Aldrich said.
Kimberely Roussin, a Stonehill College graduate who works for Commonwealth Medicine, said that beginning wages should be higher to help students pay off their loans when they first enter the work force. Roussin began working in the social work field making $17,000.
"Money was tight. I think being in the workforce for 20 years has allowed me to attain a decent salary so I can now live comfortably without any loans," Roussin said.
Tim Gannon, a senior at Stonehill College, said entry level salaries are pretty fair, depending on the degree.
"Most students going into the work force with a degree have an idea about how much money they're going to make and plan around it," Gannon said.
Gannon said a lot depends upon how much work students are willing to put into outside scholarships.
"There are an innumerable amount of scholarships out there that many people are not even aware of because most people don't do the research," Gannon said.
Christina Burney, associate director of Stonehill Career Services, and Benjamin Chalot, assistant director of Stonehill Career Services agreed and said students coming out of high school should try as hard as possible to find more scholarships.
The cost of attending a four year college, such as Stonehill College, increases by about $1,000 a year, similar to the cost of living, Burney said.
In some ways this has made colleges more accountable, said both Burney and Chalot.
"Parents are greatly concerned with what their child will be doing when they graduate," said Burney.
Colleges are now asked to produce "outcomes" for their students. In order to make themselves more marketable, colleges have to put more effort into what students will be doing after graduation, said Chalot.
Colleges have to be able to give students the means to attain a job, make connections, and make enough money to support themselves, he said.
Most employers don't take student loans and college debt into account when they determine salaries, Burney said. She said they look at other factors, such as cost of living.
Factors such as the increase in housing costs has started to steer certain students into different career tracks, said Burney.
"It doesn't bother me to write that check," said Burney, who is still paying off her college loans.
She said that paying off loans just becomes part of your life and you just get used to it.
Burney said one of the most important things students can do to minimize debt coming out of college is to not use credit cards.
According to Nellie Mae, a Sallie Mae Student Loan Company, nearly 75 percent of undergraduate students in 2004 began the year with credit cards.
"The last thing you need is to be making payments on a credit card," Burney said.
Both Burney and Chalot said that students should consider working first before moving on to graduate school.
Many organizations and companies will pay for students to receive a higher education in their field, said Chalot. Students can also look for fellowships, he said.
Service institutions such as AmeriCorps or the Peace Corps will forgive up to $5,000 of loans for one year of service, Chalot said.
Burney said the best way to come out of college making more money is to make yourself marketable by getting internships and making your resume more attractive to employers.

Stonehill Student & World Ranked Fiddle Player

By: Christopher Confrey

She picked up her first fiddle at the age of five and by 11 she became the under 12 world champion fiddle player.
Maeve Flanagan, now an 18 year – old sophomore at Stonehill College, has been surrounded by music her entire life. “My mom and dad play the fiddle, they met through music,” Flanagan, a Pearl River, New York native said.
“The fiddle has always been there for me. Whenever my life gets stressful or I am feeling down, I know I can always turn to music,” Flanagan said. “I have met my best friends and have had the greatest experiences through music.”
“A fiddle and a violin are the same instrument,” Flanagan said. She explained that fiddle is a slang word for violin and refers to a more interpretative type of music as opposed to classical music.
“I hated playing at first. I put the fiddle up to my neck and I thought it was choking me,” she said.
With practice, though, Flanagan became more comfortable. “My mom would tape record tunes for me to learn and I would practice in my room for an hour a day,” she said.
By the time summer came, Flanagan, then six, became tired of the demands fiddling took on her time. “I learned to beat the system,” she said. “I would record myself playing the tunes I needed to practice and put them on repeat by the door to my room. My mom heard the tape and thought I was practicing away!”
“My mother caught on and I told her I wanted to quit and would rather go swimming with my friends,” Flanagan said.
For the rest of the summer, Flanagan kept her violin in its case. “I did not push her that first summer,” Rose, Flanagan’s mother said. “She was young and I understood she wanted to play with her friends.”
Like her daughter, Rose Conway-Flanagan came from a family of music. “My father played, but he never taught me or my brother,” she said. “My mother had heard some other children play and then decided she wanted us to play too.”
By the end of that summer, Flanagan decided she would give fiddling a second change. “The summer had ended and I was giving all of her friends’ lessons, so she wanted to come back,” Flanagan’s mother said.
At the age of 8, Flanagan began taking group lessons with her uncle, Brian Conway. The lessons were once a week for 45 minutes. “He was a tough teacher,” Flanagan said. “One girl started crying at the beginning of every class is anticipation of the upcoming lesson.”
Each week, Flanagan’s uncle taught the group a new tune. “He would teach us bit by bit, and then we would have to repeat it over and over until we memorized it,” Flanagan said.
Flanagan began fiddling competitions at the age of nine.
Her first competition was at Manhattan College. Flanagan placed third in the under twelve competition. “I played a waltz, and I played it wrong,” she said with a smile.
The next year, Flanagan, then ten, played first at the Manhattan College competition which meant she advanced to the Fleadh Cheoil na Eireann or Music Competition of Ireland.
“I went with my dad and my best friend Deirdre who also played the fiddle,” Flanagan said.
The competition in Ireland was like nothing Flanagan had ever seen in the United Sates.
“There were competitors from Ireland, Australia, Scotland and Saudi Arabia,” Flanagan said.
She did not place at the competition, but was not disappointed. “I didn’t really care, I was just having fun in Ireland with Deirdre,” she said.
The next year, Flanagan began taking her fiddling more seriously. “I practiced a lot more, and this time I knew what to expect” she said.
That year, Flanagan, 11, once again qualified for the Music Competition of Ireland. “I was not nervous because I had nothing to lose,” she said.
“I played two tunes, a real called Bonnie Kate and a jig called Keys to The Convent,” Flanagan said.
“After I played I heard an old Irish man say, ‘if that wee Yankee girl doesn’t win there is something wrong here,’” Flanagan said.
“I played my heart out and placed first,” Flanagan said. “I clearly remember winning. I had beaten an Irish boy who was favored to win. They called me by name and gave me a trophy with Eileen Ivers’, the most famous Irish musician’s, name on it. Then I played an encore,” Flanagan said.
“After a year I had to give the trophy back. My mother arranged for me to take professional pictures with my violin and my trophy which was so embarrassing,” she said.
Following her win, making her the top ranked under 12 fiddler in the world, playing the fiddle changed for Flanagan. “Before I won, no one knew who I was, there was no pressure, after though, it became so much harder,” she said.
At the age of 18, before returning to Stonehill College for her sophomore year, Flanagan competed in the senior competition in Ireland, the winner of which would be named the best fiddler in the world. Though extremely nervous, Flanagan placed third.
Today, Flanagan plays at venues all across the Northeast. “I have played at weddings, Irish Dancing competitions, Ellis Island, and in bars, a lot of bars,” Flanagan said.
Now a sophomore, Flanagan plays for her peers at Stonehill’s Concert Coffeehouse.
Her fellow students admire her talent. “I think it’s refreshing to see such a young person be so dedicated and not ashamed of it,” Megan Cross, Flanagan’s friend and roommate said.
Others recognize her rare gifts. “It’s a very unique talent that you don’t see too often and it’s great to be exposed to it,” fellow student Nicole Brisbois said. “She does a great office theme song,” friend Kevin Gill said.
Flanagan says her ultimate goal would be to win seniors at the Music Competition of Ireland. “I’ll never stop playing the fiddle,” Flanagan said. “I am going to make my kids play the fiddle because my mom made me and now I’m obsessed with it.”
“I don’t know where my life is going to take me but I know music is going to be a huge part of my life,” Flanagan said.

Tattoos & Young Women

By: Christopher Confrey

Daddy’s little girl isn’t what she used to be.
Recent studies show tattoos are not a passing craze. More and more people are getting inked up every year and a record number of those people are young women.
“I got my first tattoo because I wanted one, not because something significant happened in my life,” a bartender and waitress from New City, Cheryl Ann Rodriguez said. “I think people can become hooked on tattoos, after getting my first I immediately began thinking about what I would get next.”
The National Geographic News reported in April 2000 that 15 percent of Americans or approximately 40 million people were tattooed. Of the 40 million, 36 percent were between the ages of 18 and 25 and 55 percent were women a fall 2006 survey by the Pew Research Center revealed.
“I got my first tattoo when I was 17,” Rodriguez said. “My friends and I went together, I used a fake id and got a nautical star on my tramp stamp,” Rodriguez, now 23 said.
By “tramp stamp” Rodriguez is referring to her lower back region, a popular location for tattoos among young women.
The next year, Rodriguez, then 18 had gotten another star tattoo, this time, on her stomach.
Rodriguez says she looks past the pain. “It’s not the type of pain that makes you jump away, the buzzing sound makes it so much worse,” she said.
In addition to her two star tattoos Rodriguez has what she describes as a scary angel on her left shoulder, a heart that points into an arrow on her left wrist, horseshoe prints on the top of her right foot, a tribal design in between her shoulders and a full sleeve of flowers on her right arm. A person achieves a sleeve when their entire upper arm, including the shoulder is covered in tattoos.
There are many young women who are open to the idea of getting a tattoo but have not actually done it yet.
“I definitely want to get a tattoo,” 19 year – old Stonehill College sophomore Anna Gills said. “I like the way they look, I think they are cool. I haven’t gotten a tattoo yet because I don’t know what I would get, nothing extremely significant has happened in my life yet. I am also scared of needles, they make me feel queasy.”
Gills, like many others, feel tattoos are a form of expression. “Tattoos say a lot about a person like their clothing or hairstyle, tattoos are just more permanent,” Gillis said.
“I would be open to getting multiple tattoos,” Gillis also said.
While millions of young women have gotten tattoos and millions more are planning on it, there are those who say they will never make a trip to the tattoo parlor.
“I don’t think I could ever care about anything enough to have it permanently on by body,” 20 year – old college sophomore Stephanie Mealey said.
There are many other factors young women must take into consideration other then where and what tattoo to get.
“I want to be a lawyer and I feel like I wouldn’t be taken seriously if I had a tattoo,” Mealey said.
Rodriguez, the bartender, understands that she has been stereotyped because of her tattoos. “I 100 percent know I am judged for my tattoos,” Rodriguez said. “I have no problem with people having their own ideas and opinions, I am not stupid, I work at two restaurants, and at one I have to wear long sleeves because the owner doesn’t think my tattoos are appropriate.”
“Some guy told me I was going to hell because the bible says you shouldn’t mark your body,” she said.
Rodriguez says she is ridiculed for her tattoos but usually takes it in stride.
“People always comment on my tattoos and I don’t take it personally I usually just answer their questions and they leave me alone. One day though a women came into a pizza place I work at and looked and me and said, ‘if you were my daughter I would kill you’ and I took her comment really personally and responded ‘if I were your daughter I would kill myself,’” Rodriguez said.
Many women also get tattoos in places that can easily be covered up. “I would get a tattoo on a place on my body that I could cover up for professional reasons, I wouldn’t want it to hinder my chances of getting a job,” Gillis said.
The stigma attached with tattoos also plagues many young, inked women. A 2003 Harris Poll found that 57 percent of people perceived tattoos as rebellious.
“I am not some biker chick running around in leather. There is nothing odd about me,” Rodriguez said. “I know I will be labeled as that mom when I have kids but I have accepted the fact that I am going to be a mom that has a lot of tattoos.”
Fear of what family or friends might think has also prevented many young women from getting a tattoo. “My father would kill me if I ever got a tattoo” Mealey said.
Rodriguez admits her parents were upset when they learned she had gotten a tattoo. “I hid it for a while but the more tattoos I got; the harder it became to hide. My mother was really upset at first, she didn’t yell, she wouldn’t talk to me for a few days. Now though, she accepts me for whom I am,” she said.
Permanence is something many young women must take into consideration before applying the ink.
“I would never want to get a tattoo because its forever and I don’t know how I might feel about something in 50 years,” Mealey said.
Despite the forever aspect tattoos give, the American Society of Dermatological Surgery, reported in 2005, that of all the people they treat with laser and light therapy, only 6% are getting a tattoo removed.
Rodriguez says she does not regret getting any of the numerous tattoos she has. “I might put them in a different place or change the design a little, but I would never take any away. Each tattoo means a lot to me,” she said.

Local Teacher Honored in DC

By: Kate Shively

It’s 2:05 on a Friday afternoon in a small town in Massachusetts when the final bell at the local high school rings.

As if a levy has broken, students begin pouring out of every doorway of the school, heading in different directions. Some call to their friends while others run to catch buses or walk to the local Hess station.

As the school quickly empties in preparation for the weekend, Catherine Cabral bustles around the office space that she shares with more than seven other math teachers at Somerset High School, chatting animatedly with students and coworkers. She is dressed professionally, wearing a black sweater with black and white cropped pants.

The bulletin board behind her is filled with pictures of Cabral posing with students within the classroom, along with birthday cards given to her by her classes. Above her desk, a red and white square magnet hangs from a filing cabinet.

“There are women who change the world every day…women like you,” it says in small red calligraphy.

“My colleague gave me that magnet after I won my award,” Cabral, 51, said as she settled into her desk, a prideful smile crossing her face.

Cabral recently received an award called the Presidential Award for Excellence in Mathematics and Science Teaching (PAEMST) for the academic year of 2007. The award is given out annually to one mathematics teacher from every state who “serves as a model for their colleagues, inspires their communities, and leads in the improvement of mathematics and science education.”

Cabral was nominated for the award by David Lanczycki, her former student, colleague and current boss.

Initially after her nomination Cabral didn’t want to submit a PAEMST application. She said she avoided it. It was due on May 1, 2007 but she only finally decided to begin the application process on March 28, after speaking to her daughter about it.

“She told me I had to. All I ever taught my kids was to work towards their goals and to strive forward. I wanted to be a good example for them,” she said.

To proceed through the competition, Cabral had to write a 20-page paper about the aspects of education, submit a 30-minute unedited video of her interactions in the classroom, supply proof and documentation of how she assesses her students and get three letters of recommendation.

“I cried when I read the references,” she said, her eyes beginning to tear.

“For the paper I sat at the computer and I just typed my heart and soul. I needed to get it done. To me, the most difficult thing about it was the grammar.”

Cabral said that when she finally mailed it off to be reviewed, she felt relieved.

“As an educator, it allowed me to see my strengths and weaknesses. I think every teacher needs to do something like that at some point,” she said.

Three months passed before Cabral heard anything, and the competition quickly faded from her thought process.

“I never expected to actually win,” she said. “I kept asking ‘What are the odds of me winning this?’”

The odds were better than she thought. In July of 2007 Cabral received an email saying she was a state finalist. On the weekend of her birthday she found out she had won.

“I didn’t tell the school about it at first,” Cabral said, laughing. “I only told my family and close friends. I was proud but it was personal for me.”

Later, in April of 2008, Cabral and her family were flown to Washington D.C. to attend Recognition Week, where the finalists participated in various activities including museum visits, federal agency breakfasts, professional developmental sessions, and award ceremonies.

“I felt so proud to be an educator during that time…proud to be an American,” Cabral said. “It was just one of the proudest times in my life.”

Cabral, whose mother was also a teacher at Somerset High School, had always wanted to be an educator—but not for high school. In college she was an elementary education major, but she became certified for grade levels K-12 after her advisor pushed her to continue taking mathematics courses.

After college, Cabral was given the opportunity to write and edit math books—a high-paying job at the time.

She turned it down.

“I went to school to teach, not to write math books,” she said proudly, pointing her finger in the air.

Cabral has since gotten numerous other opportunities at higher paying positions, including content coordinator for the high school. She’s refused all of them.

“I just love being in the classroom,” she said. “The kids keep me young. I have no desire to retire. I like what I do.”

Cabral got to see the full extent of what she does while in a professional association meeting at Recognition week, where she met with mathematicians and engineers.

“I don’t usually get to see the end product of where my students end up, but there I got to see it firsthand. I realized that these kids I’m teaching are out running our country. I was able to see the result of what I do.”

In recognition of her award, Cabral received a citation signed by President Bush, gifts from program sponsors, and a $10,000 award from the National Science Foundation.

Cabral teaches numerous classes ranging from SAT prep to Calculus I and tries her hardest to make the material easy and understandable for everyone.

For example, she took a call from a parent concerned about her child’s progress in an SAT preparatory course that she teaches. She proceeded to inform the parent exactly what she does in her class, what the student could do outside the classroom to improve his work, what she views as the student’s weaknesses and which homework assignments would be most beneficial for him to study.

“I don’t care what the superintendent or the principal thinks about me. I care what the kids think of me. They’re the ones I see everyday. They’re the ones that matter, Cabral later said, a smirk crossing her face. “That’s my success.”