by Evelyn San Miguel ‘26

At the very end of her 35 year teaching career, science department head Gina Martin found herself reflecting back. For any AP Psych takers, Erickson’s stages of development may sound familiar. Seeing herself at the end, in the Integrity vs. Despair stage where a person seeks out fulfillment in a life well lived, Martin often vacillates between the two categories. “As I’ve been reflecting, it brings a lot of emotions,” said Martin.

A member of Sherwood’s Class of ‘87, Martin was  class vice president, a Rock N’ Roll Revival participant, and a deeply dedicated student. Being at Sherwood was not without its challenges. Martin’s parents, who were married before interracial marriage was legalized in Maryland in 1967, would often be the only non-white family within their suburban neighborhood.

While a student at Sherwood, Martin found herself constantly questioned. “It’s clear I’m a black woman, and when I walk into a room and everybody is white or white-passing, then it’s all eyes on me,” recounted Martin. “‘What are you doing here? Why are you here? Did you get lost?’ I kind of turned inward and just focused on school.”

Her feelings of isolation were amplified by the words and actions of her classmates. Boys would whisper the ‘n-word’ to her in the hallway, weaponizing her identity against her. It wasn’t only whispers, either. During her junior year while walking down a hallway, Martin was stopped in her tracks. Big white posters hung on the cinderblock walls—dozens of them. She didn’t take notice until her principal came storming down the hallway, tearing them down. On those big, white posters in big, bold letters was advertised Sherwood’s local chapter of the Klu Klux Klan, who were having a meeting in the cafeteria on Wednesday night. It was the late 80s, and that was one of the many times that she felt marginalized in a place she called home.

Across her career, both as a student and as a teacher, Martin was often the only non-white person in the room. “You kind of vacillate between three ways of being. You either try to hide, you try to fit in, or you try to break that stereotype threat, and sometimes you’re three at the same time,” said Martin. She prefers the term non-white because she believes it ensures clarity; she wasn’t just the only African American in the room, but oftentimes she was the only person who wasn’t white. Not only did this perpetuate her feeling of otherness, but also her own self-doubt.

When she came back to Sherwood in 2001 as a science teacher where she would often be the only non-white teacher in her department, Martin felt it became harder to call out racism when she saw it. Whether it was raising concerns with colleagues across the school or out in the world, Martin felt more questioned than her white counterparts. She would have to come prepared—dates, times, quotes. The other person didn’t. Over time, the fight became more exhausting.

Yet, she persisted. Her often adverse experiences pushed her to earn her EdD in curriculum and instruction, with a specific focus on the complex web that is the relationship between race and education. Receiving her doctorate helped prove to herself that she was capable and could be far more successful than the stereotypes that surrounded her. Taking the research from her Ed.D., Martin integrated inclusivity and authenticity into her lessons to both her students and to her colleagues, sharing techniques and strategies to help ensure that no student or teacher would feel out of place no matter their identity.

The hardest part, Martin said about approaching the end of her 35 year career, was not knowing if she truly made an impact; if her efforts were making it to those who needed to hear it most. What inhibits people, Martin said, is not recognizing their own biases. In automatically shutting down moments of conversation or discussion in believing themselves incapable of making mistakes, people stop themselves from truly reflecting inward.

“I think what I realized now is that I was very much caught up in the ones I didn’t think I had reached,” said Martin. “And that makes me feel angry, enraged, and consumed with grief. But I think as I reflect, I start thinking about the people I did reach.”

Martin is just one piece of the grander puzzle to make this world kinder, stronger, and more connected. Martin’s story, while distinctly unique to her, is also reflected by all those others who have also chosen the noble path of public service and of cultivating the next generation of thinkers and listeners. “I think sometimes people think that the work against race bias, religion bias, all of it…that there’s a finish line,” said Martin. “It’s a lifelong journey.”

Some days after sitting for her lengthy interview with The Warrior, Martin wrote a follow-up email. Written as eloquently as she speaks, Martin signed off with hope for the future of Sherwood and its students. She holds deep gratitude for the community that had been with her over the many years, both as a student and later a teacher. As she walks the halls, her younger self still lingers. A picture of her when she attended Sherwood sits in a display case, just outside the main office. “If you can’t spot it, I’ll show you,” she wrote. “Can you imagine that girl walking down the hallway seeing the KKK invitations?”