By Meredith Sisnett,  Freelance Writer

Morning Glooooʻory Erŕeeeboooooddddyyyy!
The words echo in my mind like a rallying cry — a burst of joy and nostalgia wrapped in a childhood memory.

I was in junior high when I received the best Christmas gift ever: a set of brand-new walkie talkies. These weren’t just toys to me — they were portals to adventure. The excitement was electric. The moment I got home from school, I tore open the package and turned them on. That shhhk-shhhk sound before someone speaks? Music to my ears.

It was the ’80s, and Miami Vice was the show of the moment. My friends and I channeled our inner Crockett and Tubbs, reenacting scenes right in our neighborhood streets. We weren’t just playing — we were communicating, strategizing, and building stories in real time, all with the push of a button.

Then came the idea. What if I brought the walkie talkies to school? I needed to test their reach — could they work from classroom to classroom?

Everyone in on the plan was buzzing. Our young minds were fired up, thrilled at the mischief, the challenge, the fun. We learned something that day: concrete walls are not friends to radio waves. But the hallway? Oh, that was our sweet spot.

We laughed, we whispered code words, and we kept trying, undeterred. What I didn’t recognize at the time was this: I was experimenting with communication technology before handheld cell phones were mainstream. I was curious, inventive — brilliant, even. But like so many kids whose creativity strays outside the box, the walkie talkies were confiscated. End of story.

Or was it?

Looking back, I often wonder: What if someone saw my curiosity as a spark to be nurtured instead of a disruption to be shut down? What if I had been encouraged to join a tech club or pursue science? What if more of our kids were treated like future creators instead of problems to be managed?

That thought brings me to today. My beautiful grandbaby starts “big school” this fall.

I’m filled with pride and excitement — and I’d be lying if I didn’t say anxiety too. Today’s schools are not just about reading, writing, and arithmetic. Our children must navigate the tightrope between budget cuts, behavioral expectations, safety concerns, and the deep, undeniable weight of bullying and racism — especially for Black and brown boys.

They are asked to learn in between the cracks, in spite of the chaos, in buildings that don’t always hold space for their brilliance.

But here’s what I know now, and what I hope for my grandbaby and every child stepping into a classroom this fall: It takes a village of love and intentional support to help young minds thrive. It takes adults who see the walkie talkies not as distractions but as doorways. It takes teachers who advocate, parents who protect, and communities that pour into the next generation.

Yes, I’m nervous. But I’m also hopeful.

Hopeful that with enough light and love, no crack will be too wide for our babies to rise through. Hopeful that our collective commitment to equity, encouragement, and excellence will overshadow any system not designed for their success. Hopeful that someone will see in my grandson — and all children — what wasn’t always seen in me: brilliance, creativity, and promise.

So here’s to walkie talkies, childhood wonder, and the generations that carry our stories forward.

Here’s to remembering that sometimes, what looks like play is really genius in disguise.

Meredith Sisnett will be an ongoing contributor to Ujima Magazine. Ujima welcomes her to our writing staff. 

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