The Way the Cookie Crumbles, Mr. Scramble

It’s hard to pinpoint Spanish teacher Carlos Bravo’s specific claim to fame. Is it his old-fashioned teaching style? His diligent patrolling over our chaotic cafeteria? His many catchphrases (“That’s the way the cookie crumbles, Mr. Scramble!”)? It’s difficult to understand exactly who Señor Bravo is. If you really want to know who the legendary Spanish teacher is, you need to start from the beginning.

“My childhood was wonderful,” he explained.

Bravo doesn’t hold back when describing his early years. Born in Bogotá, Colombia, his childhood was characterized by lots of laughter, playtime, and no electronics besides the Bravo family radio. Despite his strict parents (or possibly because of them), Bravo loved his youth fervently.

From ages seven to 10, Bravo attended a public Catholic school, Brothers of la Salle, in Toledo, Spain, which would not be the last time he moved before adulthood. At 14 years old, his life changed dramatically when he moved from his home in Colombia to New York City, where he lived with his uncle and aunt. Bravo can vividly recall the mood of New York City in the 1970s: “In the ’70s, the fashion was different. People were wearing bell-bottoms, platform shoes, different colors, [and] flamboyant shoes.” To Bravo, New York City during that decade was a colorful hub of culture.

Everything was going according to plan for Bravo—right up until it wasn’t.

Bravo was part of a tragic car accident at the end of his teenage years. He had planned to attend Georgetown University that fall, but the accident forced him to reconsider the life plan he had set for himself. Instead of Georgetown, he decided to attend Seton Hall University and then St. John’s for his postgraduate program.

“I was not thinking about becoming a teacher at first. I wanted to be a diplomat,” Bravo recalled. “I liked to talk to people [and] see other cultures.” However, he found the perfect way to blend culture and education: become a high school language teacher. Many teachers’ journeys to Stuyvesant were tumultuous, hopping between schools and educational programs before eventually landing there. Bravo’s story was a bit different: “I applied, and I got accepted.” It was as simple as that. With no teaching experience at any other high school prior to this, Bravo became Stuyvesant High School’s newest Spanish teacher.

Bravo started at Stuyvesant, took a brief stint at other schools in the city, but returned a few years later. “For me, Stuyvesant is different from other schools I’ve seen or been at. I really like the dedication, persistence, and drive that the students here have,” he said. During his years here, Bravo has made a name for himself. His preference for old-fashioned teaching methods makes him a unique presence in the language department. His extensive worldwide experience influences the way he teaches at Stuyvesant. “You never see me sitting down, sad, or energyless,” the teacher quipped with a smile.

Bravo tries to transmit his enthusiasm to his students: “I always tell my students [that] whatever they put in their coconut [is] what they are. Do the best you can, do everything with love and compassion, and fly as high as you can.”

So what’s next for Bravo? For him, the answer to that question can’t be summed up in a single sentence of a set goal. “They say you have to live in the present; do not dwell in the past, and don’t yearn for the future. But personally, I feel like the good memories in the past give you the right satisfaction for the present,” he said. While this didn’t provide concrete insight on what Bravo has in the pipeline, it does give valuable insight into his character: relentlessly positive and optimistic.

That’s all Bravo has to say for now. ¡Hasta la pasta!