Equity in the Classroom

After reading a classmates blog post regarding explicitly teaching about racism in class, I was inspired to weigh in on this topic as well. A little background... I was born and raised in a (mostly white) suburb outside of Pittsburgh PA. I was raised to believe that all people matter and should be valued and loved, so because of this, I never considered myself "racist." I was all good, I didn't hate anyone. What I never realized was that, in my isolation, I never actually had to face any situations where racism would have surfaced in my daily life. I went to school with only white people. I lived in a neighborhood with only white people. Nobody in my family used racial slurs or said discriminatory or bigoted things. My grandma even claimed to be "color blind" every time she lovingly told the stories about my late grandfather and his "colored" best friend, Clarence. In my high school, I had a few black and brown classmates, but everyone seemed to get along. Again, it all seemed a-okay! I now know that this is the very definition of white privilege. The ability to go through life blissfully unaware of problems that deeply affect entire groups of people EVERY DAY.

As I got older, I slowly opened my eyes and began to become more aware. I vividly remember one afternoon, riding the city bus alone in the city for the first time. I'd used the city buses before, but always with a group of friends. This time, it was just me, and I was one of the only white people on the bus. I was probably 17 or 18 years old. I remember feeling simultaneously afraid, and guilty for feeling afraid. What was I afraid of? Nothing in particular, I just was, and I couldn't help it. I knew it didn't make sense, and I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't NOT FEEL it. I think that was the first time I began realizing that everything was not as rosy and idealistic as I once pretended it was. It was step one of trying to see outside of my isolated bubble, and question the world around me.

Fast forward: I am 44 years old now. The fear I felt that day on the bus, is gone. I moved out of my isolated suburb and lived for 20+ years in a gloriously diverse community in Rhode Island. I listened to and learned from a lot of people of color over the years, both in person and through reading and listening to voices available in the world. I was heartbroken and saddened to hear the retrospective stories of one of my former black classmates and friend, how she was spoken down to by teachers, made fun of by students, and struggled daily because she always felt like a partial outsider. All the while she never talked to us (her white friends) about it, and all while I bopped along seeing the world through my rose colored glasses. I didn't want my children to grow up as oblivious as me.  I purposefully choose schools for my children that were not only diverse, but that value diversity as a founding value. And I make sure we talk openly about issues regarding racism, sexism, homophobia, ect. ect. ect. on a very regular basis. We talk about micoaggressions, problematic unconscious bias and ways of thinking, and how to deal with outright bigotry out in the world. They even call me out sometimes when I need to be enlightened or reminded. Eventually, I even explained to my (very old) grandma why being "color-blind" was not the good thing she always thought it was. To my relief, she understood, and she stopped explaining her affection for Clarence in that way.

I know I still have SO MUCH to learn and understand. I know I also still retreat into my privilege whenever it is convenient, or when I feel tired, or when it all gets too hard, or when I STILL don't know any better. I know people of color can not do this, no matter how much they may need to at times. I know there is a lot of work to be done. I will try my best to do it.

Which brings me to the topic of explicitly talking about/teaching about racism in the classroom. I taught in Providence Rhode Island for the past eight years. My student body was primarily Hispanic, mostly from the Dominican Republic, but we had Black students, Cambodian students, Arabic students, and a sprinkling of other students as well. We talked about racism in class all the time. It was a part of their lives. It was unavoidable. But we talked mostly from my students points of view, which, I'm sure benefited my growth much more than it helped them. It was important for them to feel they had a voice, and to be listened to, but I don't think it was ground-breaking in any important way. The district tried to provide representation in it's curriculum and in it's staff, but never really brought up the topic of race, or how racism might affect our district in any major way. There did not seem to be any examination of systemic racism within our organization. It was not openly talked about or evaluated. I thought about it a lot. I talked about it with colleagues. But nothing ever seemed to make an impact outside of individual classrooms. Nothing seemed to improve or change.

This year, after moving to Connecticut, I accepted a new position at Manchester High School in Manchester, Connecticut. It is very diverse, with no one group of people seeming to have a majority. This is one of the things that attracted me to the school. I felt like it was an opportunity to teach in a powerful environment, with real potential to continue to grow, and to contribute to change. The week before school started, we had professional development, and I was so relieved and excited to see "Equity" as a major theme throughout the entire week. They talked about the ways that inequity has historically been in play systemically and what needs to change. They talked about how each of us must play a part. We as a diverse staff had real and vulnerable conversations. We had guest speakers including some of the students from the school, who did not sugar coat or fear calling out the phenomenon of fragility that sometimes accompanies whiteness. We were all given the chance to speak truthfully in a safe environment, whether or not we all agreed with everything that was being said. One of the things that stuck with me the most, as voiced by a black colleague of mine, was, "I don't want an ally, I want an accomplice!" That really said it all to me. It is better to be an ally than an enemy, but it won't really make a difference in the end. It's easy. You can be an ally without really making much of a sacrifice. An accomplice requires skin in the game. An accomplice can help make change happen.

I know it made some of us uncomfortable. It was not always a feel good conversation. But the important part was that the conversation was happening, and will continue to happen. My highlight, and the part that gave me literal goosebumps, and made me so proud to have joined this community, was at convocation when we were treated to a spoken word performance piece done as a collaboration between the students in our Youth Equity Squad and several teachers. The piece challenged teachers to question their ways of thinking and their good intentions. It showed that it is okay to be vulnerable and step into new territory. It neither condemned nor condoned. It was a brave, thought-provoking piece, which I encourage all teachers to watch.

These young people give me so much hope! They inspire me and humble me. I am lucky to have the opportunity to "teach" them. We are blessed that they will be the leaders of tomorrow.