
Entry # 18: A "zero indifference"
approach to racial tensions and violence
What makes kids see a school as "their school," and not just
the school they're assigned to attend? This question has been troubling
me for a long time, but today I'm feeling a particularly urgent need to
answer it.
The explosion of racial tensions in our high school this week has left me
feeling frustrated and unsettled, because many adults still refuse to look
beyond a particular incident to the bigger picture of school ownership.
The fight between African-American and Caucasian students is treated by
some as upsetting, but inevitable. The allegation that the use of racial
slurs precipitated the fight is disturbing, but again seen as somewhat inevitable.
The involvement of the police department in the application of "separate
and unequal" consequences for the students is seen as irresponsible,
but as one more factor that is beyond our control.
This week, I was told, on more than one occasion, that "these things"
happen in high school. I don't question this statement of fact, I just want
to move beyond acceptance to a new reality.
Zero indifference
It's not enough to remove the "offenders" and maintain a "zero
tolerance for violence" stance. I believe it's incumbent upon us to
pursue a "zero indifference" policy as well. ( A few weeks ago,
I received a bulletin from Wellesley that introduced the "zero indifference"
approach toward attitudes and actions which reflected bias.)
If we persist in reacting and responding, as opposed to becoming proactive,
we will have reneged on our responsibility as role models and leaders of
our students. How can we expect students to respect our lessons on the page,
if we fall short in the lessons of our lives?
We talk about students being disconnected and disinterested in our curriculum,
in structured school activities, in their own futures. We wonder why so
many of our students are apathetic. We pose a multitude of reasons to explain
away our lack of community, their lack of ownership.
Could the kids be following our lead? Who gave up first? Are we teaching
them to give up by our narrow example of what we're willing to accept as
the status quo?
Some people think the kids feel disconnected because they live far away.
There's no question that it's easier to be involved when the school's in
your neighborhood, but lots of kids travel long distances to schools that
are very much their own.
My daughter was a subway and a bus ride away from her middle school, but
the whole population commuted. They chose to be there. I attended my assigned
high school, but after riding three buses to get there, it was very much
my school.
However, in both of our school experiences, there were other students who
didn't feel that sense of ownership, and they were often students of color.
Geographic distance is clearly not the key.
Parents to blame? Or is it our bias?
Other people raise the question of parental involvement. They say the parents
are uninvolved and they equate that with the kids' sense of detachment.
These assumptions are made safely on the surface and never get around to
really examining why the detachment exists.
We'll provide transportation. We'll offer door prizes and dinner. I've even
read about schools where stipends are offered to parents who get involved.
We'll stop at nothing, short of scrutiny of the bias and disrespect that
parents encounter in our hallowed halls.
Really asking why parents aren't involved, might lead to other questions
about how they're treated when they do come forward. Questions like these
require us to examine our practice, and we're generally not interested in
going there. We'd rather spend years wringing our hands asking what's wrong
with "these kids" and "these parents."
Last month, I began proposing activities to get families and middle school
students into the high school. I've been recruiting teachers to work on
two separate committees. I'm hoping to involve some parents and students
too.
One group is going to organize a "Super Saturday" in May, for
seventh graders and all other interested members of the community. The second
group is developing a plan for a radically different kind of ninth grade
orientation. I'm hoping that a more welcoming approach with a student centered
focus will encourage new students and their parents to buy in instead of
tuning out.
We need fundamental discussions first
While I am still anxious to develop these two initiatives, I am now painfully
aware that they will be hollow public relations' gimmicks, if we don't first
get down to some fundamental discussions of culture. The notion of school
culture, teacher culture, the culture of power...all of these need to be
examined and acknowledged.
I feel like I'm in a time warp. A lot of the teachers I come in contact
with seem to have missed the sixties. These aren't young people, they're
my age or older, but they seem to have eluded any change in their understanding
about the way power operates in our society.
I think a key piece of their misunderstanding lies in their own sense of
powerlessness. Since they feel like pawns caught between the bureaucracy
and the students, it's difficult for them to acknowledge any involvement
or investment in the dominant power structure or culture.
Teachers wax nostaligic for the good old days when kids came to school to
learn. They talk about "these" kids as the root cause of the problems
in our schools.
I spent most of the day on Friday pulling out quotes and materials that
I hope to use at an in-service day on Tuesday. I'm not interested in a blaming
game, but I am interested in expanding our view of the problem. If we can
come to some consensus on the real issues, perhaps we can begin to address
a mutual approach to some solutions.
I'm using a quote by Dr. King on my packet's cover: "Where do we go
from here--chaos or community?" I don't think staying in the same place
is an option, I'm not sure it ever was.
[Editor's note: Deb is co-moderator of the
new MiddleWeb listserve.]
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