Entry # 19: We know
who "those" kids are
The high school is still in the news, but the reports are less sensationalized
now. Today's Philadephia Inquirer reported that the school "is
not beset by racial warfare or roaming gangs of hate groups" but that
"racially charged problems" clearly do exist.
Questions about equity have been brought into the open by the recent fights
at the school. Questions about whether discipline is handled equitably,
or whether students of color are more likely to be suspended than their
white counterparts (for similar offenses) are being asked publicly.
There is also recognition that placement policies need to be investigated.
Some people have wondered for years, behind closed doors, about the tracking
of some students into certain small learning communities, while special,
advanced programs give the appearance of being reserved for an elite group
of mostly white students.
These issues need to be addressed throughout our District, at all grade
levels. In fact, these issues need to be investigated all across the country.
White teachers are rarely color-blind
Do these problems begin in high school? Are justice and opportunity color
blind? I can't speak for all teachers or all schools, but I know my practice
and experience, and I think it's been relatively common. While many white
teachers claim to be color blind, our practice tells a different story.
Every time we expect less of a minority student, we say color does matter.
When we lose our temper toward Black boys, but laugh at the "boyish
pranks" of white boys, we say color does matter. It's impossible to
be neutral in our society. I can struggle consistently with my biases and
assumptions, but I cannot erase them and I don't think anyone else can either.
As a white teacher, I know who the other white teachers mean when they talk
about "those kids" as being difficult, unwilling, or unable to
learn, and while I cringe I often remain silent when these comments are
made.
These attitudes are nothing new. While people no longer feel free to openly
argue that certain groups are inherently less capable of learning or succeeding,
the bias is still there, and it affects our teaching and our kids' learning.
I understand this, so why don't I challenge these attitudes regularly?
"Which kids do you mean?"
I have told myself that I don't want to appear self righteous or holier
than thou, but I could challenge these statements without making speeches.
When I hear the label, "those kids," I could just ask which kids
they're talking about. I think this question would make people think about
what they're saying.
Would this behavior just silence people? Would it really change anything?
Would it make other white teachers less willing to share their ideas and
practice with me?
I am really struggling with these questions. I am painfully aware that my
practice of not challenging these remarks amounts to complicity, regardless
of my good intentions.
Maybe I need to ask teachers how they know these kids are different. What's
our evidence that a child can't or won't learn? Stating the question this
way feels better to me. It feels less like a rhetorical question meant to
shame a colleague into silence, and more like a genuine query that could
lead to some changes in our ideas and practice.
As a new teacher I was extremely frustrated when, despite my hard work,
my students continued to fail. I had to figure out why. I had to try and
figure out what was wrong. I knew it was either their fault or mine -- and
part of me really hoped it wasn't mine.
I began to read other teachers' stories and, slowly but surely, I began
to understand that while poverty was a big factor in my children's lives,
it wasn't the deciding factor in my classroom. I also began to recognize
that while our differences made it harder for us to connect, it was harder,
but not impossible.
A tone of decency
I started believing that as the teacher, I set the tone in my classes, and
that if my classes were going to be respectful, thoughtful, and equitable
places of learning, that it was up to me. Setting and maintaining a tone
of decency became my primary goal as a teacher, and I still believe it's
the key to student success, but I haven't been promoting it consistently
enough in my new role.
Last week I was involved in organizing sessions about diversity at the high
school, but the discussion cannot stop there. I'm setting up a committee
for cross articulation between the middle and high school, and a new kind
of ninth grade orientation as well, but here again the events and structures
without the ongoing conversation will not meet the challenge.
I cannot limit my involvement to this or that event, class or workshop.
Bias and discrimination work twenty four-seven and my/our efforts to combat
them must do the same.
We can use these fights and the focus they've afforded us as a catalyst
for the real changes that must be made at all levels of our schools or we
can breathe a sigh of relief and return to business as usual, until the
next time....
Every day, I have a choice to make, but our students are denied the right
to choose. Children of color cannot avoid the impact of our bias. They cannot
decide to let things slide, and I owe it to them to deepen my understanding
of racism in our schools, and the part I play in it. They deserve better.
[Editor's note: Deb is co-moderator of the
new MiddleWeb listserve.]
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