Susan Fedor/00-01/Diary Entry15

Entry # 15:
The Specter of Racial Prejudice

When a parent raises the specter of prejudice, any words in response are weak as water. What can one say? There is no language that will alter the perception. Having tried, I know that any defense seems somehow to bolster the accusations rather than diminish them.

"Methinks she does protest too much" is a quote that comes to mind. As a consequence, I make up my resolve to keep my mind open, and to listen without mentally arguing with each charge. Instead I write, scripting each encounter so that I can consider the remarks that had been made, judge their merit, and ponder what to do.

The issue of discrimination has been a minor one until only recently. During the past three weeks, in parent conferences, in a letter, in several telephone calls, and in a pre-expulsion hearing, the accusation was made: You are unfair to your black students.

The details of the charge differed but the message was the same. Many comments were even worded exactly alike. There was no doubt that the community was talking, and the talk was not good. My sense was that one parent made a public comment about his child not receiving a fair shake at our school and upon hearing it, the listening parent responded, "You know, I feel the same way." That is the way snowballs begin.

A common conversation about race

To review recent events, I had, in a three-week period, heard claims from six parents whose feelings ranged from anger and scorn to a lean-forward-in-the-chair posture signifying cooperation and a how-can-this-be-changed approach. In the prior two years, I heard this claim advanced fewer times than I heard during the past three weeks.

Deep in thought, I ruminated at the wheel as I drove for a weekend visit to see my sister. She had a Saturday morning meeting and I attended as an observer. The meeting was with members of the organization, Concerned Black Men of Oglethorpe County. In civil dialogue with district personnel (including the superintendent) they raised concerns about social promotion, the few number of black teachers especially black male teachers, and the virtual absence of minority administrators. One member said that the need for administrators stemmed from the belief that "If you are not a minority, you cannot know how a minority feels."

I had the sense that if I closed my eyes, I could be in nearly any school in the country and the conversation would be the same.

This was a group I would have loved to have residing in my school zone. These men had created a homework center, served as mentors, on advisory boards, and chaired PTO committees. In return, the school district provided tech support for the homework center and donated some new printers. The alliance was win-win with a positive commitment to work on the concerns that had been raised. This is the way it ought to work everywhere.

My situation is different

But my situation was not exactly like my sister's district so I could not merely take her successes and duplicate them. I continued to wrestle with the charges of racism .The comments burned and stayed. These were the words that resounded:

Your school has a reputation of not being racially tolerant

We know that you overlook the achievements of your black students.

You behave as though tests are more important than children are.

Discipline slips cite "being loud" when kids really are not doing anything wrong.

The way a teacher talks to my child is the reason he feels disrespected.

In my old district, my child never had any trouble. It has only been since he came here.

Black kids report something to a teacher and nothing happens; white kids get immediate action.

Teachers do not care because when they give out a detention hall slip, they smile.

My kid has been in trouble, so he's under a microscope now. Teachers nitpick just because he has been in trouble before. They look for him to misbehave.

A white student does the same thing my (black) child does, and only my child gets in trouble.

Any one of these comments is a killer phrase for a caring teacher. Taken together, they were disheartening and discouraging.

I truly believe that we are not the school that these comments held us out to be. But the intuition of a white middle-aged administrator is an insufficient rationale to disregard these alarming charges that had been brought against us.

What the numbers show

I ran the numbers. Twenty nine percent (29%) of our total school population is minority. Of the total number of students involved in disciplinary incidents, black females make up 15% of the total number of students, and black males, 24%. So, 39% of all students involved in disciplinary incidents were minority compared to their 29% representation in the overall school population. Although there was a 10% disproportion, the numbers did not suggest an egregious bias in our enforcement of disciplinary policy.

Of the 422 students on the school honor roll, 12% were black. On the failure list, about 24% were black. Do we believe that all school groups should reflect the total ethnic make up of the student body? Is this our goal or is it something even higher? The first job is to identify the problem.

I sought out a black member of the faculty, a truly gifted teacher who is my touchstone in many things but especially in the prickly matters of race which crop up from time to time. Her advice is unfailingly correct, and I can rely on her for frank talk about sensitive issues.

She is such help because I am not the only on who calls on her: the students, their parents, and other black staff members seek her out, too. She gives me the truest measure of our climate because she takes in the most information. She confirms that there is talk and tells me what black students tell her.

A faculty discussion about race

Last Friday was a staff development day, and I called the faculty together to share my experiences of the past three weeks regarding racial issues.

"Have you ever been in a situation where you were a minority?" I asked them. I related the story of a luncheon I went to with a thousand Gamecock football supporters, most of whom where men. I went to hear Coach Lou Holtz speak. I prefer gardening to football, and I found myself keeping to myself with little to say to anyone. I was vaguely uncomfortable and very self-conscious, thinking that I might be asked a quarterback question at any time and be found out a fraud.

I wondered later if my reactions and those of the children in the minority in our school might be similar. I asked the teachers to think of a situation where they were outnumbered and to recall how they felt. Think-pair-share.

As I talk to the faculty, I review the scalding comments I have taken in my scripts of recent conversations. Backs brace and lips form tight, straight lines. I felt the same way upon first hearing these remarks. I urge these kind, caring, proud, dedicated teachers to merely listen to the comments, as I had to make myself do, suspending judging on their merit. They relaxed but just a bit. No one is very comfortable with this conversation.

I took up a theme discussed recently on the MiddleWeb listserv about how false the claim to colorblindness is. A pervasive understanding of differences is a clearer description of a school where there is equity for all.

I recalled for them the major characteristics of the Highway Patrol's approach to discipline. Now, I had been heard to rant on occasion and not follow this advice. So, I included myself in this reminder and told the teachers so as I began my presentation.

One reason Highway Patrolmen warrant respect is the way they mete out consequences: "Ma'am. You were exceeding the speed limit by 15 mph. May I see your license?"

In contrast is the stressed teacher whose traffic-stop conversation sounds like a tone of shrilling intensity and rising pitch and accelerating speed: "I've told you time and time again not to speed. For Pete's sake, the speed limit is posted everywhere. How could you not have noticed? And to think you would speed on my stretch of the highway! I take this very personally. You have really earned this ticket. See you in detention hall."

They laughed. But just a bit.

I finished my homily, really making an effort not to sound too righteous or preachy, with a reminder that our black children are those who are most at risk in a school environment. We know this is true. I was proposing no affirmative action or quotas to reach equity, but rather an extra amount of sensitivity and awareness for our minority students. They need to be wrapped in bubble wrap just as you would any fragile object to ensure it is not harmed.

This vulnerability warrants an extra run through the list with an extra screening to make certain all who are qualified are included in whatever grouping is being formed, prize is being awarded, praise or punishment is being given. This is the extra watch care we must give to make certain we are caring sufficiently for all our children.

Entry # 15: The Specter of Racial Prejudice

Entry # 15:
The Specter of Racial Prejudice