Well, I did it. I was scared, and I couldn't predict the outcome. But still, I did it. Last Friday in my American Novel class, we talked about racism. But we didn't just talk about racism in Tom Robinson's day because we had just finished reading To Kill a Mockingbird. Instead I took my class, part of a student body that is 98% white, out of their comfort zone. This conversation followed on the heels of my introduction to this article, explaining the strong need for anti-racist curriculum in our schools. I knew that if I wanted to be an ally, I needed to use my position as a teacher, especially in a context as rich as Mockingbird. To be honest, I've been scared. This is a hot-button issue for me, one that hits close to home. I didn't know how I would react when brought face-to-face with the biases I knew many of my students cling to. Because I wanted the conversation to be perfect, my answers to be articulate, my fear caused me to avoid the issue. I was weak. Sure, we had short conversations in passing and I passed along articles to students in emails and as comments in journals, but I had never centered an entire lesson about the ways that racism exists today. That changed last week, though, at the prompting of my principal. He observed me lead a class fish bowl discussion towards the end of our reading of Lee's classic novel, and in his observation notes, he wrote, "This novel gives great opportunities to connect with current thoughts/situations dealing with discrimination and prejudice. What have you done to discuss these connections?" The answer was nothing, and I felt deeply convicted. I tucked away my fear and dug right in the next class period. First, we read this article that introduced the students to the concept of racial bias and microaggressions. We needed to read the examples and learn the lexicon that could help us in our Socratic Seminar for the day. I gave students time to read and process. Next, I introduced the question: How is racism today different from racism during To Kill a Mockingbird? This group can sometimes be reticent during discussion, but on this day they opened up. From the inside of our little homogeneous bubble, many of them admitted to being surprised by the statistics about job searches and housing and poverty. "I had no idea that you would have a harder time just getting a job interview if you were black," one usually shy girl announced. Another boy astutely observed, "I think people like to read books like Mockingbird because then they can say, 'Well, at least racism isn't as bad as it was then.'" Their eyes were being opened. Finally, I zeroed in on our own microcosm. "How do you see this play out in our school?" I asked. I asked knowing that for the past several years working in a school with very few minority students, I have watched the "token" black or Hispanic student be made into a stereotype. I watched as the lone Asian student was expected to always do well in math and science and was teased mercilessly if he didn't know an answer. I stood witness as the lone Hispanic boy laughed unconvincingly as other students joked with him about stealing cars and crossing the border. I was a bystander as a biracial student begrudgingly accepted a nickname that focused on her hair, an aspect that made her "other." Last week I watched as another black student half-heartedly laughed along as a classmate proclaimed in the hall, "Oh, it's just because you're black." One young man in our discussion that day bravely pointed out that the students laugh to minimize differences, that in a school like ours, we try to make racial differences a big joke. I prodded them. "What do we do in moments like these? What if the minority student is laughing along? Is the joke acceptable then? Why are we comfortable being bystanders?" Students told of a jazz band competition where a clinician used the derogatory term "retard." These students were shocked, but of course the man was in position of authority over them, so they remained silent. I don't judge these students for their silence. I've obviously been silent, too. But the question remains: How can we ALL do better? This time we had the conversation. We scratched the painful surface and sat in our discomfort. It wasn't a perfect conversation, and I was frustrated at some of their answers and preconceived notions. And like many conversations like this, we presented more questions and provided few answers, but still we talked. Even now the topic settles here in my classroom, like a dust we can't escape, one we shouldn't escape. Studies show that children as young as four are noticing and sorting according to differences. Our seemingly innocuous "colorblind" approach is clearly not working, especially in places like my current school where we have few minority students. As a parent and an educator and a human, I implore my fellow parents, teachers, and humans: We must have these conversations. We must talk to our young people about race. Our country's problems will not go away with silence. Decades of proof stand in testimony to that. It might not be perfect, and it might even be scary. We might not get the results we want. But we need to open the dialogue. Let's start today.
6 Comments
Deb Day
2/11/2015 12:53:17 pm
Kim, this is awesome. I used to do more when I taught junior high, but I loved your connections to To Kill a Mockingbird. This give me ideas and a push in the right direction...
Reply
Allison Berryhill
2/13/2015 12:18:57 am
Kim, I would like this to reach a wider audience. What you say is powerful, articulate, and SO important. Do you know how to submit to the Register as an op-ed? Do it.
Reply
2/15/2015 03:04:13 am
I show the original "12 Angry Men" in my Chemistry course to discuss the power of one man, the importance of details and how pre-conceived prejudice affect our point of view. Invariably the discussion trends to racial prejudice and it is usually one of the most poignant discussions we have in my class. I truly believe students want and need these opportunities, but they are usually only cloaked in the guise of a pre-packaged holiday and cursory guided curriculums.
Reply
Leave a Reply. |
AboutTeach. Archives
September 2020
|