This is a very personal post and one I am wanting to share as I believe that through conversations and sharing of my own experiences and uncertainties that I will be able to find clarity and direction.
I am writing this for those out there who find themselves in the same situation as myself, wanting to talk about race and the hate messages with our students. We recognize the importance of why we need to acknowledge what is happening across our nation, stand up against its normalcy and understand that our silence feeds it. However, we have no idea where to begin, how to do it and what to say. I fear this is true because I am white. I question how my students, a very diverse population, would receive it. Perhaps this is because I don’t talk about race enough to feel comfortable to lead a discussion, which is a whole other issue. I fear I don’t know enough. I fear I will offend my students. Then there is the idea of teaching something to a group of students who are more the experts than I am. You see, I have never in my life experienced racism. Yes, I have been places where I was the minority and received different treatment, but let’s be real, that isn’t racism. I have not historically been oppressed. I do not turn on the news to see large crowds with torches protesting their supremacy against me. Nor have I feared the unconscious, and sometimes conscious, biases of police officers while being pulled over or questioned. I have never been followed around a store because I was targeted as someone likely to steal. The reality is, when I was the minority I still received special treatment because I was white. And I was still able to return to my white world of privilege. So, as I sit and ponder how to begin the conversation, the only place I can think about beginning is with a self-reflection. To be able to have a conversation about race in my classroom, I also need to understand my role in the impact of racism in the world. Yes, I have a role. My role as a participant in white privilege and living in a very white world blind to the reality that surrounds me. To begin, I share a few stories.
I grew up in a very white middle to upper middle class world. In fact, I can even remember the first time I met a black man. I was about five years old, he was my great uncle and I asked my father if he was wearing very long sleeves. You see, I couldn’t figure out why his arms were so black.
As a little girl, I loved American Girl dolls. I owned everything Samantha could need and more. However, Samantha wasn’t the doll I actually wanted. I wanted Addy, a black doll. Now, years later, I can’t tell you why I wanted Addy but I do strongly remember this. A family member telling me I couldn’t have Addy, not really explaining why, but that I was told to pick another doll.
I grew up in white neighborhoods. I had only one black friend growing up when I was in middle school and I don’t remember seeing a lot of black people at my schools. In fact, at my high school we could count all of the black students, all five of them.
I remember returning from trips abroad and enjoying chats with my extended family. One day one member said something that struck me. My image of this person was one of love, kindness and affection. I didn’t know him to hate. However, when he asked me about my travels and if I had met anyone, he told me to make sure I am with “someone like us”.
These experiences are amongst the many that impacted my world view. The reality is up until about 10 years ago when I began working at Lincoln High School, I never thought about race or racism. If I did, I visualized slavery, the Ku Klux Klan, segregated bathrooms and marches. That is, the old black and white pictures from textbooks. I thought about Martin Luther King and Rosa Parks. All of my understanding was from our history, it never once was from our present day. I never thought it was odd to grow up surrounded by people that look like me or that television, movies and advertisements where also filled with people just like me. I didn’t question why I couldn’t have a black doll or why I had to marry someone like me. You see, I was blind. Blind to the reality of racism in my life and the role I played as the blind participant. At one point, I might even have believed that I didn’t see race. I didn’t understand that the very fact that racism didn’t impact my life only perpetuated it and how my role as a white person had a very integral role in why racism still exists. Am I a racist? No. That is not what I am saying. Were those in my life also racist? I would believe not. But, because of the status we live as white people, we lived above it and far, far away from it. We lived in a place where racism was allowed to be ignored. View the above chart and ask yourself, how many of these things have you ignored and never considered as playing a role in racism? Still not sure what white privilege is? Check out this article here.
How does this affect my role as a teacher? In so many ways. I think about the blog and podcast “Interchangeable White Lady” and how my very diverse student population is blinded by a sun of white female teachers, class after class after class. And let’s be real, more than 80% of teachers are white, so if we all are way too uncomfortable to talk about racism with our students, who will? I think about how I am welcomed and wanted in this nation by the majority of its inhabitants. I think about how I see images of other white ladies, and males, who are in places of prestige and honor and can see myself there. When I was taught about our national heritage, I was shown that people of my color made it what it is (1). I think about how I can easily buy foundation, Band-Aids and nylons for my skin color. Really, the list could go on and Peggy McIntosh has quite an exhaustive list here and I encourage you to read them for your own self-reflection. The main point is, many of my students have very different experiences and I am part of the racism in this world by having ignored it. By having not seen it as a White issue. If I go into this next school year continuing to ignore it and think that loving on my students and making sure I treat each one equally is enough, then I am still living above racism and not in front of it trying to confront it. What will I do in my classroom? What will I say? What lesson will I teach? That is my next step and I have a few weeks to figure that out. In the meantime, I am going to continue to read, process and self-reflect about my role in racism. I have also posted some links to classroom ideas below about how to discuss racism with students. Even though I am not quite sure what I am going to do, I know one thing is for sure, I will do something. My students mean more to me than my own insecurities and fears regarding talking about race. They deserve better.
Resources for discussing racism in the classroom:
1.Excerpted from White Anti-Racist Activism: A Personal Roadmap by Jennifer R. Holladay, M.S. (Crandall, Dostie & Douglass Books, Inc., 2000)