#teacherofcolor

This year, I teach ninth grade students. They're well-behaved and eager to please, a shift from the jaded and battle-worn students from last year. Truth be told, I like them because when we have discussions, they hear out other points of view and modify their own. Being stubborn and uncompromising isn't something that they particularly value. I think I've taken a page from their book and am trying to keep an open mind and not unfairly shut down anyone. Needless to say, it's been both liberating and eye opening. 

In light of this, some thoughts.

In the wake of Ferguson and too many similar incidents, I think that there are very few revelations that can shake me to my core. Or cause shivers to run down my back. Everything that needs to be said has been said more times than can count, yet people refuse to listen. 

One of my students David* was recently suspended from school for one day. He threw a condiment packet in the cafeteria which hit another student, earning him in-school-suspension for the rest of day. He allegedly mouthed off to an administrator, landing him out-of-school suspension for the next day. He came to school and violated the terms of OSS, increasing his punishment to another day of OSS. All for what? Kids being kids? French fries and plastic forks litter the ground; I'm sure not all of those were gently placed there. 

Normally, I would side with my fellow beleaguered teachers and administrators. Normally, I would see consequences as something necessary. Normally, I would leave work at work, not running tirelessly and relentlessly through my mind at breakneck speeds.

David is black. He is male. He has been in the foster care system for a good portion of his life. Again, a narrative too often colored by racist ideology and never examined critically or meaningfully enough.

Like my students, I was re-examining my realities, and it struck me, mid-thought, that punishments were meted out unfairly. Obviously, this is something I was always keenly aware of: policing and criminalization of black bodies doesn't start in middle-age. But suddenly, I realized that it was happening on my turf and on my watch.

It bought me back to an incident from last year when a troubled white, male student from a middle class background complained about me and my co-teacher to an administrator. For the record, my co-teacher and I are both women and I am a person of color. He told them that we had refused to administer a quiz to him, creating a textbook story of white male victimhood. My co-teacher and I became vicious, bitter shrews who were determined to keep a good (white) man down. Ain't that always the story? 

Here's my version. He asked to use his phone on a quiz. As per school rules, phones are not allowed without the permission of the teacher. Other students did not get to use their phones; no one else complained. I didn't want to give him an unfair advantage, but I forgot that whiteness demands advantage.

Immediately after school, a white male administrator forced me to give up my time to give this student his quiz. I had to offer him use of his phone. I felt humiliated. I felt cheated. Feelings of anguish bubbled up to the surface. I wept for myself. 

There is a problem when administrators do not believe teachers. It becomes more complex when the politics of gender and race are examined. This student who routinely skipped my class and refused to abide by school rules was an exception. I know people will try to explain away this situation and discredit me. That is nothing new. Scrutiny is always placed on the victim, who more times than not tend to be female, a person of color, and/or lower-class. Imagine that. 

Earlier last week, one of my coworkers, a young popular white female teacher let me know that the student had emailed her about his progress in college. 

What happened next stunned me. She and another teacher praised this student's ability to get beyond his "troubled situation" and apply himself. They focused on his ability to tap into his "natural talent" He was a "good kid" at heart. 

They knew what he had done to me. In this day and age, a student's word can destroy a teacher's career. And yet, they praised him. He violated more rules than I can count and never received punishment. There was never one after-school detention, let alone suspension. 

And here is David. Someone who has to accept the trials and tribulations of "troubled situation" without any advocacy or excuses. Hot tears seared through my eyelids on my drive home as they are now. 

During his meeting, he sat in the room unable to look at his foster parents or teachers. He sat there in shame and embarrassment. I wanted to shout across the table that he shouldn't have to feel shame. It's the system that's shameful. It is the system that has failed him and not the other way around. 

The next day, I gathered my courage and pulled him in a private conversation in the hall. I told him that the system is rigged. Some people will succeed and others will be scapegoated. I told him that I was on his side and what happened to him was unfair. 

I don't know if my words meant anything, but I do know that I'm just getting started. I will no longer just sit idly by and watch students persecuted unfairly and over-zealously.