Today was the kickoff for the start of the school year for the teachers in the district I work in. It was an exciting morning with lots of acknowledgements of teachers as superheroes. Because they are! I don’t know of too many humans who can spend all day with someone else’s children and not be 🦇 💩 crazy by the end of the day! I mean I know I couldn’t sit in a room with 18-22 kids day in and day out and maintain my sanity! 

I am the youngest of six kids and my next closest sibling is my brother, Claude. As you can imagine, we lived in very close contact with six kids and my parents, so we were all close whether we liked it or not! Claude and I spent almost all of our time together when we were very young and I can remember traipsing up the street with him to ask our neighbors if they could come out and play. I remember my brother as the smartest, kindest kid I knew growing up. I wanted to be where he was and I wanted to do what he was doing. So much so that I named my oldest son after him because I hoped he would be as smart, as kind and as adventurous as his uncle. 

From Kindergarten through 12th grade I attended Catholic schools. My brother was so smart, even with the academic rigor of a Catholic education, that he was skipped a grade ahead. As opposed to being two grades ahead of me, he was three. So, imagine my surprise when my brother began to routinely get in trouble. I could not figure out what he could have possibly be doing to become the scourge of his class. 

Now, my educator friends will go, “he likely didn’t have the social skills needed for the next grade and that’s why he got into trouble. He just wasn’t mature enough.” If all things were equal, I would agree with you, but it not only happened to my brother, but it happened to at least one Black male per class, even if they’re White counterparts were behaving the same way or worse.

As a child, I remembered each one of those boys by name in each class because it was weird to me. I knew these kids from church, the neighborhood and extra curricular activities and they didn’t seem bad at all. They played football in the street. We had pick up basketball games. They went to the swimming pool at the park. We rode our bikes, made mud pies and walked to the store for ice pops. They played football with my brother and we all ran track. Their troubles in school baffled me. Being the youngest of six, however, I am an observer and commenter on life. I save stuff for later when my brain has had time to work things out. 

My first job in my current district was at a local Catholic school and who should I come upon? Mrs. M, one of my third grade teachers. She wanted to refer two kids to me, both of whom seemed to have significant behavior problems, one Black male student and  one White male student. The principal only allowed her to refer the Black child to me. At one point, the young Black child did something that the principal wanted to expel him for. However, the White male child’s behavior was ten times worse. My old teacher was struggling with why this was happening. Me, being young and less tactful, was like, “really, really you don’t know?” I then recounted the list of names of the Black boys who always got into trouble when I was little. When you are small, you don’t have words for what you are seeing, but as an adult I clearly said, it’s racism. The young Black student was expelled, the young White student stayed put. My teacher was beside herself and refused her contract for the next school year.

When I was unhappy with the education my son was receiving at a public school, I considered putting him into a catholic school. When I entered to ask about registration, the White female principal said to me, “Is he a behavior problem? “ I said, “No! And, you will never see my child!” I turned heel and left. I was not going to give them the opportunity to mistreat my child. 

Three of the young men’s names that I kept on my list from my childhood are dead. What is the likelihood of that happening out of such a small number of students?

I met a White woman almost two years ago who is married to a Black man. She about knocked my socks off when she said, “when I decided to date a Black man, I took every class I could find on African-American history and culture and read every book I could find.” Me: “why?” Her: “Because I wanted to learn everything I could because I didn’t want to go in trying to change him to be more like me,White. I wanted him to be him without feeling like he needed to code switch.” (I am sure I am paraphrasing.) The point is she decided to learn more to do better. 

As I looked upon the sea of teachers this morning, I noticed a predominantly White crowd. There is absolutely nothing wrong with that. Our district is 70% African-American. In a state where a Black male child is THREE TIMES (for a Black girl that number swells to FIVE times more likely) more likely than their White counterparts to be expelled for similar behavior or vague behavior, it is my hope that all teachers will attempt to learn about the cultural norms of the kids they are teaching and incorporate that into their daily existence, even when it is uncomfortable. It is my hope that kids will not continue to be suspended or expelled for vague behaviors or because they cannot adequately code switch. 

Since writing this post in August of 2019, COVID has hit. Classes are being held on line. Recently, a Black young man was suspended for five days from school for having a toy gun during his google class. The teacher recorded his actions, the school called the police and the young man now has a record. They did not call the boy’s parents first even though the “gun” was green and had “zombie killer” written in it. That could have ended very differently. He could have been another Tamir Rice. 

Have a good school year! 

I read an excellent article today by Zakiya Sankara-Jabar called “I Can’t Make a Teacher Love My Son.” Please check it out.

https://www.washingtonpost.com/nation/2020/09/08/black-student-suspended-police-toy-gun