For weeks, I had wrestled with what I would say to our students about the Martin Luther King, Jr. holiday that was rapidly approaching. I wanted to move beyond the typical platitudes or “feel good” statements and give them something that would stay with them for more than one day off from school. Like most schools, we had shown the “I Have a Dream” speech in the past, and while this is certainly laudable, I wished to do something different this year. I desired to make Dr. King’s legacy of standing against injustice of all types real and relevant to them, but I was getting nowhere.
Part of my frustration stemmed from the fact that it’s been almost forty-five years since Dr. King was assassinated. While I can remember his funeral clearly, King is a historical character to today’s youth, in the same way that Woodrow Wilson was to me. More time has passed between the lives of our students and the life of Dr. King than between my youth and Marcus Garvey’s day. In addition, while prejudice is unfortunately all too alive and well, it’s of a different nature than in the 1950’s and 1960’s. What was unthinkable a half century ago - an African-American President, a former African-American female Secretary of State, and a female Hispanic governor in my home state - are all indicators of progress today. Nevertheless, the signs of institutional racism and income disparity are still in evidence as they were in 1968 when Dr. King planned a Poor People’s March in Washington, D.C.
My concern in preparing to speak with students about Dr. King is that if we deify leaders, we prevent young people from seeing the role that they too can play in making change. The real legacy of Dr. King is not to worship his memory (however, we should commemorate his life) but to devote ourselves to those ideals which he believed in and fight for them with the same determination as he did.
In addition, Bosque School has many students who are currently engaged in efforts to improve our world for others. This year, we have changed the name of our community service program to service learning, and this reflects more than merely a semantic difference. Our new approach entails a thorough analysis of the issues underlying the students’ service and includes a reflective component to help students see how their work not only benefits others but also can lead to systemic change. We want students to be agents of change and to feel empowered to lead others, as well as participate in movements that will lead to progress. This is more than merely noblesse oblige; it is helping students become the kind of people who try to improve American society for everyone.
So, how could I show that Dr. King’s message held just as much meaning in 2012, as it did in 1962, to those who are already “fighting the good fight?” Lecturing would not work and merely exhorting them to be good might just sound like yet another adult droning on. I could share some of my stories from growing up in Kentucky during the civil rights struggle: the fact that my father helped establish the only African-American owned and operated bank in the state at that time, the riots that accompanied the forced desegregation of our school, and the death threats we received in the mail or on the phone during that frightening time. This may interest them, but it probably would not energize them to act on their own.
Just a few days before I was scheduled to speak, I came across a TEDxTeen speech by Natalie Warne (http://www.ted.com/talks/natalie_warne_being_young_and_making_an_impact.html). In this speech, the twenty-year-old Ms. Warne shares her path to becoming an activist. She describes her life in high school, her learning about child soldiers in Africa, and her realization that she had to do something. It’s an energizing and inspiring address that I thought would interest our students. Showing them this speech after giving them some history might teach them about the problems that compelled Dr. King to speak out but also give them a model for action in today’s world.
The most compelling theme in Ms. Warne’s speech was her phrase “anonymous extraordinaries.” Ms. Warne explains that it’s not just the leaders like Martin Luther King, Jr. who make movements happen; it’s the thousands of people who work tirelessly with neither fame nor recognition but do so because they believe in a cause. As Ms. Warne makes clear, all of us can be extraordinary even if we’re anonymous. She also explains that this is difficult and at times frustrating, but if teens find their passion and pursue it with determination, they will be exceptional.
I am happy to report that the students enjoyed Ms. Warne’s address and found it inspirational. Many adults told me that they cried during her talk, and many students said that they thought the speech was great. The long-term impact on them is still to be seen, but at least for this year, they took something meaningful with them.
As we all know however, teaching students to participate in the arduous and tiring work of social change is more than a one-time experience; it must be taught and modeled constantly and continuously. Henry David Thoreau said in Civil Disobedience, “Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.” If we can show students that instead of leading lives of quiet desperation, they can strive to be “anonymous extraordinaries”, we will have given them something irreplaceable and provided a fitting tribute to one of our country’s greatest leaders, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Courageous Conversations
During a recent faculty professional development day, teachers and administrators discussed a protocol designed to facilitate difficult conversations around topics of diversity, including race, class, ethnicity, and orientation. We learned how to assess where we stand on these issues and how that might affect the manner in which we approach the conversation. We agreed that learning how to have these conversations can be helpful in a myriad of ways and will allow us to model for our students how to engage in dialogue that may be sensitive.
As educators, it can be intimidating knowing the “right” way to respond when a student says something that is offensive to someone. We wish our classrooms to be places of open dialogue, and we want our students to be able to explore ideas without fear of ridicule or shame. We want all of our students to feel comfortable, to be themselves, and to be at home in our hallways and other areas of school beyond the classroom.
Don’t get me wrong. This is not about how to respond when a student uses profanity or says something that is patently racist, bigoted, sexist, or homophobic. Those are relatively straightforward to address; we correct students and tell them that certain words and types of language are not permissible. We may need to explain why those words and comments are wrong. This may lead to a dialogue on the derivation of those terms or the history of the stereotype behind the comment; nevertheless, we have a responsibility to teach students that words used in certain ways can be just as cutting as a knife, and they are not allowed.
It’s the comment made by a student in a class or hallway that may reflect a lack of knowledge or context that is more difficult. When a student asks why there are stereotypes about Jews and money or why a certain percentage of African-American men are incarcerated, if they query why so many immigrants are of Asian or Hispanic heritage, or why there may be a high rate of alcoholism on Native-American pueblos, our response may be to either ignore the comment or to reprimand the student.
While that kind of response may be expedient, we have lost the opportunity to teach that student and his/her classmates, and one could say that we have abrogated our responsibility as educators. Knowing how to deal with this type of comment is difficult; however, not dealing with it is not an option. Very often, we do nothing because we don’t want to escalate the situation, risk making a student feel uncomfortable, or we may be afraid of where the conversation may go. Sometimes, we do not respond because we’re unsure where we stand ourselves, and we feel like we are on shaky ground.
This is where actually learning how to engage in these conversations can be so beneficial. In the same way that we are constantly improving our pedagogy so we can reach all students intellectually, we need to strengthen our teaching tool kit so we are capable of speaking with students about diversity and inclusivity. Of course, it’s not easy but as a friend of mine always says, “If it were easy, it wouldn’t be worth doing.”
Some may look at teaching students to engage in difficult conversations as a frightening and burdensome responsibility; isn’t it enough that I have to teach my students math or science? I prefer to view it as an exciting opportunity.
I recently attended a wedding of a Sikh bride and an African-American groom. The all-day wedding and all-night reception was a celebration of diversity and inclusivity. People who might never come into contact with one another spoke, hugged, and cried tears of joy with each other. Guests of all ages and ethnicities danced into the morning to a mash-up of rap, R&B, and Bollywood, and for a moment as I stood on the side of the dance floor, I had a view of where our kids may be headed; I was inspired!
We have the chance to prepare our students for this kind of world. What could be more exciting, meaningful, and rewarding?
As educators, it can be intimidating knowing the “right” way to respond when a student says something that is offensive to someone. We wish our classrooms to be places of open dialogue, and we want our students to be able to explore ideas without fear of ridicule or shame. We want all of our students to feel comfortable, to be themselves, and to be at home in our hallways and other areas of school beyond the classroom.
Don’t get me wrong. This is not about how to respond when a student uses profanity or says something that is patently racist, bigoted, sexist, or homophobic. Those are relatively straightforward to address; we correct students and tell them that certain words and types of language are not permissible. We may need to explain why those words and comments are wrong. This may lead to a dialogue on the derivation of those terms or the history of the stereotype behind the comment; nevertheless, we have a responsibility to teach students that words used in certain ways can be just as cutting as a knife, and they are not allowed.
It’s the comment made by a student in a class or hallway that may reflect a lack of knowledge or context that is more difficult. When a student asks why there are stereotypes about Jews and money or why a certain percentage of African-American men are incarcerated, if they query why so many immigrants are of Asian or Hispanic heritage, or why there may be a high rate of alcoholism on Native-American pueblos, our response may be to either ignore the comment or to reprimand the student.
While that kind of response may be expedient, we have lost the opportunity to teach that student and his/her classmates, and one could say that we have abrogated our responsibility as educators. Knowing how to deal with this type of comment is difficult; however, not dealing with it is not an option. Very often, we do nothing because we don’t want to escalate the situation, risk making a student feel uncomfortable, or we may be afraid of where the conversation may go. Sometimes, we do not respond because we’re unsure where we stand ourselves, and we feel like we are on shaky ground.
This is where actually learning how to engage in these conversations can be so beneficial. In the same way that we are constantly improving our pedagogy so we can reach all students intellectually, we need to strengthen our teaching tool kit so we are capable of speaking with students about diversity and inclusivity. Of course, it’s not easy but as a friend of mine always says, “If it were easy, it wouldn’t be worth doing.”
Some may look at teaching students to engage in difficult conversations as a frightening and burdensome responsibility; isn’t it enough that I have to teach my students math or science? I prefer to view it as an exciting opportunity.
I recently attended a wedding of a Sikh bride and an African-American groom. The all-day wedding and all-night reception was a celebration of diversity and inclusivity. People who might never come into contact with one another spoke, hugged, and cried tears of joy with each other. Guests of all ages and ethnicities danced into the morning to a mash-up of rap, R&B, and Bollywood, and for a moment as I stood on the side of the dance floor, I had a view of where our kids may be headed; I was inspired!
We have the chance to prepare our students for this kind of world. What could be more exciting, meaningful, and rewarding?
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