Today was the all district professional development for the school district where I work. The schedule said we would all meet in the auditorium for the morning to hear the keynote speaker. Can you hear everyone's eyes rolling? Whispers of "bring something to work on?"
This was not that kind of keynote speaker.
Dr. Campbell was there to discuss something that we wanted to know. How do we change the way we teach and lead to increase belonging (and test scores and graduation rates, etc) among our incredibly diverse school district (with a not so diverse faculty)? The answer, of course, is a lot of hard work and soul searching. Specific strategies include giving scholars a voice, using many different cultural references in the examples, questions, videos and books use in class, eliminating micro aggressions and normalizing conversations about race.
In Isabel Wilkerson's book, Caste: The Origins of Our Discontent, she compares the systems (including schools) in America to an old house. There are always things that need to be fixed. These needed repairs do not make the house useless, but they have to be done. The longer the owners look away and pretend they aren't there, the more difficult they will be to fix later. You didn't build the house, but you are living in it now. What are you going to do about it?
For the last 50 years white people have been so busy saying that we weren't the ones who kept slaves, we weren't the ones who enacted Jim Crow laws, we've never burned a cross on anyone's lawn, why is it our problem? It is time for us to acknowledge that we live in a house that needs some remodeling. We weren't the ones who built it, but if we want to live in a nice house we have to accept the responsibility of making the repairs.
Toward the end of the presentation Dr. Campbell asked us to consider the way we were raised and what blind spots we may have as a result.
As I listened to other participants share their blind spots I received inspiration for me. As a white girl raised in a white conservative Christian bubble I was told over and over again that I was supposed to be an example for everyone else. I was told that everyone was watching me to see what I would do. Would I live the way I professed to believe? There is doctrinal president for this. Jesus said that his disciples should be a light on a hill for all the world to see. He said that we should be the salt of the earth. Paul admonished Timothy to "Be an example of the believers, in word and deed and conversation." I was told endless stories of people who judged the church, for good or bad, based on one action of one person. I internalized that to mean that the salvations of everyone I ever interacted with were somehow hanging on my perfect example. It created anxiety and a twisted kind of belief that I should be able to be perfect. That's a lot of stress for a kid, or anyone else, to carry around. It leads to perfectionism which ultimately leads to self-condemnation because it is impossible to live up to such a standard. There is doctrine here too. Each person has their own agency. Ultimately, everyone is responsible for their own decision whether to accept Jesus Christ or not. We may help or hinder but we don't save or condemn anyone.
How many of us educators went into our profession with the desire to save someone? We tell stories of the teachers who inspired us when we were discouraged; the teachers who gave us a safe place when our homes didn't feel safe; the teachers who opened our eyes to our own potentials and introduced us to our passions. We want to help. We want to serve. We want to give back what was given to us. And we want to be remembered. We also kind of want to be heroes. This is a very general blanket statement and certainly doesn't apply to all education workers, but it's not uncommon either. It's a special sort of pride that implies that I am somehow better; that if you will just let me show you a better way then you can be good like me. From a Christian perspective this ends up looking a lot like self worship. I can't save anyone, only Jesus can do that. In fact, he already has. He has already suffered the pains, sicknesses, unfairness, sin, everything for everyone of those kids. They do not need fixing. They are not broken. They need to be heard, loved, taught, and respected just the way they are, because they are children of God, the same as us. Those are things that we, as educators (and parents), can and must do.
