I left my class today, after dealing with this kid who demands way too much of my time (yes, he's still there), really burdened by the thought of "hopelessness". As class ended, my only black, male student walked in and sat in front of me. I have known for a while that he's dealing with some issues (cases, bad influences, etc) and my heart goes out to him every time. Today was different though; he sat down although he had missed the class. He wanted an ear and so I listened. He hasn't turned in any of his work although he's done the work. The thing is, this particular assignment that's due is a personal essay and he told me he hates to write about his life. He isn't proud of himself and he hates to have to look back. "We were evicted," he said today "and I have nowhere to go. But I'm trying." He's trying...he really is. He shows up and although I see he has a strong defense system going on, it's easy to see that he's hiding something. He's hurting. Today, it was clear; he spoke little but said much. I asked him to tell me what I could help with and his eyes welled up with tears:
"Miss, I don't know. They say they need some financial aid papers that I can't produce. They want it from my father but my father is in Trinidad. And it doesn't help that my mother is always asking me for money. And yesterday, I missed your class because my sister ain't have no babysitter so I stayed with her kid. I'm tryin', Miss, I really am but they don't make it easy either. I talked to the lady in financial aid and she gave me a silly face saying she can't help me. I want to do better but if my life depends on it, I'm going back to sellin' and I know you gonna tell me about the consequences and all dat but my life depends on it, Miss. I'm tryin' and I wanna stay out of jail. Right now I got a felony on my back that I'm fightin' but if I gotta do it, I'ma sell again. Either that, or I'ma go to the army and take my anger out on some people in that war. I gotta do somethin' but this school thing seems like it's so hard. I'm tryin to stay out of trouble and away from these kids who are a bad influence but it's not workin', Miss. Not when my family gettin' evicted and I can't buy my books for school and it ain't like my sisters went to college so they not helpin'."
My heart was completely shattered as I watched him fight the tears. This kid is really trying and there was very little I could say to him to give him encouragement. Nobody at the school really understands the plight of this kid. See, he was charged with assault (he beat some kid with a bat) and he was sent to jail for 2 years. The contrast to that is that another kid in the same class (white) and his friends gave a guy a heavy beat down and he got 29 days and probation. Justice seems to have a heavy hand when it comes to certain children, but I digress. This young man is trying and he wants to stay out of trouble. It's just sad that with all that he has poured out to me, I still can't figure out where to begin to help him. I can't pay his tuition, I can't talk to his counselors because they won't talk about specific students, and I can't keep his family from being evicted. But when I look at him, I see a brother, a nephew, a cousin, and I can't help but feel responsible to at least do something to help keep him out of the hands of the justice system. After all, he's only 18! Look at what life we can hand him if we give him a college education, as opposed to letting him go and allowing the system to take his life and liberty!
This is the burden we all should share. We should be considering ways to help young people, such as this kid to get on the straight and narrow. Now we know he made choices before and his choices were not the wisest but is there any among us who will take a stand to help put this kid and those like him back on the straight and narrow and take them off the streets? He only sees two options outside of college: Jail and Jail because to me, the army is just another institution that is set up to "protect" us by putting our youngest, most talented men and women under a sentence that they can't seem to get out of. These shouldn't be his only options but they are. And the burden is mine to figure out if there is just one or two things I can do to help ensure that he stays the course because he is, afterall, really really trying. These are the situations that make me angry and sad and frustrated with our "system" of education and government. There is no rehabilitation: If you were always a miscreant, then you rarely have a chance at changing your life and doing what's right. The streets are calling our kids. In fact, I fight against the streets everyday! I remember when I was about to become a teacher in New York City and I did a small scale study of the area in which I would teach. I interviewed a drug dealer on the corner, who happened to be a fellow high school classmate of mine. He looked me squarely in the face and said "Keep your foot up their asses because I got my hand in their pockets. Your greatest enemy everyday is ME and I ain't gonna quit so you better not either." And I have NEVER forgotten that lesson. It was the most honest lesson I learned as a teacher. No seminar or book by any prominent professor could have broken down education theory and philosophy to me so simply as Face, the drugdealer in Brooklyn. "Keep your foot in their asses...I'm your greatest enemy...I ain't gonna quit so you better not..." I'm still fighting and will continue to do so; I just wish I had more ammunition.
$.02.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
When White Attacks Black and White Is the Only Defense
This issue has been bugging me all day, along with several other issues but I figured if I write about it, I can channel the energy in the right direction. I'm tired of whiteness...Seriously...I've had enough of white power, white supremacy, white ignorance, white walls, white anything. I'm officially asking white people to give me a day off from the foolishness!
Lately, there has been much talk about race and racism in our 'u'ni'topian' society. From chimps and shots to a nation of cowards, we've somehow begun to see that our society is not all that brave when ti comes to tackling issues of race. I have a feeling that very soon, these discussions will inevitably become so prominent that we will have no choice BUT to address what has been swept under a rug for so long (if you're white, that is). I say if you're white because for black people, race stares us in the face every morning before we leave our homes. Each day, we are reminded of our position in society, whether we're at the top or at the very bottom. Everyday that I stand before a class filled with white students, I remember that I'm black. Every time someone puts my change on the counter, I am reminded that I'm black. In fact, last week a student thought it wasn't enough that I see my beautiful black skin in the mirror every morning before heading to work, so he felt the need to remind me that I'm black. He received a grade that he didn't like on a paper and he retorted with a racial remark. Now, the result of this episode is what led me to write this post after almost 6 months of silence.
Let's recap the episode. I walk into a college classroom, stand at the podium, give my morning greeting and then walk towards the computer to start projecting the day's lesson. I begin the workshop and students are engaged in a discussion about their work. It is then that I realize that I need to return papers to them so they can critique and mend more of their work (this is an English class). I begin to return work and when said student receives his paper, his immediate response is to be on the defensive. Why? He earned a 4% on a quiz. I return his other paper (which he failed to actually revise after I made several suggestions for revision. So I just graded it as a draft, since I have nothing to do with people's ability to follow directions) and then the volcano erupted:
"Why would you give me a D?"
I looked around to make sure I had heard what I thought I heard.
"And why would you write to me in gel pen?"
Again, I wondered who the hell he thought he was talking to. I paused before responding and so happy I am that I paused.
"I know what you gave me a D...It's because you're bbb bbbb bbbbbbbbb"
At this point, I was ready to hear it. I've been called that before, here we go again! I figured, hmm, it's early in the semester but here we go! B____, yes yes, get it out, B____! And then...
"It's because you're BLACK and you think that you're the greatest force on the face of the earth!"
Pause...WHAT? What did he say? Triple pause again "HUH?"
Now clearly, if you have the talent of deductive reasoning, you can figure out the problem here.
My response was simple "I was born black, have been black all my life, and will continue to be black for as long as I live so deal with it!"
He got even angrier and began to flip out in his own little head and his own little world. The other students were aghast. I was rather calm and even that is something to think about. Why was I so calm? It's because this isn't the worst thing I've been called and it's because moments like these are what Ralph Ellison and Toni Morrison and Marcus Garvey have been preparing me for all my life. I was ready for that. What I wasn't ready for was what followed.
"I'm getting out of here! I'm not staying here!" and he stormed out in ire.
Now some minor details took place in between and editorial power gives me the right to write around them but his behavior left me wondering what the hell I would possibly do if that seemingly unstable individual should ever storm back into the room with the intent to do harm. What would I do? The students began to comment with disgust and fear at his behavior. They were surprised at how calmly I handled the situation. The expressed fear and as a seasoned educator, I have wolfwoman syndrome and felt the need to protect my flock. So on I went to detail the event to my department chair.
Herein lies the problem. Those with whom I work are very sensitive individuals. They are liberals who all informed me that they "voted for Barack". They are the ones who pat me on the shoulder on November 5: "Congratulations! How do you feel? Did you ever think this would happen?"...yes, THOSE liberal folks are my coworkers. You know, the ones who talk about Barack Obama in the office really loudly, very close to my cubicle, so that I know they're "down" with the Obamalution. So I stopped to consider every word that I put on paper. I paused to consider every person that may/may not see what I wrote. I had to think of ways to sound as objective as possible, while showing concern for the student (this, afterall, is my job). But reality hit just as I was about to hit "send." There is no person of color in any power position that will have anything to do with this issue. So what am I really expecting them to do? I kept HOPE alive (afterall, they all seem to love that word these days). I hit send and waited. I read, and re-read the email to ensure that I had used words that conveyed enough urgency and disgust for the matter to be treated with urgency.
I will fast forward to why I'm troubled. I walked into class today, and this kid was sitting in the front of my room, waiting on me to enter.
"I'm sorry for what happened," he yelled, as I walked through the door.
And without responding, I paused to imagine that I were a petite white woman and that he were a black man (of any shade, height, and build) and I imagined what would have happened had he then exploded the way he did in my last class. HE WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN THERE! SO WHY THE HELL IS HE HERE? WHY? Really? WHY! I stood for 50 minutes before a class wondering just that. HOW is it possible that nobody considered that he was a danger to me and to his fellow classmates because he exploded and has demonstrated signs of instability. Why the lack of concern? If he were black and had hurled any insult at his innocent white professor who was simply trying to do her job, he'd be gone 15 mins before he even THOUGHT of exploding. Somehow, the white protectors would've been there to rescue the princess from the potential attack of a rabid human being who speaks in loud tones. SO WHY WAS THIS KID STILL SITTING IN FRONT OF ME and WHY wasn't there anyone from the administratio present to ensure that there would be no incidents? Is it because I'm too professional to tell him a few choice words or to insist that he realize his inferiority to me, the power player in the lecture room, who could make or break his immediate future? Should I have stormed out of my class bursting in tears, crying like a damsel in distress who was traumatized by the big bad bear? I don't get it. Where did I go wrong? WHY WAS HE THERE after clearly violating the college's code of conduct and after all necessary parties were notified?
Needless to say, he was a distraction to his fellow classmates for the entire session and I had to question those in charge after class was over. Now, the disciplinarians are still asking me to answer more questions about whether I deem him a threat EVEN AFTER at least 4 detailed reports being sent from me to them regarding this case. EVEN AFTER they have asked me what I would like to see happen to this kid and I said GET HIM OUT OF MY CLASS. They still want to know HOW dangerous I think he is. So, what I'm wondering is if he's only mildly dangerous, does this mean he stays? I don't get it!
Simply put, had the race cards been reversed and the situtation the same, that young man would have had a paper trail so long following his ass out of the college FOR GOOD, that he wouldn't even want to step on campus to enjoy the free ice-skating or to use the library. In fact, they might find some restraining order that would hold him at least one town away from the entrance of the college. THIS, my people, is the post-racial U.S.A, where our President rocks a fade and his wife gets a touch-up every 6 weeks. THIS is what happens when whitey attacks blackie and the power players look more like the attacker than the victim. $.02
Lately, there has been much talk about race and racism in our 'u'ni'topian' society. From chimps and shots to a nation of cowards, we've somehow begun to see that our society is not all that brave when ti comes to tackling issues of race. I have a feeling that very soon, these discussions will inevitably become so prominent that we will have no choice BUT to address what has been swept under a rug for so long (if you're white, that is). I say if you're white because for black people, race stares us in the face every morning before we leave our homes. Each day, we are reminded of our position in society, whether we're at the top or at the very bottom. Everyday that I stand before a class filled with white students, I remember that I'm black. Every time someone puts my change on the counter, I am reminded that I'm black. In fact, last week a student thought it wasn't enough that I see my beautiful black skin in the mirror every morning before heading to work, so he felt the need to remind me that I'm black. He received a grade that he didn't like on a paper and he retorted with a racial remark. Now, the result of this episode is what led me to write this post after almost 6 months of silence.
Let's recap the episode. I walk into a college classroom, stand at the podium, give my morning greeting and then walk towards the computer to start projecting the day's lesson. I begin the workshop and students are engaged in a discussion about their work. It is then that I realize that I need to return papers to them so they can critique and mend more of their work (this is an English class). I begin to return work and when said student receives his paper, his immediate response is to be on the defensive. Why? He earned a 4% on a quiz. I return his other paper (which he failed to actually revise after I made several suggestions for revision. So I just graded it as a draft, since I have nothing to do with people's ability to follow directions) and then the volcano erupted:
"Why would you give me a D?"
I looked around to make sure I had heard what I thought I heard.
"And why would you write to me in gel pen?"
Again, I wondered who the hell he thought he was talking to. I paused before responding and so happy I am that I paused.
"I know what you gave me a D...It's because you're bbb bbbb bbbbbbbbb"
At this point, I was ready to hear it. I've been called that before, here we go again! I figured, hmm, it's early in the semester but here we go! B____, yes yes, get it out, B____! And then...
"It's because you're BLACK and you think that you're the greatest force on the face of the earth!"
Pause...WHAT? What did he say? Triple pause again "HUH?"
Now clearly, if you have the talent of deductive reasoning, you can figure out the problem here.
My response was simple "I was born black, have been black all my life, and will continue to be black for as long as I live so deal with it!"
He got even angrier and began to flip out in his own little head and his own little world. The other students were aghast. I was rather calm and even that is something to think about. Why was I so calm? It's because this isn't the worst thing I've been called and it's because moments like these are what Ralph Ellison and Toni Morrison and Marcus Garvey have been preparing me for all my life. I was ready for that. What I wasn't ready for was what followed.
"I'm getting out of here! I'm not staying here!" and he stormed out in ire.
Now some minor details took place in between and editorial power gives me the right to write around them but his behavior left me wondering what the hell I would possibly do if that seemingly unstable individual should ever storm back into the room with the intent to do harm. What would I do? The students began to comment with disgust and fear at his behavior. They were surprised at how calmly I handled the situation. The expressed fear and as a seasoned educator, I have wolfwoman syndrome and felt the need to protect my flock. So on I went to detail the event to my department chair.
Herein lies the problem. Those with whom I work are very sensitive individuals. They are liberals who all informed me that they "voted for Barack". They are the ones who pat me on the shoulder on November 5: "Congratulations! How do you feel? Did you ever think this would happen?"...yes, THOSE liberal folks are my coworkers. You know, the ones who talk about Barack Obama in the office really loudly, very close to my cubicle, so that I know they're "down" with the Obamalution. So I stopped to consider every word that I put on paper. I paused to consider every person that may/may not see what I wrote. I had to think of ways to sound as objective as possible, while showing concern for the student (this, afterall, is my job). But reality hit just as I was about to hit "send." There is no person of color in any power position that will have anything to do with this issue. So what am I really expecting them to do? I kept HOPE alive (afterall, they all seem to love that word these days). I hit send and waited. I read, and re-read the email to ensure that I had used words that conveyed enough urgency and disgust for the matter to be treated with urgency.
I will fast forward to why I'm troubled. I walked into class today, and this kid was sitting in the front of my room, waiting on me to enter.
"I'm sorry for what happened," he yelled, as I walked through the door.
And without responding, I paused to imagine that I were a petite white woman and that he were a black man (of any shade, height, and build) and I imagined what would have happened had he then exploded the way he did in my last class. HE WOULD NOT HAVE BEEN THERE! SO WHY THE HELL IS HE HERE? WHY? Really? WHY! I stood for 50 minutes before a class wondering just that. HOW is it possible that nobody considered that he was a danger to me and to his fellow classmates because he exploded and has demonstrated signs of instability. Why the lack of concern? If he were black and had hurled any insult at his innocent white professor who was simply trying to do her job, he'd be gone 15 mins before he even THOUGHT of exploding. Somehow, the white protectors would've been there to rescue the princess from the potential attack of a rabid human being who speaks in loud tones. SO WHY WAS THIS KID STILL SITTING IN FRONT OF ME and WHY wasn't there anyone from the administratio present to ensure that there would be no incidents? Is it because I'm too professional to tell him a few choice words or to insist that he realize his inferiority to me, the power player in the lecture room, who could make or break his immediate future? Should I have stormed out of my class bursting in tears, crying like a damsel in distress who was traumatized by the big bad bear? I don't get it. Where did I go wrong? WHY WAS HE THERE after clearly violating the college's code of conduct and after all necessary parties were notified?
Needless to say, he was a distraction to his fellow classmates for the entire session and I had to question those in charge after class was over. Now, the disciplinarians are still asking me to answer more questions about whether I deem him a threat EVEN AFTER at least 4 detailed reports being sent from me to them regarding this case. EVEN AFTER they have asked me what I would like to see happen to this kid and I said GET HIM OUT OF MY CLASS. They still want to know HOW dangerous I think he is. So, what I'm wondering is if he's only mildly dangerous, does this mean he stays? I don't get it!
Simply put, had the race cards been reversed and the situtation the same, that young man would have had a paper trail so long following his ass out of the college FOR GOOD, that he wouldn't even want to step on campus to enjoy the free ice-skating or to use the library. In fact, they might find some restraining order that would hold him at least one town away from the entrance of the college. THIS, my people, is the post-racial U.S.A, where our President rocks a fade and his wife gets a touch-up every 6 weeks. THIS is what happens when whitey attacks blackie and the power players look more like the attacker than the victim. $.02
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