Breaking Bread or Teeth on Equity in Education?

OK. Here is my beef. I have just spent one of two full days in a district-wide educator training focused on bringing about racial equity in our schools. I'm hip to issues of racial equity. After all, I devote much of my time on and off the clock to studying and acting on my knowledge of racial and social justice issues in the classroom and out in the community (though, of course, I never feel that I am doing enough).

I was actually looking forward to having an opportunity to delve into these complex issues with experienced guidance and seasoned colleagues from the field of education. But pretty quickly into the training, I realized the workshop would leave a lot to be desired.

What I was hoping for was some time to examine and discuss best practices ensuring students of color thrive in the high school classroom and in educational settings beyond. What I got were two trainers, both veteran teachers, forgetting all about using effective teaching techniques and talking at their audience of educators almost the entire day without giving us much of a chance to process or utilize in the ways useful to us the materials presented. Much time was spent in large group discussion on elementary topics, which with more than two-hundred participants can get frustrating, to say the least.

The instructors talked down to us, lingering on simple concepts and weaving elaborate examples of situations which could have easily and quickly been grasped by six-year-olds. Worse yet, the trainers never took the time to pre-assess their audience and their prior knowledge or needs. We could have easily been grouped by prior knowledge and focus or at least been given more time in pairs and groups to maximize our time as participants, grappling with issues pertinent to us and our practice.

Mind you, I am not one to shirk from my responsibility as a white educator very conscious of my role in the educational system. I am someone who doesn't withdraw from this work easily, but rather seeks out and engages in difficult conversations about racism despite my own discomfort. I have done so for my own growth, for those whom I love, and out of my desire for the betterment of my community. However, this workshop has so far been less than productive.

Something else I noticed there and in several other workshops I have attended lately on education and racial equity was a divisive tone which seemed to emerge, if not dominate the conversation.

To illustrate, one of the trainers, uttered these pronouncements as she addressed the entire congregation of attendees:

"We all know who the teachers in our building are who are hurting our babies (of color)."

And: "The people who think they know (or think they have racial consciousness) when they don't, are the most toxic kind."

Now, tell me if that sounds like a good way to open up discussion and help people engage, or a good way to shut down the predominantly white participants, many of whom were already evidently feeling uncomfortable and less than qualified to contribute to a dialogue on issues of race and racism.

In my mind, finger pointing is not an effective way to get people on board or to build trust for the work that needs to be done in our district and all across the country. The authors of the book, Courageous Conversations About Race: A Field Guide for Achieving Equity in Schools, on which the training is based, make the following statement: "We suspect most educators already believe that racism is morally wrong. The challenge for us is to advance our shared moral position into a realizable and comprehensive foundation for challenging institutional racism."

They also write, "The key to. . . successful friendship and collaboration is our willingness to communicate openly, honestly, and respectfully about race. And in believing and trusting each other across racial categories, we can begin addressing the issue of race within our schools."

Evaluating my experience as a participant in a myriad of anti-racist and diversity trainings, I made a note in my notebook about the approach to racial justice work that I believe we ought to take:

We, as educators and community members at large, must acknowledge the painful reality and historical legacy of racism and our place within this history, but we need to start operating from a place of hope and possibility, seeing each other across perceivable differences as allies in this work. The glass must be half-full. We must get away from the deficiency models and switch to identifying and drawing on best practices and drawing out the strengths of those who have been traditionally perceived as "underachievers." Let's utilize the richness of all of our experiences (including the students' and the families'). The resources are already there.

This quote by Asa G. Hilliard, an educator cited in today's training materials, is what should set the tone of any and all future racial equity in education workshops:

The knowledge and skills to educate all children already exist. Because we have lived in a historically oppressive society, educational issues tend to be framed as technical issues, which denies their political origin and meaning. . . There are no pedagogical barriers to teaching and learning when willing people are prepared and made available to children.

So, let's study those best practices instead of using guilt trips and some pseudo-psychological techniques to take us all on self-examination journeys. Yes, we need to examine our own biases, but we as teachers also need some modeling, mentoring and guidance with effective, hands-on, culturally-specific, anti-racist practice. Where is effective teaching already happening? Who's doing it? What does it look like in practice?

Finally, something I want to set straight for the record is that I am of the opinion that the entire premise of the book and the training having to do with closing the achievement gap, as measured by standardized tests, is bogus. Standardized test scores have not been shown to effectively indicate anything but students' race and socioeconomic status. They have been correlated with shallow, not deep or critical thinking, and their history is less than rosy. Read Standardized Minds by Peter Sacks, for instance, to learn that the modern-day standardized testing is firmly rooted in the eugenics-driven concept of weeding out "undesirable" populations from the military and institutions of higher education.

I, in fact, feel that standardized tests are one of the most destructive tools of oppression, which demoralizes non-mainstream students (including students like me, a European immigrant) and their teachers while perpetuating institutional racism.

When dealing with equity issues on a systemic level, which is what this training purports to emphasize, we must be willing to challenge the basic tenets of what is accepted as the norm. It may sound naive, but why not push for authentic, multifaceted assessment rather than accepting, resigned, standardized test scores as the only measure of student success? I understand that issues of school funding are tied to test scores, but that should not prevent us from thinking outside the box and for striving for a vision of a learning environment that is workable, sustainable and equitable for all.

Part 2 of my reflection on the equity training: here.

Noted: A New Report on the Black Male Student Experience in Public Schools

Black male students . . . are more than twice as likely to be classified as Mentally Retarded as White male students, in spite of research demonstrating that the percentages of students from all groups are approximately the same at each intelligence level. . . More than twice as many Black male students as White male students receive out of school suspensions and three times as many Black male students as White male students are expelled.

That's according to a new study, NPR reported on today, showing an alarming racial disparity in high school graduation rates and treatment of Black male students in secondary schools around the country.

The study, entitled “Yes We Can: The 2010 Schott 50 State Report on Black Males in Public Education,” also found that the overall 2007/8 graduation rate for Black males in the U.S. was only 47 percent, compared to a 78 rate for white males.

"Out of the 48 states reporting," states the Schott Foundation for Public Education report, "Black males are the least likely to graduate from high school in 33 states."

"To add insult to injury," the report finds, "Black male students are punished more severely for similar infractions than their White peers. They are not given the same opportunities to participate in classes with enriched educational offerings."

As a high school teacher with many students who are Black males, I am concerned about these findings, and consider it my responsibility to do everything in my power to try to reverse the negative trends described in the study.

According to the report summary:

Good schools are fully resourced, with talented, caring teachers, well-trained and numerous support staff, and protective and supportive administrators — and poorly performing schools are not. Good schools have challenging curricula, high expectations for all students, and an expectation of success. Poor schools do not. Good schools have libraries, an adequate supply of textbooks and computers, art and music programs, and science labs. Most schools with majority Black enrollments do not.

Of course, I am most interested in what constitutes the conditions for success. The report lists them as these:

• Equitable resources to support students to master rigorous, content standards-based education
• Universal, well-planned, and high quality preschool education for all three- and four- year-olds
• Programs to address student and school needs attributable to high-poverty, including intensive early literacy, small class size, after-school and summer programming, and social and health services
• New and rehabilitated facilities to adequately house all programs, relieve overcrowding, and eliminate health and safety violations
• State accountability to ensure progress in improving student achievement

It is also worthwhile to examine the conditions for failure. Especially of importance to me as a classroom teacher are these performance hindering circumstances to avoid:

• Watered-down curriculum for disadvantaged students in schools inadequately supported by funding far below that in successful suburban schools
• Little intensive early literacy instruction, large class sizes, short school days, no weekend and summer programs, and few social and health services
• Inexperienced and ill-trained teachers
• Lack of educationally sound living and learning environments
• Lack of parent and community engagement in the reform process

I start teaching tomorrow, a week into the school year, because I was just hired a few days ago after teaching in a different district last year. I have vowed to uphold high expectations for my students, to provide an engaging, creative and rigorous curriculum, to make my process transparent and to keep an open line of communication with the students' families, involving them as much as possible in what our learning community does.

With all these responsibilities comes advocating for my students as I pay attention to policy making, on the regional and national level, because political decisions obviously affect what goes on in the classroom and beyond.

It is crucial, as the report proclaims, for me as a teacher, to help "ensure that all students have a right to an opportunity to learn, not as a matter of competition or location, but as a civil and human right."

Fortunately, I have an excellent mentor and a whole community of brilliant educators and social justice activists to help keep me in check and to collaborate with. As my mentor and veteran high school teacher, Linda Christensen, writes:

Teaching for joy and justice isn't an individual endeavor. We can't do this work alone. . . I attempt to keep my vision--and hope--alive by continuing to participate in critical teaching groups. . . To use Toni Morrison's words, these 'friends of my mind' help me think more carefully about social justice issues inside as well as outside of the classroom, from literacy practices to top-down curricular policies. . . I carry these voices . . . like a Greek chorus in my mind. They remind me to question and sometimes to defy those in authority when I'm told to participate in practices that harm children. . . They help me choose the more courageous path because I know I'm not alone.