Reminder

Sometimes, as the days of school streak by like a high speed train train, I sometimes forget why it was that I got into teaching. 

I remember writing a mission statement when I was in grad school, and I essentially said that I wanted to teach because I wanted to make a difference in the world. I thought to really make a difference, then I needed to work in a tougher school. 

Well, things didn't really work out that way, and sometimes, as I look out at my kids, who are all fairly well off and sheltered, I wonder to myself just why I am doing this. Sure, I love what I do, but why? It's not for the summer vacation. That alone is not enough to make one endure the constant stresses placed upon a teacher on a regular basis. Today, I was given a reminder.

Each year I teach my students about civil rights and the civil rights movement of the 50s and 60s. For me, it is an especially important unit to teach because we still see the effects of that era today play out in neighborhoods across the country. As long as I have lived in Virginia, I am always shocked when I hear people use the N word when they think they are close enough to me to be comfortable. I am never comfortable with it, and it's because of what I learned about the era in which people were willing to risk their lives for change. I have never accepted people's reasons for using the word, as it is and always will be a hateful word, no matter who says it, black or white. 

Today I showed my kids a video that had news footage from the 50s and 60s that included the Little Rock 9, MLK, Malcom X, Rosa Parks, as well as the KKK, signs with words "Go Home N-----" written on them and cops with fire hoses beating back protestors. They also saw (after I told some to put their heads down if they didn't want to see) Bloody Sunday, in which police literally trampled over protestors with their horses. The kids were visibly shaken. I stopped the video and we talked about how they felt about what they saw, and many of them were upset.  

In addition to the footage from that time, much of it was about how the youth of that time were many of the champions for change, and how they made a difference. To close the lesson, I asked the kids how what happened then impacts their lives today. I had them write their thoughts and post them on the board. They didn't have to write their names, so they felt okay sharing what they felt. 

Although the kids were upset, I told them that it's okay to be sad about it, because it means that they care. 

The best part, for me, was that one student told me that in her neighborhood, someone had sprayed the N word on a sign. She said that people were staring at it, but they didn't know what to do. She told me that she now knows what to do: take down or clean off the sign. I told her to talk to her mom, but I thought it was a great idea. 

I'm sure I could be called a rabble rouser, but if there's anything I want my kids to walk away knowing after being with me for a year, I want them to know that it's okay to stand up for your rights, to always try to make a difference and sometimes choosing the right thing is sometimes choosing the hardest path to take.

And that is why I teach. I can make a difference.