"Urban" Education: What's that?

Usually when I tell people that I am getting a masters degree in Urban Education, the common response is "Oh...what does that mean?"  If my brother is in ear shot of the conversation, he is not afraid to chime in and tell them bluntly that I am learning how to teach poor Black and Latino students.  The first time this happened, I was taken a back and felt the need to "soften" and expand on his response explaining how it's not just that, but it's looking at the social, cultural, political, and economic factors that play within urban schools and education, in attempt to make "urban" encompass more than just race and class. But even in my explanation, I realized I too used the word urban, allowing whomever was asking to define urban in whatever way they deem fit; colored with whatever serotypes they may already have had, while not actually ever defining it itself.

The more I learn, the more I understand what it means to be white in the US, and the more I am asked what it means for me to get a masters in Urban Education, the more I realize how accurate  my brother actually is in his response.  So, why then did I feel like his definition was callous and in need of softening, in need of an explanation, when in fact learning how to better facilitate the educational growth of Black & Latino students is exactly my intention?

I recently read an a couple of articles that I think begin to touch upon my discomfort.  In one of the articles, entitled "What Do You Mean When You Say Urban," the author Dyan Watson mentions that when interviewing 17 teachers about what were, if any, the differences between urban and non-urban teaching a teacher responded saying "To me, urban students come from an environment where they can't see the value of education.  They can't see why it matters because everyone one they know, everything that they do, has nothing to do with having an education." And here in lies why I think I was quick to expand on my brother's definition on urban.  Despite the ignorance, and falsity of the statement, this teacher's response is not an uncommon understanding of urban students and urban communities.  I admittedly also held a similar view in my first few months of ever teaching. However, the more I got to know my students and their families, I began to understand just how naive and wrong I was. So when my brother points out that these students are Black and Latino, I am quick to protect, and defend my students and their communities.  I do not want to perpetuate the stereotype that urban = poor Black and Latino communities who do not value education.  To an outsider the perception of issues connected with poverty and race might seem to overshadow a student's priority towards formal education, but that should not be equated to a student's or community's devaluation of education.  

What am I then getting a masters in, you ask....I am getting a masters in uncomfortably exploring my whiteness in contrast and connection to communities of color, in addition to talking about race and examining the social, cultural, political, and economic realities of students and communities of color in relationship to me, their teacher, and the role of public education and school in general, as well as engaging in discourse around how we as a larger community, through education, can better support the Black and Latino communities most in need.  

Yes, a masters in Urban Education is certainly shorter to say, but its title only speaks to its perception and stereotypes and not to its essence and true intention.  

Evolving Mathematicians - Changing Education

As I have mentioned in previous posts, one of the major draws that brought me to FIU was to learn and gain experience from both my advisor and the work of the Algebra Project (AP). Therefore, at the start of the semester, we had worked into my schedule that I would visit and observe an AP classroom, once a week, as a way to begin my research. However, what started out as "research" quickly turned into a wonderful (3 days a week) coaching and learning opportunity at Miami Northwestern High School with Ms. C' and her 9th grade Algebra, "Algebra Project," 5th period class. 

In the short time, Ms. C and I have been working together (with the help of Dr. Moses and other AP coaches), her class has begun to transform from one of chaos* to one of organized chaos centered around learning of high rigor. Despite the growth on Ms. C's part as a teacher, her classroom still lacks many of the resources that can further support her students in their development of becoming autonomous learners and divergent thinkers. 

If you are able, please consider helping to contribute toward building Ms. C's classroom resources, through her Donor's Choose project: "Evolving Mathematicians - Changing Education." In donating you will not only be gifting resources but you will also be supporting the important and inspiring work of Dr. Moses, The Algebra Project, Ms. C & her incredible students. 

Between now & Nov 3, use the code INSPIRE, and have your donation matched.

(http://www.donorschoose.org/project/evolving-mathematicians-changing-educa/1112591/) 

Much Gratitude! 

*What first year teacher's classroom is not chaos in its first months?!?

A Reflection: Moving from the dark & difficult to the bright and dazzling

(For one of my courses I am asked to read and respond to articles on a weekly basis.  Here is one of my recent reflections, with hopefully more to come.)

In an article written by my inspiring advisor, Dr. Joan T. Wynne, entitled Moving from the dark & difficult to the bright and dazzling about the school to prison pipeline, she refers to a  TED.com talk by Bryan Stevenson, Director of Equal Justice Initiative in which he states "It's that mind-heart connection that I believe compels us to not just be attentive to all the bright and dazzling things but also the dark and difficult things.” In Wynne's article she connects Stevenson's idea to our current educational system.  She states that for educators, part of the “dark and difficult” is the growth of the school to prison pipeline and its impact on marginalized students and on society’s dream of becoming a real democracy. She continues explaining that another aspect of the "difficult" is the necessary admission by white and female teachers (who make up 84% of public school teacher) that we live in a racist country, benefiting from power and privilege that have an adverse effect on citizens of color. Wynne goes on to argue that "our admission of unearned power and privilege is a crucial starting point if we are to engage in meaningful conversation about justice and equity." Wynne continues to share the "bright and dazzling" that can be found within The Algebra Project movement and its youth-run offspring, The Young People's Project.

In reflection of Wynne's article, her thesis and essential question around the “dark and difficult things” with similar exposure to “bright and dazzling things” embody the reasons I decided to pursue a masters degree in Urban Education.  For the past 7 years I have been one of the 84% of white female public educators, and the growth of the school to prison pipeline is a reality that I am unfortunately all too familiar with in connection to my students.  The more entrenched I became within my profession, and engaged in my students lives; the more I realized the deep seeded racism that continues to permeate policies within our society and schools (especially the racism that I myself was, and still am, clueless too and have benefited from). 

In my experience the first thing that became apparent to me was how the urban schools I worked in were modeled, as Henry Giroux points out, after prisons.  Both in Chicago and NYC, as for district policy, my students were required to enter through metal detectors as they entered the school building.  In Chicago, female and male students had to enter through different entrances, so if necessary they could also be pat down by school security.  In NYC, all students entered through the same entrance but were greeted (or I should say berated) by school security that wore NYPD uniforms. Before any of my students reached my classroom they were already being treated like criminals.  In NYC my students (specifically my male students) endured the effects of the Stop & Frisk policy that contributes to the growth of the school to prison pipeline.  During the summer of 2012 I participated in a silent march in protest of the policy. It was the first time I had ever participated in a march for civil rights. I marched not just as a citizen but also as an educator; I marched for my students, for all students: past, present, and future. I found an incredible power in the sound of silence that day; and for anyone who was watching the march understood that the absence of noise did not mean we were silent.

Too often though, we as teachers are silent. Race is not something that is openly talked about within our school buildings, let alone how it affects how and what we teach. I agree with Wynne, that the shift also has to also happen within the Colleges of Education (COE) to make way for the conversations to begin to happen in the schools.  From personal experience I received little to no understanding of the challenges and issues hindering the educational success of my students.  None of the required courses to earn my degree and teaching certificate looked at the implications and effects of public policies on education or the importance of multicultural education for all students. Luckily, in both Chicago and NYC, I worked for administrators who also believed that such policies deemed by the district were detrimental to the betterment of our students and pushed alternative restorative justice discipline policies, and the implementation of teaching pedagogies whose aim was to increase both the teacher and student creativity and autonomy around learning (with similar attributes to those within the Algebra Project). In NYC I was even allowed to teach a 3 week mini course on the history and evolution of the n-word. Because of my administrations I was asked and encouraged to engage in conversations around race and education. However, when I then began looking for a COE to pursue a masters I was even more limited in finding educational programs that focused on and acknowledge these issues. The teaching profession in the United States is unfortunately still not revered and valued and that is apparent in the operations and admissions in COE.  If COEs and governments (federal and state) were really concerned about the disparities within the public school system, they would begin to honestly explore the injustice and inequity with in our society and how do we continue to close not just the achievement gap but rather the societal gap that exists. But until then, we as educators have to continue the professional development, force the uneasy but important conversations.  And for those of us white females, it must start with the uncomfortable reality of admitting that we live and benefit from the racism still entwined within our society.  

50 years later, "Now is [STILL] the time..."

Dropping My Anger

"Whoever gets angry, if he is a wise man, his wisdom departs from him" 

- Jewish Gemara, Pesachim 66b

For many educators, teaching can be an extremely personal profession - if not one of the most, only after being a parent.  Our classrooms become our homes away from home (often times spending more hours at school than in our own homes) and our curriculum, classroom structures and routines are an extension of our educational beliefs, personalities, and identities. We tend to refer to our students as our kids.  In fact when my students ask me if I have any children, I usually respond, "Yes, I have 500+ children, but none right now are biological nor legally adopted."  So when we are asked, demanded, to change our practices or given constructive criticism, I can at least speak for myself and say, that I immediately get on the defensive; wanting, needing, to protect and defend what is ultimately at the core of my teaching, me.  

In the three years I taught in NYC I experienced three different schedules with three different models of teaching.  At the end of the 2011-2012 school year, I was more exhausted than ever and that fearful burned out feeling was creeping in. So it only made sense that when the school year ended and my principal informed me once again my curriculum, classroom structure, and supports were going to change for the future school year all I had the energy to do was crumble to the floor in the hallway right outside my room, tears of frustration, anger, and exhaustion streaming down my face, repeating over and over, “when will it just be easy? I just want it to be easy!”  But "easy" was not what I really wanted, it was consistency, it was autonomy and recognition that what my students and I were accomplishing in my classroom was good and not in need to drastic change!

I had spent countless hours over the course of the 2011-2012 school year collaborating with my math team, participating in weekly video debriefs of our teaching methods, and weekly coaching meetings with my Assistant Principal and mentor, Luke, (who never ceases to push my thinking and challenge me to constantly improve).  I spent half the year working on my questioning techniques and making sure my teacher moves were intentional, promoting the facilitation of the growth of independent critical thinkers, rather than empty receptacles awaiting to receive information. So the last thing I wanted to hear, was that I was going to be expected and required by administration to alter my teaching pedagogy completely, to one that was originally developed to promote literacy in an elementary setting and had really never been done in its true form in a Math high school class. I was confused, I was frustrated, and I was angry! It may have even been the first time in my life that I had even felt this sort of anger.

I spent the first few months of the 2012-2013 school year, walls up, in total defensive mode of my classroom and curriculum, fighting and arguing with my administration (or as we would call it at my school, "push back").  I was confident in my abilities as a teacher and didn't feel like I needed the rigid structure that the pedagogy requires. I felt all I had been working towards in the past 6 years was under attack and in response I refused to drink the Kool-aid. But I also refused to drop my anger, which ultimately hindered my growth and more importantly the growth and success of my students.

By the time Thanksgiving came around, I was tired of fighting, I was tired of being angry, and decided it was time to drop my anger and begin to just give in. I came to understand that my push back and hard-ass attitude was also my ego's way of asking for help. I would push and challenge in hopes someone would push and challenge me with more force, compelling me to think, to reflect, and to step outside my comfort area and grow.  So instead of pushing back (with little honest interest in hearing a response) I began to humble myself and ask for the help and support I felt I needed. What transpired over the course of the following 7 months thus became the most transformative months of my teaching career.  Ironically, once I dropped my anger I didn't have to just give in, I was able to admit that my personal philosophy behind education was similar to that of LC which then allowed me to engage with the pedagogy in more productive verse destructive ways.

Unlike other school years, I ended the 2012-2013 school year exhausted but energized. What I learned in my past year of teaching is how much more I as an educator, and my students, can gain if I am only willing to lower my wall of defenses, drop my anger, put my ego aside, humble myself within my of “expertise,” and honestly and openly engaging in a dialogue whose end goal is ultimately the same as mine: to create life long independent critical thinkers. Some might say that in the end, I drank the Kool-aid, and they would be right. I did. But not before I dropped my anger and in a clear minded intellectual professional manner was sure the Kool-aid was worth drinking and not spiked. Turns out, it was pretty tasty too!

After this experience, I can now only wonder what would happen within public education in this country if we all (teachers, administrators, politicians) dropped our anger? We each have too much wisdom to share and grow from to risk losing it to anger...

**This post is dedicated to my amazing family at UAGC. I could not, would not, have gone through this journey without them! I am endlessly grateful for my colleagues who never gave up on me and supported, challenged, and entertained my rants throughout the year. Thank you! Thank you for helping me become a more humbled and inspired educator, leader, and individual.

An Unexpected Emotion

I have been totally consumed all day by the Trayvon/Zimmerman verdict and even more so by the larger societal issues it, and all the incomprehensible deaths of former students, has highlighted. But among all the sadness, frustrations, there is also an overwhelming feeling of gratitude and honor to be an educator at this time. My students and colleagues have opened my eyes to a world of beauty and hope. They have added to my inspiration, my courage, my strength. I will miss being in the classroom with them next year dearly, but all the more so, excited and ready to engage in the difficult conversation of RACE and for the once in a life time opportunity to work with and learn from the Civil Rights Leader Bob Moses and his Algebra Project. This is not a time to dwell in what happened, but think about how we as a society, as individuals, are going to move forward, and take that step. Taking my step...

Looking Back

As I try to put my thoughts together for my next post, I thought I would share two teaching journal entries of my 1st and 2nd years of teaching.  Much has changed and has been learned since 2006 (I have changed as an educator and a person and I have learned a lot about myself and what I believe a "great" teacher and education should look like), but some things remain the same: I still cry, I still love and believe in my students, and I can not imagine doing anything else.

Even in 2013, my students from those beginning years 

remain inspirations and reminders to stay resilient no 

matter the challenge. Each and every one of them is 

worth it!

November 14, 2006

I’ve been teaching for about 11 weeks, and I thought I would give you a glimpse into a day in the life of Ms. Red.  For starters, it’s not fun.  For every good day there are 5 bad ones right behind it.  There are more tears than smiles.  I come home from work each day exhausted and drained, and I hate going to sleep at night (especially on Sundays) because I’m scared and nervous to have to go to work in the morning.  Everyone I talk to says that it gets easier – so as the weeks go on the routine and organization of being a teacher gets easier but the job seems to get harder.  The ironic part of it all, is that, I never really cared much about being a math teacher, I just wanted to inspire kids through coaching basketball, and as a first year teacher I haven’t touched a basketball in months.  I think about finding a new job about once a week, but the Chicago Bulls don’t have any positions open in their community relations department just yet, but I’ll keep trying.  In the mean time, I try to make due with where I am at. 

I am teaching in a Chicago neighborhood called North Lawndale, on the central west side of the city – near the United Center.  98% of the students that come to my school are coming from low income homes.  99% of the school is Black.  My students are faced with more than just passing my class, let alone high school.  They worry about getting Jumped after school, and even in school.  Sometimes its gang related and sometimes its just because one kid didn’t like the way another kid was looking at them. A lot of students are already involved in Gang activity and most will join a gang by the end of the year. Some go home to a household where they are in charge of 5 other brothers/sisters/cousins and household chores of cleaning and cooking because their mother or grandmother is out working her 2^nd job of the day.  I’m having difficulty just connecting and relating to my students.  And on top of that teaching math is extremely challenging because my students have no concept of respect for me or even themselves. 

The other night I attempted to make about 15 phone calls to parents (some pos. and some neg) to try and get them involved, yet half the numbers were disconnected.  I got in touch with a few but most parents/guardians are not so involved and some of the ones that are do so by trying to instill fear within their student, often by using force.  I’ve witnessed students get slapped in the face by a parent/guardian numerous times as a way of discipline – while other staff and parents also watched as though nothing wrong was going on.  For me I sat there, not knowing if I should look or not.  If I looked away, I felt I would then be denying the fact that something wrong was taking place, but if I looked, I would just become another passive bystander.  Then last week I was chewed out by a mother (who was mentally unstable) accusing me of Character Analyzing her child for calling him a class-clown on a write up as well as making up the fact that her son had also cursed me out in class.  It is these types of issues I am asked to deal with each and every day – along with trying to convince my students that math is fun!

So you might be asking yourself, why the hell am I still working here…..  I ask myself that same question almost everyday around 6^th period.  And this is what I usually come up with:

To think, how little I knew about teaching back then....

My 8th period Algebra class Y1.  These students taught 

me more than I/they could ever have imagined. I am 

forever grateful to have had the privilege to have been 

their teacher! 

I used to be very idealistic, and thought I could EASILY walk into a school and change the life of my students for the better.   I once remember telling a friend that if I even just affect one student’s life, for even just a minute, it would all be worth it. Now they disagreed – they argued what’s the point of doing something when you know the possibility of success is so low its basically nonexistent.  I think about what they said all the time these days wondering if what I am doing really is worth it.  I haven’t found an answer to that question, but I do know that when I talk about quitting teaching, my mom constantly suggests that before I quit teaching I should maybe try working at a better school.  My response to her every time is no.  If I teach, it will be at Manley (As long as I don’t get fired).  Yet I can never tell my mom why – and I’m not so sure I know why.  It’s kind of like that gut feeling that just tells you yes or no.  And mine tells me yes….well at least until I open up my own basketball after school youth center/safe heaven, preferably funded by one of the professional basketball teams (depending on where I am living at the time).  But until that day – I’m going to try and keep trucking.

...and one year later...

November 18, 2007

I feel like I have dropped off the face of the planet.  It’s amazing how fast this school year is flying by.  I have been meaning to sit down and begin the tale of year 2 for months now, but it seem time has escaped me.  As I write this now with one quarter down and three to go I can say a lot has changed since those ill feelings I was having over 3 months ago.  In August I wrote in my Journal:

“The first day of school is approaching fast and those nauseous and anxiety filled feelings are beginning to creep in.  My dreams have already been taken over by first day of school nightmares: 30 plus students running around, out of uniform, not listening to a word I say, with nothing to teach.  And to top it all off, I’m being observed by administration.  So to say the least, I’m ready for school to start – if only to get those precious hours of sleep back. However, I know I’m in for another rollercoaster of a year, and unfortunately I can’t say I feel that much more comfortable then I did last year.”

Now in November with the first day long behind me, I am happy to report I sleep soundly (when I find time to sleep) and I am far more comfortable this year then I ever was last year.  And most importantly, the tears are few and far between, and I can honestly say that I LOVE my job.  Year two is definitely easier than year one, however, it is still far from easy. 

In life we tend not to see our accomplishments when we are in the midst of them, however, it is only afterwards, when we are able to take a step back, that we are able to see all that we have achieved.  At the end of last school year, I felt accomplished; I mean, I made it through the year in one piece, and ready to try again only after a well needed summer vacation.  Yet, I wasn’t sure if I felt accomplished in terms of my students.  I wondered if they had learned, not just about math but about life.  Was I able to get through to some of my students that there is more out there then they see?  Was I able to make a difference in their lives?  You always here of these teacher that single handedly changed students lives, you watch their stories on TV and in the Movies, and I can name a few that changed mine.  I want to help change lives, I want to be that teacher to some!  And after year one, I wasn’t so sure if I had accomplished that or if I am meant to accomplish that….

But then they start to trickle in – within the first few weeks of school, my students from last year started to come back just to say hello.   Now that I am not their teacher I have become approachable – and I begin to realize, I was able to do what I had hoped to do.  It sounds so controlling – that want to have this power over my students – but on the contrary I want to do my job correctly.  To me a teacher is more than an individual who stands at the front of a classroom teaching you the laws of physics or the ways of writing, but is someone who also a role model, someone who helps ignite a passion

A student of mine came to me the other week.  She is now a sophomore.  She looked at me and told me she wanted to tell me something but didn’t want me to be disappointed in her.  I told her she couldn’t disappoint me and asked her what was going on.  She then handed me sonogram pictures, she couldn’t even tell me, all she could do was show me the pictures, she was 3 months pregnant.  I faked a smile and told her she would have to do far worse to disappoint me.  We then continued to talk about her plans for having and caring for the baby as well as staying in school.  I didn’t lie to her, I wasn’t disappointed, I was just sad.  As she left my room, I just sat unable to move or speak. 

Working late hours is what I do.  I realize more and more my job does not end at 3pm when the bell rings, in fact if I let it, it would never end.  A friend from work and I call it the curse of being a teacher who cares.