Thanksgiving Blessing

This thanksgiving I feel blessed to be surrounded by a team who strives to create capable students.  Students who not only feel like they can do the math in geometry class, but who also feel as if they can handle girl drama, family tragedies, or no food for dinner.  Resilient students who rise above their circumstances and learn to navigate this unpredictable world. Students who understand how to learn despite all the noise of life around them.

Recently, out of anger, a student put another student in a headlock during class.  This came on the heals of the student teasing the other and taking it too far.  A common playfulness between two boys went awry when one student just snapped.  Upon talking to the student who placed the headlock, he shares that he had a terrible night.  You see, he has no record of any sort of aggression.  He doesn't get sent out of class for being defiant and gets good grades.  The night before, however, his father was arrested.  He witnessed the whole ordeal.  I could have simply yelled at this student and sent him off with his consequence, but I have found that simply asking questions creates a much better learning opportunity.  This is true for any person.  We can either jump to conclusions, reprimand and redirect without ever learning why or we can ask questions and get to the heart of what is going on.

So many students have cried in my office.  It has honestly shocked me.  When one on one, these hard, disengaged students reveal their true colors.  They are hurting.  They are lost.  They feel forgotten.  They feel misheard.  They feel beaten down by stereotypes and discrimination.  They feel in over their head.  I seriously wonder whether I know what I am doing and how I got into this position.  Where did I learn to console a student who finally confided that he is simply sad and too depressed to go to class?  Where did I learn how to talk to the girl known as a bully to remind her that she is better than that, that I believe in her?  Where did I learn how to listen intently and how to seek help as a student talks about harming themselves?  These are not things I was taught formally in school and I fear daily that I might mess it up.  But when we know better, we do better.

This weekend a student passed away abruptly from a medical condition.  When anyone passes away people often revert back to their last interaction with that person.  What were my last words?  How did the student feel leaving my office? Did they feel belittled, hopeless, and angry, or did they feel capable, reflective, heard and optimistic?  I hope it was the latter.  I know in my heart that the team I work with always strives to ensure the latter.  I am blessed with a team that seeks to understand and educate versus harm and belittle.  A team that doesn't want to show their power and dominance over students, but seeks instead to help the students know better and do better.

Somebody's child

As I go about my work as a Dean of Students it could be easy to lay down the law and assume all students have to abide by a particular set of rules.  That is simply not the case.  These are somebody's children.  My mom learned early in my life that I have to have more meals in the day or I would become a whiny baby.  She didn't know that when I arrived, she learned that through trial and error because, as my mom, she made it her mission to figure out what I needed. Our students have a unique set of needs we need to consider as well.  We mustn't assume they are just being bad to be bad.   We have to get to the root of the problem because, after all, they are somebody's child.  What would you want if  it were your child?

This isn't something I knew going into teaching.  The rules of school worked for me.  I lettered in academics, had opportunities to be challenged and opportunities to be successful.  But what didn't work for me was three big meals a day as a child.  I needed snacks, and that's ok. Nobody wants a hangry Jessi!  The same is true for students in our classrooms, hallways and communities.  As a Dean, my line gets drawn at safety and the integrity of the classroom; I make that known to students.  If you are making a class unsafe, making classmates feel unsafe, or if you are inhibiting the learning of others and compromising the integrity of the classroom, then something needs to change.  Additionally, it behooves me to ensure that while demanding safety and the integrity of the classroom that I find a way to educate the student.  They deserve an education too.  What would you want if it were your child?

So, when constantly thrust into the world of a couple of students who I find myself interacting with daily, I remind myself that they are somebody's child.  Somebody loves them and wants the world for them (and if that is not the case then it is my duty to show them I want the world for them).  As their educator, I have a duty to find a way to educate them and prepare them to have a prosperous life despite their need for an extra meal (or two) in a day.  What would you want if it were your child?

Privilege

Yellowstone River

I live a privileged life. I spent two weeks and 4600 miles on a road trip to Utah, Colorado, Wyoming and Montana. I didn’t feel unsafe traveling and camping alone, as a white woman, until an old white guy started flirting with me while I pumped my last tank of gas in South Dakota.  I am truly blessed. It was the perfect trip after my first year as a dean of students at a high school. A year where I was thrust into the realities of our students’ lives and the challenges they face for decisions outside of their control. It was a lot for me to handle; I realized how sensitive I really am. I don’t want to see 18 students get arrested in a year. But I also don’t want a boy to manhandle a girl into leaving school for the day when they are fighting. I want to see these students get the help they need now and an education so they can live happy, prosperous lives. Sadly, I’ve turned to stating “you will be arrested for this if I was a police officer” when a student blatantly disregards my request to call home when tardy or to simply take off their hat, because that is actually what I have seen happen. Disregard law enforcement, then you will get arrested. I want to teach them before they are released as adults with their diploma in hand. 

Delicate Arch, Utah

But then I opened up social media when I returned home yesterday and saw the news of Alton Sterling and I am thrust back into reality. Hours later, I found myself on twitter and see a new hashtag #FalconHeightsShooting, a town just down the road. I proceed to watch a 9 minute video of Philando Castile’s last few breaths on Facebook Live. We must start recognizing our own privilege. I can travel across 8 states without fear, yet a black man gets shot after being pulled over for a broken taillight. Now a four year old might live in fear every time she is pulled over after witnessing a man get shot. We must train our law enforcement to balance force with reason. We must train them to better assess the danger or lack thereof in a situation. Based on this police officer’s expletive’s after having shot this man, it is clear he is not a bad man, but he did a bad thing. The same is true of so many people who get shot or are the shooters in police shootings. We cannot execute people in this way. We need non-violent interventions and we need to value human life above all else, including our irrational fears.

I do not want to say to my students that they should listen to authority figures in school or they’ll get arrested outside in the “real world”, but now I fear I might have to say they could be shot and killed for not abiding by a simple request of law enforcement. Why has it come to this? It has to stop.

And it starts with us, white people, recognizing privilege.  Here is one of my favorite depictions of privilege.  This article by the Washington Post describes white privilege "tends to be unintentional, unconscious, uncomfortable to recognize but easy to take for granted."  We need to start with recognizing our privileges and leveraging them for the greater good.  We can't be ashamed of what we have or who we are, unless we chose not to speak up and demand better.