It's Okay to Sound like a Fool: just learn from it!

I sound like a fool a lot; make no mistake about that.  I say things that, in my head, seem to make perfect sense to me, but upon vocalizing them and/or seeing others' responses to my statements, I quickly realize the ignorance in my words.  Don't get me wrong, I don't want to nor do I try to sound like a fool.  I am not intentionally trying to offend anyone, but the reality to my, and everyone's, life is that we do not--no CANNOT--know everything.  But we can learn from one another and those who do know things we don't. You see, for that very reason, I often times seek out situations and conversations in which I KNOW I will sound like a fool not because I want to sound like a fool but because I want to learn from those who don't sound like fools on that given topic.

Whether most teachers realize it or not, they probably agree with the overall sentiment of that first paragraph.  They are generally willing to take a risk and enter into conversations about an instructional strategy they have never tried, a text they have never read, or a policy about which they don't know anything simply as a means of learning.  The general idea being that through talking, listening, and getting feedback on their own underdeveloped thoughts, they can and will grow in an area in which they don't currently know much.  So, why does this strategy of using conversations to grow our understandings tend to stop when the topic of race comes up?  Schools, as a whole, tend to avoid these conversations for the fear of a teacher saying something "wrong" or sounding "foolish"; however, with almost all other topics, this same strategy is at the center of how we grow.

While I am FAR from an expert on race, I do know one thing: I love having conversations about it (even if it means that I unintentionally say something stupid or perhaps offend someone) because I know that through talking about race I can learn about race.  Through reading about race (I am currently reading and loving Why are all the Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria? by Beverly Tatum), I can learn things about myself and others that I didn't even know I needed to learn.

However, none of this can happen by avoiding the conversations on race--by refusing to explore my own prejudices and others' reactions to those prejudices.  I am proud to admit that I have been in conversations about race and said things that were so narrow-minded that others were offended; however, because they knew that my narrow mindedness was coming from a place of ignorance and not hatred, they were able to coach me through my thoughts and help me making meaning of situations in society I otherwise couldn't understand.  I have asked questions about race and about being black that made me sound like a complete fool, but as a result and because I was coming from a place of ignorance, I grew to more deeply understand race and racism than I ever could by simply thinking I am colorblind and life is great or ignoring it all together.

So, I challenge you (as I continually challenge myself) to seek out difficult and uncomfortable conversations on race, participate openly and honestly (even if you say something "stupid"), embrace your ignorance as a means of growth, and listen critically to what others are saying.  I promise you, the personal growth will be well worth it.

When the Student Becomes the Teacher...

As teachers, we often talk about how we hope to learn from our students.  If you are anything like me, you start your year by telling students how excited you are to have them in your class, and that you know, without a doubt, as the year goes on they will teach you as much or more than you could ever teach them.  And it's true; I have no doubts that any teacher who says this means it--after all, for most of us, this is why we got into education: to continue learning.  That said, with all of "the something" going around in education today ( a few colleagues and I recently defined "the something" as being all those things thrown at teachers on a regular basis: CCSS, teacher evaluation, budget cuts, curriculum changes, etc.), often times learning from our students gets blurred away by the bureaucracy.

Enter Mary Fleming.  She came to my class like so many other freshmen; shy yet inquisitive; intelligent but nervous; passionate while pensive.  As the year went on, she found many ways to quietly stand out.  She played on the freshman volleyball team, came in for extra help on papers, and was a quiet leader in the classroom.  In short, she did her best to excel while passively working not to stand out, like so many freshmen do.  Now, let me introduce you to the Mary Fleming that North High School has known since March 12th:

Mary decided to take a risk. She shaved her head for the St. Baldrick's Fundraiser, raising over $1,300 for child cancer research.  She didn't do this because she wanted to stand out; she did this because she wanted to help--to do something to care for those less fortunate than she.  

Several days have now passed since Mary's selfless act of courage, and two things have come to light:

1.  She now knows what it means to "stand out", to be different from others.  This, more than anything else, is a lesson that she will carry with her for the rest of her life.  Sure, there are those who know why her hair is gone, but there are also many who don't.  Those people stare with unstated questions and unfair judgments.  Why? Because they don't know how to deal with something that is "different", those things that don't conform to their idea of "normal."  To those people I say stare away.  Because they are right, they are not looking at someone that is "normal", they are looking at someone who is exceptional--someone who inspires.  Someone who cares more about helping others than fitting into what society dictates is "normal."  To that I say, Mary, I am so proud of you for being okay with being exceptional...who needs "normal" anyway.

2.  Mary is the definition of courage. I think back to my time in high school, and sadly, I will admit that I didn't even attend the homecoming football game as a freshman because of rumors that the freshmen get picked on/beat up. And here is a freshman girl who is willing to endure awkward glances, quiet laughter, and judgmental stares because she is that committed to helping others.  At a time when reputation, image, and self-worth are beyond paramount to high school happiness, Mary was able to realize that her self-worth comes not from what others think of her but rather from what she can do for others.  Her courage manifested itself in action, action that might go to help save someone's life.  For that, Mary, all I can do is thank you.  Thank you for teaching me the true meaning of courage, and I only hope that through telling your story in this blog others are as inspired by your actions as well.  

You see, I am one of those teachers who starts every year by saying, "I hope to learn as much from you as you do from me...maybe more", and I do believe that this happens on a daily basis; however, this year it became something more.  It became a life lesson in the power of giving back, of helping others because you can and want to, and of the true meaning of courage. So I leave you with this: have the courage to be yourself; have the courage to give back; have the courage to be different; and have the courage to inspire others.  Mary did, and that is how my student became the teacher!  Thank you, Mary; thank you for your inspiration, and thank you for teaching me about courage.