He had to go to the bathroom. So his teacher held his hand and walked him out of the gym.
He was seated along with the rest of our student body, junior kindergarteners through senior high school students. Along with more than nine hundred students along with the family of seniors sitting in the bleachers, the little boy had been listening to the principal speak along with the rest of the school community, when he realized that he had to go.
Sitting in the far corner of the gym along with the other junior kindergarteners, the teacher had to walk the boy through the aisle around the crowd between the students and the families in the bleachers. As the principal continued his speech, the boy walked through the crowd, one hand holding his teacher’s hand, and the other hand waving to be people as he walked.
Teachers standing around the edge of the crowd waved back as he smiled and waved to them. Then as he walked by students, they saw him and waved back too. Everyone who waved had to balance the need to be respectful to the principal as he spoke, and the need to make this little boy, one of the youngest people in our community, feel welcome, and seen. So, with quiet smiles and small waves, everyone the boy waved to responded with smiles and waves.
As he exited the gym, I refocused on the principal’s speech. A couple minutes later my attention was pulled away again from the principal, and I saw the teacher holding the little boy’s hand walking back into the gym.
As he walked, just like before, he waved and smiled, and the people in the crowd smiled back and waved back at him. There was something so magical in that boys smile. He was so full of hope, and optimism. It was the perfect manifestation of the spirit of community that the principal was describing in his speech.
Standing against the wall with the other teachers, I turned to teacher to me left, and we exchanged looks of joy, having just said hello to this boy again. I took a small step forward so I could continue to watch him as the boy exchange waves to the other teachers.
As the boy got to the end of the line of teachers, one of the teachers leaned off of the wall. The little boy looked up at him in awe like he was seeing Prince T’Challa in the flesh. The teacher reached out, and with smooth confidence and love gave the boy a high five. The boys smile got even bigger as he continued walking with his teacher and found his seat with the rest of the class.
The boy was shown love as he was greeted by all of these people in the gym who waved and smiled back to him. And boy saw something more, felt something deeper when that teacher reached out to him. He saw a Black man, proud and strong, reaching out to him, a Black boy. In that moment, the teacher expressed to that boy: “I see you, I got you, I’m there for you, and we got this.”
He had something in that moment that white children take for granted, a vision of themselves, what they could be in the adults in their school community. In that moment I thought about my first Asian teacher, the impact that she had on me. If it wasn’t for her work, I wouldn’t have fallen in love with writing, and may not have chosen to be teacher.
Maybe you had to be there to understand, but there was something special in that moment, something important. I'm not saying that you have to be the same race as as student to be an effective. But our students need to see people of their own race in a school community as a confirmation of their place, their role, and their importance in a school.
No comments:
Post a Comment