Teachers can control what they bring into the classroom, but they can’t control what students bring. When children walk into a classroom, they bring the love of their families, memories of life outside the school, and their incredible potential for hope and kindness. They also bring their anxieties, fears, and words and phrases that dehumanize and oppress into the classroom.
“Your mom.”
When he whispered “your mom” into the boy next to him, both of them laughed to themselves. I had just commented how they need to stand up straight and keep their hands to themselves while they sing. I was initially puzzled because my comments were a nonsensical set-up for a “your mom” joke. However, I quickly remembered that as of 4th graders, and most likely when they heard a “your mom” joke, they probably didn’t understand it. However, they did know that they were was something funny to some people about this joke.
When I asked them directly, “why did you mention his mom?” they both looked at me like they had been caught doing something they knew they shouldn’t have done. I told them that jokes about people’s mothers are often degrading, sexist, and racist. Joking about others in a demeaning way has no place in the music classroom.
“Oh, I LOVE talking about Frozen.”
He was trying to figure out a way to get in the conversation. I was playing some music from Frozen 2, and a couple of students debated which Frozen film was better. Most of the class was engaged in this debate, but this one boy wasn’t until he yelled out.
He spoke in a high, sarcastic, mockingly feminine voice. I responded, "What did you say what you said in a high voice? To me, it sounded like you were trying to sound like a girl? Are you saying that only girls like talking about Frozen?”
In his eyes and the way he squirmed in his chair, I could tell that he wasn’t sure how to answer my question.
I explained how my sons like Frozen, and my brother and I have talked about these films and even mapped out a plot for the third film.
The boy was surprised to hear about the affirmation that boys do enjoy Frozen. He couldn’t explain to me why he had interrupted in that voice. I left our exchange stating, “be thoughtful about what it means when you use a feminine voice. What you did sound mocking, and I know you don’t want to make the girls in the room feel less than.”
“She looks SO Old.”
I was so excited to teach my students more about Sarah Bareilles. I clearly remember the first time I heard “She Used To Be Mine.” It was a wonderful moment of musical discovery, and I wanted so much for my students to have a similar moment.
This is why I was straight-up annoyed when one of the students yelled out, “look at her wrinkles!!! She’s so old!!” in a disgusted and mocking tone.
I put my hand up, and she stopped speaking, immediately knowing that she had done something wrong. I took a deep breath, and then we talked about ageism.
I asked her and the class to look around the classroom. They are were all different heights with different faces and they were all the same age. We talked about how you can’t judge people based on their skin color, and you shouldn’t judge people and place value on others based on how old they think you look.
Then I told them the harsh reality that women in society are judged far more harshly for having wrinkles and looking older than men are. The room was quiet. I was still annoyed that the moment of enjoying the wonder that is Sarah Bareilles had passed, but I felt satisfied knowing that we took the moment to talk about the intersection of sexism and ageism.
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