Year 13: Week 22 - Legacy

"What do you want to be your legacy?" 

I was stunned and speechless when my colleague asked me this question. I wasn't surprised that she could quiet me, but the question made me think about myself in a way I wasn't prepared.

At this school, I am rarely asked something that I don't have a quick response. My brain loves the conversations at my school and the challenges of discourse in my role as a teacher and a school leader. However, things are different when I'm with this colleague.

She is one of the few people at this school who can see through my armor and the facade I put up in different spaces and situations at this school. People ask me, "how are you?" Most of the time, I say, "I'm fine," and the exchange is over. But, when she asks me how I'm doing, regardless of my answer, she can see the truth, my complicated feelings, and the thoughts behind my eyes.

We were in her office working through some administrative issues, and she asked me about my legacy as we worked things out. I was unsure how to answer this question because no one had ever asked me to think about my legacy at this school. This is a question I hadn't asked myself.

I'm like the anti-Hamiton. Legacy is rarely on my mind. While I think about the future, I'm just not a person who thinks about what I leave behind or what people will think about me when I'm gone. I move into and through my work as an educator not focused on myself but focused on others. Over the years, I've learned how to allow myself to focus on my joy and interest in my work, which has been rewarding. However, I continue not to think about the long-lasting effects on my school and my world. I guess I see meaning in what I do now, and I don't look for what I may leave behind to bring meaning to my life.

What hit me when she asked me about my legacy is that whether I like it or not, I am creating a legacy in all my choices for others and myself. I should think about my legacy and control it. This can be and should be part of what I consider and think about because it can bring meaning and purpose to my actions.

After thinking about her question for a couple of days, I still don't have to know what I want my legacy to be. I do know some things: I want parts of my work to continue. 

I want people to think of me and smile, and I want the spirit of my work to be passed down. I want people not to need me. I say that because the people of my school who have meant the most to me as a teacher do not linger like ghosts. I feel their strength and inspiration more than their lack of presence. 

Most of all, I want people I have worked through to move with more strength because of what I did for them and feel motivated and inspired by what I did for them to do for others.

Year 11 – Week 29: Lift Every Voice...

I started each class by playing Beyoncé's epic performance of "Lift Every Voice and Sing" from Coachella in 2018. I asked my students as they watched to listen and see if they had heard this song before. 

 

With every class, I did this, out of 10% of my students raised their hands when I asked them who knew this song. This includes students in 4th, 5th, 6th and 8th grade.  

I teach in a school that is predominantly made up of students who are white. It wasn't a surprise that most of the students had not heard this song before, and I get it because I would have been one of those students.  

I first heard "Lift Every Voice and Sing," when I was in graduate school. My elementary music education professor taught us a sample unit on this song. She was illustrating how to teach a song while teaching the historical context and meaning of the song. She wanted to push us to go beyond teaching notes and rhythms when educating our students. I loved her ideas, and they have shaped teaching for my entire career as an educator. 

I've always wanted to teach about "Lift Every Voice and Sing" to my students, but I've unsure what it means for mostly white students to sing this song. Also, this song doesn't really fit into a middle school band curriculum with the level at which my students play. This year though, because of COVID-19 mitigations, we can't sing, and we can't play band instruments, so I figured to just go for it.  

After having the students be blown away by Beyoncé's epic performance, we listened to the NPR's episode on "Life Every Voice and Sing" as part of their American Anthem series.

I explained to my students that I could tell them the same information that this news story could, but it didn't feel right. I explained that this is a song created by two African-American brothers, which has had a profound effect on Black culture and Black history. As an Asian-American, I do not have an experience with this song in the same way that the people in this story do. I told them that we should hear directly from those within a community when studying music from that community whenever we can. Even if I gave the same information, it would feel different from the Black people featured in this radio story.  

Afterward, we analyzed the lyrics. We spent a lot of the time on the second verse thinking about what "Felt in the days when hope unborn had died" meant and thinking about what the "tears" and the "blood" in this verse are references to in American history. In contrast "The Star-Spangled Banner," which we had been studying, we talked about it meant to acknowledge the darkness in American history as opposed just to tell the story of American resilience. I was impressed with my students' work and their focus when working on these lyrics. 

We explored other version of this song include versions by Kirk Franklin, Ray Charles, and Kim Weston:  

 

My 8th graders thought deeply about this song. They wondered if white people singing "Lift Every Voice and Sing" was cultural appropriation. They wondered if we should have two official national anthems or no anthem at all, and they wondered if this was the "Black national anthem," then what was the "The Star-Spangled Banner"? The white one? I let them discuss these topics. I didn't give them an answer, and I told them that I was proud of them for asking these really important questions.  

My younger students overall really like this song after we were done with the lesson.  

At the end of class, one of the Black students reflected the Kirk Franklin's version reminded her of her church. The other students were intrigued.  She explained how people responded to the church leaders, and the music in the church sounded just Franklin's version. She spoke with pride, and it was clear that she loved the attention and interest the others students were giving her.

It was a wonderful moment that I'll never forget.

Year 11 – Week 26: One Year Later

One year ago, it was the last day of in-person school for the 2019-2020 school year for many schools across America. The unimaginable happened as society shut down and life changed for everyone.  

I've been thinking all week about the most meaningful memories of what I learned from the past year as a teacher. It's been difficult to process because we aren't done with the crisis and the trauma. To truly move on and process an experience, there has to be an ending.  

While we are making great process, we're not there yet. 

There have wonderful moments of teaching in the past year, both remotely and in-person, with COVID-19 mitigations. I have learned to embrace the wonder and adventure of feeling like I'm a first-year teacher, and I've learned over time to forgive myself for not being able to be the teacher that I want to be this school year.  

Things that were new and difficult now feel normal Wearing a mask for five hours doesn't phase me anymore. Managing students over Zoom feels like a normal thing to do.  

Walking through a school full of people with masks used to feel weird, now I'm just grateful for the all the human interaction I enjoy.  

­My students have struggled.  There are moments of resilience, but it's evident that this past year has been very difficult for young people. The idea that young people are somehow tougher than adults is absurd. I am so sad for what my students are going through, what they are missing, and how they will have to spend the rest of their lives affected by this pandemic. I'm hopeful they will learn from older generations' mistakes and lead with compassion, kindness, and equity.  

I've watch administrators absorb the anxiety of parents, students, and teachers. I've struggled along with them trying to schedule work and solve problems none of us foresaw. I've also seen administrators make mistakes, run out of patience, and feel frustrated and lost.  

After all, they are human. This year more than ever, they don't have all of the answers, and teachers and administrators need each other to get through school during a pandemic. 

There were dark moments.  There were times when it seemed like my work was pointless, and there were times when I felt lost, not knowing what my next step forward was. More than any other time in my professional career, I have felt frustrated and tired. Oh, so tired.  

After a year of teaching during this pandemic, I have not given on being a teacher. It has a blessing that has given me purpose and meaning.  

I don't love everything about teaching for the past year, but I still love my job. Among all of the chaos, trauma, and sadness, it has been my job to teach students about the beauty and wonder of music to better understand themselves and the world around them. 

I am so grateful that I have had and continue to have the opportunity to do this work for students, myself, and my country.

Year 11 – Week 25: The Crisis in Our Schools

What is going on in American schools is what has always been going on.  

We have schools that are open with in-person teaching that is going pretty well. Some schools are open in-person that's are not doing well, and some schools continue only to be remote.  

Some school administrators and school officials are great. They make teachers feel safe and supported, while educational leaders are doing a great disservice to teachers and making them feel unsafe and exploited.  

There are teacher union chapters supporting cooperative partners and helping make teachers safe while serving the students' needs. There are teacher union locals that are being unreasonable obstructionists. Then there are school boards. Like other local officials, some school board members are in their positions to serve the students and the community, and others are more in for the power.  

None of this should be a surprise. The differences in schools offering in-person learning and only remote learning are as stark as the educational difference between school pre-pandemic. Teachers' experience in America varies so widely from a teacher who has to work multiple jobs to pay rent for an apartment in the city they work to teachers who live comfortably on their salary. Teachers' unions in America have done far better than bad. The structure of union leadership from the national down to the local pretty much ensures variation in the quality of organizing and leadership. The school boards are showing their effectiveness, and it's becoming revealing the nature of the members who claim to serve in this position.  

For so many people, decisions around school didn't seem to have dire, life-altering consequences before the pandemic. "So, there are bad administrators. Okay, that sucks. I'm going to go back to work," has become "there are bad administrators, children are doing remote learning, and my employees' productivity has dropped because they have to support their children's learning." 

Less involved parents could ignore a bad school board making racist choices about curriculum, but they can't ignore the fact that an ineffective school board keeps their child from in-person learning. Teachers, previously fine to let others do the heavy lifting of union leadership, are realizing that maybe if they showed up to meetings and voted more carefully in previous years, they would be in a better situation.  

The inequity in schools in America has always had dire, life-altering consequences far before the pandemic. This will continue if we forget the issues that have led to this unprecedented educational crisis in America.  

While many people in education have done courageous, remarkable, and incredible work for students in America during this pandemic, we as a society, a county, and citizens have failed the children of America.

This crisis is our past and our present, but it doesn't have to be our future. If we remember as forward, hold people accountable for their disservice, and elevate those who never gave up fighting for children, we can build back better.