One of the greatest gifts you can have in life is having someone who believes in you more than you believe in yourself. When someone tells you that they see potential in you, it can change your life.
Two of these special people helped me along into diversity work.
Initially, I didn’t see myself as a leader in diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) in my school. The election of 2016 pushed me into high gear, and I knew I had so much to learn. More than ever I was all-in, as I made DEI a central part of every choice I made as a teacher. However, I didn’t myself as a DEI leader.
The other issue is that I had full plate. I had a young child at home, the job of music department chair took a lot of my time, and I also had a full teaching load. At my school being a department chair doesn’t mean you have less classes to teach. I was doing enough for my school. I had my moments that I wished all I had to worry about at school was teaching. At the same time, I enjoyed being in leadership and having the power to really help other people.
My middle school head understood all of this, which is why he was very gentle in suggested that I think about being the DEI Chair. He wondered, if because I had done a great job as music department chair in the past couple years if some of that work could be shared with others in my department and I could focus on being a leader in a different way. I was surprised when he brought this up to me. Even though I knew that he had seen a lot of the curricular work around DEI, I didn’t realize that he saw greater potential in me to serve the community in another role. I told him I’d think about it.
I found out that I would be a DEI co-chair with another teacher that I respected greatly. The idea of collaborating with him got me really excited. I don’t remember exactly how Diana reacted when I brought this idea up to her. Knowing her and how incredibly supportive she has been of me, likely she thought it was a good idea as well, but she probably worried about the time commitment.
One thing I realized is that part of doing this job was getting acknowledgment for work that I was already doing. So yes, it was more work, but it wasn’t all new. It was moving along a journey I was already on, not a turn in another direction.
I applied for this position, which consisted of writing an essay, and this led an interview with the assistant principal. She had the biggest smile when I walked into her office. As I talked about DEI, she kept saying “yes,” and nodding her head. She got more and more excited the more I talked. After not too long, she said that she knew that I would be wonderful in this position and she was so excited to have me as a DEI Co-Chair.
Every time we met from then on, she would tell me how great she thought I was doing. In those words I heard, “prove me right, because I know I’m not wrong.” Her belief in me and the encouragement of the middle school head motivated me to dive deeper, do more, and keep in the work.
As much as they believed in me, that wasn’t enough. I had a lot to learn, and fortunate for me, I got to know the broader DEI community, and that opened up my eyes to seeing the world and myself in a whole different way.
Try to be that person that sees something in someone that they don't see in themselves. It's the most motivating thing in my professional life, and I am forever grateful to those who took the time to tell me that they believed in me.
Friday, July 17, 2020
Monday, July 13, 2020
Parenthood: Week 379 – The Gift of Freedom
It’s really hard to know what is right thing do as parents during this pandemic. We have very clear directives from our local and state government, but the federal government has done little to nothing to help. Hiding being a philosophy of “states’ rights” they have abdicated responsibility, and left the states scrambling.
Illinois’ governor closed schools, and then the mayor closed parks. Mask requirements went into play on the city level, and non-essential business were closed. Social distancing became a norm through clear guidance. At this time early in the pandemic, it seemed pretty clear. We had to keep our children home, and away from other people.
As things opened up thing started to become unclear. Restaurants and bars were opened before parks and playground were. Non-essential business opened before daycares. As adults seemed to start congregating, and having their lives return to “normal” it become unclear if our children’s lives could return to “normal.”
One of the interesting things about children is how quickly they create a new sense of “normal.” Even only after a couple weeks home from school, Ollie talked about school like it was a distant memory. Ethan talked about his class, and wanting to visit but he easily feel into a different routine of being home. Both Ollie and Ethan have given us little to no resistance when we ask them to wear masks.
All of this has made things like "front yard, social distanced drive-by birthday parties" a lot easier to handle. I’m really proud of how Ollie and Ethan have adapted to this new norm, wearing masks and making sure to have space around their bodies when they are around other people. You could say that is so sad that children can’t experience the physical freedom on unmasked close contact play. At times I agree with this sentiment, but there are other things, lesson that far too many failed to learn we can teach our children during this crisis.
There have always been people who aren’t into hugs and kisses, who feel safe with distance around them. There have always been people who have compromised immune systems who need people to wears masks around them. There have always the need for people to wash hands, and stay home when they are sick, to benefit themselves and other people. Children will be more sensitive to these issues as they now know how to respond to these needs.
We told our sons the truth. We wear masks because we care about other people and we don’t want them to get sick. This expression of care for others by putting in extra effort at its core is the same consideration we give when we think more carefully about the language we use when speaking about facets of other people’s identity.
We are not giving up freedom by putting on masks or thinking a couple extra seconds to make sure we are using pronouns that an individual prefers. With extra effort we are showing love, and consideration and making people feel more safe. With a feeling of safety comes freedom. This is not about sacrificing our freedoms, it’s about ensuring freedom for others.
We can teach our children this lesson, and help re-conceptualize that love is more than about hugs, and we can be better for each other.
Illinois’ governor closed schools, and then the mayor closed parks. Mask requirements went into play on the city level, and non-essential business were closed. Social distancing became a norm through clear guidance. At this time early in the pandemic, it seemed pretty clear. We had to keep our children home, and away from other people.
As things opened up thing started to become unclear. Restaurants and bars were opened before parks and playground were. Non-essential business opened before daycares. As adults seemed to start congregating, and having their lives return to “normal” it become unclear if our children’s lives could return to “normal.”
One of the interesting things about children is how quickly they create a new sense of “normal.” Even only after a couple weeks home from school, Ollie talked about school like it was a distant memory. Ethan talked about his class, and wanting to visit but he easily feel into a different routine of being home. Both Ollie and Ethan have given us little to no resistance when we ask them to wear masks.
All of this has made things like "front yard, social distanced drive-by birthday parties" a lot easier to handle. I’m really proud of how Ollie and Ethan have adapted to this new norm, wearing masks and making sure to have space around their bodies when they are around other people. You could say that is so sad that children can’t experience the physical freedom on unmasked close contact play. At times I agree with this sentiment, but there are other things, lesson that far too many failed to learn we can teach our children during this crisis.
There have always been people who aren’t into hugs and kisses, who feel safe with distance around them. There have always been people who have compromised immune systems who need people to wears masks around them. There have always the need for people to wash hands, and stay home when they are sick, to benefit themselves and other people. Children will be more sensitive to these issues as they now know how to respond to these needs.
We told our sons the truth. We wear masks because we care about other people and we don’t want them to get sick. This expression of care for others by putting in extra effort at its core is the same consideration we give when we think more carefully about the language we use when speaking about facets of other people’s identity.
We are not giving up freedom by putting on masks or thinking a couple extra seconds to make sure we are using pronouns that an individual prefers. With extra effort we are showing love, and consideration and making people feel more safe. With a feeling of safety comes freedom. This is not about sacrificing our freedoms, it’s about ensuring freedom for others.
We can teach our children this lesson, and help re-conceptualize that love is more than about hugs, and we can be better for each other.
Friday, July 10, 2020
How I Came To The Work – Part 5: The Election
As the years passed, I slowly started getting more and more into diversity, equity, and inclusion work. I started doing more lessons and units that were directly focused on teaching about systems of oppression and social justice.
I kept a running list of ideas of projects and songs that I wanted to teach and figured I’d find time later to do. I knew that there was work to be done, but I didn’t feel a sense of urgency.
Because there was no way in my mind that Trump would win the election.
Hope combined with naivety and ignorance led me to believe that Trump would lose the presidential election. This is America. We don’t hire people who are openly racist, sexist, and misogynistic. People get fired for saying and doing the horrible things that Trump did during the election. No way Americans would vote for him. Well, even though he lost the popular vote enough Americans in the right districts, who were not hindered by voter suppression, voted for Trump and he did win.
In the days following the election, it started to all sink in. The expressed values of our country in popular mainstream culture were not shared by many people in the country. Even though a board might fire an executive for allegations of sexual misconduct, that doesn’t mean that ever person on the board actually thought that this person was worth losing over this issue, they were just making this move because they didn’t want to be held accountable for their chooses to the public. With voting being anonymous, and people felt free to vote for a morally reprehensible and incompetent candidate, and they did.
Along with these revelations other things started to come together in my brain. I started to see in our present issues I had learned about in our history. I started wondering about the pervasiveness of oppression of minority groups and stopped assuming that they were anomalies.
We had just elected a person who represented the worst of America. It was clear with his openly salvo of oppression, his Muslim ban that he was going to make America worse and make every effort to beat back the progress in our country. What was I waiting for?
In the days after the election, I sketched out plans for a presentation inspired by President Obama that had been on my mind for years. I took a question from a 5th grader about gender and developed it into a Women In Music unit and presentation. And I was determined that the curriculum that I would teach would no longer be dominated by white cis-gendered male composers and musicians.
I was, angry, and I felt let down by America, but doing this work, helped me feel productive, proud, and part of the solution. I was doing something, one lesson at a time, one student at a time, I was making a difference.
When I saw the email announcing that my school was adding Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion Chairs as a position in my school, I didn’t really think it was for me. As I got deeper into the work, transforming my focus, and doing everything I could to make the future America one would reject Trump, I began to wonder.
I kept a running list of ideas of projects and songs that I wanted to teach and figured I’d find time later to do. I knew that there was work to be done, but I didn’t feel a sense of urgency.
Because there was no way in my mind that Trump would win the election.
Hope combined with naivety and ignorance led me to believe that Trump would lose the presidential election. This is America. We don’t hire people who are openly racist, sexist, and misogynistic. People get fired for saying and doing the horrible things that Trump did during the election. No way Americans would vote for him. Well, even though he lost the popular vote enough Americans in the right districts, who were not hindered by voter suppression, voted for Trump and he did win.
In the days following the election, it started to all sink in. The expressed values of our country in popular mainstream culture were not shared by many people in the country. Even though a board might fire an executive for allegations of sexual misconduct, that doesn’t mean that ever person on the board actually thought that this person was worth losing over this issue, they were just making this move because they didn’t want to be held accountable for their chooses to the public. With voting being anonymous, and people felt free to vote for a morally reprehensible and incompetent candidate, and they did.
Along with these revelations other things started to come together in my brain. I started to see in our present issues I had learned about in our history. I started wondering about the pervasiveness of oppression of minority groups and stopped assuming that they were anomalies.
We had just elected a person who represented the worst of America. It was clear with his openly salvo of oppression, his Muslim ban that he was going to make America worse and make every effort to beat back the progress in our country. What was I waiting for?
In the days after the election, I sketched out plans for a presentation inspired by President Obama that had been on my mind for years. I took a question from a 5th grader about gender and developed it into a Women In Music unit and presentation. And I was determined that the curriculum that I would teach would no longer be dominated by white cis-gendered male composers and musicians.
I was, angry, and I felt let down by America, but doing this work, helped me feel productive, proud, and part of the solution. I was doing something, one lesson at a time, one student at a time, I was making a difference.
When I saw the email announcing that my school was adding Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion Chairs as a position in my school, I didn’t really think it was for me. As I got deeper into the work, transforming my focus, and doing everything I could to make the future America one would reject Trump, I began to wonder.
Monday, July 6, 2020
Parenthood: Week 378 - Hamilton & Me
Last week, I posted this message on my Facebook wall in reference to a new video of Phillipa Soo performing “Helpless” with the cast of Hamilton on The Tonight Show:
Hamilton for the past five years, has helped me understand my life, my ambition, my fears, and the fact that my true legacy is my children. This show reminded me that being proud and emotional about my children is important, and that there is so much more inside me now that I am a father. It gave a way, and a space to imagine the unimaginable which taught me to better understand the nature of tragedy and that every single day with my children truly is a gift.
When I watch Hamilton I see a future for my children.There are so many wonderful memories of my life in the past five years that include Hamilton. Ollie singing “My Shot,” in the car while holding a Maui toy, the indescribable joy with my mom, when Jin Ha, an Asian-American, walked out on stage as Aaron Burr, and waking up with Ethan in my arms after a long sleepless night to “Dear Theodosia,” playing on my phone as an alarm clock, and looking down at my sleeping boy, and feeling like the luckiest. And of course taking Ollie to see Hamilton this past fall and watching his reactions was one of the greatest joys in my life. Ethan now is requesting Hamilton as Ollie did when he was younger, and it's cute beyond words.
My children's racial identity is something I am continuing to process. There's more that I don't know, than I am certain of when I think about how this facet of their identity will effect their future.
When I see Phillipa Soo perform, I see a someone who shares a biracial identity with my children. Despite the challenges that this part of her identity has brought into her life, she is an incredible singer, and an amazing artist.
There was a way for her, which proves that there IS a way for my children. This is why this video made me cry.
Then towards the end Alex Lacamoire, the music director for Hamilton appears with a melodica, and it hits me again.
Lacamoire was diagnosed with hearing loss in both ears at a young age and he continues to use hearing aids in his daily life. Just like my son Ethan, his hearing disability is part of his identity. Lacamoire is a reminder that Ethan's disability doesn't have to limit his dreams, and that he can continue to bring beauty into the world.
Loving Hamilton is embracing the value of diversity and inclusion, and expressing that my children have a place in this world. I hope you enjoy the show.
Hamilton for the past five years, has helped me understand my life, my ambition, my fears, and the fact that my true legacy is my children. This show reminded me that being proud and emotional about my children is important, and that there is so much more inside me now that I am a father. It gave a way, and a space to imagine the unimaginable which taught me to better understand the nature of tragedy and that every single day with my children truly is a gift.
Friday, July 3, 2020
How I Came To The Work - Part 4: The Slow Build
I remember an internal feeling of a groan when the word “diversity” came up again in a faculty meeting. We had these discussions about diversity at my school, and while they were interesting but they didn’t feel at all central to our work. If what we do at a school is a Christmas Tree, “diversity work" when I first came to this school felt like an ornament that we hung on the tree, sitting on a branch, making the school look prettier, but not central to our work.
I would hear teachers complain that these discussion around diversity were the same every time, or that nothing came of these talks. Other complaints included people not wanting to just talk about race, “what about other diversity issues, why do we always have to talk about race?” There was a just a general feeling that this wasn’t all of our work, and often I shared these thoughts in my first couple years here.
I almost shuddered as I wrote these past two paragraphs, because the feelings that I describe there, are really not congruent with how I feel right now. I’m slightly embarrassed about how I used to feel, but I’m trying not to be, because this is all part of my journey. As I help other’s through their own journey, it’s important to remember where I started.
Slowly, all of these discussions, and talks started chipping away at this wall I had created. I made sure to have diversity of repertoire in classroom, and I thought I had this down, so I closed myself off to doing more of the work. My approach was to have composers with different racial backgrounds to reflect our society, but I didn’t talk about what was behind their lack of inclusion in other music classrooms. I expanded my students’ world of music, but I didn’t make them question how people through music, perpetuated a dominant narrative, and exclude marginalized voices.
I got ideas and I tried different things related to diversity in music, and with the persistence of the assistant principal and other teachers, I started getting more excited about learning more and doing more related to diversity in education. There was no specific moment that changed my thinking about diversity in education, but there’s a couple of experiences that come to mind that moved me along.
My school ran a faculty and staff of color luncheon a couple times a year. When I first saw the email, I didn’t go because I didn’t see myself as a person of color. However, when the invite for the second meeting came around, a colleague who was Asian-American like myself encouraged me to go, and what I found was amazing. Faculty and staff of color were hanging out, sharing a meal, and welcoming me, some literally with open arms. There was a wonderful sense of community I felt in that room, which gave me a glimpse of the incredible and loving diversity practitioners I would meet in the coming years.
Moments of racism I encountered at my school from faculty, parents and students made me realize that my racial identity shaped the way people in my community saw me and treated me. The administration supported me in all of these instances, but they remained harsh reminders if this was happening to me, it was happening to my students. Something had to be done, and maybe that something could be done by me.
The main thing that moved me along in this process was my students. A student asked me why the fact that a popular musician was a women kept coming up in other students’ observation. This pushed me to dive deeper into gender inequity in music. It was my Black students’ enthusiasm around songs that by Black artist that we studied that opened up my eyes to what it meant for students to have mirror in education. Then there were the questions from my students that showed that they were thinking about systems of oppression and social justice in society. They wanted to know more, and I feel didn't equipped to help them in their wonders, and for some of them, their pain.
Then two things happened in my personal life that pushed my progression in diversity work along. The birth of my first son, and the 2016 election...
I would hear teachers complain that these discussion around diversity were the same every time, or that nothing came of these talks. Other complaints included people not wanting to just talk about race, “what about other diversity issues, why do we always have to talk about race?” There was a just a general feeling that this wasn’t all of our work, and often I shared these thoughts in my first couple years here.
I almost shuddered as I wrote these past two paragraphs, because the feelings that I describe there, are really not congruent with how I feel right now. I’m slightly embarrassed about how I used to feel, but I’m trying not to be, because this is all part of my journey. As I help other’s through their own journey, it’s important to remember where I started.
Slowly, all of these discussions, and talks started chipping away at this wall I had created. I made sure to have diversity of repertoire in classroom, and I thought I had this down, so I closed myself off to doing more of the work. My approach was to have composers with different racial backgrounds to reflect our society, but I didn’t talk about what was behind their lack of inclusion in other music classrooms. I expanded my students’ world of music, but I didn’t make them question how people through music, perpetuated a dominant narrative, and exclude marginalized voices.
I got ideas and I tried different things related to diversity in music, and with the persistence of the assistant principal and other teachers, I started getting more excited about learning more and doing more related to diversity in education. There was no specific moment that changed my thinking about diversity in education, but there’s a couple of experiences that come to mind that moved me along.
My school ran a faculty and staff of color luncheon a couple times a year. When I first saw the email, I didn’t go because I didn’t see myself as a person of color. However, when the invite for the second meeting came around, a colleague who was Asian-American like myself encouraged me to go, and what I found was amazing. Faculty and staff of color were hanging out, sharing a meal, and welcoming me, some literally with open arms. There was a wonderful sense of community I felt in that room, which gave me a glimpse of the incredible and loving diversity practitioners I would meet in the coming years.
Moments of racism I encountered at my school from faculty, parents and students made me realize that my racial identity shaped the way people in my community saw me and treated me. The administration supported me in all of these instances, but they remained harsh reminders if this was happening to me, it was happening to my students. Something had to be done, and maybe that something could be done by me.
The main thing that moved me along in this process was my students. A student asked me why the fact that a popular musician was a women kept coming up in other students’ observation. This pushed me to dive deeper into gender inequity in music. It was my Black students’ enthusiasm around songs that by Black artist that we studied that opened up my eyes to what it meant for students to have mirror in education. Then there were the questions from my students that showed that they were thinking about systems of oppression and social justice in society. They wanted to know more, and I feel didn't equipped to help them in their wonders, and for some of them, their pain.
Then two things happened in my personal life that pushed my progression in diversity work along. The birth of my first son, and the 2016 election...
Monday, June 29, 2020
Parenthood: Week 377 - Hair & Voices
Lucas has amazing hair.
All my boys have wonderful hair. Ollie had a full head when he was born, which did thin out, but came back evenly after a couple months. As his hair got longer little curls came up on the side of his head around his ears. Ethan had less hair than Ollie when he was born and as it came it, in didn’t curl like Ollie’s. On the top of Ethan’s head, the hair grew long, so for a couple he had this little spike on the top of his head, which was super cute.
Lucas has different hair but amazing in its own way. He has these long curls on the sides of his head and on the top of his head, and very thin hair in other areas. If I work on it, I can get the curls on the side of his head to comb over almost all the way over the top of his head to the other side. Especially after his bath, his hair forms into soft ringlets. It’s absolutely adorable, wonderful, and unique.
All of my sons have lighter hair than mine. My hair is technically dark brown, but it appears black. Diana has brown hair, and all of my sons’ hair is a wonderful mix of our hair colors. Ollie noticed one time that his hair looks a slightly different color in the sunlight. The lighter tones of his hair come out and there’s almost an auburn color that appears. Ollie calls the way his hair changes in the sunlight one of his superpowers.
Ollie says that his brothers and Buffy all have superpowers. Ethan’s super power according to Ollie is that he is loud. Now I’ve talked about how Ethan is loud before, but what I missed in these descriptions is the incredible range of his voice.
Ethan has a whiny tone in his voice when he is being demanding, but he also has the softest and sweetest tone he’s asking for help. He has loud cries of frustration and anger, but he also has exuberant joyful screams of joy that feel like they overload the room with energy like Boo’s laughs in Monster Inc. Ethan has wonderful quiet moments when he talks to himself while playing. It’s almost a whisper, as he verbalizes his thoughts, and explores the world around him.
Ollie has a similar range in his voice. What’s unique about Ollie is that the sound effects that he makes. From a young age he would make sound effects when he played with his toys. Sometimes they make sense as he pretend a volcano is exploding, but often I can’t figure out what sounds he is emulating. I love feeling his energy through these sounds and watching his imagination at play.
Lucas makes these indescribably cute chirps, sighs, and squeals. His laugh is more of a little yell of joy and a chuckle, than a true “haha.” His cries for attention are getting louder as he is getting stronger, and he seems to be exploring new sounds all of the time. Lucas lacks the words, but he doesn’t lack the expression. Lucas is a wonderful reminder that sometimes words aren't necessary to show someone that you love them.
All my boys have wonderful hair. Ollie had a full head when he was born, which did thin out, but came back evenly after a couple months. As his hair got longer little curls came up on the side of his head around his ears. Ethan had less hair than Ollie when he was born and as it came it, in didn’t curl like Ollie’s. On the top of Ethan’s head, the hair grew long, so for a couple he had this little spike on the top of his head, which was super cute.
Lucas has different hair but amazing in its own way. He has these long curls on the sides of his head and on the top of his head, and very thin hair in other areas. If I work on it, I can get the curls on the side of his head to comb over almost all the way over the top of his head to the other side. Especially after his bath, his hair forms into soft ringlets. It’s absolutely adorable, wonderful, and unique.
All of my sons have lighter hair than mine. My hair is technically dark brown, but it appears black. Diana has brown hair, and all of my sons’ hair is a wonderful mix of our hair colors. Ollie noticed one time that his hair looks a slightly different color in the sunlight. The lighter tones of his hair come out and there’s almost an auburn color that appears. Ollie calls the way his hair changes in the sunlight one of his superpowers.
****
Ollie says that his brothers and Buffy all have superpowers. Ethan’s super power according to Ollie is that he is loud. Now I’ve talked about how Ethan is loud before, but what I missed in these descriptions is the incredible range of his voice.
Ethan has a whiny tone in his voice when he is being demanding, but he also has the softest and sweetest tone he’s asking for help. He has loud cries of frustration and anger, but he also has exuberant joyful screams of joy that feel like they overload the room with energy like Boo’s laughs in Monster Inc. Ethan has wonderful quiet moments when he talks to himself while playing. It’s almost a whisper, as he verbalizes his thoughts, and explores the world around him.
Ollie has a similar range in his voice. What’s unique about Ollie is that the sound effects that he makes. From a young age he would make sound effects when he played with his toys. Sometimes they make sense as he pretend a volcano is exploding, but often I can’t figure out what sounds he is emulating. I love feeling his energy through these sounds and watching his imagination at play.
Lucas makes these indescribably cute chirps, sighs, and squeals. His laugh is more of a little yell of joy and a chuckle, than a true “haha.” His cries for attention are getting louder as he is getting stronger, and he seems to be exploring new sounds all of the time. Lucas lacks the words, but he doesn’t lack the expression. Lucas is a wonderful reminder that sometimes words aren't necessary to show someone that you love them.
Friday, June 26, 2020
How I Came To The Work - Part 3: Awakening
I don’t remember thinking a lot about racism or sexism in my first teaching job. It was a high school band teacher position, and most high school band teachers are White men. I was aware of this but I didn’t see this as a sign of oppression. It just seemed like the result of individual choice.
There wasn’t any conversations during department meetings or faculty meetings about diversity. The other band teachers stuck pretty closely to the canon of school band music which was predominately composed and arranged by White men. Even the “multi-cultural” music was composed by White men. All these lists of “essential” music and state lists of songs were mostly if not all filled with White male composers. I knew this at the time but it didn’t really bug me.
I felt like an outsider when we’d have these meeting with band teachers at other schools. There was no other people of color, everyone was taller than me, and it was hard for me to socialize and make friends with other people. At the time I thought it had to do with the fact this was a hard job that was overwhelming, but in retrospect there was probably other stuff related to my racial identity that effected my experience.
My second teaching job, I was a special education assistant, and I started seeing teaching differently. Instead of focusing on what I was teaching, I was focusing on how to teach. The majority of student I was teaching were students of color, unlike my previous job where most of my students were White.
I had all of these new experiences at this job that broadened my sense of humanity. One of my favorite students was this wonderful 3rd grade girl. During a classroom party her mother came and the 3rd grader really wanted me to meet her. When I started talking to her mom, the girl started translating for her mom, and I quickly realized that her mom didn’t speak English.
I shared a teaching space with students who had a wide variety of special needs including students who non-verbal. I felt discomfort being around students who were autistic, and I learned over time to see that as just one facet of their identity. The modeling of other teachers and the way that they treated them with dignity made me ashamed about my bias and gave me a new way see the humanity in different people.
The experience that impacted me the most was this little Asian boy who I taught. He had some language processing issues, which is why he got special ed services. And I taught him how to read.
I taught him how to read.
That’s an amazing thing for me to think about. Reading is such an important gateway to the world, and I was the one who empowered him with these skills. I don’t know if he felt a unique connection with me because we were both Asian, but I know that I felt special connections, and a higher level of commitment to him, because I saw a part of myself in him.
I didn’t take this job looking for my eyes to be opened to the diversity of the world, but it came to me in ways I never expected. I had all of these experiences with people who different than me, and I found connections looking at these differences full on, because I couldn’t ignore them. And with one special boy, I saw myself, and something more in education. So when there was an opening at school that put diversity as a central part of their mission, I was intrigued, and I applied...
There wasn’t any conversations during department meetings or faculty meetings about diversity. The other band teachers stuck pretty closely to the canon of school band music which was predominately composed and arranged by White men. Even the “multi-cultural” music was composed by White men. All these lists of “essential” music and state lists of songs were mostly if not all filled with White male composers. I knew this at the time but it didn’t really bug me.
I felt like an outsider when we’d have these meeting with band teachers at other schools. There was no other people of color, everyone was taller than me, and it was hard for me to socialize and make friends with other people. At the time I thought it had to do with the fact this was a hard job that was overwhelming, but in retrospect there was probably other stuff related to my racial identity that effected my experience.
My second teaching job, I was a special education assistant, and I started seeing teaching differently. Instead of focusing on what I was teaching, I was focusing on how to teach. The majority of student I was teaching were students of color, unlike my previous job where most of my students were White.
I had all of these new experiences at this job that broadened my sense of humanity. One of my favorite students was this wonderful 3rd grade girl. During a classroom party her mother came and the 3rd grader really wanted me to meet her. When I started talking to her mom, the girl started translating for her mom, and I quickly realized that her mom didn’t speak English.
I shared a teaching space with students who had a wide variety of special needs including students who non-verbal. I felt discomfort being around students who were autistic, and I learned over time to see that as just one facet of their identity. The modeling of other teachers and the way that they treated them with dignity made me ashamed about my bias and gave me a new way see the humanity in different people.
The experience that impacted me the most was this little Asian boy who I taught. He had some language processing issues, which is why he got special ed services. And I taught him how to read.
I taught him how to read.
That’s an amazing thing for me to think about. Reading is such an important gateway to the world, and I was the one who empowered him with these skills. I don’t know if he felt a unique connection with me because we were both Asian, but I know that I felt special connections, and a higher level of commitment to him, because I saw a part of myself in him.
I didn’t take this job looking for my eyes to be opened to the diversity of the world, but it came to me in ways I never expected. I had all of these experiences with people who different than me, and I found connections looking at these differences full on, because I couldn’t ignore them. And with one special boy, I saw myself, and something more in education. So when there was an opening at school that put diversity as a central part of their mission, I was intrigued, and I applied...
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