How I Came To The Work – Part 7: The Gatherings

I love going to diversity conferences, institutes, seminars, symposiums, and summit. There are a lot of different names for these gatherings. I’m talking about events where people who are interesting in doing work around diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) come together to learn, and share. Sometimes these events include hundreds of people and sometimes under fifty people. I’ve been to ones that were just for people of color, and other ones that included people who identified as white.

The make-up of the attendees depends on the goals of the event and the mission of the organization behind the events. I’ve been to gatherings that included only leaders in diversity work, and other ones that were just for teachers. I went to a seminar last summer that included people outside of education, which where I met two incredible people who worked for Planned Parenthood.

Some of these events have happened at schools, hotel ballrooms, and I recently did an institute online.

What do I love about these events?

What I learn
These are the spaces that I have the learned the most about issues around DEI. More than books, documentaries, articles, and podcast, it’s these spaces that have taught me about the true nature of America. It is these spaces that I have learned about privilege, the myth of meritocracy, white supremacy, how to see racism in every facet of our culture, the origins of racism, systems of oppression, false dichotomies, the patriarchy, the difference between gender and sex, toxic masculinity, racial identity development, white fragility, systemic racism, self-care, and more.

The Leaders
The facilitators, speakers, and leaders of these events are inspiring, incredible, and courageous. Dedicating your life to DEI is very difficult. Hearing these leaders speak, and working with them has given me so much hope for the future of our country. Their stories enrich my understanding of the human condition, their expertise create spaces where people can be venerable, proud, and caring, and their work is changing our society for the better. These people are a part of a proud tradition of advocates, researchers, and scholars who are fighting for the freedom of all that includes Frederick Douglas, Angela Davis, and Grace Lee Boggs.

The People
Around tables, during breaks, standing in line for food, and over meals I’ve met some wonderful people at these events. These are spaces when I’m often not the minority. Most of the time, there are more people of color in these spaces than white people, and my world view is validated by those I meet. Generally, people come to these events with kindness, a willingness to listen, and are really interested in what I have to say. Feeling alone in crowds is normal for me. I’ve often the one of the only Asian-Americans in a group, or one of the only men who wants to talk about destroying the patriarchy, However, at these events, I feel a sense of community and belonging. I’ve met smart, determined, proud, and courageous people all across America who are doing the work, and are not giving up. Knowing that they are out there, believing in me, as I believe in them and doing the work alongside me gives me strength, and hope.

I am very aware of the privilege I enjoy that has allowed me attend such wonderful events.  This is why it is so important for me to use the power that the events have given me to benefit my school community, myself, and my family.  I look forward to continuing to enter these spaces, and contribute as I receive and show up for others as they have shown up for me. 

Parenthood: Week 380 – On The Move

It starts with a kick. First felt by the mother and then on the outside by the partner. There is motion, a life that is moving, and in that feeling there is hope.

In the first months of a baby’s life, movements are more reflexes than deliberate actions. With each stretch and hand squeeze there is excitement. It’s one more way that the baby is interacting in the world. Then the baby rolls over, army crawls, toddles, walks, and runs. It doesn’t stop there. There are scooters, tricycles, bicycles, and eventually cars. Each step of the way this ability to move are great accomplishments, and one more way that they are moving away from parents. Before you are ready to let go, they have figured out a way to move away a little faster.

I joked that I would be happy to Lucas stayed simply on his back as a baby for a little bit longer. I didn’t really enjoy the part of having a baby where you could put the baby down on a blanket in the middle of the living room floor and come back five minutes later, and they would be in the exactly same place. So, I made sure to enjoy this with Lucas. Not surprising, with his brothers running around the house, and his curious personality, Lucas learned to roll over and army crawl earlier than his brothers did.

Lucas works really hard at movement. When he was learning how to turn over he really worked his core and has developed this “model” pose where he twist his torso to one side while his legs lay flat. It is super cute. Even though he still army crawls. Lucas lift his bottom up in a bear walk position, which he does quiet often. It’s only a matter of time before he can full on crawl, and today I noticed that he’s starting to pull up on low furniture. By the way, Lucas is just about 8 months old.

Ethan my two-year-old is so much fun to watch when he ambulates. He doesn’t quite know how to run, but when he tries by walking really fast, which he calls a run, his body bounces around back and forth. This combined with the fact that he doesn’t really know what to do with his arms creates these wonderful visuals where hi legs are pumping almost at a run, and his arms are dragging behind him, or just waving wildly above his head. Ethan seems to have little care for his body and will throw himself into people for hugs. He runs into people and things by accident, will randomly fall down when running, and often vocalizes while he runs. It’s delightful.

Ollie, only a couple months into being seven-years-old can rode his two-wheel bike without the training wheels for the first time yesterday. My maternal grandmother got him going. He only went a couple seconds at first, and would fall into the curb or grass every time he would stop. Today, after some teaching from my wife, he rode for a couple minutes confidently. He does know how to stop now, though he did crash into a girl on a scooter (both of them were fine). Ollie hasn’t quite figured out how to start yet, but he really only needs a quick push from me to get going.

Following him riding on my wife’s bike watching he bike in front of me, I felt worry. I knew he still didn’t have great control, and I was concerned about not being able to help him. More than that, I was proud and happy to see him feel a sense of accomplishment and the freedom of movement on a bike. It comforted me knowing that it would only take me a couple pedals to catch up to him, because I knew at some point later, he would be beyond my reach.

My sons are growing up, and even though they are able to move away, they all spend energy to move close to me at times.  I know learning to let go is a feature of parenting, but it's still hard at times to see them moving so quickly away from you.  Even though I know that more and more they will be away from me as they grow up, it is comforting to know as Gramma Talla assured Moana, "There is nowhere you could go that I won't be with you."

How I Came To The Work – Part 6: The Position

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.

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. 

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.

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:

When I watch Hamilton I see a future for my children.

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.

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. 

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.

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...