What's My Role?

Being an abashed Twitter-(over)user, I was delighted when I saw this tweet:

I love homework!

Not only is Doug Robertson a great resource for connected educators (you can check out his blog right here; it's entirely education centered, rather than the hodgepodge of stuff that mine features) and a funny guy, he also throws out a lot of ideas online that have helped me think differently about my profession. He let me guest blog on one of his other sites, too, and that's pretty spiffy.

But what got me excited about the tweet was not that it was Doug (sorry, Doug), but that it was talking about Revisionist History. I already geeked out about finding Malcolm Gladwell's podcast (another find that occurred because of Twitter, as it so happens), so this shouldn't come as a surprise. What was exciting was that the second season is being released.

Eagerly, I listened to the first two episodes, taking extra time to do my chores so that I had an excuse to keep listening. While Gladwell's podcasts' theme is giving history a second, harder look, there isn't an episode-by-episode continuity, so I wasn't listening in order because I was procrastinating Doug's homework assignment, honest. I was being thorough and it bothered me to start at number 3 when I hadn't listened to numbers 1 or 2 yet. Anyway, I encourage you to check out the previous season as well as what's coming out now.

Not Knowing So Much

One of the things that I have to keep reminding myself, lest I be reminded of it, is how little I know. While my understanding of the world continues to grow, there's so much that I don't comprehend that it gets a little intimidating. What I don't do enough, however, is remind myself of how little I know about the things I think I know. Episode 3, "Miss Buchanan's Period of Adjustment", is an excellent example of this.

In college--and, likely in high school, though I wasn't paying enough attention then to remember if I learned this--we discussed the Brown v. Board of Education case. It was important, because it helped get rid of "separate but equal" as a matter of American policy. In no way was that a bad step--segregation is inherently violent and the policy had to go--but listening to the podcast, I was shocked to realize that what I had thoughtlessly gone alone with the Supreme Court's ruling on the case: That the Brown family wanted a "better" school.

The implications of this are part of the podcast, so I'm not going to say much more except for the next step in the result of the desegregation of the schools: the increased segregation of teachers. I was unaware of how many people of color lost their jobs when Brown v. Board was implemented. And the idea that race can matter so much shouldn't have surprised me, but it did.

Role Modeling

I realize a mistake that I've been telling my students: I tell them that if I were to be fired, another teacher would be hired, their lives would go on, and they would probably be fine. And, on one hand, that's true. The nature of our society is one of replacement, allowed obsolescence, and deification of those few who are deemed irreplaceable. If I were fired--or, in my wildest dreams, given enough financial stability to be able to write full time--then my classes would be opened up to another teacher, those students would receive an education from that person, and life would go on.

I think where it would have the least impact is if I were replaced during the summer. Teaching and mentoring are structured around the relationships that are forged in the classroom. Once those relationships begin to form, changing them can be painful and detrimental (unless, of course, the relationship is a negative one, and then changing them is necessary). Many years ago, one of my coworkers, a thoughtful and caring teacher, was fired. There were some "other things" that went on with him that I'm not privy to, but the result for the kids in the classroom was that one day their teacher was there, the next day he wasn't. The feelings of abandonment permeated. Not only was he a beloved teacher, but he truly cared about the students and sought ways to help them. A new hire was quickly found, and though she filled his shoes well, the fracture for those students was palpable.

As I reflect on what I do as a role model, mentor, and teacher, it's clear that, in the paradigm that Malcolm Gladwell discusses in his podcast, I have a lot more that I need to do. This deals heavily with the thorny issue of race relations and the importance of representation, so it's not a simple or easy thing to discuss or consider. To say that I come from a "predominantly white background" undersells it: according to this site, 83.4% of Utah Valley is white, with 11.1% Hispanic. Only 2.1% being "Two or More" racial category. 

The fact that I'm white (and cishet male, while we're at it) means that I'm similar to a lot of my community--and just like everyone else for the minorities that are there. I think over my classes, and, yeah, I've had a handful of Latinos throughout the years, and a small, small number of students of Native American background (I can think of three over nine years, but I could be forgetting some or not have known about others), five or six who were black, and then a smattering of sundry Asians. That is normal for this area, but the concern isn't how many minority kids I teach, it's how well I reach them.

Representation Matters

I agree with the idea that representation--in fiction, in business, in education--matters. That's the whole point of being a role model, right? That you're visible to inspire others to be like you. And the growing understanding of having people who look like you in positions you aspire to is encouraging. In the case of my classroom, I'm pretty sure that I have kids who hear stories about me and my wife and aspire to have a marriage like ours. I know that my example of reading--and what I read--inspires some students to take charge of their education and branch out into books that they wouldn't normally approach. And as a white guy (the "default setting" of too much in our society), that comes across to my white students, even if they don't know it, as something that they're invited and maybe even expected to do. That is, the paradigm is already set up for them.

I can do the same for my minority students. Most of them probably don't look at my skin and think "I can't be/do that because I'm not white", but there's a high likelihood that some do--again, even if they don't know it. It's on me to extend a hand and try to push and encourage and mentor and guide them toward a better future, to help them find the success that Gladwell demonstrates is much more difficult because kids of a different race don't see themselves in the leaders of today.

Indeed, a lot of what I'm thinking about revolves around representation, which is a topic for a different essay, a different day. Nevertheless, the idea that I can--and, really, must--do better is an idea that I need to chew on some more.

Now, if you'll excuse me: Twitter is calling.