I didn't feel very comfortable with how some of the teachers were talking about the students. “This is a brand-new environment; who am I?” I thought to myself, I'm just a student-teacher. I don't have any clout.
I listened to some of the staff members make some negative comments about some of the students who were labeled as troublemakers or students who weren't seen favorably by some of the other staff members. I remember not saying anything. I just figured, You know what. I'm new here, and even though I don't like what I'm hearing, I'm just going to walk away and not engage in this conversation. I left the staff lounge, and I don't think I went back there throughout the rest of my student teaching.
I shared this story with one of the professors at my university. I used to love talking to this woman because she was one of those individuals who spoke her mind, and she didn't hold back. As I'm sharing this story, I'm smiling. I was like, I walked away because I didn't want any part in this conversation. I'll never forget what she said to me. She said these five words, “And what did you do?” See, when I was at that school and I was developing my teaching skills, I thought I was doing the right thing by just walking away and not engaging in the conversation. I had been student teaching at the school long enough to know who they were discussing, but I was a student teacher. I wasn't even certified. It was my last year in college. I was brand new. No one knew who I was. Who was I? I thought the right thing was just to walk away and not say anything.
Not Doing Anything Is Not Doing Anything
I saw the disappointment in her face because I responded, “Well, I didn't do anything. I left.” At that moment, I came to the realization that not doing anything was not doing anything. Does that make sense? Not doing anything was not doing anything at all. Let me interject. Sometimes, we have opportunities when we overhear something or witness something. We may be in a staff meeting, and the things that are being said and discussed make us feel like we should raise our hand and speak up. We may think, Let me stop this. However, sometimes, our positionality and confidence may hinder us. I feel like the phrase imposter syndrome gets thrown round a lot. We start to wonder, Who am I to be in this space?
I'll never forget those five words the professor said to me, “And what did you do?” Those words had me thinking, Oh man, I didn't do anything. I thought I did the right thing by not responding and just walking away. What I realized is I could have said something. I could have said something such as, “You know what? I know I'm new here. I know I'm not even staff, but I must be honest. I'm a little disappointed because I'm really excited about being an educator. I'm a candidate right now, and it's kind of disappointing to hear the negativity being spoken to our students.” I could have left it there. I could have gone even further and said, “I haven't been here long, and I don't know the student's back story. However, he's a human being, and I think he deserves a chance. If we take the time to create that relationship, maybe we wouldn't feel that way.”
The thing about the term ally, to be honest, is that allyship isn't precisely what's needed right now at this moment. Furthermore, allyship can become very performative. Sometimes I hear the question, “Will things change when it comes to equality or when it comes to folks being treated fairly or the end of racism? Will that happen in our lifetime? Or will these things continue from generation to generation to generation to generation?” I think the reason things continue to be the way they are, especially for those who want to end things, is that we never say or do anything to change the way we think about others. It is ineffective to say, “Yes, what's happening is wrong,” but we don't do anything about it. If we just say, “I wish that things were different, but I want to be a safe space, so therefore, I'm an ally” or “I have a poster, and I have a sign or BLM flag in my classroom” or things like that, where's the action?
Unfortunately, a lot of the allyship can become performative very quickly. Now, you might have heard the term performative wokeness, but what does it mean? According to Lizzy Bowes (2017), “Performative wokeness is a superficial show of solidarity with minority and oppressed bodies of people that enables people to reap the social benefits of ‘wokeness' without actually undertaking any of the necessary legwork to combat injustice and inequality.” I like this definition because at the end of the day, the question that I have for you is, “Well, what are your motives?”
Yes, we're educators. We want to be there for our kids. We want to support them, and I think we can all agree that no matter what your views are, we want the best for our students. John Dewey said, “What the best and wisest parent wants for his child, that must we want for all the children of the community. Anything less is unlovely and, left unchecked, destroys our democracy.” I think we can agree that we want the best for our students as if they are our own flesh and blood, but what are your motives?
What Are Your Motives?
I did a training with a group of teacher candidates a while ago. A good professor colleague of mine invited me to lead the training, and he asked me talk about equity in education. After providing my lecture, I opened the floor for some Q&A. I love to do Q&A because when I prepare a lesson for some group with whom I'm going to work, I assume that I'm delivering information and engagement based off what is needed. I love to follow up with Q&A because maybe I missed something or maybe I didn't touch on a question or a topic that an individual in the audience might have had.
A young white woman raised her hand. She said, “I am finishing up my teacher program soon, and I am very into equity work. I want to be the best teacher I can be and be there for my students. Should I go to an urban school, or should I go to a suburban school?” I remember responding with, “I can't answer that question. What are your motives? I don't know you. I know nothing about you. I don't know if you are saying, ‘I feel like I can do good at an urban school, teach kids, and help provide a voice and advocacy work. Should I go to a suburban school, provide a voice, and teach our students in those schools about social justice.'” I went on to say, “The bottom line is, be your authentic self. Kids can tell when someone is putting on a show. Kids can tell when someone's motives aren't genuine. Just because you're an educator does not mean that your students, parents, guardians, and community know that you have the best intentions. You can say that in your opening welcome letter. You can say that in your weekly newsletters, but are you showing that through your actions? Whether you decide to work in a school that's primarily Black and Brown or at a primarily white school, I think at the end of the day, we're doing our kids a disservice if our intentions aren't genuine. Are you coming to a school because you feel like you need to save that community? Are you coming to the school because it's just another paycheck for you? Are you coming because you recognize that for our educational system to change and for us to develop future good citizens, we must respect each other and respect our different opinions? We must learn to help others. We need you to be there to support students in that manner and teach them those other life skills and prepare them for life outside your classroom.”
I don't believe in the phrase “preparing students for the real world” because school is the real world as well. However, preparing them with the skills they need to operate as adults is not indoctrination. It's just teaching your kids to be good people and good human beings. What are your motives?
Unfortunately, I sometimes get to the place of trying to figure out what's next. We live in a world, especially if you're in the United States, where the media dictates a lot of our beliefs. I have a newscaster friend who once told me the way the media selects stories. The mantra was, “If it bleeds, it leads.” It often takes a tragedy for folks to start to listen. We support various causes for whatever reason, but I always wonder sometimes if there is more that I can do as Sheldon Eakins? Did I do enough? Can I do more? Are there topics on my podcast that I haven't covered that I need to cover? Are there topics that I should cover more? I question myself a lot because as I say on my Leading Equity Podcast every time, “Welcome advocates.” I talk about being an advocate. I
