Each step down brought me closer to the nether din of high-pitched children sounds. Slocumb, a second-year Teaching Fellow, whispered forcefully. " Holding a pen and clipboard purely as props, I entered the lunchroom to meet the students. I battled through reading and discussing Crow Boy, often stopping mid-page because of rude laughing.
I cracked an excited smile, stunned that my weeks of training and years of youthful experience had steered me to this unequivocally grown-up post. I took in the Spongebob Squarepants bookbags, the girls' elaborate hair settings, jeans with winding embroidered flowers by the cuff, and the boys' Allen Iverson jerseys. They looked adorable, eager-eyed for the uncertainty-fueled First Day of School. One time Fausto slapped Destiny on the shoulder, a minuscule harbinger of the inter-gender aggression to come.
If Derek Jeter has a great hitting game but doesn't back up his pitcher at shortstop, the team suffers. I called on Cwasey, a shrimpy bespectacled black boy with squinty eyes and a freshly shaved head. Like teachers and students and the principal." "Outstanding Cwasey! Respect for teachers and students and the principal. " "Respect means you should treat everybody good, like you want to be treated." I had a star. Lakiya prompted several giggles when she shouted in her bassy tone, "Do your homework! I consolidated their input into two broad rules regarding respect, effort, and honesty (rules I had, of course, planned from the beginning) and moved them to the Reading Rug, an 8' by 10' panther design I had bought on the Grand Concourse. " I kept a straight face, but a majority of class erupted in crazed laughter at Fausto's apparently genius comedic line. Are you ready to stop acting like a kinder..." "DAAAAAA!!!! I had a great kid-friendly biography of Martin Luther King, Jr. I decided on the spot that rather than read the whole book (an invitation for disruption), we would crawl one page at a time, charting the important elements of a biography. My "Team" spiel and my desire to offer everyone an even-handed shake and social contract of respect was a disaster of nuclear proportions.
We were the women who asked the hard questions and took off the rose colored glasses and did what was right for us, and not the “community.”Rachel Lindsey, ABC’s historic first black female “Bachelorette” and seeing a black woman happily entertain the attention and affection from men of all races STILL has folks shocked, as referenced by The magazine caved and apologized, but in my opinion, they shouldn’t have. To this day, you have black women shouting from the rooftops that the ONLY man for them is a black man, and they aren’t shy about putting those preferences out and telling the entire world most black women feel the same way they do.
They were looking at the numbers just like everyone else, and can see that while every other minority in America is increased their intermarriage rates, black women still lag behind. Fear mongering about being “fetishized” also keeps black women stuck, and these people are more than happy to perpetuate that nonsense.
The following excerpt from my new rookie teacher memoir, On the first day of school, I woke up at , methodically showered and dressed, purchased a bagel at the corner bodega, and boarded the F-train. I had already prepared my chalkboard the previous Friday with the heading: I knew that establishing the "team" classroom culture had to happen right off the bat.
I needed to be firmest when I was the least experienced, the paradoxical curse of new teachers.
I hoped my "make our own class rules" activity was the right kind of opener. I had set myself against allowing "shut up" into the 4-217 vernacular, but my temperature was skyrocketing and at that moment I could handle the kids shutting each other up if it worked.