Teaching Slavery: Grade 7 edition

In the New York Times magazine’s yearly edition on college education there was an essay by Edward F. Baptist entitled, “Teaching Slavery.”  I keep coming back to it, reflecting on my own teaching experiences these days.  In his essay, Baptist discusses the challenges of teaching slavery to today’s college students.  He characterizes his teaching experience in the last 25 years as the challenge to overcome “….a bubbling bowl of white resentment.”  

Baptist identifies the schools where he has taught undergraduates and allows that the passage of time and diversity of the classrooms makes a difference.  Things were better at the University of Miami than they were at the University of Pennsylvania.  These days, now teaching at Cornell University, Baptist writes that things are better than they were at Penn but still notes that, “Resentment of the topic of slavery hums at a relatively low volume…”

In one respect, I teach at the opposite end of the spectrum from Baptist.  He has college students and I teach 7th grade.  In another respect, our demographic is similar.  In terms of privilege, the students at my independent college prep school are likely as well off as the undergrads at a place like Cornell, perhaps even more so.  In terms of diversity, however, my classes are distinct from Cornell and look a great deal more like the nation as a whole.  In most of my diverse 7th grade classes, whites are not the majority.

Baptist’s lessons on slavery are likely building on the previous knowledge of the institution that his history students have acquired.  I’m at the other end of the spectrum, laying the foundation for that knowledge.  My 7th graders care a great deal about fairness and in this respect slavery is at first quite easy to introduce:  it’s so clearly unfair.  Of course, it’s more than that, and I don’t neglect the complexities.

I teach my 7th grade history students that studying history is the process of discovering more complete truths of the human experience.  When I introduce slavery to a room full of diverse faces I make very clear that none of us are slaves and none of us own slaves.  We know that such a thing is deeply wrong.  I explain that none of us are personally responsible for slavery in the United States, but that we are all living with its inheritance and as citizens are therefore responsible for understanding its complexities.  I emphasize that this is a collective enterprise.  I explain the introduction of slavery in the American colonies as a racist solution to the desire for cheap labor.  My students and I never forget that slavery was driven by racism.

Talking about such a horrifying topic with 12 and 13 year olds is sometimes a challenge.  The pain and discomfort of understanding slavery sometimes shows on their faces; I can be overwhelmed by that horror.   So I tell them this as well: there are moments of greatness in our history; there are moments of great disappointments.  Together, they make up who we are.  Our history is imperfect because people are flawed.  From this foundation, our self-knowledge moves forward.  We can work as a class to understand our nation.  Instead of resentment, we have community and the sense that it is our world to both understand and repair.

Midterm Exams

This past week, JT sat for his first set of high school midterm exams.  My school runs a special schedule for midterms and so he didn’t have regular classes and each day he instead reported to the Lower Gym, where an array of more than 300 desks were lined up for the test-takers.  

Last weekend, he pulled together a semester’s worth of notes and reviewed those ideas.  Midterms are worth 10% of a student’s final grade in the course and so they are important.  More important in my mind was allowing him to take command of the process and organize his preparation and studying.  Luckily, his work was broken up by wrestling practice and a rather important wrestling tournament.  These provided a much-needed break and a bit of release, both essential to staying on top of his schoolwork and managing his time.  He sought advice from me as he got prepared but mostly he studied on his own from study guides and flashcards that he and his friends made together.

In a way, with 10% of his grade on the line and in his first year of grades that “count” for eventual college applications, this was risky on my part.  But I am a parent who believes my job is raise a child who can be a happy, independent adult.  If he got to his exams and felt well-prepared, this past week will have served that purpose quite nicely.  If he didn’t feel prepared when it came time to figure math problems or write English essays, then he’ll also learn from that and come final exam season in June we’ll work out on a better plan.   Either way, I believe that this process will have given him important insight into himself.

In the meantime, he gets to this weekend with an empty homework agenda.  We have Monday off from school so that teachers can grade those exams and JT is excited about 3 days with nary a single obligation to schoolwork.   He’s a pile of Sports Illustrated magazines to read, two books at the ready, wrestling practice to attend and a well-earned sense of accomplishment.   That’s happy!

The Heart of the Matter

I’ve been teaching American history and American politics for more than 20 years and I’ve grown to be experienced at explaining the very complicated story of slavery and race.  I say explaining as if I can help students to make sense of America’s tangled racial history; that’s rather an overstatement.  But I can help them to wrap their minds around the ways in which race has played out in our story.  I can help them to be aware of these questions as they move into the world.  

Nowhere has this task been as difficult as it is at my school.  It has nothing to do with the minds of the students I teach.  These children are bright and capable.  However, the diversity of the school and the racial tolerance the children routinely demonstrate toward one another and expect from the world is a complication.  Many of them truly can’t imagine that the color of another person’s skin would cause you to treat them differently.  It seems so obvious that such a view is sheer ignorance that they struggle to understand a world that is intolerant.

If something like slavery in the Americas were as simple to understand as a demand for labor solved by the short-term use of slaves, it might be easier to teach.  But of course, that’s not at all how it played out.  Enslaved people arrived in the American colonies as early as the 1600s and the institution didn’t formally end until 1864.  We’ve been living with the legacy of slavery and the racial prejudice that drove it since then.  More than 400 years of racial prejudice and animus can’t be easily explained away to students who see such views as outdated and ignorant.

So I take time to set the stage for this topic that will run as a significant thread through the American story.  In my diverse classrooms we pause to process the feelings that slavery and its legacy generate.  Though I wouldn’t say that I enter into these conversations easily, I do take for granted my ability to manage them.

Last week, we were at the start of the journey to think about slavery and its legacy in the United States.  It’s our first go-round with this topic in the 7th grade.  They aren’t too young to handle it, but the topic is potentially alienating so I had spent some time thinking about where we would start our discussions.  We had earlier explored the demand for labor in Jamestown and now it was time to think about the Middle Passage transportation of newly enslaved Africans.  We discussed the journey and the horror of the experience.  There were thoughtful questions as 12 and 13 year olds began to get their mind around what happened.  Things were going well and then one question caught me off-guard.  It came from a 12 year old of mixed race parents; a bright, organized, and sensitive student who likes her world in literal and exacting terms.  A raised her hand and when it was her turn to speak she looked right at me and with her heart on her sleeve asked, “Didn’t anyone understand how wrong it is to treat people this way?”

I paused at this heartfelt question.  Then my eyes filled with tears.  Because, honestly, isn’t this really the heart of the matter?  Was there not one passionate leader who could speak to people and lead them to reject the madness that is slavery?

In the pause, the class sprang into action.  M handed me a box of tissues.  J asked if I need a hug.  I wiped my eyes, explained what a good and powerful question it is, and told them how much their hearts and minds give me hope for the world.  Then 16 7th graders and I got back to work, wrapping our minds around the cruelty and injustice of slavery, all of us just a little more aware that these children make the world a better place.

On Grade 6

In addition to the administrative duties involved in my job as Assistant Principal, I am teaching 6th grade history.  All of our administrators teach and I love being in the classroom.  So when I first took the position, I wasn't the least bit fazed at this part of the job.   In fact, I would be hard-pressed to give up classroom time with  students, so it was essential to the switch.

In the spring, working with the other Middle School history teachers, I selected a textbook for the class.  Over the summer, I read the textbook and I thought about the topics I would teach and the skills the students need to develop.  I felt confident about the venture.  Come August, I sat down to make actual  daily lessons.  And then I panicked.  One day, as I sat in my newly-arranged office I actually thought "well, I'll just ask to go back to my usual teaching responsibilities with 11th and 12th  graders."  As if that was something that could just immediately occur at T minus one month until school began.

Instead, I took a deep breath and thought about approaching my planning on a day-by-day basis.  Lectures, discussions, and assignments of the sort you have with 16 and 17 year olds were out.  But I had a few ideas for daily lessons in mind; the book and my fellow middle school teachers had others.  I began to pull together day-by-day activities.  By the time school started, I had a plan for my first unit on the Romans……seven weeks of instruction in the bag.  A plan at least, but one bathed in uncertainty: would this work?

Within the first few days of class, it was clear that my plans were good.  What I hadn't expected was the enormous enthusiasm 10 and 11 year olds bring to the table.  In high school, you have to work pretty hard in the first few weeks to establish a rapport and get the students to take the risks to discuss big ideas.  The social context has to be overcome first; they have to trust the teacher and their classmates to really explore complicated ideas, some of which are completely new to them (looking at you, federalism).  There are periods when discussion is just a painful trudge.  Eventually, the class takes on a personality and then the learning really gets going.  Hanging over it all is the reality of material that must be covered to have the students ready for the SAT, the ACT, AP tests, and college beyond.  These are ever-looming events and the students must be prepared for them.  

But in the 6th grade, it's all out in the open.  Ask a question and every hand comes up.  They can hardly wait to share their ideas and to be heard (even on the occasionally off-topic idea).  And some of their ideas are just spot-on wise.  I hadn't quite expected such brilliance from the mouths of kids whose pencil is perpetually lost and whose binder is to large for them to get their arms around.  But it is thrilling.  It can be breath-taking to watch them think and wrestle with new ideas.  Time is immaterial; we can take as long as it takes to really understand something.  It feels luxurious, this kind of time.

Classes pass in the blink of an eye.  They laugh.  I laugh.  My mind whirls with other things we can do together.  We explore some fascinating notions and we move forward at a pace that suits all the learners in the room.  It's freedom.  And it is fun, so much fun.

Preparation

This is the final week of the third quarter and I'm busy grading exams and homework assignments, getting my grade book up to speed, and writing comments for every student that I teach.  It's all due next week and I treat the deadline as hard and fast because it is hard and fast.  Alas, my students aren't always convinced of this fact.

The grading and deadlines have me thinking about the work that I assign my students and the meaning and value of those assignments.  I make it a point never to assign what I call "busy work" ----- assignments that I won't read and comment upon for the student who did the work.  This has been my policy as long as I've been in the classroom.  So a student working with me can be confident that I feel my assignments have meaning and value.  All of them are targeted to prepare students for tests and assignments in my class and also to guide them toward the skills and work habits required for success in college and life.

To that end, my assignments have due dates and are handed out at least a week in advance of the due date so that the student can plan to organize his or her time accordingly.  Homework handed in on time receives full credit for effort.  This is my way of rewarding the establishment of good work habits.    But the assignments are about more than a due date.  I place so much value on the assignments that I even accept late work for partial credit because the work is part of the preparation.

Students who submit too much late work are reminded that this isn't a functional habit for school or the work world beyond.   Despite the occasional request, I never offer extra credit because, as I explain to my classes, the real world sometimes rewards hard work but rarely offers extra credit.  And then I explain:  if you're a physician who flubs the job, your patient is sicker or dead and no amount of extra credit can fix that.  If you're an aeronautical engineer whose design is flawed, the airplane doesn't fly.  And if I don't get my grades submitted on time, my boss doesn't tell me not to sweat it.  He tells me I won't receive a contract for next year.

I sometimes fear that this message is lost on my students; that it feels hopelessly old-fashioned or that I am out of touch with the world outside of education.  This quarter in particular, the late work has really piled up.  In order to get my work completed on time, I had to establish a deadline for student submission of late work.  Even then, some students failed to comply.  It's just a few students out of my 75, but it's a persistent issue for me and will be a problem for them when they head off to college.  I'm gearing up to award the tardy students zero points for the late work.  I fear that I'm more worried about this than they are.   But it's the only way I know to get work organized and completed and I truly believe that learning effective work habits is the least I can do to prepare my students for life outside of the cocoon of family and school.

Yet I still fret.  What is fair?  What is the purpose of my classes?  How should that be accomplished? How do I help my students to achieve the elusive goal of preparation?

Impractical

Yesterday and today the weather around here has been stunningly lovely.  Whereas late February typically brings cold (and sometimes cold's best friends ice and snow), we've instead had some very mild days.  Temps today will likely top out in the low 60s; there is sun and blue skies and just a few clouds skidding by my window.  Though I've not really earned this blessing, I am practically giddy at its development.

We've not required a snow day at all this year so I find myself longing for the opposite: a good weather day.  As in: hey, y'all, stay home from school today because the weather is nice.  This sort of thinking may be charming, of course.  But it also explains why I'll never be management material.

Update: As of Friday morning, there is a cold rain falling and the forecast high is in the mid-40s. So Winter isn't quite yet done with us.

Sigh.

The Sound of Home

My school has a small program for international students and there are a number of Chinese students enrolled in our classes.  These students are far from home, enmeshed in a world that is utterly foreign to them.  In U.S. History, this fact is abundantly clear and they work hard to make sense of such ideas as the Founding Fathers and New England…..ideas that make innate sense to native Americans but which require a bit more explanation when you are from another country.  The students work hard and do succeed, but I am always aware of how often they have to pause to make sense of our corner of the world.

Today, after lunch, my U.S. History class had a quiz.  It was a nice day and I opened the windows to the breeze and the fresh air.  As the students took the quiz, we could hear the sounds of a string quartet playing outside.  The music wasn't familiar to me, but it sounded lovely.  As the students handed in their quizzes, we talked about the music we were hearing.  None of the Americans recognized the tune, but all three Chinese girls did and with broad, happy smiles, they explained that the song they knew well; the story of a girl and boy in love.  A universal story, really.  It was the sound of home, one of the girls said, and then all three grinned as they enjoyed the comfort of a little familiar territory.

Overheard in the Hall

Student A: "Having rules for a dress-down day is like opening up a wound and pouring salt in it."

There is really nothing quite like the sense of injustice among teenagers.  Yet another reason to love my job.

Real Life Conversations with JT: College Prep edition

The backstory:  There is a dress code at our school and sometimes JT chafes at the restrictions.  He doesn't care that he can't wear jeans and he's got no complaints with the collared shirt requirement.  But……he strenuously objects to the limitations on shorts (now that he's a middle schooler, shorts are not permitted after October 1st in the fall and he can't pull them on until after May 1st in the spring…..he thinks that's lame).  And the boy is no fan of the requirement that he keep his collared shirt tucked in.  His animosity became more clear last week, when a friend of ours came to visit.  JP is a graduate of our school and a junior in college.  She happened to mention that she wore blue jeans to classes.

JT:  Hold up.  Do you mean that there is no dress code in college?

JP:  There is no dress code in college.

Unable to believe this extraordinary claim, JT sought confirmation from me.

Me:  There is no dress code in college, son.

JT:  Wow.  Now I finally have a reason to go to college.

Thank goodness all those years he's spent in a prep school won't be for nothing.

Gift Giving

At my school this year, I am a Senior class advisor.  Part of my job is to help the Seniors plan their class gift to the school.  At the moment we're raising funds for the gift.  The funds we raise will determine just how much we have for the gift.  At the moment, we're a bit short of cash.

The class treasurer suggested we just go to the Dollar Store to buy the gift.  This led me to have visions of piles and piles of cheap crap wrapped haphazardly and presented to the school.  To restore order, Student H suggested Smencils.  And then I was off an running.  Our Senior class gift will be Smencils scented like the school.  Those scents include:

 - rancid lunch, left a little too long in the lockers

- post Taco Bell haze, from the Seniors and their-out-to-lunch privileges

- locker room funk ('nuf said)

- downstairs bathroom at the end of the day (I trust I needn't say more?)

- Cafeteria French Fries, a smell that can linger for days

- Overheated lounge, a smell made more pungent when adults yammer on and morning meeting lasts too long

Other options will certainly be considered.  We plan to make our mark with this gift and I'm looking forward to seeing the look on the Headmaster's face when we make our Smencil gift announcement.

Aspirational Living

In the 5th grade, the students are learning how to write checks and balance a checkbook.  They've got a replica checkbook to do the work.  In his imaginary bank account as assigned by his math teacher, JT has $5,000.

This, of course, makes me want to enroll in the 5th grade.  Because God knows I've never had $5,000 in my checking account.  I guess that I should have gone to prep school.