Building Hope and Solidarity in a Language Arts Classroom

 

Building Hope and Solidarity in a Language Arts Classroom

 

            My initial reaction to the material covered this week left me feeling vulnerable and hopeless. By taking a close look at racism in America, both from a historical perspective, as well as from that of an educator preparing to enter into a classroom to deal with the impact that systematic racism has had on so many of our students, I initially felt unsure of myself. When Tricia Rose defines structural racism as “the normalization and legitimization of an array of dynamics that routinely advantage whites while producing cumulative and chronic adverse outcomes for people of color,” I’m forced to reckon with the fact that I have lived my entire life reaping the benefits of white privilege without ever considering it. Things that I have taken for granted, such as safe and stable housing, access to education, and the benefit of the doubt that my race has given me in terms of criminal justice are all things that many young people struggle with on a daily basis. To say that I have been blind to these things would be inaccurate, but if I am to truly consider the impact of racism in America, and help my students to do so, I have to come to grips with the advantages that I have had that far too many students don’t.

            Jeff Chang’s article “A long history of violence against Asian Americans that led up to Atlanta” further forced me to reckon with the impact of racism on this nation. Seeing the dramatic increase in hate crimes against people of all colors and creeds is a troubling reality that we have to face if we are to help our youth grapple with the injustices they will face. When Chen reminds us that Trump’s use of the term “China Virus” is in fact “A trope that dates to the 1700s”, he points out the long history of racism in the nation and in the world. As an educator, helping students to deal with the systemic racism inherent in capitalist America feels like an uphill climb.

            Most troubling for me were the words of James Baldwin in the film I am not Your Negro.

Living during the Civil Rights movement and knowing such men as Medgar Evers, Martin Luther King Jr., and Malcolm X made him uniquely suited to tell their stories, and the story of systemic racism in America. It also left me feeling somewhat hopeless to help young people deal with racism at a time in our history when calls for social justice are at the highest that they have been since the 1960s. His words about America felt prophetic when he said, “It is a terrible thing for an entire people to surrender to the notion that 1/9 its population is beneath them. And until that moment comes when we the American people are able to accept the fact, that I have to accept for example that my ancestors are both white and black, that on this continent we are trying to forge a new identity for which we need each other, and that I am not a ward of America, I am not an object of missionary charity, I am one of the people who built the country. Until this moment, there is scarcely any hope for the American dream because people who are denied participation in it by their very presence will wreck it. And if this happens, it’s a very grave moment for the west.” In the face of his skepticism, at a time when it feels like American democracy feels under fire, it is hard to feel hopeful that we will be able to help our students rise above the impact of racism in America.

            However, the additional readings that I did this week began to replace some of my doubt with potential for change. In reading “The Pain and the Wounds: A Call for Critical Race English Education in the Wake of Racial Violence” (Bell, Butler, & Johnson), I began find potential tools that I could carry into the classroom to help my students. They urge all English educators to reframe their thinking and implement Critical Race English Education by “1. Engage in critical self-reflection, specifically working through ways in which their own personalities influence their pedagogical practices and the ways they perceive Black and Brown youth. 2. (Re)imagine ELA classrooms as sites of healing and racial justice. 3. Engage all youth in concentrated and serious dialogue about how white supremacy, anti-blackness, anti-brownness, homophobia, and other forms of xenophobia lead to race-based violence.”

            Danny Martinez’ article “”Imagining a Language of Solidarity for Black and Latinx Youth in English Language Arts Classrooms” helped me to further envision what a classroom build around solidarity and racial justice might look like. By incorporating the language, culture, music of our students, we make their experiences the center of the curriculum. “Building on what youth bring to the classroom,” Martinez argues, “means that we have to loosen up on our position as experts to also learn from students.” He goes on to add, “English classrooms engaging in a language of solidarity framework will be committed to humanizing the experiences of everyone in the course. English teachers must facilitate the development of youths’ abilities to speak back to dehumanizing experiences.”

            With all of these thoughts in mind, I tried to consider what a classroom based on creating a space for hope and solidarity for all students might look like. I began by thinking about how to establish a safe space for all students to tell their stories in a way that they feel valued. For this, I would begin the first class session by watching Shane Koyczen’s “To This Day”, a powerful anti-bullying poem centered on respect for everyone’s story. This would be followed by a group discussion of what the poem teaches us about establishing an inclusive community based on respect for everyone’s experience. This conversation would lead to the establishment of a set of group norms that the group commits to follow in order to establish mutual respect and positive discourse. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ltun92DfnPY

            I would finish that session by showing a short clip of a conversation between two of my heroes, poet Maya Angelou and comedian Dave Chapelle, about the importance of the sacrifices of our ancestors, the value that our lives hold, and similarities that we all share, regardless of past experiences. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gCDm6UGQSBU

            With that in place, I would introduce the group to a poem that will become the keystone of a long-term research project which will allow me to introduce the tenets of CREE principles. Saul Williams’ “Coded Language” is a poem I have been in awe of since I first heard him perform it on Def Poetry Jam years ago, and it is something I have always wanted to build a curriculum around. Published in his book of poetry The Dead Emcee Scrolls; The Lost Teachings of Hip-Hop, it is a call to celebrate all of the greatest minds that have come before us, the giants upon the shoulders that we now stand, and far too many of the people and events mentioned in this list poem will be unknown to most students. By digging deep and researching the poem over time, allowing students to choose which aspects of the poem they wish to explore further, we will uncover the stories of some of the more important people that have shaped our civilization, and in doing so, will be pointing out the diverse backgrounds of all of the groundbreakers that we have much to learn from, and of the struggles and hardship they had to endure in order for their stories to be told.  

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jzY2-GRDiPM

            Further inspired by Martinez, who points out, “Black ‘hip-hop heads’ are more likely to align themselves with other avid listeners of hip-hop, which creates a sense of community leading to linguistic flexibility with youth. For Black and Latin youth in my research, hip-hop and other music genres such as reggaeton and pop music were often a shared interest that lead to discussions and debates,” I began to rethink my use of music in the classroom. I have used music as a teaching tool in the past, but never as a way to analyze social issues. Thinking in this vein, I thought of songs that I could bring into the classroom to model music analysis that could lead to deep discussions about social issues. I would begin with Bob Marley’s “Redemption Song” to talk about slavery and human trafficking. Next I would highlight “Shadow Business” by Jedi Mind Tricks as a way to delve into unfair labor practices and human rights violations in various countries. Lastly, I would share “Poverty of Philosophy” by Immortal Technique to talk about the damage done to Central and South America and the Caribbean by American capitalist policies. Once the students become comfortable with this form of discourse, I would encourage students to start analyzing their favorite music in search of topics that might lead to rich discussions about social issues they find concerning.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QrY9eHkXTa4

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PJ4L-kCeQto

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BzWj9ZORv8E

            The final idea I had to ensure that social issues and student stories are central within the curriculum has to do with our approach to reading and writing. Therefore, I want to ensure that relevant and impactful social issues are at the core of the literature we read. Sticking with the theme of problematic policing practices in America, I would include Nic Stone’s Dear Martin in the curriculum. I would choose this book for two reasons; It is a powerful and accessible text that mirrors many of the struggles that students face regarding policing, and it serves as a model for ongoing writing work. The text is written in an epistolary format, showing the protagonist Justyce writing a series of letters to Martin Luther King Jr. as a vehicle to help him understand the racism that he is forced to endure. This got me thinking of asking students to brainstorm lists of social issues that lead to injustice, then think about who the students might direct their concerns to. By handing this responsibility over to the students, their concerns become the driver of the curriculum, and their writing becomes the central aspect of our discussions. A student struggling with anxiety might choose to write to Naomi Osaka about mental health, a student struggling with the increase in racism in politics might pen a letter to Barack Obama, and a student with Autism struggling to be accepted might reach out to Temple Grandin. By making the concerns and stories of my students central to our work, it will show them the importance of their own concerns and opinions, as well as bring about a sense of solidarity among the members of the classroom.