Teaching Life

From the moment my husband and I transitioned from being a family of two to a family of three (then four), our focus shifted. We were ready to show our little people the world and celebrate their place in it. We prayed they would love their dimples, their smiles, and all the twists and coils of their hair, so we intentionally filled our little world with images that would affirm their perfection. Conversely, we urged them to seek the lessons in their missteps and gave them permission to own their feelings, whether sadness, anger, or fear. Most importantly, we wanted them to unabashedly claim their joy. Because we knew the world would not always afford them the protection of childhood, we ceaselessly advocated for joy. 

From Day Zero, we lead our little ones through lessons of discovery. I couldn’t wait to read them my favorite bedtime stories, so I quickly purchased their first books even before I felt their first kicks. Yet for Black parents in particular, we must instill self-worth in our children just as fervently as we guide them through learning their letters and numbers. In pre-K, my son shared with me that another child told him that nobody wanted to play with him because he was brown.Thus began our tough but vital talks affirming his pricelessness and countering the negativity his cocoa skin could evoke. A few weeks later, he excitedly told me that he made a new friend. “And he has hair like mine Mommy,” he innocently but poignantly shared.  The need for affirming spaces beyond our home became all the more clear.

As children enter school systems, we begin to share the responsibility of their education with their teachers.  Now more than ever, we give educators their rightful due, as we have had to assume the role of co-teacher against the backdrop of the COVID-19 pandemic and social distancing. Many of us have been humbled as we work through common core math and dizzying online classrooms, by the often amazing work that we know teachers perform. Nonetheless, their skill cannot replace our advocacy for our children’s education.

As a middle schooler in the late 1980’s, I recall my History teacher telling the class that no other group in history had been treated worse than Native Americans. I recall his glance squarely landing on me, one of very few Black students in the class, as if to say, “Don’t you dare say anything about slavery.” I knew better at thirteen years old than to rank historical atrocities and generational trauma. I also knew that my teacher’s point was rooted in racism. As I moved on to high school, I continued to see how Black History was minimized and sanitized and how the work of women, if mentioned at all, seemed to come and go with a whisper.

With these experiences still vivid in my mind, I encourage parents to remain vigilant in ensuring that schools teach our children’s history and her-story, from an inclusive, historically accurate lens. About two years ago,  I asked my daughter what she was learning about Black History in fourth grade. She said, in her matter of fact tone, “Nothing.” I quickly realized, along with other parents, that our children’s school lived the “I don’t see color” mantra, leaving  our children and their culture invisible. Within a year, as a collective, we were able to work with school officials to diversify their field trips and programs, and incorporate Black History, Latinx History, and Women’s History more robustly into the curriculum. We also began strategizing on how to increase the diversity of our teaching staff, as well as address achievement gaps and disciplinary practices in our school. When I asked why these discussions hadn’t happened before, our principal frankly stated that no one previously had mentioned the concerns. I do not doubt that parents and students felt the glaring omissions and inequities in the school before that year,  but somewhere that voice was lost. We can never rely solely on the historically racist systems in our country to lead the charge for equity in education. Furthermore, for the schools that are proactive, a diverse and representative group of parents must be present at the table where our children’s future education is crafted. 

Dr. W.E.B Dubois stated, “Education must not simply teach work, it must teach life.” Black parents know this all too well. We know that their success academically and their success and survival in life are each of vital importance.  Their minds and bodies, which are too often viewed as a threat and ignored as potential excellence, are gifts to the world. Let us stand strong in ensuring they are educated, celebrated and find their life’s joy. 

References:

  1. McGhee E, Beal Spencer M. Black Parents as Advocates, Motivators and Teachers of Mathematics. The Journal of Negro Education, 84(3), 473-490.

  2. Todson I. Stop the BS – When You Hear a Negative Statistic About Black Students – Question It. The Conversation, February 25, 2019.

    Retrieved from: https://theconversation.com/stop-the-bs-when-you-hear-a-negative-statistic-about-black-students-question-it-110987

  3. Norwood C. The Legacy of Booker T. Washington Revisited

    Retrieved from: https://www.npr.org/sections/ed/2015/03/05/388443431/the-legacy-of-booker-t-washington-revisited

Credit for blog photo: Angelique Redus-McCoy June 26, 2018

Angelique Redus-McCoy

Angelique Redu-McCoy is a general academic pediatrician, medical educator, and child advocate in Cleveland, Ohio. A strong advocate for equity and inclusion in medical education, she mentors medical students and pediatric resident physicians, especially those who are underrepresented in medicine. Ultimately, her heart lies with her family, who have been her greatest teachers and greatest joy.

Twitter: @DrRedusMcCoy

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