The Invisible T-Shirt: A Narrative Lesson Plan

Photo courtesy of Slate

The Rationale:

My idol Dr. Ladson-Billings (1995) states that “students must develop a broader sociopolitical consciousness that allows them to critique the cultural norms, values, mores, and institutions that produce and maintain social inequities” (p. 162). These understandings can provide critical awareness of how race and minoritized peoples are socially constructed, and that without explicit discussion of how racist ideologies function, the inequities we see will continue to seem “normal,” putting the blame on people of color instead of an inherently racist system.  This lesson helps make the invisible racist ideologies visible, and this consciousness allows students to better understand the personal impact of the pervasiveness of racism. 

I learned this activity when I was organizing at UW-Madison as a part of the Diversity Committee of the student government.  It was powerful for me then, and even more once I have done it with adults and my senior students. 

The Clip from America to Me

Here is the clip as seen from Starz’s 10 part docuseries America to Me (Teachers, did you know thanks to Participant Media you can watch this for free until the end of the summer? Click here). I appreciate that there is a clear parallel between my own life (feeling important and full of agency in the classroom) and my treatment in the school (powerless with no agency) and the idea of our own sense of selves versus society’s stereotypes.

Note: it is most teacher’s nightmares to have to spell in front of their classrooms, and that fear is exacerbated when on national television.  That dang “h”–I can assure you know I know how to spell “ghetto.” However, with trying to spell incredibly quickly and a camera in my face, I panicked.  I committed, but in panic. It was important for me to note that I know how to spell the word 🙂 

Materials
* Large pieces of butcher paper cut into rectangles with tape or sticky easel pad paper
*Optional handout
*Poster Markers or Sharpies
*Colorful printing labels

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2018: The Year that Was

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Holding sunshine over the clouds in Ecuador

*Wipes off dust.*   Tap, tap, tap, is this thing on?

It’s been exactly 498 days since I have written in this blog of mine.  It’s been a rollercoaster of a year and a half, with super high highs and deep low lows.  I’m happy to say I’ve recently been able to get off and catch my breath, which is good because I was starting to get super nauseous.

I can go into at another time, but 2017 was especially tough for me.  It was the year that wasn’t. It was not fun. It was not a year of growth. It was not good. It just… wasn’t.  

For example, in the fall of 2017, a friend asked me how things were going at school.  Without even thinking. I replied, “I’m in the sunken place,” cueing a Get Out reference.  I gasped and slapped my hands over my mouth at my response, but that’s how I honestly felt at that time while teaching at OPRF.  My voice was silenced by racial equity leadership, and I was made to feel like I was no longer welcome to teach there by administration.  Even with new additions to the school, it was clear that I was not going to be allowed to do racial equity work at OPRF, and I started to spiral.  It’s hard to feel like you don’t belong in a place that used to be your home. And so I struggled with mental health, and even with therapy and changes in medication, it felt like I was sinking.  And then 2018 came along, thank goodness.

2017 definitely taught me patience and pain, but thank u, next.

So onto the goodness of 2018.  There were three major life events that have really taken the bitterness out of the sadness of the year before (I’ll put more amazing events in the pictures).   I’m starting to transition from simply surviving to genuinely thriving, and for this, I am more grateful than I am able to express in the English language.

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Reading at ancient Zapotec ruins.

Transformative Life Event #1: I Went on T.V.

Rewind to the summer of 2015.  I had gotten back from New Zealand on my Fulbright, overflowing with ideas on how to eliminate racial predicatibilities in student academic achievement.  Academy Award nominated film director Steve James and I were having a beer and burger, talking about the possibility of filming in my classroom that upcoming year.  In my nervousness, I talked way too much about growing up in New Richmond, and my hardships of being a teacher of color in the building. Steve assured me that he was just going to film a couple of weeks, and that for a few teachers maybe a quarter or even a semester.  But he made it really clear that he wouldn’t be in my classroom all that much.

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Steve James getting ready to film my brothers and I playing basketball, while sound techniction Zak Piper mics them (this scene didn’t make the documentary.  Thanks goodness because Danny dunks right over the top of me).

I chuckle at that now, as I ended up working with three out of the four film crews, and they filmed weekly the entire year, sometimes several times in one week.  It became normal for my class and me to have a film crew in the room, and I could soon quickly and expertly get in and out of the wires of microphones between classes. Steve James and the rest of the film crew, especially Janea, Kevin, Rebecca, and Zak got me through that year.  They were my constant cheerleaders–super excited about everything happening in my classroom and caring about all of the kids as much as I did. In a school where autonomy rules, it was so nice to get constant feedback and connection from people who actually seemed to care about me and the work I did in the classroom.  

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