Racism in America

From Thursday, May 28th, 2020

“Jesus loves the little children. All the children of the world. Red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in his sight. Jesus love the little children of the world.” I grew up singing this song in my all white hometown surrounded by great examples of Christian living. Love others, help those who are less fortunate, and work hard were all values instilled in me through the many adults in that hometown (family, teachers, church members). I went to a high school where there were no people of color. I went to church with only white people. We didn’t travel much as kids and there was no internet or social media back in the 80’s and 90’s. My only exposure to black people was on tv (Bill Cosby, Fresh Prince, Family Matters). In my history classes, I learned that the slaves were freed after the civil war and I learned a little about Martin Luther King, Jr. and that black people had the same rights as we do. They could vote, own property, work for a living, etc. I had been taught that racism no longer existed, or that maybe there were a few racist people in this world. It was a thing of the past. I was naïve. I had never had a conversation with a black person so nobody had ever told me any different. That was my truth. That is the truth that many white Americans still “know” despite the abundance of information available to us in the 21st century. 

I went on to college in that same town. There were a few people of color on our campus, but not very many and they seemed to “know” to stay on campus. I remember starting to hear things like that and being confused, but still pretty naïve. Still, almost everyone in my classes was white and my social circle consisted mostly of people I worked with (almost all white) because I was working a full-time and a part-time job plus going to school full-time. I was pretty oblivious to the world around me at that time. Then, I got my very first teaching job in Henry County and moved away from my hometown. But, still, I moved to another “mostly white” area. I taught there for four years and only ever had two black students in class. Because they could easily be identified, I won’t share the private conversations I had with them, but I started to see that the world was not the same for them as it was for me. 

In 2004, I moved to Louisville and I was in an interview for a teaching job at Shawnee High School (now, the Academy at Shawnee). I didn’t know much about Louisville at the time, other than I was excited to move to the bit city! I didn’t know anything about the schools in the area and was unaware that Shawnee was located in a predominately black neighborhood and a very large minority population. I had no idea that day that my life and my view of the world was about to change as a result of that interview. Looking back, I know that God sent me to that school, not just to make a difference in the lives of the students I would have there, but to open my eyes to the world around me. The principal, who was black, asked me in the interview to talk about my experience teaching black students. I remember I was caught off guard by the question. I had no idea how to respond back then. I said something about teaching all students the same, regardless of skin color. I thought that was a pretty decent answer. I remember her telling me that it was obvious I had a lot to learn and asked if I was willing to learn. “Yes, Ma’am. I know my experience in that area is limited, but if you are willing to teach me, I’m ready to learn.” That was what got me the job. 

I remember the excitement that I had about landing that job and telling people where I was going to work. I was met with, “Why would you want to teach at that school?” “You couldn’t find a better job?” “I guess it’s a foot in the door and then you can transfer to a good school.” “Those kids are bad.” “You should turn it down.” I worked at Shawnee for nine years from 2004-2013. At the time that I moved, there was only one certified staff member that had been there longer than me. Every single teacher, Principal, Counselor, Assistant Principal, everyone had moved on to some other school. That in itself is a part of the problem-the turnover in staff. Our educational system and our schools are not equal. What I learned, how I grew in those nine years, changed me as a person and shaped me into a better educator. My view of the world changed because of the countless hours I spent with my black students and their families. It prepared me to be a better counselor in the three schools I have worked in after leaving Shawnee. 

I travelled with students often as a part of our DECA program and because I taught a Travel & Tourism Marketing program. I can remember taking some of my students to a mall on one of those trips and watching kids going into stores and coming back out as I sat on a bench reading a book while they shopped one day. Other kids were going in and out. My students went into a store and they were followed around the store. Their bags were checked as they exited. That didn’t happen to other students. 

I took notice of my white friends locking their doors when they would see a black man walking on the street, but not when they saw a white man. I remember the comments people would make about me working late and walking to my car after dark. One night, I had a friend with me after a football game and I got a flat tire on 34th and Muhammad Ali. She was freaking out. A black male began walking toward our car with a lug wrench and she was practically screaming at me as I got out of the car to ask the young man for help. He had recognized my car and came over to help me change the tire. 

I watched as my black students were given harsher consequences at school for the same infractions as their white peers. I watched as my black students dropped out of school at higher rates, were more likely to be identified for special education, and were more likely to get arrested or murdered. They look around at school and most, if not all of their teachers are white. The books they read and shows they watch do not give them strong black role models. The toys they play with do not come in their skin tone. Their names are regarded as “hard to pronounce or spelled weird”. They are given harsher sentences when they are found guilty of crimes. It is a cycle that starts when they are young children. “Jesus loves the little children……..” He does! I do, too. I think of these sweet little black boys in the elementary schools where I have worked and want them to have the same privileges as their white classmates, but I know that’s not the current reality. Not because “the media told me to” or because “they are playing the race card” but because this is the reality that they live. I know this is not a new reality. This has been their reality all along. I didn’t know about it because it wasn’t happening to me or anyone I knew growing up, so I didn’t believe it was real. If you think it’s not happening, it is probably because it is not happening to you, your family, or the people you care about. It’s not that it’s happening more often, it’s just that now we have cameras readily available for people to film and an easy way to share that information over social media. 

I can’t imagine what mothers have to say to their black sons to prepare them to go out into the world and survive being judged at first sight based on the color of their skin, especially by people in authority. We want to teach them to respect authority, but sometimes, authority doesn’t deserve that respect. I don’t think I deserve respect just because I am an educator. My students deserve the same level of respect I get and if I don’t treat them as human beings, I don’t deserve their respect. Yeah, I hear you. There’s good cops out there. I know them. I have them come into my school. They go with me on home visits or they are there as an SRO to keep our school safe. I have friends that are cops. I have had cops step in to keep me safe in certain situations. I appreciate and value our police officers. Their lives do matter, but that’s not a question. That’s a given. I am not here to say all cops are bad. But some of them are. I am not here to say all black men are innocent and good. They are not. Some of them really are violent criminals. But, our society is punishing those that are not for the crimes of those that are. There are some bad educators out there that molest children and are charged with child pornography. I don’t want anyone lumping me in with them just because we have the same job title. I get it. But, the problem is that they can do this and get away with it. They are not immediately arrested and charged with murder. Instead, they are defended, because we should respect the police no matter what and their victims have their name run through the mud. “They shouldn’t have been breaking the law.” “They should’ve just shut up and done what they were told.” “Look at all the bad things this person did in their past.” Our society does not do that to a white person that gets shot by a cop. The cop is investigated, even if it was justified. 

I think about what my husband would do if someone in plain clothes (even if they were cops) burst into our house without a warrant, without identifying themselves, and came for me. I feel pretty certain he’d shoot them, like Breonna’s boyfriend did. And, he would be justified. He wouldn’t be all over the news with people talking about all the things he did in the past or the mistakes I have made. If he were out jogging (okay, maybe walking?) no one is going to follow him around and threaten him and shoot him. If he wrote a bad check, he would not be held down with a knee on his neck until he died. He carries a gun on his hip everywhere he goes. Why is it, though, that a white man with a gun is seen as exercising his rights, but a black man with a gun is seen as a violent criminal? Why is it that I keep seeing people talk about having their guns and if the government/police officers try to make me do XYZ, then they’ll fight, but those same people tell black people that they should do whatever the officers tell them and to respect authority. 

It breaks my heart to keep seeing the cries of my black friends. I want to help. I know my white a voice is an important part of changing the way people see things. If you see a black person and you feel fear, I ask you to think, “Would I feel the same way if he was white?” If you wouldn’t, then take a look at your own bias. I challenge you to try to see things from a different point of view. All lives don’t matter until black lives matter. Your life does matter to me. It does matter to my God. You are all God’s children and “Jesus loves the little children………”