While She Can Smell the Roses: A Prayer for my Mom

Dear God,

In Matthew 7:7, You said, “Ask and it shall be given to you…” Well, I have an ask, but before I lay my ask at your feet, I need to share a few things. Not that you do not know all things, but it helps me, God, to speak from the heart and lay it all bare. So, here I go.

On the maternal side of my family, my late grandmother Cobb gave birth to a dozen children. I had 11 aunts and uncles; my mom being the oldest of the bunch. One of my uncles, may he rest in heavenly peace, passed away many years ago from sickle cell anemia. According to the Centers for Disease Control (CDC) sickle cell disease (SCD) is prone to attack one in every 365 African Americans and one in every 13 African Americans carries the sickle cell trait; my mom has the trait. Why are African Americans more prone to sickle cell compared to all other racial and ethnic groups? There are a few thoughts regarding this phenomenon, but I did not intend to offer a scientific synopsis on diseases, specifically SCD, that affect Black/African Americans predominately; rather, I suppose I wanted to remind you that you’ve already plucked from the dozen.

God, I have no idea what it was like growing up with 11 brothers and sisters, but I can conjure up images of what my mom’s early upbringing was like in that very busy household. I envision two grandparents who migrated north to New York from North Carolina to start a new life but faced oppression and discrimination along the way. I envision a modest home where spare bedrooms were nonexistent, but love was plentiful. I envision sibling bickering, but a family bond that would challenge anyone who tried to test family loyalty. I envision a family where clothes were passed down from the old to the young, but those clothes did not indicate longing or need. I envision a semi-bare pantry, but a grandmother who could make a full-course meal out of anything, leaving bellies full and satisfied. I envision my grandmother calling for someone to go to the corner store for a loaf of bread and a pack of red-label snuff only to have her dozen darlings play pretend sleep. Okay, that last one might be slightly true. I have many more thoughts and images about my family’s household. I wonder what it would have been like for me, growing up with a sibling.  I almost did, but my younger brother never experienced this world; we never had the chance to play, tattle on one another, or protect one another from the dangers of growing up. So, there was just me and the tender love of my mom. Thank you, God, for gifting me my mom. I just love her so much! Perhaps the other gift was that my little brother, who would have been named Avery, was spared the realities of Jim Crow 2.0 or something far worse-reminiscent of the countless Black men killed senselessly. But I won’t go down that road here; I’ll save that story for another time. Before I go any further God, I hope you know that my prayer is not an indictment of my dad. On the contrary, my parents, who separated while I was very young, reminded me at every turn that although they were no longer together, their love for me was abundant.

My prayer, quite honestly, is my best attempt to extend a bouquet of flowers, preferably roses, to my mom. Too often tributes are offered when the person is no longer with us to know how much they were loved. Today, my mom can smell the sweet scent of each rose, which I hope comes through in these written words. She may not be too communicative now, but I know she can hear me. Just the other day when she wasn’t talking at all, I asked her to squeeze my hand if she could hear me; she squeezed it. That ever-so-slight squeeze was all the assurance I needed to keep writing, to keep talking to her, to sit with her as often as I possibly could. My mom, thankfully, knows I am here-right by her side. She can hear when I play her favorite tunes; she can hear me whisper in her ear, “I love you!” She will hear me when I read this letter to her. A letter that I’ve been writing and re-writing; for every 100 words typed, 101 words were erased. The questions that swirled in my mind like, how much did I want to share? Why am I sharing this now? Will God listen? Of course, He will, I finally told myself. God is listening now. In the end, I made the decision to let the words flow knowing that you don’t care how we come to you. You even said, “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28 NIV).  I am so tired. I feel like my heart is being ripped from me.

For more than 50 years, I’ve watched my mom exude an inordinate amount of strength, more strength than I could ever muster. Growing up, for example, my mom and I lived in a one-bedroom apartment. We could not afford much, but we certainly had the basics. Although raised Baptist, my mom was adamant that I would attend a parochial school. She wanted this schooling for me so much that she would wake before sunrise to travel to work, by train, from one state to another, to make those school tuition payments. I never really understood why, but back then you didn’t question your parents. So, I coerced my friends to ask her if I could attend public school with them. Well, that didn’t go over well. From kindergarten to grade eight, I knew only the color brown and from grades nine to 12, blue adorned my closet. Those were the required parochial school uniform colors, respectively. Having to wake up early to catch the bus from Mount Vernon, NY to New Rochelle, my mom, with her five-foot one-inch self, would walk me down the steps, with a broom in one hand, daring any loiterer to say something to me or her. In truth, I don’t think my mom could really hurt them, but she had and still has the heart of a lion. Looking back now, I think those people respected my mom’s heart. Today, my mom is facing possibly the biggest battle of her life. A two-time breast cancer survivor and my mom’s faith in God has only gotten stronger. Unfortunately, that cancer has returned, and it’s returned with a vengeance.

God, I am not sure whether to be angry with you or grateful to you. Angry that for more than a dozen years I’ve tried everything to get my mom to sell her home and relocate to wherever I lived at the time. Each time I asked her to move, she would give a reason why she could not leave B-more (Baltimore City). It wasn’t until this past summer that my mom while lounging in the reading room, said, “I am ready to move.” I thought I was hearing things because her words were almost too low to fully comprehend. So, I asked her to repeat what she said. Again, she said she was ready to move. Three months later, she moved. On November 12th, I finally had my mom with me. But, immediately after her arrival, we were assaulted with the news; the cancer returned and spread. Just typing these words, my heart sinks. I must pause to catch my breath. So much anger inside because I feel like you are robbing me of this time. On the other hand, I am deeply grateful to you, God, that my mom is finally here with me. Maybe it was your intention all along that in my mom’s greatest need, I would be able to stay by her side. As she lays in this hospital bed, I wept so loudly. My mom just turned and said, God, has us. She didn’t say, “God has me!” She said, “God has us!” Even in her upcoming fight, she unselfishly thought of me and her entire family. Today, my mom continues to fight. Maybe she is waiting for her siblings, nieces, and nephews to arrive from their respective designations. Maybe she wants to come out of this last fight with a new testimony.  I don’t know what the plan is, but what I do know is that I will be with my mom, side by side.

Returning to my opening. Dear God, I ask that you please hold my mom’s hands, wrap her gently near your bosom, comfort her in the midnight hour, and allow her to see her mom’s, my late grandmom’s, angelic face while she rests. If it is your will God, heal my mom’s body and make her whole again. If your plan is something different, please provide peace and comfort to my mom, me, and our entire family. Help me to continue to make her proud, ease the mental and emotional anguish that will undoubtedly follow if you call my mom home, and soothe and lessen the weight of my fractured heart. Finally, and only if you will her home with you, play a few songs for the journey; play her favorite artists including, the soulful sounds of Lena Horne, Mr. Baritone himself, Lou Rawls, and the sweet and rich voice of Dionne Warwick, and yes, even Frank Sinatra.  Amen.

Do Not Be Fooled by the Yellow Dress

The tweet.

“So many tweets from ppl leaving the education profession and they are entitled to that choice. I am here to share that I am not leaving edu. I choose to stay not bc I am built differently & do not have moments of struggle, but I simply love what I do. Anyone else choose to stay?”

This was the tweet I posted on March 2nd, 2022. The response was mixed. So, I want to be clear that this blog is not written to any particular audience as I am sure the response, once again, will be mixed.

I will do my absolute best to not mince my words. In one of my earlier blogs titled, “Maybe the Beginning,” I recount my start in education beginning in 1994 with the Baltimore City Public Schools  – the east side to be exact. My first classroom was situated in Thurgood Marshall Middle School. In that blog, I recalled my early struggles, my cries to return home in Mount Vernon, NY, and try my hand at something else, to which my mother, a single parent, readily welcomed as I am her only child and she would have done anything for me to return home. However, I did not return home that year. Instead, a team of seasoned teachers and administrators took me under their wing. I was coached, mentored, and supported throughout that very difficult year and the subsequent early years. I could have very easily walked away. My colleagues, ripe in their wisdom, embraced and pushed me, almost as if they refused to accept Black failure.

In his book, The Fugitive Pedagogy, Dr. Jarvis Givens pens a section with the heading, Resilience as a Descriptive Characteristic of Black Life. In this section, I imagine all those teachers and administrators who refused to adopt a deficit narrative. They would not let me fail nor would they let the students we were charged to serve fail. As Dr. Givens wrote, “they disrupted the single story of Black failure…” (2021, p.148).  I wish I could say that during my almost 28-years of experience that that was the only time I wanted to wave the surrender flag and call it quits, but it was not. There were peaks and valleys. Almost three decades in and there are still peaks and valleys, but I am glad I did not walk away.

We desperately need school personnel, inclusive of teachers, paraprofessionals, and administrators, who will go to bat for our students. We need educators and community members who will, by any means necessary, refuse “historical narratives” that portray the Black mind as unwilling and undeserving (Givens, 2021, p.145). So, when I asked, “Who else is staying?” I meant just that. If you left or if you know you need to leave, that is your choice. However, there are those of us who are teetering on the edge, resignation letter written but hesitant to submit to that letter because a fire within them still flames bright to do good work, to counter deficit narratives, and to hold high expectations while situating warmth at the same time.

These are the folks I ask to stay. Not the negative views hiding behind Twitter handles. Not those individuals who attempted to suggest I do not understand the challenges that occur in our classrooms or to attempt to embarrass me by publicly listing my salary, which by the way was incorrect. I want those who insisted that in some way I was sitting on a “jeweled throne,” or better yet, that I was “privileged,” to see me for who I am. As a Black woman who openly and proudly identifies with the LGBTQIA+ community, I have been called many things throughout my life, but privileged was not one. Yes, I can attest that there are some privileges afforded me that others may not yet experience. But please know there are countless times that I am reminded of the container for which folks try to place me in because of the color of my skin. However, I will not allow someone hiding behind a Twitter handle, or anyone else for that matter, to attempt to shame me because I “earn” a six-figure salary. I have put in almost three decades of sweat, time, and tears, and have forgone events with my spouse and children to give as much as I could to the children whose families entrusted me to care for. I will not be bullied or ashamed for what I earn and who I am. Please do not let the yellow dress in my Twitter profile serve as a window into my life. As Khalil Gibran posited so long ago, “Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.” Do not be fooled by the yellow dress as it masks, willingly, the scars endured then and even today.

In the recently published book, Fighting the Good Fight-Narratives of the African American Principalship, I write in my chapter about my first principalship on the west side of Baltimore City. I describe, albeit briefly, how I was assigned to lead a school that was designated as “persistently dangerous” by the Maryland State Department of Education, which in hindsight is a term laden with anti-Black ideology. Being my first time leading a school, I was ill-equipped to lead with an equity lens then and unfortunately adopted a zero-tolerance philosophy of discipline. Because of these pressures imposed by state and federal reform policies, I failed too many students that year by deeming them unworthy of second, third, and fourth chances because I was too caught up in getting off of a list that again put labels – deficit labels – on schools that were predominately filled with Black bodies (Lance, 2021). I have experienced highs and lows. I understand the challenges all of us are facing in our classrooms. I acknowledge we must work together to build a more equitable school system that loves children for who they are regardless of their background and break away from this ridiculous accountability experiment. Most of you probably can say the same. Do not be fooled by the yellow dress-for my pain is deep yet my fire remains lit!

So, when I ask “Who is staying?” I am speaking directly to those who acknowledge where they have failed our children and yet are unwavering in their determination to begin again, in support of our children. I am speaking to those who want to liberate our children, who want to be an abolitionist. “To begin the work of abolitionist teaching and fighting for justice, the idea of mattering is essential in that you must matter enough to yourself, to your students, and to your students’ community to fight” (Love, 2019, p. 2). While I am no longer a classroom teacher, that does not make my fight and struggles less or more than yours. Instead, it means I am still in the arena – fighting like so many others regardless of title or location. Individuals like Gloria Ladson-Billings, Pedro Noguera, Chris Emdin, Bettina Love, Shaun Harper, Tyrone Howard, Dena Simmons, Terri Watson, Yolanda Sealey-Ruiz. Individuals like school administrators, school counselors, bus drivers, cafeteria workers, maintenance staff, school superintendents, board members, and so many others.

The past few days I reflected on the words by my fellow New Yorker, Dr. Chris Emdin. In his most recently published book, Ratchetdemic-Reimaging Academic Success, Dr. Emdin contends,

“For those who choose teaching as a career, their genius is awakened every day of their professional lives. The daily practice of ingenuity, flexibility, creativity, and patience is the formula for awakening genius. For those who once taught, even after they no longer work every day in classrooms, the recognition of and reverence for the genius of teaching allows them to access their genius in their present work” (2021, p. 9).

Finally, I acknowledge that Twitter and all other social media platforms for which I post my thoughts, ideas, and questions, leave me open to criticism. The post from March 2nd reminded me not only of the ugliness of people who disagree with you, but also of the ability to hurl insults and hide behind those supposed happy thumbs. Yet, I find comfort in knowing that courage and truth, as well as love and support for each other, will always prevail. We must tend to our own seared scars as well as those others are still healing from, and we must build coalitions to help each other, and our children find liberation. I have earned my stripes, and I will keep fighting for a better system for all of our children. Still, do not be fooled by the yellow dress!



Emdin, C. (2021). Ratchetdemic-Reimagining Academic Success. Beacon Press.

Garvins, J. (2021). Fugitive Pedagogy-Carter G. Woodson and the Art of Black Teaching. Harvard University Press.

Lance, T. (2021). How Does My Social Justice and Equity Experience or View Impact My Ability to Lead as an African American Principal? In I.C. Carrier & A.J. Griffen (Eds.), Fighting the Good Fight-Narratives of the African American Principalship (140). Word and Deed Publishing.

Love, Bettina (2020). We want to do more than survive: Abolitionist teaching and the pursuit of educational freedom. Beacon Press.

You said you’re about equity, but are you really?

Upon my appointment as a school superintendent, more than three-years ago, my family and I relocated from Colorado. Last week, however, I marked my one-year anniversary as the Assistant Superintendent of Equity and Innovation. Although I am not serving in the position that marked my move to Illinois, my steadfast belief in serving and advocating for children and adults who continue to be marginalized is stronger than ever. Perhaps one day I will shed more insight into the decision to leave that post. Regardless of the reason for my professional career move, however, I am reminded constantly that growth is not linear. I hope those of you contemplating similar career moves hear me loud and clear…growth is not linear. #FocusForward

Consequently, I must admit that although I started this new position in the midst of a global pandemic, nothing moved at a snail’s pace. As a matter of fact, I had to hit the ground running not because there were glaring inequities for me to “fix”, but the learning curve was steep. From learning the nuances of a new district to ensuring my work was value added, I  tried to remain tempered in my approach as the newest member of the team. Peeling back the layers of any organization to reveal the under belly is never pleasant. 

Not sure what led folks to reach out to me, but since my time in this new role, I have been asked to participate on more panels focusing on equity than I can count; some offers I accepted and others I respectfully declined. Due to the number of newly appointed school and district level leaders, the purpose of today’s blog is to share my learnings around diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) efforts. Some of my learnings are a result of personal experiences and others from readings and connecting with other DEI folx in the field. Therefore, school and district leaders, it is my hope that you will consider reading my latest blog to gain insights as you begin or revisit the equity work in your school/district. 

Not listed in any order of importance, here are a few considerations:

Strongly EncouragedRationale
The appointment must be a cabinet level positionWhen confronting issues specific to race and equity, it is important that leaders get close to the work. Consequently, when the “equity appointed” person is situated off to the side in another department, leaders tend to forget the intent. It is imperative that your DEI person sit on Cabinet to remove the invisible layers that inadvertently surface between the Superintendent, other senior level leaders, and the work. The proximate level of work allows for increased dialogue, root cause analysis, and long-term problem solving.
Create a direct line to the SuperintendentWhen the appointed person reports directly to the Superintendent, it communicates that the appointment is not perfunctory and hopefully, the superintendent is committed to hearing and learning first-hand the strengths and opportunities to correct inequities first-hand. 
Avoid *Spray and Pray Equity Professional development sessions that are often provided once will never change deeply entrenched practices and mindsets. Instead, everyone in the organization must spend a considerable amount of time analyzing data, while centering student voice. Student voice will either confirm what the data is telling you or send you down another path that will require second-order change and possibly a change of venue for some adults. Be prepared for both.
Allocate a robust budgetWhether the work includes his/her/their professional learning or to provide resources and support for ongoing equity work, an appointed equity leader should never have to go elsewhere to request monies to do the work. Additionally, a robust budget is one of many ways a district leader can communicate the seriousness to the work. 
Refrain from *siloing equity“Siloing equity leads us to believe that equity is separate from instruction, which is separate from culture, which is separate from every other aspect of student experience and learning” (p.34). The equity officer will and should touch every facet of an organization, including curriculum and instruction, human resources, and special education just to name a few.
Refrain from *tokenizing equityRefrain from appointing a leader of Color and then leaving that person to be the lone ranger of doing the work. This is even more important in schools and districts that are predominately White. Rather, make sure everyone knows that the work of equity is on the shoulders of every single individual within the organization.

This aforementioned list is not all inclusive, but is a start. I would also suggest that every reader engage in introspection, reflect on your biases and privilege. How have you contributed to unjust practices, intentional or not? Now, what will you do to steer the ship toward justice? These questions are but two that require personal analysis, but might also serve as talking chips within your leadership team. As I shared several tweets ago-you talked about equity in your interview; you even indicated in some fashion that you were committed to equity. Now is the time to put those words to action. No more idleness, standing on the sidelines while Black and Brown folks take the brunt of criticism and endure racial battle fatigue. Hold onto the pole and if you do not know what that means…start here.

I’ll end with an excerpt from Audre Lorde’s book, Your Silence Will Not Protect You, with the hope that the possibility of fear lodged in your throat does not paralyze you to action.

“And of course I am afraid, because the transformation of silence into language and action is an act of self-revelation, and that always seems fraught with danger…if you remain silent, because there’s always that one little piece inside you that wants to be spoken out, and if you keep ignoring it, it gets madder and madder and hotter and hotter, and if you don’t speak it out one day it will just up and punch you in the mouth from the inside” (p.3).


Safir, S. & Dugan, J. (2021). Street Data-A Next-Generation Model for Equity, Pedagogy, and School Transformation. Thousand Oaks, CA. Corwin and Learning Forward.

Beyond the Impasse

On Wednesday, January 20, 2021, two days after honoring the late Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., we will inaugurate our 46th President of the United States, Mr. Joseph R. Biden. President-Elect Biden’s inauguration continues a long-standing tradition dating back to 1789 with the first President, George Washington, taking office. The inauguration ceremony is met with a great deal of grandeur and celebration. There are, of course, intense security precautions to protect those in attendance, but more importantly, to protect the incoming president.  This year, however, the security measures are even greater due to the weeks leading up to this momentous occasion that touted lies of election fraud and culminated with an insurrection that occurred on January 6, 2021. The Insurrection. Who’s culpable in this insurrection? I think and pull up The Impasse of Race Relations, a speech given to the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation by the late Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. who when referencing the “ghetto outbreaks”, quoted poet and author, Victor Hugo. Hugo said, “If the soul is left in darkness, sins will be committed. The guilty one is not he who commits the sin, but the one who causes the darkness.” Again, I pose the question, who is culpable? The White Supremacists or the ones who enabled their actions?

Before I proceed, let me preface this by saying that I will make every effort to craft a message that sets aside my personal political affiliations and instead, share why tomorrow is a crucial turning point for America and more importantly share resources you may turn to as you help ease potential fears and anxiety gripping our nation. For  school district leaders wrestling with what to write to members of your community and/or staff members, I imagine you are not alone. Politics are most always aligned to one’s beliefs and values. Therefore, tempering your words as not to alienate and offend the losing party is probably a delicate balance. Yet, there is an opportunity to address your community and staff with a written statement, followed by explicit actions, that align to your personal convictions. Convictions that I strongly hope indicate your immense desire to undo a legacy of long-standing ill practices that have stood to harm communities of Color and Black girls and women, more specifically. 

Back to a crucial turning point. This presidential election revealed the deep political and racial divide in America from the events in Charlottesville, Virginia to the insurrection at the Capitol in Washington, D.C.  When staff and students return to school, they will undoubtedly have mixed emotions. Those who voted for President-Elect Joe Biden and Vice-President Elect Kamala Harris and those who did not will have very different emotions. What’s important is how those feelings show up in front of students. Therefore, I suggest we use the outcome of the 2020 election as a moment to explicitly acknowledge the racial divide in our country and how race and gender intersected before, during, and even after this election outcome. 

My children know the work I engage in is specific to addressing inequities, so I think about two questions when I talk to them about the election and its subsequent outcome:  What policies and/or practices are Mr. Biden committing to employing to eradicate racial injustices? What prejudices and obstacles did Ms. Kamala Harris have to overcome to stand as the first woman of Color to serve as the Vice-President? I am intentional with engaging my children in these conversations about race and racism because I want them to have an awareness when they see it and the tools to counter it when the effects run counter to how they are being raised. Our district and school leaders’ as well as teachers’ approach might look different from the conversations around race in our home, but the goal should still be the same. Be honest; be kind; and leave space for reflection and dialogue. 

There are a few organizations that provide suggestions for how we might engage in these conversations in the classroom. I particularly appreciate how lessons on the website, Facing History and Ourselves asks teachers to provide space for students to reflect on questions that are three-pronged; each question should have responses that poke at the head, heart, and conscience. We would do ourselves a favor if we engage in the same practice. Consider the questions below when thinking about the events leading up to Wednesday’s inauguration before walking into the district office, school, or classroom: 

  1. Head: What led to the election of President-Elect, Joe Biden and Vice-President Elect, Kamala Harris? What additional facts or information would you like to have?
  2. Heart: How do you feel about their inauguration?  Are there specific events or images that resonate strongly for you?
  3. Conscience: What do you believe was at stake if the presidential election had a different outcome? Would the students you teach agree with your assertion? 

Below are just a few of the sites staff might consider when thinking about how to create and embed race conscious lessons in the classroom include: 

If you are still struggling with what to say, think of the message you send when you say nothing. As Audre Lorde said, “Your silence will not protect you.” Lorde, in speaking of revolution, also said, “…it is not a one time event. It is becoming always vigilant for the smallest opportunity to make a genuine change…” Considering both of these quotes, I contend that if you are learning to become an anti-racist and you genuinely want to see America change for the better, then start by using your existing platform to create spaces for students and staff to reflect on experiences from the head, heart, and conscious. 

Lead boldly; we are all watching. 

Do You Really See Me?

The last time I visited a classroom, where instruction was occurring, was in March. I was overly excited at the prospect of “seeing” students again. So, about two weeks ago, I had the opportunity to visit my first class, albeit virtually, in my new role. Once the teacher “admitted” me, I was instantly dismayed at seeing 20-plus dark squares. The teacher, who must have been slightly embarrassed, asked the students to turn on their video cameras; I shared that it was okay if the students opted not to turn them on. I was a stranger to them. They did not know me, and I did not know them. Fortunately, there were a few video cameras on, including the teacher’s webcam. Awkward? Yes, it was very awkward talking to dark squares and a few inquisitive looks, but I felt strongly that if I just talked about who I was, why I was here, and my enthusiasm for wanting to be with them in that moment, some would turn on their cameras. And, they did. One by one, albeit not all of them, students began to turn their video cameras on. As they turned their cameras on, I thanked them and commented on their smiles and how excited I was to see them. I mentioned nothing about their learning space; instead, I focused intently on just listening. I asked how remote learning was going and what, if anything, we could do as a district to improve their remote learning experience. Although zero students talked to me aloud, several used the chat feature to respond to me privately. Fortunately, the teacher allowed me to serve as a co-host, which enabled students to interact privately, if they chose, with me.

This experience propelled me to write down my thoughts. Do we really need video cameras on? Why? And, for whom? In that moment of visiting that particular teacher’s classroom, I wanted video cameras on. I still want cameras on, but as I reflect on that experience, I am convinced I wanted the video cameras on for selfish reasons. I wanted to see the faces of every single student because I missed seeing students. Period-no fancy excuse and no educational explanation. I have heard and read the arguments that video-cameras on allow teachers to monitor student engagement. How so? The word engagement is ubiquitous and ambiguous. Engagement to you, unless clearly defined, may look entirely different to me. When students were physically present in your classroom, how did you monitor engagement? I assume, although I could be wrong, some teachers monitored engagement through frequent checks for understanding such as: whiteboards, thumbs up, turn and talk, small groups, etc. I posit that these aforementioned checks for understanding are still viable options given the learning platform your district uses. However, by mandating that our students turn their video cameras on, to what extent are we invading their space? I think about the plethora of meetings via Zoom, Go To Meeting, Google Hangout, etc and the countless guests who have entered my home. More than half may have never received an invite had Covid-19 not made its debut because we do not know each other and quite frankly, I just do not invite anyone over to me and my family’s home. Thus, I am intentional about the space I allow folks to see. I can do that. If I want to use a green screen to prevent unwanted guests from entering, I can do that too. If I choose to, I can limit their view to one area that is less intrusive. I bet many of you do the same. Our students may not have the options we have.

Might I also suggest that video cameras on allow for increased surveillance? Consider three separate incidences out of Colorado, Louisiana, and New Jersey where a teacher observed what he/she/they thought was a gun sitting in a student’s learning space. In each case, the students were African American and two of the three students were suspended from school although the “guns” were confirmed to be toy guns (Elfrink, 2020). Without knowing what the teacher actually saw to prompt him/her/they to make the call, I can admit that I might have notified school officials as well; however, this begs the question, what are we paying attention to? A case study out of a North Carolina school system included students’ thoughts on school surveillance, which I apply to classroom surveillance. When students know you are possibly watching their every move and learning space, “it may have the effect of inducing passivity…they are less likely to develop into people who believe they can and do own and control their thoughts and actions” (as cited by Fedders, 2019, p. 1711).

How might we help teachers with the realization that students just might not want to turn on their video cameras yet? We might claim we need cameras on because we do not know if our students are “present” or engaged. Well, newsflash, some of our students were right in front of us before March and were not “engaged.” Let’s consider how “engaged” our students were pre-Covid-19. According to the U.S. Department of Education (2019), the average national reading score for 8th graders as measured by the 2019 National Assessment of Educational Progress (NAEP) was 262. For the students of Illinois, the scale broke out as follows: White students-274, Black students-246, Latinx students-255, Asian students-290, and for students who identified as having two or more races-263. Notice the disparity? I recognize this is only one measurement, but this disparity shows up in other areas as well. Just four years ago, the number of schools, in Illinois, reported as having extreme, high, or significant chronic student absenteeism stood at more than 2,000 schools (Chang, Bauer, & Byrnes, 2018). Taken further, during the 2018-2019 school year, 31% and 24% of African American and Indigenous students respectfully were chronically absent compared to 13% of White students (ISBE, 2019). Other disparities, when disaggregated further, show up in grade point averages, access to more rigorous and challenging course work, and the like. The point I would illustrate is that let us not tout that cameras on will change the current landscape. Rather, let’s admit we miss our students and we want to see them. I believe this confession may fare better than any mandate requiring students to turn on their video cameras.

A recent post in Edutopia explored the value of a camera-option policy, which was similarly titled (Venet, 2020). Thus, school districts might consider a camera option policy as a viable solution. Without clear expectations, teachers may arbitrarily develop and enforce rules that only harm students. As an example, my high schooler has six teachers and of the six, three teachers deduct points if students do not have their video cameras on. When discussing video cameras during distance learning, one student stated, “My room is my private space. I don’t like having my camera on and people being able to look at it and judge my posters or how messy or clean it is” (Johnson, 2020). Full disclosure, because I believe my children’s teachers and peers might videoscope, we are deliberate about the space they use and what is visible to the “guests”. At one point, I had my oldest daughter sit in front of a row of books where one might infer the types of conversations occurring in our home. These books ranged from, The Color of Law: A Forgotten History of How Our Government Segregated America by Richard Rothstein to The Warmth of Other Suns by Isabel Wilkerson. Again, we have options and we elect to have our children turn their video-cameras on. I’ll say it again, we have options and therefore, we choose to have our children turn on their video-cameras. If your students turn on their cameras, will you really see them? Will you see them for who they are and the potential they possess? Will the learning and relationship outcomes change for the better?

In closing, how might we, then, reimage teaching and learning in an environment that does not resemble what we’ve grown unaccustomed to? This is the million-dollar question and one that I, like many others, are grappling with. To assist me and perhaps you, I would bring your attention to the Learning Policy Institute. Here, Linda Darling-Hammond and her colleagues provide 10-priorities to guide us as we think about reinventing schools during the time of Covid-19. All 10 are critical, but because I was fortunate to have just led a professional development session on culturally responsive teaching, I encourage teachers and school officials to begin with priorities four and six. These two priorities emphasize providing supports for social and emotional wellness and emphasizing authentic and culturally responsive teaching (Darling-Hammond, L., Schachner, A., & Edgerton, A. K. (with Badrinarayan, A., Cardichon, J., Cookson, P. W., Jr., Griffith, M., Klevan, S., Maier, A., Martinez, M., Melnick, H., Truong, N., Wojcikiewicz, S.), 2020.

I get it. I want to see students as much as the next person, but I also get that this level of intrusiveness does not, in and of itself, revert to positive student outcomes without first creating trusting and inclusive learning environments. Thus, the abdication of a student’s private space is something I believe we should avoid. The loss of freedom and self-expression is something our Black and Brown children know all too well, already.


Chang, B. (2018, Septmber). Data Matters: Using Chronic Absence to Accelerate Action for Student Success. Retrieved from Attendance Works: http://www.attendanceworks.org

Darling-Hammond, L., Schachner, A., & Edgerton, A. K. (with Badrinarayan, A., Cardichon, J., Cookson, P. W., Jr., Griffith, M., Klevan, S., Maier, A., Martinez, M., Melnick, H., Truong, N., Wojcikiewicz, S.). (2020). Restarting and reinventing school: Learning in the time of COVID and beyond. Palo Alto, CA: Learning Policy Institute.

Elfrink, T. (2020, September 25). A teacher saw a BB gun in a 9-year-old’s room during online class. He faced expulsion. Retrieved from The Washington Post on: https://www.washingtonpost.com/nation/2020/09/25/louisiana-student-bbgun-expulsion/

Fedders, B. (2019, September). The Constant and Expanding Classsroom: Surveillance in K-12 Public Schools. North Carolina Law Review, 97(6), 1673+

Johnson, S. (2020, August, 26). On or off? California schools weigh webcam concerns during distance learning. Retrieved from EdSource: https://edsource.org/2020/on-or-off-california-schools-weigh-webcam-concerns-during-distance-learning/638984

Illinois State Department of Education. (2019). Chronic Absenteeism. Retrieved from Illinois Rport Card 2018-2019: http://www.illinoisreportcard.com

U.S. Department of Education, Institute of Education Sciences, National Center for Education Statistics, National Assessment of Educational Progress (NAEP), 2019 Reading Assessment.

Venet, A. S. (2020, September 24). The Value of a Camera-Optional Policy. Retrieved from Edutopia: http://www.edutopia.org/article/value-camera-optional-policy

Photo by RF._.studio on Pexels.com

It’s Now or Never

Photo by lalesh aldarwish on Pexels.com

My heart aches. My heart has ached for quite some time now. Perhaps the ache is a combination of my personal trials as a Black woman who identifies with the LGBTQ community coupled with the continued senseless killings of Black people at the hands of police. Take the latest headline as an example; the latest headline depicts the most heinous killing, in broad daylight, of Mr. George Floyd by one callous police officer. This despicable murder is not numbing as others may have been; instead, the murder of Mr. George Floyd has sparked a nation-wide rage that is long overdue.

I have witnessed and experienced enough of my own trauma and devastation to last a lifetime. From a virus (Covid-19), that knows no boundaries to the lasting consequences of slavery from over 400-years ago. Yet, today my heart aches more.

Across the country, I see inequities play out in school systems that often leave our children feeling hopeless. Manifested in that hopelessness are often actions some would label as thuggish as several protests have left businesses burned down, workers once again unemployed and incessant violence throughout some of our most segregated communities. I do not promote violence and will not excuse many of the images that I, like you, have observed on television. I also know we, as a Black people, are not the only ones to blame for the damages left behind, but this conversation is for another day.  How easy it is to name what you see on television, displayed on the front pages of newspapers, or circulating on social media as thuggish? It is easy to use derogatory names, such as thugs, when blaming one group of people when you cannot relate to the immense pain of a people.  Consider the words of the great civil rights’ leader, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., who said, “Riots are the voices of the unheard.” Again, I am not purporting that hurt people should hurt people. Yet, how many sat in silence as the inequities piled high?

So, where did this rage come from? I contend this is not a rage from one incident- in particular the killing of Mr. George Floyd. Rather, this rage is a culmination of injustices in every area of a Black person’s life. Consider food insecurities; consider lack to proper health care; consider health disparities, housing disparities, job disparities, transportation disparities, wealth disparities, and education disparities. Consider all of it. When you consider the enormous amount of disparities playing out in every area of one’s life that prevented the opportunity to build and maintain quality of life, perhaps you begin to realize the unheard refused to be unheard any longer.

Where, in actuality, does equality exist aside from words on a paper? Keep pondering. I have not found it yet. Sure, you might say well look at you, Teresa. And, yes, I may have risen to the ranks of a school superintendent and earned three additional initials behind my name, but I can attest none of this mattered when I was asked, in its most subtle and sometimes not subtle form asked, to turn a blind eye to injustice. I could continue to write on this issue alone, but I will save this for another story.

I am happy, albeit tempered, at the outpouring of statements coming from Superintendents and school boards across the country denouncing racism. Those statements alone, however, do not spark action. I am concerned that normality will set in again. The storm will pass and all will revert to normal.

Nevertheless, I am pleading with each of you who may feel so inclined to act. Fight the urge to crawl back into your safe space. Now is the time to fight like hell knowing you will put everything on the line, including yourself. What does this look like in practice? For starters, let me preface by saying I am not an expert on this work. Therefore, I will speak from my readings, prior and current experiences, and downright common sense.

First, if you have issued a statement on behalf of yourself and/or school district, good! That is a good start. Now, go back and re-read your statement. Is it soft around the edges? If it does not actually embed words such as racism, Black, privilege, next steps, then write another statement.  Next, continue these series of non-exhaustive steps:

  • Read books by Black authors. I get that White Fragility is the craze right now, so go ahead and read that too. However, I want you to read books that will challenge your thinking and build your capacity to engage in this work at a much deeper level. Here are a just a few authors and recommended texts to consider:
    • James Baldwin- The Fire Next Time
    • Prudence L.  Carter- Stubborn Roots: Race, Culture, and Inequality in U.S. and South African Schools
    • Lisa Delpit-Other People’s Children
    • John Diamond & Amanda Lewis (White)-Despite the Best Intentions: How Racial Inequality Thrives in Good Schools
    • Geneva Gay- Culturally Responsive Teaching: Theory, Research, & Practice
    • Ibram X. Kendi-How to Be an Antiracist
    • Gloria Ladson-Billings- The Dreamkeepers: Successful Teachers of African American Children
    • Audre Lorde-Your Silence Will Not Protect You
    • H. Richard Milner IV- Start Where You Are, But Don’t Stay There: Understanding Diversity, Opportunity Gaps, and Teaching in Today’s Classrooms
    • Dr. Beverly Tatum-Why Are All the Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria?
  • Immerse yourself in spaces where you can talk honestly and openly about your learnings with others who are on the journey with you. Include ‘us’ to challenge, affirm, and encourage you on your learning journey.
  • Share your learnings, including authors and books, with others in your realm of influence.
  • Review every single district policy for areas of weakness that intentionally or unintentionally perpetuate inequities. Then, challenge your Board to revise them all.
  • Align fragmented policies and practices that lean adult-centered rather than student-centered.
  • Make sure ‘we’ are at the table in your decision making process.
  • Review every curriculum document, including texts. Look for when and how people of Color show up in these places. How often? When? For how long?
  • Review your hiring practices. If your district is staffed primarily with White folk, regardless of student demographics, ask-how do I actively recruit to diversify staff? Where do I go (ex. HBCUs)? How will I support staff of Color?
  • Review disciplinary infraction data. Who is referred to the office? Who is suspended? By who? How often? For what? Put a name, better yet, put your name next to every student suspended. Rings differently.
  • Do your disciplinary policies inadvertently target Black students? (ex. durags vs. leggings)
  • Examine evaluations and classroom observation data. Is everyone rated proficient yet Black and Brown students are still failing at disproportionate rates?
  • Examine student tasks. Are they culturally and cognitively challenging for everyone?
  • Examine your guidance department. Do we appear in pictures around the offices? Are HBCU pennants displayed?

Again, the aforementioned list of actionable steps are not intended to be all-inclusive, but I hope they give you some concrete places to start.

Finally, I am a Black woman, mother, wife, daughter, sister, niece, cousin and friend. These tags mean I am someone and someone’s someone. These past two years of sitting in the superintendent seat have awakened a fire in my spirit that lay dormant for far too long; I imagine an inner unrest. This unrest has stirred in me a desire to do more. From the oppressive behaviors of White people, policies, and practices, the lasting consequences are evident. It is time for everyone to heed the call, move to action, and from where you are, recognize as my pastor so eloquently articulated, receive that your calling is birthed out of crisis. Let’s go!

Photo by ksh2000 on Pexels.com