Theory Fuels Action - Moving from a Noun to a Verb

 I just finished reading We Want to do More Than Survive: Abolitionist Teaching and the Pursuit of Educational Freedom by Bettina L. Love. This was such a powerful book that really helped me understand my own emotions as I have started to gain more of an awareness about antiracism and how it functions, especially in education. I've been doing a lot of reading this summer, and this book helped me realize that reading is necessary in order to help fuel the action I will need to take as we head back for another school year. In Dr. Love's words, “Theory does not solve issues - only action and solidarity can do that - but theory gives you language to fight, knowledge to stand on, and a humbling reality of what intersectional social justice is up against. Theory lets us size up our opponent, systemic injustice” (132). In reading and reflecting on this work, I have realized two important points: 1. for too long, I simply accepted the latest "gimmick" or "initiative" that was brought forward in education; and 2. part of why I have resisted work around anti-oppression is not only fear of White rage, but also the feelings of guilt that have come from going against Whiteness. 

I have been an educator for close to 20 years now. I spent much of that time blindly accepting new initiatives that were brought forward and assumed that they were in the best interest of students. One such "gimmick" was the concept of grit that was introduced years ago. We were not only asked to read about it, but we had professional learning sessions where we were told that students needed to "pull themselves up by their bootstraps" and "work a little harder", and that all this struggle would help them in the end. This was introduced to me at a time when I was striving to be a "model minority", and questioning anything brought forward by the education system was not something I was encouraged to do. After all, that wouldn't make people feel good and wouldn't help get me ahead. Dr. Love's book helped me see that “Measuring dark students’ grit while removing no institutional barriers is education’s version of The Hunger Games. It is adults overseeing which dark children can beat the odds, odds put in place and maintained by an oppressive system” (73). In fact, “Dark students being gritty, full of excitement and energy, reciting self-improvement statements, and displaying social and emotional intelligence does not stop them from being killed in the streets or spirit-murdered in the classroom; these are their odds” (73). This was not something that was brought up in the training. In the past few years, as I have been learning more about systems of oppression, I have realized that sometimes, especially for students in marginalized communities, the grit it takes for them to get to school each day is often more than many privileged students go through in an entire day. This is where I had to do some of my own learning. 

In reading and learning more about theory, I have realized that “Teachers need to be taught how to question Whiteness and White supremacy, how to check and deal with their White emotions of guilt and anger, and how these all impact their classrooms. Only after unpacking and interrogating Whiteness, White teachers - and, really, all teachers - must unpack how Whiteness functions in their lives; then they can stand in solidarity with their students’ communities for social change” (75). I have seen some of the barriers that have been systemically put in place to keep Black and Indigenous people down in society. Dr. Love also helped me understand that “It is not that dark children do not have grit and zest, but they need educators and their communities to protect it, not measure it” (86). Our job as educators should be to remove some of the systemic barriers that are in place for students, especially in systems of education. We have to "move beyond feel-good language and gimmicks" (13) that many educators are told are important and really focus in on helping students. 

Something like character education, for example, is another initiative that I blindly accepted, and only now, after reading Dr. Love's work, do I see the problems with that: “At face value, character education seems harmless, and I am sure we can all agree that children need good qualities to be successful in life, regardless of how you define success, but character education is anti-Black and it has replaced civics education in our schools... [but] Our students are now taught with the world crumbling around them to pay their taxes, vote, volunteer, and have good character, which is code for comply, comply, comply. Dark children are told that their good character is dependent on how they must obey” (70). When students do not "obey" in schools, they often find themselves in trouble: “For too many, suspension is a birthright of being young and Black...Black girls are branded ‘disruptive’ or ‘defiant’ by their teachers, then expelled or suspended because of such subjective labels...Black girls never get to be girls, a phenomenon [Monique W. Morris] describes as ‘age compression,’ in which Black girls are seen as Black women, with all the stereotypes that go along with Black womanhood (e.g., hypersexual, loud, rude, and aggressive)” (5). I see this far too often with students who are sent to the office for minor infractions; I see this with students who are targeted by staff in the halls of schools. It has been said that Black students are both invisible and hyper-visible in schools at the same time. When I reflected on this, I realized that Black students are often invisible in their classrooms and pushed out into the halls by teachers where they all of a sudden become hyper-visible and are thought to be up to no good. 

They are being loud, so they are not being "respectful". 

They are out of class, so they are not being "responsible". 

They do not answer questions about where they should be, so they are not being "honest". 

They are "wandering the halls", so they are not being "cooperative".

The list of so-called "character" violations goes on and on. Ultimately, there are many issues with character education in general, and it is not something I will continue to blindly accept. Again, as Dr. Love states, “At face value, character education seems harmless" but it is often too closely linked to concepts of Whiteness and, thus, anti-Blackness. 

The second important point that Dr. Love's work helped me understand is the concept of White rage. I was not familiar with this term before, but now that I am, I not only see why work around anti-Black racism incites so much anger within many White people, but I also see why I resisted this work for so long. In the past, I did not really want to upset anyone, so I tended to steer away from conversations around racism. Now that I have moved away from being a "model minority", I am more comfortable having these conversations, but I still feel myself tremble a little inside when I face White rage. I recently had a conversation with a neighbour about how I felt much of the disrespect he showed me was rooted in racism. His rage and defensiveness was immediate and powerful. So powerful, in fact, that I began to feel guilty about bringing it up. Dr. Love writes, “Whiteness cannot enter spaces focused on abolitionist teaching. Whiteness is addicted to centering itself, addicted to attention, and making everyone feel guilty for working toward its elimination” (159). Because I challenged Whiteness in this case, and felt the White rage, I began to think that perhaps this was my fault and I should feel guilty. This is how powerful Whiteness is - you feel guilty for speaking up for yourself! 

This is a small example from my own life, and when I think about how this compares to what people in Black communities face each day, I am reminded of when Dr. Love writes, “Carol Anderson...argues… ‘The trigger of White rage, inevitably, is Black advancement. It is not the mere presence of Black people that is the problem; rather it is Blackness with ambition, with drive, with purpose, with aspirations, and with demands for full and equal citizenship’” (23). This is when I remember how much work we still have left to do in education. This work, however, is contingent on people accepting the issues in education: “As educators, we must accept that schools are spaces of Whiteness, White rage, and disempowerment. We cannot fall into narratives of racial progress that romanticize ‘how far we’ve come’ or suggest that success comes from darks being more like Whites” (40). This work is also contingent on people moving beyond ally-ship as “Ally-ship is performative or self-glorifying...A coconspirator functions as a verb, not a noun” (117). 

There is work to be done in education. There is action to be taken in education. We must resist blindly accepting new initiatives that are rooted in anti-Blackness. We must resist White rage and the guilty feelings that may come from that resistance. We must resist becoming complacent in our work around equity. We must resist thinking that because we are going back to school during a pandemic, this work must be put on hold. We must move toward being an abolitionist teacher/educator. We must move toward accepting that “Being an abolitionist means you are ready to lose something, you are ready to let go of your privilege, you are ready to be in solidarity with dark people by recognizing your Whiteness in dark spaces...and you understand that your White privilege [or any privilege for that matter] allows you to take risks that dark people cannot take in the fight for educational justice” (159). 

Hidden Histories of Anti-Blackness in Canada

As part of my continued summer reading and learning, I just finished reading Policing Black Lives by Robyn Maynard, and I feel like my eyes have been opened to an entire history that I didn’t know existed. In fact, one of my first emotions was anger: how could I, a person with a degree in History, not know so much of what Maynard writes about in relation to Black lives in Canadian history? But then I realized that this is how strong settler colonialism operates: you only learn what they want you to learn. If you want to learn more, you have to actively seek it out: “Few who do not study Black Canadian history are aware that dominant narratives linking crime and Blackness date back at least to the era of the transatlantic slave trade, and that Black persons were disproportionately subject to arrest for violence, drugs and prostitution-related offences throughout Canada as early as the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries” (4). I also realized that this is one of the reasons why work around anti-racism has been so slow-moving: when people don’t know about the true histories of Canada, they think that terms like “whiteness” are offensive (this actually happened in a discussion I was part of, but that may be for another blog post). One of my friends helped me realize recently that unless we actively learn more about anti-racism, we believe that we live in an accepting multicultural society. I know that this is where my mindset was for a number of years. I believed that not only was Canada accepting of everyone, but that everyone had equal chances. I no longer believe this as I have learned more about the true history of Canada, and how these histories manifest themselves in our education system. Maynard’s work continued to help me with this understanding.

To begin, there are a number of misconceptions that I believe people, especially educators, need to come to terms with if they are going to truly engage in work around anti-racism, specifically, anti-Black racism. Many people who took courses in Canadian history heard the stories of slaves in the U.S. escaping to Canada through the Underground Railroad, and then making the false equivalent to think that Canada has always been accepting of everyone. In fact, “Slavery was practised in Canada for over two hundred years. Yet, the realities of Canadian slavery and the hostility enacted upon Black populations in Canada are not taught in most Canadian schools. Slavery in Canada is a topic that remains under-taught and under-researched, and there is a telltale absence of Black Studies departments in most Canadian universities” (18). If you don’t understand how deeply rooted the practice of slavery was in Canada, you cannot have a concept of how it continues to affect Black communities today: “It is the practice of slavery that set the stage for the subsequent centuries of dehumanization of Black life across Canada. Social amnesia about slavery, as is common in Canada, makes it impossible to understand anti-Black policing in the current epoch” (19). We need to do better in our schools to help our students see the true history of Canada, and how things like whiteness and Blackness are social constructs that were designed as part of settler colonialism: “Cedric Robinson...argues that [Blackness] was invented by Europeans at the advent of the transatlantic slave trade. The construction of the African as a subhuman and bestial life form justified the commodification of Black life and labour that would enrich the nations of Europe for centuries to come” (8). This mindset of Black lives being expendable continues today in society as a whole as well as in our school systems. The opposite to this was whiteness which was also a “politically and socially constructed category, subject to change over time” (32) that helped to elevate white people over Black and Indigenous peoples. The problem is that most people don’t know about these constructs, so when we begin to have conversations about whiteness, people’s white fragility (to use DiAngelo’s term) causes them to become very defensive and they do not want to continue to engage in discussions; however, if people learn more about Canada’s history of anti-Blackness as opposed to multiculturalism, perhaps they will get less defensive.

Most Canadians pride themselves on the multiculturalism of Canada and how much better we are than the United States, and “These factors have led to a discernible lack of awareness surrounding the widespread anti-Blackness that continues to hide in plain sight, obscured behind a nominal commitment to liberalism, multiculturalism and equality” (3). In fact, “anti-Blackness is...widely ignored by most Canadians. When acknowledged, it is assumed to exist, perhaps, but in another time (centuries ago), or in another place (the United States)” (2-3). These policies of multiculturalism, however, were created very strategically - something I didn’t realize until I read through Maynard’s work: “‘Multiculturalism’ was officially adopted as policy in 1971 by Prime Minister Pierre Elliott Trudeau...Yet, the earnest promotion of Canada as a beacon of tolerance at the advent of multiculturalism served to disguise Canada’s brutal and violent history of slavery and colonization, as well as its continuing abuses of Indigenous, Black and other racialized communities” (55). Multiculturalism sounds like a great idea, and makes it seem like Canada is, and has always been, an accepting society. Yet, “along with the Charter of Rights and Freedoms, [multiculturalism] appears to counter past forms of state-based discrimination. This appearance of equality, however, relies on the erasure of the conditions of Black life in Canada’s recent past, as well as its present...It is more accurate to say, perhaps, that Canada has been remarkably effective at hiding the persistent anti-Blackness that has spanned four centuries of Black life” (51). If you’re honest with yourself, as I tried to be while reading through Maynard’s work, I realized that this is exactly the reason why I have a degree in History and knew nothing about Canada’s history of anti-Blackness. The “erasure of the conditions of Black life in Canada’s recent past” has allowed white supremacy and the model minority myth to continue to dominate. Many minorities, myself included, were taught that if you work hard enough and stay out of trouble, Canada will reward you; however, that fails to take into account how prevalent anti-Blackness and anti-Indigeneity are, and have always been in Canada.

This anti-Blackness has manifested itself in Canadian school systems for so many years, that most of us don’t even realize it. When I learned that the last residential school closed in 1996, I was shocked. Through Maynard’s work I learned that “The last segregated school in Canada closed in 1983...The attempt to restrict Black access to quality education also had the effect of keeping Black peoples in positions of economic subordination to Canada’s white population” (34). I also learned about acts that were passed by the government in an attempt to continue to not only keep Black people out of positions of economic advantage, but to criminalize their very existence: “The Act of Union of 1840…[and] the Common Schools Act of 1850...were premised on the association between Blackness and danger. Black children, it was believed, would have a morally corrupting influence on white children. Yet, the uniquely Canadian iteration of segregation took the form of outwardly expressed benevolence. Canadian officials denied the presence of any racial discrimination even as Black students were segregated” (33). By creating a fear of Black bodies, the Canadian government has also been able to justify their hyper-surveillance, something that continues in schools to this day.

Black youth in our schools today are in a very tough spot: “Black youth are, after all, at the intersections of powerlessness: they experience powerlessness inherent to childhood and adolescence combined with that of being a subordinated racial group” (90). They are “often the receptacles of the negative projections of a society mired in the fear of Black bodies” (212). This happens when educators are suspicious of the activity of Black youth in the halls or outside in the playground. This happens when “Black youth continue to be disproportionately streamed into lower education tracks as a result of both individual prejudice and systemic factors” (214). This happens when “Black youth face heightened surveillance and disciplinary measures at massively disproportionate rates compared to their white peers” (217). This happens when “School and security staff often dissuade [Black students] from gathering in groups and subject them to heightened surveillance and frequent identity checks” (217). Because of Canada’s history of anti-Black racism “Black youth are often treated as suspects instead of as the children they are, in the very place where children get socialized and educated” (217). We need to accept that our society was built upon anti-Blackness, and that settler colonialism has done its job so well, that we rarely question it.

Black students facing this type of hyper-surveillance and being treated as suspects, often causes them to disengage from learning; however, this disengagement is a result of racial violence that school systems are built upon: “White-run public schools largely remain a site of racialized violence for many marginalized students...For this reason, many youth disengage from school entirely. While it is frequently referred to as “dropping out,” this language disguises the structural racism both inside and outside of the education system…[and] can more accurately be described as the result of a concerted ‘push-out’” (222). As a result of this, Black youth attempt to find ways to cope or survive: “Black youth continue to apply survival strategies to find ways to navigate exceedingly complex situations. Resistance tactics employed by Black students take many forms…’oppositional behaviours’ including adopting unique dress and language styles that conflict with dominant society, are ways in which Black youth subvert the hegemonic norms being imposed upon them in schools…[as well as] ‘dropping out and the behaviours associated with “fading out” of school (e.g., “truancy,” lack of interest and participation in school, etc.) can be seen as forms of resistance” (226-227). Instead of seeing these as coping strategies, educators often blame the student or parents for their disengagement. They blame “poor attitudes” or “laziness” as the reasons for failure. Yet, how often do educators stop and ask “why?” Why are students coming late to class? Why are students taking extended washroom breaks? Why are students not wanting to get involved in their school? Why are students “misbehaving”? If you are an educator, I encourage you to ask “why” next time one of your students is disengaging. You might be surprised about what you find. I know I have been.

In the end, I believe that all Canadians, especially educators, need to read Maynard’s work. She not only exposes much of what we don’t know, but outlines ways that we can begin to address the issues of anti-Blackness in Canada. For myself, I know that I still have a lot of learning and unlearning left to do. I also know that my actions also have to follow my words here. I need to challenge educators who send Black students to the office for minor issues that would not have a white student sent down. I need to challenge myself in how I consider suspensions as a VP, and, in Kike Ojo-Thompson’s words, “hold myself in healthy distrust” to ensure that I am considering how settler colonialism and anti-Blackness might be altering my decision. I need to challenge my own South Asian community whose notions of anti-Blackness are so deeply rooted in colonialism that they are willing to bleach their skin to not be considered too dark. I need to challenge what students are being taught, or not taught in school because “A history that goes unacknowledged is too often a history that is doomed to be repeated” (4).

Learning to be an Antiracist

I just finished reading a very important book that everyone should read: How to be an Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi. I am an educator, so my reflection here will focus on why this is such an important book for those in education.

As I read through Dr. Kendi’s work, there were a number of important ideas that stuck out to me including his personal reflections that he intersperses throughout. Like Dr. Kendi, I also rejected a number of things about my own culture and colour in an effort to be closer to whiteness. Part of that stemmed from my parents coming from a very colonized country and moving to another colonized one and assimilating into the culture for acceptance, but that is perhaps the subject of another blog post. Throughout my life, my proximity to whiteness seemed natural, and rewarded me both academically and professionally. Only in the last few years have I started openly questioning some of the things in education that seemed wrong. For a long time, I assumed a neutral stance or at least not being racist was enough to help make a difference. Dr. Kendi’s assertion in his book is that “there is no neutrality in the racism struggle. The opposite of ‘racist’ isn’t ‘not racist.’ It is ‘anti-racist’” (9).

Being antiracist is what all educators should strive to be in their classrooms, in their communities and within their spheres of influence. This, however, will not be an easy feat as it will feel like you are going against the grain. The grain is how education systems were set up: within a white Eurocentric cultural standard. As Dr. Kendi states in his work, “Whoever makes the cultural standard makes the cultural hierarchy. The act of making a cultural standard and hierarchy is what creates cultural racism” (83). As educators, in order to become antiracist, we must first accept that education systems are not neutral and they have been set up to be racist.  Education systems were originally designed as a tool of colonialism. They were set up to spread the ways of the colonizer and to denounce all others as wrong, bad or inhuman. In other words, it was meant to show that the race of the colonizer, the white race, was superior to any others. These colonizers thus created the racist policies that govern our school systems today: “Policymakers and policies make societies and institutions, not the other way around” (223). Once educators realize this, they can then move closer to accepting that systems of education have been based on racist policies that were designed to keep Black, Indigenous and other racialized students in their place in the hierarchy: below white students.

     Most educators will also agree that education as a system has not changed very much since its inception. If you look at pictures of a classroom from 1920, it will look very similar to many classrooms of 2020 where there is a teacher at the front of the class, usually a white teacher, instilling knowledge to students who passively listen and accept what is being taught: “Racist ideas have defined our society since its beginning and can feel so natural and obvious as to be banal, but antiracist ideas remain difficult to comprehend, in part because they go against the flow of this country’s history...To be an antiracist is a radical choice in the face of this history, requiring a radical reorientation of our consciousness” (23). Those who choose to see the racism inherent in education and be an antiracist in their actions, will find it difficult as it will seem very unnatural. The colonizers did their job so well, that when any of us go against it, i.e. become antiracist, it seems like we are doing something wrong.

     Now, considering all this history, it may seem impossible to move past these racist ideas and become an antiracist educator; however, there is good news. Dr. Kendi states that, “The good news is that racist and antiracist are not fixed identities. We can be racist one minute and an antiracist the next” (10). So, it is possible to move out of the racist identity that has surrounded education for so long; however, we must listen to the words of Kike Ojo-Thompson who tells us to “hold yourself in healthy distrust. Frequently challenge your own ideas and privilege; remember that equity work is not about perfection, it is a continuous practice” (Ojo-Thompson). What I’ve learned in my own journey is:

   1.  listen and show deference to people like Kike Ojo-Thompson who not only know far more about anti-Blackness and systems of oppression than I do, but she has lived experiences that I will never fully understand.

   2. there is no end point to this journey. I have to examine my sphere of influence and make a difference through my actions and not just my words (yes, I see the irony of writing a blog, but I will be acting on these words moving forward as well)

   3. find critical friends who can hold you accountable. You may not always like what these critical friends have to say, but you have to listen and act if you truly want to make a difference.

     As a Vice-Principal, one of the areas that I need to work on is questioning things like policy. I just finished my second year as a VP, and I started to question things more this year than in my first year where I was just learning the different job elements of a VP. When I first started the job, I was told that “policies and procedures are your friend”, but I no longer believe that. Dr. Kendi helped me realize that, “Moral and educational suasion breathes the assumption that racist minds must be changed before racist policy, ignoring history that says otherwise...To fight for mental and moral changes after policy is changed means fighting alongside growing benefits and the dissipation of fears, making it possible for antiracist power to succeed” (208). In education, we often think that policies are put in place to protect everyone, but we need to start questioning who is being protected, and what they are being protected from. We often focus on students as part of the problem; however, “This is the consistent function of racist ideas - and of any kind of bigotry more broadly: to manipulate us into seeing people as the problem, instead of the policies that ensnare them” (8). We have policies in Boards, like the Police & School Board Protocol that are very problematic and tend to “ensnare” many of our marginalized students, especially Black students. In this policy, the word “criminal” shows up 55 times, and yet people claim that there is no such thing as the school to prison pipeline for Black students. This same policy states “In the event that school staff, while conducting an internal investigation, determines that a criminal offence has been committed, they shall discontinue the investigation and notify police immediately, ensure the involved students are separated, and refrain from further investigation. Any statement(s) taken shall then be turned over to police for purposes of an investigation, if requested” (Police & School Board Protocol 19). As a VP, and more importantly an educator, I have not been trained to determine if “a criminal offence has been committed”. More importantly, that is not why I got into education. I got into education to help students be their very best, and understand that the students I serve are children. When these students are Black children, however, as Dr. Kendi writes, “The Black child is ill-treated like an adult” (48). Administrators, teachers and superintendents too often focus on Black students as being “criminals” in an effort to follow policy. This needs to stop! We need to “focus on power instead of people...focus on changing policy instead of groups of people” (11). Policies like the Police & School Board Policy are just the beginning. We need to ensure that we re-examine all policies in education through an antiracist lens, and ensure that we are calling in our community partners to help us make sure we are serving students to the best of our abilities.

     In the end, in education, we must follow the advice of Dr. Kendi and become antiracist in our approach. We can no longer ignore the racist nature of education. We can no longer ignore the policies that are creating unequal footings for students. We can no longer ignore how the system is criminalizing Black and Indigenous students. We can no longer ignore educators whose “microagressions” are simply let go: “What other people call racial microaggressions I call racist abuse” (47). We need to call people out on their racist abuse in education. We need to call policies out as racist in education. We need to change our curriculum to better serve the needs of marginalized students in education. We need to ensure that those we are hiring better represent the students in education. We need to determine, in the words of Dr. Kendi, “What side of history will we stand on” (22).