For each school day of the 2020-21 school year, I will be writing two sentences to capture some of the impressions, feelings, experiences, or thoughts I had that day. This is the 32nd post in the series.
Monday (May 24) I threw around the idea of accepting (and even encouraging) both English and Spanish responses next year in class. I asked my students how they would feel about it and they were encouraging.
Tuesday (May 25) Debuted the Math Olympics — the fun and games we will end the year with. Received affirmation and inspiration from one of the Spanish teachers on my “Spanish in math class” idea for next year.
Wednesday (May 26) Balanced seven books on my head in eighth period. It could have been eight, and the goal was ten, but a book about the Maya just wouldn’t stay put.
Thursday (May 27) Disappointed at the end of the day when I removed a few students who were non-responsive to my attempts to engage them. I was frustrated based on the lack of engagement from the previous class and didn’t lead with compassion.
Friday (May 28) My cogen finalized our plans for the Math Olympics, which starts next week. My school’s modified “reimagine” plan for for the fall was unveiled and it was overwhelming.
On Wednesday, May 19, several of my colleagues and I went to Ferncliff Cemetery in upstate New York to visit the grave of Malcolm X. It would have been Malcolm’s 96th birthday.
The idea for the visit was birthed after we read The Autobiography of Malcolm X in February. It was part our school’s book/podcast club. Having learned so much about him and discussing his impact, we decided that paying homage to him on his birthday would be a fitting thing to do. Seven of us carpooled and made the 35-minute trip.
While there, we spent some time standing around his grave, reflecting. We shared our learnings, our feelings, our shortcomings. We imagined a world where Malcolm was still alive, still evolving, still advancing his antiracist beliefs. We gave thanks for his truth-telling and revolutionary spirit in the face extreme violence, enraged white supremacy, and death. Living to the meager age of 39, we acknowledged that his life was far too short. We affirmed his gifts to not only to Black Americans, but all Americans. Just like Malcolm, we vowed to keep learning and to be critical of ourselves and the world around us.
While there was a sprinkling of people around us, it felt like we were alone. We had Malcolm all to ourselves. While we talked, he listened. He also told us a few stories and wished us well on our journey. It was powerful. The moment transcended our school, our students, and our professional bonds. I’ve been at my school for five years and it was one of the proudest moments I’ve had as a member of our community.
Admittedly, I didn’t know a lot about Malcolm before we read his autobiography. Reading it was informative on many levels. After we finished it, I wanted more of Malcolm so I picked up Black Minded: The Political Philosophy of Malcolm X by Michael E. Sawyer. I learned of Sawyer and his workafter watching him discuss Malcolm at The Schomburg Center’s The Mother Tongue: The Philosophy of Malcolm X event in February. Black Minded was a dense and challenging read, but really helpful in getting closer to Malcolm and the nucleus of his thinking. I finished it this week, coinciding with our trip to Ferncliff. It left me with a lot more to share and feel than I would have otherwise. The Dead are Arising is on my summer reading list.
Despite living and working so close to his gravesite for many years, most of us didn’t know Malcolm was buried right underneath our noses.How did we not know he was here? Some of us drive past him every day and had no idea. Several people also spoke of the simplicity of his gravesite, expecting something with more grandeur given his stature. When I think of how society blacklisted Malcolm during his life and ostracized him after his death (it took over 30 years for him to get a postagestamp after his death, my gosh), the modesty and obscurity of his gravesite surprised me at first, but not after I gave it a second thought. The stark difference between his grave and that of Martin Luther King, Jr. tells the story.
As we were getting ready to leave, more people began to arrive and a larger community formed. We opened up our circle, they opened up theirs, and suddenly we were speaking with perfect strangers. We were from all walks of life, all there to honor a man who moved us. We shared our connections to Malcolm and filled our hearts with a shared respect for the moment. We’ll probably never see those people again, but our transient companionship couldn’t be denied. They gave us water. We took a picture together. After about 15 minutes, we headed towards our cars. I felt whole.
Though our team departed his grave the same in number, we were far bigger than when we arrived. Thanks, Malcolm.
For each school day of the 2020-21 school year, I will be writing two sentences to capture some of the impressions, feelings, experiences, or thoughts I had that day. This is the 31st post in the series.
Monday (May 17) In 8th period, we shared a cool moment of connection when a student, who is remote but was in school for one day, visited the smears I created in the hallway which represent our figurative children. It’s crazy to think about the levels I’ve gone to to engage my students this year.
Tuesday (May 18) One student who is in person (but still learning remotely because all of our classes are on Zoom), set up his camera and took a shot with a paper ball at the garbage can — he made it on the 2nd try. I did 360 degree jumping jacks in 9th period because of the all the positive energy I received.
Wednesday (May 19) Myself along with six other staff members went to visit the grave of Malcolm X after school at Ferncliff Cemetery. After reading his autobiography with them in February, paying homage to him on his birthday was powerful; it created a unique moment of community amongst our team as well as the others who were present at Ferncliff.
Thursday (May 20) I felt sadness reflecting on my students’ “Your Year in Math Class” drawings. So many of them struggled this year; their hardships were illustrated in lots of different ways.
Friday (May 21) As we explored microaggressions as a staff, there was a charged moment of open conflict at the racial and social justice workshop this afternoon. It was a moment of becoming for our school community that needed to happen.
For each school day of the 2020-21 school year, I will be writing two sentences to capture some of the impressions, feelings, experiences, or thoughts I had that day. This is the 30th post in the series.
Monday (May 10) In first period D-I came on the mic out when she entered Zoom and uttered a pleasant “good morning”; it changed the mood of not only our class, but my entire day. Out of no where, smack in the middle of 5th period, I picked up my laptop, sat next to one of my students in an adjacent room, and co-taught the class with him via Zoom.
Tuesday (May 11) In 5th period we created a short story with each person typing one word in the chat. It was full improv and hilarious; it was about a Cheeto failing off a bed that was eaten by Shrek who thought it tasted like rainbows.
Wednesday (May 12) It wasn’t until the end of first period that I realized we don’t have school tomorrow; for the rest of the day I felt like I had superpowers. Did another one-word story in 5th period; I had some fun 9th period with a random ant named Louie.
Thursday (May 13) No classes — Eid
Friday (May 14) My cogen and I have been planning an end-of-year math olympics for a few weeks now. Today we spoke about which events (games) there will be; it’s exciting to think about the year in a positive way.
lazy 0ch0 