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During the fourth week of school, the form came home, stuffed into my daughter’s backpack: Your student scored a XX on his/her DIBELS literacy test, administered this Fall/Summer. Based on this score, your child will be placed in Open Court Level XYZ [with] TEACHER A...

I am a good driver. You’d never know it, given the theatrics of the backseat drivers in my vehicle, whose sudden gasps and quick grasps for the dashboard denote a lack of confidence in my skills. This drama is alternately amusing, annoying and unnecessary. I'm proud to say that, for the most part, my instinctive go-to practice of "when in doubt, step on the gas" has never let me down.

A common misperception in many early childhood environments is the idea that, as one teacher told me, “There’s no diversity in my classroom.” She, and many others, think that a focus on diversity is unnecessary in an apparently homogeneous classroom.

As part of our bedtime routine, I was excited to share a new book with my 4-year-old daughter. My Princess Boy by Cheryl Kilodavis would be our story for the evening. We began, as always, by reading the title and looking at the illustrations.

I broke a toe recently. Woke from a deep sleep, ambled around my apartment for just a few moments and then thump! I hit my foot on a piece of furniture. As I hobbled around in the days that followed, lost in the effort of just getting about, I thought “this is what it must feel like to be old.” And then—“this is what it feels like to have a disability.”

I work as an instructional coach at a large, diverse and underperforming urban public elementary school. Our students are at-risk. Families are struggling with stress and trauma. Teachers work mightily to close the achievement gap. So as I left a third-grade classroom the other day after a check-in with the teacher, I wasn’t surprised when she said, “Wait, can I ask you one more thing?”

Carlisha certainly has her share of challenges. I work with her both in small groups and one-on-one. Sometimes she falls asleep, which she attributes to her diabetes medication. Some faculty members speculate that she is faking because she doesn’t want to do the work.

My eighth-grade girls squealed at the shirtless male movie star photos in a magazine. “Oh my gosh! Check out the abs on this one!” “Yeah,” responded another. “And look at that picture of Taylor Lautner. His face isn’t very good looking, but who cares. Look at those muscles!” This is a typical exchange in my classroom during lunch or before morning meeting. As a teenager, I remember flipping through fashion and celebrity magazines, looking at female models with long legs, luminous skin and perfect hair. They represented what I was supposed to be. Knowing how far away I was from looking like them definitely made me feel ugly. But the magazines were also telling me what kind of guy I should find attractive. Apparently, not much has changed in teenage popular culture.

At a time when the nation’s schools are becoming more segregated, teachers and students across the country have an opportunity to show the rest of the world they’re committed to challenging these boundaries by registering for Teaching Tolerance’s Mix It Up at Lunch Day.