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This middle school history teacher uses complexity—and all the uncertainty that comes along with it—as the starting point for his unit on the Middle East.

How do you encourage colleagues to participate in sustained conversations about justice, equity and tolerance?

The whine of the projector subsides. Someone clicks on the lights. As the professor asks for commentary, the rapid raising of hands signifies an eagerness to respond. I remain still. Listening to my peer’s criticism of the Appalachian people featured in the made-for-TV special, I am humiliated.

At my elementary school in Guatemala last year, soccer fields, basketball courts and baseball diamonds were dominated by boys and a handful of brave, tough girls.

In order to enhance my sixth-graders’ ability to connect personally with topics we read about in class, I assigned a writing assignment. I ask students to make real connections to demonstrate their understanding of the topic. There are three areas of connection. First there’s the connection to their lives, then to another piece of literature and finally—the most sophisticated connection—to the world.

A look at the legacy of Dr. King's ideals.

The e-mail message was direct and devastating. One of our fourth-graders had been killed in a gun accident. “Davius had gone to a friend's house to play and apparently a gun was discharged and the bullet struck him,” my principal wrote. “He died at the scene." I sat in stunned silence. A memory of a story Davius wrote for me in November flashed across my mind.

When you teach this classic text, are your students surprised by the injustice portrayed in it? This teacher’s students aren’t—not anymore.