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A young language arts student teacher directed her class to “close your eyes and imagine what your characters might look like.” I was observing her second-ever presentation to one of the classes where she would practice-teach for the next few weeks. “Details are very important in descriptions,” she continued, “but you can’t write about them if you can’t see them. Maybe you want to write about a beautiful young girl. Think about the details. She’d have big blue eyes and long blond hair, and her hands would be slender and delicate.” As she spoke, I watched her seventh-grade students. They represented the lower-middle-class school’s racial and ethnic mix pretty well: About half of them appeared to be Hispanic, almost a third could be considered African-American and the rest looked Caucasian. I didn’t see a blond hair or a blue eye among them. Most also had round, soft bodies.

I recently visited a friend’s preschool classroom. While there, I saw an argument that mirrored my high school students’ conflicts. I walked away curious about the way younger and older students use their words to explain their feelings and the actions of others.

This toolkit accompanies the article “I Am Asian American” and provides professional-development resources to help teachers reflect on their own assumptions and knowledge gaps about Asian Americans and include a variety of Asian American voices in their curricula.

A web exclusive for "Dancing with Languages," from the September 2008 issue of Teaching Tolerance magazine.

Working in an urban high school has many challenges. My first computer graphics class was no exception. The computers were old PCs and the software was a pared-down version of a program that had failed to meet standards of the graphic design industry. My class contained a mix of special education students and youths with a reputation for disrupting classrooms.