Search

Slavery never went away, and students need to know how it affects today’s world.

A legal settlement reached in Los Angeles Tuesday could reverberate through schools in low-income neighborhoods across the country. The Board of Education there approved a deal with the American Civil Liberties Union and other groups that would radically limit the practice of laying off teachers based solely on seniority.

Earlier this year, Arizona Gov. Jan Brewer signed HB 2281 into law, making it an offense to teach courses at any grade level that promote resentment towards a race or class of people. The law further states that no classes may be designed for any ethnic group or promote ethnic solidarity. This despite the fact that, according to the U.S. Census, 30 percent of the state is made up of Latinos.

A new third-grader arrives at your school. He is blind. He is autistic. He is developmentally delayed. How does your school deal with the special needs of this child?

Hundreds of guest workers are lured to the United States under false pretenses. They are ruthlessly exploited by the labor contractors who bring them here. Their U.S. employer turns a blind eye to this exploitation. And the contractor bullies the workers into paying fees and taking out loans that keep them in virtual slavery.

If you’ve read To Kill a Mockingbird, you might remember the scene in which Scout beats up Walter Cunningham in the schoolyard. It’s the first day of school and Scout’s teacher, Miss Caroline, is not from Maycomb. She doesn’t understand just how hard the Great Depression has hit the farmers of southern Alabama. So she innocently offers Walter a quarter to buy lunch in town. He refuses. As Scout explains he’s a Cunningham, and Cunninghams never take anything they can’t pay back. Every student at my school is eligible for free lunch this year, so they understand Walter’s situation. But what they don’t understand is “why other students get to go off campus for lunch and we don’t.”

Thursday and Friday mornings, I have cafeteria duty at my elementary school. I always smile when our younger students come through the breakfast line. Their heads are at the level of the serving racks, so they have to hold their hands up to get their trays of food. I have to help them or we will have pancakes and syrup everywhere.

After reading Yaa Gyasi’s Homegoing, this teacher is doubling down on his efforts to root the study of literature and written expression in an emancipatory impulse.

Some of my favorite teaching moments are when I can shut up and let students teach each other. This magic happened recently when a group of high school students from one of Chicago’s most under-resourced neighborhoods came to our university campus—just a few miles—but an entire world away.