"why are all the kids brown?"

Due to the nature of my schedule, and my tendency to talk more than I'd like, I frequently find myself in conversations with my colleagues on my prep time. Whether I'm in another teacher's classroom or in the teachers' lounge, a significant portion of the staff seems to be very comfortable speaking to me (sometimes too comfortable!) on various issues, both relating to school and home. In this post, I'd like to recount a few conversations I've had with coworkers or overheard that have given me a better look at what it means to be a teacher in an inner city school.

Situation #1: While awaiting a turn at our one copy machine we share among the 70 or so staff members at my school, I sat with some of my colleagues and engaged in some casual conversation. There was one new staff member in the office whom I had not met waiting for her turn at the machine. As she waited in line, one of the few male teachers kept saying he should keep his mouth shut or get himself in trouble. My first instinct was that he was going to say something about our school and point out one of its many imperfections to our new staff member. Instead, he surprised me as he made the room uncomfortable by saying something along the lines of "we don't usually have young attractive blondes on staff here." The girl seemed a bit uncomfortable, but her lack of any real reaction led me to believe that this was not an uncommon occurance. Being an attractive and young woman in the workplace can often lead to undesirable attention. I can only imagine the process where shock and disgust slowly disintegrate into apathy and acceptance.

Situation #2: On one of my breaks during the school day, I had a long (approx 30 min) conversation with a veteran teacher on staff. This woman is someone I have a great deal of respect for. She has been at our school for longer than almost any staff member. She is certified to be an administrator and is a key contact person for any new teacher, yet she keeps her teaching role because she enjoys it. We were talking about how much we liked working in the city, even though neither of us live there. She commented about how spoiled and privileged so many of the kids were in the suburban town she lived in and how she would never want to teach there. She then moved on to talk about her own children and various stories of their interactions with the students at the school she worked at. One of those stories involves the title of today's post. When her son was in second grade, she brought him to our school for our field day activities. Upon arrival, the mother and son had to wait for the halls to clear. While standing in the hallway, the boy asked, in a loud voice, "Why are all the kids brown?" His ignorance of race and the existence of various skin tones shocked his mother, and in retrospect, she commented on how truly sheltered her children's lives were.

Situation #3: Discussing some of our "problem" students with a colleague led to her depiction of specific child's home life. In describing his situation, the teacher described the uncle the child lived with as being "the most terrifying thing you could imagine - huge, black, guy with dyed blonde hair." She then paused and whispered "you know, he looked like a total fag." She then continued to talk about all of the problems the kid had. The teacher I am referring to right now is someone who is very smart and I respect a lot. I honestly have a hard time accepting that comment, especially since she is a teacher who is involved in our anti-bullying program and also teaches the kids health class.

The first and third situations bother me much more than the second. I feel that by my non-reaction at the time, I condoned the comments and therefore betrayed my own ideals. Every time I fail to react in situations where sexist, racist, or homophobic comments are made, I am prompted to re-evalute my own beliefs and ideals. If I am not able to respond when someone says something that I find unacceptable, then how can I be an effective medium for change? I hate myself so much when I don't respond because I know that I took the easy way out. When it happens with a student for whom I am responsible, it is easy for me to call it and explain why, but when it is with a colleague, particularly one whom I respect, I feel that my inaction is a sign of serious weakness. I hate feeling weak and I want people to know where lines need to be drawn. I am aware that more often than not, commenting does little more than induce self-senorship on the part of my colleagues or friends, and the problem continues, just not in my presence. Being ineffective is frustrating and I wish that I could be more successful achieving the goals I strive to reach.