Dear Students,
I’ve heard some of you say "niggaz ain't shit". Some of you have received referrals because of it.
Your exact intent varies, but the impact stays the same. It reinforces the idea that Black people are less than. You may as well not even try because you won’t amount to anything anyway. Here is the part I don’t get to tell you as a group.
Sure, sometimes I get to whipser it during a hallway talk, but always one or two of you at a time. I’m screaming it at the top of my lungs now.
Black people are amazing!
We need to get back to knowing that. No, not just saying it. We need to get back to knowing it.
Why are we listening to celebrities who are proud of not reading? They are broken too. Black people died just for the chance to learn how to read.
Everyone in power knows the old cliche is true, knowledge is power.
Why are we handicapping ourselves? I’m handing you the tools to the truth. Open them.
We were royalty. We were fighters. We were united.
We died for knowledge. We died for freedom. We died for rights.
We watched orange once again spill over the country, this time promising to drown out all color. When did apathy consume so many of us.
When white whispers promised riches in exchange for our history.
I’m a teacher. I chose knowledge a long time ago. It is never too late to push back. Our ancestors fought through much more. I extend a book to you. I’m currently reading Black AF History :The Un-Whitewashed History of America by Michael Harriot for anyone looking for a starting place.
One of the hardest things about being a teacher, even ten years ago, was watching how often my Black students viewed their own Blackness as a negative. “Black” is still one of the most common insults I hear.
I usually take those moments to talk individually with students about why we shouldn’t use it as an insult. I’m not sure if it is because I’m older now or if kids are just different, but it doesn’t stick anymore. They go right back to hurling racially charged insults the next day.
It is really important to me to be a guiding hand rather than beating them down with historical facts. I don’t want to convince them what to believe. I want to ignite the motivational spark. I want to inspire them to go out and research.
I can only justify introducing a limited number of topics in the courses I teach. Certain parents are always waiting on me to introduce a topic they find “inappropriate”. I’ve perfected the shuck and jive, so as long as they confront me before they go the principal, it ends up not being too big of an issue.
However, I also know the line not to cross in the classroom. This line is being moved further and further away each year, and soon I’ll likely not be able to justify bringing up anything about any “diverse” person. I will be able to talk about white men and maybe a white woman if she knows her place in the patriarchy.
I can play the game, but I refuse to be completely muffled.
Still, I wrote this because sometimes — most of the time — I wish I could just shout the truth at all my students. I wish I could tell them the messed up stuff our people have been through without censoring myself. I wish I could tell them just how special they are. They are from generations of survivors and fighters. They stand on the shoulders of giants, and if we all unite, it would be impossible to fall.
This post originally appeared on Medium and is edited and republished with author's permission. Read more of LG Ware's work on Medium.