[REDIRECT]

i moved my website to lindsaygranger.com
please take note.
it's way awesome-er.

adventures in ambiguous ethnicity.

best. flavor. ever. 

Most people who see me think I'm Latina, North (or East) African, or from the Caribbean. Rarely is the automatic assumption of a stranger that I'm a Black American with two Black American parents and 3.5 Black American grandparents. It's super annoying to have people automatically speak to me in Spanish or Arabic, but I get it. My skin is definitely on the lighter side and, combined with hair that is more 3B than 4C, confusion about my race is inevitable. It is obvious that I have a multiracial heritage, but that doesn't mean I'm not Black. It just means that the mixing that almost all Black Americans with slave ancestors have in their background is more evident in me than in others. It's genetic, and that's pretty much it.

Well, to me, at least... But when the people who assume I'm not Black are Black, things can get a little complicated and a lot awkward.

This is what happened with my watermelon Jolly Rancher.

The setup: My office's secretary is Black, and she has a candy dish on her desk. Last week, it was filled with Jolly Ranchers. I went to snag a few and noticed that the only ones left in the dish were grape and watermelon. I joked: "Grape and watermelon? This is the Blackest candy selection ever!" I laughed. She gave me the side-eye. I took four watermelon Jolly Ranchers and scurried back to my desk.

My joke referenced the stereotypes that all Black people like watermelon and grape-flavored foods. It's the type of joke I make with my Black friends all the time. They know I'm Black and think it's funny. Now, I don't know what race my secretary thinks I am, but I'm pretty sure she thinks I'm racist.

I didn't feel the need to go back and tell her I'm Black, too... but maybe I should have? See, I never know how to react when my racial identity is questioned by people who share it. This is a really sensitive subject for me because this has been questioned for my whole life. When I was younger, it was rough. I would cry when people would tell me I wasn't Black, so I just started telling people I was multiracial. It was easier, but never felt correct. The more comfortable I got with myself, however, made me more comfortable to just not care what other people thought of me (racially and otherwise). My Mariah "not Black enough for the Black people" Carey baggage that I carried up until college has given way to a more 'you can't define me for me' type of attitude.

I like it better, but the situation is still the same. I'm still judged based on appearance and often feel the need to explain myself when I talk about race in ways that are only acceptable within the group. I don't want to have to go through my family tree every time I want to make an off-color comment, nor should I have to. At the same time, however, I understand the feeling of discomfort that Black strangers (or just people who don't know me on a personal level) have when I make racial commentary. There is both an historical legacy to consider, as well as this new hipster racism thing that makes some (White) folks think it's cool to make racist jokes because, you know, we're in a post-racial society and we have a Black president. In other words, I think that the side-eye from the secretary was totally warranted, but still super uncomfortable.

(Umm, am I the only one who feels like I'm writing in circles... ??)

This isn't a very easy issue to sum up nicely, nor should it be. Race and ethnicity and identity and stereotypes are messy subjects to contend with because they are so deeply personal to those most affected by them. I know people in my life (hi, Dad) who would completely disagree with both my anger with explaining my genealogy and my understanding of people who are uncomfortable with my commentary. But they aren't me, and I am not them. I'm a Black American who isn't always immediately identifiable as such. It is what it is.

fantasy fail.

My team's logo.

My fantasy football team (PMS Barbie) looks like a garbage can.

The names are good, but the performance is not. Historically, I have had a knack for picking under-performing teams in general, and an ever greater knack (at this point, I'll call it a skill) at benching players who then do extremely well. These aren't new. This year, these factors have been compounded by the fact that my starters love getting knocked out of game in the first quarter. Jeremy Maclin and Aaron Hernandez in Week 2. Laurant Robinson in Week 3. (Though, truth be told, I didn't mean to start the last one in the first place.) As one can imagine, those big fat zeros have killed my team.

Last week, my woes were compounded by a poor decision that I made by going with my heart instead of going with my gut. Context: I have been an Eagles fan since birth, but they are looking rather garbage-y this season. Michael Vick is a turnover machine, the O-Line is in shambles, and the defensive secondary is missing Assante Samuel, like, really bad. (Hey Andy, Cut Nnamdi. Thanks.) My backup defense is the Cardinals, and they have been killing it this year. My starting defense, the Steelers, not so much. So last week, the Eagles played the Cardinals. Everything in my gut said "Play the Cardinals!" But my heart - and my dad and every male Eagles fan on my Twitter feed - said "Don't go against your team!" After my dad laid the biggest guilt trip on me ever, I went with my heart... and lost big. Like, huge. Like, Cardinals +22, Steelers -1 huge. (For my non-fantasy football player readers, defenses are never supposed to get 22 points. Ever.)

Even though I still would have lost with those 22 points (I lost by 24), I regret not starting the Cardinals the same way that I regret every time I don't follow my gut. My gut is never wrong! It is how I can look at one apartment for five minutes and rent it and still be satisfied over a year later. It is how I know what subway to take home, and whether or not I should wear rain boots on a cloudy morning. I'm so mad that I let my (irrational) attachment to the Eagles cloud my judgement about whom to start. I'm so mad I didn't pull a 'it's not personal, it's business' and do what I know is right. It'll never happen again... especially not next week when my Eagles play the Giants - totally starting Victor Cruz. Can't wait to see his salsa dance...

(The second thing I learned from this debacle is that guys are unable to make business decisions when sports are involved. They're like emotional babies. Good to know.)

{pic post - nelson mandela}

Loved it so I shared it. Feel free to do the same.

earning a seat v. losing a seat: thoughts on race-conscious college admissions

In October, the Supreme Court of the United States is expected to rule on Fisher v. University of Texas at Austin, the latest case to challenge the use of race as a factor in college admissions. Despite the fact that the court ruled in favor of it in 2003 (Grutter v. Bollinger), it is being heard again. And, since the court is more conservative than it was nine years ago, there is a good chance that it will be struck down. And, if affirmative action is ruled unconstitutional in the case of higher education, it goes without question that it will be ruled unconstitutional in the host of other places where it is applied. It'll have the same social domino effect that Title IX or Brown v. Board of Education had.

Obviously, I think this is bad.

Some background: In order to ensure diversity at the University of Texas Austin (the flagship school in the UT system), they enacted a policy where the top 10% of students at any high school in the state would be accepted. This fills up roughly 80% of the incoming freshmen class. The other 20% of applicants are evaluated holistically, meaning their grades, life circumstances, SES, race, etc. are considered in the admissions decision. Abigail Fisher (the plaintiff), whose evaluation was part of this process in 2008, was denied admission. She believes that it was based on race (she is White), and is now suing the university for discrimination. [See here, here, and here for more detail that isn't legalese.] 

Now, I'm not writing to make the case for diversity in higher education and beyond. Those arguments are out there and awesome and obvious. No, I want think through the question of ownership in college admissions. How can someone (in this case, Fisher) so believe that they are entitled to a seat at a prestigious university that they sue the school... then take it all the way to the SCOTUS? Or, as the kids say: Where they do that at?? 

Well, duh, America. In a country built on (and by) perpetuating the myths of the inferiority of people of color, it isn't a surprise that a White person may feel that their rejection from the school of their choice has to do with the university's use of race as a factor for admission. (All of the plaintiffs in such cases - Fisher, Grutter, and Bakke - have been White.) I mean, people of color can't possibly be qualified to get in or anything. We can't possibly have worked hard, aced tests, and did every extra-curricular activity possible to gain admission to the school that you expected to get into. Nope. It's only because we are of color... Yeah, miss me with that. 

The idea that one can 'lose their seat' to another individual at an institution that neither of them attends is ridiculous to me. It implies that the individual believes that the application to college is just a formality, that the seat is their seat by virtue of who they are in comparison to others. The only people who think that are people who don't understand what it is like to have to earn a chance. Their sense of entitlement is strong enough to sue (sue!) for something that was never in their ownership. To sue (sue!) an institution on the claim that the person who was admitted instead of them was somehow under-qualified when they do not even know that person! 

[omg.wtf.gtfoh.take a seat.]

Having researched race and privilege in college and beyond, I understand on an academic level where this mindset comes from. Having lived race and privilege in higher education, I understand how it feels to be doubted. I got the looks at Columbia from people who felt that I took their friends' 'spots' in the class. I still get asked my SAT and GRE scores from people who can't believe that I could possibly have earned my way into Columbia, UPenn, or NYU. I get it. I'm not supposed to be academically successful because of what I look like or where I come from. I'm not supposed to be competitive. I'm not supposed to have a shot. And if I don't think that's fair, well guess what? Life's not fair.

(Ever notice how the people who tend to say 'life's not fair are the ones to whom life has been rather fair? Interesting.)

I really hope the SCOTUS doesn't overlook precedence and strike down the previous rulings about the consideration of race in college admissions. We as a society aren't at a place where race isn't a determining factor in life outcomes. Poor, so-called "failing" schools tend to be over-populated with brown children for structural reasons that are out of their control. To not take such external, nonacademic factors into consideration in admisions is to blame a kid for being born. Education has been proven to be the best vehicle to breaking the cycle of poverty for families and communities. Until the K-12 system is equitable enough to make merit-based decisions, higher education has be the leveling factor. Hopefully the SCOTUS will see that.

... Or they could just make it illegal to have such egregious educational inequalities at the K-12 level so that this becomes a moot point. But we know that will never happen. 

[pic post]

I'm working on my doctoral candidacy paper right now, so the posts have trickled to a halt. Sorry! My brain is otherwise occupied with ways that school counselors can become leaders for multicultural education. Buuut I found this cartoon on this Tumblr and I had to share it.

Quick and dirty explanation: American education "reformers" always look to European countries (especially Finland) for ways to improve our system, but don't take into consideration the fact that they have a philosophical difference underlying the value of education to their societies. Even though the focus of this cartoon is higher education, the ideas are the same for K-12. Our politicians see it as a privilege; their politicians see it as a right. Our politicians see it as a 'big government' expenditure; their politicians see it as a crucial investment in the future. I have said it before and I'll say it again: If we really want to improve the system, it'll take way more than just testing and evaluation.  

Ok, I have written all that I can. I'll post more once I get my brain back! 

opinions are like... yeah.

We should let professionals do their
jobs, or else what we're trying to fix
could get even more broken.
[photo credit] 

I'm trying to figure out why everyone feels that their opinions about how to "fix" education are correct. In my daily dealings, I find soooo many people who haven't set foot in a K-12 institution for more than a graduation since their own yet think that they know best on how to solve a problem that has existed for as long as a public education system has existed in America. (Because, let's keep it real, the system has never been equitable, it's just that now people actually care.) It's so weird.

I have been lectured countless times by people who think they know what they're talking about, and it's getting rather ridiculous/hilarious. I mean, do these people tell doctors how best to practice medicine? Or tell lawyers the best argument for a case? I doubt it. But when it comes to education, everyone has an opinion. The most ridiculous/hilarious part, however, is that everyone seems to have the same opinion. It's to the point where was out recently with someone who tried to debate me on education stuff, and I found myself saying "I know what you're about to say, and here's why you're wrong."

Now, I don't want to speculate on why random people are all regurgitating Milton Friedman's free market talking points on vouchers, public sector unions, or charter schools. I'll save that for another post. Rather, I really want to go back to the point of why... Why does this happen?? What is it about education that makes everyone think that they know better than the people who actually work in the field? Is it because everyone went through some sort of K-12 system that they think their first hand experience counts for something?

Eh, maybe.

But I think it's deeper than that. I think it has a lot to do with the degraded status of the field of education in the public eye. People don't question doctors or lawyers because they see them as expert professionals who were trained well and know what they are doing. People don't see educators like that, especially not teachers. I have written previously about the lack of professionalization in teaching, and I think that argument is applicable here.

I think the larger part, however, is that the general public doesn't understand how hard it is to teach. Here is a brief thought experiment that will [hopefully] help them understand. Try explaining one concept to 20+ different people who think, learn, and behave in 20+ different ways... at the same time. It's not easy. Then factor in all of the other things that contribute to these 20+ different lives. Then factor in that you have 5+ sets of 20+ people with 20+ circumstances, but they all must learn this one concept because the concept is on a test that is not normed on your 100+ students and is not written at the actual grade level of your 100+ students, and is known to be an inaccurate representation of the ability of our 100+ students... But if they fail, you fail, your school fails, and it could possibly be shut down. Welcome to urban education.

This is not a stretch.

People with opinions about education are allowed to have them, but they also need to understand that they don't know everything, and that it's wrong (and harmful) to point fingers when they don't know the facts. Is the education system perfect? Absolutely not. Will these uninformed opinions solve it? Absolutely not. If you truly care about fixing the system, educate yourself. Ask questions of those in the know instead of just stating opinions as realities and running with one set of 'reforms' that have questionable origins and have been proven not to work.

Or just leave it to the professionals. You know, like you would if we were doctors...

taking my own advice.

I'm more adept at giving advice instead of seeking it, but even the best of us need a little boost sometimes. My inspiration station serves this purpose rather well. Whenever I hear something or see something that strikes me in the right way, it goes on the board. And really, it's a random board. Right now there are quotes from John Wooden (a legendary basketball coach), Albert Einstein (a famous genius), and Tamra Barney (a real housewife from Orange County). Sometimes, it is all hip hop lyrics (typically in the Rick Ross "hustle hard" vein). Other times, I have more of a "don't give up" vibe. It just depends on the day... and time of the semester!

<<<-------- But this one is my favorite. It's a Lindsay Granger original, and it is something that I need to see everyday.

I have a problem with having really good ideas but not following through on them. There are times when I jokingly blame ADHD for this (if you follow me on twitter, you'll see me tweet "ADHD on a million" quite a few times when deadlines are looming!), but that's not real. I don't actually have the disorder. I do, however, suffer from a high level of perfectionism that (among other things) makes it hard for me to do things when there is a large chance of not succeeding. In terms of writing papers, I can't get going until I know exactly what I'm going to write about. Then, I have to constantly remind myself that 'it's just a draft' or else I'll keep editing before it's finished... which delays the paper until the last minute, then makes me dissatisfied with the final product. Honestly, I think that what saves me and my GPA is that I'm a good writer and a better editor. But still, never being satisfied with your own work is not a good look.

In terms of real life stuff, this perfectionism stymies my efforts at 'going big.' I mean, what if I fail? To me, that's the scariest thing ever. I'm not afraid of public speaking. I see death as an inevitability. But failure? Nope. Not an option. But, since it's not an option, I tend not to take risks where that could be an option. It is something that I am actively working on. For example, one of my personal goals of this blog is to just write without caring about who reads it. I mean, yeah, I hope I gain an audience and I hope I can change some minds and contribute to the conversation, but it's not a must. I won't gage the success or failure of this endeavor by not meeting these goals. At least, I won't try to.

So here I am, trying to follow my own advice. It's time to stop letting the idea that I have to be perfect at everything paralyze me from doing the things that I want to do. That I need to do. That I'm perfectly capable of doing. And believe me, there is a lot that I want to do! Will I accomplish all of it? Probably not. But without going for anything, I won't do anything.

Time to let myself be great. You should do the same.

educators as advocates: coming out for social change

Educators need to help move society along to the point
where everyone realizes that love is love, no matter what.
[photo credit]

In the past few weeks, Anderson Cooper and Frank Ocean have both publicly announced (or, in the former's case, confirmed) their homosexuality. While most folks have applauded these two for their bravery, some have called their actions publicity stunts or blasted them with homophobic slurs (mostly in terms of the latter). Of course, I'm on the side of applause. I think it's great that these two shared this hidden part of themselves with the world, and hope their actions empower others to have the courage to be themselves.

Having worked with teens who were coming to terms with their sexual identities, I have seen how hard it is to publicly state what you have always known. In every school I ever worked/interned in, my office space was a place of tissues and tears as kids talked to me about how hard it was to hide this important aspect of their lives from those they loved the most. For some of them, I was the first person they came out to. For others, I was the next step in the line that typically started with friends and ended with family. My schools in Philadelphia were rare, in that the other students were supportive of their LGBTQI classmates and the bullying and terrorizing that a lot of students go through was rather limited. (I can't think of any instances, but I cannot say they didn't exist.) Sometimes students would use my office to practice their 'coming out' speech, other times they would use it to actually come out to friends. This was typically an empowering and freeing time for these kids.

Coming out to families, however, was usually a different story. While there were times when parents knew and were supportive of their child's sexuality, the typical picture was not as rosy. Sometimes, kids would come out to family and receive such a negative response that they immediately backpedaled from their disclosure. Other times, they were so aware of their parent(s)' dislike of homosexuals that they were afraid to say anything. And on rare occasions, a kid would have the talk with their parent(s) and come to school with bruises the next day. (These instances were always called in to ChildLine. Unlike those at Penn State, I took my mandated reporter duties very seriously and even followed up.) I had parents get mad at me for telling their child that it was okay to be gay, or tell me that it was not my place to promote "sinning" in children. I got cursed out plenty of times for plenty of reasons when I was a school counselor, but these instances were always the worst because I could see how much this was hurting their child.

Hopefully, the very public actions of Anderson Cooper and Frank Ocean (and plenty of others who are out and proud) will aid in the cultural shift toward acceptance of LGBTQI identities that is happening, albeit rather slowly, in America. It is so important for kids to have role models who can show them, and the rest of the world, that it is 100% okay to be who they are. Educators can create schools with cultures that are caring and supportive enough to facilitate this process, but kids aren't in school 24/7. In addition to instilling in these children the strength to fight through negativity with the idea that 'it gets better', we also need to work to make the negativity stop.

Educators, especially school counselors, are in a unique position to take this message to the public since we see how hard it is for our kids. Obviously we can't share details, but the general idea that a society of homophobia is harmful for children is clear even from sanitized stories. (Indeed, my above stories are amalgamations of numerous kids, families, and schools over the course of a few years, but hopefully they are effective examples.) We see these things every day, and the time for silence has passed. Educators need to be advocates for our kids so that this heavy barrier to learning (and life) can be lifted.

I want to get to the point where coming out isn't a big deal. It'll be a tough road to travel, but we can totally get there. All I know is that it won't get better unless we all do something.  

is code switching bad?

Perfect illustration! And the site it comes
from is pretty great, too. 

A few weeks ago, one of my White classmates brought up the idea of code switching. It was in response to an article in which the author expressed disdain for concerted efforts to make college campuses more diverse, citing the fact that students of color don't know how to speak proper English and therefore don't deserve to attend elite universities. (Paraphrasing, but not much.) My classmate was obviously disturbed by the idea that students of color have to change the way they (we) speak just to be accepted in school. When I mentioned that I do it all the time (including the present time) and have been since I was a kid, she was shocked. "That just seems like so much effort!" When I said that it was pretty natural at this point in my life, she looked visibly upset.

My classmate's reaction has been gnawing at me ever since. Is code switching bad? Having been explicitly taught this behavior at a rather young age, I never gave it much thought. I grew up knowing that the how you act in public has to be better than how you at home because people who don't know you will think you're [whatever] if you act like [whatever]. While an understanding of the racial and social implications of this came later, my parents were very deliberate with this message. My mom modeled this behavior at work and even gave my brother and me phone answering lessons. (Like, for real. It was that deep.) My parents, just like their parents and all the other parents who do/have done this, were just trying to give us a leg up.

It is no secret that Black students are treated better when they (we) can mimic the White, middle-class values and norms that the American public education system values. Researchers like Lisa Delpit and Gloria Ladson-Billings (two of my favorite favorites, by the way) write extensively about the ways that African American children are perceived as deficient and uneducable because their normal is not the same normal as their teachers who come from majority groups. As a result, they lose out on valuable educational experiences (like learning) because their teachers either don't teach them well because they don't think they can learn *or* spend so much time teaching them away from their cultural norms that they don't get a quality educational experience.

[FYI: As of 2007, the teaching force was ~87% White, while the student body was 40% non-White and growing (Renzulli, et al., 2007). So, while every White teacher doesn't do this, it happens a lot.]

My justification for teaching kids to code switch is that it makes things easier. Successfully doing this means that they can avoid these issues with teachers and focus on learning. They won't be judged negatively by their teachers and will probably get treated better than their peers of color who cannot connect with their teachers this way. Even in non-academic settings, like the workplace or just in public, code switching has its benefits. People who do this have an easier time moving through the world because they know what is expected of them. Or, as my mom puts it, "they know how to act."

I do agree with my classmate on one point: It really sucks that this has to happen. Why do not-White children (people) have to bifurcate in order to be accepted? I wish we could get to a time when the White, middle class norms aren't "normal" and everyone can be who they are and it's all good in the hood... but that time is not now. Code switching is necessary, and those of us who can successfully master it will be the ones who benefit the most. So, while I hate being called "articulate" and being told that I "speak so well", I'd rather have these (non)compliments than be dismissed outright for not properly forming a sentence. It is a trade off that I will take any day of the week.

Sorry, classmate. Code switching is here to stay. Lucky for you, you can always just be yourself.

---
citation:
Renzulli, L., Macpherson, H., and Beattie, I. (2010). Racial mismatch and school type: Teacher satisfaction and retention in charter and traditional public schools. Sociology of Education, 84, 23-48.

never too early.

Sean Carter/Jay-Z didn't go to college, but if you want
that for your child, it is best to start early! [photo credit]

Whenever parents find out that I used to be a high school guidance counselor, the second question that I am asked is "When should I start planning for college?" (The first question is typically "What is the craziest thing you've heard?" To which I reply: I can't disclose that information.) The answer to the college planning question is way less cryptic: Start planning when your child is born.

My response has zero to do with competitive admissions and everything to do with indoctrinating your child with the expectation that they will go to college. This is especially important if you live in a community or your child will go to schools where college is not the dominant message... Or if you think that, for whatever reason, this message won't be directed towards your child. You need to promote this ideal early and often if you want it to actually happen. As much as we like to think that the whole point of the K-12 education system is to be a pipeline to college, it is not. It has been shown over and over that the this system does more to reproduce inequality than to break the cycle. It is no one person's fault that this happens, but it is definitely up to the parents to make sure that the system doesn't keep their child in place.

But how?

For one, talking about higher education as an inevitability is crucial in naturalizing college as the next step after high school. Thinking back, I don't remember a time when my older brother and I didn't know that we were going to go to college. I recall my brother checked one of those '100 Best Colleges' books out of the public library in elementary school and declared that he wanted to go to the University of Nevada, Las Vegas because the weather was nice and he could 'ride a moped all year long.' (Really, a moped.) Even though he went to Rutgers and never got a moped, the point is that attending college was always on the horizon. The message was never one of "if." Rather, it was always one of "when."

You can also engage your child in exploratory activities that allow them to see the connections between things that they like to do and what that hobby looks like in the world of work. You don't need to have a lot of money to do this. If your child likes art, get books from the library about different artists or find free art classes in your community. If your child likes to build things, take them by a construction site and let them watch the workers. Who knows, they could become an architect or an engineer. Whatever your child is into, be sure to be supportive and application-oriented. Understanding their natural interests and inclinations will allow you to tailor your activities to cultivating their talents.

I have talked to many parents who are concerned about the quality of the schools that their children will likely attend. To them, I say this: If the schools that your child goes to aren't up to snuff, supplement! My parents faced this situation when I changed schools in 4th grade, and they picked up the slack through library books, PBS, and National Geographic. Outside of school education is just as important than what goes on inside of the classroom. This is especially crucial in the summer, when the majority of school year learning is lost.

A final tip may seem obvious, but it is still worth noting: Make sure your child gets the best grades possible from day one. Since the vast majority of schools in the United States engage in some form of tracking, how they perform in elementary school has bearings on their schedules in middle school and high school. Good grades are a must. Also, taking the time in elementary school to instill good study and learning habits in your child will pay dividends in high school and college. I was one of those kids who never had to study in K-12, but was at a severe disadvantage when I got to college. Picking up habits on the fly is really hard. Also, good grades = scholarships, and free money is always a good look!

In the early stages of your child's life, college planning is more about setting them up to have the best possible options later on. The typical process of narrowing lists and deciding on majors is way easier if your child knows what they like to do, what they (might) want to do with it, and are in the academic position to act on these goals. Trust me, I was a high school counselor.

celiac attack.

Love this!
Taken from a celiac support group.

I have known that I have celiac disease for almost four years now, but I have been suffering with the symptoms for about six. At first I thought it was stress, then I thought it was diabetes, then I thought I was just dying for no reason. I know that sounds dramatic, but when everything you eat makes you sick and you don't know why, you can jump to some rather drastic conclusions. I went from perfect health to weekly migraines, chronic fatigue, mild depression, and a host of GI issues that made me never want to eat again. Yes, it was that bad.

[Fun fact: Celiac can cause mild to moderate depression... So if you randomly start crying at the way Peter treats Meg on Family Guy, maybe take an allergy test. Really. This happened.]

After going on an elimination diet, my doctor and I realized what the problem was and I started getting better. Unfortunately, this was before being gluten-free became the new thing, so everything tasted rather terrible. I remember biting into a cereal bar in my coworker's office, and bursting into tears because it was just so disgusting. It tasted like a tree, and the thought of having to eat like that forever was just too much. (I'm not a very emotional lady, but I feel some type of way about food!) Since then, I have found bread that tastes like bread, and can generally tell what is safe and what will make me feel like dying. At least, I thought I could...

Over the last six months, my symptoms came back. Just like pre-diagnosis, I first chalked it up to stress. Spring semester kicked my ass start to finish, so it was a logical conclusion. But even when the stress went away, I still felt kinda bad. I functioned in society and hung out with people and acted fine, but the recovery time of every outing grew longer and longer. Then I started feeling really bad. It is difficult to put into words how scary it is to not know why you physically can't get out of bed. Or to know that you have to go out and not be sure if you'll have the energy to walk up the two flights of stairs to your apartment when you get back. Or to be afraid to eat the food in your own kitchen. To put it mildly, it sucks really bad.

Clearly, I was missing something, so I went to my phone. A while back, I downloaded a UPC scanner app that reads labels and tells people with food allergies if the item is safe or not. This thing is a godsend, and it has saved me from hidden gluten many times before. I scanned everything in my cabinets but found no gluten. Fridge - nothing. Freezer... boom. Mystery solved. My popsicles weren't gluten free. Wait, what? Let me repeat that: my POPSICLES (which claim to be an all natural, no sugar added, healthy dessert) were not gluten free. Dude, seriously? WTF...

In short, the culprit was maltodextrin, a food additive that is commonly made of wheat. Since this scare, I have gotten into the habit of scanning everything that doesn't explicitly state "gluten free" on the label but also doesn't list "wheat" in its allergy disclosure. And you know what? Wheat has been in ~85% of food! And, in ~97% of these instances, it was in an additive. Caramel coloring is the main one, and is found in everything from ginger ale to salad dressing. (I literally went through five brands of Italian dressing before I could find a safe one.) This is crazy to me. This is why I was so sick... and I'm sure I wasn't the only one.

Me being Polly Positive and all, I have searched for a silver lining in all of this, and here it is: Being gluten-free has reminded me of how lucky I am to be able to afford real food. I've never had a lot of money (and since I work in education, I probably never will), but I've never been too broke to not be able to keep myself healthy. I've also never been too far from a Whole Foods to be able to find things that won't kill me, and have an iPhone app that keeps me safe. If I were on food stamps or had a limited amount of money with which to buy food, I don't know what I would do. I wonder how poor people deal with this disease. I mean, how can you deal with something that requires so much money and effort to manage? My bread alone costs $7, and I can only find it at Whole Foods. (Truth be told, there is GF bread at the grocery store in my hood, but it tastes sand. No bueno.)

And sure, I can eat as many fruits and vegetables as I want... but how many poor families have access to that? In the late night hours, when I'm hungry from [studying], I have scoured my local bodegas for anything remotely okay for me to eat. All that is available for someone with a gluten issue are salty snacks and canned beans. Definitely not the healthiest options. There has been so much talk about food deserts lately, and whenever I hear that I always think about my celiacs. How do they survive? Food policy and politics are just as tricky as the education stuff I study, and there is no quick fix that either.

I would never choose to be gluten free, and I really hope I don't pass this thing on to my kids. It's really hard to stay 100% healthy, and every time I make dinner plans with friends I feel like I'm inconveniencing them since my diet is so limiting. (Good thing I'm not a vegetarian, or else I'd be extra screwed!) Not sure why people willingly eat like this, but word to those who do: There are better ways to lose weight than cutting out 75% of your diet... Like exercise and eating real food. Just saying...

[another lazy post]

{Attempting to follow through on my summer goal to blog at least once per week. Even if they look like this.}

Another Tumblr find! I love this list, and wish I would have found it when I was still working with teenagers everyday. These tips are perfect for creative types but also for anyone who needs to get things done. Personally, I believe that #16 and #26 are the keys to productivity (and that #25 is the key to life), but that's just my opinion.

Enjoy!

optimism isn't optional.

Nothing bothers me more than being in a classroom full of disaffected education people. It is beyond frustrating to listen to folks who are responsible for educating children bitch and moan about the field that they are in, as if they aren't in the position to do something about it. Umm, you chose to be an educator! If you don't like it, please leave. Kids don't need negative adults in their lives. Sometimes I want to tell these people to change jobs... And sometimes I do.

I get it though. It is really easy to become pessimistic about changing the education system for the better when so much research shows just how difficult that is. Study after study shows how so-called "reform" efforts don't work, and serve only to highlight all of the roadblocks that make real systemic improvement so difficult to achieve instead of showing how change can be possible. Couple this with the fact that many of the people in the classroom are former (or current) educators who have been beat down by the whole 'educators are worthless and should all be fired' line of thought that figures prominently in the media and mainstream "reform" efforts.

Speaking from experience, it is truly demoralizing to work hard for your students and their families all day, only to turn on the news and have some politician or pundit who has never worked in a school saying that you're the problem with the education system. It is even harder to hear and read the comments from community members who don't think that your students deserve a quality education in the first place because they are poor, not white, and, in their opinions, won't amount to anything anyway. In my last year in Philadelphia (a district that probably won't be a district for much longer), it became very clear that many members of the public, even those who worked for the public schools, were not supporters of public education. After spending hours helping kids do things like pick colleges, get over divorces and breakups, cope with the deaths of loved ones, come out safely to parents and friends, learn to study better, etc., hearing that I was a waste of taxpayer money was, to say the very least, tough.

So yes, I get where the negativity comes from. Really. But really, education folks, get over it. It's not about us, it's about the kids. We know they deserve better, and unless we keep our chins up and hearts open, we know they won't get it.

Everything looks bleak when all you know is bleakness. But we know that things can be better. We wouldn't be pursuing this line of work if we didn't think that. Optimism comes from the ability to both imagine better options and believe that these options are attainable. If you know that something is possible and work with that goal in mind, then it will happen. Pessimism, on the other hand, comes from helplessness. When you don't believe that things can change, you don't imagine things changing, and guess what? They don't change. Pessimism is easy because it requires nothing. Optimism, on the other hand, requires agency. Optimism requires blind (or at least naive), awareness. It requires an 'I don't give a [crap]' attitude about what you're up against, and the tenacity to see it through.

Optimism is hard, but it isn't optional. Without a belief that the education system can get better, it won't.

[lazy post]

found this on tumblr. agree 100%. longer post(s) on testing to come. happy memorial day!

news flash: poor parents value education, too.

I'm taking a summer class about diversity in higher education, and I really like it. The professor is great, the material is interesting, and it's going to help me write my all-important candidacy paper. Trifecta of win... until my classmates speak.

Well, not all of them. There is actually a really diverse mix of people and I'm sure/I hope that as the session goes on (only 4 more weeks!) the conversations will get better. But right now, the only people who feel comfortable speaking a lot are me (duh) and the ones who only know privilege and are therefore ignorant about the populations who benefit from efforts to improve access and retention policies... Which is kind of the point of the class. Instead of coming in with an openness to learn, they say stuff that makes me want to punch them...

So here is what happened in the last session.

We were discussing the flawed pipeline from high school to college that shows how about 20 out of 100 ninth graders will end up graduating with a two or four year degree. (That's national data, folks. Disaggregated by race and gender, it's even more depressing.) Professor posed the question 'Why do you think this is?' and my classmate replied: 'Middle class, well-educated people don't have kids, but poor people do. So it's not a surprise that, since more poor kids are in school, that they don't want to go to college, or won't be successful when they get there. Poor parents don't push college because it's not as important.' (I'm paraphrasing, but sadly, not much.)

Having worked with low-income families in the past, I know that this is patently false. The majority of my students were free lunchers whose parents were either unemployed or minimally employed, and I never met one who didn't value education... especially higher education. I never had a problem 'selling' more education to these families, and often they sought me out for advice. The hardest part was knowing that they were so far behind in the process that their dreams, while attainable, would take a lot more work. The admissions timetable can't start in junior year for kids who don't have a college-going tradition in their families. It is not that these parents don't care, they just don't know how to navigate the system. (I didn't touch the whole 'poor people have more kids than educated ones' comment, because that's just not correct.)

I said this in class, and there was an awkward silence. Nobody disagreed, but the topic died. This definitely wasn't the first time I'd heard this sort of comment, but it still bothered me just as much. I don't know how people (especially education people) can believe such nonsense, and it makes me sad for the people that my classmate is supposed to serve. There are plenty of gaps in American education - achievement, opportunity, gender, disciplinary - but desire to have their children succeed in life is not one of them. Poor parents value education. They care just as much and want their kids to be just as successful as middle and upper class parents wish their children to be. It's such a shame that some educators don't share this mindset, or at the very least, acknowledge it.

How can the system be fixed if the folks responsible for bringing about change think so negatively about the people they are supposed to help?

now what did we learn...

Welp, my first year of doctoral study is over.

Let me repeat that: MY FIRST YEAR OF DOCTORAL STUDY IS OVERRRR!!!!!!! Woohooooo!!

(I may or may not have hit a dougie when I emailed my final paper... you know, just like a normal doctoral student.)

This year, especially this past semester, was probably the hardest in my long (and not always illustrious) academic career. There was just sooo much work!! When I described it to my friends, I would always say, "it's like undergrad, only I have to do all of the work." Seriously, there was no room for slacking. But I learned a lot, both about the education stuff I'm studying and about myself. Here are a few of the personal take-away points that will (hopefully) serve me well in the future.

1. Sleep to rest, not to procrastinate. "I'll do this after my nap" = "This won't be done until tomorrow/next week/the night before it is due." Not always a good idea.  
2. Family-sized bags of chips should not be kept next to the computer. (Related: Family-sized bags of chips are not a meal.) 
3. If I don't go to the gym as soon as I wake up, I'm not going to go to the gym that day. Just wake up, work out, then attempt start the day. 
4. DVR anything that is remotely interesting, or else I won't get any work done while it's on. I have to stick to reruns of cooking shows and marathons of ANTM or Project Runway if I want to get anything accomplished.  
5. Spotify's genre stations suck. A lot. Artist stations are slightly better, but only slightly. 
6. Dance breaks are necessary... as are food breaks, walk breaks, Twitter breaks, and mess with the cat breaks. 
7. The energy from a grande hazelnut redeye (flavored coffee with a shot of espresso) from Starbucks will last 7 hours if consumed when tired... 10 if consumed when awake.  
8. Going into a work tunnel will only trap me in the lonely box. Sometimes, not working is just as important as working.
9. Anyone who doesn't understand how busy I am doesn't deserve an explanation. 
10. It's tough because it's worth it. 

As this journey continues, I'm sure it won't get easier. Hopefully, I'll be able to learn from myself and make it as painless as possible. I like where this is going, and I hope to be in good shape when I get there! 

summer living. summer life.

Spring semester is finally winding down and I'm starting to think about summer. Heeding the words of my advisor ("Breaks are just breaks from class, not from school"), I'm not expecting this to be the carefree existence of last summer. I have a class to take (thankfully, just one), plus research, plus my candidacy paper, so I know that I'll be putting in work. This is a given and I'm not against it. But I need to make time for fun.

Not to sound dramatic, but this school year has been zero fun... And this past semester in particular has been so much less fun than I've had in a super long time. I'm not looking for a replay. Sitting at my desk, drinking tea, and writing papers has been my routine for the last few months, and I'm so over it. Simply put, my social life has flatlined. I can go days where the only time I "talk" to my friends is via text, Twitter, or Facebook. THIS IS NOT OKAY!! Even though I skew introvert, I need people in my life. I mean, human contact needs to come in more forms than cashiers at Starbucks and Whole Foods, right? I vote yes.

Since I'm not at baller-status (yet), I won't be able to party it up every night. (Plus, I'm not 22 anymore and my liver can't take partying it up every night... or even every other night. Sad.) The school things I have to do are rather major and if I screw up this past year will turn out to be a waste, so I need to be smart about this. Next summer, I'll be finished with classes and working full-time somewhere while doing dissertation-y things. You know, being an adult again. This could possibly be my last real summer in a long time (eek!), so I have to make it count. And I have to get a tan. This last one is a must and a half.

I say all of that to say this: My main goal for the summer is to live again. Hang with friends. Dine outdoors. Party on rooftops. Chill in the Hamptons. I need to have a life, yo! There are very few things better than summer in NYC, and I plan to take full advantage.

... Oh, and I also plan to blog more. For reals this time.

smart. pretty. subversive.

Whenever I wear my Columbia sweatshirt in public, the following conversation usually occurs:

Person: Did you really go to Columbia?

Me: Yes. 

Person: What were your SAT scores? 

Me: I don't remember. 

Person: (surprised) How can you not remember?

Me: I took them like 10 years ago. 

Person: Well do you have an idea?

Me: (blank face) ...

"Person" is always older white male whose son/daughter/niece/nephew/family friend didn't get into my alma mater, and they are clearly trying to figure out how this young black girl got in. (Answer: I'm really smart.) Abuse of white male privilege never okay (dudes straight up demand that I answer them because they are used to getting what they want all the time from everyone), I always walk away from these interactions feeling incredibly annoyed.

(And omg, you guys should see what happens when I tell the same folks that I have a Masters from UPenn and am getting a doctorate from NYU. The glazed over, 'does not compute' face is classic.) 

The only thing worse than this is when I am told that I 'don't look smart.' Funny, I wasn't aware that smart had a look. This line usually comes from guys who want to date me, so I take it that this is meant to be a compliment. I mean, attractiveness and intelligence are mutually exclusive... Like, duh. Totally... Not. I used to get really mad about this and blow up and tell the guy where he could go (usually up an unpleasant body part), but I'm over that. I'm also over being mad at the old white men who resume check me when I'm trying to buy groceries. Angry responses are typically helpless ones, and helpless is something that I definitely am not.

I recently had an epiphany: These types of situations are all about power. (Cue the Kanye.) The old man who demands my credentials and the lame dude who tells me I'm too pretty to be smart are just trying to assert their dominance by reminding me of my rightful social place. Because I'm pretty, I can't be smart. Because I'm black, I can't be an Ivy League graduate. And because I'm a woman, I have to take their alpha male bullshit with a smile on my face. And sometimes I do. Yes, you read that right. Sometimes, I let the poor soul keep going and I just smile and nod. Why? Because I have power, too!

Hear me out, k? There is sooo much power in letting people think that you are exactly what they already think you are, it is rather unbelievable. Just like the movie villain who monologues before the hero busts out some ninja moves and wins, people reveal a great deal about themselves when they don't feel threatened. Gathering information is the easy part. The key to the game is knowing how to use this information to your advantage. (This is where the "subversive" part comes in.) Listen hard, weed through the condescension, and pick out the things that will serve you in the future. I learned some great stuff about business and networking from ass of a boss who thought I was a complete moron and treated me as such. He clued me into things that I never would have known because he felt comfortable with me (and my moron-itude) to share a career's worth of tips. Even though I left the job in a blaze of glory (my resignation letter was written in a file entitled "peace peace suckas"), those informal lessons were truly invaluable.

It isn't always easy to swallow your pride and let people treat you as lower than the awesome person that you know you are, and I am certainly advocating neither playing dumb nor allowing yourself to be crapped on. These are bad, and do more harm than good, both personally and professionally. All I'm saying is that it can be rather useful to react strategically to situations such as those described above. When you sense that someone is attempting to assert their perceived dominance over you, fall back for a second and see if you can benefit from their arrogance. If you feel that you can't, then by all means, rip that jackass a new one! But if you can grab some gems before you blow up the mine, then do that first.

Knowledge is power, and when you learn how to use knowledge to gain power, you can be truly unstoppable. 

buzzing words and catchy phrases.

In the early and mid 2000s, the "achievement gap" was the main focus of education reform. This phrase, commonly used to describe the differential outcomes between students of different racial groups, has since saturated the market and served as a rallying cry for reformers on both sides of the ideological aisle. On the surface, this seems like an appropriate place to focus energies (and monies), but dig a little deeper and the phrase becomes more than a little problematic.

The W. Bush administration created the term "achievement gap" around the time that No Child Left Behind (NCLB) was being pitched to the public. While data has shown a significant skills gap for decades (forever, really), up until this administration came to power, the issue was framed as an equity gap rather than an achievement gap. Indeed, one of my professors often points out that there is evidence that the W. Bush administration doctored pre-2000 documents to reflect this new language. (When I find the article, I'll link it!) Now this may not seem like an issue since the terms are describing the same phenomenon, it is more then just semantics. Here's why...

The concepts of 'achievement' and 'equity' are very different, and are thus tackled differently. The equity camp focuses on addressing the issues that cause the differential gains of students, such as more funding and resources for the low income areas that tend to educate the majority of students of color. The belief is that the problem can be solved with inputs, meaning things should be put into the school and community to (hopefully) fix them. The word achievement, however, focuses the mind more on the school: What is the school doing wrong so that this gap both exists and persists? Interventions, then, are more output based, meaning things are taken away from the school until it is fixed. Under NCLB, for example, schools were punished for not improving by the withdrawal of funding, the removal of electives in order to focus on "basic skills", and, eventually, the closure of the school.

See the difference? Same problem. Different words. Different solutions. But at lease we knew what was being discussed.

Right now, the Obama administration's educational buzzwords are "college and career ready." As part of Race to the Top (the reformed-yet-still-broken version of NCLB), it is the responsibility of schools to graduate students who are ready to either go to college or enter a career. Again, as we saw above, the concept seems rather obvious... and commonsense. How can I, a former high school guidance counselor, be arguing against this?? Here's how...

As a general goal, it is fine. As a mandate that is to be used as a marker for a successful school, it is rather problematic. And, given the vague political language of the official explanation, the phrase "college and career ready" begs quite a few questions. What type of college? Community? Four-year? Technical? Should students be prepared for any specific majors? (STEM is the push right now, but do humanities get credit, too?) If a student is prepared for college upon graduation but can't pay for it, does that still count as ready? And then the career piece... What careers should students be prepared to enter? Will a school be penalized for the lack of employment opportunities that face diploma-only applicants? How can schools achieve these goals in the limited curriculum allowed by high-stakes testing? Is this really education?

(I could go on, but I'm sure you get it.)

My point with this post is this: Words aren't just words. We all need to get in the habit of questioning these buzzwords and catchphrases, and do the work of understanding the meaning behind them. Education is far more politicized than most people realize, and no decisions are made without some sort of ideology driving them. Buzzwords and catchphrases are constructed with the sole purpose of being blindly digestible, and it is about time that we read the ingredients of what we are being fed.

still here!

Hey Folks,

School is crazy, but I don't want to completely neglect this space! Here is a quote that I recently found and instantly fell in love with. It totally jives with my approach to my work, as you will see when my for-reals posting continues... next week! For now, back to the papers. Bleh...

xo,
Linds

mo' money, mo' prisons.

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about who benefits from educational inequality. Clearly it isn't people who look like me, but there has to be someone. After all, if it was 100% bad that poor kids and kids of color got a far worse education just for being poor and not White, then this inequality wouldn't have persisted for this long... right? It wouldn't be so publicly acceptable for state governments to unequally fund urban school districts with smaller tax bases while holding them to the same standards as the wealthy suburban ones with people who can pay higher taxes for better schools... right? Am I missing something here?

[Not sure how common this knowledge is, public education in most states is funded by property taxes. People of color have lower property values because we are not White (really, that's the reason), pay lower property taxes, and therefore have less money for their schools... even in the suburbs. Urban centers have more poor people so their tax base is smaller, and therefore they rely more on the state government for education funding.]  

Aaand, we're back. 

The idea of costs v. benefits of inequality reminds me of a rally I took my students to last May to protest the governor of Pennsylvania's plan to cut roughly a billion dollars from the state's education budget. He and his party (guess which one it is) claimed that the state was broke, and implied that public educational institutions (including K-12 and higher education) were mismanaging current funding and could probably operate effectively if only they knew how to budget. Meanwhile, the same budget approved the building of three (3!) new prisons, at the cost of a few million dollars. Because that's what you do when you're broke, right?

Call me old-fashioned (or just progressive and idealistic), but I think that an appropriately funded and resourced education system along with meaningful employment upon completion would eliminate the need for more prisons. Plus, given the fact that it costs more to imprison someone than it does to educate them, this push for incarceration makes even less sense. As Linda Darling-Hammond says in The Flat World and Education, "States that would not spend $10,000 a year to ensure adequate education for young children of color spend over $30,000 a year to keep them in jail" (p. 24). I feel ill every time I read that line.

What does this say about our priorities as a society? And, more importantly, what can be done about it?

Perhaps thinking of who benefits from such inequality is a useless task, since it won't fix it. I think it is time to more pragmatic about it, and focus on solutions. I think it is time for us to use our voices and our votes to say that this is not okay. Increases in criminal "justice" spending (like that of national defense) tend to be justified in the name of safety. As the argument goes, in order to maintain order and security, we must have places to put these dangerous individuals. But if more prisons were really all it took to stop crime, it would have been stopped by now.

Clearly something else is at play. I refuse to believe that the link between a predominately Black, brown, and low-income prison population and the systematic denial of quality education to people of these same group is anything less than a causal one. Social policies need to be linked with education policies in order to address the overlapping needs of people from these vulnerable populations. Only through a more holistic approach can reform occur in either area. 

preparation > evaluation

Since I started following Diane Ravitch on Twitter, I have been unable to avoid the discussion about "value-added measures" (VAM). She tweets about it constantly and seems to retweet everything about it. (Not a deal-breaker, but I was hoping for more.) It is a very hot-button issue in public education, so it isn't a surprise at all that she's all over it. In the smallest of nutshells, VAM is a formula that bases teacher effectiveness on student outcomes as measured by standardized tests. Proponents argue that it is a more objective measure than traditional administrator evaluations that can be clouded by personal relationships. On the other hand, opponents believe that VAM implicitly encourages 'teaching to the test' rather than 'teaching so kids can learn stuff' by basing evaluations of effectiveness solely on test scores.

Both sides agree that there needs to be a more effective way to terminate underperforming teachers who are harmful to students. However, I believe that more effort needs to be spent in making sure that these people don't reach the classroom in the first place. In short, teaching needs gatekeepers.

When I was training to be a counselor, I always liked that my professors took their role as professionals who were training future colleagues very seriously. There was a vested interest in teaching us to be good counselors because we would be entering their field, and they didn't want us to screw it up.

Teaching is very different. The myriad of alternate route certification programs has fostered an idea that, with minimal preparation, anyone can be a teacher. Like math? Teach it! Watch the History Channel? Teach it! I have met people who sign up for these programs merely because they don't know what they want to really do for a living. The programs vary in offerings and length of preparation - some offer a few months of prep, others offer five weeks in the summer - but none work to weed out people who are not cut out for the job. Teaching is one of the hardest jobs around and not everyone is cut out for it. These nontraditional certification programs are actually harmful to the field because, since everyone can do them, they lower the esteem of teaching as both a profession and a craft. All are welcome, so it must not be too difficult, right? (Wrong.)

Instead of spending a lot of money developing tools to kick people out the profession, more money and effort need to be spent to ensure the quality of those who enter. While experience definitely helps good teachers become great, the better they start out, the better they will be for students. I have read research that estimates that one year of bad teaching sets a child back about two grade levels. It behooves all of us in the education field to demand quality teaching from the door, and to put more pressure on these programs to preserve the craft. Accurate evaluation is necessary, but effective preparation is far more important. Teaching needs a bridge troll that only allows the most qualified people to pass, and preparation programs need to take that role seriously.

What are your thoughts?

xo,
Linds

the 'public or private' dilemma.

I was recently at a dinner soiree with some childless married folks, and the topic of where to educate their future children came up. As expected, the poll results were mixed. Most of the ones who had gone to public school said they wanted their kids to follow suit, usually giving the argument that they wanted them to be exposed to a more diverse population than a private school would offer. In the same vein, the private schoolers tended to prefer that environment for kids, despite the potentially prohibitive cost, because they saw it as safer and more academically rigorous. No one said homeschool, citing that homeschool kids "don't have social skills." (Their words, not mine.)

When asked my opinion, I gave what sounded like the typical Linds the Libra response: "It depends."

If asked before I started working in education, I would have said public school without hesitation. Just as the public school advocates at the party stated, I believed that it would provide the best opportunity for my kids to a diverse group of people. But now I'm not so sure. Recent research that shows there has been a major trend in the resegregation of public schools (including charters) since the '70s (the same time that forced Brown v. Board of Education-inspired desegregation policies started being overturned by the courts), this exposure is definitely not a given. Plus, if I'm still living in a major city I probably wouldn't trust the public school system enough to give them my child, especially before the 8th grade. The possibility of an erroneous label and the major consequences that come with it are too great.

I have spoken with a few of my Black friends who are parents, and it appears that this fear of labeling is very real. With them, the decision to try to enroll their kids in private school has less to do with safety or academic rigor, and way more to do with the fact that they don't want them to be 'tracked down' because they're Black. (While less diverse, private schools tend to be more open to diverse learning needs.) Even if the child is not slapped with the 'special education' classification, negative stereotypes of students of color play out in recommendations for upper level (Honors and Advanced Placement) courses. At public schools all over the country, the percentage of kids of color who take these classes is abysmally low. Such biased decision making can have serious consequences on a student's self-efficacy expectations, and lead them to believe that they have less potential than they actually do. Nothing is worse than a kid who doesn't think they're good enough.

I feel like a bad person saying these things, and I don't mean to knock the public school teachers out there who are busting their butts to give every kid the chance to be great. I'm friends with plenty of them and if I could keep them all on hold until I have school-aged children who could benefit from their gifts, I totally would. But since that is completely ridiculous, I have to keep it real: if I live in a city, my kids will go to private school... at least until high school.

But no matter where I actually to educate my future kids, I know that it isn't up to any school to completely educate them. For example, given my desires for quality, they will probably be part of a small minority of students of color, so I'll have to make sure that they get their cultural education elsewhere. The little things to get them prepared to be students will also be key to their success. So much goes into this all-important decision, and I'm really glad that I don't have to make it any time soon.

And who knows, maybe by the time Little Linds' are running around the whole public education problem will be solved, and location and means won't matter in the quest for quality education.

xo,
Linds

ps: Share your thoughts!

the "magic bullet" myth

It is both a blessing and a curse that education reform has become part of the mainstream conversation. The blessing part is that, with so many people talking about how to fix public schools, something positive is bound to come out of it. The curse part is that the discourse has been so hijacked by simplistic movies like Waiting for Superman, that many in the public think that the fix is easy. "More accountability." "Better teachers." "Learn from Finland." Yes, all of these are real suggestions. No, I don't think any of them will solve the problem entire problem.

No one thing will solve the entire problem.

If one thing could fix public schools, they would be fixed by now. If the "magic bullet" (or even a magic brand of bullets) existed that closed achievement gaps, raised test scores, and prepared students for the future, there wouldn't be an issue with public schools. Every child would be on pace to succeed and I would channel my 'save the world' energies to something else... probably something related to food.

But of course this isn't the case. There isn't ever a problem (outside of math or stretch pants) where one size really fits all. When people are the variable, the answers are endless. So why are policy makers looking for a quick fix? Why do they treat public schools as a monolithic entity with little regard to the people who constitute them? I remember sitting in many a counselor meeting and being absolutely thrown but the presenters who spoke of students merely as data points and categories. "The Black males aren't doing this." "The Latina girls need that." Having my kids haphazardly lumped together infuriated me. Whatever statistical regression that the school district used to tell me how to work with kids I actually knew didn't take into account the real life issues that they faced.

That is the problem with this whole "magic bullet" mindset - it doesn't address the actual, tangible needs of the people it is supposed to help. Even within one city, every school is different. They have different kids, different cultures, different problems. The only way to help all kids succeed is to address their needs within their specific environments. To me, this is common sense, yet all schools are held to the same mandates... and the public wonders why there is so much stagnation.

Targeted, individualized intervention is necessary to actually make progress instead of just mandating it. Schools need to be trusted to know what their problems are, and then given the autonomy (and adequate resources) to fix them. Yes this is more difficult than just setting one policy that everyone must follow, but clearly that does not work. I really believe that if educators had more decision-making power about what goes on in their own schools, then real progress can be made. Top down management doesn't work when the top doesn't listen to or understand what is going on at the bottom.

It is time to stop looking for a quick-and-easy fix to a problem that has been around since the American education system began. Achievement gaps, low test scores, and unprepared youth are symptoms of larger social problems that come with the unequal opportunities that children have to receive a quality education. Equalizing funding (rather than relying solely property taxes, which are based on race and therefore exacerbate existing problems) would probably be the best place to start, but policy makers seem to think that demonizing educators, punishing schools, and creating more charter schools is a better plan. Unfortunately, this plan is not working. At all.

I think these "magic bullets" should be melted down into a magic pen so policy makers can write some legislation that actually works. But what do I know? I just study this stuff...

xo,
Linds

all kids deserve to be "smart alecs."

From everything I have read about teacher/student interactions, it is safe to assume that the majority of my teachers from 4th - 12th grades hated me. I wasn't a discipline problem in the traditional, throwing chairs and cursing people out kind of way. No, I was just a really smart Black kid who challenged her White teachers and actually wanted to learn stuff. I was what they called a "smart alec."

My 5th grade teacher was the only one to ever call me a "smart alec" to my face. It was during Science time (we didn't switch classes). She spelled "vertebrae" wrong and I corrected her. Then she told me I was wrong, so I went and got a dictionary and showed her that I was right. She didn't acknowledge that I was right and never apologized for calling me a name, she simply kept teaching... and spelling "vertebrae" incorrectly.

I got straight A's in her class, but she always gave me bad marks for behavior that I never got in trouble for at home.  How could I have? My parents were the ones who had the audacity to both teach me things outside of the classroom and tell me that it was okay to be smart. I had this 'can't nobody tell me nothing' attitude (though I would never have spoken that grammatically incorrect statement aloud), and I credit my academic success to the fact that I still have it. If I think you're wrong, I tell you. If I have an opinion, I share it. In college and graduate school, this is encouraged. In K-12, it certainly is not... especially if you're Black.

Both research and anecdotal evidence show me that being a girl probably saved me from getting into serious trouble. Black boys are disciplined at rates much higher than anyone else, usually for engaging in the same behaviors that are overlooked (or even encouraged) in others. The school-to-prision pipeline is very real, and in this "zero tolerance" educational environment that favors harsh consequences over teachable moments, the differential discipline of Black boys has serious consequences. Kids who are suspended are much more likely to drop out, and drop outs are much more likely to end up in prison... all for something as simple as questioning a teacher. It's funny in a depressingly unfair, we-need-to-fix-this ASAP kind of way. (I'm working on it, but I need your help!)

But even with this knowledge, I want my (future) kids to be "smart alecs" like their mama. Actually, I want all kids to be "smart alecs", but especially the kids of color who are so often stifled from showing their intelligence by both peers who don't think it's cool and educators who don't think kids 'like that' are smart. I want it to get to the point where kids of color are told that they can do anything while not being expected to do anything. For this to happen, ingrained stereotypes and deeply held beliefs about people of color in general will need to be dismantled and discarded. Kids internalize these negative messages before they even know that there is something else out there. It is up to us as a society to make sure that all messages are positive ones.

Are you up for it? I know I am.

xo,
Lindsay