Activism in education: on transportation, coalitions, and rainbows...
Activism in education: on transportation, coalitions, and rainbows...
NSFS: Not Safe for School, your snark-filled antidote to racism and corruption in education. Follow @postphdtheblog on Twitter and @allisonharbin_postphd on Instagram
What this white person is doing: Since my decision not to return to the beloved classroom, my education activism has taken on a different form: that of mentor, driver, and FAFSA coordinator.
This week's term: Coalition building
Definition: Fred Moten and Stefano Harney, comes out of the recognition that “if it’s fucked up for you, in the same way, that we’ve already recognized that it’s fucked up for us.”
Dear friends and fam,
I first met P during my second semester at a public school up in Harlem in 2018. I could tell the other students looked up to her or at least were intimidated enough by her to be in awe of her. Based on her quick wit and thoughtful comments in class, I expected her first paper to be much of the same. And I was correct. As I read over her first paper I thought, “damn, is she smart, I hope she makes it to college.” Even though I didn’t yet know that only 13% of students from P’s demographic ever graduated from college with a degree, I knew getting in, figuring out financial aid, and then actually going to college would be a challenge.
Flash forward, NY DOE refused to grant me my teaching license until I took 18 credit hours at one of their partnered university (::cough cough:: f-ing scam), so I had to leave that community and school for that charter school I’m always ranting about here. Then the pandemic hit and disproportionately f-ed over my students’ futures. P was one of the students that stayed in touch with me, and through her, I learned exactly how NY public schools were handling online classes (not well), how little they were actually learning (nothing), and how the already low expectations other teachers had for them dropped even lower during remote learning. When you don’t hold students to high expectations, they don’t learn shit.
In the fall of 2020, knowing exactly the type of college counseling they received at the school since I had worked with that office for my senior advisory class, I started a college application pod. Even though I didn’t quite realize it, this was a form of activism via coalition building.
P joined for a bit and then went it alone for her applications. I later learned she had another teacher helping her through the labyrinthian process, but that her actual college advisor all but shot her in the foot (that story is rage inducing, and ended up in him being fired-- a near-impossible feat in NY public schools thanks to the enormous clout of the NY teacher’s union).
I worried whether or not she’d go to college. I worried she’d stay and go to Bronx Community College, and drop out after a semester or so, as is the unfortunate tendency. But I also knew the pandemic had changed things substantially, and knocked my students off-kilter enough to thwart even the most college driven. Originally, I had about 30 former students in my college application pod, and of those, I currently know of 4 students going off to a four-year university or college (I hope that some of them just didn’t update me and that number is actually a bit higher). That’s a success rate of 7.2%. And these were the smart kids, who, had they been afforded the same education I received as a teen, they’d be swimming circles around me intellectually.
So last week, when P texted me asking if I’d drive her up to Buffalo State for college, I was thrilled. Unfortunately, I had other commitments that prevented me from driving her up, but I instead offered to buy her a train ticket and come see her off at the station. My girl had made it. I imagined getting balloons for her send-off.
Approximately 10 minutes after her bus left, she texted me she wasn’t on it, and there were no other buses with room going to Buffalo for the day. I thought to myself: she’s stalling, she’s self-sabotaging, she’s not going to make it to move-in day. This is how precarious my students are, most of their parents do not speak English, most of their parents work all the time since minimum wage doesn’t cover shit. Their parents have also not been to college, and it remains as mythical, mysterious, and out of reach in their minds as it is in the minds of the students. College is an abstraction in this sense.
But just as she would do a hail mary pass to turn in another great essay for me, merely a few hours past the deadline, she made it up to college (a few days late) and is set to start her next adventure. Phew.
This brings me to my point: since the pandemic and my decision not to return to my beloved classroom, my education activism has taken on a different form: that of mentor, driver, and ticket coordinator.
It’s what keeps me connected to the stakes of restorative justice in education, and it is also what gives me the most fulfillment (fine, so does writing, but this is much more tangible).
This brings me to this week’s installment of What White People Can Do Next: Coalition Building > Allyship
As we’ve been moving through Emma Dabiri’s What White People Can Do Next for the past few weeks, we’ve touched on the condescending term of ally-ship to BIPOC peoples, how the very word “ally” depends on keeping those whom you help in the deficit, as in need of saving. And one thing education activism certainly doesn’t need are more white saviors.
Rather than “ally” to BIPOC communities, white people should instead aim for “coalition building.”
This was clarifying for me since my normal approach to activism-- writing online-- can often be reduced to being just plain performative. Sure, I can write about all the things we are missing out on when our schools do not incubate and cherish Black futures, but what was I doing in reality?
And then I remembered that I have a beautiful continuing mentor-like relationship with my former students, all of whom have my phone number and express permission to text if they need something or just want to talk. I forgot that this too was activism because I enjoy it so much.
As Emma Dabiri notes, coalition building is about identifying shared interests. Historically, groups such as the Rainbow Coalition between the Puerto Rican Young Lords, the Black Panthers, and working-class southern whites called the Young Patriots. As Dabiri notes, “the coalition organized around the idea that it was in the best interests of black and other oppressed and minoritized people, together with disenfranchised whites, to organize collectively against racism, police brutality, and the inequalities perpetuated by capitalism.”
Can. You. Fucking. Imagine working-class whites aligning themselves with Puerto Ricans and Black “radicals”? If only...
Reparation Opportunity for the Melanin-Deficient:
Learn about the full story of the Puerto Rican activist-gang the Young Lords and the Black Panthers and re-think the dominant narratives told about these two groups.
Here’s a fab documentary on PBS about the Rainbow Coalition. (here’s the trailer for it on Youtube if you want a quick synopsis)
And here’s a great podcast episode from They Used To Doubt Us on the Rainbow Coalition for your listening pleasure.
If you’re so inclined (and able), here’s a chance to donate some financial reparations to Jessie Jackson’s Rainbow PUSH Coalition.
What the Republicans have used to fear-monger and rabble-rouse whites naturally signals what I’d like to take as a moment of hope for the U.S: the more we educate all people, most especially Black and peoples of color, the brighter our collective futures will be.