Distraught

The wind is blowing crazily; tree limbs crashing to the ground and rain pounding against every surface that is met. Seems as though these past few days are projections of my thoughts. There is a tumultuous whirlwind forming inside of me and soon my words will be slamming down someone's throat or slapping them blatantly across the face-like the trees that demanded uprooting, freedom from the grounds, right onto some unsuspecting victim's front yard and cars. Slam!

Here it goes, I put it out into the world and I hope that the winds carry these thoughts into someone's space-especially those that don't welcome me.

I am done-done. The other day I went into an emergency staff meeting to talk about the recent killing of one of our student's younger brothers-a student who brought a gun to school 3 days before his 14 year old brother was shot at a middle school. The kind hearted Latina principal proceeds to explain the recent events and that we will now have a closed campus. Students will now no longer be able to leave this jail of a campus for lunch. I have mixed feelings-true, one week before school went on vacation one of our students was jumped during lunch at an off site location. However, in a campus of 180 students, we want to keep them barred in and will now assuage them with Madden tournaments, cardgames, movies and some dominoes. Teachers are now recommended to be "extra vigilant" at our doors-as requested in a district wide phone call by the superintendent. What the fuck does "extra vigilant" mean? Regulate harder? Shoot more teacher glares with stronger force? Use jedi-mind tricks? Or bring our own guns? Send more kids to the office when we think they're acting out? Really? That seems most effective.

I did not sign up to be a goddamn police officer or prison guard. I came to teach. To teach not to be extra goddamn vigilant. I'm too tired of being hardcore. Watching my own goddamn back and now you think that watching backs is what will keep these kids alive? Please.

Last year, I sat on a series of district wide meetings to address "diversity" in the district. These district reps were charged with the responsibility of choosing a training program that would assist all staff-administration, certified, credentialed-everyone. We compiled our research, met with even the renowned-Lee Mun Wah and other district reps only to be dismissed with a short e-mail that said that there was not enough funding yet; the project was postponed indefinitely. The district has decided to focus on literacy.

Since when was one substituted for the other? As if diversity and literacy cannot exist simultaneously. But to be more crass, who the fuck is reading now that they are focused on mourning? Read that!

So, I'm angry and bitter. I went to the child's funeral, heard children crying. Children should not be suffering this way. But they do and that is our calling, isn't it? To help them in their time in need?

But, before I jump on the solution train which will face opposition by paid folks who always think they know more than the already suffering, suffered; tired grown and young people-I am venting-as loud as the keys will allow me to express.

I am so pissed. Pissed at trying to do things. meetings that are fruitless but instead end up becoming mockeries of the critical thinkers, educators and empassioned people of color who sit for countless hours trying to tell everyone to help us heal and change things.

Note: Since I have worked, the stories most of my students of color and working class students have shared include a Latino student being threatened of getting jumped by more than 5 black students, black students explaining they've been chased by carloads of Latinos, sexual assault, police brutality-cops sicking dogs on them, being taunted by police officers, their friends and family dying premature deaths...

I am thoroughly exhausted and I will be in school tomorrow trying to figure out how we are all supposed to function without real support-intervention, conversations on race, class, gender, sexuality, violence and respect; real safety besides locked gates and more boys in blue with guns intimidating the atmosphere.

I am sick of this shit and I am done. Even now, I feel like my words are tepid. My ferocious insides are eating me up because no one will hear this or other conscious teachers speak-and even though I started to believe that blogging would help-who the fuck is going to get this community to hear this blog? Who's going to make it echo into their dreams and become the nightmare that it has for so many others?

The pastor at the child's funeral said, "there's a nationally recognized teacher here (read: Macarthur fellow, Oprah's angel, respected speaker and lecturer and Black) that not even his city has acknowledged." In fact they cut funding for his popular forensic's program. and interestingly, two days before the funeral he called me and ended the conversation with, "they won't even listen to me."

Someone fucking tell this people-their racism (negligence, inciting violence) is killing the kids.

5 more months, but until then I am going to count on my breath and hope my students will be patient with themselves, me and others as I teach, inspire and others organize.