Finding Inspiration through Students
I asked a simple question; I got the truth
Every once in a while, you meet someone you immediately admire because they encompass all of your passions with a confidence and grace you can only envision for yourself in dreams. Naturally you want to get to know that person even more, become someone they consider worthy of their respect. How often does this occur for you? How often is that person a student?
It is fairly typical for me to walk into my office after being gone for more than five minutes and find a student sitting in there doing their own thing. This day it was a student that I knew by sight and name but with whom I had rarely interacted. She was on her cell phone, upset about the way staff had handled an incident between a group of her peers. I pretended to be temporarily deaf and answered emails until she finished her conversation. Silence. A few minutes go by as I desperately try to decide if I should acknowledge the situation or just respect her right to be privately fuming. Finally I turn around and ask a simple question that results in one of the most impactful responses I have ever experienced.
Listen with Compassion
What was the question? I don’t actually remember. Something mundane like, “Do you need anything?” or “Would you like to stay in here until lunch?” or “If you want to talk, let me know.” I probably could have asked, “Did you know the sky is blue?” I was just the person who happened to be around at the time she needed to speak her truth. As soon as she started to talk, I immediately felt the weight of bias, white privilege, and opportunity pressing down on my shoulders.
For about 20 minutes, she talked, ranted, philosophized, questioned, accused, and berated; I said no more than about 10 words and just focused on not screwing up the moment. She criticized the rampant implicit bias in schools that determines how they handle discipline; she lambasted white counselors (like me!) who clearly had positive intentions trying to support her but ultimately severed any possibility of a relationship because of unrealized microaggressions; she celebrated her writing skills, feeling like the emotion and content in her writing would never be appreciated by a white educator or peer; she acknowledged that the system is expecting her to fail because it is designed that way for black females, but fiercely declared that she WILL be successful in spite of all of those things.
I was immediately grateful for all of my personal work to understand issues of equity and bias, because listening to this student speak her truth taunted every fiber of my white privilege to get defensive and disregard her accusations as misdirected passion. So I focused on listening without judgement, aware of the intense discomfort coursing through my body. At the end I merely said “Thank you for speaking your truth” as she hustled out the door for lunch.
Seek Connection
I was paralyzed and energized at the same time. Wanting to share her message with the world, make sure she knew I heard her and wasn’t making assumptions, process what just happened with anyone (everyone); stopped by the knowledge it was a confidential conversation and not my story to tell.
Her emblazoned passion had me hooked, though, and I knew it was up to me to show her that she means something to me, that I truly do believe she can be everything she wants to be even if the system keeps pushing her down. So I wrote a Thank You note. Cheesy, maybe, but an acknowledgement that she had no reason to trust me with her truth and decided to give me a chance.
Later she came down to the office, asking staff to share their hardest life experience so she could capture it in a poem. We all shared a piece of ourselves and within thirty minutes, she was back with poems that expressed emotions we never shared out loud and words we only wished we had said, bringing several staff to tears. She was right, her writing was truly incredible.
From that point on, I made an intentional effort to be a positive part of her educational experience: I wrote up her nomination for an award, I helped her problem solve when she got frustrated in class, I never asked her to share more with me than she offered, I maintained the strictest confidentiality when she did share, I asked about and celebrated her writing at any opportunity, took her to lunch so we could write and share feedback with each other, anything to help her realize she is valued.
Support, Don’t Save
Equity training has taught me that I will forever make mistakes in the way I respond to others. To make my white privileged- self feel better, I try to intentionally fill the buckets of my students who are more inclined to distrust me so when I inevitably misstep, I have some capital. That’s nice…and white…and privileged…and guilt-relieving, however it keeps the focus on me and frankly, it should not be about me. By giving students the space and safety to speak their truth, not only are we filling their buckets, they are filling ours.
I am not here to save students and give them purpose, I am here to listen to a student’s purpose and make sure that in the face of adversity, systemic inequities, well-meaning but biased staff and self-doubt, they don’t forget the power they once saw in themselves. When that feeling of strength and possibility of success show, through the glimmer of a smile or the slight straightening of the spine, that is movement towards meaningful change.
This student is not perfect, is not a building leader, is not constantly surrounded by a group of friends, but to me she is someone who inspires me to be better. The confidence she has in her writing, her willingness to speak her truth in an untested environment, the belief she has in her ability to beat the system and her patience with people living in a biased world is the courage I need to invest in; the courage that I hope others will sit through their discomfort long enough to see.
Why do the people we admire need to be those that have already accomplished a lot? Find people who inspire you through their journey, fortitude, and passion. I may be the educator and she the student by title but in reality we are partners, learning and growing through mutual respect.
