A version of this essay first appeared in the Harvard Teacher Fellows' Field Notes blog.
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In my home state of Maine, someone who did not grow up in the state is labeled “from away.” I spent every year of my life in Maine up until college so I never felt from away. Even when I got to college, while Harvard was dramatically different from where I grew up, I was still a white guy from New England giving me countless privileges making me feel less from away.
When I was accepted into the Harvard Teacher Fellows (HTF) and began thinking about where I wanted to teach, I was given the option of staying in New England or traveling across the country to begin my teaching career. I made the decision to move to Oakland, California and begin teaching at a school in East Oakland. For the first time in my life, I was/am a cultural outsider; I was suddenly, in the eyes of my students and neighbors, from away. Besides the difference in my skin color and that of my students’, I also did not know about many of the things and norms that are commonplace in Oakland; I didn’t know what a sideshow was, I didn’t know what a scraper bike was, and I hadn’t even been to an A’s game.
I have since been to an A's game (with my colleagues!)
This feeling of being an outsider led me to one of the biggest questions I have been asking myself this first fall teaching: What does a white guy from New England like me have to teach to kids of color in Oakland?
To properly answer this question, we must first clarify what it means to teach. While on a typical day you can find me in the classroom discussing with students the connections between x-intercepts and solutions of an equation, teaching is much more than that. As teachers, we are simultaneously learners. We have to learn about our students, what works best for them, and how we can best connect their current knowledge to their developing knowledge about the world and math. Teaching is not simply showing students the steps to dividing polynomials. This idea of teaching is exactly what Paolo Freire criticized in Pedagogy of the Oppressed as the banking model of education. A classroom characterized by the banking model, according to Freire, is one where the teacher “makes deposits which the students patiently receive, memorize, and repeat.” This type of education only reinforces a lack of critical thinking in students which further reinforces oppression. I have found the greatest success in the classroom when I position students as beholders of knowledge and myself as just a facilitator in them formalizing that knowledge. This conception of teaching as a more symbiotic relationship has given me comfort in answering my original question; in a way it is not up to me to teach anything but to work together with my students so they can maximize their learning.
The final point in answering this question is recognizing the differences between my background and my students’ backgrounds. I did not grow up poor and I am not a person of color, two realities the majority of my students face every day. This being said, it is all the more important to position myself as a learner and a listener to my students. It takes dedicated listening to even start to understand the experiences of my students. Without listening it would be fundamentally impossible to teach my students. It is also important to remember that while I do not share many of the same social identities as my students, we can relate as lovers of music, singing, soccer, and good food.
While there were many times this fall I asked myself the question in bold above, I have come to realize it might not be the right question. A better question is how can I better serve my students as they grow into critical thinkers, reflective mathematicians, and better people? To do this I must listen to learn about the experiences of my students, build relationships, and position students as natural beholders of knowledge.
We've talked about the connections between math and art. Some of my students took great liberty with what this means.
Having partly answered the first question, I bring my focus to another question: What is my role in the fight for educational justice? You do not need to search for too long before you realize the US has a major problem in educational equity (See charts 2-5 here for a quick run-down). Appropriately HTF’s mission is to prepare teachers who promote educational equity. I personally answer this question by preparing every lesson to convince students why the need math to both navigate the world and transform it. Dr. El-Amin of the ed school, an expert on critical pedagogy, facilitated a workshop during the HTF Winter Retreat about how truly liberating education must help students both navigate and transform. As for how this plays out in the classroom, I openly discuss with my students how math, algebra, and calculus are gatekeepers for further success in an increasingly technological world. Whether you love math or not, knowing and understanding it is an issue of social justice; Knowing and understanding math will help you navigate the world and navigate to levels of success you may not have been able to reach without math. Furthermore, we can use math to transform the world around us by more clearly communicating the impacts of inequality. My colleague and fellow member of Cohort 2 Andy Reardon demonstrated a lesson on slope and income inequality he taught his 7th graders who later mailed the White House their findings. There’s little doubt in my mind that his students felt the power of using math to transform their world. Unfortunately many students around the US see math simply as a set of rules they need to learn just so they can graduate. Putting more emphasis on the need to learn math to both navigate and transform the world is essential in fighting for educational and social justice.
One final question: How has HTF helped me answer these questions? The first fall of teaching is exhausting. So exhausting that it feels like there is little time to stop, think, and reflect. Even with a reduced teaching load, I often feel like I am working from when I wake up at 5:45AM to when I go to bed at 9PM (with a few breaks sprinkled in). If I had chosen a more traditional route into teaching with a full load during my first year, there is little likelihood that I would ever have time to stop and consider the questions above. HTF has helped me find time in my schedule to reflect, journal, discuss, and continuously improve my practice. There’s no doubt in my mind that this reflection has been essential in helping me answer the above questions and further promote educational justice.
A mural in downtown Oakland. I remind myself "rise and grind" every morning at 5:45.