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"Gloria Ladson-Billings provides a perceptive and interestingaccount of what is needed to prepare novice teachers to besuccessful with all students in our multicultural society. Thisbook is must reading for all those entering the profession ofteaching today and for those who prepare them for this importantwork."
--Ken Zeichner, associate dean and professor of curriculum andinstruction, School of Education, University ofWisconsin-Madison

"The multiple voices in Gloria Ladson-Billings's book arecompelling, provocative, and insightful-they provide a powerful'insider' perspective on what it really means to learn to teach allchildren well."
--Marilyn Cochran-Smith, professor of education and editor, Journalof Teacher Education, Boston College, School of Education

"Ladson-Billings, one of the stellar researchers and mostpassionate advocates for social justice, has written yet anothermasterpiece. By weaving the novice teachers' voices, her personalteaching journey, and language rich in compelling research andinspiring metaphors, Ladson-Billings has documented how newteachers transform schools and teach poor children of color."
--Jacquline Jordan Irvine, Candler Professor of Urban Education,Emory University, Division of Educational Studies

"Masterful teacher and teacher-educator Gloria Ladson-Billings hasgiven us--in highly readable form--a brilliant vision of whatteacher education might become. In Crossing Over to Canaan we get aglimpse of how a carefully constructed teacher education programfocused on teaching for social justice can produce excellentteaching, even by young, middle-class teachers-in-training, indiverse educational settings."
--Lisa D. Delpit, Benjamin E. Mays Professor of EducationalLeadership, Georgia State University

The author of the best-selling book The Dreamkeepers shows howteachers can succeed in diverse classrooms. Educating teachers towork well in multicultural classrooms has become an all-importanteducational priority in today's schools. In Crossing Over toCanaan, Gloria Ladson-Billings details the real-life stories ofeight novice teachers participating in an innovative teachereducation program called Teach for Diversity. She details theirstruggles and triumphs as they confront challenges in the classroomand respond with innovative strategies that turn cultural strengthsinto academic assets. Through their experiences, Ladson-Billingsillustrates how good teachers can meet the challenges of teachingstudents from highly diverse backgrounds--and find a way to "crossover to Canaan." She offers a model of teaching that focuses onacademic achievement, cultural competence, and socio-politicalconsciousness.

Drawing from her own experiences as a young African-Americanteacher working in Philadelphia, she successfully weaves togethernarrative, observation, and scholarship to create an inspirationaland practical book that will help teachers everywhere as they workto transcend labels and categories to support excellence among allstudents.

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Crossing Over to Canaan: The Journey of New Teachers in Diverse Classrooms

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"Gloria Ladson-Billings provides a perceptive and interestingaccount of what is needed to prepare novice teachers to besuccessful with all students in our multicultural society. Thisbook is must reading for all those entering the profession ofteaching today and for those who prepare them for this...

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According to the Paperwork Reduction Act of 1995, no persons are required to respond to a collection of information unless such collection displays a valid OMB control number. The valid OMB control number for this information collection is 1840-0595 (expires 03/31/2023).

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Evelyn J. Chatmon, the first African American female assistant superintendent in Baltimore County Public Schools, grew up under Jim Crow in Maryland during the 1940s and 50s. Even though she could see the white elementary school from her house, she had to ride a bus for more than an hour to the black school, where there was no running water. Students drank from a ladle dipped into a bucket and used an outhouse, even in the bitter cold of winter.

But Chatmon also recalled that her educators were extraordinarily talented and provided her with excellent instruction despite the poor conditions.

"This is the hidden piece of history," said Vanessa Siddle Walker, Samuel Candler Dobbs Professor of African American Educational Studies at Emory University and the president-elect of the American Educational Research Association. "What we've seen written about inequality and oppressive school conditions is all true, but it's incomplete. It's only part of the story."

The script that was written, she said, is that segregated schools were all bad and "that nothing really good happened for black children until we desegregated them into white schools."

That hidden history, that there were good educators and advocates within the all-black schools, she said, can also offer clues to the current shortage of teachers of color in America's public schools today.

Exceptional Educators

According to Walker, the experience of Evelyn Chatmon was shared by many black students who had teachers of color before schools were desegregated. With limited professional options, many well-educated black people became teachers who ardently passed on a thirst for knowledge to their pupils. They developed rigorous curriculum that challenged and inspired them, and though society told black children that they were second class citizens, educators taught them that they had the same inner resources and potential as any human being.

"Black educators discovered that they were the victims of an exchange model through which they traded aspiration and advocacy for access to the resources white schools had" - Vanessa Siddle Walker

These exceptional educators also continually advocated for equality and justice for their schools through widespread collaborations with their colleagues - collaboration that had to be conducted in secret. Efforts to advance the minds and rights of African American children was dangerous work under Jim Crow.

In a presentation, "Enduring Implications of Integration," held at NEA headquarters last month and sponsored by the NEA Teacher Quality and Educational Policy and Practice departments with the National Coalition on School Diversity, Walker spoke about her research exploring the segregated schooling of African Americans.

After integration, she explains, there was widespread dismissal, demotion, or forced resignation of tens of thousands of experienced, highly credentialed black teachers and principals who staffed the black-only schools. After schools were integrated, many white superintendents in the southern U.S. who were against integration in the first place were unwilling to put black educators in positions of authority over white teachers or students.

Aspiration, Advocacy, Access

As a result, gone were "the teachers who showed black children that they could believe in themselves...who taught civics curriculum where they participated in democracy...who, in the midst of oppression, taught children to aspire," she explained.

Black students also lost their advocates, Walker said. Black education organizations and networks had worked for years, partnering with activists like Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., W.E. B. Dubois, and James Weldon Johnson, to launch the Civil Rights Movement. They furthered the aspirational curriculum that black educators taught in their classrooms and created a system of advocacy for African American school children that stretched throughout the South.

But after desegregation, the merger of some black educational organizations with white educational organizations meant that the efforts to advocate for the needs of black children would fade into the background.

Integration, Walker emphasized, was certainly the right thing for America. What was wrong, she said, was the method of integration that didn't adhere to the promise.

"Black educators discovered that they were the victims of an exchange model through which they traded aspiration and advocacy for access to the resources white schools had," Walker said.

Black educators believed in integration, she said, but they wanted an additive model, not an exchange or compromise. They wanted to keep what they had, which were schools that inspired children and networks that would advocate and protect the children.

"What did they want to add to those things? The facilities, the resources - they wanted their children to have it all. They wanted access to everything white children had."

A true vision of integration in which black students also had excellent black teachers who inspired and advocated for them became instead a compromise. In exchange for access, they gave up aspiration and advocacy.

And part of that legacy is a drastic shortage of diverse teachers that persists today. Since the 1970s, there has been a lack of representation of educators for students of color - they haven't had opportunities to see themselves in their educators or recognize that they could one day hold the same position.

Horace Tate Archives

One of the reasons this history about integration was hidden, Walker said, was that most of the records of black-only schools were systematically destroyed. But Horace Tate, a former Georgia school teacher, principal, and state senator, kept meticulous records in an attic above his office.

As part of her research on African American schools, Walker met with an aging Tate for a period of two years, listening to his stories about a lifetime advocating for racial justice in schools. He asked her to return to his office in Atlanta, where she discovered an attic filled with a massive archive documenting the fight for educational justice. It would take nearly two decades for her to sift through the mountains of documents and unravel what black educators had won and subsequently lost after desegregation.

Her years of research culminated in an award-winning book, The Lost Education of Horace Tate, which challenges the U.S. to move toward how schools "should have been integrated," Walker said.

"He saved a history that allows us to rethink the present," she said.

Today we need to share the hidden history of segregation and learn the lessons of the past. Now, Walker said, is the time to grant all students aspiration, advocacy, and access without compromising on any of them.

"Are all of our children being inspired? Is there aspiration? Are there structures to advocate for everyone?" Walker asks. "Too often we limit our conversations to access - because we need access -but if we take the history seriously, we recognize that's not all we need to do."

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A Hidden History of Integration and the Shortage of Teachers of Color

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Evelyn J. Chatmon, the first African American female assistant superintendent in Baltimore County Public Schools, grew up under Jim Crow in Maryland during the 1940s and 50s. Even though she could see the white elementary school from her house, she had to ride a bus for more than an hour to the black school, where there was no running water.

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NEA and MSEA were created to mobilize workplace employees-to increase individual power by many acting as one. Change requires collective action through a recognized body. Collective actions like working to rule, appearing at board of education budget meetings, contacting county and state lawmakers, and networking with community organizations are proven to make a difference.

It's illegal for educators to strike in Maryland. That's why we must use collective action. Working to rule can help raise awareness with parents, the media, and public officials about the frequency with which dedicated educators take on additional duties that benefit both students and schools. Successful work to rule campaigns require commitment, courage, and clear communication with members and the public. If your union calls for a work to rule action, you'll be contacted with instructions. In the meantime, here's a basic guide:

* Adhere to your contract. Attend all required meetings, but nothing more.

* If you have not already committed to a voluntary activity, decline requests to do so by the administration.

* If you have already committed to an activity verbally or by signing a contract, ask to be released from the duty. If you are not released, report to the activity.

* If you perform a certain voluntary activity year after year, without a specific agreement, immediately inform the administration before the activity begins that you will not perform the activity for that year.

* If an administrator directs you to perform an otherwise voluntary activity, perform the activity and immediately contact your union.

As educators our time is valuable. Sometimes it is necessary to pull back and remind administrators and supervisors how valuable we really are. Collective action, like working to rule, can be a powerful tool for your negotiations team at the bargaining table. It's amazing to see the change of attitude of board negotiators when confronted with an active, aware, involved group of educators willing to take action to protect their careers, students, and schools.

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NEA and MSEA were created to mobilize workplace employees-to increase individual power by many acting as one. Change requires collective action through a recognized body. Collective actions like working to rule, appearing at board of education budget meetings, contacting county and state lawmakers, and networking with community organizations are proven to make a difference.

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synonyms for flammable: combustible, incendiary, unstable, ignitable

On the morning of November 15, 2015, white Minneapolis police officers Mark Ringgenberg and Jason Schwartze shot to death Jamar Clark, an unarmed Black man they had on the ground.

On March 30, 2016, Hennepin County Attorney Mike Freeman, a white man, announced he would not bring charges against the officers.

My fourth book, an anthology of sixteen essays by Native writers and writers of color on racism in Minnesota, would come out two weeks after. In the introduction to A Good Time for the Truth: Race in Minnesota (Minnesota Historical Society Press, April 2016) I recommend that white people look up and read Robin Di Angelo's work on white fragility. Her book White Fragility: Why It's So Hard for White People to Talk About Racism wouldn't come out for more than two years, on June 26, 2018.

I read her book when it came out, and appreciated it, and hope it's helpful to the millions (?) of white (and non-white) people who have made it a New York Times bestseller.

I've been thinking about her term "white fragility" since I read it in an article by her, probably in 2015. It's never sat comfortably for me and I haven't used it much.

Yes, most white people's egos, their senses of themselves as deserving - having earned - everything they have or their ancestors had, are extremely fragile when accused of even the minutest act of racism, or even receiving benefits gotten through direct or indirect exploitation of non-white people.

But is "white fragility" the best term?

As it's become more and more popular, especially with white women, I wanted to spend more time pondering it.

Whiteness itself anything but fragile.

Whiteness is an extremely durable substance. An ideology. A set of practices and policies across all sectors of American society, ever adapting to each and every attempt at equality and justice made by non-white people.

Whiteness is a force.

Simone Weil wrote a long essay, published in 1939, titled "The Iliad, or The Poem of Force" ( L'Iliade ou le poème de la force). It is about the nature of force as it pertains to human affairs, as examined through the ancient epic about the Trojan war.

When I think about whiteness, about the power white people, even one white person has over me, I think about force, "strength or energy as an attribute of physical action or movement." How throughout my life in America, it has almost always been a white person, surrounded by white peers, who reported to another white person, who reported to another white person, etc. who has held power over me, over the progression of my ballet, art, piano, swimming lessons as a child, over the nature of my worship at the Roman Catholic church tradition in which I was raised, over my academic career, over my athletic involvement, over my participation in chorus and choirs, over my college admission, over all my jobs except one (and there have been so many), over the courts of law, over the legislation affecting my fate, etc. etc. etc.

Those with physical proximity to me have been both men and women. Those with the ability to determine in some manner my movement around the country and globe are white. Mostly white men. Those with institutional authority. "Hard" power. Force. Invisible as wind. You can only see what the wind is blowing around, what a tornado is carrying and destroying. Force is invisible. It's a law of physics, not a thing. Even a gun is a just a maker of movement. The bullet kills because it's moving, not when it's inert.

*

I think of the scene in Steve McQueen's 12 Years a Slave when Edwin Epps is forcing his slaves to dance inside his house. May Epps' jealous wife loses her temper in a fit of enraged jealousy at the attention Epps pays to Patsey, and she grabs a glass and throws it into Patsey's face. Of course, despite her beautiful brown skin, and Mary's pale skin of a body fed by slaves and made possible by slaves, and white dresses bought for with the labor and blood and suffering and death of slaves, in her white house, no doubt built by slaves and kept upright and functioning by slaves, it is Patsey, the "dark" one, who is innocent. (I have a feminist reading of the film that is for another post.) The film makes that abundantly clear.

Yet ask any woman of color who works at a mostly-white office, perhaps especially at a non-profit possibly filled with its own self-righteousness and savior mentality if any of her white women colleagues would see herself in Mary Epps, and whether any of her white male colleagues would see himself in Edwin Epps.

*

Glass is fragile. It's actually a very slow liquid, but it breaks, and it breaks into sharp pieces, and it cuts flesh, and it can kill a person.

Of all the countless encounters I've had with white fragility, I may have thought, no matter what I say, this white person is going to react with anger and accusations and exclamations of their own innocence and my wrongness for attacking them, and nothing good will come of it. I never thought, this white person is fragile, this white person's whiteness is fragile, or even this white person's idea of themselves is fragile.

I thought, and felt in my body, this white person is dangerous. Because they don't know they're white. They don't know they are not an individual. They think they're an original. They think what they're about to say is something they came up with, that came to them as a person, not as a white person. They are living a script, they are in a play, and I am caught in it with them.

In the past year or two I've come to think of "flammability" as a replacement for fragility. As a poet I was looking to keep the basic sound and structure of the word. I also have had a minor lifelong obsession with the fact that flammable and inflammable mean the same thing: easily set on fire.

White people's anger, however, is not lit from without. It is not truly non-white people or conversation throwing a lit match onto a gasoline soaked pile of kindling. The fire is already there, dormant, waiting to catch info flames at the slightest provocation. It's a danger that carries the means of destruction within itself - centuries of racist programming. White supremacist programming.

White supremacy is violence and like a virus, it needs hosts to carry out its programming. It needs bodies and minds and hands and most importantly imaginations to continue its force. It behaves almost elementally because this country could not exist without it. And all the people who are white people in it would be something else.

White flammability. Often there is nothing non-white people can do to prevent being burned, too often to death. It seems like no matter what we do, whiteness just needs oxygen to catch fire.

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It's not White Fragility, it's White Flammability

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synonyms for flammable: combustible, incendiary, unstable, ignitable On the morning of November 15, 2015, white Minneapolis police officers Mark Ringgenberg and Jason Schwartze shot to death Jamar Clark, an unarmed Black man they had on the ground. On March 30, 2016, Hennepin County Attorney Mike Freeman, a white man, announced he would not bring charges against the officers.

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Gloria Ladson-Billings didn't grow up a dreamer.

"What do you want to be when you grow up?" wasn't a question kids in her Philadelphia neighborhood were asked. The goals for children were pretty simple: Graduate from high school and stay out of trouble. Maybe, just maybe, go to community college.

"Black working-class residents of West Philadelphia did not have the luxury of dreams," Ladson-Billings says.

And yet, she has become a renowned scholar who has helped change the way teachers teach with her groundbreaking 1994 book "The Dreamkeepers: Successful Teachers of African American Children." She was the first black woman to become a tenured professor in UW-Madison's School of Education in 1995.

This was never her dream. She didn't even think to dream it. Not only does she dare to dream in public now, but she encourages, practically insists, others do as well.

Ladson-Billings formally retired from her position as the Kellner Family Distinguished Chair in Urban Education in 2018 after being on the UW-Madison faculty for more than 26 years. She had hoped to retire without giving a speech but that just isn't possible when you've impacted so many - and when you're the kind of speaker who takes the stage to "Hypnotize" by The Notorious B.I.G. as she did at a recent reception honoring her at Gordon Dining and Event Center.

Her talk, "Dreaming in Public: Renewing the Commitment to Education for Democracy," walked the audience through her scholarship and the less likely road where it all began.

Dreams came at a cost. They made you vulnerable, to the laughter of others and the disappointment of wanting more than seemed possible.

"We were reluctant to share dreams because we saw so much disappointment," she says.

It wasn't that she and her friends weren't smart; they were realists. They saw the common path of those around them, entering the work force, often in the same place their parents worked, rather than continuing their education. Many others joined the military. But a four-year college? That was for the children of parents who had gone to college, not the children of those with parents who may not have graduated from high school.

"New" clothes came from pawn shops or siblings and cousins who had outgrown them. Dreams were a nice idea, but the more immediate realities of paying rent and having food on the table were immediate and constant.

Her brother joined the Air Force. Ladson-Billings wasn't sure what she should do but she knew she wanted something more than what was expected. She considered being a medical technician, mainly because it sounded "fancy" and you didn't have to go to medical school. But she knew she loved writing.

"I couldn't figure out how to get paid to do it, and my family could not afford the luxury of me finding my writing voice," she says.

Being a writer seemed like fiction. So she set out to become a teacher, earning her bachelor's degree in education from Morgan State University in Baltimore in 1968 and master's in curriculum and instruction from the University of Washington in Seattle in 1972.

While teaching wasn't what she thought she'd end up doing, something changed after walking into a classroom and meeting students.

"It helped me understand that one of the most effective ways to affect democracy was through the classroom," she says.

After a decade teaching in Philadelphia public schools and several years in California, she wondered why black students were not successful in school.

"I knew too many smart black people and their school outcomes just didn't make sense," she said.

For so long, the question was: What's wrong with black children? Did their parents not read to them enough? Was it their community? Their culture?

She went back to school, pursuing a Ph.D. in curriculum and teacher education from Stanford University, earning her degree in 1984.

In her research, she saw black children viewed as deficient and deviant. They weren't seen as children with problems. They were the problem.

None of this made sense to her and it wasn't helping improve learning outcomes.

So she decided to flip the question. Instead of asking what is wrong with black children, she began to ask what is right.

That meant asking questions about their teachers and their classrooms. It meant taking a hard look at how children were taught. What could be done to help teachers succeed and help their students?

"I had two hunches. One was that black students in classrooms with skilled teachers could be academically, culturally, socially and civically successful," she says. "My second hunch was that African American teachers, whose numbers were dwindling, were key to black student success."

In 1989, she was giving a talk in New York on culturally relevant teaching and effective instruction for black students. It was a chance meeting after her talk that brought her to UW-Madison, as told in an issue of the School of Education's Learning Connections.

"When I first heard Gloria speak, I could tell she had absolute clarity and a heightened consciousness about the problems and challenges facing students of color, and I believed that UW-Madison would be the ideal place for her to do this work," said Carl Grant, who today is UW-Madison's Hoefs-Bascom Professor of Teacher Education in the Department of Curriculum and Instruction.

When the talk was nearly over, Grant ran out of the room. And as Ladson-Billings was wrapping up with a Q & A, he was standing in the hall, gesturing to her. The two met a few moments later and Grant told Ladson-Billings she needed to come work at UW-Madison.

"I'm not going to Wisconsin," Ladson-Billings replied.

Grant was able to persuade Ladson-Billings to take a campus visit and deliver a presentation as part of the Wisconsin Center for Education Research's Minority Visiting Scholars Program. After a long day on the UW-Madison campus - meeting School of Education faculty members, dropping in on classes and giving presentations - Grant took Ladson-Billings to a dinner at then-Chancellor Donna Shalala's residence. Upon arrival, Shalala asked Ladson-Billings: "What do we have to do to get you here?" "I was caught so off guard," says Ladson-Billings. "I said, awkwardly, 'I already have a job.'

"And she said, 'That's not the question I asked you.' I'm like, 'Oh my God, who is this little lady?'"

She came to campus as an assistant professor specializing in social studies and multicultural education in the fall of 1991. She remembers fondly her time under Shalala's tutelage, referring to herself and a group of black women faculty members at UW-Madison as "the Class of Shalala."

The winters haven't exactly grown on her, but the community has.

She has helped the Madison Metropolitan School District with various projects while constantly traveling the country, and the world, speaking to rapt audiences about applying critical race theory to the field of education.

You don't have to stay if you don't like it, she kept telling herself. And she certainly had opportunities to leave.

Harvard and Vanderbilt tried to lure her away for faculty positions, while Stanford and Michigan State considered her for dean posts.

"I never went out job hunting but got offers and calls," Ladson-Billings says. "Every once in a while, if I'm down, I'll pull out the letters Harvard was sending me and think, 'They liked me. They really liked me!'"

For School of Education Dean Diana Hess, it's hard to imagine campus without her.

"This institution would have been a very different place if she hadn't been part of it," Hess says. "She's mentored and supported faculty, and worked to make school and campus more inclusive, more welcoming and more diverse."

Her many efforts have led to new models for examining ways to reduce academic disparity between mainstream and minority students. Research linked to culturally relevant pedagogy has been used by scholars around the world as a framework, with her work cited more than 40,000 times, according to Google Scholar.

During her time at UW-Madison, she has edited 12 books, published 49 journal articles and 65 book chapters. She has served as an advisor for 53 doctoral students, including 21 African American women.

Many of her former students have gone on to become professors or teachers, passing her lessons on. Hess thinks about the students who are impacted by Ladson-Billings even though they've never met her or maybe don't even know her name.

"I think we all hope to leave some kind of legacy, whether it's through our work, or our family or our activism or relationship with others. We want to have an impact that lasts," Hess says.

"Very few of us can match Gloria's legacy. We are different, we are better because of Gloria and that is part of her legacy."

Appreciative words were shared on a screen before her recent campus talk, illustrating how she has inspired:
"While in undergrad at Morehouse College, all these aspiring black men were given a copy of 'Dreamkeepers' by Dr. Billings. Her book reshaped our vision of education and ignited a drive for using education to build bridges into the American dream. Now as a judge, her leadership continues to ignite my passion and believe in every child's endless capacity for learning the need for cultural innovation so systems can meet the diverse educational dreams of our now generation. She is truly a divine light." "Gloria: Your voice of reason, inclusiveness and humanity resonates in my mind and hopefully has been passed on to my own students." "We need more Gloria Ladson-Billings in our lives. In our state and nation today, there are some toxic forces at work persuading us to position our schools as broken, our teachers as incompetent, our families as neglectful, and our children as criminals. GLB has provided us with perspectives that dismiss those fallacies and effective strategies for addressing those areas in desperate need of growth. Our children need to feel love, belonging, and recognition of their individual and collective gifts in order for them to thrive. We can do this better in our schools and communities. Let's get to work ya'll." "As the first African-American woman to be tenured in the Department of Curriculum & Instruction at UW-Madison, Gloria has taught me that hard work and dedication pays off." "She has changed my life. Her love, friendship and support are immeasurable." "I want to be just like you when I grow up!"
Even though she's officially retired, her work isn't stopping. In November, Ladson-Billings began serving a four-year term as president of the National Academy of Education, which supports research for the advancement of education policy and practice in the United States. Its members are a select group of education experts from around the world.

Her accolades are numerous. In 2018, she was ranked No. 3 in Education Week blogger Rick Hess' annual ratings of the most influential education scholars in the U.S. The American Academy of Arts and Sciences elected Ladson-Billings to its 2018 class of members.

It's not the books or awards that she thinks about.

"They mean nothing to the everyday realities of black children who are abused and violated in our schools," Ladson-Billings says.

It's about the students. And it's about all of the people who will continue asking what is right with black children instead of what is wrong.

"They all represent my real legacy," she says. "They are the dream I had in public and they are our best hope for a true democracy."
This story is part of the UW Women at 150 series marking the 150th anniversary of the first women receiving undergraduate degrees at the university. Over the course of this academic year, University Communications will feature stories that celebrate the accomplishments of women at UW-Madison through the decades and recognize the challenges that remain, as well as the ways our views of gender have evolved and expanded.

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Gloria Ladson-Billings: Daring to dream in public

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The renowned scholar, who has helped change the way teachers teach African American children, was the first black woman to become a tenured professor in UW-Madison's School of Education.

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Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie: The danger of a single story

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Our lives, our cultures, are composed of many overlapping stories. Novelist Chimamanda Adichie tells the story of how she found her authentic cultural voice -- and warns that if we hear only a single story about another person or country, we risk a critical misunderstanding.

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ABC CEO Diane Bell-McKoy will be speaking today at 12:00 and 6:30 w/ @morganstateu @kfamechurch #ABCharities #RacialEquity #Diversity #Inclusion #ChangingTheFuture #socialjustice #humanrights #justice #equality #community #activism #racialjustice #love #education #equity #repost #climatechange #activist #freedom #racism #nonprofit #peace #socialchange #socialjusticewarrior #mentalhealth #art #diversity #antiracism

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We know that our Black colleagues and neighbors are in pain. Let us be very clear: it is not the responsibility of our Black colleagues to teach us how to support them. As a country, we must reflect upon our own biases, conscious and unconscious, and have the humility to consider how we can better show up in every moment to stand up for what is fundamentally right. We know that allies are struggling to know what to do in order to show support that is meaningful and not just an act of performative allyship. Our Library has not been perfect in this fight, nor will we ever be. In this moment and the future, we must reflect upon how we show up in our work to ensure that justice for Black Americans is protected as a human right.

As a country, we cannot ignore or stand idly by while our Black neighbors and colleagues are targeted and oppressed. We must stand proud and support Black Americans as defenders of intellectual freedom and human rights. We reaffirm our commitment to learning from our mistakes. We are responsible for serving and embracing the diverse community of Prince George's County, and this work starts by naming the atrocities that have befallen members of our own community and our fellow citizens like Eric Garner, Trayvon Martin, Michael Brown, George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, Tony McDade, and (tragically) countless others. We will say their names now and forever, because if we do not we risk jeopardizing the fundamental reason for our existence as purveyors of equal access to information, the opportunity to discover oneself, and the pursuit of happiness and the American Dream.

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We know that our Black colleagues and neighbors are in pain. Let us be very clear: it is not the responsibility of our Black colleagues to teach us how to support them. As a country, we must reflect upon our own biases, conscious and unconscious, and have the humility to consider how we can better show up in every moment to stand up for what is fundamentally right.

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We Want to Do More Than Survive: Abolitionist Teaching and the Pursuit of Educational Freedom

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We Want to Do More Than Survive: Abolitionist Teaching and the Pursuit of Educational Freedom [Love, Bettina] on Amazon.com. *FREE* shipping on qualifying offers. We Want to Do More Than Survive: Abolitionist Teaching and the Pursuit of Educational Freedom

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Dena Simmons: How students of color confront impostor syndrome

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As a black woman from a tough part of the Bronx who grew up to attain all the markers of academic prestige, Dena Simmons knows that for students of color, success in school sometimes comes at the cost of living authentically.