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https://www.edutopia.org/article/3-ways-enhance-culturally-responsive-teaching?fbclid=IwAR13rOxbAJK0_Fkey50It17PKNyEvW3J2AacU2gm9FvJisGfdPFF_TE36_8

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3 Ways to Enhance Culturally Responsive Teaching

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Middle and high school teachers can cultivate student agency to facilitate conversations about difficult subjects in history class.

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https://teachers.yale.edu/curriculum/index.php?fbclid=IwAR3henFc8gJu8YujlL_XJ9qa49tINbVVXMhM1r4SsNOqOIJX4Lwe23PiYBQ

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The Yale National Initiative to Strengthen Teaching in Public Schools, which builds upon the success of a four-year National Demonstration Project, promotes the establishment of new Teachers Institutes that adopt the approach to professional development that has been followed for more than twenty-five years by the Yale-New Haven Teachers Institute.

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How are you letting your learners lead with their identities? 

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How are you letting your learners lead with their identities? 

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https://www.edutopia.org/video/letting-young-people-lead-their-identity

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By providing students with opportunities to let their identities shine, educators get to know them well, says youth advocate Karen Pittman-and that is one of the first steps in culturally responsive teaching.

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Letting Young People Lead With Their Identity

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By providing students with opportunities to let their identities shine, educators get to know them well, says youth advocate Karen Pittman-and that is one of the first steps in culturally responsive teaching.

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What's the difference between Latino and Hispanic? Who creates these classifications? What can be their impact? 

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What's the difference between Latino and Hispanic? Who creates these classifications? What can be their impact? 

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tLLCHbCgJbM&feature=youtu.be

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A Conversation With Latinos on Race | Op-Docs

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https://youtu.be/vRFS0MYTC1I

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Beyoncé, Blue Ivy, SAINt JHN, WizKid - BROWN SKIN GIRL (Official Video)

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What happens when we do not consider students' identities? 

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What happens when we do not consider students' identities? 

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OBkqJw8zr_I

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Student Performs Powerful Poem About Identity

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https://www.nbcnews.com/news/nbcblk/black-panther-s-wakanda-sheds-light-black-excellence-n844801

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The phrase "black excellence" gets thrown around a lot, being attributed to a wide range of activities, accomplishments and accolades by black men and women in every walk of life, both professional and personal. At the "royal carpet" world premiere of "Black Panther" in Los Angeles and other premieres across the country, it is a phrase that dominates every interview about the excitement everyone has for what is ahead on-screen and continues in conversations on social media.

But when it comes to this movie, the phrase almost feels understated.

"Black Panther" tells the story of Wakanda, an African nation untouched by the outside world. Wakanda is un-colonized, thriving on its own natural resources and technologically advanced in ways the rest of the world can't fathom.

When King T'Challa, Black Panther (played by Chadwick Boseman), rises to power after his father's untimely death, the protection of Wakanda and its resources rests squarely on the young king's shoulders. With an army of highly-skilled, battle-ready and beautiful black women to aid him, the king takes on the challenge of an unexpected foe, threatening the safety of not only Wakanda, but the entire world.

The highly anticipated movie is expected to shatter its competitors at the box office, having already set a record for advance ticket sales in the Marvel cinematic universe and it currently has a 100% rating among top critics on Rotten Tomatoes.

The film is star-studded from the call sheet to the crew list, featuring some of the biggest names in the industry such as: Boseman, Michael B. Jordan, Lupita N'yongo, Angela Bassett and Forest Whitaker. It is written and directed by iconic filmmaker Ryan Coogler.

Speaking of her pride for the film, Bassett, who plays Queen Mother Ramonda, spoke of the importance of the women to "Black Panther."

"In African culture, they feel that there is no king without a queen, and I think in this story it highlights the queen," she said. "[It highlights] the warrior, the general, the young sister."

Danai Gurira, who plays Okoye, Panther's chief general, is as a fierce a fighter as Panther, serving as his protector. Also Letitia Wright, playing Panther's sister and Princess Shuri, is a key role to the story. She's the brains behind Wakanda's technological superiority, using her creativity and access to unique resources, she's one of the movies' gems.

"This film is called "Black Panther," but it could've been called 'The Badass Women of Wakanda,'" said Entertainment Tonight's Nischelle Turner, who moderated a press conference, following the world premiere.

Smart, fiercely loyal to the throne, stunningly bald and beautiful, Okoye's protection, support, and strength is unwavering. But Gurira said the role had unique challenges.

"I was the first one to get my head shaved," said Gurira during the premiere's press conference. "In theory, it sounded amazing and then the day came and I was saying, 'Is that today?' Then all of the girls started coming in bald one by one and everyone had their hats on. But then the pride started to grow, there was pride around it, this embracing of this symbol of power in these women and the beauty of how he wrote that she doesn't want [a] wig. She felt a joy in walking with a bald head with that tattoo on it."

The idea of Wakanda and the Wakandan people serve as pure inspiration. Wakanda, as a model of the growth of the natural brilliance of an African nation that was never interfered with by the outside world coming in to colonize, to strip of its resources, to change their way of life - is an African utopia.

The story of Black Panther is also brought to life by an incredible team of creatives, costumes, sets, hair and production design.

The costume design team, led by Ruth Carter, could also find the next award season showering their work with appreciation. The primary costume, the suit of the Black Panther, holds an interesting bit of seeming symbolism. Imagined and designed by Shuri, her brother's attire becomes more powerful every time it is hit, not only safeguarding the King of Wakanda from harm, but the blows to his body storing kinetic energy that he is able to later use as power to overcome his challenger.

Besides the stunning and 'wow' moments of the film, there's also a message: there are many ways to empower and advance a people, both individually and as a body. There's a clear distinction in thought processes among our star and his antagonist on how to seek justice and how to grow, but also how to preserve who we are and what we have.

South African actor John Kani, who plays King T'Chaka, told NBC News that this movie has a deeper meaning for non-Americans and people living in Africa.

"This movie will prove to the colonialists that if they had not interfered with Africa, we'd be so far advanced, may make them believe we built those pyramids in Egypt. No alien did them," Kani said. "The metaphor is, Africa has great potential. Africa no longer relates to the world with a bag and bone. We're looking for interaction and trade, not aid."

Bassett said she was proud to have her son and daughter see the film, "because in their spirit, they were feeling themselves and they stood taller after [the film]."

"Stan Lee and Jack Kirby and the whole Marvel bullpen created Wakanda and T'Challa, and Black Panther and made him smarter and more accomplished than any of the other white characters, in the mid-1960s," said Kevin Feige, producer of the film, answering a question about whether there was pushback on some of the themes in the story. "If they had the guts to do that in the mid-1960s the least we could do was live up to that and allow this story to be told the way it needed to be told, and not shy away from things that the Marvel founders didn't shy away from in the Civil Rights Era."
"Black Panther" premieres in theaters everywhere Feb. 16. Follow NBCBLK on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram

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'Black Panther's' Wakanda sheds light on black excellence

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The phrase "black excellence" gets thrown around a lot, being attributed to a wide range of activities, accomplishments and accolades by black men and women in every walk of life, both professional and personal.

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Local poet asks: How do you see and hear your students? 

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Local poet asks: How do you see and hear your students? 

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K9lBpoko7LA

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Nahla~Muslima In High School (ChiefThePoet) Spoken Word

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https://www.sceneonradio.org/seeing-white/

Examining race requires an examination of "Whiteness" as much as it does "Blackness"

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Just what is going on with white people? Police shootings of unarmed African Americans. Acts of domestic terrorism by white supremacists. The renewed embrace of raw, undisguised white-identity politics. Unending racial inequity in schools, housing, criminal justice, and hiring. Some of this feels new, but in truth it's an old story.

Why? Where did the notion of "whiteness" come from? What does it mean? What is whiteness for?

Scene on Radio host and producer John Biewen took a deep dive into these questions, along with an array of leading scholars and regular guest Dr. Chenjerai Kumanyika, in this fourteen-part documentary series, released between February and August 2017. The series editor is Loretta Williams.

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Just what is going on with white people? Police shootings of unarmed African Americans. Acts of domestic terrorism by white supremacists. The renewed embrace of raw, undisguised white-identity politics. Unending racial inequity in schools, housing, criminal justice, and hiring. Some of this feels ne

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How are we amplifying Arab American voices in the classroom? 

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How are we amplifying Arab American voices in the classroom? 

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https://www.learningforjustice.org/magazine/presently-invisible-the-arab-plight-in-american-classrooms

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Growing up a third culture kid, torn between my Palestinian-Arab ethnicity and my American nationality, I was constantly made aware of my otherness. During my formative years, I was unable to reconcile these feelings or articulate them properly. Many years later, I recognized how I had felt-invisible.

When taking standardized tests and filling out the race bubbles, I never could find the right one to check: White, Black, Latino, Asian, Native American. This small set of choices left me perplexed. As an Arab American, I knew my experiences and race were not the same as my white peers', but I also did not fit into any of the other categories.

Arab Americans are often forgotten when it comes to representation, whether it's on the census, in political strategies to gain voters, in the media or-most commonly-in the classroom.

And while inclusive and social justice-based curricula are making their way into elementary and secondary classrooms, I cannot help but ask: Where are all the Arab Americans? Even among the most progressive and socially conscious educators, we see a lack of Arab representation in many K-12 classrooms.

But even though Arabs are invisible in conversations about history, politics and curriculum, we are constantly vilified. Arabs are invisible when talking about the complexity of American history, and our contributions to society are often minimized. Yet in the media, movies and stories-especially after the events of September 11, 2001, and more recently in the "Muslim Ban"-Arabs and Muslims are portrayed as foreign, out of place in the United States, with beliefs that do not belong in American society. How can an entire race be both invisible and vilified?

While Arabs immigrated individually to North America before the United States became a nation, the first significant wave of Arab migration to the U.S. happened in the 1800s, with a substantial mass immigration happening in the early 1900s. This is not dissimilar to other migrant groups like Italians, Greeks and Portuguese. But, unlike Arab Americans, these other immigrant groups are seen as a part of the American fabric. This history of erasing, vilifying and othering Arab Americans-coupled with blatant and overt racism, Islamophobia and daily discrimination-has affected Arab Americans' self-esteem, mental health and engagement in American politics.

To change the perspective, we need to include Arab American voices in the classroom.

This could be done in a variety of ways, such as by diversifying classroom libraries with texts that center Arab characters and are written by Arab writers. For example, Naomi Shihab Nye is the current Poetry Foundation Young People's Poet Laureate. Nye writes about her experiences as a Palestinian American growing up torn between two worlds.

The inclusion of Arab American authors and books with Arab protagonists provides students a chance to read and experience Arab identities. Not only will Arab students start to see themselves in the texts; other students will be able to have a window into these experiences.

Teachers should also look for places to include Arab American history in their current curriculum. During the month of April, Arab American Heritage month, teachers can have students research prominent Arab and Arab American figures. But this learning can continue year-round.

For example, educators can cover Arab history when discussing the U.S. labor movement. Arab Americans have played a key role in union organizing on behalf of workers on farms and in the auto industry.

Ralph Nader, an Arab American, has been directly credited with the creation of landmark consumer protection acts, such as the Clean Water Act, the Freedom of Information Act and, most notably, the National Traffic and Motor Vehicle Safety Act.

Educators can also highlight the contributions of Arab Americans today. For example, Moncef Slaoui led Operation Warp Speed, the U.S. program to spearhead development of the COVID-19 vaccine.

While small additions are not comprehensive, they can help educators start the process of being truly inclusive in their classrooms. In today's political climate, children are exposed to over-simplified and biased perspectives of the world and the people in it. The inclusion of Arab Americans in our curriculum will not only help to negate much of the misinformation, but it will also cultivate a new generation that works toward a future where things like FBI surveillance based on race or "the Muslim Ban" could be unimaginable.

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Presently Invisible: The Arab Plight in American Classrooms

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Growing up a third culture kid, torn between my Palestinian-Arab ethnicity and my American nationality, I was constantly made aware of my otherness. During my formative years, I was unable to reconcile these feelings or articulate them properly. Many years later, I recognized how I had felt-invisible.

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Where are you on the compass as you engage in these resources? 

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Where are you on the compass as you engage in these resources? 

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Why is this happening in NYC and do we see a similar pattern locally? 

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Why is this happening in NYC and do we see a similar pattern locally? 

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https://www.nytimes.com/2020/12/08/nyregion/ny-schools-reopening-inequality.html

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As buildings reopen, many families of color are choosing to keep students home. That disparity is raising alarms, given the shortcomings of remote learning.

Students said goodbye to parents on Monday morning outside a school on East New York Avenue in Brooklyn. Credit... Victor J. Blue for The New York Times

Mayor Bill de Blasio's monthslong effort to reopen New York City classrooms was complicated by major logistical challenges, staunch political resistance and a series of crises that culminated in a brief systemwide shutdown last month. At every turn, Mr. de Blasio insisted that the city's most vulnerable children needed open schools.

But as some school buildings reopen this week, the mayor has found himself presiding over a starkly unequal school system in which many white families have flocked back to classrooms while most families of color have chosen to learn from home indefinitely.

That gulf is illustrated in a startling statistic: There are nearly 12,000 more white children returning to public school buildings than Black students - even though there are many more Black students than white children in the system overall. Latino students are returning at a rate roughly proportional to their overall representation in the school system.

In New York and across the country, politicians and education officials have found that many nonwhite families are not ready to send their children back to classrooms - despite their struggles with remote learning - in part because of the disproportionately harsh impact the virus has had on their communities.

But the fact that so many students of color have chosen remote over in-person learning is raising alarms that existing disparities in the nation's largest school system will widen, since remote learning has been far less effective, parents, educators and officials said in dozens of interviews. More than ever, they say, the city must quickly bolster online instruction - or risk having its neediest children fall irrevocably behind.

"It's the perfect storm of marginalization," said Jamila Newman of TNTP, a nonprofit that provides consulting services for districts on staffing and instruction. "That's why there is the need to demand stronger instruction remotely."

New York's issues with remote instruction begin with a lack of basic infrastructure for students learning from home. Many low-income students, including some living in homeless shelters, cannot even log on for classes because they still do not have devices or Wi-Fi.

Educators also said they were scrambling to make lessons more engaging for students without much helpful guidance from the city. So while individual teachers and schools have honed creative strategies to improve online instruction, there is no clear citywide plan to do the same, leaving a patchwork system of learning across the city's 1,800 schools.

Mr. de Blasio has himself acknowledged that his administration spent much of its time and resources focused on physically reopening classrooms, rather than on improving remote learning, precisely because it understood that in-person learning is generally superior.

But the shortcomings of that strategy are now becoming clear in the demographic breakdown of the roughly 190,000 children returning to classrooms this week.

Of the roughly 1 million students who attend traditional public schools, about 700,000 have chosen to learn from home, and another 110,000 middle and high school students signed up for in-person classes but cannot yet return to school buildings.

Latino students make up the largest share of students returning to classrooms, at about 43 percent, But white children, who are less likely to be low-income than many of their peers, make up a quarter of students back in classrooms, even though they represent just 16 percent of overall enrollment, the smallest percentage of any racial group.

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Black children make up nearly a quarter of the system, but just 18 percent of the students back in schools. Credit... Victor J. Blue for The New York Times

Black and Asian-American families are significantly underrepresented in reopened classrooms. Though Black families make up nearly a quarter of the school system, their children represent just 18 percent of the students back in schools. Asian-American children, who represent about 18 percent of the overall school system, make up the smallest share of children in classrooms this week, at just under 12 percent.

Still, about three-quarters of children returning to schools are nonwhite, in part because the system is overwhelmingly Black and Latino.

There is no one reason the numbers are so skewed. Families of all racial and ethnic groups in New York have decided to return to classrooms or stay home based on individual circumstances. But the data and interviews with parents show that Black and Asian-American families in particular did not trust the city to keep their children safe.

"Clearly, there are Black families who are hesitant, which only makes sense after the disparities they experienced during the heights of the pandemic," Bill Neidhardt, the mayor's press secretary, said in a statement. "And that's exactly why our vaccine response will focus on equity and engaging the hardest-hit communities, so we can get our schools fully back once and for all."

Experts and advocates said more nonwhite students might have chosen to attend classes in person if the city had done a better job of outreach.

In some cases, just the opposite happened: Even while Mr. de Blasio was trumpeting open classrooms, some schools were asking every family that was able to stay at home to do so, in order to ease staffing and scheduling burdens.

But those who chose online learning said they needed more support from the Department of Education.

"I feel like the city treats remote like an afterthought," said Erika Kendall, a Black parent in Brooklyn whose two children decided to learn from home this year.

About 60,000 students learning remotely still had not received the devices they requested as of a few weeks ago, which has spurred some parents to crowd-fund laptops for children who need them. The Legal Aid Society recently sued the city for not providing Wi-Fi in all city shelters so that children can attend school remotely.

City officials said they would distribute devices to all children who need them in the coming weeks, and noted that they have given iPads with data from multiple service providers to some children living in shelters.

Danielle Filson, a spokeswoman for the Department of Education, pointed to resources the city had provided to improve remote learning: for example, expanded technical support for teachers and families and more training for educators, including a master class for using Google Classroom and more help from remote learning specialists.

"We have transformed the nation's largest school system in a matter of months, and we've never strayed from our commitment and focus on making remote learning the strongest it could be," she said in a statement. "In a system as large as ours, educators come into teaching with varying skills, and there can never be a one-size-fits-all approach."

Still, many families said the city's efforts have been seriously lacking, particularly for the children who struggle most with remote learning.

Jenn Choi, a parent and activist for children with disabilities, said a recent survey she helped conduct of over 1,000 city parents of children with special needs left her extremely discouraged about the quality of pandemic-era schooling. "Instruction has been spread so thin to the point where it can't even count as special education instruction," she said.

Mr. de Blasio has continued to defend his focus on reopening classrooms.

"We've always said from the beginning that nothing is as good as in-person education," the mayor said at a recent news conference, adding that he believes a vaccine will be more widely distributed in the spring, allowing more students to return to school. On Monday, the mayor said his team is working on a plan to address learning loss for whenever all students are back in school full-time.

The demographics of the pandemic-era school system do not resemble what the mayor hoped and expected. But entrenched inequities in New York City's public schools far precede his administration or the pandemic. And the mayor's effort to reopen schools for as many children as possible is one of the most ambitious initiatives undertaken by any mayor in years.

Mr. de Blasio has defended his focus on reopening classrooms, even as most parents have chosen to have their children learn from home indefinitely. Credit... Anna Watts for The New York Times

The city has faced particular challenges because of its vast size and the spotlight that has been fixed on it. The second and third largest school districts, Los Angeles and Chicago, still have not attempted to reopen their public schools.

The scale of need among the city's public school students is also unmatched anywhere else in the country, making reopening even more challenging: The vast majority of New York City students are low-income and nonwhite, and the city is home to about 111,000 homeless students as well as 200,000 children with disabilities.

City officials described a series of conversations over the summer in which they tried to determine if one vulnerable group or another should get priority for classroom instruction, but the exercise stalled when they found that the vast majority of students were at risk.

Asked recently what the city was doing to improve online learning for those students, the schools chancellor, Richard A. Carranza, said, "It's not sexy-sounding, it's not big newsworthy, but we're actually taking what teachers are doing and sharing those best practices with other teachers."

Indeed, teachers and principals said they had largely been left to their own devices.

Elsa Gilheany, a kindergarten teacher in the Bronx, spends many mornings tying her laundry bag around her shoulders to resemble a cape, in order to transform into what she calls a reading superhero. She kicks off a round of "pointer power," in which her students point to a word on their screen and sound it out, and "snap power," when children are asked to quickly identify words.

But even with engaged students and parents, Ms. Gilheany said, "It's so much harder to do this through a computer, as opposed to a child being able to physically touch a book."

Nikki Cistac, a high school English teacher in Manhattan, has sent copies of "The Great Gatsby" in Spanish to students' parents who do not speak English at home, so they can follow along with their children. She asked students to create a playlist of their favorite songs, which Ms. Cistac lip-synchs on camera as students log into class.

Now, she said, "kids are rarely late."

Teachers across the city said they had learned to appreciate breakthroughs in virtual learning. For Matt Baker, a high school math teacher in Brooklyn, that moment came a few weeks ago, when his students started singing along to a tune intended to help them memorize the quadratic formula.

But those victories can feel all too rare.

"It's hard to get a good gauge on whether what you're doing is working," Mr. Baker said. "You kind of put it all out there. It's a lot of hoping."

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12,000 More White Children Return to N.Y.C. Schools Than Black Children

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As buildings reopen, many families of color are choosing to keep students home. That disparity is raising alarms, given the shortcomings of remote learning. Mayor Bill de Blasio's monthslong effort to reopen New York City classrooms was complicated by major logistical challenges, staunch political resistance and a series of crises that culminated in a brief systemwide shutdown last month.

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Culturally Relevant Teaching and Culturally Responsive Teaching-what is the difference? 

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Culturally Relevant Teaching and Culturally Responsive Teaching-what is the difference? 

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https://www.nsta.org/science-and-children/science-and-children-marchapril-2021/culturally-relevant-and-culturally

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Culturally Relevant and Culturally Responsive

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How do we engage diverse students in culturally responsive and appropriate ways? 

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How do we engage diverse students in culturally responsive and appropriate ways? 

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When you think about diversity, how does it show itself ? When you stand before your students, do the faces looking back at you look like your own? Most likely, your answer is "no." Classrooms and afterschool programs are becoming more culturally, ethnically, and linguistically diverse, which is leading to both challenges and opportunities for educators.

Often students and educators do not have the same cultural, ethnic, or social background. Why does it matter, and how can you bridge this disconnect? The cultural divide between educators and students can seriously impede teaching and learning. Educators use their own cultural and experiential filters to communicate instructional messages to students; in many instances, those filters are incompatible with the students' cultural filters. Have you considered how your culture influences your students?

Culture plays a huge role in education and in everything we do. Culture shapes our values, beliefs, social interactions, worldview, and what we consider important. It also influences how we see ourselves, how we see our students, how we relate to them, what we teach, and how we teach. It is important to recognize that culture is central to teaching and learning, as it plays a key role in communicating and receiving information, and is vital in sparking interest and effectively engaging students in science, technology, engineering, and mathematics (STEM).

A way for educators to span the cultural divide between them and their students is to build bridges using culturally responsive practices and creating inclusive learning environments. Educators who approach science teaching and learning with a culturally responsive pedagogy (CRP) are effective in bridging that cultural divide. Culturally responsive educators challenge the stereotypical deficit thinking of diverse students (e.g. "culturally deficient," "at risk," "low-performing") by considering cultural differences as assets, valuing students' strengths and skills and acknowledging each student's potential.

So how do we engage diverse students in culturally responsive and appropriate ways? Cultural responsiveness is about developing genuine and trusting relationships with students and validating their strengths and interests. A first step to develop these relationships is getting to know your students as individuals and learning about their culture. Find out their interests and the way they operate at home and in their community. This also will help you better understand how to connect STEM to their lives and make learning experiences relevant for them.

To learn about students' culture, we first must understand our own culture and how it affects the way we relate to students. Educators often believe that they can be neutral and objective, but their life experiences and cultures (e.g., values, assumptions, and beliefs) impact how they relate to students. Sometimes these assumptions and beliefs manifest as implicit biases, which could negatively affect students. We all have implicit biases: attitudes or stereotypes that influence our understanding, actions, and decisions in an unconscious way. We need to examine our sociocultural identities and become aware of and challenge our unconscious biases to better understand ourselves and effectively communicate and work with students.

Another key aspect of CRP is creating an inviting, inclusive learning environment. In such an environment, students believe their contributions and perspectives are valued and respected. They feel that they belong. This positively impacts students' interest and motivation in STEM.

The need to belong is a basic human need that influences our behavior and motivations. When students feel that they belong in the learning environment, they feel connected to and accepted by their peers and teachers. They feel validated in a way that is accepting and positive, which increases their engagement and motivation. In an inclusive learning environment, educators use teaching strategies that accommodate students' needs in terms of learning styles, abilities, backgrounds, and experiences.

Analyzing the type of environment you created for your students is a great way to begin transitioning to an inclusive learning environment. For example, do your students feel empowered and capable of discussing concerns or challenges with you or their peers? How do your teaching practices foster a learning community in which each student is valued and considered? What strategies do you use to support diverse learners?

Culture is a key element of every learning environment. It shapes both the learning environment and the experience of each student. Cultural responsiveness is a powerful approach that allows educators to improve STEM engagement and equity. Whichever strategies you use to make the learning environment more inclusive, remember to remain sensitive to and flexible about the ways diverse students think, behave, and communicate. This will help create a supportive learning environment in which students are motivated to learn, and allows them to grow intellectually, socially, and emotionally.

Alicia Santiago, PhD, is a neurobiologist and a cultural and diversity consultant with more than 10 years of experience in informal science education. She collaborates with Twin Cities PBS to develop and implement innovative direct and mass media science and health education national-level programs for the Latinx community. She can be reached by e-mail at santiago554@gmail.com.

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Equity in STEM Education: It's All About Culture! | NSTA

# data[].attributes.attachment_link.description
When you think about diversity, how does it show itself ? When you stand before your students, do the faces looking back at you look like your own? Most likely, your answer is "no." Classrooms and afterschool programs are becoming more culturally, ethnically, and linguistically diverse, which is leading to both challenges and opportunities for educators.

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Disproportionate identification of students of color in special education.

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Disproportionate identification of students of color in special education.

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https://ldaamerica.org/lda_today/disproportionate-identification-of-students-of-color-in-special-education/

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Disproportionate Identification of Students of Color in Special Education – Learning Disabilities Association of America

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In Dec. 2016, the United States Department of Education (USDOE) finalized guidance and regulations to address racial and ethnic disparities in special education eligibility, placement, and school discipline and the commonly accepted fact that “…children of color with disabilities are overrepresented within the special education population” (King, 2016).

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What are the implications of race on the humanizing of individuals and their actions? 

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What are the implications of race on the humanizing of individuals and their actions? 

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SDPgzDk2oVo

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Why We Should’ve Seen the Atlanta Shootings Coming | The Daily Social Distancing Show

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https://www.nytimes.com/2020/09/04/nyregion/nyc-schools-reopening.html

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So far, nearly 40 percent of families have opted to have their children learn fully remotely when public schools reopen on Sept. 21.

Lisandra Sanchez recently told her 14-year-old son, Johan, that she did not think it was safe for him to physically attend school in Harlem. Credit... Jackie Molloy for The New York Times

Adriana Aviles has been holding dress rehearsals for the first day of school. Her three children wear face masks in their Queens home all day, every other day, to practice for when they return to school buildings in a few weeks.

Ms. Aviles says her children cannot wait to go back to school, and she is frustrated that the city recently delayed the start date by nearly two weeks, to Sept. 21.

"We'll get some normalcy hopefully, and God willing we'll be OK," she said of the return to school. "We practiced what we need to practice."

Across the city, in Harlem, Lisandra Sanchez recently delivered some disappointing news to her son, a rising high school freshman: She did not think it was safe for him to physically attend school because some classes might be held outdoors. She is worried about crime around the building, so she opted her son out of in-person learning.

"In the community where I live at, it's not really safe," Ms. Sanchez said.

New York City, home to the nation's largest school district, is poised to be the only big city in the country to offer in-person education at the start of its school year. Mayor Bill de Blasio has faced resistance from some educators and politicians in his bid to reopen classrooms, but has said he is determined to bring children back into school buildings to support the city's overwhelmingly Black, Latino and low-income student body.

Students who decide to return to classrooms will report to school between one and three days a week to allow for social distancing.

"I have heard the voices of thousands and thousands of parents over the years," Mr. de Blasio said in a recent interview. "They need this," he said of in-person instruction, "and it's our obligation to give it to them."

Yet many parents said they were exhausted from a summer of conflicting information and last-minute changes on school reopening, particularly the mayor's recent decision to delay the start of the school year just 10 days before school buildings were scheduled to open.

Nearly 40 percent of parents have opted to have their children learn fully remotely through at least the first few months of the school year. That number, which could grow before the start of classes, reflects the deep divide among the city's families about how to approach in-person learning.

No two perspectives seem exactly alike.

In interviews, some parents said that remote learning in the spring had been a complete failure for their children, and that they were desperate to get them into schools as soon as possible. Others said there were simply too many unknowns about the coronavirus to reassure them that school buildings would be safe. And some said they were still grappling with whether they should send their children back or not.

Recent polling has shown that the Black and Latino families that make up roughly 70 percent of the city's 1.1 million-student system have been especially wary of sending their children back to school, reflecting the disproportionately harsh impact the virus has had on their communities.

So far, over half of Asian-American families have opted into remote learning, the highest rate of any ethnic group in the city. Roughly 35 percent of Black and Latino parents have chosen all-remote, while only 25 percent of white families have opted out of in-person classes.

Some schools have encouraged or in some cases explicitly asked parents to choose remote-only, either to give children with disabilities and other vulnerable students more time for in-person instruction, or to make it simpler for schools to offer all their usual classes and arrange schedules.

A high-performing school district in northeast Queens that educates many first- and second-generation immigrants has seen the highest percentage of families opt out of in-person learning of any of the city's 32 local school districts, at 50 percent. The lowest opt-out rates have been on Staten Island, home to many white and middle-class families, and in Bushwick, Brooklyn, a largely Latino neighborhood.

The middle school that Emily Paige runs in Clinton Hill, Brooklyn, shows a split on remote learning, even among families who live in the same neighborhood and whose children attend the same school.

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Emily Page, left, and Annie Annunziato, with their son, Aydan Jarrell, in Astoria, Queens. All three will be returning to schools this month: Ms. Page and Ms. Annunziato work in schools, and Aydan will attend some in-person classes. Credit... Jackie Molloy for The New York Times

Half of the parents at her school, the Urban Assembly Unison School, have opted into remote learning, and half have indicated they would prefer in-person education. About 80 percent of Ms. Paige's students are Black and most of the rest are Latino.

"There are parents who are really, really, really, fearful," Ms. Paige said, noting that some of her students had lost friends and family members to the virus, and that some lived in multigenerational homes. And then there were plenty of families who had weighed the risks and felt it was worth it for their children to spend less time on their screens and more time with their friends.

Ms. Paige is one of those parents: She has decided to send her son to school later this month. "I find myself as a mom yearning for him to have social interactions," she said, adding that she had received a litany of emails from her students, asking when they could come back to school.

Ms. Paige is one of the hundreds of principals who have spent the past month pushing the city to delay the start of school, citing safety and logistical issues.

After weeks of pressure to change the start date, Mr. de Blasio finally relented earlier this week, as part of a deal to avert a teachers' strike. Union leaders had threatened to authorize an illegal strike if schools did not have more time to secure personal protective gear, upgrade ventilation systems and train staff on new safety protocols. And principals pleaded with the mayor to give them more time to create two versions of school: one in-person and one online.

Listen to 'The Daily': A Messy Return to School in New York

As the United States' largest public school system vows to let students return to the classroom, the run-up to the first day of school through the eyes of one teacher illustrates what these plans involve.

Back to The Daily

transcript

Listen to 'The Daily': A Messy Return to School in New York

Hosted by Michael Barbaro, produced by Kaitlin Roberts, Sydney Harper and Luke Vander Ploeg, and edited by Lisa Tobin

As the United States' largest public school system vows to let students return to the classroom, the run-up to the first day of school through the eyes of one teacher illustrates what these plans involve.

[music]

michael barbaro

From The New York Times, I'm Michael Barbaro. This is The Daily.

michael barbaro

Amid a raging national debate over how to safely reopen schools, the nation's largest public school system, New York City, has pledged to let every student return to the classroom, citing months of low infection rates.

michael barbaro

But from the start, it's been a messy process. Families are deeply divided about whether to send their children to school for two to three days a week, what the city is calling blended learning, or to opt for fully remote learning.

michael barbaro

While teachers fear that they aren't fully prepared for either option.

michael barbaro

Today, what the run up to the first day of school has looked like through the eyes of a single teacher, Iolani Grullon, who spoke to The Daily's Lisa Chow.

It's Friday, September 18.

archived recording (lisa chow)

I've just come out of the 181st subway station. And I am headed to meet a teacher. Is that her?

Hi. How are you?

archived recording (iolani grullon)

Good. How are you?

archived recording (lisa chow)

Good. My name's Lisa.

archived recording (iolani grullon)

Hi, Lisa. How are you? I'm Iolani. I'm doing well, thank you.

archived recording (lisa chow)

Yeah. I like your mask. [LAUGHS]

archived recording (iolani grullon)

Thank you.

archived recording (lisa chow)

OK. So let me- so why don't you just tell me, like, where we are right now?

archived recording (iolani grullon)

So we're in front of PS 48 on 186th Street and Broadway in Washington Heights. And this is where I teach kindergarten dual language.

archived recording (lisa chow)

And how long have you been working here?

archived recording (iolani grullon)

This is my 15th year- [BACKGROUND CONVESATION]

archived recording (lisa chow)

At this school?

archived recording (iolani grullon)

Mhm. This is Ms. Frances.

archived recording

I'm so camera shy.

archived recording (lisa chow)

Hey. No cameras. Just audio.

archived recording (iolani grullon)

Oh, even better. Wonderful. This is my good friend and colleague.

archived recording (ms. frances)

Hi. I'm Ms. Frances. I'm Iolani's good friend and colleague. [LAUGHTER]

archived recording (iolani grullon)

Are you walking with me?

archived recording (lisa chow)

I'm going to walk with you.

archived recording (iolani grullon)

All right. Cool.

archived recording (ms. frances)

OK. See you soon.

archived recording (iolani grullon)

I'll call you tonight, Ms. Frances.

archived recording (ms. frances)

OK. OK.

archived recording (lisa chow)

OK. So actually, let's just first describe what we're doing here. So I have a mask on. You have a mask on. We're walking to your home. And have you been doing this walk every day during training?

archived recording (iolani grullon)

I haven't done it every single day, but mostly.

archived recording (lisa chow)

Yeah.

archived recording (iolani grullon)

I feel a little antsy getting on the bus. I mean, it makes me anxious to get- to be in the building as well, you know. And every day, we hear, you know, oh, another school has positive cases. Oh, another school has- I mean, I don't even know what number we're up to at this point. I think it's, like, 55 teachers. And you know, they're expecting that. And they've said they're expecting it.

archived recording (lisa chow)

So the conversation among teachers, I mean, what has that been like? Like, what are people feeling?

archived recording (iolani grullon)

Anxious. There isn't a lot of direction. The difficult part, what we were talking about today, some of my colleagues and I, spending the entire day in a mask is really hard. I can't even imagine, like, teaching kindergarten through a mask. I have to do letters and letter sounds in two languages. Because I'm a dual language teacher. So I teach in English and in Spanish.

archived recording (lisa chow)

How does the mask complicate things?

archived recording (iolani grullon)

Well, because they can't see my mouth. I think I'm going to get one of those with the clear plastic or where the lips are. Maybe I'll invest in some of those.

archived recording (lisa chow)

What do you think you would need to be- like, what do you think the schools would need to be ready?

archived recording (iolani grullon)

We need to go remote for a little bit. You know? I'm listening to doctors and scientists. I know that's, like, controversial these days. But what I've been reading, experts are saying that we need to brace ourselves for this fall and winter. So why not? We still have time to come up with meaningful remote lessons, learning. We can meet about it. We can create things together. We've been so busy cleaning classrooms and setting them up like it's a regular school year. It feels like the higher ups are in denial.

archived recording (lisa chow)

What do you mean? Well, we've been putting together our classrooms as if it were a regular year. Meanwhile, we've also been told, be prepared to go remote at any given moment. How can I prepare to go remote at any given moment if I'm busy setting up a room? I don't even know. I'm not even sure what's going to be allowed. I heard a rumor, I read it somewhere. I don't know how true it is. That we're not going to be giving students paper and collecting paper from them. So what am I doing? Am I teaching them on an iPad. I don't know. I don't know that yet. So what have your feelings been over the course of the past week and kind of coming into this week?

archived recording (iolani grullon)

I go through waves of, like, anxiety, to being hopeful that it works out, to just being worried. Am I going to be prepared?

I need to know what I'm doing when I'm teaching in person. Like, is there somebody that's going to be teaching those kids when they're home, the kids that are blended, but when they're home, am I going to be responsible for that? How am I going to pull that off?

archived recording (lisa chow)

It's like three different jobs.

archived recording (iolani grullon)

Yes. Yes, it is.

archived recording (lisa chow)

It's the full remote, the in-person, and then, the blended.

archived recording (iolani grullon)

And then the blended remote. Yes. And I think about that. Like, my eyes will pop open at 3:30 in the morning and that's it for me. I'm awake. You know? And then my own, of course, personal situation, where I can't bring this to my daughter. And I could be asymptomatic and bring it home. And that is what weighs on me the most, of course. Oh my goodness.

archived recording (lisa chow)

OK. So we just have arrived in your apartment building?

archived recording (iolani grullon)

Yes. This is my building.

[DOOR OPENING] Hey. Please come in. I'm just going to wash my hands, Lisa.

archived recording (lisa chow)

Can you just walk me through your routine?

archived recording (iolani grullon)

So I'm washing my hands. Usually when I get here, I go immediately to take a shower. But I'm not going to make you wait. So since I'm not going to do that today, I make sure to wash my hands. As a matter of fact, I usually take those shoes off and leave them by the door. Because my routine is to just go straight into the bathroom and shower and spray some Lysol in there. This is Leila.

archived recording (lisa chow)

Hi, Leila.

archived recording (iolani grullon)

Leila, that's Lisa.

archived recording (lisa chow)

Hi, I'm Lisa. Yeah.

archived recording (iolani grullon)

She's recording. I want you guys to say hi.

archived recording (lisa chow)

It's just audio. It's no video.

archived recording (iolani grullon)

It's not your face.

archived recording (lisa chow)

Hi, I'm Lisa.

archived recording (iolani grullon)

These are two 13-year-olds, Lisa.

archived recording (chloe)

Hi.

archived recording (lisa chow)

What's your name?

archived recording (chloe)

I'm Chloe.

archived recording (lisa chow)

And what's your name?

archived recording (leila)

Leila.

archived recording (lisa chow)

OK. Hi, Leila.

archived recording (iolani grullon)

And let's go to- let's go sit in the living room, because it's easier. We're going to sit here, because I can socially distance with Lisa from here.

archived recording

Yeah, go ahead.

archived recording (iolani grullon)

So can I sit on one end of the couch [SPEAKING SPANISH].

Lisa, come in.

archived recording (lisa chow)

OK.

So tell me about your kids.

archived recording (iolani grullon)

So my kids are great. They're very independent. Liam is an amazing big brother. You know, he's very attentive with his sisters. He will be in charge of remote learning, 'cause he's learning remotely. So they'll be home together, the three of them. The girls are obviously not going to go into the buildings. Chloe, being immunocompromised, it's not advised that she go in the building. So they're going to be learning remotely.

archived recording (lisa chow)

And so on the walk, you were talking to me about how this is weighing on you, obviously. And we didn't get into it much. But can you talk to me a little bit about that, in terms of just your work and thinking about your family? Like, what keeps you up at night?

archived recording (iolani grullon)

Possibly infecting my daughter, absolutely, that's number one. She was born with a congenital heart defect. She had her heart transplant at about 15 months old. Even though she has a heart transplant, she's a healthy girl. But you know, there have been a lot of bumps in the road as well. There have been times that we've done Christmas in the hospital for different things or whatever. Whenever she does have a fever, I have to bring her to the emergency room. She can't just, like, sit out a fever at home. She can't do that. So whenever she does-

archived recording (lisa chow)

And why is that?

archived recording (iolani grullon)

Because you don't know what it could be from. It could be her heart. I mean, rejection could sometimes show in a fever. So yeah. But taking care of her and her heart is a full-time job as well.

archived recording (lisa chow)

So this is something that you live with day in and day out.

archived recording (iolani grullon)

Yes. I'm very stressed out by it. Because I know for a fact that Chloe wouldn't do well with COVID. She just wouldn't. I don't even like to really think about what could happen. But I know what could happen.

archived recording (lisa chow)

Let's go back to the end of the school year. So back in June when school wrapped up, what was the message coming from your principal, from the mayor? Were city leaders basically saying, we're going to be opening in person? Or-

archived recording (iolani grullon)

There was no message. There was no message. Nothing was said until about maybe sometime in late July. The mayor announced, we will be reopening.

archived recording (lisa chow)

Do you remember what your reaction was?

archived recording (iolani grullon)

Yeah. Complete disbelief - I could not believe that they were going to open this way, with no real concrete plan, just pick a model. Let us know what the model is. And make it work. And principals then decided which of the models their school would be using as far as blended and remote. Families were told, your children can be remote only. But schools couldn't go remote only.

archived recording (lisa chow)

But teachers couldn't?

archived recording (iolani grullon)

Right.

archived recording (lisa chow)

When the mayor announced that schools would be reopening and have a blend of remote, in person, and you were in complete shock, after that, then what happened? And you have this situation at home, you know, with your daughter, like, were you reaching out to the D.O.E.?

archived recording (iolani grullon)

I filled out an application for remote accommodations immediately. They came out- I believe they came out July 15, a few days after the announcement was made. So teachers could apply for remote accommodations based on their own health. I applied anyway. And I submitted a letter from my daughter's transplant team. Immediately denied, because I'm not the one at risk. But it just doesn't make sense. When you look at the C.D.C. list of possible health issues that you have in order to receive remote accommodations, at the very top, one of the top three things is immunocompromised because of a solid organ transplantation. It literally says it. OK. So I'm not the one with the solid organ transplantation, but my daughter is. And we're dealing with a highly infectious virus. It just doesn't make any sense. It doesn't make any sense. My daughter's- one of her cardiologists, actually, asked me the last time we spoke, are you going to stay home? And I was, like, no. They were, like, what? Are you really? Do you need a letter? What do you need? And I was, like, no. You guys have given me what I would need. But it's not- it's not enough.

archived recording (lisa chow)

So it's just denied. It was flat out denied.

archived recording (iolani grullon)

It was just flat out denied. And I've had advocates that have pushed for me from the city. And the city has told-

there's a person that has been pushing for me. I taught her daughter. Coincidentally, she happens to work for a New York senator. Coincidence, right? And she said to me that when she's asked about it or pushed for it, what the city has said to her, the D.O.E. has said to her, is that teacher sure she doesn't have one of these listed conditions? It's, like, of course, I'm sure. Who wouldn't be sure of their own health? Are you trying to get me to come up with a condition? Like, what are you doing? Why would they ask are you sure? That's been twice. Yes, I'm sure. You know, I'm not going to lie. I do not smoke. And thankfully, I am healthy. My daughter's condition should be enough.

archived recording (lisa chow)

So you think that they're trying to push you into saying that you have one of these conditions so you can get exempt, but not tell the truth, which is that you don't have these conditions but your daughter does?

archived recording (iolani grullon)

Yeah. What are you supposed to make of that?

archived recording (lisa chow)

Well, it sounds like they might want to help you, but also, you know, they're trying to follow the rules.

archived recording (iolani grullon)

Mhm. It's just not the way things are supposed to be done.

michael barbaro

We'll be right back.

archived recording (lisa chow)

So you're asking for an exemption, but I'm just wondering, do you feel that teachers, if they didn't have high risk people living at home with them, and they didn't have these conditions listed on the C.D.C. website, do you think that they should be teaching in person?

archived recording (iolani grullon)

No. They should not be in person teaching. It can be done remotely. And it can be done well remotely. All we needed was some time to get it done and some real training on it. And maybe the city buy a platform for it that everybody can use or have a choice of platforms. There are so many resources out there. And the city chose not to.

archived recording (lisa chow)

Do you know your schedule next week yet?

archived recording (iolani grullon)

No. I don't, not yet.

archived recording (lisa chow)

So there could be days where- I mean, are all five days, are you going to have some sort of in person interactions?

archived recording (iolani grullon)

Yes.

archived recording (lisa chow)

Or are there going to be some- oh, yes.

archived recording (iolani grullon)

Next week, as in the week of the 21st? Yeah, they're coming. The kids are coming. I'm getting Group A on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. And then Group B Thursday, Friday, and the following Monday.

And then Group A again, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, and then Group A. What job can anybody have where they say, hey, I need two days out of the week off, some weeks three days? What days? I don't know. It's going to constantly rotate. What job is going to do that for people? How are people going to go back to work?

archived recording (lisa chow)

How fraught does this moment feel for you, in terms of just conversations with your non-teacher friends? Like, conversations with friends who are parents who are really struggling at home with kids because their kids are learning remotely? Does it feel sometimes like there's just a constant running tension sometimes between parents and teachers?

archived recording (iolani grullon)

Yes. Yes, there is. You know, especially under these circumstances. There are people out there and parents out there that think that, oh, teachers are putting up a fight because they don't want to go back to work. These parents, I think some of them are under the assumption that we were home doing nothing in the spring, when that is not the case.

We were home behind the computer. And some of us were very anxious about just our computer skills and feeling like, oh, my God. Am I doing enough? Am I doing enough? Am I doing enough? That was the running question in my mind all day everyday during the spring. Am I assigning enough? I don't want it to be too much. It is a pandemic. But I don't want it to be too little, where it seems like I'm not doing my job. It's just crazy. And yeah, there have been parents who have made some comments, like, you know, like, we just don't want to go to work.

That's not the case. Remote was not easy. So it's not a walk in the park to go remote, either. It's just about safety at this point. This is like a cluster- [LAUGHS] -you know what I mean? Gosh. It's so disorganized. But here we are, running back to school six months in.

And I feel, like, you know, if I were the mayor and I opened up New York City schools, the largest school district in the nation, that would look pretty cool on my resume, on my political resume.

archived recording (lisa chow)

Mhm. So you think this is a political move for him?

archived recording (iolani grullon)

Partly, yep. I do.

archived recording (lisa chow)

In terms of the question of kids falling behind, you know, that is a concern that Mayor de Blasio has talked about, kids falling behind. You know, the number of kids in- especially in New York City, the number of kids that are poor, the number of kids that are with special needs, and this idea of being out of school with out in person instruction since March. But what do you think of that?

archived recording (iolani grullon)

Well, I think that those are real concerns especially around the area of the students with special needs. OK? But we are in a global pandemic. So when we think about kids falling behind, yeah, it is a real concern. And I get it, because I'm a mom, too. But I also think about it as a teacher. Falling behind what? They're home, safe, healthy, and alive. If your kid's alive and healthy, we can work on it.

archived recording (lisa chow)

How are teachers communicating with each other during this time?

archived recording (iolani grullon)

Well, those of us that know each other personally, you know, we call. We zoom. We have group chats going. We have a page on Facebook for teachers only where you can post anonymously or you can comment on somebody's post.

And this is how we find out about a lot of the other conditions in other buildings, aside from our own. You know?

archived recording (lisa chow)

Do you want to read some of the comments that you're reading?

archived recording (iolani grullon)

Yeah. Somebody wrote today, you know, "Day five in the building and no temperature checks. What are we waiting for?" "Anybody else's protective plexiglass not clear? Can't see out of it." Somebody wrote, "I still don't know what I'm teaching. I have spent almost 100% of my time getting devices ready for and out to families." "Teaching a new grade. I'm so overwhelmed and so confused." That's another one. And then there's also this going on.

archived recording (lisa chow)

What's this?

archived recording (iolani grullon)

This is people are also posting about the people that we lost in the union, you know? And posting pictures and just saying, you know, we should be thinking about them at this time, too, you know? Which is true. Which is true.

archived recording (lisa chow)

What is that, specifically? Do you want to read that one?

archived recording (iolani grullon)

This one is about a teacher. I'm not going to say her name. But she was 52-years-old And she was a wonderful teacher, active, enthusiastic member of the school community. She mentored new teachers. She reached out to students with disabilities or those having a difficult time at home and was always there to applaud performances. Just, you know, what a wonderful person she was. It's a long, long post. And she passed away on Saturday, April 4, 16 days after schools were closed. That's heavy.

And the whole thing has been out of the mayor's mouth, kids need this. They need it. They need it. They need it. Yes, they do. I- I agree. At what cost?

archived recording (lisa chow)

You ever think about getting sick?

archived recording (iolani grullon)

Yeah. I've thought about it.

Of course I've thought about it. I'm just so overwhelmed with Chloe's situation, that I haven't given much thought. You know, it's not written anywhere that if I do get sick that I'm not going to be the one to have a hard time with it. So yeah, I mean, I've thought about it. Of course I have. But you know, my immediate thought is, oh, my God. If I do, I'm going to bring it home. That's my more immediate thought always, about bringing it home. And what if I have to quarantine because I've been around someone or one of my students and say, oh, they closed down my class. Where do I go do that? I've already came up with a plan with my coworker that you met, because she's one of my very best friends. I've said to her, if I call you and I tell you that I have to quarantine before I can go home, you have to go and get my kids out and get them to pack. We'll put them in an Uber, airport, and they're going to North Carolina. That's where Liam's father lives.

archived recording (lisa chow)

And that's your plan?

archived recording (iolani grullon)

If I have to quarantine, they got to get out of here. Because where am I going to go? I can't go quarantine in somebody's house. I'll put them in danger. So if I have to quarantine, they gotta go before I walk in the house. That's a ridiculous way to live.

archived recording (lisa chow)

And quarantining, that just means that a kid in your class tests positive?

archived recording (iolani grullon)

Or was exposed, and they decide that we need to all quarantine. Yes.

archived recording (lisa chow)

I mean, that could very well happen.

archived recording (iolani grullon)

Oh, absolutely. Of course, it could happen. Of course. I mean, our numbers are good. But they're not zero. So it absolutely could happen, absolutely. at any given moment I could have to quarantine because of either the class, or maybe the school itself, whatever the reason. And if I have to quarantine, they got to go.

archived recording (lisa chow)

You feel very strongly about that?

archived recording (iolani grullon)

Yes. I will not quarantine with my kids in this house, especially not with Chloe in this house, absolutely not. Absolutely not.

[music]

michael barbaro

On Thursday, two days after Lisa spoke with Iolani Grullon, New York City Mayor Bill de Blasio delayed the start of in-person classes.

michael barbaro

During a news conference, the mayor acknowledged that the city had failed to overcome the obstacles to bringing students back and that teachers and administrators were not yet comfortable with the city's preparations.

michael barbaro

Instead of opening on Monday as planned, elementary schools, including Grullon's class, will open on September 29. Middle and high schools will open even later, on October 1.

We'll be right back.

Here's what else you need to know today.

michael barbaro

In an unusual move, two former Trump administration officials are endorsing Joe Biden, saying that President Trump has badly mismanaged the pandemic and the presidency.

michael barbaro

The officials are Josh Venable, former chief of staff to Betsy DeVos, the secretary of education, and Olivia Troy, a top homeland security aide to Vice President Mike Pence, who recorded a video explaining her decision.

michael barbaro

And officials in New Jersey have agreed to adopt a so-called millionaire's tax to alleviate shortfalls caused by the coronavirus in what may become a model for budget-strapped states across the country.

michael barbaro

The measure would tax earnings over $1 million at 10.75%, up from the current rate of 8.97% and is expected to raise nearly $400 million over the next year.

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Ms. Paige's relief at the delay was shared by educators who said they only wished the mayor had announced the new start date earlier.

Mike Loeb, a middle school science teacher in the Bronx, said he appreciated having more time to prepare. But he said he was concerned about the quality of instruction he could offer when his students could not do group work or share lab materials.

"I don't think a lot of people have thought through what this experience is going to be like for a 13-year-old," he said.

Josée Bienvenu, a parent in Brooklyn, is trying to think it through. She has chosen to send her son and daughter back to school, but she still is not sure what the first day of school will look like, or which days they will attend class in person.

She was hoping for more clarity from an upcoming Zoom meeting for parents. For now, she said, "no one has answers."

Josée Bienvenu with her children, Louise and Julien Oppenheimer, and her husband, Toby Oppenheimer, in Brooklyn. Ms. Bienvenu said she was still waiting to find out which days Louise and Julien would attend in-person classes. Credit... Jackie Molloy for The New York Times

But she was clear about one thing: Anything was preferable to remote learning, which she said could turn children into "zombies," tethered to their screens all day and into the night.

"How long can we keep our children disconnected?" Ms. Bienvenu said.

She has also been frustrated by what she sees as a political fight between the mayor and the teachers' union, the powerful United Federation of Teachers, that has not centered on the needs of parents.

"I feel that teachers are frontline workers as much as nurses and supermarket workers," she said. "But if they are required to go back, they need to be protected."

Ms. Sanchez, the parent in Harlem, would agree that remote learning had been frustrating for her son, and said that she had hoped to send him back into the classroom for his first year of high school. But questions just kept piling up: What would flu season be like? Would her school use a neighboring street for outdoor classes, which Ms. Sanchez believed would be unsafe?

The delayed start date, she said, validated her decision to opt into all-remote learning.

"If you're changing the start date, that means you guys are not ready," she said. "The way I'm thinking, there's a lot of parents thinking that way, too."

Frankie Brown is also worried about sending her children back into classrooms. But like many parents, she feels she has little choice.

"We don't know how safe it is for the kids to go back to school," she said. "But in my case, I'm a single working parent, so I'm kind of pushed against the wall. I have to actually put them back in school. That has me nervous, but I don't have much option."

Ms. Brown, a hospital clerk who lives in Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn, is not sure which days her children will be attending school, and what they will do on days when she is at work while they are learning at home. She has applied for seats in a new city child-care program and for an after-school program at the Salvation Army, but still hasn't heard back.

The feeling that there are few good options is pervasive among New York's public school parents.

After months of deliberation, Jordan Smith, who lives in Sunnyside, Queens, recently decided to send her son to pre-K in person.

Ms. Smith said she was optimistic, but had lingering worries that she could come to regret her choice if school reopening went poorly.

"Every decision right now feels impossible and uncertain," Ms. Smith said. "I don't think anything will feel 100 percent right."

Sean Piccoli contributed reporting.

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N.Y.C. Parents Are Exhausted. But Will They Send Their Children to School?

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So far, nearly 40 percent of families have opted to have their children learn fully remotely when public schools reopen on Sept. 21. Adriana Aviles has been holding dress rehearsals for the first day of school. Her three children wear face masks in their Queens home all day, every other day, to practice for when they return to school buildings in a few weeks.

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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3y6xwH88kpg

“You never had to look at me. I had to look at you. I know more about you than you know about me. Not everything that is faced can be changed; but nothing can be changed until it is faced.”

What is James Baldwin saying with this quote?

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I Am Not Your Negro | James Baldwin on the Dick Cavett Show | Netflix

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How does this oppression show up in our schools? 

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How does this oppression show up in our schools? 

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Why women are fighting back against hair oppression

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New legalisation to protect natural hair has brought national attention to this form of discrimination.

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How does racial representation in film and the arts translate into other areas of our lives? 

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How does racial representation in film and the arts translate into other areas of our lives? 

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"Anyone can wear the mask," Miles Morales says in Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse. But there was a time when that didn't always seem entirely true. For decades, Spider-Man has been Peter Parker. Sure, there have been alternate versions, daughters from the future, and those born of Marvel's questions of "what if," but at the end of the day, we knew that Peter Parker was Spider-Man. But when Miles Morales swung onto the scene in 2011, he changed things. This Afro-Latino boy who would become Spider-Man was a sign of our times, a reminder of the past, and a means of hope for the future.

Sony's Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, which lands in theaters this weekend, is a celebration of that sentiment. Under the tutelage of Spider-Men and Spider-Women from alternate realities, Miles Morales learns to become his own Spider-Man. But that means more than just putting on a costume. Into the Spider-Verse isn't just the next great leap in superhero movies because of its introduction of the comic book multiverse, but because it treats black and Latino heritage as a key piece of a superhero identity, and that's just as important as any spider symbol.

Let's back up for a moment. When Stan Lee and Steve Ditko created Spider-Man in 1962, they created a character tailor-made for younger readers. Teenage Peter Parker didn't fit in with his peers, he made mistakes and even as Spider-Man he wasn't immediately embraced by older superheroes like the Fantastic Four and the Avengers. Additionally, most of Spider-Man's earliest villains were older men, poisoned by their own worldviews. The fact that so many kids are drawn to Spider-Man should come as no surprise. It's equally unsurprising that so many remain fans through their teenage years and into adulthood. Following Peter's adventures provided a means to grow up with the character, change as he changed, while never losing sight of the responsibility that comes with growth. Spider-Man is a bridge. For many kids he's an entry point into the world of superheroes, be that through comic books, animated series, video games or movies.

Part of the reason behind that accessibility is because Spider-Man doesn't operate on terms of race. I can't remember a time when Spider-Man wasn't a part of my life, and I think part of the appeal, as it is for so many other children of color, is that you can't see behind the mask. It doesn't matter if you don't have Superman's blue eyes or Batman's superior chin. It doesn't even really matter what gender you are. In the comics Peter Parker may be Spider-Man. But at home, on the playground, in our minds, we could be Spider-Man because our sense of humor, our joys, our pains, were just as important as Peter Parker's. But what if we could be just as much like Spider-Man when we unmasked as well?

In the pages of Ultimate Spider-Man (2000) Brian Michael Bendis and Mark Bagley re-envisioned Spider-Man for the 21st century, capitalizing on the buzz surrounding the production of Sam Raimi's (2002). For a decade Bendis told Peter Parker's story, reinventing friends and enemies, and asking how a teenage superhero would function in the world of cellphones, Internet and instant celebrity. But even as he was telling this story, the world was rapidly changing. America was experiencing a shift in culture. The immigration of Mexicans and Africans to America was receiving increased attention, schools were becoming increasingly diverse, biracial relationships were increasingly common and our language was changing not only in the increase of bilingual persons, but in how our slang was infused with Spanish and Ebonics. In 2008, America elected President Barack Obama, whose biracial background and message of hope also served as a bridge. Two years later, Sony announced it would be rebooting the Spider-Man film series with The Amazing Spider-Man (2012) and actor-rapper Donald Glover expressed interest in playing Peter Parker. The idea caught on and gained momentum, sparking conversations that begged the question, "Why does Spider-Man have to be white?"

In the pages of Ultimate Comics: Spider-Man, Bendis and artist Sara Pichelli answered this question with a firm "he doesn't." Together, and undoubtedly influenced by Bendis' own experiences as part of a multiracial family, they gave life to a biracial Brooklyn boy whose struggles and triumphs made him just as endearing as Peter Parker, but uniquely his own man. Miles Morales proved to be a huge win for biracial visibility, one praised by Stan Lee for being a role model to children of color. While he began his exploits in an alternate Ultimate dimension, one where 16-year-old Peter Parker died in a battle against the Green Goblin, Miles proved so popular that he was eventually brought over into the main Marvel Universe, not as a replacement for Parker or as a sidekick, but as his own individual Spider-Man whose stories could stand on their own. Miles goes against so many established superhero tropes. He's not an orphan and instead comes from an unbroken household with two loving and supportive parents. He's smart and a little nerdy, but not an outsider. And he's protective of his racial identity, refusing to be limited by it. When the fact that he's a kid of color is revealed on a YouTube show ( Spider-Man No. 2), Miles says he doesn't want the qualification. "I don't want to be the black Spider-Man. I want to be Spider-Man. First of all, I am half Hispanic," he says. In an era where we so often search for easy, limiting labels, it's hugely important that Miles Morales isn't a novelty character like a number of race-bent comic characters have been over the years, but a character who is biracial and Spider-Man, not Spider-Man because he is biracial. But of course being biracial does affect the kind of Spider-Man Miles Morales is.

To say 2018 has been a stellar year for Miles Morales would be an understatement. From his vital role in Spider-Man PS4, to his comic book relaunch, Miles Morales: Spider-Man from Saladin Ahmed and Javier Garron, Miles Morales' stellar year is perfectly capped off with Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse. It took 40 years for Peter Parker to come to life on the big screen. Miles did it in seven. Not only because the industry had changed, but because we needed him there - a reminder of the hope and diversity that has been fought against in the time since President Obama's term ended. The animated Into the Spider-Verse, directed by the team of Peter Ramsey, Bob Persichetti and Rodney Rothman, takes many elements from Bendis' run on the character, along with those writers and artists who have populated Spider-Man's multi-verse over the decade, to create a film that gives us the best version of Miles Morales' story.

It's not just superheroics that make Into the Spider-Verse work. It's culture. We're given a sense of Miles Morales' (Shameik Moore) identity in and out of the costume, and shown how the two sides work together to create a fully fleshed out character. In the film's opening we see Miles listening to hip-hop with his headphones on, while sketching graffiti tags in a notebook. As he gets ready for school he speaks to his mom, Rio (Luna Lauren Velez), in a blend of English and Spanish that feels authentic. When we see him on the streets we see him interact with his neighbors - people like him and he likes them. He represents Brooklyn, and he knows his place there. Immediately, the film lets those unfamiliar with the character in on the fact that Miles Morales is not Peter Parker shaded darker. Nor is the world he's living in a black fantasy like Wakanda. To quote Glover, "this is America." The subtext concerning Miles' identity is evident across the film. From feeling out of place in his new private school, obviously lacking the same diversity as his public school, to his relationship with his "cool" uncle Aaron (Mahershala Ali), who offers an alternative black masculinity than his police officer father, Jeff (Brian Tyree Henry), Miles' struggles are ones many children of color can identify with. The humor that comes from these situations isn't just situational; it's racial, and many of the reasons why we can laugh at certain moments is because we recognize these moments from our own lives. But as much humor as there is in Into the Spider-Verse, there's a very serious consideration given to Miles decision of what kind of man he wants to be - made even more difficult by the fact that the world sees him as black first and foremost.

The fact that Miles looks more black than Latino opens up interesting narrative possibilities and conversations. While media so often codes him as the black Spider-Man, undoubtedly the factor that led to Bendis having Miles directly discuss not wanting that label in the aforementioned issue, his Puerto Rican heritage is just as important. In the most recently launched Miles Morales: Spider-Man comic by Ahmed, the first scribe of color to write Miles' series, Miles is directly confronted by the detainment of immigrant children. He's dealing with challenges pulled straight from the headlines, and as he learns about the detainment from his mother, it's clear that he feels some responsibility to his Latino heritage to do something. Miles may have most of the same powers as Peter Parker, but his responsibilities have the potential to be different and perceived on a more personal level because he is Afro-Latino.

Into the Spider-Verse, because it's Miles' origin story, doesn't have Miles dealing with race crimes as Spider-Man, but the two sides of the character's racial identity are still represented as inherent parts of who he is. Language is key to this, not just in terms of Miles' bilingual identity, but the cinematic language of the film. The film's animation shows the beauty of urban neighborhoods, from graffiti to hairstyles and clothing, this Brooklyn as seen through Afro-Latino eyes. Peter Parker can wear a hoodie with his costume, as he, or rather his clone Ben Reilly did as Scarlet Spider in comics. But when we see Miles wearing a hoodie when he first becomes Spider-Man it means something entirely different. It's not just fashionable, it's a statement. It's an affirmation that wearing a hoodie doesn't make black and brown kids the menaces or thugs that the news media so often portrays them as, but individuals just as capable of heroism and growth as anyone.

Music is also a key factor in this cinematic language, both in terms of what we hear - the Notorious B.I.G., Post Malone Swae Lee, Blackway - and what we see. A poster of Chance the Rapper is featured prominently in Miles' dorm room. Not only does this reflect Miles' musical tastes, but it tells of a larger story. In Chance the Rapper's track "Everybody's Something," he raps about how he would claim to be biracial ("dark light or off-white") and fight kids who said he talked white. Chance isn't biracial but his identity struggle, the desire to be proud of one's blackness but also not wanting to be defined by its stereotypes, is very much inherent to Miles' struggle. Even if it's not a central part of the plot, there are Easter eggs and musical choices in the film that perfectly allude to the identity struggles of kids of color, struggles that make this version of Spider-Man all the more important.

Through Miles Morales, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, offers something that no other cinematic universe or superhero franchise has offered. There aren't a lot of biracial characters in comics, less that aren't coded as white, and none with names as big as Spider-Man. So the fact that Miles' biracial identity is given such prominence and consideration here is major. Miles Morales is better presented in this film than he ever has been before. That's not a slight against Bendis, who consulted on the film, or any of the other writers who have told Miles' story. Rather it's an awareness that a diverse team of filmmakers, writers and animators brought out aspects of Miles that are immediately recognizable for kids of color. Into the Spider-Verse doesn't change Miles Morales, it elevates him. As much as the film is a love letter to Spider-Man, Stan Lee and Steve Ditko, it's also a love letter to black and brown fans looking for their place whether that be at school, the workplace or within their personal relationships.

Miles Morales' journey to becoming Spider-Man isn't a straight line. It's the strands of being black, Latino, a son, a nephew, an honors student, a graffiti artist, a hip-hop fan, all woven together to create the web that is the wide demographic of Spider-Man - a union of many of the best parts of humanity. There's a shot in the movie of Miles Morales starring up at a glass display case containing Spider-Man's uniform. It's a brief moment without dialogue, but it resonates as one of the film's most powerful moments because it represents Miles so well, and the tremendous legacy of carrying more than one identity. For all the kids of color who dream of being superheroes, and all the adults of color still grappling with power and responsibility, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse leaves us with a clear message: We could always be Spider-Man with the mask on, but now, and perhaps more important, we can be Spider-Man with the mask off as well.

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'Into the Spider-Verse' and the Importance of a Biracial Spider-Man

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"Anyone can wear the mask," Miles Morales says in Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse . But there was a time when that didn't always seem entirely true. For decades, Spider-Man has been Peter Parker. Sure, there have been alternate versions, daughters from the future, and those born of Marvel's questions of "what if," but at the end of the day, we knew that Peter Parker was Spider-Man.

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Black Excellence Is Still At An All Time High!

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What does it mean to be an anti-racist educator? 

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What does it mean to be an anti-racist educator? 

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"If I love you, I have to make you conscious of the things you do not see." -James Baldwin

Anti-racist work in all schools is essential. It is the exercise of hope, the practice of undoing and dismantling systems of oppression, the practice of freedom and of truth-telling. Anti-racist work is the practice of healing and of restoring; it is a practice of love.

We live in a time where it is increasingly clear that Black lives are deeply undervalued and violently treated. And as the words anti-racist and equity become dangerously trendy, educators should pause and grapple with what they truly mean.

It is important that we have a shared understanding of what anti-racism in schools looks like, that we have an understanding of what it is not, and that we embrace the understanding that anti-racist work is never completely finished, nor does it always look the same. I hope, however, we may begin to think about anti-racist work in schools in ways that are holistic and practical.

Anti-racist educators believe in love.

Many educators operate from the premise that they love their students. In fact, many harmful and violent teachers operate from a place of "love." But anti-racist educators understand that love and silence are deeply contradictory. The love that underpins our practice is not the form of love often associated with passivity and inaction. For anti-racist educators, love is action. Love is sharp. Love is truth-telling. Love is fighting for what it is right. Love is doing what is right.

Anti-racist educators, particularly those who teach Black students, understand that part of the act of love is understanding what this country has intentionally done-and continues to do-to Black bodies. It is love that compels our practices.

Anti-racist educators understand that, in love, they must never be silent. Ever. Anti-racist educators understand that their positions as teachers, leaders, policymakers and social workers are positions of great privilege and power, and that they have the ability to leave this world better than they found it.

Anti-racist educators study and are committed to deepening their critical consciousness.

Anti-racist educators understand that they must be lifelong learners. They believe in the power of developing a critical consciousness, which comes from reading, from studying, from deep scholarship, from humility, from listening to and engaging with others, and from constantly examining and re-examining their own ideas, beliefs and truths.

Educators who are seeking to be anti-racist must understand the nuanced, complex, deliberate design of racism in the United States and across the diaspora. Educators in the United States who are seeking to be anti-racist have to acknowledge and recognize that this country was built upon racist principles. They must be willing to commit to a lifestyle of studying what racism looks like in all its forms.

This means that we have to know how to identify racism; how racism is carried out and built in systems and structures; how people hold, sustain, maintain and perpetuate racism; and how people of color can internalize racism.

Anti-racist educators know and continue to seek out the names of those who are never called upon and the work that is hardly ever revered. They recognize that we should study more deeply the tactics of the Black Panther Party and the Freedom Schools. Dr. Gholdy Muhammad is a true leader and scholar-warrior in this regard, as her work focuses on the ways the Black Literary Societies of the early 1800s operated and creates a framework for how we should be using the power of literacy to teach and empower Black students.

Anti-racist educators believe in the intellectual power of teaching. They believe they have to honor the practice and take teaching very, very seriously because they know and understand how schools have been used either to oppress or to liberate.

Anti-racist educators move away from checklists and embrace a holistic approach.

Anti-racist education and anti-racist schooling cannot be packaged or prescribed, arranged into a checklist, rubric or formula. Anti-racist educators understand that anti-racist work begins with the self. They begin by grappling with their beliefs, mindsets, philosophies and biases about the world, education and their students. They work to become conscious of the intentional, multiple ways schools mirror society and how all aspects of school systems are designed to uphold the oppressive aims of the society in which they operate.

Anti-racist educators recognize that schools are doing exactly what they were built to do in this country: Exclude. Silence. Erase. Promote white supremacy. They recognize, therefore, that upending racism in schools will end schooling practices as we have come to know them.

To think about all of the parts of schooling, not just the classroom, anti-racist educators take a holistic approach and consider many dimensions of schooling through an anti-racist, anti-oppressive lens. These dimensions include:

The demographics of staff, particularly in schools with predominantly BIPOC students

School leadership and paths to school leadership

School governance (e.g., network and district leadership)

School curriculum

Special education

Teaching and learning practices

Definitions and measurements of academic success

Definitions and measurements of teacher success

Professional development

New-teacher training and support

The wellness of teachers, staff and students

School mission and vision statements

School, network and district policies

School culture and approaches to discipline

School infrastructure

Allocation of resources and budget

It is important we recognize this list is not exhaustive. In order to be anti- racist educators, we must be steadfast and consistent and consider all aspects of schooling.

We have to commit to continuously evolving, pushing back, studying, engaging in critical discourse with others, examining what is happening in our minds and bodies, and listening to students. Anti-racist educators understand that an anti-racist approach to schooling could very well mean an ending to schools as we know them. They understand this is how we begin to get free.

Anti-racism is healing and love in action.

The work of anti-racism in schools is incomplete without an understanding of the integral role that healing must play in the practices of freedom. Healers are people who remove harm and reduce the impact of violence, people who restore and repair.

The greatest of healers consider the whole person and seek to get to the heart of the matter. Anti-racist educators understand that all forms of oppression are connected, that it is not possible to care about racism and disregard the violence in sexism, classism, homophobia and more. The hearts of anti-racist advocates push us to be concerned for all violations of human rights.

The ways that we as educators must care for ourselves and create educational spaces that center healing our students' bodies is crucial. We must create educational spaces that tend to the harm and violence that has been enacted against BIPOC bodies and minds-specifically those of our children. Anti-racist educators recognize that this is the work of undoing, of dismantling, of liberating, of healing and of truth-telling. This is our collective work.

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What Anti-racism Really Means for Educators

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As anti-racism becomes a popular goal for schools across the nation, this TT advisory board member considers what it really means to be an anti-racist educator.

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How did racism shape our interstate highways? 

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How did racism shape our interstate highways? 

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In his $2 trillion plan to improve America's infrastructure, President Biden is promising to address the racism ingrained in historical transportation and urban planning.

Biden's plan includes $20 billion for a program that would "reconnect neighborhoods cut off by historic investments," according to the White House. It also looks to target "40 percent of the benefits of climate and clean infrastructure investments to disadvantaged communities."

Planners of the interstate highway system, which began to take shape after the Federal Aid Highway Act of 1956, routed some highways directly, and sometimes purposefully, through Black and brown communities. In some instances, the government took homes by eminent domain.

It left a deep psychological scar on neighborhoods who lost homes, churches and schools, says Deborah Archer, a professor at the New York University School of Law and national board president of the American Civil Liberties Union. Archer recently wrote for the Iowa Law Review about how transportation policy affected the development of Black communities.

She says the president will face major challenges in trying to rectify historical inequities.

"What is not clear is whether and how that money will be distributed in a way that will address the racial inequalities that are built into our transportation system and our infrastructure," she tells NPR's Morning Edition.

" I think it's also important for us to think about how we will shift culture within the relevant agencies so that white middle-class and affluent neighborhoods will not continue to be favored at the expense of communities of color, producing lopsided and skewed patterns of infrastructure development."

Here are highlights from Archer's interview with NPR:
Why would officials have targeted thriving vibrant communities? Was it just because the people who lived there were Black and or brown?
Some of the time, yes, that was actually the case. The highways were being built just as courts around the country were striking down traditional tools of racial segregation. So for example, courts were striking down the use of racial zoning to keep Black people in certain communities and white people in other communities. And so the highway development popped up at a time when the idea, the possibility of integration in housing was on the horizon. And so very intentionally, highways were sometimes built right on the formal boundary lines that we saw used during racial zoning. Sometimes community members asked the highway builders to create a barrier between their community and encroaching Black communities.
As I read your paper, I was astonished to realize how many places this happened. Was there any successful resistance? If this initiative works, in what ways do you see the country being different in five or 10 years?
There was certainly successful resistance. We can see good examples in Greenwich Village in New York. There were examples from Washington, D.C., which is where the phrase, "no white men's roads through Black men's homes" came from. That was the rallying cry for folks in D.C. who resisted it. And there was also a successful effort in New Orleans.

But I think it's important to point out the most successful efforts to stop the highways were not those that focused on racial justice or those that were put in place to protect Black communities. The people who were most successful were the ones that focused on environmental justice and protecting parks and their communities in that way.

I think that right now, we can see that race frequently explains which communities receive the benefits of our transportation system and infrastructure, and which communities were forced to host the burdens.
Marc Rivers and Simone Popperl produced and edited the audio interview. Farah Eltohamy produced for the Web.
Our transportation systems have really led to racial disparities and discrimination which are reinforced daily from highways, roads, bridges to sidewalks and public transit. We make it harder for Black people and other people of color to access and take advantage of opportunities.

So I would hope that at the end of this project - at the end of this plan - as you say in five years, that race would not be a way to explain who gets the benefits and who gets the burdens. It would not be a way to explain who has access and who doesn't.

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A Brief History Of How Racism Shaped Interstate Highways

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In his $2 trillion plan to improve America's infrastructure, President Biden is promising to address the racism ingrained in historical transportation and urban planning. Biden's plan includes $20 billion for a program that would "reconnect neighborhoods cut off by historic investments," according to the White House.

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Content warning: Anti-Asian racism and violence, anti-Black racism and violence, xenophobia, specific examples of violence against Asian Americans, historical context of racism and anti-Asian sentiment in the United States, COVID-19, wartime brutality By JoAnn Yao
Eight people have been shot, and I cannot reach my family.

I am refreshing Twitter, watching for any new information. I text. I call. No answer. I hear nothing from my parents or my youngest sister, who still live in Georgia.

There are five confirmed deaths. Most are presumed to be Asian people.

There are five people in my immediate family: Mom, Dad, my sisters, and me. I think of how visible we have always been, one of the few Asian families in my hometown.

I have no other means of reaching them. My middle sister is across the country. I am in New York. Unvaccinated, unable to travel during a pandemic, uncertain of anything, I wait.

Finally, I think to contact my youngest sister via iMessage, remembering that she's often on her computer but away from her phone.

She tells me instantly-she's safe. My parents are safe. This isn't their week to go grocery-shopping in Atlanta.

It's only then that I allow myself to start crying.

"I apologize for the late reply" -

"Things have been very busy" -

"I somehow missed this" -

"I'm so sorry" -

My inbox, filled to the brim with unanswered emails, waits for me as I fail to compose myself.

It has been like this every week for over a year.

The coverage of his crime has focused overwhelmingly on his humanity. I will not devote any more words to him.

Instead, I am thinking of:

Xiaojie Tan, who should have celebrated her birthday this past week . I am thinking of the many countries she'd jotted down on her retirement wishlist of places to visit, of her excitedly researching, asking people for recommendations, assembling sample itineraries. I think of the clothes in her drawers, unworn, tags still attached. Her daily routine of calling her sister and mother in Nanning, China on her way to work. The wedding that her daughter Jami will now plan without the mother with whom she was so close. In another time, if we'd known each other, I might have gently ribbed Jami for being a Georgia Bulldog since I'm a Georgia Tech Yellow Jacket .

Hyun Jung Grant, who loved karaoke, clubbing, and her two sons . I think of her putting on disco music to do chores around the house, moonwalking while vacuuming . Of her spending what were most likely precious days off taking her boys to the mall and the aquarium. Making her own kimchi jjigae. Encouraging her sons to go out and partake of life more, listening to their dreams and girl troubles alike.

Daoyou Feng, who had only just begun working at Young's Asian Massage. I think of how little I can find about her life, of the blank space I wish did not exist, but which suggests a life of isolation, of being far from loved ones, of perhaps not even having anyone to bury and mourn her. A regular customer described her as " kind and quiet, " and I think of how a language barrier can make someone withdraw. How my own fiery grandmother would become the proverbial church mouse when she had to use her limited English where we lived. I think of how living so far from any community where you see yourself reflected in your surroundings can drastically reshape a person.

Paul Andre Michels, who was a contractor, veteran, and family man. Who had also been "proud" to support a president who referred to COVID-19 as and the "China virus" . His love for his family existed alongside his support for a man who boldly punches down at anyone who isn't like him. I think about how white supremacy still did not spare him.

Elcias Hernandez-Ortiz, who is the lone survivor of the attacks. I think of his young daughter and wife in the United States. His parents in Guatemala. I think about the sheer force of his optimism when his wife recalls how he told her "that nothing and no one could make him fall apart or take him down."

Less than two percent of the people in Cherokee County, where half of the shooting victims died, are Asian. Less than five percent of Atlanta's population, where the other half of the victims died, is Asian.

Asian American reporters fluent in Korean and familiar with the city ask to cover the story. I also think of the superiors who refuse them because they may be "too biased."

All of these people are part of the narrative.

Growing up Asian in a small Southern town where there are very few Asians is like this:

You walk into a room, a store, a restaurant, and the energy of the people within it shifts around you.

You are always visible while rarely seeing anyone who looks like you.

You compensate by making yourself as small as possible, by shrinking down, by accommodating, by learning how to see and hold everyone else's moods and feelings.

Your food, your English, your eyes, your looks, your clothes are still mocked.

You are still tripped by schoolmates at the top of long stairwells. You are still called names that range from silly to violently racist. You still hear people making noises that you realize are supposed to be your mother tongue. You are assaulted and no one helps.

When you find the words to speak about your pain, that is also mocked.

You try to talk about it with your friends, who tell you that they don't see your race.

You grade your hurt on a scale, despite the fact that even the supposedly small things are corrosive, like acid thrown on you one drop at a time. One drop is surmountable. You can cover the damage, pretend it didn't happen. You can withstand it, even if it keeps happening.

You allow yourself to be dissolved, one drop at a time, as long as enough of you remains to survive.

So once the acid begins to pour, instead of calling for help or crying out, you think, "This is familiar. Just more of the same."

You do not allow yourself to consider that you might not survive.

It's June 2020. People are marching in the streets for George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, Elijah McClain, and all of the Black people murdered before them. White supremacy has been killing people since the inception of our country, but we are battling it, as others before us have done.

I'm holding anti-racism sessions with my own family, giving them homework, talking with them.

I remember my parents' surprise on visiting the Little White House and reading that FDR ordered the internment of Japanese Americans. It isn't that they were surprised he was the person who ordered it; they were surprised because they had no idea it had even happened. And I remember feeling shocked before I also recalled that I grew up learning US. history, while they did not.

So I try to discuss redlining, the school-to-prison pipeline, medical malpractice, voter suppression, inherent biases built into an entire system against Black Americans - all of which still exists. Jim Crow no longer bears that name, but it is still firmly in place.

I tell my family it's especially important to know since we have lived in Georgia for almost three decades.

"Anti-racism" is a noun but urgency requires us to treat it as a verb, I say. It means taking your awareness and turning it into action. Into doing something concrete. And then to keep doing it.

And yet we do not discuss the spate of anti-Asian hate crimes that have been steadily escalating throughout the year. My family and I say nothing aside from "stay indoors; be safe." I mention the violence in an essay for Asian American Heritage Month , but I do not linger, choosing instead to focus on the myriad ways in which Black, Indigenous, and other people of color are suffering more.

My community is fearful and in pain, but their fresh experiences are all things I have weathered before. Slurs yelled in public, harassment and assault for being Asian. There are so many other things to turn my attention to, that feel more urgent. A presidential election. A deadly virus. The rise of a new civil rights movement.
We do not talk about these things. We survive.
I am, in this way, unwittingly trying to write myself out of the narrative.

The first time I step outside of my apartment after the beginning of the pandemic, I am constantly moving, all nervous energy. I fidget in line at the bank. I cross streets for no reason. My heart races and I have trouble breathing. I tell myself that it's because I've been indoors for too long, that I'm out of shape, that I'm unused to exerting myself while wearing a mask.

I tell myself not to think of the Asian woman in Brooklyn, whom an unknown man attacked while she took out the trash . The way I obsessively trawled news sites and forums after, until I saw someone on Reddit say, If you watch the footage, it had to have been a neighbor. He knew her routine and exactly when she was going to be outside.

There is a snarl of fear growing within me, tangling with the other parts of myself that I have not examined in years. An awareness accompanied by a desire just as strong to pretend that it does not exist. New York City was my first true home. Where is home if New York no longer feels like it? If instead what I recognize are all of the things I thought I'd left far behind, in Georgia?

When I call my family, we discuss the weather, the election, the number of COVID cases rising or falling. I do not mention the news stories I have seen circulating amongst the Asian American community online that week.

There's time to address this later, I think. No one is dying.

But of course, white supremacy has been murdering Asians for a long time.

History is not the past. It is the stories we tell about the past , wrote Grace Lee Boggs.

We have been killed in our ancestral lands in various wars , overseas on missions too dangerous for white soldiers , on U.S. soil in internment camps . By drone, by chemicals, by bullet, by baseball bat .

In order to heal and become who we aspire to be in the United States, we must begin by purging the poison of the lie that this is not who we are.

I understand why some people resent it. Or refuse to use it. I understand when other Asians balk at its broadness, how easily it collapses us together into a group with the largest gaps in socio-economic standing and cultural cachet, like holding together magnets with opposing poles. How it can feel like a false connection between disparate peoples.

But we are connected, regardless. White supremacy does not discern between us. And we owe it to ourselves to believe we can resist that flattening of our identities by standing together.

Visibility has more value when we are fully visible. Asian Americans are in every class from working to upper; we are every kind of migrant and generations removed from migration; we are mixed-race, LGBTQ+, disabled, Jewish, Muslim- every possible way there is to be a person, it is possible to be Asian American.

"Asian American" is not the name white supremacy gave us. It is the one we gave ourselves. It is the name we can choose in order to begin building, both for ourselves and with other communities.

I use it specifically to connect to this history and as a starting point for identity. Sometimes I use it to keep myself from feeling as though my own roots are too shallow.

I need to believe that someone cannot simply undo my entire existence on a whim.

As a social media manager, I see the thoughts and feelings of people across platforms. As a woman, I often feel obligated to hold those thoughts and feelings on others' behalf. As someone who cares deeply about equity and social justice, I feel the need to act, to improve the circumstances that cause the pain and injustice I see documented online.

As an Asian American, I often do not hold any space for myself at all.

I have seen posts featuring Asian writers or artists on our channels getting less traffic, less engagement, less attention than many of our other posts. Sometimes the difference is stark. I have seen people question whether Asians even experience discrimination in the US, and why we are attempting to participate in discussions about racism.

, I tell myself. I can keep helping and building anyway. I can hold this.

A few years ago, someone asked for my full name over the phone and I gave it. When they read it back and mispronounced my surname, I corrected them and apologized, assuring them that it's difficult to say.

"No, it's not," they replied.

I was stunned.

"No. It's not." I felt myself parroting back the words.

"Yao" is only one syllable, three letters. I share a name with a famous basketball player. It's not hard to pronounce at all.

I have been apologizing for it for such a long time that I stopped noticing I was doing it.

"Representation is not a substitute for or even a sign of progress," multiple think pieces and social media posts by other Asian Americans have declared to me this week.

Multiple Asian artists made history with their Academy Award nominations on Monday.

Six Asian women were still slaughtered on Tuesday.

My fellow Asians and Asian Americans are correct in calling out the faults in thinking that representation alone is a bellwether of change, or a sign that we are dismantling white supremacy.

The work is lifting people out of poverty, building coalitions, excavating buried histories, investing in communities - the list goes on. It is multiple lifetimes' worth of work, the undoing of multiple lifetimes of systemic violence and oppression. Increasing police surveillance or relying on police brutality that hurts the Black and brown people with whom we need to stand in solidarity is not the solution, and we need to declare this loudly and often .

"He had a bad day," a white police officer said of the Atlanta killer. It was not racially motivated, the murderer himself claims. National news outlets picked up this line without challenging it.

They are already trying to erase us from the narrative.

And there is a narrative, in which representation is a crucial piece. I urge my fellow Asians in the diaspora not to dismiss it entirely. We are only just beginning to capture the full breadth and depth of what it means to be us.

What it means, for instance, when safety from harm as a woman relies on fending off the widely-accepted aggressiveness of men. How the addition of white supremacy forces Asian women to fight the pervasive notion that our bodies specifically are readily available. How the myth of the model minority relies on all of us being affluent and upwardly mobile. How the presence of low-wage laborers among us makes us a less effective cudgel to use against other people of color.

What it means when all of these things collide, but the systems in place rely on smoothing the turmoil into something benign. Especially when to do otherwise would be to acknowledge the cause of the wreck is anything but benign .

Representation should not begin and end with visual recognition; it should be specific, honest, and resonant. It should speak to those similar and dissimilar to us alike. It should mirror the universe itself, perpetually expanding, upending previously held truths, impossible to know fully but infinitely worth knowing.

Because it is the key to unlocking the difference between being seen and being understood. Because the work of dismantling cruel, unequal systems depends on it.

It is the feeling I have when I close a book, wish fervently I could send it to my teenage self, and cry thankful tears when I think of the teenagers who have it now. It's my joy seeing Jessie Mei Li, Amita Suman, and Sujaya Dasgupta embody very different, vibrant characters in trailers and pictures for . It's my pride for Oscar nominees Steven Yeun, Riz Ahmed, Lee Isaac Chung, and Chloé Zhao. It's my excitement when I see the cover for Marie Lu's Steelstriker . It's the marrow-deep ache I felt watching Phillippa Soo sing in Hamilton, "Will they tell my story?"

It's what I feel when I see every community of color and other marginalized peoples rallying to support us, to express their solidarity with us in this specific moment. It's what I feel when I see white, straight, cis people standing with us as well.

When we say, "we need diverse books," we do not mean that books by marginalized people are only for marginalized people. We are pointing out the dearth of, alongside the need for, diverse books.

And everyone needs diverse stories. Imagining someone else's internal life vividly enough to feel it within yourself is how we reshape culture and unlearn false ideas. How we defuse fear and begin asking questions instead of making assumptions. How we expand our circles beyond the people in our immediate vicinity. How we face evil and refuse to allow it to win.

We cannot build a better world if we cannot imagine ourselves together in it.

Stories of marginalized people are not here for tidy consumption. They are not here to be simply swallowed and passed through for nutritional value by people who have not lived our lives. They are how we acknowledge that our past, no matter how recent or distant, is not merely history but a living, vital part of our present. We carry it with us. These stories are an attempt to capture the texture and richness of our experiences, and to shape the future we hope to see. They are a reminder to keep fighting for progress.

For Asian Americans, there's frequent talk of in-betweenness, of not being enough. It's true; we are not fully Asian or American. But representation means telling us that we are wholly ourselves. We are something new. We are still mapping who we are, but that doesn't mean it's unnecessary for the cartography to exist.

Do the work, but recognize the work includes refilling the well of your own humanity, of putting yourself back into the narrative.

Hope is not a lottery ticket you can sit on the sofa and clutch, feeling lucky, writes Rebecca Solnit. It is an axe you break down doors with in an emergency. Hope should shove you out the door, because it will take everything you have to steer the future away from endless war, from the annihilation of the earth's treasures and the grinding down of the poor and marginal... To hope is to give yourself to the future-and that commitment to the future is what makes the present inhabitable.

Rage and fear and hurt are currently driving us, but it's the hope and love and community that will sustain us.

I am Asian American. I am no longer asking for permission to exist.

I am hurting, but I am not defeated or alone.

I am Asian American, and of it, I refuse to be anything but deeply, unapologetically proud.

* * *

Atlanta-based AAPI Organizations/Chapters:

Asian Americans Advancing Justice - Atlanta - "the first and only nonprofit legal advocacy organization dedicated to protecting the civil rights of Asian Americans, Native Hawaiians, and Pacific Islanders (AANHPI) in Georgia and the Southeast."

Center for Pan Asian Community Services - "Established as the first and largest Asian and Pacific Islander health and human service agency in the Southeast region, CPACS has been providing its core groups of services to immigrant and refugee families in Georgia since 1980."

Fundraisers:

Resources:

Stop AAPI Hate - nonprofit that tracks incidents of hate and discrimination against Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders in the U.S.

Anti-Asian Violence Resources - includes statistics, bystander trainings, mental health resources, and more

Asian Americans, A PBS Documentary - "a five-hour film series that delivers a bold, fresh perspective on a history that matters today, more than ever... Told through intimate personal stories, the series will cast a new lens on U.S. history and the ongoing role that Asian Americans have played."

Asian Author Alliance's Kidlit Directory - "A Directory of Asian Kidlit Authors as a way to help others discover and amplify Asian voices and stories!"

KiBooka - site by author Linda Sue Park that showcases kids' books (picture, Middle Grade, and Young Adult) and their Korean American + Korean Diaspora authors

The Asian American Curriculum Project - "Our mission is to educate the public about the great diversity of the Asian American experience through book distribution, cultural awareness, and educating Asian Americans about their own heritage, thus instilling a sense of pride."

Asian-Owned Bookstores:

Georgia

Florida

California

Arkipelago Books (San Francisco, CA)

The Asian American Curriculum Project (San Mateo, CA) - proceeds from sales also support their nonprofit, which works to "bring a wide variety of Asian American curriculum materials to schools, libraries, and the general public."

Bel Canto Books (Long Beach, CA)

Eastwind Books (Berkeley, CA)

Giant Robot Store (Los Angeles, CA)

A Good Used Book (Los Angeles, CA)

The Lev (Los Angeles, CA)

Philippine Expressions Bookstore (San Pedro, CA)

Various Locations

******

JoAnn Yao is the Social Media Manager for We Need Diverse Books. Among other things, she has conducted research for the American Film Institute, provided book and script coverage for a Hollywood agency, designed an online narrative game, and written a comic for a New Frontiers anthology. She lives in New York City with her dragon's hoard of books. Follow her on Twitter or Instagram.

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Content warning: Anti-Asian racism and violence, anti-Black racism and violence, xenophobia, specific examples of violence against Asian Americans, historical context of racism and anti-Asian sentiment in the United States, COVID-19, wartime brutality By JoAnn Yao Eight people have been shot, and I cannot reach my family.

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In school, how are we protecting students' genius? 

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In school, how are we protecting students' genius? 

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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.

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During times of crisis, how do you pause and acknowledge the pain? 

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During times of crisis, how do you pause and acknowledge the pain? 

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Responding to Anti-Asian Violence and Georgia Shootings

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After a shooting spree in Georgia took the lives of eight people—including six Asian American women—it’s important to pause, check in and prioritize care.

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https://www.hbo.com/specials/between-the-world-and-me

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Watch Between the World and Me, the original HBO special online at HBO.com or stream on your own device.

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Music is an emotional time capsule. I am one hundred percent certain that everyone can think of at least one song that zaps them back to a specific memory, feeling, place, and time. (For me it's dancing the Macarena with my friends at a birthday party when I was 8; much simpler times.) Because of this, music is more than mere entertainment. Music is communication. As with all forms of art, the artist creates with the goal of conveying meaning.

Throughout my years of teaching elementary music to Kindergarten through 6th grade, I've come to understand music as more than a performance subject. Music has become the channel through which I introduce my students to concepts surrounding social justice: cultural appreciation vs. appropriation, anti-racism, the beauty of diversity, and connection to name a few. In my current position as a 2nd grade classroom teacher, music has become a key tool to help my students engage and build empathy.

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Music as a Tool to Build Empathy in an Anti-Racist Classroom - Embracing Equity

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By Czarina Jimenez 5-minute read Throughout my years of teaching elementary music to Kindergarten through 6th grade, I've come to understand music as more than a performance subject. Music has become the channel through which I introduce my students to concepts surrounding social justice: cultur

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How can we support our teachers, students, and ourselves to listen with intention? 

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How can we support our teachers, students, and ourselves to listen with intention? 

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What do you do when you attend a protest with people shouting, "Defund the police," your voice and car horn raised with them, and one of your students' parents is one of the cops handling the blockade?

On June 13, 2020, I drove my car to John Paul Jones Arena in Charlottesville, Virginia, to join in a noise demo. Drizzle tried to dampen the mood. But people with pots and pans, tambourines, megaphones and some with just their hands and voices marched on, followed by a line of cars. They quickly whipped their energy into a righteous block party. As I broke off from the protest to make my way home, an officer waved my car ahead. It was the parent of a few of my students.

On my drive home, I saw two people in my mind when I thought about the officer: the cop and the dad. A member of the system that too often shoots first and asks questions later for men who look like me, but also the giant who hoists his daughter on shoulders so high she laughs with the clouds. That smile was still somewhere underneath the rain and frown, right? In the grand scheme of things, that didn't matter. What mattered is that, just like in that intersection, so many perspectives would be coming together in school, and I would have to lead them.

I must be brave. I must speak, and neutrality feels like betrayal. Some things are not up for debate in my classroom. Black lives do matter, and we won't be debating whether that's true. Yet, I've seen this situation play out as a debate all year.

Too often, our shared discussions in society and in school include a right and wrong side, a red and blue side, no gray area for nuance. That's no classroom. Building a strong foundation of the basics, listening to one another and communicating with grace will allow our community to sustain the tough conversations when they come up for us, whether remotely or in person.

This work for classroom culture is critical and it's never too late to begin. Here are a few ways I work to ensure that students have an opportunity to really engage with one another in my classes.

Sharing as the Norm

One of my greatest fears, when I'm sharing with those close to me, is that what I say and how I feel fall into a vacuum of like-minded people. I always ask myself, "Have I shared these thoughts and feelings with others who don't look or think like me?" Truthfully, the answer more often than not is no. How can I ask my students to do something I am reluctant to do with my own peers? I have to push myself to be the example.

In Culturally Responsive Teaching and the Brain, Zaretta Hammond talks about "selective vulnerability" and educators using their challenges and triumphs to encourage kids as they grow. That idea can also bleed into putting yourself, as a person, on display for your students. Set the standard for them and share. Don't expect them to share about themselves with you if you don't do the same. Coax their stories out of them by telling your own.

This begins the process of building a community of active listeners who feel safe displaying their full identities but also who receive the identities and cultural experiences of others. Receiving does not mean agreeing-it is a willingness to accept what is being shared as true and valid.

We can give students the opportunity to validate their classmates; it can be as simple as encouraging a Zoom reaction or giving students the chance to paraphrase or repeat what they heard their classmates share out. I find that asking students to repeat their peers, instead of me doing it, helps the conversation stay student-centered and holds the group accountable to the person sharing.

Listening With Intention

There are many ways we check in with kids to make sure they've grasped what has been taught. Have you ever checked in on how well students are listening to and getting to know each other? One instructional coach showed me the missing ingredient to an activity I had done in the past: to have students list the classmates they remembered and then prompt them to write what they remembered about those classmates. Take inventory of those responses! Are students hearing each other, remembering what the people around them have been sharing? Students can make it a goal to get to know the classmates who didn't come to mind immediately and set an intention to listen out for details about that peer.

Listening for details is key, and it's why I went to that noise demo in June, partly because I felt like I wasn't being heard. The people who I needed to hear me were so far away and inaccessible; I worried my message would never reach them. Those forces were right there as we chanted. They had no choice but to stop and listen.

When discussing difficult topics in the classroom, selective hearing can be a common occurrence. I've received many emails over the years after an impromptu conversation or a restorative circle because half of the message made it home through my students. Children need to be taught how to stop and listen, to truly engage with what they are hearing.

Kids can and will sit with their feelings and internalize them if they are taught how. Educators can help by encouraging students to recognize the importance of the information their classmates share. For example, I might tell students, "Your peer is sharing more than their love of French fries. They also said, 'People don't like me because they think my face is mean.' Another classmate values basketball and family, but he also shared with us that someone he loves is in jail and carries their photo around with them. Do you hear them? When they speak, do you remember all they are approaching the conversation with?"

Modeling Respectful Curiosity

It's hard sometimes to ask follow-up questions when opportunities arise. We get stuck, and we assume what someone else may think. But that's because we don't truly know all that someone brings to the conversation. We can teach kids how to move past those moments when they may feel nervous about asking a clarifying question.

The way to meaningfully interact with others while honoring cultural differences and varied experiences needs to be modeled and explicitly taught. Educators can give students specific sentence frames to ask follow-up and clarifying questions: "Could you pronounce your name/holiday/tradition again for us?" or "What was it like growing up in _______?" We can also teach them to ask a probing question without demanding information from others: "You're from ______? I don't know much about that. Could you tell me more?"

Students should also have nonverbal tools at their disposal to help them meaningfully interact without snatching the story away from the presenter. Common hand signals to show a connection, the ability to jot down a question while they are listening, even the use of the chat section in Zoom to respond are perfect. These are the skills we as teachers use all the time. We should give kids the scaffolds they need to be as inquisitive as we are!

For me, it was tough not to hide my face as I passed by that police officer, my students' parent, on my way home from the noise demo. I needed to stand by my experience. Families and their students will have the same resolve. The children of activists, police officers, pacifists and every facet of the issues society faces outside are coming into my classroom, logging onto my Zoom.

Communities are full of differences, and those differences can clash in ways that will break us if we let them. We have to prepare our students-and ourselves-to communicate, question and work our way through.

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To Sustain the Tough Conversations, Active Listening Must Be the Norm

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What do you do when you attend a protest with people shouting, "Defund the police," your voice and car horn raised with them, and one of your students' parents is one of the cops handling the blockade? On June 13, 2020, I drove my car to John Paul Jones Arena in Charlottesville, Virginia, to join in a noise demo.

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How Redlining Shaped Black America As We Know It  | Unpack That

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For more than two years, homeowners in one West Hartford neighborhood rallied fervently against a proposal for multifamily housing they say would change their community.

The fight began in 2018, when 181 residents signed a petition opposing the development, which had been proposed for the corner of New Britain Avenue and Berkshire Road. It continued last fall, with residents again seeking to block a zoning change that would enable the housing to move forward.

Residents, echoing others across Connecticut and across the nation, said multifamily housing would destroy their residential neighborhood, which sits in a census tract that is more than 90% white and largely middle class. They worried the new development would not, as one homeowner put it in 2018, "fit the complexion of the community."

The residents ultimately did not get their way, with West Hartford's town council approving the development after a five-hour hearing in December. But their effort, like others in other majority-white towns across the state, raise a question that often goes ignored in these debates: How did these communities come to look the way they do in the first place?

To some residents of Connecticut suburbs, the racial and socioeconomic composition of their towns can feel obvious and predestined, as though determined by some immutable force: West Hartford is majority white and middle class, while Bloomfield is majority Black with lower levels of income and wealth.

A glance through history, though, shows that isn't remotely the case.

"We think that it's just happenstance. We think it's totally free will," says Tracey Wilson, West Hartford's official historian and author of a book about the town. "And then we realize it wasn't all free will. There are other factors at work here."

This is the story, recorded by local historians, of two neighboring Hartford suburbs and how they came, throughout the 20th century, to represent the racial segregation persistent in Connecticut and across the the nation.

During West Hartford's formative years during the first half of the 20th century, local, federal and real estate industry officials took steps that would ensure the town remained overwhelmingly - almost entirely - white.

West Hartford's transformation from an agricultural outpost to a modern suburb began in the 1920s, when the popularization of cars allowed some who worked in Hartford to move out from the city. In less than a decade, census records show, the town's population more than doubled.

But as West Hartford's population increased, town leaders quickly stepped in to shape the composition of their community, as chronicled by Trinity College professor Jack Dougherty, author of a book-in-progress about segregation in the Hartford region.

In 1924, West Hartford became the first Connecticut town to enact zoning regulations, dividing residential areas by home size to functionally segregate citizens by socioeconomic class - a process whose effects would ripple for the next century. Robert Whitten, a consultant from Cleveland who guided West Hartford's zoning process, wrote in a zoning plan that the new guidelines would "make it un-economic to build two-family houses."

"The development of crowded tenement house conditions such as exist in many larger communities will be effectively prevented in West Hartford," Whitten wrote.

On the surface, the guidelines were race-neutral, but in practice they were anything but that. Black residents were far less likely to be able to afford single-family homes in the area, meaning they were less likely to be able to move to West Hartford at all. The town, like most other Hartford suburbs, remained essentially all white.

The 1930s brought another form of housing discrimination: redlining. In hundreds of cities across the nation, the Home Owners' Loan Corporation assessed the ostensible "security" of various neighborhoods, offering color-coded recommendations on which areas were safe for banks to lend in. The most "desirable" neighborhoods were shaded green, while less-appealing areas were labeled blue, yellow or, worst of all, red.

Manuals from the Federal Housing Administration instructed appraisers to beware in their assessments of "inharmonious racial or nationality groups."

When HOLC agents visited the Hartford area, they recorded the population of "foreign-born families" and "Negros" in each district they examined. In one 1937 report, available through a University of Richmond database, they described a district encompassing Hartford's Clay Arsenal neighborhood as "the city's oldest residential section which has gradually drifted into slum area now mainly occupied by Negros." That area was color coded red.

When the agents finished canvassing the Hartford area, they rated West Hartford mostly green and blue with no red at all; Hartford mostly blue and yellow with some red; and East Hartford (populated largely by lower-income white people) almost entirely yellow or red. As a result, affordable mortgage loans became readily available in West Hartford, allowing wealth to accumulate among residents there, and scarce in Hartford and East Hartford.

Even as redlining helped cement West Hartford as an upscale, white suburb, some real estate developers chose not to take any chances, layering socioeconomic segregation with outright racist discrimination. Research from Wilson and others has uncovered five restrictive covenants in West Hartford, all written in the early 1940s, covering about 200 parcels of land. There were the High Ledge Homes on South Main Street, the Bel-Crest development on Ridgewood Road, the Hillside Homes development on Park Road, an unnamed development on Asylum Avenue and the Dryad's Grove development just off Trout Brook Drive.

The covenants each issued the same restriction, that "no persons of any race other than the white race shall use or occupy any building or any lot," with the exception of "domestic servants of a different race domiciled with an owner or tenant."

Restrictive covenants were eventually struck down by the U.S. Supreme Court in 1948, but discrimination didn't stop. Wilson tells of wealthy homeowners who sold to friends instead of listing their houses, so as to control who moved in.

During World War II, as the federal government built public housing for war workers and their families, locals in West Hartford fiercely objected to allowing Black workers in a development on Oakwood Avenue, describing themselves to a local newspaper as "alarmed" and "horrified" at the idea of African American neighbors, while citing concern that their home values would drop.

When federal officials insisted West Hartford could not exclude Black residents from the development, local officials relented, with an essential caveat: They would allow only Black workers "who were engaged in essential industry in West Hartford." According to a 1943 article in the Metropolitan News, a weekly newspaper that covered West Hartford at the time, only six workers fit that criteria, none of whom wished to live in the new housing.

The development, therefore, remained exclusively white.

Racial steering in Bloomfield

As West Hartford grewthrough the 1930s and 1940s, Bloomfield remained largely agricultural until the 1950s, when increased demand for suburban housing caused the town's population to increase by 137% - the most during that decade of any Connecticut municipality, according to census records. Through that period, Bloomfield remained about 95% white, with only slightly more Black residents than other Hartford suburbs.

That, however, soon began to change.

As Dougherty describes in a 2012 article in the Journal of Urban History, some real estate agents in the 1960s and 1970s steered Black homebuyers - previously confined to Hartford's North End - toward Bloomfield, while directing white homebuyers to West Hartford and Avon. As many Black and white residents alike sought to leave Hartford, a combination of industry interests and personal prejudice worked to segregate them within the neighboring suburbs.

For Black buyers who had previously been denied the chance to see any suburban homes, Bloomfield became an opportunity to realize their American Dream. For some real estate agents, Dougherty writes, the town represented something else: a chance to turn white racism and Black desperation into profit.

Those real estate agents embraced a practice known as "block-busting," in which an agent would sell a home to a Black resident, then use the arrival of Black neighbors to scare white residents into selling their homes at a bargain rate. The agent, Dougherty explains, would then sell those same homes to Black buyers willing to pay top dollar for a rare chance at homeownership.

In a 1983 interview with The Courant, a white homebuyer named John Keever recalled asking to see homes in Bloomfield, only to face "innuendos about the school system" and horror stories of "attacks on white girls in the Bloomfield schools." After smearing Bloomfield, real estate agents pointed Keever toward West Hartford and Avon.

For Black buyers who had previously been denied the chance to see any suburban homes, Bloomfield became an opportunity to realize their American Dream.

Combined with racist attitudes among many white homeowners, these tactics rapidly altered the face of Bloomfield. The town, which had been 94% white in 1960, shifted to 70% white by 1980, leaving it with the second-highest proportion of nonwhite residents of municipalities in the area, behind only Hartford.

If Bloomfield briefly looked like a model of integration, white flight ensured that appearance was fleeting. Adelle Wright, a white resident of Bloomfield during this time, described watching the town - and particularly its schools - change quickly.

"To show you how fast things happened, in the 1970s my children in public schools were in a majority: 70 percent white, 30 percent minority," Wright told researchers from Trinity College in 2005. "By the late '80s, my last to graduate was in a minority: 30% white, 70% black."

Activists soon noticed what was happening. In 1973, a Hartford-based civil rights group called Education/Instrucción trained volunteers to pose as homebuyers and pretend to seek homes in the Hartford area, while following a common script. Again and again, Black and Latino volunteers were pointed toward homes in Hartford and Bloomfield, while white volunteers were directed toward Avon and West Hartford.

In 1974, Education/Instrucción shared its findings with lawyers at the federal Department of Justice, who ordered an investigation. Federal attorneys soon filed a lawsuit against seven of the eight largest real estate firms in the Hartford area, alleging violations of the Fair Housing Act of 1968.

In an eventual out-of-court settlement, the real-estate agencies committed to educational programs for agents but no financial penalties. They did not admit wrongdoing.

Julia Ramos Grenier, a co-founder of Education/Instrucción, recalled years later her disappointment at the settlement.

"They were supposed to cease and desist," Grenier told Trinity researchers. "Well, you know, it just became a little more quiet and underwater about it, that's all."

Today, many openly discriminatory housing policies of the 20th century have faded. Restrictive covenants are illegal. Redlined maps no longer govern mortgage loans, even if their effects linger. Housing developments are no longer explicitly segregated by race.

And yet as of the most recent census, West Hartford was 79.6% white and 6.3% Black, while Bloomfield was 35.7% white and 57.5% Black. West Hartford's per-capita income, meanwhile, was twice that of Bloomfield.

This disparity is not unique to these two neighboring towns. Across the state, Black and Latino residents are mostly concentrated in cities, while many neighboring suburbs remain more than 90% white.

This has had major implications for life in Connecticut.

Segregated housing means segregated schools, with those in Black and Latino areas chronically under-funded. It means disparities in policing, with stops and arrests concentrated in major cities. It has meant disproportionate impact of the COVID-19 pandemic on Black and Latino neighborhoods, where the disease has torn through tightly packed groups of vulnerable residents.

We've denied [Black people] access to wealth-building opportunities for 100 years, so now they're forced to rent. And the only place that there's [affordable] rental properties that exist are in urban areas.

Fionnuala Darby-Hudgens, community outreach and education coordinator at the Connecticut Fair Housing Center, attributes disparities statewide to "very clear policy decisions [that] continue to be made." At the local level, zoning rules keep white, wealthy neighborhoods white and wealthy, just as West Hartford sought to do in the 1920s. At the state level, light funding for rental relief during the COVID-19 pandemic leads to greater housing insecurity, which worsens inequality.

"In Connecticut, 2,500 families were evicted every month [even before the pandemic], and they were overwhelmingly women of color with young children," Darby-Hudgens said. "We've denied [Black people] access to wealth-building opportunities for 100 years, so now they're forced to rent. And the only place that there's [affordable] rental properties that exist are in urban areas."

Indeed, low-income renters and buyers alike often face limited choices. West Hartford currently has 2,091 units of affordable housing, about 7.9% of the town's total units, compared to 11.1% in Bloomfield and 39.3% in Hartford, according to Housing Data Profiles from The Partnership for Strong Communities. About two-thirds of units in West Hartford are designated as single-family.

Several times in the recent past, West Hartford officials have allowed housing developments to proceed with no affordable units despite pleas from residents and activists.

In other local suburbs, affordable housing is even more scarce. According to the Connecticut Data Collective, only 4.1% of Avon's housing units are affordable, as are just 4.7% of units in Simsbury and 5.7% of units in Glastonbury. Each of those towns remains overwhelmingly white.

Even when prospective tenants do find affordable housing in the Hartford suburbs, low-income Black and Latino renters often face discrimination due to criminal records or source of income. Though landlords in Connecticut are not legally allowed to turn away holders of Section 8 vouchers, who nationwide are more likely to be Black or Latino, Darby-Hudgens says many do anyway.

"What we've seen in the private rental market is a landlord will say, 'I don't accept Section 8,' and you'll say, 'You have to,' and he'll say, 'I'll find another reason to deny you,'" Darby-Hudgens said.

Some housing advocates and state legislators have clamored for statewide zoning reform that would help meaningfully integrate Connecticut's suburbs, but the idea has yet to build serious momentum at the Capitol.

Shari Cantor, West Hartford's mayor, says she understands her town's history of discriminatory housing practices, noting that the house she lives in once held a restrictive covenant. Today, she says, she hopes to create a more inclusive town - but is wary of any housing policy that might risk residents' property values.

Cantor said she supports expanding affordable housing through incremental changes such as accessory dwelling units and affordable carve-outs in broader development projects.

"I think there needs to be increased housing choice," Cantor said. "I don't think we need to necessarily think about building large developments that are affordable. I don't think that's the way for us to go. I think for us it has to be, in a very fully developed town, a more incremental approach."

To Suzette DeBeatham-Brown, Bloomfield's mayor and a 25-year resident of the suburb, her town isn't a victim of the discriminatory housing practices that shaped it. In fact, she values Bloomfield's racial diversity and cherishes the town's status as a welcoming place for Black families.

As she sees it, it's the other suburbs, the ones that have spent decades erecting barriers to racial and socioeconomic inclusion, that miss out on the richness of her town.

"When you say that [affordable housing] would change the color of how you live or where you live, what does that really mean?" DeBeatham-Brown said. "I am a Black woman, and I believe whatever community I'm a part of, I make the community better. Let's not judge people. Let's give people a chance."

Instead, most Connecticut suburbs reflect decades of racist zoning, redlining, restrictive covenants, racial exclusion and racial steering, plus more recent drivers of segregation such as source-of-income discrimination.

"It absolutely matters and is an important part of our history and part of who we are," Cantor said. "So we need to be cognizant of that as we plan for the next generation, the next 20-30 years and what we want to be."

Alex Putterman can be reached at aputterman@courant.com.

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West Hartford is mostly white, while Bloomfield is largely Black; how that came to be tells the story of racism and segregation in American suburbs

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For more than two years, homeowners in one West Hartford neighborhood rallied fervently against a proposal for multifamily housing they say would change their community. The fight began in 2018, when 181 residents signed a petition opposing the development, which had been proposed for the corner of New Britain Avenue and Berkshire Road.