Since We Are All Growing Up In America

“I will simply take the position that the spoken word, like the written word, amounts to a nonsensical arrangement of sounds or letters without a consensus that assigns ‘meaning.’ And building from the meanings of what we hear, we order reality. Words themselves are innocuous; it is the consensus that gives them true power.”

-Gloria Naylor, “The Meanings of a Word”

With enormous bags under my eyes and a tired, heavy heart, I stepped into the classroom to face my students. My husband and I stayed up late the night before watching peaceful protests turn into destructive riots from the safety and comfort of our bedroom about ten miles away from downtown Charlotte. I knew walking into the classroom that next day would be difficult. My students are working on a definition essay. “You are on a rescue mission to save a word or idea from common misconceptions.” We have been discussing how we can use writing to literally break down ideas and construct new ones. “Writing gives us a voice and makes things happen!” I challenge them to write the paper to change the world. Their reading for that day was Gloria Naylor’s essay, “The Meanings of a Word.” This timing was one giant window of opportunity-an authentic teachable moment in the making.

Naylor’s essay is about the word “nigger” and how she “heard it for the first time” from a little boy who called her that in her third grade class, even though she had grown up hearing her family members use the word at home. It was different and context mattered. She was shocked. Naylor closes the essay with her mother answering her difficult questions.  “And since she knew that I had to grow up in America, she took me in her lap and explained.”

Earlier that morning I had been the mother trying to answer difficult questions. My two blonde, blue-eyed children sat comfortably eating their breakfast in our South Charlotte home. They did not witness or hear the violence from the night before. My husband and I watched it on CNN, just like many Americans. Yet, this time it was different. The city we call home had been cracked open with raw, painful anger brought into clear view. I struggled to talk to my kids about the difference between peaceful protesting and rioting. I did not pretend to have a solution for all of this heartbreak, but I was compelled to acknowledge it and charge my kids with the task of “filling people’s buckets” at school that day. “Our city could use some extra kindness today. Let’s spread some love.”

"We all need a little bit of love today."
Photo Cred: Ann Doss Helms @anndosshelms
A woman hands out flowers on Thursday night in CLT.*

After getting my children ready for school, I grabbed my phone to check on a dear family friend. He is a police officer here in Charlotte. He has been working around the clock for the last couple of days. I know he has been hugging his wife and three kids a little tighter when he leaves for work lately. He is a gentle, kind man who cares deeply about helping people. We jokingly refer to him as “the chicken whisperer” because of the way his chickens follow him around his backyard, and he lovingly defends “his girls” from hawks or other prey. I know in any kind of emergency, he is the person I would call to show up at our front door. He is one of many - not just an issue or a faceless blue uniform, but a friend, a husband and a father. I want to make sure he is okay and knows I want to listen to his story.

As a teacher, I have the unique opportunity of learning from my students each and every day. I get to listen to their stories and see the world through their eyes. I have put my foot in my mouth on more than one occasion. There was the time when I was teaching at a public high school in NYC. I was proclaiming to my class that one of my favorite things about living in Manhattan was that I could have anything and everything delivered: my laundry, my groceries, my dinner, etc. One of my bright-eyed students laughed as he exposed my Southern naïveté. “Maybe in your neighborhood, Miss. Nobody delivers anything where we live.” Gulp. I was only thinking about my NYC, not their version. I was humbled and ashamed.

Similarly, I recently had an eye-opening conversation with an adult African American student. She was talking to me about her teenage son. “He is so mad at me for taking away his hooded sweatshirts,” she sighed. “He thinks I am trying to control him, but I am trying to keep him alive.” She continued to tell me about the fear she lives with every time her son leaves the house. She doesn’t want him to be associated with certain groups in her neighborhood. He is a good boy who plays basketball and is hoping for a scholarship. I looked at her across my desk and told her that my son wears a hooded sweatshirt to school almost every day of his life. I had never thought twice about it. I never needed to. “I am so sorry you carry this fear.”

Photo Cred: www.charlotteagenda.com*

Back in my classroom, the room buzzed as we all simultaneously received the critical alert text. The college was closing early. I told my students to text their loved ones and let them know they were okay. I fought back tears as I opened the floor for discussion, just as I initiated dialogue with my kids and my police officer friend earlier in the day. This conversation is for everyone.

My students are black, white, Asian, Middle Eastern and so much more. They are Jewish, Christian, Muslim and atheists. Their voices and narratives represent a broad spectrum of life experiences. If words themselves are harmless and we decide the significance they will have, as Naylor suggests, then we are not powerless. We can unite so that all voices are heard and welcomed to the conversation. We can make a change. We can choose kindness. We can choose to examine these issues through the eyes of the people they impact the most, many who have and will experience injustice, fear, and violence that most of us will never comprehend. We can be critical thinkers examining all the evidence before forming and projecting our opinions out into this world. We can teach our children to speak the language of kindness and love rather than hate and judgement. We can realize that this does not have to be a Democrat or Republican issue, nor a liberal or conservative one. And since we are all growing up in America, the consensus can be that this is a HUMAN issue.

*All images were taken from a collection by Katie Levans, Co-Founder and Creative Director of Charlotteagenda.com. You can see these images at: https://www.charlotteagenda.com/66969/11-images-hope-charlotte-needs-see-week/.