When I talk with educators about the intense effort that will be required from them to be successful in our communities, it is nearly always the case that some of them will ask me: How can I do all of this and still have balance in my life? Cornel West says this line of questioning results from a Peter Pan mentality and a Disneyland sensibility; a quintessentially “American” perspective that never wants to grow up and share in the suffering of others, just have fun. We must be willing to stand boldly in solidarity with our communities, sharing the burden of underserved suffering. We cannot treat our students as “other people’s children” — their pain is our pain. Those looking to avoid this challenge will have us believe in individualized notions of success and suffering. We must reject this framework, replacing it with collective struggling alongside of one another, sharing in the victories and the pain. This solidarity is the essential ingredient for radical healing and healing is an often overlooked factor for balance in our lives and for improving achievement in our schools.
Great Challenges Require Great Effort
Is it unfair to ask teachers to make such intense personal and emotional investments in the young people that they teach? An educator’s answer to this question really depends on how they see their purpose as a teacher. If teacher is your “j-o-b” then it makes sense that you would see such an expectation as unfair, or perhaps as something you should only have to do some of the time. However, if teaching is your life’s purpose such that it is an extension of your family (not a burden upon it) then words like “balance” and “fair” take on different meanings. What does it mean to seek balance in a time when your family is suffering? What is a “fair” workload under these conditions?
In my experience, people that wonder on finding balance for themselves amidst struggle are people that see that struggle as a choice; while people that see their well-being as tied to those that have the least, do not see struggle as a choice at all. As a child, I once wondered aloud about my parents struggling so hard to support their seven children. My mother responded, “Sometimes, I do what I want. The rest of the time, I do what I have to.” My parents knew that raising us would be a great challenge that had to be met with great effort. They embraced this with vigor because that’s what they signed up for when they chose to have a family. They didn’t resent the bumps in the road, it was part of the deal. They didn’t resent the sacrifices, they signed up for them.
It seems to me that we aren’t all that different from my parents in our choice to become teachers in the community. It’s what we signed up for, and just as there were certainly times with each one of their children when my parents thought to themselves, “Damn, this is not what I signed up for!”, they also knew that they had no choice but to love us unconditionally, to stay committed to the process, because that is what they signed up for. When teaching in the ’hood isn’t measuring up to romantic “Dangerous Minds Freedom Writers” visions, we don’t get to bail out or say we are going to give a little less of ourselves because we “need some balance.” This is my hardest line with myself and with teachers that work in our communities. It’s also the expectation I have of the students and families in the community. But, we cannot ask our community to do anything that we won’t do ourselves.
There is a softer side to my perspective on this question. I recognize that there are times when I need to grab a moment to myself to sort some things out, just as there were times when my mother or father would have to say, “I’m sick and I need to lay down.” In those instances the children in our house had to step up. Those moments were rare and I know they crushed my parents because they felt like they were letting us down. But, that’s precisely why we love them so much. Our communities could do with a lot more of that kind of “over” commitment; the kind of commitment that stems from loving so much that we don’t worry about whether we’ll be loved back. When we form those types of relationships, the community loves us as much as we have always loved them (particularly when we need it the most). In my mind, that is balance. Balance is not something we can grant to ourselves, rather it is a gift bestowed upon us by those that we spend our lives loving.
An Inconvenient Truth: Teaching Ain’t For Everyone
Let me be clear, I do not believe that the work of being a teacher in communities that suffer under the weight of a litany of oppressive forces (racism, poverty, xenophobia, etc.) is for everyone. I do not say this because I think some people are more genetically predisposed to do it. Rather, I don’t think everyone is willing to accept the cost of meeting the great challenge of being an effective teacher. We know what it takes, we simply lack the collective courage to meet the challenge because it’s terribly inconvenient; and so, we act as though we don’t know how or as if we are still looking for more efficient ways (read shortcuts). We act as though the legacy of 500 years of slavery, colonialism, violent conquest, and institutional neglect will be resolved with mediocre (or even good) effort. It won’t. It took great effort from this nation to destroy our communities. The “inconvenient” truth of this historical fact is that a similarly great commitment of time and effort is required to heal our communities.
http://www.teach4real.com/2010/05/14/an-open-letter-to-teachers-seeking-balance/
This article reflects your passion for our urban areas, which are beautiful in their diversity and constant change. Thank you for your descriptive elements in your literature review which give more insight into our urban schools.
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