I know that seeing someone that looked like me helped me become an educator. It was important then and it’s important now.
I read this article the other day and it got me to thinking about my experience in the education system. First, as a student and second, as an educator for 44 years. My first Black teacher was Miss Judith Smith for 7th grade English at Gilbert Stuart School in Providence, RI. Gilbert Stuart, now an elementary school, housed grades K-9 during my day. Yes, it was a while ago.
Miss Smith. Tall. Fashionable. Smart. Black. She and my school counselor, Mr. Gilfillan (I’ll write about him in a different article), were two of the most important people for me during that year. I remember hoping that one day I would be everything that Miss Smith represented.
During the summer after 7th grade, Miss Smith invited some of her students to her military wedding and I attended along with some of my classmates. Ironically, I cannot recall her married name, but I remember how she made me feel. Valued. Smart. Seen.
Junior year was a boom year for Black teachers for me. Enter Mr. Hamilton, my school counselor and Mrs. Cook, who taught Biology. Mr. Hamilton, knowing my desire to teach, recommended me for my first job directly related to teaching. My new employers paid me to correct the assignments given to their students. They (a married couple) let me go when I started critiquing their lessons. No one likes a critic! The bounty continued with Mr. Dowd for Black History and Mrs. McDonald, school counselor extraordinaire, during my senior year. Mrs. McDonald, understanding the challenges of first-generation college students, made sure I dotted every i and crossed every t when I applied to college.
Top: L to R – Mrs. McDonald, Mr. Hamlin Bottom: L to R – Mr. Dowd, Mrs. Cook
When I taught at East Providence High School (EPHS) in East Providence, Rhode Island, a Black mom (a teacher in another city in RI) mentioned that her daughter, one of my students, expressed concern about me. Her daughter wanted to know who did I talk with when I was in the teachers’ lounge because I was the only Black female teacher in our high school. Wow! That took me aback. Kids notice everything and absorb the unspoken lessons, but this one caught me off guard.
Later in the week, I had a conversation with the students in the Multicultural Club (I was the adviser) about code switching and being a minority of one. Too bad this podcast wasn’t around then.
During our next department meeting, his situation came up. When I asked his counselor why she was okay with a student with a strong grade transferring out of an AP class, her response was that he requested it. “You were okay with that reason?” I remember asking. She was. Once again, the explanations. Exhausting work.
Not too much has changed according to this article. Where do we go from here?