Saturday, September 26, 2009

Weekly Notes

The air is thick and wet, still. Heading out to school at 6:25 a.m. creates instant slick spots in unmentionable places. I take a heavy jello filled breath and start toward the car. An oppressive start to a day that will surely be challenging.

The older building surrounded by a 10 foot fence startled me when I first saw it. Coming from the midwestern suburbs, our schools weren't surrounded by fences, and most were relatively new. A sprawling field and blacktop surrounds the building. Magnolia trees reaching toward the heavens so often spoken of in the bible belt shade the sparse lawn out front. The covered walkway entrance needs painting, and the building seems dim upon walking in. I was immediately disappointed when I bounded in for my interview. Teaching inner-city black students in the east prepared me for anything. I knew I could handle this, but the question was whether I should handle this with a husband who travelled and two small children. It was a moot point, our family needed the income. Small as the salaries are in rural Mississippi, it is still more than nothing.

Teaching emotionally challenged inner-city youth did not prepare me for the systemic prejudice I was faced with. Being one of 3 white teachers in the city was not a big deal. We knew we were a school slated to close, we knew we were fighting societal barriers that come with children from drug abusive homes. All of the staff pulled together to make the best of a hopeless situation. The dynamic of the rural south was like nothing I had ever seen. The white staff members speak and socialize with the other white staff members, and the black staff members do the same. In the south, segregation is still a reality. The laws no longer make it this way, segregation is now societal choice.

As I interviewed with the principal, I was inspired. She told me that this school is facing challenges, but that she knew with the right people she could turn it around. Her straight forward frankness was a refreshing change from the aloof and polished professionals I had interviewed with in the past. We had not been here long, but my husband's family is from the deep south. This provided us with something to talk about. She asked about my experience with diversity and I explained that teaching in an all black inner city school was like boot camp. When you make it out, you are ready to do battle anywhere. She was impressed with my diversity and then asked me a question I thought was strange. "How do you convince people that you aren't a racist?"

At first I wanted to laugh at the absurdness of the question. Of course I'm not a racist, I had recently moved from the east coast outside of Washington D.C. This is 2008, I thought. Surely she was not serious. Looking at her expectant face, I realized that she was. Laughing and saying, "Because I'm not" would not be a suitable response. She wanted me to explain in detail. I took a deep breath and said, "By developing a relationship with the students and showing them over time that I am consistent and fair in my discipline. By making sure that I greet them in the morning, and ask them about their weekend. By listening to them and showing them that I care."

My next shock was about discipline. We were discussing the discipline code at the school, and I asked her about corporal punishment. I had heard about schools using "paddling" in the south, but I had never actually believed it. In the 21st century, surely we have different ways to handle student behavior.

When I asked her the actual question, "Do you paddle in this school?" She looked at me and said, "Yes, we do. That's how we keep our students in line here in the south." I tried to hide my shock.

" I am not comfortable giving 'paddlings'." I told her.

She nodded her head and said, "We have some teachers that do not, and usually the administration handles those situations."

I was relieved, but still shocked. I left the interview feeling excited about teaching in her school Her love for teaching and the children was obvious. I was excited to teach for a principal that still cared about the kids and was trying to make a difference. When the job was offered to me, I took it. I never dreamed that I would face the challenges that lay ahead.

(This material is not to be copied, distributed, or used without permission of the author.)