Teaching While Black

Photo credit: Kendra Berglund 

First day of school, walk into a room where no one looks like you. This is different from all those years past, where anxiety and questioning my right to be here have faded. My attempt at passing as an "acceptable negro" have departed because now I enter these classrooms as the professor.

I walk to the front of the room, past gapping mouths and surprised eyes - some even utter the words that their brains have on repeat, "You're the teacher?!"

I used to think this was due to my age but then something miraculous happened, I began to have more black students. Before you get too excited, I mean two or three a semester-which is double compared to the past ten years I've taught in this state. It was with the introduction of black students that I realized my afro sporting-bright colored tights-stripes on stripes- boot wearring presence wasn't questioned because I look young but because the student's prototype of a professor was white.

When they ask if I'm the teacher what their coded language truly is asking is, "What could this black woman possibly teach us?" They accept my education after debating with the content I present, as early as the syllabus. The looks of condensation as they present their assignments, their accusations of reverse racism as I read the words of Rosa Parks' eulogy, as we analysis historical speeches. The glare the black students receive when they speak, their turns of phrase - a strange cocophony to the students who have never been so close to such brown skin. The looks of pleading when I allow the black students to be loud, vivacious and fun, as if to say to me, "Can't you people do this somewhere else, this is a classroom after all." Because it would be one thing if there was a black instructor - but to have this grouping of them in one place is, unacceptable.

This right way of acting speaking and behaving which has been adopted as proper  by whom? Your values and cultural practices are great for you but why am I expected to adopt your norms? What makes your way the better way? I know the answer is systemic racism so please do not break yourself trying to find the response or avoid it once you arrive at the same conclusion.

To teach in a state with 3% black people is to be, used to being questioned. Yes I have authority now so I will no longer attempt to fit in but every day is battle. Students place themselves as my equal because, after all, I'm just a black girl that affirmative action let in.

The funny part is, the jokes on them. If they stay around me for the required about of time to earn their credits, they start to realize that they are changing. They are seeing their privilege and for the first time they are seeing what that means. Their eyes open.