I cannot imagine a school in the country that is not experiencing some tension, and hopefully some discussion, about diversity and difference in America. Whether this is triggered by yet another incident of an unarmed young black man being gunned down, or the ugly vitriol of current presidential campaigns, the otherization of yet another immigrant group (take your pick: Muslims of middle-eastern descent, or undocumented immigrants from lands to the south), or masking intolerance as “religious freedom,” we continue to struggle as a nation with most every dimension of our diversity. We need to better understand, for example, the national soundbites “Black Lives Matter” and “All Lives Matter.” This is where we find ourselves, as a country, at this moment in time.
Could there be a more important topic for schools to discuss? If we seek to prepare our students for the future, what could be more vital to their future success in a world where they must learn to live and work with people who may look, talk, or pray differently than themselves? How do we bridge gaps between our own life experiences and those of others whose life experiences may be very different? How do we help students acquire these skills?
I continue to believe that we, in America, have the best chance of rising above sectarianism. However, to do this, we must acknowledge that bias and ethnic tension are not exceptions to the harmonious norm, but actually endemic to our history. Many writers, historians, and educators have made this case far more effectively than I could. Schools have many societal responsibilities, including preparing young people for the world of work and productive adulthood, fostering an informed citizenry, and partnering with parents to assist with the socialization of children (to name a few). To support these goals, schools must teach an honest history which celebrates our heroes and accomplishments, and also reveals the complexity and imperfection of society. Otherwise we leave students ill-equipped to build upon the past.
This morning I attended an assembly with our Upper School students that provided a step in the right direction. What was this assembly, and why an onion metaphor in this blog’s title? The high school at SSFS watched the TED talk “How to Raise a Black Son in America” by Clint Smith. (Clint is a poet, educator, and advocate - he is an award-winning teacher of 10th grade English in Maryland’s Prince George’s County.). I cannot imagine anyone can watch this video without having an emotional button or two pushed. I encourage you to view this video if you are not familiar with it.
The video was immediately followed by a brief reflective Meeting for Worship in the silent Quaker tradition, and then students broke into smaller discussion groups. No one claimed to have a model lesson plan; teachers did not present themselves as the authority on this topic. The outcome was not predetermined. The assembly was not part of a district-approved curriculum or neatly aligned with a particular curriculum benchmark. This activity will not end with a confirmation that students have learned the intended lesson. It lacks formative or summative assessment of student learning. It is messy, open-ended, and even a little unpredictable. Our school did it because our students needed it, and we (faculty, staff, administration) needed it - an opportunity to talk about a tangled, emotional topic: diversity and difference. It reflected a Sandy Spring Friends approach to education which we often describe as the cycle Question - Reflection - Action: encouraging students to question what they see and hear, reflect upon the implications, and act upon one’s learning and convictions.
For the 21st Century, our students need technology skills that their parents did not need. But more importantly, they need better skills in the area of diversity than their parents have been able to engender. Students need to be empowered to build on what has come before, as we built on what our parents did. It is essential, vital education. Too many of our nation’s schools are shackled by divisive politics to be able to tackle the challenges of diversity head-on, feeling compelled to “keep the lid on.” SSFS is not a diversity utopia, but I am blessed to work at a school that has freedom to engage in this messy but essential work.
In America, we continue to peel back the layers of prejudice and discrimination, like peeling an onion. We fought a bitter war over slavery, fundamental human rights, and national identity. We experienced riot and violence as we sought to pass core civil rights legislation. As our work goes deeper, we have a broadening understanding of diversity, and our struggles move to more subtle layers, like systemic racism and microaggressions. We have to wrestle with not only national legislation, from which we might be somewhat personally distant, but also our own beliefs and assumptions which are at our core as individuals. It is not neat and tidy. Onions make for great soup. But, as anyone who has peeled an onion knows, some discomfort is inherent to the process.