COVID-19, Thank You
Mr. Positive
On March 19th, my world stopped. As it did for the entire world when COVID-19, better known as the Coronavirus, started a global pandemic and rebirthed a world I thought died with the bubonic plague. Spread invisibly through the air, Ms. Rona pushed us all into our respective homes with the blinds shut and doors sealed. Grocery trips turned into episodes of Grey’s Anatomy as we avoided each other and sprinted for the last rolls of toilet paper. For us educators, our once bustling classrooms flipped to awkward Zoom calls that rarely met the attendance requirement for a successful lesson. And for the students who were able to join virtually, we were sure to experience at least a few who stared blankly into their school issued laptop as we encouraged them to come off mute. Every day was some sort of surprise and nothing was routine.
But soon, things became… “normal”.
We settled in, adjusted our masks and welcomed the human interaction through our devices. We even saw the light at the end of the tunnel as states began to loosen restrictions and the death tolls were hidden from view. Ahh yes, brunch and mimosas!
But it wouldn't be long until another pandemic hit… RACISM.
It started with Breonna Taylor, though I use “started” loosely. It is difficult to put an exact start date to such a historically systemic issue. Racism in the U.S is so synonymous with our society that to call it out means to question the very idea of being American. But for someone like me, a black man, to be American means to be defined by my race as a bird is defined by its ability to fly.
We are here due to the murder of Ahma --- No, we are here due to the murder of George Flo --- no Rayshard Broo --- No. We are here due to the murder of *insert name* out of the most recent institutionally supported murder of a black man by a police officer. In recent weeks, I have literally watched from my window as hundreds and thousands have marched chanting countless names to the rhythmic tune of squad cars who patiently waited to empty the streets with smoky canisters and rubber bullets.
So, I shut my blinds and looked away.
I scrolled up and down my social media feeds to take my mind away from the trauma but all I can see is the outrage of my peers and more video evidence of police brutality against black bodies
So, I locked my phone.
I turned on my favorite podcasts and sports shows for a dose of inspiration and entertainment, only to be greeted by the same names being chanted in the streets.
So, I turned off my TV.
I even tried to watch Netflix only to find out that it too dedicated its platform to showing films about the oppression and violence against people with my face and others like it.
So, I just shut my laptop. My trauma paraded in front of my face, so I went to the mirror and was haunted again Ahma --- No, George Flo --- no Rayshard Broo --- No *Just Me*.
But I can’t escape from… me.
What many people are receiving now, as they struggle with the continued isolation, is the slightest glimpse into my reality. This virus has forced the topic of racism to seep into every crevice of our lives. From the closet racist to the super-ally, we have all been challenged with where we stand on these issues. And please know, there are only two sides. What side am I on? Is protesting enough? Can I do more? Am I part of the problem? Tough questions when put on the spot, but I was born into these thoughts. I have no choice on where I stand because it was already chosen by my oppressor.
But what do we do now… we ACT!
As educators we will soon grapple with the question of how we translate 2020 to our students. How do we bring live history to our classrooms and make sense of it for them? How do we maintain truth while conquering our own biases, short-comings, and trauma? The answer is we must do what we will soon ask our students to do. We must act by educating ourselves beyond our lived experiences. Even I must unveil myself, so I do not taint my kids with the blood of my own pain.
But… HOW?
STEP ONE: We start by looking ourselves in the mirror as educators and answering those tough questions because we know that our students will ask them if we are ready or not. Where were you? Did you protest? Why are cops killing black people? Some of us have already gotten these questions from our own children (or in my case nieces and nephew). We do not sulk in our inadequacies nor do we triumph in our progress because the job has not been finished.
STEP TWO: We have to educate ourselves on the issues. For my black educators, that doesn’t mean retraumatizing ourselves continuously with videos and tweets, rather finding what others are doing to fix what has happened. Reach out to peers who know more, read books/articles about our history and the history of this movement. We learn the political makeup of our states, counties and districts to get a pulse on the shot callers in our areas. We familiarize ourselves with elections beyond the presidential because true change happens at your doorstep.
SPECIALLY FOR WHITE EDUCATORS
First, please stop apologizing. Though you may have varying degrees of work to do yourselves, apologizing flips the situation to make you the victim. It also does not fix a single event that has happened, will happen and is happening right now. We do not need you in the front lines, rather in the dark rooms reaching those faces who are afraid to speak to us. I believe most hate stems from ignorance, so educate them because Black people are tired. Watch the movies, read the books, and use your privilege as a weapon to dismantle systematic racism. Start at home and expand to friends, colleagues and ignorant strangers who still can’t see that my life matters.
TEACHING IS AN ACT OF RESISTANCE
For many educators, we know our goals can be accomplished with honesty. Do not hide the facts from our students. We must do the work to make sure that our students are informed and pushed to do their part as well. If we aren’t familiar with them, it's summertime: DO THE WORK. Find ways to build the truth into the curriculum with books, math word problems and scientific experiments that push our kids to be curious citizens. Let their education reflect their lived realities. We are their guiding light, its time they saw the truth.
We have momentum, do not let our work die with a tweet.
Originally from Philadelphia, Frank Jackson graduated from Texas Christian University where he received a Bachelor of Arts in Journalism with minors in Spanish and Sociology. Frank recently accepted a position to teach Spanish and English classes at his old high school in Philadelphia after teaching two years in Dallas at Kimball High School.
Outside of teaching, Frank serves as a blogger for Education PowerED. Furthermore, Frank is a student at the University of Pennsylvania studying for his Masters in Applied Positive Psychology. An avid reader, writer, world traveler and positive thinker, Frank is a true believer that perspective is the key to unlocking the greatness of life.