I have been thinking a lot about belonging. About how we assume that school is seen as a safe place by all who experience it. How we assume that we are all doing enough to help these kids, these children whose lives don’t often mirror our own, these kids who someone, somewhere have made feel as if they do not belong.
I have been thinking a lot about feeling seen. About how we assume that in our schools we do enough to let every child know that we see them. That we do enough to let the adults know that they belong too. That they matter. That they are an indispensable part of our community, a community that thrives on embracing all, on love, on acceptance.
We write fancy vision statements where we tell the world that this is a safe place, one filled with opportunities for all who enter to learn, to become something more. We ask our staff to live this vision, even as they feel unsafe themselves. We have assemblies and events celebrating our accomplishments. We hand out awards and accolades. Praise and positive notes. We remind each other not to count down to the break, to the weekend, to the end of the year because for some kids home is not a safe place.
And yet, we forget that for some school isn’t safe either.
For some school is everything they fear.
For some school is only a mirror of the society who also refuses to acknowledge them as full citizens. As full human beings who deserve to be embraced, loved, accepted.
We fail at times.
Sometimes purposefully when we refuse to acknowledge that those who do not fit into our moral view of what it means to be righteous are still deserving of love. Purposefully when we suspend entire groups of children more than others. Purposefully when we enact dress codes that are only a condemnation of those whose choices we don’t agree with. Purposefully when we offer no protections for those who need it. When we let children fail at extraordinary rates because of the circumstances they face. When we continue to say that “Boys will be boys…”When we fail to stop the adults in charge from targeting each other and creating toxic work environments. When we fail to see that in our own silence, that within our own fear of rocking the boat, we are actively telling some that this, this place, is not one where they should ever let their guard down.
And sometimes we don’t even see our own failure. How when we leave certain books out of our libraries we are telling children whose stories are mirrored in those pages that their lives do not belong in our schools. That their lives are too mature, immoral, or indecent. When we tell kids to cut their hair, to change their clothing, when we display pictures of our district but they fail to show all of the people who are a part of it. When we don’t translate our news so all can read it. When we only set up events during school hours and fail to see that not everyone can change their schedule. When our texts, our videos, our learning materials fail to showcase all types of lives. When we assume that everything is a learning experience and surely those are experiencing it just need to work a little harder to find success. That we have done all we can.
And then we wonder why not every child finds success. Why educators quit. We have so much work to do.
We can do more and it starts with acknowledging those we do not see. Those whose lives are not currently valued. And I don’t mean silently valued, I mean embraced through our language, our decorations, our instructional decisions. Embraced out loud as we continually realize that there is more work to do. Making space for their voices so we can use them as a compass for how we can grow. Reflecting on our own choices and actions so we can see how we too can do more. We can ask questions through surveys and conversations and then act when people tell us that it is not safe. That they do not belong, instead of dismissing it as a fluke, only the opinion of a few. As the mother of a child who was viciously bullied, who begged us not to send her to school because it was not safe, I will tell you this, being heard is where the change begins.
The other day I overheard a child tell others about what it meant to come to our school. She said, “When I came to this school and saw the rainbow stickers, I was shook, it finally felt like I belonged.” She felt like she belonged because of a sticker. How many others do not? We assume all kids feel seen and safe at our schools, but do they really? The only way to find out is to start asking questions. Who will ask the first one?
If you are wondering where I will be in the coming year or would like to have me speak, please see this page. If you like what you read here, consider reading my book, Passionate Readers – The Art of Reaching and Engaging Every Child. This book focuses on the five keys we can implement into any reading community to strengthen student reading experiences, even within the 45 minute English block. If you are looking for solutions and ideas for how to re-engage all of your students consider reading my very first book Passionate Learners – How to Engage and Empower Your Students.
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