For Woke Educators Working With Our Futures
Every day, at random moments, I find myself thinking about things to say to my daughter. She’s in high school now, navigating the world of friends, crushes, oppressive teachers, what’s cool, what’s not and who cares? She has to balance what my partner and I tell her about the world and racism and patriarchy, with what she learns from her friends and popular culture. Where popular culture and our family’s values collide is what I’m thinking about as I write this. A few years ago while she was in her 6th grade social studies class, a boy told her to suck his dick. It was low-pro. Her teacher didn’t catch it. In middle school, kids are navigating all manner of things, including the elusive idea of “snitching” on people, so when my partner and I offered to discuss it with the school on her behalf, she declined. We recommended she tell her teacher and she said she would, though our sense was that she never told any adults at school. Even if she had, our experience was that no one would actually do anything beyond deliver a stern lecture in private, maybe. Frequent reports from our daughter indicated that interpersonal conflicts were easily ignored by staff and administration. Students were expected to deal with conflict on their own with no particular guidance, framework for understanding, or analysis. Conflicts which include sexually aggressive comments — such as one eleven-year-old saying “Suck my dick!” to another eleven-year-old — are considered the same as one kid calling another a jerk, for example. Subsequent conversations with other families and teachers themselves confirmed what we knew; there is a level of understanding on campus that boys will be boys.
In one short instance I feel heartened to imagine our daughter sticking up for herself and handling things on her own. I imagine her strut of independence and a certain pride welling up in her as she tells this boy what he can do and where he can go. This fantastical reverie dissipates however when I remember who I’m thinking about; our kid is smart and courageous and resilient and has lived a thousand lives already, and yet when it comes to handling conflict, let’s just say she is still learning how to do so productively. The image of the fierce eleven-year-old full of bravado and confidence is swiftly replaced with the awkwardly beautiful and incredibly self-conscious kid who plays with dolls, who reads fantasy and loves Shakespeare and who, if she could be anything, would be a ballet-dancing Olympian goddess/gymnast with magic powers who could turn into a mermaid, on horseback. This is a facet of her existence which she does not permit herself to share with her peers. Like many young girls she is expected to put away her young imagination and desires in order to move through and make sense of the world. As she grows older a larger part of that world will be inhabited by a persistent dark cloud that she and I and most cis and trans women and girls in the u.s. have had to make our ways through since we learned to perceive danger in the world; boys will be boys and when they are they can be dangerous to the rest of us.
Boys have been allowed to be boys for ages and we see evidence of this regularly. In school hallways from elementary on up to the university level boys grab at girls, smack them on the ass, comment on their bodies and move on and around them with a general sense of entitlement which they have earned in our present culture. Whenever educators categorize their aggressive behavior as playful, whenever boys violate another person’s boundaries and we write it off by saying that boys will be boys, we are confirming the message that it’s okay, but more importantly, we’re telling them that their assaultive behavior isn’t alarming, and isn’t worthy of our time or attention.
Very recently, folks were up in arms because the now-president of the u.s. once remarked that it was okay to just grab women’s vaginas and kiss them on the mouth because he’s rich and so of course that’s what women want him to do to them. That this powerful cis-het-white man had advocated sexually assaulting women, citing his power and position as a means to that end, and that he was still permitted to become the president of the u.s. is depressing. It was also a catalyst which reignited a call for a general “feminism” which has catapulted people who identify as women to the forefront of the current anti-president movement. And while people are rightfully appalled that he became the president in spite of (or perhaps because of) his blatant sexism (to put it mildly), young girls and women in our communities are assaulted and abused. And then they come to school. And we expect them to focus and “do well.” And we talk about Brother’s Keepers and young men dying in the streets, and don’t get it twisted. There is no either/or here. There is a dire need to position sexual assault at the front of the emergent canon of understanding trauma as it pertains to children and youth in urban settings.
That our society is a hetero-sexist one which privileges the lives and experiences of hetero-cis-gendered men is undeniable. But I don’t want to focus on some amorphous idea of the general population or what it does/doesn’t understand. I cannot now and would never attempt to write on behalf of the Everyone’s of america. Rather, I write as a Black cis-queer woman, an educator and a parent, and it is those of you working in myriad contexts of urban education to whom I direct this letter.
Trauma-centered, Trauma-central
If you work or are otherwise anywhere in the vicinity of public education, then you understand that there are always a handful of catchphrases, buzzwords and trends that school districts cling to in an effort to keep up with ever-changing academic standards for “success.” Here in the Bay Area we are lucky to have educators and others who are working within a variety of frameworks to address the negative effects that trauma has on urban students from kindergarten through high school. Trauma-centered work is taking on a larger presence in professional development, in counselling and in classroom practice. Dr. Joyce Dorado and the UCSF/Hearts program have been at the forefront of this work in SF, while folks like Fania Davis and Shawn Ginwright and countless others have been working throughout the East Bay with youth around trauma and healing[1]. These emerging frameworks are critical for educators and other folk who work with urban youth in the Bay. Traumatic events occur for our youth at astronomical rates. When we in education speak of trauma, we are almost always talking about racism, poverty, gun violence, child abuse, neglect, drug abuse or gang violence and lord, do these events persist at astonishing rates in poor and working class communities. However, the most under-studied, under-represented area addressed when we’re talking about trauma in the urban environment is the trauma of sexual assault, particularly as it affects and oppresses young women and girls who attend our schools.
I think that if anyone is serious about ameliorating trauma and the traumatic experiences that urban youth face, then they need to be serious about addressing sexual violence. We KNOW that sexual assault on the bodies of women has at its nexus the idea that our bodies are commodities or objects and that people, specifically men, are entitled to them. I know from working with very young kids for more than twenty years that the first times a young boy utters the phrase “Suck my dick,” he is summoning an attempt to wield power, that he is expressing a will to dominate and that he has been given the message that his power comes from an expectation that he “be a man;” most cis-gendered boys receive the message that the power they are entitled to specifically emanates from the existence of their penis. Some adorable, earnest, intelligent eleven-year-old told my daughter to suck his dick and yet nobody thought this was particularly worrisome or dangerous. Young girls and women are navigating this every day, every hour, and they’re doing it alone.
I find that at the early childhood/elementary and middle school levels, where most of my work and scholarship has centered, many educators and care takers, when alerted to the fact that their boys are making crude gestures and emulating sexual harassment, believe that they don’t mean anything by it. I submit that these folks don’t recognize that tomorrow those same boys will become teenagers, and then young men, possibly parents, and by then their behavior will have been so normalized that it will become harder to convince anyone that these are problems that need to be addressed; actions which should have long since been terminated.
Popular Pedagogy and Trying To Relate
A few years ago I attended a conference at UC Berkeley addressing youth trauma. One of the speakers (whom I think is a great educator and an important voice for youth in our communities) spoke about the importance of meeting youth where they’re at. The speaker was making an argument for culturally relevant pedagogy and for implementing pedagogical approaches through a trauma-informed lens. During the talk, this speaker summoned the late Hip-Hop icon 2Pac Shakur as emblematic of a young revolutionary mind whose work and life can be used to reach students living in embattled neighborhoods. 2Pac can help educators understand urban youth. This was not the first time I’ve heard 2Pac’s revolutionary potential expounded upon by brilliant educators. It never sits right with me. This conference took place shortly after the incident with my daughter. I was still thinking about how in educational circles, the folks who most promote 2Pac’s work are cis-gendered men of many backgrounds who conveniently put away all of his incredibly problematic ish in favor of the narrative of 2Pac as humble and troubled revolutionary. Now, forget his glorification and commodification of “Thug Life” (which even Nikki Giovanni tattooed on her arm in solidarity with 2Pac). Forget his quasi-machiavellian, pro-capitalist proselytizing. Forget even in isolation his consistent baiting of “faggots,” “bitches,” and “hoes”; we all make certain allowances when we encounter art and I’m not about the free-speech argument right now. I’m about Ayanna. We can ignore — temporarily — all of the b.s. that 2Pac and countless other dudes like him spit out in order to sell records and make millions, but we can’t erase Ayanna.
Ayanna Jackson went to criminal court, faced 2Pac, his lawyers, a completely unsympathetic press corps and an even more unsympathetic Black “community” and accused 2Pac of rape. This is no small thing. Anyone who has ever been sexually assaulted, molested or raped will tell you that. The statistics regarding the number of women who don’t ever come forward after an assault are staggering and the reasons are appalling; survivors are afraid of retaliation and they’re afraid that no one will ever believe them. It’s a brave human who is willing to confront their attacker. I believe Ayanna.
I grew up in the 90’s and folks, I also believe Anita, to this very day. No, it’s not because Clarence Thomas is a self-hating Black man who would judge against his own Black self to further white power; I BELIEVE Anita Hill she told us — told the world that he sexually assaulted her for years and she gained nothing but vitriol in the process. Clarence Thomas then went on to become a supreme court justice. I came up in the 90’s and I believe Dee Barnes because Dr. Dre beat her up and beat up several other women. Dr. Dre continues to make millions of dollars and has never had to answer for any of his abuse, even as the women he abused struggled to make ends meet after he (unironically) blacklisted them. I believe Ayanna Jackson because she told us what 2Pac (and another man) did. We need to BELIEVE Ayanna.
I also know that for folk who came up in the 90’s, who are oriented around Hip-Hop and critical social justice, 2Pac is a sacred martyr and that no amount of survivor-centric discourse can change the mind of a true Pac fan, much the way you’ll never convince an old peace loving hippie that John Lennon was a narcissist who beat up on women. We live and continue to operate in a society where hetero-cis-normative oppression is acceptable because it has been normalized. So while I’m not ever gonna come for 2Pac’s many adoring fans, I am going to keep saying that it is negligent and irresponsible to not even discuss this incredibly problematic aspect of 2Pac’s life and humanity with friends, students, and (if you have the platform) audiences. It’s not enough that he wrote poetry and said some revolutionary stuff from time to time. To ignore this part of his history keeps the silence around sexual assault which perpetuates rape culture, hetero-patriarchy, and the normalization of violence against women.
I bring these complicated notions to the table understanding that people gon’ hate. People gon’ get up about “beating our brothers down,” and I reject that kind of simple thinking. I reject arguments that ask us to shine the light outward instead of in. For every mention of Chris Brown’s abuse of Rhianna there are a thousand calls to “stop demonizing Black men.” For each allegation of rape leveled against Bill Cosby and R. Kelly, there are thousands calling for us to look at Woody Allen, Harvey Weinstein, etc., but I’m not here for that. Black and Brown girls and Black and Brown women in this country have survived countless sexual assaults and rapes at the hands of our own fucking men and yet, boys will be boys. And yet, we are asked to hold space for the complexity of a young man of color’s experience with domination and oppression at the hands of white men. We’re asked to please put our trauma away right now because the men are speaking.
The men stay speaking. Even in this epoch, when educators are beginning to examine and approach and honor the multiple complex traumas of our young people — particularly in the urban school setting — in order to focus on our healing and survival, we stay privileging the male experience. I’m not engaging in an “oppression Olympics” when I say this. I’m saying that we speak of trauma and murder in one breath while omitting the fact that sexual assault is ACTUALLY an epidemic which causes consistent trauma, the effects of which are still largely unaddressed by us educators, social scientists, activists, organizers, etc. That our young men assault young women and girls, that young women and girls are assaulted by men in their homes and in the street economy; that time and again we are asked to put that shit away, to not talk about it, to not make it a big deal; we are told that it is our fault, we are told that we want it, we are told that we are gold-diggers — all of it creates and recreates damage to and within our communities. It is a darkness that we keep and which has been allowed to grow. When we make invisible this kind of repetitive trauma, we enable and perpetuate it. Is it traumatic that young men and boys stay dying in the streets of the lower bottoms month after month and year after year? Absolutely. Is it equally traumatic that young women and girls are constantly violated by boys and men? Without a doubt. Do all of these things diminish us? It’s undeniable. Can they be stopped or, at the very least stemmed? Of course.
I repeat that I understand — I BELIEVE — that our young boys and men face many dangers in the world (including sexual violence). As I write this, I find myself naively hoping that my daughter and that all of the other Black and Brown girls growing up out here don’t get assaulted or raped by young or old men. I’m hoping that some dude doesn’t ever again approach my kid and tell her to suck his dick, in anger or in unwanted proposition. The reality though is that while she may not have to be physically assaulted by some man or men, she will definitely continue to be verbally and psychologically assaulted. Because boys will be boys and men are men and because by neatly putting away their problematic behaviors in order to exalt their possibilities, we create escape hatches when we should be building strength through accountability. This doesn’t have to be the way it is. As educators and caretakers, we are some of the most influential people in a young person’s life. We don’t need to only shine the light inward. We should be teaching our kids to be light-keepers.
Epilogue
I wear many professional hats in my work and one of them is as a restorative justice practitioner. I believe in the power of a circle and the power of accountability. I’ve participated in circles with little kids in schools, adult community members, and men in prison. I know and believe that transformation is possible and that it always comes after acknowledgement of harm. To return to 2Pac, I would have liked to see a moment in time where 2Pac could have been brought to a circle (or place of account), to be confronted by Ayanna, to hear how his assault affected her and her community. I would have liked to see the same 2Pac who cried in Maya Angelou’s arms. The 2Pac that your kids and my kids encounter now may have gone to prison, but he was never accountable to Ayanna Jackson. He went to prison because he broke a rule, not because the law cared about the impact on Ayanna. Our woke educators teach about his revolutionary possibility, but by omitting this aspect of his story, they deprive our kids from seeing woke educators rejecting 2Pac’s hetero-patriarchal violence. It’s a missed opportunity which I fear is repeated whenever his damaged pedals are not addressed at the stem and root. Maya Angelou asked him, “Do you know how important you are?” But did anyone in his community ever follow up with him and say, really, “Do you now how important our young women and girls are?”
I don’t think that 2Pac needs a defender. I think that our kids need to know that the people who work with them have a serious critique of hetero-sexist patriarchal attitudes and violence and about sexual assault. By avoiding these hard conversations, not addressing various types of sexual traumas at their roots in our communities, and refusing to complicate the narratives of the people we look up to, we continue to make the world unsafe for women and girls. We need to teach consent in school and at home. We need to be open about what our kids are doing when they cause harm. We need to provide opportunities for the men and boys who cause harm to be called in by their communities and to be held to account. We need to ride for our young women and girls. We will not have liberation without them.
One of the most radical things that we can teach kids is that it is not necessary to get over on another, to wield power over another in order to live and thrive. We have this amazing opportunity to not only teach kids math and letters, but to teach them community is more than membership — it’s compassion, empathy and participation. It’s culture. We can teach them that the dominant culture perpetuates damage and encourages destruction, but that’s not the only way we can be. We can teach them that being abused doesn’t mean that you need to become abusive. We can teach them how to break disruptive cycles, but we’re not going to do it with zero-understanding policies or new protocols or even multi-million-dollar professional development days. We teach by doing, by modeling. Teachers can talk about the revolutionary potential of a figure like 2Pac and also talk about his rape of Ayanna Jackson. They can teach about how 2Pac’s community missed a major opportunity to hold him to account. We can and should teach young kids how consent works and what community can look like. Teachers can teach 2Pac and talk about how, for all of his talk of liberation he wasn’t able to escape white supremacy or hetero-patriarchy; that there is a difference between merely understanding and doing. It’s called praxis.
[1] This is not meant to be an exhaustive or authoritative compendium of their work, rather it is a glimpse into the important work that they do.
Thank you for reading, liking, clapping and sharing. I’m an anti-authoritarian restorative justice practitioner and educator here in the SF/Bay Area. You can find me here, at my website melissamerin.com, or on IG @decolonialstructuralism
