A Teacher's Perspective...

I remember the first time I realized that race "meant" something to people. I don't like to use the term "color blind," but I have always noticed race the way I notice that the sky is blue or cloudy, and that the grass is green- it's just a part of life. I was 6 and in the 1st grade, and my Girl Scout Troop was headed to our meeting place for our weekly meet-up. We met in a neighborhood club house that was across the street, so we walked most of the time. In true Girl Scout fashion, we utilized the buddy system and were all told to grab someone's hand. Growing up in West Cobb County in the 90s and 2000s, the demographic consisted mostly of white, middle-class families (although this demographic changed over the course of my time in school). We had one African American in our troop, I'll call her Sally. I knew Sally was black, but I knew I was white- it was just the way things were, and I liked Sally just the same. When it was time to pair up, Sally went to grab another girl's hand as her buddy. This young lady turned away from Sally, looked at our troop leaders and said, "I don't hold those people's hands." One of our leaders quickly stepped in without missing a beat and said, "Well Sally is such a sweet girl, I'd like to be the one to hold her hand today."

In my 6 year old brain I went through the reasons someone wouldn't want to hold Sally's hand- she didn't smell funny, she wasn't mean, she didn't say things that were "weird." The only difference was that Sally was black.

I grew up in a home where race was discussed, but I had never heard of white privilege until I went to college. I'll start by saying that I consider myself conservative politically, but I'm more of an "independent." I always tend to vote for the lesser of two evils because I never 100% agree with everything a politician stands for, especially when it comes to education reform. There are some things I'm more liberal about, and some I'm conservative about. This concept of white privilege kind of threw me for a loop- I've faced adversity. My dad died when I was 6 (I was there), I found my grandmother dead Christmas morning when I was 13, I knew we sometimes struggled financially as a single-parent household, I was putting myself through college, and I felt I had rightfully earned everything I had accomplished in life. I had no idea that many of these things came easily to me because I was white. When these discussions started I was kind of hurt and felt like anyone could pick themselves up by their bootstraps- it was the American way.

It all started to make sense when I read a list of products that are catered toward white people that people of color are not given "access" (for lack of a better word) to. This list included things like the fact that people of color couldn't find their favorite foods at the grocery store, or that it was found in the ethnic foods aisle, that hair care products were found in the ethnic hair care aisle- as if everyone who isn't white is labeled as "ethnic." I had noticed these things, but it all came down to a band-aid.

Yes, a band-aid. I had never thought about the fact that band-aids are marketed as "flesh toned," and they all come in various shades of peach. As if the only color of flesh there is has a peach undertone. This is where it hit me- I can go out and easily find something to match my "flesh tone," but not everyone else can. This was my "ah-ha" moment, if you will.

My next big wake up call came when I was student teaching in Rockdale County. I was in a Title 1 area, and out of 180 students, about 15 of them were white. I remember noticing this, but again, not thinking anything of it. It wasn't until a fellow RA, who is black, asked me if I felt like I was able to connect with all of my black students. I had been at the school for about 6 weeks at that point and thought that my lack of connecting was because I was timid and learning the ropes. I didn't think about the fact that I was a young, white, middle class college student and to many students I didn't "get" them. I can also say this freely because as I got to know these students, many of them told me this information. It wasn't until I took the time to connect with them, which one day came in the form of me singing the Fresh Prince lyrics, or telling them that I'd lost my dad at a young age, that they realized they could trust me. At times this has nothing to do with race, but mostly the fact that many of my students had been let down by adults in their lives and now knew they had an adult who loved them and valued them.

This last year as a first year teacher was tough. Amidst me trying to figure out what I was doing, topics came up such as Ferguson, Eric Garner, and more. It's difficult to figure out where I'm crossing the line as an educator- are these things their parents intentionally don't want them to know about the world? But then I think that they're 13 and 14 and see more on social media than I ever thought possible. I remember reading an article about the impact of social media- we were discussing Michael Brown and how the media took to his Facebook immediately after the shooting and showed pictures of his underage drinking, but also how his family posted a picture of him in his cap and gown. Two very different pictures of the same young man. In order to put my toe in the water of these class discussions, I chose to focus on the social media presence of it rather than race (call it a cop- out, I was trying to get to know my students and see if I received parent back lash). However, obviously race came up, and I discussed it the best way I knew how. It all came home when a student raised her hand and said, "What's going on in Ferguson? I thought racism stopped when the Civil Rights Movement ended." I should note that this came from an African American student and that I currently teach in a more affluent area than during my student teaching. Many of my students are fortunate to not have personally experienced side effects of racism, which became evident when a student made a snarky comment to another student and I said, "Well aren't you the pot calling the kettle black?" and they told me that was a racist comment. This then spurred a discussion about what racism truly is.

Now, as I watch with sadness in my heart over the recent events in Charleston, I think of how I could make that a teachable moment. Events like these aren't going to end. I watch with sadness as people fight back and forth with each other on social media about white privilege and race. These events such as Ferguson, Eric Garner, Baltimore, and Charleston are crimes committed against humanity. We are all human, regardless of skin color. This hatred comes from generations of ignorance and the lack of evolving in ideals and morals. I had a student this year tell me I should apologize to him because my family owned slaves. I looked at him and told him that half of my family was still in Europe until the 1900s and hadn't yet immigrated to the US, and the others lived in the north. My aunt recently did an ancestry search and we were never slave owners (we executed Native Americans instead- note with irony). He told me it didn't matter and I was white and should apologize. That student also displayed ignorance in that comment because he was raised to believe that most white people were out to get him and that he was owed an apology from me and other whites. This student was an absolute pill and one I am glad is gone (he also announced to the class that I grew up poor because we didn't have internet prior to 1997, despite the fact that I told him NO ONE had the internet, but I digress). Ignorance isn't one-sided.

My hope as an educator is that I can have constructive conversations with my students because racism and privilege DO exist. My students and I discussed white privilege and I flat-out told them that some things came more easily to me because I was white and unfortunately that was the way things worked, but that we can change things. It starts with a refusal to be ignorant. The issue with many of my students is that they were never given the platform to ask questions about race without it getting hostile. We remain ignorant when questions aren't asked. Issues such as these involve intense emotions, but nothing will ever change or get accomplished if we refuse to listen to each other's concerns and ideas. I think we need to let Ferguson, Baltimore, Charleston, and countless other cities be examples of teachable moments. It's difficult because we will never know what really happened in any of these situations because human error exists- people lie, get confused, and make mistakes. It's hard to know the news when we have different perspectives coming from so many media outlets. We're doing an injustice to all of the people who fought in past generations when we refuse to listen to each other. My favorite line from Martin Luther King, Jr.'s "Letter From Birmingham Jail" is "Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere" (my emphasis added). I look at what's happening in America and can make a list of a hundred different teachable moments, but I'll never be able to reach each of my students, or all of the students in my school, for that matter. We all have demons; we all have baggage; we all are fighting battles no one knows about. If we could just take the time to sit down and have honest conversations with ourselves and others without getting hostile and defensive things might be different. I only hope and pray that by providing an environment such as that for my students, that maybe a spark with occur and some change can happen when they go throughout their daily lives.

But for now, I hope I can make this yet another teachable moment.

Motivational Monday 2 (On Sunday)

First of all, the love and support I received from my last post was wonderful! I'm posting this today because tomorrow is my birthday and I probably won't get around to posting on the day itself.

I'll be honest though, this last week wasn't super great in terms of weight loss. I can exercise, that really doesn't bother me. I'm enjoying running; however, I am somewhat doing  my own version of Couch 2 5K. The program recommends that you do the running intervals 3 times before advancing, but sometimes I find myself needing 4 or 5 times before my body really feels ready. I don't think there is any shame in listening to my body. I also really enjoy Cassey Ho from Blogilates.com. She is a pilates instructor but the exercises are always in quick circuits to keep your heart rate up, and she incorporates HIIT routines in as well. She is very bubbly and upbeat, which annoyed me at first, but when I'm ready to collapse her personality really does motivate me. I'm not strong enough to do 100% of the moves each video, but I don't let myself stop, and I figure that's half the battle. So, exercise isn't my problem...

Food is.

I'll start the day with great intentions and do really well until about 3pm and then binge. Like that Smartfood cheddar popcorn I ate this week, if I'm honest, or the fact that some of my friends and I went out for a few drinks on Friday to celebrate my early birthday. And the hibachi I ate last night to celebrate Mom's birthday. Oh, this is embarrassing, but it's life and I know many of you are struggling with it too. I used to not eat when I got anxious, and now I eat when I do. 

I've always been very open and honest about my anxiety, and since school has gotten out my social anxiety has hit a new high. I feel like no one wants to celebrate my birthday and people who are coming out to dinner with me are doing so out of obligation, not desire. I know that is a straight up LIE, because who would drive an hour one-way to see a friend if they didn't care about them? My prayer this summer is to see me as God sees me- loved, cherished, desired, forgiven, redeemed. 

Imagine my surprise when this morning upon walking in to church the sermon was about those words I just listed. Not only that, but our new series is called Renovate and this week's sermon was on Guilt. Next week is Anxiety. God answers prayers in all shapes and sizes. 

So back to today. I joined Weight Watchers in mid-April, and today was probably the first day I was 100% honest. I'm currently starving and having to train my body that just because I feel some sort of emotion does not mean that I have to eat. Today felt good to follow the plan. I created a visual reminder on my mirror in my bathroom with strips of paper labeled Day 1- 21. At the end of each day I will rip off the day if it was a good day (meaning I followed the plan and stayed positive). 

Although this week wasn't a great week, today was a good day. I've already looked at the restaurant's menu for tomorrow night and picked out what I'm going to get and calculated the points. I'm not going to use my birthday as an excuse to ruin my week because I feel like it. Mind over matter.

And with that, I will "see" you next Monday! What keeps you motivated?

Weight, body image, and motivational Monday.

I'll be honest- I've debated and prayed a LOT about this post, and it's the first non-teaching related one I've done in awhile. 

If you know me well or have followed this little blog for awhile, you know that I value vulnerability and honesty. I often think there were be fewer problems in this world if we all took down the masks we wear in front of others and on social media and were a little more honest with ourselves and each other. Please bear with me as I go through this. 

It's no secret that in the last 3 years I've gained a lot of weight. I used to be a dancer- dancing up to 15 hours per week between regular classes and long rehearsals on the weekends. I was in great shape, although at the time I thought I resembled a hippo. I look back on those pictures and think, "Oh my! I was SO tiny. I wonder what that 18 year old would say looking at herself 5 years later." I maintained that body for freshman year- probably because none of my friends had cars and we walked everywhere, worked out together, and ate (relatively) well. Plus, it helps that I didn't drink my freshman year so I didn't gain that particular set of the freshman 15. It started sophomore year and my first year as an RA/my first real job other than nannying. I used this excuse of a new life experience and being so much busier than I'd ever been with a job and a full class load. 

Then junior year came along, along with a gut-wrenching break up and food became a comfort. I ate my feelings, rather than dealing with them. 

Senior year brought the most stressful time of my college career. First semester I had classes from 8-4:45 on Mondays and Wednesdays and then my practicum experience which was over an hour away. I was also still an RA at the time. If working out and eating well ever fell by the wayside, it certainly did last year when I gained over 20 pounds. I look at it now, and I just have made excuse after excuse.

Now this first year of teaching and trying to figure out a budget and cooking and loan payments and what the heck am I doing as an adult? Luckily, I really only gained about 6 pounds this year, but I have yo-yo'd all year long. The real clincher came in March when I stepped on the scale and my weight started with a 2, rather than a 1. I'm actually sitting here in tears admitting that. Now, I could give a plethora of excuses- I have to be on birth control due to a possibility of Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome, I'm on an anti-anxiety medication- both things that contribute to weight gain. I've just survived my first year of teaching. I live in an area where our main source of hanging out and "doing things" on the weekends consists of going out to eat. Excuse. Excuse. Excuse. 

Let's be honest- I feel ashamed. Low. Fat. I think about how I used to prance around in a leotard and tights and be self-conscious about the fact that there was a little "pudge" where my tights met my skin, and my skin crawls. That poor 18 year old went through times of debating not eating, constantly comparing herself to others, etc. I don't have a very high amount of self confidence. I am very fortunate that I grew up in a home where I was told I was beautiful and my mother and grandmother always provided fresh fruits and vegetables (and made me eat them). One of my best friends is battling an eating disorder and she inspires me daily. My struggle with food is not nearly like hers is, but it leads me to a realization- we all fight a stupid battle with food.

Now, I could blame society and the fact that a double cheeseburger meal from McDonald's costs less than $5, but a salad costs at least $7. A bag of chips costs less than and feeds more than a bag of spinach. There are so many preservatives in our food that we can't pronounce what we eat. I'm a tall girl, so an "average" woman who is 5'6'' and weighs 135 lbs is not going to be me. I will weigh more. I will never be my high school weight because the minute I stopped dancing I got curves. But it's bigger than that. It starts with me and how I feel about myself.

Having a friend with an eating disorder has really opened my eyes to the fact that a number on the scale truly does not matter (obviously there are exceptions to that with two extremes). I had a doctor's appointment recently where I had blood work done. My doctor explained that you can be an overweight person and still be healthy- not everyone is going to be a size 4 or 6 (and I probably won't ever be those sizes again). My blood pressure is fine, my blood work is great, etc. But am I? No.

I am not OK with how I look right now and my pants size or scale number. But, more importantly, when I look in the mirror, I'm not happy with what is staring back at me. Yes, I get told I'm beautiful by people, but I want to look at the girl in the mirror and see that she's beautiful and not be ashamed to say so. 

Let's look at the reality. I'm in my early 20s. I should be in the best shape of my life. Yes, I have the responsibilities of bills and such, but I do not have a husband to take up time or children demanding or needing my time. I have time now to feel beautiful and be healthy. 

I've joined weight watchers and had a break through with my running today. (And, shockingly, I actually enjoy running these days). Here's another reality. It's hard. It requires discipline and determination, two things I don't want to have in my "summer mode" where I want to eat whatever I want and have a cocktail or two. 

I want to take this summer to transform not just my body and lifestyle, but the way I think about myself and look at myself. I have nieces and nephews who soak up everything I say and do. I'm the cool, young aunt (that's right, I said it) and I have these 7 kiddos who often mimic what I say and do. I also have students who look at what I say and do. I want to set the example that I can love who I am, and that includes my personality and body. 

I don't really know why I'm sharing this, but I feel God telling me I need to. At the end of the day, if the One who breathed life into my lungs and put me on this earth can see my beauty and worth, why can't I? This isn't truly my body, it's His- I only have it for my lifetime and then it will go away. 

Well, here's to my first motivational Monday. I hope to post each Monday with some motivation and (hopefully) break throughs.