Monday, January 15, 2018

Big questions from little people

Sometimes, the biggest lessons don't come from me, the teacher. Sometimes, they come from my students. Those are my favorite lessons.

We've been studying Martin Luther King Jr. in my first grade class this past week. We've talked about rights and freedoms, bus boycotts, big words, segregation, dreams, marches, famous speeches and so much more. These are some big ideas for 6 and 7 year olds to comprehend. I always worry that when I am presenting these big topics to my students that I won't be able to accurately convey the message of these important historical figures. I want to teach my students that studying our Nation's history is one of the most valuable things we can do. I want to teach them that there are so many people, in our past, that can still speak to us today. However, it's my students that always somehow seem to teach me something.

This year, more than ever, it felt important to me to teach my students the value of standing up for what you believe in. I wanted to show them that the work Martin did could speak volumes in today's society. I prepared great read alouds. I found the best visual, hands-on activities on pinterest. I thought of the best writing prompt. All of that didn't matter. What mattered was the unplanned class discussion we had while reading a biography on Dr. King. My students asked BIG questions, they weren't afraid to offend anyone with their questions. They didn't censor the words they used. They weren't scared of being politically correct. They wanted to learn. They wanted to know why these things happened. They wanted to know what we should do next. They were inspiring. 

As I read about Dr. Kings life, I could see my students faces. They were deeply saddened when I read about food being thrown at black people as they ate. They were horrified that parents wouldn't let kids play together because they had different color skin. They were amazed at the bravery of people like Rosa Parks, Ruby Bridges and Martin Luther King. Three of my kids cried when they learned MLK was shot, on purpose. 

One little girl asked, "The man meant to shoot him? Martin was nice, why'd he shoot him?" 
Another asked, "Did the man know he had kids? His kids were probably sad." 
A raised hand inquired, "Why was the world so mean?" 

None of them were afraid to display the emotions they felt over these events. Watching them try to grasp the hatred that occurred was inspiring, they knew it was wrong. They knew and they weren't afraid to show it or talk about it. We should all be that upset. We should all want to talk about it. 

After reading, we discussed. We discussed how without the Civil Rights Movement and the work of Dr. King and many others, our classroom would not look like this today. We may not have been able to learn together, play together, or have any of the rights we have today.  

One of my boys raised his hand. I was hesitant to call on him. He's a wild one. He's rarely paying attention. He's the one who makes fart noises during silent reading. He's the kid that raises his hand in the middle of a read aloud to ask about lunch. He's the kid that raises his hand during math to ask who I would rather be - Batman or Superman? You know the kid. I called on him anyways.

" Mrs. Herbert - if we lived during the time Martin did, would you like me?" 

Wow. I sat there for a minute. Unsure of how to answer.
I thought about lying. Of quickly answering yes and moving on to the next raised hand. As I looked at the kids sitting in front of me I realized the hands had stopped wiggling, all 22 pairs of eyes were focused on me (this rarely ever happens). They were waiting for my answer, too. So, I answered honestly - in a 6 year old friendly version. 

"You know, I honestly don't know but I really hope I would have." I said. "I would hope my heart would be the same as it is today. But during that time many white people were taught, by their parents and grandparents, to not like black people. It was a sad time. But I would hope that I would still know the right things to do." 

The kids seemed to understand. Then another hand quickly shot up. "Mrs. Herbert... I'm glad your heart is good today." 

Me too, kid. Me too. 


I thought about this kids question long after reading time was over. I was making excuses for my past (not even real) self. Just because my past, hypothetical parents were racist, would that have made me the same way? Would I have been brave enough to stand up? We will never know, because luckily I was raised by parents who didn't believe that way, so I never had to make that choice. Yet, his question replayed in my mind all day -  Would I have liked him? Would I have judged him just based on the color of his skin. I felt sick, thinking that I could have been one of those people. One of those people that I just told 22 first graders were full of hatred. That could have been me. Would I have stood up for what I believed in? Am I standing up now? What am I doing to tell the world what I believe is right? Will there be something that I look back at 60 years from now and think, why didn't I do more? 

I'm glad I had parents who knew the importance of teaching history. They knew they wanted me to grow up looking at people for who they are inside and not just what they look like, sound like, who they worship or where they live. My parents knew they wanted me to be someone who could stand up for what I thought was right even if it was different from their thinking. I thank them for that. I can't pretend that I will ever know how Martin felt. I will never know what it was like to have food thrown at me because of the color of my skin and the fact that I was sitting in a place deemed unfit for me. I will never know. But I can tell our future generations about the injustices that occurred. I can help them understand the importance of standing up for what you believe in. I can talk about how hatred can seep into places and take hold of people's hearts. We can talk about how love and kindness is the only thing that can remove it. If we don't talk about history, if we don't ask the questions and seek out the answers - how will we ever learn from it? 

We need to be more like children. Don't be afraid to ask the tough questions.  Don't hide behind a screen. Talk about it, let the conversation become uncomfortable, make it awkward. It's okay. Don't be afraid to call on the 'wild child'. Listen. Do something. Tell others how you feel, even if it gets a little bit awkward. The world won't change unless we do something about it.
There is still work to be done.