Where All The Black Teachers At?

Education is a racist system’s kryptonite.

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Those of you of a certain age might remember the innovative, yet accessible, 70s children’s TV show Schoolhouse Rock. A brilliant and unparalleled foray into early childhood education. Not only was this groundbreaking animated series a creative triumph but it was also an authentic look into multicultural American life through a lens of learning.

Exploring fundamental subjects such as science, multiplication, history, grammar, and civics, each animated short through song and catchy themes was like having your very own “at-home” teacher coming through the screen.

Though my young brain gravitated more toward the visuals and musical hooks, subconsciously I was being pulled into a world of learning — a world that otherwise I had no use for. Each Saturday morning with cereal bowl in hand, I would perch myself in front of the TV and wait for my mind to be catapulted into the outer regions of wonder.

Through this seminal series learning became tolerable — at least to an eight-year-old.

A journey begins

The entire Schoolhouse Rock series inspired me, but one short in particular held me captive from the jump: Verb: That’s What’s Happening.

This segment was much more than three minutes of dissecting the boring subject of verbs, how to use them appropriately, or a general roadmap of proper grammar. I saw myself in the main character, a young Black kid building worlds in his mind and being the superhero in his own life.

This was me, or who I wanted to be.

Education is our passport to the future, for tomorrow belongs to the people who prepare for it today. — Malcolm X

Over time, I digested new and exciting content that put the power of learning into perspective. Not only was I able to relate and form a critical understanding of the subject matter, I also became interested in the artistic execution of the series. As a budding artist, this resonated with me on a fundamental level.

Kudos to the creative team of David McCall and Bob Dorough, who had a vision of putting music and art together to help educate children.

I’m here, where are you

Upon reflection, I wonder why traditional schooling never had the same effect on me as did a Saturday morning animated kids show. Perhaps it was my lack of attention at a young age, or maybe deep down I just couldn’t relate to a faculty that saw me differently from my classmates.

Growing up in an environment lacking diversity that was suburban Boston in the 70s and 80s, and often being treated as a castoff, or a purposefully forgotten “other,” one of the few superpowers I had at my disposal to combat such social ostracism was my imagination and eventual thirst for learning.

In my class specifically, there were three of us, and every day we would be reminded of this. If not by our classmates, then by an administration that was unwilling to provide appropriate support as it did for the (white) student body.

These were necessary tools that afforded me license to embrace my self-worth and see myself as more than how others’ saw me.

When you are one of a few Black kids in a community that only mirrors the majority, you disappear right quick and as a result, never receive the benefit of an equitable education that should be available to all.

Throughout my school career, there was never a moment that I thought my teachers could (or cared to) relate to me or what I was going through. Full stop. Frankly, I never felt they saw me — the real me.

I was one of only a handful of Black students in my school. In my class specifically, there were three of us, and every day we would be reminded of this. If not by our classmates, then by an administration that was unwilling to provide appropriate support as it did for the (white) student body.

Perhaps a typical experience for any kid of a marginalized group in a mostly white community, I did not have the advantage of true cultural representation. Since the school faculty reflected the town, and with a biased dare I say, “dangerous” curriculum that was devoid of a transparent chronicling of this country’s past, I never received an accurate account of American history.

This I learned on my own after leaving my high school years behind in the rearview mirror.

Reflecting back, I have few fond memories of my school years. It wasn’t until I attended college where the pool of educators (especially at music school) was more diverse and encouraged my mind to expand into areas of life I hadn’t previously been allowed to explore.

Being schooled

Why has the number of Black teachers nationwide decreased over the years?

To understand this, we must first look at the challenges Black teachers might face in deciding early on if a career in education is something they want to pursue.

Said Travis J. Bristol, faculty director of UC Berkeley’s Center for Research on Expanding Educational Opportunity, who has done extensive research on the topic; “We suspend and expel a disproportionate number of Black children. There is evidence, there’s research that if you are suspended and expelled, it decreases the likelihood that you then move on to pursue a higher education.”

These experiences can clearly snuff out any potential spark in a young mind that might want to explore an interest in education, and possibly a career in academia.

I do know the experience of walking into schools (especially elementary and middle schools) where Black students ask me with eagerness, “Are you a teacher here?” And, I recognize the disappointment that falls over those same faces when I shake my head, “no.” The longing for a teacher that “looks like them” is palpable. — Dr. Gloria Ladson-Billings, Professor Emerita University of Wisconsin-Madison

The research is there. We know that Black teachers in classrooms are not only vital for Black students but have a positive impact on all students. Increased self-esteem, improved test scores and a greater likelihood of graduation from college are the positive outcomes of having authentic qualified representation that can influence and inspire children; particularly in spaces that are historically reserved for the white community.

With a historical lack of professional support, challenges of socially biased curricula, and of course, a racially prejudiced landscape, we will continue to see the numbers of aspiring Black educators (specifically) decrease nationwide.

In “Disrespect, low pay, lack of support keep Black teachers out of the profession” by Diana Lambert; “Black teachers leave the profession because they don’t feel supported for what they are able to bring to the table in terms of their unique experiences, and they leave because of the fact that they are not seen as equal to their colleagues,” said Brenda Walker, Associated Chino Teachers (ACT) President.

And for those young and veteran Black educators who constantly face discrimination, unequal compensation, poor classroom conditions, and a lack of support from peers and administrations, often find it a challenge to continue offering their expertise and life experience to their students.

This should come as no surprise. Without opportunity or desire to foster an environment that allows for equitable support rather than targeted hostility or absence of empathy, we see the seeds of inequality being planted in new generations of future adults.

Is the field of academia attractive for young Black and Brown educators looking to begin a prosperous career?

With a historical lack of professional support, challenges of socially biased curricula, and of course, a racially prejudiced landscape, we will continue to see the numbers of aspiring Black educators (specifically) decrease nationwide.

Ultimately this negatively impacts students and keeps the balance of a diverse environment in education skewed.

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Representation empowers

Thinking about the lack of representation in education, especially for the Black community in the northeast, I often reflect on the effect Schoolhouse Rock had on me, not only on my education but how I developed as a young Black kid in a space that refrained from representing all kids.

We often hear that “representation matters.” In a country that is actively hell-bent on erasing Black and Brown history, and education in general, creating pathways for educators who can pave the way for underrepresented communities, it is crucial that we as a society, continue to fight for and support what is right (and just).

As a young kid, education was not something I ever prioritized. Not a shock as most kids tend to run screaming from the idea of school, certainly from teachers who they feel might represent an experience in which they have little interest.

Though my formative years I left locked in a box tucked away in a dark corner of my adult psyche, I consider myself a lifelong learner — someone who enjoys the pursuit of knowledge and is constantly on a mission to better myself and the world around me.

In many aspects of life, representation can be more than identifiable familiarity, it can ignite inner strength and a self-determination needed to unlock one’s individuality. Everyone should have an opportunity to explore learning from as broad a perspective as possible no matter who they are or what they aspire to be in life.

To deny this is to deny the future… and possibly the next superhero.

Thank you for reading!

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