Shortly after I wrapped up the lessons at the school a new semester began. I took time to prepare my course syllabus and get everything squared away to begin teaching the mathematics course I held so close to my heart. I knew I wanted to infuse many of my experiences from the summer into my work with pre-service teachers in our early childhood program, and to share some of my experiences candidly with the teachers at the school where I had done my lessons. These plans were briefly put on hold as I welcome another daughter into the world, but as soon as I was well, I returned to both classroom and school to continue this journey.
I was greeted on my first day back to the school site with both waves and hugs from those children I had spent the summer with. Andrea instantly asked me when we would be doing some math together, and even Leo recalled our time together.
“Can we do some more math games? I mean with the people and the bears?”
“Maybe another day, Leo.” I was pleased he had remembered our experiences from a little over a month ago, but felt a twinge of sadness that his recall seemed to be limited to using the manipulatives I had brought and playing games. Did he remember our conversations? Did
they remember the issues and concerns we were discussing together?
While my journey contained many ups and downs, I continue to believe that this work is important and that there is a need to share my story in hopes to reconceptualize the capabilities of young children. While I reflect on this experience and craft the final chapters of my
of social justice teaching. Looking back, I can see where I could have strengthened the lessons, but am still left questioning my place in doing this work as a white, middle class female. I continue to question if I addressed the needs of my children appropriately; did I get to know them well enough mathematically as well as learn about what they felt were important issues within their lives? What if I had used the game based approach sooner, would they have understood more about the social justice issues and been more apt to take an active stance?
I can remember back to my very first classes as a doctoral student. Sitting in coursework with other students who had at least one classes behind them, some of them being close to graduating. Sure, I had been the top of my cohort during both my undergrad and graduate
degrees, but this was a whole different ballgame. I mean, what did I know about doing research? I had my experience to draw upon, but these people were citing educational philosophers that I had never heard of, nor could I pronounce. I am a fraud. There is no way I can do this. It is
impossible. Balancing all this reading, which is taking hours since I need to look up almost every other word, with my new role as a PRT and a mom. How am I going to survive? I don't belong here.
Flash forward to the end of my coursework and qualifying exams. The same doubts set in as I read and reread the literature within my field. This was it. Surely my professors were going to now realize that I did not belong in doctoral studies. They were going to get the responses to my questions and either laugh or cry, coming to the stark realization that I had now wasted four years of their time. I shared my fears with my husband, who shrugged it off as nervous stress before exams, and with some friends closest to me who had undergone the same process. They reassured me these feelings were normal, that they had felt the same way. It gave me a sense of comfort I was not alone, but in the back of my mind I remembered. That was them- they had
passed exams and since graduated. Their place in academia had been proven. Mine was still under question. Surely this is the time. I am going to be revealed. I knew deep down I did not
belong here. Now everyone will know it too.
The sense of “I can do this work” came and went during planning and implementation, just as it did during my time as a doctoral student. Current events related to topics of race repeatedly made headlines and flashed across my phone as news alerts throughout the day. During the first planning session I struggled to figure out if and how I could address these current events happening in the country. These included two widely publicized police shootings of African American men and other shootings of police officers at protest rallies resulting from the initial causalities. Within my planning notes, I recorded
Tension with current events (police shootings of African
Americans, shooting of police at protests/rallies) and wanting to pull in this information but tentativeness due to working with families, children’s understanding (Reflective Journal Entry, July
10, 2016)
The next day following the implementation of day within my lesson plan, I wrote: I feel stuck as to what to do next. I want these lessons to go well
and it’s frustrating as I feel I am not focusing enough on content or social justice elements. Do I really know enough to be doing this? Am I capable? Are my own conceptions of issues and concerns within the community skewed because I am an older female with higher education and income? Maybe my own understanding of the mathematics capabilities of young learners are warped from
both my own experiences teaching and as a mom. I think that Chloe would be capable to these tasks and conversations but maybe I am wrong (this is another project to be done later….). Have I lost touch within being able to work with young children?
(Reflective Journal Entry, July 11, 2016)
Sheepishly, I ducked away from talking about these issues. Looking back, I was afraid. I still grappled with wanting to protect the children I was working with. I was afraid that families would pull their children from the study. How could I possibly complete my work with no children to work with? It was one thing to talk about what was occurring in the world with my own child; to watch the nightly and morning news and be able to help unpack the images she was seeing on the screen. It was a different story to talk about these things with somebody else’s child. What if they were trying to shield their children from this at home? Would they even want
me speaking about it? The dissonance I felt in addressing these issues continued to plague me. I certainly don't want the children to feel hopeless or scared about the world, but at the same time I don't believe I can shelter them. Where is the balance between protecting their innocence and developing their awareness? Who draws that line? Is it up to me to determine that as an
educator? Is it up to the families to express their desires to me? How could I accommodate the wishes of so many different families with different views? These questions rolled around in my
head as I continued to talk to my support network. It was finally my husband who offered advice to me in the form of a single question.
“What if you don’t talk about these things?” he asked, as I rambled on about my inner struggle over dinner at one of our favorite restaurants. I paused, contemplating his question in between bites. He can tell this is really bothering me. My husband has this weird way of being in
tune to my feelings and inner thinking around work, using this knowledge to talk me down when I am either stressed out or so stuck in thinking about something work or school related.
I continued to reflect on our conversation through the ride home, and in the coming days. The more I thought about the issues, the more I began to question myself in doing this work. I am a white, middle class woman. When I drive down the road, I don't stop to worry about being pulled over and possibly met with force. I don't worry that my husband will make it home from work safely, other than the looming threat of bumper to bumper traffic that might insight a minor accident. Reading the social media posts of some of my friends at the time, waves of emotion washed over me. Many of them expressed these fears. People whom I assumed would never have to experience these fears, wrote them in plain text. I can’t even relate to this. What business do I
have speaking about issues of social justice? I live a life that is privileged within the dominant norms and discourses of society.
These tensions continue to swirl around in my head even now after I have completed the lessons and move into writing and thinking about the next stage of my work in TMfSJ. Do I belong in the community of educators working to engage children in TMfSJ? I believe that I do, but recognize the need to continue my own professional development. A critical component of this work rests in reflecting on my own views and beliefs centered around issues of social justice, and I need to continue to explore where I come from, what I believe in.
CHAPTER NINE