Why teach about Black Lives Matter to preschoolers?

I am posed this question a lot.

Some have challenged me, saying that Black Lives Matter is inappropriate for preschoolers. When I begin to explain the work that I do, others have said - "oh, you are just watering it down. That's not Black Lives Matter. That's 'all lives matter.'"

Here's the thing:

What do we hope for high schoolers when they graduate, regarding mathematics? Don't we hope that they will be very strong in math, that they will be able to wrestle with concepts in algebra, trigonometry, calculus, and more? What about their literacy skills - aren't we hoping to create fervent readers? Aren't we hoping to create strong writers? Aren't we hoping that they can compose their thoughts into intelligible arguments, to be able to give bold speeches, to stand up for themselves, and to defend principles?

I do not ever speak of algebra or calculus in my preschool class. I do not ever speak about literary classics. However, I offer strong mathematical and literacy opportunities at the preschool level, laying the foundation for more challenging skills as they advance through their schooling.

Black Lives Matter can be treated similarly.

What are the skills that we want to foster in our young children so that they might be able to advocate for all? How do we lay the groundwork so that they are fortified to create a softer, kinder, inclusive world where all are supported and nurtured?

It is not okay to postpone or avoid this teaching. It begins now.

What about skin color?

Scene:
Two young children, preschoolers, playing in our dramatic play center, which is all about travel these days. We have created an airplane out of a large cardboard box and this has been great fun. The two children are playing "Frozen." (How many years now has this movie been such a hit theme for our little ones?) I'm hanging out nearby, trying to catch their words and play, curious about what is going on.

The White preschooler, holding a large, old, broken calculator, which is kind of like an iPad if you use a little imagination, asks, "What color hair do you want?"
I think she is running some sort of salon, just outside that plane - maybe in the airport?
The Black preschooler steps out of the airplane and says, "Blue."
The White preschooler asks, "What color hair do you want, Ms. Ingram?"
I say, "I like my gray hair. I don't want to change it."
She laughs and says, "You have to have blue or white."
I say, "Well, let's go white. I'm almost there already."
The White preschooler turns back to the Black preschooler and asks, "What color skin do you want?"
The Black preschooler says, "Brown."
The White preschooler says, "No, you can't have that skin color."
I get the creepiest sensation up my neck.

Oh my.
The week of Black Lives Matter Week of Action in Schools has just ended. We had a very good, strong week, sharing developmentally appropriate activities with preschoolers. One activity I did was a reprise of something we explored at the start of the school year, as we thought about "me, myself, and I" - a focus on skin color. This week, we compared our hands with one another, noticing all the different skin tones, and how beautiful each of us was, in our own skin. We made handprints using multicultural paints, matching our skin tones to the paint that was closest. We made a sweet poem with our words, simple lines of affirmation, "I Am in This Skin."

One of my fears,
as a somewhat inept teacher,
always learning,
making mistakes,
striving,
is that I will somehow teach children a partial truth that they will hold on to and use in some ugly way.
Certainly,
we have so many examples of this in the world today.
How do I know that they truly
GET
discussions of skin color?
How do I know that they will use these as a means of accepting all our beautiful differences and basking in this as a precious and wonderful thing?
How do I know they won't find ONLY a partial truth, and forever use skin color as a horrible tool, a bludgeon, of one being better than the other (as so many have done throughout time)?
Ugh.

To repeat...
The White preschooler turns back to the Black preschooler and asks, "What color skin do you want?"
The Black preschooler says, "Brown."
The White preschooler says, "No, you can't have that skin color."
I get the creepiest sensation up my neck.
I ask, "Wait - what?"
The White preschooler clarifies, "You can't have that skin color for Elsa."
All my fears jump out into my frontal cortex and I am in a heightened state of anxiety and I interrupt the play -
I say, "I am uncomfortable with this. Our skin colors come with us at our birth, they are so lovely and beautiful, each and every one. We don't get to change our skin colors. I don't like that you are asking this."
There.
Ha!
I am teaching the right way! Right?

The Black preschooler says, "Ms. Ingram, we are just playing!"
The White preschooler says, "Yeah, this is just a game!"

Oh my.

There I go again,
putting an adult lens on
children's play.

Ridiculous, I am.

Uncomfortable, I am.

Tuesday SOL: How's it going, two days in?

I am participating in the
Tuesday Slice of Life.
All participants are writing about one moment, one part of their day.

A big thank you to Two Writing Teachers for providing this unique opportunity

for teacher-writers to share and reflect.

Black Lives Matter Week of Action is underway! Just completed day two...I want to share a few extraordinary, beautiful moments...of which there are many. Let me begin with the "piece de resistance," our whole school banner - 

We worked on this fabulous banner throughout the school. Each floor of our school had one word, painted large on a 6 foot by 30inch piece of black banner paper - and each floor was expected to interact with their one word in developmentally appropriate ways. Everyone had special silver and gold Sharpie markers! The early childhood classrooms (PreK-3 through Kindergarten) worked on the word "Black," and we invited families to to work with their child at morning drop-off or evening pickup; some signed their names, others drew handprints, and some adults left special messages. Our questions were simple - What is Black? What is special about Black? What do we love about Black? Upstairs, on our elementary floor, students in grades 1-4 worked on the word "Lives," thinking about What do we need to live? What makes us feel alive? What is most important to life? Finally, on the third floor, our middle schoolers (5th grade through 8th) reflected on the word "Matter," and wrote messages in response to such questions as What matters to me? How will I matter? How do my actions matter? How do I make change that matters?

This afternoon, my colleague Monisha and I hung the three words together in our Commons, for everyone to see - creating the large vertical message Black Lives Matter.

It is breathtaking. I am so proud of our school!

Also hanging in our Commons are the 13 principles of the Black Lives Matter movement. Over the past several weeks, our middle schoolers prepared beautiful posters focusing on each of these. I am in awe of these students! They are our future.

Of course, preschoolers are not being immersed in these 13 principles...
my classroom has been both ordinary and wonderful these past two days.
As I said, we must be developmentally appropriate.
What have the preschoolers been up to?
Well, yesterday we created skin color handprints of our class community –
using multicultural paints, we worked with children to add their handprints
to a large circle of handprints. We asked, “Which color do you think most closely
matches your skin?” and preschoolers chose the paint that (s)he felt most closely
matched her/his skin, without correction by the teacher.

Skin color discussions are often fraught with tension for adults, something we would
never dare to speak about. Preschoolers are a refreshing change from this, so literal
and clear in their observations, noticing the variations and finding them to be simply
that, variations, nothing more – here are the children’s words:

I’m brown

I’m pink

I’m pinkish

I’m really light beige

I am red

I’m peach

I am brown

I’m tawny

I am silver

I am pink

I’m really light pink

I’m really light brown

It’s just peach

I’m pink, but I want purple

I’m a yellow pink

I am brown.

We've read two special books. Our first was Each Kindness by Jacquelyn Woodson, a story about a new girl coming to school and trying to make friends. This is a very long book for preschoolers and therefore, we began with a quick dramatization of the plot. Drama helps preschoolers get “into” a book, to feel it with their bodies. We had a lot of fun with this! As we acted out the plot, and reflected throughout –

What do we think new student is feeling?

What is her face telling us?
Think of things to say to a classmate when their face looks like that.

Have you ever been to a new school?

Have you ever been somewhere where kids were playing and you were not?

What did it feel like?

Is there anything the new student should say or do?

What are some kind and welcoming things we can say or do?

Then, we read the story…and it turns out, the children in the book were not
nearly as kind as our Big Cats. Jacqueline Woodson writes, “Each kindness makes
the world a better place.” She shared the metaphor of dropping a stone into water
and seeing the ripples it makes - each time you are kind, it sends ripples out
into the world.

Of course, then we had to get out a bowl of water and have the children
drop in pebbles, one by one…I asked the children, What is something kind
you have done, that ripples into the world?:

I play with my brother.

I share with somebody.

The kindness that I share.

I like the new friend.

Kind is being kind.

Play with friends.

Say hello to people when you go to school.

If you share, that’s nice.

Sharing is caring.

You can ask nicely.

I shared my toys with others.

I play with my brother a lot.

Mommy, she kiss me.

I love to hug with my Mommy and Daddy.

Share something with somebody.


The world is in good hands with these sweet preschoolers!

Today's special book was Beautiful Blackbird by Ashley Bryan.

Black is beautiful mural in process

This book led to a "black is beautiful" mural...the preschoolers love a process art project, especially one that involves glue! We have a white banner paper mural that students have painted with watercolors and oil pastels. Today, we began to cover it with all sorts of beautiful black materials, using glue – black construction paper, felt, sequins, pipe cleaners, tissue paper, fabric, pom poms...yes, a zillion different materials and textures for the children to explore. They are loving this!

Only two days in, we are off to an amazing start on our Black Lives Matter Week of Action.

Tuesday SOL: What if we talk about race?

I am participating in the
Tuesday Slice of Life.
All participants are writing about one moment, one part of their day.

A big thank you to Two Writing Teachers for providing this unique opportunity

for teacher-writers to share and reflect.

What happens when teachers talk about race with one another?

courage
respect
dialogue
grief
honesty
empathy
fear
tension and uncertainty
questions
a feeling of being ill-equipped
listening
patience
time and space
messiness
stamina
gentleness
love

An outpouring of so many feelings,
all at once.

Finding yourself in a mixed-up intersection of
what you know,
what you think you know,
what your gut says,
what you are ignorant about,
what your family taught you,
what you want to believe,
what you are surprised by,
what you need to learn,
what you hope for,
what you imagine.

Talking about race with my colleagues reminds me of the children's song "Going on a Bear Hunt" -

You can't go over it
You can't go under it
You can't go around it
Oh no
You have to go through it.

Looks like we have to go through it.

Tuesday SOL: Why should I care about Black Lives Matter?

I am participating in the
Tuesday Slice of Life.
All participants are writing about one moment, one part of their day.

A big thank you to Two Writing Teachers for providing this unique opportunity

for teacher-writers to share and reflect.

I've been busy working on something very exciting and thought I should share it here, in this space, and - just maybe - I'll excite another teacher to join the fun. The week of February 5-9, 2018, I am participating in the Black Lives Matter Week of Action: 

The goal of the Black Lives Matter Week of Action in Schools is to spark an ongoing movement of critical reflection and honest conversations in school communities for people of all ages to engage with critical issues of social justice. It is our duty as educators and community members to civically engage students and build their empathy, collaboration, and agency so they are able to thrive. Students must learn to examine, address, and grapple with issues of racism and discrimination that persist in their lives and communities.

Why should I, a white teacher, participate in and celebrate Black Lives Matter in my preschool classroom? It's very simple, really:

I want to give preschoolers a foundation of love and respect for all.

I want them to learn to listen and wonder about other perspectives.

I want them to believe in their personal power and purpose. 

I want my preschoolers to imagine a world without the distortion of systemic racism.

I want to do right by my students of color.

I believe in social justice.

I believe in teaching empathy.
I believe each of us is fearfully and wonderfully made (Psalm 139:14) - yes, each and every child, without exception.

I believe I can make positive change in our world. 

I care. 

I must act.
I am a teacher.


Our nation is so troubled. It feels to me like people of color are under attack. Can my students of color anticipate a life of true equality? A world where they will be treated fairly? I have to start somewhere. Black Lives Matter feels like an important step to take.

I have been hard at work on lesson plans for the week, ways to integrate anti-bias, empathy, and perspective-taking in my preschool classroom. Honestly, I already think a lot about this in my work with young children. It is not a huge paradigm shift for me. I'm focusing on read-alouds that celebrate Black families, Black communities, Black culture, Black excellence, and Black authors - thankfully these are really easy to find. I will surround us with Black music. We will explore the color Black in our art. We will talk about how to help one another feel welcome, how to show kindness, what is fairness.These are simple, ordinary, intentional steps in any preschool classroom and I believe they will also bear witness to Black Lives Matter.

I've said this before: childhood lays the blueprint for the rest of our lives...it creates our 'norm', what is ordinary for us. What if anti-bias was the norm? What if equity was ubiquitous? What if skin color was irrelevant? 

I can dream. I can act. I can start.

I am excited.

SOLSC #20 What if we take one step closer?

During the month of March, I am participating in
the Slice of Life Story Challenge.
All participants are writing about one moment, one part of their day, every day for thirty-one days. My slices will be primarily about teaching preschoolers.

Check out the Two Writing Teachers website for many more reflections on teaching.

He appeared out of nowhere in the hallway with several of his middle-school classmates, on his way to class. She, the mom, had just dropped off her sweet little guy at my preschool classroom, to start his day. As she passed by, his shoulder knocked against hers, and then he fell to the floor - much to the merriment of his classmates. Mom was a little surprised, asked if he was okay, he nodded yes in the midst of the laughter, and everyone went on their way.

The next morning, as Mom left my classroom after kissing her little guy goodbye, there he appeared again, tall, imposing, mischievous, surrounded by his middle-school friends. As Mom headed down the hall, he jabbed his shoulder into her shoulder, all the while sporting a big grin, and he threw himself down onto the floor, accompanied by more laughter from his friends. Mom hurried out of the school, on her way to work, but, unlike the day before, an uneasy feeling lingered. Was he doing this on purpose? Why this interaction two days in a row? After some thought, she contacted our principal, to share her concerns.

She didn't know his name. She could only provide a physical description.

The first I heard about any of the above was when the sixth grade boy was brought to my classroom by the principal mid-day, while the preschoolers were napping. The principal asked me if I had a little boy named Mark in my class. Yes, I do. Then she introduced John to me, the middle-schooler, and asked him to tell me why he was here. "I bumped into Mark's mother today and yesterday," he said in a quiet, uneven, chagrined voice. The principal continued, "John has written a note of apology. I think it is very important for him to meet Mark's Mom in person, to deliver the apology. What time does she pick up Mark?" And so it was agreed that John would return to apologize in person that afternoon, and give the note of apology.

Oh these foolish, young boys. There is nothing more important than making your classmates laugh.

The end of the day arrived, preschoolers were being dismissed to their families, and John appeared as planned. I introduced him to little Mark, saying "You'll be apologizing to this little guy's Mom." John was visibly contrite, looking a little nervous about what was yet to come. Into the classroom walks Mark's Mom and she sees John and me and her eyes grow wide. They step out into the hallway and John says his apology and gives her the note, and then he scoots away. Mark's Mom comes over to me, and whispers "How did he know to come here? I didn't want him to know who my child was. I have to tell you I am very scared of him. He said a very nice apology, but he did that mean shoving two days in a row. I think I'm being stalked. I spoke to the principal because I am scared."

I was caught off-guard by this and simply patted her arm, assuringly, saying, "It's okay. He feels very badly about what he did." Mom and Mark went on their way.

However, I couldn't shake the taste of this interaction, her words to me. I wondered,

Does it matter that this middle-schooler is Black?
Does it matter that this Mom is White?
How are we to be in community together - diverse people, diverse ages, preschool, elementary, middle school?
What does it mean for our community if adults are afraid of certain students?
How do we move towards one another?

I am the mother of three boys and any one of them could have done what John did when they were in middle-school. They did many, many foolish things. My boys are White. Did they get a free pass for silly, immature antics at this age?

After several days of wondering and wrestling with this, I followed Mark's Mom out of the classroom after drop-off and opened up the conversation again. "Hey, I was just wondering, have you seen John again since his apology?"

"No, actually, I haven't. Isn't that weird?"

"Well, I hope you do see him soon. I think it would be great if you gave him a big hello and called him by name. 11 and 12 year old boys are so foolish sometimes; my own boys embarrassed me greatly at that age."

And I left it at that.

Maybe a little preachy on my part...but, I wonder. How do we move towards one another? What if we dare to take one step closer?

Are my students visible?

This is a Tuesday Slice of Life for Two Writing Teachers. 

Check out their website for many more reflections on teaching.


______________________________

The power of visibility can never be underestimated.
- Margaret Cho

When browsing in the children's section at my local library this past spring, I found a beautiful picture book on display  - Max and the Tag-Along Moon by Floyd Cooper. I checked it out, knowing my preschoolers would love the heartwarming story of a boy riding in his family car, only to find the moon following him. At the end of the read-aloud, one preschooler lingered at my knee, studying the beautiful illustrations.

I said affectionately,
"Do you think Max loves the moon as much as you do?"
and he replied,
"Yes, he does, but, see, he is brown and I am not."
"Yes, you are right, you noticed his skin color...you and he are different, you and he are the same."

Preschoolers notice details. There was no malice or bias in his words. I love that this little boy studied the illustrations so closely. And what a testament to Floyd Cooper's extraordinary artwork - so realistic, so life-like, so gorgeous.

In reflection of our conversation, I started thinking about my picture book library. I have an extensive collection, gathered through the years, since my own (now adult) children were little. The reality is, the majority of my picture books feature white characters. What must this be like, day in, day out, at my read-alouds, for my students of color?  Children should see themselves in the stories we share.

I do not want it to be a rare experience for children of color to see themselves reflected in positive ways in the world around us.

I decided to spend some time this summer adding more diversity to my existing picture book collection. My summer goal has been to find more books about ordinary moments, ordinary situations, embellishing all the topics that young children love, but with black, brown, diverse faces in the illustrations.

What if it was the norm for me to read books that featured people of color? 

I have unleashed my inner "teacher nerd" this summer!

I have spent time on the web,
chasing down book lists,
reading through blogposts,
searching through articles,
reviewing award winners,
looking up various topics,
on and on,
scanning for books.

The other day, armed with an Excel spreadsheet with the list of possibilities (see, I told you I am a "teacher nerd"), I wandered over to my local library and searched through the stacks, to see if I could find any of them. What a fun afternoon I had! It was so delightful to have endless time to browse, not driven by any particular curriculum deadline, simply to savor children's books. I found a great many of the books on my list, and I spent time reading them, considering their appropriateness for my preschoolers, and imagining how I might fit them into read-alouds throughout the year.

Of course, I didn't find every single book - I have many that I still want to track down. The list itself is a living thing - I keep adding books to it, whenever I find new ones. My initial research has focused primarily on finding picture books featuring black characters...clearly, I have a long way to go before I can consider my book list truly diverse. But, wow, there are so many amazing books out there!

Let me whet your appetite, too...check out picture books by Angela Johnson, Anna McQuinn, bell hooks, Brian Pinkney, Eloise Greenfield, Ezra Jack Keats, Floyd Cooper, Jacqueline Woodson, Kadir Nelson, Mary Hoffman, Patricia McKissack, Yuri Morales. (This is by no means a complete list, but I had multiple great finds for each of these authors.)

Here's to a few more days of summer exploration and a new school year filled with reading new books!

Tuesday SOL: Three poems about four girls

This is a Tuesday Slice of Life for Two Writing Teachers. 

Check out their website for many more reflections on teaching.

My apologies - this post is not about teaching preschool...
in fact, it is radically different. 
Summer provides me time for reflection and creativity.

I'm daring to share some poetry that arose from my personal research and reflection about the four young black girls who were killed in a churching bombing by klansmen in Birmingham, Alabama in the 1960s.

 "I am just slowly awakening to the privilege of my own life experiences." 
Elissa Johnk


Until recently, I knew very little or nothing about these four young girls.

What were their names?

When did it happen?

How old were they? (How old was I?) (How old would they be now?)

What can I learn about their hopes and dreams?

Why did it happen?

How did their loved ones recover? Did they recover?

Why don't I know more?
Were they invisible to me because they are black and I am white?

Was I taught about them and I forgot?

Or was I never taught?

I don't have answers to all these questions yet, and I have many more questions the more I learn. These poems grew out of my reading/research about this horrific crime. 

Three Poems About Four Girls

The Calculated Crime*

Sunday,

September 15, 1963,

10:22 am,

16^th street Baptist Church,

some 450 parishioners gathered,

Birmingham, Alabama.

5 days after

3 all-white schools desegregated,

Birmingham, Alabama.

21 bombings

in 8 years;

1st that killed,

Birmingham, Alabama.

4 white klansmen,

15 sticks of dynamite,

20 black children injured,

4 black girls killed,

Birmingham, Alabama.

Addie Mae Collins, 14 years old

Denise McNair, 11 years old

Carole Robertson, 14 years old

Cynthia Wesley, 14 years old

Birmingham, Alabama.

[*Note - title of this poem was inspired by a reflection by Condoleeza Rice, at the 50th anniversary of the bombing; Condoleeza Rice was 8 years old at the time of the bombing and a classmate of Denise McNair. Here are her words: 

“The crime was calculated, not random. It was meant to suck the hope out of young lives, bury their aspirations, and ensure that old fears would be propelled forward into the next generation.” ]

-----

Wonder

Shredded,

strewn about,

shattered,

destroyed,

brightly painted children’s furniture,

bibles and song books ,

rear wall of church,

the back steps, and

all stained-glass windows,

except one,“Christ with the Little Children;”

this window was intact,

with only Jesus’ face missing.

-----

Hopes and Dreams

Addie Mae, Denise, Carole, and Cynthia.

September 15, 1963,

a new school year just beginning.

Four young girls, 

imagining, dreaming, hoping, and seeking.

Desiring college and careers?

Imagining love, hope, and peace?

Four young lives abruptly ended,

Addie Mae, Denise, Carole, and Cynthia.

Addie Mae Collins, 14,

An avid learner,

loved to draw,

imagined herself an artist,

strong and athletic,

with a powerful softball pitch,

an entrepreneur,

sold her mom’s potholders and aprons door-to-door,

her family loved her as a peacemaker,

solving conflicts amongst her seven siblings.

Denise McNair, 11,

an only child,

with a ready smile, and

a big heart for others,

she organized fundraisers for muscular dystrophy, and

an annual neighborhood talent show,

with skits, dance routines, poetry,

she was inquisitive,

stood up for others, and

wanted to be a pediatrician.

Carole Robertson, 14,

an “A” student,

an avid reader,

with many extra-curricular activities,

ballet, clarinet in the marching band, girl scouts, choir,

loved listening to rock and roll on the radio,

wanted to teach history,

she loved to let friends practice hairstyles on her,

she was a good listener, a mediator,

thoughtful, reflective, a good friend.

Cynthia Wesley, 14,

a strong student,

excelled in math and reading,

loved music and played clarinet,

she was much loved by two families,

informally adopted and treasured as an only child to educators,

visiting her birth home on weekends as a big sister,

she shows us it takes a village,

we need one another,

we are all connected.

Four young girls,

gifts and passions,

hopes and dreams,
instantaneously,
irrevocably,
shattered,

Wait!
Who were their best friends?
What did they want to know more about?
What were their favorite books?
What did they like to do when they got home from school?
What did they think about as they went to sleep at night?
What were their worries?
How were they hoping to change the world?

Four young girls,

gifts and passions,

hopes and dreams,
instantaneously,
irrevocably,

shattered,

tragically,
violently,
despicably.
Addie Mae, Denise, Carole, and Cynthia.