[CLICK HERE to read this Blog on the Project ACHIEVE Webpage]
Introduction: War and Children
In an unanticipated, surprise attack on
Saturday, October 7th—exactly two weeks ago (although it seems
longer)—the Gaza Strip-controlling terrorist group Hamas tortured and slaughtered
over 1,400 infants, children, adolescents, adults, and elderly. . . injuring
over 2,200 others. . . and kidnapping and carrying over 200 more into Gaza. Innocents
from Israel, the Middle East, and across the globe.
Subsequent events have occurred these last
two weeks in Israel, Gaza, the West Bank, and in the border countries of
Lebanon, Syria, and Jordan.
And there has been a media and social media
blitz from all sides and across the world with information, disinformation,
propaganda, and attempts to defend or rationalize the Hamas attacks or, at
least, to change the subject and focus on the “next news cycle.”
While the Blog discussion below connects the
Hamas attacks to the importance of educating American school children regarding
the historical, political, and social meaning of related attacks that some
schools struggle with. . .
Please do not waver from the reality that
Hamas’ unspeakable and unimaginable atrocities were vile, inhumane, and indefensible.
_ _ _ _ _
On War:
It is easy to point fingers before, during, and after
a war. Often, the finger-pointing is how the war began. . . and sometimes, it
is why it continues, is renewed, or never seems to end.
War is absolute. It is either occurring, or it is not.
There is no such thing as “a small war.” And in the midst of war, the history
behind the war is often lost.
And yet, there are different kinds of war.
There are wars based on moral imperatives and
existential threats. There are wars against social, economic, or environmental conditions
that are not waged on humans per se, but on their behalf. And there are wars fought
against physical enemies—sometimes in lands far away.
But different than war: There is international and domestic terrorism that
occurs in the name of war.
Terrorism has no moral imperative. And terrorism
requires no authentication. Because terrorism occurs with disregard, depravity,
barbarism, and—tragically—murder.
_ _ _ _ _
Examples of war:
·The Civil War
·The War on Poverty
·World Wars I and II
·The War on Drugs
·The Korean and Viet Nam wars
·The war to combat climate change
Examples of terrorism:
·9/11
·The January 6th Insurrection at the Capitol
·Hamas’ torture and slaughter—once again, on
Saturday, October 7th—of over 1,400 infants, children, adolescents, adults, and
elderly. . . along with over 2,200 injured. . . and over 200 kidnapped into
Gaza.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Bringing Equity to
Discussions about Terrorism, Murder, History, and Justice
Today’s discussion will not take long.
When discussions get long, there is more for
dissenters to argue with.
Two weeks ago, on the day of the Hamas
attacks, I penned a Blog asserting that our attitudes, beliefs, and positive
and negative biases are influenced by our lived and unlived experiences. While
lived experiences unfold in planned and unplanned ways across our lifetimes,
our unlived experiences include (a) those experienced by others, but not by us;
and (b) those present in our lives, that we miss or choose to ignore.
Sharing an
autobiographical journey, the Blog described how my awareness and understanding
of Black history and “being Black in America” has evolved over the years—based
not just on who I am and where I’ve lived, but also based on the history I have
seen and the people with whom I have interacted.
Part of this
discussion juxtaposed the importance of remembering the Holocaust with Black
history and the past and present Civil Rights Movement.
The Blog concluded
that all students should learn and discuss the depth and breadth of Black
history. . . that no student should be denied this lived experience and
opportunity. With this learning, every student can more directly draw their own
understanding and conclusions regarding race, bias, equity, and reparations. .
. as they transition to adulthood.
Today, we add to
this previous discussion.
_ _ _ _ _
As with 9/11. . . and
the January 6th Insurrection. . . districts and schools across the country have
already received resource materials, lesson plans, and guidance on how to
discuss the Hamas terrorist attack. . . and the ensuing response from Israel,
the United States, and others.
No one has
questioned the need and importance of discussing these attacks.
No one has said,
“We must wait”. . . “This is not important”. . . “This is ‘fake news’ created
for political purposes”. . . “We do not want to make our school children
uncomfortable.”
No. We are all living—right
now—a shared moment in history.
For some, this will be a day in history that they will
always remember. . . Saturday, October 7, 2023. . . Israel’s 9/11. . . the 50th
anniversary of the Yom Kippur attacks on Israel from the Sinai Peninsula and the
Golan Heights by a coalition of Arab countries led by Egypt and Syria.
Yes. We are all
living—right now—a shared moment in history.
And it is our
responsibility to guide our students. . . from preschool through high school. .
. helping them to understand what they are seeing, what others are feeling,
what they are feeling, and what we all need to learn from this day.
We must do this in
developmentally sensitive ways. And we must do this in culturally sensitive
ways.
But we must do this
without equivocation.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
It’s Not All Right. . . It’s Not Alright
Unequivocally. . . October
7, 2023 was a terrorist attack on a sovereign country established partially as
a refuge for the European Jews who survived the Nazi attempt to exterminate every
Jew on the face of the Earth. (Six Million Jews were incinerated in the Nazi Death
Camps.)
October 7, 2023 was
a terrorist attack by an extremist organization (not country) formed and
committed to exterminating every Jew living in the sovereign State of Israel.
American students.
. . and the World. . . need to understand what they did. They decapitated
people. They burned people alive. They tortured and raped women and young
girls. They took the future. . . physically and—for the survivors—emotionally
from a country.
There is no
equivocation as to what they did. There can be no parsing or apologies for
their acts. We cannot speak in historical contexts. . . we must speak only with
historical clarity.
And if we speak
today with clarity, we must express—all of us—the same clarity when talking
about the Insurrection on the Capitol. . . and Black history and racial
prejudice.
There is no
difference between the Israelis slaughtered two weeks ago, those killed defending
the Capitol during the Insurrection, the victims and First Defenders killed at
the Twin Towers on 9/11, and the Black men, women, and children lynched by mobs,
for example, in the South.
They were all
innocently murdered.
None of this is all
right. And none of this is alright.
And right now, in
addition to Israel, parts of our country are not all right or alright. . .
_ _ _ _ _
While there are
hundreds of videos that I could share about the tragedy two weeks ago. . . and
hundreds of Facebook pictures and obituaries of Israeli youth killed or
abducted. . .
I end with two
videos and a prayer.
Video 1:
The first video is
New York City Mayor Eric Adams speaking on October 10th at a rally in the City
in support of Israel.
In case the
symbolism has been missed:
A Black brother
speaking at a rally supporting Israel and its Jewish population. . . The
sitting Mayor of the City where the Twin Towers once towered. . . A wise Leader
who both understands the Holocaust, and the moral imperative of delivering an
unequivocal message.
Video 2:
The second video is
a woman soldier from the Israel’s Defense Forces asking five personal questions
comparing her and our safety that we all need to hear.
_ _ _ _ _
And finally, a
prayer from the Jewish traditions adapted for this horrific event and
exceedingly sad time:
In the rising of the sun, and
in it's going down, we remember them.
From the moment we wake till we
fall asleep, all that we can do is remember them.
In the blowing of the wind
and the chill of winter, we remember them.
On the frigid days of winter
and the moments we breathe the cold air, we warm ourselves with their embrace
and remember them.
In the opening of buds and
the rebirth of spring, we remember them.
As the days grow longer and
the outside becomes warmer, we are more awake and we remember them.
_ _ _ _ _
May the memories of
the righteous whose lives were taken in Israel be a blessing. . . may they,
their families, their friends, the whole community of Israel, and the entire
world community find solace for our grief. . . and may we all say together,
“Never again” and Amen.
Howie
[CLICK HERE to read this Blog on the Project ACHIEVE Webpage]
A Personal Reflection on Why
Black Lives, History, and Education Matter
[CLICK HERE to read this Blog on the
Project ACHIEVE Webpage]
Dear
Colleagues,
Introduction
My Facebook feed
reminded me today that, last year at this time, I was attending my 50th High
School reunion.
While I do not feel
one year wiser, I have been reflecting this summer on the Supreme Court’s June
29th decision (Students for Fair Admissions v. Harvard University) to strike
down affirmative action-based college admission decisions. Declaring that race
cannot be a factor in these decisions, the Court has now forced colleges and
universities nationwide to find different ways to select a diverse,
multi-racial and multi-cultural matriculating class each year.
Critically, if you
remember or research the Supreme Court’s 1978 Regents of the University of
California v. Bakke decision—ruling that universities’ affirmative action
admission decisions were constitutional, but their racial quotas were not—you
will recognize that (a) this new Harvard University case has completed
what Bakke started; and (b) universities did successfully find
new ways to adapt to the decision and recruit diverse entering classes.
And while the
institutions that want a diverse study body—in 2024 and beyond—will again
adapt and succeed, the Students for Fair Admissions v. Harvard University
decision is yet another historical example of the centuries-long implicit and
explicit bias, prejudice, and legal oppression experienced by Black students
and the Black community.
Indeed, as Justice
Sonia Sotomayor, the Court’s first Latina, wrote in her dissent, (This decision)
“rolls back decades of precedent and momentous progress.”
But today, I want
to pass on an analysis of how the recent Supreme Court decision occurred, and
reflect on a more personal journey of Black unawareness to a greater (but,
still incomplete) beginning level of awareness.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
We are What We Live
“I did not get it.
And, I’m sorry.”
_ _ _ _ _
We all necessarily
live in an attention deficit world and state of awareness.
And our attitudes,
beliefs, and expectations are all influenced by our lived and “unlived” experiences,
and positive and negative biases.
There are two kinds
of unlived experiences. First are those that are experienced by others, but not
by us. If one person lives their entire life in New York City, and another in
Unalakleet, Alaska, they each live common, yet unique, experiences that the
other never has or would understand.
The second unlived
experiences are those that are present in our lives, but that we consciously or
subconsciously miss or choose to ignore.
In today's world
with hundreds of satellite TV channels, millions of pages of internet sites,
and a constant barrage of news, information, entertainment, and other bytes, we
all control our unlived experiences by being “attention deficit.”
That is, in order
to be productive, maintain our sanity, and sustain our ability to “live in the
moment,” we have to choose what we attend to—leaving parts of our lives
“unlived.”
But all of us have
another dimension of unlived experiences.
Those are the
experiences that are unique to when we “grew up”—the broad historical, social,
economic, technological, and other contexts present during our childhood,
adolescence, early adulthood, and so on.
These are the
contexts that continually influence us, our communities, our educational
system. . . all the way up to who is on our Supreme Court, how individual and
coalitions of Judges rule, and what decisions they collectively make.
And these are the
contexts that we must allow today’s preschool through high school students to
experience.
For when these
contexts, experiences, and opportunities—for example, through curriculum,
instruction, books, and discussion—are controlled, restricted, or denied, these
students have lost their potential to be fully educated and prepared to succeed
in their worlds.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
I am What I’ve Lived
“I did not get it. And, I’m sorry.”
_ _ _ _ _
I was born in
Boston, Massachusetts, and grew up in the suburbs about 20 miles due west of the
city. Our school district was integrated, multi-racial, and multi-cultural, but
White students and teachers were clearly in the majority.
While I was in High
School—fifty years ago—the Viet Nam War was escalating, Martin Luther King and
Bobby Kennedy were assassinated, Woodstock and the Antiwar Movement collided, the
Civil Rights Movement and racial unrest continued, and the Women’s Rights
Movement began.
At the time, I had
a number of Black friends, but I knew nothing of Black history—beyond what was
superficially taught in American History. Martin Luther King’s assassination
was briefly discussed in class, but not in the broader context of 400 years of
African-American denial of rights and oppression, slavery and Dred Scott,
lynchings and Jim Crow, segregation and red-lining, and Brown v. The Board
of Education and the Civil Rights Act of 1964, a decade later.
In fact, in my
ignorance, I remember wondering why there was a need for the emerging courses
in African-American history—even though I never questioned why there were
history courses in Ancient and Medieval History, Comparative Religion, and the
Depression and World War II.
And not to excuse
my ignorance. . . but when I graduated from High School in 1972, many of us
understood the world around us—as discussed above—through our lived and unlived
experiences, what we were taught in public school during the week and religious
school on the weekend, and what we read on our own. At that time, there were
four television stations, a morning and evening newspaper, and a large public
library which we used to complete research that was assigned at school.
Clearly: When I
“grew up,” we received a White, Eurocentric education. Culturally understanding
my Black friends and their history—from a Black perspective—was not on the
“agenda.”
Even when I went to
college, I did not learn about Black history or interact often with my Black
peers. While the opportunities were there at my small liberal arts college, we
were largely allowed to choose our own courses. . . and Black history was not typically
embedded in the science and psychology courses that I took.
In fact, during my
junior year abroad in England, I learned more about British, French, and
Italian history and art. . . and the Holocaust. . . than I learned about Black
history when I hitchhiked extensively around Europe.
And so. . .
relative to my awareness and understanding of Black history, and its depth,
breadth, and importance—even as I graduated from college. . .
“I did not get it.
And, I’m sorry.”
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Boston’s Battle
for Integration
Ironically, I went
to high school and college during an immensely important time for Black
students in my birth-town of Boston.
According to the Encyclopedia
of Boston from the Boston Research Center:
In 1965, the Massachusetts General Court passed
the Racial Imbalance Act, outlawing
segregation in public schools and defining segregated schools as those with a
student body comprised of more than fifty percent of a particular racial group.
Though 44 of Boston’s schools fell into this category, Boston School Committee
members refused to develop or implement plans to integrate the city’s schools.
In response, African-American parents began to
organize. They organized protests and boycotts, established “freedom schools” with more inclusive, often
Afro-centric curricula, and lobbied for access to better-equipped and
better-staffed schools in the suburbs. They established the Metropolitan Council for Educational Opportunity (METCO) in
1966, which enabled African-American students to travel to surrounding suburban
schools. African-American parents also partnered with the NAACP to compel the
Boston School Committee to integrate the city’s schools, filing a
lawsuit, Morgan v. Hennigan, against the committee in 1972 for its ongoing
refusal to comply with the state’s Racial Imbalance Act.
On June 21, 1974, Judge
Wendell Arthur Garrity Jr. found the Committee’s efforts to
preserve segregation unconstitutional. To address longstanding segregation,
Garrity required the system to desegregate its schools, busing white students
to black schools and black students to white schools across the city. Garrity’s
decision and his subsequent oversight of the busing plan provoked outrage among
many Bostonians. Garrity and his family were subjected to frequent death
threats and placed under round-the-clock protection for several years as a
result.
Critics of the decision also protested that busing
would accomplish little other than interracial violence. They argued that
moving students from one failing school to another didn’t address the system’s
larger failures, pointing to Garrity’s decision to bus students between the
poorly performing high schools in South Boston and Roxbury. Though Bostonians
often criticized busing on logistical or socioeconomic grounds, their
complaints were often motivated by thinly-veiled racism.
Protests erupted across the
city over the summer of 1974,
taking place around City Hall and in the areas of the city most affected by
busing. One prominent leader of these anti-busing protests was Louise Day Hicks, chairwoman of the Boston School
Committee, former member of the Massachusetts House of Representatives and
leader of an anti-busing group called Restore Our
Alienated Rights (ROAR). Comprised mainly of women, ROAR staged
protests, sit-ins, and prayer sessions, as well as violent protests, arguing
that Garrity and the state had usurped the custodial rights of parents. ROAR
also worked to intimidate black students, hurling racial epithets at
schoolchildren and burning a wooden school bus in effigy. In 1974, ROAR
organized a march of thousands on the Massachusetts State House in protest of
desegregation.
On September 12, 1974, the first day of school, many
students stayed home, some in protest, some for safety. Only 13 students from
South Boston High School appeared in Roxbury, and only 100 out of the 1300
students from Roxbury assigned to South Boston High School showed up. When black
students arrived in South Boston on buses escorted by motorcycle-mounted police
officers, protestors met the buses with eggs, bottles, and bricks. The
Massachusetts State Police and the Massachusetts National Guard had to be
called in to control the area. Throughout the year, violence flared on and
beyond school grounds. Bused children were jeered, menaced, and periodically
attacked; many students suffered from stress, fear, and illness as a result.
All told, 18,000 students were bused into other neighborhoods in the 1974-75
school year. More than 30,000 Boston Public Schools students left to attend
private and parochial schools.
I watched these events from my college perch in Maine and. . .
“I still did not get it. And, I’m sorry.”
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Starting to Get It
I went to Graduate
School in 1976 in Syracuse, New York.
While there, I
started to get it.
But there was no
turning point. . . no climactic moment. . . no thunder-and-lightning epiphany.
It simply started
with my practicum work in the inner city schools of Syracuse, and a continuing,
horrified recognition of the disparities between rich and poor, Black and White,
well-resourced schools and those “on the other side of the city” that were
dilapidated and forgotten.
While my sense of
social justice had always been nurtured by my religious and Jewish youth group upbringing,
by the Holocaust and my visits to Auschwitz and other Nazi death camps while in
college, and by the antisemitism that I periodically experienced. . . this
sense now included an urgency to understand the discrepancies that I saw in
Syracuse (and soon, in schools across the country).
And so, in order to
be an effective psychologist, educator, professional, and person, I have tried
to be a student of Black history and experience from my graduate school days
on.
And part of this
includes my advocacy that every student in this country learn about the full
depth of Black history as part of their understanding of American history.
And if some
students are uncomfortable confronting the facts of Black history. . . then
that is a good thing.
It is the same good
thing that explains why at least 20 states in our country require Holocaust
education in their schools.
It is the same good
thing that encouraged 60 House of Representative bipartisan co-sponsors and the
House Bipartisan Task Force for Combating Antisemitism to introduce the Holocaust
Education and Antisemitism Lessons (HEAL) Act on January 27, 2023.
This Bill, still
going through the early stages of the legislative process, will determine which
states and school district require and/or offer Holocaust education, identify
the standards and requirements framing this education, and analyze the
approaches used by schools to assess what students are learning.
The Press Release
announcing the filing of this Bill stated:
There is mounting evidence that knowledge about the
Holocaust is beginning to fade. A 2020 survey measuring Holocaust
awareness in the U.S. found that roughly two-thirds of those asked did not know
how many Jewish people died. The survey of Americans between 18 and 40 also
found that 48% could not name one concentration camp or ghetto.
Personally, I don’t know anything more
emotional than watching scenes from the Holocaust, or anything more troubling
than knowing that our President and Congress at the time restricted Jewish
immigration and did not immediately respond to documented reports of the death
camps.
Anne Frank was 15 years old when she died in
February 1945 in the Bergen-Belson concentration camp in northern Germany. She
would have been a high school junior.
Shouldn’t every high school junior in our
country today be taught about her, and how and why she died? Should they not
view and discuss video clips like the one below?
Will they potentially be upset and impacted
emotionally? (Yes)
But is this not the right thing to do?
_ _ _ _ _
And, similarly, should not high school
juniors not be taught about the full depth of Black history? And should they
not view and discuss video clips like the one below?
Will they potentially be upset and impacted
emotionally? (Yes)
But, once again, is this not the right thing
to do?
How can 60
Congressional Representatives agree to co-sponsor a Bill on the Holocaust and
antisemitism, and not support legislation that allows teachers across the
country to teach the full breadth and depth of Black History without
restriction?
“I’m still trying
to get it. And, I’m sorry.”
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
A Final Piece in Little Rock, Arkansas
For 18 years—up
until the beginning of this year—I lived in Little Rock, Arkansas. When driving
to my Arkansas Department of Education office for 13 years there, or to the
airport on a consulting trip for all 18 years, I always passed the exit to
Central High School. In fact, on a number of occasions, I attended meetings at
Central, a National Historic Site since 1998.
On September 4,
1957, the first day of school at Central High School in Little Rock, Arkansas
and three years after Brown v. the Board of Education, nine Black
students—Minnijean Brown, Terrance Roberts, Elizabeth Eckford, Ernest Green,
Thelma Mothershed, Melba Patillo, Gloria Ray, Jefferson Thomas, and Carlotta
Walls—attempted to enter the previously all-White school.
This was fully 17
years before the buses of Black students arrived at South Boston High School to
begin their (desegregated) school year.
Now known as the
Little Rock Nine, they were met on the stairs leading up to Central High
School’s ornate, yet intimidating, front doors by an angry White crowd, and
members of the Arkansas National Guard who were deployed by Governor Orval
Faubus to prevent them from going into the school.
Responding to
Faubus’ action, Thurgood Marshall—part of a team of NAACP lawyers—won a federal
district court injunction to prevent the Governor’s attempt to block the
students’ entry. And so, on September 23, 1957, protected by police escorts,
the Little Rock Nine entered Central High School through a side entrance and
began their classes. Significantly, they were protected by federal troops and
the Arkansas National Guard for the remainder of the school year.
Late last month, on
the 66th anniversary of their desegregation of Little Rock’s Central High
School, the same Little Rock Nine gathered at a press conference in Little Rock.
Criticizing legislation sponsored by new Governor Sarah Huckabee Sanders and
passed by the Arkansas Legislature in its Spring 2023 session, they decried
their State’s—and all States’—legislation restricting what can be taught in
public school classrooms.
Indeed, one of Governor
Huckabee Sanders’ first official acts after being sworn in on January was to
sign an Executive Order prohibiting indoctrination and critical race theory in
the State’s schools (even though there was no evidence that these were
present). The new March, 2023 law prohibits the teaching of “divisive concepts”
about racism and critical race theory, as well as classroom instruction on
gender identity and sexual orientation before the fifth grade.
Among those who
referenced this legislation at the 66th Little Rock Nine anniversary
celebration were:
Robin White, the Superintendent
of the Little Rock Central High School National Historic Society:
Each generation calls for agents of change. And in
their moment of courage and change, 66 years ago, the Little Rock Nine, ages ranged
from 14 to 17, (became those agents). So yesterday, today, and tomorrow, they
are our symbol of hope. They—without pause—paved the way for us, and we are the
benefactors of their sacrifices.
_ _ _ _ _
Jermall Wright, the
Superintendent of the Little Rock School District:
(It is) hard to imagine that nine brave young people
who were just teenagers, just like you, could cause such a seismic shift in
education that would impact generations worldwide.
Their cause was simple: equitable access to receive a
quality education. Sixty-six years later, our charge and our cause remains the
same.
_ _ _ _ _
Little Rock Mayor
Frank Scott Jr., who highlighted the sacrifices made by the Little Rock Nine
and their families, and then discussed how Black history in education was under
attack:
But yet there's still Elizabeth Eckford, who stood at
15, but yet some weeks ago, she stood at the age of 81 to ensure that the
Little Rock School District made certain that their history, American history,
was still taught to each of you.
And that is the type of fight, that is the type of
solidarity, that is the type of work ethic that we need to continue to have in
the Little Rock School District and the state of Arkansas: not allowing others
to revise our history.
_ _ _ _ _
Melba Pattillo
Beals, one of the Little Rock Nine, who told the high school students in attendance that there were three
things the Little Rock Nine wanted when they integrated their school: Voice, Choice
and Inclusion.
She assured the students:
I've got faith in you, baby. You're going to make it,
OK? You deserve to be whoever you think you are.
Beals compared
lawmakers' bans on critical race theory with the opposition to integrating
Central High School.
You did it once in 1957, and look what you got. We are
nine monsters just roaming forth. Have you ever in your life seen such
big-mouthed people? So do it again and see what you get out of it, OK?
_ _ _ _ _
And, finally, Minnijean
Brown-Trickey, another of the Little Rock Nine, who expressed her concern that
the history of the desegregation crisis isn't more extensively taught in the
United States. She noted that, when she visits other parts of the world, the
people there know more about this history than most young people in the United
States.
She noted:
It takes a half-page in your history books, if that,
but it's really a complex, amazing story about all components of government,
about courts, about persistence of the human spirit.
(I) believe the country grapples with a disease called
'profound intentional ignorance.' When we talk about things like that, it is an
intent to have an ill-informed population so that demagogues can do whatever
they want.
She said the
desegregation crisis hurts both Black and White students, and she encouraged
the audience to imagine what a story like theirs did to the city, and to the
country. Later, Brown-Trickey said that people need to look beyond Arkansas—that
the national effort to restrict curricula is having a chilling effect on
education, learning and thinking.
She warned:
(Young people) are going to get sick of this stuff. They're
going to get sick of being told they don't deserve to know. They're going to
get tired of being told they're too young to know. They're going to be tired to
have somebody decide whether they should feel guilty or not. And they're going
to rise up, and I'm waiting for that. I'm helping them in every possible way I
can.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Summary
This Blog has asserted
that our attitudes, beliefs, and expectations are all influenced by our lived
and unlived experiences. . . which often establish and anchor our positive and
negative biases.
While our lived
experiences unfold in both planned and unplanned ways across our lifetimes, we
discussed two kinds of unlived experiences: (a) those that are experienced by
others, but not by us; and (b) those that are present in our lives, but that we
consciously or subconsciously miss or choose to ignore.
But we also noted
that many of our experiences (and positive and negative biases) are
contextualized by when (i.e., in which decades) we “grew up.” This is because
every decade brings different historical, social, economic, technological, and
other events to our lives when we were children, adolescents, in early
adulthood, and so on.
Sharing an autobiographical
journey, this Blog described how my awareness and understanding of Black
history and “being Black in America” has evolved over the years—based not just
on who I am and where I’ve lived, but also based on the history I have seen and
the people with whom I have interacted.
Part of this
journey (and discussion) juxtaposes the Holocaust with Black history and the
Civil Rights Movement (right up to today—2023).
In the end, this
Blog advocates for today’s preschool through high school students—each and
every one of them across our country.
Learning the depth
and breadth of Black history should not be an unlived experience for these
students as they attend school.
No one—especially
for political purposes—should take away these students’ rights to this information,
knowledge, discussion, and understanding.
Living is made up
of thousands of emotional events. And History necessarily involves events that
evoke our emotions.
Students need to
experience these events and their emotions as part of their lived experiences,
and because we are mandated to educate them in the broadest ways possible.
This must be our
present. . . because these students are our future.
_ _ _ _ _
How have your lived
and unlived experiences, and the events during the decades of your life,
influenced your journey and current beliefs regarding these issues?
Will this Blog
encourage you to think (and, in some cases, rethink) your beliefs. . . changing
them or making them stronger?
Best,
Howie
[CLICK HERE to read this Blog on the Project ACHIEVE Webpage]
