This is not the story I wanted to tell.
My twin gave birth to her first son while I was in New Haven. I simultaneously rejoiced at his arrival and felt a deep heaviness thinking of the systemic barriers that face a beautiful brown boy such as himself.
Every prejudice and injustice felt as though it were a personal assault on my nephew. Implicit bias in our schools and courts had become overwhelming. The verdict in the Brown and Garner cases shook me to the core. This was not the story I wanted to tell.
Little guy with curious eyes and healthy lungs loves to read with Aunty. So. Much. Love. I wonder daily how to introduce him to the narrative of struggle that he inherited as a birthright. The story must be told, but how does one tell honestly of struggle (read=growing educational inequity for children of color) while narrating hope?
My silence on this blog is a result of not knowing how to answer that question. That and a few too many commitments last fall. I’m still working through the question of whether or not this is the right profession.
I don’t know the answer. It’s a question I’ll be asking as they year progresses. In the meantime, I’m inspired to hope. Cheers to living hope through the lens of teaching and writing.