When I tell adults where I go to high school- a minority dominated, low-income one- it too often begets an unnecessary amount of disbelief.
“And you’re surviving?!” They’ll gasp. “Oh, I’d never guess you go there from the way you… are!”
Usually I respond with a benign laugh and some attempt to deviate from the topic, but what I really want to say is, “Why wouldn’t I be? And why wouldn’t you?”
Everyone wants to speculate as to why urban high schools perform so poorly, but nobody wants to confront that we discount millions of children’s potential simply because they are unlucky enough to be poor or stereotyped as inadequate. Why shouldn’t an African American student be a math prodigy? Why can’t a Mexican immigrant be the one to cure cancer? Why can’t a low-income student become a successful entrepreneur? Why can’t urban students end world hunger, end war, be president? The answer is simple; we all know it.
Because we tell them they can’t.
While it is never explicitly stated, minority and low-income students are subliminally told that their chances of success and excellence are slim. We allocate the least qualified teachers to their schools, deny them access to upper level courses and emphasize vocational training as opposed to STEM programs and English intensives.
The negative stigmas that surround urban high schools are incredibly damaging- not only to students’ psyche, but also to the quality of education the students consequently receive. When word-of-mouth gets around that the local high school is “ghetto,” said high school gets a bad reputation in the eyes of potential teachers, which causes a teacher deficit, leading to lower test scores and grades. The vicious cycle continues: “bad” kids get bad grades, teachers become disillusioned with their job and quit, the bad reviews continue, and the students are inadvertently set up for failure. Even worse, racial gaps form: the “good” kids (read: white) receive the best teachers and opportunities available, while minority students struggle with both the stress of high school and the weight of racial stereotypes. The race gap widens with every teacher who gives up on their students.
I relent: there may be times when the horror stories come true. You may pick up on the stench of weed coming from the 3rd floor bathroom, and you might overhear a student talk about the gun they have at home that’s locked and loaded. You may witness a brutal fist fight in the cafeteria. Maybe one of your students was arrested over the weekend. And maybe this all happened at the elite Massachusetts boarding school you teach at. Every school has its problems- why not try to remedy the ones that go overlooked?
Objectively, it seems silly to cast aside someone as vulnerable as an adolescent exposed to malevolent activity, yet teachers continue to do so. Please do not discredit them. A stint in detention doesn’t kill brain cells or a passion for learning. They are still students. Extend your compassion, connect with and understand them. Catch them up with course material upon their return from juvie, try your best to accommodate the jobs they work to support their family. All you can know about your students is what you choose to learn about them. Don’t allow yourself to see them as two dimensional objects; they are multi-faceted, complex human beings.
Yes, some students are unreachable and don’t want to be taught, and it’s heartbreaking, but for every indifferent student there are ten more who can be saved from the criminal justice system, or an abusive home, or undiagnosed learning disabilities. “Bad” kids aren’t inherently bad, just as “good” kids can be just as deviant- if not worse- as the kids stuck in ISS rather than the classroom.
Urban students are given pennies and reprimanded for not producing dollars. If the future of America is going to be as diverse as we all so wish for it to be, high quality education cannot continue to be afforded to only the racially and financially privileged. And we especially cannot continue to associate “urban” with “troublesome.”
Teaching is hard; it requires an exceptional amount of passion and necessitates risk taking.
But if you love to teach, if you love your job, if you love your students and want to shape young minds, I implore you: go to our underachieving high schools and make a true difference. Andover Academy does not need another passionate English teacher, but the Bronx does. Low income North Carolinian schools do. Compton does. If you want to change the world, start with changing its perception of what it is to be urban.
And above all, know that students who are forced to enroll in home-ec when they want to take physics need someone to believe in them. They need to someone to understand and connect with them; they need you.
So. Dear teachers-in-training, teachers-at-heart, and current teachers:
America’s students need you. Please do not forget them.
