One Year Later

Last year, on January 6, an attack was made on the Capitol building. I was wrapping up a day of virtual instruction when the news broke. I was grateful to be done with school for the day because I was having such a hard time processing what was unfolding. I would be seeing students in person the next day and was also concerned with how to proceed. Some educators taught through it while others didn't -- some because they didn't want to add to the trauma others were feeling, some because they were unable or unwilling to acknowledge the magnitude of what had occurred.

I chose a middle ground for my classes. I created an anonymous forum for questions, comments, and concerns. Participation was completely voluntary, but most students chose to share something. In those posts I saw fear, confusion, and disbelief. One student admitted to being a supporter of the then-president and said they felt as if they were guilty by association (although not by the rest of the class, which was a point of pride that our space truly felt safe). It also didn't take long for students to question why the rioters faced considerably less resistance while entering the Capitol building compared to the strong response faced by Black Live Matters protesters not long before -- often before thoe protests even began. Some students outright named the racism they saw in the difference.

I was proud of the respectful but powerful discussions we had that day. However, I look back now and wonder how I would have reacted to that day if Little Man was already in my life. I had to really think hard about my memory of that time, and I truly think I didn't even consider the possibility of being a mother -- let alone the mother of a Black child -- in that moment. My response was as an educator and a human; there is no shame in that.  While I fervently hope nothing like this ever happens again, I have to be prepared to work through something like this with my son...without simply treating him like my student. Then again, perhaps I would owe my students a bit more than what I gave a year ago. Maybe Little Man would need a way to process that leaves me as nothing more than a teacher, since I can forever empathize but never truly understand.

The fact that this unfortunate anniversary falls between the joy of Kwanzaa and the reverence of Martin Luther King, Jr. Day and Black History Month is not lost on me -- it's coincidental, but it also seems relevant. I once was honored to attend a speech by Jelani Memory, author of "A Kids Book About Racism", and he said something that has totally reframed my thinking. To paraphrase, he pointed out that Black history is taught as the continual rise against adversity; Black children receive the message that to succeed is to have to overcome. There is no real mention of Black achievement or Black joy in the simple context of celebration.

Perhaps this dark day in history needs to be overshadowed by the celebration that comes before and after. I want Little Man to know that days like January 6 in his history should be the exception and not the rule. He can make his mark in the world because of who he is, not in spite of who he is. I look forward to surrounding him with the inspiration of the elders who came before and the generation he will help lead.