by
Frank A. Jones
I
have taught in community colleges, high schools, treatment centers, churches,
and conferences across this nation. I have taught professionals and students
of all nationalities, races, ages, and backgrounds, male and female.
I teach the pupils who are set before
me. It is one of the things I do, and from testimonies, I am good at it.
There are many reasons I am good at it. Brilliance yes, but that is not
enough in the areas and among the clientele I am often given. Mastery
of the subject is a must, but seldom does one teach empty vessels eagerly
waiting to learn. Every teacher prays for that blessing, but the heavens
are closed on that one. A teacher
works with what is before him/her.
A
few weeks ago, I was chatting with a friend (a teacher) about a crop of
Black male students. It was a conversation I have had before and written
on before. Most of the time I teach the range of English courses. And
most community college students, Black and White, claim English as one
of their worst subjects. But for Black male students another dynamic is
at work, and it is that dynamic that my friend and I discussed.
America
has not been kind to young Black males, whether those males have realized
that unkindness or not. And many have not.
Black parents
generally tell their children that they can be anything they want to be
if they work hard and apply themselves. This is the Horatio Alger ethic
[myth?] usually given to all youths. But those parents who are new to
these shores do not question this concept in this land of equal opportunity.
Beside this Horatio Alger ethic, there is an ethos peculiar to Black parenting:
most Black parents teach their children the ABC's of relating to the police
departments of America and the institutions of this society. And those
ABC's are not the same as those taught by White parents to their children.
White parents teach their children that the police are their friends;
if they find themselves in an awkward situation or lost, call on the police.
For them this is a reality they can usually count on--most police are
White males.
Black
parents teach their male children to have as little contact with the police
as possible; if they are lost, go to another Black person and ask for
help. The police are the last persons you want to go to. And if the concept
is not spoken, it is implied: the police are hostile to your interests,
your well being, and your very life.
Along with those repeated admonitions to the Black male child, he is also warned that the very systems of society--public schools, social service, etc.--are hostile to him, do not care for him, do not respect him, and if he is to succeed in these institutions he must be twice as smart or twice as qualified as his White counter-part. These are some of the messages given to Black children, and Black male children are socialized with them throughout their lives. Therefore, they fortify themselves in preparation for adverse systems and people.
When a child moves beyond his family and friends, he realizes those precautions were no self-fulfilling prophecies; instead, what is at work is a hostile society. If he makes it to the college level he may have been mildly to severely traumatized throughout his early school years.
It
seems that regardless of how brilliant a Black male is, it is rare that
he will ever be commended for his brilliance. Such terms are inappropriate
for Black students by teachers, even many Black teachers are slow
to define and name brilliance among Black male students—it is an American
conditioning process. And that conditioning seems to be a deliberate institutional
effort to reduce the expectation level of Black brilliance.
This is the hostility of America to young Black males.
Many young Black males I have seen in my English courses are extremely relieved to see a black face instructing them; there are so few Black male [or female] English instructors in college. But after seeing my face, a unique apprehension sets in over them. It is a fear of failing. But that fear is for me to not fail or embarrass myself, which would also be to embarrass them. Of course, this fear is bred out of insecurity and their lack of intellectual confidence. They so desperately want that I not make a mistake, that I will be real, Black, and truly care about and for them. And there is also a fear that a Black male English professor will be gay or White attitudinally-leaning; certainly not strong and manly, as Black males are socialized into becoming--the warrior class.
They
have not experienced a caring environment and their hopes are raised at
the entrance of my Black comeliness: they want to know that my degrees
really betoken brilliance they can take pride in; that I have mastered
the material [and they hold their breaths needlessly]; that I can
withstand the attacks they know from their brief lives are an ever-present
probability in academia and America.
This
is the psychological matrix with which they come to college. And as a
result, they are fit for a fight; their attitudes and faces are not free
as their White classmates’. They behave as if they are the only ones outside
their comfort zones, not knowing that their White classmates are similarly
uncomfortable in this new environment of ideas. But because of their socialization
and usual lack of familial college experience to guide them, their guards
are up, they are armed, but for a different kind of fight.
These
young Black males know almost instinctively that the school system does
not care for them, other than for their strong bodies on football fields
or basketball courts to make the school look good athletically. So they
exhibit their fitness—their physical strength and their unsmiling faces.
But beneath those veneers are truly beautiful young men, if anyone took
time to see their beauty.
Instead,
those unsmiling faces and flexing muscles breed a certain apprehension
in many non-Black teachers, and the stereotypes about Black males being
dangerous are triggered. Hence they are dangerous, and even more, they
are un-teachable. Next, the dumb athlete stereotypes set in--they have
muscles everywhere except their brains. And when this total theoretical
template is internalized as an operating system by an instructor, there
is no expectation for these students, so there is no challenge tendered
to them. And since there are none of the educational challenges presented,
there is likewise no nurturing, no caring, and no educating of these strong
and vibrant Black males to their full intellectual excellence. Instead,
condescension is the order of the day.
Many
years ago, when the Ravenswood School District of East Palo Alto, CA,
was ready to abandon Black children, but not their tax money that supported
the District, Ms. Gertude Wilks said defiantly, "Our children
can learn!" Needless to say, she was right. But any educative
process requires challenge to the learner to exceed him/herself, and without
that challenge, there can be no growth.
Teaching
is not merely giving information and students receiving that information.
If it were that simple anyone could read a book, memorize information,
and teach. But teaching is an adventure, a process that takes place between
a student and instructor; it is a set of circumstances, a milieu that
takes hold of the mind and elevates a student to a higher level of idea
discovery, manipulation, processing, and appreciation. It is a type of
ethereal art on a canvass of the mind, and as a student paints, carves,
or performs in growth, an instructor too is elevated to new realms of
epiphanies and delight as he/she imbibes the beauty of truth unfolding
in the mind of a young, hungry spirit.
There
are few joys I recall experiencing beyond that of watching the natural
confusion associated with a student’s earnest attempt to grasp a concept
and shrug in a momentary impatience with his/her lack of understanding,
then I maneuver his/her mind and the material slightly to watch enlightenment
flood the face, after it has overtaken the mind. That is a rare joy that
rewards an instructor regardless of what level that instructor works at.
That beauty of learning is especially enjoyable when it is seen
in young Black males.
But first, they must be disarmed. They have been armed for social battle, for a nation that is indifferent to them, even openly hostile to them. If they are to learn, they must be disarmed by an instructor. And that act is not as difficult as it seems.
Teachers
know that teaching and learning take place in nurturing environments.
Those young Black faces are unsmiling because society has removed their
smiles—“Ain’t no angel gonna greet me. It’s just you and I, my friend.”(1)
They know no nurturing environment in these institutions, other than on
the fields or on the courts. There they know they can dominate; those
are fields that offer a modicum of fairness and comfort. And there they
exhibit their strength and brilliance. But that is just part of them;
why not provide that same comfort level inside the classroom and allow
these same strong young men to develop and excel to their full intellectual
brilliance? That is the other part of them.
They are so beautiful in their young, yet to be developed Black strength, but few see their beauty. Their strong, alive, restless energies call to the teacher in me to nurture and summon their minds to attention and discipline. Surely, if they can bring their bodies into physical subjection, they can transpose that same discipline to the mind. And they will, if they are summoned and nurtured correctly.
These young Black males want to know that someone cares for them; they want to know that someone believes they can achieve intellectually and that someone is willing to work with them and show them the path to enlightenment. What they ask is not something not already required and given to others. But sadly, these natural aspects of the learning environment are not given to them with the regularity others have needed and received them.
They have to be touched emotionally too. And such behavior is to disarm the young Black male. One need not be Black to disarm them. But it is easier and more understood by a Black teacher who sees their beauty.
Some
years ago, I was disarmed at City College of San Francisco by a White
professor of English. The language of brilliance had not been known or
bestowed upon me, as it was not accorded to many brilliant Black males.
But this instructor, Professor Brown, unwilling to allow the pollution
of an untoward society to blind him, scrawled on an assignment I had handed
to him the following words: “You are the most brilliant student I have
had the opportunity to teach. An instructor is fortunate to have such
a student.” I was simply
amazed, and these words blew my little fire into a flame: I determined
that I would leap over walls, burst through barricades and balustrades
(2) in search of my historical and contemporary
Black excellence and brilliance; I would realize my full intellectual
potential; I would be freed through a knowledge of truth. He had touched
me and disarmed me with the belief that there was something special within
and about me. And being disarmed, I realized
the cost of brilliance and quickly
tendered its fee.
If
our young Black males are to learn, and therefore develop their full potential,
they must be disarmed of the negativity that we have placed upon them;
that can be done with less effort than most imagine. They are young, beautiful,
restless lions, and their physical strength is their beauty. Don’t be
afraid of it, see their beauty, then nurture their brilliance.
2.) Harvest Moon, line from poem written by Rod McCuen
3.) Still I Rise, reference to poem written by Maya Angelou
