from bell hooks’ 'feminism is for everybody'

If you didn’t know, this year marked my first year as a front-of-classroom teacher, also known as the HBIC, or the Head Baddie in Chaos. About a week before this year began, I wrote myself three vows. The second vow I wrote was “to remember the personhood of all children.” Remembering someone’s personhood means you are loyal to their whole self, their loves and dreams, their worldview, their picky nature with food. The entire being.

While skimming the Will to Change at The Wooden Shoe on South Street this weekend, this passage from bell hooks (one tyme 4her) convinced me to re-evaluate my dedication to my second vow.

Earlier, that morning, I took a group of my students to see the Emmett Till movie at the theater in Cherry Hill. Brandon Pickens, of Pickens Funeral Home here in Philly, took my students out to the theater in style, in a Mercedes sprinter van. They had the time of their lives. After the film, I asked Mr. Pickens if he could take us to Target so that I could pick up thank you cards for the children to sign, including one for him.

When we got to Target, I chose two students to come inside with me, despite the protestations of the others. Of course, they all spilled out of the van anyway as soon as Mr. Pickens opened the doors. I barked my orders for them to stay with one another, and to not ask me to buy them anything over two dollars. It didn’t matter. Their pockets were all but burning with the change they’d been given before leaving the house that morning. We chose the thank you cards, and several of them slipped away to the in-store Starbucks line as I skipped to the front of the self-check-out line.

Our conversation after I finished our purchase went something like this:

Me: “Do you really want to waste your money on those overpriced sugary drinks?”

Them: “Yes.”

Me: “Are you sure? You know rich people get rich by not spending their money.”

Them: “Yes.”

I huffed and puffed silently for what felt like an hour (real time, four to seven minutes), contemplating disaster scenarios in my mind; Mr. Pickens leaving us behind, arriving late back to the school and ticking parents off, losing a child in the store—with my precious, frail second-year-urban-teacher-from-the-country-can-they-tell? authority in question. I grew impatient and cross. Thechildren were wasting my time, and I told them so.

But as we stepped into the van, it was as though I came into my senses again. These were children. As adults, we become numb to the thrill of leaving the house, as we can do it whenever we want. Target is no longer a freedom, but an obligation. I don’t drink coffee, I’ve never liked the taste, but for many of us, Starbucks is an obligatory medicine, but for my students, children, it was a field trip. In my adult hissy fit, I failed to see the wonder of a trip to Starbucks through their eyes. In my eyes, we were at an overcrowded suburban Starbucks on a Saturday morning. In their eyes, however, they were breaking new ground, in the midst of an all-new experience, Starbucks on a Saturday morning, outside of the city, but beside their same friends.

While I do not believe that my behavior was abusive by any measure, reading this quote of the week reminded me of the role we all must play in acknowledging the personhood of each of the children entrusted to us. To register their complaints as valid. To communicate the purpose behind our authoritative decisions. To ground ourselves in the present with the children whose very presence alone beautifies us. I missed the opportunity to wait with them in line and see their faces light up as they received their drinks and delightfully groaned over the misspelling of their names.

If I am ever given the opportunity again, I won’t miss it.

On the way home, we belted out classics like “Can You Stand the Rain,” and Tevin Campbell’s “Can We Talk?” I’ll hold the memories forever, and I’m grateful I had the chance to tap back into the present and enjoy our ride back home.

"And that’s why I love children and learn so much from being around them. I realize that many of our world’s problems today — from the inner-city crime, to large scale wars and terrorism, and our overcrowded prisons — are a result of the fact that children have had their childhood stolen from them. The magic, the wonder, the mystery, and the innocence of a child’s heart, are the seeds creativity that will heal the world. I really believe that. What we need to learn from children isn’t childish. Being with them connects us to the deeper wisdom of life which is ever present, and only asks to be lived. They know the solutions that lie waiting to be recognized within our own hearts.”

-MJ