Education Week - May 6, 2015 - 26

COMMENTARY
Healing the Wounds of Racism, Old and New
By Robert Cook
O
n Jan. 24 of
this year, 57 elementary
and
middle school
students from
American
Horse School
on the Pine
Ridge Reservation in South Dakota
traveled more than 100 miles
to Rapid City, S.D., to watch a
minor-league hockey game at the
Rushmore Plaza Civic Center. You
can imagine the excitement these
students felt when they learned
they would attend the big game
in celebration of their academic
success and outstanding school
attendance. Though only a sports
match, this night would signify
months of hard work and commitment
in the classroom and motivate
each student to continue to
reach his or her full potential.
The excitement was shortlived,
as a result of an incident
that subsequently received a
fair amount of local and national
press. Toward the end of
the game, the students and their
chaperones, who included teachers
and parents, were verbally
harassed and bullied-their ears
fouled with racial slurs and their
clothes wet with beer thrown
on them from the vip box above.
With no security in sight and
fearing for their safety, the school
chaperones gathered the students
and left the arena. Within
an instant, their dream day became
a nightmare. The badge of
recognition they cherished was
tarnished by negativity. The exAt
an anti-racism demonstration Feb. 10 at the Rushmore Plaza Civic Center in Rapid City, S.D., protestors listen
to Native American speakers. Students from American Horse School on the Pine Ridge Reservation were
subjected to racial slurs and sprayed with beer at a minor-league hockey game at the center in January.
perience perpetuated their mistrust
and destroyed the pride and
excitement they had felt just a few
hours earlier.
I was appalled, hurt, and angry as
I saw the personal accounts of the
field trip come through on social
media that evening. To confirm the
details of the incident, I immediately
reached out to the school, tribal community,
and families as both a citizen
of the Oglala Lakota Tribe of the
Pine Ridge Indian Reservation and
the director of Teach For America's
Native Alliance Initiative.
Native people aren't alone in
being victims of racial slurs. Many
people suffer the perils of racism
and bigotry. But when an incident
or invective directly targets
kids, it has deeper implications.
It can impact their development,
the way they view the world, and
their own understanding of diversity
and equality.
I attended meetings with parents,
tribal council members, representatives
from the civic center
where the incident occurred, local
law enforcement, and the mayor of
Rapid City. This incident merged
the lines of my professional and
personal life. My niece was one of
the students who were subjected
to this inexcusable behavior. Several
Teach For America teachers
work at American Horse School.
Some had attended the game.
Personally, as a community
member and an uncle, I knew I
had to help the students, teachers,
and families who were affected.
Professionally, my colleagues and
I are deeply invested in supporting
the students and the community,
and committed to raising
awareness not only of this incident,
but also of the whole issue of
racial bias against Native people.
And in my roles at TfA and the
National Indian Education Association,
I have witnessed how both
organizations have done just that.
In this instance, they helped facilitate
discussions around injustice
and racism through community
meetings with students, parents,
tribal leaders, and Rapid City officials.
They increased awareness of
the incident through social media
and blog posts, and letters of support
to our students who attended
the hockey game. Collectively, we
have endeavored to elevate the
voices of the young people who left
the game in tears as they struggled
to understand what they had
done wrong.
In partnership, parents, educators,
and community members from
the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation
helped provide an outlet for the affected
students to process and discuss
their experience, in the hope
that it wouldn't have a long-term
impact on their self-esteem and determination
to succeed in the classroom.
Their peers from other schools
in the state also extended their support
at American Horse through
meetings and words of hope. Students
and community members developed
opportunities to discuss the
impact of the incident at forums and
during peaceful protests. The American
Horse School board filed complaints
with the Rapid City police
and the Pennington County state's
attorney. One man was charged
with disorderly conduct and faces
a hearing later this month and a
Why Don't We Just Say What We Mean?
By Levi Folly
G
rowing up, I was surrounded by language,
spoken and written. I listened attentively
as my great-grandmother and
other community elders told stories and
talked about their lives. In school, I loved
the "word of the week" challenge, and welcomed
opportunities to read and write.
During dinner, my parents discussed the
day's events, and the radio was a constant in the house and
in the car. Of course, with six children in the family, someone
was always talking.
My siblings and I checked out as many books as possible
when the mobile library came to our house each week. There
was an assortment of magazines in our home, a set of encyclopedias,
and my father purchased the Richmond Times-Dispatch
and the Richmond News Leader newspapers daily. I even
recall reading discarded library books that my father brought
home from the local college. Eventually, I would major in English
and teach for more than 20 years.
Looking back, I don't recall having an epiphany about the
power and use of words, but over time I came to appreciate
clear and precise language, something with which my profession
(education) struggles. I am well aware that professions
create language so practitioners can understand one another,
and I support the use of language that enhances communication
among educators, learners, and families. I am, however,
concerned about language that clouds meaning when we need
clarity, and language designed to market books and speakers
instead of communicate with precision on matters of substance.
I fear that the growing acceptance of such language in our field
may be impeding our ability to educate learners.
Several years ago, a popular department head opened a
meeting by asking small groups of us to share what was "happening
in our firehouse." My immediate reaction was to laugh.
This was not only because of the facial expressions I saw
around the table, but also because, just the day before, I had
attended a meeting where participants shared their frustrations
about the increasing use of jargon and buzzwords in the
department.
For some of us at the table that day, the meeting was over
before it began. "I don't work or live in a firehouse," one colleague
said, "so you guys can talk if you like." Another colleague
lashed out during a subsequent meeting over the use of similar
language. "Why do we have to talk like that?" he asked the
26 | EDUCATION WEEK | May 6, 2015 | www.edweek.org/go/commentary
meeting's leader. "Why don't we just say what we mean?"
These are valuable questions for any professional to ask,
because it is easy to become ensnared in language that
sounds important but says little. They are particularly valuable
questions for educators to ask, because the success of our
profession is dependent on clear communication. Too often
"
It is easy to become ensnared in
language that sounds important
but says little."
we borrow language without considering its appropriateness.
This was especially prevalent when many believed education
should be run like a business and terms such as "bluesky
thinking," "core values," "take-away," "best practices," and
others found their way into our lexicon. Equally troubling is
how we use academic language in practical settings, perhaps
to impress; how we quickly adopt the latest coined phrases,
Josh Morgan/Rapid City Journal/AP-File

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Education Week - May 6, 2015

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