Education Week - June 10, 2020 - 17

A Teacher's Letter to His Younger Self

You will dedicate your life, so no
other child will hear the same
story you once heard."

Photos courtesy of author

ear 18-year-old Trey,
I am writing to you because
this recent wave of police
brutality feels like it's a part
of a never-ending cycle of
tragedy. Black people have
been slaughtered for jogging
(Ahmaud Arbery), for being in their homes (Breonna Taylor), and for suspicion of forgery (George
Floyd). Black bodies continue to be lynched by
police who wear a badge to protect and serve. And,
yet, I see Americans and citizens from around the
world united in an effort to dismantle oppression. I
am skeptically hopeful.
What brings me hope are the protests and civil
unrest that have overrun the streets and reflect a moment of nationwide mourning, even as a worldwide
pandemic continues to take the lives of many. People
of all races have been marching in solidarity to confront the historical
and systematic opBy Lebon "Trey" D.
pression Black lives
James III
have endured.
As your adult
JAMES is a doctoral
self, I now face
student in the College
two battles: I must
of Education at the
advocate systemUniversity of Texas at
atic change to
Austin. Previously, he
served as a teacher,
show that positive
instructional coach,
celebrations of
and assistant principal
Black youths are
in Texas.
vital, but I must also
do the inner work to
heal from harmful
experiences caused by the education system.
And, so I want to talk about what's led me to this
moment.
But before I speak to you about the pain you suffered, the hurt you endured, and what you kept hidden deep inside, I want you to know that you will be
recognized and have a lot to be proud of as a Black
man. You will win Teacher of the Year from the
Texas Alliance of Black School Educators. You will
be accepted into a world-renowned, equity-driven
doctoral program at the University of Texas at Austin. And you will become a board member for Black
Outside, a nonprofit organization crafting outdoor
healing spaces for Black youths. Still, no accolade
and no opportunity could explain the trauma, pain,
and fear that led you here.
In 9th grade, you encountered your first damaging experience with police. After school, you and
a group of friends decided to explore the campus
of Texas Southern University, where your high
school, Middle College for Technology Careers, was
located. This was your first opportunity to explore a
college and see the beauty of its campus.
That beauty was short-lived. Before you knew
it, the blue and red lights flashed your way. Guns
aimed at your chest. Officers yelled at you to be still.
I remember you feeling hopeless and afraid because
your parents were not there to protect you. The officers forced you on the wall and checked your pockets. They said you were stealing computers. Your
friend tried to explain how impossible it was. All you
had was a cellphone. Still, the officer continued to
search and frisk young Black boys.
Cars passed, slowly watching Black boys in police
custody. You were embarrassed not knowing who
saw you, what they thought, or why this was the
experience you had to endure as a young Black boy.
Moments passed before another officer arrived.
He saw the look of fear on your face and knew what
happened was wrong. He emphasized that you and
your friends did not fit the suspects' descriptions
and told the other officers to release you. Still, you
went home that night, fearing what could have happened and cried yourself to sleep.

I am sorry that you did not get the protection you
deserved. A school is supposed to be a safe haven for
students, and police are supposed to protect you. You
should not have had to endure such pain and trauma,
especially on a college campus, as a young black boy.
Your grandfather made sure you knew you were
Black as soon as you knew how to walk. He would
say, "Always be aware of your surroundings" to
emphasize that the world is not safe, that you must
walk with caution. His past experiences were similar
to yours. He grew up in a time where Americans
lived by a "whites only" and "coloreds only" reality.
Your grandfather attended all-Black schools, and
the schools you attended were majority Black. He
told me that a teacher said he wouldn't be anything
growing up. I tell you this because his story continues to repeat itself, and I remember when that same
statement was said to you, as a young Black boy.
Months before your high school graduation,
several students were discussing their college acceptances. At least eight students, including you,
mentioned going to the University of Texas at Austin
that fall. Each of you recognized and honored your
accomplishments and upcoming transitions to your
classmates. Then, the history teacher told your
class of mostly Black children that you all would
be kicked out, expelled, or on academic probation
your first year. His deficit narrative and damaging
words scarred you. You were afraid to purchase UT
clothing and celebrate your acceptance because you
didn't want to fulfill his prophecy.
I wish that were an isolated incident.
But then a school police officer told you that you
would be nothing growing up because you were
"caught" leaving school early when you were actually participating in a school-work release program.
And then there was the time your principal turned
down an idea by you and your peers to create an
organization on campus for your male peers because
he thought it would look like it was gang-related.
You held tight to every negative experience you
had from kindergarten until you graduated from
high school. It helped you develop your navigational
capital-the ability to navigate oppressive institutions and spaces where you felt powerless.
The heartache you felt was not your responsibility.
Individuals were taught to behave that way. Fortunately, there is kindness and compassion in many.
Remember the positive people who stand by you
and support you. Celebrate your accomplishments
and know that you have much more to achieve. You
will become a teacher. You will become an assistant
principal. And you will dedicate your life, so no other
child will hear the same story you once heard and
feel hopeless. These feelings and experiences we
have helped me embrace care, love, and have compassion so that I can share that with all the students,
families, and communities I serve and protect.
Malcolm X, who shares your birthday, said more
than a half-century ago: "You can't separate peace
from freedom because no one can be at peace unless
he has his freedom." If civil unrest continues, then
we have yet to be free.
May this moment serve as a catalyst for lasting
change, from the ground up.
I love you,
Trey, at 31 years old

From top (clockwise): A young Trey (far right)
with his mother and his brother; Trey (left)
and his brother with their grandfather;
freshman drop-off day at UT; kindergarten
graduation.
From bottom: Trey at high school graduation
with his mother; college graduation
EDUCATION WEEK | June 10, 2020 | www.edweek.org/go/opinion | 17

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Education Week - June 10, 2020

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