by Jennifer Roberts, founder of Conversations in the Community

I grew up in Prince George’s County, Maryland in the 80’s and 90’s.  I attended two predominantly Black elementary schools, a predominantly Black middle school and a predominantly Black high school.  While I was always exposed to people from different racial and cultural backgrounds, the people in my immediate and extended spheres of influence largely looked like me.  I saw representations of myself whether I was riding my bike in my neighborhood, at the babysitter’s house, at church, at the grocery store, at the bank or at school.  In fact, my mother, who is Black, was my middle school principal for one year.  As a child I didn’t understand the lifechanging impression that the repeated exposure to people who looked like me and intentionally supported me would have on my life.  But now, I get it and am eternally grateful.

I have fond memories of one teacher in particular, Ms. Lauretta Williams.  She was my freshman and junior English teacher.  Not only was she an excellent teacher with engaging lessons, she expected the best from all of her students and she helped us to achieve it.  She seemed to effortlessly build relationships with us and we loved and respected her.  She also had a great sense of personal style.  Her carefully chosen clothing and accessories were colorful, and regal and her hair was flawless.  She was a living, breathing representation of what we could become, and we had the privilege of sharing time and space with her daily.

My mother is the educational G.O.A.T.  Hands down, there is no one better.  When my mom told me that she was going to be my principal, I felt a mix of excitement and dread.  I was thrilled for her professionally but wished that she could have been selected to lead a school other than mine.  In hindsight, I am thankful that she was my principal because I got to watch excellence in action every day and that excellence oozed out of a woman who looked just like me.  I wasn’t privy to the details of her job, but I knew the character of my mother and the high standards that she had for the students and faculty alike.  I observed her interactions during the school day in the hallways and in classrooms making herself visible and available to the school community. I also watched her tireless dedication on weekends as she spent hours of her own time doing research and  paperwork at school while my siblings and I tried to occupy ourselves.  Little did I know just how much my mother’s example would influence my life and my perspective on education.

I could fill page after page with examples from my childhood of Black people who were part of my educational community that helped to shape the person that I have become.

By contrast to my experience, my two children attend predominantly White schools and are rarely in the company of educators or students who look like them or represent their racial and cultural experiences.  And they are not alone.  There are scores of other Black children having a similar experience at White schools across the United States.  While some Black parents accept isolation as the price to attend certain schools in certain neighborhoods, I do not. I believe that the isolation that some Black children experience in schools, and its results are too high a price to pay. 

In her recent memoir, Finding Me, Viola Davis talks very candidly about the isolation that she felt for most of her life as Black student in predominantly White schools, especially while attending, The Julliard School, a private performing arts conservatory in New York City. 

“It was arduous listening and watching white guest actors perform, white playwrights coming in to speak, white projects, white characters, a European approach to the work, speech, voice, movement.  Everyone was geared toward molding and shaping you into a perfect white actor.  The unspoken language was they set the standard.  That they’re better.  I’m a dark-skinned Black actress with a deep voice.  No matter how much I adhere to the training, when I walk out into the world I will be seen as a dark-skinned Black woman with a deep voice.  Hell, when I got out there in the world, I would be called for jobs based on …me.  I had to make peace with that.”

“Every year, I would try to squeeze myself into every project and every character.  I thought I had to.  Corsets and huge European wigs that never fit over my braids.  Listening to classmates “ooh” and “aah” over the beautiful costumes and imagining how awesome life would be back in the 1780’s.  I kept wanting to scream it.  “S#@&!  I’m different than you!!  If we went back to 1780, we couldn’t exist in the same world!  I’m not white!  The absolute shameful objective of this training was clear – make every aspect of your Blackness disappear.”

I’ve heard a Black parent say, “ Black kids must learn how to deal with life in settings that are predominantly White.  That’s real life.  That’s how it will be in the real world.”  While I think learning how to navigate any situation is a good life skill to have, I have a few suggestions that can help Black kids thrive in White schools and beyond.

Intentionally create support networks for Black students.  In one northern Virginia school of 2,526 students, roughly 253 of those students are Black according to 2021 data published by the county.  Schools like this should be intentional about connecting with these 253 students and their families during summer vacations as well as when school opens in the fall to start building relationships with them, helping them to connect with other families and working to best understand and meet the needs of each family.    A support network can help the administration and faculty identify student goals, interests and concerns and empower the student to access school and community resources that will help students thrive.

Increase the number of Black staff members and volunteers.  Schools should be intentional about recruiting, hiring and retaining qualified Black administrators, teachers, counselors, mental health professionals and other personnel.  It is important that Black students see themselves represented in their school communities especially when the school populations are majority White.  Not only can this help ease feelings of isolation;  it can help students feel represented.

Provide mentoring opportunities for Black students.  Mentoring can make a positive difference in the lives of students.  Providing ongoing mentoring opportunities for Black students by Black mentors can help students feel more connected to the school community because they have someone who is intentionally building a relationship with them and looking out for them and their best interests.  Having a mentor also gives students a trusted advocate in the building when questions and concerns arise.  For instance, if a Black student is the target of racial or cultural verbal violations such as name calling or racial profiling at school, he or she may feel more comfortable discussing the incident with another Black person.  Or if a student is having difficulty with an assignment, it could be that they are finding it challenging to connect to the material and a student may feel more comfortable sharing this with someone who looks like them.

Evaluate and adapt extra-curricular activities to make them more inclusive.  Many schools offer a variety of  extracurricular activities that are open to all students but what is often missing is cultural sensitivity to Black students.  For instance, if a school has a drama club that is open to all students, but the productions are largely or only European, Black students may feel like they don’t want to participate because they do not connect with the material.  The same is true of social activities like homecoming and prom.  If Black students are not proactively included in the decision-making processes for the themes and music, they are less likely to participate in and enjoy these events.  If their experience is not included, they are not going to connect and will continue to feel isolated and invisible.

Discipline Black students equitably.  It’s no secret that Black children, especially Black boys and young men are the recipients of more frequent and more harsh disciplinary actions. According to an article published last year by the American Psychological Association, “Black students are often subject to harsher discipline at school than white students, and those punishments can damage students’ perceptions of their school and negatively impact their academic success years later.”  Administrators and school personnel must ensure that discipline is appropriate and accurate for Black students.  This requires not only an understanding of school policies and their application but also effective communication, cultural fluency, sensitivity, oversight, and accountability. 

It is not enough for Black students to have access to a school building.  It  is imperative that educators work to understand, embrace and create equitable and inclusive school environments that reflect and represent the experiences of Black students.  It is essential to the development and preservation of the souls of Black children that parents, educators and community leaders prioritize helping them thrive in White schools.