by Robert Kim
Reviewed December 6, 2023
I turned slowly, a tiny ballerina in a tarnished music box, frozen by the confrontation of my next step. I was looking for something that would help me know what to do.
You see, the longer I teach, the more complicated and difficult this job gets. Most of the time, I just try to keep my head down.
Scratch that. Most of the time, I bury my head in the sand. I purposely avoid social media because reading how some people talk about educators makes me physically ill. I have no daily news habit because reading the dramatized headlines causes adrenaline to pour into my veins, and my heart will race just thinking about the implications of world news on my tiny universe. But, recently, I just can’t bury my head like I used to.
Maybe it’s age. I finally turned 40, so there’s some part of me that finally feels like I know what I’m doing. (At least, somewhat!)
Maybe it’s that I’ve just been pushed around too many times and I’ve had enough.
Maybe it’s that I got a tiny taste of what it’s like to actually breathe – what it feels like when that stranglehold releases – even if it’s just for a moment – and I got a taste of what it feels like to stand up for what you believe in. Maybe I’m trying to become someone I respect.
Maybe it’s all of those things, and maybe it’s none of those things. At any rate, I found myself standing at the Heinemann Publishing stand at the National Council of Teachers of English annual conference, searching for just the right book to guide me as I tested the waters of educational advocacy. “I’m thinking about going into outreach and non-profit work. I have to do something about all these issues that are just tearing my community apart!” I implored to the poor innocent woman who was unlucky enough to be standing there and offering assistance when I stumbled up to her. “I have no idea what I’m doing. Do you have a book about how to UNITE my community?” I had had extra coffee that morning, so some might call me “extra” at that moment. “I want all of these books! But I don’t have a lot of money. Which one should I buy?”
I looked at her like she was the one lifeline I had left.
She made a small flutter of her hands, a gesture that I later realized was body language for “Umm…” She turned slowly and her eyes travelled across the 40-45 book covers beautifully displayed on their shelves. She reached for The Civically Engaged Classroom only to hear me say, “I read that one. That one was good!” She glanced over her shoulder at me and nodded. She reached again, this time for Grading for Equity. “I read that one, too.”
Her hand dropped.
“Do you have anything really recent? Like, published within the past two years?” I asked.
And that’s when she handed me this book.
I was intrigued. It’s not too long, and a quick flip-through let me know that the typeset was manageable. I decided to take it.
I didn’t realize how much it would affect me.
I learned a lot more details about a lot of things I already knew: IEPs, 504s, whether or not Americans have a right to an education, how the Constitution takes care of immigrants and their children, and so on. However, this case – Tinker v. Des Moines Independent Community School District – is sticking with me.
On December 16th, 1965, Mary Beth Tinker and a friend wore black armbands to their school to protest the Vietnam War. The students were sent home and suspended from school. The students and parents filed a civil rights action in federal court on the grounds that their free speech rights had been improperly denied. They won.
The reason this case caught my eye more than others is because of a current issue in my community. Earlier this fall, a policy was amended by our school board, suggesting teachers may not “espouse” a particular religion or political stance, among other things. This policy has since been tabled, but I was very concerned about this policy for quite some time. Here’s why.
If you look up the definition to “espouse,” it means “to adopt.” Think of it this way: When you marry your “spouse,” you “adopt” that person into your family. Thus, when I read this policy, I was concerned about what this meant. It specifically singled out teachers in that we could not “espouse” or “adopt” a religion or political stance. Does that mean that because I am employed by my school district and subject to their policies, I’m not allowed to adopt a religion? I’m not allowed to choose whether I’m Democrat, Republican, or otherwise? It surely can’t mean that, I would say to myself. That feels like a violation of my rights as an American citizen!
Okay, so maybe the policy writing needs some fine-tuning. Let’s say teachers and staff can’t espouse a religion or political stance in front of students. Let’s explore that for a moment: Why? What’s the reasoning here? Why would it be so bad for a student to know that his teacher is Muslim? Didn’t vote for Trump? Is in favor of gun control, and not in favor of the reversal of Roe v. Wade? Why would it be so harmful to a student when she sees that her teacher has a gay pride flag outside his door? I’m confused about the threat of danger here. Just because his teacher believes in those things doesn’t mean the student has to do the same, nor should he.
I directly tell students that I will not divulge my own personal beliefs; I want them to make up their own minds on topics and issues that matter to them. Interestingly, my father disagrees with this fact. He asserts that it is beneficial to teenagers when they see someone who has carefully considered the evidence and made a logical decision – even if that belief conflicts with their own. He claims students need to see that even if we disagree, we can still value one another, empathize, learn from one another, and live peaceably together. I believe he has a valid point, but I haven’t yet had the courage to live my professional life in this manner; I fear retribution and discipline, which is a big enough topic for an entirely different post!
Let’s be real here, though.
I’m thinking the problem this policy is trying to address is actually elsewhere. Is the concern that teachers are indoctrinating and advocating specific religious or political stances to students? If that’s the true concern, then I think I’d react more favorably to those specific words (indoctrinate and advocate) being used in the policy language. In fact, I agree with that wording! I understand how young people can take an important adult’s viewpoints too seriously, and I agree that it is NOT my place to indoctrinate or advocate a specific viewpoint to my students. Concurrently, it is not my district’s place to strip me of my humanity. So, where does the line fall between honoring parents’ power and preserving humanity?
In this book, I learned about the Tinker case, and it’s interesting to apply the Supreme Court’s ruling to this current situation:
Additionally, the Court also held that “where there is no finding and no showing that engaging in the forbidden conduct would materially and substantially interfere with the requirements of appropriate discipline in the operation of the school, the prohibition (of speech) cannot be sustained.”
To me, this is the federal law my district is trying to – or should try to – duplicate as a district policy. As Americans, teachers have a right to adopt and express our views as we like. However, I agree that if those free speech expressions interfere with a student’s access to education, then the staff member should be held accountable for those actions.
So, what did I think of this book?
If you can’t tell, I found it quite thought-provoking. I appreciated the additional background information regarding policies I am already subject to and acting on, but this also gave me food for thought for the future. The writing style was accessible, and Kim’s repeated chapter structure was appreciated. I would definitely recommend this book to colleagues and parents.
One final thought…
Consider the reflection from page 80 below. Interesting, huh? 😉