My mis-education
EDITOR’S
NOTE: This is the first in a series of occasional columns on
various topics in the education field by School Superintendent
John D’Auria.
The holiday
season, while festive and celebratory, often poses its own set
of complicated dynamics for me. The invitations to numerous
social events and parties clash with my desire for solitude that
seems to increase as we approach late December. My wife
usually has to apply extraordinary persuasion to move me out of
our home and in the direction of local festivities. It is with
this less-than-eager, but carefully concealed attitude that I
responded affirmatively a few years ago to an invitation to a
colleague’s annual Christmas party.
Although the
thought of enjoying his company was appealing, I was anxious
that I would not know many other guests. This concern, combined
with the hermit-like persona that overtakes me as the New Year
approaches, kept my excitement for this social event at a
minimum. There was something else, however, that made this
invitation a little more complex for me to both think about and
now write about. I anticipated that I might be one of only a
handful of white people in attendance. Therefore, I found myself
anxiously ascending the stairs to my colleague’s home with a
nervousness that I had not experienced since I was a kid. For a
short while, I became a teenager again, trying hard not to
appear self-conscious or out of place. It took an enormous
amount of energy trying to appear nonchalant.
As I took a
few deep breaths and delved into conversation, I began to relax
and mingle with a few other partygoers. I met someone who grew
up in Barbados and a couple who have family in South Carolina. I
met others who visit their relatives in Bermuda over the
holidays. Several of the people present shared what their
post-college children were doing for employment. My wife and I
picked their brains about the challenge of finding decent jobs
and getting used to your children as grown-up adults. We learned
about various forms of employment that engaged the work lives of
these guests.
As I
absorbed this palette of different experiences, my mind began to
provide editorial commentary.
“I am
surprised I am having a good time.”
“I can’t
believe how much I have in common with this person.”
This
self-talk, I now understand, came from the part of mind that
housed my ignorance and prejudices and was reacting to the fact
that for a long period of time, my wife and I were the only
white people in attendance. I was finally able to recognize my
personal review for what it was and this allowed me to enjoy the
people I met in a less self-conscious fashion. Conversation
flowed a little more easily. There were none of the long moments
of silence that invite discomfort. I found myself laughing and
enjoying my first taste of gumbo soup.
When we
finally left, after staying much longer than our emergency
evacuation plan called for, we both were smiling and happy to
share pieces of conversation that each of us found
interesting. And then I felt sad.
For despite
all the coursework that I had completed and the books that I had
read, my surprise at having such a good time at the party
revealed the narrowness of my education. Why was this occasion
such an unusual event in my life? Why isn’t such exposure to
different races and ethnic backgrounds more of a regular
occurrence?
While I
might be theoretically in support of initiatives to support
improved race relations, I have little to show for having any
kind of genuine, daily relationship with someone outside of my
own race.
The places
where I shop, work and live are populated with people, who are,
for the most part, almost all white. It is such an accepted and
expected experience that I hardly take notice until the tables
are reversed.
While I
appreciate the fact that my colleague’s social gathering helped
to make the invisible more visible, and to jar me out of a
comfortable complacency, I was left feeling somewhat dismayed at
my mis-education. My observations and reactions at this event
uncovered some gaping holes in my learning.
Holiday
parties will never quite be the same for me. While this single
occasion had a significant impact, unless I consistently work at
breaking free of fears and prejudice, I will keep traveling in a
comfortable but limited circle of people.
As the new
superintendent in Canton, I have often heard about the changing
“demographics” of the town. The experience I had at my friend’s
celebration makes me think about how fortunate we are to have an
increasing diversity of people within our community. This
diversity provides both a challenge and enormous potential.
Learning to
understand and include a wider net of individuals in our
personal networks involves hard work. If we are successful,
however, we, and most importantly, our children, will be better
equipped to effectively interact with the multiplicity of people
and perspectives that the 21st century demands.
We have in
our midst an incredible resource. Learning to see it as such
requires a willingness to leave our comfort zones.
Doing so
could lead to genuine learning and the possibility of enriching
the education we provide our children tenfold.
February 14, 2007
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