we deserve better

we aint dead yet
said the children
don’t believe it
we just made ourselves invisible
- “healer,” erykah badu

If I could say anything to the governor, I would say that it seems like we don’t care, but we really do care. And if you decide to not cut budgets for our schools, maybe we would care more.
- 9th grade student, in a letter to California State Representative on what she thinks about Arnold Swarchenegger’s decision to cut the state’s education budget by $4.4 billion

last Wednesday, I decided to take a break from my usual lesson plans and activities to hold a discussion about the governor’s recent decision to cut a ridiculous amount of money from schools. even before I heard about swarchenegger’s decision, our district had already been feeling an all time morale low in which our superintendent was recently removed by the board because of a decade of mismanagement, our district announced it built a $3 million debt and failed to fill important administrative positions, and many of our class sizes have been raised to 40 students. up until Wednesday, I had heard a lot of complaints about the cuts from teachers, administrators, the media, but I had yet to hear what the students had to say. All this time I’ve been hearing teachers and union members decry class sizes and possibilties of salary cuts – but it’s all been within the scope of how the cuts affect teachers and jobs – and I couldn’t help but to think, uhhhhhhhh, what about the students?? what kind of message does this send to our students about how we value education and their success?

So I found a dope youtube clip that breaks down the school finance system, told students about the $4.4 billion cut, showed the clip to my students, and then had them write letters to their state representative on how they feel about the budget cuts. I did the same activity with three classes that day – for the most part students were disappointed and genuinely surprised at how much money was being taken away from them. As I planned this activity, I was thinking – yeah, this is gonna be fucking dope, my students will get a chance to voice their opinions about this bull shit. And they did. Some students mentioned what could be done with more money – perhaps clean up the stretch of unused, dilapidated bungalows on our campus that are becoming a rat-infested health hazard, maybe create a larger computer lab that could accommodate a 3,300-student school, perhaps get enough books for every student to take home, or maybe pay for new soccer uniforms to replace the old, tired ones the team has been recycling for years.

But as I reached my third class with the same activity, I noticed a trend. All students were pretty disappointed at the budget cuts. They were engaged enough to sit silently and write letters to their state representatives. I began to think, are they writing these letters because they genuinely care, or is this just becoming another assignment to complete? So after my last class was finished writing letters, I opened it up for discussion:

Me: So, honestly, folks. How much do you really care about this? Is this important to you?
Class pauses to think, some students concentratedly lookin up, some students shrugging.
Student 1: Um, I guess half care, half not. I dunno.
Student 2: Yeah, me too. I don’t know, it’s always been like this.
Class unites, nodding their heads.

At this point in the day, 6th period, I became overwhelmed by my students’ capacity to accept a failed school system. And I noticed the same feeling every period. I tried to respond to their semi-apathy with some inciting, inspiring words. But all the sudden I started tearing up. Part of me thought, fuck, I should’ve taken my pill on time; the other part of me thought, fuck it, these tears just show how I truly feel about this. As I embarrassingly wiped tears from my eyes and attempted to fight that annoying hyper-ventilation hiccup, I told my students how important these issues are to me, that I became a teacher to reach every single student, that these budget cuts are practically making it a policy that not every student will have an opportunity at success. And I thought, maybe these policy-makers just assume that students don’t care enough to want to change this fucked up system – and, maybe they’re right.

The more I teach, the more I recognize – with painful disappointment – that students really have bought in to this idea that they live in a fucked up world and that’s just the way it is. I’m reminded by an episode of Project Runway, where Tim’s talking to a contestant about some stylistic choices. The basic gist of his story is that a person walks into a room full of shit and at first, he’s disgusted by the stench. A few minutes later, the stench still stinks, but not as much. Finally, a few hours later, the shit doesn’t smell so bad and the guy comes to think, shit’s actually not half bad. And my students – and all students across the public school system – have been living in, working in, and expected to learn in a system of shit. From an outsider perspective as a teacher and as a person who had relatively better resources in school, I can smell the shit from miles away. But my students have become accustomed to these conditions to the point where many have forgotten that they all deserve better, that yes it’s cool to be smart and successful, that it’s possible to make change.

But, I know – deep down -- my students care. And some of them, along with students of a homie teacher friend of mine – are in the works towards planning a Day of Action against the budget cuts, going down April 18. I think as an educator, I need to get beyond the anxiety of noticing students’ apathy, and give them the tools they need to see that they can make a difference in their world. So we’ll see. We’ll see!