The Stories We Share by Kim Slusser

Kimberly Slusser currently works with pre-service teachers at Ithaca College. She began her teaching career in rural Pennsylvania (where she still lives with her family), more than 20 years ago. She earned her Bachelor’s degree at Mansfield University in Pennsylvania, her Masters degree in Reading at University at Albany, and has done additional studies in literacy at Syracuse University. Kim is also a Writing Project Fellow through the Endless Mountains Writing Project, and along with reading, and participation in multiple book clubs, she enjoys drafting poetry and collaborating with other educators and community members to reimagine and recreate messages of value shared in community and school spaces.

The Stories We Share: What your students come to understand about you and themselves and who matters in their communities

There is no better place to begin than with words from Amanda Gorman’s Inauguration Poem, “The Hill We Climb”? Gormon writes, “And, yes, we are far from polished, far from pristine, but that doesn’t mean we are striving to form a union that is perfect, we are striving to forge a union with purpose, to compose a country committed to all cultures, colors, characters and conditions of man.”

An intended hope for our country, but also an interpreted hope for our classrooms. A reminder that the very folx who have inspired and filled us with hope over the past several years (and years before that) are striving not to be perfect, but to have purpose and to compose classroom and school communities ‘committed to all cultures, colors, characters and conditions of man’. And what else but literature to create welcoming space, invite conversation, and expand knowledge and understanding of the world?

There are many brilliant, brave, well-read, and skilled educators everywhere already doing this – already nourishing their classrooms and their curriculums with literature representative of all our young peoples’ stories – in fact we’ve read posts from some of them here, here. here, and here. (Also, see #DisruptTexts and Jess Lifshitz’s curriculum analysis protocol.)

And there are brilliant, brave, well-read, skilled, and novice and/or fearful educators who recognize the fight before it comes to fruition, and worry they can’t go it alone, and so the literature in their classroom communities reflects primarily what has been accepted and approved by the communities in which they teach without critical analysis. How do we compose communities committed to all cultures, colors, characters, and conditions when fear drives our censorship and is more powerful than our desire to influence narratives of value and belonging?

A Story

Several years ago I presented with a colleague at New England Reading Association’s Annual Conference on incorporating LGBTQ literature in classrooms. At the time, we were novices – still navigating how to do be more inclusive ourselves. As a straight, cis-gender female, I had just begun learning to use my privilege to advocate for change, and to draw others into necessary conversations. My colleague was engaging in this work as a lesbian, cis-gender female, and often alerted me to bias in my language as we collaborated. We both came to the work with perspectives and quickly learned the importance of having critical-conversation colleagues. More importantly, perhaps, we were learning and growing as we reflected on our own failures as classroom teachers.

While we addressed the foundational work of Rudine Sims Bishop’s “windows, mirrors, and sliding glass doors,” our goal was to engage participant introspection and to encourage participants to develop insight we hadn’t developed until we were well into our higher ed teacher education careers. We wanted participants to consider the intentional and unintentional messages of value they were regularly sending to their students and others who entered their learning spaces. We wanted them to examine whose stories they were validating, particularly through their literature selections and omissions.

In preparation, we purchased paint, popsicle sticks, t-shirts, blacklights, and blacklight markers, and stacks of new books. Then, we began to examine (separately and then together) our own messages of value from our classroom teaching days. We reflected on the literature we had in our classrooms, the literature we were reading at the time, the literature we recommended to students, and of course the literature we used as part of our curriculums. Then we examined the types of characters and storylines that were most prevalent, and those that were missing completely.

This was a hard and embarrassing reflection for me. I learned, for example, that in my effort to select literature that would appeal to my middle school male-identifying students, I unintentionally sent the message that boys’ stories mattered more than girls’ stories. When I arrived at this Middle School as a new teacher, I was told by fellow teachers that most of the boys were “reluctant” readers (“dormant” readers, according to author Donalyn Miller), and I was told by administration I had freedom to select any books I wished as long as they didn’t upset the local churches. At the time, this seemed reasonable. I had been so completely focused on one goal: making sure the stories I chose spoke to the male-identifying students, that I completely and inadvertently left out important stories about the lives of female, queer, and non-binary characters (and a whole slew of other characters).

My friend and colleague discovered that while she was not intentional in sending messages indicating she valued heteronormative stories more than others, she was intentional in excluding LGBTQ stories because for her there were personal risks involved. She had to grapple with what it might look like or mean for a gay/lesbian teacher to offer, use, or talk about literature centering LGBTQ stories, especially for a teacher who was not out, and was teaching in fairly conservative area.

Our collaboration led us to many conversations about privilege, identity and intersectionality. We had plenty in common, but sometimes it took effort and discomfort to examine and understand how our differences impacted the ways we approached the work.

Both of us selected some of our most prominent values as represented to our students based on our teaching and choice of literature, and then wore them on t-shirts as we presented, displaying our vulnerabilities and our unintended messages of value. Our reasoning for making and wearing the shirts was so that it was evident how we “display” our messages even when they are unintended. We had to do the work to examine our own teaching and decision making in order to grow and do better, and that process is difficult. Our wearing of the shirts was us sitting in our discomfort and being honest about what our students were seeing/hearing in our classrooms. For us, doing this made it real or less abstract, therefore suddenly making the work of reimagining our learning spaces more immediate.

Next, the participants in our session began exploring all of the messages we might unintentionally (or intentionally) send to students about what we value without ever explicitly expressing so. For example, the inclusion of specific ethnicities, religions, sexualities, genders, ability, family-types, languages, academic achievements, personalities, economic statuses, types of students, student athletes or musicians, etc. Each participant received a popsicle stick upon entrance to our session, so they wrote on the sticks with invisible markers examples of the kinds of stories included in their classrooms. Partway through the session we asked participants, one at a time, to state “I value…” before revealing their popsicle stick message with the blacklight and finishing the sentence. Some participants became uncomfortable as their hidden biases or messages of value came into the light. Here are a few examples of phrases revealed with the black lights:

Jewish stories
Boys’ stories more than girls’ stories
Education
Wealth
Work ethic
The lives and stories of cisgendered individuals
White stories
Academic, rule-following girls
Single-parent households
Students with siblings

Following this activity, we asked our participants to reflect on the exercise and to begin evaluating their own messages of value as potentially interpreted by their students and colleagues. The focus of this reflection was not on individual teacher beliefs, but instead on understanding how literature selections and omissions could impact entire classrooms of students, including their internalization of beliefs about themselves and their families.

Many participants expressed having a revelation in thinking about the impact of literature selection, and realizing that in school districts where incorporating diverse literature may not have seemed worth the fight, suddenly the fight took on new meaning. Suddenly, regardless of personal beliefs, teachers started questioning:

How can we really teach students who exist in classrooms where they don’t feel valued or seen?
Do my literature choices contribute to a culture of acceptance and appreciation, or to a culture of fear and prejudice?
How can we stretch our students’ minds when we continually share the same stories of the same people every day, every year?
Isn’t it important that our students see and believe that we value all the stories?
Isn’t it important that we fight to share truth in our classrooms?
How do we help foster future citizens who value diversity if we don’t exemplify this in our P-12 learning spaces?

A National Model

Our new United States administration understands this concept. In fact, just this week, so many stories were validated, messages of value were on display for the world to see. We welcomed our first woman vice president (and first Black and Asian American): Kamala Harris. We heard news of Dr. Rachel Levine, Pennsylvania Secretary of Health being appointed as Assistant Health Secretary, and Pete Buttigieg being appointed as Transportation Secretary – both members of the LGBTQ community. We have a potential first Native American Cabinet Member, Deb Haaland and first immigrant and Latino, Alejandro Mayorkas for Secretary of Homeland Security. We were recited a powerful inauguration poem by a young black woman (the youngest in the history of inaugurations): Amanda Gorman.

While this list is not exhaustive, non even all-inclusive, I am suddenly alert. I am recognizing a new pattern of inclusivity, representation and valuing; indeed, it is white supremacy and patriarchal systems that have prevented such inclusivity in the past. I am recognizing that even seasoned leaders have reflected and taken action for diverse representations, and our schools must, too.

Imagine how impactful our sometimes seemingly unimportant selection of stories can be, not just within our immediate learning communities but on a level beyond our classrooms and schools and local communities. It may be hard to evaluate the risk for new or inexperienced or fearful teachers, especially within districts that have not been welcoming of diverse stories and diverse teachers, but our students (now and as their future selves) are more important than the forces at play to uphold unfair messages of superiority and inferiority.

In closing of her inauguration poem, Amanda Gorman reminds us, “…for there is always light if only we’re brave enough to see it, if only we’re brave enough to be it.” Let’s keep challenging each other to be brave enough to be it.

Questions for Reflection, Conversation, & Action

What messages of value are your students receiving based on your literature selections and/or omissions?
Based on your selections or omissions, whose stories matter?
Are these the messages you wish for your students to receive?
If not, how can you remedy this?
What support do you need to use the literature necessary for you to send more diverse messages of value?
What do you perceive as your biggest/most difficult challenges?
Do you have critical colleagues who can help you with this process?
Are you a teacher who has been through the process and is willing to mentor others?
Are you a teacher who is currently and consciously working to shift your messages of value, and willing to share your experiences?
Have you asked your students what messages they receive in school about whose stories matter? Can they be part of the solution?