All Categories - #Myblackteacher

Sharene's Story

8/10/2016

Miss Greene was the choral director at my high school, and she led both the jazz choir and the gospel choir, which us white kids were in awe of. We all loved it that she opened her room to us, letting us eat lunch, sing, and fool around on the piano whenever we had free time. She also directed the annual musical and brought in terrific costumes and sets, making us feel like we were putting on a real show.

For me personally, Miss Greene was the first person to help me see that as much as I enjoyed being on stage, I also liked running the show—she allowed me to stage some numbers and I discovered a love of choreography and direction. Years later I made an independent film. Thank you!

~Sharene Azimi

Tomika's Story

6/23/2016

Hi, my name is Tomika and my story is just beginning... I am twenty-six years young working with youth in Oakland.

We've all heard the stories right or rumors about kids in East Oakland schools... "they're troublesome; not going to amount to anything; gonna fall victim to the streets..." I like to think a little differently. There's a magic that pulses through Oakland streets, you see it in the youth! They are outspoken, conscious, creative, talented!

For a year (yes, I know it's not that long) I worked at Alliance Academy in East Oakland through BAYAC-Americorps. I heard the turnover rate at this school was unusually high, and that there have been altercations between students and teachers...all kinds of horror stories! Being that our school was shared with it's big sister school, Elmhurst Community Prep, I noticed the grave differences in how my students were treated versus how ECP students were treated. Their connection to resources and extracurricular activities made me wonder what Alliance was missing? What could I bring to this campus to help the youth have a voice outside of the anger and constant negative stigma? The constant thought as I walked onto campus on the daily was "Are these kids being heard? Do we value their voices?"

Being a very creative person, I looked to creative writing, art, and dance as tools to help my youth find their voices and express themselves in a positive and healthy manner. I had no idea how much of an impact I had on my students until we let out for winter break. The constant love, and compassion towards these youth started to take bloom in them. A lot of my students come from unfortunate circumstances, and seeing me helped ease some of the pain and suffering they go through when they leave campus.

I am forever grateful to have worked at this school and recongize that this is just the beginning of my journey as a creative educator! I have goals to make a difference globally. touching youth around the world!

~Tomika Iyalla, an Oakland, CA teacher

Erin's story

5/31/2016

The first black teacher I had wasn't until I reached college. I took an African-American history class which completely challenged what I was taught about Black History in my standard, K-12, public school education. Throughout the class we read chapters of Howard Zinn's "A People's History of the United States" which changed me forever. At the time I felt really heartbroken by all the atrocities and many ugly truths about the history of my country. On the other hand, this education enabled me to look more closely at my own personal experiences and make sense of them in a larger context. I also recall how the teacher would facilitate discussions so that the class who was mostly very young and quite diverse could engage and understand why this history was important to them as well. He was excited about what he taught and he really ask thoughtful questions. It was the inspiration for me to later focus on multicultural literature and even later to work in education with first generation college students. I am so humbly grateful for this teacher's work! ~Erin

Kara's story

4/14/2016

There were two Black teachers whose excellence bookended my time at school. Mrs. Hines taught kindergarten and created a welcoming classroom. I remember her kindness and careful attention. Her lessons got me ready to read and laid the foundation for the rest of of my book-loving life. When I was a senior in high school, Mr. Jordan taught drama. As a teacher who took his students seriously, he was an enthusiastic and nurturing force; he tirelessly asked his students to perform their best. Mr. Jordan allowed me to direct a play, providing invaluable guidance while giving me space to figure things out on my own. Thanks, #MyBlackTeacher, for hosting these memories! ~Kara Wuest

How a chance encounter was the seed to starting the Black Teacher Project

2/29/2016

In January of 2014 I walked into a day-long professional development session that I was co-facilitating as part of my work with the San Francisco Coalition for Essential Small Schools (SFCESS). All of a sudden I hear Ms. Mosely is that you? I ‘d worked with this school before and none of the teachers had ever been so formal with me. When I turned around, though, I saw it was my former student Belinda. I hadn’t seen her since I left my position as a Social Studies teacher in 1998. “Belinda?!? It’s great to see you, what are you doing here?” I exclaimed. “I teach 7th grade English now” she replied. I can’t express in words the joy that came over me. I quickly had to refocus on the work I was doing with the whole staff, but I knew that this was more than serendipity; there was some larger reason why we were reconnecting at this time.

I had already been thinking about The Black Teacher Project, but I wasn’t sure where we’d begin or what it would look like. Over the next few months I had the opportunity to observe Belinda’s teaching and coach her in her role as a new teacher. She was and is an amazing teacher. I was blown away by her organization, rigor and obvious care for her students. She was a much better teacher than I had been at her age. I admitted to her that I was proud and surprised. Belinda was not a strong high school student. I taught her Modern World History and recruited her for the softball team I started as a way to keep her engaged with school and to let her know that I saw her beyond what was happening in the classroom. We both struggled — she couldn’t keep her grades up, and I couldn’t get her to open up to me so that I could help more. When we reflected on that time she had been experiencing major trauma in her personal life and that our connection was meaningful for her, even if I didn’t know it.

Fast forward to 2015, we’re meeting in her classroom and I ask her how things are going. She’s struggling to navigate the impact of gentrification. A white parent is questioning her teaching because their child didn’t get an A on an assignment. Reflecting on the experience, Belinda shared, “I grew up in this city. I wanted to come back and teach kids like me because I know what so many of them are going through. I didn’t come here to deal with whiny privileged parents!” I knew exactly what she meant. This was the same reason that I had chosen to teach at Thurgood Marshall, a school with a majority of low-income students of color. I felt for her. I knew first-hand what a great teacher she was, and her principal assured me that this was not about her teaching as much as her race. The big sister in me wanted to find this parent and give them a piece of my mind (Brooklyn-style). Instead I went back to Belinda and posed a question: “What is your political project? Teaching is a political act, what are you up to?” I wanted to remind her she had a responsibility to the students in her class that fit the demographic she imagined as well as those who didn’t. But no reminder was necessary. She was clear that she wanted to teach her students to love themselves and fight against oppression. This was aligned with her work as a community organizer in between high school and teaching. It was through our conversations over the next several months that helped me get clear that “every child deserves a Black teacher.” In this case that parent needed their child to have a Black teacher. Our work is as much about social-political change as it is curriculum and pedagogy.

They say good teaching involves learning from your students. Thanks to Belinda for being #myBlackteacher.

~Micia Mosely, Executive Director of the Black Teacher Project

Belinda's story

2/27/2016

In the late 90’s at Thurgood Marshall Academic High School, I encountered the no-nonsense and comical nature that was Micia Mosely (the Executive Director of the Black Teacher Project now). She was the first Black teacher in my life that was honest with her students about the society that we lived in and the conditions that were created to sustain an oppressive system. I will never forget this one day in class. We were learning about the Industrial Revolution, and Ms. Mosely was leading a read-aloud in our class textbook. As I silently read along, Ms. Mosely came across a line under an image of Black slaves toiling the earth with a White overseer standing next to them. Below the image, it read, “And the slaves were happy.” Ms. Mosely immediately paused, looked at the class with a concerned look, and quipped back, “Now I need y’all to know that these slaves were not happy, and I am shocked that they would print something like this in a high school textbook.” She deeply sighed, and raised our awareness in one breath as we snickered and gasped in disdain at this clear error. We, low-income and middle-class students of color, and native San Franciscans from the south side of the city – were very clear that this was unjust. Ms. Mosely led an impromptu class discussion on the real history of slavery and the rest is herstory.

This memory was forever ingrained in my psyche. I appreciated Micia’s ability to be candid with us, and I wish I could have been as candid with her about what I was dealing with in my family life. I closed myself off from adult support and, instead, self-medicated while cutting class with best friends. Micia tried to reach out to me, but I was so overwhelmed by everything I was feeling that I shut down. Either way, I still felt and was impacted by her presence even if at a distance.

In 2014, I was a community organizer turned classroom educator who had had a horrifying first year of teaching where I suffered an identity crisis and job loss. But then at Everett Middle School, I was able to recover with parts of my identity slowly coming back to me. In this process of humility and insecurity, it was at Everett’s mid-year retreat that the universe would put a model that would be able to guide me on my new path and continued purpose in life. I had already been thinking about where to find people in my community who were an example of what I was trying to do as a queer, Black, socially-conscious teacher. As I stepped out of the elevator and walked into the Hanson Bridgett office, I saw this tall figure with silver, heart-shaped earrings, a burgundy sweater, and black pants. As they turned around, my mind grew, and my heart filled, as I approached Micia Mosely, saying, gleefully, “Ms. Mosely!” She looked at me, and stopped in her tracks. Jaw dropped. Arms open. We embraced and before a tear dropped from my bright eyes, she said, “Stop before you have me start crying.” We laughed and she asked if we could catch up.

Ever since then, we have done more than catch up. Micia has played a pivotal role in my development as a Black teacher because she returned to my life during a time when I was in the beginning stages of identifying my purpose in my new role as a 7th grade Language Arts teacher, and a politicized San Francisco native who struggled with the effects of gentrification on my once beloved city. Micia was able to help me clarify my political project and translate that into tangible steps that I could take to implement it in a way that felt authentic to the skin I am in. Micia and I’s return was a return to kinship. It is hard to find queer, Black teachers who are living their life, unafraid and unapologetic. Micia has demonstrated the importance of critical pedagogy that is rooted in Black queerness, and I will forever be thankful that she was #myBlackteacher.

~Belinda Bellinger, San Francisco Unified School District

Betsy's story

2/24/2016

In a school of teachers who hated my curiosity, Ms. Umphlett appreciated it, because she loved to learn too. ~Betsy D.

Stephanie's story

2/23/2016

Mrs. Gore... everyone was afraid of her! She was strict and serious, never any fun. That's what the other kids said, but I didn't believe them none. She stood at the front of the class, taught us transitional words and the essay form. We did science projects and raised meal worms of our own! I know she was tough, but she was just what I needed. Marilyn Gore, it's been years! But thanks to you I succeeded. ~Stephanie Corrales

Candy's story

2/23/2016

Mrs. Witherspoon, from Coral Way Elementary has taught 5 generations of the Gonzalez-Gutierrez clan. Starting with my older sister, and lately, my two youngest cousins. Her dedication to the many generations of students at Coral Way is inspiring. The campus would not be the same without her energy and wisdom. Thank you, not only for molding me and my relatives into a great students, but for your kindness and generosity. ~Candy Gonzalez

Joseph's story

2/21/2016

My 4th grade homeroom teacher, Mrs. Howard, was my favorite teacher throughout grade school. She was quite tall, very pretty, always wore her hair pulled back in a bun, and dressed in long-sleeved blouses and over-the-knee skirts. Sure there were other nice teachers but nobody compared to Mrs. Howard who simply had the warmest vibe, and every kid (even the bad ones) always paid her due respect. She encouraged our class to read often and exhibited such patience with the small group of students who had trouble keeping up with the rest of the class. I remember her encouragement when 5-6 students (myself included) wanted to try out for patrol duty as 5th graders the following year. She was very supportive and said we each had a very good grade average and something about being "half way there", which meant we qualified to be elementary school patrols. Even when a student was in trouble (which rarely ever happened) she had a way of making him/her realize their error without embarrassing the student in front of other students. She was the authority figure, no doubt, but certainly didn't abuse it. I knew kids from other classes who hated their homeroom teachers and wished they had been assigned to Mrs. Howard instead. . . . What a great memory of a teacher to recall. :) ~Joseph Marin