Years ago in a class on equity and education, Dr. Jeff Duncan-Andrade told us students that if we dared to practice a critical or transformative pedagogy, that we should prepare to be fired at some point in our careers. Dr. Duncan-Andrade was one of the best secondary teachers (and professors) I had ever met, but he had been previously fired from a job despite having been awarded as a “teacher of the year”.
So with this advice firmly planted in my head over the years, it was a bit of shock, but no surprise, that I was fired from my job as an English and Humanities teacher on Friday.
Over the last three years in that position, I pushed for teaching that would meaningfully engage all my students of ethnic minority backgrounds and push them to higher levels of academic attainment. I am extremely proud of the work we accomplished and the ways in which students grew as readers, writers, thinkers, communicators, and community members.
However, that push led to conflict and frustration. Clearly my vision for meeting the needs of students did not match the school’s own vision, or lack of vision. Over the years, I consistently enquired about what the vision was for meeting the academic, emotional, and social needs of students from ethnic minority backgrounds at our school. Yet never once was I engaged in such a conversation.
I could see by the end of the last academic year that I was not going to be part of building a program for students at the school. With that in mind, I sought new employment, and was presented with several offers and opportunities. I had always prided myself on a sense of professionalism guided by diplomacy and collaboration, so I knew I needed to work somewhere that would again nurture those values in me.
I was resolved to take my career to a school with shared vision, where my talents would be appreciated and developed, so I was startled to receive an offer from the school for full-time employment for the following year. I refused any offer at first, but the school was persistent, and obviously worried about the enrollment for the following year. Without the minimum number of students in form one, the school could face closure. At that point, there had been three years of lack of cooperation to develop a program for students, so I was skeptical about the school’s intentions in offering me a new position. If I had been so much trouble, why would they want me back?
So on Friday, less than two months into the new year, with the fourth principal at the head of the school in the three years I spent at the school, I was informed that my contract was terminated because there could be no cooperation between myself and the school.
My mother has always taught me to be positive and the see possibility in any setback. Now, I am deeply saddened at the loss of my students. I am going to greatly miss seeing their faces in the morning: their smiles, their scowls, their distressed looks, and their mischievous grins. I’m going to miss seeing their joy in picking up a new book or making the class crack up with their writing. But I know there is something greater beyond now.
A school faces many constraints, and within those constraints, a critical/transformative pedagogy is increasingly difficult. My goal now has to be to create a space for like-minded educators, families, and students to build the learning community they deserve. This is real life, not a movie. Virus does not give the pen to Rancho. If we want a different kind of education, we have to build it.
In the meantime, I want all of my students to work hard. Get the most you can out of each subject, each lesson. Keep taking advantage of opportunities presented to you. Respect your teachers and your school. Your community at your school goes on beyond me.
I wish we were not facing this discontinuity. I wanted to be alongside you all for much longer. But we face a sudden and unexpected change. The time to be resilient is now.
I will now focus on finally finishing my dissertation over the next couple months. Yes, soon I will be Dr. C. Then, I will figure out how I can continue to work with some of you in some other capacity. We have built our social capital over the last three years, and there are many people willing to help.
Thanks to all my friends, colleagues, students, and family who continue to support me. I love all of you.