A "Courageous Conversation" about race

Aki Mori

By Aki Mori
My school district is sincere and purposeful about reducing "the achievement gap," a term that exists ubiquitously in public education circles. Even if you were not a teacher like me, you might correctly guess that the achievement gap refers to the persistent and troubling difference in academic achievement between White students on the one hand, and Black, Latino, and Native American students on the other. (Asian students don't easily fit into the dichotomy, a topic for another time.) 

As a major component in a larger strategy to combat this pernicious gap, my school district -- like many districts across the country -- has made a philosophical and financial investment in the approach outlined in the groundbreaking book "Courageous Conversations" by Glenn Singleton and Wallace Linton. Last week I just finished reading the book as a pre-condition to attending a district-sponsored training session, which I will attend in August to become a Courageous Conversation “facilitator.” 

The phrase "Courageous Conversations" refers not only to the title of the book, but also to the solution it prescribes: There is a growing cadre of educators in my district who, when they are asked what they are doing to bridge the achievement gap, will answer that they are initiating courageous conversations about race at their various school sites. 

Let me preface the remainder of this piece by saying that "Courageous Conversations" is an amazing, powerful book, one that frequently resonates with my own life experience as an Asian-American. But as I organize my thoughts in preparation for my upcoming training, I have a number of questions.  And these questions are what I am excited to share with the vibrant community of readers of the "Rough and Rede" blog. 

"Courageous Conversations" views White-ness from the narrow perspective of power and privilege. In a nutshell, the book advocates that true change around racial equity in education can not occur until a critical mass of White teachers accept 1) the daily experience of oppression that people of color feel and 2) the unearned privileges that they themselves benefit from, by virtue of being White. Depending on your own personal experience, you might admire the fact that a mostly White school district has adopted this book, or you might be horrified. (I reside in the camp of admiration.) 

Nevertheless, I am left with some significant questions that I plan on raising in a couple of weeks:
 
This might be an appropriate model of conversation among adults, but how does this inform, if at all, our classroom interactions with White students? If any of us as teachers were to accept the notion of White privilege (which, in fact, is difficult to deny), is there any point at which White students should begin to be made aware of it? (Consider that students of color often become aware of White privilege on their own, at a young age—I certainly did.) 

And the next series of questions reflect a vision I have that is different from mainstream attitudes around multi-culturalism and diversity in our schools. Namely, I feel that as educators, we must be more inclusive of White students within the context of celebrating cultural diversity. Why? Because providing White people the space and encouragement to explore and find pride in their heritage helps minorities in the long run by placing cultural celebrations of all types in a context that is neither "us versus them" or somehow "un-American." 

The other critical reason that White students need to view their identity in a cultural context is that eventually (when they are older) they need to understand that American society, though pluralistic, multi-racial, and multi-cultural, consists of institutions that are decidedly rooted in the heritage of Europe — the basis of White privilege, in other words. Such a knowledge places the nagging, persistent challenges facing people of color in a more contextual, non-judgmental light. 

With the above in mind, I pose the following additional questions: 

In our country, is there such a thing as a White (or European-American, if you prefer) culture, distinguishable from “American” culture, which we all share? Not all White families feel a sense of connectedness to their European roots because their generational roots in the United States run so deep. How can students from these families be included in celebrations of cultural diversity? 

It’s an honor to share some of my current reflections about race with the “Rough and Rede” community. Our society desperately needs more meaningful dialogue about race. And our discussions ought to be more honest, more frequent, and more open. Submitting this guest blog is my contribution.


Aki Mori is an educator in a Portland-area school district. I met Aki in 2009 after I published an op-ed piece he submitted to The Oregonian. In his author tagline, I noticed he had previously worked for the New Haven School District in California. That's where I went to grade school in Union City, roughly 40 miles from San Francisco. We met for coffee several weeks later and have kept up a nice correspondence since then.

Coming tomorrow: Field of American Dreams, by Patty Chang Anker