This girl has so much confidence. I wish I had half of what she has. I could learn from her. Confidence is such a big part of our success in life.

I often tell the girls, speak up! Folks tend to believe and respect those who speak with confidence. I hope they will remember that as they get older. Seems they’re off to a great start.

source: Alessia Caiazzo, courtesy of CrossFit.com

You exist in the subconscious without opposition. It’s but a quick trip to the tongue, where you roll off with ease. And with no real impediment, you penetrate the minds of those within earshot. But the utterance of you is not even necessary. You seep from the pores of those who let you live in them. You hang in the air like a foul stench. A simple waving of the hand in front of our nose doesn’t always rid you. You are resilient. You are very convincing. So much “evidence” proves you right. And before any of us know it, we are a slave to you.

To jump, to run, to improve, to love, to live, to earn, to forgive, to forget, to change. You will convince us none of this is within our grasp. To be intelligent, to recover, to heal, to be strong, to let ourselves cry, to take risk, to be happy, to be extraordinary. You will keep us from a life fulfilled if we allow you.

But the Universe is beautiful and if we listen closely will reveal the truth. You have no power over us. The evidence you have given us is false. At least the evidence we have allowed ourselves to see. But the reality is there are those of us who prove you wrong everyday. Some of them are doing mind boggling things with the same abilities we all have. Some are doing extraordinary things with every “ability” taken away from them. Sometimes we surprise ourselves and the little eternal light that lives within us all, allows us to see the possibilities and not be buried by the doubts. And it is from these sources the rest of us will be inspired to accomplish all it is you’ve convinced us we could not.

So here’s an emphatic double middle finger up to you. You have no power over us. We can. I can.

F*ck you, “Can’t”!

SOMA School District

In the last few weeks we have sent a few letters, made a few phone calls, paid a couple of visits and talked to other parents. What we discovered is we are not the only parents upset about how our district identifies and addresses the needs of children. At least one lawsuit has been threatened. We also discovered a heavy layer of lip service in regards to closing the well publicized achievement gap in the district. It is the district’s alleged number one priority but all that has been done is putting together a 50+ member panel to “make recommendations”. Seriously? C’mon. Does it really take that many people to screw in a light bulb? Commentor, davidfrazer, said it well:

“…I am not optimistic that a 55-member task force with a charge that, as I understand it extends for a year, will reach any sort of meaningful consensus. If experience is any guide, such task forces fall into three categories. Either they are stacked by the powers that be to justify a predetermined policy outcome or they produce a watered down “consensus” report that is of little real value (see, e.g., prior strategic planning process) or they break down into warring factions with “majority” and “minority” reports.

Call me cynical but I don’t see how the task “solves” the eqiuty and excellence conundrum on its own. What we need on this issue is not a “blue ribbon” panel. What we need is leadership.”

Why mention the gifted/talented program with the achievement gap? Because in my view they are joined at the hip. Is it not the responsibility (perhaps not sole) of the school system to prepare our children for academic achievement and raise each child’s educational expectations? SOMA seems settled on dumbing down educational expectations instead of raising them. This is best exemplified in the rate of participation in advanced level courses by students according to ethnicity/race (link: page 10). White students participate in these courses at a rate of almost five times that of Black students. SOMA seems to just shrug it’s institutional shoulders when questioned how to address the issue.

Perhaps the solution is simple. SOMA should focus on more participation in preparatory/advanced classes across groups, potentially raising student scores on standardized tests across those groups, and as a result the achievement gap will be un-gapped. By not doing this, how many Jack and Jill Student is SOMA underserving and miseducating? But in order for SOMA to un-gap the gap, it must properly identify children who show academic promise and address their needs. When contemplating this issue, I first thought the district’s definition of a gifted and talented child needed to be expanded. But when I read how the district characterizes those children (listed below), I changed my mind. It is:

The characteristics of exceptionally able learners (why not just called these kids “gifted and talented”?) may include, but are not limited to, the following:

• Show a high degree of intellectual, creative, and/or artistic ability and demonstrate this ability in multiple ways;
• Intense curiosity about principles and how things work;
• The ability to grasp concepts rapidly and/or intuitively;
• The ability to generate theories and hypotheses and pursue methods of injury;
• Pose questions beyond those present in the regular District curriculum;
• Make connections;
• Produce products that express insight, creativity, and/or excellence, and;
• Possess exception leadership skills.

Clearly, measuring the above characteristics is a highly subjective pursuit, but I would say the definition is pretty well thought out. So it must be SOMA’s identification method that is flawed. This brings me to the purpose of this post. I ask, if you have read this far, please share what methods you would use to identify children who possess the above traits? Please share the first thing that comes to mind in the comments.

Shout out to Lauryn Hill and Carter G. Woodson.

T-One Hard At Work

Earlier this school year I received T-One’s NJ ASK scores which test elementary school age children in NJ in language arts and math. The scores are grouped into three categories: “partially proficient” (which is just a pc way to say that the child scored below standard), “proficient” and “advanced proficient”. T-One scored at the upper end of the “proficient”. I must admit when I saw the scores I was both a little surprised and a little disappointed. The girl does so many things so well and things seem to come so naturally to her that it comes as a small shock when she’s deemed “average” at anything.

Of course as parents we think our kids are extraordinary at everything, both good and bad. In my mind, no kid is a better athlete than T-One, no kid is more creative than C-Thunda and no kids are more beautiful than either of them. There’s also the flip side. No kids get into more mischief or are as sassy or are as hair-grayingly maddening as my children. They are extraordinary in every way. But average they ain’t. At least, in my mind.

So when I opened the envelope containing T-One’s NJ ASK scores, I was a little baffled. How could T-One not have gotten a perfect score let alone a score in the higher category? I was taking her score personally as if the test makers somehow singled her out and purposely gave her questions she wasn’t prepared for. As irrational as that sounds, that’s how I felt. Knowing how standardized tests are used to essentially categorize and dissect young people into the intelligence haves and have-nots, I was defensive and a little angry. How dare they label her as merely average. They clearly must have lost their minds!

My own mind moved quickly to how those average scores would affect this not even close to average kid. Would she believe the hype thinking she was nothing special, just run of the mill? Would she be forever labeled? Would she be kept out of the proverbial reindeer games or worse, Harvard? My mind ran rampant. Even though I knew the real deal – that standardized test scores are BULLSHIT, it didn’t ease my worry at all. And it wasn’t long before my fears were realized.

Not long after I received the scores T-One’s school announced over the school’s loudspeaker that those children who scored highly on the NJ ASK would be invited to enter gifted and talented classes in language arts and math. T-One reported each child’s name was called in a (deservedly) congratulatory tone. Except, she explained, her name wasn’t among those called. I asked her how she felt about that and she said, “I felt dumb.” My heart sank. I tried to make her feel better about the situation but I wasn’t very persuasive.

T-One is definitely a competitor. She wants to be the best at what she does. But sometimes we (those that love her) have to help her with eliminating doubtful and negative self talk. Beyond helping her feel better about the situation was seeing what could be done about getting her into those classes. It doesn’t seem right to keep a bright kid from doing her best or being challenged to her utmost. I mean, there is no doubt she is “gifted and talented”, even by the state of NJ’s definition:

The regulations (N.J.A.C. 6A:8-3.1) define gifted and talented students as: Those students who possess or demonstrate high levels of ability, in one or more content areas, when compared to their chronological peers in the local district and who require modification of their educational program if they are to achieve in accordance with their capabilities.

It goes on to say that:

Local school districts must use multiple measures to identify students [as gifted and talented].

Wait a second. Multiple measures? Seems the school based their decision on a solitary measure and a inferior one at that. They didn’t take into consideration her near perfect performance in class, the 10 or so novels (yes, novels) she’s written, they didn’t consider that the work they send home is so easy for her she finishes it in less than 5 minutes most days, and that she does all while being committed to several after school activities along with the unfortunate inconvenience of being ushered between two homes. And they certainly didn’t account for her creativity and willingness to work hard. Seems to me this particular school district would go above and beyond to identify and nurture talent like T-One’s else risk perpetuating an already embarrassing and shameful condition.

Of course, there is the chance all this can be corrected by making the simple request she be invited to the classes. But I wanted to vent first. The whole ordeal had me wondering if she is really being challenged at her school or is she simply fading into the background. Getting lost in a sea of young faces. I hope that is not the case. In any regard, I will be counseling with the key folks of her school and making them aware of her gifts and talents they obviously overlooked.

So daughter number one (Thing One or T-One) complained to me the other day that she had to do yet another paper on Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. She then went on to explain how she’ll have to do a paper a year all the way up through middle school. Still being of single digit age, I doubt my daughter has any real understanding of King’s significance, especially in the Obama era.

I asked her what was wrong with writing a paper a year on King. She responded that she was running out of things to say. Mind you, each paper so far has been a one paragraph essay. She went on to explain, “All he did was help end segregation!” (As if that’s some small feat.)

My mother (The Duchess), who was in earshot, gasped. “All he did?” My mother grew up in the segregated south, participated in sit-ins and marched on Washington in ’63. So to her saying that s all King did was, well, a little disappointing. But my mom wasn’t so disappointed in my daughter. She was disappointed in me. Somehow I had dropped the ball in making my daughter aware of her history. Where we had been as people of color in this country and how far we had come.

“That little girl needs to know!” 

Immediately I began to cull together some things on the internet about and by King. The goal was to gather and compile material to convey to my daughter the greater significance of King’s life beyond what he did in fighting segregation. My first stop was his “Letter From A Birmingham Jail” in which King wrote to his fellow clergyman after being jailed for civil discord. The letter is famous for explaining why we could not wait for justice. In it he explained the difference between just and unjust laws.

A couple of weeks ago I had had a conversation with T-One about rules and why some should be followed, some can be bent and others should be broken. King was basically having the same conversation with the clergymen. I felt in good company. As I was reading the letter for my daughter (and re-reading for myself) I was struck by King’s examples.

“Perhaps it is easy for those who have never felt the stinging darts of segregation to say, ‘Wait’. But… when you suddenly find your tongue twisted and your speech stammering as you seek to explain to your six year old daughter why she can’t go to the public amusement park that has just been advertised on television, and see tears welling up in her eyes when she is told that Funtown is closed to colored children, and see ominous clouds of inferiority beginning to form in her little mental sky, and see her beginning to distort her personality… when you are harried by day and haunted by night by the fact that you are a Negro, living constantly at tiptoe stance, never quite knowing what to expect next, and are plagued with inner fears and outer resentments; when you are forever fighting a degenerating sense of ‘nobodiness’ then you will understand why we find it difficult to wait.”

King was talking about the immediate effects of a terrible institution. But I wonder if he anticipated or could even fathom the long term effects. My parents always told me I could be anything. But if I am to be completely honest, something deep in me did not allow me to believe them fully. Although I have never lived during the time of segregation, the “history” I had been taught told me my parents weren’t quite telling me the truth, unintentionally or not. America was against me I thought. Self-doubt was in me.

This isn’t a unique feeling. Doubts run rampant. No matter how confident each of us as dark brown people (we are all some shade of brown) in America feel there is a nagging doubt that we can have it all. One of the most asked questions of prominent dark brown people the days leading to Obama’s inauguration was, “Did you think you’d ever see?” To a person they all said no. That includes Oprah, Jesse Jackson, Colin Powell, Whoopi Goldberg, John Lewis and Mya Angelou and anyone else you could name. Although most of these people lived during the segregation era, many others including Will Smith, did not. But Smith felt the same doubt. On Oprah’s show Smith exclaimed that he always believed in the American ideal that anyone can do anything in this country. But, he didn’t really believe it until Obama was elected president. This cat makes $80 million a year! And he had doubts!?

So here I am wondering how much my daughter should be told about her, our “history”. I would not want the simple knowledge of where we’ve been as a country and how she would have been treated because she’s a little too brown to become ominous clouds of inferiority beginning to form in her little mental sky. Or for her to feel even on a microscopic level the need to fight a degenerating sense of “nobodiness”. I’m thinking her ignorance is a blessing. At least for now, and hopefully forever, there is nothing in her mind that would tell her a dark brown person (thanks Barack!) or a woman (thanks Hillary!) can’t be the thing she wants. I don’t want to put those thoughts in her mind by trying to teach “history”.

Does that little girl need to know? Maybe. But maybe some things are better left unsaid.