ALMOST Broke Her

 

ALMOST Broke Her



We sat in the backseat as I watched tears pool in almond-shaped, chestnut-colored eyes, then stream down her bronzed caramel skin. It was her bounty of two-strand twists that helped divert my attention. Heartbreaking, silently, I repeated to myself, 'just breath.'

Twenty and a rising junior in college, she stayed on campus this summer, opting to maintain her independence, work, and reclaim a lost semester due to COVID.

The visit home was short yet filled with hugs, good streaming movies, food, laughter, and moments of reflection and forgiveness.

In between affirming her own tears, she proclaimed it was never her problem but her school's. And that there was not one adult, not even her parents, that fully understood and declared that, consistently enough.

I was aware that being the only Black student in her grade for many years and 'other' in a predominantly white school, K-12, would be a struggle. So I became highly vocal and visible. I built relationships, partnered, challenged, and demanded that my school be accountable, creating a community where Black girls and others among the numerical minority would thrive.

At the time, I believed in the potential of the C.A.R.E. program, teachers, and administrators (often her go-to during lunch and recess) and the lower school affinity group-SOCS to acknowledge her, make her visible.

As the years went on, she excelled academically & artistically while still struggling socially. We deliberately affirmed her humanity, beauty, brilliance, and identity as a Black girl. But still, I, along with others, managed to signal to her that if she just worked harder to win friends and influence people, she'd be happier. I regret that.

What I don't regret is enrolling my daughter in an independent school. Educational injustices and toxic experiences exist in public schools too.

My daughter is thriving and forgiving herself and others for thinking there was something wrong with her. She gave the institution her pain and beauty in a book of art & poetry (AFRO-dite, A Black Girls Guide to PWI's), and she continues to have social justice impact on her college campus, yep, another PWI.

My 'Baby Girl' is the dynamic individual she is today in part because of the institution. Because of her experiences (good and bad) in the institution, she is empathetic and a strong self-advocate. A confident leader and a critical thinker, she loves her skin, hair, body, and those who care for her fiercely. Her legacy continues to impact her alma mater. She is not a victim.

Admittedly, my guilt lingers over the educational choices I've made in support of academic excellence. I've supplanted them with a complete commitment to partnering for educational justice. We are self-assessing and shifting the status quo regarding culture and curriculum with fellow Black and Brown families, allied families, educators, and administrators.

We hold independent schools accountable to ensure the emotional and social well-being of young scholars of color and their peers' social and emotional development.

Instead of pathologizing our students, let's critique our schools. Let's be fully aware, showing up, speaking up, partnering, and demanding our institutions be committed to investing in DEIB&J practices -not just recruitment and programming, but policy too.

Enjoy the rest of the summer. We need all hands on deck this school year!

Onward and in community,

Gina,
mom, parent leader, advocate, RIISE founder

Originally posted in RIISE Newsletter