Save Me a Seat?

While enjoying the sunshine at a local restaurant this past week, I took notice of who was at the table: my previous principal, vice principal, and VP's partner (I am not exactly sure what she does, but she is super smart, in a doctoral program, and prinicpaly-like), and me. What was I doing there?! There were moments, in my crazy-brain, where I thought to myself, "At any moment, these women are going to wonder why I am sitting with them!" When we parted ways, my head swirled with possibilities. "Could I be one of these women someday?" "Could I be a leader?" "No, no, that is too scary and down-right, silly, I can't even imagine myself doing the things these women do!""Amy Angell" and "leader" sound ridiculous together.

This last week has been strange - on THREE occasions, someone different has proposed the idea that I am a leader and that I need to become a principal someday. These things are preposterous to me. But I am at least letting them bounce around in my head, like a toy - dreaming of the possibilities, what it would all mean. Seriously, every time I am alone with my thoughts these last few days, I discover that I am daydreaming about what it would look like.

I googled a book that was mentioned while chilling with my lady friends, "The Will to Lead, The Skill to Teach: Transforming Schools at Every Level". I then got sucked into the rabbit-hole of internet research. I eventually found myself looking at books on the topic, "Women in leadership", and found some interesting and thought provoking websites, books, articles, and workshops. One book that stood out to me was, "Lean In: Women, Work, and the Will to Lead". The author is a Facebook COO, has done a TEDtalk, and is Forbes #6 Most Powerful Women. I wanted this book, but thought I'll get it at Powell's when I am there next.

Then the day progressed, I ran errands (while continuing to daydream about being the "one in charge"), met my sister. We decided to go to a rummage sale at In Other Words. While wandering around picking up children's books for my classroom, Lean In, jumped right out at me! It was across the room, yet caught my attention, as if the book was yelling at me. Needless to say, despite the new release, hardcover sticker-price, I purchased it. I believe it was fate, and ignoring this kind of divive intervention would certainly come back to haunt me!

While in the car waiting for my sister, I opened the book, and was immediately drawn into it. Reading the introduction was a swift reminder of all the women's studies courses I took as an undergraduate. The waves of emotions I had during those classes swept over me again, as if I was right back there, learning about the reality of women here in the United States, and around the world. I couldn't wait to get home and read more (nerd alert!).

The 2nd chapter, Sit at the Table, is what has inspired me to write today, and dear reader, I promise we will get to the point soon!

A little background: I am a woman (I'd hoped this was obvious, but just so we are clear), I am a first generation student, I have a BS in Psychology, and a MS in Inclusive Education, and I have been a teacher for 6 years. I was asked in May of my senior year of high school, if I had thought about college (it should be known that most of my peers were being talked to by the "guidance counselor" in October about their college plans). I just assumed, and correctly so, that if I wanted to go to college, it would be up to me to figure it out. As a teen, my manners didn't find me, and I simply laughed at her when she asked me about my plans, and I told her I had figured it out. She then asked, "Oh, so where will you be working after high school?" "You must have misunderstood me," I told her, "I am going to college, and I will finish, and it will have had nothing to do with your guidance!"

Long story, short - I had completed my graduate course work, was part of the honor society for teachers, and now sat in a room getting ready to take a state exam for my teachers license. When the exams were passed out, I just lost it. I started crying, right there at my desk. I was so scared. We were given 4 hours to complete the exam (was it 6 hours? I don't know, it was an eternity). Between bouts of sobbing, thinking, and bubble filling-in, I completed the test. I was one of the last people in the room. As I left, I was sure that I had failed. I was certain that I would have to go through that grueling process again, like so many of my friends, like so many of my professors told me. Yes, they told me not to be surprised if I didn't pass my first try (even they assumed I wouldn't pass). Waiting over the next few weeks to find out was horrible. I kept looking at new test dates and times. I remember opening the email that contained the results, it said that I had passed!! What?! This had to be a mistake. I kept reading it over and over, certain that I had read it wrong, so certain in fact, that I even called to make sure that a mistake hadn't been made. There was no mistake, I passed, on my first try.

What is the point of all this? Well, in the 2nd chapter, Ms Sandberg, explains the "Imposter Syndrome". Reading these words struck me hard, "[I always feel like a fraud], instead of feeling worthy of recognition, [these women] feel undeserving and guilty, as if a mistake has been made, that someone soon is going to find out who they really are - imposters with limited skills or abilities." I cannot emphasize enough how I ALWAYS FEEL THIS WAY! Reading on, she explains that women explain away their own success by "insisting she did well because she "worked really hard," or "got lucky," or "had help from others". I have done this very thing, over and over and over again. It is IMPOSSIBLE for me to simply say "thank you", when someone compliments the work I have done in the classroom - I shrug it away politely saying that it "takes a village" or "we have all worked so hard", or "I could never have done it without the support of other teachers." And while ALL OF THESE THING are true, no where in the conversation, or even in my head do I acknowledge myself, moreover, I am wondering when they are all going to find out I truly don't know what I am doing?! I mean, did I even use the word "moreover" correctly?

To finally feel that I am not the only one who feels this way, is incredibly validating! I am surrounded by these amazing women, and I cannot imagine joining in their ranks. Perhaps, this is a very small step in the right direction? I don't know, I am just excited that these fabulous women wanna hang out with me! They make me feel smart, they make me use my voice, I feel that they care what I have to say. Even thinking those things, I am so unsure - do they really think this way about me? Do I really have important things to say? Do I really know what I am doing?

I want to sit at the table, I think, maybe, hopefully, I have a seat waiting for me. If not, ladies, will you save me one? I think I might need it.

My Privilege

Like many of you, I am disheartened by the Trayvon Martin case. It seemed pretty clear to me that George was guilty of at least manslaughter, given the "Stand Your Ground" (SYG) law. But to be acquitted on all charges, seems not only wrong in a legal sense, but more so a moral sense. Sure, our courts are made of laws, which is an important distinction to make. However, SYG as a defense in this case doesn't hold up. George pursued Trayvon, that was his choice. Even if Trayvon attacked him, because he likely was scared, George was a grown man, who made a choice to profile a black kid, and then shoot him when he supposedly felt his life was in danger, therefore George was protected by law. WHAT?! I call bullshit.

At that moment, the state of Florida made George Zimmerman: Judge, Jury, and Executioner. A grown man, packing a loaded gun, who was asked to "stand down" by 911 operators, took it upon himself to hunt Trayvon. Is this what America is? Have I turned a blind eye towards this virus of racism and hate? How can this still be happening?! And if anyone thinks this isn't about race, think again, and while you're at it, consider yourself infected with the virus.

Which brings me to my main point of acknowledging my own white privilege. Is is said privilege that made me think that George would be found guilty? I mean, I am so dumbfounded at this verdict! I think of the little black boys in my class, who grow up in a world, where a grown mad of lighter pigment may profile and hunt them down, and ultimately murder them. I am embarrassed to say, that I thought those days were over. How shameful for me to be so blind.

It agonizes me to think that my friends, colleagues, neighbors, all those with children whose flesh is darker than my own must tell their children to play in the backyard with their nerf guns out of fear of what the cops will think (yes, this is an actual friends story). That they must tell their children to stay inside after dark, because their mothers don't want them shot in the moonlight. How do we teach personal pride and safety at the same time?! How do we, as a nation, look into the eyes of our young black and brown children, and tell them that their country cares about them? What a joke! This ruling made it clear, that if you're black, and especially if you're black and young, you're disposable.

A sad day for America. We can do better. We must do better. If we want a better place for all our children, we must confront our privildge as white men and women - I don't have to worry about my babies playing the front yard. I don't have to be scared for my life and be taught the proper way to handle police, when I am pulled over. If a black man ever shot a white baby of mine, they would certainly be in jail. I or my white friends can have a gun if I choose, and no cop or court would find it suspicious. My white friends can smoke weed and be called hippies, while Trayvon was called a thug for the same thing. These are things I get simply for being of a paler complexion. There are many, many, more privileges I enjoy as a white person that would simply take too long to list. What is the point? The point is, that until white America faces its deep seeded racist virus that runs through her veins, nothing can get truly better. It is systematic, it is painful, but it must be done.

I pray for America, I pray for my white, brown, black, and everything in between friends. I pray for George Zimmerman, for I was taught to pray for my enemies. And I mostly pray for Trayvon Martin's Mother and Father, and for the rest of his family. I am sorry that America failed you. I am sorry you had to bury your child. I am sorry.