If There Is a “Parental Bill of Rights” There Should Also Be an “Educators’ Bill of Rights”

Too often, American society accepts a one-sided debate that suppresses marginalized viewpoints

Yesterday, I attended a community workshop that was put on by the local school district. It was meant as an opportunity for administrators and the school board to get feedback from the general population. The event lasted from 8AM to 5PM and included breakfast and lunch.

In the past, I wouldn’t have attended something like this. But it’s been a year since a child was murdered in my community, and I’ve been making an effort to find more ways to positively influence the world.

Honestly, I was terrified as I took my name badge and sat down at my table. Would I be seated with a group of individuals who wanted to ban every book in the school library with the exception of the Bible?

I managed to stay at the meeting all the way until 5PM, but I left with a splitting headache that hasn’t gone away. Coincidentally, yesterday morning I received an email from a black educator working in Florida. She told me she’s used some of my articles in her classroom and thanked me for the work I do.

I thanked her in return, then I mentioned the meeting and my headache. She said that, as an educator, she goes to meetings all the time. However, the meetings are always structured so that the group arrives at the same conclusions and no progress is ever made. She admitted that she always leaves those meetings with a headache too.

Evaluating my own performance

I went to that meeting to be something of a voice of reason, but I’m not satisfied with what I was able to say. This wasn’t due to a lack of courage. I’m generally able to speak my mind. But I found the meeting was structured so that I never really had an opportunity.

Part of the reason I have this headache is that I’m frustrated I didn’t speak more forcefully. I shouldn’t be too hard on myself as it was my first meeting like this. It’s prudent to test the waters before you jump in. But I really wish I’d done more… I’ve been feeling that a lot in the last year.

I think a large part of the problem is that good people have conditioned themselves to think certain topics of conversation aren’t “polite” or “appropriate.” If you’re going to succeed in any form of activism, you have to find the courage to say what needs to be said.

The people at my table got nervous when I brought up these issues:

• Racism in our community
• Intolerance for the LGBTQ community
• The hostile nature of our general public discourse
• Disrespectful messaging such as bumper stickers with profanities

The burden on teachers

I understand that in order to survive as a teacher in the current environment, you almost have to train yourself not to have opinions on these things. We live in an era where threats against teachers have become far too normalized. We all know who is responsible for these threats, but educators aren’t allowed to name their attackers.

Above all, I didn’t want to make things worse for the teachers in my community. I didn’t want to go into that meeting and say a bunch of stuff that would be used as ammunition by radicalized groups.

What scares me is how so many teachers have trained themselves to flip a switch whenever a conversation goes somewhere that starts to scare them. Their faces go blank like they’re playing poker. They don’t know if you’re really an ally, or if you’re trying to get them to say something you can use against them.

This is terrifying when you think about it. Our teachers are constantly afraid of physical threats, and they’re also afraid of losing their jobs. The current reality isn’t healthy, and it’s not a good environment either for our kids or their educators.

Educators’ bill of rights

I did manage to say one thing that was, I think, useful. Only once during the whole meeting was I allowed to address the gathering with the microphone in my hand. I’d been assigned to summarize the discussion at our table after one exercise.

This role limited what I felt I was allowed to say because I knew my comments would be taken as representative of the group and not just myself.

There had been a brief mention of the various “Parental Bill of Rights” proposals that have been in the news lately. Although that sounds like an appropriate concept, the reality is that these bills can work as a form of censorship. In our current environment, good teachers are losing their jobs over false accusations of teaching CRT.

There has to be concern that any “Parental Bill of Rights” is only being used to give an inordinate amount of power to a perspective that does not represent community beliefs.

At my table, I mentioned that it’s not fair if 29 parents love the work of a teacher, but that teacher is fired because of the anonymous complaints of one individual. Also, I emphasized that with all the burdens teachers are currently expected to handle, it’s unfair to expose them to private meetings or phone calls where they’re screamed at.

Only one of the people at my table voiced agreement with this perspective. The rest gave me the stony look like this was something we “weren’t allowed to talk about.”

The reality is that education is under attack in our country, and ideas like the “Parental Bill of Rights” are making the job of our educators almost impossible. So, when I stood up to present, I said that we need to have more support for teachers. If there is going to be talk of a “Parental Bill of Rights,” then we must also address the other side of the issue and discuss an “Educators’ Bill of Rights.”

The response was absolute silence.

Come on… if that’s considered a controversial statement, then we should all be terrified about the direction of our country.

Evidence of some impact

We did a few more group activities. Later on, another group speaker mentioned the idea of “Employee Rights.”

The guy sitting next to me gave me a nudge and whispered, “Hey!” with approval. I think it was significant that the group speaker who mentioned “Employee Rights” was a teacher. But even so, I’m bothered by the fact that he had to “sanitize” the statement.

This represents the problem with the format of this community event. There was an unspoken assumption that everything had to be carefully worded so it wasn’t considered “political.” Therefore, we couldn’t talk about:

• Student fears about gun violence
• Educator fears about violence directed at them
• Parents screaming at teachers for trumped up reasons
• Racism in our district
• Bigotry against the LGBTQ community

It was just “easier” to keep these topics off the table. Even the good educators who were there got scared. Ultimately, that’s my takeaway from this experience. Our educators are terrified.

Our society expects teachers to stand in the line of fire to protect our children from gun violence, but nobody says, “Thank you for your service.” Instead, educators are attacked at every turn.

It’s easy to see why this is. Educators oppose ignorance. However, ignorant people are easy to control. Therefore, the power hungry see educators as the enemy.

I left feeling frustrated with my community and with myself

To me, the meeting felt like an effort to achieve the appearance of getting feedback. At one point, we discussed the changes we’d like to see in our school district in 10 years. I said that I’d like to see the district offer 5 years of high school, and I met HUGE resistance from a member at my table.

“Nobody wants that!” she said.

Also, in a room full of parents and educators, nobody said, “In 2033, the starting salary for teachers will be $160,000 a year.” They were all conditioned not to say something like that, even in a meeting that was designed to give the community an opportunity to share their thoughts.

If you’re being honest, it’s easy to see the source of the problems in the United States. One of the people at my group mentioned that the most accurate indicator of academic success is the income level of the family. Kids who grow up in poverty struggle. Kids from affluent families do well.

But we’re not allowed to talk about that, so our job is to come up with a bunch of nonsensical ideas that make it sound like we actually care.

In our effort to be “polite,” we’re sabotaging our ability to implement productive changes.

Minimal diversity

At one point, I took a look around the 100 or so people who had gathered for the meeting and noticed that the group was almost entirely made up of white people from more or less the same socioeconomic background. Originally, my wife had signed up to come, but a family member came for a surprise visit.

As I discussed this event with her, even she expressed concern that some of my comments might have made her feel targeted by the school district and the community. I don’t want to say things that make life more difficult for the individuals I’m trying to support.

I would have liked to stand up and ask, “So, did you guys deliberately schedule the meeting for people of color for another day?” I’m sure the organizers would have said, “We sent out the emails to everybody.” But that disregards the reality of the unstated message that diverse perspectives are not welcome. Even if this isn’t by design, we have a responsibility to recognize that sentiment exists (and dismantle it).

We need more outreach. We need to hear the perspectives of people that are struggling so that we can better serve them. If we’re sitting around making assumptions, that means we’re working on flawed information.

The sense is that you’re only allowed to come if you “behave” yourself. We always hear, “This isn’t the appropriate setting to address those issues.” But then the “appropriate setting” never seems to materialize.

I do believe our district is doing good work

I don’t mean for this article to sound like I’m slamming the school district. The issues at work here aren’t the fault of the district. These are social issues that impact everyone in our country. Overall, I think our school district is doing a good job.

At one point during the meeting, a woman stood up and thanked our district for its efforts to make our schools a safe space for members of the LGBTQ community. She revealed that she had moved to our area from Tennessee after doing research on schools that had a good reputation.

At that point, she became emotional and was holding back tears. I started to applaud, and I’m pleased to report that the whole gathering quickly joined in. By chance, I was the next person to speak after her, so as I took the microphone, I thanked her for her words.

Good people are willing to move in the right direction. They’re willing to applaud when somebody shows emotion. There’s cause for hope.

But I still have a headache because it’s so hard to make progress and it feels like everything is stacked against us.

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