This summer should have been a summer of stasis. COVID19 grounded us, kept us home, slowed things down and denied us many of our usual summer activities. Instead, I’ve found the summer to be one of growth. The slower pace – sometimes maddening – meant that I had time to spend thinking, reading, and talking in ways I often don’t. (Ok, and also way too much time online, but such is life.) In particular several groups of educators came together to learn and think deeply about racism. Yesterday marked the end of one of these book clubs (we read Kendi’s How To Be an Antiracist) ; Thursday will mark the end of another (we are journaling through Saad’s me and white supremacy). A third, focused on fiction, ended a week ago.

I also spent the summer all too aware of Tre Johnson’s cri de coeur: “When black people are in pain, white people just join a book club.” (His article is excellent.) As a result, I have been reluctant to write about the book clubs, though I have written about my own understanding of racism and anti-racism. I’ve been worried – as I am almost always worried when it comes to anti-racism – that the book clubs are not enough.

But I also *need* to write about this because writing is one way that I make my thoughts concrete. I need to be open with other people about what I’m learning and how it is changing me. I need to be public in my commitments to dismantle our racist society. (And it is racist. If you’ve read this far & you don’t believe that, feel free to get in touch & we can talk.) I need to have on record that I am going to take the racist novels out of our bookroom NOW, that I am going to insist that teachers in our English Dept develop an understanding of why #ownvoices matter and learn to engage those voices thoughtfully, that I am going to speak up about racist actions in my workplace.

More than that, I want to acknowledge that these book clubs are leading to change in myself, my colleagues and our school. Teachers are committing to changing their curriculum – African history will be taught this year, for example – and to speaking up about who gets to take which classes and how discipline is enacted. We are holding each other accountable for making change, and this has come about because of hours of reading and discussing in, yes, book clubs.

After yesterday’s book club ended, I found myself thinking about how our group has moved to action over the course of the summer. The more I thought, the more a poem formed. So here’s a draft for today’s Slice of Life:

We are in
a backyard near the pool,
the white concrete firm under our feet
as we tentatively reach
for cool slices of watermelon.
The pink juice sweetens our understanding.
We talk to each other
for the first time.
No one swims.

We are in
a backyard under the tree,
an empty house beside us
as we lean in.
Surrounded by a privacy fence,
we talk to each other
for hours.
The rain pierces the canopy
that shelters us.

We are in
a backyard in the sun.
The black dog roams between us
as we recognize
racism.
Alarms blare: tornado warning.
The clouds build;
the wind blows;
the rain begins.
We commit to action
and leave to prepare
for school.

Thank you to Ibram X. Kendi for his book How to be an Anti-racist which inspired a summer of discussion, a developing group of allies, and a commitment to action this school year.