I am finishing my third (or thirtieth or three hundredth) meeting of the afternoon when he pops in. He’s been “pushing in” to a class and thinks that maybe he’s stepping on the teacher’s toes just a little bit. I taught that class last semester and was grateful for every extra adult body I could get, but I trust his judgement. Maybe this new, young teacher has things under control; maybe she has a higher tolerance for high jinks; maybe she likes to have some space to teach by herself. Whatever it is, if he thinks he’ll serve the class better by stepping away for awhile, then that’s probably the right move. I, too, am finding that pushing in is complex.
He and I have only talked a handful of times, but we’ve already had several of those discussions that trip along from one topic to the next, our tongues flying and our hands gesturing. I don’t know much about him yet, but I already admire him. Today he senses my fatigue. “How’s that class going?” he asks. I take a deep breath.
I confess that we have finished unit 1 – Foundations – and are moving into a unit on history. I explain that I am drowning in information. I keep thinking of the title of an article I read in grad school: A Little Too Little and a Lot Too Much. I feel wildly uncertain. What is my next step? How can I honour student voice? How can I acknowledge what they know and what I don’t know?
He understands right away, and he points out – gently, politely – that I am too deep in my emotions and too light on academics. I shake my head: No. No. That can’t be it. I am a white woman teaching a course called “Anti-Black Racism in the Canadian Context”; I have to be aware of emotions and student knowledge and… “No,” he is saying, “no.” He can see through me. I am aiming for perfection. He laughs, “It’s just history. I know that teachers can be possessive of their classrooms, but…would you let me come tomorrow? This is my specialty. I am salivating at the thought of teaching this class.”
We talk. More than once each of us prefaces comments with “can I be honest here?” He finds the holes in the anti-racism that I hope permeates my soul but which I sometimes wear like armour. We talk about the dismal truth about the numbers of Black teachers in our board and our province. I tell him that I hope that someday I will not be teaching this class because someone more qualified will teach it. He reminds me that I am good enough even while he reminds me that I will never be enough. I push back, get frustrated and feel seen all at the same time.
We end up planning together – we are both committed to a pedagogy of inquiry – our ideas intertwine and the course takes shape again. When we pause he says, “I am a hugger. Are you a hugger?” and we hug because for now this course – which until today was taught by me, a white woman doing her best – will be team-taught by a white woman and a Black man who have found a way to disrupt the system that put us in separate spaces when we should be together.
Persistence and Pedagogy 
Amanda, I found myself smiling as you wrapped up the complex process of taking what we each have to offer and empowering our students by sharing our classrooms, thoughts, ideas, and knowledge. I work with teachers who often find team-teaching challenging and talk about the “dance” that makes a powerful team. Your students will be empowered by your decision to “dance.”
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What a wonderful gift! When we find that teacher who connects with us, good things can happen. Good luck with this unit!
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I am fist pumping over here. This is brilliant. This is the universe solidly saying “we’ve got this, friend. “
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What a fabulous, inspiring post! The back and forth of this conversation is so well rendered (a great balance of summary and exact dialogue) and the building positive energy is palpable. It’s so refreshing to read about this type of honest collaboration.
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It feels like you’ve found a marigold. I’m cheering for these people-“a white woman and a Black man who have found a way to disrupt the system that put us in separate spaces when we should be together.” 🙌🙌🙌
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I am so excited that you found this co-teaching relationship. It’s a great time to find a partner, and it sounds like this is the perfect partner for you at this time. I hope to hear more about how it goes. You have a gift for letting a story unfold, and for sharing the emotions that go with it. I’m glad you are back this year!
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What a great story and I’m so thrilled that you have someone to walk alongside with you. You deserve this and much more for all your hard and heart work. You are qualified and are the bridge to bring more into this work.
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I echo everyone’s comments. This is an inspiring post in a difficult time. I was struck by the title of the course, and I was wondering what kind of blowback we’d be getting here if we had a course with that title in our high school…not that I’m really all that familiar with the titles of courses in our high school…being an elementary person. It’s making me curious, though. I do think that might be one advantage of the lower levels. One, we don’t title our courses, and two, it’s a bit easier to plan together. I’m glad you have an honest partner/challenger.
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You have got this! I am so glad that you are not alone in this new and important class. You found a hugger, too!
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This post gives me hope. Hope in little bits, hope that gives me chills. This line, this line: “He reminds me that I am good enough even while he reminds me that I will never be enough.” I’m stunned and inspired by the honesty here, the ease and the openness in this burgeoning relationship. Thank you for sharing, Amanda! SO HAPPY YOU’RE HERE! YAY!
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Ever have the experience of showing up at an event and looking around excitedly for one or more particular others who’ll be there, too? That sense of excitement and anticipation? Cut to: Me spotting your name in a queue of slicers — and then reading that last phrase (“disrupt the system that put us in separate spaces when we should be together”).
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The ending is worth every syllable leading to it. I so wish I’d had the experience of working so closely w/ a TOC during my Idaho years. What a synergistic, paradoxical (not sure that’s the best word) collaboration. Can I zoom in and observe the next one? I’m serious.
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