One of the prompts I offer during our memoir unit is “The first time I…” (NB: when working with high school students it is best to *immediately* complete the sentence with a few mundane firsts, otherwise minds tend to wander in directions that are, ahem, not compatible with the classroom.) It’s a funny little prompt because first times are, I have learned, simultaneously memorable and hard to remember. This is one of those prompts that sees students’ pens hover above their notebooks before they drop, scribbling furiously; their writing stops and starts then stops again; sometimes the ideas don’t come until the next day or even many days later.
Around the time I use this prompt, I often share a short memoir by Willy Conley which opens with a question about when he first realized he was deaf. This ‘first’ can perplex students. “How did he not know he was deaf?” they ask, and I have no ready answer. “How did you realize things about yourself?” I offer as a response, and we often physically look at ourselves. As I ask probing questions, students respond, “But I’ve *always* known I was a boy. I never realized it” or “I just *knew* I was Canadian; I didn’t have to think about it” and on we go, the discussion touching on aspects of their identity that they take for granted. Sometimes we are able to dig in; other times, I gently move the discussion back to riding bikes or ice skating. Physical firsts, it turns out, often stick in the memory.
Each semester, after the discussion, my mind inevitably turns to Zora Neale Hurston and the line in Their Eyes Were Watching God when, as a child, Janie sees a picture of herself and realizes she is Black: “Aw, aw! Ah’m colored!” she exclaims. The first time I read that line, I had to pause just like my students do now when confronted with Conley’s realization of deafness: How did she not know? And, of course, when I asked that question about Janie, I had to turn it on myself and ask “When did I first realize I was white?”
The first time I realized I was white was in high school Spanish class. Even though my southern school was intentionally integrated (by bussing), almost no Black students were in any of the “Honors” classes I took. I had finished up all the French classes the school offered and switched to Spanish my junior year. There I met Kiki, who was Black. Spanish was easy for me as it was not for her, and our teacher asked if I would help with her. Ever a teacher, I was delighted. We got along famously, but things were the way they were and there was no moment when getting along well would have had a chance to veer into true friendship. One time, as we worked, she said something about me being a “white girl.” I was surprised. I had heard people talk about “the Black kids”, but never “the white kids”. I had never really thought of myself that way, but clearly she did. My mind lingered on that thought for a minute, then Kiki and I went back to the Spanish work in front of us, a white girl and a Black girl, trying to figure out new words in a world that saw our skin color before it saw us.
Persistence and Pedagogy 
This is a very important concept related to sexuality.
I hear people ask, “when did you become gay or decide you were actually a man?”
Obviously you didn’t decide you were.
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Right? I mean, when did I learn that I was straight? Couldn’t tell you.
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Beautiful piece and so well written. It has me thinking about my firsts and the “firsts” I experience as a reader side by side with the characters in my books. Self realization seems to be the last thing we actually acquire!
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This past week I have been burning with the thoughtfuel from the phrase ‘to see ourselves as we are’. Your piece has just added a bit more oxygen to my fire. Thanks for the words.
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Amanda, that last sentence is profound. This not seeing us but seeing a category is the lived reality for POC each day. I was trying to think when I realized I’m white. I think it was when I was around seven, maybe younger, and saw a black boy and him mom on a city bus w/ me. I wanted to stare because I had consciousness of being different.
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I appreciate that you shared such a personal awareness moment with us.
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I can imagine the dangers of asking high schoolers about significant firsts. In elementary school it’s much safer to assume that they’ll stick to events like the first bike ride, first day at a new school, first movie, etc. It always seemed to be fertile ground in fifth grade. As for your realization about whiteness, I think, though I too was essentially in the south (D.C. area) mine came earlier as riots broke out in DC after MLK’s assassination. My mom had to explain why some people were sad but others were enraged. Me, I was scared.
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Your post really resonated when I read it this morning. I remember that line from one of our mentor texts. And the honest sharing that you do here is valuable as we share openly in these writing spaces – we bring light to the things we did not understand and I decided to use the prompt myself today. But what you did here takes a great deal of thought and craft – as Glenda points out, that last line is everything.
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The start of your racial biography for sure.
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Not only did you find some beautiful truths in here, but you quoted my most favorite of all books (and characters). The way that you captured the epiphany is so well done!
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I love this exercise. I wonder how my gifted students would respond. I recently asked a high school student how she got used to using they when talking about my former student who was she when I taught them. This student laughed and said she just uses they for everyone.
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Thanks for the reminder of the prompt and our privilege as white women. It is definitely a good one to get some conversation going in class.
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You go deep…like Peter mentioned about, when we use this prompt to generate ideas in elementary school we usually hear about bike rides and rollercoaster rides. Your question to yourself has me thinking too…
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In a nutshell, today’s entry from you reveals one power of slice-of-life writing. As you say: “touching on aspects of…identity that [we] take for granted.”
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Love this. Shows how intentional and reflective you are when choosing course texts and engaging students in meaningful & challenging discussions .
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