1. Understand that their life experience will never ever be the same as yours

This can be said for all of the students you teach. Age, culture, and gender are all impossible intersections for teachers to traverse simultaneously. But for black boys, this understanding becomes explicitly pronounced. Our black boys look markedly different from society’s predescribed male. The stories they have already heard about themselves capture obscure destinies such as the athlete, the entertainer, and the criminal. And oh yeah, that one-off president that, for youth born after around 2005, is now an afterthought. Don’t pretend to be able to put your feet in the shoes of a teenager growing up in 2019 who has had to watch Trayvon, Mike Brown, Tamir Rice, Alton Sterling, Eric Garner…on and on, all get shot and killed by police, and then have to wake up and go to school the next day. Internalization of what the world means to them is a real thing that happens. And for black boys, they may not know how to precisely articulate the subtle notion that their lives seem to be worthless, but they damn sure see and feel it. So err on the side of understanding, at the least, of that.

  2. Accept their cultural nuances

When you ask De’Marious a question and he responds by saying, what? or huh? don’t get upset and harshly correct him. He “ain’t” responding to you that way to signal a sign of disrespect (unless he is – and in that case he’s super intelligent and you need to foster that). He’s asking you “what?” because that is how he talks, because that is perhaps how he has learned to communicate. Pump your brakes Mr. ExuseMeHowDareYouDoYouNotHaveAnyManners? Maybe “Pardon me?” simply isn’t part of his lexicon. And really, who cares? You are there to teach math and things like that. He’ll learn socially acceptable conventions and how to use a knife and fork properly outside of school, hopefully. Customs and social mores are not things for you to assess and chastise. I learned that I should put my knife and fork together to signal to a waiter that I’m finished my plate at like 25 years old. Some of y’all reading this just learned that right now. So chill on the expressive scolding of particular behaviors that may differentiate from yours. 

3. Validate the importance of Hip-Hop

You do realize that black males created hip-hop, right? And whether or not you like it – your kids do. Hip-hop may be the most tangible act of self-determination in our “post modern” era. And black boys created that shit. They did it all after school, and maybe sometimes during school but nevertheless, the act of creating a universal artistic artery within our modern culture deserves some kudos. So put some respeck on that name. Validate that fact in your classroom. Instead of analyzing two novels in the year; analyze one and then pick an album (actually, let your kids pick), and run the same learning back with that as your “text”. Don’t worry about the extra work and new photocopies, you can ask the same questions and expect the same analyzation of Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp a Butterfly as you can from Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird. 

Teaching black boys is real simple, people. I wrote 3 things that you can do but I could have written ten. Regardless of the amount, all would have inevitably come back to one main theme. And that is the realization that while you are teaching, there is a black male child sitting in your classroom, trying to listen to your lesson but also being subconsciously compounded by the fact that we all don’t value him as an intelligent, capable and unique individual. So start with that. If you are able to do so, you may not even need to read this list. 

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Most do not understand. And for the many that do, the ability to articulate its implications is limited. Simply put, Black boys are set up in a way that is meant to deceive and ultimately fail them in the long run (no pun intended). Let me give you a scenario: a young Black male, somewhere around the age of 8 (yep, that early) to 17 or 18. He is in a class somewhere in New York City, or Chicago, or downtown Toronto. He receives a grade back on a test. He gets a C. So what? He is expected to get that C. His friends do not look at him any differently for getting that C on the test. In fact, he is even more so accepted by his peers for his lack of performance. What’s even worse, if he got an A, he might be faced with even more subjugation and questioning by his friends. He will most likely be made fun of by his dearest friends who chastise him for “acting white”. So what? Truth be told, his teachers, do not expect him to do any better than the grade he “earned”. They do not see him as the type of person who is earnestly concerned with his grades or his education. He, for whatever reason, is viewed as being more preoccupied with his “appearance”, his friends, and his social standing than his grades and future. So what? He gets a C. Who cares? It seems like nobody does. It seems comfortable to all the parties concerned. No complaints, no issues; it fits the script and we all continue on living our lives. And the Black male, subconsciously, is internalizing this. So what? This is what I ask because this is what is precisely the problem with our school system and the Black identity.

Black males are meant to fit into specific molds and are held to specifically lower standards. So when we meet these standards, everyone accepts it. Acceptance is even met by the Black boy who, in his heart, is upset with his grade, so next time he studies and does well and gets an A. But most likely his teachers subconsciously write it off as a “one off” and still maintain a certain ideal of this body. And his friends, even worse, poke fun at him for trying to be someone else. So where the hell does that place him? What, exactly, is he supposed to do? He is stuck, trying to be validated but the naivety of adolescence combined with scripted social identities leave him in no man’s land. This is the real problem of Black males in our school.

Black boys are stuck in the perceptual battle for identity every day they walk into school within our country, specifically in major cities like Toronto. They want to be accepted, simple as that. But I am sorry to all the parents out there who are trying to impart wisdom and do right by their Black children when I say that, at a certain age, friends come first. We were all there. What our friends did, acted like, and thought was far more paramount than what any elder could impart on us. What any new rap or hip-hop song preached about will continue to be way more impressionable than what any “teachable moment” could provide a Black boy at school. This is the truth, and this is coming from a young Black teacher. Getting into the mind and understanding the Black perspective has been so elusive simply because many Black boys never grow to the level of being able to understand and critically reflect on the scholastic systematic pressures that we experience before it is too late. Being represented more inside the school through literature and the curriculum is important, but it is not the spine of this existing crisis of Black boys in our school system.

Many things need to change. In the media, we are represented. Oh yes, we see ourselves and we are represented. But we are represented in a narrowed light. We are represented on Saturday afternoons while watching college football. We are represented on Sundays when we watch the NFL. We are represented throughout the week when we see LeBron James on a fast break or Kobe Bryant on the low block. We are represented every time we turn on the radio or step into our ride and listen to the latest bangers being produced by frontrunners of our culture. All of these representations of the Black identity we see are communicating notions of our identity. Black bodies. And also, how can we forget? We are represented when we turn our TVs on to the news channels and update ourselves with the latest crimes that have occurred in our city. With those identities cached together in some fashion or the other, we watch ourselves on television programs being represented by this, that, or the other. So we essentially have three entryways to follow: the athlete, the entertainer, or the criminal. That offers very little wiggle room in our school system. What else does the Black boy have to look up to? The problem of Black bodies is not one of representation (although, that would help). It is one of changing our perceptions of what we can become despite the culture that we choose to roll with. It is about developing an understanding that you can be cool, wear tattoos and earrings, and dress the way you want and still do well in class. That comes from the Black student’s side. But it is also one of opening our minds as teachers by crushing assumptions and accepting different notions of identities of how the Black body can exist and what its potential may be. It does take two to tango, we are all intertwined and cooperation between both parties is the key to defeating this challenge that Black males face in our school system.

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I grew up in a community where the majority of people were minorities. I had an eighth grade teacher whose motto was, “Take what you need, need what you take.” He told us that everything we needed to learn from school we learned in kindergarten – don’t steal, treat others the way you want to be treated, and cooperate. This teacher had a fundamental impact on my schooling and my life, and as a teacher now, I think back to his lessons as I try to impart wisdom on my students. But, I have experienced friction in my experiences as a teacher, especially when I am educating black boys. If you think you know where I am going next – you’re wrong.

I have had friction regarding educating black boys from other teachers. The way I communicate with them is a tad bit different than the way some other teachers do. These kids may share the commonality of having a similar shade of skin, residing in the same residential neighborhoods I once did, or even liking the same music. But that is where the similarities usually cease. The reason why I get along with these students better is because we both understand a shared culture – urban culture. But you don’t have to be from the “hood” to understand and validate positive urban culture.

Other teachers will come tell me the reason why I connect with black students is simply because I am black. The fact that I connect equally with white students is completely ignored by them. In fact, their argument collapses behavioral attitudes into fictitiously self-generated cultural myths. The fact that some teachers would hold an opinion that black teachers connect better with black students and leave that belief to idly dangle in the air indicates precisely what is wrong with how black students, and black boys in particular, are being educated.

I don’t connect with black boys because I too am black. I connect with black boys because I understand that their skin tone is not the determining factor in their potential, interests, or outputs. In fact, we connect because we both share this sentiment. Skin color is not mute, but it does not impede. Quite simply, it is not because I am black – it is because I care.

My eighth grade teacher connected with us, us black kids. He was an Irish man with a long white beard. Every “black” kid in the school loved, protected and respected him. He connected with us because he spoke to us without the veil of predetermined judgment. Don’t take this sentence out of context, but he taught us like we weren’t black (that sentence alone, I will acknowledge, is deeply troubling and in need of critical dialogue). Black boys don’t need a black teacher to guide their ways (although they do need to see more black male teachers). Black boys need love. So when I teach black boys and connect with them – it is not because I am black. It is because I care.

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