When my parents separated, I was eight years old and with the end of their marriage came a new neighborhood and school. I really liked the students at my school; the teacher and I, however, did not hit it off. She generally looked scared of us, she always looked like she just rolled out of bed, and she didn’t seem prepared for what she was teaching. Naturally, the behavior in the class quickly deteriorated and one day, I shared that until she started teaching, I’d be reading my book in the corner (I know, I know).
She didn’t say anything in that moment but later demoted my reading group. I had been in the advanced group where we read chapter books. Now, I was told to go and join a new group. I was surprised, and hadn’t noticed before, that most of the kids in this group were Black and Latino. The advanced group was all White and Asian and…me.Read More