Weed

My classroom smells like weed. It does almost 3 times a week now. At the beginning of the year, I would run downstairs or call the campus police. At one point I went to talk to the teachers that are downstairs to plead with them to watch the stairwell. Today, I sat in class. The students don't complain anymore. It doesn't give me a headache as quickly as it used to. It has become a part of the routine.

This morning I was talking about the Black History program with my mentor, Mrs. Smith. She was saying we needed to get the paperchase (a dance started by this upstanding citizen named EP) out of the program and replace the ending with something more historical than people dancing. The question at the end is how can you help Blacks achieve greatness? What is your role? And before the students would dance and one side would look thug and the other side would be lawyers/doctors that are flashing money.

For a long time I have been a supporter of W.E.B. DuBois' theory (not the man) about how African Americans can advance. He basically says that they need to have higher education and the Top Ten percent (elite) of the AA community needs to reach down and pull their brothers and sisters up. However, education does not always mean money. This is a hard thing to swallow. Realizing just because I have a masters, I may not ever make 6 figures. Watching this dance mentioned before it broke my heart. There is a huge disconnect between those who have and those who do not. The gap is widening. It was the first time I thought maybe Booker T. Washington's (BTW) theory was more practical than DuBois.

I hope you enjoyed some of the black history in the last week of February. It's good stuff.

Happy Birthday DuBois.