USD Just Read! Student Essay Contest - Winning Essays

Between the School and Me: An Analysis of Equity in Public Education

As sociologist Pedro Noguera stated in his book The Trouble with Black Boys, public education is a remarkable, ambitious endeavor to educate all American children and to turn no one away (Noguera, 2008). Public education has been championed as a place where each student has an equal chance to succeed, but public schools frequently fall short of these expectations. As Ta-Nehisi Coates reveals in Between the World and Me, students from traditionally marginalized groups, particularly black students, suffer the most in public education (Coates, 2015, p .25). Although reforms and policies have been introduced, these do little to significantly close the achievement gap, elevate schools, and transform the lives of marginalized students (Castagno, 2014). To address this, a growing number of researchers and educators are dismissing the concept of equality in public education and are instead focusing on equity (Castagno, 2014). This essay will discuss and defend the quest for equity in public education and several necessary steps to achieve it.

Education is just one extension of American life that reflects the prevalence of whiteness. Whiteness is a socially constructed racial identity that stems from white privilege and power, and one of its primary advantages is that it can remain virtually undetected at both a societal and individual level (Feagin, 2013). Sociologist Joe Feagin attempts to explain the prevalence of whiteness through what he calls the white racial frame (2013). The white racial frame is an established American cultural implication that “white” is synonymous with “normal” so that white culture remains largely unarticulated yet dominating. People of color are thus required to be aware of their own racial identities and how they relate to whiteness so that they can adjust and adapt, which is incredibly burdensome. Coates’ concept of the Dream parallels the white racial frame (2015). The Dream is Coates’ way of articulating white privilege as a product of violence towards, exploitation of, and exclusion of black and brown people (p. 8). He states that African Americans have less because white people have more, which results in violence, fear, and almost paralyzing inequity for black and brown communities (p. 8, 11, 90, 91). Whiteness is clearly not a natural phenomenon but an ongoing process of the powerful exploiting the powerless.

Because the Dream and the white racial frame are fundamental in American life, many institutions, including public education, are steeped in white privilege and minority inequity. As overt racism falls out of fashion and buzzwords such as diversity and colorblindness gain societal traction, American education has attempted to integrate these principles into policy. However, education researcher Angelina Castagno argues that these initiatives and the schools that execute them rarely live up to these idealistic reforms (2014). Instead, they tend to entrench whiteness by addressing equality, not equity. Educational equality, the idea that each student has access the same opportunities, is different from equity, which provides students with individualized resources they need based on the contexts from which they come. Equality upholds whiteness by promoting the myth of meritocracy, or the belief that anyone can succeed if he or she works hard enough. Although work ethic is important, educational equality and meritocracy dismiss students’ cultural and socioeconomic backgrounds and their unique needs. Ignoring these plays into whiteness by forcing marginalized students to adapt to “normal” classroom culture where teachers speak and teach white literature, history, art, humor, and speech (Nunn, 2011). Students of color are thus at a disadvantage, as they are being educated in an environment that mandates assimilation. Conversely, equitable education adjusts to students, making it more sensitive, inclusive, and catered to students regardless of their background.

Public education, particularly in urban communities, is often marked by inequity. Those benefitting from the Dream have the power to secure the best schools, teachers, and resources, and they can use school boundaries to keep these resources to themselves. Indeed, urban education is increasingly segregated and lacks the funding and quality present at predominantly white, wealthy schools (Noguera, 2008). Even at schools with more integrated student bodies, the needs of white, upper middle-class students are prioritized over those of minority students (Castagno, 2014). For example, English Language Learner (ELL) classes can be cut and replaced with a larger selection of AP and honors courses. Black and brown students are overrepresented in remedial classes and underrepresented in AP and honors classes, and they suffer once more so that the privileged can have more opportunities (Noguera, 2008; Coates, 2015 p. 11). This is clearly an ethical breech, as inequity based in whiteness is rooted in racism. Coates proposes that “racism follows race” (p. 7), and racism in the forms of discrimination and violence establish the Dream (p. 8). Education is often regarded as a catalyst towards advancement and opportunity, and withholding it from marginalized groups to increase and solidify the privilege of another group is not only unethical but condemnable.

Educational inequity has devastating, lasting consequences for marginalized groups. The condition and potential of future generations of entire ethnic and socioeconomic groups are at stake, which can affect the future of America as a whole (Noguera, 2008). Noguera stated that the failure of black students is normalized and expected and that they are disproportionately disciplined. In fact, he cited a study by Peshkin in 1991 that suggested that black students are underrepresented in all domains that involve student success and overrepresented in domains that involve failure (p. 103) which has significant implications for the opportunities awaiting these students after school. Coates, who wrote about many of these consequences and his educational
experiences, saw little meaning in his time at public schools and felt they shackled his mind instead of freeing it (p. 25). In a damning critique, he asserted that the schools he attended had “no time for the childhood of black boys and girls” (p. 25), that he did not connect to the curricula, and that he questioned the point school altogether (p. 26). Although this problem culminates most prominently in the lives of the marginalized, the stakeholders in educational equity include everyone. From students to parents, educators to administrators, and policymakers to communities, we are affected by public education in some way. Inequitable education can do nothing to bridge the achievement gap and improve the lives of the marginalized. We have a responsibility as a society to promote educational equity so that everyone can succeed and use their education to better themselves.

Solving educational inequity requires advances on many fronts that include immediate solutions in schools, changing overarching educational policy, and challenging the private beliefs of the privileged. Firstly, teacher training and culturally responsive curricula can lead to immediate advances in equity. Coates criticized both inaccessible teachers and curriculum in his educational experiences (p. 26), which reflect the sentiments of many marginalized students (Noguera, 2008). To combat this, culturally responsive education, which generates an environment that welcomes the perspectives and traditions of all students, can increase education’s relevance (Noguera, 2008). Additionally, because the demographics of urban public-school teachers and students are discrepant, cultural and age differences can be bridged if teachers are encouraged to learn about their students’ backgrounds (Noguera, 2008). Secondly, educational policy must be overhauled so that well-intentioned but ultimately whiteness-enforcing policies are replaced concrete action that promotes equity. This could include less of an emphasis on standardized testing (a strong body of evidences suggest that these tests are biased towards white and Asian-American students) and school desegregation initiatives such as bussing. Finally, and arguably most challengingly, the beliefs of the privileged must be confronted. Although Coates is less concerned with changing the minds of those who believe in the Dream, he acknowledges that the marginalized cannot completely free themselves through their own efforts (p. 96). The privileged often live in ignorance of their privilege, and Coates’ criticism that they would “rather live white than live free” (p. 143) is troubling. Ending inequity requires those of us with an advantage to recognize and surrender it for the good of all, which is an incredibly difficult task. Indeed, these solutions require tremendous amounts of effort, money, and time. However, the resulting justice and empowerment that they bring is worth the cost.

To conclude, I want to emphasize the potential in public education and to acknowledge the incredible progress and effort that is made daily in public schools. I am not condemning the public schools or educators, but rather the systematic inequity that underlies societal structures and manifests in the educational experiences of marginalized students. Although it is unfair to view education as a social panacea, it has the potential to be an incredible asset, source of empowerment, and catalyst for students to realize what they are capable of. Promoting educational equity is difficult and messy and will sometimes fail. But it is worth it. The stakes are high. And the time is now.

References
Castagno, A.E. (2014). Educated in whiteness: Good intentions and Diversity in Schools. Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota.
Coates, T. (2015). Between the world and me. New York, NY: Spiegel and Grau.
Feagin, J.R. (2013). The white racial frame: Centuries of racial framing and counter-framing. New York, NY: Routledge.
Noguera, P.A. (2008). The trouble with black boys: And other reflections on race, equity, and the future of public education. San Francisco, CA: Jossey-Bass.
Nunn, L. M. (2011). Classrooms as racialized spaces: Dynamics of collaboration, tension, and student attitudes in urban and suburban high schools. Urban Education, 46(6), 1226- 1255.

Educational Inequities: The Hypocrisy of America’s Educational System and its Role in
Continuing America’s Historic Oppression of Minorities

In its national anthem, America proclaims itself “the land of the free and the home of the
brave.” From its inception, America has touted itself as a country providing freedom and justice
through democracy in which “all men are created equal” and are “entitled to certain unalienable
rights” (US Declaration of Independence, 1776). Yet America has constantly contradicted itself
on these values of freedom, equality, and justice that it ostensibly holds most dear, casting them
aside for economic interests, political and societal power, and fear of the “other.” Just as
Ta-Nehisi Coates emphasizes a historical epistemology as essential to understanding how
America’s progress has been built on oppression of the black body, so will I trace the “looting
and violence” Coates refers to in Between the World and Me from its roots in early America to
the continued systematic oppression of African Americans in the twenty-first century,
specifically as seen in the American Public School system. By unproportionately depriving
African Americans of equal opportunity to quality education in America, the current educational
system of the United States furthers the systematic oppression of the black body in America.

Throughout its history, the United States has contradicted the values of freedom, justice,
and equality that it ostensibly holds most dear, and it continues to do so today. This
contradiction is not accidental but rather the intentional creation of a system that privileges one
demographic over another, allowing one group to prosper off of the suffering of another. “White
America’s progress,” Coates points out, “was built on looting and violence,” as can be seen in
the history of indigenous Americans, African Americans, various immigrant groups, and the
poor (Coates, 6). This oppression extends beyond American borders, such as was the case with
U.S military intervention in Central America during the Banana Wars of the early twentieth
century that, enabled by the Monroe Doctrine, led to the deaths of thousands of farmworkers to
protect American business interests. It was the same case in Asia during the bloody U.S. war
and occupation of the Philippines in 1899, and such oppression continues in outsourced U.S.
labor that exploits millions of workers in foreign countries today. As Howard Zinn writes in A
People’s History of the United States , “The quiet acceptance of conquest and murder in the name
of progress is only one aspect of a certain approach to history, in which the past is told from the
point of view of governments, conquerors, diplomats, leaders” (9). From this stems the purpose
of this essay: to shed light on the historical oppression on which American progress was and
continues to be built and which is quietly furthered by discrimination within the the American
educational system today.

African Americans are denied equal opportunity in the public educational system of
America, a move which sequesters them back into the cyclical oppression of poverty, crime, and
incarceration that they have faced unproportionately for decades. In denying the core social
justice principles of equity and access as they pertain to education, African Americans continue
to inherit a legacy of suffering at the hands of American Empire. Although segregation of
America’s schools was deemed unconstitutional in the 1954 Supreme Court case Brown vs.
Board of Education that famously ruled that “separate is inherently unequal,” such racial
separation and inequality prevails today. A Center for American Progress report titled Unequal
Education reveals that “Almost 40 percent of black and Hispanic students attend schools where
more than 90 percent of students are nonwhite,” and “The average white student attends a school where 77 percent of his or her peers are also white” (Spatig, 1). In this way, schools continue tobe largely defined by race. How, though, is the uneven racial composition of schools a basis fortheir inequality? The answer comes down to a single word: money.

Property tax revenue has traditionally made up a significant slice of school funding in
America and causes wealthy districts to have better funding for their schools. At the same time,
poorer districts have disproportionately high numbers of minorities due to unequal wealth
distribution by race. According to a September 2017 report by the U.S. Federal Reserve, “ Black
families' median and mean net worth is less than 15 percent that of white families, at $17,600
and $138,200, respectively” (Dettling). This unequal wealth distribution by race means African
Americans are more likely to live in America’s poor, underperforming school districts than their
white counterparts, and the same is true for Hispanic, Native American, and other minority
groups that share similar statistics. During the USD School Choice debate this past September,
University of Wisconsin professor and educational policy expert Harry Brighouse emphasized
that “The federal government and certainly many state governments have a long history of being
bad choosers [of schools] for poor children, and in particular of being bad choosers for children
who are not white” (Moe). It is truly the case that the tax-based manner in which school districts
are funded has historically and continues to suppress educational opportunities for poor, African
American children. Yet quality of education discriminates racially not only at the level of
district funding but also within districts themselves. “Variation [of per-pupil expenditure] within
a district,” the Center for American Progress notes, “is largely due to district budgeting policies
that ignore how much money teachers actually earn” (Spatig, 2). The report continues to explain
how Title I of the Elementary and Secondary Education Act requires districts to provide
comparable services to both low and high poverty schools without accounting for teacher
salaries. This means lower salaried, inexperienced teachers who are thrown into overpopulated
minority classrooms are equated with high salaried veteran teachers who often choose smaller,
less needy, and wealthier classrooms. In this way, funding within districts is allocated
unproportionally to African American students, denying them educational equity. Both at and
within the district level, wealth and race based discrimination continue to plague the education
available to poor and minority students in America, maintaining their unproportionally large
numbers in poverty and furthering their oppression within American society.

Through an insightful personal perspective In Between the World and Me , Ta-Nehisi
Coates delineates how the schools are designed to further the destruction of the black body.
Reflecting on the quality of education in his poor, predominantly African American community
he states, “To be educated in my Baltimore mostly meant always unpacking an extra number 2
pencil and working quietly...Algebra, Biology, and English were not subjects so much as
opportunities to better discipline the body, to practice writing between the lines, copying the
directions legibly” (25-26). Baltimore’s underprivileged schools were not designed to foster a
place of high intellect and thinking, but rather “they were hiding something,” he states,
“drugging us with false morality so that we would not see, so that we did not ask” (26). By its
design, the educational system seeks to oppress African Americans through inferior educational
opportunity that either disciplines them into an oppressive system or condemns them to the
streets. Coates views the schools and streets as “arms of the same beast,” since “those who
failed in the schools justified their destruction in the streets” (33). In other words, the school
system pretends to help African Americans without actually educating or empowering them,
instead either disciplining them to live within an oppressive system or opening the door to their
destruction in the streets. Coates’ narrative detailing his experience in the underprivileged
schools and neighborhoods of America is powerful evidence of how the school system works in
conjunction with the streets to oppress the black body.

Although there is not one simple solution to solve this ongoing oppression, school
choice--allowing students to attend schools outside their district--can provide a step towards
equity and access in America’s educational system by empowering disadvantaged students with
educational options and incentivizing excellence in schools. In USD’s School Choice debate,
Stanford Professor Terry Moe emphasized how wealthy families will always find good schools
with their resources, while poor families remain trapped in underperforming school districts
(Moe). Therefore, giving disadvantaged students options can improve both equity and access to
quality education. Monetary equity is also improved with school choice as each student’s
attendance allocates the same amount of government funding to the school attended. In that
way, school choice also incentivizes schools to attract and retain students with their good
performance and resources.

It is clear that the history of the American Empire has been, and continues to be, built off
of the oppression of certain demographics for the prosperity of others, as seen with African
Americans being denied equal opportunities within America’s educational system. Yet studying
America’s historic oppression allows one to be cognizant of continued injustices today and
advocate for equity and access for the future.

Works Cited
Coates, Ta-Nehisi. Between the World and Me . Spiegel & Grau, 2015
Dettling, Lisa J, et al. “Board of Governors of the Federal Reserve System.” The Fed - Recent
Trends in Wealth-Holding by Race and Ethnicity: Evidence from the Survey of Consumer
Finances , Board of Governors of the Federal Reserve System, 27 Sept. 2017.
Moe, Terry and Harry Brighouse. “ DEBATE: Is School Choice Good for America's Students?”
USD Center for Ethics, Economics, and Public Policy, 27 Sept. 2017, San Diego,
California.
Zinn, Howard. A People's History of the United States . Longman, 1980.

Your Life is Insignificant: Education and the “Dream”

For many African Americans, a historically black college university (HBCU) provides a unparalleled opportunity to learn about black history in an environment that celebrates their culture. In his book, Between the World and Me, Ta-Nehisi Coates narrates his experience of being black in America and highlights the relationship between American society and the destruction of black bodies. He illustrates how the racist structures in American society affect him and the concepts that keep black Americans oppressed; the most important being the “Dream”. According to Coates, the Dream is “perfect houses with nice lawns. It is Memorial Day cookouts, block associations, and driveways” (Coates 10/198). Unfortunately, this Dream does not pertain to him or any black body. Moreover, the education dictated to Coates in his youth only served to further subjugate him and remind him of his insignificance. Therefore, Coates sought out an all-black education at Howard University to try and create his unique Dream. However, soon Coates began to realize that enlightenment was synonymous with despair. He states, “It began to strike me that the point of my education was kind of discomfort, was the process that would not award me my own special Dream but would break all the dreams” (Coates 22/198). Coates’ reflection is especially astounding because he realized his HBCU education would shatter all dreams and expose him to the harsh reality that black Americans encountered since their transport to the Americans. This dilemma is one that many young African Americans face, myself included. In primary and secondary school, young African Americans do not have the luxury of learning of the great achievements of those before them. Instead, we are taught that our first introduction into American society was in chains, only knowing captivity. While trying to learn about our ancestry and culture, we end up being exposed to a history of violence and oppression, therein breaking the promise of the Dream.

For Coates, Howard University was more than an institution; it was placed that facilitated black thought and success. Like young black Americans today, he was captivated by the vibrant community of young African Americans, referred to as “The Mecca”. Although he attended Howard, he was formed and shaped by The Mecca, distinguishing the two by describing The Mecca as “a machine, crafted to capture and concentrate the dark energy of all African peoples and inject it directly into the student body” (Coates 33/198). While on campus, Coates was excited to learn about the history of his people considering his primary and secondary education in Baltimore only served to “drug students with false morality so that they would not see” (Coates 25/198). This is an issue pertinent to many African American children that is dangerous if left unresolved. White children are taught that they can pursue any interest because the notion of the “Dream” actively works in their favor. Since young black children are taught a history of oppression, violence, and subservience, they relate that education to their life outside of the classroom. This begets violence in their own communities, leading to gang recruitment and withdrawal from their institution. However, Coates sought to escape that cycle, deeming it necessary to attend Howard. He hoped to achieve his own special Dream, replete with “his own Tolstoys who lived deep in the African past, where they authored operas, pioneered secret algebra, erected ornate walls, pyramids…,” separate from that of white Americans by thinking that “he must mirror the outside world, create a carbon copy of white claims to civilization” (33/198). However, instead of being awarded his own Dream of a “black race”, his education exposed him to the cruelty of African American history. By learning about the struggles that African Americans faced, he realized that “to be black and beautiful was not a matter for
gloating and did not immunize us from history’s logic or the lure of the Dream” (36/198). This is an especially damaging idea to instill in young children because it stunts their ambition and forces them to be aware of the system working against them. Therefore, upon graduation from high school, most African American students apply to and enroll in a historically black college university. They seek to regain the history they were deprived of in their youth. Still, Coates leaves Howard with a sense of enlightenment that causes him to be wary of every Dream. Although he withdraws from school, Coates believes that education is an important privilege that should be utilized. He insists that true knowledge of the way the world operates helps to dispel the fallacies upon which racism is built.

Coates’ experience with education relates to mine as a young, black woman today. Throughout my primary education, we learned of the horrors endured by African slaves, never really celebrating black achievement unless discussing pivotal figures such as Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. or singers of the Harlem Renaissance. The instruction I received seemed to stress the insignificance of black bodies, illustrating only times of oppression and subjugation. As my high school professor showed the class a picture of a southern lynching, I remember asking myself: why? Why was I forced to look at these images of the constant degradation of black Americans? While my non-black classmates emerged from the lesson with notes of Jim Crow south, I only understood one thing: my life is insignificant.

Like Coates, I believed in the Dream until the year before I began high school. I remember the exact period I was awakened from the Dream: during the Trayvon Martin trial. During those months, I followed the case religiously, analyzing the events that transpired and the motives behind it. While watching endless news pundits argue about terms I had never heard of such as “profiling” and “race relations”, I followed along and engaged in these conversations with my classmates. I was not aware of how deeply racism was embedded in the American justice system until Trayvon’s killer was acquitted. Like Coates, I began to search for answers to the injustice shown during the trial, and resultingly became exposed to the constant prejudices that African Americans must deal with. Merely twelve years old, I became aware of my skin for the first time in my life. I felt weighed down by everything I learned, wishing that I could revert to blissful ignorance. However, I was awakened from the Dream and could not return. Instead of enjoying the false “American Dream”, I realized that Dream was not a possibility for black bodies. As stated by Coates, this is because “the Dream does not exist without racist injustice, as material prosperity in the US is inevitably tied to the exploitation of African Americans” (Coates 40/198). Therefore, in order for all bodies to enjoy the Dream, the racist system bolstering American society must be dismantled. However, systemic racism is so deeply embedded into our society that it will be almost impossible to extinguish its oppressive force. The driving point of Coates’ book resonates within every African American: being black in America is ordeal that consumes your every move. Since learning of the various racist forces that keep African Americans subdued, I now understand the anger and fear that many other black bodies feel. Microaggressions that were once innocent to me, took on another meaning as I increased my knowledge of race relations. Now, I am fully aware of what it means to be black in America.

Ta-Nehisi Coates’ Between the World and Me, illustrates an America that thrives on the destruction of black bodies. Through his education at Howard University, Coates expands his knowledge of how history has systematically broken black bodies to uplift themselves, which results in Coates losing all faith in having his own Dream. Similarly, I lost hope in the Dream during my adolescence and experienced a similar awakening to Coates. However, we should not despair. A simple solution to the hopelessness that young African Americans experience is to
redesign how black history is taught. Instead of telling black children that their first real impact in society was that of bondage and slavery, instructors should highlight the beautiful aspects and movements that contribute to their culture. In restructuring classrooms this way, there will be an increase in black entrepreneurs, activists, and leaders. By telling young African Americans they can pursue their life interests, certainly they will seek to do so. To provide a meaningful education in accordance with positive encouragement, the violence in black communities will decrease and lead to a change in the way African Americans conceptualize the society around them. Yet, we should not remain blissfully shielded in the Dream. Like Coates, our experiences have transformed us into people that are wary of all Dreams and nations, an important truth that allows us to understand and address injustice in our society and lead to change.