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Monday, November 12, 2018

Moral Mondays CT is drawing that line in the sand against inequity


When the system is rigged to provide quality by Zip Code, when our own State Supreme Court Overturns Sweeping Ruling In CCJEF Education Funding Lawsuit.
" It is not the function of the courts ...to eliminate all of the societal deficiencies that continue to frustrate the state’s educational efforts." ~ Chief Justice Chase T. Rogers, wrote for the majority.

Equity is the target, our governors, our legislators, our courts, and yes we the people have failed to hit that target for over a 100 years, and generations of our Black, Brown, and Special Education children have suffered for our failure to do better by them.
In my humble opinion this failure in the richest state in the nation is a moral failure to do right by all children. The fact that this struggle needs to even go to the courts is a sure sign of an immoral education funding formula.

In a moral society, our poor children should not have to beg for fairness and justice,
In a moral society, Black children should not have to beg for fairness and justice,
In a moral society, Brown children should not have to beg for fairness and justice,
In a moral society, Special Education children should not have to beg for fairness and justice,
When children, their parents, and communities have to beg for equity, than the system is broken.
The goal is equity and justice for all children, it has always been the goal, and anything less is exactly what White Supremacy fight for 24 7 365.
Bishop Selders and Moral Monday CT are willing to call it what is it, and are moving to take that conversation public, and on the road.

My eyes are on the prize,
Dr. Jesse P. Turner (AKA The Walking Man)


Moral Mondays and Save Our Schools March in the house
Bishop Selders, Pamela Selders,
Bob George & Jesse The Walking Man Turner in DC @
 The WE CHOOSE 2018 Press Conference 


Moral Monday CT Education Ambassador If you like to hear the song that inspired my morning walk this morning...it's "Eyes On The Prize" Marvis Staples https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ZWdDI_fkns

Friday, September 7, 2018

Here's to Mrs. Stanfield, a tribute to a teacher who lifted every voice to sing.”



Teachers, its a new school year, a time for hope, a time for dreams, and a time to reflect. We all have our heroes, I have a few, a few who has helped me keep my head up high. A few who have given me a steady compass for Justice for all.
Many of my heroes were gifts from my teachers. I owe much of who I am to my teachers. James Weldon Johnson was an African American leader in the NAACP, educator, Lawyer, diplomat, poet, and songwriter who wrote "Lift Every Voice, and Sing", This is the story of how I came to know him. 

Today, I return to one of my dearest teachers. I want to share Mrs. Stanfield's greatest gift to me. Mrs. Stanfield's was my honor's English teacher in high school. Mrs. Stanfield was a Black teacher. She came from the south, and she came to save us all, knowing perhaps no one could. But, she was not some "No One", she was by all accounts what Maya Angelou called a Phenomenal Woman. Every student and every teacher knew it. There is no doubt in my mind that she saved more than most. She certainly helped to save this Walking Man, and she was the first person to suggest education as a career to me.

Every lesson, she taught was taught with dignity, honor, and hope. She heard, I had been at the 63 March on Washington, where Dr. King gave his "I have a dream speech". She came to take a special interest in me. She saw something in me, in my writings, in my questions and comments.

She saw, through the football player, and she saw through the ghetto persona. She saw the kid who hung out with some bad ones, who sometimes walked on the edge of trouble. She saw a boy with no father in his life. She saw a boy worth saving. She would set me straight, and she gave me a Justice Compass called James Weldon Johnson.

When she heard my grandfather went to glory, she understood I needed to talk about him. She called me up to her desk one day in the middle of class, said Jess come up here.
I want you to get your lunch today, and come eat and talk with me. I want to talk with you about life. We Ghetto boys did not eat with our teachers…I knew I would take some flack from the boys on this invite. I wondered what this was going to be about, but I did exactly as she asked. Flack, or no flack, everyone did what she asked.

At lunch, she said,
I heard your grandfather passed. I want offer you my deepest personal condolences. I had no idea what condolences meant…but, I would look it up later. I did have a deep sense she was being respectful. She said tell me, about what it was like to be at the March on Washington? I said, I knew it was important, but Mrs. Stanfield I was only eight years-old. I remember the ride, I remember the heat and I remember being tired. What I remembered most was my grandfather putting me on his shoulders as soon as Dr. King started speaking. I knew Dr. King was special in his eyes. I knew on that day, at that exact moment that Dr. King was special. Dr. King became personally special to me on that day.. I remember my grandfather kept talking about Dr. King on the ride home.
She said,
your grandfather must have been special, my thinking is he wanted you to hear and see hope in the actions of a living man...a just man. Your grandfather in view was a just man as well. She said, that day was special to America, and to Dr. King. But, that special day started long before that day.”
 
She, said
the way I see it things is that special day was born in the words of James Weldon Johnson. Have you heard of James? … James was hope and beauty walking on earth. Every educated Black soul knows his story. His mother wanted him to study English literature and the European musical tradition. He went to University, studied literature and music, fell in love with the old and new poets. Everything he would learn at the university. He would learn with the hope that the education he was receiving would lift his people. He was an educator, a teacher, and even a principal. You should consider education as a career. I see a little of James in you. You would make a fine teacher. Have you heard of Lift Every Voice and Sing?

No, but I am thinking you think I should… That, began her real lesson, the one not on the
Official Curriculum, but the Taught Curriculum”, her curriculum. She was carefully plotting what would become my Learned Curriculum”. She was aware of what Larry Cuban, our nation's Seminal voice on Curriculum meant about what students really learn. Like Dr. Cuban, she knew that official curriculum doesn't translate into what students actually learn.

I ate lunch with her for a week. I would learn  about Dr. King, Marcus Garvey, and James Weldon Johnson. We would study
 how "Lift Every Voice"…became a Black Nation Anthem…She said to me Jess, in my view...it's really a national anthem for all Americans… She was beyond any doubt a gifted educator.

I have heard people say…what is taught is not always learned, and what is learned is not always taught... Mrs. Stanfield
s lessons were often not on the Official Curriculum,” but you can rest assured her taught lessons were always the lessons her students learned. She would turn that National Black Anthem into an Anthem for all Just people. Justice was always in between the lines of her lessons.

So, teachers remember that the lines between what is taught and learned can only liberate learners if we teachers understand that “Official Curriculum” has no real power over the students we teach. The true teacher teaches outside those official cookie cutter standards.

Be bigger, be bolder, be like Mrs. Stanfield, and feed your students the heroes that lift every voice.  If the taught curriculum does not lift every voice? Then, it will not inspire, will not liberate, and it will be forgotten before the 3:00 School bell rings.

Lately, I have started saying I am an Old School Teacher aloud to people. I am an Old School Teacher, because I was schooled by Old School Teachers. I owe much those Old School Teachers who graced my life. 


Here’s to every Old School Teacher seeking to liberate and lift young minds.
Here's to my Old School Teacher, that 
Phenomenal Woman, the amazing Mrs. Stanfield. I remember every lesson you taught. I remember James Weldon Johnson…. 

“Lift every voice and sing
Till earth and heaven ring,
Ring with the harmonies of Liberty;
Let our rejoicing rise
High as the listening skies,
Let it resound loud as the rolling sea.
Sing a song full of the faith that the dark past has taught us,
Sing a song full of the hope that the present has brought us.
Facing the rising sun of our new day begun,
Let us march on till victory is won.” ~James Weldon Johnson 

Let every teacher in the land, lift every voice,
Jesse The Walking Man Turner
If you would like to know more about James Weldon Johnson, a good place to start is https://www.naacp.org/naacp-history-james-weldon-johnson/  

If you like to listen to the song that inspired me on my walk over the Avon Mountain this
morning...it was the cover of James Weldon Johnson song... "Lift Every Voice and Sing"
by the "Committedsings" 







Thursday, August 9, 2018

The fruit may fall further from the tree than one thinks



 I am an old school Civil Rights activist. I was my grandfather's tag along marcher in 63 at the age of eight. 

My father was a hater, a racist, an alcoholic who hated everyone and everything. We heard the N word every night in our apartment. Heard Faggot, whoa, bitches, wetbacks, and even the cursing of God. My mother did her best to say pay him no mind. She prayed every night I would be different, and God sent us my father's father. 

My father's father, my grandfather answered her prayers in the only way he knew how...by example. 
He challenged his racist son every day. He modeled love, humanity, and hope in his every step. 
My grandmother and mother would support his taking me...his namesake 8-year-old grandson to Dr. King's March On Washington. 
He never talked to me like an eight-year-old, he spoke to me as if I was his equal, a fully-grown man, he spoke to the man he hoped I would become. I chose early on to follow his words, and reject the hate coming from my father. I imagine many young White Children live in homes where racism lives, but where love can creep in. Everyone needs a humanity first hero, he is my humanity hero, everyone needs someone to talk to them not as a child, but as the person that they might become. 

Maybe my grandfather saw in me the chance to make right the conversations he should have had with his son? I'm not sure, but I was blessed to grow up with his voice of hope, love, justice, and humanity. 
I remember him explaining to me as a young man about Dr. King's 4 stages to determine between just and unjust laws. 
Here they are to the best of my memory: Four basic stages: 
1. Collection of the facts to determine whether injustices exist; 
2. Negotiation; 
3. Self-purification; and 
4. Direct nonviolent action against unjust law” 
I was old school educated, old school talked to, old school raised...
My grandfather said fathers don't choose for their sons, sons choose for themselves. My hope is young Jess you choose justice, love, peace, humanity. 

I choose that old man's old school Civil Rights stance every waking morning.
I stand my teacher-hood, my husband-hood, my brother-hood, my father-hood upon this rock of justice for all, 
I reject hate,
I reject us against them,
I reject any notion that America can be great without justice for all.

If I should die this night before this day ends, know I shall have no regrets and no fears. 
For, I have sided with love, and when all is said and done... In the next life, I shall again walk with that old man who taught me well, who fortified me well, and who left me a greater legacy of love bigger than hate.
Yes, I'm old school, and old I shall remain until that great uniting in the sky.
Jesse The Walking Man Turner

If you like to listen to the tune I listen to on my walk up Monadknock Mountain this morning it's "Ain't No Grave" cover by Jamie Wilson. 




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