Dr. James Whitfield

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The Impact of Black Male Educators

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To kick off Black History Month this year I’d like to share some insights on two Black male educators. Both have played a pivotal role in the trajectory of my journey to become a member of the next generation of Black male educators. Richard Bacon and James Johnson.

The research is clear, Black male educators can make a significant impact on the academic and social-emotional outcomes of students. In fact, studies have found that black male students who have a Black male teacher are more likely to graduate high school and less likely to be suspended or incarcerated (Fryer & Levitt, 2004). Additionally, Black male students who have Black male teachers are more likely to feel seen and heard in the classroom and to feel like their experiences and perspectives are valued (Gorski & Taylor, 2011).

As someone who has dedicated my life to public education, I have always known that education is one of the most powerful tools we have to create a more just and equitable society. I have seen firsthand the importance of having positive role models and mentors who look like us in our lives and in our communities. 

Unfortunately, despite the clear benefits, Black male students are far less likely to have Black male teachers than their peers. According to a report by the National Center for Education Statistics, only 2% of teachers in public schools are Black men, despite the fact that they make up around 7% of the population (NCES, 2018). This is not accidental, it’s systemic. 

I know there will be some who will read this and say “Wait a minute. What are you talking about? You made it, didn’t you? You even moved up the ladder to be principal at 3 different schools.”

To that I’d say:

  1. Think about what you just thought. Because I “made it” doesn’t negate the fact that Black male educators still only make up roughly 2% of the teacher population. 
  2. A systemic issue does not magically disappear because an individual may have achieved a certain level of success. The individual likely only did so by navigating the system with the help of those 2% who found their way in.
  3. Read part of my journey outlined below to catch a glimpse as to how this systemic underrepresentation manifests itself and who, in my story, helped me break into that 2%

Becoming Coach Whit

In the summer of 2005 I set out on my search for a place to begin what I considered to be my dream job at the time – a high school teacher and basketball coach. When I tell you I applied all over the Dallas-Fort Worth metroplex (TX) trying to find a job I mean ALL OVER THE DFW. 

The few opportunities I got to interview in districts in Northeast Tarrant County were unsuccessful. On one particular occasion I interviewed for a position as a middle school teacher/coach at a school just miles from where my wife and I had settled down in a little apartment in North Richland Hills. As I arrived at the school, the principal, an older White gentleman, greeted me and walked me over to his office. Things seemed to be going pretty good throughout the interview. It was very much conversational.

However, things would turn quickly. As we neared the end of our conversation the principal sat up in his chair and rested his arms on the table. Then he struck a very serious tone. He began, “Now James, I just want you to be aware of something. You’ve probably seen the demographics of this school – it’s predominantly White, right? I just want to let you know that, should you be the selected candidate, it’s ok…the guy you’d be replacing was a colored fella, as well. And he didn’t have any problems.”

I sat in my chair, absolutely astonished. I thought:

In the Year of Our Lord, 2005, did this man just call me a “colored fella”? 

Am I being punked right now? 

What on earth is going on? 

There is no way in the world this man is hiring me – and I honestly don’t know if I want to work for him.

And then he quickly switched gears to talk about the process moving forward. I asked a few questions at the end of the interview, then left. I never heard back from this principal. As was the case in the few other interviews I had in the area, which so happened to be with White principals. 

The most common theme of the denial responses was ”not the right fit”. One of those principals who gave me that as his rationale back in 2005 is now the superintendent of a school district in NE Tarrant County who’s district has a whole NBC podcast dedicated to them, highlighting their mishandling of reports of discrimination. I only wish I had the courage to ask for a bit of clarification about that “fit” back then. But, as fate would have it, Black men would be the people who took the first chance on me stepping into the career I’d always dreamed about. 

James Johnson

With my brand new teaching credentials in hand, I found myself as a pest control technician for a local company. My search for a teaching/coaching position continued. My little brother was going to be moving in with us to begin his sophomore year of high school and I thought back to what my father always used to tell me – “take what you get til’ you get what you want.” I definitely didn’t want to be spraying for bugs and, in no way am I discounting that work that people do – it just wasn’t what I’d busted my tail through college to do. I wanted to be a Social Studies teacher and basketball coach.

As luck would have it, I reconnected with one of my high school basketball coaches, James Johnson in the summer of 2005. Coach Johnson was one of the few Black men I ever had the chance to encounter throughout my entire k-12 school experience (there were a total of 4). Not only was he my coach, pushing me towards greatness on the court, he set an example as a father and husband. He held me accountable in the classroom and instilled confidence in my ability to lead. What Coach Johnson did for me and so many of my classmates furthered the  passion that lied within me to pursue education as a career. I wanted to do for kids what he and so many had done for me.

When we reconnected he was the Head Boys Basketball Coach in Rockdale, TX and was in need of an assistant coach. With prospects drying out here in North Texas I went down to visit Coach and interview with the Athletic Director. Rockdale is a sleepy town of roughly 5,000 people, a little bigger than the small towns in Central Texas that both my mother and father’s sides of the family were from. 

I remember driving around town before the interview, which took me all of about 15 minutes. As I drove I reflected on what this would mean if I accepted a role in Rockdale:

My wife, Kerrie’s, business was just beginning to boom as she’d finished school and she’d be unable to relocate.

I’d be leaving my wife, kids, and brother in North Texas as I started my career and I’d commute back and forth when I could.

I’d be coaching everything under the sun at this small school, so being able to get back home with any regularity would be extremely difficult.

All that said, I would be making a significantly larger amount of money than I would spraying for bugs.

With Kerrie, the kids, and my brother on board, we were going to make that sacrifice, should the opportunity come.

I met Coach Johnson in the gym at Rockdale High School for a tour of the campus. Reuniting with him in such a way was so surreal – a true full circle moment. He was as I remembered – calm, collected, assuring, and full of faith in me. I was his guy. 

We went to visit with the AD and, in a matter of about an hour, it was a done deal. I’d been offered the role as a teacher/coach at Rockdale High School. I drove back that afternoon, conflicted over the decision. I knew my family was supportive, but the thought of being away from them for extended periods of time made me sick to my stomach. Literally, I stopped along the access road of I-35 on several occasions to release my anxieties.

Nonetheless, it didn’t do unnoticed that the first person to put their neck out for me was a Black man. I reflected on all my experiences up to that point in my search, all the “colored fellas” and “not the right fit”. Eventually, I came to rest in the fact that it is what it is. I decided to be grateful for the opportunity that was presented rather than sitting in the bitterness of those denials. I went back to spraying for bugs and prepared for the day that would soon come – my journey to Rockdale, TX.

Richard Bacon

In the spring of 2005 it was decided that my little brother, Michael, would come to live with us. My Grandmother had done an amazing job filling in the gaps for us when our mother passed in January of 1997. She’d been through so much since she retired in the late 80’s, losing my grandfather and her baby girl. While Mike was an A-Honor Roll student and amazing young man, it was just time. Additionally, Mike wanted to play basketball/baseball in a larger city and North Richland Hills was much larger than Itasca. 

The school he would attend was Richland High. As I began my research, I saw that the Head Coach was Richard Bacon.  He was a legend in Texas High School Basketball, having won two state championships with perennial powerhouse, Dallas Lincoln. I wanted to meet this guy I’d heard so much about in basketball circles. Additionally, I wanted to know the man who would coach my baby brother, so I reached out and connected.

His response was swift and I took a day off to go and meet him at Richland High School. As I pulled up, Coach Bacon stood outside the gym waving me over. I walked up and was immediately embraced in what most know of as the “bro hug”, then we walked upstairs to his office. We sat and talked for what seemed like hours about basketball, life, and the area, which I was relatively new to at the time.

As our time was drawing to a close he asked me “so what is it that you do?”

I responded “well, I want to do what you do – make a positive impact in the lives of young men.”

I went on to share my struggles to find a role in the area and the opportunity I’d been offered. He listened intently and validated what I’d been feeling throughout the journey. He encouraged me to keep my head up, continue looking, and let me know he’d keep an eye out for opportunities in his network and let me know if anything came up. After another “bro hug” I left Richland High School feeling a bit more at ease about my circumstances. 

Having the opportunity to speak to someone who understood what I was up against – someone who wasn’t dismissive of what I was feeling – left me feeling hopeful about however my story would unfold. If nothing else, I’d met a wonderful mentor in Coach Bacon. 

I put my head down and continued my role as a pest control technician. If you know, you know. It isn’t the most fun job, but I was doing what I had to do to help pay the bills. But there are always those days in any role where you just feel done. Whether it be the work, itself, or the people you’ve interacted with throughout the day – you’re just DONE. 

This was one of those days. It was mid-July. It was hot. And I was done. After a long day, I pulled my company truck into our spot at our apartment complex. I shifted into park, and just sat there, staring straight out the windshield. Before my mind could begin to drift, my cell phone started ringing.

I grabbed it and looked at the number. I could tell the number had to be from a school district. Those of you who have been in this school job hunt situation know what I’m talking about. Those numbers just scream “ANSWER ME”. I didn’t know who it was but I was definitely about to take this call.

I answered, “Hello, this is James.”

The voice on the other end of the line said, “Yes, is this Coach Whitfield?”

Pleased to hear the “Coach” in front of my last name I responded “yes, this is he.”

The caller went on “Well, Coach Whitfield, this is Coach Bacon at Richland High School. I just had an assistant coach accept a head coaching role at another school and have an opening. Didn’t you say your certification is Social Studies Composite?”

Trying my best to hold back my excitement I responded, “Yes sir, Social Studies Composite.”

Coach Bacon then said, “Good, that’s what I thought. I have a role for you at Richland High School if you’re still looking.”

After all the hell I’d been through I was having a hard time believing what I was hearing.

I replied, “Yes sir! I’m definitely interested. When do you need me to come in for an interview?”

The next words he uttered I’ve carried in my heart since, “Coach, you interviewed the day I met you.” A great reminder that first impressions are so very critical.

Impact

And, just like that, the whole trajectory of my life changed. I called Coach Johnson and let him know how my circumstances had changed. Those in hiring positions know how much this call can rain on your parade. But Coach Johnson was who I’d come to know him to be – that guy that always spoke life into me. He congratulated me and expressed how happy he was for what this would mean for my family. 

I let him know just how much I appreciated him taking a chance on me. We vowed to remain connected as our journeys continued to unfold. 

Over the next seven years I was able to do that which I’d sought out to do, teach and coach. As it turned out, after our first year in 05-06, we’d go on to win numerous district championships, play in prestigious tournaments, and make it to the state playoffs year after year. I was able to teach so many wonderful young people and work with amazing colleagues throughout the course of my time at Richland High School. None of which would’ve happened without Richard Bacon, a Black man, taking a chance on another Black man and speaking life and power into him.

I’m a better educator, man, and leader because of these two phenomenal Black men! They represented possibilities for me in a world that had largely dismissed me as “not the right fit”. They saw me, heard me, empowered me, and encouraged me. Ultimately, their mere presence, at various points in my life, helped push me defy the statistics. 

All students deserve a Coach Bacon and Coach Johnson, yet they make up less than 2% of the teaching population. Along my journey I’m consistently see the systemic barriers along the way that deny students access to such educators. We must address this disparity to ensure all students have access to diverse and talented educators to help them reach their full potential. This requires investments in teacher training and support, as well as intentional outreach and recruitment efforts to attract and retain Black male teachers.

To all the Richard Bacons and James Johnsons out there – I hope you know your value and worth. We love and appreciate you. I hope you know we see you for the great impact you make in the lives of our youth. We hear you. We see you.  Thanks for giving me a chance to give as you have. I carry your strength, resilience, and love with me as I try to make a difference for kids.

Weekly With Whitfield – Purpose

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At the end of each year I tend to land on a word I want to intentionally focus on throughout the year. But as the calendar flipped to 2023, I struggled to land on that “one word” yet. There were so many that bounced around my mind. So up to this point in the year, with each passing week, I’ve chosen a single word  as a reflective practice to capture the vibe for my week. Until now, I hadn’t quite been able to land on a word that one word. 

And then, through several conversations with educators, school leaders, school board members, and non-profits this week, my word suddenly appeared. As we discussed the current state of public education I couldn’t help but think back to the fall of 2020. I’d just become a high school principal at this time and I reflected deeply on what really pushed me forward in such a trying time. 

In doing so, I landed not only on my word of this week…but for the YEAR:

PURPOSE

To explain, I’d like to take you on a journey back to August of 2020. Those serving in education, or those with students in schools, likely remember what we faced during those times. There was so much uncertainty surrounding what school would look like. Daily, we faced a logistical circus that kept us running in circles. The list of questions was endless:

  • How are we going to ensure every student gets a great education no matter if they are in-person or remote?
  • How are we going to train every staff member on a new learning management system to ensure quality lesson design and delivery?
  • How many teachers are out today?
  • How many members of the admin team have to quarantine?
  • For each class period, where will we relocate classrooms when a student leaves class with COVID-19 symptoms?
  • Where are the students that have not shown up either in-person or remote?
  • Is the entire Tennis, Football, Basketball, etc team out in quarantine?
  • And, believe me, the list goes on…and on…and on…

We began the year with all students learning remotely for the first 3 weeks of school, then transitioned to a blend of remote and in-person learning for students. There was a ton of anxiety for educators. While we desperately wanted to regain a sense of normalcy, our entire world was flipped upside down. 

Similarly, parents and families faced the uncertainties of how their students would be educated – the how, where, and when. Unprecedented times became a phrase we’d all quickly grow weary of. We had a deep desire for something, anything, that resembled normalcy. But it seemed as though the normal ship had sailed.

While what’s described above was chaos and, what most would agree, the hardest years we’d seen in public education to that moment in our lifetimes – what was behind that desire to get it right? What pushed me forward as all the questions flooded in?

It was that deep sense of purpose:

To be a relentless champion and advocate for young people and the amazing adults that serve them daily. 

Building environments where students, staff, and families feel loved, seen, heard, valued, and trusted. 

Ensure that every student who walks through the door each day, regardless of race, religion, socio-economic status, gender, or any other categorical demographic, has access to a world-class, equitable education. 

Partnering with educators to ensure they have the support, professional learning, encouragement, and requisite tools to provide students with a dynamic, excellent learning environment. 

And when your purpose is strong enough. When there is so much on the line, this is where I’ve found my walk in my purpose to be the strongest. The fall of 2020 was just the next set of challenges thrown in my path. 

Throughout life’s journey I’ve been presented with a great number of challenges. But it was in those moments of chaos, when faced with what seemed to be insurmountable obstacles, that I was able to continue to step into my purpose. That’s not to say that it is always easy. It is not. 

Undoubtedly, every distraction will come your way. Just because you’re pursuing your purpose and doing what you feel is great work doesn’t make you immune to the noise. Some of that noise will be innocuous, and some will be very intentional to steer you away. Either way, be aware of the noise that does not serve your purpose. Remember, oftentimes, when it gets noisiest is when you’re making the greatest impact.

Surround yourself with people who inspire and support you in your pursuit of your purpose – people who act as guardrails to keep you centered and focused. I have been so very fortunate to have several wonderful people who’ve helped guide me over the course of my life. None more critical than my loving wife, Kerrie, over the past twenty years. She has been my rock, standing so firm in moments where I felt lost. I truly don’t know where I’d be without her steadfast support, belief, and encouragement. 

As you continue your journey in 2023, I encourage you to remain steadfast in your commitment to your purpose. For it is in your walk with purpose that you will find the most fulfillment. I wish you peace, joy, and purpose-filled days in the weeks to come. 

Weekly With Whitfield – Pain

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This week has been a tough one. It marked two dreaded anniversaries of moments that disrupted my life in major ways. One being the loss of my mother 26 years ago, when I was 18 years old. The other, the loss of my grandmother, affectionately known as “Ma”, 2 years ago, when I was 42. 

One moment, a young boy. The other, a grown man. Regardless of the stage of life, the sting was much the same. Pain – a deep, searing pain that left me lost and frustrated. These marvelous women were both such profoundly positive forces in my life. And then, in the blink of an eye, they were gone.

Each year this week brings that painful, stinging sensation rushing back to me. Every mix of every emotion imaginable envelops me at various moments. While nowhere near as debilitating today as the days I lost them, it still strikes sharply. There was a time, not so long ago, where I tried to push the pain down deep, pretending as though it didn’t exist. I tried to convince myself that all I needed to do was shift my mindset towards joy and hide the pain. 

But, this week I want to stretch and, maybe, challenge your thinking on the role pain plays in our lives. Over the course of time I’ve come to realize the fact the pain exists reveals the enormous forces each of these phenomenal women were in my life. If there had been no love there’d be no pain. The pain exists because love exists. As Garth Brooks famously sang “I could’ve missed the pain, but I’d have had to miss the dance.” The two are inseparable. 

Far too often society tells us to pretend to be ok when we’re not – to tuck the pain away. We hide in the cloak of toxic positivity to mask the pain for fear of looking weak. We’re hiding in plain sight. We become numb to the feeling of putting our fears, anxieties, and deepest concerns on the back-burner for fear of judgment and work to be ok on others’ timeline. But what we resist, persists. We must find ways that work for us to embrace the pain and resist avoidance strategies that have been hardwired in our psyche to neglect it.

On both days this week, I say quietly each morning in prayer and meditation, allowing myself the space to center specifically on the pain. Facing it and pulling it inward provided protection from the avoidance strategies laying in wait to hijack my well-being. This protection allowed the freedom to pour into my purpose as a husband and father throughout the week. Instead of being consumed by it, I consumed it to create fuel for my purpose.

But here’s the thing – this is your journey. Not a single person reading this will navigate their pan the same, nor have the same timeline. But I encourage you to feel it. Don’t run from it. As the poet, Rumi, said “the cure for pain is in the pain.” It is my solemn hope and prayer that your pain sparks purpose and that your purpose carries forward the legacies of those you’ve loved and lost. 

 

Weekly With Whitfield – Warmth

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A common saying here in Texas is “if you don’t like the weather, wait a minute”. Truly, you never know what you’re going to get. But on a couple of occasions this week we’ve either broken, or neared, our record high temperatures for January, hitting the mid-80s. The unusual warmth for this time of the year has been nice. 

However, while the weather was nice, it was really the warm interactions with people that really lifted my spirit throughout the week. I spent meaningful time with loved ones. There were moments of reconnection with friends and colleagues who offered encouragement, insight, and support. Additionally, there were opportunities to connect with new friends from across the country who welcomed me to share a bit about my personal and leadership journeys. Each of these warm interactions made a profound impact on my week’s outlook. 

This past weekend my daughter, Lauren, mentioned she wanted steaks this week. If you know me, you know…when my baby girl asks, pops does. Heck, she’s 21, got a boyfriend, a full time job, and about to start her final semester of college, so any time she wants to spend with dear old dad, I’m on it! And, as if that wasn’t enough, my oldest son, Jordan, and his wife’s calendar were open to come through, as well. Talk about feeling all warm and fuzzy! My Dad heart was full!

In preparation for our dinner I had to make a trip to our neighborhood grocery store. I hurried through the aisles, gathered the needed items, then arrived at the checkout. As I began placing my items on the belt I heard  “Hey there, my brother. How are you doing today?” 

I didn’t have to look up. I knew that voice. It was Mr. Steve, one of the familiar faces who’s there most every time I go to the store. There he stood with his long, white beard and warm, welcoming smile. I’ve visited this store dozens of times since we moved into our neighborhood back in the summer of 2020 and, without exception, every time I encounter Steve it’s as if I have reunited with a long, lost friend. He stands out and instantly engages:

“You stayin’ out of trouble today?” 

“How’s the family doing?”

“You gonna be able to get all that on your own, young man, or you need a little help with that?”

“Brother, I hope you have the most amazing day. Stay safe out there.”

Often these interactions are taking place as he pushes carts back in the store or bags groceries – never too busy to engage with those around him and share a warm, genuine, welcoming word. Steve provides more than a function to customers as they come and go from his store. He provides affirmation and confirmation to them. His words and actions signal “I see you. You matter.” His actions are warm and sincere.

Undeniably, we all know a Mr. Steve – a person we interact with in our local community or on the job on a day-to-day basis. They’re warm, friendly, genuine, and sincere. They’re engaging and magnetic. They see us when we may feel as though we’re just passing through life in an invisible cloak. They notice the small things and make us feel special. 

We all hold the power to share that warmth and kindness to others as we navigate our days. Ultimately, it doesn’t cost a thing, but can be so powerful. You just never know when sharing a bit of your warmth may provide shelter for someone who’s in a dark, cold place. 

Undoubtedly, there will be days when it feels like you have no warmth to give. But my hope and prayer is that in those moments you’re able to cross paths with a Mr. Steve – someone who’s able to warm and uplift your spirits to help you through. 

Warmest of wishes to you this weekend and in the upcoming week!

(Challenge: We all have a Mr. Steve in our lives. This week make a point to simply let them know how much you appreciate the warmth and kindness they share with you and others.)

Weekly With Whitfield – Care

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As the first week of 2023 comes to a close I’m reminded of how we, as a people, have the capacity to overcome, focus on the greater good, and embrace what connects us all – our humanity. I know, I know. Some of you went there – Ummm, James, are you paying attention to what is playing out in the halls of Congress?

Yes, I assure you, I am. As you might imagine, that’s not what has inspired me this first week of the new year. And that’s what I’d like to focus on here – that which has inspired me. Undoubtedly, we have challenges to face in our democracy, but what I’ve seen in our humanity is what has spoken most loudly to my soul.

A word that has been on repeat in my head throughout the week has been CARE.

What Does it Mean to Care?

When we care about someone or we provide what is necessary for their health, well-being, and protection. We aim to do right by them, so as to avoid danger or harm. They’re important to us and we have a genuine level of concern for their well-being. We do whatever is necessary, at a given moment, to ensure their needs are met. 

Truly, one of the most kind things we can do for another person is show them care.

We saw a beautiful example of care on national display Monday night. After a pretty common tackle made by 24 year-old Buffalo Bills safety, Damar Hamlin, he rose to his feet, then collapsed seconds later. It was the scariest sight I’ve ever witnessed in sports. Within seconds, medical personnel rallied to Damar’s side to provide this young man with the care he needed, as Damard had gone into cardiac arrest. In this state, the heart is no longer pumping blood. Without blood pumping, no oxygen is able to travel to the brain or other vital organs.

Every. Second. Matters.
A large group of football players kneels in a circle on a football field, as fans watched from the stands.
Bills players and staff kneel in prayer for injured player, Damar Hamlin. Dylan Buell/Getty Images

Enter, Denny Ellington, Assistant Athletic Trainer for the Buffalo Bills. Ellington immediately cared for Damar, providing swift CPR to immediately revive him through resuscitation and defibrillation. This immediate response and level of care literally saved this young man’s life. Ellington’s commitment and care for Damar’s health allowed him to navigate a moment when life was literally hanging in the balance. And while Ellington may have delivered the most timely care, we could see that there was an entire army of medical professionals there to ensure he was cared for in a meaningful way. 

Bills Assistant Athletic Trainer, Denny Kellington Source: USA Today

In various screenshots of the live feed of the game we caught glimpses of the care displayed on the faces of athletes and coaches. At that moment there weren’t two opposing teams. Everyone was united in caring for the health of Damar. It was their only concern.

We saw Coach McDermott and Coach Taylor’s care as they sent their players to the locker room, signaling that there would not be a continuance of that game. Coach Taylor said McDermott immediately told him “I need to be at the hospital with Damar, and I shouldn’t be coaching this game.” All his focus and care was on the health and safety of that young man. Nothing else mattered. True leadership in the face of such an unprecedented situation.

We saw complete strangers rally for vigils outside the University of Cincinnati Medical Center to offer prayers and well wishes for a full recovery.

And most of us were introduced to Damar’s care for kids and his community through this tragic incident. At the time of his frightening collapse, a fundraiser he started in 2020, just before he was picked in the 6th round of the 2021 draft to help provide toys for kids impacted by the pandemic in his community, had only raised a little over $2900. As I type, that fundraiser has approached 8 million dollars! His family has stated that the money raised will be used to “contribute to Damar’s community initiatives and his current fight.” An inspiring show of care from folks across the globe for Damar.

And, as we’ve gotten more and more positive news about Damar’s significant improvements, he continues to teach us more about care. Two days after suffering a near-fatal heart attack, when he’s finally able to open his eyes, still on a ventilator, he scribbles a note to his medical team.

“Did we win?” 

Subsequently, the doctors said, “Yes, Damar, you won. You won the game of life.” 

But think about this young man’s mindset for a moment – after all he’s been through. Hooked up to all those machines. Fighting for his life. He cared about the outcome of the game. He cared about his teammates and the game he loves. 

As we navigate the days ahead in 2023 it is my hope that we can remember these beautiful examples of care. We have the capacity to do it, as we’ve shown it time and time again when tragedy strikes. My prayer is that we allow our capacity to show care a daily occurrence. What a beautiful world we can build.

 

 

Enough

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Throughout our lives, the relentless pursuit of being enough puts us in a constant state of questioning ourselves. The battles forged in our minds are often much greater than that which any outside force could bring.

Day-by-day our enoughness is under constant assessment:

Am I:

Funny enough?

Popular enough?

Talented enough?

Smart enough?

Brave enough?

Beautiful enough?

Creative enough?

And so many more…On repeat…Am I Enough?

Be mindful, these questions of your enoughness come from a flawed societal construct that perpetuates envy and self-doubt.

Resist.

In all the universe, there is but one, unique, YOU. 

You’re it.

Know that you are MORE than ENOUGH.

Impact Educator of the Week

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There are certain people who, the moment you’re in their presence, you feel the most pure joy. They exude a positive aura that is simply contagious.

I’d like you to meet Mrs. Robinson.

As we approach a full year since we transferred Landon to our neighborhood school, I wanted to take a minute to highlight just how much of a difference one can make.

As many of you may remember, this time last year was tough – very tough. The normal we’d known was gone. Our days looked very different. Landon has always been my little sidekick, but during this tim he clung to my side even tighter. While he didn’t know the extent of what was happening, he knew something wasn’t quite right. But we pressed on.

As we transitioned to his new school, I’d walk with him each morning – one of the silver linings of the moment. Every morning, at the crosswalk to enter school, there stood a woman with an energy that was off the charts. She knew every kid’s name. She offered a hi-five or a fist bump to each student and shared how happy she was to see them each morning. Rain or shine, she was there. I remember thinking ‘surely she’s not this happy every morning’ – she’d prove me wrong. She was. Pure joy and positive energy every morning. Consistent and persistent with the joy!

Now, if you know Landon, you know he’s a pretty reserved little guy…until you really get to know him. Initially, he seems quiet and shy, but once he lets you in, you see the funny, silly, bright, and lovable little dude he is.

We started this school right after Thanksgiving break of 2021. Despite my numerous pleads with Landon, he’d merely walk right by Mrs. Robinson most days, giving her a head nod, at most. I’d give Mrs. Robinson a look that signaled ’I promise he’s not rude’. She’d just smile and say “it’s okay. I’ll get to him.” And she persisted. Every single day. Her love and joy for Landon and every single kid, no matter their response, was evident each morning.

Fast forward to early in the spring of the 21-22 school year. Landon, without a prompt from me, walks up and gives Mrs. Robinson the biggest hi-five followed by a “Good morning, Mrs. Robinson!” I was shocked. After responding, “Good morning, Landon! Have a wonderful day!”, Mrs. Robinson simply looked over my way and winked as she held her post in the middle of the drive. I told her “thank you for not giving up on him.” To which she responded, “oh, I never give up. I always get em”, with the biggest smile on her face. I walked back home, heart full, knowing someone like her was there for my little guy each day.

Persistence. Consistency. Refusing to allow a single kid to fall through the cracks. Ensuring my kid, and every single kid, feels visible before they even enter the building each day.

To every Mrs. Robinson out there – THANK YOU! Thank you for your willingness to spread joy. Thank you for your consistency and unwavering commitment to ensuring all students feel like school is a safe and welcoming place. Your presence is greater than any program can offer. There’s no way to truly quantify the impact you’ve made in countless young people’s lives. Thank you for being you!

If you’ve encountered a Mrs. Robinson in your school experience or with your own student, I’d love to hear about them. Drop them some love in the comments. And, if nothing else, please be sure to reach out and let them know the extent of your love and gratitude for their presence in your life.

Thank you, Mrs. Robinson! We love you!

Mrs. Robinson

Above All, LOVE: A Call To Action For Our LGBTQ Youth

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Devin Bryant

Back to school is here. It’s been so refreshing to see my timeline filled with pictures of students in their “first day best” and well-wishes from parents, families, and communities for a wonderful school year.

But While schools have traditionally served as safe spaces for our youth, we’re sending a particular group of students into spaces of suffering – not because of the teachers that serve in these spaces, but due to the ever-increasing assault on the very existence of these students. The students I’m describing are students who identify as a member of the LGBTQ+ community. According to a recent study by The Trevor Project, 50 percent of LGBTQ teens (ages 13–17) seriously considered attempting suicide in the past year…and 18 percent actually made a suicide attempt. That’s more than twice the rate of suicide attempts among all US teens, which is 9 percent

The most vile, hate-filled segments of our society have grasped control of many communities, using the mere existence of these students and their families as a fear-mongering tactic to push their bigoted agendas, with the hopes of disrupting and destroying pubic schools as we know them. My heart absolutely breaks for these young people and their families who have been told that they don’t matter.

I know, I’m speaking in general terms about a marginalized group of people so allow me to be more specific:

I want you to meet Devin.

Engaging, Joy-filled, Talented, Creative, Intelligent, Caring, Compassionate, Empathetic – Devin Bryant embodies these words and so much more. He is one of those unique individuals who, when you’re in their presence, has the ability to make you feel like you’re the most important person in the world. He’s thoughtful about paying close attention to those he engages with. Always moving through the halls with purpose, but never in too much of a hurry to offer a huge smile and a warm hello. Devin receives high marks in his classes, is a friend to all, is highly artistic, and is also an avid cross-country runner.

It would be my hope that we would all be so lucky to have a Devin Bryant in our lives. I’m forever grateful our paths crossed when they did.  But how they did speaks to a culture of intolerance that has become increasingly prevalent in our society over the last several years.

It was the summer of 2020 and I had just been named Principal at Colleyville Heritage High School in Colleyville, TX. This would be my first year as a high school principal after several years of serving as a middle school administrator and a high school teacher/basketball coach prior to that. Although there was much uncertainty about what the school year would be, as we were still square in the middle of a global pandemic, I was excited to begin this journey as Principal of a school where I’d been an Assistant Principal just two years before.

As we were getting ready to start the school year I received a message from one of our school counselors with a link to an article. I pulled over in a supermarket parking lot to see what this article was about. No text was included, initially, just the article link. As I shifted into park I saw the headline “Jesus said to expel the gay kid”. Curious as to what this was about I began to read. I didn’t get far before tears welled up in my eyes and a deep pain in the pit of my stomach. I was confused, angry, and sad as I read the story of a young man who was being expelled from Covenant Christian Academy in Colleyville, TX just before he was to embark on his senior year. He’d attended CCA since he was in Pre-K, was a straight A student, athlete, thespian, and an award-winning artist…and now he was being dismissed because of his sexual orientation – for being, unashamendly, who he is.

As I reached the midpoint of the article, a message notification appeared on my phone. It read “This student just enrolled at Colleyville Heritage”. My heart was broken for this student, his family, his friends. This student was Devin Bryant – the young man I described above. Devin was now a senior under our care at CHHS. So many questions ran through my mind.

In what universe is it ok to treat a kid like this?

How on earth does someone invoke the name of Jesus when seeking to exclude someone?

Why is it that this level of hate and intolerance still exists in this country?

Why can’t these people just mind their own damn business?

So many questions. I didn’t know what to do or how to make it better, but I knew that doing nothing was not an option. Devin and his family deserved love, support, encouragement, and hope. They deserved to feel a warm embrace. Devin and his family deserved to be treated with the dignity and respect that was denied them from a place where Devin grew up and, unquestionably, made a brighter place.

Through the many emotions running through my mind,  I quickly opened my Skyward app on my cell phone to retrieve the family’s contact information. I entered the phone number and sat quietly, waiting on the phone to ring. I had no idea what I was going to say to Devin’s parents – I just knew that I wanted them to know that we were so excited to have him on campus.

Within a couple of rings, a woman answered “Hello”

“Hello, This is James Whitfield, Principal of Colleyville Heritage High School. May I speak to Mr. or Mrs. Bryant please?” I asked.

“Hello Dr. Whitfield. This is Connie Bryant, Devin’s mother.” she said.

Excited to have reached Mrs. Bryant on the first try I continued “I just heard that your son, Devin, has enrolled at Colleyville Heritage and I wanted to let you all know how thrilled we are to have him with us for his Senior year.”

There was a slight pause and then Mrs. Bryant said “Oh, thank you so much, Dr. Whitfield. We are so happy to have him there. Would you like to talk to Devin?”

“I would absolutely love to,” I responded.

Mrs. Bryant put Devin on speaker phone, I introduced myself as his principal and we went on to visit for several minutes. We talked about our wonderful cross country program and I let him know how excited I was that he’d be joining to add to that greatness. We talked about the school in general, all the minor details that a new student would need to know as they walk in the door for the first time.

It was a relatively quick call that ended with me, again, telling them how excited we were to have them as part of our Panther family and them expressing gratitude for the call. As we hung up I couldn’t help but think, Colleyville Covenant’s loss is definitely Colleyville Heritage’s gain. What a phenomenal young person!

Devin had a phenomenal senior year. He lit up our campus in ways that only a Devin Bryant can. These students deserve spaces that embrace them with open arms for who they uniquely are. Sadly, adults with political agendas are hijacking their peace, their joy.

I will not sit idly by as their light is dimmed and their somethingness is questioned. This is not ok. Our kids’ lives are at stake! Please join me! Join Them. Speak up! Show up! Stand up! They deserve it!