Dr. James Whitfield

Youth

Heroes

by Leave a Comment

As I walk out of the building, I hear cheers and see dozens of my students with signs of support. It’s the end of yet another long school board meeting where many of their classmates stood up and spoke on my behalf and for each other. It’s a dark, crisp night, it’s getting late and I know this will likely be the last time I get to address this group of students face-to-face. I step to the bullhorn and deliver a brief message of appreciation, love, pride, and support, then head home so we can put my 3rd grade son, Landon, to bed. 

The Kids Are Alright

Before I go further I must note something that many may not have realized about the students who were leading protests and speaking out. Many in the crowd that night have just finished their early action applications to Harvard, Brown, MIT, Stanford, University of Texas Honors Program, and Rice. Most, if not all, of them are taking a full load of AP classes as high school seniors. They are students who have never skipped school a day in their life but quickly informed their parents that they would be walking out of school in protest because they believed so strongly in their cause. After many of them spoke on this night, they were chastised by another speaker saying “they should not get to speak – they don’t pay taxes.” 

On this day two years ago, November 17, 2021, I saw a group of young people who, despite the opposition, found their voice. A group of students who had no time to engage in protests and the likes, made time. Their courage, leadership, and conviction landed them in the headlines of The Washington Post, refusing to be silenced. They represented what so many people feared – an engaged, educated young citizen capable of critical thinking and forming their own conclusions. These young people refused to drink from the fire hydrant of what may have been traditional “community” norms, but rather, questioned it.

Winds of Change

My time had run its course in the district, yet my youngest son was still enrolled there. He’d joined me in the district years prior and it was nice to have him so close to me. I could pop over for lunch when I had a few minutes. He could come over after school and shoot hoops with me before we went home. He loved his teachers, principal, and friends. And we enjoyed our rides to and from school together. 

But at this, things have changed. For the last several months I would drive Landon to school, past my former school, drop him off, then head home where a whirlwind of media were chomping at the bits for their pound of flesh. Thankfully, I’d found a dear friend and PR Strategist throughout this process who helped screen out some of the sharks. But after the meeting on November 17, 2021, it was clear that I had to make the tough decision to withdraw Landon from the district at the Thanksgiving break and enroll him in our home district on the other side. He was sad. His friends and teachers were sad and they made him cool going away presents. We were all sad. But this was just the way it had to be.

Navigating Transitions

As I walk up to enroll Landon for his first day at his new school I’m met with the emotion that most every parent has felt at some point –

Am I doing the right thing?

Surely I could just suck it up and just make the drive, push down the emotional trigger of passing my former place of employment, and make it happen, right?

But through the mixed emotions I enrolled Landon in his new school, which is within walking distance from our house. Over the course of the next several weeks we created a new routine – walk to school, then at the end of the day pick up by the big oak tree, then walk home. We found rhythm and consistency. And, as luck would have it, one of Landon’s former teachers was good friends with one of his new teachers and they were able to discuss his progress. 

Not only was he experiencing a transition academically, but he was watching the world around him unravel. He clung closer and closer to my side. While I tried to shield him from all that was going on and hide the pain, disappointment, and frustration in his presence, he knew something was off. He knows how much his dad loves being a school principal and now dad is no longer doing that. He is now accustomed to cameras and journalists following us to school or setting up in our home. And he is thriving in his new school setting. 

I marveled at his resilience and growth, his capacity to adapt to change and pour out love. On many days where I felt my light begin to dim, he shared some of his with me to brighten the way. And over the course of the rest of the 21-22 school year and 22-23 school year it was much the same. This dude served as such an inspiration to me.

A Whole New World

As August came around, I was nearing the end of my required time outside of public education. But I knew where I would be on the first day of school for the 23-24 school year. I’d obtained my superintendent certification years ago and never thought I’d be using it. But God always has a way of making a way towards those things you once thought unattainable. For this school year I’d begin on the first day of school at a K-12 public charter school as superintendent. 

Look at God.

But now I had a decision to make. With my older two children, Jordan and Lauren, I had the opportunity to serve in a school they attended. I got to coach Jordan as a basketball player (he loved it). When Lauren went into middle school, good ole dad was starting as a first year assistant principal (and you know she loved that). And now an opportunity has presented itself for me to be at school with Landon as a 5th grader, should we choose to transfer him to the school I’m at.

Decisions

For weeks prior we went back and forth. He’d been through so much change over the last few years. Relationships were formed with friends and teachers in his current school. And this was his year to be the big dawg on campus as 5th grade is the final year in that school. With us now being at different schools I definitely couldn’t drop him off in the mornings. Sparingly I’d be able to pick him up from school. I’d still probably get to join him for lunch as much as any other year. But things would be changing, for sure. So many considerations.

I drove to school alone on August 16, 2023. This was to be Landon’s first day of school, as well. His school day was set to start several minutes after mine and we would no longer ride together. With each mile I inched in traffic closer to school my emotions were everywhere, much like the cars that zoomed around each other. We’d been so torn on whether or not I should bring Landon to my school, which promised to be an amazing place, or leave him at his current school that was also amazing.

In an instant, I asked Siri to call my wife, who I knew would be up with Landon, preparing for his first day. As she picked up the phone I said, 

“Honey, don’t send him to school today. I’m gonna bring him with me. What do you think?”

Yes. I know. I went from making a firm decision to asking a question in the same breath. That speaks to where my mind was at. But I just knew in my heart that this was the right move.

She went over to Landon with the phone on speaker and said “Hey bud, what do you think about going to school with Dad this year? Dad wants you to go with him.”

All of a sudden, the phone momentarily went silent. I thought “oh crap. Did I just mess this up? The first day of school is already stressful and now I’ve gone and made it extra stressful.”

Before I got too far along the downward spiral of my thoughts I heard Kerrie’s voice exclaim, “Oh my gosh, he’s smiling so big. Yes. He’s shaking his head, yes.”

The decision was made. Landon would join me at school for 5th grade. Our rides to and from school together would continue. He’d be in a place where he gets to learn in a small setting and enjoy the outdoors afforded at our beautiful, expansive campus.

A Day to Trot

Over the last few months we’ve both gone through transition – him, as a new student in a new space; me, in a new role in a new place. And it has been one heck of a journey navigating the winds of change. 

Today was our annual Turkey Trot at our school. For the last several weeks, students were given the opportunity to sign up by grade level clusters to run in it. The winners of each race received a turkey to take home. Over the course of that time I’ve asked Landon every day if he wanted to run in the race. The dude is a strong, fast runner. But every day, the answer was, “no dad, I’m good.” 

This morning we began as we do most Fridays with our Donuts with Dad at our favorite donut shop. Then, we had a conversation about everything from the upcoming anniversary of the JFK assassination to the conflict in the middle east. As we got to school and entered my office Landon looked at me and said, “Dad, I think I want to do the Turkey Trot”, to which I responded, “then let’s do it!”. Quickly, we went over to the sign up sheet to add his name. 

After adding his name he said, “Dad, if I win the Turkey Trot, I want to give the turkey I win to someone who needs it.”

With my heart beaming with pride I said, “that sounds like a fantastic idea son. I’m sure there is someone who needs it.”

We had a great day today at our school. I was pied in the face by those who won the drawing from our canned food drive. Families feasted on wide food spreads, picnic style, with their children on the grounds. And the races were intense. 

As I watched Landon round the last turn towards the finish line with no one in front of him I couldn’t help but smile. After so much hesitation about even running, he’d not only run the race, but won first place, thus securing that turkey to give away. After a great big hug, he was off to take his picture with the first place sign and a huge turkey in his arms. I could see the happiness in his face – the pride in his stance. He’d won the turkey he set out to win to donate to someone in need.

I stood there watching this young man with so much pride in my heart. To think about where we were two years ago on this very day. So much uncertainty, pain, grief, disappointment, and fear. Then the transitions over the course of the time from then to now. And now, this moment. Only by the grace of God.

Our Young People, Our Heroes

So often, we reserve the title of “hero” for adults or celebrities, but I know better. Heroes are the young folks I’ve described above. Youth who sacrificed so much of their time and energy to stand up for not only me, but their community. They were harassed online and in person, but never buckled under the pressure. They shook up things and made folks aware of what was going on in their community. 

And my son, Landon. He is truly one of my heroes. He inspires me with his courage and resilience. The last couple years have been tough but he mets every challenge, head-on, and conquering them. I’m proud of his huge heart, empathy, and sense of compassion for others. His compassion knows no bounds, a beacon of light in a world that sometimes feels dim. I’m uplifted by his constant encouragement and love. 

Landon. My son. Our little champion. My heart. My hero.

Weekly With Whitfield – Serendipity

by Leave a Comment

The story of my life is filled with many twists and turns – unbelievable highs and devastating lows. But, through it all, God has revealed a power and purpose deeper than I could ever imagine. By no means am I suggesting that it’s been easy. Far from it. The journey has been incredibly challenging. That said, each passing day reminds me just how fortunate I am for every bit of it – the good, the bad, and the ugly – and how it has shaped the husband, father, and community partner I aspire to be.

The last couple years have been quite heavy for our family. We have felt every emotion imaginable, but we have maintained our strength and resolve throughout. We draw that strength in a multitude of ways. But this week I was reminded, on several occasions, of one of those sources of strength that has been sustaining, encouraging, affirming and validating. And that is the many serendipitous encounters with a wide range of individuals. With each passing week I am uplifted by these serendipitous moments – moments that seem to hit right on time even if I didn’t know or feel it.

For Kids

Some of the most powerful moments come directly from the many former students. Without fail, these tend to come in moments where I may be feeling the lowest. It could be a student I had back in my 9th grade World Geography class, a player I coached, or one of the many students I served as a school administrator. With each encounter I am left with a great sense of joy and purpose-filled. Ultimately, they are why I do what I do and to have so many who have been so gracious to say hello, express their gratitude and share about what’s going on in their lives means the world to me. 

The “Dark Side”

As I entered education I was solely focused on being a classroom teacher and a basketball coach. Never, in a million years, did I imagine I’d take this journey into school administration. I remember when I made the decision to jump into school administration, one of my teaching colleagues said “oh no, James. Don’t go to the dark side!” But as time went on, and I continued my education, I began to see huge gaps in what was being asked of teachers and actions of administrators – why this stellar educator would view administration as “the dark side”. In the classroom, teachers are encouraged to engage their students but I saw little to no true engagement from administrators to teachers. Compliance seemed to be held above engagement and I saw the impact that had on many of my colleagues. 

So I committed to do this work as a school leader in a different way – in a way that uplifts, engages, encourages, celebrates, values, trusts, connects, and empowers educators to bring their full and authentic selves to school each day to do the most important work on the planet – educating the hearts and minds of our young people. Along the way I’ve learned from, and grown with, so many phenomenal educators. By no means do I claim to have it all figured out. In this work, as in life, when you think you’ve got it all figured, rest assured, something will come along and humble you. Instead, I continually seek opportunities to reflect, learn, and grow in my leadership journey.

Be Impeccable with Your Word

And, sometimes, that journey of reflection and growth can come with a seedy dose of self-doubt. Our minds are one of the most powerful tools in the universe. In his best-seller, The Four Agreements, Don Miguel Ruiz discusses being “impeccable with your word”. At its core, this agreement acknowledges the immense creative power of language, acknowledging that our words can either uplift and inspire or inflict wounds and perpetuate suffering. So often, we tend to think about how our words can hurt others. But I want to give a nudge for us to consider how negative self-talk can actually be more harmful than anything we’d ever dare say to another person.

Being impeccable with our word begins within. It calls for self-awareness and a commitment to authenticity. We must find strategies and mechanisms to avoid self-deception or negative self-talk. By using our words and thoughts in a spirit of self-love, we cultivate a positive self-image and strengthen our personal integrity. Believe me, I get it…easier said than done. But that brings me to serendipity.

Serendipitous Encounters: Renewal, Encouragement, and Gratitude

Just as I’ve run into countless former students over the course of my career, I’ve encountered many former educators I’ve served as an administrator. These encounters always leave me feeling renewed, refreshed, and encouraged for our profession. Strangely enough, whether or not I know it heading into these encounters, I leave thinking “that was right on time”. I am so very grateful for the many people out there who take the time from what they’re doing to stop and say “hello”, lend a kind, supportive word, or share some anecdote of how you may have played even a small role in their journey as an educator. It is the ultimate data point for me, as this work is about the people.

Serendipitous Encounters with New Friends and Allies

Over the last couple of years, as my story has played out in local and national media, that circle of educators, parents/guardians, and youth has expanded. With each passing week there’s some sort of serendipitous encounter with someone in one of these groups. From social media messages to emails to chance encounters in public spaces – each interaction stokes my passion and purpose to press on even in the midst of such chaotic and turbulent times. 

One such encounter happened just the other day as our family was out to eat with friends. As I walked to the bar to order a drink for my wife and I, there stood a person ready to greet me with a big smile and an extended hand. As we shook hands they said “Dr. Whitfield, right?” I responded, jokingly, “you got me”, as I lifted my hat to expose my shiny, bald head. After a brief chuckle they went on to share that they’re a principal in a nearby district and just wanted to say hello and let me know how much they support who I am and what I stand for. 

As I thanked them for their kind words they went on to share a bit more background saying, “and I want you to know that my appreciation and admiration goes deeper than all this foolishness that’s been thrown at you and how you’ve handled it with such grace. Actually, I was an assistant principal at a local school when COVID struck. And you were the principal of one of our teachers’ kids. She came in and showed me the videos you were making for the students, staff, and community and I thought ‘that’s some good stuff – I need to follow that dude’, and I have followed your journey ever since.”

They added, “So just know that, for so many, you were, and are, a model for what true leadership should and could look like even before all this came your way.”

Accepting Your Flowers – Appreciation

I’ll just say it – I am terrible at accepting compliments, but have gotten better over the course of time. In full transparency – it was hard to even type the above paragraph because I, in no way, want to self-aggrandize. But my journey has taught me that it’s important to acknowledge and accept these kind sentiments. Doing so shows appreciation to the person who made the effort to share. Additionally, it becomes a powerful tool for being impeccable with my word, allowing myself the opportunity to practice self-love and appreciation.

Gratitude, Purpose, and the Power to Move Forward

This was one of several serendipitous moments that happened over the course of this past week, and each was accepted with deep gratitude. These moments happen to each of us in different ways throughout the course of our busy lives. Sometimes in the form of small whispers. Other times in thunderous applause. Each with the capacity to nudge us along our paths, which can often be mired in the vast complexities of our daily lives. And, while they may not know it right now, I have faith that those reading these words may soon have that moment of serendipity that reinforces their purpose, passion, or simply their will to be. It’s coming. The universe is sending it your way. Listen and/or watch for it. When you hear it and/or see it, embrace it. Then use that serendipitous power to propel you as you move forward. 

Weekly With Whitfield – Counter-Narrative

by 2 Comments

As we turn on the news and hear discussions surrounding violent communities, one city often takes center stage: Chicago. And, while Chicago may have its fair share of concerns to address, regurgitation of the “what about crime in Chicago?” trope overshadows the broader context and greatly minimizes the reality of the folks on the ground – those doing the hyper-local work of building communities where everyone can thrive. These narratives often reinforce deeply rooted racial stereotypes that have been with us over the course of time. Today I’d like to offer a counter-narrative for you. 

The Windy City – The Counter-Narrative

When I say “counter-narrative” I’m talking about an alternative perspective or story that may challenge prevailing narratives or beliefs. This provides a different lens through which to view a particular issue, with the aim of challenging stereotypes and potential misconceptions/biases. Counter-narratives can be such a powerful tool.

Chicago has often been stigmatized and reduced to a singular narrative of rampant violence and crime. This narrative, perpetuated by so many, contributes to negative perceptions and misconceptions about the very real communities of the city.

Today I want to offer the counter-narrative, where we acknowledge the multitude of individuals and organizations working tirelessly to address community concerns and create safer communities. There are countless community leaders, activists, social workers, educators, and residents in Chicago who are dedicated to fostering peace, reducing violence, and supporting those affected by it. From youth programming, to providing trauma-informed support, to promoting restorative justice, to advocating for systemic changes – there are dynamic, engaged, and impassioned individuals on the ground leading this community-building work.

This week I had the honor of visiting Chicago for the first time with my Bringing Fellows cohort. Upon arrival we immediately plugged into a full day and a half engaging with numerous non-profits doing deeply impactful work in some of the most disinvested communities in the city. I will do my best to highlight some of those organizations and the work they’re doing here in a bit. But, as a historian, I’d be greatly remiss if I did not delve into the historical context of how the systemic inequalities that exist in the great city of Chicago – a city that has given the world so much – actually came to be.

The Promise and Reality of the Great Migration

MPI/Getty Images

In the early 20th century, the Great Migration brought waves of Black people from the oppressive chains of the South to the promise-laden cities of the North. Prior to this movement, the South had long been the predominant home for African Americans. From the inception of the nation until the turn of the 20th century, the majority of African Americans, at least nine out of ten, resided in the South, primarily in rural areas. However, despite the newfound freedom granted by the 13th Amendment, which abolished slavery, various factors such as farm tenancy arrangements, poverty, high illiteracy rates, and limited opportunities in the North kept Black migration from the South at a very modest level.

From 1910 to 1970, Chicago attracted more than 500,000 of the approximately 7 million African Americans who left the South. One of the key contributors to the movement was The Chicago Defender, a prominent Black newspaper in the city. It played a pivotal role in promoting and facilitating the migration of African Americans to the North. Starting in 1916, the newspaper embarked on an extensive campaign, sharing inspiring stories of Southerners who had achieved success in the city. To assist those considering the move, the paper provided valuable resources such as lists of churches and organizations where potential immigrants could seek help with travel, housing, and employment.

Systemic Inequalities in a Promised Sanctuary

However, beneath the surface of Chicago’s attractive facade, the promise of a sanctuary was overshadowed by the stark reality of systemic inequalities. Civil Rights icon, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., turned his gaze upon the streets of Chicago and was met with a harsh, devastating truth – declaring it to be one of the most segregated places he had ever witnessed, exposing the persistent grip of racial divisions and systemic injustices that plagued African American communities.

Contrary to the hopes and expectations of those who migrated, the North proved to be mostly a continuation of the oppressive structures they sought to escape. Systemic inequalities persisted – discrimination, limited opportunities, and unequal access to resources remained obstacles to the progress and advancement of African Americans.

Structural Barriers and Resilient Prejudice

Getty Images

An insidious prejudice persisted in obstructing progress and maintaining racial divisions within Chicago. Structural barriers were erected to confine African American communities within invisible walls, denying them access to quality housing, educational opportunities, and economic advancement. Redlining, discriminatory lending practices, and predatory housing policies served as highly effective legal tools to perpetuate systemic inequalities and reinforce racial segregation.

Through redlining and discriminatory lending practices systematically denied loans and mortgages to African Americans, depriving them of the opportunity to build wealth and secure stable housing. Predatory housing policies further exploited these communities, perpetuating cycles of poverty and limited mobility. The impact was profound, trapping generations in a cycle of inequality and denying them the chance to fulfill their potential.

Divisions and Neglect: Echoes of Injustice

Segregation’s corrosive effects permeated every corner of Chicago, eroding the city’s unity and corroding its social fabric. Neighborhoods once vibrant with diversity succumbed to the rigid boundaries of racial segregation, breeding inequality and perpetuating deep-rooted disparities. Within this segregated landscape, African American communities bore the brunt of the consequences, enduring the harshest realities of racial injustice.

Education, a pillar of opportunity, access, and empowerment, became a battleground of inequality. Dilapidated schools, deprived of resources and attention, stood as glaring symbols of neglect and systemic discrimination. African American children were denied equal access to quality education, limiting their chances for upward mobility and perpetuating generational cycles of disadvantage. Simultaneously, healthcare services in segregated areas were woefully inadequate, reflecting the callous disregard for the well-being of African American lives. Basic medical facilities were scarce, leaving communities grappling with preventable illnesses and untreated conditions.

Amidst the sea of despair, a familiar, resilient spirit emerged. African American communities in Chicago refused to be defeated. They rallied together, united in their demand for an end to the suffocating grip of segregation and systemic racism. 

Bob Fitch photography archive, © Stanford University Libraries

Organizations like the Chicago Freedom Movement, led by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., and countless grassroots activists played a vital role in challenging the status quo. They paved the way for progress, tirelessly advocating for equality, justice, and the dismantling of oppressive structures. Their footsteps marked a path towards a more inclusive and just society, leaving a powerful legacy of local community power and hope.

The Legacy of Power and Hope 

African Americans’ struggle against systemic inequalities in Chicago serves as a testament to the unbreakable spirit of the human will. It reminds us that progress isn’t always rolled out on a linear path, that the journey towards justice is often riddled with countless obstacles. However, it also demonstrates the power of community and the unwavering belief that together, united in purpose, we can dismantle the barriers that hinder progress.

The legacy of the Great Migration and the resilience of those who fought for justice fuel our determination to create a future where equality and justice are not mere dreams, but a lived reality for all. And like those who paved the way during the Great Migration, today, there are so many powerful organizing efforts taking place in these communities. While there are so many doing absolutely phenomenal work in their communities, here are a few we visited during our time in Chicago.

Southwest Organizing Project (SWOP)

In the heart of Chicago’s southwest neighborhoods, the Southwest Organizing Project (SWOP) stands as a champion of community empowerment. They work tirelessly alongside residents, amplifying their voices and fighting for social and economic justice – they understand the power of collective action and partners with the community, rather than playing the role of a savior.

One of SWOP’s primary battles is housing insecurity. They confront gentrification and strive to ensure that every resident has access to safe and affordable homes. By transforming dilapidated buildings into beacons of hope, they enable families to thrive and reclaim their communities.

Education is another area where SWOP has made a significant impact. They stand alongside parents and students, demanding better resources and equitable opportunities. Through their unwavering commitment, they transform schools into empowering environments where the potential of every child is nurtured and futures are reshaped.

SWOP also fights for equitable healthcare access, mobilizing communities to dismantle barriers that hinder essential medical services. Their efforts have chipped away at healthcare inequity, ensuring that all residents, regardless of their zip code or economic status, can receive the care they deserve. The impact of SWOP reaches deep into the fabric of the community, instilling power, unity, and resilience. They inspire collective action and a model that change comes from unwavering determination and belief in the power of the people. 

Imagine Englewood if

In the heart of Englewood, Imagine Englewood If stands as a powerful force for change. As the longest-serving nonprofit in Englewood, it is committed to fostering secure and empowering environments for the youth in the Greater Englewood community. By imparting valuable knowledge on positive communication, promoting a healthy lifestyle, and fostering environmental awareness, IEi plays a vital role in strengthening the bonds within the Greater Englewood community. Through IEi, disinvested spaces are transformed into vibrant centers of growth and community building, adorned with murals that tell stories of strength and unity.

Imagine Englewood If defies limitations and nurtures the creative spirit within young people. Their impact pulses through the community, empowering individuals to rewrite their narratives and shape their neighborhoods. By fostering belonging and purpose, they instill the belief that dreams are valid and contributions are invaluable.

As architects of transformation, Imagine Englewood If builds bridges where others see walls, unlocking the potential within each individual. They paint a vivid picture of a future where empowerment replaces disinvestment, creativity silences violence, and every young person can thrive. Through their unwavering dedication, they pave the way for a brighter tomorrow, where hope guides us towards a world where dreams are realized.

Safer Foundation

Many of us have loved ones or close friends who’ve been incarcerated at some point in their lives. And we have seen the, oftentimes, irremovable obstacles that stand in the way of formerly incarcerated individuals. This is where the Safer Foundation steps in.

They serve as a beacon of hope, advocating for second chances and transformation in a world that can be quick to condemn those with criminal records. At Safer, they recognize the worth of every individual, believing that behind every label and mistake lies someone deserving of redemption and a fresh start. With unwavering dedication, they provide comprehensive services that extend beyond rehabilitation, including employment training, education, and vital support. They’ve even built a full-scale home in an old gym where these individuals can practice their skills in a practical way. There lies an inherent belief in the power of education to break chains of prejudice and open doors of opportunity to equip individuals with the skills and resources needed to rebuild their lives and contribute positively to their communities.

They work tirelessly to break the cycle of incarceration, dismantling barriers and fostering an environment of acceptance and understanding. With Safer, individuals are able to rewrite their narratives, rise above their past, and embrace limitless possibilities for their future. Lives are transformed, identities reclaimed, and communities are enriched as individuals begin to envision a brighter future – a future in which they belong. 

Through the work of the Safer Foundation we’re reminded of the importance of empathy, understanding, and forgiveness, challenging the notion that mistakes define individuals, and, instead, celebrating their resilience and potential. In a world where judgment often overshadows compassion, the Safer Foundation rises above the noise, guiding individuals towards redemption and renewal and reminding us of the transformative power of second chances in building a vibrant society. 

BUILD Chicago

BUILD (Broader Urban Involvement & Leadership Development) has been transforming the lives of young people in Chicago since 1969. Focusing on gang intervention, violence prevention, and youth development, the organization provides opportunities and inspires hope for youth facing systemic obstacles. Through mentoring, arts, athletics, college and career preparation, technology, and mental health programs, BUILD serves over 6,500 youth and families each year.

In response to the urgent need to address violence, BUILD launched the BUILDing Healthy Futures initiative in 2012. This initiative promotes healthy lifestyles through knowledge, nutrition, physical activity, and social-emotional learning. As violence rates increased in Chicago, BUILD adjusted its efforts to target areas with the greatest needs, such as Austin, Humboldt Park, and the West and South Sides. Since 2016, the organization has expanded its impact by establishing a Clinical Health & Wellness department and introducing Enrichment programs focusing on art, technology, and leadership training.

BUILD places a strong emphasis on building relationships with youth, fostering trust, and providing advocacy, support systems, and high expectations. They strive to ensure that every young person in every neighborhood has the opportunity for success. And they’ve achieved tangible results, with regular program participants showing decreases in negative behaviors, increases in prosocial behaviors, social mobility, post-secondary success, and civic activism/engagement.

They provide academic support and open doors to college and career opportunities for at-risk youth, including teen mothers and formerly incarcerated youth. Additionally, Project BUILD helps incarcerated teens reclaim their lives by introducing innovative practices to learn from past mistakes and develop positive life skills. They also engage neighborhood adults through the Community Resources Development program, collaborate with social service providers, and offer alternatives to incarceration for troubled youth.

Another powerful component to BUILD is The Iris, their campus farm, which plays a vital role in bringing fresh food, job experiences, and hands-on learning opportunities to the broader community. At The Iris, fresh and locally grown produce is cultivated, harvested, and shared with the surrounding community. By providing access to nutritious food, The Iris contributes to combating food insecurity and promoting healthier lifestyles for the community. 

Furthermore, the farm serves as a space for educational programs and workshops, allowing individuals of all ages to engage in experiential learning and gain a deeper understanding of sustainable agriculture and environmental stewardship. To date, BUILD collaborates with over 100 organizations, demonstrating a commitment to a true community partnership. 

Firehouse Community Arts Center

The Firehouse Community Arts Center, located across disinvested neighborhoods of Chicago, serves as a sanctuary of creativity and healing. For over a decade, they have provided a safe haven for young people in Chicago – its primary focus on preventing and interrupting youth and young adults caught in violence through a range of events and art programs. The center’s origins go back to a Saturday night Hip-Hop worship service in 2003, organized by Pastor Phil Jackson and attended by youth and young adults from North Lawndale and beyond. The overwhelming response led to the incorporation of the Firehouse Community Art Center as a 501(c)(3) non profit in 2006, and the subsequent purchase of a 100-year-old Chicago Firehouse in North Lawndale in 2007.

Today, the Firehouse Community Arts Center offers year-round, multi-disciplinary cultural arts programming, mentorship, leadership development, and workforce training. Its mission is centered around preventing and interrupting violence by providing young people with meaningful opportunities to engage in the arts. The center serves as a hub for artistic expression and creativity, empowering the youth and young adults of North Lawndale and the wider community. Through these various forms of expression, individuals find solace and strength, realizing that they are so much more than what they may have been led to believe.

The Firehouse Community Arts Center stands as a testament to the spirit of a community that refuses to be forgotten. It embodies the transformative power of art, connecting hearts and illuminating the human experience. In this reclaimed fire station, hope blossoms, wounds heal, and communities are woven together through shared experiences. 

IMAN (Inner-City Muslim Action Network)

Since its inception in 1997, IMAN has served as a powerful force for change on Chicago’s South Side. Rooted in the lived experiences of marginalized communities, IMAN’s passionate visionaries have nurtured the organization into a beacon of hope and transformation. 

IMAN’s approach defies conventional boundaries, recognizing that true change requires addressing the interconnected web of systemic inequities. They are a prime example of “buying the block” to provide services to the people. (I encourage you to read this more broad outline of how they’re changing the game – IMAN’s Principles of Change)

IMAN’s story celebrates the indomitable human spirit and the resilience of communities of color. They are catalysts for transformation, defying limitations and reshaping narratives. Their legacy will forever resonate as a testament to unity, resilience, and unwavering hope, fostering a society where every voice is heard, every life is valued, and justice radiates in every corner.

Embrace the Counter-Narrative

Thank you so much for joining me on this journey. I understand that stepping back and considering something different than what you may have believed or felt can be a hard thing to do. But I encourage you to. As we embrace the counter-narrative, we recognize that violence and crime do not define the entirety of Chicago or its residents. We acknowledge the agency and resilience of those who are actively engaged in creating positive change and foster a more nuanced and understanding of the city’s complex realities. 

I love the people of Chicago and thank them so much for their willingness to share the dope ways in which they are making a difference in their communities. I learned so much. Let’s commit to challenge our preconceived notions. And let’s celebrate the remarkable work being done by local community organizers in some of the most disinvested areas in our country. As one of these champions stated, “we don’t get to clock out – this is what we do 24/7.” That’s commitment. That is love. That is community. 

So the next time you hear someone say “well what are they doing about crime in Chicago” or some other racist trope, I challenge you to step up. You can show them this blog. You can point them to one of these fabulous organizations where they can ask the folks doing the work directly. And, while they’re at it – since they’re so concerned – they can donate to their causes. Let’s transcend stereotypes, embrace the counter-narrative, and support the transformative efforts of so many amazing nonprofits, such as these, in their mission to build a more peaceful and prosperous society for all.

Weekly With Whitfield – Lost

by 4 Comments

He was nowhere to be found. Toby, our plump, black and white, 10 year old cat, was lost. It’s Thursday, April 13th, and he must’ve slipped out the back door the night before. I was going back-and-forth to tend to the grill and that little sneaky guy got away. I awoke to calls from my wife, Kerrie, in a panic. Searching and searching before she went to work – to no avail. She was an emotional mess. 

And now she left for the salon to go work her chemical magic on people’s hair. Don’t get me wrong – I, too, was a bit panicked, but at this point my worry was more about my wife’s emotional well-being and the deep sadness that would ensue if we did not find Toby. My determination to find Toby is riding high.

The Search is On

I go through camera footage from the following night. BOOM! There he is at 1:30am just chillin’ out by the pool lounger like he doesn’t even know he’s an indoor cat. At roughly 4:30am, he walks off to the east side of the house, then never shows up again on camera.

Off I go. I search the backyard again and again. I walk our little culdesac over and over. I get on the Nextdoor platform (which I absolutely dread) and post a brief message and picture about Toby being missing. I do the same on our small community Facebook group. Nothing. Toby is gone. 

I jump in my car to expand my search. I don’t think he’s gone far, but I just want to check this off the list. As I creep at a crawl along these neighborhood streets I’m cognizant of the “look”. When I see people working in their yards outside, I’m quick to speak.

“Hello there! You wouldn’t have happened to see a plump, black and white cat around here, would ya?” 

Each response was, generally, the same:

“Nope. Good luck.”

Help Is On the Way

All of a sudden, my phone rings. It’s Kerrie. Usually, I’m very excited to answer her calls. When I see her name pop up I get this massive rush of dopamine. But for this specific call I was sad. I knew I didn’t have the news she was looking for and my heart was breaking. I answer the call and, through her tears, she tells me that my mother-in-law, Colleen (aka Mama), is on the way. I’m relieved to have some help. Especially from Mama, as she’s a freakin’ cat whisperer. If he’s anywhere close, she’ll find him.

Soon after I hang up with Kerrie, Colleen calls to let me know she’s on the way. She suggests printing off some flyers that we can post around the neighborhood. When she arrives, off we go, flyers, cat treats, and tape in hand. 

Doors

We walk. And walk. And walk. This dude is absolutely nowhere to be found. All of a sudden Mama says, 

“what if he went to someone’s door and they saw this pretty little cat and just took him inside?”

“Good point”, I thought.

She continues, “how bout you just go knock on some of these doors and just ask people if they’ve seen him. He may be in one of these houses.”

I stop in my tracks and immediately say, “Mama, there ain’t no way I’m (pointing to my chest) going up to knock on any of these doors – especially here in Texas.”

I didn’t have to think about my response. It was instantaneous. A lifetime of lessons learned about how I am to navigate this world. Ever-aware and conscientious that, in many spaces, my very existence is seen as a threat. I’m not knocking on any doors of people I don’t know.

In the end, Toby’s little bad butt was tucked up under our pool lounger cover THE WHOLE TIME. Talk about being super relieved and highly pissed at the same time. But the most important thing – he’s found and I get to deliver that news to Kerrie, who was on the verge of canceling the rest of her day. Disaster averted. Toby once was lost, but now is found! The relief in her voice soothed my soul.

The Cost of Being Lost

Days later, Ralph Yarl, a 16 year-old Black young man, was shot twice (once in the head) for simply knocking on the wrong door in Kansas City, Missouri. He was sent to pick up his siblings at 115th Terrace Street and, mistakenly, showed up at 115th Street. He knocked on the door, no words exchanged, and an 84 year-old White man simply shot him through the door. 

Despite suffering these violent wounds, Ralph ran to three different houses for assistance and, finally, aid was given – but not before being asked to lay on the ground with his hands up. Miraculously, Ralph is expected to make a full recovery. But my goodness…no child should have to ever fear ringing a doorbell.

When I heard of this tragedy I was left to grapple with what I said to Mama just days earlier. I didn’t just manufacture some fairytale of something going horribly wrong as I approached someone’s home. I could literally see it playing out. There was not a hint of play in my voice.

What most will never understand is that, while Ralph took the literal bullet, there was a figurative bullet that shot through the hearts of every Black person as they learned of this story. And that bullet doesn’t simply pass through – it leaves fragments of trauma along the way. A daily reminder that your body can be taken, at any point, for simply being lost – for simply existing. 

And Then There’s New York

More tragedy strikes days later when 20-year-old Kaylin Gillis was shot and killed because she and her friends were lost. They pulled into a 65-year-old man’s driveway to turn around and were met with armed resistance. The reason for Kaylin’s death was simply being lost. As if the shooting of Ralph was not enough of a gut punch to our societal consciousness, this senseless act highlights a reality we face.

In what world is it okay for our kids to fear being shot at or killed when they pull into a driveway to turn around? As parents and guardians, we must now have that conversation with our children and tell them to never pull into someone’s driveway to turn around – even if they’re lost. Another life was taken in a senseless act. All because these kids were lost.

And Then There’s Texas

We’ve all done it before. We approach, and maybe try to enter, a car that looks similar to either our own or one of our friend’s. But this simply being lost in the moment could cause us serious bodily harm (or even our life), as displayed here in Texas.

Several friends who met in an Elgin H-E-B parking lot had just returned from cheerleading practice.  One of the young ladies, Heather Roth, mistakenly opened the car door to a car she thought was hers, only to see a man sitting in the passenger seat.

Quickly, she retreated to her friend’s car. She gets in and rolls down the window to apologize to the man, who’s coming towards their car. They saw he had a gun and tried to speed off and then he just started shooting at them. Heather was grazed by a bullet. Another young lady, Peyton Washington, was shot in the leg and back.

In each of these instances there are such high costs for simply being lost.

Trauma

I cannot imagine what each of these families are going through right now. And not just those who were killed or injured – in some of these instances there were bystanders that will carry what happened with them forever. I pray that each person impacted by these horrific events receives the care they need to heal. I hope we can start to have some serious discussions about how some of these “stand your ground” laws have not necessarily served to make our communities safer.

When these tragedies happen we’re left with so many questions that often go unresolved. It seems as though we have almost become numb to it. We see it on the news one night, then the next night there’s another one. The sheer volume of these senseless acts has driven some into a dark corner of apathy. They become desensitized and think it’s just the way things go. I refuse to look towards that dreary corner. It stalls progress and leaves our communities more vulnerable.

Lost

As a society, we appear to be desperately lost. Hang in there with me – I’m not saying all hope is lost – but we are, indeed, lost. 

Decade after decade we’ve been led to believe that our brothers and sisters are not such. People in positions of power and authority understand that there is a time-tested, proven, way of maintaining that power. And that is to pit man against man.

If I can convince you to see someone as less than human, it becomes much easier to subjugate, discriminate, and hate that group. 

If I say it enough that “this group of people are coming to take your jobs”, at some point, you start to believe it and hard calluses begin to form in your mind about “them”.

If I scream it loud enough that “LGBTQ+ people are somehow pedophiles who are out to recruit your kids”, at some point, you start to believe it.

Day after day, we’ve been inundated with one simple tactic that has been used throughout the ages – FEAR. And this fear leaves us lost. 

Dazed and confused. 

Wandering aimlessly across each other’s paths. 

Narrowly avoiding disaster most days. 

With the capacity to inflict heinous and unspeakable acts against one another on other days.

The Way Back

But there is a way back. And it’s really quite simple. 

Embrace humanity. 

Interrupt the noise with empathy and compassion. 

Choose to see the good in the world. 

Reject rhetoric that seeks to sow distrust and divide. 

Understand that, oftentimes, the people using these ugly tactics are simply being used. They’re misguided by those who hold power over them. 

Remember, as humans we all have an innate desire to belong. It just so happens that need is sometimes filled by nefarious ideologies. 

Every time you have the opportunity, extend grace. Even to those who may seem to be totally off-base and too far gone. Especially to those who treat you the worst. 

Give them something more beautiful to belong to. Open the door and invite them in. Give them a parking spot in your driveway. Welcome them. 

In the end, they’re simply lost. Be the light that guides them back to love and humanity, not the flash from a muzzle that leaves them wounded and in despair.

Weekly With Whitfield – Advocacy

by 1 Comment

Here we stand in yet another very pivotal moment in our nation’s history. Decades to come will look back on our journey, and hold us to account for that which we’ve allowed. It’s been encouraging to see so many dedicated public school advocates march to Austin, TX this week to speak on behalf of students, educators, and families.

Our public schools are truly the bedrock of our society. And our commitment to supporting these institutions will be critical to our ability to create a better world for us all. 

The past couple years have presented a fair share of challenges. But built within those challenges have been opportunities to grow and strengthen our resolve. My journey has been filled with unimaginable lows and incredible highs. Through it all I’ve learned that, no matter which state one may be in for the given moment, it is just that – a moment, a season – so never allow yourself to get too high, never allow yourself to get too low – just keep pushing forward.

These days I’m often asked for guidance on advocacy efforts. While I’ve always been an advocate for youth and educators within the public education space, I’ve gleaned broader insights from where I sit today. 

So here are 5 things to consider when you sign up to engage in advocacy work: 

With advocacy comes risks.

Your cause is worth it. But you have to know, and deeply understand, that your advocacy for such a cause comes with risks. It’s hard work. 

Ask yourself: What are you willing to risk? 

Consider this question at a very deep level. Think about your job, friends, family, emotional, psychological, etc. I’m not trying to scare you, just want you to be real with yourself about the costs that may be associated with your willingness to be an advocate. 

Also, understand that within those given contexts (family,job, friends, etc.) there will be disappointment. People you considered trusted colleagues and friends will show their true colors. Your workplace may prove to be a very different space than you experienced when you just chose to remain silent about things and just “stay in your place”. This may bring about some very difficult decisions for you to make. 

What are you willing to risk to have your voice heard and advocate for the causes you believe in?

Start with a realistic goal. 

Get real with yourself with regard to how much you have to give to the cause.

Ask yourself: How hard are you willing to work at this and how much bandwidth can you afford to give? 

Is that 2 hours a week, 1 day a week…what is the minimum you can commit to? Be careful. When we find something that fits our purpose, something that we want to push for,  we have a tendency to GO HARD early, then fade. Remember, this work is a marathon, not a sprint. Start small and build healthy advocacy habits.

You’ll be surprised at what incremental, strategic goals can help you accomplish (Note: Atomic Habits by James Clear is a phenomenal resource if you need help here). Whatever it is you choose to do, be consistent and persistent so create a cadence of what that looks like for you. Remember, you can’t pour from an empty cup.

Do not let the work consume you. Take care of yourself and that will allow you to help take care of others. 

Stand in your truth. 

Determine what drives you most and allows you to walk in your purpose.

Ask yourself: What is it that I see that conflicts with my beliefs/values? What gap do I see in my community that desperately needs to be filled? 

Being laser-focused here is absolutely critical. Don’t jump into something because it’s a fad or because you see “all the cool kids doing it”. Pour your energy into things that align with your North Star. That’s not to say that other things don’t matter, but engaging in something you deeply care about is going to allow you to be more effective than something you marginally have your heart in. Protect your energy and spend it where it matters most.

And know that resistance will come. As James Baldwin said “you must understand that in the attempt to correct so many generations of bad faith and cruelty…you will meet the most fantastic, the most brutal, and the most determined resistance. There is no point in pretending that this won’t happen.”

Once you accept this, attempts to quell your voice will no longer be a surprise.

Your awareness protects you from the distractions of those who stand against you.

Communication is key. 

What we say and how we say it impacts the reception of our message.

Ask yourself: What message do I want to convey to others anytime I’m asked or afforded an opportunity to speak on these issues? 

I strongly urge you to write this down, keep your talking points succinct and put them to memory. Being able to do this helps build authenticity which leads to trust. When you say something, say it with your WHOLE chest! People can feel how genuine you are about your cause which is another reason to be sure this is something you’re willing to “go for broke” on. 

Additionally, you must understand that not everyone will understand some of the more cause-specific terminology. One of the most sure-fire ways to lose people is to talk in acronyms, assuming everyone knows what they mean. Break it down into consumable chunks. Clear, informative messaging is paramount to educating and obtaining allies.

Don’t ride solo. 

Being in community with other dedicated people makes a world of difference.

Advocacy work can feel very defeating and isolating at times. Do not do this work in silos. 

Ask yourself: Which organizations in my community are engaged in efforts to support my cause?

Once you identify them, get involved. Contact members of their board or other representatives and acquaint yourself ASAP. Advocacy work is hard and not meant to be done alone. 

Isolation is an enemy to progress. Find your tribe and you’ll be energized in ways you can’t imagine. 

Keep Going

I just want to encourage you. I know that the days seem long and the work can be exhausting and downright frustrating, at times. You won’t always feel valued or appreciated but I pray that, along the way, you’re able to see, feel, and hear the impact of your noble deeds.

Understand that, for so many that came before us, they did not live to see the fruits of their advocacy efforts. Those would come long after they left this world. May we lean on those examples. Refusing to bow to apathy and despair – leaning in to the advocacy meaningful work that comes with planting trees we may never see bloom.

Weekly With Whitfield – Why

by 2 Comments

Quite often I get the opportunity to speak to educators. I love discussing how to create dynamic, engaging learning environments for the kids they serve each day. I’ve had the honor of speaking to district leaders, campus administrators, classroom teachers and support staff, and everyone in between who help create these spaces for our youth. It is truly one of my favorite things to do. It ignites a fire deep within my soul. 

The Palpable Force of Education: The Unique Power of Schools to Transform Lives and Communities

Every time I leave the presence of one of these audiences I’m left feeling a bit better about the state of the world. I’m reminded of the unique power that lies within the walls of our schools each day:

The power of the chance we get each day to help shift the trajectory of student’s lives in positive ways.

The power to create an environment where young people feel seen, heard, valued, and loved. 

The power to draw out the unique genius that lies within each child. 

The power to change communities for the better. 

The power to facilitate learning that fosters critical thinking, inquiry, respectful dialogue, and a growth mindset.

The power to take the most broken and make them feel more whole. 

The force that exists in our schools is palpable. And that force changed the course of my life. It’s why I do what I do. Each time I’m blessed with the opportunity to address educators I try to take a moment to draw back to their why. 

Balancing Realism and Inspiration: The Role of “Remembering Your Why” in Navigating the Challenges of Education

I’ll stop here and say that I’m not a big fan of toxic positivity. Just telling educators to “remember their why” in the face of so much of the nonsense they face without taking meaningful action to address said nonsense, or providing practical tools to combat it, is not helpful. Quite the contrary. But I do believe that there are moments throughout our journey through this multifaceted profession that our ability to press pause and remember our why can be quite helpful in the moment. They sustain us through some of the passing challenges that come with walking through the schoolhouse doors each day.

This week I was reminded of my why in some very subtle ways.

The Importance of Mentors in Education: Reflections on Career Growth and Staying Hyper-Focused on Your Why

I had lunch with one of my amazing mentors, whose served as a district-level administrator in the area for some time. This is the same person who had a hand in encouraging me to pursue a doctorate in educational leadership nearly a decade ago when I was just beginning my administrative career. She saw something in me, then. And now, after all these years, here we are still discussing how on earth we’re going to solve the challenges facing public education. 

It was great to hear her speak of her why that carried her through her career, to retirement, and continued advocacy post-retirement. Ultimately, it was her local public school that changed the course of her life. And that prompted her to dedicate her life to the service of young people. It’s great to have people you can call on to reset your focus. Especially at the speed at which life is coming at us these days. We need people to help us slow down, breathe, consider things that we may not have, otherwise, and remind us that, beyond the noise, lies your why – the reason you care so much about what you do. 

The Power of Personal Connection: Building Relational Capacity with Students and Colleagues

Additionally, sometimes the reminders come directly from those you’ve been called to serve. For me, there is no greater gift than an affirmation from a former student or colleague who, in some way, I may have made the slightest difference. I live in the community that I’ve served for the last two decades and, rarely, does a week pass that I don’t have an encounter with an individual who falls into one of these categories.

It’s really quite amazing. It could be a student that I had in my first 9th grade World Geography class back in 2005 and I’ll still remember their name. That’s always been a critical component to building relational capacity with those I serve. I don’t just want to know everyone’s name by the end of the year or first semester. I want to know them in the first weeks of school. And I put intentional time and energy into that task. And not just knowing their name, but understanding how to pronounce their name; understanding unique things about the person beyond their name.

They May Forget What You Said, But They’ll Never Forget the Way You Made Them Feel

Every so often a meme goes around on social media about educators who’ve made an impact in students’ lives and I’ll have a former student tag me in it. This week, there was one that had a sticky not that read:

“Every Adult Remembers Their Favorite Teacher” 

I felt honored that someone out there thought enough of me. I responded with my gratitude and expressed how proud I was of this particular student. And this was her response:

Similarly, another student chimed in:

Again, I expressed my gratitude for such kind thoughts, let her how honored I was to have been her teacher, and affirmed the light that she shined then, and now, as an adult.

 – Yes, I’m at that age where I’m beginning to see that I could be in a school with children of former students – WOW! – 

As I read these beautiful reflections I paused. I reflected on the thousands of students I’ve had the opportunity to serve over the course of the last two decades. My goal coming into the world of education was to help guide young people through some of the most difficult moments of their life, equipping them with skills, tools, and resources to learn and grow into the best versions of themselves. In a nutshell, that’s what a handful of teachers did for me. And that’s largely why I chose the profession.

Talk about watery eyes as I received those verbal flowers. It’s been years since I’ve crossed paths with these students, but I can remember their light, as well. Unquestionably, the feeling is reciprocated. My life has been so greatly enriched by the students I’ve served through the years. Although I was the “adult” in the space and had my own lived experiences, I learned so much from them. And I’m forever grateful for each of them. 

Nurturing Your Passion: The Importance of Reconnecting with Your Why in Teaching

Teaching is, for me, one of the most noble professions. Educators play such a multifaceted and crucial role in shaping the future of our society. One must not underestimate the pressures that accompany this unique role. The constant demands and weighty responsibilities can easily lead to exhaustion, burnout, and despair. Thus, educators must frequently take the necessary measures to safeguard their mental and emotional health.

In such a scenario, remembering your purpose, the reason that compelled you to pursue this calling, serves as a guiding light. Reflection upon your why enables you to remain attuned to the aspects of the profession that offer contentment and gratification. By doing so, this helps stave off burnout and sustain your drive and passion for teaching throughout your journey.

Beyond these chance encounters, One way I reconnect with my why from time to time is to go through one of my “smile boxes”.  If a student has ever taken the time to write me a kind note, draw me a picture, etc, it’s in one of these boxes. Every so often, when I may be feeling a bit down, I pull out one of these boxes. Each represents a different point along my career journey from teacher to administrator to educational consultant. While I may have opened that box feeling down, it doesn’t take long for those feelings of goodness to wash over me in a wave of positive emotions. If you don’t have a “smilebox”, I’d highly recommend having one. This small action will uplift your spirits and remind you of the difference you make each day. The why shines through crystal clear as you turn the pages.

Still A Ways to Go – But You Got This

By no means do I write this to say that I’m the world’s best educator. That’s a far stretch. I’m far from perfect. But one thing that has always been perfect and pure is my love for young people – my desire to make them feel seen, heard, valued, and loved, my desire to create spaces where they are free to be themselves…where they can learn, grow, and discover opportunities that they may have never known. And in a moment, this week, I was reminded by the people who matter most in this profession – the students.

In the end, it’s important to remember that teaching is a challenging profession. And it’s okay to feel burnt out or overwhelmed at times. It’s natural. And, really, that goes for any profession. However, reconnecting with your why can help you stay motivated and inspired, even during the darkest of days.

 

The Impact of Black Male Educators

by 7 Comments

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.

Impact Educator of the Week

by Leave a Comment

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