As my 10th-grade students came back from lunch, it was clear that a few of my more squirrely young men needed time to readjust to the ways of a classroom after being away all summer.
"It's just a joke between us, Mr. Greenslate," said Aaron. "We all know Jason from outside of school, and so that's just how we mess around. Once you know us better you'll understand."
Aaron was doing his honest best to make sure that I knew that the boys' teasing of Jason was all in good fun, and that they meant no disrespect—possibly hoping to avoid a prolonged lecture about playing nice.
"I understand that you guys are all friends," I responded. "However, there's a reason why I'm not laughing about the possibility of Jason using what you have decided is a girl's lunch bag. Who knows why I'm not laughing?"
I stared out at the 46 students before me hoping that someone would pull through, that all of our conversations and community building activities had resonated with some of the students. Then Joyce raised her hand.
"You're not laughing because what if that actually was his lunch bag," she said. "He would feel bad, and other people would start to feel like they couldn't really be themselves."
I nodded, and to my surprise half a dozen more hands shot up. As we discussed all of the potential pitfalls of allowing that type of teasing in our class, it quickly became clear that this was about more than just some harmless banter among friends. Keeping a calm and even tone I worked to stretch their understanding of this small moment to teach beyond "play nice" platitudes and into issues of justice.
"By making fun of someone for having this lunch bag, you have decided two things and made them public. You've decided that only a woman would have a bag like this, which means you've prescribed what it means to be masculine and what it means to be feminine. And additionally, you've let everyone know that any deviation from your ideas about those roles is unacceptable, and will be denigrated or made fun of."
All the while Jason kept trying to jump in and explain that it wasn't his lunch bag. I had to work to help him see that this wasn't really about him.
"Jason, we know that," I told him. "You don't have to explain anything. Those who are laughing need to explain why they're laughing."
After exposing the sexism inherent in a small joke about a lunch bag, we discussed other triggers that can set people off, using this opportunity to discuss why saying something is "retarded" or "gay" are, as one of my students commented, "unfair and inaccurate." A retelling of the recent Wanda Sykes public service announcement brought laughter back to the room. It also helped underline the points that several students had made during our discussion.
Beyond learning that they could no longer unabashedly make jokes at the expense of others, students were able to have an honest dialogue about sexism. Afterwards, we moved right along to our afternoon work, and one of the boys left to return the unassuming bag to a colleague of mine who had left it behind. She still has no idea that her lunch bag played a vital role in teaching students about issues of equality and justice.
Greenslate is a Teaching Tolerance blogger and a humanities teacher at High Tech High School in San Diego, Calif.
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