I arrived to school ready for our morning staff meeting and took a seat among my colleagues. But today was different. There were about 30 student leaders joining us. As a newer staff member at the school, I had little idea of what to expect for our planned Culture Day, which was based on Teaching Tolerance’s “Mix It Up at Lunch Day.” The students were there because they were instrumental in planning and pulling it off.
I had read the day’s agenda and felt that I understood the goals. But how would it play out? I worried that, for all its good intentions, this effort could end up feeling forced. And I feared that students might reject the school's attempt to build more positive culture.
After a quick morning of shortened academic periods, staff and students shuffled over to our commons area for a meeting to be briefed about how the rest of the day would unfold. A colleague helped settle the bustling group of high schoolers with an introductory welcome. Then she quickly handed over the microphone to Emily, one of the students central to planning this day.
“We’re doing this so that we can work to make our school a better place—a place where people feel safe and respected, and where we want to be,” she said. “There may be days when you’re feeling alone and uncared for, but today we’re asking you to open up, as much as you want, and to listen to your fellow students. You’ll see that we all have days like that. Take today seriously so that we can make our school the best it can be.”
There followed more explanations about what Mix It Up at Lunch Day would be like—that students would not sit at their normal places at lunch. Although the idea had been explained before, it was not until this moment that many students “got it.” Suddenly hands shot into the air.
“You mean we’re not supposed to sit with our friends for lunch?” a young man asked.
The rebellious teen in me identified with the tone of his question, which bordered on exasperation. Quickly one of my colleagues responded.
“We’re encouraging you to participate.”
A quiet buzz started to circulate among the students. Behind me I heard a girl say, “I’m so not doing that.”
Then our dean of students borrowed the microphone and made the point explicit. “By saying ‘we encourage you to participate,’ we’re telling you politely that it’s mandatory.”
That seemed to quiet things. I still worried about what would actually happen as we went to lunch. But in minutes it became clear that the students were making it happen. About 20 or so of the student leaders corralled their groups and started sitting together to talk. And what I once thought would be a struggle, just happened.
The afternoon progressed with a series of reflective activities in which students and staff continued to get to know one another. And I found myself talking with students whom I had never even seen before. We discussed the struggles that face young men: masked vulnerability, the fear of having to know everything and anxieties about not being seen as “tough enough.”
I’d had my reservations at the start of the day. By the end, I knew that we had begun a crucial conversation for our school. Even though we didn’t hold our Mix It Up Day with the rest of the nation, nonetheless it played a vital role in getting people to connect. And it proved that it’s never too late—or too early—to Mix It Up.
Greenslate is a humanities teacher at High Tech High School in San Diego, Calif.
0 COMMENTS