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I recently had an interesting experience while doing professional development with a group of educators. As I entered the zoom platform, the group was talking about their holiday traditions and many of them had on different holiday attire. As always, in my opening remarks to a group, I like to connect with the (virtual) crowd. I jumped into the conversation and acknowledged some of the Christmas traditions mentioned as well as the decorations and attire that people were wearing, largely those who had on green and red.

This equity session just happened to be about identity. In leading sessions about race and culture, I often introduce an identity wheel as a tool for working with new audiences. I use examples of some dominant mainstream understandings that exist in America (Liberty, freedom, individualism, capitalism also more arguably dominant, inequality) to serve as a starting point for how our society operates. I also talked about how certain identities have greater privilege and alignment with those dominant mainstream understandings. I highlighted examples of heterosexuality and LGBTQ+, able-bodied and disabled, male and female, and I concluded with race and what is normalized in America. Lastly, I elevated the idea that when something is not perceived as “normal” it is therefore subconsciously abnormal, different, and ofttimes deemed subordinate.

As I’m leading the session, I hear my name and I see a woman waving her hand feverishly to get my attention. It almost felt as though she was on a stranded road and I was the first car that she saw for hours. I was pretty shocked because I’ve never had a session where someone wanted to ask a question directly in the middle of it, at least not in Zoom spaces with 70 or 80 people. I asked if she (don’t remember her name, we’ll call her Ms. G.) could hold for a while until I finished my discussion about identity. In my mind, I’m thinking what might she have to ask me that was so pressing.

As I wrapped up my talk, I came back to Ms. G. and asked did she have a comment or question that she wanted to share with the group. She mentioned that she noticed that at the beginning of the session many people were talking about Christmas and when I came on I referenced the holidays being mentioned, but didn’t include Hanukkah. I paused, thought about it, and said, “Ms. G., you are exactly right. Hanukkah wasn’t intentionally in the group’s activator, no staff mentioned it outright or in the chat, and I did not recognize it when I entered the zoom room. And, this session is actually taking place on one of the eight days of Hanukkah. We should have all been paying attention to all of the holidays and customs during this time. I appreciate you elevating that thinking in this space.” As the facilitator I had to own that for the group, plus I knew this interaction could contribute to the lesson immensely. Here’s why.

A conversation talking about identity and inclusion is what culturally responsive practice is all about. Everyone has some privilege. Additionally, everyone has some biases. But, when one is able to recognize the privileges of their identity they can block the implicit bias of making someone else feel different, abnormal or as though they don’t belong. That is our goal as educators to make all of our students feel included in our classrooms, offices, and schools, no matter their culture or identity.

I’m sure it shocked, maybe even angered some folks that Ms. G. thought it was so important that she needed to try to stop me in the middle of my presentation. Some may feel she attempted to center herself in this particular session. For me, in a conversation about identity, this is part of the lesson. The fact that one chose to advocate for themselves and ensure their identity and culture is affirmed in this space was valuable. Hopefully, the educators in that moment were being reflective enough to realize how they may have students in their classrooms who may feel the same way. The students who don’t see themselves on images on classroom walls, ignored in the literature and curriculum, or like this scenario, have had their cultural experiences unintentionally (or intentionally) excluded from the learning space.

When an educator thinks about engagement, they have to think about belonging. If one thinks about belonging they will remain curious about the ways in which students feel safe and acknowledged in their classrooms. Let’s imagine that Ms. G. was uncomfortable or afraid to advocate for herself? Would she have tuned out from the rest of the lesson? What if I, the facilitator (ie. teacher) refused to hear her and acknowledge that what she had to say was important? How would we all have collectively silenced and suppressed Ms. G. voice? In what ways would the group have lost out on learning about others by not including all in this conversation?

Oftentimes when the racial and cultural experiences of students and staff are diverse, misunderstandings or misinformation about culture can exist. Educators won’t know everything about every person or racial/cultural group. However, the idea of continually opening the door to allow individuals to contribute to the learning is what can be taken away from this lesson and interaction. People always ask, what does equity work look like? This is it. Seems simple but trust me it isn’t intuitive for everybody. I see this interaction during the presentation as nearly important as the presentation itself. Continually thinking and re-thinking instruction and engagement to develop a common culture is the (equity/antiracist) work that needs to be done in our schools. Instruction and engagement is so much easier when we have established this relationship and created classroom culture with our students. The dynamics of fostering belonging and sharing our identity should be at the heart of what we are attempting to do as educators. Bottom line: Everyone deserves to feel like they belong.