Imagine This . . .

Dentist Canva

Imagine for a moment that you are a dentist.  You have several years of experience under your belt, and you know that you are very skilled at what you do.  You could make a lot of money in a private practice, but you decide to open a clinic to serve those who are considered at risk of serious dental problems and those who are disadvantaged and have not been receiving the services they need.  Although your clinic will be open to everyone, you know that people who are satisfied with the dentist that they have will stay where they are.  You want to have a diverse client base, but you have a desire in your heart to attract and serve clients who are somehow in need.

You enjoy working at your new clinic, but there are challenges that you did not face in your previous practice.  You are now struggling financially, which was never an issue before.  You spend a lot of time teaching people, kids and adults, why dental care is even important.  In your suburban practice in an affluent neighborhood, families could not get enough dental care.  They would ASK you for tooth whitening procedures and referrals to the orthodontist.  Now you are passing out free toothbrushes and toothpaste because many of your patients need them.  You replenish the supply with your own money each time you get paid.

You find yourself trying to think of new and creative ways to reinforce basic dental health to your patients.  You look for ways to entice your patients to adopt good habits because you know that if you can get them started, then they will eventually see the value of what you are asking them to do.  With better dental care, they will have better overall health, increased confidence, and more job opportunities in the future.  Many of them just don’t see this yet.  But they will.  You refuse to give up on them.

You know that many of your patients have very difficult and unusual life circumstances, so you have flexible hours to try to accommodate them.  Sometimes they have to bring their children to the clinic with them because they do not have anyone to help them with childcare.  Sometimes they cancel on you at the last minute because they work two jobs and cannot pass up an unexpected opportunity to earn some extra pay.  Sometimes, you come in early or stay for late appointments, and the clients just don’t show up.  Sometimes, you work really hard to help a family, and you can see at the next appointment that they did not follow any of your instructions at all.  It can be disheartening.

But some patients cry when you help them.  They cry because they never thought that they would get the help that they needed.  They cry because your clinic offers the understanding, patience, and flexibility that allows them to do what is best for their families.  They cry because you recognize their individual needs and respect their humanity.  Sometimes, you cry, too.

You feel really good about the work you are doing in this clinic.

Then one day an inspector from the state visits the clinic.  He looks very serious.  He seems unhappy.

He says, “You are a terrible dentist.”

You are horrified.  You ask him how he came to this conclusion.  He pulls out two charts covered with graphs and tables. One chart shows data from a wealthier suburban dental practice.  The other chart shows data from your clinic.

You are a smart person.  You are a dentist, after all.  You know this isn’t good.

“Our data indicates that the patients at your clinic have many more cavities than the patients at other clinics.”

“Yes, they do.  I serve many patients who have not had good dental care in the past, and some of them are not convinced that dental care is even important.  That is why I came to this clinic in the first place.  To serve these people.”

“You say that you are serving these clients, but the data shows that many of your patients are not brushing their teeth twice a day, even after they visit.  If this clinic were good, your patients would be brushing twice a day.  You are just taking their money.”

“Please remember that many of my clients were not brushing their teeth at all when they came here, and now they are brushing more than they ever did before, even if it is not twice a day.  I work very hard to find new ways to educate and inspire them to improve their dental health.  Plus, we do have patients who now have excellent teeth thanks to our clinic.”

“At this other practice, almost all of the patients brush twice daily.  Their patients also do not skip appointments.”

“I think our client base is not the same.  My patients are wonderful people, but a large number of them have serious medical or mental health conditions, multiple jobs, or other unusual circumstances.  Some of them are caring for sick family members or raising children with little help.  Some of them have been in and out of the criminal justice system.  Some of them have had very bad experiences with the medical profession in the past, and we are working hard to rebuild their trust.  We do experience more cancellations than other dental practices, but we believe that what we do is very important, and we do not stop trying to help people.”

“The other practice has a record of fewer cavities.  Therefore, it is an excellent dental office with excellent dentists.  That office and those dentists are much better than you.”

“But I used to work at that office.”

“You are not a good dentist.”

“When I worked there, you said that I was an excellent dentist.”

“You have really let yourself go since you came here.”

“Actually, I have learned a lot by working at this clinic.”

“I am going to recommend that your clinic is closed.”

“But what about my patients?  They will have nowhere to go.”

“They can go to the more successful practice.”

“No, no, no.  They do not feel understood at that practice.  They are tired of being treated like nuisances or outcasts when they ask for help or try to do the right things for their families.  They will fall far behind in their dental care because there is no flexibility.  Many of my patients really need this clinic.  I feel like there is a misunderstanding here.”

“I am sorry.  You are no good.”

 

This is what it feels like to be an ECOT teacher right now.

 

I will be the first to say that we need major education reform in this country.
BUT . . .
Please do not believe everything that you read.
Please think about what data actually represents before you jump to conclusions.
Please understand that newspapers are clearly showing bias and journalists are not doing their homework.
Please do not drag students, teachers, and families through the mud when your actual concerns are about politics and school funding.

You can disagree about politics and school funding without distorting information and minimizing the good that is being done for many kids, both in traditional classrooms and in the online environment, by excellent teachers!

 

What It Feels Like to be the White Mother of Black Sons

Rikki

My heart has been hurting, friends.  The world has been spinning out of control recently, and I keep thinking, “Why won’t all of us just listen to one another?  Why don’t we seek understanding instead of taking sides when we all want the same things – to be respected, to be safe, and to be treated fairly?  Why can’t we acknowledge the pain in another person’s heart and help to heal it?”

Then I read a Facebook post written by my friend and coworker, Rikki Johnson, and I was so moved that I asked her if she would adapt her post for our “What It Feels Like Series” here on Still Chasing Fireflies.  I am incredibly thankful that she agreed to open her heart to us in this way.  I know Rikki as an enthusiastic English teacher, but she and I have another thing in common: We are both moms of boys.  Our boys don’t have the same racial heritage, but her essay reminds us that ALL mothers share the same heart, and this is a way that we can connect and understand one another, even when our life experiences may not be the same.  As a mother of black children, Rikki worries about some things that I hadn’t even thought about before.  Her essay challenged me.

PLEASE read Rikki’s story.  Please read it with an open heart and mind and share it with your friends and family if you are moved, too.  That is one small way that you can be a bright light in the darkness, just like a firefly, as we all seek to be understood.

I’ve remained pretty silent lately regarding the recent incidences of the two unarmed black men murdered at the hands of police officers, as well as the murders and shootings of the Dallas police officers. I’ll start with this: it is a difficult time in our country to be a police officer. The murders of those men protecting the crowd in Dallas is despicable and it only overshadows the message so many are trying to peacefully spread. Think of this though: the distrust, disrespect, and criticism of the police these days is very similar to the reality that black men have faced as a whole throughout our country’s history.

My recent silence on this issue mostly stems from fear. I’m afraid of being disappointed in the reactions to my feelings about this by those closest to me and my boys: my family and friends. I hold so many people to such high expectations that I usually set myself up to get my feelings hurt when they don’t live up to them. I’m begging you to see my perspective and try to understand where I’m coming from. I am a white woman married to a black man, and I’m raising black sons.

So many people hold my children and husband as a separate entity than my neighbors’ black husband and children because I am white. My family is an example that I know many of my friends and family members use to justify their perception that racism is no longer an issue. My husband is used as an example that “good” black men do exist. But if my husband were caught making the same mistakes as many of my white family and friends have done, would he still be one of the “good” ones? What if one of my boys were caught shoplifting a candy bar or some other youthful antic like toilet papering someone’s house or breaking curfew? Would you label him a thug behind our backs?

Why don’t you listen when my husband openly speaks about his personal experience being black in this country?  Why don’t you listen to me when I try to explain that my husband and boys, yes, even the “good ones,” are statistically 2.5 times more likely to be murdered at the hands of police. And if they are, someone, somewhere, will try to find some past record, social media post, or picture to justify why they somehow deserved it. Heaven forbid, if my son were to ever make a mistake and be subjected to the legal system, he would be more likely to receive a stiffer penalty than a white man who made the same mistake. How many times do you get pulled over in a year? My husband was pulled over 6 times in the last 12 months while driving home through the predominantly white city where he works. Some of his driving infractions: failure to signal, failure to come to a complete stop at an empty intersection, and going 40 in a 35. Most of those times, he was sent on his way after they ran his license, insurance, and plates. Maybe it was his nursing scrubs that eased the officers’ minds that he was a “good one?” In cities across the country, black people are disproportionately pulled over for minor driving infractions compared to white people. They are also 2 times more likely to be subjected to being searched.  These are facts, and my husband and boys are not any more immune to them than the next black man down the street.

If you love us, then listen please. Please stop trying to explain away our experience as a family or my fears for my husband or my boys because it makes you uncomfortable. This is our reality, and just because you don’t understand it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. These problems remain because people keep trying to explain them away or debate them or say that others are only trying to stir the pot. We all know that not talking about a problem doesn’t make it go away. Listen to what people are saying instead of just waiting for your turn to speak. Try to put yourself in the other person’s shoes and remember that just because something isn’t a part of your experience, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.

I’m not sorry for being born white. I’m not ashamed of who I am at all. I’m comfortable being me around any person, and I always have been. But, as a white person, I recognize the privilege that comes with it. Growing up, I didn’t know fear in interacting with police. I never wondered if I were overlooked for a job because of my skin. I was never followed through stores by associates when I was out shopping with my friends. I’m mouthy and sarcastic, and I see how differently my demeanor could be perceived if I were a black woman exhibiting the same behavior. Recognizing this privilege doesn’t mean you are ashamed to be white. Acknowledging an issue is the first step in making changes.

It is scientifically proven that young black boys are perceived to be older than they actually are upon first glance than white boys. This means that higher expectations for their behavior are placed upon them at a younger age. When black boys play rough, their behavior is more likely to be deemed violent and malicious, whereas white boys are considered tough and masculine. Boys will be boys, you see. In a study testing even the subconscious perceptions of participants, adult black males were perceived as more of a threat than their white counterparts. My eldest is about to turn 12; day by day he is turning into a man and statistically is perceived as more threatening. Maybe his predicted short stature will protect him? These are the things that I think about that mothers of white children don’t.

As any good parent should, I’ve raised my children to address authority figures, such as police, with respect. But, as a mother of black boys, I have to go deeper than that. We have to practice what to say, how to say it, where to put your hands, never to move without explaining your actions, how to appear small and unthreatening. I have to remind my boys as they grow into men outside of my umbrella of protection that they shouldn’t run down the street, even if they’re in a hurry or running late. They shouldn’t wear a hoodie over their heads, or travel in large groups of other black boys. All of these actions could invoke suspicion or draw unwanted attention. Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t think any of my friends and family members with white boys ever had to go through training as extensive as this just to leave the house! And, yet, it could not even matter because last week a man did everything right when stopped and was still murdered right in front of his 4 year old and wife.

I know many of you will not have even read this far. Or, if you have, you may have been coming up with rebuttals to each of my points along the way. I’m not asking to debate. I’m trying to let you in on my reality as a wife and mother. My hopes and dreams for my babies and their futures are no different than any mother of any color. I dream that my children will lead successful, productive lives. I want them to become great fathers, husbands, friends, employees just the same as any mother wishes for her sons. However, these ongoing incidences of violence and injustice serve as constant reminders that nothing, not even my children’s lives, are promised.

To my family and friends, I beg you not to claim you love my boys and my husband, and yet still try to justify all these other men being killed for being black. My perspective–my husband’s perspective–my beautiful children’s perspectives are very similar to those of the people who are marching in the streets to end this violence on ALL sides. We’re not against police and we’re not calling anyone racist. We’re asking that you at least acknowledge the problem and find some understanding and support to help make this country better and safer for my family and yours.

Thanks again to my friend Rikki Johnson for sharing her “What It Feels Like” story with us.  Speaking out in the midst of controversy is not easy.  It is courageous, and it is important.  Starting conversations and then listening with love, respect, and patience is important, too.  Thanks, Rikki, for being loving and patient with me as we discussed some really hard things.

Do you have a life experience that you can help other people understand?  It could be ANYTHING that is stirring your heart!  You can write it yourself, or I can help!  Please reach out to me to add to our “What It Feels Like” series!