Average White Bread Definition of Equity

I have lived a Joe Average life: an ethnic mix of German and French grandparents, Caucasian with a bit of Menominee, blue-collar from my Green Bay west-side upbringing, raised Catholic, more cousins than I can count, public school graduate, Packer fan since forever, married to one lady for many happy years, home-owner, two cars, two televisions and four computers. Just an average white bread guy, a bit puffed in the center, found on the middle shelves of any local bakery.

Thinking about this, I realize I have been living an idyllic Northeast Wisconsin version of midwestern life described in the Saturday-night narratives of Garrison Keillor. I am very fortunate to have found a comfortable place and, until recently, I had not given my ethnic, racial, economic or cultural privileges much thought. Why should I? Everywhere I looked, I saw people who looked like me and lived in a place where, as Keillor famously says, "All the women are strong, all the men are good-looking, and all the children are above average." And all our faces are white.

What could change?

During an Equity 101 session in our 2014 Fall Inservice Days, Jennifer Higgs, Green Bay Area Public School District Equity Coordinator, burst my self-satisfied bubble. She reported that people like me (that is, white) are still in the majority in the local schools, but not by much: 51-percent of public school students are white, while 49-percent are not. The mix of non-white populations is 26-percent Hispanic, 8-percent Black, 7-percent Asian, and 4-percent American Indian.

Breaking down the figures by grades shows a steady advance of students of color through the grades. In Green Bay Area elementary schools, 49-percent of the students are students of color; in middle schools, 49.5-percent; and in high schools, 43.5-percent. Compare that to the classrooms where I work: according to 2014 NWTC demographics only 12-percent of students self-report as students of color. This gap between the K-12 system and my college rosters predicts a steady increase in the number of students of color enrolling in our classrooms. Change is coming. Am I ready for it?

My college, obviously, is preparing me for the changes in the student population coming from the Green Bay Public Schools. Diversity/Inclusivity classes have been put in place in order to help everyone understand and work with the minority/majority who will be seeking our services in the coming years. And, to guide our staffing and student planning, the college drafted its own definition of "equity" this summer that asks all staff (support, faculty and leadership) to meet "all students where they are and remove barriers to student success so they can achieve course and program completion and attain a career."

In past semesters, my students have been a mix of white faces and students of color. This year, while teaching supplemental instruction in entry-level Medical Assistant and Electrical Systems classes, I find that I am one of very few white faces in the classroom. Before the Equity 101 presentation, I had not given that much thought: a student was just a student to me. Now, I wonder if that is still a valid instructional point of view?

Should I treat students of color different than I treat white students? I could be wrong, but I don't think the college is asking me to do that. What it asks is that I acknowledge that the world that these student come from is not the Wobegon-world that I have grown up in. Students of color face barriers that I know nothing about and shouldn't pretend to understand. I can't know what it is like to grow up and live in a community dominated by people different from you and your family. White pretense around diversity issues seems a little insulting to me. I think all I can do is re-double my efforts to treat each student as valued customer with unique needs, wants and abilities.

While working toward student dreams for program and career success, differences in race and ethnicity are not forgotten -- how can they be -- but can be set to one side during school time. My students, white and of color, hope for the things that every student hopes for: fairness, honesty, inspiration, knowledge, understanding, patience, rigor, professionalism and the chance to succeed. We have that bond in common if nothing else. When I look into the faces of my students, what I see are not others who are a different color than me, but a reflection of myself not that many years ago, as an aspiring student in the classroom. That, I do understand.