Amy is a White mom of a 1st grader attending a global majority school in Denver. She is a co-leader of the Denver Integrated Schools chapter. (Photo Credit)
Last spring, my Denver chapter co-chair Katie Zaback blogged about the Two Tour Pledge which Integrated Schools (IS) had recently revamped. The pledge, and Katie’s post, emphasized that it’s not enough for folks to check off a box and feel like they’ve done something in the area of education equity simply by showing up to a tour. While it’s true that taking a tour isn’t going to change the world, I know from my experience what a game changer that first step can be.
I’m a poster child for the Two Tour Pledge; or rather, my child is. When I was looking for a school for her for ECE3 (preschool for 3 year olds in Denver Public Schools) four years ago, I was lucky enough to have been introduced to the Integrated Schools podcast. I heard Courtney and Andrew challenge folks to take the Two Tour Pledge, and I did it. Because of the parameters of my search, I was only able to add one school that I might not have otherwise considered, but I added it to my tour schedule (because I am definitely the mom that created a spreadsheet and a tour schedule for my choice process, but that is a problem to discuss in another post).
The school I added is a global majority, Title I school in my rapidly gentrifying (and honestly, already very gentrified) neighborhood. It has a fairly recent history as a “Turnaround School” where it had to make drastic changes or get taken over by the state, and is quite close to the largest housing project in our city, ensuring that the demographics of the school will not shift significantly. I remember being oddly nervous when I went to tour. None of my friends working through their school choice decision were interested in going with me, and as a White mom I was nervous that I would stand out (ever proving how White the spaces are that I normally run in).
I loved it. Loved that the students and teachers were diverse in a variety of ways. Loved how much giggling I heard in the classroom, how the teacher we visited was so obviously loved by her students. Loved that it met my parameters for a school (preschool-5th, dual language, relatively close as I am not interested nor capable of driving my child across town for elementary school), while also feeling like it aligned with the priorities I was learning about through Integrated Schools.
And then my daughter didn’t get in. Our district has a limited number of ECE slots, and the sad truth is that many families would take advantage of the ECE program but then go to a different, “better” school, when academics became more important and more slots opened up in Kindergarten, though that story is shifting and more families are now staying. My daughter got into another school in our neighborhood that still fit all my parameters, and everyone told me I should feel so lucky. It was the “best” school, so much better than the “other” school. That as a more established school, it would provide a more stable environment for my daughter; the “other” school was still in transition and would probably be chaotic (that should sound familiar to anyone who read “Learning in Public” by Courtney Martin; it’s definitely a thing).
So my daughter went to the “great” school, and guess what? I didn’t like it. In ECE3 my primary need was for my child to feel loved and seen, and I didn’t think she felt that. I really struggled with how separate the Latino and White communities were, and, more importantly, how no one seemed bothered by it. I never felt welcome in the building, and never felt any leadership from the administration. The PTA was all about fundraising, not at all about building community or advocating for students.
In this sense, Covid was a gift, as it gave us a year to step back and out of the public school system, and then to make a different choice. While I wasn’t able to tour schools during the pandemic year, I had been talking to families; listening to Andrew and Courtney for two more years – sometimes relistening and relistening; and I talked with Courtney before she died, where she challenged me to dig a little deeper. I reached out and helped to start the Denver chapter of IS where we have amazing learning and discussion opportunities with folks who think deeply about education equity – some of whom are choosing integrating schools for their kids. Through all of that, I had become even more convinced that going to a global majority, integrating school needed to be one of my top priorities. That my child was still going to get a great education. (I’m now uncomfortable typing that sentence because it feels so obvious now, but it was one of my concerns back when I started this journey.) That my primary need for my daughter – to feel loved and seen – would happen. That living my values, and the values I want to model for my child, is critical.
I enrolled my daughter in the integrating school for kindergarten, and now 1.5 years later we are both so much happier. She is learning traditional academics and social skills in a way I am amazed by every day, and every adult she comes in contact with in the school is a gift – loving, yet challenging her to be her best self, while also providing her with better boundaries than I ever have at home! I love that she comes home talking about her “peach honey” colored skin, so different from her buddy’s which is more like milk chocolate with a little red. I love that she learns about Frida Kahlo, Basquiat, and Bob Ross all in art class. The community feels amazing; and the PTA and the school leadership are all talking and thinking about diversity, equity, and inclusion on a regular basis.
Our Principal is well-respected by her teachers and staff, as well as the students and families, and is an inspiring leader. When I asked her early in our first year how to best integrate into the school, wondering if I should be the class mom throwing parties and inviting everyone, she encouraged me to get to know folks one at a time; to talk with different people at dropoff and pickup each day, and to recognize that it takes time.
So yes, the Two Tour Pledge changed our world, if on a delayed schedule. It gave me a first step when I was trying to figure out how to turn all the thoughts churning in my brain from the podcast into action. It reminded me that all educators are working incredibly hard and want the best for our students, though from what I’ve seen, perhaps the teachers and administrators in the Title I schools are a special kind of superhero.
Sure, some folks might take the Two Tour Pledge and feel like they’ve checked a box as they enroll at the mostly White, privileged school they intended to enroll in anyway. But even if that’s the case, perhaps we can issue this challenge: show up differently at that school because of your experience. Listen and get to know the community, and then work to amplify voices of color, or the voices of the parents who can’t show up at a PTA meeting because they are working. And stay involved with Integrated Schools and keep digging; there is a place here for you, too, and perhaps you’ll have a different lens the next time it’s time to choose a school.
My guiding approach to parenting is that kids do the best they can, all the time. I’m starting to believe that it would be a better world if we all assume that we’re all doing the best we can all the time. While that’s harder to believe with adults, in this case, I want to believe in the people who find us here at Integrated Schools. As Courtney Mykytyn told us many times, this is generational work. We have to have faith that seeds sprout when they are ready to sprout; our job is to welcome folks at any stage of their learning process, and continue to provide the space for all of us (now we should all hear Andrew’s best podcast voice) “to know better and do better.”
such a great post. Thank you!