This has been a good year. A very good year. I have much to be thankful for. My students have grown in so many ways. They have evolved into mature, confident, deep thinkers who are ready to take on the challenges of high school. I am extremely proud of them. However, as I celebrate the year’s successes, there is an incident that lingers and I would be remiss if I didn’t address it.

This year was all about exposing my students to art and removing any obstacles that would inhibit them from visiting New York City’s plethora of riches. As was our custom, after a trip to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, we sat around and debriefed by sharing our experiences. We talked about what we saw, our favorite pieces, the connections we made, and shared questions we had about the art.

The students seemed to have enjoyed the trip and made some clever observations. I was elated by the level of discourse. However, one student was especially quiet, Joshua. I asked him if he enjoyed the trip. He said that he did, but he would have enjoyed it more if the security guard didn’t follow him around like he was a thief.

It took a beat before I could ask him to explain further. He reported that as he walked through the American galleries, a security guard kept watching him and staying close by him. When he walked into the next gallery, the guard followed. It was clear that the incident had an impact on Joshua. He was made to feel embarrassed and out-of-place. He was relegated to being an outsider. Joshua couldn’t enjoy the art because he was given a signal that he wasn’t good enough to be in that place. Controlling my emotions as best as I could, I told him that I wish I had known what was happening because I would have addressed it. I told him that I would never allow anyone to treat him that way. Later, as I recounted the story, tears of frustration stung my eyes.

Joshua is a large, dark-skinned young man. He stands at least a head taller than his classmates. He is quiet and respectful. He has a great smile. That is what I know about Joshua. What I don’t know is what about him sparked the vigilance of the security guard? What did the guard see in his sweet face? Why did he feel compelled to monitor and assess Joshua’s presence at the museum? What signalled him as a threat or an outsider? There were twenty-two students from our school meandering through the galleries on the second floor. None of them encountered a similar situation. Was it the combination of skin color and size that caused concern?

When I shared the incident with several people, someone questioned whether Joshua might have misread the situation. Was he getting too close to the art? Perhaps. Did the guard really follow him? I don’t know. Does it matter? Maybe. What matters more is why a thirteen year old boy would assume that a security guard at a museum filled with people would follow him.

His life experience brought him to that point and informed his response. He has been told in many ways, some subtle, some less so, that he needs to be aware of his body in space. He has to make sure that he keeps his distance and remains quiet. He has to hold himself in a manner that is not threatening, because apparently, just being a large, black male is threatening.

My goal this year has been to remove obstacles that society has placed in the path of my students; obstacles related to socioeconomic status. But Joshua needs to overcome the inherent obstacle of his skin color and size. How do I remove that? Is he too young to learn, as Ta-Nehisi Coates says

“…you are a black boy, and you must be responsible for your body
in a way that other boys cannot know. Indeed, you must be
responsible for the worst actions of other black bodies, which,
somehow, will always be assigned to you.” (Between The World
And Me, 71)

As much as I have tried to take down walls, there are some obstacles that I cannot remove.  I cannot change the color of Joshua’s skin. I cannot diminish his size. I cannot undo the racism that he confronts every single day. All that I can do is cautiously expose him to the world and allow the world to discover that he is just Joshua; a young, black man with a sweet smile. I need to be his cheerleader and his advocate. I need to be his witness and his voice, and pray for the day when the world does not routinely view him and all young black men as threats. I will also pray, as should you, that his shame never reforms into rage.