when I entered and took my seat. One day after a glance in the mirror, briefly, I saw her, too! What a lesson in how to speak possibilities into the lives of young adults who, deep inside, believe empowerment is their destiny and simply need cues to help them claim it.
Now, as I reflect on the impact of my examples of excellence in early childhood and post-secondary education, it is easy to see their influence on my teaching philosophy and approach. In each scenario, there were wisdom seeds planted in those lessons that would eventually blossom when the time was right. Mrs. McClain, Mrs. Knudsen and Dr. Scarborough were foundational figures in helping to foster my personal and professional growth. Clearly, they spoke with hope and truth about who I was and was yet to become.
Certainly, this early grounding would sustain me in the ensuing season of harsh criticisms and judgments that seemed to color my graduate school experience. In fact, it was the remembrance of being identified as âgiftedâ in elementary school and in the African-centered framework in the Department of African-American Studies at the university I attended that helped to remove doubts about my ability to pursue a doctorate in clinical psychology. In particular, Dr. Shirley Weber, Dr. Shirley Thomas and Dr. Norman Chambers provided a rich, culturally centered context that would later serve to enhance my practice as a psychologist. For them, and what they shared, I remain eternally grateful.
Although I havenât published a magazine article yet, Ebony is still a possibility. Indeed, I am not a cultural anthropologist. However, much like Zora, my love for writing, inquiry and the desire to connect past, present and future are ever so strong. When I teach, I seek to inspire, reach and engage students in the manner that my elders did. Even though a good foundation for teaching was in place, it surprised me that having a passion for the discipline, respect for students and a love for learning would not be enough.
Right before the start of graduate school, my childhood friend and I returned to our elementary school to see Mrs. Knudsen. She still remembered us and was happy to hear of our achievements. Years later, after giving my card to her cousin at our twentieth high school reunion, Mrs. Knudsen sent me a postcard full of positive praises. Itâs amazing how good that still feels and so much of what has unfolded is because of what she poured into my life.
It is in the blending of public scrutiny and praise that we find a way to our true centers even though both can seemingly be unbearable at times. Teaching has taught me not to take myself so seriously and that if I disregard the worst and the most glowing evaluations, a realistic assessment of my performance will be more possible to attain.
My hardest lessons taught and learned were in the courses that attempted to challenge my movement beyond rhetorical multicultural content and right into the heart of diversity matters. Whether it was Ethics, Introduction to Psychotherapy, The Psychology of Women or Multicultural Issues in Psychology, there remained four constant core threads. My very presence assured that race, class, gender and culture were woven into the tapestry of each classroom encounter. Depending on oneâs viewpoint, intricate patterns would begin to emerge and captivate imaginations, or some would remain distracted by the tattered strings and knots on the other side.
Sometimes it seems impossible to get to the deep thoughts that penetrate and linger, as Danny seemed so capable of doing consistently and with ease. One day in particular, I found it painfully hard to engage in any meaningful dialogue beyond a superficial level. Aside from dealing with viral flu residuals, I just could not muster up enough strength to say what needed to be said around racism and feminismâtwo themes that the students chose to react to on that day. It began with one woman insisting that white
Now, as I reflect on the impact of my examples of excellence in early childhood and post-secondary education, it is easy to see their influence on my teaching philosophy and approach. In each scenario, there were wisdom seeds planted in those lessons that would eventually blossom when the time was right. Mrs. McClain, Mrs. Knudsen and Dr. Scarborough were foundational figures in helping to foster my personal and professional growth. Clearly, they spoke with hope and truth about who I was and was yet to become.
Certainly, this early grounding would sustain me in the ensuing season of harsh criticisms and judgments that seemed to color my graduate school experience. In fact, it was the remembrance of being identified as âgiftedâ in elementary school and in the African-centered framework in the Department of African-American Studies at the university I attended that helped to remove doubts about my ability to pursue a doctorate in clinical psychology. In particular, Dr. Shirley Weber, Dr. Shirley Thomas and Dr. Norman Chambers provided a rich, culturally centered context that would later serve to enhance my practice as a psychologist. For them, and what they shared, I remain eternally grateful.
Although I havenât published a magazine article yet, Ebony is still a possibility. Indeed, I am not a cultural anthropologist. However, much like Zora, my love for writing, inquiry and the desire to connect past, present and future are ever so strong. When I teach, I seek to inspire, reach and engage students in the manner that my elders did. Even though a good foundation for teaching was in place, it surprised me that having a passion for the discipline, respect for students and a love for learning would not be enough.
Right before the start of graduate school, my childhood friend and I returned to our elementary school to see Mrs. Knudsen. She still remembered us and was happy to hear of our achievements. Years later, after giving my card to her cousin at our twentieth high school reunion, Mrs. Knudsen sent me a postcard full of positive praises. Itâs amazing how good that still feels and so much of what has unfolded is because of what she poured into my life.
It is in the blending of public scrutiny and praise that we find a way to our true centers even though both can seemingly be unbearable at times. Teaching has taught me not to take myself so seriously and that if I disregard the worst and the most glowing evaluations, a realistic assessment of my performance will be more possible to attain.
My hardest lessons taught and learned were in the courses that attempted to challenge my movement beyond rhetorical multicultural content and right into the heart of diversity matters. Whether it was Ethics, Introduction to Psychotherapy, The Psychology of Women or Multicultural Issues in Psychology, there remained four constant core threads. My very presence assured that race, class, gender and culture were woven into the tapestry of each classroom encounter. Depending on oneâs viewpoint, intricate patterns would begin to emerge and captivate imaginations, or some would remain distracted by the tattered strings and knots on the other side.
Sometimes it seems impossible to get to the deep thoughts that penetrate and linger, as Danny seemed so capable of doing consistently and with ease. One day in particular, I found it painfully hard to engage in any meaningful dialogue beyond a superficial level. Aside from dealing with viral flu residuals, I just could not muster up enough strength to say what needed to be said around racism and feminismâtwo themes that the students chose to react to on that day. It began with one woman insisting that white
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