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A review by shan1212
Learning in Public: Lessons for a Racially Divided America from My Daughter's School by Courtney E. Martin
2.0
Reading this was difficult in ways I did not expect. I believe in and practice school integration, and I can relate to the author in many ways. I've had those awkward, cringe-worthy interactions across lines of difference where I am trying my best but failing to see so many pitfalls caused by my own biases. And I am a patreon of the author's newsletter; I generally find her very inspiring and contemplative. So it was a surprise to me that I had so many big feelings reading this.
I was not expecting the book to be so detailed in putting not only the author's journey and mess out there, but the journeys and mess of the other players in the book . . . the disabled single Black dad, the aggressive white mom who feels entitled to tell the principal and teacher how to do their jobs (who winds up being an obvious foil to the author), the inscrutable Black preK teacher. I believe the author had their permission and presented herself as a journalist who was trying to report on this as objectively as possible, but I was surprised to discover that she didn't change the names of the schools or anyone who was even remotely a public figure.
Perhaps because I could relate so much to the author's experiences, I was imagining if I were putting out the words and actions of my principal, my kids' teachers, the parents whom I befriend, etc. in a book. It felt invasive and exploitative, literally making money off of sharing these things. And knowing that these events all happened within the last couple of years only magnified that feeling. How can you painstakingly build trust despite systemic obstacles and power imbalances if you are recording and publishing everything your newfound friend says?
Maybe it was the author's journalism background that convinced her to be so detailed in sharing her interactions with other players, but I wish she had taken more of a general view. If journalism was her goal, she could have interviewed other parents experiencing segregation and integration from different viewpoints. But to write a detailed memoir about this subject, I think it would have been best to wait for more distance from the events (if my math is correct, her oldest is only starting 2nd grade). It took the founder of Integrated Schools many years to feel emboldened to guide others.
I do appreciate that she did the work of asking for feedback from a Black mentor, but I can see the point of Danzy Senna in her review in the Atlantic when she says, "The world these writers [Martin and Robin DiAngelo] evoke is one in which white people remain the center of the story and Black people are at the margins, poor, stiff, and dignified, with little better to do than open their homes and hearts to white women on journeys to racial self-awareness." On one hand, I love that Martin was so honest and retained the turns of phrase where her bias came out (calling the single dad a "creature"), but on the other, I can imagine prospective integrators thinking, "Well shoot, I don't have a Black PhD waiting to give feedback on my every move . . . should I give up before I start?" Most importantly, I don't think ANY white person should expect to be shepherded by people of color.
In full disclosure, it could just be me. I am not a memoir reader; I haven't even read the Obamas' memoirs. Maybe I got too into my head; maybe I don't like being in other people's heads. If you are someone who finds joy and inspiration reading memoirs, or if you are someone who doesn't know much about segregation or the common pitfalls to practicing antiracist school integration, then this book may be just for you.
What I did like . . . the history and sociology, the more creative sections (poems and important phrases repeated many times), the awareness brought to the evil of segregation. I see positive reviews and I am thankful that my experience is not universal. I know that privileged white folks need to say, hey, hello, I have been hugely oblivious to my biases and here's how I'm learning to spot them and change direction. It's important and necessary. I just wish it had been done in a different way.
ETA: One more area that weighed heavily on my heart was the portrayal of the author as the emotional support of the teachers during the pandemic, and her end note that she'll see the teachers "on the field at sunset."
I attended a workshop with the late Courtney Mykytyn, founder of Integrated Schools, and she was very adamant that white parents *not* be the BFF of the teacher because that's a white parent thing. I was a teacher and goodness knows they need support, but the white parent as a texting buddy of the teacher, as a *peer* and friend, is part of white supremacy culture and further perpetuates power imbalances when that's not the expectation or position held by Black and Brown parents. If there's a wish list I quietly buy from it, but I try to maintain a professional distance from the teachers and staff.
It's all well and good to aim for self-awareness, to struggle over how to show up and how not to, but if in the end you're the PTA president and have made yourself integral to the entire staff, is it OK to perpetuate white supremacy culture patterns because people just like you so darn much?
Again, I circle back to . . . this was too much, too soon. I wish the author well on her journey. I know she has a sharp mind and open heart.
Update Dec. 2022: I met a mom recently who was inspired by this book to pull her child from private school and put them in a hyper-segregated school. So again I thought, maybe it's just me. Maybe if you haven't been introduced to the idea of not putting your child in a privileged school, this book is a good starting point.
I was not expecting the book to be so detailed in putting not only the author's journey and mess out there, but the journeys and mess of the other players in the book . . . the disabled single Black dad, the aggressive white mom who feels entitled to tell the principal and teacher how to do their jobs (who winds up being an obvious foil to the author), the inscrutable Black preK teacher. I believe the author had their permission and presented herself as a journalist who was trying to report on this as objectively as possible, but I was surprised to discover that she didn't change the names of the schools or anyone who was even remotely a public figure.
Perhaps because I could relate so much to the author's experiences, I was imagining if I were putting out the words and actions of my principal, my kids' teachers, the parents whom I befriend, etc. in a book. It felt invasive and exploitative, literally making money off of sharing these things. And knowing that these events all happened within the last couple of years only magnified that feeling. How can you painstakingly build trust despite systemic obstacles and power imbalances if you are recording and publishing everything your newfound friend says?
Maybe it was the author's journalism background that convinced her to be so detailed in sharing her interactions with other players, but I wish she had taken more of a general view. If journalism was her goal, she could have interviewed other parents experiencing segregation and integration from different viewpoints. But to write a detailed memoir about this subject, I think it would have been best to wait for more distance from the events (if my math is correct, her oldest is only starting 2nd grade). It took the founder of Integrated Schools many years to feel emboldened to guide others.
I do appreciate that she did the work of asking for feedback from a Black mentor, but I can see the point of Danzy Senna in her review in the Atlantic when she says, "The world these writers [Martin and Robin DiAngelo] evoke is one in which white people remain the center of the story and Black people are at the margins, poor, stiff, and dignified, with little better to do than open their homes and hearts to white women on journeys to racial self-awareness." On one hand, I love that Martin was so honest and retained the turns of phrase where her bias came out (calling the single dad a "creature"), but on the other, I can imagine prospective integrators thinking, "Well shoot, I don't have a Black PhD waiting to give feedback on my every move . . . should I give up before I start?" Most importantly, I don't think ANY white person should expect to be shepherded by people of color.
In full disclosure, it could just be me. I am not a memoir reader; I haven't even read the Obamas' memoirs. Maybe I got too into my head; maybe I don't like being in other people's heads. If you are someone who finds joy and inspiration reading memoirs, or if you are someone who doesn't know much about segregation or the common pitfalls to practicing antiracist school integration, then this book may be just for you.
What I did like . . . the history and sociology, the more creative sections (poems and important phrases repeated many times), the awareness brought to the evil of segregation. I see positive reviews and I am thankful that my experience is not universal. I know that privileged white folks need to say, hey, hello, I have been hugely oblivious to my biases and here's how I'm learning to spot them and change direction. It's important and necessary. I just wish it had been done in a different way.
ETA: One more area that weighed heavily on my heart was the portrayal of the author as the emotional support of the teachers during the pandemic, and her end note that she'll see the teachers "on the field at sunset."
I attended a workshop with the late Courtney Mykytyn, founder of Integrated Schools, and she was very adamant that white parents *not* be the BFF of the teacher because that's a white parent thing. I was a teacher and goodness knows they need support, but the white parent as a texting buddy of the teacher, as a *peer* and friend, is part of white supremacy culture and further perpetuates power imbalances when that's not the expectation or position held by Black and Brown parents. If there's a wish list I quietly buy from it, but I try to maintain a professional distance from the teachers and staff.
It's all well and good to aim for self-awareness, to struggle over how to show up and how not to, but if in the end you're the PTA president and have made yourself integral to the entire staff, is it OK to perpetuate white supremacy culture patterns because people just like you so darn much?
Again, I circle back to . . . this was too much, too soon. I wish the author well on her journey. I know she has a sharp mind and open heart.
Update Dec. 2022: I met a mom recently who was inspired by this book to pull her child from private school and put them in a hyper-segregated school. So again I thought, maybe it's just me. Maybe if you haven't been introduced to the idea of not putting your child in a privileged school, this book is a good starting point.