Teaching experience #1: Being the white one in the room

As inappropriate and insensitive as it may sound, ignore that feeling and know that this is not mal-intended. /end disclosure

My life as a teacher started quickly and led me to a school in which the biggest population accounted for was black. I, not being black -- and having viewed many inspirational movies of white teachers inspiring black kids --, knew that a) this isn't the movies and b) I'm still white. My teaching experience, never forget it, has changed my scope on education --for the better -- for good. It went a little something like this:

Day 1: Teacher gets integrated into school. Is awkward.

Day 2: Teacher starts talking to students*. Note: Read students as the suck-ups.

Days 3-6: Earn trust, make a fool out of yourself, and tell them you aren't going to get mad at them.

Okay, admittedly, days 1-6 are similiar to most experiences... that... was about to change.

Day 7: Leave iPod open -- I sounded old, correct to ON --, kids snatch it and see "Chris Brown" as most recently played. Get asked about my preferred choice of music and name "reggaeton and rap" as your favorites -- no really, they are. Not just trying to fit in. But I digress, the kids' attentions were directly on me. They could not believe that a teacher, who happened to be white liked rap. I instantly became a focus for the following time there. I was a project. Until then, they told me, they had thought that white people only liked country. When I asked if that was a fair assumption, they said, "Well yea, they* say we all like rap. And I guess that's true so ours must be true, too. Plus, you ain't ghetto." It's true. I wasn't

Day 8: Get my ghetto on. The following days I was taught to dance to various rap songs, to rap -- read: kind of rap -- and to reach these kids on a new level. The excitement flew through the room. Daily chores were riddled with beats and lyrics of what we were doing. Every new topic was accompanied by a dance... well I didn't dance, but they sure did. I enjoyed it. Relished it if you may. In fact, I, being the project, made them my little project. I felt like I was in the movies... dancing along and finding a common ground with the students. Reality: I was just young enough to actually know what they're talking about and actually dance.

Departure: Leaving that school made me realize a few things about myself.

1. I cannot dance

2. I, still, have no rhythm.

3. Kids make wonderfully silly assumptions.

4. I is in fact white.

5. School isn't just about memorizing what to do by doing worksheets.

6. Dancing is really fun when teaching about exponents. Remind me to show you.

7. Life is beautiful. Simple. And amazing when you realize what a little dancing can do.

8. Watch out Ellen. I dance... sort of. (See ex. #1)