“Education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world” – Nelson Mandela
Sorry (but not sorry) to start off with such an instagram-styled quote. But a couple of months ago The Move posted a poll on twitter to ask followers ‘How many black teachers/academics have taught you throughout your education?’ This was following a research report which found that:
- Out of more than 18,000 professors at UK universities, only about 110 are black
- Only 3.2% of academic managers, directors and senior officials are from ethnic minorities
The results from our poll were shocking to us, and based off of the quote tweets we were receiving, it was also shocking to respondents, many who had never reflected on their educational experience in that way:
Out of the 809 people that voted in the poll apx:
- 421 had between 1-3 teachers/lecturers
- 154 had 4-6
- a lucky 121 had 7+
- leaving 113 who had none
(Thought I’d throw a graph to be extra fancy lol)
Upon engaging in a series of heated conversations, it was generally concluded that the issue is not that black teachers & academics are being denied jobs, but rather that they aren’t applying in the first place. Teaching is not perceived as a glamorous career. So often in the media we see complaints about pensions, long hours, little pay, and constant curriculum changes (e.g. going from ABC grades to 123 grades – like wth does ‘123’ mean and why did it need to change!?)
Most of the young black people I know tend to be pursue entrepreneurial ventures and/or aspire to enter a high status profession (such as accountancy, law, engineering, or anything in the private sector tbh), without investigating the benefits of a profession such as teaching (an obscene amount of holiday, freedom to run clubs/sports, & the opportunity to get a guaranteed job anywhere in the world).
But these hyper-popularised career aspirations isn’t a trend that started with this current generation entering work, but rather evolved with us. In many black households (when I say black I mean Black British – I cannot speak for the rest), there is often an indication as to the type of profession parents want their children to enter. Quite often, they fall into four categories: law, medicine, accounting, and engineering. It usually went something like this in my own household:
Me – * reading Jacqueline Wilson as an unsuspecting 9 yr old *
Granddad – “Yes my dear, keep reading dem books an become a lawyer”
Me – “I want to be a writer”
Granddad – “You’ll be a lawyer”
I imagine many descendants of immigrants had similar conversations with their elders. It makes sense for children and grandchildren of immigrants to be pushed into such specific careers because when leaving their home country they were not coming to Britain for the weather, but to pursue a life which was better than the one they were leaving behind. Such professions were and are indicators of economic well-being, a prestigious education, job security no matter the climate, and most importantly, status, respect, and power. But, in many cases, people are often motivated by an image of success which they can see on a regular basis.
A friend of mine is currently training to be a teacher. He went to visit the school that he would be teaching at for the next academic year and got into conversation with a young black girl who was showing him around. She was simultaneously fascinated and sceptical of him, asking an array of questions on scattered topics. When she was made aware that he would be teaching at her school, the fascination and scepticism only heightened. Partially because he was black, more so because he’s from south London, but mostly because she “didn’t know there were smart West Indians”. His immediate reaction was laughter, but when this was met with a face filled with confusion, he realised that that was a genuine comment. Not out of disrespect, just straight honesty, which was saddening as she is of West Indian descent.
Having role models who look like you, come from your area, speak your language etc, is so important in forming the image of intelligence amongst youth. It normalises success in the image of self.
Young, black educated people have a responsibility to those coming up behind us. With all the violence we see on the news all too often, we often take to Twitter in despair and outrage over what is happening to kids who are wearing the same shoes we were in a few short years ago. But, sadly, few of us take a few years to pursue a profession to mould and impact this generation.
The presence of black teachers allows for the advocation of black books in English classes and black plays in drama classes. It provides room for the advocation of black history to be taught outside of October. It enables a wider palette of class discussions and school events. It breaks down stereotypes, and ultimately provides an image of intellect in the form of oneself.
Many of us often look at other minority groups and ask why we cannot be as united as them. Why there are so many divisions and conflicts amongst our own people. To a certain extent I feel like this is an over exaggeration as many cultures and races suffer from internal divisions however, I believe that the truth of this statement lies in our perception of success. We as a people need to focus more on collective rather than individual success. We need to genuinely care about those coming up as if they were our own younger siblings our cousins, because when we are gone, who will be there to teach about you? To carry on your names? To continue what you have started?
@CillaHope_
TheMoveHub.com
cillahope 