Ignorance as illiteracy

Educational scholarship on the importance of taking a critical multicultural stance toward education is comprehensive (e.g., see Woodson, 2018; Jay, 2003; Ladson-Billings, 2004; Delpit, 2006; Christensen, 2009; Au, 2014).

As facilitators of “diversity-related” institutional initiatives, we often view the predominantly white faculty as unaware and/or uninformed. The normalization of the ignorance of white educators, in particular, and white people, in general, sets up conditions for our problematic assumptions/default narratives we use to make sense of the world to go unchecked and uninterrogated. As Stevenson (2014) explains, “individuals [e.g., teachers] who can’t develop personal rationales for controlling racial bias may not be equipped to self-critique their misperceptions and stereotypes” (p.102). That said, Barton and Hamilton (2000) speak to the “fluid” and “dynamic” nature of literacy practices, which suggest the boundaries of distinct discourses within a community may not be as rigid as they appear. Critically reframing our ignorance as illiteracy calls us to actively work to educate ourselves and critically reflect on the behaviors we have come to consider “appropriate” in the face of racial inequity resulting from generational financial theft and racialized violence (Anderson, 2016; Thandeka, 2013). 

Boutte and Jackson (2014) suggest viewing teachers (even those who resist) as learners provides teacher educators with an opportunity to “determine a strategy based on where [teachers] are in their development and understanding of the issues” (p.627). McAllister (2002) similarly suggests a process-oriented model for faculty professional development:

Process-oriented models, which describe how people grow in terms of their cultural identities or worldviews, can assist educators in three areas: understanding teachers’ behaviors (including resistance), sequencing course content, and creating conducive learning environments. (p.17)

What if we understood/recognized resistance engagement?

As I worked to increase my racial literacy, I began to see how my tacit and overt theories about how the world worked were based in and for a world that was almost exclusively white by design (Rothstein, 2017; Tatum, 1997). As a teacher, I came to understand -- through critical self-reflection and practitioner inquiry -- my reliance on default narratives about myself, our classrooms, and our students helped to numb me to the oppressive nature and violence of an anti-Black racial hierarchy and an inequitable status quo (Yancy, 2016). From this vantage point, the “perfectly logical explanation” I once proclaimed as standing in the way of progress -- that is, the ignorance of other white faculty -- seemed self-serving and defensive (Michael, 2015, p.31). This also provided me with insight into the “folk pedagogies” that guide the way I engaged with my students (Gee, 2015). As a consequence, I was more open to inviting and hearing feedback from my colleagues about how my pedagogical approach appeared discursively similar to the problematic white savior narrative. 

As my racial literacy increased, I became more confident in my ability to fully engage in institutional and societal critiques. I now believe that many of our faculty already possess the skills they need to engage in critical reflection and critique of the status quo in our community. That said, discourses are inherently ideological and set the terms for what is considered a “legitimate” critique. We need to develop mastery over a new discourse -- i.e., the racial literacy discourse -- in order to gain the meta-level knowledge we need to critique our content-area and dominant societal discourses (Gee, 2001). From my perspective as a white, cisgender man, I have come to understand Stevenson’s (2014) “racial literacy” as functionally analogous to Gee’s (1989) definition of powerful literacy:

Powerful literacy is control of a secondary use of language used in a secondary discourse that can serve as a meta-discourse to critique the primary discourse or other secondary discourses, including dominant discourses. (p.23)

I believe that increasing our racial literacy will allow us to employ many of the same skills we currently associate with passionate intellectual inquiry in (what we commonly consider) the core academic arena to “tarry” with our whiteness (Yancy, 2016, p.xv). For example, instead of saying “I wasn’t trained,” I remind myself part of being accountable is increasing my racial literacy so I -- to borrow the words of one participant -- do not have to accept things solely based on faith.