A Social Experiment for Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Day

A few years ago I took a chance with my class of nine to twelve year old students with Autism. It was the week before Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Day and we had read books, watched movie clips, and done all the "equality" crossword puzzles I could find to learn about Dr. King's work. I knew, being literal thinkers, my students didn't really understand what Dr. King was fighting for. When we discussed Dr. King, I got the same response "We should be nice to each other." They didn't comprehend that people were actually restricted from places, activities, and opportunities because of the color of their skin. I knew I would have to find a new way to reach them.

After lunch, we were scheduled to play board games, a time I use to incorporate turn taking, conversation, and negotiation skills. This time would be different. I handed out purple and green stickers and instructed students to put them on their shirts. They said "Thanks, Ms. Cerbasi" and got up to choose a game. I asked everyone to sit down. 

"Today the rules for game time will be different," I began. "If you have a purple sticker, you can choose any game you want. You can sit at any table you want but you can only play with someone wearing a purple sticker." The purple sticker group went on their way. "Orange stickers. You cannot play games today. You must sit at your desks." 

"But Ms. Cerbasi! I want to play a game! That's not fair!"

I let the orange sticker group express their disbelief at my rule. The purple sticker group stopped what they were doing and looked at their peers. They all looked at me to see what I would do. I could see they were confused and nervous about this change of routine.

"Everyone sit down and listen. Today I changed the rules because I wanted you to learn about Dr. King. People with purple stickers, how did you feel when I told you that you could play any game?" They told me they were happy and excited. 

"People with orange stickers, how did you feel when I said you could not play a game at all?" I heard the words angry, sad, and unfair.

"That's right. It is not fair that people with purple stickers can do whatever they want and people with orange stickers could not play a game at all. Everyone should be allowed to play games together." 

I wasn't sure how to phrase the next question so they would make the connection between our experiment in class with discrimination. 

"Think about how the purple and orange groups were separate. Think about how some people were allowed to play games and some people were not. What do you think happened many years ago before Dr. King talked about being fair to everyone? Why is it so important that Dr. King said he wanted everyone to be able to work and play together?"

The room was quiet for a minute until one little boy raised his hand. 

"Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. didn't care if your skin was brown or white. He wanted everyone to go to the same places and to do the same things. He said you shouldn't be mean to someone just 'cause their skin is brown, like me."

He hung his head and tears filled his eyes.

"You're right. And one thing that is really good about Dr. King's work is that now we can all work together in our classroom and it doesn't matter what color your skin is." 

A smile spread across his face. The children in my class began to put their arms next to each other and compare their skin color. They talked about the differences in skin color, hair color, eye color, age, and gender they saw among themselves. They talked about places they could go and things they could do together, regardless of what they looked like. 

Clearly, the depth of our social experiment was surface level and did not illustrate the extent of the mistreatment people suffered, but in our small classroom community, with our own rules, my students understood that it is unacceptable to treat people differently because of what they look like, what they have, or where they come from. 

Tutor's Tips: This holiday is not a day for children to sleep late and play video games. Make sure the lesson of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr's work impacts your children today.

Liar, Liar, Pants on Fire

A Twitter buddy, @KTsDivaMom , reached out to say hello and I took the chance to catch up on her blog posts I hadn't read in awhile. I found a post about an interaction she had with her son. 

Her son had been sick and could not practice his musical instrument. She agreed he could take a break but would have to make up the hours as he had to fill out a log sheet to document his practice sessions for school. The sheet had to be signed by a parent and returned to the teacher. After a gentle reminder, she allowed him to make his own choice about his use of time; like most 11 year olds, he chose video games over practice. The time came to sign the sheet and as she picked up her pen to sign the paper, she saw her son had lied about his practice time. She would not sign the paper. In fact, she crossed off the hours he had tried to slip in.

This struck me so deeply. This mother could have signed the paper and allowed her son to bring it back to school. The music teacher would have been none the wiser and her son would have returned to his scheduled practice sessions. She chose the high road and her son will surely benefit from that. 

By allowing your child to engage in a lie, even a teeny, tiny, perhaps white lie, you are teaching him that he can avoid consequences, he doesn't have to take responsibility for his own choices, and that manipulating others is acceptable. Now, as a parent, if your child suffers a consequence, you likely suffer, too. Since this mom did not sign the paper, there may have been a note sent home, saying "Please remind your son to practice" or an uncomfortable phone call from the teacher saying "You need to help him stay on track." Though a small consequence, it's a consequence all the same. You may think to sign the paper because it's a simple thing, not a big lie.  By lying to avoid consequences for yourself ("I don't have time to deal with this!"), you teach your child he can make poor choices and get by. Her son made his own choice not to practice and she taught him to stand on his own two feet. His lie is his lie alone. She was not going to save him. She also followed up with why the lie was bad. She talked about what it takes to be great at something- the hard work, dedication, and commitment. You're only cheating yourself if you fib.

Remember small choices eventually add up and equal habits. White lies can turn into hurtful lies. Poor choices at a young age lead to poor choices in adulthood, where the consequences are greater. Honesty is truly one of the greatest character traits you can model for your children. Even if it means you the parent get in a little trouble at school. 

Tutor's Tip: A quick fix for you is a lifelong problem for him. Help your child live an honest life. 

A Grandmother's Influence

When my sister, cousins, and I were younger and we disagreed with a male member of the family, my Nana used to laugh and tell us "Boys are stupid." Though you may question her choice of words, and, as a child, I certainly thought this was outrageously silly, the message she conveyed is now clear. Nana taught us that we don't need a man's permission or approval; in fact, she taught us the best way to get what we want is to go out and get it for ourselves. 

Our grandmothers are our strongest female role models because they know who they are. Young mothers in their twenties and thirties are still evolving, learning who they are as women, wives, and mothers. Grandmothers have already discovered the values and morals that they stand by, the secrets to a long and happy marriage, and the tricks to make a baby fall asleep exactly when you want her to fall asleep. My grandmother readily shared these secrets but the key to her relationships with us is that she never passed judgement and never pushed advice on us. She would listen carefully and nod along as we shared our story. There was nothing that could shock or upset her; in her 83 years on this Earth, 63 years as a wife, 62 years as a mother, 36 years as a grandmother, and 6 years as a great-grandmother she'd heard it all and loved us anyway.

Each one of the women in my family has achieved great success and, of course, some setbacks in both our personal and professional lives. Each time, we have carried ourselves with grace and dignity and used the confidence my Nana instilled in us to enjoy our achievements or brush ourselves off and try again. 

Tutor's Tip: Make sure your daughters spend lots of time with their grandmothers- it will shape who they become as women.

Nana Banana

Right before Thanksgiving, my grandmother, Mildred Gangeri, passed away at home surrounded by her family. Thanks to the amazing people at Hospice, she was able to be comfortable in her own home and spend time with her family. When she realized she was in her final days, she said "I want my grandchildren." We had a family dinner like you've never seen! 28 people in a two bedroom apartment with easily 20 trays of food! We crammed into my grandparents home to celebrate Nana's journey and to share some laughs. What a day it was! We took a picture of the whole family that now sits in a frame on the coffee table. My grandfather proudly showed that picture to all who came to share their condolences upon her passing.

I've taken some time off from writing to get my thoughts together and in that time, I've reflected on who my grandmother was and how she shaped our family. I'll be sharing some thoughts on the impact she has had on my life. I hope you find something in my posts that strengthens your relationship with your family because, at the end of the day, these are the people who will lift you up, dust you off, and fill you with love. A strong, supportive, healthy family is the key to raising successful children. Though I enjoy my work as an educator, I've been drawn to supporting families in the home setting for this reason. My hope is my work and my writing will help others reap the benefits I've been blessed to have by being Mildred's granddaughter and a member of my family.