​Boys,

I don’t know when you will read this, or if that day will ever come, but I want to know that I am actively trying to avoid raising you to be white supremacists. 

Last week, August 11th-13th, 2017, there was a series of events in which white supremacists, white nationalists, neo-Nazis, and self-acclaimed members of alt-right groups marched in Charlottesville, VA and exercised what they felt to be a right under our constitution’s first amendment. They came in a very large group, holding tiki torches, and surrounded a statue of General Robert E. Lee, a man who they felt represented a part of history that they wanted to preserve. This is not the whole story here, but I’m certain you will have heard about it by now.

When I saw the pictures of that evening, I was upset. I was upset, in part, because one day you will look at these images and there will be a striking physical resemblance to you both. You’re white, you have privilege, and you like to sing (for now... hopefully you never lose that). Based on that alone, those men could have easily been you.

What you don’t see in that image is that these men are chanting hateful things, vile things, like“Jews will not replace us” and “blood and soil” as they made the ascent to the statue that cheers a racist general who fought on the side of maintaining slavery. Also, the irony is thick: “After the Civil War, Lee resisted efforts to build Confederate monuments in his honor and instead wanted the nation to move on from the Civil War.” (Washington Post) That monument was erected in the 1924, well after Lee had died, yet those who are marching feel it pertinent to preserve that reminder of our nation’s history. 

And you will hear those things; how will you react?

In Kindergarten, you were the only white male in your class and it was fulfilling to have you come home and describe your friends using every facet other than the color of their skin or their apparent country of origin. In fact, when you would watch baseball games, I almost corrected you a couple times when you asked if we wanted “the black guys to win or the white guys to win” before realizing you were talking about the color of their jersey and not the color of their skin.

(and no, we don’t want the Rockies to win; we’re Dodgers fans, boys)

It reminds me of something that former president Barack Obama tweeted out, and I think you currently embody quite well:

Right now, you and your friends have a certain level of blissful naivety to your world. Your biggest concerns of equity lie in ensuring you have a fair turn with the soccer ball, that you get the right-sized portions at meal time, and that you each get a book read to you. You walk out our front door and play with neighborhood kids who are black, latino, and white, and the only discrimination that occurs is not letting the youngest neighbor play because she always slows the games down. 

At some point, probably now that you’re reading this, you will realize that you have a much larger plate to fill.

What really scares me is that, in the picture of torch-wielding protesters, I assume very few of them were raised by white supremacists to be white supremacists in a white supremacist neighborhood that projected white supremacist ideology. Something happened along their timeline of learning that triggered them to follow an ideal so blasphemous, so hateful, to fly from all over the country to defend a despicable position.

What is stopping you boys from reading something that will cause you to lean in and listen to a position that your mother and I have kept you from for so long?

What is stopping you from looking at a picture showcasing white supremacy and thinking, yeah, I look like them?

What is stopping you from joining a movement rooted in hate and oppression?

Your lineage has survived Auschwitz, escaped World War, and rose from poverty, but none of that carries weight in the decisions you will make in your own life for your own path. With that, here is what I hope you will do:

Listen to--and learn from--all sides, not matter how difficult it may be. When something comes to you that does not appear right, listen. When someone challenges your beliefs, listen. When lines are drawn and sides are taken, be sure to listen to all of them. Because, as passionate as you are about your stance, the “other side” is just as passionate about theirs. Why is that? Can you find something in their rationale that gives you an entry point for respectable conversation? Maybe, maybe not.

Right now, while you are young, your mother and I are keeping you in a fairly politically-sterile environment. Truth be told, I didn’t really care about politics until I was in my late-20’s. As you get older, we will expose you to more, then talk to you about what we believe is right and giving a rationale for such beliefs. 

Ultimately, it will be up to you to choose where you stand, and we can only hope and pray that you choose to stand on the side of inclusivity, respect, and compassion.

Rather than hoisting a torch and shouting hate, we hope that you raise a candle and lend a hand.
Rather than taking a side and sticking to it, we hope that you listen to many positions and base your decision on the moral compass pointed toward civility.
Rather than joining white supremacy, we hope that you join in the efforts to end oppression.
Rather than giving up as you wrestle with your privilege, we hope that you embrace it and use it for good (like my friends Karl and Matt have done).

Your mother and I love you, boys. Know that.

Sincerely,


A concerned, but hopeful, father

The syllabus was handed out.
The overhead projector was at the front.
The march to the library for textbooks happened.
And then, when they returned, students were met with a question:

​Quite simple, really. All you have to do is pick one and justify it.
On Day 1 of the school year.
In Pre-Calculus.

The whole class was given four minutes of independent think and write time, and they hated it. Those four things look familiar, but it's been at least 3 months since I've used them; what are they?! The teacher then acknowledged, and condoned, that some students were looking through their textbooks for help.

You have one more minute.

Now, even more frustrated, students started whispering to each other. They were leaning over, asking if anyone around them remembered what radians were and how these all fit onto the unit circle. UNIT CIRCLE! I knew it!

Shhhhhh... No talking.

The time ended, and their new teacher, confident that it would all work out, had the class get up and join a corner of the room to represent the one that they felt did not belong. Now, and only now, were they to talk about why theirs was the one that didn't belong, then write the reasons they came up with onto the chart paper.

Each group discussed their reasonings with each other, but there was something off; there was uncertainty about what radians really were, even though the knew it from before. Pulling responses from around the room, the teacher let every group's voices be heard.

And then the bell rang. Class dismissed.

Afterwards, Paula and I met with the teacher and praised her for what we had just witnessed. On the first day of school, she found a way to get kids to want to talk to each other about math, look into their textbook for information, and anticipate tomorrow's lesson. That was phenomenal by itself, but Day 2 was only going to get better. 

Here's her reflection later in the day, via email, and shared with permission:

Y'know what, you should be smiling after you leave from your first day with a new set of kids. And for this to be the reason, I couldn't be happier.

On Day 2, she brought back the four WODB options from yesterday, then asked about the thorny one: radians. What are they? Why are they different? Can we do something with them?

Again, a class full of kids were curious and eager to hear more. 

She placed a paper plate onto each student desk as the class went up to create their own "tape measure" that would be used throughout the class, and spent the day creating markings for the tape along with their very own Unit Circle that can be used throughout the chapter (and beyond).

In order to make this work, it was best if the students paired up, cut out their strip of paper, held their partner's paper as the other looped it around the plate, and compared measurements. They looked at each other's markings on the plates and chided their partner if it was off by a lot, even mixed in a couple high fives for those who had similar measurements. 

After all, that's what the first days of school are for. In those two short days, this teacher used mathematics--specific to her content--to help students build a relationship with each other, to set the tone for how this class will go if you work together, and to build a trust in the teacher that there is a purpose for what we are doing in class.

Once Day 2 was over, I went up and thanked this teacher, because she absolutely rocked the intro to her class and allowed me to be a small part of it.

​My hope for you is that you find a way to make this happen in your class to start the school year, or at any point during the school year. It's good for the kids, it's good for you.

Happy "Smiling As You Leave" Fishing