Universities help shape cities. Historical forms of racial domination repeat themselves, reproducing spatial subordination. In Denver, residences and businesses owned by families of color will be cleared as Colorado State University (CSU), two museums, and the mayor’s office redevelop the area to build an educational hub. An examination of Citizens Advisory Committee (CAC) meeting transcripts shows that relationships between the higher education institution and the city are changing in racialized ways, as normative institutions overpower low-income communities of color. Reading discursive events from CAC meetings through a theoretical lens reveals the CSU expansion to be an instance of a predominantly white institution working with city leaders to remove people from land so it can be used to better fulfill economic ambitions, exemplifying theories about the spatialization of race and the racialization of space (Lipsitz, 2006, 2007, 2011). This occurrence has implications for higher education researchers and municipal leaders beyond Denver.
This article explores intersectional organizing as a strategy to create solidarity across issues, organizations and communities to build a more united educational justice movement. By intersectional organizing, we mean an organizing strategy that centers the experiences and leadership of people who are affected by multiple forms of oppression. We conducted interviews with ten community organizers who engage parents and young people of color to address the profound inequities in public education. We found that the movement is largely siloed into separate issue-based campaigns, although there are promising examples that connect groups and issues. Organizers believe that intersectional organizing can support greater cross-movement solidarity especially when combined with other processes, including building deep relationships, developing conscious leadership with shared understandings of systemic oppression through political education, and building trust through demonstrated long-term commitments to solidarity in practice. Nevertheless, many warn against an “Oppression Olympics” that creates competition rather than solidarity.
In Southwest Atlanta, urban education reform and gentrification have intersected to create the perfect collision of housing and educational displacement of Black students, Black families, and Black teachers. While Black communities are dealing with the impacts of gentrification, Black schools are simultaneously witnessing shifts that uproot students and their teachers. As a teacher participatory action research (PAR) collective, we share our personal experiences of housing displacement and how it has impacted our students, our communities, and our ability to maintain our positions as community-centered teachers. In this article, we acclimate readers to Atlanta, Georgia, and the Southwest Atlanta region in which we serve. We also illustrate how we have confronted the displacement of our students and ourselves. Finally, we highlight the significance of community-centered teachers operating within a Critical Studyin’ for Human Freedom praxis in the struggle against systemic inequities that persistently plague our students and communities.
This special issue of The Assembly contains a collection of scholarly articles focused on the phenomena of place and displacement as they occur in and near public education. These articles contribute to the growing field of community-based education research by instigating thought, discourse, and action that deepens the relationships between community members and researchers in the face of social, political, and economic disruption. Each of the articles published in this special issue demonstrates some of what is possible when researchers situate their inquiry in local communities, focus on outcomes and implications of community displacement, and take on community experiences and questions in order to collaborate on the development and design of collaborative, community-based research.
Arguments that appeal to an oversimplified “biology” are commonly used to exclude transgender people from gender-segregated spaces and from public life. In schools, many transgender youth are mistreated and feel unsafe. Biology teachers have a unique opportunity to change the school climate by teaching in a way that includes and affirms diverse gender identities rather than omitting or alienating them. For teachers, school leaders, and policymakers, I present a framework for a gender-inclusive biology curriculum. I share lessons that I have implemented and my reflections on how this kind of curriculum can positively impact student attitudes, engagement, and learning. Argumentos que resultan atractivos a una “biología” sobre-simplificada se usan a menudo para excluir personas de identidad transgénero de espacios segregados por género y de la vida pública. En las escuelas, muchos jóvenes de identidad transgénero son maltratados y se sienten inseguros. Los docentes de biología tienen una oportunidad única para cambiar el ambiente escolar al enseñar de una manera que incluya y afirme la diversidad en identidades de género en vez de omitirlas o alienarlas. Para docentes, líderes en las escuelas, y legisladores, yo presento un esquema para un currículo de biología inclusivo de género. Comparto lecciones que he implementado y mis reflexiones de cómo este tipo de currículo puede impactar en una manera positiva la actitud del estudiante y su participación y aprendizaje de forma positiva.
We discuss what we have learned as youth and adult volunteers in a youth-led, community-based LGBTQ+ youth group in the Midwest United States. Based on our experiences in schools and conversations with educators, we make a distinction between allyship for and advocacy alongside LGBTQ+ youth. We offer what we see as five important ways to promote a generative school climate for LGBTQ+ individuals. For each, we discuss what we see as the practical difference between the approaches of allies versus those of advocates. Through these ideas, we hope to engage teachers, administrators, and other youth in conversation around the importance of listening to youth expertise and experience when trying to create more inclusive classrooms and schools.
Much of education research in recent years has focused on how the bullying and victimization of LGBTQ+ students and youth with disabilities (YWD) can lead to increased challenges and limited opportunities later in life. However, few studies have focused on how bullying and victimization affects students who both have disabilities and identify as LGBTQ+ or on how specific practices could improve both their experiences in school and their success later in life. YWD face the same challenges when it comes to puberty, social identity, and planning for adult roles as their non-disabled peers, but they are more likely to struggle with developing their identity and thinking about their future, particularly if they identify as LGBTQ+, which is why educators and parents must work together to advocate for changes that promote an inclusive, safe, and just environment for all students. In this article, we offer guidance using evidence-based promising practices (EBPPs) to improve educational settings for LGBTQ+ YWD that is informed by our work at the state, local, and classroom levels. Gran parte de las investigaciones en educación en los últimos años se han enfocado en como el acoso y la victimización de los estudiantes LGBTQ+ y estudiantes con discapacidades pueden llevarlos a un aumento de desafíos y menos oportunidades más tarde en sus vidas. Sin embargo, pocas investigaciones se han enfocado en como el acoso y la victimización afecta a los estudiantes con discapacidades o identificados como LGBTQ+ o en como prácticas específicas pueden mejorar sus experiencias escolares y a la vez su éxito en el futuro. Los estudiantes con discapacidades enfrentan los mismo retos que sus compañeros sin discapacidades cuando se trata de la pubertad, identidad social, y en planear para su rol como adultos, pero tienen más dificultad en luchar con el desarrollo de su identidad y en pensar en su futuro, especialmente si se identifican como LGBTQ+, por lo tanto es importante que los docentes y padres de familia trabajen juntos para abogar para cambios que promuevan un ambiente inclusivo, seguro, y justo para todos los estudiantes. En este artículo, ofrecemos consejos utilizando prácticas prometedoras basadas en evidencias para mejorar el ambiente educativo para estudiantes LGBTQ+ con discapacidades que están informadas en nuestro trabajo al nivel estatal, local y de aula.
In this Dialogues we are highlighting educators, community members, and researchers whose work focuses on advocacy for lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and queer or questioning (LGBTQ+) students in educational institutions. Despite greater visibility, more legal protections, and seemingly greater support for LGBTQ+ individuals, LGBTQ+ students in K-12 schools still face hostile school environments with little to no representation in school curricula. The Gay, Lesbian and Straight Education Network’s most recent school climate report found that over half the LGBTQ+, or queer, students surveyed reported facing regular bullying and harassment. Additionally, trans and gender nonconforming students, and transgender people in the United States at large, face threats to their rights under the Trump presidency.
In this article, I aim to support teachers and other educators as they begin or continue the work of creating LGBTQ-inclusive classrooms. To support teachers, I organize my suggestions within three touchstones that have been helpful to me as a middle school language arts teacher: Choose to be vulnerable, Choose to change your instruction, Choose the work as your path. En este artículo, mi objetivo es apoyar docentes y educadores a medida que ellos inician o continúan el trabajo de crear aulas inclusivas de LGBTQ. Para apoyar a los docentes, he organizado mis sugerencias dentro de tres elementos esenciales que han sido útiles para mi como maestra de artes y lenguaje ( inglés) en la escuela media: Elige ser vulnerable, Elige cambiar tu instrucción, Elige el trabajo como tu camino.
Marginalized queers have experienced the “Coatlicue State” (Anzaldúa, 2012). Seeing and being seen in front of the public are painful to us. We feel ashamed due to stereotypes placed by heteronormativity and heterosexism. In this small space, I hope to accomplish one simple thing: break down different layers of shame to ask for understanding and empathy. I write this piece to embrace us—queer marginalized voices—in schools and in academia. This dialogue will thus open doors to discussions inside and outside of a “circle”. The suggestion at the end of this article hopes to touch on insiders and outsiders of this circle. Los queers marginados han experimentado “la Herencia de Coatlicue” (Anzaldúa, 2012). Nos duele ver y ser visto frente al público. Nos sentimos avergonzados debido a los estereotipos producidos por la heteronormatividad y heterosexismo. En este pequeño espacio espero lograr una cosa muy sencilla: deconstruir las diferentes capas de vergüenza para hacer una llamada al entendimiento y la empatía. Escribo este artículo para que sean acogidas las voces marginadas queer en la escuela y la academia. Por lo tanto, este diálogo abre puertas a conversaciones dentro y fuera de un “círculo”. Con la sugerencia al final de este artículo, se espera abordar a las personas cuyas identidades se ubican adentro o afuera de este círculo.
