It was 5 a.m.—right before I was due to rise, dress, get my two children ready to go to church—and tears began to stream down my face. I was struck by the irony of my emotion: Seven years before, I’d been crying because I thought I had a serious illness and could not have children. This morning, I was crying because of my children: in particular, my boy child, about whom I was desperately worried, unsure how to help him navigate the everyday world of school as an African-American male.
[For more of this story, written by Keffrelyn D. Brown, go to http://www.psmag.com/politics-...dge-in-the-classroom]
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