On the day I was born, I think the earth shifted a little off its axis. I was born on January 11, 1978, to Marie and John Rossi of Cranston, RI at 11:11 pm. Given all the 1’s in my birthdate, one might think I’m replete with luck, but most days I am just barely skating by. Marie and John were just barely out of high school, married at 20, and a ripe 23 when they had me. A short 18 months later, my sister Gina was born, and I can’t remember a day in my life where we haven’t been connected. My sister and I were always surrounded with love. Maybe we were just lucky.
If I were to name one thing that truly defines me, it is my family. I remember being raised by two hippies as a white middle-class Italian-American kid. We lived in a small house in West Warwick, RI. It was always just the four of us–my mom, dad, sister, and I. In our home we always spoke English, but we “lived” Italian American. We had pasta every Wednesday and Sunday, celebrated the feast of the seven fishes every Christmas Eve, and even used Italian phrases when necessary like capisce, mangia, stunod (stonato) or cavone. From time to time, I even use these sentiments with my own kids. My parents were always very proud of our heritage and the hard work of our ancestors.
Both mom and dad have a strong work ethic, and I never “needed” for anything, but I certainly did not grow up surrounded by wealth. In fact, I remember moments when my parents weren’t sure how they might put dinner on the table, but they always managed to make it happen. My mom primarily stayed home and my dad worked–a lot. My dad’s father (Papa) founded a very successful pharmacy in Cranston and in its early years, my dad, uncles, and aunt worked incessantly to build the business. Every Sunday we would wait for Papa to close the store and we’d meet around my grandparent’s table filled with wine, bread, and pasta. There were LOTS of us and it was LOUD.
We all sat together while we ate and talked–the adults about politics, economics, and whatever other boring topics “adults” discuss, while the 12 cousins made plans to walk down to the lake to feed the ducks bread. Each week, it seemed like the conversation got louder and louder and faster and faster. Whenever the topic of politics came up, there was surely some spirited conversation.
My dad’s family was largely conservative while my mom’s family leaned more liberal in their politics. I never really understood what all of the banter was about. I just knew that one family was Republican and one was Democrat. There was always a lot of talk about taxes, but in general, when it came to issues of human rights, both sides were on the same page. Democrat or Republican, we always believed in being a good person. I think hearing each side of the political debate for the greater part of my formative years, is why I always tend to fall in the middle–ON EVERYTHING.
Never for a moment did I consider my family’s conservatism linked with racism. In fact, I think my implicit need for social justice was fostered from that family. We were always an all-inclusive family. I have members of my family who are black, gay, and everything in between. We just believe that people are people. One of the core values in my family is the value and joy in connecting with people and fostering bonds. This is why I fell in love with teaching– talking to and relating to kids.
My best days are the ones when kids come to my room to talk or need help to figure something out. The Met, where I teach, affords me a truly unique opportunity to learn about my kids on another level. Our relationships differ than teacher-student, and it is not one that can easily be explained, but it the best career move I’ve made in my life.
Teaching in Providence for me was never about “saving underprivileged kids”, rather for me it was about experiencing diversity and richness that I’ve otherwise never had the opportunity to experience. Though West Warwick is considered an urban ring district, I don’t remember being surrounded by a lot of diversity. Perhaps the lack of diversity I experienced was simply my ignorance around diversity or it was in my mother’s preconceived notion about what a “good family” with “good kids” should look like.
College was when I really explored the idea of multiculturalism in a required course called “Multicultural Education”. Since that semester, I’ve always known I’ve wanted to teach in an urban setting and nowhere else. In my practice, I can recall two particular pieces of work, that have helped me to realize both my responsibility and potential as an educator in an urban setting: Verna Myers Ted Talk: How to Overcome Our Biases and Christopher Emdin’s Ted Talk: Reality Pedagogy.
Both pieces of work have helped shaped my practice as an equitable educator. Myer’s talks fervently about confronting our own biases. Her work helps me self actualize that yes, I have an implicit bias, and yes, it is my job to not only confront my own biases but “to walk boldly toward them.” Emdin’s work was particularly poignant in that he talks about really well-intentioned white folks who go to teach in urban settings with the idea of “saving” black and brown students. As aforementioned, though I have never felt that way about my students, I needed to hear those words to realize that this is the narrative our black and brown kids have heard from the beginning. We will “save” you and you are not capable of “saving” yourself. Such powerful words that each day make me stop and think about the messaging I want my kids to receive from me. Not only are they capable, but they are unique individuals that bring a variety of assets into the classroom that I could only hope to bring.
As I think about how my life is unfolded I think about who I am as a cultural being and how my language development has been directly correlated to my personal identity. Many people think language and culture are separate, but I see them as two delicately interwoven pieces of fabric in the making of a person. My language and use of language partly defines who I am, yet who I am, my experiences, and my culture help defines my language.
On the outside I am white, and I am so keenly aware of the privileges that being white has afforded me. On the inside, I am a reflective spirit, always concerned with being kind, equitable, and just. I work hard on everything that I do, and will always strive to do what is right. Because of the duality that I feel, the weight of my whiteness, and the reflective being inside, I know urban education is where I need to be.
All 4'7" of me 