Arlène’s Story

“Never stop writing.” These words spoke life into me. The year that I had 6 math teachers and a failing report card was the same year that I had my first poem published. When Ms. Andrews -my English language arts teacher - said those words to me, she saw something in me that I couldn’t yet see in myself - as educators often do. And it was Ms. Keanna, my P.E. teacher, who came to see my parents at home to help them understand why I was struggling in math. She explained, “Arlène is not failing school, school is failing Arlène,” because she didn’t think it was fair that my own school was holding me back from reaching my potential. The gift of belief from these transformative educators, the divine gift of having someone outside of myself see me as capable, brilliant, and gifted brought me back to the same school, and to the same classroom. Where there had once been a failing student, there was an 8th grade language arts teacher: me. 

At first, this was a serendipitous experience - I had come, full circle, back to where I started and I was ready to do for my students what Ms. Andrews and Ms. Keanna had done for me. But when I got to see behind the curtain, I was devastated. All of my students were brilliant, but the school had a tracking system. The students on the advanced track rose to the occasion and were well-prepared to enter high school the following year. The children on the remedial track, who were the same age and grade, were reading on a 1st grade level. I was prohibited from using the same teaching materials with all of my students and on more than one occasion I was cautioned that they “just weren’t ready” for deep or critical thinking. And while this was crushing to watch in the classroom, it was worse to see how this impacted them in their regular lives. The students on the less advanced track struggled behaviorally: they could be aggressive, promiscuous, and resistant. I didn’t - and still don’t believe - that their behaviors got in the way of their brilliance. I think that the way these students were taught was what nurtured these behaviors. 

I tried my best to help my students, all of my students, to uncover their gifts. Together, we published Middle School Voices from Our Generation, a collection of 28 students’ work from our social justice and writing classroom. While this had a profound impact on the students and I felt like I had helped them to better understand their limitless possibilities, I couldn’t stop wishing that I had met them earlier. Thirteen years old is young, but by 8th grade there was so much negativity that I had to help students unlearn and reconstruct. I wanted to start earlier: I wanted to wrap my arms around a new kid and create a loving school experience from the very beginning. 

So, I moved to New Orleans to help found a school and we had seats to fill. As an energetic and ambitious young teacher, I had the audacity to find the students myself by standing at doorsteps like Ms. Keanna stood on mine. In the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, I went door to door asking families, “Do you have a 5 year old?” By the close of enrollment our class was filled with a diverse collection of kids: children with special learning needs, children who came to school knowing how to read, children whose elders didn’t have formal education. And we became a family. When their year of Kindergarten came to a close, we all graduated to First Grade - including me. I moved from grade to grade with my students until they graduated from our school. When I spoke to each of these families and asked them to trust me and our new school with their five year olds, I made promises and I had to honor their trust. 

In our classroom, we didn’t track our students or make determinations of who was worthy, who would turn out to be somebody, who wasn’t going to amount to anything. I knew and they knew that all of them could change the world. We studied young leaders and trailblazers like Ruby Bridges by watching videos and reading books. We had the pleasure of meeting Ms. Bridges when she came to visit our local library. The students greeted her and told her what they had learned. 

“Hey Ruby,” they said, “you look so big now, we only met you a couple days ago!” 

“Ms. Ruby,” they said, “you never gave up!”

We learned perseverance, courage, and love from Ms. Ruby, and I learned innumerable lessons from my students in our time together.
My middle school students taught me that my work had to start earlier. My former kindergarteners taught me that my work doesn’t ever have to stop. We can care for students - their hearts, minds, and spirits - across grades. All of my work with children has led me to Reveye’s (pronounced rēv-ai-yay) mission. I thank my students for my awakening and the role they played in my journey. Like Ms. Andrews and Ms. Keanna did for me, I saw and spoke life into my students. I would tell them, “Remember whose you are, and rise into who you are.” When I took my own advice and walked into my purpose, the vision of Reveye was born and continues to grow.