A principals guide to disrupting inequity Greg Farrell
Growing up in inner city Toronto,
the twelfth of thirteen children,
to a disabled war veteran and a mother
who never finished nursing school,
and living in social housing,
I look back on the school and the
community that I lived in for 19 years,
and I know that I was really blessed.
Others would see this community
as dangerous, too racialized,
violent and filled with drugs and
gangs – and it was –
but to me it was home,
and it taught me so much about life,
diversity, and inclusion.
While some would see this as a
disadvantage,
I realized this as a richness.
Having worked in education for close
to thirty years,
my stories will provide you with insight
into the ways
that you can challenge, disrupt, and
disturb
those who do not feel and see inclusion
as adding value or richness,
or even a part of ethical leadership.
When we place racialized people at
the center of our work,
we can alter our programs, our
policies, and practices
so that all can flourish.
Recently at some equity training in our
city,
there was a group of disgruntled
principals posing the question,
“Why are we having this training on
equity and diversity again?”
Challenging them, I said, “Look at this
group of principals.
You can clearly see that we’re navigating
in a culture of whiteness.”
It was a sea of white from the front
to the back of the room.
It was obvious that our hiring practices
needed to change.
We must do better to ensure those who
we mentor, encourage, hire, and promote
are diverse in race, thought,
religious beliefs, ability and class.
The Ontario Human Rights Commission
explains that race is a social construct.
It advantages some, and it disadvantages
others.
In Ontario, we use the term “racialized
person”
instead of the term “person of color.”
I have unearned privilege because I was
born white,
but because of my lived experience,
I bring a lens that does not view
things from a middle class,
heternormative stance.
And I have a passion to serve those who
have been underserved and marginalized.
In this current political climate,
when women, trans people, indigenous and
racialized rights are being jeopardized,
and childhood poverty is on the rise,
it’s even more important that we speak
our truth and lead our authentic lives,
to work, to develop diversity as a
richness, a strength.
In my current role as a principal
and a leader in education,
and as a married gay male
for almost 25 years,
that’s 50 in the straight world,
with two amazing, biracial children,
I work to put marginalized people at the
center of our programs,
our planning, and our policies.
Years ago, as a new VP, I wrote on the
school calendar,
“International Day of Anti-homophobia.”
I was called into the principal’s office
to clarify,
what exactly was I trying to do?
Well, I was trying to be inclusive, and I
was challening the dominant,
heteronormative structure.
And when I was scolded for being
too political,
I was asked, “How is this
related to our work?”
I was chastised and reprimanded.
When I discussed this with my
Superintendent of Education,
the first thing she did was apologize.
The second thing she did was connect me
with a leader of equity on our board,
and we developed a friendship,
a mentorship, and a connection
that has stayed with me to this very day.
The first time she visited me at my
school, as a principal,
we went on a learning walk-thru.
There was a little black girl
in grade three.
She was struggling and she was
being underserved.
She was one of a handful of black students
at this school.
When I entered the classroom and
Introduced my friend and my mentor,
this child asked, “Is she really
your friend?”
She looked so shocked.
When I confirmed this, and added that
she’s also someone who teaches me so much,
she smile. She wanted to hug my friend–
she was also black.
It was a revelation to this child
that her white principal could have a
black friend and a mentor.
When we recognize race, we can alter
life trajectories.
And if we’re not actively working
to combat racism,
then we are being complicit in
the perpetuation of racism.
My question to you is this:
how might you enter into alliance with
those who experience racism,
and be complicit in the ending
of racist practices?
Let’s improve outcomes
for racialized people.
Some time ago, when I was in a meeting
with a teacher,
he made negative comments about a
racialized mother.
In front of me, was a racialized teacher
being racist toward a racialized mother.
He said, “She’s just sitting at home all
day, lying on the couch, eating candy.”
This was so untrue, when in fact
I knew that she was working two
jobs to support her family.
Luckily I had some recent training.
I had my sentence ready.
I said, you need to know and I thought you
should know
that your comment was really
offensive and racist.
Years later, when our paths crossed again,
he brought up our conversation.
He thanked me for challenging him.
Do you have your sentence ready to
challenge racism when you hear it?
Let’s acknowledge the complexity of
race, culture, and language.
When we realized that the lived experience
and life trajectory of racialized people
are impacted by race,
then we may be able to join into
community to try to improve outcomes.
Not as a savior, or someone who’s going to
fix it all,
but somebody who works in community
for positive outcomes.
What does your leadership team look like?
Who do you mentor?
Is your leadership team fixed or
fluid?
Do you lead in an autocratic manner,
or do you allow for the voice of others?
Who gets hired to your organizations?
Recently while interviewing a racialized
candidate
I noticed my colleague scoring him
much lower than I thought he deserved.
I challengeed the scores that
she gave him.
I asked her to check her white privilege.
She got so offended with me, she
said,
“Listen. My parents are immigrants,
and I’m a member of a persecuted
religious group.
How dare I ask her to check
her privilege?”
I acknowledged this, but then I repeated,
“Why are your scores so much
lower than mine?”
This candidate hit every required
look for, and then some.
We sat in awkward silence for some time.
I followed this up with a message to my
superintendent,
to ensure that this teacher was offered
the position that they deserve.
Data can be a powerful tool to highlight
the inequities in schools.
Let’s use traditional and non-traditional
forms of data,
in both traditional and
non-traditional ways.
Let’s look for the narratives,
the histories, and physical evidence
that are both qualitative
and quantitative.
Does how you analyze multiple data
sets disrupt or perpetuate
current inequities in your school?
Are you seeing the faces behind the data
and altering pre-determined destinies?
What are your next steps?
In one of the schools that I worked at,
which happened to be the most racially
diverse community in Canada,
we looked at the data,
and it told us that racialized dads were
not feeling welcome in the school.
They were not true partners
in their child’s learning.
So we established a dads and
significant others club
and we brought dads into the school.
Together we ran events like
Family Math Night, Games Night,
literacy events, to show that these
fathers valued school
and they cared deeply about what
their children were learning.
I will never know the intricacies of being
black, First Nations, or trans,
but I can listen to learn, care deeply,
recognize lived experience,
and then think about my actions and
next steps.
I can learn to deepen my understanding
as someone who has potentially
caused harm in the past
and is now attempting to right past
wrongs.
Let’s be cautious of whose voice is both
first and last,
and work in collaboration and consultation
with affinity groups.
Let’s recognize the multiple identities.
Race can intersect with gender, ability,
sexual orientation, class,
and a myriad of other identities that
are both fixed and fluid.
These identities are at the
essence of who we are
and how we navigate our journey.
If you’re a part of a dominant, privileged
identity,
how might you use this privilege in
service of those who are not?
Let’s question the white, colonial,
Judeo-Christian, middle class,
heteronormative structures
that are shared and repeatedly positioned
as the only and often right way.
A few years ago, while presenting at a
local university,
a young lady wheeled over to me and said,
“I’ve always wanted to be a teacher.
Do you think I could be a teacher?”
She had minimal use of her hands, and she
used a motorized chair to move around.
I said I thought she’d be a great teacher
if that was her passion.
She assured me it was, and soon she became
a volunteer at our school.
She was dedicated, caring, eager to
learn, she loved the kids,
and the kids loved her.
That year, she was accepted into
Teachers College.
I recently watched her teach an awesome
math lesson.
I will act as a reference for her to gain
full-time employment.
Let’s ask ourselves this question:
In all of our actions, are we creating
equitable and inclusive outcomes?
I’m so excited that we are embarking upon
an indigenous and racialized
leadership mentoring program,
as a starting point to combat racism.
And we will include these leaders in real
leadership opportunities.
Let’s work to disrupt disparities
for racialized people
that will in turn bring a wealth of
richness into your school
and your school communities.
I am so grateful for the community that I
grew up in
because it’s helped shape me into the
person that I am today:
a person who challenges the inequities
that exist for racialized and
underserved people;
a person who strives to always
have their sentence ready.
Do you have your sentence ready?