"A Call to Action: Reflecting on Education, Equity, and Responsibility"

Teachers, imagine how devastating it would be for our kids to miss more than seven months of in-person school. I often wonder how such an extended absence would impact their social, emotional, and educational well-being. Virtual learning is a blessing—it gives us the chance to keep going—but we all know it’s no substitute for the human connection and personalized care exceptional teachers provide in the classroom.
Then I think about how this prolonged period of social distancing due to COVID, compounded by the devastation of disasters like Hurricane Laura, might affect them—and us. What if we can’t return to in-person learning for the entire school year? Would we promote students to the next grade, hoping to review material at the start of the year, praying they’ll catch up?
Sure, a few might adapt as though they never missed a beat. But let’s be honest—those students make up maybe 1% of the classroom. What about the others? What if they move to another state where they’re expected to be on grade level?
And then there’s the unfair narrative that might follow them. Louisianians have long been stereotyped as less intelligent, and people might wrongly blame parents for not doing enough. But what about the larger picture? What about the systemic lack of support for disaster-stricken areas? What about the government’s role in failing these communities?

A Paralleling HistoryWhen I reflect on these challenges, I can’t help but draw parallels to our history.
For 400 years, African Americans were denied education, enslaved, and subjected to unimaginable conditions—forced to work in extreme heat and cold, much like the discomfort we’re complaining about now. They were chained, beaten, and hanged for reasons rooted in systemic dehumanization. Even after emancipation, they were expected to adapt to a society that had conditioned them into servitude while being vilified and stereotyped as inferior.
Sure, there were the 1% or 2% who managed to succeed as though they had never missed a beat. But for the vast majority, society didn’t offer a leg up—no reparations, no systemic support. Instead, they were blamed for not “pulling themselves up by their bootstraps” while the boots themselves were taken away.
So, let’s ask ourselves: Should the world that failed them blame them for falling behind, or should it have provided reparations—investments in education, the dismantling of systemic racism, and actions to uplift the oppressed?

Living in America as a MinorityFor many minorities, living in America feels like being in a family that turns a blind eye to abuse because acknowledging it would disrupt the family’s image. They suspect something is wrong but tell themselves comforting lies to maintain their version of reality. When the truth eventually comes to light, the victim is often blamed—scrutinized for their role in the abuse. If the family covers it up, the victim is left to live with shame, morphing into a version of themselves that aligns with the family’s fairy tale ending, erasing the abusive chapter altogether.

A Challenge to Reflect and ActThank you to every person brave enough to look at our painful history and take on the responsibility of righting these wrongs. Addressing our collective past requires us to confront the roots of issues like slavery, systemic racism, religious and political bigotry, and more. At their core lie superiority, greed, entitlement, and the belief in hierarchies that devalue human lives.
It’s not enough to turn a blind eye or tell ourselves comforting lies. The time to reflect, address, and act is now.
Stay well,
Frankie Alisha