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When Laurie Halse Anderson tells you the world needs your voice, you write.

11/30/2018

Last week in Teaching Land, I went to Houston to the #NCTE2018 Conference. I have many stories to share about all of the wonderful sessions, people I met, and conversations I had, but I need to focus on one particular experience.
Here is my story on how Laurie Halse Anderson helped me find my voice…again.

I learned something about myself this weekend: I really like the idea of roundtable discussions. Everyone at the table has an opportunity to be heard. The presenter and listeners depend on one another for the roundtable to be successful.
I chose to attend a session called, “Teaching for Equity and Justice with Young Adult Literature.” We had 20 something tables to choose from and only 2-3 rounds in the entire session. I overheard two teachers saying that Laurie would be talking at the “Speak” tables. The first table was titled “Date Rape in Speak.” Heavy topic, yes. But, even though I’ve only been an educator for 5 years, I’ve seen a great deal with how teachers, administrators, and students handle this topic. I just, I don’t know, I needed to be around others who would willingly have these conversations with me. Honestly, I needed to know I wasn’t the only one who felt a great burden when asked to teach this topic. So I went to the first round table in search of camaraderie.

Microphone Click First session begins.

“Of course you’ll feel uncomfortable talking about this,” I said a little too harshly. “But it is your duty especially because our presenter just said that 1 in 3 women will experience sexual assault. That’s like, 3 people at our table.”
“I know. I know,” the woman replied exasperated. “I just can’t imagine having that conversation with my son who’s in 10th-”
“-But things like this,” I gesture to Speak, “will never get better if we don’t have these hard conversations.” I looked around the table at the faces of the other educators who were looking anywhere but at me.
Why isn’t anyone saying anything with me? I thought to myself. I’m not exactly sure what was said next because I focused all my energy on not screaming. What were they not understanding? These conversations must be had no matter how uncomfortable one may feel. Eventually, the presenter suggested that if we feel uncomfortable talking about the date rape, that we could do what she does: Focus on the facts behind Speak.
The numbers. The statistics.
Some of our students are statistics.
My students are statistics.
Hell, I’m one of those statistics.

Scene: The first time I taught Speak.

The school I was at decided that each ELA class 7-11 will read Speak that fall and the administrators would provide supplemental resources for us to teach during our advisory classes.
Each grade had grade specific resources. In 10th grade I had to teach the girls “How to Not Get Raped.”

Microphone Click Reality sets in.

The group discussion leader comes over the loud speaker, alerting the room to the ending of the first roundtable discussion. I quickly shove my belongings in my bag and search for the next table that involves Speak.
I found a vacant seat next to the discussion leader. I exchange “Hellos” to a few familiar faces and tell myself to listen this time. Don’t speak. Just listen. But the thing about roundtable discussion is that they only work if you let yourself be vulnerable. Everyone around the table must work together to create a dialogue and, in return, a brief partnership is created. This partnership will only work if you allow yourself to be uncomfortable with being vulnerable.
“Look at the poem on page 200,” the presenter says as he passes photo copied pages to his left and right. “How can you use…” I tune him out as I begin reading the poem titled #MeToo from Laurie’s new book, Shout.
The presenter’s voice cuts the silence I have created in my head. “So,” he begins, "Could you use this in your classroom? How could use this?” He looks around the table at all the women avoiding eye contact. I giggle at all the hair lines I see.
“Don’t worry,” he says while locking eyes with me, “I’m very good at wait time.”
Shit. Eye contact.
“Well, I’m kind of curious as to what happened on the other 199 pages.” The hair lines vanish. Eyes appear. “Ya know, she could be referring to the #MeToo movement on page 200. Now, after that entire time there’s a movement to help even though people kept on reporting sexual assault. It’s like with Melinda. She was showing signs of something being wrong but no one was listening.. or hearing… I dunno..” I let my words trail off as tears welled up.
Fuck. You’re around a bunch of adult humans, Rachel. Get it together.
Avoid eye contact.
Forehead down.
My fingers begin to pinch the fleshy part of my left hand. Hoping the scratching will distract my thoughts.
Why the fuck are you crying now?
See, you should have just shut up.
Are they giggling at my hair line?

Scene: I confronted an administrator I felt comfortable with at the time.

She said that she didn’t put that in there and said it must have been the other administrator (emphasizing her carefully chosen words). She went on to say that I don’t need to teach that given lesson. But, I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to talk to the administrator that thought that that was an OK lesson. She apologized, told me to “take care of my face,” and said to send him an email. Another administrator, my principal at the time, overheard our conversation. He apologized, asked me to repeat the problem, listened to why I was so upset, and came with me to my classroom to have a hard conversation.

Microphone Click The group discussion leader alerts us to the remaining time

He gives us an option (such a teacher move): We can either stay where we are or move on to another table. I debate about leaving, after all, I did just spent about 10 minutes piercing the skin at my hand in front of a bunch of professionals. Real casual panic attack right there if I do say so myself! But, it was in the my moment of self loathing that I locked eyes with Laurie as she was approaching the table I was at. It could have been my imagination, but she seemed to have held my gaze a little too long. She looked at me like she knew. She knew what I’ve been trying to say all this time. She looked at me and I like to think she knew I needed to talk to her.
We broke eye contact as she sat down at my table.
So I stayed.

Applause Laurie finished discussing her reasons for writing Shout with the table

After the discussion, one of the teachers at the group asked Laurie for a picture. When Laurie agreed, I exhaled a little too deep. I must have been holding my breath. I wanted the same thing but I afraid she wouldn’t have time for any pictures or for any conversations.
Turning to me, Laurie said, “I knew you needed to talk to me! All you need to do is speak up!”

Scene: My principal began the conversation by sharing the topic I was asked to teach.

He asked questions like, “Why would teachers be asked to teach this?” and “Why would this be important for Speak?” and “Does anyone know anyone who has been affected by this?”
I sat there and listened. I was just so fucking angry. Angry at the administrator for dismissing the bigger problem. Angry that I had to step in front of a room full 10th graders and explain to them issues I wish people explained to me. The conversation developed into my principal sharing experiences a family member went through. A few of my students’ eyes looked at me while he was speaking. I knew I needed to saying something.

Reality Click

“How long has it been?” Laurie asked me, embracing me. I suddenly realized that she did know. I began to cry. She held me and she knew.
“Well it was while I was in college at Potsdam.” I replied.
“Potsdam? Fuck.”
We sat in the conference room talking to each other about our rapes, Potsdam, the fucked up-ness of it all, my former place of employment, and how we are angry… “all the fucking time.” There was something refreshing about hearing her say she’s angry too. The commonality of “anger” made me begin to question the actual cause of my anger. I’m not angry about being raped anymore. I’m not angry about the hurtful things my “friends” did or didn’t do. I think I’m angry that sexual assault is still happening. I’m angry that it’s happening to people I know. People I teach.
Laurie asked me if she could give me her copy of Shout. She then flipped through the book and told me which poem I specifically needed to read (I would totally talk about the poem but the book isn’t out… so… I’m not sure if I can?). Laurie then signed the book.
Laurie, thank you for helping me…again. This *gestures at blog post* is my first attempt at “speaking” again. Thank you for letting me know it’s OK to be “fucking angry” all the time, as long as we do something about. Thank you for giving me the courage to speak, and I will soon, hopefully, begin to shout.

Now, educators, you won’t know all the answers but I believe you must have a bit of vulnerability when talking about sexual assault. It is your job to get “comfortable with the uncomfortable.” Here are a few tasks:

Recognize that your students may be in some crappy situations and may not understand how to ask for help.
Understand that parents aren’t always good parents no matter who they are. Understand that teachers aren’t always good teachers no matter who they are… so document, document, document.
Listen to your students.

I had a few goals after the conversation with my principal that day. Besides meeting the required ELA Standards, I wanted my students to understand:

Their body is their body
Their voice is their voice
Books offer other worlds when your world isn’t OK
What healthy support systems are
Their abilities and their past will never define their future.

For more information on Speak or Shout, please visit this site.

For more information on sexual assault please visit RAINN

http://madwomanintheforest.com

https://www.rainn.org

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When Laurie Halse Anderson tells you the world needs your voice, you write.

Microphone Click First session begins.

Scene: The first time I taught Speak.

Microphone Click Reality sets in.

Scene: I confronted an administrator I felt comfortable with at the time.

Microphone Click The group discussion leader alerts us to the remaining time

Applause Laurie finished discussing her reasons for writing Shout with the table

Scene: My principal began the conversation by sharing the topic I was asked to teach.

Reality Click

I met a superhero today

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My Teaching Land

Stories From Others

When Laurie Halse Anderson tells you the world needs your voice, you write.

*Microphone Click* First session begins.​ ​​

Scene: The first time I taught Speak.​ ​

*Microphone Click* Reality sets in.​

Scene: I confronted an administrator I felt comfortable with at the time.​

*Microphone Click* The group discussion leader alerts us to the remaining time

*Applause* Laurie finished discussing her reasons for writing Shout with the table​

Scene: My principal began the conversation by sharing the topic I was asked to teach.

*Reality Click*

I met a superhero today

Categories

Archives

​Home

​About

​My Teaching Land

Stories From Others

Microphone Click First session begins.

Scene: The first time I taught Speak.

Microphone Click Reality sets in.

Scene: I confronted an administrator I felt comfortable with at the time.

Microphone Click The group discussion leader alerts us to the remaining time

Applause Laurie finished discussing her reasons for writing Shout with the table

Reality Click

Home

About

My Teaching Land