Introduction
My, oh my, how dull the world would be if there were only one narrative. One story to listen to, one perspective from which to view. How bleak, how dreary and humdrum our day to day would be if we had nothing but our own story to hear, and to tell. Yet many Americans, children and adults alike, often have a difficult time challenging themselves to walk a while in someone else’s shoes; to perceive situations and people and problems from the viewpoint of another. And who could blame us? We are busy. We have jobs and responsibilities: mouths to feed, bills to pay. And even when those mundane things are taken care of, we have friends to console, shape to get into, TV to watch, and unwinding to do. There are any number of myriad things that keep our perspectives and our minds on one course – our own – preventing us, at times unavoidably, from appreciating the lives and views and experiences of others.
And so sometimes, just like reading, if we want to make it happen we have to do it on purpose. As deliberately as we strive to turn off our screens, put down our iPad or phone, and open a good book to access that part of our minds, we must put down our mundane personal perspective. We must close up and shelve our single, own narrative, so we can open up our souls to the stories of others. This, like reading, is rejuvenating. It reminds us that we are and are not alone, that we are and are not unique, that we are and are not all one human family. Recognizing the differences in everyone, worldwide, helps us both appreciate those differences, and perhaps even more so, appreciate that, as the immortal words of Maya Angelou remind us: “We are more alike my friends than we are unalike.”1
That’s the goal, isn’t it, of educating a young person: to make them feel like they belong, while also fostering their growth as a unique person, capable of contributing to the community in which they belong? Can we foster this without regularly outlining experiences of people with whom they can relate? It seems to make sense; it certainly does to me. Yet as hard as we try we still have to depend on Black History Month, or Women’s History Month, or Hispanic Heritage Month, and that’s because most people other than white men are still marginalized in general American instruction. Can I generalize that much? Yes. I am a white man and I was educated in this country and I have never once felt marginalized or unincluded. I have been teaching in a diverse community for seven years and have spoken to hundreds of students who profess that they have. They are resigned to Shakespeare at this point. Why not change it up a bit?
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