Zetta Elliott's Blog, page 61

where is the love?

It’s the end of the semester and that means students are starting to panic. I have the usual knot of dread in my belly as I wait for a student to dissolve in tears or explode in a fit of rage over something for which s/he refuses to take responsibility. Yesterday an enraged student took a shotgun to a school in Colorado and shot a female student when the teacher he planned to kill wisely left the building. I’ve visited three middle schools so far this month and I have four more visits next week. At first I worried I wouldn’t have enough energy to interact with kids after grading mountains of essays and journals and reports and portfolios. But yesterday I realized that public schools are sites of love for me. I often say that teaching is like parenting in my mind: it’s a one-way street. Teaching can be rewarding, but many students treat their professors like their own personal valet. You’re there to serve and in the mind of many students and college administrators, the customer is always right. Tressie McMillan Cottom writes,

But hurt feelings can be bad for business. And a lot of powerful people think colleges should act more like businesses. When they do, students act more like customers…If I want to piss off the majority of higher education’s customers, then defying the natural superiority of men by being a female authority figure…would seem like a good way to go…

Teaching what people would rather not learn is especially tough if you are a woman or a minority professor. Research shows that our customers rate Asian-American, Hispanic, black, and women professors lower than white male professors across all subjects. Most disturbingly, student evaluations of women of color are harshest when customers are told that the results will be “communicated to a third party for the purposes of evaluation.” Our customers are not only disinclined to like tough subjects; they’re also inclined to take their discomfort out on minority professors, who are the least likely to have the protection of tenure or support from university administration.

Now, I teach Ethnic Studies to students who are Black and Latino. When I do have white students in my classroom, they’re usually there because they have a progressive attitude toward race. I don’t generally get any push back from my white students. But I do consistently have black male students who don’t feel they have to respect black women. And when I go into a middle school here in Brooklyn, I do wonder how long it will take for some of the sweet boys I meet to turn. They often approach me after my presentation has ended and they’re full of praise (“You’re a really good reader!”) and quiet revelations (“I’m working on a novel, too”). Yesterday I spent close to two hours at a school in Bushwick and from the moment I arrived, I was warmly welcomed and embraced. I don’t think of myself as an egomaniac, and not all schools put up signs and displays with my photo and book covers. But there is LOVE in those libraries and classrooms and auditoriums. It’s palpable. And maybe that’s why I’d rather be an aunty than a mom—I get all the adoration with none of the drudgery. I don’t feel taken for granted as an author. And even when kids are buying my books, they act like *I* am giving them a gift. And as I prepare to leave, the host teacher or librarian will almost always say, “The kids are going to remember this forever.” With my college students, I’m often left wondering if I’m even making a dent—if they even care about the work we do together in class. It’s not a nice feeling. But the semester is almost over and I at least have the assurance of knowing I did all I could to help them learn. I’m just going to keep soaking up the love I get from these middle schools. And once all the grading is done and my students’ demands/complaints have stopped, I will go back to doing what it is I do best: write.

Sankofa!

I had another amazing school visit on Monday and as I munched on gingerbread men in the librarian’s office afterward, I realized how out of sorts I’ve been as of late. I don’t think it’s still grief—it definitely could be stress—but Christmas is my favorite time of year and I’m usually feeling very festive in December. I spent today grading and the dogs in neighboring apartments were barking and then my other neighbor decided to fry fish…my mood became *really* foul and so I ventured out into the snow. There isn’t much left, of course, but I decided to head to the grocery store so I could buy ingredients for Christmas cookies. I only bake once a year and that always gets me in the Xmas spirit. When I got back home there were two packages crammed into my little mailbox and one turned out to be my issue of Sankofa! I’m very grateful to the editor, Meena Khorana, for including my essay in this issue. We met last fall at the second A Is for Anansi conference at NYU and she immediately expressed interest in my work. Two other editors had rejected this essay on Black Canadian children’s literature, so I’m glad it finally found the right home. Tomorrow my conversation with Ibi Zoboi will be published and I think my Jeunesse essay should be out soon…I wish I felt something other than relief! ‘Tis the season for joy—and gratitude. Let’s see if I can whip some up in the kitchen…

precious moments

I don’t do many school visits in the fall but this month I have quite a few lined up and today was my first. I returned from Toronto early Sunday morning and worried I might be too emotionally wound up to face this full week. But my aunt’s funeral on Saturday truly was a celebration of her life—complete with tambourines for the mourners!—and my short trip was full of love and laughter (and food). I came back to Brooklyn feeling tired but truly blessed to be part of such a loving family.

Today I spent the entire day at Brooklyn Prospect Charter School and was so impressed with the school, the staff, and the students. It’s definitely one of the MOST diverse schools I’ve ever visited and the building itself seemed to have a different kind of energy. Before each presentation the Humanities teacher, Ms. Beerman, asked for a student volunteer to lead the class in a simple breathing exercise—they opened their hands, took a deep breath, exhaled, and prepared to be strong communicators! Despite getting off to a rocky start (I said the US had 52 states) I soon felt at home with the 7th-grade students and truly enjoyed hearing about their historical fiction projects. I presented before 4 classes and led more intimate writing workshops with 3 small groups. Here are the day’s highlights:

During my second writing workshop, the black girl next to me saw my copy of Bird and said, “Oh! I read that book over and over at my aunt’s house. She writes for kids, too.” Me: “Really? What’s her name?” Her: “ Jacqueline Woodson .”
During the Q&A at the end of one of my presentations, a young man kept asking about Ship of Souls . Him: “But is D ever in mortal danger?” Me: “Are you sure you want me to answer that?” Teacher: “You can get the book at the library.” Him: “OUR library?” The period ended and within TWO MINUTES that boy was back in the classroom with the library’s copy of Ship of Souls. Him: “The librarian wants to know if you’ll sign this book before I check it out.”
I had a chance to play the trailer for The Deep and had to smile as the kids immediately recognized Eminem’s “Lose Yourself” and started bobbing their heads and tapping their pencils to the beat.
On my way out I asked the friendly security guard how to find the F train and she walked me out to the street to give me directions. A tall, tenth-grade student overheard us and said, “I can take her to the train.” And so we walked there together and she told me about the books she liked and how her teacher took them to see The Hunger Games after they read the novel in class. Before parting ways I handed her one of my postcards and told her to check out some of my books. “You mean you wrote these?” she asked, clearly surprised. Fingers crossed she also makes a beeline for the library…

And now—back to grading…

Buy Books on Cyber Monday!

I’m pleased to announce the publication of my third novel

for young adults. THE DEEP is a companion book to

SHIP OF SOULS and reunites readers with D, Nyla, and Keem.

It’s the summer of 2011 and the new school year looks

promising: Nyla’s falling in love with strong, sensitive Keem

and she’s one of the few Black students to be accepted into

elite Stuyvesant High School in lower Manhattan. But Nyla

can’t ignore the strange visions she’s been having, and when

a man named Osiris promises to reunite Nyla with the mother

who abandoned her at the age of four, Nyla follows him into the

deep—a dangerous realm miles beneath Brooklyn where

members of a secret league fight to keep evil from reaching

the earth’s surface.

You can watch a trailer for THE DEEP here.

Read my essay on Black “geeks & freaks” in YA literature at

Happy Birthday to THE DEEP!

Today’s the day! You can get your copy of THE DEEP at Rosetta Press (Create Space) or Amazon. The e-book will be available in a couple of weeks. THE DEEP is the second book in what I like to call my “freaks & geeks” trilogy. I’ve already started writing the third book, THE RETURN, and will try to publish that next summer. In the meantime, please do share THE DEEP with the young readers in your life. As an educator I write with reluctant readers in mind; like SHIP OF SOULS, THE DEEP is short and fast-paced, covering a span of three or four days. Most of my community college students don’t read, which breaks my heart. We’ve got to get kids hooked on reading at an early age! And that isn’t likely to happen if we keep feeding them liver and Brussels sprouts—-books that are good for them but not much fun. It’s Thanksgiving today and I’m thankful that I was raised by an avid reader; no one had to convince me that reading was fun. I’m looking forward to visiting schools in December and sharing THE DEEP with teens. There’s nothing more gratifying than wrapping up a reading and hearing a student say, “I’ve GOT to read that book!”

lessons learned

This afternoon I went for a walk to think about my aunt. She just turned 60 but was hospitalized over the weekend. As I raced against the setting sun—it’s COLD in NYC—all I could think about was the time she taught me how to roll socks. My aunt has Down’s Syndrome; I don’t remember when I realized she was different than my other relatives, but I do recall my mother forbidding us from ever using the “r-word.” I still cringe when I hear others using it and always check my students when it flies out of their mouths.

I posted an essay on The Huffington Post earlier today about the need for more “freaks and geeks” in YA lit. And as I walked home I thought about the ways my mother’s extended family taught me to respect and value difference. The setting sun turned the sky violet and I thought about my aunt’s infectious laughter and the way my uncles would sometimes tease her just to put a smile on her face. She loved to play the tambourine and her favorite dessert was black forest cake and her hero was Anne of Green Gables…I’m already using the past tense. It looks like I’ll be spending Thanksgiving in Toronto.

 

plunge into…THE DEEP!

The trailer is done! As a Scorpio, I often find it hard to collaborate on projects but it was an absolute pleasure to work with Nadirah Iman. I really respect artists who honor deadlines and otherwise act like professionals…and quality shows, wouldn’t you say? Take a look:

at last…

meet Osiris

The cover art for The Deep is almost done—I can’t wait to share it! In the meantime, meet Osiris—the mysterious guide who leads Nyla underground and into the deep…

(Illustration by Ian Moore)

D’s back!

D was the narrator of Ship of Souls; The Deep is told from Nyla’s point of view but D still has a chance to share his unique perspective. He’s abandoned all hope of winning Nyla away from Keem, but they still have his back…

(Illustration by Ian Moore)