Pushout: The Criminalization of Black Girls in Schools

by Monique W. Morris

“I was the kid who was quiet, who was paying attention, but not necessarily asking questions. It was like, talk when you’re spoken to . . . or be seen and not heard,” Michelle chimed in. When girls spoke out of turn, they were often seen as disruptive. “I was the type that asked questions,” Leila said. “Because I understood that the class didn’t get it. You can feel it. So I’m one of those students that’s like, ‘So you subtract the four from both sides, right?’ And he’ll say yes, and you can hear people be like, ‘Oh.’” “That’s what’s up,” Nala said. That’s what’s up among the students, because they were searching for understanding but not always getting it from their teacher. To some, Leila’s willingness to speak up might be misinterpreted as being disruptive, though she saw herself as being helpful to the other students. The audacity to stand up and be heard in the face of fierce patriarchy and racial oppression is not always celebrated; instead, adults with authority have misinterpreted it as being angry and combative.