This post was written by guest author Jacob Wunsh.聽
I was Google searching鈥攕omething to the effect of 鈥淧D aside from Teach Like a Champion鈥濃攚hen I came across the 起点传媒Annual Convention for the first time. I remember feeling equal parts enthralled and overwhelmed. Hundreds of sessions . . . yet I knew no one who had attended. Would my charter school pay for it? If they wouldn鈥檛, would I?
As it turns out, they would, and more than once. The first time, on that November flight to Houston, I聽remember taking a deep breath only to find myself stifling a sob on the airplane. That fall had聽been uniquely brutal when it came to work-life balance. I had changed grade levels and adopted聽two new courses, which meant long Sundays planning lessons and a laundry list of 鈥淣ext聽years. . . 鈥 and 鈥淣ext times . . . 鈥 at the end of most workdays.
In short, I was exhausted. I had a friend waiting for me in Houston, so I had that to look forward to; however, the more time I spent on that plane, the more worried I became. I鈥檓 tired because I鈥檓 working too much, I thought to myself. And now, I鈥檝e chosen to spend the first half of my Thanksgiving break doing stuff tangential to work. What was I thinking?
For any readers out there with similar concerns, allow me to assure you now: the NCTE聽Convention left my cup far fuller than it found it.
The opening general session that year featured Chimamanda Ngozi Achiche, whose book聽Americanah I had just finished reading. Her star power did not disappoint, yet the session I聽remember most vividly from my first Convention was that of the next day鈥檚 headliner: Dr.聽Christopher Emdin.
On that stage, Emdin mixed academic research with poetry in a way I had never seen before聽and may never see again. Toward the end of the lecture, he charged White educators in聽particular with learning more about the cultures of the BIPOC students we serve. What鈥檚 more,聽he delivered this message, in part, via rap. During the talkback, I was busy writing down ideas to聽take back to my classroom when another audience member wrested my attention. I saw a man,聽perhaps in his mid-twenties, rapping back at Chris Emdin. An auditorium full of educators,聽hundreds if not thousands of strangers, and this dude was letting it rip! I wish I had written down聽the content of what he sang, but what I noted clearly was the speaker鈥檚 reaction. A teary-eyed聽Emdin made a fist with his right hand, crossed his heart, and pointed at the man with his left聽hand. 鈥淭hank you, fam,鈥 he muttered.
If ever there was a place where educators across the country can support each other through聽hard times, I decided, it is this place. Before I boarded my flight home to Denver, I had already聽ordered a copy of Emdin鈥檚 book.
By now, I was hooked. Some of the sessions that stand out to me from my second Convention聽in Baltimore were Tara Westover鈥檚 book interview on Educated and a keynote by Tommy聽Orange. What I鈥檇 like to highlight, though, is a smaller session I had the great fortune to attend, led by the founders of a hashtag called #DisruptTexts. In a small group, my table partners and I were discussing the importance of mirrors and windows to a culturally relevant English curriculum.
In an attempt to demonstrate vulnerability, I shared with these folks a personal and professional blindspot of mine: on the one hand, I wanted to teach more Native literature in my classroom; on the other hand, with such limited knowledge of this space myself, I had no idea where to start. Immediately, these colleagues showered me with title after title, author after author. Feeling defensive, I cried, 鈥淚 barely have time to read for pleasure! How am I supposed to fill a hole that a lifetime of education has dug?鈥 Across from me, a woman patiently smiled. 鈥淲e make time for the things that matter,鈥 she replied.
This year, I will teach There There by Tommy Orange in my eleventh-grade English class. I know I may make mistakes as we navigate from tribe to tribe throughout the novel (Cherokee,聽Cheyenne, Arapaho, and Navajo), but I commit to repairing harm wherever I cause it, however I聽can. Nevertheless, my primary takeaway from #DisruptTexts was this: I will no longer avoid聽certain topics and texts in my classroom for fear of not being 鈥渆xpert enough鈥 to teach them聽鈥減roperly.鈥 If my students would benefit from exposure to Native authors, then I ought to teach聽them. And there is no shame in asking for help along the way.
Even if these were the only lessons the 起点传媒Convention had afforded me鈥攁nd they are far聽from that鈥擨 would continue to recommend the experience for years to come.
Jake Wunsh teaches English and German at a Title I charter high school in Southwest聽Denver, where he has worked the past seven years. He is currently pursuing his MA in聽English at the Middlebury Bread Loaf School of English. Before he moved to Denver, he聽was a Fulbright English teaching assistant in Baden-W眉rrtemberg, Germany. In his free聽time, he likes to hike, read, and watch anime. His most recent publication, a reflection on聽the climate change politics of Hayao Miyazaki鈥檚 Princess Mononoke, can be found on
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