Andrea Moore

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Diversity at its best
It is time for parents to teach young people early on that in diversity there is beauty and there
is strength Dr. Maya Angelou. Diversity ranges from culture and race. Not one person is the same.
Literacy is not only the ability to read and write, but how one uses those skills. I intend to analyze my
high school career and how my literacy in diversity grew.
Beginning high school presented many challenges. As a student I did not know what to expect.
On top of the normality of transition anxiety, I moved half way across the country. I remember thinking
how am I going to do this? The knots inside my stomach grew. I love reading and writing so I was
immediately excited to go to my English I class. There was a keen love for education that I possessed.
English was reading and writing; why wouldnt I love it? It took me two weeks to realize that I was
going to hate English class. The most defining moment for me occurred when we were reading a book
about dystopia. The class broke into three groups and we were given a short quiz. The quiz was fairly
easy but they werent comprehension questions. Later we were asked to share with our group and
compare our answers with the answers that we shouldve had. Not one student in the classroom got the
answers thats the teacher gave us. She then told us why we were completely wrong and she was right. I
was left thinking I was incapable of learning the way I was supposed to. Resentment boiled inside of me.
How was I supposed to think like others, as a human I formulate my own opinion. The other core
classes that I was taking I perceived as concrete. In science, math, and history there is little to no room
to explore. I reached a place where I was no longer learning. I was stagnant. My part in my education
was to memorize what society thinks I should know. I slowly began to lose my love for education. I was
lost inside the public school, societies child being taught to conform.
By the beginning of my sophomore year I was attending my fourth high school. Kestrel Heights,
my new school, required students to wear a uniform. The uniform consisted of khakis and a lifeless polo
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in red, blue, or white. The uniforms prevented prejudice but they also limited creativity. Now I believe
that the uniforms were to afford each student the same opportunities. I was denied access to express
myself. I was trapped inside my head. Should I fight myself to be acceptable I thought. Battling my
consciousness on what road I should take, I still had a passion for learning and education. I began
reading everything I could to increase my knowledge. School became something I just did. I had
completely given up all thought of school truly teaching me anything. I was attempting to take control of
my education. Sophomore year I was in English II and my teachers name was Mr. Parrott. Mr. Parrot
was very clean cut and well he looked like a parrot. You often here people talk about a teacher who
loves their job, Mr. Parrott loved his job. Mr. Parrott was a band wagon teacher. He very seldom made
his own lesson plans and agreed with the English department about everything. I became lost in the
meaning of learning. Students came to school to be brainwashed. In the beginning of English II, Mr.
Parrott told us that our focus would be on world literature. He also told us that we would be reading the
most important literature, the books that covered the best parts of writing. I never truly figured out
what made those seven books more important than the others. Towards the middle of the semester we
were reading Oedipus Rex by Sophocles. I actually enjoyed the tragedy but I wanted to understand its
relation to world literature and why it was one of the best. I asked Mr. Parrott why is Oedipus Rex one
of the best? He replied to me because my lesson plan says so. I didnt understand that answer. Why
were we not reading different selections? Why was our education and understanding of world literature
limited to a few choices? I began to despise the education system, until Dr. Joseph. I had a teacher that
reminded the importance of diversity. He was a five foot man with a balding head. Dr. Joseph taught my
physical science class. He was a very eclectic and a true free spirit. Every day in class we did something
different. He told us nothing he made us explore science. We were required to think on our own and
form and prove our own conclusions. He taught me that nothing was set in stone, everything was once
proven. Dr. Joseph told me two things that stuck with me forever. He told me to never let society sets
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my standards and that learning is not just acquiring knowledge but also retaining it. Dr. J is the main
reason I am writing about diversity in literacy and my growth in it. Indirectly he was teaching me how to
be my own person. He reignited my fire in fighting for true literature and defining it in my own words.
Junior year I transferred again. I am absolutely convinced that I met a teacher form hell. Ms.
Oliver taught my English III class. Mrs. Oliver was about 54 and simply looked evil. She always had a
grimace on her acne covered face. I never met a teacher that hated me more. Its as if she saw the
burning passion inside me and wanted to smoother it. I have come to believe that she envied my youth.
Mrs. Olivers class mostly encompassed vocabulary and SAT style writing. There was no doubt in Ms.
Olivers love for English literature and teaching. She possessed no people skills. My class was constantly
insulted by her. She never failed to tell us how dumb we were or how we were a group of ignorant black
teenagers. The entire class consisted of Ms. Olivers thoughts. If you were not Ms. Oliver you did not
talk. Well I talked but I was constantly in trouble. There was no opportunity to learn. We were required
to memorize and hang on to her every teaching. At the end of every novel our test was in the form of
an essay. It was an open note test and we were required to use the themes and motif given to us by Ms.
Oliver. The first essay we wrote was about The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald. The essay prompt
was to discuss and prove the theme the hollowness of the upper class. I followed all the directions and
acquired textual evidence. We received our graded essays back two days later. I was anticipating my A I
earned a grade of six out of twenty five. My grade threw me for a curveball. I was searching for the
answers to my problem. I was sure that I followed all the directions. I stayed after class to grasp an
understanding of my horrible grade. The first thing Ms. Oliver said to me was that I wasnt intelligent
enough to use all the key points she gave us the day before. You have a great essay concept and you
were almost smart enough to follow all my directions. I was told that my examples of the theme didnt
prove the theme as good as the ones that she provided. I was being told that because I didnt think like
someone, I was incorrect. Here was another teacher thinking for me. In order to pass the class I was
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forced to accept all Ms. Olivers ideas and write about them. I left the class with a very high A but very
little understanding. I had learned nothing but a few vocabulary words. I was shown directly that
conformity was the way to succeed in life.
Senior year I was in English IV. I had the acclaimed senioritis. I was ultimately over high school.
My English IV teacher was Mrs. Pompey. Mrs. Pompey was about five foot six and 180 pounds. In this
class we read British Literature. We read everything from Beowulf to Shakespearian sonnets. Everything
my teacher taught I simply accepted. Why should I fight if no one else would? Finally I stopped thinking
on my own. I didnt have many objections because I barely understood the British literature that we
read. What Mrs. Pompey said was the truth of life. My grades didnt reflect my disinterest but I was no
longer learning. I let public education lead the way. I conformed to society and went with the flow. I had
two mentors who constantly reminded me to stand out and make a difference. Mrs. Raines, my
counselor, always reminded me to keep God first. Ms. Fitzgerald showed me what it was to be a strong
and educated black woman. Mrs. Raines and Ms. Fitzgerald were both beautiful inside and out. These
two women were in the background reminding me how beautiful it is to be me.
I had a predisposition about college level English. I had that idea that I would be reading novels
and the correct information would be laid out for me to use. I was very wrong and I am glad of it.
Diversity in learning is how we have the textbooks and novels that we have today. Without diversity
learning would stop.