Antiracism and Universal Design for Learning: Building Expressways to Success

By Andratesha Fritzgerald and Samaria Rice

Andratesha Fritzgerald presents Universal Design for Learning (UDL) in a new light: As an effective framework to teach Black and Brown students. Drawing vivid portraits of her classroom instruction in urban over the past two decades, Fritzgerald shows teachers how to open new roads of communication, engagement, and skill-building for their stude

• Language: English
• Publisher: CAST, Inc.
• Release date: Aug 26, 2020
• ISBN: 9781930583719

Andratesha Fritzgerald

Andratesha Fritzgerald is an educational practitioner, national speaker, author and inclusive practices implementation consultant. Her life's work is to awaken, celebrate and activate brilliance by breaking barriers and stereotypes of teachers, leaders and students to actualize achievement wherever it seems impossible. A self proclaimed book nerd, Jeopardy enthusiast and imagination expert, she loves writing and dreaming out loud with her husband, two children and committed educators who believe in academic success for all. She is the founder of Building Blocks of Brilliance Educational Consulting Firm. She holds the distinguished honor of Martha Holden Jennings Foundation Scholar, and has twice been featured in Education Week, a national publication. Andratesha is committed to excellence in education.

Book preview

Prologue: Invitation to Good Trouble

The word antiracist carries with it a punch that demands attention. It is easy to see the need for antiracism when we look at the horrors of slavery or look back at the Civil Rights movement of the Sixties. It is more difficult to see the strongholds of racism that are embedded as tradition or practices that have been the bedrock of schooling for as long as any of us can remember. Because these systems are so strongly pinned to our experiences and many people’s definition of what’s right, there is much antiracism work needed.

When we look at data that tells us that Black students are suspended at a rate that is three times higher than their white counterparts—we know that antiracism work is needed.

When we see that there is evidence that shows Black students are either overidentified for special education or underserved because of the color of their skin—we know that antiracism work is needed.

When Black and Brown students are systematically denied access to gifted and advanced placement courses—we have all the evidence we need that antiracism work is needed.

Racist systems still exist and need to be acknowledged and dismantled so that all learners will experience the freedom of learning without barriers. It’s time for a revival in our schools. It’s time for a celebration at the place where effort meets innovation. It’s time to make some of that good trouble that the late Civil Rights hero, John Lewis, talked about. We need a revival that makes sense for our schools, our families, and our Black and Brown children. This book will help teachers and leaders proactively name and eliminate barriers—academic, behavioral, social, and emotional barriers—and to also address and eliminate institutional racism in our systems and schools.

Thank you for being willing to set out on this journey.

CHAPTER 1

Antiracism and UDL Begin with Honor

Thirty students in a classroom. Eight could breeze through the content with or without the instructor. Another four need a bit of a push but eventually grasp the content. A few succeed with the help of special education supports. The remaining learners just don’t get it, according to the teacher.

Cherish—female, thriving—is part of the first group. She loves school. She comes into class daily ready to learn, eager to read, raising her hand, sharing her thoughts. She feels like a winner. Her grades reflect that message back to her. But she is pregnant and afraid that she soon won’t be able to keep the secret she has hidden for five whole months.

Across the room sits Deacon—male, surviving but barely. He’s part of the group that supposedly doesn’t get it. He tries to hide. His goal is to disappear by pretending to complete an assignment he can’t read. He avoids contact with the other students unless, for some reason, he has to deflect, defend, distract. He feels like a failure. His grades reflect that message in that class. The teacher has no clue that Deacon leaves school and works until midnight since his father has become disabled.

Every week, the same students are fabulous, the same students fail, the same students are lost, the same students get labeled. The teacher, with best intentions, makes a general announcement. Hey, if you aren’t happy with your grade I will be here after school. Some of you are failing, and I haven’t seen you show up after school yet. I’m here if you need me.

Yet he has no idea of the struggles his students face every day and how heavily the system is stacked against these brilliant minds. He does not know for sure who is homeless, who is hungry, who is afraid of being jumped, who has moved 17 times in two years, who is being molested, who is addicted, who is being prostituted, who is listening, or who needs someone to listen. The teacher is satisfied with business as usual because he offered help. He has no idea that staying afterschool might interfere with caring for a sibling or working to pay bills. He doesn’t realize that walking home alone after dark is a life or death dilemma. With no transportation options, few support networks, and real-life challenges, the students who need his help must refuse it to truly help and protect themselves.

They prioritize and so does the teacher. What is most important? Who is most important? Sometimes we tout mission statements, vision statements, and goals that include buzzwords that everyone says and everyone can recite but only a few actually live the words out. You can tell what is most important by the student achievement. You can tell who is most important by who is achieving the most. And what about the ones who are not achieving? Both students get up when the bell rings and race to Mrs. Jackson’s class on the other side of the building.

In 2015, the US Department of Education’s Civil Rights Data reported that 12 percent of Black students were held back in ninth grade, while just 4 percent of white students were, according to US News & World Report (Cook, 2015). Across all grades, Black students were nearly three times more likely to be held back as their white peers. Small wonder, then, that Black students were also more likely to drop out of high school before getting a diploma.

I can’t help but think of seven-year-old Linda Carol Brown walking block after block to the bus stop to ride to her all-Black school two miles from home because she was not allowed to attend a white school just four blocks away. We are sure there was someone who stood and proclaimed, in the tone of Plessy v. Ferguson, that separate schools were pretty good considering—or at least good enough for those kids. Just good enough is not good enough until it is good for all students, including our brilliant Black and Brown students.

Now let’s envision Cherish and Deacon in another class—one that is both universally designed and antiracist.

Deacon loves the music-video parody the teacher debuts to her class before posting to her YouTube channel. He sits at the architectural drawing table and pulls out his materials. Mrs. Jackson asks him when their next check-in is scheduled. Next Tuesday, he says with a laugh. But I might need more time because I saw some stuff I want to add to my crib.

Mrs. Jackson is aware of Deacon’s situation so she encouraged him to attend the class, but he has an alternative course of study through a credit flexibility syllabus they created together. She knows that he uses geometry every day because he learned how to rehab homes from his Dad before the illness. Even though he can eyeball an angle and cut a corresponding one freehand, he has been having a hard time keeping pace with content that is far beneath his ability.

This gonna be nice, he brags a bit.

Well, nice, says Mrs. Jackson. Better consult those guidelines for the final project. Make sure each milestone is reached. At the check-in come prepared with questions and samples. We might have to see about building this house for me. They laugh.

Each student is using this structured study day to either cultivate curiosity, build on questions, inquire about concepts they are unsure of, or review their peers, projects in progress.

Cherish is on the computer with her headphones and smacks her lips in annoyance at the laughter between Mrs. Jackson and Deacon. She is watching the prerecorded tutorial and preparing to tackle a problem before creating one for a friend she is swapping with.

I need to make sure I get this before … you know, she says as she points to the computer screen.

Mrs. Jackson says, Cherish, turn the volume up on those headphones and get down to business. They share a secret knowing smile, and Mrs. Jackson places a note in her hand that she was writing while they were speaking to one another. The note simply says, There is someone who will be looking up to you. Don’t let her down (or him if the baby is a boy.) Cherish folds up the note, smiles, and adjusts the volume.

She exchanges three problems with her classmate instead of one because they want to make sure they understand the concept well enough to teach it. The standard does not change because of situations or hardships. The standard is communicated, and the road to reach the standard is paved with flexibility.

Regardless of the color of skin, disability, socioeconomic status, or home situation, antiracist teaching demands excellence in a way that communicates honor to the learner. What is the difference between offering help and designing a course that is helpful to every student? What makes the difference is honor. The notion of honor is important to the successful implementation of UDL. Honor is most often communicated in the actions that answer the question, Who is most important?

Lisa Delpit (1988), a pioneering writer in the field of education and antiracism, writes that an important first step toward antiracist teaching is recognizing the codes of power that operate in the classroom. She proposes five aspects of power that both teachers and students should be aware of:

Issues of power are enacted in the classroom.

There are codes or rules for participating in power; that is, there is a culture of power.

The rules of the culture of power are a reflection of the rules of the culture of those who have power.

If you are not already a participant in the culture of power, being told explicitly the rules of that culture makes acquiring power easier.

Those with power are frequently least aware of—or least willing to acknowledge—its existence. Those with less power are often most aware of its existence.

On the last point, Delpit says: Acknowledging personal power and admitting participation in a culture of power is distinctly uncomfortable (p. 26). This culture of power aims to protect the status quo. The culture of power is assimilationist—not antiracist. For that reason, Delpit encourages teachers and students to openly discuss these codes of power and how they operate: The teacher cannot be the only expert in the classroom. To deny students their own expert knowledge is to disempower them (p. 32).

Antiracist learning environments are not built around a savior complex of rescuing Black and Brown children from the ills of the world. When a learning environment is truly antiracist then all learners will be empowered beyond bias to make decisions about their learning and leading because the environment is welcoming and safe. Creating culturally responsive, culturally sustaining, flexible and empowering classrooms distributes the power that is traditionally held by the teacher and releases those who have had power in them all along to shine. Tradition has upheld racist values that hold the genius of Black and Brown children hostage to white rhetoric. Honor places learners in the driver’s seat.

Honor says, I see you. I am learning from you. I acknowledge you. You are welcome here. You belong. Your success is my mission. The codes of power that dishonor students speak to the need to create a new code—a more inclusive and empowering code. Where power was once the stronghold controlled solely by the teachers, I am proposing a new code. A code of honor. There are five elements to establishing and acting upon the code of honor that are juxtaposed to Delpit’s assertions:

Recognize the power structure that exists—both past and present.

Acknowledge the purposeful intent and actions of abolishing the limitations of the power structure at hand.

Reflect the code of honor by empowering each member of the learning community daily in the structures, supports and choices available.

Make an effort to invite members of the learning community into positions of authority, power, and decision making—even if that means taking yourself out of power to do so.

Create opportunities for members of the learning community to make powerful decisions that govern their best possible outcomes.

When these five elements of honor are enacted in our learning environments, we will see a shift in the status quo. When schools and learning communities become places where all students can exercise their power and eliminate the learned powerlessness, the code of honor will take over the code of power. When success is not just a gatekeeper’s exam but rather a personalized road to the path that is chosen by the student—this is honor. When school success is demystified for all students of all races and all abilities and all backgrounds—especially for our Black and Brown students who are the furthest from educational justice—then the codes of power will be broken and the code of honor will elevate each student to the status of learner and leader.

Table 1.1: A Crosswalk of Delpit’s Codes of Power and Fritzgerald’s Codes of Honor

Ahram et al. (2011) put it this way: The capacity for developing students’ familiarity with the codes of power has to be taught explicitly and thoughtfully incorporated into the fabric of all core instructional offerings so that it will create an internal value to school success for students that does not contradict other critical dimensions of themselves.

Think back to the classroom scenarios at the beginning of the chapter and reflect on the following questions.

Can you point out the power?

Can you point out the honor?

Who is most important?

Is it the teacher, who services the students to the level that he is satisfied or the one who is not satisfied until all students learn?

Is it the students who are passing the course with