When a white police officer in McKinney, Texas, tackled and pointed his gun at unarmed black teens at a pool party a few weeks ago, the story went viral and many reacted, including fourth-grade teacher Karen Fitzgibbons. She has since been fired for her Facebook posting. Of the incident, Fitzgibbons wrote: “I’m almost to the point of wanting them all segregated on one side of town so they can hurt each other and leave the innocent people alone. Maybe the 50s and 60s were really on to something.”
Wow! There it is. She said it. Bigotry spewed out of the heart of a fourth-grade teacher who, in a letter of apology, describes herself as an educator who “teach[es] [her] students about treating all people fairly and with dignity.” She continues, “I regret that my words are now calling that into question. I can, and will, use this situation as a real world example of how emotions and words can cause hurt to others.”
Fitzgibbons’ words and emotions are problematic—but not the only problem. They are the byproduct of corrupt seeds of hatred that have been sown, watered and cultivated inside of her. I don’t know how often her ideas spilled out in the classroom, but it’s horrifying to imagine the number of students who may have been hurt by them or adopted them as their own.
Having grown up in Texas, I understand the constant subtle (and not so subtle) gardening that happens there. For me the seeds of white privilege were watered by Fox News reports and my Rush Limbaugh-loving grandpa, who used terms like “spics” and “mex-kins.” Luckily, my parents and a few other key people in my life felt differently and weeded my garden on a regular basis—sowing and cultivating love and tolerance. Many students have not been so fortunate.
Later in life, as I traveled, read and immersed myself in cultures outside my own, I began to see how much fear had been planted in me without my knowledge. Without those who took time to teach me another way, I could be in the same place as Fitzgibbons, and that scares me.
I am extremely thankful for the ones who taught me acceptance. Parents who took one minute to correct a biased remark, a teacher who taught lessons on civil equality and mentors who showed me how to stand up for the oppressed changed the way I believed, and for that I am grateful. As an educator and a parent, I feel a great responsibility to keep my heart clean of all prejudice. In my classroom and in life, I have opportunities every day to help my students, friends and family members learn the beauty and strength of diversity and the damage of hate.
So with emotions and words aside, what real-world lessons do I take from Fitzgibbons’ situation?
- Racism exists. It is real, and it is ugly.
- What is planted within will one day come out, as we recently saw with the tragedy in Charleston, South Carolina.
- With anti-bias education and plenty of courage and diligence, there is hope that mindsets of prejudice can change—even for Fitzgibbons and her students.
Botello is a teaching and learning specialist with Teaching Tolerance.