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Meet five educators chosen for the first-ever Teaching Tolerance awards.

n. pl. Children’s dictionaries have the power to shape how kids see the world. Be sure yours promotes tolerance.

Schools in Maryland and Connecticut are rethinking suspension policies and practices.

Spanish classes are the perfect place to help students develop cultural competence.

Last summer, my students were fascinated with union suits, the one-piece undergarment. We were getting ready to visit the Minnesota History Center, where a display featured a Minnesota-based company that got its start as a producer of union suits. We previewed the museum’s collection online. The students were quite taken with the red wool outfit with the “trapdoor” over the rear end.

I am a good driver. You’d never know it, given the theatrics of the backseat drivers in my vehicle, whose sudden gasps and quick grasps for the dashboard denote a lack of confidence in my skills. This drama is alternately amusing, annoying and unnecessary. I'm proud to say that, for the most part, my instinctive go-to practice of "when in doubt, step on the gas" has never let me down.

I’m a Teaching Tolerance Fellow, and I’m working to develop classroom resources that balance the requirements of the Common Core State Standards with culturally responsive instruction. I’m hoping to draw upon our readers’ expertise to meet this challenge. What readings or texts do you recommend that answer the call of the Common Core and culturally responsive pedagogy?

Bryan had anger issues in sixth grade. One day another boy in my class called him “gay” and he flung his desk across the room and chased the boy all the way to the main office where he ended up in a heap of trouble...again. Despite all of the impulsive and often violent behavior, deep down underneath the tough-guy façade, Bryan had many likable qualities. But he still ended up being moved to our school’s alternative program for students with behavioral issues.

It’s not unusual to encounter misconceptions about Africa. People erroneously refer to “the country of Africa” or say that someone “speaks African.” Most of my third-grade students were African-American, and they not only knew very little about Africa; they held negative assumptions about anyone who is African. Worse, my students used “black African” as a slur. No one knew how that got started. In fact, part of the reason I usually say “black” instead of “African-American” is that I got used to my students saying “black.” The term “African” was not anything they wanted associated with themselves, even with “American” tacked on to the end.

Among my third-graders, conflicts often arose over the issue of skin color. “Your mama left you in the oven too long. You look just like a burnt cookie!” “Oh yeah, well you look like a white boy. I bet you ain’t even black.” As a young white teacher coming into a school that is about half African-American and half Latino, I knew there would be racial conflicts, but I didn’t know how they would manifest themselves. I assumed that both groups’ first concern would be the oppression and racism from white people. I was not expecting the intense criticism that I found within the African-American community of its own members.