IDENTITY: POWER, PRIVILEGE + INTERSECTIONALITY

 How does whiteness and white supremacy culture impact the youth and educational spaces that you inhabit? What does it look like? Feel like in your body and movements? How does it sound? Taste? Slip by or call out?

    Power and privilege are concepts I’ve been aware of for most of my life. Acknowledging my own power, privilege, and, at times, lack thereof, has been crucial to navigating various spaces, particularly in my role working in an elementary school in Woonsocket. Reflecting on how whiteness and white supremacy manifest in this setting, I find it challenging to pinpoint overt examples at the elementary level. However, it's clear that whiteness still lingers, operating more discreetly and often unaddressed, shaped by unconscious biases and the norms that define "appropriate" behavior and success in schools.     Woonsocket is a diverse city, home to a wide range of ethnicities—Nigerian, Laotian, Colombian, Puerto Rican, and more. The hardships people face here are deeply rooted in larger systems of white supremacy, even though they may impact all residents similarly, regardless of their race. These systems have shaped an environment where poverty and struggle transcend racial lines, creating a sense of shared experience among students. At first glance, the elementary school environment may not appear to be dominated by whiteness or overt displays of white supremacy culture. Students often form bonds based on their shared experiences growing up in a city like Woonsocket, where opportunities feel limited, and the weight of systemic issues is palpable.     Yet, whiteness is present, even when it’s not obvious. In schools, it may not take the form of explicit racial dominance, but it shows up in more subtle ways—through the way teachers and staff from outside the community speak to or about the students. There’s a clear difference when educators come from culturally and economically diverse areas, like Woonsocket, Pawtucket, Providence, or Cumberland, and when they come from predominantly white areas. Their interactions often carry an implicit assumption of authority or a belief in "what's best" for students that is grounded in a white-centered perspective. This can sound like well-meaning advice, but it’s often disconnected from the realities these students face. Families in Woonsocket tend to be more receptive to faculty who resonate with their lived experiences, who understand what it means to grow up and raise children in this specific environment. When that connection is missing, whiteness becomes a barrier to genuine understanding and trust.     Even when the dynamics of whiteness aren’t explicitly called out, they slip by in how certain behaviors or cultural practices are seen as "normal" or "correct," while others are pathologized. Teachers who unconsciously hold white, middle-class values as the standard may approach discipline, communication, and expectations in ways that reflect these norms. For example, students may be labeled as "disruptive" or "unruly" when they express themselves in ways that don’t align with a white-centric view of respectability. These judgments are subtle, but they reinforce a hierarchy where whiteness remains the unspoken standard.

    In my body, I can feel the tension between wanting to honor the experiences of my students and families while navigating a system shaped by white supremacy, even if it isn’t as overtly oppressive in this space. The expectations for how students should act, learn, and succeed are often steeped in a culture that doesn’t fully consider the diverse realities of their lives. At first, how my team and I interact with families during our program may feel off-putting to some, as we set the tone with a "come as you are" approach. But over time, families realize they don’t have to put on a front or fit into a certain mold when dealing with us. It’s a relief for them, but it also highlights an unspoken pressure to conform—one that exists in the background even as we try to create spaces of true inclusion. In these ways, whiteness continues to influence the educational space I inhabit—not through obvious, overt oppression, but through more subtle, insidious means that shape how students and their families are seen, judged, and supported. The challenge is in recognizing and addressing these dynamics when they are not readily visible, but deeply felt in the ways students and families interact with the school system.