The Emperor "is Naked"

By S. J. Morris

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jun 30, 2018
• ISBN: 9781543443516

Book preview

The Emperor

Is Naked

A Collection of Poems and Essays

About Racism by a Teacher Activist

S. J. Morris

Copyright © 2018 by S. J. Morris.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 06/30/2018

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CONTENTS

Dedication

The Scientific Teaching of Reading and Teachers of Kindergarten Adapt to Full Days Evaluation of Assigned Articles

Did Guided Reading Misguide Them?

Black Students:

From Emancipation to the 21st Century

A Reflection: The Golden Rule Begins

With You Living the Rule and Avoiding Tarnishing the Rule

Calmness Or Vigilance

Empowering Education: One Path Of Social Action

Affinity Among People Of Color: A Thread Of Hope For The Cultural Others

Epilogue

DEDICATION

To my loving, mother, Olivia L. Hollis, a master teacher, my mentor, and my children, Brandi and Brandon, I love you! And, to all my students, past and present, I dedicate these simple words of wisdom, an excerpt from one of my favorite poets, Paul Laurence Dunbar:

"... Little folks be like the seedling.

Always do the best you can.

Every child must share life’s labor,

Just as well as every man.

And, the sun and showers will help you,

Through the lonesome struggling hours,

Till you raise to light and beauty,

Virtue’s fair, unfading flowers."

Stephanie J. Morris

pyramids.jpg

A Poet’s Wonderful Life

By S. J. Morris

To write and perform

Is more than just an engagement of tasks.

It is a twisted configuration of life’s circumstance.

Pieces rolled and patted into a peachy, creative sweet, scented, pie.

Loving it and begging for more with a sigh.

January 18, 2001: 7am

PENANDPAPER.jpg

THE DAUGTHER OF A TEACHER:

AN AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL

REFLECTIVE JOURNEY OF SJAY,

THE POET AND WRITER.

There have been times in my life that I denied teaching. This denial weaved in and out of my adult life in various phases, all in an attempt to shut out my rebellion against becoming a teacher, like my mother. One of my excuses for being a teacher was that it paid the bills. Teaching came in handy when my marriage failed, and I became a divorced, single parent raising two children. Although during my childhood, teaching, educational philosophy, practice and materials were always surrounding and influencing me, I had other dreams. I was going to become an actress and dancer. So, my teacher mother and my tailor father supported my childhood talents and provided the dance, music, modeling and acting lessons I wanted. As a college student I majored in Drama at NYU, but my mother said, take some education courses too, and I did. After college graduation, I became a professional actress, only performing some off-Broadway and summer theatre. I strayed from my performing goal because teaching was steady work, and I wanted to move out of my mother’s house. I never liked the waitressing and starving actress way to success. So, when I started teaching, I did not understand that being an actress did not have to negate my teacher role. Often in my work with children and teens, I used both my performance skills and teaching skills. I worked for years at camps, and after school programs and taught acting, dance and modeling to young people. Time and wisdom has taught me now that teaching was only a component of my destiny, and that the type of teaching I was destined to do had always been with me as an inherent spirit. Being the daughter of a teacher, my mother, Olivia, ignited the foundation for teaching that had been lying dormant. I came to know that I am connected to teaching from a much more ancient beginning. Probably as far back as ancient Khemet and the Mystery schools.

I never realized until recently that what I was rejecting about teaching was not becoming an imitation of my mother, but, instead, I was rejecting the Western mindset and presentation of education. I was rejecting the 19th century industrial-age driven structure, which was designed to control and brainwash European immigrants coming to American shores from 1800 –1920.

In the early 1800’s, it was my people’s free labor that fueled the desire for European immigrants to come to the rich and plenty land of America for opportunity. Blood of an innocent people sowed the opportunity they sought. America was promoting the American Dream to some while carrying out the American nightmare against others. Black people were only an appendage to an educational system that was not intended for them. Black people’s education was only a side thought, as an answer to the slave problem. Our real needs were not addressed in 1863 after emancipation, and they are still not being addressed today. This barbaric American history is what I was rejecting.

In my struggle to understand my inner turmoil about teaching, I learned that I am not only a daughter of Olivia and Moses Hollis, but I am a daughter of an African teaching legacy. Now proud of being able to say I am a second-generation teacher, I no longer reject that privilege because I know that I was not rejecting my mother’s profession, but, instead, the system of education under a Western distorted world that separates teaching from my ancient cultural heritage. Teaching in its essence is rooted in living. The act of teaching derives from a natural interaction between man, woman and child. And, if we understand, know and respect that the first man, woman and child were Black, then we will come to realize that the Western educational system has completely wandered away from the human interaction of teaching or living in a natural state. Teaching is communicating the needs, wants, and culture, traditional spiritual messages, folklore, ancestral customs, wisdom, prophetic law, and science of nature among human beings, families, tribes, clans and rulers to a people. In America this does not happen for all people and all of its children.

I understand and know now, that the concept I propose, this essence of teaching, was apart of me when I entered this world. Lisa Delpit, in her book, Other People’s Children, helped to analyze something that I felt subconsciously when she explains the differences in valuing children between Athabaskan people and Western culture. She states:

We non-Natives tend to think of children as unformed future adults. We hear about the birth of a child and ask questions like, What did she have? How much did it weigh? and Does it have any hair?’ The Athatbaskan Indians hear of a birth and ask, Who came?" From the beginning, there is a respect for the newborn as a full person.

At three, I was teaching other children. I loved to dance and danced everywhere, especially at family events. My parents, family, extended family,