Of racism in the classroom and Trump supporters
Since President Trump was elected to power in November 2016 Trump’s Minions (TMs) have reared their ugly heads in my classrooms. I hate being the target for their unfounded ignorance on race, but being brown and teaching English to white students can lead to some hostility at times. In those rare moments, I remind myself that teaching undergraduates English was an opportunity that never presented itself in Sri Lanka. I often joke about it with my Lankan friends. I was never “good enough” for the Sri Lankan free education system that demanded ridiculous expectations of qualified and eager Lankan academics. The mental reminder of the oppressive politics of the Lankan education system has made me thankful for the platform for teaching that was gladly granted to me by a Southern American university in the US. Armed with this slice of wisdom I battle the occasional Trump Minions (TMs) in my class. Trump Minions, as I fondly refer to them, are a posse of white Trump supporters who realized they can air their ignorant views openly after Trump became “their” president. Trump legitimized racism amongst this group of minions who appeared out of the woodwork when they heard he was going to “Make America Great Again.” Obviously, they happily volunteer to do Trump’s bidding.
People in Washington carry not my president and fight racism placards during an anti-Trump protest. Reuters
One particular incident that proved the TMs’ persistence on white racial superiority is etched in this brown teacher’s memory. The TM in my class that semester was the Student Leader of the Republican Student Union on campus. He was a privileged white boy from Texas who came from a family that were considered oil moguls in the area. In other words, he was rich, entitled and absolutely horrified that he had to learn English from some “brown Indian woman.” It didn’t take me long to figure out that he was all out to get me that semester. He would make it his soul mission to irritate me with inappropriate questions in class and to grumble about the work load I assigned. His first attempt at ruffling my feathers was received with shocking disapproval among my other students in class. He asked me openly what authority I had to teach him English. I explained that I was in this position because the “Great American education system had an impressive set of checks and balances which ensured that qualified personnel take over the teaching of Great Americans.” Some of the students popped by my mini office on campus after class to apologize for TM’s “awfully racist and unacceptable behavior.” They reassured me that they loved my teaching and were ashamed that he is a political representative for a student body on campus.
This is why I love teaching, because I always meet people who restore my faith in humanity. They remind me that there are some who actually apologize for being racist.
A quality that I truly admire and respect.
So when teaching, the voice in my head says, “it’s all about perspective”. This prevents me from getting too angry and suffering from a heart aneurism while in class.
But this TM seriously wished upon a heart aneurism to come my way. My response to his question was too chilled out. He was infuriated that his questions hadn’t thrown me off balance. So he probably spent his free time away from his Frat house devising a cruel plan to get back at me.
He would do it in writing. Hit you where it hurts. Especially given that I’m a teacher and my soul objective is to help students to learn how to string sentences together. His final paper was going to be his racist soapbox.
The final essay prompt required students to write a four page paper on a topic of their choice. He saw his opportunity. This persistent TM chose to write on the 9/11 attacks. And in his final essay, which I only grade after the final day of the semester at home, his thesis was that 9/11 was carried out by extremist Muslims who came to the US on a student visa. His research essay defeated the purpose of research because there was none in it. It was an opinion piece based on what Americans refer to these days as “fake news.” Of course he hated that I taught him English and in a casual conversation after class he boldly asked me what visa I came on to the US. I stated the obvious, I was here on a student visa. I had no idea that this piece of information would be the central theme, thesis or premise of his final paper. It was his final racist hurrah in my class. He passed with a B.
Don’t look so shocked! His language skills were subpar and he barely made the mark, but, I had every intention of passing him because I didn’t want any of my fellow teachers to have to deal with him in their composition class next semester. I must also say this, he got an A for effort because his revenge plan proves there’s a head above his shoulders. It’s a racist battle I fought tooth and nail that semester. One that I’ll always remember.
The columnist is a Sri Lankan who resides in what is best known as the deep South of America. Living in a quaint college town teaching English and World Literature to university undergraduates at an American University. Currently pursuing the final year of her PhD in English, she hopes to continue her journey of teaching, writing and exploring cultures.