Remembering Miss McGruder

Abstract

Miss McGruder cared enough to add to her curriculum songs that were part of my life, songs I might not otherwise have heard in our school, Ms. Wilder recalls. inclusiveness of her repertoire grew out of her awareness of the legacy of black struggle, spirituality, pride, and liberatory education. UNTIL RECENTLY, I spent little time reflecting on my own school years. However, when I interviewed a group of African American students for a study about their experiences in school, their stories awakened memories of my own schooling and relationships with teachers. What I came to realize while analyzing the research data is that African American students today continue to seek - as did my classmates and I in an earlier time - teachers who can relate to them, to their identities, and to aspects of their communities. Teachers and teacher candidates generally say that they entered the profession because they wanted to make a difference in students' lives. In most cases, teachers can and do make a difference. However, this doesn't happen for all students in America's schools. It is much easier for teachers to have an impact on students' lives when students are able to see a direct connection between their teachers' expectations of them and their academic achievement. Unfortunately, the connection is not always easy to make. In recent years, I have talked with practicing teachers and their students and found that these groups often feel they have little in common, culturally or socially. Their goals and expectations concerning schooling outcomes may be markedly different. I know from personal experience that having something in common culturally and socially with one's teachers and schooling can make all the difference in sparking a student's interest in school and fostering persistent effort. It was my elementary school teacher, Miss McGruder, who made that difference for me. My memories of Miss McGruder, an African American teacher, are still vivid after all these years. When she arrived at my neighborhood school, Hamlin Park Elementary School (also known as P.S. 74) in Buffalo, New York, the school had very few African American teachers, even though the student body was composed primarily of African American students. majority of my classmates and I lived in the surrounding school community, and many of our parents were friends or knew one another as neighbors. I do not remember the name of Miss McGruder's predecessor. I do, however, remember that she was a stern and aloof elderly European American. She was very tall, and she moved only her right hand as we sang a cappella, which was most of the time. She had all but convinced my classmates and me that class, at least the kind you have in elementary school, was boring. I do not think she noticed me or any of the other students in my class. I do not remember a melody or any of the songs we sang. She did not acknowledge the power of inclusion or variety in her music. And, as a consequence, I felt no connection to her, to the class, or to the she embraced. We had little in common, and the politeness of the Eurocentric classroom was alienating to me. When Miss McGruder arrived, things changed. I remember sitting in her class feeling happy. She played the piano with enthusiasm and without looking at the keys. She sang the songs as she played, and she sang them with a brilliant smile on her face - all the while keeping her bright eyes on us. It was near the end of class one day when Miss McGruder did something that totally engaged us. She played a rock-and- roll song! It was a Chubby Checkers song - The Twist. Oh, how we enjoyed singing along with our teacher. We remained sitting at our desks as we sang, but our little heads were bobbing to the of the piano. It was as though she related to us - to me - and brought a little soul music to our very conservative school climate. …