As the majority of the nation’s children return to in-person learning, many will be reunited with their classmates and friends. Others will meet new classmates and friends, and their teachers for the first time since the COVID-19 pandemic resulted in closing schools and the surge of virtual and remote online P-12 learning environments. The decision to pivot to remote learning brought its own set of challenges for countless children and families across diverse communities. Foremost, were the ongoing efforts to create, establish, and maintain a caring and equitable classroom environment with actively engaged children and their families.
While many children and their families are eager to return to school, for others, the transition back to in-person learning is anxiety-producing because, before virtual classrooms, their experiences inside schools were culturally assaultive — their identities (cultural and personal) were devalued, their dignity denied, and their bodies policed. This is especially the case for children of color, Black children in particular, who are not excluded and protected from the experiences of undeniable individual and systemic racism that sadly, pathetically, and regrettably is a lifelong phenomenon in the lives of Black families and, by extension, their children. There is far too much psychological, physiological, and emotional damage resulting from racism and discrimination in the lives of Black children of all ages.
Trauma in Schools
Evidence of this reality of trauma from educators is well-documented in countless video footage of Black families and their children in school settings. Disproportionate discipline that is tantamount to policing/over-policing the Black bodies of children barely out of diapers and training pants is all too prevalent in educational settings and even before Black children enter formal schooling — in child care centers and preschool.
The impetus for our writing this article is an incident in Roswell, Georgia, involving a Black father who decided to check in on his two-year-old via live stream video. In doing so, he observed that the White children were eating lunch while the Black children were not. The toddler’s family immediately returned to the child care center to share what they viewed with the director. Despite describing the incident as “disturbing and discriminatory,” the center’s director, who stated she was not in the classroom, was quick to offer a possible explanation of a potential “dietary thing” that did not digest well with the family. #RealityCheck. It is highly unlikely that all and only the Black children had the same dietary issues. Further, if dietary issues are known by these caregivers, why were no accommodations made to feed these Black children — young children (toddlers) who rely on caring and competent educational professionals to meet their basic needs? Children — students — cannot learn when they are hungry when their stomachs are grumbling. We know this from personal and professional experiences guided by our preparation with Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs. Where is the humanity? #BlackLivesMatter. We believe the regard for Black humanity is missing in action among these ‘caregivers’ who give the term and profession a bad name. This disturbing incident and gaslighting explanation do little to improve the longstanding rift and lack of trust that many Black families have with schools in their diligent efforts to protect their children.
Seeing these defenseless Black children being neglected triggered negative memories for me (Ford). I vividly and painfully recall my own son being starved in one childcare center almost 40 years ago. When I picked him up from school, he would rip through the fast-food I brought with me. Being so famished, he would eat not only the sandwich but also the wrappings and containers. It took me three days to realize that he was being starved by the childcare center providers. When I confronted them, the director responded, “Since he won’t eat his vegetables, he gets no food. This is our policy.” (Translation: like it or leave.) At that time, neither my son nor I were fond of vegetables. This is an understatement. But more importantly, such a policy, then and now, is beyond unethical and inhumane. Consequently, my mother babysat him until I could find a new center, with no such policy. It would be18 years before my son enjoyed vegetables. My son was traumatized, as we suspect is the case for the Black children in this 2021 story. This horrific experience still raises questions of food preferences, food insecurity, and equity for me. And the feeling of guilt for enrolling him in that childcare center does not ease much after all of these years/decades. #PostTraumaticStress #PresentTraumaticStress. A disturbing fact is that most Black children today, like my son, lack access to high-quality childcare. Unfortunately, all early childhood programs are not equal. Studies show that some children of color, particularly Black preschoolers, are the least likely to gain access to high-quality early care and education. Using results from the National Center for Education Statistics study of observational ratings of preschool settings, Barnett, Carolan, and Johns (2013) reported that 40% of Hispanic and 36% of White children were enrolled in center-based classrooms rated as “high” compared to only 25% of Black children. Furthermore, 15% of Black children who attended childcare centers ranked as “low” is almost two times the percentage of Hispanic and White children. Hispanic and Black children in home-based settings were even worse off, with more than 50% in settings rated as “low” compared with only 30% for White children (Dobbins et al., 2016). The implications for these racial disparities are that Black children attend programs not characterized by credentialed providers, small child-teacher ratios, rigorous curriculum, cleanliness, and healthy/nutritious meals, thereby exacerbating issues of inequity.
Food and Equity
