Black.Man.Teach.

Currently, black males represent less than 2% of our nation's teacher workforce. Our young brothers and sisters, our children, our schools, our communities, and our country need more black male teachers. To increase these numbers we must explore, examine, and confront all of the historical and current social and political forces at work that have led to this troubling scarcity. We must also look to those remarkable and courageous brothers who make up that 2% for guidance. We must encourage them. We must support them. We must challenge them to get better. To teach with passion. To teach with joy. To teach with rigor. We must celebrate them. We must listen to them and appreciate their unique paths, their journeys, their failures, their daily struggles, and their triumphs. We must hear and understand their motivations and inspirations, so that we in turn can motivate and inspire others. We must learn why they teach. Black.Man.Teach. seeks to share the stories of that valiant 2%, working on behalf of our children.

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Nathaniel S. Courtney

“I am Nathaniel S. Courtney Jr., AKA Nate Turner, and I teach because it is my firm belief that all students, regardless of race, religion, or socio-economic status, have the ability to learn and to become productive citizens who make meaningful contributions to society. I believe that all children deserve a quality education from sincere, caring, and qualified teachers who encourage students to maximize their potential and live out their true, divine purpose! Any adult who steps foot into the halls of an institution of learning should be genuine, passionate, and dedicated to the service of leading, motivating, and inspiring our youth through educational empowerment. As a proud African-American father, activist, artist, educator, and entrepreneur who is passionate about knowledge of self, history, family, music, and education, my purpose in life is to help others discover their true, divine mission, and lead a life filled with purpose and to leave a lasting legacy and mark on this world.

Growing up in Florida and spending summers in Brooklyn, I learned early on that it’s the “same game” being run on Black and Brown communities, no matter the region in which you live. When I was stopped for “walking on the wrong side of the road” in my neighborhood in Florida, I quickly made the correlation between that experience and the time I was “stopped and frisked” in New York City. The first time I met the police was when my cousin was stopped and detained. One of the officers saw me crying and offered me a cookie. Interestingly, while the cookie seemed like a nice gesture, I distinctly recall how my cousin and the other adults in the car were treated.

I teach to make my people aware of their human and civil rights. I teach to help instill dignity and pride in those who might otherwise feel inferior because of the long history of systemic racism, stereotyping, and overall oppression we have faced. I teach to help people persevere and overcome. I teach to wake up those that are asleep and ensure they stay “woke.” I teach so that we know who we are and the history of who we are. Afterall, in the words of the late, great John Henrick Clarke, "History is a clock that people use to tell their political and cultural time of day. It is a compass they use to find themselves on the map of human geography. It tells them where they are, but more importantly, what they must be."

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Pedro A. Noguera, Ph.D.

“The educational challenges facing Black children in American schools are well documented. In most schools they are overrepresented among those subject to punitive discipline, placed in special education and languishing in remedial courses that largely fail to meet their needs. Likewise, they are generally underrepresented in advanced placement and honors courses, gifted classes and programs associated with academic success.  

The educational problems are most acute for Black males. While the educational problems facing Black girls are also quite serious, they are typically not as severe as those confronting Black boys. What makes the problems facing Black males even more disturbing is that they mirror the challenges faced by Black male adults. Black men are vastly overrepresented in the nation's prison population, and among the ranks of the homeless and unemployed. In America, it is often the case that those we fail to educate, we are more likely to incarcerate. I would call the problem a crisis except by definition, crises are temporary and this situation is clearly not temporary.  

There are fortunately schools and students that deviate from these patterns. Schools where Black boys excel and thrive. Schools where they defy and overcome stereotypes because they understand that their race and class do not determine what they can become. Schools where it's cool to be smart.  The existence of such schools and programs serve as a reminder that there is nothing fundamentally wrong with Black children or Black boys when they are provided with adequate support and encouragement.

It is precisely because so many schools fail to do this that we desperately need more Black men to teach, counsel and lead schools. This is not because Black men are inherently good teachers, or that they have some natural capacity to connect with Black children, especially boys. Rather, it is because when schools are able to attract Black men who have the training and commitment to serve as exemplary educators, it can transform schools from those where failure is common, into places where success is the norm.  

Black men with the passion and commitment to excel in the field of education can compensate for absentee fathers by serving as the vital role models that so many Black children lack and desperately need. They can show them that real men can demonstrate discipline and compassion; that they can be responsible and worthy of respect, and that they can embody dignity and impeccable character.  

Black male educators cannot solve all of the problems that beset American education. Most of the problems are perpetuated by concentrated poverty, growing inequality, and failed educational policies. However, with the right mindset and training, Black male teachers can be agents of change. They can play a small but significant role in humanizing and transforming the schools where Black children are presently dehumanized, criminalized and marginalized. They can do this by serving as advocates, mentors and role models for the children that need them most.”  

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Peter Uwalaka

“Let’s face it. More than 80% of the teaching force is White. It does not surprise me that less than ten percent of low-income students, most of whom are students of color, graduate from college in four to six years. Our kids just are not making it through, and this is unacceptable. We have heard and seen the research; our kids leave college without a degree, not solely because of academic factors, but because they also lack the non-cognitive skills necessary to finish. Our students must internalize and own that they, too, are “America” and they are entitled to “life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.” They, too, can go to college— and they, too, can obtain a college degree. It is my responsibility to empower, to inspire, and to uplift my own. Who better equipped to serve students of my community than me? Our communities are in need of critically conscious leaders who have the problem-solving and critical-thinking skills necessary to have a transformational impact on their own worlds and the world at large, despite the systems of power created to impede their success. This is why I have dedicated my life to teaching.”

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Renaldo O’Neal 

“As a native of Detroit, MI, I learned early on what it meant to embrace my talents and avoid becoming another African American male falling prey to the judicial system. When I reflect back over my childhood growing up in the inner city, I faced various challenges. Despite these obstacles there were several people there to support me. Coaches, mentors, and siblings showed me tough love and pulled me from the dangers that many of our youth face today.

As a result of these role models reaching their hands back to pull me off the street through education and sports, I relocated to Dayton, OH. This is where my journey began to take shape and mold my thinking about educational choices and career opportunities. As a high school student I had a very successful educational and athletic foundation. This was truly a result of caring people taking time to groom me. As I began to enter college, my studies led me into the field of psychology, but I had a love and desire to work with youth. This desire opened up opportunities for me to mentor, coach, teach, and later on to become a school Administrator.

When I think about why I chose the field of education there are many reasons; but at the top of that list would be making a difference in the lives of a young African American males. As a father, coach, mentor and Instructional Leader, I am proud to call myself an educator. Having the experience of giving back and working with youth from all walks of life is priceless…..”

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Sean Guthrie

“I grew up like most young men in my neighborhood aspiring to become a NFL superstar, get rich, and get out of the hood. Although my mother is a teacher, the thought of me becoming one never crossed my mind, despite early signs of my gift, as I was always eager to help my fellow classmates. Teaching just didn't fit into my equation for success. I bought into the lie that money leads to purpose. As a 6'4", 230 pound, 17 year-old, and one of the few who hit the genetic lottery, I decided I would give football my all. This gave me the opportunity to go to Boston College on a football scholarship and ultimately lead to me to play for the NY Giants, Indianapolis Colts, and Washington Redskins. 

I had accomplished my dream. I was rich, playing in the NFL, and out of the hood. But why was something missing? After a series of injuries I would retire from the NFL after only 4 years. When I walked away from football I had many options for my career path but while visiting a school as a guest speaker I went into a math class and discovered something. While observing the class I saw a room full of students who looked like kids from my neighborhood, but more importantly I noticed the students didn't understand what was being taught. The teacher was actually incorrectly solving the problem on the board. I couldn't sit by and let this happen so I politely asked if I could show the students how I would solve the problem and was granted permission by the vice principal serving as my host. I went to the board and without a clear plan, simply began describe out loud what I would be thinking as I solved the problem. By relating the problem to more concepts they were familiar with, light bulbs went off. When I saw the look in their eyes and heard their, "Oh that's easy!" I was hooked. That was my first teaching high and I've been going back to the classroom ever since. 

I initially got into teaching because of a feeling but I stay in it because of the calling. I am called to help solve the real problem in education for children of color: how can children believe they can achieve if their own people don't invest in them? I plead with those who feel the call to answer with an open ear and I'm sure like me you will end up finding the peace that surpasses understanding. A peace that money couldn't buy me.”

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Eric Mosley

“I was at dinner in Brooklyn when I heard the George Zimmerman verdict, and for the first time in my life I literally felt unsafe, invisible, and worthless as a Black man in America. At the time my cousin and I were apartment hunting and were having dinner with one of my best friends who used to work at the same boys school in which I currently teach. We cried. We were silent. We commiserated over Trayvon’s life, and the lives of other black and brown boys and girls who don’t have an Al Sharpton to ignite or mobilize the country to rally for their justice. We made commitments to ourselves that we would relentlessly strive to use our classrooms to educate, love, and prepare our children to navigate a country that repeatedly and blatantly reminds us that it conditionally values their lives. I’m teaching my students to read well, analyze texts, and think critically. By doing so, I pray that those skills will permeate into their non-academic lives so that they can protect themselves with knowledge, analyze marginalizing social institutions of oppression, and think critically if ever “stopped-and-frisked” or pre-maturely forced to make adult decisions that could change or even end their lives. I teach in hopes that none of them will have to feel like I felt at that dinner table one year ago. 

I teach for my ancestors who died for opportunity—the names and faces of whom I will never be able to thank or repay. I teach for my two ten year-old brothers, Jared and Nacir. I teach for the boys who will soon become men. I teach because it’s personal.”

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John Taylor

“While in college, I was an accounting major in my junior year when I had a life altering experience that led me to become a teacher. I went to college in Pittsburgh, my hometown, and between classes had taken my grandmother grocery shopping and dropped her off at her Senior High Rise apartment building. En route back to school, driving through the neighborhood of Garfield, I stopped at a red light that controlled traffic at an intersection where there was a cemetery on the right. There was a large number of teenagers, draped from head to toe in red, exiting the cemetery and crossing the street in various formations, weaving through the line of cars backed up by the light. Out of nowhere and for no apparent reason to me, one of the young men used his fist to pound the hood of my car, leaving a small indentation in it. Of course, I was shocked and got angry and was about to exit the car to figure out why this young man had been so inclined to damage my car and in the process "disrespect" me. That was until he produced a gun from under his red flannel shirt and pointed it at my head. There were cars in front of and behind me, so there was nowhere to go. Knowing this, the young man proceeded to tap on the driver side window of the car with the gun, asking me "what's up?"  When the light changed, I pulled off.   

Less than a block away, I had to pull over to get control over my emotions, as the rare mix of anger and fear that I was experiencing overwhelmed me.  I could not for the life of me get my head around the idea that our "babies" were so far off course that something like this could have happened to me. My first instinct was to retaliate. I had only recently gotten out of the military, and considered going home and donning the fatigues and jump boots, then arming myself before returning to wage war with any young man affiliated with the color red. In an effort to regain my equilibrium, I reached out to some of the elders in my community for guidance.  I remember being told by one pastor the words that would change me forever.  "If you're not part of the solution, then you are part of the problem."  I changed my major to education the next day. I also joined the National Gang Peace Council and started to work directly with the young brothers who were most disconnected.

I truly believe that we, black men, are in a unique position to "save our babies." Those of us who have figured out how to navigate the "mainstream world" have a responsibility to connect with our young disenfranchised brothers and plug them in wherever they fit. So I don't feel like I have a choice. If I don't do this work, then I am only contributing to the epidemic that is young men of color not reaching their fullest potential.”

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Troy A. Monroe, Ed. D.

“Growing up in an urban setting I had the benefit of being taught by influential black male teachers who truly cared about their students. I looked forward to the interaction with them and knew that they cared about my success. After reflecting on my teaching career, I'm reminded of the good times and true enjoyment I felt interacting with my students. Seeing them learn and having fun while doing it made everyday a special day! They challenged me to bring the best instructional experiences that I could everyday. As a black male educator, I was often reminded by my students and their families, how rare we were in the field of education.  As an educator, I have set a standard to be a leader in this field so all children have the opportunity to know that a Black Man can Teach.”

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Richard Robinson

'I teach, in large part, because I’m still a student. Through each interaction, each lesson plan administered, “each off the wall” question fielded, I learn something new. I resonate with all the students I’ve ever taught, however, I see myself reflected in every young brother of color I have ever shared words with. Few things are more rewarding than witnessing that “a-ha!” moment. The scene where a student accomplishes something they before thought impossible or never even fathomed. I teach because I was taught with compassion, care and dedication. I remember the names of every teacher that I ever had on a regular basis. They each offered me something that I still carry with me today, especially those that looked like me. Finally, I teach because I recognize myself as a role model. Whether or not I accept the role matters little to reality that I am one. Youth always look to their elders (in this case “elder” meaning a person just years older) for indications of how things are done. They literally watch us, so I teach in a sense to model style, substance, and behavior. The example I embody will likely outlast any lesson I offer. To quote James Baldwin “Children have never been very good at listening to their elders, but they have never failed to imitate them.” This is why I teach.”

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Paul Sweat

"I decided to become a teacher in order to fill the void of male teachers in the classroom, and the lack of positive male role models for today’s urban youth. 

Growing up, besides physical education, I did not have a male classroom teacher until I reached the 8th grade, and a total of two male teachers by the time I graduated high school. The youth of today do not have many male role models besides actors, athletes, and musicians, all of whom they may never know on a personal level.   Growing up in East Orange, I have seen the types of individuals that our youth see and emulate on a daily basis. By being in the classroom, I get to change the perception of success that has been embedded into our future by the males in, or not in, their lives.  In short, I became a teacher to help better our future!”

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Radale Falana

"Growing up, there were very few positive male role models in the community and particularly those who represented what I aspired to be as a Black male. This was something very disappointing to me as a Black boy growing up in an urban city. It is this, that was and continues to be my driving force to not only be a Teacher, but also a role-model and cultivator of greatness in our community. I feel that it is my responsibility as a positive product of the inner-city, to ensure our Black boys make it… that they succeed… that they become examples of greatness."