Alyssa

Alyssa’s Bio:

Alyssa is a dancer and teacher.  She began her dance training by studying Simonson Jazz, Jazz Tap, Musical Theater, Modern, and Ballet in Boston where she grew up.   She pursued modern, choreography, improvisation, and contact dance at Sarah Lawrence College where she received her BA in Dance and Spanish.  She has a MS in Childhood Education with a certification in bilingual education from Bank Street College.

She has taught preschool through fifth grade in numerous schools in NYC, exploring dual language education and special education in private, public, and charter schools.  She loves to explore subcultures focusing on movement, language, and child development and the institutions that attempt to foster their growth in all areas. She currently co-teaches in a first grade inclusion classroom in a low-income neighborhood of Manhattan.  She is excited to be voicing and dancing expressions of racism and power dynamics as a member of White Folks Soul by Any Dance Necessary.

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Alyssa’s Stories:

Being a white teacher this year of a class of Puerto Ricans, African Americans and Black first grade students has been fascinating! I find many teachable moments that stem from the students curiosity at my whiteness. They seem to have not had many relationships with white people in their first six or seven years of life. I have been honored to act as a confident race-conscious white person who could respond honestly as a whole person with them in support of their curiosity. They continue to challenge me as I challenge them. Here are some anecdotes I would love to share with you. Please feel free to post any responses you might have. Please feel free to let us know how you would have responded in these situations.

Here are a few moments to remember from my first grade class this year:

Story #1.      (A better racial bio for me really) :

A black boy is talking to his table group as I pass by and says “Alyssa is Dominican?

I go over and ask whether they have a question for me. “Yeah. You Dominican?

“No, I am white”.

“You’re not Dominican?”

“No, but I speak Spanish and know a lot of Dominicans so I can understand how you might have gotten confused.”

Another child sits up at the other end of the table. “No. She is too white. She is so white.” Now all six kids at the table are listening carefully to the conversation.

“I am very white”, I respond, smiling.

“But what are you?” the same first questioner continues.

“I’m white. I’m also English and from a bunch of other European countries like Sweden and Germany,” I say.

“You’re English? You not English.”

“My mom is so I am a little English.” “I’m also White.”

Story #2.

We travel up many stairs to arrive at our school’s floor. We pause and I say let’s take a breath. I proceed to breathe in deeply and exhale all the time watching the peculiar expression on the face before me in deep thought. The 7 year-old black boy then says to me, having solidified his thought, “Only white people breathe like that.”

I reply that it’s interesting that he is noticing who he has seen breath like that. I have seen many people of different colors breathe deeply. My hope was to affirm his racial observations as valid while also sharing some of my own more inclusive ones for him to consider.

Story #3:

One Puerto Rican six hear-old girl, who I’ll call Grace, called me over, her high pitched voice seemingly upset. Both boys are black.

Grace: “They are calling me black! I’m not black!

Boy 1: “She is black. She can be black.”

Grace: “I’m not black, Alyssa! I told them. I’m Puerto Rican.

Boy 2: “I told her she can be Black on the inside. She can be black inside.”

(The energy seems to switch as he said this. It felt as though he was trying to give her an in to his group. It was as though he wanted to provide her with the chance for her to indentify as being black and therefore join the black group with the two of them.)

Alyssa: “Well, Grace can decide for herself what she feels like she is on the inside. That’s for Grace to decide.

Grace: I’m Puerto Rican.