Rise Up For Students: Recent Episodes
Matt Halvorson
The Rise Up For Students podcast features conversations about race and equity in education in Seattle and across Washington State.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond and recognizes the people among us who are boldly shaping the future.
Photo by Alex Garland
“There is never time in the future in which we will work out our salvation. The challenge is in the moment; the time is always now.”
— James Baldwin
By Marcus Harrison Green
We do not celebrate Black men enough.
And when I say that, I do not mean it as a contest. I do not mean that in lifting up Black men we must lower anyone else in our vast and beautiful community. I mean that we rarely linger on the fullness of Black men: on their gentleness, their patience, their devotion, their quiet integrity. We speak often of Black men in the language of crisis or spectacle. We narrate them through violence, through failure, through myth. But we do not sit long enough with their tenderness. We do not archive their care.
And yet, that care is everywhere.
My first archive was my father.
My father, Philip Green, never announced himself as a lesson. He did not gather us around the table to lecture about manhood. He taught the way so many Black men of his generation taught, by living. His life was the curriculum. His days were the text.
For nearly five decades, he has worked at the VA Medical Center in Seattle, serving veterans with a steadiness that feels almost sacred. Perhaps it was the military that shaped him. Perhaps it was simply who he already was. But he carried with him a creed that felt both simple and profound: If something needs doing, you do it. And you do it without fanfare.
No applause. No social media post. No plaque.
Just duty.
I watched him deliver groceries to cancer survivors who were too tired from treatment to leave their homes. I watched him buy — with his own money — the food to feed hundreds at community fundraisers for survivors, for kinship caregivers, for children who needed school supplies their parents could not afford. He did not just donate. He chopped. He seasoned. He stirred. He stood over heat for hours so others could be nourished.
I watched him become community transit, driving elders and disabled neighbors to grocery stores and back, because the bus route was too far and the walk too long. I watched him open our home to children who did not share his blood and erase any daylight between them and those who did. There was no hierarchy of love in our house. No distinction between adopted and biological. Only belonging.
This is what I mean when I say we do not celebrate Black men enough.
Because the world has so often flattened them into caricature — brute, absent, hardened — that when they show up as architects of tenderness, as engineers of stability, as custodians of other people’s burdens, we struggle to know what to call it. We do not yet have the language for Black masculinity that bends without breaking, that protects without posturing, that loves without spectacle.
My father is not loud. He does not declare his affection the way some do, wrapping every phone call in “I love you” like a ribbon. You may not hear it from him every day — perhaps not even every year. But you will see it. You will see it in the way he shows up. In the way he returns. In the way he does not disappear.
He is part of the machinery of community, not the polished exterior, not the microphone, not the ribbon-cutting, but the gears. The parts that turn quietly so everything else can move. The parts you only notice when they stop working.
And he has never stopped.
What moves me most, especially now, is not only who he has been, but who he has allowed himself to become. A Baby Boomer. A child of the 60s and 70s. A man shaped by an era with rigid definitions of masculinity. And yet I have watched him soften in the right places. I have watched him listen. I have watched him stretch. I have watched him embrace progress not as a threat to his identity but as an expansion of it. He has allowed masculinity to be fluid, to be thoughtful, to be humane.
That, too, is courage.
When I was a child, he would come home exhausted from long shifts, shoulders heavy from the day. And still, he would sit with me by the fireplace in our living room and read the latest Superman comic. He gave each character a voice. He leaned into the drama. He made it theatrical in the way only a father performing for his child can.
Superman was my favorite voice, of course.
Because to me, he was not reading about a hero. He was one.
Not the kind who flies across the sky in a red cape. But the kind who stands in grocery store parking lots waiting for an elder to finish shopping. The kind who wakes up before dawn to serve people who may never know his name. The kind who loves children — all children — as if they were his own.
We celebrate the exceptional. We celebrate the loud. We celebrate the historic firsts and the viral moments. But there is another lineage of Black men who deserve celebration — the steady ones. The ones whose names will not trend. The ones whose lives are measured not in headlines but in households held together.
Black History Month often calls us to remember the grand figures. And we should. But history is also made in kitchens. In carpools. In hospital corridors. In living rooms warmed by a fireplace and a comic book.
My father is not a statue. He is not a syllabus. He is not a speech.
He is a man who did what needed doing.
And in that quiet devotion, he gave me a new definition of strength — one rooted not in dominance, but in service. Not in spectacle, but in steadfastness. Not in being seen, but in being there.
We do not celebrate Black men enough.
But I am starting here.
*Original artwork created by Devin Chicras for the South Seattle Emerald.*
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond and recognizes the people among us who are boldly shaping the future.
“Anything’s possible, you gotta dream like you never seen obstacles.”
— J.Cole
By Marcus Harden
The beautiful thing about artists and creators is that they curate a world that is, narrate a world that was, and dream of a world that can still be.
The truest artists don’t just create for others — they recreate themselves, again and again, allowing their art to grow as they grow. And maybe the greatest gift they give us is this:
Permission to grow with them.
That’s what it feels like to watch someone you love step fully into who they’re becoming.
Todd Corleone is an artist. A creator. A builder of worlds.
But I’ve had the privilege of knowing Todd Williams Jr. — Toddy to me. And that matters.
He’s one of New Haven, Connecticut’s finest exports — a city that symbolizes light, covenant, and harbor: a protected place built on faith, law, and learning. A city where belief and resistance share the same streets.
In 1839, Africans aboard La Amistad revolted against enslavement and were imprisoned in New Haven, a fight that ended with a Supreme Court ruling declaring they were illegally enslaved and should be freed.
That happened in his city.
And for over a decade now, he’s been in this city — plying his trade as an artist, a community servant, and someone who lives his art out loud.
Forged by fire, he’s lived the creed that only those bold enough to chase their dreams are fortunate enough to catch them. He doesn’t just want the best for his own life; he wants the best for others — and that posture shapes how he creates, how he speaks, how he inspires.
Whether mentoring young people, serving as a community resource advocate, or performing on stages like Dreamville or Bumbershoot, he allows both his presence and the present of his artistry to lift others.
He’s overcome so much, like so many of our young people. And while he’s fallen, he’s never allowed himself to stay down.
When I see Todd’s courage and creative clarity, I don’t just see talent. I see inheritance. A lineage shaped by intellect, faith, and the audacity to claim freedom — and then help free others.
And I’m proud. Not just of the artist the world sees, but of the young man I’ve watched grow. He may be his biggest critic, but as I remind him often, he has an entire Todd fan club — Corleone and Williams alike.
It’s beautiful how art imitates life.
And among many reasons, that’s why he is indeed, Black History Today.
*Original artwork created by Devin Chicras for the South Seattle Emerald.*
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond and recognizes the people among us who are boldly shaping the future.
“Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave.”
— Maya Angelou
By Marcus Harden
Hustle culture has come under critique lately — sometimes conflated with a lack of substance, sometimes confused with an inability to center humanity because it’s rooted in capitalism, and sometimes positioned as the antithesis to one’s own liberation. Those critiques may (or may not) be true.
But when I think about hustle culture, I think about the power of matriarchy in the Black community:
Nurturing
Tender
Faith-filled
Strong
Courageous
Tenacious
Resilient
Dynamic
Culture-building
And so many more.
When a person’s culture — when their very being — is the ability to “hustle” for themselves, and maybe more importantly for the community around them, every community around them, that is a culture of service that cannot be ignored. Kitisha Jones is someone who embraces and builds culture wherever she goes and hustles — without cease — to make sure community is formed and sustained.
While she has deep Southern roots, her feet and her impact are firmly planted in the Seattle/King County region. I’ve had the privilege of knowing her since our middle school days at McClure. I joke that she was the assistant principal at a young age. Her maturity and stewardship of space showed even then when she was a student office assistant. (I really did think she was an employee early on — until I saw her in my classes, lol.) Not because of how she looked, but because she always led from a place of calm and vision.
That spirit continued years later as I watched her serve as a true “do-it-all” educator with Seattle Public Schools. Need someone to lead extracurricular activities? She was there. Need someone to coach every sports team and club imaginable? She was there. Need a student and family advocate? Someone to run intake processes for students furthest from educational opportunity — or harmed by the very systems meant to serve them? She was there. Someone to showrun graduation, to be a shoulder for students and parents to cry on and celebrate with? Call Ms. Kitisha.
She is, without question, one of the most passionate and steady advocates I know.
Now, in her role as a Student and Family Liaison at Community Passageways, she doesn’t just “work with” young people and families — she shows up for them. Fully. Especially those navigating trauma, instability, and systems that don’t love them.
She stands in the gap. She makes sure students aren’t processed, but truly seen. Not just heard, but understood. Her work is trauma-informed, yes — but more than that, it’s heart-informed. She knows how powerful it is when someone genuinely believes in you, because she carries that belief into every room she enters.
And if that wasn’t enough, she built her own table, too.
As the Founder and CEO of A Plan Of Purpose (A.P.O.P.), she created something deeply intentional — a space where young people and families can heal, grow, and rediscover who they are. Through mentorship, life skills work, and healing circles, she creates environments where people can exhale. Where they can be vulnerable. Where they can rebuild trust — in themselves and in others. This isn’t just work for her. It’s calling. It’s legacy. It’s lived.
Her ability to show young people what it means to live life, whether traveling, serving in church, traveling the world, supporting any major event in life and leading beauty days at her job to ensure every child feels good and looks good on picture day, youth resume days, job fairs, the seeds she continually plants blossom.
As a wife to a supportive husband, the sister and auntie to so many, and the proud mother of two adult children (and three or four unofficial more as “Auntie” or “Gigi”), and a strong, grounding presence in her community, she brings wisdom that can’t be taught in a classroom. She understands systems — but she also understands people. Especially those who’ve been mislabeled, overlooked, or misunderstood. She has a gift for reminding people of their strength when they’ve forgotten it themselves. She doesn’t judge where someone starts. She honors it — and then helps them move forward with clarity and purpose.
Because of our “Martin and Pam” dynamic, I rarely tell her this to her face (and I’ll deny it even now), but…
I’m proud of her — not just for what she does, but for how she does it. With compassion. With courage. With consistency. Her unwavering commitment to service, her constant desire to be better for her family, her selfless faith in service to her community, her hustle for the culture — it’s truly inspiring.
Those attributes, and so many more, are why she is indeed Black History Today!
*Original artwork created by Devin Chicras for the South Seattle Emerald.*
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond and recognizes the people among us who are boldly shaping the future.
Photo by Alex Garland
“The function of freedom is to free someone else.”
— Toni Morrison
By Marcus Harrison Green
There are women whose names fill textbooks. And then there are women whose labor fills the gaps those textbooks leave behind.
My mother, Cynthia Anne Green, belongs to the latter tradition: the lineage of Black women who have served as the quiet infrastructure of American democracy. The ones who stabilized families while institutions faltered. The ones who kept communities intact when policy failed them.
For nearly three decades, she worked at the West Hill Family Center in Skyway, long before it carried her name. Her official title of “Program Assistant” was modest, but her responsibilities were not. In communities like ours (Black working class, and too often neglected by public systems), job descriptions rarely capture the truth. She was an eviction prevention advocate when rent outpaced wages. She was a grief counselor when gunfire shattered families. She was a mediator, chaplain, resource broker, and sometimes the last person standing between a family and collapse.
She found rental assistance for those on the brink. She helped keep utilities from being shut off. She secured food for people who walked in hungry, sometimes sharing her own lunch. She supported grandparents raising grandchildren after addiction or incarceration had hollowed out a generation. She counseled young men trying to exit gangs in a society that had already written them off. She prayed with those facing cancer diagnoses and comforted parents burying children.
This was not charity. It was structural repair.
In communities where public safety nets are frayed, Black women often become the net.
I remember her coming home late. Exhaustion was not dramatic; it was cumulative. It settled into her shoulders after hours of listening to stories that most of society prefers not to hear. People laid their burdens at her feet because she was willing to receive them. She offered empathy without an invoice. Compassion without expectation of return.
She described it as living up to her Christian values. I came to understand it as something larger: an ethic rooted in the long Black tradition of collective responsibility. The understanding that your survival is tied to mine.
When the community renamed the West Hill Family Center in her honor—designating it the Cynthia A. Green Family Center—she did not want to attend the ceremony. She had requested that any money spent celebrating her be redirected to families in need. Recognition made her uncomfortable. She did not believe herself exceptional.
But what she could not see—what so many people like her cannot see—is that institutions often rest upon their unrecognized labor. The renaming was not merely about one woman. It was about making visible the scaffolding she had quietly built. It was about acknowledging that the building had long borne her imprint, whether her name was on it or not.
She went, finally, because she understood that sometimes allowing a community to honor you is also a form of service.
Even in retirement, now in her eighties, she continues to answer calls from kinship caregivers, primarily grandparents raising grandchildren. They call from the edges of exhaustion. From cars doubling as homes. From kitchens where food has run out before the month has. From the quiet despair of loving children fiercely while navigating systems that are indifferent at best.
She speaks with each of them as people. Not as problems to be processed, but as lives to be respected.
In a country that measures value through visibility and volume, her work has been neither loud nor self-promoting. But it has been foundational. The rent paid. The lights kept on. The food secured. The young man who chose a different path because someone believed he could. The child who grew up in a grandparent’s care because that grandparent found support instead of isolation.
Black History Month often invites us to elevate the extraordinary. The orators. The elected officials. The pioneers whose names reverberate nationally. But our history has also been carried by women like my mother. Women whose labor was local, intimate, and relentless.
Last year, she spoke at the swearing-in ceremonies of King County Executive Zahilay and Seattle Mayor Katie Wilson. Public speaking terrifies her. But she has always said that when the cause is larger than herself, she will “overcome the fear and step into courage.” And when she spoke, she did not center her own journey. She centered the community. She reminded those newly in power of the people whose lives are most shaped by their decisions.
Her life has been an argument. An argument that dignity is not aspirational; it is inherent. That no one should be discarded because they are poor, grieving, struggling, or aging. That community is not a slogan but a practice enacted in daily, unglamorous acts of care.
I know something else about her labor, something less public. When mental health challenges cast long shadows over our own household, she did not retreat. Her patience, her steadiness, and her refusal to give up are the reasons I am here to write these words. She extended to her own children the same grace she extended to strangers.
There are buildings that bear her name. There are proclamations marking a day in her honor. But her truest legacy is dispersed across Skyway and the South End in stabilized households, sustained elders, and in grandchildren who grew up in homes that might otherwise have been lost.
History often records the laws that were passed. It less often records the women who made survival possible in spite of those laws.
My mother’s life is a testament to that quieter history. The history of Black women who held communities together long enough for change to have a chance.
And she is still, even now, holding.
*Original artwork created by Devin Chicras for the South Seattle Emerald.*
If you haven't already heard, we are in the midst of producing another Black History Today series on Rise Up for Students. I hope you'll check it out (and grab a tissue -- you'll need it, trust me).
This year's essays carry special meaning for a few reasons:
One is the guest writers like the Colemans, Michaela Kyles, Julian Lake, Adama Seck, Marcus Harrison Green and others who have brought tears to my eyes with their expressions of love.
Another is that these are the first new Black History Today essays we have shared since the long-running series took on new life last year as the History Lives Here exhibit at the Northwest African American Museum in Seattle. Words can't express how grateful we are to NAAM director Brandon Bird, to Nick Almerico who designed the exhibit, and to everyone who helped this work enter this larger world. (We'll be at the museum discussing all of this on Saturday (2/28) beginning at 1pm. Come say hi.)
The third reason this year's essays are hitting extra hard is that they are perhaps more needed than ever. As the government tries to ban DEI and erase Black history, and as stormtroopers terrorize our communities and kidnap our neighbors, these expressions of love and solidarity -- celebrations of life and love and the history being made around us -- couldn't be more timely or more important.
So, please, join us by reading and sharing. And if you find yourself inspired, if you find yourself thinking of someone in your life who deserves to be recognized, please tell us about them. Let's get their story out there, too.
We are all making history right now, always deciding what part we will play. Thanks for doing what you do. Keep it up.
Love,
Matt
“If I Die in Minneapolis,” by Cousin Wolf / Cover Photo by Marcus Harrison Green
P.S. I wrote a song about the ICE invasion and the ongoing resistance to racist, fascist brutality happening in Minnesota and throughout the country. It’s called "If I Die in Minneapolis" (by Cousin Wolf) and it will be out on streaming services on Friday (2/27). Buy it now to hear it sooner. Proceeds from the sale of the single will go directly to support ICE-impacted families.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond and recognizes the people among us who are boldly shaping the future.
By Marcus Harden
C.S. Lewis once spoke of The Four Loves and the ways love shows up in our lives.
Storge — the love of familiarity.
The quiet, selfless love. The kind that lives in presence, not performance. The love a parent gives a child, steady, patient, affectionate without needing to be announced.
Philia — the love of friendship.
Chosen family. Deep bonds built through trust, shared values, and lived experiences. A love that, at times, runs thicker than blood.
Eros — the romantic love.
The love of true life partners. Intimate, intentional, and bold. The decision to do life for and with another.
Agape — the charitable love.
The unconditional love. Patient. Kind. Giving without keeping score. The love many, no matter the form, call “God” love.
So this year, as we celebrate a traditional day of love, it is my honor to honor all four.
Welcome to part two of this special four-part series — an offering of love for those who truly are Black History Today.
“Each relationship between two persons is absolutely unique. That is why you cannot love two people the same. It simply is not possible. You love each person differently because of who they are and the uniqueness that they draw out of you.”
— William Young (from "The Shack”)
Agape - Unconditional Love
Agape, or “God Love” as it’s often called, makes me think of people with multiple children. It’s a love that doesn’t play favorites, but is pure and full and somehow also unique to each person who receives it.
And Agape is often defined as being unconditional and intentional, patient and kind, gracious and steady, and maybe most importantly, forgiving.
There are few that embody those characteristics like Michaela Kyles. To know her is to know a mirror for love, light and the fragile reflection that living life openly, vibrantly and proudly brings. She doesn’t just speak love, she radiates it. She doesn’t just survive life, she lives it, fully and out loud.
Born and raised in GOD’S COUNTRY — Seattle’s glorious Southend — her roots of community and family and living audaciously were sewn into her glistening (and maybe printed) soulful fabric by her mother, THE Ms. Gayle. They were planted to flourish by her father, Popsi, and continuously affirmed by her eldest brother, Snook, and by her companion and protector, Samuel.
She is homegrown brilliance. She is legacy walking.
Michaela is the sum of all the love that’s poured into her, whilst being an even larger vessel to pour out into the world. Her most admirable traits (out of many) is her ability to love and love hard, to win and win big, and to make even her trials stairways to her triumphs.
Through personal hardships, she’s grown into a woman who has transformed grief into gratitude, challenges into championing, setbacks into strategy, and pain into purpose. What tried to bend her only built her. What tried to quiet her only clarified her.
I’ve had the privilege of calling her “Little Sis” for a while, but I beam with pride seeing the woman she’s become. Never striving for perfection but always striving to be the perfect and true version of herself — unapologetically.
And as the adage goes, the permission she gives herself gives every single person around her permission to do the same. And it doesn’t hurt that she is going to hype you up with a well-timed “Ayyyyyyyyyeeeeee” and a milly rock (or whatever the kids are doing now) to ensure the hype sticks.
We need more love. But more than that, we need more carriers of it, people so enthusiastic about it that it makes us love a little harder and longer ourselves. That agape love. One that’s patient. One that’s kind. One that’s intentional.
That’s Michaela. She’s intentional in living her life, intentional as a parent, intentional as a friend, intentional in cultivating and building community, intentional in shedding love and light from the boardrooms to social-media-influencer backrooms.
She is resilient yet tender. Bold yet gracious. Competitive yet collaborative. Grounded yet luminous. Fierce yet forgiving. Joyful yet disciplined. She carries her Southend roots with dignity, her family’s imprint with honor, and her own becoming with courage.
Seattle is a stronger city because of the history Michaela has made here. The world is a better place because we have people like her in it, people who love out loud, who build intentionally, who heal visibly, who show up fully, who choose joy defiantly, who extend grace generously.
And that’s why Michaela Kyles is Black History Today!
See Michaela Kyles live on Mother’s Day at Populus Seattle:
The Work of Loving is a Mother’s Day viewing experience from Memoirs on Winging It at Populus Seattle.
This gathering is an invitation into a real, honest conversation between Michaela Kyles and her teenage daughter, Levi. They’re talking about love, parenting, growing up, and learning from each other in real time. The stuff we don’t always have language for, but feel every day.
This series was created out of a desire to hold space for the conversations many families are still figuring out how to have. It’s reflective, sometimes funny, sometimes tender, and rooted in truth. No perfection. No performance. Just presence.
Guests will join for a communal viewing, followed by time to connect and reflect together. The afternoon will close with a cocktail gathering at Firn in honor of Mother’s Day.
*Original artwork created by Devin Chicras for the South Seattle Emerald.*
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond and recognizes the people among us who are boldly shaping the future.
“If there is no struggle, there is no progress.”
— Frederick Douglass
By Julian Lake
For my Uncle Spencer Hill:
People talk often about grit and determination, but I have been thinking recently about what those ideas really mean. Things like working hard, helping others, and never backing down immediately come to mind.
Spencer Hill
And that's also when I think of you. For the entirety of my life, I have seen that you always give the world your personal best. Whether that be running a marathon, raising your son, or helping kids who need a mentor, through it all, you bring a sense of brightness and joy that is irreplaceable.
I recall a time last summer when you invited me to go on a run with you. I outran myself immediately and wanted to give up. I probably would have if not for you guiding me along and pacing me. You told me to stay calm and not overreact because once you reach the flow state, you'll never stop running.
Beyond the more traditional ideas of strength, you have always shown a knack for accepting and taking on change. I think that shows real strength, because you have to be sure of who you are and what you stand for. Maybe that's just the leader in you, but it still amazes me to this day. You’ve become a runner and a golfer, a father and a business owner (All in Good Company), a board member and a Washington resident — all in the past few years.
You talk about discipline and how it will help everything in life become more fluid and easier. Everyone sees this in you. I cannot express how impressive it was to watch you run that marathon two years ago. I know people say that things seem straight out of a movie sometimes, but this moment really was. It also felt like you were proving to us that anything was possible.
I know the same discipline has allowed you to do meaningful work as a mentor, rising up the ranks at Friends of the Children. And the same strength and vision have helped you start and maintain your own business doing work that pushes in the right direction.
The people around you absolutely feel the energy you give off. I honestly don't think I have laughed harder or worked harder with anyone else, and I am 100% certain that can be said with a lot of people in your life. This presence is rare and very magical. You inspire through action and presence and not just through words.
This same energy is obvious in your music (Cee Goods) and the way it draws people in. You make beats that people feel in their soul, and your music carries a part of you out into the world to be shared. That sounds gentle, but it is another example of strength.
For you to be your authentic self all the time is what sets you apart. In a world built against Black men, you have been a trailblazer your entire life. You have proved that with hard work and doing what you love, anything is possible. Helping others has been your life's work, and it has helped me gain a new sense of empathy for others.
The most important thing about you is your love for your family. You are always there for us. People can count on you and you deliver. You never complain and you look out for us. You speak for us when we need it. You are one of the pieces to our pie that we need to be able to function.
So as life goes on, one thing stays the same: the impact of you, Spencer. No matter what happens and how much has changed in our lives, I know for a fact that I can count on you. You are always working hard and trying to help others reach their goals. You are constant and passionate. It is the way to move forward that connects everything from memories, experiences, and relationships. You carry such a powerful light, Spencer, and you are a shining example for me of what it means to be living Black History Today. I love you!
Spencer Hill and Julian Lake
*Original artwork created by Devin Chicras for the South Seattle Emerald.*
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond and recognizes the people among us who are boldly shaping the future.
By Marcus Harden
C.S. Lewis once spoke of The Four Loves and the ways love shows up in our lives.
Storge — the love of familiarity.
The quiet, selfless love. The kind that lives in presence, not performance. The love a parent gives a child, steady, patient, affectionate without needing to be announced.
Philia — the love of friendship.
Chosen family. Deep bonds built through trust, shared values, and lived experiences. A love that, at times, runs thicker than blood.
Eros — the romantic love.
The love of true life partners. Intimate, intentional, and bold. The decision to do life for and with another.
Agape — the charitable love.
The unconditional love. Patient. Kind. Giving without keeping score. The love many, no matter the form, call “God” love.
So this year, as we celebrate a traditional day of love, it is my honor to honor all four.
Welcome to part two of this special four-part series — an offering of love for those who truly are Black History Today.
“To be loved by someone who knows your flaws and chooses you anyway is the deepest freedom.”
— James Baldwin
Eros - Romantic Love
“To be, or not to be? That is the question.”
The answer is always, always to be!
For so long – and even now – we’ve been told that love, especially young and Black love, didn’t exist.
Whether it be the exaggerated accounts of broken homes, the lack of visibly healthy relationships or just the hyper-independence this world can bring, partnership at its highest level has been downplayed.
But that narrative is thwarted by the amazing love of Adama Seck and Keisha Credit, a modern day power couple, bonded together through purpose and passion.
Adama is a son of Seattle’s Central District via Senegalian roots, and his commitment to his wife and family is the only thing that outshines the passion and dedication he shows to his community. Whether walking alongside students needing access to college, AmeriCorps members gaining access to the world, or across the table from leaders or with companies helping them access their stated values through deep equity work, Adama is a steward of community trust and foundations building for this and generations to come.
Keisha is a daughter of Seattle’s Central District, shaped by a community that taught her the value of resilience, relationship, and looking out for all people – especially her people. As a mother, a neighbor, and a community-builder, Keisha understands that the decisions we make around work, money, and opportunity are never just individual. They ripple through families and generations. She shows up with care, honesty, and accountability, holding space for people to ask real questions about stability, ownership, and what it truly means to thrive.
The Central District lives in how Keisha works. In her insistence on truth-telling. In her belief that access should never be gate-kept. In the way she teaches with both patience and precision. Her professional journey, from corporate leadership to entrepreneurship to coaching, is less a pivot than a return: a return to community, to shared wisdom, to the belief that prosperity should be legible and reachable for the people who built this city.
She is seen, especially by the person who sees her most:
“To my love, Keisha,
I need you to hear me: I’m so proud of you. Not just for what you’ve done, but for the way you are—the way you carry yourself with warmth, intention, and a kind of strength that makes people feel safe and seen. You have this quiet power about you: elevation without arrogance, wealth and soundness without noise, excellence that doesn’t need permission. You’re boundlessly Black and brilliant, and you make me believe in what’s possible just by being in your presence.
Yes, the world sees the milestones, your UW Foster master’s, your communications degree, the businesses you’ve helped fund, the Forbes feature.
Those are real, and I celebrate them. But they’re not the reason you shine. You shine because you lead with honor. Because when responsibility finds you, you meet it with integrity and follow-through. Because your Delta Sigma Theta values—sisterhood, scholarship, and service—show up in your everyday choices, not just in your titles.
And my love… watching you mother our babies is holy to me. The way you love Serigne and Amady Sincere, the way you nurture and protect, the way you still make room for Dior and show up with steadiness and care—it’s a living example of what legacy looks like. You are a generational curse-breaker, not in theory, but in the small, consistent ways you choose love, discipline, and joy.
Thank you for being my partner, my peace, and my motivation. Thank you for being a beacon, here in Seattle and everywhere your light reaches. Keep going, keep building, keep believing. I’m with you, always, and I’m cheering for you louder than anyone.
Signed: Your eternal love/fiancé/father of your kids/handsome chocolate handyman/ backbone for forward momentum/ protector/ black Knight, and shining armor.
Adama I. Seck”
While many shy away from the phrase “relationship goals,” there is still space for relationship exemplars. They show what is possible when two committed, powerful people choose to be – to be grounded, to be intentional, to be in alignment. Today, their collective choice to be, both as individuals and as a couple, is to be Black History Today.
*Original artwork created by Devin Chicras for the South Seattle Emerald.*
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond and recognizes the people among us who are boldly shaping the future.
By Marcus Harden
C.S. Lewis once spoke of The Four Loves and the ways love shows up in our lives.
Storge — the love of familiarity.
The quiet, selfless love. The kind that lives in presence, not performance. The love a parent gives a child, steady, patient, affectionate without needing to be announced.
Philia — the love of friendship.
Chosen family. Deep bonds built through trust, shared values, and lived experiences. A love that, at times, runs thicker than blood.
Eros — the romantic love.
The love of true life partners. Intimate, intentional, and bold. The decision to do life for and with another.
Agape — the charitable love.
The unconditional love. Patient. Kind. Giving without keeping score. The love many, no matter the form, call “God” love.
So this year, as we celebrate a traditional day of love, it is my honor to honor all four.
Welcome to part two of this special four-part series — an offering of love for those who truly are Black History Today.
“Brotherhood isn’t inherited. It’s chosen—again and again.”
Philia - Bruce and J-Mike
There’s global conversation happening around human connectivity, and how it’s being lost — specifically amongst men. As our sense of community erodes, as our traditional Third Spaces and intentional connection methods are replaced by screens and algorithms, we find that how we see each other and the world has changed.
I’ve always been a fan of bonds forged by choice. As Proverbs says, “there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.” It’s a tale as old as time, yet one not always deeply explored as to how and why the bond exists.
Frodo and Sam. Naruto and Saske. Steve and Bucky. Jon Snow and Samwell. Some bonds forged through rivalry, others forged by complementary minds and skill sets, and still others are born of coincidence and shared purpose. All are deeply rooted in love and loyalty.
Arthur Bruce, Jr. and JaMichael (J-Mike) Glenn give me and others hope about what chosen brotherhood, Philo, can represent. Their brotherhood was forged in Montgomery, Ala. — or “The Gump,” as they affectionately refer to their hometown. They’ve been friends since bumping into each other in the hallways of their secondary school, bonded seemingly ever since.
To know Bruce is to know the ultimate multi-hyphenate — entrepreneur, bartender, emcee, personal trainer, business professional, travel guru and so many other things. Tying each of his seemingly disparate talents together is that Bruce is a humble convener of people, selflessly and effortlessly bringing people together and make them feel seen and valued. His humility is outshone only by this ability to center others, and his wisdom and empathy make clear that Bruce is a 90-year-old southern spirit in a much younger vessel.
To know J-Mike is to know a throwback to almost sitcom-level “man.” Hard-working and earnest when it comes to his family, J-Mike and his amazing wife model what modern love looks like, truly enjoying each other and spreading that joy to all who are near. As a trusted uncle, J-Mike is a guidepost to those who come behind him.
To watch them show up together — no jealously, no ego, just true relational trust that effortlessly ebbs and flows — in everything from debates about college football to accountable conversations about being better men, you quickly see that this is not a friendship carried foward simply out of convenience, but one forged for growth.
What Bruce and J-Mike model is Philo in action. It’s not loud or performative but chosen, steady, rooted in truth and trust. A brotherhood by choice, not chance, built beyond bloodlines (throw your 👆🏿up #IYKYK).
In a culture that teaches men to hide behind grind, ego, or silence, their brotherhood feels both radical and familiar. Old-school and future-facing. Barbershop and front porch. A friendship forged and maintained for growth, accountability, and joy. If we are serious about healing men and restoring community, it starts by honoring bonds like J-Mike and Bruce’s. For this and so many other reasons, Arthur Bruce, Jr. and JaMichael Glenn are the epitome of Black History Today.
*Original artwork created by Devin Chicras for the South Seattle Emerald.*
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond and recognizes the people among us who are boldly shaping the future.
By Marcus Harden
C.S. Lewis once spoke of The Four Loves and the ways love shows up in our lives.
Storge — the love of familiarity.
The quiet, selfless love. The kind that lives in presence, not performance. The love a parent gives a child, steady, patient, affectionate without needing to be announced.
Philia — the love of friendship.
Chosen family. Deep bonds built through trust, shared values, and lived experiences. A love that, at times, runs thicker than blood.
Eros — the romantic love.
The love of true life partners. Intimate, intentional, and bold. The decision to do life for and with another.
Agape — the charitable love.
The unconditional love. Patient. Kind. Giving without keeping score. The love many, no matter the form, call “God” love.
So this year, as we celebrate a traditional day of love, it is my honor to honor all four.
Welcome to this special four-part series — an offering of love for those who truly are Black History Today.
“There is no love like the love of a brother or a sister; it is a love rooted in shared memory.”
Storge — Levi & Aaron
I’ve had the pleasure and privilege to watch these two amazing young people truly grow—from before the cradle, to watching them blossom into their gifts.
Their mother’s intentional growth to give them all that she knows to give—love, light, and surrounding them in a village that gives them permission to live life unapologetically, and to lead even as they blaze their own trail.
Whether in the classroom, in community, on stage, or in the kitchen—while their story is not yet complete, the pages they’ve written already give the greatest gift we all get to bear… hope.
Levi & Aaron, you are seen. You are believed in. You are loved.
And you are Black History Today.
As written by guest author Micheala Kyles
By Michaela Kyles
A Love Letter to Levi
(An expression of Storge love that stays, grows, and anchors us through becoming)
Levi,
You came into my life at a moment when I was still learning who I was. I was young, becoming, unsteady, and grieving in ways I didn’t yet have language for. I was mourning the loss of your twin sister, carrying a sorrow so deep it lived in my body. And in the middle of that quiet devastation, there you were.
You saved my life.
Not by trying. Not by knowing. But simply by being. By needing me. By loving me. By anchoring me to the present when grief tried to pull me under. Loving you gave me a reason to stay, to heal, to grow forward instead of folding inward. You were light when I didn’t believe light still existed.
You have always loved fiercely. You protect the people you love with an instinct that feels ancient, like something you were born remembering. You do not love halfway. You do not show up timidly. You love with your whole chest, your whole spirit, your whole truth.
I am endlessly proud of how deeply you feel your convictions and how bravely you stand by them. You do not bend yourself to fit the moment—you let the moment rise to meet you. Your brilliance is undeniable. Your writing is culture-shifting. It challenges, comforts, and cracks things open. Your beauty is otherworldly, not because of how you look, but because of how you are.
You move through the world like art. You can dance. You can sing. You can fence. You can think. You can feel. You have always been many things at once, refusing to be simplified or softened for anyone’s comfort.
You have always known yourself.
Watching you grow has been one of the greatest honors of my life. You remind me that love can be both tender and unyielding. That softness and strength are not opposites. That becoming yourself is a lifelong act of courage.
Thank you for choosing me as your mother. Thank you for saving my life without ever being asked to. Thank you for being exactly who you are.
I am so proud of you. Always.
Love,
Mom
A Love Letter to Aaron
(Storge in motion—the quiet, steady love that protects, listens, and makes room)
Aaron,
I want you to know how deeply proud I am of you—not for who the world wants you to be, but for who you have chosen to be.
By the time you came into my life, I had built walls to protect myself. Grief, responsibility, and survival had taught me how to stay standing, but also how to stay guarded. I did not realize how much softness I had tucked away until you arrived and gently brought it back to the surface. Loving you reminded me how to be tender again. It showed me parts of myself I thought were gone.
You show up as yourself, fully and without apology. You do not allow people to label you or shrink you into something easier to understand. You stand firm in your boundaries, even when it would be simpler to stay quiet. That kind of self-respect takes courage, and you carry it with grace.
Your heart for your friends is something rare. You are loyal in a way that is steady and intentional. You protect the people you love—your sister, your family, your community—with a quiet strength that doesn’t need to be announced. You watch. You listen. You learn. And when you speak, your words carry weight because they are rooted in thought and care.
I see so much of my father in you. The way you move through the world with awareness, the way you listen beyond what is being said. Your spiritual ear is finely tuned. You notice what others miss.
I see you.
I hear you.
You have always been curious, especially in the kitchen. Watching you move through recipes, seek out new techniques, and trust your instincts as a chef is like watching your mind at work—creative, precise, and deeply thoughtful. The way you learn is beautiful. You don’t rush understanding; you let it unfold.
This past summer, you let people see you. You opened yourself up and allowed others in, and in doing so, you showcased all your talents—your leadership, your creativity, your warmth. The community you have built around yourself is a reflection of who you are. Watching it grow has been nothing short of extraordinary.
You have grown into a true gentleman. You make sure your friends are safe before you leave. You create space for them to be honest. You are a place of trust, of comfort, of belonging. You fill a gap that many grown men have not yet figured out how to hold—with empathy, accountability, and care.
I am so proud of the young man you are becoming. I am in awe of your being.
Love always,
Mom
*Original artwork created by Devin Chicras for the South Seattle Emerald.*
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond and recognizes the people among us who are boldly shaping the future.
“Care is love in action.”
— Odessa Brown
By Marcus Harden
What do you want to do when you grow up? We were all asked that question many times as kids. The answers usually range from athlete to musician, lawyer to businessperson, from teacher to, in this day and age, maybe a content creator.
Yet I’ve always believed the question was asked wrong. Asking “what” forces you into objectivity, into a job or a role or an identity that’s binary. The true question I’ve always tried to ask is who do you want to be when you grow up? The ultimate alchemy comes when what you do and who you “be” become one.
This is the alchemy at work in the world and life of Dr. Joshua Dawson. He serves as a living connection between the deep traditions of his Ethiopian heritage and his African American roots; he represents the history of sacrifice and, duly, the promise of possibility.
A proud product of Federal Way and the University of Washington (Go Huskies and GOMAB), Dr. Dawson’s charismatic humility, blended with an insatiable work ethic and the ability to honor those who’ve paved the path before him, allow him to serve as the living bridge for those who come after – and oftentimes walk beside him.
He stands as a role model (and fashion model) for the true multi-hyphenate that this generation represents. You can see him presenting at a medical conference, or see him walking the runway in NY Fashion Week and then immediately see him leading STEM-based mentoring programs right before engaging young people in healthy habits through basketball, redefining the moniker of doctor for a new generation of young people who see themselves through him.
One of the most powerful and purposeful things about Dr. Dawson is where he chooses to practice medicine: pediatrics. There is something transformative about a young person and a young family walking into a room and being met by a young African American and Ethiopian doctor. In that moment, the old truth becomes real: you can’t be what you can’t see. For everyone in that room, possibility has a face, a voice, and a future standing right in front of you.
And now, because of Dr. Dawson and people like him, a generation, no matter their color or creed (because young non-Black kids need to see Black doctors too!), can see what a doctor can be. In seeing him, they are given permission, both knowingly and unknowingly, to imagine themselves there too.
He gently shifts the question for all of us from “what do you want to do” to “who do you want to be.” A scientist. A healer. A human being whose presence alone expands what’s possible, reminding us that becoming has always mattered more than doing. Dr. Dawson brightens his community by letting all aspects of his light shine brightly, and as he joyfully illuminates the world around him, he is indeed Black History Today!
*Original artwork created by Devin Chicras for the South Seattle Emerald.*
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond and recognizes the people among us who are boldly shaping the future.
“For the growing good of the world is dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life.”
— George Eliot
By Marcus Harden
A lot of people have a lot to say about the notion of continuous improvement — commitments to growth, stacking days, and being better than the day you were before. But these are mantras many preach and few practice.
It’s hard. Life throws everything at you in such a way that we confuse safety with stillness and complacency with comfort, even though we all know there is no growth in comfort.
Najee Ladd-Ali is one of the few among us who truly lives a life of consistent wonder, of dynamic yet intentional exploration and lifelong learning. And of course, his commitment to better himself isn’t just to be better himself, but to better himself for the betterment of others.
The Ladd name is a bit of a legacy in the Northwest, carrying great expectation while also giving freedom to blaze a trail in a way that’s authentic to who you are and who you are becoming.
Najee embodies this fully.
Maybe you’ve interacted with him as “Mr. Ladd” in the education spaces he’s served, where he’s typically spending time with those who hadn’t been seen as worthy or had been given up on. Part of his magic as a teacher and being vulnerable to share with his students that he’s still learning and giving them permission to learn with him and yet do the same.
Or maybe you know him as “Coach Ladd,” exploring the boundaries of intellectual, physical and business discipline as the owner, creator and curator of Fly Above Athletics in Skyway, Wash. (in the GLORIOUS Souf End), where he specializes not just in building the body but in building community, from ages 9 to 99.
Or maybe you know him through his spiritual nature, through his disciplined devotion. He has an infectious way of bringing peace to others, and an ability to move through space and convey every movement in motion in a way that seems connected to the things beyond this existence.
Any man who in one moment can be found squatting and shoulder pressing a 100lb kettle ball and the next moment leading fellow active fathers in dynamic stretches for the Daddy Stroller Social Club, is a man who has his feet on the ground but his heart in every space.
Not all who wander are lost, and not all leadership is from the front. Every now and then there are sages who sit at the center of community and become our compass and guides because they exude the joy and wisdom we week. Their leadership whispers, and in this gentleness we are led by invitation and example. We are given the safety and freedom to lean in, and the courage to reach for more. Najee’s example asks us to join him in flying to the beat of our own wings, high above what others believe is possible, and this is why he is indeed Black History Today!
*Original artwork created by Devin Chicras for the South Seattle Emerald.*
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond and recognizes the people among us who are boldly shaping the future.
A Note from Marcus:
This year’s theme came to me while sitting among those being honored, surrounded by faces that reflected one of my favorite truths: “I am but a shallow reflection of the light that’s been shined into me.”
In the universe’s timing, the decision to center both youth and elders felt inevitable. I wanted to offer flowers, and a battery. To honor them, and to help sustain them.
I write this just days after another senseless shooting shook our community. A young man lost. A graduate of a program I helped build. A student at my alma mater. The grief ripples through people I know, people I love, and people I’ve never met but still carry.
Because of that, this work feels urgent.
My call to us is simple: speak life, love, and accountability into the highest version of our youth. Hold them to their best—and when they fall, meet them with love so their stumble is not fatal. Teach them to face struggle, anger, and rage by seeing the light in others, not dimming it.
Two lives were lost. Many more were fractured. Still, light always breaks through.
So we begin by honoring young people—the once and future kings and queens—making history today.
“There are some children who arrive carrying memory, as if the ancestors trusted them with something unfinished.”
By Baionne and Jaycee Coleman
Our beloved son,
Kadin Akai Idris Coleman
During Black History Month, people often ask what it means to honor history.
For us, the answer has always been you.
You entered this world early, at twenty-nine weeks, barely three pounds, small enough to rest in the palm of our hands. In the NICU, surrounded by machines built for urgency and fear, you were calm. You breathed on your own. You needed no surgeries. You needed nourishment, patience, and time. Babies larger than you, older than you, did not make it home. You did. Quietly. Intentionally. As if you already understood something about staying.
Every day, we read to you. Before you were born, we read medical journals out loud, what your body needed to weigh, when babies were considered viable, what had to be true for you to arrive safely. We did not speak fear over you. We spoke knowledge. And you listened. You were born at twenty-nine weeks, three pounds and one ounce, exactly where you needed to be.
You were released from the NICU six weeks early because you were thriving too loudly for their expectations. Millions of dollars in medical bills could not measure what it meant to watch you choose life with such ease.
You began reading before the age of two. Words were never decoration for you; they were tools. By three, you were using words like discrimination, not to impress, but because you already understood fairness and harm. Language became how you named the world and how you tried to heal it.
Your name knew this before any of us did.
Kadin—companion, confidant, spirit of battle.
Akai—warrior, protector, one who fights bravely and heals.
Idris—the studious one, the instructor, the keeper of the pen.
A warrior who listens.
A protector who heals.
A scholar who leads with wisdom.
You have always stood up for others, especially those who were marginalized or bullied, even while being bullied yourself for your depth, your maturity, your refusal to perform childhood the way others expected. When others wanted to fight, you wanted conversation. When others chose cruelty, you chose reason. When a biological father chose to abandon you, you chose love and forgiveness. That made growing up harder. It also made you who you are.
Your faith has always been deep and sincere. You loved God early, and because of that love, cruelty and racism never made sense to you. You could not reconcile them with what you knew to be true. That dissonance shaped you, not into bitterness, but into action. You fed the unhoused on weekends with your uncle. You led faith and race seminars for youth and adults. You wrote poetry and read it aloud at marches and protests. You facilitated conversations across difference with humility far beyond your years for esteemed authors such as Dr. Bettina Love and Dr. Gholdy Muhammad. You curated a community event bringing over 300 Global Majority people to the aquarium for free. You’ve done more before 18 than most accomplish in a lifetime.
Leadership keeps finding you, even though you never look for it.
You row varsity crew, often the only Black male in the boat. You advocate for the ocean and for young people through the Seattle Aquarium. Water has always been your refuge, swimming, fishing, rowing, returning again and again to what steadies you. You love marine life not as a hobby, but as relationship with your Creator.
An educator once wrote about you:
“Beyond his impressive résumé, I want to speak to Kadin’s integrity and emotional depth… Our community is better, safer, and more secure when Kadin is present. He leads not for recognition, but because he genuinely wants others to feel safe, seen, and supported.”
That is what others feel when you walk into a room. Children feel it. Adults feel it. Safety, humility, steadiness. You are an anchor without trying to be.
And this moment, this deep, unconditional love, has never been held by just one of us.
Your chosen father, Jaycee Coleman, sees you too. He once said:
“As you turn 18 I reflect on what it means to be a man, become an adult, or come of age. One thing was very clear from early on; you were an old soul. As the elders would say, ‘he’s been here before.’ You’re insightful, reflective, justice-oriented, faithful, forgiving, loyal, and protective over the ones you love. Navigating the complexities of being a Black man in America can be soul-shattering, but you’ve taken every challenge head on, grew from your missteps, didn’t let systems define you, and kept your joy through it all. You aren’t a success story in the making—you, Kadin, are its embodiment in the present. One of the greatest men I know. I know the future is in good hands.”
We want you to sit with that.
Not as pressure.
Not as expectation.
But as truth spoken by someone who loves you and has watched you grow into yourself with courage and grace.
You are graduating with a 3.8 GPA. You have earned merit scholarships. And still, gaps remain, not because you did not work hard enough, but because systems do not always reward brilliance and heart fairly. Know this: the presence of gaps does not diminish the truth of who you are or where you are headed.
You are a protector of your siblings, respectful to elders, quick to help, sometimes too quick. One of your great lessons right now is learning that help must be invited to be holy. Even this growth speaks to your tenderness.
You are humble—so humble that you do not yet see yourself as fully as the rest of us do.
That will come. Until then, let this stand in for sight:
You are brilliant.
You are beautiful.
You are deeply loved.
Black history did not end in the past. It continues in living, breathing, choosing. It continues in a boy born early who listened before he spoke. In a young man who fights for others without armor. In a scholar who carries a pen, a conscience, and a love for the ocean.
Wherever you go next—college, boats, classrooms, shorelines—carry this with you:
You do not owe the world perfection.
You do not owe history sacrifice.
You owe yourself honesty, joy, and rest.
We have always been proud of you.
Your Dad is proud of you.
You are surrounded by love that will never waver.
You were listening long before you were speaking, and the world has been catching up to you ever since.
We will always be your home.
With all our love,
Mom & Dad
*Original artwork created by Devin Chicras for the South Seattle Emerald.*
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond and recognizes the people among us who are boldly shaping the future.
“The privilege of a lifetime is being who you are.”
— Viola Davis
By Marcus Harden
Context matters.
And the one thing we all share is time.
In a moment when storytelling and storytellers, particularly journalists, are under attack by those who prefer tyranny over truth and harm over humanity, we need people courageous enough to tell the truth through story.
Not just headlines. Not just facts — which are hard enough to find these days — but stories that move hearts. The kind rooted in dignity, care, and love for community.
Traeanna Holiday is both truth-teller and storyteller.
A true 206 original, born from a bloodline of service, her father, Michael, and her mother, Tracie (Tracie Mae to her friends, lol), Traeanna has forged her own path as a voice for the seen and unseen, the heard and unheard. She doesn’t just report on community; she belongs to it.
Her vibrant light fills every room she enters. You feel it in the way she approaches every subject she covers, never extracting stories, but honoring them. Her work is dripping in humanity and grounded in love. Whether as an Emmy-winning journalist, producer, or filmmaker, she consistently shines a light on others while somehow remaining a light herself.
Yet perhaps her greatest gift isn’t only in telling stories, it’s in helping create them.
Her commitment to equity, racial equity, economic equity, housing equity, is not performative. She is not a voyeur of struggle; she is a cultivator of community. She shows up. She listens. She invests. And she moves with purpose.
I’ve had the privilege of knowing Traeanna since she was a teenager, and some of our most meaningful conversations haven’t been about careers or accolades, but about her deep love for community, and her even deeper love for family.
The light she amplifies in others through her work pales in comparison to the love she radiates as a daughter, a sister, and in her most beautiful story told yet, as a mother.
Many will debate where they stood when this chapter of history is retold. Some will hesitate. Some will doubt. But people like Traeanna don’t wait for history to define them.
She takes it into her own hands;
through her vision,
through her heart,
through her light,
and through her service to all.
And that, among many other words that still fall short, is why Traeanna Holiday is not just Black history remembered.
She is BLACK HISTORY TODAY.
*Original artwork created by Devin Chicras for the South Seattle Emerald.*
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond and recognizes the people among us who are boldly shaping the future.
“Purpose is an essential element of you. It is the reason you are on the planet at this particular time in history.”
— Chadwick Boseman
By Marcus Harden
Black History Today was never meant to be loud.
It was meant to be honest.
But honesty, in this moment, requires volume. (And occasionally a mic check.)
What began as a personal practice of writing to remember, writing to honor, writing to make sense of who we are and how we arrived here, has grown into something I could not have fully imagined.
Last year, Black History Today became an exhibit at the Northwest African American Museum. That milestone carries pride, yes, but it also carries weight. Because we are living in a time when Black contribution is not just misunderstood, but actively challenged. Sanitized. Minimized. Systemically erased.
There are days when that reality feels heavy. Days when the darkness feels intentional and hope feels fragile.
(And days when you ask yourself, “Is it just me, or…?”)
This year, clarity came for me thousands of miles from home.
Standing in Ghana at the Diaspora District Conference, I was surrounded by lineage made visible: elders, builders, culture keepers, and young people carrying the same questions we carry here, just spoken in different accents and rhythms. I felt the presence of those who came before us not as history, but as instruction.
It became impossible to ignore the truth: we are not disconnected chapters. We are part of a living, breathing continuum. What we carry was handed to us across oceans, across generations, across sacrifice.
That experience sharpened my understanding of purpose, and my responsibility to speak. Especially because standing in Seattle, or Atlanta, or D.C., or…wherever the flight lands, can sometimes feel exactly the same.
I’ll be honest: writing about young people has always been the hardest part for me. Not because I doubt them, but because I love them deeply. There is a sacred responsibility that comes with naming a generation inheriting both extraordinary brilliance and extraordinary resistance. For a long time, the fear — of getting it wrong, of not protecting them enough — kept me quieter than I wanted to be.
(Which, if you know me, is saying something.)
This year required courage.
Courage to insist that Black history is not optional, not negotiable, and not confined to the past.
Black History Today is not a response to erasure, it is a refusal of it. It is a declaration that when others attempt to dim the light, we become brighter. When stories are threatened, we tell them louder. When our presence is questioned, we live more boldly.
This work is not about lists or accolades. This is about lineage. About the baton being passed with intention. About elders who paved the road, steadying their hands as they place history into ours. And about us sprinting forward, eyes ahead, while they intentionally trail behind, making sure we don’t drop what they carried for so long.
Because the truth is this: we do not move alone. We are guided. We are watched over. We are accountable.
This year’s series introduces new features and a sharper focus, but the heart remains unchanged. We honor elders not as memory, but as living testimony. We uplift young people not as “next,” but as now. And we remind ourselves, and the world, that history is not something done to us.
We ourselves are the light. We create the hope.
And in times like these, we must be just as audacious in telling our stories as those who would try to erase them.
We make history, for every living spirit, by Black people, today and every day henceforth. Because we are the original A.I.
Awareness & Intention.
Awareness is remembering who you are
before the world tries to define you.
Intention is deciding, every day,
how you will move through it.
This is how history stays human.
This is how lineage becomes action.
This is why we have been, are, and will always be
BLACK HISTORY. TODAY.
Upendo,
MLH
*Original artwork created by Devin Chicras for the South Seattle Emerald.*
RISE UP!
ICE only continues to escalate. The time is NOW to prepare and organize. Connect with the people and organizations in your area who are already doing the work. Check on your friends and neighbors. Get a whistle. Download the Signal app. Be as ready as you can be!
As you make more tangible preparations, please don’t forget to also prepare yourself mentally. Get yer mind right and whatnot. Picture what is to come. Imagine yourself acting bravely. Be ready for that unexpected moment when you find yourself in the thick of it.
It’s like they teach us on the baseball diamond — know what you’re going to do with the ball before it’s hit to you.
Get used to the idea that this is real. Remember that it is love that moves us to take action.
But whatever we feel, it’s hard to know what to actually do. Here are some starting points and resources. Feel free to let me know what I’m missing.
Sanctuary SchoolsIf you are a parent (or if you are looking for a good starting point to get involved in a meaningful way) consider joining or starting a Sanctuary School team at your neighborhood school. This idea has been developed and is being practiced in Chicago and Minneapolis. It is needed now in your community.
Keeping watch over our children is a good place to start, and the Sanctuary School teams also serve as an entryway into hyper-local mutual aid.
Here is a Minneapolis-specific Guide to Starting a Sanctuary School Team. This wisdom and the clear to-do lists apply to your neighborhood, too.
Here is a School Patrols Guide for getting started.
Here are more related Mpls Sanctuary School Resources.
Washington Immigrant Solidarity Network (WAISN)Join WAISN’s Rapid Response Network! Seriously, if you’re in Washington, do it. (If you’re not in Washington, someone in your neck of the woods is doing this work. Find them! Help them!)
You’ll start by attending a rapid response training — the next one is online on Feb. 6. Register here.
WAISN also runs a Deportation Defense Line to report ICE sightings at 844.724.3737.
Donate to WAISN's Fair Fight Bond Fund here.
Courtesy of. WA Whistles
Get a WhistlePeople nationwide are using whistles in a coordinated way to communicate in real-time about ICE in the streets.
Get one. Maybe donate some too.
In Seattle / Washington State, check out https://linktr.ee/wa.whistles for more.
Lots more info and resources related to WA Whistles here.
If you have a Ring camera, take it down and deactivate your service.Ring, owned by Amazon, has a formal partnership with Flock Safety, a private surveillance company that works with law enforcement — including ICE. Reports have shown that ICE, Homeland Security Investigations and the US Secret Service all now have and use data accessible through Flock thanks to inter-agency data sharing.
I know this is annoying, but you should do it before ICE uses your home surveillance footage to steal away one of your neighbors instead of after.
As detailed by TechCrunch and San News, among many others.
DOPASome families are deciding to fill out Delegation of Parental Authority (DOPA) forms in case of arrest, kidnap, deportation or disapperance.
What’s a DOPA? “This document allows you to name a temporary guardian for your child. This gives the person(s) you have named the authority to make decisions (including medical decisions) for your child for a period of up to one (1) year.”
(This is not legal advice, I’m not an attorney, I’m not liable, etc. I’m just sharing resources that have been shared with me.)
Stand in Solidarity with Minnesota - Give What You CanGood luck out there.I’ll update this as I’m able!
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in celebration of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond and recognizes the people among us who are boldly shaping the future.
Courtesty of Damien Wilkins
“I know where I’m going and I know the truth, and I don’t have to be what you want me to be. I’m free to be what I want.”
— Muhammad Ali
By Marcus Harden
Famous rock and roll band Motörhead once crooned, “Evolution is a mystery, full of change that no one sees, clock makes a fool of history.”
Evolution—change—is inevitable. Father Time, as they say, remains undefeated. Yet, it is not simply change that defines us; it is what we do with our evolution that truly matters.
Did we evolve ourselves?
Did we elevate others?
And, in the end, did our evolution create lasting change?
Damien (middle name A, not really, but IYKYK) Wilkins is the embodiment of evolution with a purpose. His story is not simply one of legacy, but of transformation—the tale of a man who took the weight of expectation and turned it into wings.
Born into a family steeped in greatness, with a powerful mother who nurtured him in love and a father and uncle whose names were etched into the annals of basketball history, Damien understood early that legacy is not about living in someone’s shadow, but expanding it. For him, expectation was not a burden—it was a catalyst.
Basketball became a bridge between father and son, a connection forged through dedication and perseverance. By 1999, Damien was named National High School Player of the Year, earning a scholarship to North Carolina State before transferring to the University of Georgia. And though the path to professional basketball was not straightforward, his resilience never wavered. Undrafted but undeterred, he earned a spot on the Seattle SuperSonics, proving—through sheer will and work ethic—that he belonged among the best. For 13 years, he thrived in the NBA, a testament to his relentless drive.
For many, this would have been the pinnacle. The culmination. The defining chapter.
But for Damien Wilkins, it was only the beginning.
His true Hall of Fame career began after the final buzzer.
His evolution as a Black man has been nothing short of inspiring—embracing spirituality, wellness, and mental health advocacy, particularly for Black men who are so often told to suffer in silence. He has used his voice, his platform, and his experiences to uplift and empower, ensuring that the next generation understands that strength is not in suppression but in healing.
His evolution as a mentor has been equally profound. Damien has dedicated himself to guiding young athletes—not just in their craft but in their character. He teaches them to honor their talents, refine their purpose, and maximize their impact—on and off the court. For “his guys,” he is more than a mentor; he is a consistent presence, a steady hand, and a trusted guide.
But perhaps the most beautiful of Damien’s evolutions has been his evolution as a father. To hear him speak about his children—to see the way his face illuminates at the mere mention of them—is to witness the purest form of love. His commitment to fatherhood, his dedication to reshaping the narrative of Black fathers, is nothing short of revolutionary. If there were an MVP for fathers, Damien Wilkins would win in a landslide.
I often say this, and I mean it with every fiber of my being: the world needs more people like Damien Wilkins.
He is evolution.
He is change.
He is selfless leadership.
He is one of the best men I have ever had the privilege to know.
And without question—he is Black History Today.
*Original artwork created by Devin Chicras for the South Seattle Emerald.*
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond and recognizes the people among us who are boldly shaping the future.
Coach Robert Delgardo
“There is always light if only we’re brave enough to see it. If only we’re brave enough to be it.”
— Amanda Gorman
By Marcus Harden
Some words that I once cherished—words I held tightly, believing in their weight and meaning—have begun to take on a different meaning for me. I have found that as I grow, I gently unravel them from my vernacular. Not because they are “bad,” but because they are rooted in a culture of dominance rather than a culture of service.
One such word is legacy. Webster defines it as “the long-lasting impact of particular events, actions, etc., that took place in the past, or of a person’s life.” It is, without question, a powerful word.
But I have come to believe that legacy is not something that exists solely in the past—it is not a word of reflection but of action. Legacy is the light someone brings into a room through their spirit, as well as the light that remains when they leave it. It is the energy they pour into the world through their words. It is the faith, the hope, and the love they leave behind in the wake of their deeds.
And when I think of someone who embodies a Living Legacy, no name shines brighter than Robert Delgardo.
For nearly three decades, Coach Delgardo and his extraordinary wife, Tracey, have been pillars of service—both seen and unseen—in Southeast Seattle. Coach Delgardo, as I have always called him, is more than just a coach. He has given his heart, time, and wisdom to generations of young men at the storied Rainier Beach High School, shaping not just athletes but leaders, scholars, and men of character.
Of course, his impact does not stop at the sidelines. He has opened his home, wallet, and soul to the community, standing in the gap for those in need while raising his incredible children—never once missing a beat.
But what makes his living legacy so profound is not just the heart work—it is also the mind work. Coach Delgardo has been a driving force behind community empowerment, tirelessly fighting against gentrification, advocating for equitable development, and leading organizations such as M.A.R.S. (Math, Art, Reading, and Science) Early Learning Academy, The Black Pioneers, and the Rainier Beach Resource Center. He serves without seeking recognition, continually shifting the spotlight toward the causes and people he loves.
Perhaps the most profound testament to his character came in 2004 when he was stabbed by a young man he had tried to mentor and guide. As he lay in the hospital, surrounded by worried family and friends, Coach Delgardo did something remarkable—he prayed for the young man who had harmed him. He prayed for his healing, for his redemption, and his family. In that moment, he lived out the words of Bryant H. McGill, who said, “There is no love without forgiveness, and there is no forgiveness without love.”
This is who Coach Delgardo is. A man of unwavering faith, boundless love, and relentless service. His ripples of impact stretch far beyond this city, and the lives he has touched will carry his light forward for generations to come.
Too often, we wait too long to give our pioneers their flowers. Coach Delgardo deserves not just a bouquet, but entire gardens in full bloom.
He is a community beacon.
He is a legacy in motion.
And beyond a shadow of a doubt—he is Black History Today.
*Original artwork created by Devin Chicras for the South Seattle Emerald.*
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond and recognizes the people among us who are boldly shaping the future.
“The question is not whether we will be extremists but what kind of extremists we will be. Will we be extremists for hate, or will we be extremists for love? Will we be extremists for the preservation of injustice, or will we be extremists for the cause of justice?”
— Martin Luther King, Jr.
By Marcus Harden
Years ago, when I started this, the idea of writing about and celebrating ordinary people doing extraordinary things might have been seen as an act of rebellion—perhaps even extremism. Yet, here we are in 2025, still lifting voices, still honoring the brilliance that shapes our world.
I would never call this work a “labor of love” because that phrase feels too small. This is joy in motion. This is pride overflowing. Every tribute, every name, every story holds a power that words alone could never fully capture.
And yet, in this time and space—much like Dr. King—I find myself at a crossroads, searching for hope, searching for light. I may not be writing this from a Birmingham jail, but across this nation, too many are trapped in what feels like an inescapable loop—an exhausting cycle of racism, gaslighting, and hate-filled madness. A multiverse where justice feels just out of reach, and no Black Panther or Doctor Strange is in sight. Honestly, at this point, I’d even take Meteor Man!
But what is fear without faith? What is doubt without the counterweight of hope? If history has taught us anything, it is that we must keep telling our stories—especially when others try to erase them.
Because if not us, then who? If not now, then when?
As Dr. King reminded us, “We know through painful experience that freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded…”
So with every name we celebrate, we demand joy. With every story we share, we demand hope. With every truth we tell, we demand courage. With every connection we nurture, we demand love.
And most importantly, we demand each other—to keep making Black History Today. And tomorrow, too.
With Extreme Love,
– MLH
*Original artwork created by Devin Chicras for the South Seattle Emerald.*
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond and recognizes the people among us who are boldly shaping the future.
“The greatest mistake of the movement has been trying to organize a sleeping people around specific goals. You have to wake the people up first, then you’ll get action.”
— Malcolm X
By Marcus Harden
A simple, profound parable tells us that when the student is ready, the teacher will appear. Of course, the teachers among us quickly realize after we’ve “appeared” in a student’s life that these relationships are not entirely what we’d expected. Believing at first that it is you who will be doing the teaching, developing and mentoring, the truth is always a bit different, and those lines become so blurred that you wake up one morning and realize it was you who received so much more than you’ve ever given.
I have had the privilege of knowing Deionte Petty since he was four or five years old (time flies, indeed), and even as a little boy, his zeal for life and excitement for helping others were evident. Every one of us who has been blessed enough to speak into his life and share in his space – as he’s grown from an imaginative and patient boy, into a well-rounded, community-building man – has experienced the phenomenon of learning much from someone we expected to teach.
Born in Seattle to a caring mother and carrying Northwest pedigree in his last name, Deionte spent many days soaking up knowledge and being around young adults who were still finding themselves on this journey called life. He was always beyond his years – young enough to be treated like a child yet wise enough to know when to just be around to listen – and those gifts have traveled with him into adulthood.
As Deionte grew into his own through adolescence, his natural gifts and curiosity started coming to the forefront. A talented athlete, he is also a thoughtful musician, artist and composer, and like many of our greatest leaders, though he could walk into many places and be lauded for his accomplishments, his effervescent humility would always shine through.
As Deionte grew, and as his knowledge of the world around him grew, he became more and more the mentor figure he’d often sought, attending Seattle University and obtaining his BA in Strategic Communication (no irony there). Deionte would soon find himself melding his gifts and his passions into his greatest cause: service.
Whether serving as a music composer, engineer, producer or artist, whether being a recreational leader at local community centers, or whether leading through curiosity and faith, Deionte grew to become a man who would skillfully spend his time ensuring that success wasn’t his alone, but that his glory belonged to the community.
His latest and greatest contribution is in his leadership around stewardship and entrepreneurship for the Black community with the Seattle Urban League. As the director of entrepreneurship, Deionte recently played a lead role in the launch of the Entrepreneurship Center & Cultural Office, which provides programs and services for small businesses in Seattle to flourish and thrive.
Life always spins full circle. Now, the same boy who many watched grow would tell you his proudest moments are the ones he spends with his own family and his own children. You would witness him cherish the moments when he can pass on his hunger, humility and honor to the next generation, to both his biological family and to the larger community he serves with constant purpose.
Deionte is now the teacher – maybe he always was – and the community in which he dutifully serves is his classroom. His greatest lessons are in how he lives his life – through light, faith, music, thought-leadership and family. He has grown into an incredible man that the community should be proud of, and for what is now and for what is to come, he is, indeed, Black History Today!
*Original artwork created by Devin Chicras for the South Seattle Emerald.*
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond and recognizes the people among us who are boldly shaping the future.
“I’d rather lose everything and have my freedom than be caged with millions.”
— Rashiid Coleman
By Marcus Harden
I believe greatly in hard work – in a work ethic that turns the good to great, the great to greater and greater into the greatest. But as hard work paves the way to accomplishment, that foundation of effort and sacrifice can become hidden, masked by the grace and skill that come along with a hard-earned talent.
Of course, every now and then we come across people who seem to transcend this idea. Their skills seem too wide-ranging to have been born from hard work, and their list of accomplishments seems too long for a mere mortal. Everything they do seems to come effortlessly. In sports, they’re often referred to as gifted, or as naturals, and as we know, the truly gifted naturals take that effortless talent, blend it with work ethic and produce a profound impact on the world.
Meet Rashiid Coleman. If success is a consistent compilation of notable achievements, then it’s hard to read a list of the benchmarks in his life and see him as anything but incredibly successful.
- Award-winning education
- Co-founder of Black male educational organization
- Renowned photographer
- Edu-tainment event-planner, executive producer and director
- Co-founder of a second Black male educational organization (incubation)
-
Curator of Somebody’s Son LLC and Podcast
If I told you the majority of this was done before Rashiid had turned 30, you’d ask, “When did this person ever sleep?” Yet to know “Shiid” is to truly know that when talent is given to those with deep passion and pure hearts, anything is possible.
Rashiid’s origins fuel his drive and make him who he is. A proud native of Philadelphia, the ethos of the city lives in his soul. And as a proud and reflective brother and son, Rashiid brings the familial essence to all he does and most importantly to who he is. This inescapable connection to home and family is at the core of the Shiid brand.
As an educator, Rashiid became a beacon for all students, but he has especially been a light in a sometimes very dark room for Black and brown males who so desperately need to see someone they could imagine themselves becoming. Based on his own many experiences as “the only lonely,” Rashiid partnered with a best friend turned brother, Vince Cobb, to create the BMEC Fellowship, a space for Black males to not only convene but to grow their practice. Shiid & Vince, never being ones to not value the culture, helped turn education for Black males into something that not only felt doable, but relevant and for the culture.
Through some pivots, Rashiid’s talents shifted gears as he went beyond just recognizing the need for more Black men in the classroom. This is where Summerhouse Institute was born, and where Rashiid began cultivating the next generation of Black male educators in earnest.
In circling back to the idea of success as a consistent compilation of notable achievements, Summer House Institute has produced a national network and convening of thousands of Black Male Educators, creating space for both professional learning and for social-emotional healing. The institute has also produced more than 45 alumni of its Black Male Educator Incubator program, feeding like a pipeline into our nation’s schools.
Rashiid’s impact on the profession is undeniable. One could argue that his gifts as a visionary leader who can execute are his most natural, but those thoughts would be challenged once you see him do the thing he is truly most gifted at…being a father. To meet Rashiid, to spend more than a few seconds with him, you know without a shadow of a doubt that his “why” is embedded in his family (with that Philly love for his brothers and friends finishing a close third) – and more specifically, his children.
Rashiid uses his gift for photography, along with the gift of emotional vulnerability, to document the good and the challenges of being a Black male father. And it is truly inspiring. The adoration he has for his children – for who they are now as well as who they are becoming – is a window into what true unconditional love looks like. It could be a master’s course for parenting in the 21st century.
While many could list Rashiid’s achievements and know he has found success, Rashiid would tell you none of it matters if his children and family don’t experience it as well. His talents become true gifts because of his commitment to bringing out the best out in others. Because of his ability to lead by vision and not by sight, to shine a light in dark spaces, and to embrace his vulnerability as a Black male in a world that still asks for that part of us to shrink, Rashiid Coleman is indeed Black History Today!
*Original artwork created by Devin Chicras for the South Seattle Emerald.*
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond and recognizes the people among us who are boldly shaping the future.
“You don’t make progress by standing on the sidelines, whimpering and complaining. You make progress by implementing ideas.”
— Shirley Chisholm
By Marcus Harden
While Black History Today is not “thematic” (beyond the obvious), one thing that tends to run true about history-makers and agents of change is their ability to not only survive, but to thrive; to not only grow, but to help others grow as well; to not only evolve, but to be the spark for continual evolution.
If part of the theme is indeed evolution, no one personifies it more than Mayor Shirley Franklin.
A true legend, pioneer and icon in Atlanta, Mayor Shirley Franklin was born in the city of Brotherly Love. After spending her formative years in Philly, she went on to THE Howard University, where she would study psychology, anthropology and African-American studies. To further her educational endeavors, she would later return to Philly to earn her Masters in Sociology from The University of Pennsylvania.
It’s of no surprise that education and social engineering would become true hallmarks of not only her career but of her life. In the early 1970s, after a brief stop as a professor in Talledega, Ala., Mayor Franklin was inspired by her studies, lived experiences and the passion of knowing throughout history that young people and youth movements have prompted radical change. She helped spark what would become a monumental shift in United States history, as along with Mayor Maynard Jackson and Mayor Andrew Young, for the next nearly five decades, Mayor Franklin found herself woven into the tapestry of what would not only make Atlanta the Black Mecca, but a destination location for community, commerce and people around the globe.
Mayor Franklin’s list of contributions and accomplishments are long, from supporting the infrastructure of the Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport, to bringing the 1996 Olympics to Atlanta, to The Atlanta Beltline, to ethics reform, to leading the way for Atlanta to become one of the most eco-friendly cities in the south, to restructuring and designing Atlanta’s sewer systems. And, of course, the accomplishment that helped shepherd all of those changes was Shirley becoming the first Black female mayor of not only Atlanta, but of any major southern U.S. city.
Mayor Franklin has been written about and covered ad nauseum for her impact and ability to lead positive change, yet what makes her truly special is her ability to never lose the common touch. While the late great Muhammed Ali coined it, and people like Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson have since used it, Mayor Franklin embodies what it means to be “the people’s champion.”
While many would rest on their laurels with all she has accomplished, Mayor Franklin does not. You will find her organizing career panels with local high schools, at community gatherings lending her name and bringing awareness to purpose-filled causes, all while engaging with her sharp mind and even sharper wit. Her humility and continued passion in pursuit of what’s possible for people is inspiring.
A story to illustrate her humility: Mayor Franklin was emailed by a young man seeking career advice. While she could have forwarded it or ignored it, she went out of her way to not only respond with thoughts and suggestions, but to offer time (in her still very busy schedule) to sit down, have breakfast and brainstorm opportunities and connections. Picture it – Atlanta 2023, Mayor Franklin in a coffee shop, laptop open, taking the time to share her wisdom and resources with a person she barely knows, while concurrently lending hope and promise with that wisdom (and wit) to hold on and continue to fight.
I am sure there are countless more stories like that, because I know that Mayor Franklin has been the wind beneath more wings than just my own (and yes, that “young” man was me, and my heart and spirit needed those few hours more than she ever could know). And of course it is her family, those closest to her heart, that bring out her greatest joy, whether that be time spent with her children or documenting the privilege and joys of being a grandmother.
Mayor Franklin continues to be the active architect of a life that has changed the trajectory of history, and in so doing has been a true model of servant leadership. She is a visionary, she is a revolutionary, she is a change-maker, she is a mother, she is a truth-teller, she is a mentor, she is the epitome of wise counsel, and undoubtedly, she is Black History Today!
*Original artwork created by Devin Chicras for the South Seattle Emerald.*
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond and recognizes the people among us who are boldly shaping the future.
“In a game full of liars it turns out that I’m the truth. Some say that rap’s alive. It turns out that I’m the proof.”
— J. Cole
By Marcus Harden
One of the greatest honors in life is to truly watch another person grow. Oftentimes in life we celebrate time passing, people chronologically aging, yet growing – growth itself – is such a beautiful thing, because for all of us it can happen multiple times in our life span. And hopefully, if done right, our growth can inspire others’ growth.
I had the privilege and pleasure of watching De’Antre “Frenchy” Frazier grow since before he took his first breath in the world. In the Black community, we know we have family by blood or by bond. Tre (as I know him) was family by bond, but I’m not sure blood could have made us closer. His family has been my family for all of my working memory.
Born in Seattle, raised in the Bayou, Tre grew, yet never lost the common touch – and he never lost touch with who he was or aspired to be. His energy is truly infectious, and he had the gift of transforming spaces. Like an alchemist wherever he’s at, his laugh will force you to laugh, his heart will help open yours, his voice will help you find your own.
Watching Tre grow from an energetic young child, with his raspy voice and a mischievous-but-knowing smile on his face, into the man he became, is truly one of the greatest joys of my life. Many knew him as “Frenchy” because of his formative years in Louisiana, a place that culturally helped cultivate his charm and his open heart, his willingness to be in space with, teach with and learn from anyone. The notion of giving somebody the shirt off your back is the way that Tre always chose to live.
As he grew into a young man, he found one of his many loves – music. Always an alchemist, his music would jump off the page when combined with his charisma and lyrical genius. This passion, blended with his love for fast cars, mirrors the way Tre lived life. Music and cars, though, could never outpace the greatest loves in Tre’s life – his family. His mother, his “Nami,” his older sister, his brother, and his children, the loves of his life. Tre’s artistic talents and zeal for life pale in comparison to the love he exuded as a father.
One of the greatest gifts one can ever possess is the ability to transform space, for your presence to truly be the gift that others need (even when they don’t know it). Tre’s growth is akin to the beautiful garden of the soul. Greater than any suffering is always the great joy he brings.
His garden, the ecosystem he created, continues to grow. And much like a garden, the seeds he’s planted will live and grow forever – in his friends, in his families and in all the lives he’s continued to touch.
The Bible says, “We are confident, I say, and willing rather to be absent from the body, and to be present with the Lord.” While absent from the body, Tre’s impact, his growth in all of our lives, will never cease. For his growth, for his music, for his spirit and for his passion, Tre is and always will be, Black History Today!
*Original artwork created by Devin Chicras for the South Seattle Emerald.*
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond and recognizes the people among us who are boldly shaping the future.
“Strumming my pain with his fingers
Singing my life with his words
Killing me softly with his song
Killing me softly with his song
Telling my whole life with his words
Killing me softly with his song ”
— Roberta Flack, “Killing Me Softly"
By Marcus Harden
Music is one of the few sensations that activates nearly 100% of the brain. It is oftentimes the soundtrack to our lives, and we remember the songs that have accompanied seminal and defining moments to us – times of triumph and times of trials, celebrating birthdays and weddings, gathering together for funerals, and even buckled in on those fantastic road trips and family vacations.
Pair music with a songstress who knows both triumph and trials, an artist not only on the stage but in creating and defining her life, and you get Josephine Howell. Born in the 2nd city – Chicago! – this songbird has been wowing people with her gifts since a young age. She is a true “throwback” to the era of well-rounded entertainers, and whether singing, dancing or acting, her presence on the stage and in any room is captivating.
Josephine radiates the essence of whatever piece of art she touches. Her voice allows you to ride every thought, emotion and melody as she tells a story using her God-given instrument to not only tell the story, but to give her audiences a chance to feel the story. Yet, Josephine the artist pales in comparison to “Josie,” the woman.
As a mother, grandmother, sister, aunt and friend, Josie has used her art and artistry as her anchor and her compass to weave the tapestry of her life, and she has found a way to transform her greatest hardships into her greatest achievements. Whether being a wonderful mother to 13 children, winning a lengthy battle against COVID, or fighting any of the quiet demons we all face, Josie finds a way to not only transform her test into beautiful testimony, but to then infuse her art with the pain and joy and lessons of her journey, allowing her to share it all with the rest of the world.
To watch her on stages across the country is one thing, but to sit across from her at the family dinner table as she truly opens her heart to any and everyone – as she personifies grace, humility and wisdom – you realize that the gift of loving connection may be her greatest gift of all. While not necessarily unsung or unheralded, she is definitely unrecognized as a true local treasure in her adopted home of the Emerald City, Seattle.
St. Augustine once famously quipped, “He who sings, prays twice.” If that is indeed true, than Jospehine Howell not only prays twice, but her heavenly melodies go straight to God’s ears as a blessing to all of us. Josephine Howell is a songstress and a true artist, and she is proof that prayer, perseverance and love do endure and win. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, Josephine Howell is Black History Today!
*Original artwork created by Devin Chicras for the South Seattle Emerald.*
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond and recognizes the people among us who are boldly shaping the future.
DeRay Mckesson (right) poses with Matt Halvorson (left) and Lindsay Hill and their kids in Ferguson, Mo., in August 2015. Zeke really loved chewing on that phone…
“If one really wishes to know how justice is administered in a country, one does not question the policemen, the lawyers, the judges, or the protected members of the middle class. One goes to the unprotected — those, precisely, who need the law’s protection most! — and listens to their testimony.”
— James Baldwin, "No Name on the Street"
By Marcus Harden
Rarely do we get to choose our purpose. More often it seems the purpose chooses us – or perhaps the purpose is offered to us like an open doorway, and we are asked simply to step into it, to carry it forward.
Many times these pathways to purpose are illuminated in moments of need, and the people who heed the call tend to come from the most unsuspecting places. Yet, if we knew where and how to look, we would see that these people have been cosmically preparing for the moment, so that when called, they are ready not just to answer, but to leave their imprint on history.
DeRay Mckesson is one who has not only answered the call, but has helped reshape what the conversation is all about. Well-known nationally for his leadership in the Black Lives Matter Movement, his podcast (Pod Save the People), his book (“On the Other Side of Freedom”), and his Twitter account and his infamous Blue Vest, DeRay was already working passionately within the education space when the doorway to his deeper purpose opened in front of him.
Proudly representing Baltimore, DeRay has found himself as a learner, teacher and leader since his teens. After graduating from Bowdoin College and spending time as a classroom teacher through Teach For America, DeRay was working as the senior director of human capital for Minneapolis Public Schools in 2014 when Michael Brown was murdered by police in Ferguson, Mo.
DeRay drove down to Ferguson that August, and soon he began spending more and more of his time there, diving headlong through that doorway to purpose that had opened before him. By the next spring, he was living in the St. Louis area full-time, having quit his job in Minneapolis. In April 2015, he founded “Mapping Police Violence” along with Johnetta Elzie, Brittany Packnett and Samuel Sinyangwe, and in August the same group launched Campaign Zero.
By the end of 2015, just a year and change after his first drive down to Ferguson, DeRay and Netta had received the Howard Zinn Freedom to Write Award for their activism.
In a time of division, many leaders become cynics, pushers of propaganda and pain. It becomes the norm as the polarization of our issues divides across lines that are more imaginary than authentic. To see those like DeRay who walk the fine line between radical accountability and radical love is an inspiration to ourselves love and act with greater strength and depth.
While many want fame, men like DeRay seek to be effective – effective while in the streets campaigning for social equity, in the boardrooms and policy-making offices pushing for long-standing change, and alone for late nights reviewing policing contracts to ensure that we are truly being protected and served.
When the momentum slowed in Ferguson, DeRay didn’t just stop and congratulate himself for a job well done. He pressed on harder than ever. He was invited to meet with President Obama. He ran for mayor of Baltimore. He wrote a book and started a podcast. He continues to be a presence nationally at the center of the conversation around systemic racism and police violence, both in person and in the media.
To know DeRay is to understand that his heart for people and service isn’t for the cameras. You can hear it and see it in his conversations and posts about his days as an elementary school teacher, when he speaks glowingly about the power of education and the dedication of educators. It's apparent in the pride he has in so many of his former students, whether sharing their accolades as adults, sharing an insight into the mentoring connections he’s built or just holding space for them now – in the same way he once did in the classroom.
You experience it when he joyfully shares the creative works of his friends and colleagues, utilizing his platform to magnify the many great people and things in the world. DeRay is the definition of a champion for anything he gets behind.
While we tend to romanticize the fight for justice, we all know that true change happens step by step, day by day and piece by piece. DeRay embodies that daily fight for justice, through his everyday thoughts and actions, seen and unseen. If justice is truly about balance, then he tips the scales to create a better world for all of us.
As a person I’d now consider a friend, DeRay continues to inspire on his personal journey, regularly going to great lengths to value and celebrate friends and loved ones. DeRay’s life is a beacon of what it means to truly live authentically and honestly as a Black male who holds multiple identities, truths and convictions – all while always service as a voice for the voiceless. From the streets of Fergurson, to the steps of the White House, to deciding that he’s going to be a Black man who learns how to swim, his showcasing of freedom is as fierce as his fight for freedom.
DeRay Mckesson is more than just a champion, more than just an advocate. DeRay is a genuine curator of love, hope and possibility. He is Black History Today!
*Original artwork created by Devin Chicras for the South Seattle Emerald.*
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond and recognizes the people among us who are boldly shaping the future.
“In recognizing the humanity of our fellow beings, we pay ourselves the highest tribute.”
— Thurgood Marshall
By Marcus Harden
Thurgood Marshall’s words embody what Black History Today has always been about: a tribute to the people making history in our midst. As they receive their well-earned flowers, we all benefit from celebraing their love, their light, and their courageous leadership. In expressing gratitude for their gifts, we receive the gift of their inspiration yet again.
I’ve long believed in the power of gratitude and acknowledgement. My love languages center around acts of service and words of affirmation, and since the first installment of the Black History Today series on Rise Up for Students in 2018, this platform has often spoken the sentiments of my heart. These moments of clearly expressed gratitude and honor are often fleeting, and they are typically reserved for monumental occasions like birthdays, weddings and, too often, funerals.
Yet we all know that life happens constantly – in those big moments, yes, but even more so in the unseen in-between. It brings me great joy to share the unheard and often unrecognized contributions of ordinary people continually living extraordinary lives in service to others, cultivating an ecosystem of history-makers with stories that I am so honored to be able to tell.
As a man who’s been blessed to have his “gift” be to collect amazing people in his own sphere, it’s my paramount duty to showcase the beauty of the garden of greatness that I’ve been so fortunate to witness grow. So it is with this in mind that I present to you the 2024 installment of Black History Today: a new essay every day that lifts up and glorifies the everyday heroes and unforgettable leaders among us.
This year’s series will feature social justice change-makers, educational icons laying their own green print, political legends who’ve shaped an entire generation, a soul songstress whose voice is the rhythm to people’s souls, and a power couple that has turned marriage being hard into marriage being worthy.
In these “surprise odes” to their greatness and impact on my life and the entire Black/African-American ecosystem, I hope the words do justice to the historical lives they’ve lived and the legacies they’re currently building. As the iconic Chadwick Boseman once said when honoring the equally iconic Denzel Washington, “Let he who waters, be watered.”
What a beautiful garden their humanity has built. Please join me in celebrating our collective bountiful harvest as we once again celebrate those making Black History… Today!
-Upendo!
MLH
*Original artwork created by Devin Chicras for the South Seattle Emerald.*
Photo courtesty of Right Livelihood
Freda Huson, Chief Howilhkat of the Wet'suwet'en First Nation in Canada, is an Indigenous rights activist for the Wet'suwet'en people. She is wing-chief of the Wet'suwet'en's Dark House Clan. Huson established the Uni'stot'en healing camp on the land that became the federally recognized territory of the Wet'suwet'en Nation, and she is a leader in the global opposition against colonialism and extractive capitalism.
Even as private companies and the Canadian government collude to force the construction of an oil pipeline through their sovereign territory and under their waterways, Freda was kind enough to engage in a brief conversation about the struggle she is currently leading with her people to protect their ancestral homelands and their way of life, and how it connects to the inequity we face in our own neck of the woods.
Matt Halvorson: How does your struggle to protect yourselves and your ancestral homelands from colonial violence impact students and families in Washington State?
Freda Huson: Well, everybody around the planet, we are all impacted because we are connected by water, air and land destruction. We all need water, we all need the air, and when things are destroyed in different parts of the Earth, it impacts us all because pollution goes into the air and the air is everywhere.
Matt: We get a lot of talk in Seattle about “decolonizing education,” but I don’t know how many of us understand or are directly involved in the work of decolonizing the world — of standing up against this ongoing violence. What does that idea mean to you?
Freda: Decolonizing, from my understanding, to decolonize is for people to re-look at their lives and see how we are following the world standards, which is very colonized. To decolonize we have to do our part in every area, like we are reusing and recycling, not the throwaway culture. Not using all the cheap stuff in the consumerist world, they just break. People need to educate themselves and step back from being a consumer because that’s what is destroying the planet. Use public transportation instead of everyone driving to work and school, carpool, less pollution from your mode of transportation.
The way we are being impacted by industry is by over-logging and the proposed pipeline under the river. When the engineer tested the pipes, they cracked, so they had to put cement casing around them. So even this project coming through the land isn’t safe — their head engineers quit.
So, people need to do their research about all these various industries that are going through your land and what the impacts are, and see what we can do to stop these projects and find things that are safe and find alternate resources that don’t harm the environment. There are many options out there, they just don’t want to go with those. They want the cheapest options that destroy the land. It’s costing the powers that be more overall, though, like in areas where people’s health is impacted because these projects make people sick.
Dr. Karla Tait, Director of Clinical Programming at the Unist’ot’en Healing Centre on the “frontlines” of the Wet’suwet’en lands, took the time to write a letter to students and families in Washington discussing how their struggle connects to our lives and the lives of all people.
By Dr. Karla Tait, Director of Clinical Programming at the Unist’ot’en Healing Centre on the “frontlines” of the Wet’suwet’en lands:
We are a living example of indigenous peoples who are exercising self-determination and our own pre-colonial governance to occupy and protect our territories and waterways for both their right to exist, and to support all life forms dependent on them.
We are upholding this responsibility through the operation of a healing village on our yintah that will heal our people from the impacts of ongoing and intergenerational trauma, by allowing us to reconnect with our land and the cultural practices that flow from it.
In turn, healing our people and strengthening the bond to our territories will allow more of us to uphold our responsibilities to decent and protect the land for future generations. We hope our struggle, despite odds and regardless of outcome, will help to inspire people to learn more about localized land defense and/or indigenous struggles and become active allies, contributing in tangible ways by sharing resources and power to help our cause.
No one is too small or insignificant to make a difference at this critical time of climate change. The industry projects attempting to force their way into our unceded Yintah (territories) are intended to serve international interests, for export fuel, and profit for Canada and British Columbia. They will not be benefiting our Wet’suwet’en people, who will feel the brunt of the impacts on our land and salmon-bearing waterways.
It is important in the global consumer-based economy and society that western colonization has created, to question its underpinning values and morality of the practices that maintain this status quo. To continue allowing extraction and harm of lands and waters that are out of sight or on someone else’s territory harms our global ecosystem.
Standing by while indigenous people are criminalized to justify violence against us and forcible removal from our land, denies humanity’s shared responsibility to protect land and water for all future generations. We hope students and families in Washington and everywhere will help shoulder this important work that we owe to our children and grandchildren and all relations we share this beautiful earth with.
Four years ago, I wrote a weird essay about Seattle’s choice to hire Denise Juneau as superintendent of schools.
“I like this decision,” I wrote, “but it’s more of a long-term play than an immediate game-changer. And since our long-term plays have literally never worked, well, is this going to be different?”
Unfortunately, no.
Juneau has already been squeezed back out of Seattle’s schools, and we already have a new superintendent who will, you know, definitely maybe be the one to lead us into the new world.
A few months before I wrote that essay about Juneau, I wrote about meeting Washington’s current attorney general Bob Ferguson.
“We know what bold leadership looks like in Seattle, and we know what kind of impact it can have. If we don't find someone to lead our schools who's as brave as Ferguson has shown himself to be, who's as willing to put themselves on the line for the sake of true change, then we're just going to be asking ourselves the same questions again several years down the line, and we'll have several more years worth of kids who have been failed by the system.”
As we get comfortable with Brent Jones as Juneau’s “long-term” successor (aka superintendent for the next couple years), I really have the same questions. And we really do have several more years worth of kids who have been failed by the system.
Luckily, now we’re right back where we were four years ago… hoping for the best with a new superintendent. Why do I get the feeling we’re going to end up back where we started?
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Natalie Hester who are shaping the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Mario Jovan Shaw who are shaping the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Kimberly Neal-Brannum who are shaping the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Charles and Latanya Parker who are shaping the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Ron Howard who are shaping the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Tracie Holiday-Robinson who are shaping the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Brittany Young who are shaping the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Di'Andre Campbell who are shaping the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Leslie Lawson-Sims who are shaping the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Marvin Pierre who are shaping the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Omari Salisbury who are shaping the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Dr. Kristina Bellamy who are shaping the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Derrick Wheeler-Smith who are shaping the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Dr. Thelma Jackson who are shaping the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in celebration of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Eddie Francis who are shaping the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond.
For me and my family, we are not turning back to old ways that weren’t working. Even if it’s familiar and simple and alluring.
I want my children’s life and education to be more than a repeat of their parents’ old school wounds. Now is the time to be bold, to make decisions based in faith and a revolutionary view of education.
I’ll keep trying to write about education, but my focus has, with four kids at home, necessarily shifted from demanding radical change from a faceless system, to enacting radical change in my own life. This is a mission.
With local elections upon us, I’ve found myself thinking a lot about the uprising of 2020 — or more specifically, about the daytime marches during the uprising of 2020.
People came out of the woodwork, both nationally and in the Seattle area, and many of these marchers were out there for the first time — feeling compelled for the first time to make a visible stand against racism and police violence.
But now, when it comes time to vote based on these new values, the packed streets look in retrospect like a mirage.
Were the marches really that meaningless? Was the anger really so momentary?
It’s been hard to find the right words during this pandemic. And as a dad with four kids — two toddlers, a would-be first-grader, and a newly moody teenager — it’s been hard to even find moments alone to think about what those words might be, let alone to write them down.
But look at me now! Alone in front of a computer. Still, each time I start to write, I start to feel overwhelmed. There’s too much to try to figure out all at once.
Who could have imagined the origins of the anti-CRT movement were right here in Washington state?!
Walker left the University of Michigan after one season and started playing ball for a minor league team in Toledo. After winning a league championship in 1883, the Toledo team joined the American Association, which was one of the “major leagues” of the time.
So, on May 1, 1884 — Opening Day of the American Association season — Walker started at catcher and became the first Black player to play in the big leagues.
Jackie showed us what is possible when we use our greatest gifts to their fullest extent in true service. He lived a life that is to be admired, yes, but there is also a challenge inherent in the legacy of a person who achieved true greatness. Will we rest on his laurels, or will we stand on his shoulders? Will he be a figurehead for hollow celebration, or will we see and remember his humanity and so more clearly recognize our own capacity for greatness?
The increase in physical violence against Asian Americans is not a mysterious aberration. It’s the result of hateful rhetoric from our last President, among others. It’s part of a history of anti-Asian racism and violence that is too often overlooked or minimized. And it’s also being made possible by insensitive, dehumanizing language that has been normalized.
Take this sign, hanging casually in a Swedish Hospital health facility, perpetuating dangerous stereotypes during a time of such specific violence.
The Biden administration has decided to go forward with state testing in schools this year.
Nothing besides pressure from a billion-dollar testing industry can be motivating this decision.
We cannot afford to move into next year as if this year hadn’t happened. We cannot afford to snap back to what was, to miss out on the many ways we all learned and grew over the past year.
I had a revelation while writing the Black History Today series this year. Maybe more than any year before, this year’s installment brought forth hope — even through a year that has brought so much sadness.
There is a great deal of work to be done to ensure that the broader public education system is working for all students, and it will take time for changes in policy and practice to be implemented. But for families in communities who have students who have been underserved or failed by the traditional system — we cannot wait.
If the health and well-being of our community is a priority, the district must train staff on anti-bias, restorative discipline practices. And above all, the mental health of our community must be prioritized over any attempts to standardly assess, bridge learning “gaps” and return to status quo.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Brad Brown who are shaping the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Roxanne Christian-Dancer who are shaping the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in celebration of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like David Coven who are shaping the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in celebration of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Trent and Ericka Pollard who are shaping the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Gary Ladd II who are shaping the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Sue Beyers who are shaping the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Girmay Zahilay who are shaping the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Grandma Jackson who are shaping the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like DaNell Daymon who are shaping the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Kisa Henderson who are shaping the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Aaron Reader who are shaping the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Dr. Keisha Sopher-Scarlett who are shaping the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Chef Ariel Bangs who are shaping the future.
By Marcus Harden
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Danny Cage, Jr., who are shaping the future.
By Marcus Harden
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Mrs. Doris Baptist Hickman who are shaping the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Reagan Jackson who are shaping the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Baionne Coleman who are shaping the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Proofntheplay who are shaping the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Aaron Walker who are shaping the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Randi Jones-Gratton who continue to shape the future.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Dawn Mason who are shaping the future.
The Black History Today series began as a way to honor the everyday heroes in our communities who live selflessly serving others without the fanfare they deserve. Please join me in celebrating these wonderful people by commenting, sharing your stories of them and sharing in the love of those who are indeed making Black History Today!
Eden Mack has resigned from the Seattle School Board.
Mack posted her letter of resignation on Facebook today, saying she could no longer represent District IV because she could “no longer participate in the ongoing systemic dysfunction that is not serving the students and families of Seattle.”
We’ve had seven superintendents in Seattle Public Schools since 2000. We’ve proven to ourselves exhaustively that the next person (doesn’t matter who it is) will not be the one to save us.
We have to right this ship ourselves.
And so when I think about what that line in the sand would look like for myself and my kids — when I consider how I could throw everything I have behind this, once and for all — I have a question of my own:
Is it time to boycott Seattle Public Schools?
By Matt Halvorson
I’m not sure we need to retain Juneau, and I’m not sure we need to let her go. I just feel that it only makes sense to let Juneau go if we are fully committed to being this hard on every part of the System — only if we are finally we are committed to transforming everything — right now.
The Seattle School Board will decide soon whether or not to extend Superintendent Denise Juneau’s contract, which is set to expire next year, and the process has given rise to a storm of unexpected questions and controversy around a leader who had previously been seen as strong and under-appreciated.
This is such a strange time.
Such a strange time, in fact, that it’s already a cliche to even call this a strange time.
And the problem with calling it strange, I suppose, is that strange doesn’t even begin to describe 2020 — not to mention what might come next.
A common misconception exists that tells us our school system is “broken.” The idea is that inequity in our schools — whether that’s racial inequity, gender inequity, or any other sort — can be “fixed,” and that our public schools are inherently good and well-intentioned.
In a time of uprising and upheaval, an education that is truly honest, culturally compentent and child-centered is itself an act of revolution. The foundation for this journey is the revolution within each of our selves. Remember, if things as violently inequitable as we know they are — in our schools, in our cities, in our world — the solution might seem radical at first. We might not fully understand it yet, and it might feel uncomfortable. It might even sound like something our schools conditioned us to fear.
How do we educate our kids during a pandemic? How do we educate our kids during an uprising? How do we educate our kids without conditioning them? It will require new and unfamiliar ways of thinking, living and parenting.
More Zoom calls for kids and remote learning through a historically inequitable public school system are not the answer… but what is? It is becoming more clear every day that we will have to create it ourselves.
Here are a handful of books and ideas that have influenced me and my family as we move away from traditional public schooling, committed to making sure our kids are educated without being schooled, valued without being graded, and loved without being conditioned.
Advocacy takes on many forms. As leaders within communities fight to have equitable representation for all children in schools, we have the power to stand behind them and demand authentic response and actions from school district leaders.
In case you missed it, there will be no police presence in Seattle Public Schools moving forward.
Following the lead of student activists, SPS ended the practice of having police officers — known as “school emphasis officers” — stationed in five middle schools. This announcement came days after Seattle Police used a middle school parking lot as a staging area for anti-protest response without permission
It’s been one of the great joys of my life to share so much time with my son doing something we both love. Deep down, I think we had both known that this Little League baseball season was already lost, but still. It was a sad moment when we finally had to feel and acknowledge it.
What better place to be than on the first baseball field liberated from the Empire?
If you are a parent, George Floyd named you by name. We are on a path toward abolition. Consider that it took a Civil War to end chattel slavery, and that the Montgomery Bus Boycott alone lasted 382 days.
How committed are you to this? What will you do? And what will you keep doing?
As we consider how and when formal education will resume after this period of quarantine, we must ask ourselves: is what we are doing liberatory? Or is it oppressive?
We may have experienced the Last Class in the world we once knew, but from adversity always comes opportunity. I hope we use this time to create a new world of opportunities and access for students of color and the educators that continue to support them.
Seattle Public Schools announced that all high school students will receive an “A” in every class for the spring semester, a move that quietly eliminates — for the time being — one of the primary ways an unjust education system sorts and tracks our kids.
In the early weeks of online learning, a Portland middle-school teacher finds that his students’ personal growth is inspiring hope for the future and offering certainty during unsteady times. Through this necessary period of solitude, of living simply in shared sacrifice, people young and old “are learning about themselves and what is important in life.”
What new world will we create for students and families in the wake of a pandemic that, for now, has only just begun? What are we learning as COVID-19 brings tumbling down the illusions and excuses that propped up the old system? How will our system of education change? How will we move forward as parents and teachers, school administrators and students?
Who will we choose to be now?
It’s been 10 days since my kids were last in school here in Seattle, and as the COVID-19 pandemic continues its systematic shutdown of, well, the entire system, it’s time for us parents to get creative. That’s why I’m glad to be helping my son and his buddies produce a sports-talk podcast about their own youth baseball league.
I have so many thoughts to share amid all of this, and I will be posting as often as I can find the time to write amidst the many quarantined kids in my house.
For today, with schools closed in so many states, let’s talk about the fact that so many of us parents are suddenly homeschooling our kids.
Monika Mathews is the founder of QueenCare in Columbia City, but QueenCare is more than just a skin-care shop. It is a training ground for future entrepreneurs. They are the Young Queens, trained and mentored by Monika as part of a personal development program. The program teaches middle and high school students of color about self-care, entrepreneurship, and a variety of life skills. The girls participate in a series of business workshops aimed at building economic empowerment, and they create, market, and sell skin-care products, which they sold at community markets until the QueenCare store opened in December 2018.
Abiola Akanni, certified yoga instructor, wellness influencer and Trap Vinyasa™ founder, has been sharing her gifts as a yoga teacher for more than 10 years, offering studio and community classes in the Seattle-Tacoma area and leading yoga and wellness retreats nationally.
The longer you serve children in a community, the smaller the world seems to become. Eventually you start to hear certain people mentioned over and over — the after-school counselors, the coaches, the neighborhood-parents. The mentors who’ve made an impact connecting with those around them. Ms. Melba Ayco is one of those people.
Ashley is a riveting storyteller, community convenor, researcher, and media guru for organizations committed to social change. As a leader capable of compelling both the head and the heart, she bridges divides, and she has deep experience shaping perceptions within ambivalent or disconnected audiences. If you are looking for a badass communications and campaign leader, with a refined social justice lens, Ashley is your person.
A frequent critique of the way that Black History Month is celebrated is the manner by which school teachers, librarians, corporate advertisers and others will use their platforms to narrowly focus on only a few African-American history makers during February, selectively promoting a one-sided and self-serving narrative and erasing a rich history of African American activism and dissent.
When you’re a parent to Black children, finding a place for them to run free is about more than just a place where they can get their wiggles out. It is about finding a space where they are free to be young. To be loud, messy, silly and energetic, safe from judgment and bias. Melanie Granger of We Free Hearts has provided an environment for just that.
As a fellow Black woman in philanthropy, Ada is an important part of my support system; a co-conspirator and collaborator. She has taken on the burden that many of us have, supporting Pivotal’s work on diversity, equity and inclusion on top of her other job responsibilities. Her courageous leadership is helping to push our sector’s work forward as we call on our organizations and colleagues to more explicitly center racial equity and social justice.
Superheroes are a dime a dozen on the big screen these days, but they can be easy to miss in real life. Like the caped crusaders with otherworldly powers, the real superheroes around us often seem to masquerade behind a secret identity, rarely getting the recognition and thanks they so deeply deserve.
Marcus Harden is one of those heroes for not only the South Seattle community where he grew up, but for every life he has touched as an educator and a school founder, as a student and as a leader and as a friend.
As a midwife, Juniper provides prenatal, birth and post-partum care for families in the Seattle and Tacoma area. Research has shown that the quality of prenatal care has an impact on child development, and Juniper has cultivated a stellar reputation for the nurturing and attentive care she provided for her clients and their families.
Her midwifery practice is focused on providing a model of care that is evidence-based, equitable and accessible for marginalized groups, especially people of color.
Black History Today, created by Marcus Harden in honor of Black History Month, pays tribute to the living legacy of Black history in our community and beyond, and recognizes the people like Randy Green who are actively shaping the future.
‘We are travelers on a cosmic journey, stardust, swirling and dancing in the eddies and whirlpools of infinity. Life is eternal. We have stopped for a moment to encounter each other, to meet, to love, to share. This is a precious moment. It is a little parenthesis in eternity.’
-Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist
Here we are, basking in the first fresh days of not only a new year, but a new decade. So, what better time than now to take a peek in the rearview mirror? Hindsight is 2020, after all.
Let’s revisit 2019 by taking a look back at the most widely read posts from the last year on the Rise Up for Students blog.
Love is not always “nice.” Sometimes love requires us to be honest when others don’t want to hear the truth. As parents, our love for our children demands that we both hug them and discipline them. As citizens, our love can be displayed both by the flying of a flag and by calling our nation to account when she misses the mark or fails to meet the needs of her citizens.
Erin Jones discusses the idea of global citizenship and shares resources for raising our own globally conscious kids.
The Highly Capable Cohort (or HCC) program in Seattle Public Schools was created decades ago in an attempt to limit white flight from the district. It has been a driver of inequity in our school system ever since. This year, for instance, in 2019, Seattle’s HCC program is roughly 65 percent white. Less than 2 percent of HCC students are Black.
This has been relatively common knowledge for a long time now, but the subtle segregation, systemic bias and overt discrimination have been allowed to persist. Mostly, as far as I can tell, the basis for this has been that the program is considered beneficial to the HCC kids.
Suddenly HCC in Seattle’s schools is a topic of much conversation and much debate, because Superintendent Denise Juneau has proposed to do away with the highly capable cohort model entirely, shifting so-called “highly capable” students out of their segregated cohorts and back to neighborhood schools.
By far the most important race of the four school board seats up for election was the seat that current board president Leslie Harris won over Molly Mitchell. I can’t overstate how much more important this specific race was than any of the other three, nor can I possibly exaggerate how disappointing it is that Mitchell didn’t win.
Former Seattle school board member Stephan Blanford chats with Brandon Hersey, newly appointed school board member representing Southeast Seattle.
Earlier this week, the Seattle Times’ columnist, Danny Westneat, wrote a racially insensitive editorial about the high school that both his son and I attend. We don’t need dismissal and condescending advocation. We need people who are actually ready to listen, engage, and do the work to change the system, not write patronizing articles.
Education tends to make the most rational people seem crazy. So, it begs the question, how do we heal in these sick environments? My go-to answer is to typically just burn it all down and start anew, but we know that those efforts usually just end up looking like a new emperor in the same old clothes.
So, where does our healing come from?
It starts with acknowledging the hurt that has been caused by systems of oppression -- and the equal importance of finding healing for the students and often-overlooked educators who bear the deepest wounds.
A couple years ago, near the end of my term on the Seattle School Board, I used the term, “passive progressivism” to answer a question about why our racial achievement gaps actually got larger every year of my board service. I noted that nearly every person I engaged with while campaigning strongly agreed with my platform, but once in office, I faced stiff resistance from many of these same stakeholders, anytime we were grappling with a racial equity issue.
The Seattle School Board appointed Brandon Hersey as the new representative for District VII in Southeast Seattle.
Whether or not Hersey was a good choice, what I expected to happen is exactly what ended up happening: rather than listening to the people, the board chose the candidate they wanted. In other words, the candidate who would have been elected was not the candidate who was chosen. That’s tough to grapple with.
Systemic racism is often hard to see in action.
It’s easy to look back and wonder, how did we get here? How do we have such deep-rooted opportunity gaps in our schools? How do we have so few Black teachers? How can there be such a thing as a “school-to-prison” pipeline? How do we have so few women of color in positions of elected leadership?
These systemic issues are not necessarily carried out by people of malicious intent. They are carried out by all of us every day as we make seemingly reasonable decisions, and through polices and processes that masquerade as neutral.
We are in the eleventh hour of one such process, but it’s not too late! Today — this very evening — we have a chance to catch the system in the act. So let’s do it.
The Seattle School Board will announce its collective choice tomorrow for the Southeast Seattle district representative on the board. As a reminder, Director Betty Patu, who served in that role for the last 10 years, announced her resignation on May 15, a few days after a deadline that would have allowed the District 7 voters to choose her replacement. Instead, the remaining six school board directors then devised a process to solicit applications from interested district residents, and were wowed to receive 13 applications for what is widely known as “the most thankless job in Seattle.”
Through a series of applicant statements and public forums, we have learned much about the 13 applicants and now, the three finalists for the position. But through telephone interviews with each of the applicants, I sought to shed a bit more light on their qualifications, their priorities and to pose a few relevant questions that I have not yet heard asked.
If you’re reading this, you probably know: Betty Patu resigned. It’s true.
You probably know that Betty Patu was the school board director for southeast Seattle (District VII) for a long time.
You may even know that the remaining six Seattle Public Schools board directors now have to appoint Betty’s replacement, which means we southeast Seattle residents will have our school board director chosen without our direct input.
Tonight is the final candidate forum, and we’re hearing from the final three candidates: Julie Van Arcken, Brandon Hersey and Emijah Smith. I’m sitting in the audience, and I’m just going to write about what’s happening as it’s happening. And about what I think about what’s happening, obviously. And this way, we’ve got pretty much no filter, which ought to be interesting. And very little editing, so beware.
The past couple years have been full of change. Nothing if not exciting — and exhausting — we welcomed our second new baby in less than 13 months this summer. Our house and our lives are in general chaos most of the time.
And so, it was with relatively little fanfare that we sent the two older boys back to school this week. What are your hopes for the children in your life as they embark on a new school chapter? What are your fears? What is on your mind in the first fresh days of this new school year?
I had a revelation this week in Texas about how to think differently about culturally-responsive instruction and equity...
This unusual appointment process presents a quandary for the six sitting board directors, who were all in attendance at the forum. Patu announced her departure just before the elections deadline, effectively blocking District 7 voters from choosing her successor. Instead, the six school board directors, and not the Southeast Seattle community, will choose who represents the district on the school board for the remaining 2 years and 3 months of her term.
By Matt Halvorson
I’m thrilled with the depth of this candidate pool and impressed with every candidate’s passion and good intentions. They are standing before us volunteering their time and souls to service on the school board. And they’re opening themselves up to everything that comes along with that process, including being considered by people like me who have thoughts and opinions. But the fact also remains that we have to choose one person, and that we don’t get to just take the whole field.
So, as we seek an equity champion, a change-maker with an unshakable sense of urgency and possibility and love, a hero with an understanding of the relationship between systemic oppression and public education, here are my first impressions of the candidates — my takeaways from the District VII Candidate Forum. I look forward to seeing how tonight’s forum at RBHS shapes my thinking even further.
Teachers as a whole are vastly underpaid, Black male educators are often in unsupportive environments, and the profession isn’t promoted (or respected) as a viable option in the canon of “careers.”
So why stay? How do we ask others to come? What are the conditions we can create, right where we are to make this seismic shift? Here are seven reasons that I’ve come up with (feel free to add more!)…
Rebeca Muñiz is a candidate for Seattle School Board District 3. She holds a Masters in Education Policy and Leadership from the University of Washington. During her time at UW, she conducted research on the Seattle Public Schools racial equity teams, which informed her understanding of systemic disparities in schools and ways we can address it. Rebeca now serves as a volunteer with One America and the Gender Justice League.
Learn more about Rebeca’s campaign at www.ElectMuniz.com.
As a former high-level athlete...
As someone who came to the United States in 1989 with the dream of someday playing for the national soccer team (I was good but never that good)...
As someone who tried out for 2 WNBA teams in 2000 and learned that non-drafted players typically were paid $20-$30,000/year (about the same as what I made as a starting teacher)...
As someone who has known players in both the NFL and NBA...
The issue of pay for female athletes has been on my mind for a long time.
By Stephan Blanford
Over the weekend, the Seattle School Board finally released the applications of the 12 Southeast Seattle residents who filed to replace Betty Patu on the board. The District 7 seat, which Patu held for 10 years, was vacated July 1 and will be filled when the six remaining board members cast votes for their preferred applicant at the Aug. 14 board meeting.
(Ten of the 12 candidates for the District 7 Seattle School Board seat)
The 12 applicants include: Sandra Bosley, a former teacher and principal; Patricia Cheadle, executive director of an advocacy agency; Dionne Foster, a philanthropic program officer; Jason Hahn, a small business owner; Romanita Hairston, who directs a jobs project within a large corporation; Brandon Hersey, a public school teacher (not in Seattle); Barbara Rockey, an education specialist for a local agency; Chukundi Salisbury, an environmental education manager for Seattle Parks and Rec; Emijah Smith, a community engagement manager for a local child advocacy organization; Julie van Arcken, a community volunteer and education advocate; Sofia Voz, a director at an education support agency, and; Brittany Williams, a licensed care giver (clicking on the last names of each applicant will take you to their online applications and further information).
This vacancy presents a unique opportunity for one of these aspirants to represent families, neighborhoods and schools as a board director while avoiding the time and significant expense of running a half-year campaign. The applicant chosen by the board will serve for 26 months, the remainder of Patu’s four-year term, and will be eligible for reelection in the fall of 2021.
The school board announced a process to make the selection, which includes online statements (that you can find HERE), and a public meeting on Aug. 7 at Rainier Beach High School, where candidates will present their qualifications and answer questions from the audience.
The current six board directors will then cast a final vote in a public board meeting on Aug. 14, and the new District 7 school board director will assume the role on Aug. 28. The school board did not announce the criteria they will use to make the choice, and it can be assumed that each director will rely on personal preferences.
Several issues will confront the new board director and the rest of the board: unacceptably large opportunity gaps for students of color; a new teacher contract; inadequate funding from the legislature stemming from the McCleary decision; and a school board composed of relative novices (after the Fall elections, the school board may have no members with 2+ years of experience.).
The District 7 board director must quickly learn the needs of our district’s students and schools, build relationships with staff and constituents, and absorb a tremendous amount of information in order to effectively represent the district.
As a former school board director (and advocate for the students and families of District 7), I believe that the new director must catalyze and prioritize strategies to resolve the school district’s opportunity gaps. The newly adopted strategic plan states that the school district’s top priority are those students “furthest from educational justice,” but those words mean little if the school board continues to disregard racial equity at every turn.
Southeast Seattle residents should hold the District 7 director accountable for using an equity lens to determine a position on every vote, persuading other directors to do the same. And the new director must be accountable to the community, communicating directly and frequently to constituents and holding community meetings to learn from the students, parents and families. Those same parents and families should watch closely the activities of the new District 7 director and be willing to vote that person out of office (in 2021) if he or she fails to provide strong equity-focused leadership.
By Erin Jones
I didn’t post anything yesterday for a reason...
I was not trying to dampen anyone’s celebration of the 4th or offend anyone on a day that has become set aside as “holy” by some in this nation. However, that being said, independence is not something I celebrate on the 4th.
For those who would say this is the greatest nation in the earth, I would respond by asking, “Which other nations have you visited?”
Are there great things about this nation? YES.
I do have incredible freedoms here — to choose where to live and eat, to have my own business, to travel, to speak freely, to worship God in the ways I choose — AND there is also much about which we should not be proud but should be reflective, concerned, upset... and taking action.
Who remains oppressed and underserved or unserved in this country?
How are we addressing the needs of our most vulnerable — war veterans, mentally ill, children?
That is not even to mention immigrants... especially those at the border (I’ve got thoughts, but that’s for another post).
To those who would say, “Go somewhere else, then, if you don’t like it here,” I say, “That’s not how I roll.”
I believe in engaging to improve those things about which I have the greatest critique. This is exactly why I ran for OSPI — not because I wanted to be a politician.
My entire teaching career in this state was in schools deemed “failing” by the feds and state. I made a choice to teach in places that contained incredible beauty few could see, where children didn’t lack abilities but access to respires and support. I chose to work in places that needed a different kind of belief system, a desire to press in, a willingness to stay and do extra (beyond paid work hours), outside-the-box thinking.
This is why I stay in the country of my birth. I believe I was born here and raised elsewhere around different experiences and perspectives for a reason. I am NOT the answer, but I want to be part of the answer to making this nation the best version of itself.
We are far from that place.
If you have not yet read “What to the Slave is the 4th of July?” by Frederick Douglass, I would encourage a read. We may not have slavery in the ways we used to, but so much of what he said then resonates today.
His speech is intense.
His speech is long and filled with complex language.
It is well worth the read.
Here, in the words of Frederick Douglass, is how many of my friends likely felt about yesterday’s celebrations:
“Your celebration is a sham. Your national greatness? Swelling vanity. Your sounds of rejoicing are empty, heartless. Your shouts of liberty and equality? Hollow mockery. A thin veil to cover up crimes which would disgrace a nation of savages.”
May we always seek to be better.
Leslie Harris is the president of the Seattle School Board, and she will preside over an important decision this summer as the board appoints a new representative for District 7 in southeast Seattle. Here Matt Halvorson asks for a transparent, inclusive process... in song!
By Marcus Harden
“It is strange, then, that the friends of truth and the promoters of freedom have not risen up against the present propaganda in the schools and crushed it.”
- Carter G. Woodson
Being a Black Male Educator has become the real life version of being the Dothraki Warriors charging into battle against the White Walkers with our swords lit for liberation, only to watch them slowly dim and eventually fade out into the good night, with no mythical savior in sight.
One question I’m always asking myself and my teachers (aka my students) is, what is the “why” or your intention for what it is you’re doing? As an educator I am always examining my motivations, intentions and “why,” from school-planning to lesson-planning to even what we’re serving for lunch. Yet in the darkest and the toughest moments, the why I’ve always felt myself asking is, “Why do I choose to stay?”
Why do I choose to keep doing this work?
Two times in my 15 years as an educator has that question shifted my career and my life. The first time led me on a journey to seek knowledge of self to find my personal “why.” The second, a journey which I’m currently on, led to an unapologetic sharpening of my professional “why.”
Both times took me out of my comfort zone and and led me onto a different path along this journey. I’m fortunate. I believe education, young people and learning constitute my purpose. I will always try to be connected to it in one shape or form.
One of my first students/mentors, Craig, years ago wanted to get his masters and, like many of my students, asked about the career path of becoming an educator. And I did everything in my power to dissuade him from going into education, even as the guy who often feels lonely in it.
Why? Because my instinct to protect trumped my instinct to promote our profession. Because I wanted to protect him from the heartbreak of knowing sometimes your best won’t be enough — that kids who look just like him will be criminalized, sexualized and underserved before they even hit puberty and that the heroes that he had as educators, including me, aren’t the perfect archetypes we place outside our classroom doors.
I’ll never forget, though, his sentiment back to me. “I’ve looked up to you, and you love this, and so I want to love this.”
That conversation shifted my entire focus on what my presence meant beyond just being a Black male in the classroom or the school house. That incongruence forced me to think deeply and more critically about my role as an educator. As always, Craig, my former student, has been one of my greatest teachers.
Seeing a National Teacher of the Year finalist like Nate Bowling walk away recently forced us to consider deeply what it means for his school and a system. Some say the system is broken, some say it is doing exactly what it is design to do. What we can agree upon is that it has never adequately served black and brown children — and what’s rarely mentioned is that it has never served black and brown educators adequately either.
“There's a point far out there, when the structures fail you. When the rules aren't weapons anymore, they're shackles, letting the bad guy get ahead... Maybe one day, you may face such a moment of crisis. And in that moment, I hope you have a friend like I did! To plunge their hands into the filth, so that you can keep yours clean!”
-Jim Gordon (Gary Oldman), The Dark Knight Rises 2012
Black Male Educators make up 2 percent of the teaching population in the United States. That stat really stuck out to me when I realized that as a Black male educator I hadn’t (until recently) really explored recruiting other black male educators. I was just happy if I saw another one or if one was interested in hearing about my students.
Those of us that have found our way into that 2 percent often don’t finish our careers in the classroom or even in the field. Why?
We leave because:
- We’re often times the lonely only (this can be as certificated or just the only Black male in general)
- Our experience, expertise or knowledge is misunderstood as some mythical black magic with no regard for the work that relationships and culture cultivation take.
- We often face the same microaggressions from our co-workers or superiors that our students face.
- We are frequently given defacto security/dean of student/behavior support roles (even if that’s not our position).
- We are oftentimes pressed hard against the career glass ceiling. (Your students in place X need you but you’d also like to not become Super Security/Assistant Principal or become even lonelier in a systems-level role, as only 3% of all principals are black)
- We watch as both the helpless victim and silent perpetuator of a system that we simultaneously watch destroy younger versions of ourselves. Daily.
This not a comprehensive experience nor is it an exhaustive list, yet it’s based in very real experiences that may shape a large portion of that 2 percent. If by 2024 the population of our country will have our students being 49 percent white and 51 percent black and brown, we’ve got to find a solution fast to recruit, retain and retrain talented educators of color.
Amazing programs such as the Fellowship of Black Male Educators out of Philadelphia, Profound Gentlemen in the South and Southeastern portion of the country, and Kingmakers of Oakland are all doing their parts. And there’s so much more to be done.
The structures and systems are shackles. We have to remind ourselves that we the people are the system. Our participation keeps the gears turning.
It’s time we break the shackles! We know some of the problem. Next we can begin to explore some of the opportunities and the hope within. Until then, keep those fires lit!
Upendo!
-MLH
The Peoples Champion: Ryland Brown
The term People’s Champion (shout out Muhammad Ali and Dwayne Johnson) resonates with me when it comes to extra-ordinary people doing extraordinary things.
As a feature every blog, I want to focus on one of those people to shine a light on the brilliance and the work that sometimes doesn’t get proper notice.
If you follow sports, especially basketball, the term “glue guy” is one you’ve heard used to describe a player who is that “x factor” or that indescribable property that is un-mistakingly vital to the success of the team.
Tim Duncan, even though a superstar, was dubbed as an Elite Glue Guy. Players now like Draymond Green or Andre Igudola, you know they do a lot and you know they do it well.
Ryland Brown is the glue guy in the academic community, whether that’s having taught an entire generation of students that it’s cool to be a mathematician and critical thinker as a Black male Math Instructor at Denny Middle School (now as a STEM instructor at Odea High School). Yet concurrently as a glue guy in his community, being the consistent brain trust behind numerous State Championship Basketball Teams as an assistant coach, supporting local developmental youth track teams or being on the board for local drill teams, Ryland doesn’t crave or need the fanfare. He is just the glue that quietly holds so many different functions together.
As a father, husband (his brilliant wife Sade is a rockstar teacher at THE Rainier Beach High School who does awesome weekly HBCU swag Fridays!) and as a friend he is also one of the most consistent, authentic and loyal people you could ask for. He may be part of the 2 percent of Black male educators, but he’s in the top 1 percent of all human beings. Ryland Brown is a super glue guy, a true local hero and a champion of the people
The portal is now open. Our time is at hand.
It sounds like science fiction, but alas, the portal is online rather than interdimensional, and the opportunity we now face would allow us to completely revamp our school board before the end of the year.
So the machinations of the Seattle School Board might involve fewer lasers than you were hoping for, but it’s important nonetheless.
Betty Patu has been our school board rep in southeast Seattle for about 10 years now. She announced her resignation three days after the regular election cycle ended last month. So, rather than a public vote deciding her replacement, the school board will appoint someone.
The board is accepting applications through an online portal, as they’re calling it, but it’s just a fairly quick form to fill out. Definitely not as rigorous as a campaign! The deadline to apply is Friday, June 28. After that, the portal will forever close.
Here’s the info from the district’s site:
District VII (7) Appointment Criteria and ProcessApplicants for the position must reside within the boundaries of Director District VII. View district map.
Applicants must also be U.S. citizens and registered voters. For more information, read the Candidate Manual published on the King County Elections website.
The duties for School Board members are defined by Washington state law, RCW 28A.150.230, and RCW section 28A.330. Visit the Washington State Legislature website to read the school director legislative law sections.
Thank you for your interest in applying for the District VII School Board Position.
Appointment process steps:
- June 28: Letter of interest and work experience deadline for interested candidates. Please see the submission form below. This information will be publicly displayed on individual candidate pages. If you want a photo included please email, publicaffairs@seattleschools.org.
- July 8: A questionnaire will be sent to all candidates, representing input from the School Board and feedback gathered from families, staff, students, and partners.
- July 12: Completed candidate questionnaire submitted to boardoffice@seattleschools.org.
- July 19: Answers to the individual questionnaires will be displayed on individual candidate pages.
- Late July-Early August (date to be determined): Public Candidate District VII Forum at Rainier Beach High School. Each applicant will have a set time to share why they want to serve Seattle Public Schools and their qualifications. If time allows, board and audience questions will also be facilitated.
- August (location and date to be determined): Depending on the number of District VII candidates this is an optional public meeting to select the three finalist candidates.
- August (location and date to be determined): Public interviews of final applicants; location and time to be announced.
- August 28: Seattle School Board swears in District VII School Board Director finalist.
Betty Patu, our longtime school board director in Southeast Seattle, will resign her position at the end of the month, but the timing of her announcement has cast doubt on the integrity of the entire process.
Patu announced her resignation at the May 15 school board meeting, which wouldn’t be remarkable except that if the announcement had come three days earlier, her replacement would have been elected by voters.
As it is, the school board will take applications from the public, and the board will have the final say in appointing Patu’s replacement.
Betty Patu has been our school board director in District 7 — my home district — for 10 years now. She is known as a champion for students by some, and understood by others to have overseen the perpetuation of the status quo in a district that desperately needed deeper and more pointed advocacy.
In the end, she’s a bit of both, as is true with most things. And if it’s time for her to move on, then our community is ready for a breath of fresh air.
Regardless, her record is not particularly the issue here. Her 10 years on the board gave her plenty of time to become familiar with the system. She defeated a qualified candidate in Chelsea Byers in the 2017 election, but now resigns more than two years ahead of schedule, three days after a critical deadline, because… it’s “time for someone new to come in.” That’s been her only explanation.
We elected the current school board to do its job, but we did not elect them intending that they choose their successors as well.
On the one hand, it’s important to me to know whether I was intentionally kept out of the voting process, or if it was because of the continued incompetence of the board itself. Perhaps another possibility exists that I'm not considering. But on the other hand, the outcome is the same. It’s bad for our community, bad for our students, and murky at best as to what’s really happening and why.
I’ve asked Director Harris and Director Burke to shed some light on the subject, especially since they specifically declined to comment on questions about whether or not they knew about or discussed the deadline with Patu. We’ll see. Regardless, this is another disappointing, oddly suspicious turn of events on a Seattle School Board that has not exactly earned our trust.
What we need, as always, is a true champion for equity. Someone who knows what’s at stake and takes on the job of school board director without political ambition.
Local hero Erin Okuno, executive director of the Southeast Seattle Education Coalition (SESEC), has been spearheading an effort to advocate for a transparent and inclusive process to replace Patu — and for insurance that the board’s decision reflects the expressed needs and interests of the District 7 community.
Okuno drafted and sent this letter to Director Harris last month, along with the signatures of a variety of community leaders. I’ll keep digging and discussing. Let me know if you see something I’ve missed.
“24 May 2019
Dear School Board President Harris:
District 7 families and the community-based organizations serving them are highly motivated to provide input into the process of replacing Director Patu. We hope you can provide assurances there will be an open and transparent process in appointing a new school board director to fill the vacancy. We look forward to participating in the process.
We would like to suggest the following actions take place to ensure there is a fair and transparent process:
Publicly share and widely communicate a timeline for the appointment process, especially in outreach efforts connected to Southeast Seattle and in ethnic media.
The qualifications and criteria used to select the new school board director will be publicly published in a timely manner.
At least one public forum be held to interview candidates. Residents from District 7, educators working in schools in District 7, and non-profit and community partners operating in District 7 should have priority in asking questions and giving input for the board to consider. If written input is allowed, input from District 7’s residents, educators, and nonprofit partners should be weighted and given higher consideration than the public at large. This is to recognize that the person filling the seat will represent District 7.
A proactive engagement process with Black, Indigenous, People of Color living in District 7 to ensure they are able to participate in the process.
Interpretation and translated materials will be made available during the selection process.
Live streams and video recordings of the forums are made publicly available.
We would appreciate hearing back from you on how we can work with you to ensure these steps are taken. Please contact Erin Okuno, Executive Director, Southeast Seattle Education Coalition, erin@allfivesinfive.org or 425-243-7079 to coordinate next steps. We thank Director Betty Patu for her extensive years of service to our community and schools.
Sincerely,
Melanie Arena
Vice President, Kimball PTSASusan Balbas
Executive Director, Na’ah Illahee FundDavid Beard
Policy & Advocacy Director, School’s Out WashingtonNimco Bulale
SESEC Board Member & Education Program Manager, OneAmericaPhyllis Campano
President, Seattle Education AssociationGregory Davis
Managing Strategist, Rainier Beach Action CoalitionJanice Deguchi
Chair, Asian Pacific Directors Coalition & Executive Director, Community for YouthRegina Elmi
Executive Director, Somali Parent Education BoardCarolyn Feng
President, Beacon Hill PTASandy Gunder
SESEC Board MemberMatt Halvorson
Rise Up For Students & District 7 ParentJames Hong
Executive Director, Vietnamese Friendship AssociationMichael Itti
Executive Director, Chinese Information Service Center (CISC)Brianna Jackson
Executive Director, LaunchLexi Keeler
SESEC Board Chair & District 7 ParentPeggy Kwok
Youth Development Program Supervisor, Chinese Information Service Center (CISC)O’Hara Jiménez
PTA co-President, Graham Hill ElementaryLee Lambert
Executive Director, City YearJulie Marl
Executive Director, ZENO MathMunira Mohamed
Executive Director, East African Community ServicesBehnosh Najafi
Co-President, Friends of Hawthorne ElementaryDieu Nguyen
PTSA President, Asa Mercer InternationalRoxana Norouzi
Deputy Director, OneAmericaMark Okazaki
Executive Director, Neighborhood HouseErin Okuno
Executive Director, Southeast Seattle Education CoalitionEstela Ortega
Executive Director, El Centro de la RazaMira Posner
South Shore, PTSA co-presidentRyan Quigtar
SESEC Board Member & Executive Director, Renton Innovation Zone PartnershipShira Rosen
Interim Executive Director, Communities in Schools-SeattleHeidi Schillinger
Founder & Principal, Equity MattersRich Stolz
Executive Director, OneAmericaKatharine Strange
Secretary, Van Asselt Elementary PTA & member, Integrated Schools SeattleEmily Tomita
SESEC Board Member & Youth Program Manager, Refugee Women’s Alliance (ReWA)Mia Tuan
Dean, College of Education — University of WashingtonVivian van Gelder
Families and Communities for Equity in Schools (FACES)Julia Warth
Director of Policy and Research, League of Education VotersElizabeth Whitford
CEO, School’s Out WashingtonLaura Wright
Co-Executive Director, WA-BLOC”
Photo by Matt Halvorson
Today I have a few odds and ends, so let’s just get into it.
I’ve put my finger on something. Regardless of where our children fall in terms of being directly impacted by inequity, the inequity and the downright evil in the world cheapens my love for my own children when I stand by in idle awareness. The separation of families at the detention centers — and more specifically, my knowing about it as it continues to happen — cheapens my love for my children. The ridiculous opportunity gaps in our schools and the spinning wheels that perpetuate them cheapen my love for my children. For all of us and all of ours.
Don’t you think?
Washington State became the first state in the country to adopt an automatic enrollment policy for advanced math, English, and science classes in all high schools. The policy, also known as Academic Acceleration, was adopted last month and is designed to reduce historic barriers to dual-credit and advanced-class enrollment, especially for underrepresented students.
In addition to reducing enrollment disparities in advanced courses, the attainment of college-level credit in high school also reduces financial barriers for post-secondary opportunities. Read more about mandatory acceleration here.
I have been thinking about it, and I may have been wrong about the suggestion of starting each school day with an indigenous land acknowledgment. I don’t know though. I very rarely get feedback, to be honest, and I haven’t gotten a whole lot about this topic either. I mostly just write and write and send it out into the abyss. But I’ve been thinking about this, and I’m having second thoughts.
I definitely like the idea of beginning school board meetings — the seat of power, in a sense — with a land acknowledgment, but we don’t need to replicate the rote brainwashyness of the Pledge of Allegiance. We wouldn’t want this to lose its meaning. But it is important for students to hear and say these words of acknowledgment and gratitude at least periodically, I remain convinced of that.
Also, to be clear, I’m not the right person to write that acknowledgment if we’re going to actually use one.
Time for another acknowledgment. My son, Julian, is technically my stepson. His biological dad isn’t in love with the fact that I refer to Julian as my son, but the fact is, whether or not he’s my biological offspring, he’s my son. He is not like a son to me. He is a son to me. And I know this for sure because I also have a biological son.
At the same time, I want to acknowledge this. If somebody else was out there telling the world that Zeke was his son, I’d be like… uh, actually, that’s a little hard to swallow. So, today, I’ll clarify that Julian is my stepson, but in general, I’ll continue to refer to him as my son, because I don’t want to fabricate some separation between Julian and his siblings that doesn’t actually exist.
We have, as always seems to be the case, more shenanigans and shadiness and downright poor governance happening with the Seattle School Board.
On the other hand, Rebeca Muniz is running for the Seattle School Board this fall. It’s time to get familiar with her.
We’ll talk more tomorrow in more detail about the school board.
For now, thanks for doing what you do. I appreciate you.
This is the year, if there ever was one, to really change Seattle Public Schools. In addition to the four seats up for election this fall, two additional school board members in Seattle (Betty Patu and Zachary DeWolf) have announced their desire to resign this year and vacate their seats early.
The school board only has seven members to begin with. By the end of this year, we could essentially have a completely new school board. I've written more about this that I'll share tomorrow, but I just want to plant the seed for now.
Our school board has been a dysfunctional roadblock to change for too long. Imagine six new champions for equity filling these school board seats. Think of what's suddenly possible!
This is a rare opportunity. Let's make the most of it.
(An original sketch by Amanda Gunderson)
By Matt Halvorson
Seattle Public Schools are in the process of choosing a new K-5 science curriculum. It has become a complete mess.
Here’s the shortest version I can give you: a special committee recommended a curriculum called Amplify. A trio of interests — Rick Burke (Seattle School Board VP), Melissa Westbrook (Seattle’s anti-equity education blogger) and Sue Peters (former Seattle board president) have together raised a number of questions about the Amplify pilot program in the district, primarily related to budget and funding.
On the basis of these question marks, they have rallied support for Houghton Mifflin Harcourt instead, but their questions about the pilot program and its funding seem like a smoke screen. These three have made it clear they believed Houghton Mifflin Harcourt was the better choice in the first place. But why exactly? That is hazier.
The board will vote to adopt a new science curriculum at the end of May. Burke and fellow board director Scott Pinkham proposed an amendment at today’s meeting that would have the board voting to approve the Houghton Mifflin Harcourt curriculum when the time comes instead of Amplify.
I have huge concerns about all of this, but here’s the thing: I don’t know much about Amplify’s science curriculum. I don’t know much about Houghton Mifflin Harcourt’s science curriculum. This process has gotten so stupid that the curricula themselves are now sort of beside the point.
(Side note: I wasn’t able to attend the board meeting tonight because I am home with a sick baby and my two tornado-of-energy sons while my partner traveled for work. So I don’t actually know, as I write this with everyone else finally sleeping, what transpired at that meeting. We’ll find out quite soon, I imagine.)
Anyway, I look at this, and I see a carbon copy of 2014, when Burke (then part of a community organization) led an effort — along with Peters and Westbrook — to overturn a district committee’s recommendation and adopt a Houghton Mifflin Harcourt K-5 math curriculum instead.
That’s weird, isn’t it? The same people using the same loophole to override a committee’s recommendation and choose the same curriculum company? And on top of that, Westbrook and Peters and Burke have been known to peddle opinions that work against the best interests of our Black and brown students and our low-income families. So if they all team up to try to hijack a process and strong-arm their agenda, that’s an immediate red flag in and of itself.
If they do it in exactly the same way they did in 2014, that’s more than a red flag. It’s somebody holding lots of red flags jumping up and down and trying to get your attention. You know?
(Second side note: Doesn’t Westbrook-to-Peters-to-Burke sound like a passable double-play combo? No Tinker-to-Evers-to-Chance, obviously, or in the same universe as Vizquel-to-Baerga-to-Thome. But you could convince a person that Westbrook/Peters/Burke was, like, three-fourths of the Pirates infield in the ‘40s or something. If for some reason you wanted to.)
In all of this, what seems to really be at issue is the decision-making process. I don’t think Westbrook-to-Peters-to-Burke ever once considered the equity implications in their decision-making process about the K-5 science curriculum. I don’t think they know the equity implications, nor does history give us any indication that they’ll be willing to ask for help here.
Let’s not forget that Seattle Public Schools recently announced that its new guiding principle is to focus on Black male achievement, based on the concept of targeted universalism. Do you think Westbrook-to-Peters-to-Burke reached their conclusions about Houghton Mifflin Harcourt based on a nuanced understanding of what curriculum would best serve Black male students in the district? Because that, supposedly, is the lens through which we make all decisions in the district now.
Right?
Do we even have reason to believe Burke or Pinkham has run all this through the district’s old racial equity analysis tool, which is admittedly insufficient but also better than nothing — and supposedly (I think?) a mandatory part of this sort of process?
Above all, if we don't know what impact this will have on marginalized communities in the district, then we need to find out. If we're serious about wanting to close the opportunity gap, then the first and most important question we need to ask about every single decision concerning our students and our schools is what impact it will have on Black students. What impact will this have on low-income families in Seattle? What impact will this have on Seattle Public Schools’ indigenous students? What impact will this have on the kids we talk about wanting to uplift?
If our outcomes are ever going to change, then our decision-making processes have to change. Otherwise, we will continue to end up in the same places again and again and again.
So often, the loudest advocates in the room at a meeting like this have not considered the equity implications of their opinions. We rely on our elected board members to demand equity in every decision. That might require some outside coaching or consulting. This is a skill that needs to be built, a muscle that needs to be awakened.
Rick Burke was elected to the school board because he’s really passionate about math and science textbooks. I’m not, and I appreciate that people out there care about that. Melissa Westbrook is a pretty damn ferocious watchdog, and I admire that. She presses down on questionable budget issues and won’t relent until she gets answers, and that’s important work, too. She’s incredibly dedicated to what she does.
This is not personal. As soon as Rick Burke has built the skill that would allow him to independently understand the impact his decisions have on my children, and then starts using that skill to deeply consider his decisions through an equity lens, then he’s my guy. He has my full, unbridled support. In fact, he only needs to want to be that champion for equity, and I’m all in.
And I’m not personally against the shortstop in this metaphor either. As soon as Melissa Westbrook starts unrelentingly demanding equity for our Black and brown students — and truly being willing to understand what that means — then I am her biggest supporter.
In the case of this science curriculum, maybe we find out in the end that Houghton Mifflin Harcourt really is the best choice for our district based on a deeply equitable decision-making process. Wonderful! I have no love for any particular company making math curricula, or even for any particular method of teaching math.
I have nothing but love for our students, however, and I try to express that love the most fiercely for the kids being trampled by the system. So, I’m out here trying to convince the other people influencing these conversations about education to do the same. Let’s start now. We’re all champions for equity, effective immediately. Deal?