Early in 2020, I enrolled in Leaders of Social Justice in Education: Theory to Practice, a course taught by Dr. Amber Makaiau, Dr. Patricia Halagao, and Dr. Ger Thao. This course was offered through the University of Hawaiʻi (UH) at Mānoa College of Education (COE) in collaboration with the Hanahauʻoli School Professional Development Center as part of an initiative to advance social justice education in Hawaiʻi. This initiative, the Social Justice in Education Project, aims to grow local educators’ capacity for educating children and youth to be active participants in a diverse democracy, and is made possible by the generosity and support of Jana and Howard Wolff.

Talofa lava, ‘o Kiara-Jeané Kamāli‘i Alcaide ko‘u inoa. Ako ay isang guro sa DreamHouse ‘Ewa Beach Public Charter High School. Hi, my name is Kiara-Jeané Kamāli‘i Alcaide. I teach at DreamHouse ‘Ewa Beach Public Charter High School. I write this blog to share that despite the number of current efforts that are being made in the United States to restrict what students learn about the diverse history of this country – I am proud to be the first public charter school teacher in the state and country at-large to teach a Filipino history course to my students next fall. Part of a larger project aimed at integrating Filipino history and culture into the K-12 American school system, I am part of an inaugural cohort of teachers who are now being prepared to be instructors for this course. In this blog, I reflect on what this experience means to me both professionally and personally. 

In her Presidential inaugural poem of “The Hill We Climb,” Amanda Gorman (2021) eloquently recites: 

When day comes we step out of the shade,
aflame and unafraid
The new dawn blooms as we free it
For there is always light,
if only we’re brave enough to see it
If only we’re brave enough to be it

Four years have passed since we elected Joe Biden President and Kamala Harris as the first woman of color Vice President. Yet, our nation remains deeply divided, as evidenced by the fracture along political lines. In this pivotal moment, it is imperative that we bridge our differences and champion an education rooted in social justice, one that upholds the principles of equality, fairness, and democracy. We must equip our educational and student leaders with the moral compass, tools, resources and networks to be able to “climb the hill” and enact meaningful change in the lives of our keiki, ‘ohana, and lāhui.

What does it mean to be a teacher? More elemental, What does it mean to even contemplate being a teacher? And what does it mean to come back to one’s home community to teach, and learn?  When does that moment happen when being a teacher first crosses one’s mind? I suspect that for some young people that moment happens and the questions arise when they first experience student-driven learning with a great teacher, guide or coach. A single class that engages a young learner could very well be the spark that ignites the fire and the passion to teach. I also suspect that for many young folk it is their “less than engaging” experiences “in class” that quickly turn them away from what many call the most noble profession. So what happens then? What forces come into play that, later, might tempt young folks into teaching? Surely it is not the pay, or the working conditions, or the way teachers are often in the crosshairs of our current cultural conflicts. 

In The Courage to Teach, Parker Palmer (2017) writes, “If we want to grow as teachers -- we must do something alien to academic culture: we must talk to each other about our inner lives -- risky stuff in a profession that fears the personal and seeks safety in the technical, the distant, the abstract” (p. 48). For many years, social justice educators have taken this to heart in the work that we do in classrooms, schools, and in the wide array of professional development we lead. We have come to know deeply how the personal and professional collide when it comes to social justice in education, and to grow the courage for this work in our students, we have come to depend on the creation of intellectually safe (Jackson, 2001) classrooms and professional communities of inquiry. But what happens when we ask teacher leaders to disclose their inner lives, take personal and professional risks, and become vulnerable in what is often a hostile, volatile, and mostly unsafe public space? As we reflect on our praxis, this is the work that is required of leaders of social justice in education, and it is why ongoing support and initiatives, such as The Social Justice Education in Hawai‘i Project, is needed to confront obstacles that have oftentimes kept us separate and silent.

I was in 7th grade when I first bled through my pants at school; I was mortified. My Science teacher (bless Mrs. Marchani) kept a bunch of sweaters on the back of her classroom door, and as I discovered, they weren’t just for the unpredictable weather. As it turned out, she kept this pile of outerwear stocked for middle school menstruators like me. She helped me tie one of her sweaters around my waist, so that I could go about my day of learning. I will never forget that kindness. Suddenly, whenever I saw those sweaters on the hips of other girls, I tried to give knowing eye-contact solidarity. Twenty-some years later, I’m the one in charge of the 7th grade classroom.

“In times of profound change, the learners inherit the earth, while the learned find themselves beautifully equipped to deal with a world that no longer exists.” --Eric Hoffer, 1982, p. 146
I hope everyone can agree with me that we are indeed in a time of profound change: extreme and visible examples of a divided society, growing climate consciousness, massive income inequality, increased integration of technology into our daily life, resistance to evidence and science-based policy making, new questions about how to organize time and carry out work, protest and progress against racial injustice, voter suppression and increased activism, renewed interest in the arts, the diversification of leadership, and the growing call for more socially just forms of democratic governance.