Black Don.

The dominant culture in education constantly reminds me that no matter how many degrees I hold, my place in their system is defined by their comfort with my presence. Credentials don’t shield against biases; they merely illuminate the barriers to equity, reinforcing a hierarchy that resists meaningful change for marginalized voices. Yes, DEI is dead. 

By Don Allen, Ed.S., M.A. Ed., MAT  - Journal of A Black Teacher 

     

Sitting in Cohort 13's class on Saturday represented one of the most uncomfortable experiences of my doctoral journey. The topic of the evening rested on an upcoming event meant to seek current disparities in education and propose solutions with key policymakers and stakeholders. This was a rare opportunity, as our voices as educators could be elevated into spaces of power. Then, as the discussion unfolded, I watched colleagues back out, pointing to vague reasons or shifting the focus to other priorities. 

     The unease in the room wasn't rooted in logistics or timing; it was race. 

     Behind their polite declinations, I had an inkling of something else deeper inside - the unwillingness to confront raw realities of inequity or to rattle the structures that perpetuate them. A heavy fog seemed to settle over me at that moment. I couldn't disregard how the excitement about "solutions" vaporized with urgency, especially to equity and justice for Black and Brown students. 

     This wasn't the first time I had witnessed that kind of avoidance, but this one felt very personal. 

     There I sat, Black Don, with the full weight of my identity and what it brings into that space. My being a reminder of disparities we were there to discuss, I couldn't help but feel invisible. Educators who claimed to be leading, or at least advocating for, students didn't have the will to engage in difficult conversations about race. What frustrates me more is that equity work isn't purely theoretical; it is deeply personal for the students we serve. Paving the way to a level playing field, best practices, and systemic change isn't optional; it's required. After leaving class that day, I knew that no matter how it went or how isolated I remained, I had chosen to stand committed.      

    I know my role as Black Don: to state the truth even when others do not want to speak up, to speak for those voices that are so often silenced, and to remind myself that change, though slow and uncomfortable, starts with those willing to step forward. 

1. “Punching Bag” (Love, 150).
2. “We feel no pain because we feel everything” (Love, 151).
3. “Whiteness Wellness” (Love, 160).
4. “Wellness in Schools” (Love, 161).

References 

Love, B. (2020). We want to do more than survive: Abolitionist teaching and the pursuit of educational freedom. Beacon Press (ISBN 978-0807028346)