We have an unnatural allegiance to dogpiling onto Black women.
Watching the discourse surrounding Nikole Hannah-Jones over the past several days has cemented that observation. The general consensus of opinions regarding Hannah-Jones’ essay In Fighting For Every Child, Did I Betray My Own? landed in a pile of negative responses that not only missed the larger point, but were too focused on the individualism of the problem she contended with in the first place. The frustration that has been applied toward Hannah-Jones seems to be more about her informed choices as a 20 plus year investigative journalism veteran and mother and less about the system that forces a choice between two unsteady options in the first place.
The majority of the judgement being dished out is solely directed at Nikole Hannah-Jones as if she is a singular parent who made a unilateral decision. As far as we know, this decision was made between two parents who were in agreement with how their daughter’s academic experience would be approached. The singular responsibility being placed onto the mother alone is another issue within itself that is worth exploring.
Before we criticize her decision to share this experience as a parent navigating tough decisions, I think it’s fair to ask: Who has Nikole Hannah-Jones always shown us that she is? What has her track record said about her? How do we accurately depict who she is through the insight and work she’s produced?
And as we consider each question, we must also acknowledge that it is neither yours or my place to decide whether she was wrong or not. Not when we have bigger fish to fry. Instead of continually harping on what we think Hannah-Jones should have done, the more solution oriented route is to look at the broader issue as the focal point. That being, in a system designed to maintain Black, brown, and poor communities as ill-equipped entities, how do we yield better results for all of the children within that system? Better yet, how do we free them from the constraints of a structure established to keep them entrapped?
America’s Educational Liabilities
As we consider the possibility of outcomes, it is equally necessary to survey where we are. According to The Harvard Gazette, “Average reading scores for high school seniors – released by Nation’s Report Card – fell to their lowest level since 1992.” Concurrently, only 35 to 40 percent of public school students reach proficiency on national math and reading assessments per the Nation’s Report Card. Plainly stated, we are knee-deep in a learning crisis whose impact is beyond the children and are following us into the world of media literacy, basic comprehension, and individual decision-making. The icing on the cake? As a nation, we’re in the midst of a historic all-time low of teen reading abilities and the achievement gap between U.S. readers is the largest among other countries (ABC News). With the investment of artificial intelligence ingrained within not only everyday society, but also education — we haven’t fully uncovered a tangible root cause of how the literacy gap cultivated let alone how AI interference will hinder the mending needed.
And yet, the conversation has become less about the children experiencing these failures and more about whether one mother made the correct decision for her child.
The Bigger Problem
We are adept to the ‘me over we’ mindset. Hannah-Jones guilelessly wanted to save everyone by putting herself in a position to be personally ingrained into a system she’s spent years studying and challenging. That choice may not have produced the outcome she wanted for her daughter, but it does not erase the larger problem she confronted.
People are alleging that she sacrificed her daughter’s wellbeing and educational growth due to self righteousness. That criticism deserves to be heard, particularly because Najya herself does not agree with her parents’ initial decision. On the This American Life podcast, Najya says, “Everyone isn’t your kid, I am.” She also says, “There was no benefit in you putting me in those schools.”
Najya’s opinion and experience matters. She deserved an education that prepared her academically, and she deserved to have her concerns heard. But acknowledging that does not require us to abandon the children who remain inside the same system.
What About the Other Children?
While yes, Najya deserved better, the other children who are constrained to their circumstances also deserve better. Access to a quality education should not be determined by what socioeconomic category you fall under. It should be a basic right. Dismantling the system that has subjected children to a system that is inherently discriminatory, and produces ill-equipped students should be the focus.
Hannah-Jones chose to take a “we” approach to a society that is largely accustomed to individualism. It may not have worked for her child, but that doesn’t mean her attempt wasn’t understandable. Morally speaking, our obligations are to one another. The discussion initiated by Hannah-Jones’ essay offers an opportunity to look beyond her experiences and more into the same student she considered along with her own. It prompts us to look at the efficacy, or lack thereof that many don’t have alternative routes accessible to them. Her stance also challenges us to remember that all children are special.
Every student deserves a quality education from the schools they have access to. But the truth of the matter is that in current conditions of the school system — they do not. A child’s intellectual ability and capacity is nurtured in the classroom but it’s a nonnegotiable that what’s been initiated within the school setting should be further expounded upon at home. Wealth of knowledge isn’t built nor sustained from a singular influence. It’s a collaborative effort between educators and parents.
I hope the same energy being offered to Hannah-Jones and her daughter encourages our greater community to be just as invested in the children in our own lives.
It takes awareness and bravery to publicly share your missteps. But it also takes responsibility to actively rectify an unfavorable decision. Nikole Hannah-Jones fulfilled her job as a journalist — she reported transparently and sparked more conversation around the actual state of education than we’ve seen in recent years. Whether she and her husband did the right thing isn’t the actual point. It’s not even as important as the core of the story. The priority should be finding out: WHY Black, brown, and poor children have to sacrifice their cultural safety for the sake of a quality education?
If the outrage does not lead us toward better schools, stronger literacy, greater accountability or more equitable access to education, then we aren’t accomplishing anything.
That is the conversation worth prioritizing.