Last year, I had the privilege of learning and leading as the 2022 年夏威夷州年度教师 and a CCSSO National Finalist. After being thrown into the public arena, my image, my story and my classroom were displayed and open for critique. As I traveled across the nation, teachers shared their stories with me. One of the most heartfelt stories I heard was from a fellow Asian educator. They appreciated seeing another Asian educator receive national recognition in a profession where only 2.1% 的公立学校教育工作者 are of Asian descent.
I sheepishly expressed gratitude while struggling with such praise. As a teacher in Hawaiʻi, I am keenly aware and reminded of my identity as a "local" teacher, one whose family heritage traces back generations in the same community. By ancestral lineage, I am gosei, five generations diasporic from Japan. I find pride in my ancestors’ survival and perseverance to separate themselves from imperial Japan and seek a better life in Hawaiʻi.
At the same time, I also recognize that my privileged experience in Hawaiʻi was forged by 定居者文化, the effects of which still persist in the state educational system. While 21% of teachers in Hawai’i are Japanese, only 10% have Native Hawaiian ancestry. This statistic is exacerbated by an inverse representation of students — 23% Native Hawaiian and 9% Japanese. The fact that I was selected as Hawaiʻi Teacher of the Year, despite not being a Native Hawaiian, only complicates my feeling as a settler in this community.
Often, I see educators across the US continent claiming an identity through proximity to land without any regard for its connection to Indigenous and Native communities. The off-handed remark - such as a person referring to themselves as “本土加利福尼亚” - is jarring if that individual cannot trace ancestral land back to 远古时代. For Indigenous and Native peoples, who have a deep sense of place that is woven into their cultures, practices and genealogy, this can be seen as disrespectful.
当然，我们要取得进步，并且随着教师努力争取公平和在课堂之外，我们必须反思并尊重学生的多样性。更重要的是，对于有色人种教师来说，其中一些经历过这个国家人民和教育制度的历史压迫，我们必须承认并与我们作为北美土著土地上的定居者的身份作斗争。
有色人种教师
在学生教学之后美国大陆的一所高中，作为校园里唯一的亚裔成年人，我感到非常孤立。这种感觉增强了我强调自己和学生之间归属感的愿望。我们制定了课堂规范，并讨论了如何安排桌子和小组来加强我们的社区。我的意图是始终建立一种课堂体验，让我的学习者感受到共享所有权。无论教室墙外的世界如何，我们都有一个共同的空间——一个从分歧、偏见和偏见中喘息的空间。
This experience was echoed by many of the educators I met over the past year. In fact, it is often the teachers - who are the only educators that hold marginalized identities - that find ways to navigate the hate against BIPOC and carve out supportive spaces for students. In these cases, support often looks like 确保学生在课程中看到自己, 尊重学生的多语言智能 and 直接与他们的社区和土地接触.
处于多重、边缘化社会身份交叉点的教师正在改变面貌教育之中。尽管如此，为了实现长期的系统性变革，我们还有很多事情要做。
定居者身份
There are many teachers of color that can trace their arrivals - 无论是自愿还是被迫 - back to lands occupied by the United States government. Despite our history, we must contend with the fact that we are settlers with values and beliefs that may not align with Indigenous and Native communities.
很长一段时间，我都在思考我是否会感受到作为定居者的归属感夏威夷，甚至在我自己家族的祖先故乡。从身体上看，我的学生很明显我是夏威夷的定居者。学生们经常对我在看似西方的科学领域中使用夏威夷语言、哲学和土著实践的持续效用表示好奇。相反，我也有定居者学生反驳说“这不是他们的文化。”
However, through my years of teaching, I've learned how important it is to remind my students that we are occupying spaces that 积极取代土著人民, not only as a matter of fact but as a means of building a community where we can thoughtfully and respectfully honor the Indigenous and Native peoples of this land.
这是我的定居者老师们必须开始的工作颜色。我们花费数年时间学习我们社会身份的历史，以努力在具有相似和突出经历的教育中创造公平的竞争环境。对于那些有幸在原住民土地上任教的人来说，这片土地本身拥有几代人的历史和文化，更进一步承认我们身份的这一部分对于建立社区和尊重被占领土地的祖先至关重要。
Our Responsibility as Settler 有色人种教师
作为教师有色人种继续在教育领域建设包容性空间，我们有责任学习和提升我们现在占据的土地上的故事。首先要问自己一些令人不安的问题：我们如何协调我们作为教师的定居者身份？在我们提升黑人和棕色人种的辉煌故事的同时，我们是否在积极提升和强调土著的认知方式和基于土地的智慧？我们如何将自己定位为土著习俗的学习者？我们对公平和解放的坚持必须包括我们所有人，深入了解我们作为定居者身份的根源可能是向前迈出的积极而有意义的一步。
作为每天协商自己作为有色人种定居者教师身份的人，我希望现在和未来的教师和定居者继续为学生创造支持空间，同时更多地了解他们作为土著土地上定居者的角色。
