Warning: this post takes this blog an overdue, brief-but-important detour into the topics of race, inequality, and identity.
During Christmas, my wife and I attended a family gathering. There was food, there was alcohol, there was family. There was also other extended family - wife's cousin's cousins family. And as you will soon read, perhaps not enough alcohol.
My wife's family gatherings are typically pretty big. Usually there are several big tables simply because there are too many people to fit with one table. I happened to sit with these extended family - cousins of cousins. I tend to eat a lot (people are often surprised by how much I eat since I don't look the size), so I remained eating at the table while most people had left to watch an exciting Heat vs Lakers game on TV. Perhaps out of politeness, these related strangers attempted to strike some casual conversation with the inevitable questions pop up -- although the sequence was a bit strange. They began by asking me what I was studying. I suppose it has to do with how young I looked.
"I am pursuing a masters degree in math education." I said, while stuffing my face with more turkey, and highly distracted since the Lakers were surprising me with these bench players coming on the court and throwing up big numbers.
"Oh" they said.
Yeah, I'm pretty terrible at small talk. I think on some sort of philosophical ideological level, I just dislike small talk for the shallowness that it carries. I am aware that deep conversations often necessitates initial small talk -- but I am usually just bored by them. At least, that's the excuse I am giving for never fully developing a comfort level with small talk.
Completely awkwardly, and probably a full 5 minutes later, I offered some similar questions for them. One of them just finished her masters degree in Asian studies. The conversation drifted slowly to work and future work, and I mentioned that I am a teacher.
"In what?"
"Mathematics, at a high school here in town"
"Aren't you fulfilling a stereotype?" She referenced the fact that I am Asian.
I paused. I didn't expect this conversation. Didn't she say she completed a degree in math education? Is she saying that Asian individuals should all avoid mathematics in order to not fulfill stereotypes? How could someone who should be steeped in literature pose a question that narrows racial and cultural identities? Tons of questions flash through my mind.
"Not the teaching part, I guess." Way too distracted by the questions surfacing in my mind, I threw out a useless response and kept eating. And continued thinking.
Some people might have used this opportunity to elaborate, to flip the table, to argue, to discuss.
Not me. Or at least not me at the time. Looking back, I probably should have entered into that conversation. But I didn't -- I am not sure why. Maybe it was the setting - casual conversations at a holiday dinner table shouldn't evoke deep conversations. Maybe it was the company - my lack of knowledge of who they are and where they stand. Or maybe it was just me.
I am not sure why.
I've always been interested in discussions of racial identity and equity. Besides my personal experiences of racial profiling (e.g. my detour away from mathematics and my own interests), I began to read more about these related issues after discovering Angry Asian Man a few years ago. Occasionally, besides reading literature on math education, I would get sidetracked by literature on racism, identity, and injustice.
So I certainly did not lack the interest or the background. But I simply didn't engage in that conversation.
I am not sure why.
I think one of my weaknesses is that I tend to want to talk about the issues that I have not yet resolved for myself. Issues that I have resolved to a point that I am satisfied with, I tend to lose interest (at least in the moment) in wanting to discuss them. I am not sure what I just described makes that much sense, so let me give an example:
Group work or no group work for students?
Yes to group work, I'd say. There are benefits all around. Mathematics is a discursive subject. Talking and discussing mathematics is far more effective with respect to understanding than memorizing and regurgitating. Beyond an understanding of the content, students are also developing an appreciation of broad transferable skills such as collaboration, teamwork, communication... and much more.
I hold some beliefs to most topics that I've thought through. I don't mind discussions around these beliefs, as long as these conversations do happen. Firmly held beliefs without reason or challenge often bugs me.
It's not that I believe that these issues are completely resolved -- that there are no more conversations to be had. It's just that these issues have been resolved for me to a certain point - and I am interested in moving forward from that point.
And I am not really interested in convincing someone else of my point of view, I am more interested in considering their point of view. Maybe this is another one of my weaknesses. In a discussion about group work, for example, if someone challenges the notion of mathematics being a discursive subject, I would get sucked into thinking more deeply about: discursive nature of mathematics, perception of mathematics, purpose of mathematics...etc.
All the while not really making an attempt to convince or defend.
If the person was posing the question in order to promote their own point: one of those "ah ha, you can't give an answer, so you must be wrong," then they would press their victory and end the conversation.
I often worry that this is a skill that I should be interested in - but not interested in. This is why I am extremely glad that there are like-minded people who are promoting the values that I believe in. The charismatic Dan Meyer on the values of engagement and inquiry, this talk on men's responsibility in gender inequity and domestic violence, Jay Smooth's brief discussion on marriage equality, Jason and Grace's discussion on supporting teachers of colour, Kamau Bell on transgender issues... and much more.
But this is really the easy way out. I am basically taking a backseat while letting others create a path through ignorance, immaturity, and inequity. I need to somehow find a balance between a) being completely confrontational and misrepresenting my desire to have conversations and b) being completely passive and not engage in important conversations.
What I should have done during that dinner conversation was to challenge this notion that in order to overcome stereotypes, we need to somehow control people's identities. Yes, it is wrong with assuming proficiency in mathematics from students of Asian descent. But it is even more wrong to prevent a pursuit of interest and curiosity due to a desire to oppose racial stereotypes. By reacting to stigmatization of a "model minority," we are allowing the stereotypes to ultimately decide our lives. How is this rejection of identity suppose to move us forward in the continued discussion of race as a culturally-constructed, historically-significant, often-misunderstood, even-more-often-miscommunicated, and often almost-always-misrepresented issue?
What I should have done was ignored the fact that it was casual conversation at a dinner table - because these conversations should never be casual. It's like the "casual conversation" of why teachers are not important, and that "those who can, do; and those who can't, teach." What I should have done was Taylor Mali that casual conversation and transform it.
What I should have done was become an angry Asian man.
What I should have done something was anything. Anything at all.
And that's something that I did not do.
And my failure haunts me.























