“The Best Way to be Heard” By Jaxon White

I think the last time I felt really confident in myself were the times I'd go head to head with my sophomore history teacher, Mr. E. He was my 10th grade American history teacher, and very briefly, my English teacher in 8th grade. I don't like Mr. E; I've never liked Mr. E. I didn't like him prior to this class, but the only other history class was too loud for me to work in. Mr. E had a bit of a white savior complex. He once tossed around the idea of having a fake court trial on civil rights and Brown v Board of Education in his predominantly black classroom. It doesn't sound as bad typed, but he picked me out for prosecution… and I wasn't going to prosecute civil rights. He never ended up committing to the trial, but the example still served as a reflection of his character: he was frustrating and condescending. 

Repeatedly throughout the year, Mr. E would be in the middle of teaching, some kid would pull out their phone, and then he would go on disrupting class for 5-10 minutes just to try and force this kid to put it away. There'd be no other work for the rest of the class to do. There'd be no quiet discussion. There were so many days where we’d spend countless minutes of class-time watching him try to debate a student, which almost always ended in him being yelled at by the student – then the student would either be sent out of the room for misconduct, or make the personal choice to storm out. I understand rules are rules, but his inflexible class rules slowed everyone down on numerous occasions. Phones were one thing. But he'd also make everyone listen to his homemade podcast for a grade. And he’d get angry if folks were late, despite his class being on the top floor, especially right after lunch period. Mr. E’s pride was so big, that he would make the entire class late if someone packed up before the bell, and became irritated at the slightest disinterest shown to him. I argued with Mr. E a few times about these mentioned rules as well as a few of his other unfair rules and standards. He rarely listened to my points, but I said my piece. I managed to keep myself calm on the surface and make my points even while an educator repeatedly treated me as lesser than. I’m really proud of that. I think being able to do something like that is important. 

Mr. E isn't the type of person to stand there and scream at someone. He's the type of person to hold a person’s hand and gently teach them that the sky is blue like he's the only person that's ever seen it. Reactions of anger were a victory in his opinion. In my own back-and-forths with him, even if I was correct, I would need to be calm about my delivery. If I wasn't, to him, my words weren't valid anymore. It's why so many of the people who argued with him were sent out.  And the thing is, Mr. E is only one representation of how adults approach the opinions shared by young people. From my point of view, what Hearing Youth Voices practices is the opposite. Out in the world, if you're young, or a person of color, or fem-presenting, your words stop being heard the moment they stop being “rational”. Hearing Youth Voices finds a way to elegantly balance truthful passion and necessary tact in a way that makes young people feel understood. I think that's the best way to be heard.