DC is one of my favorite cities in the country. That’s different than me saying Washington, of course. I’ve visited Washington on multiple occasions in my youth, including trips to the Smithsonian, a youth demonstration in my teens, and a protest related to the Supreme Court decision on affirmative action in 2003. Those were “Washington” trips, focused on the official buildings and monuments people immediately connect to the federal government.
That’s separate from DC, though, a combination of the neighborhoods and people that still call the space Chocolate City. My cousin Vanessa invited me to her new crib in the DMV area in my 20s. I’d hop on the Amtrak quarterly, exploring the cultural institutions that made this place home for millions of Black people. In my twenties, it felt miraculous to eat a fresh meal and pick up a book or 10 at Busboys and Poets. Vanessa also connected me to Malik, who pulled us into the burgeoning underground R&B/soul scene. When the National Museum of African American History and Culture opened a permanent home in 2016, the federal government built a connective tissue between Washington and DC, too.
The geometry of gridded streets mixed with spaces for art and authentic cuisine felt like people playing with shades and hues within a coloring book. The Trump administration has already ripped through the semblances of Washington airs and is now using their power to suppress these DC norms, too.
DC became a favored destination around the time when I began my teaching career. In my classroom, I teetered between using rows and aisles or groupings for seating arrangements. I immediately saw the pros and cons of the gridded seating. During “formal” assessments, I could quickly get a sense of individual learning and behaviors in relation to the content. But as I stood in front of them, I’d get anxious if the classroom was quiet for too long. The classroom needed a little more noise as that’s where the magic actually happens. During learning activities, getting them to learn from each other felt more organic in tables of two or more.
In other words, these rows and aisles helped with a perception of social control, but had diminishing returns for the desired culture of my classroom.
Subscribe to continue reading
Subscribe to get access to the rest of this post and other subscriber-only content.