“Everybody’s got a title. But do you know your name?” The question, posed by gospel superstar Kirk Franklin and singer Mali Music in their song, Give Me, is one of the most-important questions we as adults, both in our lives and in that of all the children around. And the underlying reasons behind that question should not only motivate us as adults to keep our own lives on an even keel, but to ensure that every child gets the high-quality education they need for success in their adulthood.
Anyone who has been in the adult world long enough knows that at some point, you will have possess plenty of titles, garner much in the way of praise, attract scorn from those with whom you disagree (or simply despise your existence), and own plenty of shiny tchotchkes, gewgaws and luxury goods. Wonderful things to have, behold and worth having (and your editor has them all). But all of these titles, assets and accolades you possess for just a season. And yet, you can allow things to be the basis for your self-worth.
But eventually, the titles are no longer yours; the jobs lost to layoffs; your supporters become detractors; foes will move on a new source of scorn; and the toys will break, wear down or simply lose their appeal. Add in the inevitable life events — especially your parents and grandparents aging and heading to the hereafter — and you can lose your way, your confidence sapped, and your faith dissipated. If this is so true for those of us who have come from middle class households, imagine what happens to kids from our poorest urban and rural communities, many of whom have never gotten the high-quality education they need to open doors of opportunity and find themselves surrounded by baubles that shine more brightly than books they cannot read.
You can’t survive and overcome this turmoil if you only measure yourself by temporal things; you must, as an editor of mine once told me, both be your own validation, know that you have people around you who love and care for you, know that there is a maker that will guide you through the tough times, and the self-confidence and optimism, earned from succeeding and learning, that allows you to bounce back from adversity. In short, you must know your name.
It starts with the nurturing love, moral fiber and undying faith that can only be provided by parents and families with the help of clergy and humanists. It is self-discipline emerging out of a parent’s love and their zealous desire to make sure their child can survive and thrive, and the hugs and kisses and square meals put on the table each and every day. It’s a faith borne out of a belief in the Creator (or Buddha or whatever you choose).
Then, after parents, comes knowledge and self-confidence: The ability to read proficiently and understand abstractions upon which the world is formed; the self-confidence that comes from achievement and learning; from the ability to converse with anyone anywhere no matter their station in life; the capability to go anywhere because you have the reading, math and science skills you need for economic and social success.
This is where the reform of American public education comes in. Contrary to what some education traditionalists may think, testing isn’t mechanistic. It is, in fact, giving all of those who want to overhaul American public education a tool for freeing our kids, especially those from our poorest communities, from prison and poverty. When you expand school choice, you give parents the power to give their children the education they need for brighter futures. And ending tenure and reforming how we recruit, train and reward teachers for their work allows us to help good-to-great teachers reach every child. So every child can read and know their name.
As Franklin and Mali Music would say, every child needs a love that will never change. They also need the education, confidence and knowledge so that they can be more than the things that just surround them. And we must rebuild American public education so that they can have all that they need to know who they are, in both the tough times and the grand.
