In a fit of rage, I created this banner in response to my experiences as a Teaching Assistant at a photography school. At the beginning of my time as an educator, I was still finding my footing. I was learning how to share knowledge while also trying to understand my relationship with being “apolitical” in the classroom, and it made me extremely uncomfortable. Fast forward a year, and I now have a much better relationship with the idea that it is okay to be political. I believe that advocating for basic human rights will always be the right thing to do as an educator. At the time, though, I did not know how to navigate those “hot” moments when a student brings up a topic or opinion I do not necessarily agree with.

Donald Trump had just been shot in the ear, and of course that topic made its way into the classroom. I actually think one of the best places to talk about world events is in an academic space. At the same time, I was reconciling with the fact that being a “Democrat” or a “liberal” had taken on new meanings in the past few years. The older students in the program were discussing the situation from a very particular point of view. One thing led to another, and the genocide of Palestinians entered the conversation.

The students asked me if I was “political.” I said, “Of course,” but that was it. I did not know what else to say. I did not want to disrupt the equilibrium of the classroom as a Teaching Assistant. It was not my classroom, but I still held a position of leadership. I panicked and chose to listen, because I knew my opinion was not going to align with theirs, even though we may have wanted some of the same things.

Because I felt like I did not have the confidence to speak up in the classroom, I responded outside of it.

I went to Home Depot. I know, I know. It was the closest hardware store in the middle of nowhere. Sometimes we just have to do the work we are called to do. I grabbed a painter’s tarp, stencils, and a box of red Sharpies. I wrote a kind of stream-of-consciousness poem and stenciled each letter one by one. I was not only a helping hand in the classroom but also an observer. I had been listening to my students talk about these world events from a privileged point of view. I was witnessing their anger, and I also was responding to those events in anger.

I hung the banner at the entrance with rope and clips, then went to bed. When I woke up, it was gone. Apparently someone complained and the school took it down.

I put it up knowing it would be taken down. That was the point.