This post was written before the weekend was filled with protests across the world. Our hearts are heavy, frustrated that even in the 21^st century, the lives of some are not always valued as much as others. We are not so far removed from the Civil Rights Movement. Many of our parents and grandparents grew up in a segregated America.

A country built on and by genocide cannot heal overnight, no matter how great we believe that country to be. I hope and pray that the widespread, continued protests following the murder of George Floyd signal a turning point for our country.

Because I still believe that we can heal. It will take time. I may not see it in my lifetime, but maybe my grandchildren will.

As an Indigenous woman, I often think about the injustices my ancestors faced. I think about how much they endured, how their experiences shaped me without their knowing. I think about honoring their memory and I think about how my descendants will someday think about or honor me. Will my life, my actions be something worth honoring?

Will I be a good ancestor?

Throughout America’s history, race and class and education have been inextricably linked. Education has been used to further genocide. Equitable education experiences have been denied to entire groups of people in order to disenfranchise them. Regrettably, education has been used as a tool of oppression for people of color and remnants of that oppression still exist today.

Along with being Indigenous, I am also white. I benefit from white privilege and I recognize the need to use that privilege for good. My expertise lies in the early childhood field. I don’t claim to have the solutions to the world’s problems. I don’t know how to end racism.

What I do know is that race and class based disparities still exist, including in early childhood education. Black and brown children are expelled at higher rates than their white peers. Women of color make up a significant portion of the early childhood workforce, a field notorious for being underfunded. People of color are conspicuously absent from children’s books, both as characters and authors.

But if education can be used to oppress, it can also be used to liberate.

At the end of this post, I list a number of ways that you can make a difference in the lives of children. That list is not exclusive to early childhood. Use it for all the things you’re passionate about. Use it to uplift others. Use it to dismantle systems of oppression.

Use it to be a good ancestor.

---

Since the very beginnings of the COVID-19 crisis, when schools and child care centers and workplaces began to shut down and parents were suddenly stuck at home with their kids AND trying to do their jobs remotely, people started praising teachers and child care workers.

“I’ve spent one day with my kid at home and all I have to say is that her teachers don’t get paid enough.”

“I turned my back for one minute and my kid stuck three legos up his nose then threw a tantrum when I took them out. How do teachers do it?”

“If this pandemic has taught us anything, it’s that we don’t give teachers enough credit.”

As a former educator turned early childhood policy advocate, I was hyped to finally see educators getting the recognition they deserve.

Early childhood educators and providers are chronically underpaid, undervalued, and over worked. I’ve joked many times with my fellow preschool teachers about how our joints feel ten years older than our actual ages. Getting up and down off the floor and chasing kids around doesn’t get easier as time marches on.

When I was in college, I worked at a large bookstore chain. It was common to make small talk while helping a customer find a book. One customer asked me what my degree was.

“Early childhood education,” I said.

“What? Like a wet nurse?”

True story, 100%.

Over the years, people have said things like “What do you actually do all day?” and “It must be really nice to get to just play with kids all day.” The biggest whopper is “I don’t think we really need a Department of Education.”

Again, I’m not lying or exaggerating here. These are actual things people have actually said to me.

All the while, getting paid very little. When I lived in San Francisco, I was paid five dollars an hour more than minimum wage, which was already higher than the rest of the country. Even at full time hours and before taxes, that wouldn’t have been enough for me to afford a one bedroom apartment on my own.

And that’s not uncommon. Even in parts of the country with lower costs of living, early learning educators still struggle. In fact, since the pandemic began, some educators have received larger unemployment checks than paychecks.

So when I hear people praise educators, I hope you’ll forgive me for thinking

“I sure hope you keep that energy when this is all said and done.”

Thanks to COVID-19, we’ve seen record highs of unemployment applications. Child care centers and home providers have closed their doors, not knowing when or even if they’ll open again. Legislatures across the country are scrambling to restructure and cut budgets as they’re faced with revenue shortfalls.

Before the pandemic, 51% of Americans lived in child care deserts, an area in which for each licensed child care spot there are at least three children to fill it. (See how your own state performs at www.childcaredeserts.org.)

Now, experts say that without a significant investment, around 4.5 million child care slots could be lost due to permanent closures. That’s about half of all licensed child care slots in America.

Yep, you read that right.

Children and families were already struggling to find child care and if Congress doesn’t do something about it, things are going to get a lot harder.

States have started lifting their public health orders and people who were lucky enough to keep their jobs throughout the pandemic are beginning to be called back into work. Those who lost their jobs will begin looking for another. The vast majority of parents of young children have to work. But where will their children go?

We already know that when children have access to quality early learning opportunities they have better outcomes in school and later in life.

When we invest in the child care industry, we increase that access to affordable, quality care for children and families. More parents are able to work and provide for their families. In fact, when affordable child care isn’t available, many parents have to choose between quitting or changing their jobs, costing them $37 billion a year in lost income and promotions.

When more people are working, tax revenue increases and can be reinvested in valuable services. People spend more within their communities, bolstering their local economies.

And those kids whose lives were improved by quality early learning? They keep the cycle going.

A healthy, equitable child care industry means a healthy, equitable economy.

We have to invest in kids.

You might be thinking,

“Yeah but I’m just an ordinary person. How can I make a difference?”

First off, you are absolutely extraordinary and you absolutely can make a difference.

Here are five easy steps how.

• Contact your legislators. Nag them over and over again. Tell them how you or someone you know has been personally impacted by the child care crisis. Ask them to protect and invest in the child care industry. If there’s legislation you can point to, include that. You can start with your city officials and move onto your state and federal legislators. Wherever you feel most comfortable.

• Find an early childhood centered nonprofit. Sign up for their email list. Volunteer if you can. Nonprofits make it easy to get all the facts and get in touch with your legislators. Here’s a great organization that I personally volunteer with.

• Raise awareness. Talk to everyone you know. Ask them their stories. Tell them yours.

• And please, whatever you do, be kind to educators. Let them know how much you appreciate them at all times of the year, global pandemic or not.

• Click here to speak up for kids RIGHT NOW! (Without having to talk to anyone.)