Some students thought it was a gunshot. Most were just confused.
“Why do they hate you, Mr. Tilton?” they asked.
I wasn’t ready to answer that question then. I am now.
(A Thread)
They've banged on my door, spit on my carpet, and yelled into my classroom that I can “suck a d**k.” They’ve followed me down the hallway, calling me “Skin flute.”
And it’s not going down without a fight.
The voices of hatred are loud, but they aren't the only ones.
I'm in Room 220 if you need a reminder.
First, I'm safe, and I've got support. Bring that same fierce protective energy and bit hearted love to the people, on campus and off, who don't.
Let's make sure our responses challenge those three things, rather than reinforcing them.
(End thread)