Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story – Hamilton, Reflection Part 1

“Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story?”—Hamilton

Last week, I participate in the Teachers College Reading and Writing Project (TCRWP) Reading Institute, which is based on the Calkins Units of Study. It was an intense week and powerful learning experience. It was a week of story. Even though I was SO excited to be a part of the institute, I was also sad that because of the pandemic, I had to participate virtually. I was very much looking forward to attending in person, so I could also spend some extra time in New York City. Friday after I completed the institute, instead of watching the Broadway show “Hamilton” live, I watched the made-for-television version on Disney Plus. Even though I was not in the theatre, the brilliance of the performance—the history, music, lyrics, choreography, staging, energy, diversity of the cast—took my breath away! The performance was so compelling that I wanted to know more about the actors, the historical figures, the time period, the perspectives—I wanted more of the story! 

The next morning while I was waiting for my coffee to brew, I began scrolling through my social media feeds. Of course, I saw others who had also watched “Hamilton” the night before and were commenting on the show. To my surprise, some of the comments were condemning the fact that the story had not been told from a different perspective, namely the perspective of a BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, person of color) historical figure. Since I have been actively working to listen, learn, and develop my liberatory consciousness, I put my educator hat on and took some time to reflect on these comments. I mulled around four ideas in my mind:  the deficit model, balance, character development, and compelling stories. 

One reason our educational model is oppressive and needs to be reimagined is because it is grounded in a deficit way of thinking. We often identify and label our students based on their deficiencies and then seek to determine how we as educators can “fix” those deficiencies. Instead, educators need to shift their perspective to celebrate cultural differences that can support critical thinking and academic achievement. So, when I read the comments criticizing “Hamilton,” my immediate thought was, are we going to find fault with every story? Are we going to view every story from a deficit perspective? Or, can we use stories, even some of the most racist stories, to support critical thinking and academic achievement? 

There needs to be a balance. Stories are not just racist or antiracist. Each story falls on a continuum and each person has a unique transaction (Rosenblatt, 1978) with story. I think of all of the training I have had that reminds me that I need to teach the reader (process) and not the book (product). As an educator, I can instruct my students on how to develop their liberatory consciousness by presenting a variety of stories (not the same as endorsing a story) and teaching them the critical process of becoming aware, analyzing each story, taking action, and being accountable (Love, 2010). My goal is to use story to meet students where they are on the continuum of their liberatory consciousness and move them one step closer to transformation and liberation. So, educating students on the process will serve them whenever they encounter story and where-ever they are in their process of becoming liberators. I worry that operating with a deficit model of story will lead to censorship and that is a slippery slope that leads all of us away from our goal of inclusive democratic ideals which include freedom of speech. 

The most compelling stories are like strong complicated characters—they are not black or white, right or wrong. They are grey, complex, and messy. They provide us with mirrors and windows (Bishop, 1990) into the best of humanity and the worse of humanity. We learn best, when we explore all the faucets of character and story. When we understand story within a particular setting or time. When we read stories from many perspectives to listen and learn instead of to pass judgment. Ultimately, that is how we will create a more inclusive society. When we acknowledge the devastatingly awful aspects of our history AND the brilliance that lies in each of us. When we learn from our mistakes, even the worst of them, and use those lessons to provide hope so we can take action for a better future. 

Who lives? Who dies? Who tells your story? Hamilton was a brilliant and compelling story! The danger is not that it wasn’t told from the perspective of a BIPOC historical figure, the danger is in letting that be the single story (Adichie, 2009). For me, part of the brilliance of Hamilton was in the fact that it compelled me to learn more about the various stories that are woven into the tapestry of our history. It compelled to write and tell my story—regardless of how imperfect a story it may be. Who will tell your story? And, when it is told, who will listen with an open mind and an inclusive heart?