This is an archived article that was published on sltrib.com in 2016, and information in the article may be outdated. It is provided only for personal research purposes and may not be reprinted.

In the aftermath of our recent election, I have closely followed what has transpired, and continues to do so, in schools across the United States. I am deeply saddened to continually read about acts of intolerance that take place in elementary and secondary schools.

In preparation for a recent class with my art education students, I made copies of messages from heads of schools and superintendents that were sent to teachers immediately after the election. All of these visionary leaders, whether from Salt Lake City or Boston, stated in unequivocal terms that their schools were places of safety and tolerance that held an important and powerful place in the lives of youth.

These letters spawned a conversation in class where we all grappled with the question, "What is our role as educators?" We talked about our responsibility to create spaces of inclusion for all of our students. We discussed our individual responsibility for constructing learning environments where respect, critical thinking, civility, creativity and cooperation are both learned and celebrated.

In the cacophony of messages we all are confronted with about the purpose of schooling and the role of educators, there is a strand that stands out for me. Keep in mind that the messages are not only spoken, but are danced, sung, embodied and in visual form.

The conversation of which I speak holds echoes of "Sí, se puede!" It is brave and strong and full of hope. It consists of people who believe in the strength of our diversity and the essential need for us to work together. It includes those of us who want to help shepherd the dreams of our youth. It is where I stand for myself, for all of my students — past, present and future — and for their students. It is an expansive conversation that allows for diverse views in a respectful way. It demands that we as educators hold the space for this to flourish, even if we are afraid. For our courage and love can be stronger than our fear.

These are the people I stand with. These are the people who love the world enough to deserve the great honor of stewarding our youth.

Beth Krensky

Salt Lake City