When I’m planning an argumentative writing assignment, I like to look for articles to show students how arguments look “in the wild,” or in other words, how real writers construct effective arguments. While searching for models, I came across a really interesting series that The New York Times ran in 2022 called “I Was Wrong About.” It consisted of eight opinion writers who revisited either predictions they had made or advice they had given that they ended up changing their mind about. I liked the essays because they used both narrative and cause and effect to develop an argument, which are two of the methods of argument development in the AP Language curriculum. The writers told a story about how they developed their initial opinion and then used cause and effect to reflect on what changed their minds.
I decided to try this same type of essay with my students. After we read “I Was Wrong About Facebook,” in which Farhad Manjoo writes about how he advocated for everyone to embrace and join Facebook in 2009, an opinion he no longer believes in, I asked students to reflect on the following questions with a brainstorming list:
What have you changed your opinion about?
Have circumstances or new information made you view something differently?
Whenever I assign a new writing assignment, I like to complete it alongside my students to share my process and work out any kinks. So, I shared my own brainstorming list to help students get started:
Things Mrs. Schroeder was wrong about:
- Microwaves
- Running a marathon
- Harry Potter
- Country music
- My mammy collection
Most of these topics would lead to lighthearted essays about things I thought I hated but changed my mind about (marathons, Harry Potter, country music) or things I thought I needed but realized I actually didn’t (a microwave). But one topic was heavier, and it was the one my students immediately had questions about (What is a mammy collection, and how does it fit into this assignment??) and the changed opinion that was the hardest for me to admit. But, I knew it was an important story to share.
When I was growing up, my grandma had a salt and pepper shaker set that we called Salty and Peppy. Peppy was an African American cook and Salty was a mammy—or, for those who have never heard the term, a stereotypical representation of an African American enslaved woman whose duties would have included caring for children and other household chores. I loved this set and thought it was cute. As a young woman, I came across an identical set in an antiques store and purchased it for the nostalgia I felt upon seeing it. This led me to discover that there were lots of different kitchen items representing mammies that could be found in thrift shops and antiques malls. I went on to collect a mammy cookie jar, measuring cups, a utensil holder, and even a cast-iron bank. I had them displayed around my kitchen.
At this point in the story, my students were aghast, and rightly so. YOU had statues of slave women in your kitchen?!
At the time, my husband was skeptical of this collection, but I remember justifying it with the explanation that I wasn’t racist; if I was, why would I want to look at representations of Black people and have them on display in my house? Right?
I can now admit that I was, in fact, very much in the wrong.
My mind began to change when I first learned the phrase “impact over intent,” which taught me that how others perceive my words and actions is more important than what I originally thought or intended. My own nostalgia and my belief that I was not a racist blinded me to the fact that Black people would be offended by objects that relied on stereotypical representations that downplayed and even commercialized the horrors of slavery. Once I realized this, the mammies were removed.
Again, my students were shocked by this story, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t embarrassed or ashamed to tell it to them. Even writing about it now is hard, because when we get things terribly wrong, it is hard to admit. The introduction to The New York Times series says, “In our age of hyperpartisanship and polarization, when social media echo chambers incentivize digging in and doubling down, it’s not easy to admit you got something wrong. But here at Times Opinion, we still hold on to the idea that good-faith intellectual debate is possible, that we should all be able to rethink our positions on issues, from the most serious to the most trivial.”
I would add that young people often see the adults in their lives—parents, teachers, politicians—as infallible, assuming that we always get things right and know what’s best. But that is simply not true. Beyond learning how to write a good argument, I think the most important lesson that came out of this writing assignment was for my students to see that I am not perfect. That in this instance, I didn’t get it right, but I learned from my mistakes, and I’m continually evolving. As Maya Angelou famously said, “Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.”
This assignment came well into the school year when I had established the necessary trust with my class to share such a vulnerable story. When my students turned in their essays, most were about their changing tastes in music, fashion, or food, which I expected, but one student wrote a deeply reflective essay about being wrong about the LGBTQ community. While I can’t say for sure, I wonder if sharing my own story gave this student the courage to take on the self-reflective practice of admitting when we’re wrong.
