Robinson placed college banners along the windows to encourage students in juvenile detention to think about their futures. (Photo by Jay Paul)
The hallways at the Richmond Juvenile Detention Center are painted white but lined with colors. There are college banners from Yale, Harvard, Dartmouth and Princeton, as well as from Virginia schools, sports powerhouses, and historically black colleges and universities.
Alongside those are murals, African-American history timelines and pictures of prominent figures — among them the late Supreme Court Justice Thurgood Marshall and tennis champions Venus and Serena Williams — with inspirational quotes, such as this one from author Alice Walker: “The most common way people give up their power is by thinking they don’t have any.”
Creating the displays is one of the first things Rodney Robinson, 40, did after arriving in 2015 to teach history and social studies to incarcerated youth at the Virgie Binford Education Center. The banners and quotes, he says, are to let the students know “anything is possible as long as you dream it.”
His success at inspiring students to rise above their circumstances earned him recognition as 2019 regional teacher of the year, then Virginia teacher of the year and, on Jan. 23, one of four finalists for national teacher of the year, to be named in the spring. The announcement from the Council of Chief State School Officers states that Robinson "creates a positive school culture by empowering his students — many of whom have experienced trauma — to become civically minded social advocates who use their skills and voices to [effect] physical and policy changes at their school." (April 24 update: Robinson has been chosen 2019 National Teacher of the Year.)
Seeing his mother, Sylvia Robinson, interact with children at her home day-care center is what sparked his interest in teaching, Robinson says.
“My mother always wanted to be a teacher, but she never got a chance to,” he says. “Watching her work hard to get her GED when I was in high school [while she worked full-time and raised a family] — that was a lasting memory.”
Now in his 19th year as an educator, Robinson previously worked at Lucille Brown Middle School, and George Wythe and Armstrong high schools. At Virgie Binford, he teaches students in grades 6 to 12, many of whom are only in his class for a month or less as they await trial or transfer to another facility. Some, who are in a transitional “post-disposition” program, stay four to six months, during which time they receive counseling, work with mentors and nonprofit organizations such as Art 180, and go on family visits before returning home.
Wall displays at Virgie Binford Education Center include pictures and inspirational quotes. (Photo by Jay Paul)
“I’ve always wanted to work where I’m needed the most,” says Robinson, who grew up in King William County and lives in Chesterfield County with his wife, Summer, also a teacher in Richmond Public Schools. He talked with Richmond magazine in December as he prepared to step into his new role.
Richmond magazine: What led you to teach at Virgie Binford?
Robinson: I went there because I wanted to better understand the school-to-prison pipeline, and I thought what better way to understand it than to get in on the back end of it and work backwards. I want to develop alternatives for students who end up in the juvenile justice system — find out what mistakes they made and what help could have been offered along the way to help them avoid the system.
RM: What are some of the insights you’ve gained?
Robinson: Although school isn’t the main reason students end up in juvenile detention, there are policies in school systems that contribute to the problem — policies such as long-term suspension, zero tolerance policies — anything that takes the kid out of the classroom environment and places them in a nonproductive environment, or on the street.
RM: What changes should be made?
Robinson: We need more intervention. We need funding for intervention. That’s truly what helps the student out. Whether it’s social services in the school, mental health, role models, behavior counselors — the intervention should be [tailored] to that student.
RM: What does it mean to be selected as Virginia teacher of the year?
Robinson: It’s always an honor to be recognized for what you do, but more importantly, it’s a chance for me to tell my kids’ story. Often you don’t hear the story of kids in detention.
RM: What story can you share about your students?
Robinson: A 14-year-old student of mine said he hadn’t had a hug since his mother died when he was 8 years old. Because of that lack of love, there’s a lot of anger. Someone could have stepped in along the way and told the kid they loved him and had great expectations for him. When he told me that — one of the regulations of the detention center says I can’t give him a hug. Contact is forbidden. I’m an educator. If a kid needs a hug, I can’t give them a hug. That’s the hardest part of my job.
RM: How different is teaching there from your other experiences?
Robinson: I like the small environment; it’s a chance to get one-on-one with the students. At most, you have 10 kids in the class. A lot of times, because a student has been truant, or hasn’t had positive interaction with a school, it’s the first time for them to block out all the distractions of the outside world and focus on their education. Typically, they’re far behind. A lot of it is getting them on the right track so when they leave they can get back to their comprehensive school and be on track to graduate or get a GED and a job.
RM: Are there a lot of students coming in and out of your classes?
Robinson: Turnover is constant. Luckily because I worked in Richmond Public Schools, I developed an informal network of teachers. We keep in contact and try to develop a positive relationship with the schools to make sure students are on track, make sure records are straight. It’s also hard because sometimes we’ll have five different subjects in one class — one student might be in world geography, one might be in U.S. history, one might be in world history. You find out that morning when you get there that’s what you have.
RM: How do you make that work?
Robinson: The good thing is, the way history is being taught is more of a skill-based course. When the kid comes in, we work on the skill [for] the first half of the class, and [for] the second half, we work on applying the skill. It might be developing a timeline. Then I’ll say, “You can do one on the Civil War, you can do one on ancient Greece.”
RM: Is it difficult to reach the students?
Robinson: Once you get past the trauma of being locked up, we get a chance to say, “Hey, this is your opportunity to focus and get good grades.” Once you do that, most students are very receptive and they perform at a high level. That’s something comprehensive schools should look at a little more. You have to let them know you care about their mental well-being and physical well-being before you care about their academic performance.
RM: What’s the biggest challenge your students face?
Robinson: It’s trauma that comes from multigenerational poverty, drug abuse, sexual abuse, street violence. Those are some of the major issues. I think in education, we don’t understand how much trauma affects your mental and academic ability.
RM: Is there a piece of advice you fall back on in tough situations?
Robinson: I go back to advice my mother gave me: Every kid is different and all of them must be treated as if they’re different. It goes back to the equity versus equality argument — give every student what they need, not necessarily what is fair.
RM: What’s one history lesson you never get tired of teaching?
Robinson: I’m definitely a World War II guy because my grandfather [James Otis Nelson] served in World War II and Korea, and one of my first childhood memories was playing with his medals and his uniform. I felt that World War II was my connection to the grandfather I didn’t get to know because he died when I was 5.
RM: What’s on your plate at the moment?
Robinson: I’ll be appearing around the state at various events. It’s sort of like you’re Miss Virginia. You’re representative of all the teachers in Virginia. You constantly have to make sure you do a good job. You also get a voice, and you need to use that voice to advocate for what teachers need and what students need. I’ll be discussing policy with educational subcommittees and state senators and congressmen. A lot of times people make policies and don’t understand how they affect the classroom teachers. Bringing a different voice to the table, working on state-level education — I feel that’s where the most change happens.
