Hi! I’m Kerri. I’m qualified as a teacher of English as a second or other language. I have worked, almost exclusively in adult education, although I have very fond memories of teaching children at an English language summer camp many years ago.
For the last 6 years I have taught English, Creative Writing and other courses as part of my role as tutor within the prison system.
As an immigrant to the UK, I have particular interest in the immigrant communities in my corner of Scotland, in that, prior to moving to the prison environment, I taught English to the many immigrants to the UK – particularly eastern Europeans and people from the Indian subcontinent.
My lumpy crossing? While I can claim to be an immigrant like so many of the individuals I’ve taught, my immigrant experience has been very different from most of theirs. As a white American female, I get a soft pass from many otherwise right-wing anti-immigrant locals. My lumpy crossing has been that I’ve felt somehow “above” the normal, garden-variety racist, because I’ve been privileged enough to experience and hear tales of being an “other” across several European countries. The lumps come when I realise that my experience as an immigrant (uncomfortable as it sometimes was) was dripping with all of the privilege of being a white American female, with the right accent and wide acceptance. I benefit, daily, from a system made for me. That’s sometimes been hard to accept- after all I’m far from affluent and self-assured, like many other American ex-pats I avoid. I’m a bit of an oddball, and, of all the unforgivable flaws a white American female can have, I’m undeniably fat- an ugly stereotype of a certain kind of American. So, how could I be anything less than an empathetic friend and cheerleader to the immigrants of all colours, that I teach? Lumps. I keep discovering that I am, in fact, possessor of ample, deeply-concealed (from me) “garden-variety” racist beliefs. This space has been uncomfortable, and I’ve even “got out of the car” recently, only to realise that this work is so much more important than my discomfort. I need my praxis to follow what I claim to believe. I have the added responsibility of being an educator for individuals who are often some of the most vulnerable people in our society. I love my job. I care about my learners. They deserve the best.