The summer before Katrina hit New Orleans, Deb Howard decided that what the city needed was a charm school. When you think of charm school you probably envision debutantes with plastered smiles and flowing dresses, learning where the fork goes. Well, that wasn’t what Deb had in mind, and it wasn’t what she made happen, every day of the summer, for a number of New Orleans’ girls (and even some boys). Instead, Deb created a place where young people would charm themselves – learn to be proud of themselves, and experiment with their own creativity. Through lavish affirmation, she helped young people see that they could sing, dance, sew, write poems, speak in public, you name it. If you created it, it was good, just because it came from you. Deb’s two daughters (in college for professional dance) and her son, a drummer, worked with her at the school. Inspired by Deb their whole lives, they channeled the love they’d receive to every young person who walked through those doors. The school was also a place of learning. Each day, Deb gathered the young people in a dialogue circle. She gave them readings and posed open questions to provoke their thinking about everything from what they put in their mouths, to what they let come out of their mouths.
The school was also a place of learning. Each day, Deb gathered the young people in a dialogue circle. She gave them readings and posed open questions to provoke their thinking about everything from what they put in their mouths, to what they let come out of their mouths.
One day when I joined the school, I sat in that circle unable to wipe a smile off my face.
In a world, a country, and a city where race tension holds us all back, these black and white youth were forming and exchanging opinions openly. Deb used a dialogue approach (well-sequenced learning tasks) to bring these individual adolescents into a trusted group. In their weeks of summer “break,” they were learning more than many have the opportunity to ever learn at school.
Last week (August 2007) I sat, again, in Deb’s presence, unable to wipe the smile off my face. I was singing and swaying with hundreds of other people – standing room only – at Debbie’s joyful funeral. When you entered the church, you heard the Praise Team, a group of women with voices to fill your soul. They were the ultimate facilitators – making it easy for everyone of us to sing praises, despite our collective grief over missing dear Deb. We clapped and shouted in agreement as one person after the next took the microphone and talked about Debbie’s special ways. Inspiring, hard-working, creative, dedicated, devoted, patient. Deb was the kind of person who carried high expectations of herself, and of every person she met. In Deb’s eyes you are all a child of God and, for that, you deserve opportunity, respect, and praise.
Deb Howard first became connected to Global Learning Partners and the field of Dialogue Education in 1999. Learning to Listen, Learning to Teach was a mandatory course for all of the staff and trainers of the New Orleans Jobs Initiative (NOJI) – a program to prepare low income people for success in the workplace. Deb was a natural dialogue educator. She wove together fantastic, motivational preaching with supportive, patient teaching. She became one of NOJI’s first – and most respected – instructors. At her funeral, we all cheered when Rev. Marshall Truehill recalled how one of New Orleans’ top employers was brought to tears at the visible transformation of men who graduated from the NOJI program. We all appreciate Deb’s special gifts as preacher and teacher.
I left the funeral as I leave this short homage to Deb Howard – in hopes that we all hold onto high expectations for ourselves and for every stranger we meet.
With love and respect,
Val Uccellani
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