Entry # 27:
When the suburbs are threatened,
suddenly we have a problem
A bunch of sociologists met in Philadelphia this week to compare the differences
between the random acts of violence that have become a largely suburban
phenomenon and the "routine" urban violence in our city schools.
There's something about this characterization and the response to it that
disturbs me.
It's almost as if the cumulative effect of all our urban losses doesn't
qualify as a tragedy. It sets up an almost competitive dynamic about where
the bigger, or more important problem lies. It makes it painfully clear
just whose lives are truly valued in our society.
I'm sure lots of people will think I'm overreacting here, that I'm being
way too sensitive, but isn't the loss of any child's life a cause for our
concern? When the media and the public react in shock, and the stories lead
with "in this quiet middle class community", I feel my stomach
begin to tighten.
Don't get me wrong. I'm appalled by senseless violence anywhere. I empathize
with the parents, teachers and students in those well-to-do communities,
but what about the violence in "our" schools? What about the ongoing
scourge of inequities that city kids face daily?
A disrespectful system
According to today's Inquirer, it's the poverty and fundamental imbalance
in our system that sets the stage for the "saving face" and "searching
for RESPECT" that leads so many of our kids to acts of violence. We
are locked into battles amongst ourselves by an essentially disrespectful
system that pits our kids against each other and all too often against us
as well.
The conference attendees said that urban students are more focused in their
anger and frustration. They retaliate against this or that individual in
their efforts to survive and maintain their position in an increasingly
unstable social hierarchy.
The article spoke about a young man, who "got in an administrator's
face" because his geometry class had no teacher. The student was suspended,
but the class is still without a teacher. The student responded inappropriately,
but how can we excuse the school's failure to supply a teacher? Would this
be allowed in suburbia?
According to the "experts," we are floundering in a sea of change
where increasingly large numbers of our population are being left behind.
Think of it as the digital divide carried to its logical conclusion. It
starts out with schools, homes and communities that are ill equipped for
the information age, and ends up with still greater numbers of unemployed
and unprepared citizens.
All of this can be projected, expected and accepted. What is seen as shocking
and unacceptable isn't this horrific reality for the majority of our children
of color; rather, it's the departure from the norm in affluent communities.
When kids who have it all, kids who really do embody the American dream,
resort to violence, then that is seen as cause for our collective concern.
I'm troubled by this all-too-real assessment of our urban public school
children as dispensable. I'm angry about this view of their potential, this
implicit rating of their relative value as members of our society.
We must gain more understanding about our students
As a young, working class female, I was brought up painfully short when
I had to face the fact that I mattered only to my family and friends. I
was protected from this awareness, this reality, until I was out of high
school. Since I really believed I could have it all, I was willing to jump
through the hoops that my teachers put in front of me. On the other hand,
children of color are robbed of their illusions of equal opportunity and
equity at a much earlier age.
I picked up an anthology today called "Growing
Up Poor" (Robert Coles, Editor; $19.16 at Amazon). This collection
of stories, poems and memoirs explores what it's like to be raised with
an understanding of your vulnerability, to be made continually aware of
your grim prospects. The dust jacket says that this volume "gives eloquent
voice to those judged not by who they are, but by what they lack."
I'm anxious to read this book to find pieces I can use with my peers to
try and help bridge the gap in our understanding of our students, and those
things that drive them and hold them back. I also hope some of this material
will help my students to find their own voice, their own sense of purpose
as they go through the motions of "doing school."
Maybe this book can help us begin to address the surface tension in our
schools over the lack of student engagement. Teachers are always ready to
talk about this problem, but the conversation usually gets stalled.
When I think about students' lack of motivation, I can't help but explore
the links between motivation and opportunity, curiosity and questions, questions
and challenges to a system that doesn't practice what it preaches.
My motivation, my own belief in what is possible, my sense of self-worth,
is inextricably bound up with a conscious approach to struggling against
the flaws in our system. It is only by acknowledging this reality that I
can remain energized and motivated. A failure to recognize this implicit
imbalance would force me to look for fault in either myself or my students
and their families.
We have to get real with our students
Perhaps this is precisely the trap that many of my peers fall into when
they feel hurt and bewildered in the face of our students, and their failure
to appreciate our efforts. Maybe lots of teachers still believe that everyone
has an equal shot at the brass ring, if they'd only try. Maybe our kids
think we're dimwits for believing in the "pie in the sky" platitudes
our curriculum often spouts.
So am I advocating cynicism? Not a chance. I believe in our collective potential,
but I know it will be a struggle. I believe in "teaching to transgress"
as author bell
hooks would say. I believe that we can use learning to move against
and beyond the boundaries that others would like to set for us.
Authenticating our curriculum, linking our tried and true lessons and skills
to our students lives is what I'm advocating. As we teach our kids about
the Civil War and Reconstruction and the wonderful efforts of Abe Lincoln,
we also need to address the fact that full equality has yet to be realized.
If we don't complete the picture, our kids won't buy it, so why would they
want to learn about it?
When we talk about the right to vote we must also address the shenanigans
of the most recent election, otherwise our words will sound mighty hollow.
I'm not talking about partisanship here, I'm talking about critical thinking
and empowerment.
If we frame our algebra curriculum as the front line of this decade's Civil
Rights struggle, we just might find that our students are more interested.
Robert Moses is doing just that in his book Radical
Equations and in his efforts to mobilize the Civil Rights community
and its supporters around this issue.
If we give our students stories and novels that reflect a diversity of experience,
we may find that they're as interested in Maya Angelou as they are in Houlden
Caulfield, but if we leave out the females and the students of color, we
are opting to leave our kids and all they have to offer behind.
It's time to retool our curriculum and scrap the old machinery, recycling
those parts for which we can clearly articulate a purpose. We can't teach
texts and skills just because it's always been done that way -- "that
way" is no longer relevant.
If we accept the status quo, we're in the wrong business
Not struggling against the inequities, not fighting for our students' rights
to equitable access, means agreeing with the limits, minding our manners,
and staying in our place. It means acceptance of the unacceptable. It means
educating them for unemployment.
When we start talking about lowering standards and not requiring algebra
for all "these" kids, who just can't seem to master it, we're
giving up and accepting the status quo. When we discuss whether "all"
kids really need all these graduation requirements, if they're not planning
on going to college, we're validating their perception that they don't really
matter in America. If we think it's ok for some kids to get diplomas and
others to get certificates of completion, what else should they think?
If we can accept these ideas, if we can live with these scary, but real
proposals, then I think we're in the wrong business.
Educate comes from the Latin word meaning "to lead." Teach
means to impart knowledge, and impart means to grant a part of something.
I guess it time for all of us who are teachers to decide whether we want
to be educators of all children -- or whether we will be satisfied with
the task of "imparting" an increasingly smaller "share"
of the learning to the children in our urban schools, a share that far too
many Americans see as sufficient for "our" students.
[Editor's note: Deb is co-moderator of the
MiddleWeb listserve.]
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