Wednesday, April 28, 2010

difference

I no longer believe the old saying that you can learn something from anything. I now think, given the intense relationships and connections that exist everywhere, that you can learn anything from everything. (Ayers, 2001, p. 83)

The above quote in chapter 4 of To Teach, “Building Bridges,” struck a chord with me. Ayers goes on to say that the trick is to probe deeply and thoughtfully - that we as teachers “need to find ways to follow [knowledge] where it leads.” (2001, p. 83) While I hope to not romanticize or oversimplify Ayers’ words inappropriately, this concept really appeals to me, especially as it pertains to building bridges between cultural differences. Ayers once again provides us with appealing curricular possibilities. For instance, I see definite possibilities for a rite of passage exercise. I think a well-designed activity could be both an exploration of self and a centering influence in a time of flux for young adolescents.

That said, I must admit to a certain uneasiness as I read about Zayd’s own coming-of-age ceremony. It felt uncomfortable to me that he seemed to be co-opting another culture’s tradition and putting his own “spin” on it. I’ll admit that Zayd could well be Native American, his ethnicity is not mentioned in the chapter. When reading, however, my feeling was that he was not Native American. If by chance one of his classmates were, I wonder how Zayd’s activity would have been received. As a compliment? After all, Zayd found the Native American tradition inspiring enough to adapt to his own ceremony. As an insult? As an abuse of something sacred and personal? Would Zayd’s attempt be seen as akin to a white man in a headdress and makeup portraying a Native American on television? It reminds me of a story about the Dalai Lama, who was approached by a woman taken with Buddhist philosophy but who considered herself a Christian. When she asked him if she should convert, the Dalai Lama told her that she should simply be the best Christian she could.

The danger I’m seeing in the above example, I believe, is the seductiveness of the “other.” Our own heritage, traditions, and cultural artifacts may seem mundane and boring to us, but another’s heritage, traditions, and cultural artifacts may seem exotic and alluring. Many would willingly abandon their own cultural accoutrement for the tantalizingly new tradition. While doing so could perhaps be viewed as form of compliment to the tradition being adopted, there is also a very real risk of simply reducing the other tradition to a novelty. When the tradition becomes trivialized in this manner, it’s devalued, something to be tried on and discarded at will.

Ayers touches on these concerns when he talks about Christmas. In an effort to be inclusive, Ayers first incorporates Hanukkah in his classroom. Soon thereafter, Kwanzaa is “discovered.” Then the pagan rite of Winter Solstice celebration, followed by Three kings Day, then Epiphany. Pretty soon a smorgasbord of holidays is on the agenda, and “the treatment of culture as curiosity, a people’s story as a token gesture,” (Ayers, 2001, p. 79) becomes a real possibility that must be consciously avoided.

Along these same lines, I am also wary of cultural groups co-opting the hate language used against them. I didn’t always feel this way. At one time I was highly supportive efforts such as co-opting the word “queer” when referring to gays and lesbians. It made sense to me that taking the word away from the bigots who hurled it as epithet stripped it of its invective power and transformed it into an empowering rallying cry. While I still believe this to be true to some degree, I am not sure anymore whether this value is enough to overcome the inevitable confusion over its proper use. Can a heterosexual sympathizer use “queer” with confidence? The line of acceptability is very blurred. I believe the confusion is even more apparent with epithets co-opted by African Americans, such as the “n” word.

I could be totally off base with these thoughts, but I felt the need to articulate them. Perhaps I see pitfalls I’m particularly determined to try and avoid. However, this chapter din't just give me concerns. As I touched on at the beginning of tis post, it also gave me inspiration. While Zayd’s individual experience made me a little uneasy, the general idea of a coming-of-age project or something similar is very appealing to me. I was also very interested in Ayers' ideas about involving kids in a study of their own community. His idea of using “trips, interviews, mapping, comparing, following leads, [and] exploring the complexity of a community’s life” to study, appreciate, and bridge difference really attracts my attention.

Those kinds of “at hand” experiences - the ones that really provide meaning for students by asking questions about their own lives - can provide the needed context for kids to begin to appreciate one another for who each of them are. Like Ayers says, it provides a way for students to explore difference not merely as other cultures existing “out there,” but to see and cultural issues that exist “in here,” in one’s own classroom. Related to this were his ideas about studying cultural stereotypes. In particular, I really liked the idea of naming three groups one belongs to and exploring one negative attribute given to that group. While Ayers exercise was structured for college students, I believe it could be tweaked to work in a younger classroom. Again, Ayers has given us good food for thought. I hope I become the kind of teacher who builds bridges, probes deeply, and follows the knowledge of the world where it leads me.

Ayers, W. (2001). To Teach: The Journey of a Teacher. New York. N.Y. & London: Teachers College Press.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

seeing students, classroom caring

When we teachers look out over classroom, what do we see? Half-civilized barbarians? Savages? A collection of deficits, or IQs, or averages? Do we see fellow creatures? (Ayers, 2001, p. 28)

Since I finished this week’s assigned reading - chapter 2 of William Ayer’s To Teach - a while ago, I sat down this morning to refresh myself on its content. As I did so, I was struck by the parallels between Ayers discussion of “Seeing the Student,” and this week’s readings for my Middle School Learners class, which centered on caring classrooms. One quote from these readings was “[E]ducation must focus on teaching all people how to live in an inclusive community where each person is treated with respect and dignity and enlisted to participate fully in the life of the community.” (Beck & Malley, 1998, p. 137) This and similar emphases ran throughout the readings. As Ayers discussed finding ways to engage students as whole persons, I recalled similar sentiments such as a particular passage which discussed how academic success is often difficult to achieve without ensuring students’ emotional and social well-being first.

To me, these kinds of thoughts dovetail nicely with Ayers assertion that we must strive to defeat the impulse toward deficit education - that “brainstorm[ing] a list of deficiencies” and then creating “a curriculum to correct these deficiencies” (2001, p. 29) is a destructive policy that strips individuals of their value. Focusing on correcting the deficits of our students grants educational strategies a distinct negative stance and says nothing about what students “know or care about,” or their “temperament or disposition of mind.” (Ayers, 2001, p, 30) Without knowledge of our students as whole persons, how can we incorporate a culture of caring in our classrooms? We run the risk of transforming students into checklists, marking success with an “X” in the box next to each insufficiency. As Ayers reminds - while not dismissing the real needs for students to learn certain skills - such a strategy only succeeds in making one feel rotten about one’s self.

In fact, in uncaring classrooms - such as might be created by transforming students into “to do” lists, - learning actually suffers. When students are seen as the sum of what they cannot do, when the fear is an inability to “measure up,” the result is too often exclusion from “participation in substantive academic interactions.” (Gay, 2000, p. 53) Ayers entreats us to construct an image, through careful attention and analysis, of our students as whole persons. He reminds us to base our observations “in many dimensions at once: intellectual, cultural, physical, spiritual, [and] emotional.” (Ayers, 2001, p. 33) When we have such a view of our students, learning both occurs more holistically, but also more deeply. When our students ‘ complex personal character - whether caring, patient, problem solving, or what have you - isn’t subsumed by his or her deficits, new approaches evolve, expectations are raised. As Gay writes, shifting focus toward caring supports strong academics: “[P]erformance expectations are complemented [by] uncompromising faith in…students and relentless efforts in helping them meet high academic demands.” (2000, p. 76)

One complaint I hear about this strategy of meticulous observation in order to “know the full measure of your students” (Ayers, 2001, p. 33) is that teachers simply don’t have enough time. In a classroom with 30 students and a packed curriculum, how do you manage to carefully observe each child’s individual interactions and document them carefully so you can compile a good composite later on? I’m not sure there’s an easy answer to that question, although Ayers suggestion to jot a short journal entry at the end of each day is probably one starting point I’ll attempt. I do believe that his strategy is an effective one and the effort, worthwhile. Without having been in a teacher’s shoes, however, it’s impossible to condemn an individual teacher’s conclusion that it can’t be done.

Classroom strategies suggested by Ayers really impressed me. Some of them may even suffice as a kind of response to objections based on time constraints. Some of his activities would be fine substitutes for a sociologically-styled pencil and notebook approach to observing students. For instance, one of the activities he suggests is teaching students how to interview one another, then giving them a microphone and a recorder and letting them have at it. All sorts of fascinating or even troubling insights could come from an exercise like this. You could learn that a student wants to be an astronaut or that one has an abusive home life. Both could frame your future interactions. Ayers is correct, in my opinion, when he concludes that “[w]hen teacher’s value their children’s opinions and experiences, children begin to think more openly, and we begin to see them differently.” (2001, p. 42)

Another great idea that I just loved was bringing in a “cultural artifact” from home. Selecting such an object would be a deeply personal choice for each student. As a result, knowledge of each individual student, of what’s important to him or her, and even of his unique culture, would all be divulged as the presentation of each object unfolded. This activity, in addition to being of enormous value to the teacher in gaining a sense of each of his pupils as persons, would also be of enormous value to the classroom as a whole. Activities like this help create a culture of caring in the classroom - they help students expand their worldviews to incorporate difference. Individuals also feel “validated…stronger, more able.” (Ayers, 2001, p, 42)

In all, I very much enjoyed Ayer’s chapter “Seeing the Student.” I believe he strongly advocated for and defended the notion of treating our students as the whole persons that they actually are, not just with weaknesses, but with unique strengths as well. I believe that by trying to incorporate some of the strategies outlined by Ayers in our classrooms, we can not only formulate a sense of who each of our students is a human being, but simultaneously foster a strong cooperative climate of caring in our classrooms. These dual strengths - creating positively attributed students who care about each other, will also help create a learning atmosphere capable of great academic achievements by its members. My hope is to become the kind of teacher who is able to see past the students’ deficits and deficiency- centered teaching and incorporate some these great ideas.

Ayers, W. (2001). To Teach: The Journey of a Teacher. New York. N.Y. & London: Teachers College Press.
Beck, M. and J. Malley (Fall 1998). “A Pedagogy of Belonging,” in Reclaiming Children and Youth, p. 133
Gay, G.(2000). Culturally Responsible teaching: Theory, Research, and Practice. New York: Teachers College Press.

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

ideas

All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware. - Martin Buber

Last week, Jane asked me a couple very good questions about methods and quantifying knowledge. I’ve thought about it a bit, and have a few ideas. First I’d like to talk a little bit about “showing how narrow a range of learning is actually captured in tests.” I was fortunate to finally receive a book by Diane Ravitch last week, titled The Death and Life of the Great American School System. I’d been on the library’s waiting list quite a while for that one! I think that the exposure her book has gotten coupled with the fact that she’s a powerful figure in the world of education whose views about "accountability" have undergone a dramatic reversal will do wonders to shed light on the narrow range of learning captured in tests. The fact that her book seems to have wide appeal - I was three hundred and something on the library’s waiting list when I signed up - will help many outside of academia realize that we chose poorly when we decided to prescribe methods that focused narrowly on teaching to tests - and only to two tests, reading and mathematics - at the exclusion of everything else, and prescribed standardized testing as a measure of schools’ success or failure.

Treating education as if it were a business, placing undue emphasis on top-down management of schools, choice, and accountability, has not worked. In fact, in Texas, classroom methods devolved into a curricula that simply taught to the test, teaching skills such as strategies to use when answering multiple choice questions. This raised test scores, and Texas was seen as an impressive success of No Child Left Behind (NCLB). However, students trapped in this accountability-centered abyss, when given a text to review, were incapable of writing “a thoughtful response to a question that asked them to present evidence from what they read.” (Ravitch, D., 2010, p. 108) Drilling for and succeeding on the tests became the overriding educational goal of schools in Texas - and all over the United States similar patterns emerged. Students in an elementary school in Annapolis performed impressively on the state assessments - teachers assiduously practiced skills such as how to answer questions likely to appear on the state test. This achievement was at the expense of general knowledge, though, and students “lacked the vocabulary and general knowledge to succeed in high school.” (Ravitch, 2010, p. 109) As Ravitch describes them, they were trained, not educated. If public opinion hasn’t swayed against this undue emphasis on testing by 2014 - when 100% proficiency is mandated and we will definitely have not achieved 100% proficiency unless standards are lowered - at that time minds should certainly start changing, in my opinion.

If we hope to achieve success in turning American public education away from "assessment," we’ll have to have thought out and considered alternatives. The Buber quote I opened with is apropos of how I feel we should approach education. Knowledge is the disclosure of the previously undisclosed and we can't imagine all we might discover. I was asked in last week’s blog post, “[H]ow is it that teachers can articulate a richer understanding of what students like [Kelyn] *are* learning and why those things are important for the children and for the world that they'll eventually lead?" I think there are many different ways to quantify what our kids are learning (I’ll add that I think it’s unlikely that standardized tests are quantifying what kids are learning, even though that’s what they purport to do). Tests could be structured so that critical analysis of what one has learned is evaluated - short answer and essay tests immediately come to mind, but other “tests” come to mind, perhaps a multimedia presentation, or a skit, or even a model. Our recent readings in Jean Eisele’s class that talk about multi-ability classrooms suggest another possible alternative. Group learning could be structured around individual strengths, and assessments could be made based on kids’ ability to help their fellows grasp the concepts related to their “expertise.” Multicultural classrooms could have children teaching their peers about their cultural individuality, such as their cuisine or their traditions. As Oakes & Lipton point out, “complex, realistic, multidimensional assignments and projects” enable children to “discover and combine their particular strengths with areas where they are not strong or lack experience.” (2007, p. 173) At any rate, any and all methods of assessing knowledge should be particular to what’s being learned and as much as is practicable, to the individual learner. This could mean offering the learner the opportunity to demonstrate what he’s learned in the venue/medium he’s most confident in.

The second half of the above question - why is this knowledge important - is addressed, I believe, in last week’s Dewey reading for Jean Eisele’s class. Before I discuss that, however, I’d like to proclaim my belief that NCLB-style education hasn’t demonstrated to our kids why the knowledge we’re handing out is important. Our system of so-called accountability has stripped knowledge of its context and what we’re producing is adults who can’t relate what they’ve learned to real world situations. We’ve seen examples of this throughout our readings, such as in a story of graduates who cannot see the direct connection between a learned mathematical principle and its real world application. We’ve created a strong dichotomy between knowledge, which is treated as esoteric, and application, which is often seen as of secondary importance. This leads us back to Dewey’s premise - still valid after over 100 years - that we learn what we do. How do we make knowledge important to our kids? Contextualize it to their experience. As Dewey stated in My Pedagogic Creed: “If we eliminate the social factor from the child we are left with only the abstraction.” (1897) he further states that “school must represent life - life as real and vital to the child as that which he carries on in the home, in the neighborhood, or on the playground.” (1897)

If we give our kids an education grounded in their reality, we’ve taken the first big step in producing intelligent adults able to make real life connections and with the ability to make moral and ethical choices. Where does this ability come from? When we teach to our context, we are encouraging our kids to develop critical thinking skills as they apply their knowledge to and make informed judgments about our larger world. We’ve imbued education with relatability - which shows cause and effect, incorporates a diversity of experience, and illuminates connections between individual and knowledge.

Dewey, J. (1897 January). “My Pedagogic Creed.” School Journal vol. 54, 77-80
Oakes, J. and M. Lipton (2007). Teaching to Change the World. Boston: McGraw Hill.
Ravith, D. (2010). The Death and Life of the Great American School System: How Testing and Choice are Undermining Education. New York. N.Y.: Basic Books

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

the sun rises in the brazen sky to shine on mortal men

"I know that I celebrate a kind of teaching that is exceedingly rare. I know that becoming an oustanding teacher is an heroic quest: Like Odysseus one must navigate turbulent and troubled waters...on the way toward an uncertain reward." (Ayers, 2001, p. 10)

In the first chapter of To Teach, titled "Beginning, the Challenge of Teaching," William Ayers calls us to evaluate what a decision to teach really embodies. Ayers analyzes obstacles in both thought and practice, he dispels myths, and he articulates some characteristics of good teaching. He sets out in a manner that really appealed to me - giving examples that highlight the importance of finding something of value in students. I was so impressed to hear about the young student, Kelyn, who found in his "difference" a source of pride. However, nurturing whole students like Kelyn, possessing healthy self esteem, means that we can't construe teaching to be simply the act of disseminating prescribed knowledge through instruction. This fact is easily overlooked. In recent years, such great emphasis has been placed on the successful transfer of prescribed knowledge from the teacher's curriculum-focused lesson plan to the students' brains - and then quantifying that knowledge through standardized testing, that is hardly surprising that important roles of the teacher have been neglected. Additional roles are required to create whole learners - modeling, listening, and interacting, to name a few that Ayers highlights.

Shifting our focus from content to method adds more dimensions to teaching. While it creates new challenges for the teacher, it also grants additional, sometimes immeasurable, rewards. "Teaching is spectacularly unlimited," Ayers reminds us (2001, p. 5), and this reminds me of why I chose to pursue teaching. To paraphrase Ayers, I chose teaching because I love what happens to me when I'm with children in the classroom, because I love watching them open up and grow, because I want to be a part of shaping and touching the future. Understandably, I believe, I got a little depressed when I read what came next - all the reasons not to teach, all the unfavorable attitudes we'll face, all the real challenges placed on teachers. I'll confess to something. Twenty years ago I would have laughed at the notion of becoming a teacher. When someone said to me "Those who can, do, those who can't, teach," my reply was, "Hear, hear." How opinions change! Even so, I grew a bit downcast as I read through his list - teachers are seen as intellectually deficient, teachers are seriously undervalued by society, teachers are paid a pittance, and on and on. Yes, yes, I know. Let's get on to how we can effect change! I was glad when he finally got to the part about teaching still being a powerful calling.

In the section on myth-dispelling, Ayers thoughts really struck me, especially in a few specific sections. One instance is when he discusses "Myth 4: Good Teachers Always Know the Materials." (2001, p. 12) The statement that "[m]any fine teachers plunge into the unknown alongside their students," (Ayers, 2001, p. 13) couldn't be a clearer articulation of one of of the reasons I chose teaching. The excitement of sharing in discovery with my students is a particular thrill. There's an almost indescribable elation that comes from discovery - and there are always new things for everyone to learn. Another myth that really stood out is that quality teaching can be measured through testing. The primary reason this myth stood out is because it's commonly, and frequently, cited as truth. In fact, it scarcely seems possible that there could be more emphasis placed on testing than there is today. Ayers isn't the only author to try and dispel this myth. Others, including Berliner & Biddle in my "Context of Learning and Schooling" class reading this week, "The Manufactured Crisis," refute this - even Diane Ravitch, proud endorser of the "No Child Left Behind" act, seems to have changed her mind. Yet the myth persists. I find myself wondering, why? Just yesterday, a new coalition to promote teacher contract changes rooted in so-called teacher performance, was reported on by NPR. Have these folks - "Communities and Parents for Public Schools" - read the research, or, at the very least, talked to any teachers? The persistence of this myth confounds me.

Ayers gave me a lot of additonal things to think about in this chapter, but I'll wrap up here by talking about his "ethic of caring," since I think it's some of the most important advice to heed. For Ayers, everything about teaching seems to boil down to love for the student. If our first priority is the student, if our first commitment is to the students' well-being, then the kinds of learning and types of learning environments required to foster empowered learners like Kelyn will follow. As Ayers states, the teacher that chooses to embrace "the 'difficult matter of moral choice'," (2001, p. 21) chooses, "to do something that enables the choices of others, that supports the human impulse to grow." (2001, p. 22) Though this choice entails difficulty, and as hard as holding my "own experiences as tentative...and open to question," (Ayers, 2001,. 22) may be, this is the kind of teacher I'd like to be. I believe this approach to teaching is will reap the "deeper, more lasting, and less illusory" (Ayers, 2001, p. 24) rewards.

Ayers, W. (2001). To Teach: the journey of a teacher. New York. N.Y. & London: Teachers College Press.

Monday, April 5, 2010

thoughts on the lenses through which we view education

Whenever we choose to examine education - its purposes and intents, for example - we cannot discern anything uncolored by context. Our experiences and perspectives leave an indelible mark on our psyches; marks which influence our opinions and our priorities. For myself, on examining the list of perspectives from which we view education - “developmental, psychological, pedagogical, political, policy, historical, social, economic, cultural, and ethical” (Van Galen, n.d., p. 2) - I am immediately struck by how much these different approaches overlap one another. It may be impossible to get a clear view of what the political lens reveals without also considering the economic lens, for example. We must additionally acknowledge the biases our personal experiences have imprinted on us with regards to both politics and economics. From this starting point, while we can find common ground and begin to address some of our “big” questions about education, we must stand ready to revise our thinking and embrace change in the future. Values change, contexts change, new priorities are discovered. In this sense, our lenses reveal a kaleidoscopic range of perspectives and truths about education.

For me, our context does not merely color our opinions and attitudes with bias - though they challenge us to be mindful of other points of view, not all of our experience and opinions are negative. Our context is a valuable and important element that any workable solution should be grounded in. Dewey believed that “we learn what we do,” (Postman & Weingartner, 1969, p. 17) - a belief mirrored in McLuhan’s assertion that medium and message are one and the same. These thinkers instruct us to remember that the environment in which learning is conducted is at least as influential, at least as important as the content. As Postman and Weingartner remind: “[T]he critical content of any learning experience is the method or process through which the learning occurs.” (Postman & Weingartner, 1969, p. 19) In my opinion, realizing the enormous power that where we come from, who we are, and where we stand have on big overarching questions like “What knowledge is of most worth? Who decides?” (Van Galen, n.d., p. 3) is very important to keep in mind.

We cannot expect the answers to our questions about education to come to us as Platonic forms or Golden Rules that will magically transform education into an incorruptible ideal. Our answers will alternately be brilliant and bad - both messy and mutable. The questions will always be before us, with at least one question, courtesy of Jane Van Galen, that we should continually reflect on as educators: “Did I do the right thing?” (n.d., p. 5)


Postman, N. & C. Weingartner (1969). Teaching as a Subversive Activity. New York. N.Y.: Delacorte Press.
Van Galen, J. (n.d.). Lenses [PowerPoint slides]. Retrieved from http://www.bb.bothell.washington.edu/

Thursday, April 1, 2010

a poem to begin

[As once the winged energy of delight]

As once the winged energy of delight
carried you out over childhood's dark abysses,
now beyond your own life build the great
arch of unimagined bridges.

Wonders happen if we can succeed
in passing through the harshest danger;
but only in a bright and purely granted
achievement can we realize the wonder.

To work with Things in the indescribable
relationship is not too hard for us;
the pattern grows more intricate and subtle,
and being swept along is not enough.

Take your practiced powers and stretch them out
until they span the chasm between two
contradictions...for the god
wants to know himself in you.

- Rainier Maria Rilke