Monday, April 28, 2008

Sometimes, in It Sinks.

Well, the countdown has begun - for both the students, and the teachers. With less than a month of school left, war weary from the battles and victories in the classroom, both I, myself, as the teacher, and my students that I teach, have settled into an understanding of each other; it's quite lovely to watch their interaction with me, but even more special is their interactions with each other, and how their dialogue has been influenced by how I talk to my students. Yes, along with their learning, learning how to be decent to each other, sinks in, too.
I've seen a few examples of this decency, and it is touching, whether the humanity seen within the classroom is directed toward another student or me. One example that was especially poignant happened only but a week ago. There was a student in the room who was sporting a redhanded look based on something that happened. It was an awkward moment within the classroom, and I wondered how it was going to play out the following day because it involved another student who was affected by the behavior. Well, as Scarlett intimated, "tomorrow is another day," and sure enough, the sun rose on it. Class had begun, and all the players arrived. Before the second bell had rung the clarion call of the start of class, the one student asked to speak privately--outside of the class--to the student affected by his behavior, and I was so impressed by his manly behavior of addressing the issue. Both students returned a few moments later, and as the students like to say, it was "squashed." No theatrics, no posturings of violence, it was just settled as two, young men worked it out with each other. I was so proud to see it, as when I am addressing an issue with a student, I will always take him or her outside to the hallway, so that it does not become the showdown at the O.K. Corral in Scottsdale.
At the start of this school year when I did this, I do not think it was clear to the students as to why I chose to speak to them outside. They saw it more as an embarrassment because they felt themselves being singled out. I find, though, that when I speak to them calmly, and explain my reasoning, it not only rubs off on them, but sinks into them, too. Too see them, then, internalize this behavior, and model it themselves is a great accomplishment.
Frequently, in the classroom, I see the happenings within it as a series of "washes." One has good days, bad days, and everything in between those two points. What was a complete loss one day when dealing with a student, can turn into a victory the next by discipline, or by further communication. Again - the idea of "washes." However, when I see a student show decency based on something he or she sees in class, it is not just a victory, but a victory of both the battle and the war. As a society that's become desensitized to violence, to brash words that show a lack of dignity, and to too familiar language that would make anyone blush, it is validating to see young students practice the art of a kind humanity.
Even more beautiful is seeing a student practice kindness because of love for one another. On the very same day the sun rose on the two students settling the issue, a good friend of the student who could be seen as the transgressor, expressed his solidarity to him by going up to him, putting his arm around him, and having a good talk with him while in a half-embrace of support. And that is when, as a teacher, I am reminded of the inherent goodness of each of my kids. At that moment, in it really sinks.

Sunday, April 13, 2008

"'[A]y, there's the rub'" (Hamlet).


"Compared to all the forces tearing apart the larger world, the destruction of American education may seem a minor matter. But it looms large in my small world and, I think, in yours" (Yatvin 363). And if this statement, quoted from Joanne Yatvin's speech in Research in the Teaching of English, from an address she delivered at a NCTE convention does not move you, perhaps it will after considering the following discussion.

The speech from Yatvin delineates the breakdown of the American educational system, and how it seems to have become an issue similar to the magnificent elephant that is in the living room that no one is brave enough to acknowledge.

As I drive past schools within Phoenix, I am always taken aback, as I see big, lurid banners professing the labeled school as "excelling." For those not in the know, there are now labels the government has put in place to make schools accountable (sadly enough, the latest trend in education is to put all the accountability on the school and teachers within it; however, accountability on the students themselves, seems to be lacking). Ranging from "failing" to "excelling," it always reminds me of the exploitation of our educational system, which is being swept up by initiatives that do no work, and a "selling out" in the most promiscuous of ways: let's not be concerned with the fact that this craze to "making the grade" has less to do with actually ensuring the educational system is serving our kids, and more to do with a quick "bandaid" on the eyesore that is really festering. And the eyesore, as I see it, is that the schooling system within America has fallen mercy to political correctness, and a spinelessness brought about by educational notions that say the system needs to be "sensitive" to the kids in order to avoid "damage" to their esteem. Combine this with an enervation of a disciplinary structure that disciplines unwieldy students, and one can most assuredly smell that something is fishy in the state of Denmark.

And, obviously, this weakening of our educational system does not stop at making kids accountable for their behavior. Of course not. It insidiously sweeps into their learning, and the teachers' pedagogies. If you are a teacher, throw away any confidence or training that you have been taught, because the government has superceded anything you might know as valid for a program that is sure to fail. Yatvin elaborates, as she realistically explains the issues of the initiative, "No Child Left Behind:" "Underlying the creation of NCLB is a profound mistrust of schools and teachers, concealed by the term 'accountability" (368). This mistrust has completely taken the teacher out of the learning equation. And because of this, teachers, and therefore, students, fail to see the importance of tests that do not connect with any of the learning that is, indeed, going on in the classrooms across the nation.

All of this is a hard, educational pill to swallow. As a teacher, it is hard to accept the degeneration of a schooling system which is supposed to engender a love of learning and knowledge. As more teachers leave the profession of teaching en masse due to these very reasons, I leave you with a poignant statement espoused by Yatvin: "Our students, our colleagues, our knowledge, our ideals, our profession; these are our loves. Be true to them all" (372).

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

While Reading "Macbeth," "Screw your courage to the sticking-place, and [you'll] not fail."

One of the most quoted and seminal poets of our time is Shakespeare, a man who is solely responsible for infusing today's language with 1,600 phrases, and is the only known man in literature who has an Elvis Presley reputation: the King has his name, and Shakespeare has his - the Bard. Why, then, does a man who has such an infinite knowing of the human psyche instill fear and dread in his readers? If you are a high school student, or if you remember your high school days, reading Shakespeare was about as fun as getting a root canal, although, in most cases, sadly, the root canal would be preferred. For the sage that said in "Macbeth," "'Sleep no more! / Macbeth does murder sleep ...'" (531), it would probably come as a surprise to him that many students think he, himself, has murdered any fun in the high school canon. Students just think that Shakespeare is b8%$ng (I can't bring myself to type out the accursed word). Why are students so circumspect in digging into Shakespeare like anyone of his gravediggers that besprinkle his plays? His words are the things that make reading him in high school have such a sting.
Yes, many would be surprised to find out that as archaic and intimidating as Shakespeare's words may sound, they are still considered modern language. I'll wait for the suprised gasps to end ... that is right. If you were to follow the timeline of the English language (God bless it!), you'd find that old English doesn't even look like anything that resembles what we know of today as English. Considering this, it is easy to put in perspective that as foreign as it may sound to some ears--especially ears of the high school kind--that Shakespeare's language is, indeed, modern English. But the sting also comes not just from the words, but from the fallacious thinking that Shakespearean plays are just not that interesting. The human spirit is a mystery, and the high school spirit is even more confounding.
Being a high school teacher in the depths of "Macbeth" with my students, I've had a chance to probe them about why they are so reluctant to appreciate the play, and they are hard-pressed to come up with any redeeming qualities about the work itself. However, they also do not see the connection between the universal ideas that Shakespeare espoused, and the very same ideas that they find in contemporary movies and books of today. They would rather read The Outsiders. And granted this book does have some great plot, students fail to realize that the plots are even juicier and more titillating in "Macbeth," and other plays as well. So, as a parent who might be frustrated with the lack of enthusiasm your child has of his schooling, what suggestions can be offered to you?
Some of the suggestions I have are to be a bit as devious as the villainous Macbeth. Even though I've found the kids proclaiming their boredom from here to Verona--where we lay our mutinous scene--a little encouragement and accountability on their parts go a long way. In school, my success has been in getting the kids to do the thinking in cooperative groups, and then make a game out of their answers. I randomly assign numbers, and when the number is called, the person assigned those numbers stands up, and talks about the answers the group came up with in their assignments. Because it's an arbitrary assigning, the pressure is alleviated, and the encouragement from the teacher puts them in a productive, and most importantly, open state of mind so that they can appreciate what they used to denounce.
If students regularly get those assignments that put them in the thinking "hot seat," and if it is done in a way that encourages a friendly learning environment, they wouldn't be so "brainsickly" in nature to Shakespeare's genius. It would do Lady Macbeth proud.