Two For One: Colorblindness vs. Color Insight / The System vs. Revolution

*Originally, I had planned to integrate my reading of Armstorng/Wildman and the Ferguson Syllabus, but as I started writing, the two ideas went in separate directions. I guess it's two posts for the price of one...hope that's okay!*

Are we just giving away more umbrellas or are we trying to stop the rain?

I am so grateful Dr. Bogad turned our attention to this question during our discussion of Johnson's Power, Privilege, and Difference. This analogy has been so helpful for me in framing my reading and thinking about the social and cultural issues surrounding our classrooms and our worlds. As I read "Colorblindness is the New Racism," I was immediately reminded of umbrellas and rain when the authors said, "exclusion from some specific opportunity . . . becomes the focus of antidiscrimination language, without an explicit examination of how or why the beneficiaries of privilege obtained their position" (p. 64). For me, it seems like the authors are saying that it is not enough to merely notice that others don't have umbrellas to protect themselves. The authors continued, "Failure to examine the privileged status diverts attention from noticing and analyzing the advantages conferred by white privilege and renders any ensuing discussion of racial discrimination incomplete" (p. 64). I think the authors want the conversation to turn to how umbrella owners got those rain shields in the first place.

Of course, noticing others' lack of an umbrella (deficit thinking) is much easier than acknowledging where others' umbrellas came from. And hiding the process of umbrella procurement (as Delpit would agree) "obscures the operation of privilege, thus aiding in its perpetuation" (p. 64).

Working in a virtually all-white school, it is easy to shelter away from the issues of race that are more prominent in other more culturally diverse environments. It is easy to be colorblind. Colorblind is the norm. However, I agree with Armstrong and Wildman that "identifying and understanding whiteness should be an essential component of education in the United States" (p. 65). As I mentioned before, I am beginning a unit on analyzing informational and literary texts, centering on the topic of immigration. The stated objectives are for students to be able to read multiple sources on a topic, identify a central theme that is conveyed through both, and write a short informational text in response. But I don't think this is enough.

The readings this week helped clarify my underlying objective. What I really want is for students to be able to explain how their personal experience impacts their opinions about immigration. I want students to begin developing an awareness of their position on the "power line" (p. 71). I want students to recognize that their position can work to both limit and broaden their view of the world.

I really loved that the authors included activities for color insight, but I need to be able to adapt these for my much younger audience. And I have so many questions...Is this a developmentally appropriate goal for sixth graders? Am I forcing my perspective on my students? How do parents feel about this?

Ultimately, I know that this conversation needs to happen because as we were working through our pre-reading discussion, debating whether it is easy to fit in to American culture a student said, "Yes, it is. We have a plain culture." And other students are basing their opinion of immigration to America on brief vacations they took to Central and South America. I saw how easy it was for students to notice others' deficits, and I want them to recognize where those beliefs are coming from. It seems like color insight is part of this goal.

***
Before reading the Ferguson syllabus, I started with PBS's Timeline of Events in Ferguson. I feel like I didn't follow the news as closely as I should have in August, so the Newshour blog had a decent collection of videos, pictures, and social media postings to fill in my gaps. As I was reading, though, I kept wondering why so many people continued to protest for so long despite the actual police brutality and threat of military force. I like to think of myself as strong and a fighter for what's right, but I know a big part of me is rooted in a fear of authority and consequences. I can't say that I would be found night after night in this crowd.













Despite my uneasiness, I began to explore the syllabus and was immediately drawn to "Stealing a Bag of Potato Chips and Other Crimes of Resistance" by Victor Rios. It addressed my question exactly. And I was reminded of Herbert Kohl's  article "I Won't Learn from You". In both, the authors discuss the idea of resistance as an identity, as a path to agency and dignity. This is always a difficult concept for me to understand. As a person who often takes comfort in structure and adhering to rules and guidelines, willfully disobeying is rarely an option that enters my consciousness. I have the privilege(?) of successfully(?) creating an identity that fits within the dominant structures of society.

So as I returned to writing and including the above picture in my post, I noticed that the man in the center's shirt says, "The system has no future for the youth. The revolution does." I really like that shirt as a reminder of the systemic issues that need addressing. I have question marks in my previous paragraph because I don't know that it's a privilege or a success to fit in to the dominant structures of society. What else could revolution offer to everyone? 

Am I Silencing the Dialogue?

"The Silenced Dialogue: Power and Pedagogy in Educating Other People's Children" -Lisa Delpit

Though I can't remember when I first read "The Silenced Dialogue," I do remember feeling defensive at Delpit's criticism of the process teaching movement...and it's parallel to the alienation and miscommunication experienced by students/teachers of different cultures. I hadn't imagined how my goal to minimize the appearance of my power and create what I thought was a more equal space in my classroom might have a negative affect on some of the students in my classroom. The problem is that I do have power that must be acknowledged, not just softened away.

The argument that really brought this to light for me was her example of the way a teacher might "veil" her commands in the form of questions: "Would you like to sit down now?" (p. 36). I was very guilty of this type of interaction as a practicum and student teacher and still guilty of this now. Of course, I am not actually offering an option to the student in a case like this. I do expect that the student will respond to a question like this by immediately sitting down. And as Delpit proposes, "my indirectness and soft-spokenness...[were] an attempt to reduce the implication of overt power in order to establish a more egalitarian and non authoritarian classroom atmosphere" (p. 36). But I am realizing how ineffective this type of command is - not just for students of color, but students of all types, including those with Asperger's who have difficulty understanding social cues.

My defensive reaction and focus on the instructional methods on my first reading a few years ago is much more complex now after completing my degree and a full year of teaching. Also, the recent explosion of "no excuses" charter schools is another launch point of discussion. I think some could read Delpit and attempt to use her work to argue for these regimented systems that value highly structured routine and rigid behavior expectations. They might say that they are providing the student with the "rules" (p. 25) of the culture of power by making the expectations so clear. Or they would tout their "belief that all students can learn" that they set a "standard of achievement [usually college for all] and push the students to reach that standard" (p. 35-36).

Unfortunately, I wasn't able to find any sources that shared Delpit's own words about these schools, but I and others, including some teacher researchers at the University of Colorado can imagine that her emphasis on listening to the voices of the marginalized would not actually fit with the stiff philosophy of these schools.  As she says, the teacher is not the only expert in the room. Blind adoption of direct instruction is not the way to go. Rather, we must actually hear with eyes and ears, hearts and minds if we want to make education better for all.

*For some reason, my links are working within my text, so here is a blog that tracks much of  the history of the "no excuses" movement: http://edcommentary.blogspot.com/p/no-excuses-charter-movement.html.

Also, here is a link to a study by teacher researchers at the University of Colorado who discuss the tensions of teaching in schools serving predominantly poor children of color with a history of low educational achievement: http://www.colorado.edu/education/sites/default/files/attached-files/Whitcomb%20et%20al_Living%20in%20the%20tension.pdf.

"Privilege, Power, and Difference"...in the Classroom

Before coming to Rhode Island College as an undergrad, I considered myself a tolerant person. I went to a diverse high school, had friends from different backgrounds, and had a sense that I was "lucky" in terms of my life circumstances - a middle class white teenager with two college graduate parents, a home my parents owned, a part-time job at a pizza shop, a reliable car, and a savings account. Looking around the city and experiencing various life occasions with my friends (birthday parties, proms, graduations, etc.), I knew not all was equal and I did what I thought I could to help (gave rides, spotted money, etc.). However, with other people I didn't know so well, I often assumed that some of their less-than-ideal circumstances were the result of choices they had made, rather than thinking about the systemic injustices (and my relationship to them) that may have led to those situations. 

My college experience definitely changed the way I think. I have grown so much from my time in the Emerging Leaders program (with Tina!), reading Peggy McIntosh's "White Privilege: Unpacking the Invisible Knapsack" during Writing Center tutor training, participating in diversity workshops as a Resident Assistant, and of course from applying critical lenses to the readings in my education/English classes. Johnson's ideas in "Privilege, Power, and Difference" are not necessarily new to me, but his writing is a really powerful reminder of how our thinking influences our actions. Now, I have the language to name that "lucky" feeling that I had as a high schooler. I recognize that some of my fortunes are connected to others' misfortunes. I have a better view of the way in which societal structures sort out differences.  

So, although I don't work in an urban school where differences in power and privilege between teachers and students are often most pronounced, I am still responsible for recognizing and taking action against the inequalities that exist. After all, there are certainly privileges and power naturally associated with the role of teacher. As we mentioned during our first class, teaching is always political. Teachers can decide the texts that are read and those that are skipped. Teachers can say whose voices are heard and whose are silenced. Teachers model what it means to be an "educated" person. They play a role in shaping the minds of young people. 

Regardless of the community in which I teach, my goal is similar to Johnson's: "the purpose is to change how we think so that we can change how we act, and by changing how we participate in the world, become part of the complex dynamic through which the world itself will change" (viii). I became a teacher because I think education is important. In my classes, I hope to develop critical thinkers who can do something about privilege, power, and difference, and make the world a better place. 

The texts for my first unit revolve around the topic of immigration and migrant workers with The Circuit, so I am definitely curious to see how privilege, power, and difference will emerge in our discussions...

Movin' on Up

Hey everyone! I’ve had this blog for while now...I charted my adventures from practicum, student teaching, and my first year as a 7th grade ELA teacher in Coventry. Next up is my journey as a 6th ELA teacher in Jamestown and a 1st year grad student in the ASTL program at RIC. I’m really excited to be teaching at a small school and learning with a small cohort along the way. It is so easy to get caught up in the negativity of standardized testing, new curriculum, state mandates, and administrative expectations, so I knew being a student again was what I needed to do to stay positive and become the best teacher I can be. I know, it does sound a little crazy to add more responsibilities to my plate to stay sane, but having a community to explore with and support my growth is worth it.

When I am not planning lessons or reading student writing, you can find me running...hot or cold, rain or snow. Some days it is my thinking time, some days it is my social time, some days it is my get dressed up like a crazy person time.

I don’t always feel great with my feet pounding the pavement, but I always feel so much better after than I did before. The endorphins get me every time. Running also makes me notice. I love to collect the odd items on the street that have been trashed or left behind - like a pine cone arrow and a bow made from a stick.

The other thing that always makes me feel better after a tough day is a Soul Pancake binge. As the name suggests, they make videos that warm you from the inside, like a good, fluffy pancake. Here are a few of my favorites!

Happy reading...and watching!

The Sound of Poetry

Every morning at the RIWP Summer Institute, we write. We arrive, greet one another, grab a snack, set a time to return to the table, and settle into a new or favorite spot with our handmade journal and pen. Sometimes we get a prompt, but recently there has been no direction. This is liberating, but as someone who has always been good at following rules, this can cause major writer’s block. My best writing is usually what I HAVE to write - because it’s something itching to get out and be processed or when an audience needs something from me. This is why reflective writing and analytical writing are my strengths.

Poems and stories, not so much.

I shared this tendency of mine with a friend in the SI and he reminded me that I should use this class as an opportunity to push myself and do things I wouldn’t normally do, including writing in genres that I’m not as comfortable with.

So yesterday, when I wasn’t sure what I wanted to explore, I sought some inspiration in poetry. I figured I could find a quick poem and write a brief response. But the friend’s voice popped into my head and told me I should try to write some poetry myself. Which scared me. I’m not a poet. My metaphors are all cliche. I want to be authentic, not seem like I’m trying too hard. Which sent me back to student mode. I was good at school because I was able to imitate the writing of others. I could see the structure and adapt it to my needs. I used mentor texts before I knew what a mentor text was...and before Kelly Gallagher wrote a book about it. Despite my self-induced panic, I realized what I had to do.

I scrolled through my Twitter feed and found the link to The Writer’s Almanac, a website that publishes a poem and some literary facts every day, and found “The Sound of Sunlight” by Todd Davis. His poem’s lines were short and I liked the idea of defining something (the sound of sunlight) by something other than itself (the sound of a wren singing or a coyote hiding, etc. - considering sunlight doesn’t actually make a sound). I read through the poem a few times, and basically played madlibs. I retained the structure and the parts of speech, but replaced the nouns and verbs to hack Todd’s idea into my own. We only had thirty minutes, so this is what I drafted:

The Sound of Poetry

On the far side

of the classroom

pencils

are scratching

over one

paper

like feet

running

to chase

a ball.

A reluctant student

releases

a sigh

while another

stops

mid sentence

before flipping

to a clean sheet.

As we descend

into our thoughts

we look

down

onto

milky

memories

and witness

the shadow

of a moment

chase

the moment

itself.

Behind us

in the courtyard

where we gaze

each snowstorm

the fall

of the flakes

amplify

the sound

of poetry

and allows us

to write

in a flood

of inspiration.

Regardless of the quality of the poem I created, I am really glad I pushed myself to do this. It’s so easy to stay comfortable and do what you’re good at, but I was reminded of how my students feel when they are assigned a task that is challenging or seems like more than they want do. By imitating the structure of the poem, I paid way closer attention to how it was constructed and have a much better appreciation for the author’s work. I made more meaning from the poem by the time I finished writing than I would have if I had just glanced over it once and answered a few of my teacher’s questions about it. I was reminded of the importance of just putting an idea into another person’s head. As a teacher, you never know how a gentle word or two might inspire a student (or colleague). Also, I am really grateful for the feedback I received from the group, reminding me that I wasn’t just “stealing.” I wrote a poem that only I could write.

March Madness

March Madness is not just a catchy alliterative name for the NCAA basketball championship season. It’s a real thing  that teachers (everywhere?) are experiencing. This eight week stretch from February vacation til can’t-get-here-soon-enough April vacation has been trying for everyone, and as a new teacher, all of these ups and downs are especially arduous.

Last year, as a student teacher, I left my high school placement and started my middle school placement halfway through this stretch. I was feeling confident after a successful run at the high school and looking forward to the new connections I’d make with my 8th graders. When I arrived at the middle school I barely knew the students and wasn’t always privy to all of details of the issues the team faced. The “madness” I experienced was learning 100 new names, planning a fun six word  memoir lesson, and finishing up my work sample.

This year, it’s not so pretty. It’s been over 100 days with my darlings - and over 100 days of them with each other. Do I need a break to catch my breath and renew my spirit? Yes. But I think they need it more.

The incidents of bullying in the classroom, in the hallway, in the cafeteria, and online have shocked me. I don’t want to believe that my students are involved in this vortex of name-calling, threats, and physical violence. It is disheartening to hear the stories of events at home and not knowing the best way to proceed other than informing the other professionals at school and making a plan. I worry so much about the choices the students make when they think no one is looking or that no one cares. I worry so much about the circumstances the students are involved in where they have no power or opportunity to change the situation.

We at schools do the best that we can with the resources that we have, but, undoubtedly, things - and people - fall through the cracks. When I spend so much time working so closely on a behavior plan with one student, I spend less time ensuring that the needs of the other students are met. How do I balance this in order to be the teacher that each of my students’ needs?

Well, one of the perks of teaching in a middle school, is that there is a team of teachers consistently interacting with the students and also consistently meeting to discuss those students. I am lucky to have common planning time every other day. Also, once a week, that time is strictly devoted to RTI where we identify the students in need of further intervention, create a plan to address those needs, design a way to collect data, and then analyze that data together to determine adjustments.  Now, we are starting to see some of those benefits of that hard work for those selected students - which feels very rewarding.

And these little successes are what I will be trying to keep in mind over these next nine days. It’s way too easy to get overwhelmed by March Madness and drown in all of the work that hasn’t been done. I will remind myself that I am also only one person. My job is not to fix students - it’s to create opportunities for them to learn and become better versions of themselves. Even if the situation at home is less than ideal, if I create a safe environment in my classroom with clear expectations and positive interactions, then I am  doing what’s best for all kids.

Dear Dr. Cook

Dr. Cook -

What do you mean? I don’t believe it. This can’t be right.

Confusion. Disbelief. Emptiness.

These thoughts and feelings rushed through me when I was told about your sudden and tragic passing.

As the numbness sank in my heart, my fear of not showing gratitude toward the people I love rose up.

Does she know that I go back to my Practicum notebook to read her inspirational one-liners? Does she know that I gained amazing friends from my student teaching experience? Does she know her kind words on my own writing now inspire kind words on my students’ writing...especially when I am at the bottom of a towering stack of papers?

I knew I needed to honor what I learned from you and not waste another moment keeping my feelings of gratitude to myself. So, I “assumed the power to do what I know” (a favorite quote you shared with us) and decided that my students and I would write letters to the people we appreciate in our lives.

At first, I wasn’t sure whether I should tell the students about what prompted this activity. I worried about the tears that might fall as I stood in front of them and shared my memory of you, but another favorite professor reminded me that I could make this a teachable moment. By sharing this mournful experience, I was showing them a real way to handle grief. I explained that writing through pain may not be everyone’s go-to method and that’s okay. What was important was trying out the process and using writing as a way to connect with other people. In true Writing Project style, we began with brainstorming and drafting, and worked our way from sharing just a few words on the first day all the way to entire letters by the end of the week.

Then, on Friday, since I wasn’t grading the students’ letters (many of them requested privacy since they were writing about such personal topics), I had the students write letters of reflection to me. From the total silence during writing time (which is usually a rarity) to the requests for more time to share with the whole class, I had the sense that most of the students enjoyed the process. However, I wanted to see for myself what they were taking away from the experience. As I read through these letters to me, I noticed a few patterns.

Some students recognized the process and the difference that audience makes:

-“To be honest, writing a letter to someone directly makes writing so much easier.”

-“I think it was hard to think of things to write but I realized it comes from the heart.”

Some students recognized the power of writing for their own lives:

-“I especially loved the purpose of this. They really help you to become more appreciative.”

-“Writing that letter to my best friend was a really healthy process for me.”

-“In a way I felt relieved.”

Some students underestimated their future potential:

-“I do not plan to write any more letters because I am not that nice of a person.”

But most importantly, so many students were thinking about the other person’s reaction:

-“We got to make other people smile and we got to express ourselves.”

-“My friends always joke that I don’t have a heart or that I’m soul-less. And well that’s because sad things or happy things don’t really affect me. I like how it was to show someone you appreciate them. I hope that my recipient will be happy and excited to read my letter.”

-“The way my mom reacted was giving me a nice big hug and it almost seemed like she got a little teary eyed.”

-“I liked it because people don’t always know how you feel about them and it cheers them up when you remind them.”

-“To me the thing I enjoyed the most while writing it was the thought of the person receiving it being happy.”

Honestly, my main objective was for my students to feel better about something in their own life, but they clearly exceeded those expectations with the empathy they showed for others. This empathy - the ability to recognize the emotions of another person - was your hallmark. You listened and validated. You comforted and encouraged. You were a caretaker of the human spirit.

A friend and I reminisced about how we would wait to talk to you after class, even if we didn’t have anything significant to say, just to feel heard and have you  say our names.

For this you will be truly missed.

Thank you for the life you breathed into me and my students.

Peace,

Brittany