This book seems to be almost a case study (of a particular group instead of an individual) of the importance of culturally responsive pedagogy. Making a case for it with the demographic Tatum does is particularly convincing because the stakes are so high for black males in certain neighborhoods. But I wouldn't argue--and I don't think Tatum does--that other students are any less deserving or in need of the same type of instruction as black males; that is, all students respond best when instruction is appropriate, meaningful, and comes in an environment of care and respect.
I also appreciated that Tatum does not argue that literacy alone will save anyone. It's a tool, or a necessary but not sufficient condition, but it's still up to individuals to make choices and use it.
29 October 2007
22 October 2007
Beers
I have to say I really enjoyed this book. First of all, its informal style was a nice change of pace. But more than that, I liked how this book empowers teachers. The last two years I taught, my school had been taken over by Reading First, which is the antithesis of teacher empowerment. They tried to sell us on their fancy little palm pilots, which were oh so helpful as we hit the stop/start button on the DIBELS program.
Anyway, my point is that, as we all know, teachers have less and less power because we are trusted less and less. Hand-in-hand is this notion that all kids are the same and learn the same. One of my favorite things about Beers' book was how she kept writing, "No, this is not for every kid. Most kids don't need this!" Implicit in these statements is the trust and belief that teachers will take the time to know their students, and tailor instruction individually.
I also kept thinking as I was reading how much (if not all) of what she was writing seemed so......familiar. Even those this book is for middle and high school teachers, I think it would be incredible useful for elementary teachers, too. Even if the strategies aren't appropriate for the little ones, the underlying philosophies in the book are universal--teachers make a difference, knowing your students, and viewing students positively instead of the deficit perspective, for example.
Finally, not only would this book help teachers of all age students, it would also be nice if content area teachers read it, too. I remember one time I was at an area (Dallas ISD was divided geographically into "areas") staff development, where school teacher-leaders met together vertically. So, I was in a meeting with the language arts reps from the middle and high schools my school fed into. As they were commenting (read: whining) about how their students couldn't read, I was foolish enough to suggest that they work with the content-area teachers to help teach some strategies. "Oh, honey, you look young. 'We are all reading teachers'--we hear that stuff every 20 years or so. You just wait; you'll see.'" Well, that was frustrating because a) Duh! and b) That doesn't take away from the validity of the point. If nothing else, the chapter on vocabulary would be good, (along with just the general philosophy of the book, as noted above).
Anyway, my point is that, as we all know, teachers have less and less power because we are trusted less and less. Hand-in-hand is this notion that all kids are the same and learn the same. One of my favorite things about Beers' book was how she kept writing, "No, this is not for every kid. Most kids don't need this!" Implicit in these statements is the trust and belief that teachers will take the time to know their students, and tailor instruction individually.
I also kept thinking as I was reading how much (if not all) of what she was writing seemed so......familiar. Even those this book is for middle and high school teachers, I think it would be incredible useful for elementary teachers, too. Even if the strategies aren't appropriate for the little ones, the underlying philosophies in the book are universal--teachers make a difference, knowing your students, and viewing students positively instead of the deficit perspective, for example.
Finally, not only would this book help teachers of all age students, it would also be nice if content area teachers read it, too. I remember one time I was at an area (Dallas ISD was divided geographically into "areas") staff development, where school teacher-leaders met together vertically. So, I was in a meeting with the language arts reps from the middle and high schools my school fed into. As they were commenting (read: whining) about how their students couldn't read, I was foolish enough to suggest that they work with the content-area teachers to help teach some strategies. "Oh, honey, you look young. 'We are all reading teachers'--we hear that stuff every 20 years or so. You just wait; you'll see.'" Well, that was frustrating because a) Duh! and b) That doesn't take away from the validity of the point. If nothing else, the chapter on vocabulary would be good, (along with just the general philosophy of the book, as noted above).
17 October 2007
15 October 2007
I think this is what I meant
Sapphire says she wrote Push to put a face on those supported by welfare, those a part of that system. Because of that, it matters that she knows of what she writes, because she's attempting to open a window into a specific life experience. She is not just trying to strike chords of universal human experience, or general themes we all share. She does that, too, but her stated purpose is to speak for a specific group. To men, her own experience legitimizes the work in a way that it would not be had someone from outside written it.
Another question I thought of: this book could be viewed as more than a work of fiction or a piece of art; depending on how far you want to to take Sapphire's stated intent, it could shifts into a piece of propaganda. Although that word has negative connotations, propaganda isn't inherently a bad thing. (I guess; I'm not sure I agree with what I just wrote.) The worst propaganda, though, is the kind that's dishonest, that distorts the truth so people will be swayed to one position over another. Propaganda's purpose is manipulative in any case, so I think that at its best, the picture it paints needs to be as honest, accurate, and true as possible. Purposely manipulating people is already scary ground, so if that is one's intent, it needs to be done with the clearest intentions and the fairest of portrayals. Otherwise, it exploits readers' empathy and humanity.
Propaganda (Merriam-Webster)
2: the spreading of ideas, information, or rumor for the purpose of helping or injuring an institution, a cause, or a person
3: ideas, facts, or allegations spread deliberately to further one's cause or to damage an opposing cause; also : a public action having such an effect
Another question I thought of: this book could be viewed as more than a work of fiction or a piece of art; depending on how far you want to to take Sapphire's stated intent, it could shifts into a piece of propaganda. Although that word has negative connotations, propaganda isn't inherently a bad thing. (I guess; I'm not sure I agree with what I just wrote.) The worst propaganda, though, is the kind that's dishonest, that distorts the truth so people will be swayed to one position over another. Propaganda's purpose is manipulative in any case, so I think that at its best, the picture it paints needs to be as honest, accurate, and true as possible. Purposely manipulating people is already scary ground, so if that is one's intent, it needs to be done with the clearest intentions and the fairest of portrayals. Otherwise, it exploits readers' empathy and humanity.
Propaganda (Merriam-Webster)
2: the spreading of ideas, information, or rumor for the purpose of helping or injuring an institution, a cause, or a person
3: ideas, facts, or allegations spread deliberately to further one's cause or to damage an opposing cause; also : a public action having such an effect
14 October 2007
Thoughts on Push
I guess I should start with my initial response to the book, a la Rosenblatt. I sort of went back-and forth between feeling its poignancy and wondering how realistic it it, because if it's not realistic, it isn't poignant. I guess I should clarify what I mean by realistic. I certainly believe that people must live through childhoods that Precious and the other girls at her school did. I suppose I found myself wondering if truly, in real life, a life could be found in the way Precious found hers. I want to believe it is so, and I do, really, or I wouldn't have become a teacher. Still, for every Precious, there are many more girls and boys who don't find their voice. Even caring teachers can miss opportunities. Teaching secondary school, you have 5-7 classes a day of around 30 students; how well can you know each one of them? Even the most well-intended teachers may miss important stories, the context that is each of our lives. This makes me wish that we had lots and lots more schools and teachers so we could have really small classes, and regular schools could be more like Each One Teach One. But typing that makes me think, not everyone needs a school like EOTO--but we still don't have enough for those who do.
Anyway, the main, main thought I had as I read was how important it is to know your own story. At first I was thinking how Precious' teachers needed to know her story, so they could help her, and that is important, but I think really, what mattered most was that she knew it, claimed it. Ms. Rain gave Precious the opportunity for this to happen, through time and encouragement, and because she believed in her. And Precious certainly had other advocates and help, such as Ms. Rain's boss who knew someone who was able to get Precious into the home in Harlem instead of Queens. But none of this help would have mattered if Precious did not know her story, which is to say, her self.
An aside: Ms. Rain telling P not to worry about her 2.8 grade level reading score because she still had plenty of time contrasts so sharply with schools controlled by testing, where there isn't time for someone to find her voice and herself.
Anyway, the main, main thought I had as I read was how important it is to know your own story. At first I was thinking how Precious' teachers needed to know her story, so they could help her, and that is important, but I think really, what mattered most was that she knew it, claimed it. Ms. Rain gave Precious the opportunity for this to happen, through time and encouragement, and because she believed in her. And Precious certainly had other advocates and help, such as Ms. Rain's boss who knew someone who was able to get Precious into the home in Harlem instead of Queens. But none of this help would have mattered if Precious did not know her story, which is to say, her self.
An aside: Ms. Rain telling P not to worry about her 2.8 grade level reading score because she still had plenty of time contrasts so sharply with schools controlled by testing, where there isn't time for someone to find her voice and herself.
08 October 2007
Can Louise and T.S. be friends?
Several weeks ago, for reasons that aren't important here, I enrolled in a UT Odyssey course about Modernism. I was drawn to it because the description said that participants will be reading The Waste Land, which is my all time favorite piece of literature (even though I don't get 90% of the allusions). I will have to suffer through a Hemingway, too, bless his heart, but since this is a continuing ed class, I don't actually have to read that one if I don't want to.
Anyway--and yes, I realize I am INSANE--this class starts Wednesday night. It's led by an English department faculty member, and based on our talk about Rosenblatt, I'm curious to see how responses and interpretations will be handled, whether our responses will be a starting point or not.
I'm going to talk my experience in this class in my blog, as it's sort of an attempt to experience and analyze "English class" all over again.
Good night, ladies, good night, sweet ladies, good night,
good night.
Anyway--and yes, I realize I am INSANE--this class starts Wednesday night. It's led by an English department faculty member, and based on our talk about Rosenblatt, I'm curious to see how responses and interpretations will be handled, whether our responses will be a starting point or not.
I'm going to talk my experience in this class in my blog, as it's sort of an attempt to experience and analyze "English class" all over again.
Good night, ladies, good night, sweet ladies, good night,
good night.
RTP, Rosenblatt
I appreciated Rosenblatt's continued effort to put her theory into the context of other theories and schools of criticism. This helped me better understand how paradigm shifting it was, why it was resisted in certain circles, and why it was embraced in others.
Because I love irony, I want to focus my initial comments here on what Rosenblatt says about the text. I was especially interested in her description of it as both open and constrained. This idea allows one to get to the heart of Rosenblatt's theory, instead of over-focusing on the reader's initial (perhaps) emotional response. The text is open in that the reader in selecting, probably unconsciously, those words that will help him make sense of what is read, but it is constrained in that interpretations must be supportable with the text.
I also wanted to say a little bit about Rosenblatt's concept of selective attention. In my opinion, this describes not only a literary transaction, but how we all perceive and live in the world. This is why it makes so much sense. We've all heard things like, "She only hears/sees what she wants to," and "perception is reality." We are hard-wired to filter out things that don't fit into our matrix (as Rosenblatt might say), and to respond to things that do, so that our experiences often reinforce existing beliefs. So it makes sense that we do this as we read, being drawn subconsciously to words and even forms that evoke quite particular feelings and images.
However, I was also really interested in the idea (p. 56) of a text perhaps--I would argue definitely--embodying codes of the author, so that during a transaction there are "two sets of codes, two sets of values" (p. 56). I may be reaching here, but it sort of reminds me of a Q&A Kevin Smith did a few years ago (captured on DVD) in which a young female college student tried to call him onto the carpet for a statement that one of Smith's characters made in Chasing Amy. Smith responded that he can't be responsible for how every single person interprets the line, or anything else in his movies. He's laying it out there, and he explained his intent in using the line (and how it was used), but he argued that each viewer will have his own understanding. So the scene in the movie was laid out with Smith's "codes" but as each person views it with his or her own "codes," different understandings are reached.
Because I love irony, I want to focus my initial comments here on what Rosenblatt says about the text. I was especially interested in her description of it as both open and constrained. This idea allows one to get to the heart of Rosenblatt's theory, instead of over-focusing on the reader's initial (perhaps) emotional response. The text is open in that the reader in selecting, probably unconsciously, those words that will help him make sense of what is read, but it is constrained in that interpretations must be supportable with the text.
I also wanted to say a little bit about Rosenblatt's concept of selective attention. In my opinion, this describes not only a literary transaction, but how we all perceive and live in the world. This is why it makes so much sense. We've all heard things like, "She only hears/sees what she wants to," and "perception is reality." We are hard-wired to filter out things that don't fit into our matrix (as Rosenblatt might say), and to respond to things that do, so that our experiences often reinforce existing beliefs. So it makes sense that we do this as we read, being drawn subconsciously to words and even forms that evoke quite particular feelings and images.
However, I was also really interested in the idea (p. 56) of a text perhaps--I would argue definitely--embodying codes of the author, so that during a transaction there are "two sets of codes, two sets of values" (p. 56). I may be reaching here, but it sort of reminds me of a Q&A Kevin Smith did a few years ago (captured on DVD) in which a young female college student tried to call him onto the carpet for a statement that one of Smith's characters made in Chasing Amy. Smith responded that he can't be responsible for how every single person interprets the line, or anything else in his movies. He's laying it out there, and he explained his intent in using the line (and how it was used), but he argued that each viewer will have his own understanding. So the scene in the movie was laid out with Smith's "codes" but as each person views it with his or her own "codes," different understandings are reached.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
