"But what if the purpose of schooling in a democratic society is not simply to transmit and reproduce the knowledge and culture of the present order but to evaluate social an political practices according to principles of democratic ideals and, further to equip students to become active agents in the transformation of society"(2)? Sounds like "literacy with an attitude."
Finn pointed out that all teaching is political,and it is the controversial nature, not the political nature, of topics that make teachers fret. Confirming this August suggests "the political nature of teaching ...reveasl itself in the wake of cognitive and affective consequences of exclusion" (2). Being in a classroom each day lends itself to many of these "teachable moments" that August examines. --On Friday I was reviewing the school's activities and clubs list with my advisory students, when one male student voiced some interest in a dance activity, a female student said , "A boy on a dance team? That is so weird." When I questioned her about this, and mentioned the prevalence of males in dancing, she said, "Well, like hip-hop is okay for boys, but ballet? That is different. It is just weird!" -- I could help but think of this situation when Zeke danced like a ballet dance in front of his class. Now maybe the students were laughing simply because their teacher looked silly dancing-but none of the boys initially danced this way, and the girls did. This changed the next time. As I continued to discuss the "weirdness" with this student I realized convincing her to assess her opinion would be more complicated than having a male do a few pirouettes for her.
While these conversations might look a bit different in elementary school than they do in high school one thing remains the same, "social safety offer[s] a platform for [verbal campaigning] (137). Even students as young as those in Zeke's classroom recognize the insecurities of difference and the safety of belonging to the culture of power. August calls for "Dynamic dialogicality, the interweaving of underrepresented or unrepresented voices in emergent talk and activity, proved a powerful tool for building a democratic classroom in which students exercised agency in the context of multiple, even competing, perspectives" (166).
Silence and good intentions keep showing up...
SILENCE: Cody, the boy who exists outside the culture of power, is silenced. Although Zeke's dialogical approaches in the classroom have helped Cody voice his discomfort in many situations, he is still silenced about one aspect of his life. In this case it is not because people are refusing to listen, but because even as a young kindergartener Cody had already figured out that difference is a source of ridicule and rejection. The classroom, his education, is, and needs to be, working to reverse this silence. His voice, like the silenced voices of those not in the culture of power that Delpit mentions, need to be a part of the discussion.
GOOD INTENTIONS: "[Johnson] explained that democratic life requires more than good intentions" (144). When we let these teachable moments pass us by it is usually because of the "real time, real distractions, and real pressures" (174) we are faced with as teachers. This idea of good intentions has been raised in previous articles, all suggesting that good intention simply aren't enough. We must lead students in the direction we want the world to head in. August credits Zeke with "forging these paths...that might help our democracy reach for the stars" (144).
Much like educators can't settle for good intentions, we can't let our students do this either. This study made me think of the recent campaigns to end the use of the r-word and the efforts against the use of "gay" as an insult or admission of disapproval.
Many times when I have discussed these campaigns with students, I am met with their good intentions excuse: "But I am not trying to be mean when I say it" or "I would never say it around a gay person" or my personal fav, "I know a gay person, so I can say it." I respond to the first one is much the same way Zeke addresses Derek's pajama comment-- you my not mean to be unkind, you may not have even known you are being unkind, but now you do. The latter excuses lead to a discussion much like the one that took place when Shiloh created her own version of Chinese and a student suggested it was not okay because someone in the class "may be that country" (151). The conversations get a bit more sophisticated as students age, the content may be more complex, and sometimes the monological thinking may have been strengthened over the course of the student's 15 or so years prior to being in a high school classroom, but fostering dialogicality, taking advantage of emergent opportunities, as well as creating ones, to help students understand the impact of their decisions and encouraging them to evaluate them to "move in the direction of democratic practice" is relevant across grade levels.
I remember hearing frustration from some parents when my high school started offering breakfast to students each morning. I heard my friend's father say, "The school is really ensuring that parents don't have to do anything anymore! Why are we making it so easy for parents to evade their responsibilities?" We acknowledge the community's, and specifically the parent's role, in the success of school children, and we recognize that there is an absence of this role in many districts. When is it the school's job to take on some of the so called "parental roles"? Last week we talked a lot about the extent to which our school are educating students with the skills to compete in the global economy. The skills that are measured by standardized tests; the ones that deem schools performing or under performing. But what is the school's role in character education? To what extent does our current system align with Nodding's recommendation that "educators [should] strive to 'encourage the growth of competent, caring, loving and lovable people''(5)? Should it? At what point does it become the school's role to impose moral education?
"Caring relations also provide the best foundation for moral education. Teachers show students how to care, engage them in dialogue about moral life, supervise their practice in caring, and confirm them in developing their best selves...What we learn in the daily reciprocity of caring goes far deeper than test results."
Nodding- Caring in Education 
Johnson's more-than-good-intentions directive you present as echoed August and Nodding seems to be an adequate answer to the question that closes your post.
ReplyDeleteSchool is the place where the "what" of reading, writing, and arithmetic gets transmitted by the "how" of Nodding's caring relations. If a teacher teaches the subject in a caring way, the student will feel the care even more strongly than they feel the material.
The students will pick up on the humanity of the teacher and that will become the primary vehicle of their understanding.
I'm glad you brought up the question of the purpose of schooling. I was thinking about it as I was both reading and blogging. It is a dilemma that I struggle with all the time. On a small scale, it often comes in the form of whether or not I should accept late work. Is it more important to teach students responsibility or to make sure they've practice whatever skill the assignment is suppose to teach? On a larger scale, it is the perpetual tug of war between engaging students in meaningful conversations about real life issues and making sure I prepare them for their final exams, MCAS, college, etc.
ReplyDeleteIf we choose not to support our students in the ways they need support (breakfast) then we do a disservice to them-not their parents. It can be difficult to think that we (teachers) are taking on another role-yikes, but in the big picture, if that breakfast every morning helps my student to grow and develop into a well-rounded individual then I am all for it.
ReplyDelete"Being in a classroom each day lends itself to many of these "teachable moments" that August examines"
ReplyDeleteTeachable moments are great when we have the opportunity. However, I am not convinced that many of the teachable moments Zeke encountered were coincidental or manufactured.He does have a very good way with his diologicality though. I love the way he is very matter of fact with the way things are. I am surprised the kids didn't push him more for an answer. When my kdis were little, they never let up.