Recognizing Change

In one of my final classes this quarter, we were placed in the same small group of five students that we were in on our first night of class when we first met. What was our purpose? We were to spend about 20 minutes quietly reflecting on a poster we had designed together that first time, about what we felt the purpose of schooling was, and then we were to recreate the poster with any additions or changes we would like to make.

Reflecting on the original poster was quite revealing, as it clarified changes that had occurred in us. We had all been so proud of this poster, but now we thought we had gotten it all wrong. It was a picture of a huge tree with the roots being the subjects that children study: history, mathematics, science, reading, writing, art and music. At the time, we thought we were being creative and interdisciplinary in our approach. We had shown two children talking to each other using old fashioned tin-can phones, one while sitting on a tire swing hanging from one of the tree branches and the other sitting on a branch higher up. A big question mark rested on a different branch; a magnifying glass looking at a bug on another; and a paintbrush and musical note on another. At the top of the tree was a tree fort with a window looking out to a beautiful view. What was the problem? There were only two children, and they were passively talking to each other from a distance. The children were passive, and nothing about the children’s backgrounds was mentioned. We had a lot to change.

We began with the roots. We now realized that children bring their ethnicity, race, and family background to school with them. Those became our new roots along with their abilities, social class, culture, and gender. Then we added more children. Our small group was unified that we needed to make this an example of inclusion and interaction. A child was drawn sitting in a wheelchair painting the structure while high in the tree on a platform with the pulley in plain sight that made this possible. I drew several children that were in the process of building new additions to the tree. One was sawing a piece of wood on a sawhorse inviting others to “create” with him. The others were girls. One sat on a branch building a platform saying “join me.” Another was carrying a piece of wood asking “why?” and the other was carrying a hammer asking “where?” I also drew another child looking at some mathematical equations trying to compute the next step needed. Someone else drew a couple sitting on the top platform of the tree taking turns looking through a telescope.

Previously, though we had all talked about what would be in the poster, only one person drew it. This time, we all drew it. I am not skilled in drawing but it didn’t seem to matter to anyone. The goal was to draw different kinds of people and to show them actively learning both by asking questions of each other and working together collaboratively. We drew pink, purple, blue and green children of various sizes and abilities, and all of us were much happier with the revised poster.

Remember to play

William Ayers in his book, To Teach: The journey of a teacher, has continued to remind me that learning is not passive and that teachers should learn from their students just as students learn from their teacher. When I made the decision to go back to school in order to become a teacher, I needed to find a part-time job to help pay tuition. My oldest son suggested I seek work through a babysitting service online. Seeing this as being close to my career goal, I decided to take his advice. It has turned out to be an amazing opportunity. For one, it has encouraged me to play more. In fact, I now consider playing to be one of my greatest strengths as a baby-sitter. Whether playing board games, ball games or make-believe, I am becoming more creative again, and I think Ayers would approve.

Babysitting has also given me the opportunity to observe children in their home environment. One of my families has two girls. One is in second grade and the other in kindergarten. Sometimes the girls like to play school with each other while I am caring for their younger brother. They model what they have seen in their school. One becomes the teacher, and the other is the student. The main role of the teacher is to hand out worksheets to the student and then correct them after they have been completed. The teacher stands up in front of the student while the student sits at a table or desk to do the worksheet. I have observed that the coveted role is being the teacher and that the teacher is the powerful one in their role playing. Should I leave them play or encourage them to be more creative with their teaching and attempt something new? The good thing is that they alternate being the teacher.

A poem of self-reflection

In my class I was given the challenge of composing the following poem and enjoyed reflecting on some of the experiences from my youth. I am thankful for having had them and look forward to the new opportunities yet to come.

Where I’m From

I am from guitar lessons and sheet music,
From records and cassette tapes,
and Casey Treat’s top 40 on the radio.
I am from daffodils yellow and sturdy in the wind
returning each year in full force.
I am from evergreen trees,
tall and strong,
steadfast through the years.
From the weeping willow tree with its wide circumference
providing shelter beneath its leaves,
while I waited for the school bus.

I am from my grandmother’s crocheted doilies
and her embroidered frilly pillowcases.
I am from the large family Bible,
With its legacy of names remaining from years past,
I am from picture albums overflowing with pictures of long ago,
hopeful faces, enduring dreams
and long-term struggles.
I am from fried eggs sunny-side up,
sprinkled with salt and pepper.
From hamburger helper casserole and Campbell’s chicken noodle soup,
guaranteed to fight any cold.

I am from my dad’s renovated homes,
From sleeping in the attic in the heat of summer.
I am from climbing trees and neighborhood softball,
joining other children running through the sprinkler,
the sun warming my wet towel and body.
I am from favorite storybooks
like Curious George and Charlotte’s Web.
From posters on the wall and scrapbooks filled with
The Monkees, David Cassidy and Bobby Sherman.
I am from a family tree filled with English pilgrims and Irish immigrants,
whose legacy continues,
whose choices continue to shape my life.

Memories of Jeremy

It was my husband’s birthday, and we were on our way to celebrate at a restaurant a little ways further than we normally traveled to have lunch. Because I had several readings to do for my classes, I began reading one out loud to him as he drove. Normally, my readings are quite academic and, though interesting, not very emotional, but this one was different. It wasn’t very long before my voice could not continue because of the tears that were filling my eyes. To my surprise, this one was personal. “Holding Nyla,” by Katie Kissinger, was described as “lessons from an inclusion classroom,” but I had not known the social class of children it would be talking about was the handicapped.

Many years ago, in a previous marriage, my first son was born – severely handicapped. My husband had met him before he died and, understanding my emotions, waited patiently as I struggled to continue reading. Jeremy had a rare metabolic disease that left him unable to walk, or talk, or even sit up on his own without the assistance of a wheelchair. His feeding needs also required special training, as he often needed to be tube fed as he grew older. Nyla sounded a lot like Jeremy.

I have often told people that I am the person I am because of Jeremy. Before he came into my life, I had no previous experience with the handicapped. In caring for him, I realized that all people have worth. To the observer, Jeremy could offer nothing. People felt sorry for us as they watched me push him in his wheelchair and either watched his lack of response or observed his body contort as he had one of his daily grand mal seizures. What they didn’t see was the respect for human life that grew in me while caring for him. As Nyla’s teacher discovered while learning to care for Nyla, special-needs children often give more than they receive. Life is no longer as self-centered.

Isn’t that what teaching is all about? I did not decide to become a teacher to get others to serve me. A true teacher finds joy when helping meet the needs of others. I continue to miss Jeremy. He only lived four years, but the perspective I gained while caring for him continues to live on. As Nyla’s mother allowed her daughter to remain in the inclusion classroom after seeing the love and acceptance that had developed in Nyla’s classmates when they got to know her, the same thing happened to me. I watched my love and acceptance of Jeremy spread beyond Jeremy. I also discovered something else. We all have needs. Some are just more visible than others.

What kind of value are we talking about?

This week I watched a video of Sir Ken Robinson speaking at the Royal Society for the encouragement of Arts. Robinson had been awarded the 2008 RSA Benjamin Franklin medal and was speaking about changing education paradigms. He determined that the value of arts in our society is being determined by their economic potential and not their value to productivity. Art addresses aesthetic experiences and promotes creativity. Schools that eliminate the arts stifle uniqueness and leave students anesthetized by routine rote learning. Their dulled senses lead to unproductive individuals lacking originality, not the best to offer society.

Robinson went on to describe that society has lost the power of imagination. He illustrated this when he talked about divergent thinking - the ability to see different interpretations, or having multiple answers for the same problem. I liked his example of seeing how many uses one could find for a paperclip. An average person might find ten uses, whereas a genius like Albert Einstein might find 250 uses. It was most extraordinary, however when he revealed that there is a specific group in our society that are actual genius divergent thinkers - 98% of current kindergartners! The decline in divergent thinkers after kindergarten is a sad commentary of our current schooling structure. Between the ages of eight to ten, children were retested and the percentage of divergent thinkers dropped to 35%. Five years later it dropped even further, this time to 10%, and at twenty-five years plus, only 2% of the population were considered divergent thinkers. This makes me wonder if I should become a kindergarten teacher!

As Robinson shared, it reminded me of my past artistic experiences, having been involved in both music and drama in high school. I believe they deeply enriched my school experience and see their continued influence in my life today. They may not have increased my earning potential, but using them makes me happier in my work. Currently, I am working as a part-time nanny for a couple of families and often bring my guitar with me. I find the children love to hear me play and often break out in spontaneous dance as they hear the music. I intend to use music and drama when I become a teacher as well. The last couple of years I volunteered in a second-grade class and when the teacher learned I played the guitar, she asked me to lead some songs. One described the antics of leaf-cutter ants. We sang it to the tune, “When Johnny Comes Marching Home Again.” I was amazed how fast the students learned the words as they sang, and we all had so much fun.

As Robinson noted, the arts stimulate the senses and make it easier to learn. It saddens me to think that some schools no longer offer these opportunities to their students today and that some are considering eliminating those programs because of school finances. Art provides a tangible benefit in our schools. It makes learning fun, and when learning is fun - more learn!

Lack of Money = Lack of Choices

Dr. Donna M. Beegle, in the chapter “Understanding Poverty” (2007), writes of the inequities that exist between social classes in schools. This makes me more aware of my current privilege being a university student. Last week, a friend of mine made the decision to drop out of graduate school. She was single and acquiring too much debt with student loans. She had recently received a Bachelor of Arts degree and was planning to get her masters in order to become a mental therapist. Because she was an older student, however, she was advised that it was not economically feasible for her to continue as a student. She was fortunate to have been able to get a bachelor’s degree, but unfortunate that her finances prevented her from continuing to reach her dream and receive the full education that she needed to obtain the career she desired. This was an example Beegle could have used to dispel the myth that education is available to all people (p. 28). Beegle might have added that my friend was fortunate to have ever had her dream, as many in poverty do not dream. They live in the present, focusing on their basic needs being met, like food, shelter and clothing. Education, even high school, is considered a luxury. It’s hard to focus on education when you’re hungry, or even worse, if you have children who are hungry.

I never thought before about the differences between generational poverty and temporary/situational poverty. I once experienced this second type, having grown up in a stable environment but put into a financial crisis through a divorce. As typical of a temporary crisis, I did not internalize my financial situation as my fault, but blamed it on my husband leaving me. I became proactive and was able to receive enough resources, including welfare for a short time and then a job to support me and my children. Beegle pointed out that if I had not been successful in getting a job or making it out of poverty, I would have eventually internalized this as my fault, due to my personal deficiencies (p. 37). What would I have done if there had been no welfare to help me pay my mortgage and I had lost my home? This is a very difficult question for me, and I am disheartened to realize that many families do experience poverty through no fault of their own.

It was enlightening to read that poverty is listed as a major reason why some children do not like school. Rather than school being a safe place, many feel judged and condemned because they may not wear the right clothes or bring the right food (pp. 47-49). What can a teacher do in this situation? There are so many needs in our society, from getting enough food to getting a job that pays enough to support oneself and possibly a family. I hope my friend will be able to get a job that uses the education she worked so hard to get, but I also hope my future students will be able to get enough food and services so they will not internalize their poverty and feel stigmatized because of the situation they may be in. I want them to have more than just the ability to survive.

Becoming multi-cultural

I continue to learn how important it is for a teacher to familiarize oneself with different students’ cultures. Author Lisa Delpit (1995), in the book I just want to be myself: Discovering what students bring to school “in their blood” , gave her readers a very practical tool when she mentioned that her daughter’s preschool invited several African American grandmothers to help in the class (p. 42). Hearing this actually brought a sense of relief to me as I realized that an expert does not have to be a professional. These grandmothers were probably average older African American women, but this same averageness may have been a better means to observe what daily life is like for an African woman than an expert’s viewpoint might have been. I wonder, however, if all schools are as willing to allow teachers to invite laypeople as this school was? I am wondering as well how this would be best facilitated. Should they come in after the class has begun to study their culture, possibly initiating a stronger class interest in their presence, or from the beginning, giving the class a reference point for their studies?

I can understand why Delpit was dismayed when the class put on a program to honor Martin Luther King, Jr.’s birthday and did not include any of their African American grandmothers, or any other Black people in fact. I appreciated Delpit’s insights when she shared that this gave children the implication that “white men had all the knowledge” (p. 43). This concerned me personally as I considered what my mistakes of omission might be when I begin teaching. How encouraging it was when Delpit added that a positive attitude was more important in the end than always using the correct curriculum or inviting the right speakers. I suspect I will have many unfortunate omissions, but I hope I will also have a positive attitude and encouraging spirit for my future students. I appreciated the question that the class was asked when watching Bill Clinton’s presidential inauguration, “How many of you think you could be president?” (p. 43). If I raise that question and no one in my classroom raises their hands, I will know that I need to immediately begin examining stereotypes and focus on recognizing individual strengths and cultural heritage (p. 44).