Sometimes I really wonder if how I spend some of my ‘teacher time’ is worthy/worthwhile. Admittedly, it is selfish. I enjoy making things. So why am I spending a few hours both curating things for the December bulletin board, tweaking this blog, and bouncing around like a nervous pingpong ball? I don’t know. And I am not sure I want to know.
Anyway, have a nice Sunday. It’s almost the Winter Solstice up here in the North, and days will begin to get brighter.
There is a passionate Shakespearean scholar on TikTok, and she does a phenomenal job of analyzing Shakespeare.
But damn, she’s a little mean. If she had been my teacher back in 1980 or whenever I had to read Romeo and Juliet, I would never have picked up another one of his works.
Allow me to explain.
This is the first year I feel like a “real” high school English teacher. Yes, a dash of imposter syndrome along with circumstances. This is year 17, and while years 14-16 were at an alternative high school, many of my instructional chops got a little rusty. And I’m not here to debate the merits or disadvantages of my district’s curriculum policies: each ELA grade teaches core texts. And as common practice, from what I understand, Romeo and Juliet is often taught in freshmen year. I’ve done “light” mentor text instruction with excerpts and plot years ago (the use of cause and effect is a wonderful structure to explore with R&J); we middle school ELA teachers were roundly told to back off and not touch. Okay, okay! Onward.
Now, one of the stories I shared this past year, and will share again, is that for me, Shakespeare was hard when I was in high school. That was back in the day when the teacher would assign a text and walk away. Having been the ‘smart kid’ and a voracious reader all my life, getting Elizabethan language tossed in my lap was daunting. I am sure I drove my ’73 Buick LeSabre (a gift from my grandparents) to the nearest bookstore and snatched up a copy of the Cliff Notes. That saved me, but I felt like a fraud and, quite frankly, stupid. But at least I understood the story. It wasn’t until many years later that I watched a version of Hamlet, and the light bulb went off: I got it. These are plays meant to be seen. And heard. And felt.
ALSO: and this is huge — they are meant to be triangulated*. Through watching, listening, reading, discussing, debating, contextualizing, and, dare I say — translating — using all of my skills as an ELA teacher, ELL/MLL, and as simply a human who loves good stories and hearing what folks have to say about them.
And, look, I know I get just as frustrated with other teachers as this creator does about the teacher to whom she replied. I get frustrated when other teachers continue to use racial slurs ‘because it’s in the text.” I get frustrated when other teachers are fascists. *Shrug.* I get frustrated when teachers tell students to put quotation marks inside the ending punctuation. But I never get frustrated when teachers or students are doing their best to contextualize. (Hope that’s some good scotch or whiskey in her glass.)
Here are a few anecdotes from our recent unit on Romeo & Juliet:
Students asked why, in the Luhrmann version of the play/film, he used modern settings/clothing and kept the Shakespearean language: and I demonstrated Romeo falling on his knees, crying, “I am fortune’s fool!” versus “Wow, I am a chump.” It allowed us to see the story’s timelessness and not focus on clothing from the late 1500s.
Before the scene where Juliet’s father strikes her mother and tells Juliet she can die on the streets for all he cares, I gave a content warning. Many students witness domestic violence, so I must provide context to this scene. So, in the TikTok creator’s argument about how the parents were not disconnected, she makes a good point. But students are also going to judge stories by the context of their own histories and generational structures, and even though Lord Capulet shows his love and care for his daughter by finding her a good match, I hate to say it, lady, but kids these days aren’t going to think he’s a good dad. But that would be a really good question for them to discuss: are the parents disconnected?
We also considered (because the ELA department came up with it) this question, “Who’s to blame for the deaths of Romeo and Juliet?” and the students did not fail when discussing it. I offered that because Tybalt is so angry and ready to fight with Romeo at the ball, but Lord Capulet stops him; what would have happened if Tybalt had never sought Romeo out? In our opinion, Tybalt continues the generational trauma/feud. A case could be made for Tybalt being “at fault.” I think this is a distracting question in some regards, but it does help students begin to frame strong argumentative writing/thinking.
By allowing myself to be real, vulnerable, and honest about my relationship with reading Shakespeare, I allowed the 15-16-year-olds in my instructional care to take risks. They trust me. It’s okay to not be the smartest person in the room, and collaboratively make meaning about something. And they always have some new insight to share. I certainly would never say to them they’re being reductive and pointless. I’m going to go back to Louise Roseblatt’s concepts of transactional reading:
“Through the medium of words, the text brings into the reader’s consciousness certain concepts, certain sensuous experiences, certain images of things, people, actions, scenes. The special meanings and, more particularly, the submerged associations that these words have for the individual reader will largely determine what the work communicates to him. The reader brings to the work personality traits, memories of past events, present needs and preoccupations, a particular mood of the moment, and a particular physical condition. These and many other elements in a never-to-be-duplicated combination determine his response to the peculiar contribution of the text.” ― Louise M. Rosenblatt, Literature as Exploration
So, perhaps that’s my own ELA/NBCT, M. Ed., flex that I’m leaning on Rosenblatt.
Information and ideas about this text and series, and Native American Heritage Month
Context:
This is for my own need to find some solid footing. I started at my current position during the 2019-2020 year, just beginning to use my newly minted #ELL (MLL) endorsement, year 14 of teaching (now year 16), at an alternative high school in a new district. I’ve moved so many times in my life, and one of my life skills is trying to imagine the culture and invisible rules of place so I can emotionally and professionally survive, and hopefully thrive. This school had never had a full-time ELL/MLL teacher before, and since I’ve been there the graduation rates of MLL have risen with significant numbers. I remind my insecure self that I do know what I’m doing, and how to help. Unfortunately, I cannot bottle these methods and sell them to other teachers. I am working on being intentional and controlling the results, but alas, like true science it’s an art form, and sometimes the results are not as expected, and even more powerful. Over these past few weeks, I’m working on building back relationships with colleagues, which by and large means “leave them alone.” So I continue to work alone.
My class size for ELL/ELA this year is twelve students. What I love about smaller class sizes are everything you can imagine: individual attention, crafting, and scaffolding, differentiating for interests and needs. However, I’m still expected, like I imagine most of us are, daily learning targets and success criteria, and this number, where I have no idea where it originated from, we are expected to use 80% of district-approved materials. We adopted a new curriculum for ELLs since I’ve been in this district, and while the materials aren’t bad, at this stage in my profession I’ve been “baking from scratch” for so long, this feels too pedantic and suffocating. I take heart at in our scope and sequence, which I contributed to over the summer, one unit of study is Identity and another is Culture. Those are broad and expansive topics, and I can work with that. I also want to shift toward Dr. Gholdy Muhammad’s work and Dr. José Medina’s works. Sometimes fostering revolutions are the quiet shifts and getting results, sharing the results, and then it grows.
On September 25 I attended a Native American professional development
Also, we have an amazing Native American district lead, Robin Pratt, who’s shares rich resources, this among many others. How many districts around our nation can say they have a Native American DISTRICT LEAD?
But: this is the work of the work. We excavate, research, and find what we and our students need. And I’m always honest with them about how much I don’t know, and also inquire into their experiences, too.
Organization:
I will do my best to organize these thoughts so you can find and use what you might need.
Objectives: Using a reader’s response journal and graphic novel, among other media, inquire and build contextual and historical knowledge about the past and present day. 1. Read to learn about a character and her identity, place, and present-tense life, and her journey to learn about her past and make personal connections to her place in history. 2. Write about our own experiences with our heritages –many of us don’t know family members or ancestors. This is not about direct knowledge, but imagining (historical fiction) — if we could dream about our pasts, where would we go? What might we see? Who might we talk to? 3. Listen to stories and perspectives from those who live and learn on this land we currently occupy (Muckleshoot Tribe) 4. Speak/discuss our thoughts with others in class*
*this is a domain that has been challenging to encourage students to take risks with each other
There is no shortage of factual, critical information about our history; the more I looked into my digital hoard the more I uncovered. Hopefully you can find something you can use, and begin to do this work. Now. This month. And keep it going. I’m going to hit the Publish button.
Look for the voices who are doing the work with love, excellence and sharing. And support them.
This is what I wrote in 2018, and my question ‘is this the best we can hope for?’ lacked in hope and vision. But thank goodness others have taken up the work, and helped us (teachers) continue to grow and learn.
Fortunately, Shea Martin, Lizzie Fortin, and many others keep sharing their thinking.
for me, this picture does not depict liberation.
I want to work with my community to change the rules of this game so that we all can play. I want the players to fly. I want there to be music and joy and justice and laughing and abundance and magic and holiness.
And it’s almost payday: donate to this, even if they’ve exceeded their goal:
breathe and type, shea…
we’re leaving the campaign open for now because GoFundMe takes out fees and we want to make sure we have enough to cover all of our expenses so please continue to share and spread the word as we celebrate.
Districts and English departments are scrambling for “diverse” books–while some of us have been doing this work, time to continue and support.
I’m going into year 15 next school year, and during this time I can vouch that I continue to seek answers and strive to be a better teacher for my students. This is built on my master’s thesis, which was using engaging children’s literature–I contend this was a solid foundation for my practice. But I’m out of patience waiting for others to catch up. And I’ve encountered this request and steerage multiple times. I’m not a patient person by nature anyway, or so I’ve been told by a friend. It would be my life lesson. I’m beginning to think patience, when it comes to children and education, is highly overrated and is not, as painted, a virtue, but a sin.
We don’t have years to wait. We shouldn’t have to wait months. If you are a content creator, this is your warning. Think about your books. Blog posts. Tpt products. Go back w your new lens. What should go or be revised? And how can you be transparent about that process? https://t.co/gB0soHTklT
— Adrienne Brandenburg (@AdrienneBranden) June 22, 2020
I would add that I am here for any conversation about books, novels, problematic texts, and the approved “canon.” Districts and district leadership: I beseech you: do not make it so difficult to get great literature written by BIPOC writers in our classrooms. We don’t have time to wait.
1/Having been forced to teach it (or lose my job), I can say that this has given me a lot of thought.
White teachers: if you’re not forced to teach these texts, what reasons do you have to justify this?
Sag Harbor is 11 yrs old, but it’s a side of CWhitehead that might surprise readers that know only his two most recent novels. AND it’s about the summer AND an African American setting that many readers might not know exists https://t.co/3XIFvnrNDO#DisruptTexts#SummerReading
— Joel /hō•ÉL/ Garza is cofounder of #THEBOOKCHAT 📓 (@JoelRGarza) June 10, 2020
When I first began teaching, I used a lot of picture books. I still do, actually; I didn’t this past year as much because well, it was this past year. One book I loved as a read aloud was Skippyjon Jones by Judith Byron Schachner. And something didn’t sit right after a few readings. And then the book was panned by critics, and yes, it’s racist. No question about it. So, out it went. I never read it again or shared it. Know better, do better (Angelou).
Let’s start taking a look at how books impact our students. If white kids are only taught a narrow narrative about enslaved Blacks, that narrow line of thinking will shrink their critical thinking and empathy processes. And since I taught 7th and 8th grade most of my teaching career, this quote from Nic Stone took my breath away. Is this why my students stop reading in 8th grade, because they’re tired of waiting for books, mirrors, and sliding doors (Rudine Sims Bishop)?
Up until that point, required reading was either minimal or animal—shout-out to Mrs. Frisby and her NIMH-ish rats—but then eighth grade hit. And I started to disappear.
Nic Stone, “Don’t Just Read About Racism–Read Stories About Black People Living.”
I am an amateur in so many areas, it’s really kind of lame. One of the mental games I like to play with myself is the hidden costs of things, like trying to pull data from chaos. I am ill equipped and humbled. All I can offer is I like to think about big things, and this will be separated by multiple posts.
The question is: How does racism affect white people? Understand this question is not intended to center white people. We’ve been centered plenty. It’s meant to explore why this construct of race and power keeps getting propped up, exploited, and used to keep groups in fear, confusion, disoriented, and in danger.
When I was in high school, I went to a predominately white, wealthy parents, large high school in suburban Denver. Kids wore $300 boots and drove BMWs. I was not one of these kids. I was friends with a boy named Bryan. Bryan was Black. He was funny, smart, and always cracked me up. One evening, when we were at a football game, he told me he and his family were moving so he could attend the mostly Black high school. I did not understand fully why, and was heartbroken. I didn’t have the emotional means to express what was happening then, and I’m not sure I do now. It may have been a mixture of things: wasn’t our current school ‘better?’ And trust me: I tell the truth when I say I also recognized why going to the other high school was important and was indeed, better for him and his brothers. Was my friendship not enough to make him feel part of a community? But we lost. We lost his smile, his gifts, and his friendship. I knew once he moved, even if it was only twenty minutes away, he was moving to the other side of the world, our world.
I found my high school yearbook during the great Quarantine Time of Purging All Closets, and saw his picture. I miss that friend.
Flash-forward to the election of 2016. White kids chanting “BUILD THE WALL” in those predominately white schools in my former district. When I told my principal about her previous school and what the students did she said no, it wasn’t them, it was another building. Her denial was somewhat shocking at the time, but now considering she’s still social media friends with a teacher in the building who is a loud and proud Trump supporter, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. The amount of energy and time for white educators and parents they spend on building their mental fort is incredible. What if…WHAT IF…they spent that time and energy saying and doing something ELSE. ANOTHER ACTION.
What if
What if all teachers had to do a study with Jane Elliott’s and Cornell West’s work in educational philosophy? Why, when I was in second grade, did I get the teacher who, when asked if she believed in “women’s lib” answered, “Oh no, I like having the doors opened for me!” I was crushed. I was born a feminist, and to hear my teacher say this was devastating. And the little boy’s smug face as he got the answer he wanted is burned in my brain. Now think of all the trillions of micro and macro aggressions: what if?
What if when people had land, resources, built a community they understood that the community is better with diversity of experiences, gifts, talents, and contributions?
What if…
Threatening teachers’ voices is a common tactic.
Because right now we have administrators, parents, school boards and parents who force teachers into subterfuge and “asking forgiveness” whenever they talk about Malcom X or want to teach books from the #ProjectLit or #DisruptTexts communities. Right now, I’m trying to remind myself as a new person in a district/building that change takes time, even if I’ve been doing this work for almost 15 years as a teacher. Just getting some titles that aren’t white, colonized canon approved is painstakingly slow. There are gatekeepers and bureaucrats.
The hidden costs may include:
losing a friend
no collaboration
decreased joy
stale thinking
fixed mindsets
destruction of parent/child love and relationships
loss of respect and inclusion (think of cancel culture but more hidden)
Since this series is “White People Homework” keep in mind it’s not for BIPOC to do your work for you. Take some time, pray if that’s something you do, meditate, relax, and think: how would your life be better if we all practiced anti-racism work?
One idea: if an administrator asks you to do something in your classroom that is counter to anti-racism work, ask why, and request a detailed response. Ask if they are willing to have a conversation with the school board, the parents, and other teachers and students: identify the real stakeholders in the community.
Resources:
Merritt, K. (2017). Masterless Men: Poor Whites and Slavery in the Antebellum South (Cambridge Studies on the American South). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. doi:10.1017/9781316875568.
This is one of the most critical think pieces on education I’ve read in a long time, published in Medium by Lisa Kelly.
A moderate teacher often uses the rhetoric of maintaining high standards without interrogating themselves —holding students to high standards of what? As my comrade G.T. Reyes wrote, “Educators …if you’re still asking about how to “hold students accountable,” I would suggest you first ask yourself — accountable to what? This might sound crazy to some of you, but maybe you are wanting students to be accountable to learn their place within white supremacist, capitalist schooling.” Many credentialing programs teach that it is racist to expect that black and brown children are less capable than white children, which is absolutely true. However, this doesn’t mean that the solution is to expect any student to reproduce capitalism or whiteness.
From school uniforms to accountability, how white teachers continue to uphold white supremacy and colonialism comes in wave after wave. During this time of emergency remote learning and teaching, the number of teachers who are aghast at students turning in blank documents (they did this before, by the way), terrified of students cheating, not being accountable, on and on and on…ladies: you are exhausting. And students continue to act like, well, students. The cat and mouse game of “gotcha” is part of the teacher-student dynamic: but does it have to be?
The first answer that comes to my mind would be — schooling that is centered on relationships. Not relationships that are about getting kids to like you enough to want to produce for you. But relationships built on understanding the unique humanity and the community that each child brings to education.
Every year, sometimes at several check points, I give students surveys to express and provide confidential opinions on my teaching, what they liked, what they wish would change, etc. And overarching themes emerge: they want to wear what they want, and learn about things that will empower them in the moment, in an unknown future, and that feel relevant and worth their time. (Gee, almost like this generation understands existential crisis or something.)
As I continue to grow as an educator, I am mindful that I will always need to push against racist ideas and bias. I am fortunate to have a spot on the Wednesday webinars with Jason Reynolds and Ibram X. Kendi on their collaborative book, Stamped. I am going to ask my admin if we can use this as a book study for next year: if not the entire staff, then perhaps my immediate ELA colleagues would be interested.The essential piece of all this is as we’re reimagining schools, beware of who’s trying to hold teachers “accountable” and who is building authentic relationships. Those people service in complicity to hold teachers and students accountable, too. Look for those who include teachers’ and students’ voices, who have experience in making those connections. We cannot underestimate the danger we’re in right now. And personally I am struggling to hold onto hope. As the person said in Samantha Bee’s video, I now consider myself to be, as Meehan Crist quotes, an “Undefeated Despair.”
Keep focused: what brings us to teaching, what brings children to learning, and what are the most critical things to teach? That’s it. I am thinking about entire semester of simply reading critically for argument and bias, and how to have fluency and accuracy in detecting bias and agendas. Looking forward to digging into this resource, too: https://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2020/06/qanon-nothing-can-stop-what-is-coming/610567/
