My Blog List
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Kohn, Zappa, and Superchunk
The Trouble With Rubrics:
For me, the realization came about 15 years ago during sophomore English class when I heard Brandon talking about a shirt he wanted to order from the clothing catalogue he was reading. More than in the past, I had noticed boys and girls wearing brand-y clothes (Gap, Abercrombie and Fitch, Aeropostale) in school that year. Over the course of that year, I began slowly putting together that those stores didn't just exist in the mall nearby, but in malls across the country, and the teenagers in my town were made up only a small percentage of the teenagers nationwide who shopped at them. This became clearer and more wide reaching as I got older and spent more time away from my town. I met people in college who showed me pictures of their friends from their towns, many of whom were dressed like people I had gone to school with. It spread beyond clothing as I began to notice the pictures on the walls of homes in one (part of the) country were identical to those on the walls in another. This was my early experience with what I came later to understand as something like what people mean when they talk about globalization, standardization, and homogenization.
NCLB, from my understanding, is a sort of paragon in this mold. Much in the same vein of box stores and malls dictating the personal tastes of the population in its area toward a people unified in its appearance, No Child's attendant legislation has sought to unify students' thought processes through national standards and standardized assessments. To complete the metaphor, every student in every school is shopping in identically laid-out stores and choosing from identical rows of products that Corporate has decided will a) serve most students adequately, and b) sell well.
Based on what Mr. Kohn writes in "The Trouble With Rubrics," it appears that he is alternately bemused and frustrated with contemporary education policy that emphasizes salvific use of the tool. Though he states that rubrics could, "...conceivable play a constructive role [in education,]" he objects mainly to their posturing as transferable, supremely objective assessment devices capable of delivering reliable, standardized scores. He wonders where room for the judgement of teachers has been made in this schema: "Rubrics are, above all, a tool to promote standardization, to turn teachers into grading machines or at least allow them to pretend that what they're doing is exact and objective."
For Kohn, neither do rubrics aid students in learning, nor teachers in "offer[ing] feedback that will help them become more adept at, and excited about, what they're doing." He even goes so far to say that the same lethargy that rubrics imbue a student's experience with is present in the teacher's lesson design. Below, he balks at the idea that something designed primarily to keep parents at bay with regards to grades can inspire teachers to be creative in their approach to instruction:
"First of all, something that's commended to teachers as a handy strategy of self-justification during parent conferences doesn't seem particularly promising for inviting teachers to improve their practices, let alone rethink their premises."
He is frustrated that the subjectivity rubrics presume to root out just manifests itself differently, namely in, "...adjectives that are murky and end up being left to the teacher's discretion." "It's shortsighted to assume that an assessment technique is valuable in proportion with how much information it provides." He does leave room for the tool, however, as long as it does not stand alone as the only measure of assessment.
To the earlier autobiographical point, Mr, Kohn adds support from studies showing that standardization accomplishes nothing greater than its name. He cites research by Linda Mabry who states that, "...compliance with the rubric tended to yield higher scores but produced 'vacuous' writing." This vacuousness is the same that an ardent embrace of subjectivity fends off. To use his words, "Just as standardizing assessment for teachers may compromise the the quality of teaching, so standardizing assessment for learners may compromise the learning."
Mr. Kohn does not offer a concrete alternative to rubrics as assessment tools, just a call to evaluate why it is that teachers assess in the first place. That blew me away for a couple of seconds. The metaphysical underpinnings of such a charge were surprising as it made me confront the question. To be honest, I have spent very little time thinking about why I, or anyone, would assess an other. Historically, this means for me that I likely know the answer but the form of the question surprised me so that I have momentarily forgotten. The author does leave us with an interesting proposition to be gleaned from his fourth paragraph from the end - despite stultifying standardization, student work will make clear the means to evaluate it. Perhaps this is also true of Brandon and box store shoppers, too.
For me, the realization came about 15 years ago during sophomore English class when I heard Brandon talking about a shirt he wanted to order from the clothing catalogue he was reading. More than in the past, I had noticed boys and girls wearing brand-y clothes (Gap, Abercrombie and Fitch, Aeropostale) in school that year. Over the course of that year, I began slowly putting together that those stores didn't just exist in the mall nearby, but in malls across the country, and the teenagers in my town were made up only a small percentage of the teenagers nationwide who shopped at them. This became clearer and more wide reaching as I got older and spent more time away from my town. I met people in college who showed me pictures of their friends from their towns, many of whom were dressed like people I had gone to school with. It spread beyond clothing as I began to notice the pictures on the walls of homes in one (part of the) country were identical to those on the walls in another. This was my early experience with what I came later to understand as something like what people mean when they talk about globalization, standardization, and homogenization.
NCLB, from my understanding, is a sort of paragon in this mold. Much in the same vein of box stores and malls dictating the personal tastes of the population in its area toward a people unified in its appearance, No Child's attendant legislation has sought to unify students' thought processes through national standards and standardized assessments. To complete the metaphor, every student in every school is shopping in identically laid-out stores and choosing from identical rows of products that Corporate has decided will a) serve most students adequately, and b) sell well.
Based on what Mr. Kohn writes in "The Trouble With Rubrics," it appears that he is alternately bemused and frustrated with contemporary education policy that emphasizes salvific use of the tool. Though he states that rubrics could, "...conceivable play a constructive role [in education,]" he objects mainly to their posturing as transferable, supremely objective assessment devices capable of delivering reliable, standardized scores. He wonders where room for the judgement of teachers has been made in this schema: "Rubrics are, above all, a tool to promote standardization, to turn teachers into grading machines or at least allow them to pretend that what they're doing is exact and objective."
For Kohn, neither do rubrics aid students in learning, nor teachers in "offer[ing] feedback that will help them become more adept at, and excited about, what they're doing." He even goes so far to say that the same lethargy that rubrics imbue a student's experience with is present in the teacher's lesson design. Below, he balks at the idea that something designed primarily to keep parents at bay with regards to grades can inspire teachers to be creative in their approach to instruction:
"First of all, something that's commended to teachers as a handy strategy of self-justification during parent conferences doesn't seem particularly promising for inviting teachers to improve their practices, let alone rethink their premises."
He is frustrated that the subjectivity rubrics presume to root out just manifests itself differently, namely in, "...adjectives that are murky and end up being left to the teacher's discretion." "It's shortsighted to assume that an assessment technique is valuable in proportion with how much information it provides." He does leave room for the tool, however, as long as it does not stand alone as the only measure of assessment.
To the earlier autobiographical point, Mr, Kohn adds support from studies showing that standardization accomplishes nothing greater than its name. He cites research by Linda Mabry who states that, "...compliance with the rubric tended to yield higher scores but produced 'vacuous' writing." This vacuousness is the same that an ardent embrace of subjectivity fends off. To use his words, "Just as standardizing assessment for teachers may compromise the the quality of teaching, so standardizing assessment for learners may compromise the learning."
Mr. Kohn does not offer a concrete alternative to rubrics as assessment tools, just a call to evaluate why it is that teachers assess in the first place. That blew me away for a couple of seconds. The metaphysical underpinnings of such a charge were surprising as it made me confront the question. To be honest, I have spent very little time thinking about why I, or anyone, would assess an other. Historically, this means for me that I likely know the answer but the form of the question surprised me so that I have momentarily forgotten. The author does leave us with an interesting proposition to be gleaned from his fourth paragraph from the end - despite stultifying standardization, student work will make clear the means to evaluate it. Perhaps this is also true of Brandon and box store shoppers, too.
This is only tangentially related, but I have been waiting to get in some Zappa all semester...
The Case Against Tougher Standards:
Mr. Kohn makes the point that those most concerned with the implementation and results of activities associated with "raising standards" are physically and philosophically separate from those who are actually doing it - the classroom teachers and their students. He likens school committee campaigns aimed at "accountability" to the toothless but palliative "lock-'em-up, law-and-order" announcements of politicians in the midst of a particularly violent season in their city. As if teachers don't demand accountability from their students...
There is a Superchunk song called "Skip Steps 1&3" that came to mind immediately when reading and sums up the way I think he's feeling. For me, it's always been an inspirational song about both the urgency of doing things now, and the uselessness of the activities that can surround and prevent that action.
Step 1 - talking about doing it,
Step 2 - doing it
Step 3 - talking about what you did
Its strident energy is an argument against "accountability" and "tougher standards," and for accountability and tougher standards (or whatever it is that Kohn wants). View below.
Kohn is coy in his approach, but he does feel strongly about the crushing and ultimately noneffective nature of "high-standards," though I'm one hundred percent sure he also believes very strongly in getting the best out students. Just before he enumerates his "five fatal flaws," he makes what I took to be his most cogent point in a story about the Wisconsin teacher. The line that talks about how the teacher used to help students design their own learning projects helped explain that that's what Kohn meant in the short paragraph prior to the story when he talks about, "The kind of teaching that helps students understand ideas from the inside out...".
If there is one unifying thread in Kohn's writing for this week, it is his dislike of the standardizing effect that educational standardization is having on students, on people. He and Frank Zappa certainly have this in common, and he will continue shoveling against the tide, wearing a wry smile and waiting for the work of others to vindicate his view.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Something interesting about race
I heard an interview this morning on The Takeaway with Jay Smooth, a radio dj who recently gave a TEDx talk about how to talk about racism. The talk can be found here.
His Youtube channel also features a video (which I suspect as the impetus for the TED talk) called "How to Tell People They Sound Racist" and is posted below. See ya'll tonight.
His Youtube channel also features a video (which I suspect as the impetus for the TED talk) called "How to Tell People They Sound Racist" and is posted below. See ya'll tonight.
Sunday, November 20, 2011
Listening
Utilitarian ideals argue that society exists to further the interests and goals of the individual. Democracy in this context is not that great experiment hallowed by so many speakers, but rather an arrangement among the willing charged with maximizing individuals' personal liberty while providing for a contract of protection from harm or impingement of those freedoms. This type of setup is predicated on the notion that an individual is etymologically just that, not divisible; unified; singular. This modernist thinking places the concerns of the individual at the center of any discussion of freedom or governance. Because of the stratospheric importance modernism ascribes to the one, it allows for the diminishment of the many and relegates it to a depedestalized place.
This gives rise to "entrepreneurial individualism" (72) and, for the author, celebrates a mis-embrace of Darwinian social codes. "Those who appear not to make use of these conditions (supposedly open to all), or who appear to lack the potential to accrue privileges, are systematically devalued as less than full citizens" (72). In other words, the contributions of people who do not strive for widely accepted and widely desired social capital are not recognized as legitimate.
This is ameliorated by listening, and is very much more in line with a definition of democracy that is not separate from those its governs, but rather arises from members' acknowledgement of each other's personhood. Associated living, for Dewey. And this listening has much more to do with actual listening and much less to do with speaking a common language, as illustrated on pages 76 and 77 when Shayne easily translates Isaac's sounds into words for the researcher (76-77). The reason she is so adroit is because she has had experience listening to him. Given the nature of last week's reading and its primacy of sound, I guess this is not surprising to me. I can see examples of this in my life, as well. The people and situations I am familiar with are the easiest for me to navigate by sound. The author wants us to have this revelation, I believe, and to do so at the beneficent expense of highlighting the myopic inadequacies of utilitarian thought.
Not unlike culture at large, school culture arbitrarily privileges certain types of knowledge over others. The author points out that Shayne teaches in a way that acknowledges this and tries to turn it on its ear by listening. "She intuitively rejected the notion that nonconformity to the academic norm meant a student inherently lacked intelligence or was intrinsically burdensome" (83). Modernism and utilitarianism favor behavior patterns that lie closely with the ideals of ancient Sparta where all human activity was directed toward the goal of warrior-making, with any undesirables becoming uncharitable by-products of this aim. The author illustrates the vestiges of this kind of thinking in contemporary society just before telling the story of John Mcgough, "According to Shayne, the notion of Down syndrome often obscures our ability to recognize the child as a child. She or he becomes a walking pathological syndrome, a mobile defect on the loose" (86). But Shayne and others think that, since the formal and informal tests that students are being endlessly subjected to are made and scored by people who think that children with Down syndrome are intrinsically burdensome, then it is the assessment and not the student that is flawed.
To close this week on a personal note, this reading makes the most sense to me when I just focus on the author's early credence to the act of listening. I think that most of my musical favorites are favorites because their music is born out of a great deal of listening. To everything. That which is within and without. Making music with people who are listening is infinitely more enjoyable and productive than otherwise. Listening is not passive, it's an activity that presupposes vulnerability on the listener's part and involves a bringing-in of the outside and reckoning it that which is within. Miles Davis, for example, put together great bands because he knew how to listen. And the tradition of large ensemble playing will reemerge and supplant the past 60+ years of solo player trends. Until that happens, here is a band who exemplifies what it means to listen.
Also, view below a great poem by a consistently great poet that touches on an idea that has come up a couple of times in class.
Monday, November 14, 2011
Class Survey
Please be kind and rewind your mind back to the beginning of class today to fill out this short survey.
Follow the link, and thanks!
Follow the link, and thanks!
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Okay, seriously, she wrote rules. And numbered them! Also, Rodriguez.
To simplify: Collier stands for "public" bilingualness and Rodriguez does not.
Santa Anna's reading of Collier leads him to aver the following: "Code-switching by (ELL) students should be accepted, and not penalized" (230). This statement presumes an external activity - an outward expression, in which language is used to understand how the surrounding world looks to the speaker. For Rodriguez, the analogous process exists as a means of understanding how the speaker looks to the world.
Santa Anna makes a point about the difference between learning and acquiring. I think his differentiation lies along social lines, in that grammar and spelling are taught/learned, whereas idioms and cadence are transmitted/acquired.
Santa Anna again says that the best bilingual education is "bi-dialectalism" (227) and succeeds when grounded in "...the true appreciation of the different linguistic and cultural values that students bring into the classroom" (224). Though it may be the encapsulation of a very effective model of ELL education, I find the statement itself nebulous and quixotic. For him, "appreciation" seems to be code for "awareness" in a ribbon-campaign sort of way. He later seems to shore up the argument when he elaborates on Collier's finding that the home language is best for initial literacy, but in a subsequent sentence he quotes her again as saying that the self-worth that a successful home-language literacy can build statistical, transitive success in second language acquisition (233). Regarding this, Rodriguez would say that the self-worth that leads to successful second-language acquisition was built into him and needed no reinforcement in his own language by his "public" language teachers.
Rodriguez, despite writing wistfully about his loss of language, has very little to say academically about ELL instruction. This is fitting and expected as his piece is autobiographical and entertaining. The point he does elegantly concluded, however, is that his transformation from a Spanish speaker to an English speaker came through sound first, and meaning second. Moreover, the subject of his writing is not simply the slipping away of his language, or even the rift it created in his family, rather, it is an ornamented account of the pain of transitioning out of an idyllic childhood.
Santa Anna's reading of Collier leads him to aver the following: "Code-switching by (ELL) students should be accepted, and not penalized" (230). This statement presumes an external activity - an outward expression, in which language is used to understand how the surrounding world looks to the speaker. For Rodriguez, the analogous process exists as a means of understanding how the speaker looks to the world.
Santa Anna makes a point about the difference between learning and acquiring. I think his differentiation lies along social lines, in that grammar and spelling are taught/learned, whereas idioms and cadence are transmitted/acquired.
Santa Anna again says that the best bilingual education is "bi-dialectalism" (227) and succeeds when grounded in "...the true appreciation of the different linguistic and cultural values that students bring into the classroom" (224). Though it may be the encapsulation of a very effective model of ELL education, I find the statement itself nebulous and quixotic. For him, "appreciation" seems to be code for "awareness" in a ribbon-campaign sort of way. He later seems to shore up the argument when he elaborates on Collier's finding that the home language is best for initial literacy, but in a subsequent sentence he quotes her again as saying that the self-worth that a successful home-language literacy can build statistical, transitive success in second language acquisition (233). Regarding this, Rodriguez would say that the self-worth that leads to successful second-language acquisition was built into him and needed no reinforcement in his own language by his "public" language teachers.
Rodriguez, despite writing wistfully about his loss of language, has very little to say academically about ELL instruction. This is fitting and expected as his piece is autobiographical and entertaining. The point he does elegantly concluded, however, is that his transformation from a Spanish speaker to an English speaker came through sound first, and meaning second. Moreover, the subject of his writing is not simply the slipping away of his language, or even the rift it created in his family, rather, it is an ornamented account of the pain of transitioning out of an idyllic childhood.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Promising practice makes perfect
Inspired by the national "It Gets Better" campaign, students at the URI Women's Center have produced their own domestic version. Some of the students responsible and their faculty advisers led a screening and Q&A during the PP conference.
I thought the film was good, and I liked the honesty with which the audience responded. The takeaway for me was made clear when several audience members became emotional during the followup panel. If settled, self-aware adults were affected by the interview subjects' candor and magnanimity of spirit, then surely an insecure person or someone of emerging sexual identity can easily find solace, too.
The keynote from members of Teen Empowerment provided me with a couple interesting ideas as far as group facilitation is concerned. I liked the beanbag toss and the tool about "the wind blows when..."
The student panel at day's end was nice, and it was nice to just hear from each participant. I particularly liked the stories that Chris, Ilyana, and Jamal told.
It was also nice (maybe the nicest) to see, learn with, and converse with members of class in different environs.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
From tonight's class
Checking in:
Here are a couple of starting points from which to do some exploring about Miss Genovese and Superheroes. Enjoy.
Kitty Genovese - the woman for whom The Bystander effect is named.
A clip from Superheroes.
Sunday, October 30, 2011
Meyer
Despite a richly diverse sample (Johnson would be pleased), each of whom in interviews, "Spoke of a personal commitment to challenging bias in the classroom" (20), and an admission that, "...school culture is much more likely to determine and support what it is that students, teachers, and others say and do than is the formal management system," (17) Meyer ultimately concludes that the safe, positive learning environments for which she and her subjects advocate are inconceivable without the advocacy and involvement of, "school leaders" who "initiate a whole-school process that would transform the formal and informal structures of the school" (21).
After the cacophonous din from non-training complaints, bullying-plan-implementation professional development seminars, and CYA speeches has subsided, teachers are still left to wrestle with this issue of how best to meister their own burgers in the face of hurtful teenage ignorance. And, in the case of her six subjects, to do so with little or no (actual or perceived) administrative support. Because it is brought up during a dark time in the paper, the telling line she writes on page 12 in reference to just how much power one of the aforementioned "school leaders" can have on building climate, seems foreboding. But, when she avers that, "A Principal's priorities and attitudes towards issues permeate the school and shape the culture," she is really writing toward hope. And, when taken in tandem with the final line of the article, the two make for a powerful call to action for those looking for the so what now...? in this week's reading. We can be forgiven for missing it, however.
So,
Fact: teachers need to be everything to everybody, and still get all the paperwork in on time (9).
Fact: teachers care deeply about combating the hegemony of heteronormative patriarchy.
Fact: "...sexual and homophobic harassment are accepted parts of of school culture" (2).
Fact: teachers who intervene are led primarily by their own sense of justice based on self-experience (17).
Fact: school culture reflects the attitudes of those in power.
Fact: administrators are not the only "school leaders."
Fact: should faculty challenge the school stance, they will be subjected to punitive scheduling consequences.
Fact: if teachers, "...addressed the macro structures of the school," things might change (10).
Fact: teachers feel vulnerable & powerless when addressing these issues, even inside their classrooms (17).
So...
Fact: teachers do what they can, where they can, with what they can.
Because...
Fact: teachers need to be everything to everybody, and still get all the paperwork in on time (9).
But, if it's possible to act without impunity to influence the school leaders, then, to use Meyer's word, this kind of sagacity has the power to "transform" our schools into places of understanding. Possibly, even, to push them beyond the kind of grade-acquisition institutions against which Michael Wesch railed last week.
After the cacophonous din from non-training complaints, bullying-plan-implementation professional development seminars, and CYA speeches has subsided, teachers are still left to wrestle with this issue of how best to meister their own burgers in the face of hurtful teenage ignorance. And, in the case of her six subjects, to do so with little or no (actual or perceived) administrative support. Because it is brought up during a dark time in the paper, the telling line she writes on page 12 in reference to just how much power one of the aforementioned "school leaders" can have on building climate, seems foreboding. But, when she avers that, "A Principal's priorities and attitudes towards issues permeate the school and shape the culture," she is really writing toward hope. And, when taken in tandem with the final line of the article, the two make for a powerful call to action for those looking for the so what now...? in this week's reading. We can be forgiven for missing it, however.
So,
Fact: teachers need to be everything to everybody, and still get all the paperwork in on time (9).
Fact: teachers care deeply about combating the hegemony of heteronormative patriarchy.
Fact: "...sexual and homophobic harassment are accepted parts of of school culture" (2).
Fact: teachers who intervene are led primarily by their own sense of justice based on self-experience (17).
Fact: school culture reflects the attitudes of those in power.
Fact: administrators are not the only "school leaders."
Fact: should faculty challenge the school stance, they will be subjected to punitive scheduling consequences.
Fact: if teachers, "...addressed the macro structures of the school," things might change (10).
Fact: teachers feel vulnerable & powerless when addressing these issues, even inside their classrooms (17).
So...
Fact: teachers do what they can, where they can, with what they can.
Because...
Fact: teachers need to be everything to everybody, and still get all the paperwork in on time (9).
But, if it's possible to act without impunity to influence the school leaders, then, to use Meyer's word, this kind of sagacity has the power to "transform" our schools into places of understanding. Possibly, even, to push them beyond the kind of grade-acquisition institutions against which Michael Wesch railed last week.
A little Nas to help us keep our chins up - all of us. "I Can."
Also: ran across this. Would be interested to hear from anyone who's seen the show...
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Vulnerability as a teaching tool.
Students do not value their education because the way it is transmitted is arcane and ineffectual.
Though Wesch does not specifically state that use of emerging technologies, specifically those that enable collaborative communication, will enhance and possibly save education, he means it. Through a video that exhibits the disengagement of a lecture hall's-worth of anthropology students, Professor Wesch illustrates the kind of prescriptive education his article holds up as Jurassic.
The synopsis of Neil Postman's ideas from The End of Education on page 6 are particularly interesting to me. Ultimately, he says, the stories people tell themselves about why they must learn, do not sustain the learning. The center of interest will not hold when the religious, cultural, and national narratives that had heretofore explained the importance of the process, are upended and devalidified. He seems to be forwarding the idea that education should firstly be in service of those it educates, rather than in service of an intangible abstract notion. Sort of a radical idea, I think. Instead of learning toward a goal, learning itself is the goal. Either that, or he is just substituting his doctrine of interconnectedness in for the crumbling golden calves of religion, nationality, and culture. In any case, the professor says that it is teaching's fault that millions of students are, right now, engaged in grade acquisition instead of learning. ("As teachers, we have created and maintain an education system that inevitably produces [what-do-we-have-to-know-for-the-test? questions.])
Not only does he think the education system creates students who devalue their learning, he assigns blame to the very architecture of the classroom. One of the opening shots of his video asks, "What are supposed to learn from sitting here?" And the article, in an extension of Marshal McLuhan's pith, intensifies the point: "The physical structure of the classrooms in which I work simply does not inspire dialogue and critical thinking." He goes on, "They are physical manifestations of the pervasive narrow and naive assumption that learning is simple information gathering," (6). This is something we ourselves have experienced during week three's meeting in the lecture hall. There is something about the environs of a large space that depersonalizes the experience of "adventure" for those involved, and it is true outside the classroom, as well. Think of the last stadium concert you saw (you probably had more fun with your five friends in the parking lot).
On page 5, Mr. Wesch says, "Learning is what makes us human." And though Skinnerians may disagree on technical grounds, he is probably right. At the core of what the Professor is suggesting, however, is something deeper. Something more radical that encouraging students to bring their electronics to class and use them co-creatively. More radical than handing out final exam bluebooks to be filled with an answer to a single question. More radical than rebranding anthropology as studies in "Digital Ethnography." As near as I can tell, the most radical thing he is doing is allowing himself to be vulnerable. He sort of puts this into words near the end of the piece on page 7, "I am in the wonderful but awkward position of not knowing exactly what I am doing but blissfully learning along the way." If the best learning does indeed take place outside of the classroom, it is not for the teacher's physical absence, but for the absence of the limiting pedagogical ideology that privileges the knowledge and experience of one (the instructor) over that of the whole.
If nothing else, human history may be the story of humans searching for, creating, worshiping, and eventually destroying the narratives that help explain our purposes. What Wesch hopes to convey in the article is that the story of us is the story of our collective us-ness Everyone is written into the script, and how many hypertextual lines we each have depends on our degree of participation in the digital dialogue.
A link to a Radiolab show about identity called Who Am I? wherein co-host Robert Krulwich makes the point that a human is merely a collection of stories it tells itself.
Though Wesch does not specifically state that use of emerging technologies, specifically those that enable collaborative communication, will enhance and possibly save education, he means it. Through a video that exhibits the disengagement of a lecture hall's-worth of anthropology students, Professor Wesch illustrates the kind of prescriptive education his article holds up as Jurassic.
The synopsis of Neil Postman's ideas from The End of Education on page 6 are particularly interesting to me. Ultimately, he says, the stories people tell themselves about why they must learn, do not sustain the learning. The center of interest will not hold when the religious, cultural, and national narratives that had heretofore explained the importance of the process, are upended and devalidified. He seems to be forwarding the idea that education should firstly be in service of those it educates, rather than in service of an intangible abstract notion. Sort of a radical idea, I think. Instead of learning toward a goal, learning itself is the goal. Either that, or he is just substituting his doctrine of interconnectedness in for the crumbling golden calves of religion, nationality, and culture. In any case, the professor says that it is teaching's fault that millions of students are, right now, engaged in grade acquisition instead of learning. ("As teachers, we have created and maintain an education system that inevitably produces [what-do-we-have-to-know-for-the-test? questions.])
Not only does he think the education system creates students who devalue their learning, he assigns blame to the very architecture of the classroom. One of the opening shots of his video asks, "What are supposed to learn from sitting here?" And the article, in an extension of Marshal McLuhan's pith, intensifies the point: "The physical structure of the classrooms in which I work simply does not inspire dialogue and critical thinking." He goes on, "They are physical manifestations of the pervasive narrow and naive assumption that learning is simple information gathering," (6). This is something we ourselves have experienced during week three's meeting in the lecture hall. There is something about the environs of a large space that depersonalizes the experience of "adventure" for those involved, and it is true outside the classroom, as well. Think of the last stadium concert you saw (you probably had more fun with your five friends in the parking lot).
On page 5, Mr. Wesch says, "Learning is what makes us human." And though Skinnerians may disagree on technical grounds, he is probably right. At the core of what the Professor is suggesting, however, is something deeper. Something more radical that encouraging students to bring their electronics to class and use them co-creatively. More radical than handing out final exam bluebooks to be filled with an answer to a single question. More radical than rebranding anthropology as studies in "Digital Ethnography." As near as I can tell, the most radical thing he is doing is allowing himself to be vulnerable. He sort of puts this into words near the end of the piece on page 7, "I am in the wonderful but awkward position of not knowing exactly what I am doing but blissfully learning along the way." If the best learning does indeed take place outside of the classroom, it is not for the teacher's physical absence, but for the absence of the limiting pedagogical ideology that privileges the knowledge and experience of one (the instructor) over that of the whole.
If nothing else, human history may be the story of humans searching for, creating, worshiping, and eventually destroying the narratives that help explain our purposes. What Wesch hopes to convey in the article is that the story of us is the story of our collective us-ness Everyone is written into the script, and how many hypertextual lines we each have depends on our degree of participation in the digital dialogue.
A link to a Radiolab show about identity called Who Am I? wherein co-host Robert Krulwich makes the point that a human is merely a collection of stories it tells itself.
Monday, October 17, 2011
"Oh my God, is that a Black Card?/I turn around and reply 'why yes/but I prefer the term African American Express'"
I am guilty of that which I am about to point out, but there are too many words being used.
At the conclusion of this week's reading, my one thought was that there is too much talk. I have no doubt that somebody more talented and transcendent than me (Nietzsche, The Buddha, Muhammad, Patti Smith, Jesus Christ, Gandhi, The Dalai Lama, your grandmother, John Cage, Winnie The Pooh) could say something knee-bucklingly captivating, ethereally pithy, and totally countercultural on this and everybody would just flip. They probably already have, but they got droned out as us regular people tend to overtalk on the important stuff. I've already admitted to it, but let me once again acknowledge the groaner irony of using too many words to make a point about using too many words. So...
From where she stands on Delpit's shoulders, Carter sees beyond her colleague's claim about extant dominant culture codes. From there, she leads us to a question that has not been specifically asked, namely: what other options exist besides learning those codes? And more specifically, what happens when people willingly cling to their own non-dominant codes? For Carter, whose ultimate goal is for schools to "...acknowledge and affirm the multiple capitals that exist" (76), the results speak plainly: to assimilate is wise and probably dangerous, but "Noncompliant believers require some guidance on how to maintain multiple cultural competencies in order to facilitate cross-cultural interactions" (76). In light of that, her research has uncovered that those favoring non-dominant codes are setting themselves up to live in a repetitive pattern - chasing and maintaining authenticity in terms of non-productive code acquisition.
As she presents it, the eponymous "keepin' it real" is at best a misguided behavior pattern aimed at securing identity and belonging in the black community. At its worst, it's a passive, non-participatory way for blacks to allow the propagation of stereotype and their own continued ghettoization. Early on, the author presents her thesis: instead of non-dominant blacks using their capital (cultural cache) "...for long-term economic gain, they use cultural capital to maintain group identity and distinctive cultural boundaries" (49). In other words, poorly. In the pages that follow, she quotes from interviews with high-school aged blacks, some of whom are focused on this process and reveal (self-consciously or not) that neither "acting" nor "being" black has any cultural cache because it means ascribing to non-powerful codes. Adrienne Ingram, a young student struggling against this vortex, even equates black vernacular with stupidity (58). In not so many words (ha), to keep it real means to voluntarily participate in cyclic self-hegemony.
She does, at one point on page 53, equate the behaviors patterns of keeping it real with, um, the revolutionary ideals on which the USA was founded. Which is also probably true and dangerous. Her research uncovered that authenticity is partly looking the part and mostly acting the part (54), and vaguely suggested that people who speak black vernacular and standard English are bilingual. Not surprisingly, however, fluency in black vernacular does not impart the kind of weighty significance on a person's character that speaking an additional language normally does. In fact, she returns to her metaphor when claiming that that blacks' deficiencies in school are due to their capital being undervalued (65). Almost like getting ripped off by a moneychanger.
In response to her section on cultural capital in context (60), I felt that others should do the talking. In the Eric B. and Rakim song "In the Ghetto," the 2nd verse hones in on his point: "I come correct and I won't look back/cuz it ain't where ya from, it's where ya at. I learn to relax in my room and escape from New York/and return through the the womb of the world as a thought." As does this line from the 3rd: "Rhymes I make give me real estate for me to own/wherever I bless a microphone." Similarly, on his excellent 1999 record, Mos Def visits the issue of metaphysical community in the song "Habitat." "We all got to have a place where we come from/that place where we come from is called home/And even though we may love this place on the map/It ain't where ya from it's where ya at." Each of these talented emcees is raising the idea that how one defines oneself ought to have much more to do with things spiritual and universal than things mundane and jejune (like labels and definitions). In that vein, I present the Nikki Giovanni poem "Ego Tripping (There May be a Reason Why)" set to music by the Sacramento hip-hop duo Blackalicious featuring Erinn Anova's voice.
In an segment of his television miniseries America Beyond the Color Line, Dr. Henry Louis Gates Jr.asks Reginald Hudlin, the director of Boomerang and House Party when black folks will be in a position to greenlight films. Mr. Hudlin says that it's difficult for 2 reasons: 1, that to be a studio executive (and therefore be in a position to greenlight) one must be possessed of a skillset that incorporates "drinking," "whitewater rafting," and otherwise schmoozing with the other execs. Add to this "assimilation" a degree of industry tenacity "aggressiveness" to get the job done. The trouble is that when aggressiveness is put into play by a black person, it comes off as scary to white folks. And 2, even though the industry is driven by what the last major success was, when that success is a black film, it doesn't generate the same kind of greenlighting buzz at the Monday morning executives meeting. In other words, it is an "invisible success."
Some are none too happy with his journalism, however.
Some things I could use help with:
1. What would Carter say about other instances of non-dominant code acquisition (comics, horror movies, model building)?
2. The way Carter served up dominant culture markers rubbed me the wrong way. To me, she insinuated that Eliot, Plath, Beethoven, and the MFA are musty. It's lazy, if everything is white, she could have used use less stereotyped examples. Reach a little.
At the conclusion of this week's reading, my one thought was that there is too much talk. I have no doubt that somebody more talented and transcendent than me (Nietzsche, The Buddha, Muhammad, Patti Smith, Jesus Christ, Gandhi, The Dalai Lama, your grandmother, John Cage, Winnie The Pooh) could say something knee-bucklingly captivating, ethereally pithy, and totally countercultural on this and everybody would just flip. They probably already have, but they got droned out as us regular people tend to overtalk on the important stuff. I've already admitted to it, but let me once again acknowledge the groaner irony of using too many words to make a point about using too many words. So...
From where she stands on Delpit's shoulders, Carter sees beyond her colleague's claim about extant dominant culture codes. From there, she leads us to a question that has not been specifically asked, namely: what other options exist besides learning those codes? And more specifically, what happens when people willingly cling to their own non-dominant codes? For Carter, whose ultimate goal is for schools to "...acknowledge and affirm the multiple capitals that exist" (76), the results speak plainly: to assimilate is wise and probably dangerous, but "Noncompliant believers require some guidance on how to maintain multiple cultural competencies in order to facilitate cross-cultural interactions" (76). In light of that, her research has uncovered that those favoring non-dominant codes are setting themselves up to live in a repetitive pattern - chasing and maintaining authenticity in terms of non-productive code acquisition.
As she presents it, the eponymous "keepin' it real" is at best a misguided behavior pattern aimed at securing identity and belonging in the black community. At its worst, it's a passive, non-participatory way for blacks to allow the propagation of stereotype and their own continued ghettoization. Early on, the author presents her thesis: instead of non-dominant blacks using their capital (cultural cache) "...for long-term economic gain, they use cultural capital to maintain group identity and distinctive cultural boundaries" (49). In other words, poorly. In the pages that follow, she quotes from interviews with high-school aged blacks, some of whom are focused on this process and reveal (self-consciously or not) that neither "acting" nor "being" black has any cultural cache because it means ascribing to non-powerful codes. Adrienne Ingram, a young student struggling against this vortex, even equates black vernacular with stupidity (58). In not so many words (ha), to keep it real means to voluntarily participate in cyclic self-hegemony.
She does, at one point on page 53, equate the behaviors patterns of keeping it real with, um, the revolutionary ideals on which the USA was founded. Which is also probably true and dangerous. Her research uncovered that authenticity is partly looking the part and mostly acting the part (54), and vaguely suggested that people who speak black vernacular and standard English are bilingual. Not surprisingly, however, fluency in black vernacular does not impart the kind of weighty significance on a person's character that speaking an additional language normally does. In fact, she returns to her metaphor when claiming that that blacks' deficiencies in school are due to their capital being undervalued (65). Almost like getting ripped off by a moneychanger.
In response to her section on cultural capital in context (60), I felt that others should do the talking. In the Eric B. and Rakim song "In the Ghetto," the 2nd verse hones in on his point: "I come correct and I won't look back/cuz it ain't where ya from, it's where ya at. I learn to relax in my room and escape from New York/and return through the the womb of the world as a thought." As does this line from the 3rd: "Rhymes I make give me real estate for me to own/wherever I bless a microphone." Similarly, on his excellent 1999 record, Mos Def visits the issue of metaphysical community in the song "Habitat." "We all got to have a place where we come from/that place where we come from is called home/And even though we may love this place on the map/It ain't where ya from it's where ya at." Each of these talented emcees is raising the idea that how one defines oneself ought to have much more to do with things spiritual and universal than things mundane and jejune (like labels and definitions). In that vein, I present the Nikki Giovanni poem "Ego Tripping (There May be a Reason Why)" set to music by the Sacramento hip-hop duo Blackalicious featuring Erinn Anova's voice.
In an segment of his television miniseries America Beyond the Color Line, Dr. Henry Louis Gates Jr.asks Reginald Hudlin, the director of Boomerang and House Party when black folks will be in a position to greenlight films. Mr. Hudlin says that it's difficult for 2 reasons: 1, that to be a studio executive (and therefore be in a position to greenlight) one must be possessed of a skillset that incorporates "drinking," "whitewater rafting," and otherwise schmoozing with the other execs. Add to this "assimilation" a degree of industry tenacity "aggressiveness" to get the job done. The trouble is that when aggressiveness is put into play by a black person, it comes off as scary to white folks. And 2, even though the industry is driven by what the last major success was, when that success is a black film, it doesn't generate the same kind of greenlighting buzz at the Monday morning executives meeting. In other words, it is an "invisible success."
Some are none too happy with his journalism, however.
Some things I could use help with:
1. What would Carter say about other instances of non-dominant code acquisition (comics, horror movies, model building)?
2. The way Carter served up dominant culture markers rubbed me the wrong way. To me, she insinuated that Eliot, Plath, Beethoven, and the MFA are musty. It's lazy, if everything is white, she could have used use less stereotyped examples. Reach a little.
Blackalicious - "Ego Trip by Nikki Giovanni"
And follow this link to hear Nikki Giovanni read her poem in her own words...
Eric B and Rakim - "In The Ghetto" - wait a while for the vocal to come in
Mos Def - "Habitat"
Monday, October 10, 2011
Odysseus, Coltrane, and Picasso
I think much of this will be exploratory, which, given the nature of the material, the author's first metaphor, and the titular men atop this post, seems appropriate.
As I read the August excerpts this week, I sat her down with Ms. Delpit in my mind and listened in on their conversation. Specifically, I was interested in what they would have to say to each other re: explicitness and The World As It Is versus The World As They Wish It To Be.
Pleasantries exchanged and coffee poured, I hear both women agree that to be explicit in one's instruction is necessary, incumbent upon those in positions of power, and ultimately a subversive act.
1. Necessary: Familial paradigms have evolved, not acknowledging this is erroneous.
The author dedicates seventy percent of Chapter Six: Designed Dialogicality to Mr. Lerner's intentional attempts to "bend and stretch" the understanding of his kindergartners. She shows both his successes and his struggles as his efforts alternatively elicit instances of nascent comprehension as well as snickering.
To teach a lesson on the differences in the students' constituent families such as Zeke does is common to kindergartens across the country, as August points out. But his specific inclusion of nontraditional "constellations" (such as on pages 189 & 191) taps gently on each student's glass, as it were. His deliberate emphasis on dialogicality allows for all the childrens' voices "to be woven into a verbal tapestry of family life" (195). That Cody was reticent to share a story about his family (made up of 2 moms) despite the social space his teacher created surprised August, who later postulated that he was not yet ready to "come out" (198). She also acknowledges a deeper point on page 195, namely, "Designed dialogicality, although planned and executed for its transformative potential, is not formulaic. And emancipatory pedagogy doesn't necessarily set everyone free."
It is here that Delpit would agree. And though she would celebrate Zeke's classroom methodology, she would contend that Cody did not share readily because he perceived that his story would run contrary to the established codes of heteronormality. Lerner works hard to provide a safe space for all his students, but there is little retrograde work he can do to un-form whatever non-inclusive socialization they have brought to his classroom. Even still, he, Delpit, and August would all argue that a thorough explication of the myriad geometry of contemporary families is of irreplaceable importance, and the sooner the better.
To not teach towards this end is irresponsible for August. I imagine her equating the omission of texts like Who's In A Family from curricula with teaching 2011 geography from a Khrushchev-era map. Her personal struggles aside, it seems that the imperative is less moral than evolutionary. Times have changed people have changed times, and it falls to the teachers to articulate that cycle to their charges. To resist, I suppose, is to willfully choose the negative side of the "if you're not part of the solution, you're part of the problem" equation.
2. Incumbent: If not teachers, with whom students spend critical time, then who?
It is precisely Zeke Lerner's role as The Most Powerful Person In The Room to develop situational lessons aimed at teaching inclusion, and do his best to correct his students' learned myopia. Chances are good that school children receive enough reinforcement of societal norms without any professional or formal schooling whatever. It is therefore the job of the educator to guide the class' understanding toward a greater and more inclusive perspective.
3. Subversive: "A family can just be"
Digital Underground emcee Shock G leads off his outfit's most successful track with a line aimed at dismantling conventional images of rappers in the late 80s and early 90s:
"All right, stop whatcha doin', cuz Imma bout to ruin the image and the style thatcha used to."
Popular culture is rife with examples such as this, both stated and simply acted out. Shock G tells us what he's going to do, but many others have just gone about their business, not necessarily setting out to, but nonetheless challenging the establishment in the process. Steve Reich's minimalism, Bjork's phrasing and vocalizations, and David Lynch's nonlinear narratives come to mind. Each of these artists were doing work that needed to be done firstly, and as a result, tapped on the glass secondly. The result is that their work has inspired countless people to do their own work, ad infinitum.
Though this kind of boundary expansion is lauded in the artistic realm, when the results have perceived negative effects on children, people get defensive. Jazz in the Twenties, rock and roll in the Fifties, and gangsta rap in the Nineties each garnered congressional attention at the vociferous demand of an enraged section of the public believing themselves acting in the best interest of the nation's children. And now, these genres are being taught in universities as lenses through which to view the human experience. One has even received the ultimate legitimizing tribute: a PBS memorialization at the hands of America's favorite documentarian, Ken Burns.
Though the pattern is familiar and unbroken, this remains a lesson we'd rather not learn, it seems. At the risk of sounding fatalistic, I offer that leaderless movements cannot be stopped, and that reconstituted understandings of legal, contractual relationships will happen. And the families that these relationships grow will eventually be just that, families. Free to "just be" (204). August provides a memorable example of a step taken by traditionalists to arrest just such progress when, on page 184, she recalls the pressure same-sex marriage opponents levied on the federal legislature to provide parents with the chance to demand their childrens' exemption from classroom activities in which the intent is , "...to have children accept the validity of, embrace, affirm, or celebrate views of human sexuality, gender identity, and marriage constructs." Traditional or otherwise, I suppose.
Perspective: Abstract expressionism, sheets of sound, and Argus.
Both John Coltrane and Pablo Picasso were men of Brobdingnagian appetites, and the Twentieth Century has benefited greatly from their indulgences. Each were totally obsessed with two things: a commitment to their craft, (often alienating sects of their audience) and the desire to drive their art beyond its confining borders.
Owing much to Duchamp early on, the Spaniard took the idea of illustrating multiple perspectives simultaneously and produced some of the most confoundingly original paintings of the last century. Similarly, while playing with giants in the Fifties, Coltrane developed his own sound and boldly pushed it into the next decade. Like Picasso, he wanted the audience to experience multiple perspectives at once, and played like it. His solos were flurries of notes, chords really, that he stacked upon one another, until all possible permutations were simultaneously achieved.
The results were very often beyond description, and so were summarily dismissed as decadent, self-important, or worse. As for me, I began thinking of their work the minute I began reading August, as their work's most enduring quality is the one most celebrated by the author: adventure. The European poet R.M. Rilke wrote that being in front of certain paintings helped him "stand more seeingly." This is the goal of the best of anything - teaching emphatically included. If "La Guernica" and "Giant Steps" can help us understand our world and our selves better by their challenge, their adventure, then teaching too can be artful in the same way and toward the same result.
When the epic hero Odysseus finally lands in Ithaca after twenty long years of thwarted returns home, he is greeted by Argus, his loyal dog - now long neglected by the sophomoric suitors who have overrun his palace in his absence. Though he has been disguised by Athena, the animal described as laying half-destroyed by flies upon a dung pile, recognizes his master's voice and manages a muzzle lift and a tail wag before giving up the ghost - satisfied to have seen Odysseus one last time.
I include this anecdote to illustrate August's use of "adventure" as basis for education. I agree with her. Being in the mindset of adventure is a wonderful place from which to begin learning. Since, to an adventurer, good fortune and bad fortune are the same - the goal is the journey. But no matter the beauty along the way, we are all in some way gripped and guided by nostos - homecoming. We long for what has not changed, what has remained in the face of time's passage. Normally, the nostos is the hero's ultimate goal, the reward for the journey, but perhaps it could be re-understood as benefiting those to which the hero is returning, as well. The hero returns not only with stories of battle, but simply of what else there is. And if the hero remains responsibly engaged with the stories, they will function just the same way as sharing time in the ZK.
As I read the August excerpts this week, I sat her down with Ms. Delpit in my mind and listened in on their conversation. Specifically, I was interested in what they would have to say to each other re: explicitness and The World As It Is versus The World As They Wish It To Be.
Pleasantries exchanged and coffee poured, I hear both women agree that to be explicit in one's instruction is necessary, incumbent upon those in positions of power, and ultimately a subversive act.
1. Necessary: Familial paradigms have evolved, not acknowledging this is erroneous.
The author dedicates seventy percent of Chapter Six: Designed Dialogicality to Mr. Lerner's intentional attempts to "bend and stretch" the understanding of his kindergartners. She shows both his successes and his struggles as his efforts alternatively elicit instances of nascent comprehension as well as snickering.
To teach a lesson on the differences in the students' constituent families such as Zeke does is common to kindergartens across the country, as August points out. But his specific inclusion of nontraditional "constellations" (such as on pages 189 & 191) taps gently on each student's glass, as it were. His deliberate emphasis on dialogicality allows for all the childrens' voices "to be woven into a verbal tapestry of family life" (195). That Cody was reticent to share a story about his family (made up of 2 moms) despite the social space his teacher created surprised August, who later postulated that he was not yet ready to "come out" (198). She also acknowledges a deeper point on page 195, namely, "Designed dialogicality, although planned and executed for its transformative potential, is not formulaic. And emancipatory pedagogy doesn't necessarily set everyone free."
It is here that Delpit would agree. And though she would celebrate Zeke's classroom methodology, she would contend that Cody did not share readily because he perceived that his story would run contrary to the established codes of heteronormality. Lerner works hard to provide a safe space for all his students, but there is little retrograde work he can do to un-form whatever non-inclusive socialization they have brought to his classroom. Even still, he, Delpit, and August would all argue that a thorough explication of the myriad geometry of contemporary families is of irreplaceable importance, and the sooner the better.
To not teach towards this end is irresponsible for August. I imagine her equating the omission of texts like Who's In A Family from curricula with teaching 2011 geography from a Khrushchev-era map. Her personal struggles aside, it seems that the imperative is less moral than evolutionary. Times have changed people have changed times, and it falls to the teachers to articulate that cycle to their charges. To resist, I suppose, is to willfully choose the negative side of the "if you're not part of the solution, you're part of the problem" equation.
2. Incumbent: If not teachers, with whom students spend critical time, then who?
It is precisely Zeke Lerner's role as The Most Powerful Person In The Room to develop situational lessons aimed at teaching inclusion, and do his best to correct his students' learned myopia. Chances are good that school children receive enough reinforcement of societal norms without any professional or formal schooling whatever. It is therefore the job of the educator to guide the class' understanding toward a greater and more inclusive perspective.
3. Subversive: "A family can just be"
Digital Underground emcee Shock G leads off his outfit's most successful track with a line aimed at dismantling conventional images of rappers in the late 80s and early 90s:
"All right, stop whatcha doin', cuz Imma bout to ruin the image and the style thatcha used to."
Popular culture is rife with examples such as this, both stated and simply acted out. Shock G tells us what he's going to do, but many others have just gone about their business, not necessarily setting out to, but nonetheless challenging the establishment in the process. Steve Reich's minimalism, Bjork's phrasing and vocalizations, and David Lynch's nonlinear narratives come to mind. Each of these artists were doing work that needed to be done firstly, and as a result, tapped on the glass secondly. The result is that their work has inspired countless people to do their own work, ad infinitum.
Though this kind of boundary expansion is lauded in the artistic realm, when the results have perceived negative effects on children, people get defensive. Jazz in the Twenties, rock and roll in the Fifties, and gangsta rap in the Nineties each garnered congressional attention at the vociferous demand of an enraged section of the public believing themselves acting in the best interest of the nation's children. And now, these genres are being taught in universities as lenses through which to view the human experience. One has even received the ultimate legitimizing tribute: a PBS memorialization at the hands of America's favorite documentarian, Ken Burns.
Though the pattern is familiar and unbroken, this remains a lesson we'd rather not learn, it seems. At the risk of sounding fatalistic, I offer that leaderless movements cannot be stopped, and that reconstituted understandings of legal, contractual relationships will happen. And the families that these relationships grow will eventually be just that, families. Free to "just be" (204). August provides a memorable example of a step taken by traditionalists to arrest just such progress when, on page 184, she recalls the pressure same-sex marriage opponents levied on the federal legislature to provide parents with the chance to demand their childrens' exemption from classroom activities in which the intent is , "...to have children accept the validity of, embrace, affirm, or celebrate views of human sexuality, gender identity, and marriage constructs." Traditional or otherwise, I suppose.
Perspective: Abstract expressionism, sheets of sound, and Argus.
Both John Coltrane and Pablo Picasso were men of Brobdingnagian appetites, and the Twentieth Century has benefited greatly from their indulgences. Each were totally obsessed with two things: a commitment to their craft, (often alienating sects of their audience) and the desire to drive their art beyond its confining borders.
Owing much to Duchamp early on, the Spaniard took the idea of illustrating multiple perspectives simultaneously and produced some of the most confoundingly original paintings of the last century. Similarly, while playing with giants in the Fifties, Coltrane developed his own sound and boldly pushed it into the next decade. Like Picasso, he wanted the audience to experience multiple perspectives at once, and played like it. His solos were flurries of notes, chords really, that he stacked upon one another, until all possible permutations were simultaneously achieved.
The results were very often beyond description, and so were summarily dismissed as decadent, self-important, or worse. As for me, I began thinking of their work the minute I began reading August, as their work's most enduring quality is the one most celebrated by the author: adventure. The European poet R.M. Rilke wrote that being in front of certain paintings helped him "stand more seeingly." This is the goal of the best of anything - teaching emphatically included. If "La Guernica" and "Giant Steps" can help us understand our world and our selves better by their challenge, their adventure, then teaching too can be artful in the same way and toward the same result.
When the epic hero Odysseus finally lands in Ithaca after twenty long years of thwarted returns home, he is greeted by Argus, his loyal dog - now long neglected by the sophomoric suitors who have overrun his palace in his absence. Though he has been disguised by Athena, the animal described as laying half-destroyed by flies upon a dung pile, recognizes his master's voice and manages a muzzle lift and a tail wag before giving up the ghost - satisfied to have seen Odysseus one last time.
I include this anecdote to illustrate August's use of "adventure" as basis for education. I agree with her. Being in the mindset of adventure is a wonderful place from which to begin learning. Since, to an adventurer, good fortune and bad fortune are the same - the goal is the journey. But no matter the beauty along the way, we are all in some way gripped and guided by nostos - homecoming. We long for what has not changed, what has remained in the face of time's passage. Normally, the nostos is the hero's ultimate goal, the reward for the journey, but perhaps it could be re-understood as benefiting those to which the hero is returning, as well. The hero returns not only with stories of battle, but simply of what else there is. And if the hero remains responsibly engaged with the stories, they will function just the same way as sharing time in the ZK.
Digital Underground's "The Humpty Dance"
"Giant Steps" 1960
Coltrane's version of "Summertime" from the following year. His solo style is prevalent throughout, but if you literally only have a minute, listen to 1:00-2:00.
Picasso's 1937 piece "La Guernica"
"Weeping Woman" from the same year.
Monday, October 3, 2011
Vladimir, Estragon, and Stan Karp are waiting for Superman
Watching the speech, reading the transcript, and blogging at once. Mostly.
Stan Karp, toward the end of his introduction, seems to be positing Waiting for Superman as an endorsement vehicle of the prepackaged, business-model "Success for All" programs dismantled as ineffectual in last week's Kozol piece. Karp says,
"What is really new and alarming—and what makes a film like WfS so insidious—are the large strides that those promoting business models and market reforms as the key to solving educational problems have made in attaching their agenda to the urgent need of poor communities who have, in too many cases, been badly served by the current system."
I'm 17'13" in (just after the Fox news quip). Stan Karp appears to say that NCLB, managerial-style administration, and privatization, despite their employ as response tools to low test scores and lowered global rankings, have in fact left American education the worse for wear. And further, should power continue to be taken away from teachers and given to politicos and managers, he suggests the education system will fail in spectacular fashion not unlike the housing market and healthcare:
"Today a deepening corporate/foundation/political alliance is using this same test-based accountability to drill down further into the fabric of public education to close schools, transform the teaching profession, and increase the authority of mayors and managers while decreasing the power of educators.
What we’re facing is a policy environment where bad ideas nurtured for years in conservative think tanks and private foundations have taken root in Congress, the White House and the federal education department, and are now aligned with powerful national and state campaigns fueled with unprecedented amounts of both public and private dollars.
Unless we change direction, the combined impact of these proposals will do for public schooling what market reform has done for housing, health care and the economy: produce fabulous profits for a few and unequal access & outcomes for the many."
This is where my confusion is beginning, because it seems that limited-government Republicans (presumably the group most vocally supportive of a businesslike model of public education) would never acquiesce to taking on the responsibility of writing and implementing countrywide curricula. Not to mention providing the funds for such an endeavor. And with the mightily flawed checks-and-balances system that failed to protect millions of Americans from the ramifications of the market collapse.
At 20 minutes in, I see that Mr. Karp's point is that the movie seems to point an accusatory finger at "bad teachers," citing that group as responsible for poor test scores and dropout rates while simultaneously gladhanding the "good teachers" who can turn around failing students and help everyone reach the benchmarks. In actuality, he says, much more has to do with inherited inequality:
But when it comes to student achievement—and especially the narrow kind of culturally-slanted, pseudo-achievement captured by standardized test scores—there is no evidence that the test score gaps you read about constantly in the papers can be traced to bad teaching, and there is overwhelming evidence that they closely reflect the inequalities of race, class, and opportunity that follow students to school.
Perhaps the movie itself is not making the point that bad teachers are to blame, but based on what I hear Karp saying, it really doesn't matter. If people THINK teachers are to blame, then they ARE to blame. For Karp, this is a McSolution. It's hastily arrived-at, indicative of narrow environmental consideration, and lacking in foresight. But it will probably work RIGHT NOW. He says that oftentimes teachers who finish on top of performance lists one year will be at the bottom the next, and that the reverse is true, as well:
"The National Academy of Sciences found 20–30% error rates in value-added teacher ratings systems based on their own dubious premises. Teachers in the bottom group one year were often in the top group the next and vice versa. The same teachers measured by two different standardized tests produced completely inconsistent results."
Speech is over now.
It may be a flaw, but I just think good teachers make sense make sense when they speak. I'm even at the point where I wanted to believe Stan Karp because of the way he looked - casual and wise, learned and convinced, experienced yet still hungry. He looks like good teachers I've had, and he looks like people I have learned to trust. While watching him speak and reading his words, I had the feeling I was watching someone who was articulating something I feel but hadn't yet found the cause or means to say aloud.
I am looking forward to watching the film this week, and just now I am of two minds about it. I feel firstly that this film has probably made people pay more attention to public schools than they were five years ago (any maybe publicity is good publicity), but I am also very skeptical that what I've imagined the movie to be about (based on the Karp speech, and this week's research) is anywhere close to the truth.
In my travels I found a couple of videos from the rally that Karp mentions. The first features Matt Damon and his mother, a lifelong educator and public school activist. The longer version is below, and an abbreviated clip with a transcript can be found by following this link.
Also of interest was this clip, where Mr. Damon offers a well-reasoned rebuttal of an interviewer's myopic (or baiting) question. There is also a strange splicing moment...
Evidently, reason.tv sent the above reporter to the rally. Parts of her various conversations, including one with Jonathan Kozol, are included in a short reel here. The Matt Damon one is also partly included.
To close, in the Michael Azzerad book about independent music in the 1980s, Our Band Could Be Your Life, I remember reading something to the effect that the creative underground always flourishes richly in times when the political climate is most oppressive. The following piece from slam poet Taylor Mali, written in 1999, is one of my favorite poems about the job I do. I think it's fitting to include here as an example of the kind of fire-and-brimstone conviction that ignorant capitalists can inspire in the heart of a true educator. It's called "What Teachers Make."
Stan Karp, toward the end of his introduction, seems to be positing Waiting for Superman as an endorsement vehicle of the prepackaged, business-model "Success for All" programs dismantled as ineffectual in last week's Kozol piece. Karp says,
"What is really new and alarming—and what makes a film like WfS so insidious—are the large strides that those promoting business models and market reforms as the key to solving educational problems have made in attaching their agenda to the urgent need of poor communities who have, in too many cases, been badly served by the current system."
I'm 17'13" in (just after the Fox news quip). Stan Karp appears to say that NCLB, managerial-style administration, and privatization, despite their employ as response tools to low test scores and lowered global rankings, have in fact left American education the worse for wear. And further, should power continue to be taken away from teachers and given to politicos and managers, he suggests the education system will fail in spectacular fashion not unlike the housing market and healthcare:
"Today a deepening corporate/foundation/political alliance is using this same test-based accountability to drill down further into the fabric of public education to close schools, transform the teaching profession, and increase the authority of mayors and managers while decreasing the power of educators.
What we’re facing is a policy environment where bad ideas nurtured for years in conservative think tanks and private foundations have taken root in Congress, the White House and the federal education department, and are now aligned with powerful national and state campaigns fueled with unprecedented amounts of both public and private dollars.
Unless we change direction, the combined impact of these proposals will do for public schooling what market reform has done for housing, health care and the economy: produce fabulous profits for a few and unequal access & outcomes for the many."
This is where my confusion is beginning, because it seems that limited-government Republicans (presumably the group most vocally supportive of a businesslike model of public education) would never acquiesce to taking on the responsibility of writing and implementing countrywide curricula. Not to mention providing the funds for such an endeavor. And with the mightily flawed checks-and-balances system that failed to protect millions of Americans from the ramifications of the market collapse.
At 20 minutes in, I see that Mr. Karp's point is that the movie seems to point an accusatory finger at "bad teachers," citing that group as responsible for poor test scores and dropout rates while simultaneously gladhanding the "good teachers" who can turn around failing students and help everyone reach the benchmarks. In actuality, he says, much more has to do with inherited inequality:
But when it comes to student achievement—and especially the narrow kind of culturally-slanted, pseudo-achievement captured by standardized test scores—there is no evidence that the test score gaps you read about constantly in the papers can be traced to bad teaching, and there is overwhelming evidence that they closely reflect the inequalities of race, class, and opportunity that follow students to school.
Perhaps the movie itself is not making the point that bad teachers are to blame, but based on what I hear Karp saying, it really doesn't matter. If people THINK teachers are to blame, then they ARE to blame. For Karp, this is a McSolution. It's hastily arrived-at, indicative of narrow environmental consideration, and lacking in foresight. But it will probably work RIGHT NOW. He says that oftentimes teachers who finish on top of performance lists one year will be at the bottom the next, and that the reverse is true, as well:
"The National Academy of Sciences found 20–30% error rates in value-added teacher ratings systems based on their own dubious premises. Teachers in the bottom group one year were often in the top group the next and vice versa. The same teachers measured by two different standardized tests produced completely inconsistent results."
Speech is over now.
It may be a flaw, but I just think good teachers make sense make sense when they speak. I'm even at the point where I wanted to believe Stan Karp because of the way he looked - casual and wise, learned and convinced, experienced yet still hungry. He looks like good teachers I've had, and he looks like people I have learned to trust. While watching him speak and reading his words, I had the feeling I was watching someone who was articulating something I feel but hadn't yet found the cause or means to say aloud.
I am looking forward to watching the film this week, and just now I am of two minds about it. I feel firstly that this film has probably made people pay more attention to public schools than they were five years ago (any maybe publicity is good publicity), but I am also very skeptical that what I've imagined the movie to be about (based on the Karp speech, and this week's research) is anywhere close to the truth.
In my travels I found a couple of videos from the rally that Karp mentions. The first features Matt Damon and his mother, a lifelong educator and public school activist. The longer version is below, and an abbreviated clip with a transcript can be found by following this link.
Also of interest was this clip, where Mr. Damon offers a well-reasoned rebuttal of an interviewer's myopic (or baiting) question. There is also a strange splicing moment...
Evidently, reason.tv sent the above reporter to the rally. Parts of her various conversations, including one with Jonathan Kozol, are included in a short reel here. The Matt Damon one is also partly included.
To close, in the Michael Azzerad book about independent music in the 1980s, Our Band Could Be Your Life, I remember reading something to the effect that the creative underground always flourishes richly in times when the political climate is most oppressive. The following piece from slam poet Taylor Mali, written in 1999, is one of my favorite poems about the job I do. I think it's fitting to include here as an example of the kind of fire-and-brimstone conviction that ignorant capitalists can inspire in the heart of a true educator. It's called "What Teachers Make."
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Monday, September 26, 2011
Kozol Pt. 1
It took me a few pages to adjust to Kozol's understanding and use of "segregation," "isolation," and "diversity." What I experienced was something like vertigo, I guess, and it's still only beginning to sink in as conceivable that an eighteen year veteran of the New York public school system could go her entire career and teach only one white student (3).
In addition to positing (through the words of underserved students) that the extant inequality he observes in N.Y. schools is more systematic than systemic, Kozol makes the case for it starting even earlier due to the proliferation of pre-preschool education in the form of "Baby Ivies" (9). He seems to suggest that even those concepts traditionally presented during and associated with child rearing ["...how to hold a crayon or a pencil, identify(ing) perhaps a couple of shapes or colors, or recogniz(ing) that printed pages go from left to right." (9)] can be monetized and therefore put further out of reach of those who would benefit most from its availability. Instead, admission spots in these ultra-elite institutions are fought for and divvied up among those with the means to pay. His idea is to illustrate how this has become just one more instrument by which the wealthy measure their wealth. In terms, I suppose, of how much further from the massive underserved population it places them.
(2 or 3 hours and some leftover dirty rice later) I am wondering just what it is Jonathan Kozol leaves us with. If there are direct marching orders, I might be missing them. If he eloquently and quantitatively enumerates the laughable way those in schools with political interests ascribe diversity to a student body that is 99.6% racially homogeneous, he just as adroitly points out how the achievement gap is widened by unequal access to early education. Later, he holds up Success For All and its ilk as toothless, and exposes the uselessness of procedurally shuttling students into classes far beneath their ability and interest level.
I think...
I'm pretty sure that's what he's doing here...
In any case, he may be making a point that transcends the format of "this good, that bad." It may be just that he is pointing out that work still needs doing (21-22). Either that or he does not leave us with much at all, and that just sort of sounds wrong.
What: the author writes that, for a variety of reasons including the recent dismantling of Brown v. Board of Education's mandates (20), today's schools are just as segregated as they were pre-integration.
So What: This trend resurrects the dangers people worked hard to eradicate the first time around.
What Now: Keep working, but some methods are better than others. Turning schools into Skinnerboxes is not preferable.
In addition to positing (through the words of underserved students) that the extant inequality he observes in N.Y. schools is more systematic than systemic, Kozol makes the case for it starting even earlier due to the proliferation of pre-preschool education in the form of "Baby Ivies" (9). He seems to suggest that even those concepts traditionally presented during and associated with child rearing ["...how to hold a crayon or a pencil, identify(ing) perhaps a couple of shapes or colors, or recogniz(ing) that printed pages go from left to right." (9)] can be monetized and therefore put further out of reach of those who would benefit most from its availability. Instead, admission spots in these ultra-elite institutions are fought for and divvied up among those with the means to pay. His idea is to illustrate how this has become just one more instrument by which the wealthy measure their wealth. In terms, I suppose, of how much further from the massive underserved population it places them.
(2 or 3 hours and some leftover dirty rice later) I am wondering just what it is Jonathan Kozol leaves us with. If there are direct marching orders, I might be missing them. If he eloquently and quantitatively enumerates the laughable way those in schools with political interests ascribe diversity to a student body that is 99.6% racially homogeneous, he just as adroitly points out how the achievement gap is widened by unequal access to early education. Later, he holds up Success For All and its ilk as toothless, and exposes the uselessness of procedurally shuttling students into classes far beneath their ability and interest level.
I think...
I'm pretty sure that's what he's doing here...
In any case, he may be making a point that transcends the format of "this good, that bad." It may be just that he is pointing out that work still needs doing (21-22). Either that or he does not leave us with much at all, and that just sort of sounds wrong.
What: the author writes that, for a variety of reasons including the recent dismantling of Brown v. Board of Education's mandates (20), today's schools are just as segregated as they were pre-integration.
So What: This trend resurrects the dangers people worked hard to eradicate the first time around.
What Now: Keep working, but some methods are better than others. Turning schools into Skinnerboxes is not preferable.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Common Beliefs
5. Neither agree nor disagree. I agree with the first sentence to the degree that any young, impressionable person models what they see most. I disagree with the second half because only I can undermine my efforts.
Though it may be true that children from families whose elder members spurned or were spurned by formal education have a statistical tendency to devalue teaching and learning, that really amounts to a bunch of hooey when the kid is in front of me. The power of tenacious care and love is bigger than that.
The family and community and neighborhood and psychic vultures and culture vultures and the glitter of false power can undermine my results as manifested in the kid-as-product, but it is only when I lose sight of my commitment to love that my effort suffers.
6. Disagree. Students of every ability level can be challenged according to their needs, irrespective of ELL status. It is what the families who relinquish their children to us expect. The students look for it, too, and relish the opportunity to perform successfully in their own ways. If a student struggles with language proficiency, that IS their academic challenge. You gotta help.
7. Neither agree nor disagree. If the kid needs their effort to be rewarded, reward it. If not, leave it alone. “...because building their self-esteem is important” seems a little too mawkish, so I’ll just stick to writing that motivating students is tricky and fun. Sometimes we have to holler at them and break up their pity party, and sometime we have to stand along the marathon route and hand out water. It’s not about the kid, it’s about us.
8. Neither agree nor disagree. I think it’s bad business to make decisions based on negatives, eg, “...so that they do not become discouraged.” If I speak about negatives, they will think in negatives. Sort of like what Ray said in this week’s blog post about his syllabus.
9. Agree. And this would be just as true with the words about race and ethnicity removed. I guess the way I feel about it is that if there were no linguistic construct for referring to race, teachers would just say, “The only way that kid will learn parts of speech is by writing little songs about them. It’s the damnest thing... Fascinating, though, I tell you.”
10. Agree. Although I agree, I think this question presumes a bit too much. Namely, not all the turtles are slow in the same way, and not all the rabbits are fast in the same way. It’s been my experience with the more vociferous proponents of this theory that they assume that all impediments to learning are removed when teaching a homogeneous group of high speed students.
11. Disagree. It seems to me that if a creative teacher is doing an admirable job of teaching ELL students, they will be involved in complex learning tasks as a matter of grasping the basics.
12. Disagree. What matters more than your students?
13. Neither agree nor disagree. I agree with pt. 1 and disagree with pt. 2. I think I remember reading something that said that the collegiality of a faculty is increased when they readily discuss sticky issues. Everybody who teaches has an opinion on the role or effect of race, and it would do well to talk about it. The same article may have also said something to the effect that students behave more genially around each other when they perceive a healthy relationship among the faculty.
Though it may be true that children from families whose elder members spurned or were spurned by formal education have a statistical tendency to devalue teaching and learning, that really amounts to a bunch of hooey when the kid is in front of me. The power of tenacious care and love is bigger than that.
The family and community and neighborhood and psychic vultures and culture vultures and the glitter of false power can undermine my results as manifested in the kid-as-product, but it is only when I lose sight of my commitment to love that my effort suffers.
6. Disagree. Students of every ability level can be challenged according to their needs, irrespective of ELL status. It is what the families who relinquish their children to us expect. The students look for it, too, and relish the opportunity to perform successfully in their own ways. If a student struggles with language proficiency, that IS their academic challenge. You gotta help.
7. Neither agree nor disagree. If the kid needs their effort to be rewarded, reward it. If not, leave it alone. “...because building their self-esteem is important” seems a little too mawkish, so I’ll just stick to writing that motivating students is tricky and fun. Sometimes we have to holler at them and break up their pity party, and sometime we have to stand along the marathon route and hand out water. It’s not about the kid, it’s about us.
8. Neither agree nor disagree. I think it’s bad business to make decisions based on negatives, eg, “...so that they do not become discouraged.” If I speak about negatives, they will think in negatives. Sort of like what Ray said in this week’s blog post about his syllabus.
9. Agree. And this would be just as true with the words about race and ethnicity removed. I guess the way I feel about it is that if there were no linguistic construct for referring to race, teachers would just say, “The only way that kid will learn parts of speech is by writing little songs about them. It’s the damnest thing... Fascinating, though, I tell you.”
10. Agree. Although I agree, I think this question presumes a bit too much. Namely, not all the turtles are slow in the same way, and not all the rabbits are fast in the same way. It’s been my experience with the more vociferous proponents of this theory that they assume that all impediments to learning are removed when teaching a homogeneous group of high speed students.
11. Disagree. It seems to me that if a creative teacher is doing an admirable job of teaching ELL students, they will be involved in complex learning tasks as a matter of grasping the basics.
12. Disagree. What matters more than your students?
13. Neither agree nor disagree. I agree with pt. 1 and disagree with pt. 2. I think I remember reading something that said that the collegiality of a faculty is increased when they readily discuss sticky issues. Everybody who teaches has an opinion on the role or effect of race, and it would do well to talk about it. The same article may have also said something to the effect that students behave more genially around each other when they perceive a healthy relationship among the faculty.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Black Codes (From The Underground) Cont.
For Delpit, who endorses a top-down approach, the black student suffering at the whim of dominant culture is only able to affect change from a position of power when a full understanding of white codes has been internalized (40). Accordingly, she calls in black students (and non-students, presumably) not for sublimation of the expert, "...code they already possess...", (40) in favor of that of the dominant culture, but for the development of a situational awareness of when to access each (44). In this way, black children can mirror the experience of her colleague's native Alaskan students who are taught to draw on their rich store of "village" language, history, and tradition in their acquisition of white codes (41). This sounds not unlike Luis Moll.
Another visual I had while reading was the scene in the coming-of-age film ATL, (Netflix it, it's good) where one of the characters refuses an ace-in-the-hole letter of recommendation from a successful businessman because he feels like the man "sold out" and "lost who he was" (more or less) in the pursuit of his accomplishments. In other words, the young man feels like the older man let the carbon-monoxide white codes usurp any authenticity lent him by his expert black codes. At its core, the film is probably about identity. Something like, "does our identity lead us to choose what's important or does what we consider important make us who we are?" Or something... Perhaps there's even a connection to be made by extrapolating the theory and aligning it with the different racial understandings of authority in the final paragraph on pg. 35. In any case, it's more than worth a watch in this writer's opinion.
Delpit's "gatekeepers" are interesting, as well, and maybe stand as the most transferable concept she introduces. The idea that an individual's cultural ascent is arrested at inopportune and unforeseen moments by reminders that they are not (and will never be) ready/worthy/studied/landed enough is likely something that many people have experienced. First-wave feminism's glass ceiling comes readily to mind. And when I think of things like this, I also think of Robert Greene's 36th Law of Power (out of 48, BTW) which reads thusly: "Law 36: Disdain Things you cannot have: Ignoring them is the best Revenge
By acknowledging a petty problem you give it existence and credibility. The more attention you pay an enemy, the stronger you make him; and a small mistake is often made worse and more visible when you try to fix it. It is sometimes best to leave things alone. If there is something you want but cannot have, show contempt for it. The less interest you reveal, the more superior you seem."
So, there's that...
My final thought arose while considering all of these points (Delpit's, yours, mine) in terms of someone with a mind too limited or too transcendent to meddle in the nuance about which we are so (dis?)passionately writing. Not for nothing, but I can't help thinking that someone with the "beginner's mind" so prized in Shintoism, the mind of a Down's Syndrome person, or that of a musical savant just wouldn't expend the energy. And it seems that Delpit has devoted her conclusion to elucidating this very point - that our words amount to little more than crowd chatter in a game developed, played, refereed, and attended by academics (46). Gimmie a P! Gimmie an H! Gimmie a D! What's that spelllll?
Black Codes (From The Underground)
As I was reading the Delpit piece, I kept seeing the cover art from the 1985 Wynton Marsalis album Black Codes (From the Underground). It ended up being my visual anchor.
Like other powerful human endowments, language is frustratingly euphoric. It is both riptide and lifeguard, but its inescapable tautology is all we have That discussions of the ineffable must proceed from such a blunt instrument is damaging at worst, laughable at best, and an object lesson in diminishing returns.
As one of the principal components of her "codes," Delpit posits language as the currency with which to purchase success in white culture (25). Accordingly, it seems that she is forwarding an idea of language as "skill" - something direct and explicit that can be understood by all, but especially appreciated by those without power.
It's late, I'll finish tomorrow.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
NOFX - Don't Call Me White - YouTube
Something I was thinking about while reading the Johnson piece.
NOFX - Don't Call Me White - YouTube:Don't call me white, Don't call me white
Don't call me white, Don't call me white
The connotations wearing my nerves thin
Could it be semantics generating the mess we're in?
I understand that language breeds stereotype
But what's the explanation for the malice, for the spite?
Don't call me white, Don't call me white
Don't call me white, Don't call me white
I wasn't brought here, I was born
Circumsized, categorized, allegiance sworn,
Does this mean I have to take such shit
For being fairskinned? No!
I ain't a part of no conspiracy,
I'm just you're average Joe.
Don't call me white, Don't call me white
Don't call me white, Don't call me white
Represents everything I hate,
The soap shoved in your mouth to cleanse the mind
The vast majority of sheep
A buttoned collar, starched and bleached
Constricting veins, the blood flow to the brain slows
They're so fuckin' ordinary white
Don't call me white, Don't call me white
Don't call me white, Don't call me white
We're better off this way
Say what you're gonna say
So go ahead and label me
An asshole cause I can
Accept responsibility, for what I've done
But not for who I am
Don't call me white, Don't call me white
Don't call me white, Don't call me white
Don't call me white, Don't call me white
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
About the Author
Though he still sometimes tries to avoid it, Seth has always been a teacher. Recently, he has made a career of it. Soon after completing an undergraduate education, he began subbing in the Blackstone-Millville School District. A fortunate maternity leave allowed him to both teach 6th grade English for the remainder of the 05-06 school year, and apply for his current position at Tri-County Regional Vocational Technical High School, where he has taught in various capacities since.
His classroom interests include fostering an appreciation for poetry, etymology, minimalism, serial music, aleatoric music, and knock-your-socks-off vocabulary sentences. He also coaches the track and field team.
Mr. Curran lives in Woonsocket.
His classroom interests include fostering an appreciation for poetry, etymology, minimalism, serial music, aleatoric music, and knock-your-socks-off vocabulary sentences. He also coaches the track and field team.
Mr. Curran lives in Woonsocket.
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