I had an argument with a friend this past week, when she informed me that studying education was silly. First of all, I wondered why would she say that to me, knowing full well what I'm in school for, and second, we had to back up for a minute. And we had a conversation/I forced her to listen to my side, wherein I presented irrefutable (to me) evidence that yes, we should, in fact, educate teachers. The teaching profession is not made up of individuals who have some special affinity for imparting knowledge to others; in fact, what we should really be asking here is what this knowledge is and who that knowledge is supporting. Needless to say, the articles for this week all did an outstanding job of giving me the most important point of my argument. What's missing from this view of education as a "knowledge of good classroom strategies" is the ultimate goal of education--changing society!
If the solution to oppression is, as Paul Freire says, "not to 'integrate' them [students] into the structure of oppression, but to transform that structure so that they can become 'beings for themselves,'" (p. 74), then yes, teachers have a lot to learn. We can't only learn best practices, but we must also learn why that is and who the practices are serving. It's tough to do this kind of critical thinking and exploring as an individual apart from a supportive group of learners. Not only that, but we are also doing our students and our students' futures a disservice if we think that good teaching merely consists of content knowledge. As Bomer & Bomer point out, "much of our teaching focuses on the individual (to the exclusion of collective social knowledge and action) and ends up reproducing the same old dominant culture and social divisions" (2001, p. 1). And if Bomer & Bomer can say that about their teaching, then what about the rest of us pleebs?
Now that we realize that teacher education is essential (again, not just in the sense of having a bag of good strategies on hand), and we know that effecting social justice through our students is our essential goal, how do we go about including this in the curriculum? Wolk points out several young adult titles that bring up issues of social justice. Long proposes using photographs of historical events or struggles as a starting point for critical literacy and activism. Pescatore presents the use of current events in the English classroom as a way to teaching critical thinking and writing skills. I think all of these writers presented compelling arguments for the practical implementation of critical literacy in the classroom; now, it's up to us to put forth the time and effort involved in carefully using these structures to promote social awareness and justice. And that's really what it all comes down to--using your time to prepare to engage with students in a thoughtful manner. That thoughtful manner isn't just a frame of mind that you're born into if you're a "good teacher." Good teachers must have good teachers as well. In any case, studying education won't seem too silly when our students are becoming the ones who are charged with running this increasingly globally connected society.
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Monday, November 26, 2012
It's 7 AM...Do You Know What Your Child is Reading?
It's funny to think about how only a few months ago, I would not have questioned the premise behind Lisa Simon's article on scaffolding complex texts. I understand that we want to give our students the tools to read across all genres and eras, especially when thinking about what they might be required to read in college. But do we have to make them read stuffy texts like House of Mirth? I was required to read this novel in college for an American Lit class, and even I had trouble with it, partly due to its length. I think that we can teach students the same concepts with other texts; even teaching one of Wharton's short stories would be more accessible and probably much more interesting for the teacher and the students. Simon mentions several times that students had problems with engagement. So, yes, we don't want to "teach down" to students because they are capable of reading and understanding difficult texts, but if a constant issue is that they are not engaged, then is the exercise of making them read a complex and long novel really doing anything helpful? Again, I think that all of the helpful points about reading a novel from a different era can be taught from a short story, which is probably much easier to engage with. I think that we have such a limited amount of time with students that we should open up the curriculum to expose them to more texts, not force them to slog through one novel for weeks.
That being said, I have watched the students in my class at Reagan engage with their individual texts for a couple of months now. Although they get 25 to 30 minutes at the beginning of each class period to silently read their books, I've seen several students still only a quarter of the way through their chosen books. And generally, these books are not very difficult as far as reading levels, content, or length. I'm concerned that time has not been given to them on an individual level to talk about their texts. Their end goal for reading is supposed to be a project that they'll work on in a couple of weeks, but it doesn't seem to motivate anyone because they're not being conferenced with on a regular basis. On top of that, I wonder if some of the students are having problems with comprehension; however, I don't feel like it's my place to work on these issues, because the reading time is supposed to be completely silent. Instead, I can only read a book with them and hope that the time is useful.
This process of individual reading also makes me concerned about issues like the ones brought up Wendy Glenn and Marshall, Staples & Gibson. These authors show that all kinds of fiction are valid for students to read, whether the fiction is considered "literary" or not, but there are issues of money and gender are raised by certain texts. If we are not aware of what our students are getting out of the individual texts that they're reading, then we're allowing dominant systems of power to be passed down to another generation. Instead, like the authors point out, we must teach students to question characters, their choices, and the ideas that they're promoting. We can't utilize critical literacy and foster social justice if we aren't even aware of the books that we require students to read for 30 minutes a day.
Obviously, I have learned this semester that it is difficult for me to observe under someone else's system and not want to take charge. Since I have such difficulty with this concept, it's definitely something I need to work on. It's been a great learning process so far, but I'm still mostly ready to be the one in charge. :)
That being said, I have watched the students in my class at Reagan engage with their individual texts for a couple of months now. Although they get 25 to 30 minutes at the beginning of each class period to silently read their books, I've seen several students still only a quarter of the way through their chosen books. And generally, these books are not very difficult as far as reading levels, content, or length. I'm concerned that time has not been given to them on an individual level to talk about their texts. Their end goal for reading is supposed to be a project that they'll work on in a couple of weeks, but it doesn't seem to motivate anyone because they're not being conferenced with on a regular basis. On top of that, I wonder if some of the students are having problems with comprehension; however, I don't feel like it's my place to work on these issues, because the reading time is supposed to be completely silent. Instead, I can only read a book with them and hope that the time is useful.
This process of individual reading also makes me concerned about issues like the ones brought up Wendy Glenn and Marshall, Staples & Gibson. These authors show that all kinds of fiction are valid for students to read, whether the fiction is considered "literary" or not, but there are issues of money and gender are raised by certain texts. If we are not aware of what our students are getting out of the individual texts that they're reading, then we're allowing dominant systems of power to be passed down to another generation. Instead, like the authors point out, we must teach students to question characters, their choices, and the ideas that they're promoting. We can't utilize critical literacy and foster social justice if we aren't even aware of the books that we require students to read for 30 minutes a day.
Obviously, I have learned this semester that it is difficult for me to observe under someone else's system and not want to take charge. Since I have such difficulty with this concept, it's definitely something I need to work on. It's been a great learning process so far, but I'm still mostly ready to be the one in charge. :)
Sunday, November 11, 2012
On Code-Switching
As I've been pondering the past week, I've noticed a common theme regarding the concept of code-switching as well as nonstandard English. I think it's particularly relevant to the class I observe, because these students generally fall into two camps of code-switchers: African American Vernacular English and Spanish. The code-switching from English to Spanish is more obvious in the classroom setting, just because it's easier to hear a completely different language; however, I've noticed the code-switching from AAVE to English in the context of a request to the teacher. In fact, a couple of African American students were arguing with each other, and in order to settle the argument, one student explained the facts of what was going on to the teacher, a white woman. The student's language didn't exactly become formal English, but it was clear that she was attempting to use a more "standard" form of English in order to convey what was happening to the teacher; perhaps she was afraid that the teacher wouldn't understand her, or she is simply aware of the fact that standard English affords her words more power than a nonstandard English.
The code-switching between English and Spanish occurs constantly in the classroom, as many Latino students are efficient at finding the exact words that they need to express themselves in both languages. The school has flyers that utilize both English and Spanish, so it's not like the school is actively suppressing their mostly native tongue. However, they also realize that standard English is the language of power. I came into class this past Tuesday with a "Yo Vote" sticker on (I can't find the accented e on here). A couple of the Latino students questioned me about it. They wondered why a voting sticker would be in Spanish, even explaining to me that "that's not English, Miss." I took the opportunity to have a conversation about the fact that English is not the official language of the United States, which they expressed surprise about. Their way of infusing their English with Spanish and vice versa is such a rich use of language, but I honestly haven't seen them doing this in their writing at all. Instead, they focus on using English conventions that are sometimes very stilted at the expense of richness and creativity. I think this is unfortunate, and I think that it comes from teachers never explaining to them that they can actually write this way.
As always, I think the most important aspect of writing that we have to keep bringing up with students is considering your audience. As Hill's article recommends, "Teachers must facilitate distinctions and support students as they negotiate appropriate contexts for employing language features." So, sometimes students' different versions of nonstandard English are the most appropriate to use; at other times, we (sadly) must work within the existing power structures of language and try to use a more formal, "standard" version of English. I went to a presentation this weekend given by the woman who's the director of reading, writing, and Social Studies assessments for the Texas Education Agency. It was interesting to see how the testing measures were constructed, especially from the other side, but one of the biggest recommendations that she gave to teachers was to instruct students to consider their audience. Of course, she's talking about audience in the sense that it would guide your essay structure, but I also think that this is true for code-switching and nonstandard English.
While we don't want to tell our students that their version of English is wrong, we do have to explicitly introduce them to the tools of power that currently exist in our system. And one of those biggest tools is "standard" English. While, as Hill notes, "standard English should be a choice, not an imposition," she makes this statement conditional. Yes, it "should" be, but standard, or white English, remains imposed on American society as a structure of power, and I'm not sure how quickly a change will be made to this structure in the foreseeable future.
The code-switching between English and Spanish occurs constantly in the classroom, as many Latino students are efficient at finding the exact words that they need to express themselves in both languages. The school has flyers that utilize both English and Spanish, so it's not like the school is actively suppressing their mostly native tongue. However, they also realize that standard English is the language of power. I came into class this past Tuesday with a "Yo Vote" sticker on (I can't find the accented e on here). A couple of the Latino students questioned me about it. They wondered why a voting sticker would be in Spanish, even explaining to me that "that's not English, Miss." I took the opportunity to have a conversation about the fact that English is not the official language of the United States, which they expressed surprise about. Their way of infusing their English with Spanish and vice versa is such a rich use of language, but I honestly haven't seen them doing this in their writing at all. Instead, they focus on using English conventions that are sometimes very stilted at the expense of richness and creativity. I think this is unfortunate, and I think that it comes from teachers never explaining to them that they can actually write this way.
As always, I think the most important aspect of writing that we have to keep bringing up with students is considering your audience. As Hill's article recommends, "Teachers must facilitate distinctions and support students as they negotiate appropriate contexts for employing language features." So, sometimes students' different versions of nonstandard English are the most appropriate to use; at other times, we (sadly) must work within the existing power structures of language and try to use a more formal, "standard" version of English. I went to a presentation this weekend given by the woman who's the director of reading, writing, and Social Studies assessments for the Texas Education Agency. It was interesting to see how the testing measures were constructed, especially from the other side, but one of the biggest recommendations that she gave to teachers was to instruct students to consider their audience. Of course, she's talking about audience in the sense that it would guide your essay structure, but I also think that this is true for code-switching and nonstandard English.
While we don't want to tell our students that their version of English is wrong, we do have to explicitly introduce them to the tools of power that currently exist in our system. And one of those biggest tools is "standard" English. While, as Hill notes, "standard English should be a choice, not an imposition," she makes this statement conditional. Yes, it "should" be, but standard, or white English, remains imposed on American society as a structure of power, and I'm not sure how quickly a change will be made to this structure in the foreseeable future.
Monday, November 5, 2012
Complaints About the Time-Space Continuum
So, it's November. I'm feeling a bit overwhelmed and frenetic about all the stuff I have to do in the upcoming month. It's always a tough time because I'm not very good at organizing my schedule so that I get certain things done ahead of time; instead, like many students, I depend on deadlines to push me to produce. I'm beginning to realize that teaching is a profession that doesn't improve this tendency. Because of all kinds of last minute issues that come up, planning lessons often occurs at the last minute, whether you intend to do so or not. I think that's where I've been struggling to see progress in the classroom--I feel like there are days when not much is taught or learned, and I wonder if it has to do with poor planning. However, there are times when there's not much to do about it. For example, my CT has been required to go to two all-day workshops in the past two weeks. Luckily, they didn't both fall on an A or B day, but still. It's tough to think about that much time being wasted over the past couple of weeks, when there's had to be a lot of catch-everybody-up time already (due to a lot of student turnover). And it is wasted time--the substitutes at Reagan pretty much let students have free reign. (Two students wandered in our classroom the other day from a class whose teacher wasn't there and promptly proceeded to throw things at another student, start a fight, and cause the class to completely lose focus for a good 20 minutes.) And they're testing for two days this week, which takes away from class time that they could be using to actually learn.
Maybe I'm just sounding negative because I've been listening to a lot of problems voiced by my CT about the school culture and administration. Teachers were recently informed that they should not send students to the principal's office. Reason? The students already have to face problems at home that are scarier than anything they could encounter in a principal's office. WHAT?? I do understand that we should be cognizant of our students' issues at home, and I'm also aware that some teachers will attempt to avoid confrontation by making principals deal with issues of student discipline. But when you create a school culture that coddles students' behavioral problems, you're condoning bad behavior. You're giving them an excuse. Rather than saying, hey, I'm sure there's a reason behind why you're acting out, you're saying, hey, life is tough, so don't worry about it. Instead of providing structure that may be lacking at home, and that the students may want, the school seems to be avoiding this issue, lest students may have a problem with it. I understand that they really want students to show up, but they're lowering their expectations of students. Also, they're making a broad generalization that seems pretty prejudiced. So all students who come from a lower-income household have a bad home life? A lack of money does not equate a lack of family support. So anyway, I'm not sure what I would do as a teacher in this situation. The administration recommends sending a "problem" student into another teacher's classroom to cool off, but this could cause unwanted distractions in that teacher's classroom. I'm not really sure that there is a good solution, other than the fact that I'd try to avoid a blow-up from occurring by utilizing other classroom management techniques.
To address this week's articles about online literary communities and responses, I think that providing an online space for students to express themselves is a great idea. However, the logistics could be a problem. I know that it seems fairly easy for the students in the articles to have access to a computer and the Internet, but I don't even know where a computer lab is at Reagan. There are two computers in the classroom, but for work on the computer to be helpful and accessible for everyone, I think that there would have to be a lot of explicit instruction on how to use the programs and time would be an issue. There doesn't seem to be enough time just to get through the TEKS requirements, so I think you'd have to start at the beginning of the school year with regular instruction on technology use and a focus on online writing. Ah, time.
Maybe I'm just sounding negative because I've been listening to a lot of problems voiced by my CT about the school culture and administration. Teachers were recently informed that they should not send students to the principal's office. Reason? The students already have to face problems at home that are scarier than anything they could encounter in a principal's office. WHAT?? I do understand that we should be cognizant of our students' issues at home, and I'm also aware that some teachers will attempt to avoid confrontation by making principals deal with issues of student discipline. But when you create a school culture that coddles students' behavioral problems, you're condoning bad behavior. You're giving them an excuse. Rather than saying, hey, I'm sure there's a reason behind why you're acting out, you're saying, hey, life is tough, so don't worry about it. Instead of providing structure that may be lacking at home, and that the students may want, the school seems to be avoiding this issue, lest students may have a problem with it. I understand that they really want students to show up, but they're lowering their expectations of students. Also, they're making a broad generalization that seems pretty prejudiced. So all students who come from a lower-income household have a bad home life? A lack of money does not equate a lack of family support. So anyway, I'm not sure what I would do as a teacher in this situation. The administration recommends sending a "problem" student into another teacher's classroom to cool off, but this could cause unwanted distractions in that teacher's classroom. I'm not really sure that there is a good solution, other than the fact that I'd try to avoid a blow-up from occurring by utilizing other classroom management techniques.
To address this week's articles about online literary communities and responses, I think that providing an online space for students to express themselves is a great idea. However, the logistics could be a problem. I know that it seems fairly easy for the students in the articles to have access to a computer and the Internet, but I don't even know where a computer lab is at Reagan. There are two computers in the classroom, but for work on the computer to be helpful and accessible for everyone, I think that there would have to be a lot of explicit instruction on how to use the programs and time would be an issue. There doesn't seem to be enough time just to get through the TEKS requirements, so I think you'd have to start at the beginning of the school year with regular instruction on technology use and a focus on online writing. Ah, time.
Sunday, October 28, 2012
In Search of a Writing Life
I've never been much of a diary writer or a journal keeper. I definitely have desk drawers full of failed efforts, where I've never made it much past the page full of New Year's resolutions. I used to think that I just wasn't a creative writer, but after taking a Creative Writing class in college, I think it's more that it's hard work on my part and that it's never been highly valued by teachers during my school career. In addition, I think that most aspects of creativity related to reading and writing are lacking once students get to high school. While I don't think that "book reports" are always helpful for engaging with texts and assessing reading comprehension, I really enjoyed the creative aspect of book reports in elementary and middle school. But once I got to high school, there seemed to be no place for that creativity. Instead, I was taught a specific five paragraph form within which to rangle my ideas, and writing about and engaging with texts was all analytical. (I do remember one project where I wrote some journal entries in the voice of Yossarian from Catch-22--loved it.)
I think that the focus on all "good" writing being academic analyses caused me to think that creative writing was somehow a lesser form of writing, and I didn't want to "waste" my time on it. However, I think that a lot of the articles we read for this week actually show that being aware of how to utilize and write in different genres (creative writing!) is helpful for the real world as well as for discussions on the how and why of different genres (as noted in Whitney, Ridgeman, and Masquelier). Also, one of the most important aspects of writing, at least that I think, is being aware of audience; creative writing, at least in the sense of multigenre projects, forces students to really think through who they're writing to and for what purpose. As noted in the Whitney article, students should be able to "take ownership of their writing as a tool for social life" (2011, p. 533). We don't want students to think that the only purpose of having a literate or writing life is to do well in school. We need to show them that good writing skills are important for having a rich, communicative life.
So, I am glad that we are taking part in a multigenre composition. It's good to know what we're asking our students to do and note any problems that we come up against: "[B]y becoming writers themselves, teachers would better understand the composing process and use these newfound insights to work more effectively with their students" (Cohen, 2004, p. 120). But also, I think it's good practice for teachers to have a writing life beyond putting comments on student papers. If we encourage our students to write, they need to see that we practice what we teach. I think it will definitely be a stretch for me, but becoming a better writer is something that I definitely want to work on. Even writing this blog is a good practice for me because even though I keep things mostly academic, there's a different voice that I get to use and hone. I mean, my grandpa wrote an epic poem about his father a few years ago; I really have to flex my Homeric skills if I want to show him up.
I think that the focus on all "good" writing being academic analyses caused me to think that creative writing was somehow a lesser form of writing, and I didn't want to "waste" my time on it. However, I think that a lot of the articles we read for this week actually show that being aware of how to utilize and write in different genres (creative writing!) is helpful for the real world as well as for discussions on the how and why of different genres (as noted in Whitney, Ridgeman, and Masquelier). Also, one of the most important aspects of writing, at least that I think, is being aware of audience; creative writing, at least in the sense of multigenre projects, forces students to really think through who they're writing to and for what purpose. As noted in the Whitney article, students should be able to "take ownership of their writing as a tool for social life" (2011, p. 533). We don't want students to think that the only purpose of having a literate or writing life is to do well in school. We need to show them that good writing skills are important for having a rich, communicative life.
So, I am glad that we are taking part in a multigenre composition. It's good to know what we're asking our students to do and note any problems that we come up against: "[B]y becoming writers themselves, teachers would better understand the composing process and use these newfound insights to work more effectively with their students" (Cohen, 2004, p. 120). But also, I think it's good practice for teachers to have a writing life beyond putting comments on student papers. If we encourage our students to write, they need to see that we practice what we teach. I think it will definitely be a stretch for me, but becoming a better writer is something that I definitely want to work on. Even writing this blog is a good practice for me because even though I keep things mostly academic, there's a different voice that I get to use and hone. I mean, my grandpa wrote an epic poem about his father a few years ago; I really have to flex my Homeric skills if I want to show him up.
Sunday, October 21, 2012
MC Grammar
So, I'll admit it. I actually had a difficult time reading Bomer's chapter on language and grammar because, at heart, I am a grammar nazi. As much as I attempt to resist the chains of commas and misplaced modifiers, I am a rules follower by nature, and I actually like the structure that "proper" grammar affords me. Or maybe it's really because following grammar rules is more like a secret game that I play (I love to win, and I love playing games that guarantee my victory--I like to think that more times than not, I am winning the grammar games). So, while a lot of what Bomer presented on talking about language as more of a linguistic structure makes sense, it will still be tough for me not to want to mark obvious grammatical mistakes. I've seen teachers in a community college setting that do mark all over their students' papers, and I know what happens--the students feel overwhelmed with the bleeding ink everywhere (even if the ink is purple or something) and they don't even attempt to decipher what the teacher has probably spent hours marking. And if it doesn't work in higher education, it will probably not work in a high school setting.
The problem with avoiding grammar to talk about language development and structure is that it's a whole area that is supposed to be covered, according to the TEKS. They try to pretend like they're not addressing grammar by calling it "oral and written conventions," but it's there. ("Writing legibly" is also under this TEKS subheading, just fyi.) And in a way, I agree with them. I hate sounding like an old school rule follower, but I've seen the difference that it makes when people know how to correctly use punctuation. Their resumes look sharper, their college essays look smarter, and their professional e-mails look, well, professional. I realize that a lot of grammatical conventions are silly. Who even came up with some of these rules? And they're always changing, which makes knowing the rules seem untenable. However, when you clue your students into these little details, I think that you're showing your students the "hidden curriculum." You're helping them to use the dominant culture's tools for exclusion to their advantage. And how can that hurt your students, as long as they know where these so-called rules are coming from?
There is a problem with time constraints, though. There is so much material to cover in a class period that there doesn't seem to be any extra time for teaching "finer" points of grammar, even when those "conventions" are required to be covered by the TEKS. Also, for students who are still working to use and understand the English language, grammar rules seem to be a little beside the point. This is all to say: Randy Bomer, bless your heart, but I still think grammar has a place.
For anyone who's interested, I think that the grammatical problem that I explain the most often in a tutoring session is the dreaded comma splice. Most people think that the phrase means that there's a comma in a place where it's not supposed to go, and I have to get into a discussion of the frailty of a comma all on it's own, stuck between two complete, heavy sentences. So please, don't leave that comma hangin'.
P.S. I went to another football game this past Friday night. REAGAN WON! I think it's their second win this season, which is probably more games won than the last four years combined. As weird as it sounds, I think it really boosts school morale. I never thought that sports were that important, but now that I'm in Texas high school football land, I am experiencing the seriousness afforded to the almighty pigskin. I shouted, jeered, and cheered on the bleachers with the rest of 'em, though. When in East Austin...GO RAIDERS!
The problem with avoiding grammar to talk about language development and structure is that it's a whole area that is supposed to be covered, according to the TEKS. They try to pretend like they're not addressing grammar by calling it "oral and written conventions," but it's there. ("Writing legibly" is also under this TEKS subheading, just fyi.) And in a way, I agree with them. I hate sounding like an old school rule follower, but I've seen the difference that it makes when people know how to correctly use punctuation. Their resumes look sharper, their college essays look smarter, and their professional e-mails look, well, professional. I realize that a lot of grammatical conventions are silly. Who even came up with some of these rules? And they're always changing, which makes knowing the rules seem untenable. However, when you clue your students into these little details, I think that you're showing your students the "hidden curriculum." You're helping them to use the dominant culture's tools for exclusion to their advantage. And how can that hurt your students, as long as they know where these so-called rules are coming from?
There is a problem with time constraints, though. There is so much material to cover in a class period that there doesn't seem to be any extra time for teaching "finer" points of grammar, even when those "conventions" are required to be covered by the TEKS. Also, for students who are still working to use and understand the English language, grammar rules seem to be a little beside the point. This is all to say: Randy Bomer, bless your heart, but I still think grammar has a place.
For anyone who's interested, I think that the grammatical problem that I explain the most often in a tutoring session is the dreaded comma splice. Most people think that the phrase means that there's a comma in a place where it's not supposed to go, and I have to get into a discussion of the frailty of a comma all on it's own, stuck between two complete, heavy sentences. So please, don't leave that comma hangin'.
P.S. I went to another football game this past Friday night. REAGAN WON! I think it's their second win this season, which is probably more games won than the last four years combined. As weird as it sounds, I think it really boosts school morale. I never thought that sports were that important, but now that I'm in Texas high school football land, I am experiencing the seriousness afforded to the almighty pigskin. I shouted, jeered, and cheered on the bleachers with the rest of 'em, though. When in East Austin...GO RAIDERS!
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Clear Eyes, Full Hearts, Can't Lose
I went to my first high school football game in Texas this past Friday. I had pretty big expectations, mostly due to the show Friday Night Lights, and I wasn't let down. One of the students in the class I'm observing informed me that he had just been moved up to the Varsity team, and he wanted me to watch him play. Even though I was planning on being there to watch him, I thought that he probably wouldn't get much on-field time, simply because he'd be one of the younger players. I was wrong--he was part of every offensive play. And he definitely played his heart out. Though they lost, they played hard; I was really proud of him and my adopted school. I even saw three of my students there! (I was greeted with "Hey, Miss!" a few times.) For more background information on Reagan's football history, check out this 10 minute clip from Sports Illustrated's series on Underdogs. Apparently, Reagan used to be the top high school in Texas football in the '60s and '70s; in recent years, the team has struggled to win any games, due in large part to the change in the area's shift in population and economic status. This new push to reinvigorate Reagan's football team brings me to one of the most important concepts that Beers talks about in When Kids Can't Read: confidence.
Beers notes that we can help students become more skilled readers, but more than anything else, we have to find a way to re-instill (or just instill) a sense of confidence in our students of their abilities. My CT has definitely emphasized the need for affirming students, but I like that Beers goes further and looks at the role of the classroom as a whole. We can't view our students apart from the classroom environment, or even the school environment. We have to improve the climate of the classroom environment so that it nurtures each individual on his or her journey towards reading improvement. In addition, I think that the entire school needs to be a safe place for students, or at least promote itself as such.
First, Beers states that teachers should not "dumb down" the level of materials that they teach. Instead, they should provide lots of scaffolding so that students can work their way through more complex texts. I think this is true, as long as we keep in mind that more complex texts can still be interesting. Also, if we are teaching these more complex texts, we should realize that it may take longer to get through some books than anticipated. (Perhaps this should be true of higher-level classes as well--as we know at this point, being a faster reader doesn't mean being a better reader.)
Next, Beers emphasizes the importance of a classroom that encourages risk. She provides one seemingly simple solution: that students should know each other's names. However, I've noticed in a couple of classrooms that I've observed that students don't, in fact, know their classmates. When putting students in pairs, my CT has called out names to be together, and a couple of students quickly said, "Who?" How can we expect students to want to participate with one another when they haven't even figured out everyone's names?
Also, she states that teachers shouldn't tolerate put-downs. This seems like the toughest part of creating a safe classroom environment. I would say that a large part of the communication that I've witnessed among students has been comprised of sarcasm and put-downs. It would be difficult to eradicate such a large aspect of students' communication style. Maybe if the students decided on rules of conversation at the beginning of the year, it would be easier to enforce; otherwise, if I rang a bell every time someone said something negative, I would be ringing all day long...and these students are pretty good at tuning out what they don't want to hear. I think providing this safe environment for students is a process that both the teacher and the students have to actively work on.
For right now, I'm glad to be at Reagan High School. I get to witness this time of rebuilding confidence, and maybe even be a part of it. They're rebuilding confidence in athletics and slowly rebuilding confidence in academics. Though I'm not sure that some of the students in the school, and even in my class, believe that they can move past the label of "struggling readers and writers" or even "failing school, " Kylene Beers so aptly notes: "You must believe for them" (280).
Beers notes that we can help students become more skilled readers, but more than anything else, we have to find a way to re-instill (or just instill) a sense of confidence in our students of their abilities. My CT has definitely emphasized the need for affirming students, but I like that Beers goes further and looks at the role of the classroom as a whole. We can't view our students apart from the classroom environment, or even the school environment. We have to improve the climate of the classroom environment so that it nurtures each individual on his or her journey towards reading improvement. In addition, I think that the entire school needs to be a safe place for students, or at least promote itself as such.
First, Beers states that teachers should not "dumb down" the level of materials that they teach. Instead, they should provide lots of scaffolding so that students can work their way through more complex texts. I think this is true, as long as we keep in mind that more complex texts can still be interesting. Also, if we are teaching these more complex texts, we should realize that it may take longer to get through some books than anticipated. (Perhaps this should be true of higher-level classes as well--as we know at this point, being a faster reader doesn't mean being a better reader.)
Next, Beers emphasizes the importance of a classroom that encourages risk. She provides one seemingly simple solution: that students should know each other's names. However, I've noticed in a couple of classrooms that I've observed that students don't, in fact, know their classmates. When putting students in pairs, my CT has called out names to be together, and a couple of students quickly said, "Who?" How can we expect students to want to participate with one another when they haven't even figured out everyone's names?
Also, she states that teachers shouldn't tolerate put-downs. This seems like the toughest part of creating a safe classroom environment. I would say that a large part of the communication that I've witnessed among students has been comprised of sarcasm and put-downs. It would be difficult to eradicate such a large aspect of students' communication style. Maybe if the students decided on rules of conversation at the beginning of the year, it would be easier to enforce; otherwise, if I rang a bell every time someone said something negative, I would be ringing all day long...and these students are pretty good at tuning out what they don't want to hear. I think providing this safe environment for students is a process that both the teacher and the students have to actively work on.
For right now, I'm glad to be at Reagan High School. I get to witness this time of rebuilding confidence, and maybe even be a part of it. They're rebuilding confidence in athletics and slowly rebuilding confidence in academics. Though I'm not sure that some of the students in the school, and even in my class, believe that they can move past the label of "struggling readers and writers" or even "failing school, " Kylene Beers so aptly notes: "You must believe for them" (280).
Monday, October 8, 2012
Books and Beers
Though the first three chapters of Kylene Beers’ book When Kids Can’t Read seem pretty basic,
they set up some situations in the classroom that I hadn’t even considered
before. Even in the class I’m observing,
which includes a lot of students who don’t speak English as their first
language, I haven’t noticed any students who are having major difficulties with
reading or refuse to read. This may be
due to the fact that I haven’t witnessed any major reading assessments
yet. We’ve mostly been focused on writing
abilities, so I’m interested to see if any of the more basic reading problems
come up (such as issues with reading for comprehension). The one reading
“problem” that seems to have already been addressed in the classroom is the
issue of not wanting to read. My CT has
implemented independent reading time, during which students can pick out any
book they want to read. This may not
solve all problems—they are still easily distracted from their books, and I
can’t assume that every student has magically discovered the exact genre of
book that they like to read and that they will continue to read. However, Thursday’s reading time was pretty
amazing. Every student in class was engrossed
in what they were reading, and all you could hear was the rustle of turning
pages for at least 25 minutes. This was
the first independent reading session all semester that all students actually
utilized fully.
One particularly timely point that Beers discusses in
chapter 3 is how classroom teachers (or, more likely, schools) can’t fix
reading problems by buying into a particular program. During our last class in Adolescent Literacy,
people who were observing at Akins High School talked about the new lexile
program that was supposed to be utilized in the classroom; there seemed to be
numerous difficulties with how the program decided “higher” readers from
“lower” readers, as well as the intersection of the lexile program with reading
for enjoyment. I thought to myself at
the time, well, good thing that I’m at a high school that doesn’t employ these
measures. I could see it really getting
in the way of that sacred independent, purely choice-driven reading time. And then I arrived at school on Tuesday.
It seems that lexile programs are now being implemented
throughout AISD. My CT was distraught over
the numerous requirements that had been introduced during a faculty meeting the
previous day. She was worried about what
the program would mean for her students’ independent reading time, and there
was also talk of an incentive program to get students to read (by incentives, I
don’t just mean a pizza party; I mean discussions about a four-wheeler). While I’m not sure about the efficacy of the
lexile program just yet, I’m sure it is well intentioned. A teacher does want to make sure that her
students are not overwhelming themselves with difficult reading material, and
she also wants to ensure that they are challenging themselves with texts that
are at the higher end of their current reading abilities. However, as Beers points out, there is no
guarantee that this program will succeed in all classroom situations. Why?
Because “teachers—not programs—are the critical element in a student’s
success” (Beers 38).
I’m actually glad to have the opportunity to see the initial
stages of a district-wide reading program because the enforcement of programs
like this one seems to be a common occurrence in public schools. I want to see how my CT deals with using the
program in a manner that will work in her classroom setting, or even how my CT
deals with the program when it doesn’t work. I’m sure I’ll have a lot to say about the
program in the near future, so I’ll get back to you on that one. One student in
the class I’m observing finished two books in a week, when he had previously
never read a whole book on his own. I
can’t say whether or not the books were in his lexile range, but I can attest
for the reaction from the rest of the class—they seemed to be encouraged in
their reading efforts as well. Maybe we
should expand Beers’ statement about student success to show that when teachers
instill a sense of self-efficacy into students’ reading lives, both teachers
and students are the critical elements in students’ successes.
Sunday, September 30, 2012
It's the Great Writing Debate, Charlie Brown!
Do you ever have those times where you feel like every conversation you have and every article you read somehow relates to what you're thinking about? No? Maybe it's hyper-awareness, or just plain paranoia. But anyhow, I just see so many experiences in my life for the past week leading me back to the question of the role of writing in the classroom. So here's how it started off:
The classes that I'm observing at Reagan High School are called "Creative Writing." That's right--not a "required" English class, per se, but one that the students don't necessarily choose to be in. The students who take the class are in 10th grade, and they're also taking an English 2 class, but they performed poorly or failed the end-of-year test in reading/writing. They're pretty much required to take the class, in the hopes that by the end of the year, they'll be completely caught up to where they're supposed to be for 9th and 10th grade. But it's not called a remedial class...it's "creative." I see that being a strength and a weakness. The strength is that they're not having to test and re-test a bunch in this class, so there's a freedom from the pressure of outside curriculum requirements. Also, they are working on writing short stories or character sketches, instead of having to work within the typical structured argumentative essay format. I really like the atmosphere of the class. The students aren't necessarily thrilled about having to write in the first place, but they seem to enjoy being given the space to experiment with explorations of their made-up character and finishing the dialogue of a break-up in the school hallway.
On the other hand, I'm not sure that they take the class very seriously. Like I said, they're also required to take English 2, which seems to negate some of the validity of their "creative writing" course. It's sad, since I think they almost view it like an elective; however, it seems like the methods used in this class would actually encourage more engagement with the development of their reading and writing skills. On Tuesday, the class did an exercise where they looked at different YA novels' first lines. They were supposed to notice which ones grabbed their attention, so that they could structure their own stories with a hook at the beginning. One of the students read a first line, and he kept on reading. He came in on Thursday, distraught that one of the main characters died. My CT was astonished that he read the entire book in two days. This kind of engagement with a text seems new for these students, so I'm not sure if they're given the same kinds of opportunities for reading and writing for pleasure in their "real" English classes.
That gets me to part of the reading from Bomer from this past week. In his chapter on writing that supports readers, he mentioned that "we should not build English classes where every reading event has to be commodified into a product that can be graded" (152). And that makes so much sense to me! When every little thing that we do in a classroom has a grade attached, there's also the possibility of failure. How can we promote the idea of reading for pleasure or reading as a part of everyday life if it's always attached to the concept of achievement? I think it's difficult to find this common ground. Sure, a good idea is to assign each student a reading/writing journal. So should you be able to grade the reading journal to make sure there's some sense of progress in a student's reading life? Or is a fear of failure inherent in the action of a teacher looking over a student's writing?
The other issue from this chapter on that has resonated with me throughout the week is the concept of formulaic essays. I love this quote:
"With that kind of writing [formulaic writing], students are not actually communicating with anyone, but they're not really writing to think either. They're too connected with being explicit about their claims and their relationships, with providing evidence, and with maintaining a cohesive text that avoids any digressions into new thinking. So they're not really using writing to think or to communicate, just to comply. We can do better." (160)
This is my daily struggle! As a writing tutor in the community college setting, I work with a lot of students in basic composition classes that are requirements for liberal arts degrees. You would think that I would have a new challenge everyday, but sadly, most of the teachers work off of a sort of essay formula. Even for a class that is centered around reading and responding to short stories, the formula is simple: summary; central idea of the story; statement about how three elements (maybe tone, setting, and character) exemplify the central idea. Each subsequent paragraph addresses one element, with quotes and explanations of the quotes in a certain order. I even tell students that as long as you have the formula, you should be fine in the class. Do the students learn anything? Sure, they eventually learn how to pick a central idea out of a story (but even then, they know that there are certain central ideas that aren't quite "right"). But there is no sense of communicating with anyone, or actually thinking about the story that they've read. They're just following the formula.
And then I came across this series on writing from The Atlantic Monthly. Check out "The Writing Revolution" along with a pretty handy response. Basically, New Dorp High School decided to change their writing curriculum because the school was doing so poorly in testing. They emphasized the basics of grammar and sentence structure, to the point of actually giving students a specific word order in which to answer questions in class. It also emphasizes "fundamental" analytical essay structures, and the school reported improvements in test scores. But here's the problem: is the school actually enabling students to become better writers, or is it teaching students how to write for the standardized tests that it wants them to pass? I posed this question on Facebook (the arbiter of all real debates), and a lady who went to grad school with me for English stated that I wouldn't have been in higher education if I didn't know these "formulas" for writing. She's probably right.
All this is to say, yes, I wholeheartedly agree with Bomer, that we should not teach formulas for writing. But is there a point at which we're doing our students a disservice by not offering them this "get out of jail/get into college free" card? Maybe there's some kind of middle ground that can be reached. I'm hoping that I get to witness some of that middle groundedness this semester.
The classes that I'm observing at Reagan High School are called "Creative Writing." That's right--not a "required" English class, per se, but one that the students don't necessarily choose to be in. The students who take the class are in 10th grade, and they're also taking an English 2 class, but they performed poorly or failed the end-of-year test in reading/writing. They're pretty much required to take the class, in the hopes that by the end of the year, they'll be completely caught up to where they're supposed to be for 9th and 10th grade. But it's not called a remedial class...it's "creative." I see that being a strength and a weakness. The strength is that they're not having to test and re-test a bunch in this class, so there's a freedom from the pressure of outside curriculum requirements. Also, they are working on writing short stories or character sketches, instead of having to work within the typical structured argumentative essay format. I really like the atmosphere of the class. The students aren't necessarily thrilled about having to write in the first place, but they seem to enjoy being given the space to experiment with explorations of their made-up character and finishing the dialogue of a break-up in the school hallway.
On the other hand, I'm not sure that they take the class very seriously. Like I said, they're also required to take English 2, which seems to negate some of the validity of their "creative writing" course. It's sad, since I think they almost view it like an elective; however, it seems like the methods used in this class would actually encourage more engagement with the development of their reading and writing skills. On Tuesday, the class did an exercise where they looked at different YA novels' first lines. They were supposed to notice which ones grabbed their attention, so that they could structure their own stories with a hook at the beginning. One of the students read a first line, and he kept on reading. He came in on Thursday, distraught that one of the main characters died. My CT was astonished that he read the entire book in two days. This kind of engagement with a text seems new for these students, so I'm not sure if they're given the same kinds of opportunities for reading and writing for pleasure in their "real" English classes.
That gets me to part of the reading from Bomer from this past week. In his chapter on writing that supports readers, he mentioned that "we should not build English classes where every reading event has to be commodified into a product that can be graded" (152). And that makes so much sense to me! When every little thing that we do in a classroom has a grade attached, there's also the possibility of failure. How can we promote the idea of reading for pleasure or reading as a part of everyday life if it's always attached to the concept of achievement? I think it's difficult to find this common ground. Sure, a good idea is to assign each student a reading/writing journal. So should you be able to grade the reading journal to make sure there's some sense of progress in a student's reading life? Or is a fear of failure inherent in the action of a teacher looking over a student's writing?
The other issue from this chapter on that has resonated with me throughout the week is the concept of formulaic essays. I love this quote:
"With that kind of writing [formulaic writing], students are not actually communicating with anyone, but they're not really writing to think either. They're too connected with being explicit about their claims and their relationships, with providing evidence, and with maintaining a cohesive text that avoids any digressions into new thinking. So they're not really using writing to think or to communicate, just to comply. We can do better." (160)
This is my daily struggle! As a writing tutor in the community college setting, I work with a lot of students in basic composition classes that are requirements for liberal arts degrees. You would think that I would have a new challenge everyday, but sadly, most of the teachers work off of a sort of essay formula. Even for a class that is centered around reading and responding to short stories, the formula is simple: summary; central idea of the story; statement about how three elements (maybe tone, setting, and character) exemplify the central idea. Each subsequent paragraph addresses one element, with quotes and explanations of the quotes in a certain order. I even tell students that as long as you have the formula, you should be fine in the class. Do the students learn anything? Sure, they eventually learn how to pick a central idea out of a story (but even then, they know that there are certain central ideas that aren't quite "right"). But there is no sense of communicating with anyone, or actually thinking about the story that they've read. They're just following the formula.
And then I came across this series on writing from The Atlantic Monthly. Check out "The Writing Revolution" along with a pretty handy response. Basically, New Dorp High School decided to change their writing curriculum because the school was doing so poorly in testing. They emphasized the basics of grammar and sentence structure, to the point of actually giving students a specific word order in which to answer questions in class. It also emphasizes "fundamental" analytical essay structures, and the school reported improvements in test scores. But here's the problem: is the school actually enabling students to become better writers, or is it teaching students how to write for the standardized tests that it wants them to pass? I posed this question on Facebook (the arbiter of all real debates), and a lady who went to grad school with me for English stated that I wouldn't have been in higher education if I didn't know these "formulas" for writing. She's probably right.
All this is to say, yes, I wholeheartedly agree with Bomer, that we should not teach formulas for writing. But is there a point at which we're doing our students a disservice by not offering them this "get out of jail/get into college free" card? Maybe there's some kind of middle ground that can be reached. I'm hoping that I get to witness some of that middle groundedness this semester.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
Let's not even mention when Nancy Drew goes to college...
This is the book to blame for all my current hoarding issues. I began reading Nancy Drew mysteries when I was seven, and I wanted all of the series. All fifty bajillion ghost-written Carolyn Keene books. However, my family lacked the resources to pay for those yellow-spined jewels, so I had to settle for the local library. My family also refused to buy me books when I was younger because they complained that I read them too quickly, many times before getting out of the car when we got home. As an adult, I've done a bit of over-compensating for my neglected childhood desires, buying so many novels that I'm currently keeping some of them at a friend's house. But this book-broken road has been legitimized by Bomer; he tells me that I need a well-equipped classroom library, so BOOM. I'm so excited.
I really enjoyed that he spent an entire chapter on environments for supporting reading, since I think that it's important for encouraging a reading life that continues to occur outside of the classroom. If a classroom's library is only comprised of class sets of books, it makes reading seem like something you can only do at school, under close supervision. Don't get me wrong: lending out my own books makes me a little nervous (yes, I am a book hog, I know), but it encourages independent reading as well as a sense of trust.
So, on the subject of independent reading, I liked the presentation of tiered levels of classroom reading. These three levels include independent reading, small group reading, and whole class reading. Bomer mentions accomplishing whole-class reading by having the teacher read the text aloud or recording it (which seems like that could get pretty time consuming), and I actually like the idea of reading the text aloud to the class. I don't remember having teachers read anything aloud after I got out of middle school. Still, I think it's an interesting way for students to interact with a text. It's also comforting in a way, because it could call to mind being read to as a child. And I don't think it would be too childish, either, because you're calling on the students to practice a different kind of listening, which could also help them with interpreting the text (which I'll get to in just a bit).
Moving on to the next couple of chapters, in which Bomer discusses the practices involved in inhabiting and interpreting the text, there are some interesting teaching strategies to consider. The chapter on inhabiting the text is pretty straightforward, and it covers the some of the basic strategies involved in active reading (picturing the text, listening to the text's voices, creating relationships with characters, and so on). The most helpful chapter to me talks about how to teach interpretive reading. What strikes me is how he emphasizes that when we're teaching reading, we're not necessarily teaching content. Instead, we're teaching how to recognize your own reading practices and how to question the text.
The notion of teaching how to question really resonates with all that I've been learning about critical pedagogy in my Multicultural Curriculum class, in that in order to provide students with critical thinking skills, we must focus on the how and why instead of the what. And that's what Bomer is getting at as well with his steps of interpretive reading--all of the steps culminate in critiquing the text, looking at the groups within a text, who does and does not have power in the text, and looking at issues of injustice. From there, the text does not remain merely something to be read inside a classroom; it permeates students' perceptions of the world, allowing them to think about their lives and their communities in a different way. I think this is why these chapters seem like a very helpful bridge to me--they link the theory with the practice in a useful way.
Well, I had even more to write about, but this post is getting pretty overwhelming. I'll leave you with this: have you ever checked out the Best American Nonrequired Reading series? A group of high school students are selected each year to be on the committee to pick out short works from that year's publications (from magazines and journals, generally). These can include short stories, essays, graphic fiction, and even silly lists. I always buy the book when it comes out because it introduces me to new authors and essayists. It also picks up on some interesting political themes and social issues from the year. I think that it'd be worth it to check out the series, since one of the short stories or essays from one of the books could possibly be used as a whole-class text that Bomer mentioned. Also, they're all picked by high school students! Yay, classroom library time!!
FYI: My literacy log, for the period of September 12-15. Not only have I discovered many different literacies that I never considered previously, but I realized that I waste a lot of time! Life lessons on both accounts, I guess.
Day 1: Wednesday, September 12
Driving: 1 hour and 10 minutes
Reading for Multicultural Curriculum: 1 hour and 30 minutes
Fire Drill: 30 minutes
Checking e-mail: 25 minutes
Instructing students on computer applications/how to print: 55 minutes
Tutoring writing/Discussing essays with students: 3 hours
Taking notes for Multicultural Curriculum: 40 minutes
Making a collaborative chart/explaining the chart: 20 minutes
Class group work: 30 minutes
Watching Netflix: 40 minutes
Reading a novel: 15 minutes
Looking at band posters in a bathroom: 5 minutes
Texting: 15 minutes
Figuring out a Christmas travel budget: 20 minutes
Day 2: Thursday, September 13
Driving: 1 hour
Looking at Twitter: 10 minutes
Looking at Instagram: 15 minutes
Making notes in my planner: 10 minutes
Listening to NPR: 30 minutes
Watching Hulu: 1 hour
Facebooking: 45 minutes
Reading food blogs: 20 minutes
Pinterest-ing: 15 minutes
Cooking lunch: 20 minutes
Checking/sending e-mail: 30 minutes
Reading for Adolescent Literacy: 3 hours
Listening to music: 40 minutes
Texting: 5 minutes
Reading short stories in an anthology: 25 minutes
Reading news articles online: 20 minutes
Day 3: Saturday, September 15
Driving: 45 minutes
Facebook messaging: 15 minutes
Checking/sending e-mail: 20 minutes
Figuring out directions on Google: 5 minutes
Reading food/design blogs: 15 minutes
Yoga: 45 minutes
Grocery shopping: 30 minutes
Attending an art show (The Sketchbook Project): 25 minutes
Watching a movie projected outside an art space: 20 minutes
Texting: 20 minutes
Looking at a menu: 5 minutes
Reading for Adolescent Literacy: 1 hour
Looking at Instagram: 15 minutes
Writing funny notes to a friend in her journal: 10 minutes
Reading others’ funny notes: 10 minutes
Coming up with silly song lyrics: 30 minutes
I hope you enjoy perusing my sometimes pointless, ever-literate daily activities. Watch out for another post, coming to you in just a few.
Sunday, September 16, 2012
Initial Musings and Explanations
Testing, testing! (I'm pretty sure that's how you're supposed to start every new blog, right? Just trying to use my prior knowledge (also, boom! New vocabulary term.).)
So, a few words about the title of my blog and the url I came up with...
The articles and book chapters that I've been reading about the definition of literacy/literacies and how they affect all aspects of our collective lives are really blowing my literary mind. I think that I've always been conditioned to think of "literacy" as the ability to read well, and I've never struggled in that area. I learned to read when I was four years old, and I was an insatiable reader from then on out. In addition, I always ascribed to the idea of a "cannon" of what is "good" to read and what is shameful to read. For example, I LOVED V.C. Andrews when I was in middle school (Flowers in the Attic, anyone? Disgusting and fascinating.). However, when I got older, I felt like I couldn't let myself read anything that wasn't sectioned off in the "Literature" shelves in the bookstore. I refused to read Harry Potter until I was 25 years old, and then I found that I loved that series of books more than most of the novels I was assigned to read in grad school for literature.
All that is to say that I'm really intrigued by looking at literacy and literacies in a different light; rather than looking at literacy as the practice of making sure a 9th grader can read The Epic of Gilgamesh, and instead, focusing on incorporating students' already burgeoning literary lives, I think that academic and social revolutions can begin in the classroom and carry over into the community.
And I'm excited to look at and utilize this new-to-me information about literacy with different eyes, not new ones. I mean, after all, my eyes/experiences bring something unique to the table that I don't just want to let go of.
As far as the Notorious B.I.G. lyrics go, I feel like that's pretty self-explanatory. I mean, isn't that why people crave communicating with others, pursuing oral and written conversations? Sometimes others' words do hypnotize us; they capture how we're feeling or they sound so beautiful that we want to savor them. Or they persuade us that Biggie's flashy ways are great. (That was probably an over-academization of those rap lyrics, but isn't that what blogs are for?)
Also, for anyone interested in rap and hip-hop (as I am), a really great book to check out is Dirty South: Outkast, Lil Wayne, Soulja Boy, and the Southern Rappers Who Reinvented Hip-Hop. There's an interesting section on Houston rappers and DJs, and I feel that if you're interested in the genre, it might be good background reading material for understanding some of the rap/hip-hop scene in this area. (This also relates to the Susan Weinstein article on the pleasures of rap as a literate practice--I think knowing about a region's hip-hop history could be useful in connecting with some students' at home literary practices.)
So, hopefully those ramblings show a bit of my current (early) understanding of literacy and literacy practices, and I hope to get a bit more coherent (and arguably more interesting) in the near future.
--Holland
So, a few words about the title of my blog and the url I came up with...
The articles and book chapters that I've been reading about the definition of literacy/literacies and how they affect all aspects of our collective lives are really blowing my literary mind. I think that I've always been conditioned to think of "literacy" as the ability to read well, and I've never struggled in that area. I learned to read when I was four years old, and I was an insatiable reader from then on out. In addition, I always ascribed to the idea of a "cannon" of what is "good" to read and what is shameful to read. For example, I LOVED V.C. Andrews when I was in middle school (Flowers in the Attic, anyone? Disgusting and fascinating.). However, when I got older, I felt like I couldn't let myself read anything that wasn't sectioned off in the "Literature" shelves in the bookstore. I refused to read Harry Potter until I was 25 years old, and then I found that I loved that series of books more than most of the novels I was assigned to read in grad school for literature.
All that is to say that I'm really intrigued by looking at literacy and literacies in a different light; rather than looking at literacy as the practice of making sure a 9th grader can read The Epic of Gilgamesh, and instead, focusing on incorporating students' already burgeoning literary lives, I think that academic and social revolutions can begin in the classroom and carry over into the community.
And I'm excited to look at and utilize this new-to-me information about literacy with different eyes, not new ones. I mean, after all, my eyes/experiences bring something unique to the table that I don't just want to let go of.
As far as the Notorious B.I.G. lyrics go, I feel like that's pretty self-explanatory. I mean, isn't that why people crave communicating with others, pursuing oral and written conversations? Sometimes others' words do hypnotize us; they capture how we're feeling or they sound so beautiful that we want to savor them. Or they persuade us that Biggie's flashy ways are great. (That was probably an over-academization of those rap lyrics, but isn't that what blogs are for?)
Also, for anyone interested in rap and hip-hop (as I am), a really great book to check out is Dirty South: Outkast, Lil Wayne, Soulja Boy, and the Southern Rappers Who Reinvented Hip-Hop. There's an interesting section on Houston rappers and DJs, and I feel that if you're interested in the genre, it might be good background reading material for understanding some of the rap/hip-hop scene in this area. (This also relates to the Susan Weinstein article on the pleasures of rap as a literate practice--I think knowing about a region's hip-hop history could be useful in connecting with some students' at home literary practices.)
So, hopefully those ramblings show a bit of my current (early) understanding of literacy and literacy practices, and I hope to get a bit more coherent (and arguably more interesting) in the near future.
--Holland
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