Learning Communities

I mentioned in class on Thursday that I feel the strongest part of the new program has been the experience of being put in a cohort. I would add that the expanded student teaching experience has been invaluable, and its value also cannot be overstated, but I want to focus on our cohort as a Learning Community and expand on that idea.

As I mentioned in one of my earlier posts, the University Learning Centre has run a Learning Community program for first year students for the past five years. The aim of this program is to connect students to each other, and by doing so connect them more deeply to the themes that connect their various classes. From an administration standpoint, the draw is that it reduces attrition rates, which in the College of Arts and Science, usually hover in the 25% range. 

Working with Learning Communities, I have seen first hand how effective they can be in engaging students in their education. I feel like as part of this cohort, I have had the opportunity to be a student in a kind of learning community, and that experience has been spectacular. I think back on my years as a student in the College of Arts and Science where it was not uncommon to have classes with a few hundred other students in the first few years. Even as class sizes shrunk in third and fourth year, the chance to create a community with engaged students was often curtailed by students simply not showing up on a regular basis, and students only having one or two common classes.

In a cohort where we have at least three common classes and a shared student teaching experience, the opportunities to engage as a community have been plentiful. We have organically created a community in which we share best practices and unique insights. We also share our growing pains and, most importantly for me, we share common values. The most pleasant surprise for me coming into the College of Education is how much I enjoy and respect my classmates. For what its worth I think the College would be doing secondary Teacher Candidates a great disservice by not offering them the cohort experience. This, as much as anything else, has helped shape and support me as an aspiring educator. 

We talk a lot about pedagogy and theory. We no that Dewey contends that "education is a social process" and that Vygotsky's Zone of Proximal Development is proximal because it can only be realized in a social setting. We have read numerous articles on the value of connecting students to one another in order to connect them more deeply to their learning. I have experienced this kind of connection; the trick now is fostering it in the classroom.

Heavy Lifting

Editor's Note: I promise my next posting will not contain any sports metaphors

Today was a good day at my partner school.

In period five I sit in with the Grade 12 International Baccalaureate (IB) students in their Theory of Knowledge (ToK) class. This class is at the core of IB, and serves to tie the various other subjects of the programme together. Many students hate this class. 

Over the last few weeks, tension has been growing as students grapple with the concept of ToK. Today, as students worked on one of their major term projects, the tension boiled over. One student on the verge of a breakdown confided to me that she hated the class because it "made her question everything I know." As I tried for the rest of the period to talk this student and her supporters through the problem, I couldn't help but think that this is really education at its best. 

Of the Ministry of Education's Cross Curricular Competencies, one stands out to me: "Think and Learn Critically". This is listed last among the "Goals to Develop Thinking", and rightly so. This is one of the hardest concepts to teach at any age, and one of the hardest to learn. It is also, I believe, among the most valuable skills one can develop in education.

Because it is hard, many students learn to dislike thinking and learning critically. Appleman warns of this in her chapter on Deconstruction. I experienced this very phenomenon today. I am not a seasoned teacher, and I often struggle with situations where students rebel against the curriculum. Despite my reservations about my abilities, I tried to respond to the insurrection I faced today.

What I told the students is that ToK, like critical thinking (one could argue that ToK is simply a deep form of critical thinking), is supposed to be hard. I compare it to lifting weights. You go to the gym and you put some heavy iron on the bar and you struggle with it. After your first workout your muscles ache for days and you find yourself hampered in movement. You go back and you repeat your workout with similar results. You get frustrated after the first few weeks because despite your strenuous efforts, the weights you can lift aren't going up very fast, if at all. You muscles are sore, and they don't show any signs of growth. Your frustration makes you want to quit. However, after a few weeks you start to notice the weight going up. Your muscles aren't as sore as they were at the start and they recover more quickly. After a few months your muscles start to bulge and you are lifting heavier weights than you ever though possible. More importantly, everything else becomes easier: you can translate your success in the weight room into success on any field you choose.

The point is, the most valuable kind of learning is not supposed to be easy. To risk cliché, if it were easy it wouldn't be worth doing. 

I believe this kind of learning is achievable in the ELA curriculum. When Gallagher and Appleman write their chapters on "Reading the World", it is this kind of skill they are aiming to apply. This way of thinking is the top of the mountain in Bloom's Taxonomy; this skill is the hottest of HoT skills. However, it is only the dedicated, savvy teacher that can get her students to embrace this very difficult way of learning. The benefit, as Appleman and Gallagher point out, is an ability to read the "difficult text" that is their daily lives.

The situation in ToK class today resolved itself rather well. I think students left our dialogue with an appreciation, if not an adoration of ToK skills. If that appreciation did not come today, it will come in the future. All that time spent pushing intellectual iron will pay off come game time. 

Expressing Impressions of Oppression

Appleman begins her penultimate chapter with the following quote:

Perhaps the biggest misconceptions about the use of literary theory with secondary students is that it is most appropriate for college-bound or AP students... In fact, kids on the margins seem to be savvier about theory. Many of them have been reading the world and its inequities for a very long time. (p. 112)

I think about this quote often when I'm in the classroom. Because I am in mostly "gifted" classrooms, I often don't see a broad range of socio-economic backgrounds in the classroom, as unfortunate as this reality is. I do, however, see a range of different races and religions.

I think about how this quote applies to how teachers teach. Another unfortunate reality of our world is that most teachers in schools are members of majority groups. The teachers I work with are both white Christian males. This certainly plays a role in how they approach their classrooms.

A perfect example of this is a World Religions class that I sit in on. The instructor, one of the aforementioned men, is tasked with sensitive subject matter. In the units he created on First Nations and Jewish religion, he approached the topic with reverence. He was also quick to curb any inappropriate comments made, often out of genuine ignorance, by the students. However, for the unit on Christianity, the instructor approached the subject matter with irreverent humour. As a well-read Christian who attended a Christian school, this instructor felt comfortable making light of his own beliefs, while the beliefs of other groups were not treated with any hint of comedy.

This same situation plays itself out for many teachers. Teachers, being for the most part sensitive and well educated, are aware of the difficulties of using certain critical approaches in classrooms where students have experienced "the world and its inequities." Often for these reasons teachers shy away from asking deep questions in classrooms or in subject areas where students may have experienced oppression or marginalization. Yet, as Appleman suggests, it is often these students who can benefit the most from this kind of questioning.

I am not suggesting any concrete answers or solutions here. I think this is a difficult situation for teachers. But I do think, as Appleman does, that asking deep questions is essential. In gifted education, it is the central focus of the program. It is important then that educators be able to ask these deep questions in all classrooms. This is difficult. It requires a great deal of courage, and even larger amounts of sensitivity and humility.

Deconstruction Zone

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
      Between the crosses, row on row,
   That mark our place; and in the sky
   The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
   Loved and were loved, and now we lie
         In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
   The torch; be yours to hold it high.
   If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
         In Flanders fields.

                                                                                            -Lt. Col. John McCrea, 1915

I thought this poem was timely for both the time of year and the subject matter of this week. There is no doubt that the imagery and sentiment of this poem are beautiful. I don't think I have ever attended a Remembrance Day ceremony where it was not read. Moreover, the story of the poem is as beautiful as its words. Written by an army doctor after his dear friend was killed, McCrea supposedly discarded the poem in the trenches, only to be recovered by his fellows. It was McCrea died a few years later while serving in France. The poem has since become one of the most recognizable World War I poems in the world, and a national treasure in Canada.

For years I thought of this poem as a solemn ode to peace. However, as I grew older and became a more sophisticated reader, I realized that the last stanza takes a sharp turn. What began as a requiem turns jingoistic and warmongering with the line "Take up our quarrel with the foe." I suspect that most high school students have never thought critically about this poem. I think it is a very accessible first step into the troublesome waters of deconstruction. 

The accessibility of the poem for high school reader is part of its appeal. Its widespread use is another. However, the ease with which the poem can be read does not entail its simplicity. An astute reader might suggest that McCrea has chosen the words "quarrel" and "foe" instead of "battle" and "enemy." This could lead to the interpretation that the "foe" is war itself, and not the armies of the Germans, Austro-Hungarians, and Ottomans -- an now we find ourselves waist-deep. 

I believe that post-modernism is the most important lens that students can be taught. Appleman shows that there are dangers to this approach, as Jessica experienced. But, if students like Jessica struggle with deconstruction, it can only be to their benefit. I believe that one of our goals as educators should be to empower students with the skills to critique the world around them. Many high school students (in grades 11 and 12 especially) are already questioning the power structures and hierarchies that they have lived under. Deconstruction gives them the ability to dismantle meta-narratives, including the ones mentioned in other literary theories -gender, class, race, etc. - and to realize that they are all constructions. 

By giving students the tools to safely disassemble these meta-narratives they can be empowered with the knowledge to rebuild their own narratives. One way or another, this is often what happens when students leave high school. Successful students (whatever "successful" means) realize that the things that were important in high school no longer matter. The narratives and binaries that constrained adolescent life begin to fall away. This is liberating if it can be embraced. To utilize the power of post-modern theory, students require the kind of scaffolding that Critical Literary Theory (and Critical Theory) supports. In fact, once students embrace the concept of deconstruction, re-applying critical theories to constructs such as race, gender, and class becomes much easier. In a way, the high school student who internalizes deconstructionism is starting their education anew. 

Postcolonial Catan

My friends and I often play the board game Settlers of Catan. If you are familiar with the game, you know that it is an harmless way to pass an evening with good company... or is it? The last game we played I thought, "wait a minute. Isn't it likely that an island as bountiful as Catan would have indigenous peoples inhabiting it?" My roadbuilding took on a whole new meaning...

I mention this mostly as a joke, but it is an honest feeling that has emerged in me (I hope) as a result of exposure to decolonizing discourse.

Two quotes stood out from me from Appleman's book this week. The first is from Appleman herself, who states that "Africa and East Asia [were] the primary geographic targets of European colonialism" (p. 88). This is a curious claim. It certainly makes one wonder why the Americas are excluded from the list, considering the largest ever genocide of indigenous peoples took place in the "New World." Only a few paragraphs further down the page, Appleman writes of a "Western society that wishes to make peace with its own history but is unwilling to acknowledge its own exercise of idealogical suppression." It seems by omitting the colonizing of Amerindians from her list, Appleman herself is committing a form of ideological suppression.

The second passage that caught my attention was quoted from Peter Barry:

     "If we claim that great literature has a timeless and universal significance, we thereby demote or
      disregard cultural, social, regional, and national differences in experience and outlook, preferring        
      instead to judge all literatures by a single, supposedly 'universal' standard." (p. 89)

When reading this, I immediately thought of reading To Kill a Mockingbird in high school English class. For me, this novel simply did not connect with my experience. I had no shortage of exposure to racism (although never the subjective experience) growing up in the inner city of Saskatoon. However, this experience was not reflected in the pages of Harper Lee's novel. The racism I observed in "the alphabets" of Saskatoon in the 1990s did not connect with the racism described in 1930s Alabama. The context of oppression makes these cases fundamentally different. Moreover, reading the text through a postcolonial lens can change Atticus finch from a noble, omniscient father, to another bearer of the white man's burden, saving those who cannot save themselves with the power of superior white intellect.

Throughout Deeper Reading, Gallagher references the "universal truths" (p. 39, for example) that must be uncovered when reading literature. The term "universal truths" always makes me cringe, not only because I do not believe there are universal truths that are pan cultural, but also because the alleged existence of "universal truths" has lead the vanguard of justifications for brutal and enduring colonization.

A Queer Omission

The discussion of reading through a gender lens in today's class, and particularly the video we watched made me think of this advertisement. It's worth a look, and only takes 60 seconds.

The ad was made in 1995, and it was never aired. It was considered, at the time, to be too shocking.

I thought about this ad as I was reading Appleman's chapter on the feminist theory, or as she often calls it, gender theory. For a chapter based around the social construction of gender and the dominance of patriarchal discourse, there is a puzzling absence of any mention of homosexuality. Appleman mentions issues of homosexuality in her chapter on reader response, but the words "gay", "lesbian", "queer" or "homosexual" are absent from the chapter on reading through a gender lens.

This leaves the gender lens as a bifocal, and misses an opportunity to expand the scope of the discourse to deconstruct binary notions of gender. The chapter from Deeper Reading this week outlined the benefits of second draft reading for deeper comprehension. I have done precisely this with the Harry Potter series after author J.K. Rowling revealed in 2007 that Dumbledore was gay. Rereading the book and seeing the character through this lens gives new, deeper meaning to portions of the story. An (small) exercise like this would be interesting to bring to a classroom, but Appleman doesn't seem to consider such productive pedagogy within the context of gender construction. This might mean that the lens we use to be more inclusive and to deconstruct oppressive patriarchy might actually serve to deepen gay and lesbian students' feelings of oppression and isolation. 

Stay Classy

Appleman's chapter on "Reading Literature Through the Lens of Privilege and Social Class" was easy to relate to my classroom experience. At the high school I have been placed at for student teaching, which I will refer to as Dartmouth, there is a unique socio-economic dynamic. Dartmouth is located in what, in Saskatoon, is referred to as the "core-neighbourhoods". This is a euphemistic way of saying "inner-city". However, Dartmouth also has an International Baccalaureate (IB) program. This creates a rare mix of privileged and underprivileged students. 

There is a large cohort of Aboriginal students at the school, some of whom are highly academically successful. Yet, many of these students face the cultural, social, racial, and economic barriers that disproportionally affect the Aboriginal residents of this province; this is the maddeningly unjust reality in which we live. 

On the other end of what we might conceive of as the "spectrum of privilege" are the students in the IB program. These are the classes I have been working with. This group consists of about half Caucasian students and half students of colour. Of the students who are visible minorities, none are identifiable as Aboriginal. This group is comprised of students with African, Asian, and Polynesian origins. Many of these students were not born in Canada. The fact that they are racial minorities is something they share with the Aboriginal students of Dartmouth; although, they may have more dissimilarities than similarities in their experience of privilege. 

The students in the IB program have experienced a kind of privilege that many of the Aboriginal students have never known. Anthropologist John Ogbu terms these two kinds of groups "voluntary minorities" and "involuntary minorities". The former group, the IB students, have come to be in their position by choice. Often they were born outside of Canada, and their families moved here for work, or opportunity, or both. Though they speak English as a second language, they speak the prevailing arcolect with far more proficiency than most Aboriginal students. Conversely, the Aboriginal students would be considered "involuntary minorities". They belong to a systematically oppressed people, and have suffered a legacy of institutionalized racism that they in no way chose. The opportunities available to these two groups of racial minorities are bipolar.

The salient point here is that the students -white and non-white- in the IB program are united by class and privilege more than the white IB students and Aboriginal students would be united by Canadian citizenship or speaking English as a first language (although a significant number of Aboriginal students may speak an indigenous language as a first language). The fact that many or most of the students in the IB program come from middle class, highly educated households may be a stronger unifying force than race. However, in the halls of Dartmouth, the IB students do not interact with other students, particularly those relegated to the underclass based on their oppression of their people. 

So far this is all rather abstract, but reeling the rhetoric in for a moment I simply wonder what it would be like for students in the IB class to do an exercise in reading through a social class lens. I wonder where the students in that course, particularly the voluntary minorities, would place themselves on the five rings that Michael used with his students. It would be intriguing if these students would identify with their social class over their racial or ethnic identity. I wonder if a student not born in Canada would realize that they still experience privilege here to a degree that Aboriginal peoples seldom do.

I wrote in an assignment early in this term that class has become nearly irrelevant to the generation in high schools now. I posited that class discourses had been swallowed by gender-based, racial, ethnic, religious, and other discourses. Class is not something on the minds of today's youth. I though this was not necessarily a bad thing as I started my career as a teacher candidate. I thought of class as anachronistic. I believed that the social justice battles of the 21st century would be fought on the fields of race and sexuality. I believe I believed incorrectly. 

Seeing how class is still tied to privilege and how it can still create social stratification in a high school, I think it is something that needs to be taught. Exercises like reading Hamlet through a class lens are essential to getting students to recognize that class is not dead, is not irrelevant. It is alive and it has great influence on interaction in classrooms and schools. Acknowledging this fact, and getting students to acknowledge it is essential if we truly want to teach for social justice.