After finishing this week’s readings, I was struck by a few distinct moments in the texts that I’d like to explore further. The first was a story shared by Hilary Janks in her introduction to Doing Critical Literacy. In the midst of sharing the important ways critical literacy explores questions of power, diversity, access and textual design/redesign, she shared a short story about an elderly woman in one of her university classes that really struck a chord with me.
This woman, unlike her younger peers who were more socialized to the conventions of a college classroom, chose not to share her opinion without being invited to do so. In an interesting analysis of the other students’ mindsets, Janks says, “the students saw her as a victim of a sexist practice and wanted her to adopt the interaction patterns used at the university and to contribute whenever she had something to say” (2014). As I read this passage, it caused me to reflect on my own experiences in classrooms, both secondary and university. In general, it seems that the American classroom prioritizes students who are eager to jump in and share; the ones who state their positions and thoughts confidently in the midst of discussions. Disagreement, I’ve found, is usually encouraged as we assume it means students are thinking critically and examining what those around them have to say. While none of this is inherently bad, I really wonder if we’re truly getting at the heart of a truth-telling and honest discussions when the loudest or most confident students in the room are sharing. How often have I, without realizing it, spent discussions thinking more about how I was going to respond to what was being said, instead of how I could understand it? So here’s what, in Janks’ story, really blew my mind. Once the students adapted and began to invite the elderly student to share, she says, “what they discovered when they did this is that if you ask someone to speak, you have to listen to what they say” (Janks, 2014). How powerful! What they saw as “victimhood” in this woman, was simply a different way for her to achieve power in the classroom. Her life experiences and the way she chose to approach the world was not, in fact, a shortcoming, but an asset. What incredible power this woman had in, instead of choosing to compromise her set of unique cultural conventions and values, she honored her perspective and chose to be herself. Her example really demonstrated to me the power of creating environments where students can stay authentic to their backgrounds during discussions and listening is prioritized as much as sharing. I feel like this is especially relevant, given Janks’ and the other authors’ focuses on the theoretical foundation of critical literacy this week. So much of what we read really honed in on critical literacy as a means to identify the workings of power in texts, and then (as Janks puts it) “redesign” or reimagine texts in a more transformative, equitable way. This process will almost guarantee a wide variety of potentially disparate or even conflicting opinions as students tease apart texts to find meaning and discuss topics on unequal power distributions. With that, however, I believe the lesson the elderly woman taught the other students is especially pertinent. We, as educators, must make sure that we create an environment where students are invited to share their perspectives and explore new ones, and at the same time allowed to authentically show up as the complex, multi-layered person that they already are. In some cases, I believe this process may involve structuring a discussion so each student gets an uninterrupted chance to share (ie. restorative practice circles). That said, it also makes me think about how I need to balance the way structured discussion can ‘make room’ for quieter students with the reality that some stories -- even hard ones, or loud ones, or emotional ones -- really need to be told. Dr. Grinage’s work hugely impacted me in showing how the introduction of “traumatic” texts like the poem “Strange Fruit” into the classroom actually invites a cathartic process of grieving that has been prevented for years due to our culture’s collective unwillingness to admit to a past of racial trauma in the U.S. He states that “the transmission of past racial violence and the emergence of this violence in the present is illustrative of a racially melancholic nation struggling to exist with generations of ghosts” (2018) -- “ghosts” that have allowed to exist by silencing language around racial violence in schools and society at large. This, I feel, is the other ditch that we as educators need to avoid. Do we need to create spaces with helpful structure so that students can approach challenging topics in an environment of safety? Absolutely. But once the idea of “creating safety” actually becomes a way of silencing perspectives or insulating students from the harsh reality of our nation’s past, it is no longer creating safety, it is perpetuating harm. Resource Link: Teaching for Black Lives - This is the website for Teaching for Black Lives, a book published in 2015, and includes practical resources available for download and practical support for educators looking to implement anti-racist classroom practices and teach in a way that honors and uplifts students of color, and particularly black students, in their classrooms. References: Grinage, J. (2018). Socializing with the Ghosts of Our Racial Past: Embracing Traumatic Teaching and Learning in Literacy Education. Journal of Language & Literacy Education. Janks, H., Dixon, K., Ferreira, A., Granville, S., & Newfield, D. (2014). Doing critical literacy: texts and activities for students and teachers. New York: Routledge
1 Comment
Alexandra
9/22/2019 10:21:17 am
Hi Kathleen,
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AboutM.Ed English Ed. candidate at the University of Minnesota. ArchivesCategories |