Saturday, April 21, 2012

Journal #10


                While reading “Finding Ways In” by Collingnon, Men, & Tan, I was struck by a few specific things in the study. First of all, I think it’s important to note the Southeast Asian parents’ concern with their noninvolvement in their children’s education. It is in their culture to leave the teaching to the teachers – though they do want the best education possible for their children, they trust the teachers to do their job, so they try to “stay out of the way.”  It’s not that these parents don’t care about what’s best for their child, it’s just a cultural divide that we as teachers need to be aware of. Similarly, since many of the Southeast Asian parents are unfamiliar to the American educational system, they might not even know how to become involved even if they decide to. It’s valuable to consider these cultural differences when we are faced with parents’ noninvolvement in our future classrooms, and do the extra work to reach out and make sure parents are comfortable and welcome to participate in their child’s education.
                A second thing that really hit me was that many of these Southeast Asian families from war torn areas chose to relocate to unfamiliar host countries rather than face death or oppression in their homeland. Neither of these choices is really optimal. A lot of immigrant families have a strong support system in their new country, like friends or relatives who may have immigrated years before and have started to find their way around and understand the culture. These refugees don’t really have many people to turn to who may have had similar experiences. In many cases, the refuges were a family (sometimes torn apart from other family members or suffering the loss of someone) plopped down in a strange new land, not knowing the language or culture, and trying to find success for themselves and their children. They’ve just moved from a war torn land where their only goal was basic survival and safety, and now they have to work towards the next tiers of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. This means they have to find a place to live, a job to make money, a way to fit in in a new country…  A life turned upside down like this has huge psychological consequences for both children and parents, and as teachers, we must be aware of the things our students may have gone through and never assume anything about them.
                One last thing that I think is worth mentioning is the trouble that immigrant students can face when acclimating to a totally new culture. The school system is presumably where the new student will learn most about American culture. Teachers need to be aware of things like using idioms or even things as simple as raising hands or doing group work – these things might not be popular aspects of the new student’s education in his home country (if he was able to even receive an education in his first country!) I think it’s essential that immigrant students are made to feel as comfortable as possible in a classroom that will most likely be totally outside of their comfort zone. Equally as important is that we try to reach out to the families, to make immigrant families feel welcomed into our country and our schools.

Wednesday, April 18, 2012

Journal #9

Last week at the Teen Coalition, I was able to observe the Journey to Healing Program. It is a group of Khmer and other youth who want to become informed about the tragedy so recently suffered by the Khmer people (in some cases their close relatives) and who want to be knowledgeable and proud about their culture. I believe this is a wonderful program to help youths deal with some of the horrifying things that occur in our world, but to also help them realize that they don’t deserve to be discriminated against here in their freedom either. From what I could see, it’s an awesome way for students to learn more about their culture while also fostering feelings of pride.

Since the center is often bustling with many groups working on different things, the Journey to Healing group squirrels themselves off to the side of the meeting room. Monica leads the group and tries to keep the space relatively quiet and unintimidating, asking new visitors to close the door behind them. However, the group members themselves are anything but shy! Some keep pretty quiet, but most are ready and willing to offer their opinions. We begin with a fun ice breaker just to get talking, and jump right into the day’s agenda – choosing a traditional meal that Monica will teach the group to cook during a workshop. Students brainstorm some of their traditional cultural meals and share the ones they are curious to learn how to make. After they’ve exhausted their ideas, each student votes for the best dish that they really want to learn most about. Monica will then learn to cook this dish (if she does not know how to make it already), then bring back her knowledge later on to show the group how to create the culinary masterpiece. (And –of course—eat it, too!)

One of the coolest ideas in the program I observed was how they keep it a safe space. Group members are expected to be respectful, not hurt or offend anyone, and use appropriate language. If they break any of these rules, they can choose their punishment: 10 pushups, 10 jumping jacks, or $1 in the snack fund! The teens are generally very open, welcoming, and respectful, but I think this is a really clever and humorous way to make sure they know how important their behavior is.

Tuesday, April 10, 2012

Journal #8

One of the ideas exhibited in Ladson-Billings’ The Dreamkeepers is one that I have always thought to be a brilliant solution for the school of low socioeconomic status, full of students and parents who may not always have the time to attend open houses because of work conflicts, but who are always concerned for the best interests of their children. Paul Robeson Elementary School, Ladson-Billings’ own creation of an ideal school, is a ”neighborhood center and gathering place that is open from 6:00 am to 10:00 pm. It includes a daycare center, a preschool, a health clinic, and a job training center” (p. 153). I wholeheartedly agree that a school should be the glue that binds a town or community together. Parents and students alike should be familiar with schools, and schools should offer additional services to aid parents and students. This would also create jobs or opportunities for students (or parents) to learn a trade. I just think that it is so important for a school to have its arms open to the community. A school’s aim is obviously to help its students succeed, but if that goal spread to bettering the entire community and creating opportunities for young and old, public education would become even more meaningful.

Patricia Hillard is one teacher Ladson-Billings observed, and I think this woman’s view of knowledge is similar to my own. She teaches writing as an ongoing process. Since I am in the English field, writing is something very meaningful to me. Students so often feel pressure to write something perfect in their first draft, but this rarely happens. I want to help my future students understand that we will keep working together until their piece is the way they want it. I also love that Hillard’s students are “eager to share their latest publications” (p. 89). Students should find joy in the creation of a piece, but writing is often viewed as tedious. I want my students to learn to love writing as a vehicle for expressing themselves and getting through life, not just as something they need to do to pass a class.

I was also inspired by the stories of The New Dreamkeepers in the afterword. All of these teachers work hard every day to make the best possible environment for their African American students and their white or other race students alike. I think it’s important that we recognize and embrace differences, and in the classroom, each student’s unique background can bring something special and positive to the class. These teachers highlighted here are winning examples that caring teachers are all around, and we can make a difference for our students.

Saturday, March 31, 2012

Journal # 7

While reading Hehir’s article, I was mortified by the depiction of Penny’s social worker in that she believed that Penny could not possibly have hope for her disabled son to lead a relatively normal life in the future (p. 11). I have a friend who is currently earning her Master’s degree in social work and working with autistic children. I am sure that she realizes the differences between children on the autism spectrum and other “abled” children, but I know that she wants to help them lead their lives in a way that is as normal as possible. She sees their developmental disorders as differences rather than a sentence that they shouldn’t have hopes and aspirations. Furthermore, she certainly would not be telling a parent that coping with a disabled child is like coping with the death of a child. Maybe this child didn’t turn out precisely the way you imagined him, but what part of life ever does turn out that way?

Similarly, it was interesting to see Cyndi Jones' point of view that “a disabled person is presumed deserving of pity – instead of respect—until the person proves capable of overcoming the disability through extraordinary feats” such as the blind man who climbed Mt. Everest (p. 13). I think it’s true that we often pity disabled people so much that we stop seeing them as people. We focus so much on what they can’t do rather than finding ways to include them in mainstream life experiences (like education). It’s hard for me to see a solution to this problem because disabled people are taken out of the classroom. Even in my experiences as a student and now as a substitute teacher, disabled students are often paired with aides and not always incorporated into mainstream classrooms. This shows society’s view that disability is a tragedy, and we should quietly pity these people who live “lesser” lives. However, perhaps if we stopped looking at disability as a tragedy and saw disabled people as real humans, we would provide them with the extra tools and resources they may need to live adequate lives alongside the rest of us.

This certainly goes along with socio-emotional learning. If a disabled child is told all his life that he is different… So he can’t do this or can’t do that, so he’s not allowed into mainstream classrooms with all of his “normal” classmates, so he shouldn’t even bother having dreams about having a job or a future, he will certainly believe it himself. How can learning occur if this child has already been written off by society? Are we just going through the motions and pushing him through school because we pity his status? Are we really doing our best to try to equip him to find a place in this world? I sincerely hope that society understands that yes, disability makes certain things difficult or even impossible for some, but no one should be told that they can’t work towards goals or dreams. No one should be looked at as if they don’t have talents to offer this world.

Saturday, March 24, 2012

Journal #6

While reading Fine and McClelland’s article, I was particularly struck by the section regarding sex education. It disturbs me that in such a modernized country, we are still teaching our children about sexuality so archaically, preaching abstinence, shame, and negative effects, rather than teaching about safety, acceptance, and allowing each individual to make the decision right for them. While I agree that students shouldn’t be running around having sex before they’re ready, I believe that we must give them the tools to carefully make their own choices while comprehending the effects such choices could have on their lives. As an English teacher, I can assume that I probably won’t be too involved in the curriculum of the health department, but we’re kidding ourselves if we think an “abstinence before marriage” (p. 306) way of approaching the subject is really going to help a group of confused, curious, and hormonal adolescents.

It seems that this approach to teaching sex education is even more detrimental to the adolescent gay or lesbian student. Not only do these students feel they’ll be ostracized for their sexual orientation, but here they are also being taught that they shouldn’t have or act on sexual feelings at all until marriage. If a student is already struggling or coming to terms with his or her own sexuality, the current sex education classrooms probably aren’t doing much to help them feel valued or even comfortable. According to Anderson, “teenagers…usually report that between the ages of twelve and fourteen they first realize that they are much more sexually attracted to persons of their own sex” (p. 339). This means that not only are these teenagers getting an outdated and old-fashioned sex education, but they are also simultaneously “[realizing] that they suddenly belong to a group of people that is often vehemently despised” (p. 339).

These articles just reinforce the idea that my classroom has to be a safe place for all students. I can’t even count the number of times I’ve been subbing and overheard male students refer to each other as “fag” or “queer” in a derogatory way, as if it were nothing. I can’t imagine being a gay youth in a classroom where these disparaging remarks are yelled back and forth as if a “fag” or a “queer” is really a second class citizen. It’s hard enough to be an adolescent, so I want my students to know that being different is ok. I want them to know that just because something doesn’t fit the mold doesn’t mean it is bad. I want them to know that each person, regardless of color, gender, religion, sexual orientation, or whatever, is still a person and deserves to be valued and treated with respect.