As disheartening as the situation may be, the Jesuit you mentioned, Father Arthur, presents an interesting picture. We need to teach things the way that we participate in them. As adults we get the luxury, at least to a degree, to choose the things that we spend our time investigating. Students don't always get this luxury. Teachers may get to choose the subject they teach, but the more specific content often appears out of their hands. Teaching only becomes that much more difficult if the teacher doesn't want to be teaching the topic at hand. That being said, given our present place in academia, we have sat through plenty of classes, lectures, etc. that we most likely found uninteresting, but nonetheless gained something from them. The question seems to be how do we lay the foundation for a student to find something beneficial in something that does not necessarily interest them?
I've realize through our discussion (more from the in person than the digital at this point) that interest may not be the crux of, at least, my worry so much as, how does the material relate to the students we teach? Father Arthur's statement comes to mind again. He has the luxury of teaching prayer to those who seek it. As public school teachers we do not have such luxury. Of course, we still have the option to teach things in our own style. This adds to student engagement for sure, but my worry is still relating this style and the content it carries with it to our students. So many of them have been closed off by school. Much of what we do, as good intentioned as it may be--I'm thinking of your issues with respect for one another, among other things--pushes students further away from the learning process rather than bringing them into it. Test prep is a perfect example of this at my school. I realize our students need plenty of support with their writing. Building a relationship between Social Studies and ELA is a perfect way to address this--students use the skills they have learned in ELA for projects and writing assignments in Social Studies. However, given the regiment of test prep students do not see it this way and the stress put on teachers at this point in the year does not help foster an environment that supports this process. Students will walk into Social Studies, see the task for the day, and reply, "Oh no. Not you too."
Structures are often emphasized as a way to have a smooth running classroom. I agree with this, but it seems to emphasize it is the simple task that is important. One of our curriculum advisers mentioned that independent thinking is one point that a majority of students struggle with today. I'm not sure if he was speaking of a national or city-wide statistic, but in either case, I think you can agree with this issue. The support many students get is a type of hand holding rather than a safety net. Without an open forum for thinking through problems I see little hope for change given the present dilemma. Yes, the tasks we test for are necessary building blocks for life--reading something for information, writing a convincing argument, etc. How do we make the tasks more substantial? Especially, or perhaps necessarily at test prep time. Throughout the year many students participate in things that engage them, but how do we get this engagement from the populations we work with which have been explicitly cited as failures for years?
It seems that students are not allowed a space where failure is okay. Creativity is at the root of the problem of independent thinking. It seems that it is no longer required. Yes, schools are praised for walls covered with chart paper and things of that sort, but not in the news. Failing is all that is talked about in the news and across the media outlets. The picture that this paints is that is it not okay to fail, and if you fail you do not deserve better. What is creative about the way education is handled in New York?
I recently found out a student of mine joined a gang. Nothing new in New York, but the first time I've dealt with this personally. Regardless of my feelings on his decision, his choice makes it very clear he feels that he has few other options if any. "What else am I going to do?" was his response when I asked him what he was thinking. How do we begin to relate to individuals who see so few options laid out in front of them.
The same student mentioned above has been having a hard time with teachers lately. He rarely gives me trouble and has been sent to my office to cool off because honestly I don't get riled up by him. Unless he says something explicitly demeaning about a fellow classmate or one of my coworkers he's free to swear and huff to his hearts content. It usually doesn't last long at all once there is no one around to be bothered by his performance. At one point, I asked him quite frankly what is his issue with school. To my surprise, he said (and I'm paraphrasing) he was intimidated by the work. No student has ever explicitly told me the reason they act out is because then they don't seem like their dumb. Not that he said he was dumb, or I'm trying to imply that with what I'm saying. For him to be so honest and up front states quite the opposite. Still he has no point of access and is so traumatized by his experience that he has given up looking for one. He'll be 16 in a little over a year and is waiting to drop out (he's in the eighth grade presently).
I know for any strengths I may have as a teacher I have a dozen faults to go with them, but what if anything is the immediate response to things like this. So much of my way of thinking involves getting kids in the sixth grade and seeing them graduate in a less restrictive environment, if not decertified, with a tool box they can carry with them for life. That time frame is not the reality we deal with day to day. The above mentioned student arrived at out school in October. I'm not willing to admit an issue of style here; however, it does make one think.
7 March 2011
Dear Nick,
I am also excited by this exchange. Brilliant. A chance to write freely with no parameters, letting the heart speak openly, hopefully passionately! As the Little Prince says, "on ne voit bien qu'avec le cœur. L'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux." That is, "It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.
To this end, I think it telling that the idea I was most excited to respond to in your letter was the idea you wrote came from your "pen taking you elsewhere." Go! Go I say!
That part? This idea of decisive indecisiveness. What is the source? This passivity?! Why? And who? is there fear of risk taking? Of failure of embarrassment? Is there a lack of self-efficacy? Is it defiance, an instinctual response to subconsciously recognized social injustice and power imbalance? (I'm thinking in terms of what we teach, the language we use, the sources, the inescapable and avoidable baises, on and on.) Or is it positive? Is there a trust in, and therefore deference to, the teacher? We often get frustrated at the idea of students "just wanting to be told the answers." Why? If I'm in their shoes, I don't want to waste time needlessly - I want the answer so I can know, move on, and ask more questions! It would be out of a desire for more learning that I would want the answer. Out of a desire for inquiry.
Also, incredible story about your student and "The Stranger." Brilliant, the idea that "meaningless actually opens up more possibilites." For one, that's a beautiful sight into spiritual freedom (though wherein lies the responsibility?). More exciting is, of course, the inquisitive and willing learner. And how fortunate that her style so closely matched yours! That you found each other in this sense. You, as both teacher and you, together simultaneously, come alive. And "the world needs people who have come alive." A testament to the importance of authentic self.
A Jesuit priest I once knew, named Fr. Arthur, said that people should only teach their own styles of prayer. That if I pray a certain way, that is how I ought to teach others prayer. It is authentic this way. Meaningful. Above all, not faked at all. Here is an opportunity to teach your style of learning!
This gets at, or starts to get at, my fascination with respect. In your anecdote there was an obviously abundant amount of mutual respect. Inspiring! But this is not the norm. Disheartening.
Why do we force this one way of learning? Sure, differentiation, but who are we kidding? We differentiate within strict parameters. Our schools are so narrow. They are set up for a student like yours, but are forced full of so many who do not need to learn like this.
And they shouldn't! Society is responsible for educating its next generation. We don't want a nation of armchair theorists. We need a handful of passionate ones (like yourself) but the more pretending there is, the messier things become. Can we investigate our values?
What is our goal, ultimately? Through it all? In other words, what is the meaning of life? 42? Fair enough.
But respect is up there. Respect, love for our fellow humans. No matter the context, the other. Why else do we hold Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Jr., and Nelson Mandela in such high esteem? And the Dalai Llama, and Thich Naht Hahn? In them we see our ideals becoming embodied, first and foremost among them, respect for others.
How do we reflect this in society? To begin with, respect of self, others, and the space one is in, and the unknown. What, exactly, does this look like though?
I am also excited by this exchange. Brilliant. A chance to write freely with no parameters, letting the heart speak openly, hopefully passionately! As the Little Prince says, "on ne voit bien qu'avec le cœur. L'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux." That is, "It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.
To this end, I think it telling that the idea I was most excited to respond to in your letter was the idea you wrote came from your "pen taking you elsewhere." Go! Go I say!
That part? This idea of decisive indecisiveness. What is the source? This passivity?! Why? And who? is there fear of risk taking? Of failure of embarrassment? Is there a lack of self-efficacy? Is it defiance, an instinctual response to subconsciously recognized social injustice and power imbalance? (I'm thinking in terms of what we teach, the language we use, the sources, the inescapable and avoidable baises, on and on.) Or is it positive? Is there a trust in, and therefore deference to, the teacher? We often get frustrated at the idea of students "just wanting to be told the answers." Why? If I'm in their shoes, I don't want to waste time needlessly - I want the answer so I can know, move on, and ask more questions! It would be out of a desire for more learning that I would want the answer. Out of a desire for inquiry.
Also, incredible story about your student and "The Stranger." Brilliant, the idea that "meaningless actually opens up more possibilites." For one, that's a beautiful sight into spiritual freedom (though wherein lies the responsibility?). More exciting is, of course, the inquisitive and willing learner. And how fortunate that her style so closely matched yours! That you found each other in this sense. You, as both teacher and you, together simultaneously, come alive. And "the world needs people who have come alive." A testament to the importance of authentic self.
A Jesuit priest I once knew, named Fr. Arthur, said that people should only teach their own styles of prayer. That if I pray a certain way, that is how I ought to teach others prayer. It is authentic this way. Meaningful. Above all, not faked at all. Here is an opportunity to teach your style of learning!
This gets at, or starts to get at, my fascination with respect. In your anecdote there was an obviously abundant amount of mutual respect. Inspiring! But this is not the norm. Disheartening.
Why do we force this one way of learning? Sure, differentiation, but who are we kidding? We differentiate within strict parameters. Our schools are so narrow. They are set up for a student like yours, but are forced full of so many who do not need to learn like this.
And they shouldn't! Society is responsible for educating its next generation. We don't want a nation of armchair theorists. We need a handful of passionate ones (like yourself) but the more pretending there is, the messier things become. Can we investigate our values?
What is our goal, ultimately? Through it all? In other words, what is the meaning of life? 42? Fair enough.
But respect is up there. Respect, love for our fellow humans. No matter the context, the other. Why else do we hold Gandhi, Martin Luther King, Jr., and Nelson Mandela in such high esteem? And the Dalai Llama, and Thich Naht Hahn? In them we see our ideals becoming embodied, first and foremost among them, respect for others.
How do we reflect this in society? To begin with, respect of self, others, and the space one is in, and the unknown. What, exactly, does this look like though?
10 February 2011
Dear Lincoln,
I'm glad we've decided to have this correspondence. Your comments in class today about how discussing your possible research topic goes hand in hand with this exchange. That being the case I must ask, what is your present concern? THrough our conversations I know the way people interact and how that way of relating is learned or acquired has been on your mind. That is of course a simple version of it, but I hope this opens up a space where I will not interrupt you until you've at least made an attempt at finishing your thought.
My present concern, which is also a long standing one, is how do we make learning visceral? How do we broaden the discussion of learning beyond a simple intellectual pursuit.
Ironically, my interest is rooted in the foundations of the American Dream. It is grounded in democracy as it is presented purely and not conflated with capitalism. Democracy was founded on the notion of an educated populist. We need to understand our relationship with the world around us to be able to move about that world in a decisive way. A Decision rooted in a sense of responsibility in have decided is one of the principle aims of education. However intellectual this idea may appear it cannot be denied how visceral the act of making a decision can be. The anxiety of making a decision one way or another is enough to make a person ill. Indecision is enough to make a decisive person ill as well, and yet I find so many of our students decide (for lack of a better term) to remain within it. This mode of deciding pales in comparison to making an explicit decision. One is active and the other is passive. So many of our students seem to think, and this may be an assumption on my part, that their power is rooted in their indecision. This is their way of undermining a teachers control--for better or worse, if this distinction can be made by remaining indecisive, passive, whatever a teacher wills is irrelevant. How do we help students recognize that a certain degree of passivity helps in relation to the happenstance of life, yet this only further emphasizes the need to decide? Their freedom hangs in the balance.
These or perhaps this tendency I am bringing up may seem very big or abstract when we are faced with the day to day of the classroom, but it only makes dealing with it that much more pertinent..
I was hoping to be more conversational, but my pen took me elsewhere.
On a lighter note I'd like to share a story from school that happened today. Some background, I interjected myself in a conversation between a co-worker and one of our eighth graders a few months ago. They basically have a correspondence on sticky notes and at one point Torres--my co-worker, asked, "Fortier, who was that guy. . . the founder of Existentialism." He was referring to Kierkegaard.
I was excited by the thought of introducing a student to such a thinker and for the sake of expediency, walked G to one of the offices/book rooms in our school and gave her a copy of Camus' The Stranger. Before the week was out, between Torres and I, she had in her possession The Stranger, The Myth of Sisyphus, and The Present Age. The latter by Kierkegaard, the others by Camus.
Last week G told me she had finished The Stranger. She asked if we could talk about it because as much as she like the story, she wasn't sure she got the deeper meaning. We met today to discuss the book. It was quite a moment to hear G's response to my questions about what she thought the book was about, "It seem like the book is trying to say life is meaningless."
My response, "And?" I was only trying to imply she had caught the major jist of the book but what did that imply?
We talked for close to an hour and kept coming back to this idea of meaninglessness. G felt for the most part this was a negative thing. I simply mentioned the negative association with this was not so much implicit in the claim as it was conditioned. She sat for a moment and simply stated (I paraphrase because sadly I cannot remember her exact words) the idea of meaninglessness actually opened up more possibilities. I saw her face light up as the thought hit her and she stated it. Followed by, "I've never thought that before."
I cannot convey how amazing a moment it was to see. It only furthered my research interests. I will leave you with that, the thought of an eighth grader from Sunset Park reconciling the thought that life is meaningless in a positive tone.
Your Friend,
Nicholas J. Fortier
2/10/11
I'm glad we've decided to have this correspondence. Your comments in class today about how discussing your possible research topic goes hand in hand with this exchange. That being the case I must ask, what is your present concern? THrough our conversations I know the way people interact and how that way of relating is learned or acquired has been on your mind. That is of course a simple version of it, but I hope this opens up a space where I will not interrupt you until you've at least made an attempt at finishing your thought.
My present concern, which is also a long standing one, is how do we make learning visceral? How do we broaden the discussion of learning beyond a simple intellectual pursuit.
Ironically, my interest is rooted in the foundations of the American Dream. It is grounded in democracy as it is presented purely and not conflated with capitalism. Democracy was founded on the notion of an educated populist. We need to understand our relationship with the world around us to be able to move about that world in a decisive way. A Decision rooted in a sense of responsibility in have decided is one of the principle aims of education. However intellectual this idea may appear it cannot be denied how visceral the act of making a decision can be. The anxiety of making a decision one way or another is enough to make a person ill. Indecision is enough to make a decisive person ill as well, and yet I find so many of our students decide (for lack of a better term) to remain within it. This mode of deciding pales in comparison to making an explicit decision. One is active and the other is passive. So many of our students seem to think, and this may be an assumption on my part, that their power is rooted in their indecision. This is their way of undermining a teachers control--for better or worse, if this distinction can be made by remaining indecisive, passive, whatever a teacher wills is irrelevant. How do we help students recognize that a certain degree of passivity helps in relation to the happenstance of life, yet this only further emphasizes the need to decide? Their freedom hangs in the balance.
These or perhaps this tendency I am bringing up may seem very big or abstract when we are faced with the day to day of the classroom, but it only makes dealing with it that much more pertinent..
I was hoping to be more conversational, but my pen took me elsewhere.
On a lighter note I'd like to share a story from school that happened today. Some background, I interjected myself in a conversation between a co-worker and one of our eighth graders a few months ago. They basically have a correspondence on sticky notes and at one point Torres--my co-worker, asked, "Fortier, who was that guy. . . the founder of Existentialism." He was referring to Kierkegaard.
I was excited by the thought of introducing a student to such a thinker and for the sake of expediency, walked G to one of the offices/book rooms in our school and gave her a copy of Camus' The Stranger. Before the week was out, between Torres and I, she had in her possession The Stranger, The Myth of Sisyphus, and The Present Age. The latter by Kierkegaard, the others by Camus.
Last week G told me she had finished The Stranger. She asked if we could talk about it because as much as she like the story, she wasn't sure she got the deeper meaning. We met today to discuss the book. It was quite a moment to hear G's response to my questions about what she thought the book was about, "It seem like the book is trying to say life is meaningless."
My response, "And?" I was only trying to imply she had caught the major jist of the book but what did that imply?
We talked for close to an hour and kept coming back to this idea of meaninglessness. G felt for the most part this was a negative thing. I simply mentioned the negative association with this was not so much implicit in the claim as it was conditioned. She sat for a moment and simply stated (I paraphrase because sadly I cannot remember her exact words) the idea of meaninglessness actually opened up more possibilities. I saw her face light up as the thought hit her and she stated it. Followed by, "I've never thought that before."
I cannot convey how amazing a moment it was to see. It only furthered my research interests. I will leave you with that, the thought of an eighth grader from Sunset Park reconciling the thought that life is meaningless in a positive tone.
Your Friend,
Nicholas J. Fortier
2/10/11
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