Friday, October 29, 2010

I love the way that Harris begins his article on community. I was a small town, country kid entering a university for the first time. I remember how defensive I would become when I heard people attempting to define my way of life, a life they hardly understood. I remember feeling lost and alone. The only sense of "community" I found that first semester was in my agriculture classes. There people understood me. There people loved me. Then things changed. I learned community isn't all it's cracked up to be.

Perhaps such a statement sounds jaded, and in a way I guess it is. I am a person who discovered a long time ago that sometimes it is easier to exist outside of what many consider "community." I am generally open-minded, and I would never intentionally step on another person's beliefs. I expect that sort of respect in return. That is the problem with some versions of the classroom community. Let me explain with two very different examples.

BLED 350, Summer 2007, second summer session. Fifteen students, only two boys. We had all been together in a different ed class for Summer I, and we knew one another, were comfortable with one another. We were a group, a community. We knew that Aumanda was a member of the LDS. We knew Ana's husband was in the Airforce. We knew Jaimie was in search of an MRS degree. We knew Tracy was the Chi Omega president. But what we learned in the four weeks of Summer II was more important. We spent that time talking and learning about ways to address diversity in the classroom. Our teacher, Genie, was bubbly and funny, and with her Master's degree in tow she remains the most brilliant instructor (or professor) I've ever known. Her questions prodded and poked. Her ideas made us think and question who we were, why we were that way, and why and how we needed to accept those who weren't. That class proved to be the foundational element of the current "me," the starting point of my research, the place where love was shared and relationships were built. A community of friends that lasted throughout my undergraduate career and whose impact is felt today.

ENG 330, Sping 2010, a long way from Summer 2007. By this time, I had changed my major three times and was now in my final semester and ready to graduate with an English degree. I knew people in the class of twenty-five, it was a small University after all. Some I had had classes with, others I knew by sight. Our professor opened Day#1 by informing us that we probably weren't going to understand what was going on most of the semester and that she didn't assume that most of us ever would. Fabulous...we are too stupid for your class. Undergrad was definitely difficult, but a little encouragement would have gone a long way. Classroom discussions throughout the semester were often heated. We stepped on each other's toes, but not as much as that professor stepped on those with whom she disagreed. You aren't category X, Y, or Z, so be prepared for a woman's size 10 right in the middle of your forehead. I have two good friends from that class, women with whome I cried and vented. We weren't a community, we were a tripod of support for one another.

The differences in these two classes are extreme. The sense of community from the two is vastly different. In one group, community was all of us and our clashing and disagreement which, in the end, built us all up. In the other, community was only what our professor said and those who agreed or were too afraid to speak up. I want my classes to be Version #1...and if they become Version #2, then it's time to find a different profession.

Saturday, October 23, 2010

Bienvenidos: Su Casa Es Mi Casa

Texas Tech Official Mission Statement:
"As a public research university, Texas Tech advances knowledge through innovative and creative teaching, research, and scholarship. The university is dedicated to student success by preparing learners to be ethical leaders for a diverse and globally competitive workforce. The university is committed to enhancing the cultural and economic development of the state, nation, and world."

Eastern New Mexico University Official Focus:
 
Prepare students for careers and advanced study.
• Impart citizenship and leadership skills and values.
• Support and expand the role of education and excellent teaching at all levels.
• Enable citizens to respond to a rapidly changing world.

I begin this blog with examples of mission/vision statements from the universities which I have attended. I often feel as though these statements are excellent examples of creative writing, pieces which are full of uniquely masked phrases which hide the societal need/desire to make individuals more and more alike.

"Assimilate...Become more like the "dominant" race...Live the American Dream..."

Emotional sentiments, such as "citizenship" and "leadership" or "innovative and creative teaching" are generally not really emphasized within schools or encouraged amongst faculty and staff. Instead we are encouraged to teach according to a standard set by colleges, we are told to promote a single sort of academic voice, we are goaded into discouraging creativity and relationships which might produce creative ideas. The unstated values of academia remind me of a song by Shel Silverstein...

"Our House"

I find the words of Trimbur not only enlightening, but also inspiring and refreshing. His concepts of collaborative learning provide hope for a way of subverting the system while seemingly upholding it (unfortunately, the most effective teachers often have to fly under the radar in this way). I love the following quote: 
 "powerful instrument for students to generate differences, to identify the systems of authority that organize these differences, and to transform the relations of power that determine who may speak and what counts as a meaningful statement."
Trimbur encourages the recognition of ideological controllers in order to break them down and subvert them. He is unafraid to examine the fear of conformity that entrenches our Nation, a pace which is entrenched in the idea of pulling oneself up by his/her bootstraps ala Ben Franklin.

I found Trimbur's discussion of the roots of collaborative learning very interesting. The technique was originally meant to assist in the teaching of literacy and expansion of higher education within traditionally excluded racial and cultural groups. As I read this description, I had quite the epiphany:

A classroom attempting to focus on teaching through a multicultural lens cannot be truly functional if collaborative learning is not a major classroom component!!!!

Without joint conversation, authority cannot be decentered, multiple images can only be shown rather than embraced, and dominant ideology will only be reaffirmed.

Yet doubt remains...can collaborative learning work with freshmen students? Can a classroom function without an explicit show of authority? Can one get hired with such a "hippie" mindset? Are these new ideas simply rosed colored glasses? HOW do I efficiently make students aware of the "Our House" mentality and still bring across the expected goals of the classroom curriculum?

.........

Friday, October 15, 2010

Hmmm...where did I put that magic wand?

I think there are times when every individual wishes that they were part of the fairy tale world of childhood stories. We long for a place where difficulties are solved by singing mice and a flick of a magic wand. As a mom and wife, I have days where I search the couch cushions, hoping that my magic wand fell between them and made me think it wasn't real. As a grad student, I have days where I am convinced an office mates found it laying around the office and confiscated it. I am sure that instructors have similar sentiments. The desire to make students learn what we are teaching them (or attempting to teach them) is innate for those (at least most of those) who reside within the four walls of a classroom. We thrive off of feedback and examples of applied learning, less because we hope to expand our fields of study, but more because we want the reassurance that what we are doing isn’t a waste of our time. (Regardless of what we are paid, the titles we possess, the kind of fancy cars we drive, the most valuable commodity in our lives is time.) It is this self-gratifying idea that makes Patrick Hartwell’s discussion of “magical thinking” so poignant. We yearn to believe that “students will learn only what we teach and only because we teach” (Hartwell 205). Such strong desires are the nuts and bolts which formulate our personal value systems, the ideologies which define not only us as individuals, but the messages brought across in our teaching as well.

I believe that each instructor does possess a type of magic wand in the form of the ideology with which he or she teaches. (By this point it should be clear that EVERY instructor, professor, preacher, teacher, parent, or student has a guiding ideology.) I think that each ideology is custom made, that an ideology cannot be replicated, that no single ideology can be the same for any two people. Like the wands in the Harry Potter books, each is unique and special. The bond between person and ideology is tightly formed, nearly unbreakable. In some instances (here you will see that I am a big believer in fate) maybe ideologies choose their people like wands choose their wizards. The problem with the ideological wand is that (unlike an actual visible magic wand) we (typically) don’t wear our ideologies on our sleeves. (I guess Harry Potter doesn’t wear his on his sleeve either, but you get the point.) I can’t look at someone and relay their personal ideology word for word. I doubt that most individuals can explicitly define their ideologies for others. As instructors, however, we need to move toward a point in which the identification and description of our ideological inclinations can be made visible to our students. Hidden ideologies lead to poor assessments. Hidden ideologies result in breaks in the line of communication. Hidden ideologies block definitions which can develop meaning. Hidden ideologies bar the pathway of learning. Hidden ideologies represent individuals in denial, individuals afraid to address their own beliefs, individuals afraid of themselves. Should we be shoving our ideologies down our students’ throats? No. But we should be making them aware of how we think, what we feel. Otherwise the only ideologies they will ever learn to respect are their own.

Friday, October 8, 2010

How do we teach composition through a multi-cultural lens?

As I am sure most of you know by now, my current research is focused on multicultural children's literature. In my research, I utilize Homi K. Bhabha's ideas of postcolonial thought. I am a big believer that the types of cultural thoughts that his work encourages, those that strike against the constructs of dominant society, should be directed toward the educating of our children. I don't know what statistics would say about the number of people exposed to cultural criticism like that of Bhabha, but I personally believe that the initiation into this form of thought comes too late. Many people believe that teaching college students about cultural concepts is crucial because it will lead to a trickle-down effect in which the ideas which break away from white-dominant thought will, through a long drawn-out process, eventually reach larger and larger groups of society. However, very few individuals are impacted enough by issues of social justice to make it an integral part of their teachings or writings or lifestyles. Most will vehemently agree that the concepts are important and should be spread throughout our communities, but most pass the buck, believing the progression of our society is someone else's responsibility.

I believe that the trickle-down concept isn't working. Teachers of young children, children's book authors, and parents need to be addressing issues of cultural plurality within their curriculums and conversations. The question is how. How do we initiate difficult conversations? How do we show multiple perspectives? How do we avoid offending people? How do we make those who remain engulfed in dominant cultural ideas take us seriously? Yesterday we discussed five types of grammar. The type that my group discussed applies to the grammar which we consider innate and naturally familiar. Problematically, the idea of "innate" grammar is relative. From a socio-linguistic perspective, language is determined by differences in location. Thus, assuming that each student has the same sort of grammar familiarity is an ineffective way of looking at grammar within the writing classroom. The differences in grammars should be addressed within an ideal composition classroom environment. This pluralism is a necessary component of multi-cultural learning.

In the last few weeks I have found a new love for composition. I enjoy the theoretical information we have been reading and the discussions regarding the best ways to teach composition. I believe that a multi-cultural lens should be applied to composition as much as, if not more than, we apply such a perspective in many composition courses. I hope to explore ways in which this can be done throughout the remainder of this semester. I am hopeful that this new mission will also help me to formulate ways to encourage multi-cultural curriculum formation for children as well.