RES 5530: Race, Class, and Gender in Literacy Research (Spring 2009)

Ashley Catlett

Critique is understood as an interrogation of the terms by which life is constrained in order to open up the possibility of different modes of living; in other words, not to celebrate differences as such but to establish more inclusive conditions for sheltering and maintaining life that resist models of assimilation. Judith Butler

As a teacher I believe in constant self-improvement and self-critique. In this way, I continually adapt and change as the fields of reading and education change. I feel like a better person if I don’t let myself fall into a rut in my personal or professional life. First, in looking at this quote, we have to agree that life is constrained in ways that are distressing and unfair to some groups of people. The status quo is not acceptable. It is not good enough to say that the USA is a free, just and democratic country. We must constantly analyze and uncover where inequalities still exist.

We study and identify our differences not for the sake of celebrating them. We examine our differences in order to find ways to make life better for everyone. Differences are not deficits, as we have come to believe in education. I like the use of the word shelter in the above quote, as it implies protection. I also agree with the use of the word assimilation, as opposed to acculturation. Our society can include everyone without making everyone the same.

Specifically relating this quote to the readings for this course, I think of the different groups we read about: African-Americans, Native Americans, Sudanese refugees, immigrants, working-class whites. As our diversity increases, we must examine our schools to see how we can be more inclusive of these groups. I tend to be a pessimist when it comes to institutions. However, the main idea I take from this course is that schools can and must change; I cannot sit back and fret, “This is just the way it is done. This is the way it is.” I have a responsibility in the “emancipatory literacy education” of students. I must be a social activist who is opposed to assimilation.

I think one of my most important moments of understanding came when I read the Noll article. As teachers we often blame the lack of success and learning on the home environment. The Noll article really showed that the home life of Daniel was supportive and rich in literacy. It was the school that fell down on the job. The articles and chapters that followed Noll reinforced this. A child who is read to and who engages in literacy practices can be turned off by school, or even feel rejected. That rejection basically undoes everything the parents have done to prepare the child for literacy. I think one of our biggest challenges in education is learning to value discourses that differ from white middle class.

As a member of this white middle class, I have to be vigilant not to fall back into the belief that there must be something wrong with the child if she is not successful. I have to constantly question where the disconnect is. Last week I found myself judging a former student when I found out she had dropped out of high school. I thought to myself, “How hard could it be? Just try your best and stay in there! Why did you give up?” However, I did not struggle in high school and I am not Hispanic in a mostly white school. I have no idea what it was like for her or where the disconnect became so painful that she had to quit. I am not excusing her for dropping out; I simply realize that there is more to it than her being lazy. I must blame the school, too.

Another important understanding for me came from the last chapter of Reading Lives. There is not so much a “set of general theories about ‘what works’ for working-class children (or girls, boys, Latino children, etc.). Rather it is an effort to learn about this community, this neighborhood, this family” (154). Hicks helped me understand that books with titles like, How to Reach Out to Latino Parents might not be very helpful to me. It explains why my parent meetings were not well-attended. It explains why no single reading program for struggling readers is the be all and end all. As a teacher I have to examine the community I teach in. Even more than that, I have to examine my students and their families.

My favorite example from the Delpit reading was in chapter eight about the man who had never been in a car. He was not stupid because he did not know how to operate a car. I am not stupid because I cannot use the four remotes that operate our television, DVD, DVR and receiver! Some things are easy and some are hard, and we all have areas where we need more time and instruction. For some reason, in education we have a hard time understanding that and putting it into practice.

I also appreciate Delpit’s book for the way it has forced me to think about African-American students and not just Latinos. I have studied issues of class and race, but always related to my Latino ELL students. I think Latinos and blacks have a lot in common considering the obstacles they have to overcome. Many of them are in a culture of poverty, or the lower class, which does not mesh with the culture of school. How can we remedy this? I asked that question after chapter two of Reading Lives. I suppose Hicks would argue that we need more qualitative research and more hybrid languages of inquiry. What else can we do as teachers?

I, personally, can continue to look for areas where life is constrained so that I can find new ways to teach and reach students. I can study dinosaurs with my students because dinosaurs are interesting to them, not just because “boys like animals.” I can value a student’s knowledge of farming and tending animals. But I have to show true interest. I can foster respect and caring relationships in my classroom. I can make sure than my teaching is “moral action that creatively responds to the particulars of situated histories” (Hicks 157).

Ashley Catlett