A final reflection,
“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 difference as such but to establish more inclusive conditions for sheltering and maintaining life that resist models of assimilation.” As this quote by Judith Butler states, critiquing, in this case through reading, allows one to take the knowledge that one has and open up the possibility of different ways of thinking, not just to celebrate our differences as a peoples, but to gather conditions in which one can assist in allowing and maintaining those differences so that one can protect against the obstructive dangers of assimilation, which lead to some form of bland sameness. Taking this into consideration, within the confines of this course, I have continued, through the numerous readings and reflections, to enhance my ability to not only enjoy differences within those that I teach, but also continue to nurture those differences as they are a part of the beauty that defines, not only education, but also the eloquence that is humanity.
From the beginning of the course, I was and have been forced to tangle with the concepts of the costs of assimilationism within the subcultures that are prevalent, not only here in America, but also throughout the world. As sad as it makes me to admit it, I had never considered these costs until in, “Ovyh Dyuh,” the author discusses the cost of social affirmation through learning the language of the colonizer, which was isolation from her people yet it helped her within the confines of her education, future successes, and most of all, within the world that the white colonizers had developed. It was interesting to see that there were and are social expenditures that one must pay to fit into the norm of the dominant society; however, the ever present and resounding undercurrent that pervaded my mind whilst reading and even during reflection, was one simple thing: I ask the same of my students. I ask my Black American students to speak the language of a peoples whom dragged their ancestors here on rotten ships, shackled to flooring without the hope of even standing, let alone not lying and often dying in their own and others excrement, laced with the tears of raped mothers and dead innocence within even the youngest of passengers. I would never ask my students to accept the numerous half hearted apologies or the fact that history has attempted to recover these unforgivable actions; I would not ask a Jew to hug a German; I would never ask my Great Grandfather to apologize for the innocent victims that he massacred under the name of racial purity, God and county; and most of all, I would never ask myself to proclaim some semblance of forgiveness for any of the atrocities my bloodlines have forced upon the world; yet I demand that my students correct their pronunciations and dot those I’s that their families former masters drove them to, even in the face of what one could argue is just ridicule from their peers for doing so. Or at least I use to, now I will focus on the importance of doing both, learning the language skills of the dominant so they can be successful and encourage an appreciation for their slang and Creole.
Also, during this course I became very interested in and engaged in the theoretical approaches and research of teaching Native American students through their own learning styles instead of trying to force them into undersized desks to learn stories in ways that demonstrates no value to the forms of expression that their forefathers have been practicing since they laid claim to this land over the frozen path through, what is now, Alaska. Further, this understanding grew within me to include those that also come from oral backgrounds, such as the children from Appalachian families whom have derived their family legacies through the oral traditions of camp fires, living rooms, and now even recorded medias. I realized, and found, new hope within the ideas of accepting a new definition of literacy that includes the oral traditions of so many of the students that not only live in America, but are also within the desks and walls of my classroom. No longer will I only teach myths, legends, and histories through the narrow minded approaches of textbooks and handouts, but I will immerse my students into the learning environments of their peoples as well through oral literature, recordings of locals giving the oral histories of this region, and through participation in the traditional dances, that, at one time, I only taught my students through a two dimensional sheet of paper. Also, during writing excursions, I will encourage students to record their stories as they write them like their own forefathers, with the lisp of a southern accent, and a tall tale of histories unrequited since the modern age has overcome them.
I have learned as stated in the article by Dr. Staples, “Such a decision is politicized when it is coupled with active resistance to traditional tendencies in educational policy and research to conceptualize literacy as being either a school or out of school based practice.” We must go against the traditional norms of teaching that isolate our students by ignoring their race, heritage, and social economical status, and trying to “cookie cutter,” and Tracy stated in one of her posts, a form of education that tries to fit all of our students into one mold that will only suffice to stifle the originality and differences that make us not just different, but unique. If Charles Darwin had of seen the animals on the Galapagos islands and decided to “cookie cutter” a solution of evolution that only included the dominant animals, then our protection and endangerment laws would only serve to support those animals and we would have long since lost the beauty that is lizards with human like eyes, bushes that grow blue leaves, and water snakes that provide nourishment to the island by way of their skin like bodies. Not only would we have lost those animals, but also the ecosystem itself would have fallen, leaving death to all in its wake, just like in education, when we try to “cookie cutter” our students, we kill not only their ability to learn, but we endanger the society that education is meant to help build and support through workers with knowledge and talents beyond just those that speak the languages of the social sciences, but also the languages of literacy itself.
With all of the knowledge gained and future products that will affect not only my lessons, but also my students, I have also developed an appreciation for reflective practices. Too often, I read a piece of research and think about how wonderful it is and its implications on the world, as I am trapped in a mode of educational understandings and theology, instead of thinking about how research may broaden my own classes and lessons. If this course has taught me anything, it is that research about a boy named Jake or a girl named Laura, in elementary school, can tell me a great deal about my high school students and classroom. Also, I have found a new relevance for discussions with my peers about not only lesson plans, which has been the main tenant of my conversations as a new teacher, but also discussions of recent research that could benefit our students. It is a beautiful thing to read and understand the implications of research as well as I think I do, but it is even more impressive how much my fellow teachers add to that understanding in ways that not only inform something I may have missed in my fast paced reading, but also how their thoughts, observations, and experiences with the text provide a sense of enrichment to the over arching picture that is educational research and practice.
William Byland