I hope they still have Fahrenheit 451 on their library shelves

Last week, as part of Arizona's 2010 termination of the teaching of "ethnic studies, "the Tucson Unified School District released an initial list of books to be banned from its schools today. According to district spokeperson Cara Rene, the books 'will be cleared from all classrooms, boxed up and sent to the Textbook Depository for storage'" (Biggers). This shocking news left me wondering: how did this ban come to be in the first place? Well the original ban was signed into law in May of 2010 by Arizona governor Jan Brewer and officially it "prohibits the teaching of any classes that promote 'the overthrow of the United States government,' 'resentment toward a race or class of people,' 'are designed primarily for pupils of a particular ethnic group' or 'advocate ethnic solidarity instead of the treatment of pupils as individuals'” (Barr). Ah, so the reason this ban came into existence may be because it doesn't initially sound all that bad. After all, children shouldn't be taught to overthrow the government; that would be completely counter-intuitive to one of the purposes of a public school education in this country (to create a compliant workforce). Students shouldn't be taught to resent a certain race or class of people- is resentment something we ever want taught in our public schools? And a class designed for a particular group of students doesn't seem fair. And that last part is downright lovely- of course people should be treated as individuals! That's what America's all about :)

Now to the book ban. The initial banned books include Paolo Friere's Pedagogy of the Oppressed, William Shakespeare's The Tempest, Joseph Bruchac's A Friend of the Indians, N. Scott Momaday's The Delight Song of Tsoai-Talee, Like Water for Chocolate, and Sherman Alexie's The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fist Fight in Heaven, just to name a few.

Why would all that uniting of Arizona school children have to be done alongside the banning of more books from schools? Why would fifty-some-odd books, such as Sandra Cisneros' masterpiece The House on Mango Street, need to be banned from Arizona school campuses? These books all involve issues relevant to ethnic groups or that raise questions pertaining to ethnic solidarity. In order to not be encouraged to overthrow the government, not promote resentment toward certain races or classes, not teach design classes for certain ethnic groups, and to treat people as individuals, books need to be banned? Authors, who are attempting to express their opinions and particular viewpoints about ethnic issues, need to be silenced? In order to see people as individuals, and not primarily as part of ethnic categories, we must lose sight of the fact that these books represent the viewpoints of individuals and the experiences of individuals? Huh.

Believing that an idea cannot be presented without being promoted is ridiculous- is teaching about the holocaust promoting it? And, by the way, according to the wording of the ban, the teaching of the holocaust could be classified as an attempt to make Jewish students feel united and resentment toward their non-Jewish classmates. This law, and its seemingly well-intentioned wording, is incredibly dangerous. It could be applied to almost any teachings that present a viewpoint of American history (or any other country's history for that matter) that is counter to the ones we were presented as children…you know, like all that shit about Johnny Appleseed and the first Thanksgiving. In fact, one of the already banned books is banned for that very reason: telling the darker side of Thanksgiving (Michael Dorris's Why I'm Not Thankful for Thanksgiving).

The history of the oppressed is not an alternate history; it is the history of the human race. If we begin to believe that the stories of the oppressed are dangerous stories that will only serve to incite our nation's children to believe they are oppressed, we are only working to silence those who have gained their voices and learned to speak out against injustice and make the experience understood and recognized for what it is.

So, what do the people who support this law really hope to accomplish? Well, some of them simply don't understand the ugliness lurking beneath its wording and are somehow missing the blatant slime covering the action of book banning. And to those people, I politely implore you to remove your heads from your asses. As for everyone else, the ones who truly believe that this law is good because it will promote solidarity among school children, I ask you to seriously consider how limiting the resources of knowledge and literature available to the children of Arizona is really going to accomplish anything like that? I agree with some of the wording of the law because parts of it attempt to eradicate viewing history from one vantage point (in this case the vantage point of the oppressed); however, the answer is not to silence those voices. The answer is to add more perspectives, not block out more. And you have to recognize that censoring viewpoints will not increase solidarity, it will only work to make certain students, the ones who feel that you are censoring their viewpoints, to see what you're doing as oppression, the very oppression you may think you've eradicated.

On this Martin Luther King Day, do not let yourself be misled by these people who attempt to silence others, with good intentions or not, with awareness of what they are really doing or not. Do not let voices be silenced and books be banned. Do no support a school system that wants to further the goal of creating compliant/non-thinking young citizens rather than the goal of promoting free-thought, exploration of all perspectives of history, and young people who grow up with an eager desire to continue learning and to not be oppressed by bullshit such as that happening in Arizona right now. Oppression is not a monster under the bed that if we just stop believing is there, will go away.

Until next time,
Leena

Works Cited
Barr, Andy. "Arizona bans 'ethnic studies.'" Politico.com. 12 May 2010. Web. 16 Jan 2012. http://www.politico.com/news/stories/0510/37131.html
Biggers, Jeff. "Who's afraid of 'The Tempest'?" Salon.com. 13 Jan 2012. Web. 16 Jan 2012. http://www.salon.com/2012/01/13/whos_afraid_of_the_tempest/
Norrell, Brenda. "Tucson schools bans books by Chicano and Native American authors." The Narcosphere. 14 Jan 2012. Web. 16 Jan 2012. http://narcosphere.narconews.com/notebook/brenda-norrell/2012/01/tucson-schools- bans-books-chicano-and-native-american- authors#.TxOEmuBLVKr.facebook

Letter to the Leaves: We as English Majors

I want to make it known that as an English major, I at times feel as an outsider. All too often in my classes do I hear how he's been reading books since he’s been in middle school, or how they've got this published or that published. I see how some of my fellow classmates use knowledge as social currency and think that they are wealthier then someone who is less able to present their self in the written word.

As English majors, we have to acknowledge that we view education differently than others.

Because so much of our worth is intangible, we are quick to defend it at all costs. We have put so much time and effort into reading and acquiring this motivation for self-education that we forget that not everyone has this.

In the sciences, people expect the instructor to tell them the right answer. This is expected because most if not all of the time there is only ONE right answer. It is as simple as "put this in, get this out". Tests are multiple-choice and leave no room for the self.

English isn't like that. All we have to do is justify our ideas with a few lines from the text and we arrive at a correct answer (thus we are all critics with our own critical theory; We create this critical theory, from our sense of self). We have all had that kid in class who is way off base, but the teacher still gives him a pat on the back.

He gets that pat on the back because in English there is partial credit. We reward effort.

Sciences do not. It’s all or nothing. And with all this emphasis on the correct answer, the end, why is it so surprising to you instructors that this is your students’ main concern.

We as a society have shifted from transcending Emerson to deifying Einstein.

We live in a world of instant gratification.

To call your students "idiotic", "stupid" or "unmotivated" is superficial. You are criticizing the effect and not the cause.

But Bermuda, it’s not a lack of ability. These students are not mindless robots programmed by society. They can still choose to make an attempt. You see Bermuda, all it is a lack of effort.

Yeah, I agree. It’s totally a lack of effort and not a lack of ability for most students. But you see that’s where you instructors come in. You have the toughest job of all because you have to reverse this social norm. You have to inspire your students to want to better their self for more than a piece of paper.

But you must understand that genuine inspiration cannot be given, but must be fostered.

No one should be in a position to instruct if they cannot put aside their self-wealth to see the promise each student has. It is your job to show these students the relevance writing and reading have for their lives.

Now, there are always going to be people who just go to college to get a piece of paper. But those are going to be the same people who go through life as a means to an end.

They will never know the beauty of a sunrise, the soothing echo of the ocean waves, or the invigorating power of mountain air.

And even this is not the greatest tragedy. A tragedy more egregious, is their loss of self-reliance.

People are no longer reliant on themselves as they once were for knowledge. We are slowly losing that aspect as more and more of our society becomes Google-able.

But as English majors, this is our duty to the world:

To show the rest, the relevance of writing, the importance of reading, and most of all,

The beauty inherent in the self.

Undoubtedly Yours,
Bermuda

In Defense of Meanness

Today, I told a student, to her face, that she had done something “stupid.” And the crazy thing is she didn’t run away crying or put up a defense mechanism or block out entirely the point I was making. She smiled and quietly laughed and nodded knowingly. Because she knew it was true. (She had plagiarized).

I did not go into my meeting with this student with the intention of using the word “stupid” or any other word like it. However, once speaking with her, I knew something had to be said to get my point across about the severity of what she had done. I was speaking with her directly and openly, with no hostility, reiterating to her what could happen to her student status if she were to ever do this again. She didn’t really “get it” or react until I said, “what you did…was stupid.” Her quite laugh spoke volumes to me as I understood completely what it meant coming from her: she got it. And she clearly agreed.

Despite what some of my fellow educators may feel about words like “stupid,” I know that what I said to this student, paired with my tone, made all the difference in her understanding and openness to what I was telling her. As soon as we started talking, she was not afraid; she knew she had no reason to be because I was not angry. I was not giving up on her as a person; I was simply letting her know that what she did was dumb and could have and should have been avoided. It was this little bit of honest meanness in word choice that brought everything home. She expressed appreciation for what I said- because it was honest. We were two people communicating openly, an often difficult feat for a professor and a student.

After the disagreements that went down on this blog last week, I have been thinking a lot about the concept of “meanness.” Is it, in fact, an act of flagrant self-regard for one to proclaim the downfalls of others? Was I just abusing my position as this girl’s instructor when I told her that what she did was idiotic? Or was it in fact my duty to tell her that?

What I realized is that when we talk about people being "idiots" or doing something “stupid” or “dumb,” it is not a reference to their mental capabilities; it is a reference to their behavior. An “idiot” is "an utterly foolish or senseless person." Not someone who is incapable of higher thought or sense, but rather someone who practices neither.

When students don't put in the effort to improve and when they don't attempt critical thought and when they write half-assed drafts with no thought behind them (and when they knowingly plagiarize), they are behaving like idiots. It is idiotic to spend thousands of dollars on an education that you are not intellectually invested in. This common behavior not only reveals a problem with the average modern student but also with the system as a whole. How did it get this way and what can be done about it? In my opinion, the main issue is that college has become a means to better career prospects. It is just a game so many people play- they want the rewards of the game (the degree, the better paying job, the prestige) without putting in the intellectual work. And without that intellectual work, they don't deserve the degree because, damn it, they're not earning it. To expect to get rewarded for something you're not putting in the work for is idiotic. And it is clear when a student and a person is really trying (like the English language learners both Jack and Slick mentioned in their blogs last week), because improvement comes with that territory. And it is obvious when a student is not trying. Higher education is great because no one has to do it; no one is forced to go to college. So, when a student behaves like he is forced to go to class and forced to go to the writing center and only put in the minimal thoughtless effort to get by, he is being idiotic.

And this branches out to all aspects of life- people who live their lives as if they are forced into every action, every event, as if they have no freewill are idiotic. The only way to not be an idiot, is to stop being so apathetic and to really try at the things you set out to do, not just float by at everything. People like that, until they change, are a waste of everyone's (except maybe therapists') time and energy.

This brings me back to my original point: I point out the downfalls of lazy students and lazy people who show no progress because they do not put in the time and effort to improve at the things they do, they allow themselves to be coddled and their only explanation for their behavior is boredom. I feel like them sometimes, but I won't allow that to be my life because I see the way they are and remind myself and others not to be like that. This has nothing to do with talent or natural brilliance, it has to do with effort, critical thinking, and drive which, just like reading and writing, are not natural abilities, but must be learned and always honed and which are qualities exhibited by the English language learners discussed in last week's blogs.

We must stop coddling students (and all people for that matter). We must not be afraid to tell them when they are not cutting it. We must hold them to the higher standard that is at the heart of higher education.

And sometimes we must push them out of their apathy and away from their destructive behavior- and if that means telling them that their actions are “stupid,” so be it.

But, of course, proceed with caution.

Until next time,

Leena

Reflections on Education

To college students and educators,

What does it mean "to educate"? A couple of things I've recently read have caused me to ask this question. First of all, fellow-editor, Ryan, posted about the prevalent downfalls of freshman composition. As a composition instructor at a local community college, this matter particularly struck my interest. The other article relating to both parts of my current ponderings (that of what it means "to educate" and what a composition instructor should strive to do) is from The Chronicle, is written by Kurt Schick, and can be found at http://chronicle.com/article/Citation-Obsession-Get-Over/129575/.

I certainly agree with Ryan's point that many professors focus on form and not content. I also agree with Ryan's sentiment that this focus is detrimental to students who already possess writing and critical thinking skills and equally to those who do not. This type of instruction teaches students that there writing is not "correct" if not systematically or if not following a prescribed format. This format is often, of course, the five paragraph essay.

Schick's article, "Citation Obsession, Get Over It," deals with many professors' and writing centers' over-bearing focus on teaching the intricacies of citation formats such as that of the MLA. Schick says that students are being stifled when they are made to memorize such mundane information and that the focus should be instead on helping students to understand how to better integrate outside sources and information into their own writing and ideas. To further illustrate the context of the uselessness of MLA format documentation for undergraduate students, Schick argues, "Bibliographic citation has apparently eclipsed perfect grammar and the five-paragraph theme as the preoccupation of persnickety professors." Having worked for years at a writing center and for some time now as an instructor, I can attest to the truth of Schick's argument with one caveat that I'm pretty sure Ryan would agree with: citation formatting and the five-paragraph essay are both still "the preoccupation[s] of persnickety professors." And, I realize now, that both need to be thrown out the window of the ivory (and not-so-Ivory) towers of undergraduate education.

But, without them, how do we teach writing? Well, one of the concepts that may need to be embraced is that we can't "teach" much at all; what we can do is demonstrate and encourage. Many composition pedagogy writers have written about the importance of fostering an environment for learning and critical thinking. I can honestly say that I didn't really understand what that meant until a few days ago when reading my students' most recent batch of essays. They had gotten the form down- intro, three body paragraphs, and a conclusion. But, there was nothing there. I had spent far too much class time explaining formats and helping them with their generic outlines, and I had spent far too little time helping them to actually develop their ideas. Reading some of their essays was like eating a burger with no meat (not even a veggie patty), pardon the somewhat tired metaphor. The bun is nice and fluffy, the condiments are tasty, but without the meat, the questions remains, "why the hell am I eating this? Hell, why was it even made?" and when the only answer to these questions is something along the lines of "because I have to consume it because they had to make it," there is a problem. There is a problem because only a few years ago I got into this field because I wanted to do something where I could always be learning and thinking and because I wanted to encourage others to learn and to think too. When I as an instructor am only reading to grade and not with any interest in learning from what my students have to say (because, well, they didn't say much of anything) and my students are only writing to a bench mark, not for discovery or to really think about anything, what is the point of any of it? This is a question that extends to all fields of study, particularly at the college level, though I would like to think that it could be applied to any realm of education.

I'm not going to ask this rhetorically; I am just going to say it. In education, students should be encouraged to care about learning for the sake of learning and educators should feel the same. There should be excitement on both ends- there should be excitement to teach and to encourage students to think and there should be excitement in learning and thinking. Otherwise, what are any of us doing in these classrooms we spend so much of our lives in? If you're a student and you think of your time in that chair as just a means to make more money, well, there are better and, for you, more interesting ways. And if you're a professor and you think of your time in the classroom as simply your current means of making money, there are certainly more lucrative ways.

The fault for what we are, our means-to-an-end laziness, lies in the hands of the educators and the students. Professors and teachers would often like to blame it on the "damn kids;" this is to ignore the fact that the only difference between the two is a couple diplomas. We are all the same. We all fall into the trap of easy formats. It is, after all, easier to teach about MLA citation and how to write a five paragraph essay than it is to find effective ways to encourage critical thought. But, if teachers continue to teach in those easy unthinking ways, then students will continue to complete their work that same way and I will continue to be frustrated when they turn in essays that are so formulaic and unthinking that I don't want to read them.

To answer my original question, what does it mean "to educate." Well, oddly enough, dictionary.com actually has a decent answer: "to develop the faculties and powers of a person…" Let's keep that in mind the next time we are in a classroom, whether it be in a chair or at the front of the room. Let's not stifle or be stifled, let's not get caught up in what's expected, let's forget about formats for awhile. Let's remember that we are there to read, to question, to think, to write, to explore, and let's enjoy our time doing so- otherwise, let's go somewhere else.