teaching

Teacher at Point Blank: Confronting Sexuality, Violence, and Secrets in a Suburban School

alicia — Thu, 17 Feb 2011 20:00:00 +0000

When Jo Scott-Coe began teaching in the same suburban California high school she’d graduated from four years earlier, she had to overcome her reluctance to call former teachers by their first names. Once that was accomplished, she set out to bring new life to the literature and writing classes she was assigned.

In seventeen essays Scott-Coe lays bare the disappointments and frustrations that marred her eleven years in the classroom. While the book is highly anecdotal—and cannot be read as a general indictment of the educational system--she does hit several general themes, including the way educators—eighty percent of them female—are mistreated by Boards of Education, parents, and students.

To begin, Scott-Coe notes society’s “schizophrenia of reverence and contempt” for teachers. On one hand, she explains, teachers are presumed to be “angels,” long-suffering nurturers and enablers of youth. On the other, they’re treated with contempt, disparaged as overpaid civil servants or lazy paper pushers. The real issues they face—in terms of educational policy, pedagogical proficiency, and their own personal and professional development—never see the light of day in these discussions.

Nowhere is this clearer than in an essay called "Recovering Teacher." In it, Scott-Coe painstakingly chronicles the decline, and then death, of her colleague Neil Webb. A scholar who began his career as a Latin and German instructor, Webb was arbitrarily reassigned to another discipline once the district gutted language programs in the late 1980s. Scott-Coe posits the shift as the administration’s way of emphasizing “the interchangeable nature of subject matter while also disrespecting his primary expertise.” Whatever the bureaucracy’s motivation, the end result was the same: Webb had no choice but to accept the transfer if he wanted to retain his job.

Still, after the shift ,Webb’s peers and students noticed his discernible decline: He lost weight and, always a heavy drinker, began coming to school drunk. When his driver’s license was suspended, they snickered, sidestepping conversations that might have addressed his out-of-control behavior. When he was finally terminated, people breathed a sign of relief, as if his firing was inevitable.

Somewhat later, his home burned down; not long afterwards he was found dead, alone in a seedy motel room. “I still wonder what might have happened if the school staff, as a community, had confronted Webb,” Scott-Coe writes. “We might have seen him as a struggling human being instead of scapegoating him as the problem employee, the exotic and tortured genius who would never fit in, or the pathetic colleague who made us feel less bad about our own problems.“

It’s a painful, if moving account.

Scott-Coe also writes of sexual tension in the classroom, and of the violent undercurrent noted by most of the teachers she worked with. That she and her colleagues had no forum to discuss these issues is absurd. Even more ridiculous, when legitimate questions were aired, administrators served up meaningless platitudes in lieu of practical advice. On top of this, Scott-Coe had to contend with preparing her students for a multitude of constantly-changing standardized tests and had to counsel them—with little-to-no prior training—for personal problems, from eating disorders, to cutting, to domestic abuse.

Small wonder that Teacher at Point Blank is angst-filled. A deeply personal and sad narrative, Scott-Coe lambastes the enormous commitment that is expected of teachers. It then begs the question: How can their stature be elevated while preparing them to cope more effectively with complex classroom and bureaucratic issues?

Written by: Eleanor J. Bader, February 17th 2011

Wise Teacher, Wise Student: Tibetan Approaches to a Healthy Relationship

admin — Mon, 09 Aug 2010 22:00:00 +0000

By Alexander Berzin

Snow Lion Publications

Wise Teacher, Wise Student by Alexander Berzin explores the intricate and complex relationship between Western students and Eastern teachers. This particular type of relationship has its own unique set of challenges due to language barriers, cultural divides, and occasionally conflicting expectations. Berzin focuses on bridging the gap between the two worlds by exploring the student-teacher relationship through the Tibetan Buddhist outlook and its implications for Western students.

The text explores the basics of Tibetan Buddhism, including what a typical spiritual seeker in traditional Tibet would look like. I appreciated that Berzin provided information about the influence on Chinese occupation of Tibet as a means of bringing Tibetan Buddhism to the West. While this occupation is indeed tragic, it has provided the vehicle for Western students to learn about and participate in spiritual rituals and practice. I found this to be an important piece of information for understanding why this particular type of relationship needed special exploration in the first place. According to Berzin, Western spiritual seekers are very different from their Eastern counterparts. Tibetan seekers usually start their spiritual journey and education at a very young age, while most Western students begin their study as adults, after receiving a formal education, and expecting equality and full knowledge of each and every step of the spiritual journey.

After exploring these differences, Berzin touched on foundational concepts and ideas such as the Four Noble Truths and the Eight Fold Path, rectified terms, including the differences and misconceptions surrounding the terms guru and lama; and laid out basic requirements for a seeker and teacher. While this was only the first of three sections of the book, this one definitely feel the heaviest and most time consuming due to the sheer volume of information it contained. The other two sections explored the dynamics of a healthy relationship with a spiritual teacher, and unhealthy relationship behaviors such as fear, overdependence, and even rebellion. These two I found much more interesting, although somewhat dry.

The section that struck me most was on the importance of establishing a relationship based on respect. Part of establishing a healthy relationship with a mentor is focusing on that mentor’s good qualities and strengths. This is not to say that the student should ignore the bad qualities or shortcomings of their mentor, but that they should mediate and focus their energy on the positive attributes. By dwelling on the negative aspects and things one doesn’t like about their teacher, a student can potentially miss out on the lessons and parts that are positive. I found this to be a great overall piece of advice for engaging in any sort of relationship, be it with a spiritual teacher, a friend, family member, or partner. Many times relationships, of any kind, can be trying and difficult, but if you can focus on the things you appreciate about the person, you’ll be much more willing or in a place to engage in a respectful and healthy manner. Any relationship based on respect, on behalf of both parties engaged, has the greatest chance at being healthy and fruitful for all involved.

On a whole, I found the book to be very overwhelming. There was a lot of important information packed into relatively small sections. At times, it assumed the reader had a slightly greater than basic understanding of Buddhist concepts and practices, but at others, found space to break down actual terms into digestible nuggets of information. Due to this strange assumption about the knowledge base of the reader, I had a difficult time figuring out who the target audience for such a book would be. While I understand the desire to appeal to and be useful to a wider audience, I found it difficult to navigate some of the information. I found it most appropriate for a class at a Dharma center, or an intermediate course on Buddhism.

Written by: Liz Martin, August 9th 2010

Freedom’s Teacher: The Life of Septima Clark

admin — Tue, 26 Jan 2010 01:00:00 +0000

By Katherine Mellen Charron

University of North Carolina Press

When Septima Clark began teaching in 1919, she quickly learned that good education is very much like community organizing. Both start by identifying pressing needs, involve the affected in formulating solutions, and give them a stake in the final outcome. Freedom's Teacher tells Clark’s story, and while the writing is drily academic, the book is an important reminder that each of us can make a dent in the status quo.

Clark was a teacher’s teacher, a skilled motivator and a driven, hard-working, proponent of human equality and the power of the classroom to encourage and provoke social change. Her personal life was not easy—her husband died young and she was forced to send her son to live with his paternal grandparents—but her ability to shift gears and accept new opportunities, even in late middle age, is inspiring.

Born to working class parents, her first job was on Johns Island, a tiny underdeveloped farm community off the coast of South Carolina. Clark did not go to the island by choice. In fact, the position was the only placement she could find since her native city, Charleston, refused to hire African Americans to teach in the city’s segregated schools. Johns Island, populated by largely illiterate Black farmers, challenged the fledgling educator whose would-be students lived in such intense poverty that they had to work in the fields instead of attending classes.

But what to do? Clark understood that getting islanders to allow their children to study would be difficult so she began going door to door, speaking about the benefits of formal coursework. “At every turn, Charron writes, “success mandated creativity.” It also mandated that Clark get involved in people’s everyday lives, not only learning Gullah, but also helping them write letters, fill out forms, and determine crop prices and proper wages. What’s more, free evening literacy classes for adults—taught by Clark—gave residents the tools to expand their options. Decades later, Clark brought this experience to the civil rights movement, crafting adult literacy classes to activate and empower those who attended.

The few years Clark spent on Johns Island radicalized her, and Charron describes Clark’s increased agitation over the miserable conditions her students had to contend with, including a decrepit, unheated school building, inadequate supplies, and non-existent text books. Protests against racial disparities set her on a course that would last six-plus decades. Furthermore, her quest for justice prompted her to get involved in numerous civic and civil rights groups including the Highlander Folk School, the YWCA, and the Southern Christian Leadership Conference’s Citizenship Education Program [CEP].

Women formed the crux of the CEP, teaching unschooled southerners how to pass literacy tests so that they could vote and then discussing everything from racist laws to activist strategies for changing them. Clark was the force behind much of the CEP’s work, toiling behind the scenes but receiving few accolades for her intrepid work.

Unfazed, Clark never lost sight of the big picture, continually condemning government spending on war and the concomitant failure to provide adequate funds “to end joblessness, slum conditions, and to correct educational deprivation in the ghettos.” Similarly, she never lost her faith in movements for world betterment and her cautious optimism—which lasted until her death in 1987—was infectious.

Clark’s example reminds us that change is never linear or free of backlash. While she picked her battles, Clark knew the importance of nonviolent resistance. As she saw it, watching from the sidelines was never an option.

Written by: Eleanor J. Bader, January 25th 2010

The Children in Room E4: American Education on Trial

admin — Sat, 08 Aug 2009 17:17:00 +0000

By Susan Eaton

Algonquin Books

No regular news consumer could avoid being informed of the failings of the educational system in the U.S. Every medium, new and old, is filled with the details of this country’s abysmal international rankings, the breakdown of school discipline, the costs of teaching to the test, the soaring dropout rate and the dearth of funding that leads school systems to abandon arts programs and other educational necessities. What is often left unexamined is one of the primary causes of many of these problems: de facto segregation by race and class. The Children in Room E4 intersperses intimate tales of one teacher’s valiant attempts to educate her students in the dysfunctional Hartford, Connecticut school system with the details of that community’s decline and the Sheff case waged against the system’s damaging segregation of its students.

Eaton’s examinations of the development of de facto segregation due to de-urbanization, economic decline, white flight to the suburbs and racism in the real estate market are carefully researched and well written. However, I would have preferred to see at least some mention of the impact of the government’s so-called war on drugs, which has been disproportionately waged in communities like Hartford. The absence of discussion on how racist and classist drug policies have destabilized poor and minority communities is, perhaps, the only major flaw in the book.

Whether in the courtroom or the classroom or the neighborhood, the book’s “characters” are presented as living, complex human beings, not caricatures in a morality play. The only two-sided characters seem to be those who appear in the opposition: the politicians, lawyers and “experts” who defend the segregated system and stall progress through inaction and incompetence. However, the opposition is given fair though not necessarily positive treatment.

The chapters concerning the denizens of Room E4 and the Hartford school system in general are particularly well-done. The overwhelming burden born by teachers like “Ms. Luddy,” who must cope with the disproportionate weight of students’ personal problems as well as educational politics, constantly changing curricula and poor funding, is revealed in excruciating and infuriating detail. Its impact on the developing minds of Hartford’s children is evident and seemingly inevitable. The circumstances can produce no other result, it seems, than the wholesale theft of opportunity from Hartford’s poor African American and Hispanic students. In our desire to maintain sanity in an unjust world, it’s easy to avoid wrestling with material like The Children in Room E4 and the problems they reveal. Don’t.

Written by: Melinda Barton, August 8th 2009

The Music Teacher

admin — Tue, 21 Jul 2009 23:21:00 +0000

By Barbara Hall

Algonquin Books

The Music Teacher is a story of failure. It is the story of what could have been, but wasn’t—because of neglect, because of abuse, or for the simple reason that not everyone succeeds. Most people fail.

Protagonist Pearl Swain is one of these failures. Swain was a gifted violinist, but her father hated (and feared) her passion for music so strongly that he burned her violin in a backyard fire. Now Swain is a violin teacher rather than a professional musician, an occupation which she views as a failure. Her marriage is also a failure, having recently ended with her professor husband impregnating another woman and leaving her.

Now, Swain’s life revolves completely around the music store where she gives her lessons, and the staff there, with whom she socializes and debates favorite music and artists a la High Fidelity. Her romantic prospects are limited to the men at the shop. Her life as a music teacher changes when an orphan named Hallie comes in for lessons. Swain identifies with Hallie, who is gifted but lacks the support system necessary for success. While Swain is enamored of the girl’s talent, she discovers that Hallie’s personal problems are far more dangerous than she suspected. But is it already too late? Is Swain already involved enough in Hallie’s life to be harmed?

Hallie acts as the catalyst for many of Pearl’s realizations, about the process through which talent becomes achievement, about parents and family, about her own childhood, and her marriage. Although bitter, Swain is ultimately likeable. The book stands out because of its exploration of failure and its unique juxtapositional setting. (Swain lives in a trailer park in Los Angeles, the city of stardom.)

Unfortunately, neither the writing nor the story is remarkable enough to stay in a reader’s head for long, unless he or she is particularly interested in the career of a professional musician.

Written by: Elizabeth F.A. Meaney, July 21st 2009