Yes, I realize it's been well over a month since my last post. That last post, the one about bulls in the main square of Meynes, said nothing about my sudden disappearance from blogging and from social media for that matter and I've been asked, "Where did you go? What's going on?"
First, I want to say thank you for even asking. The fact that enough people read this blog to care means a lot to me.
This last month, I've been mostly offline traveling and spending time with family. We arrived back in Salta Friday, began a new education project yesterday. I haven't talked much about this project because so many details are up in the air, but soon I'll have something more definitive to say. For now, I can tell you that it was fantastic to be back in the classroom. The students we have are amazing, and I'm really excited for the future of our program.
Tomorrow I leave for Burning Man. You can check out an article I wrote for Craig and Linda of Indietravelpodcast on ten steps to prepare yourself for this amazing event. They'll be publishing a Burning Man packing list in the next few days as well.
I'll be away two weeks, the longest I've ever been away from Lila, and I am feeling apprehensive about it.
In the meantime, I'm still writing and editing at Matador Life where Nick Rowlands and Candice Walsh have been keeping things running at times I'm offline. And I'm working with Simon from Neverending Voyage to rework this blog. I began The Future Is Red over three years ago and much has changed since then. I'd like what I post here to better reflect our new home in Salta and the new work we'll be doing here.
It's been overwhelmingly busy, and I often remind myself of my Five Rules of Banishing Chaos. Mostly of the second step.
It will all eventually get done.
But it's also made me realize, I can't do everything. I'm going to have to make choices. And while we now seem to have a sense of stability we haven't had since we left New York, I feel like now is a time of amazing change.
The following paragraph resonated particularly strongly with me on many levels.
Our kid's brains are ravenous for content that will lend itself to analysis, and yet we're sticking them into a world that is so limited they are reduced to examining hairstyles and hook-ups instead of more challenging fare. Instead of analyzing culture, politics or world affairs on a daily basis, they're prognosticating about prom dates. They zero in on the fit of their jeans rather than on the fit of a cultural identity within a larger population,and they devote hours to enhancing the clarity of their skin instead of the clarity of their thinking. They are digging into a plate of pettiness because that is precisely what we've served them. They deserve -- and are ready for -- so much more.
It struck me when I read this that the image of the typical obnoxious teen who lives only to text her friends and meet at the mall is something we take for granted. We assume it is the case, because that is what we see around us. In fact, it is entirely possible we amplify that image because we expect it.
But it is not a given.
Following on that little piece of food for thought, I want to share with you a recent TED talk by Sir Ken Robinson about education. In it he calls for the complete revolution of our international education system, now based on a "fast food module." By that, he refers to the standardization and structuring of most systems of education that overlook the needs of the individual.
It starts with the pressure we feel as parents to make sure our children place well into pre-school and goes from there.
That pressure is one of the reasons I wanted to leave New York City. I couldn't see putting LIla through interviews, essays and evaluation play dates, all for the pleasure of paying $20K for a 2-year-old to go to school. It is too painful.
We take for granted that our model is one we must adhere to because it is what we know, and while that model has served us well in many aspects, we must still continue to evaluate and re-evaluate. It's on us as parents, educators and students to identify that which is no longer working and prune the excess.
The pain we experience while pushing our toddlers into pre-school and again when encouraging them to take AP courses and to ace the SAT is a sign something isn't quite right. Embracing a new system is never easy, though. It is another form of letting go.
A recent article detailing how a California school banned
the dictionary because a student looked up the term oral sex, reminds me of a
similarly anti-educational incident from my teaching days.
I was running poetry workshops at Booker T Washington middle
school through CCNY’s Poetry Outreach Centerwhich paired graduate students
with a classes in the New York City public school system. I worked with Ms
Wertheimer’s 8th grade class for four years.
Once a month, I came in with poetry and literature,
everything ranging from Shakespeare and Kafka to Outkast’s Ms Jackson -- oooh, I
am for real -- and we read, discussed and wrote our own poetry.
The students in these classes were in what was called The
Olympia program. Which meant, not quite special education behavioral problems,
but not quite expected to truly succeed either. Among quotes I heard directly
from teachers and administrators mouths.
“Don’t teach these kids Shakespeare. They won’t understand.” I did anyway.
"Some of these kids have real potential, it’s a shame most
of them will end up working at McDonalds.”
And my personal favorite,
"Why do you want to work extra hours with him? He doesn’t know how to read.”
Few things, though, left me more in slack-jawed-awe than one
dictionary related incident and a school program director who, I swear, was the drop dead doppelganger of South Park's guidance counselor, Mr. Mackie. You know, the one with the too
tight bow-tie?
I prepared a magnetic poetry-like exercise for the class
by printing hundreds of sentences from all different novels and poems onto paper, cut them out into individual
words then asked each student to choose ten words to be used in a poem or set
of poems.
The only rule: Use every word.
Some were easy words and connection words. Cat. And. The.
Hat.
Others I didn’t expect students to know. Ambidextrous.
Chthonic. Ineluctable modality of being.
We didn’t have enough dictionaries in the classroom. Those
we had were tattered, pages missing and were for far younger students than
populated the class. We weren’t able to find the more difficult words I chose.
When I asked the program director for more, particularly
more advanced ones, ones better suited to the age group in the classroom, he
said the following to me with no irony in all seriousness.
“I would,” he replied. “But my concern is this exercise
isn’t appropriate for these students, because many don’t know how to use a
dictionary.”
Really? I mean. Really?
Usually, I kept a professional distance and attitude from
the administrators I met in the New York City school system. This time, I
admit, I was not so polite in response.
What's the problem here?
My students at Booker T Washington showed a level of creativity I didn't see in the students I taught at a nearby private university, a place where students had far more privilege and freedom than those at Booker T. I suspect living beyond any expectation also frees you of the constraints to produce what society expects.
Standing on the other side of the row of desks has its on frustrations. The nature of dealing with administration stifles any creativity on the part of the teachers. You teach to the No Child Left Behind tests. You struggle with principals who care more about walls decorated with pretty things to impress bosses than whether or not 8th grade students can read.
I also quickly realized after teaching in other middle and high schools in NYC that Booker T Washington isn't the worst. They have more resources, dedicated teachers. They are in an area of town that is relatively safe. In four years, I never once lost a student to a beating or to child welfare. Yes, I saw students carrying sandwich bags with crack vials. Yes, I had students with family in prison. One thirteen year old disappeared from class after a couple days when his girlfriend had a baby. Another tore the classroom apart whenever his mother had a new boyfriend.
It is not the worst.
How does one learn in that environment? What does one learn?
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