Becoming Teacher Researchers
By Jodene Morrell
One of my go-to-quotes when writing grant proposals, conference proposals, or for academic journals is by Dr. Magdalene Lampert (1985) who stated there is a belief that,
“The teacher’s work is to find out what researchers and policy makers say
should be done with or to students and then do it” (p. 191).
I used to scan my syllabi and check the publication dates on readings to ensure the content would feel current and relevant to my students. I no longer do that. After 20 years as an educator from K to MA, I recognize that we continue to hash out the same arguments, push back on policies that reduce our teaching to teacher guides, pacing guides, and high-stakes tests, and use all our energy and talents to meet the complex interests and needs of our students. The date on the publication starts to feel less relevant. We strive to teach the whole child while seeking balance in our own lives. Our hearts hurt for students and families that just can't seem to get a break and we celebrate moments when students succeed - in whatever way we define success together. And we do not put the researchers' and policy makers' agendas ahead of our own... unless we are the researchers and in that case, it's quite a different conversation.
I'm looking at my calendar for the rest of the academic year and my university is more than half way through the semester which already has me thinking about end of year interviews with each of the LTI Teacher Fellows. It's one of our annual rituals. We meet in their classroom, in my office - where ever is most convenient. And we reflect on the year - what went well, what they wished they could have done differently, plans for next year, what it means to be a researcher. I transcribe their responses off my digital recorder, store the files in the Cloud, and reflect. Each year I am astounded by how their discourse around teacher-research has evolved, their insights into action research, and what this means for teacher learning and student growth, and what it means to be part of a community. Mostly, I reflect on our relationships and the organic growth of our community of practice.
We are building and shaping and reshaping and tweaking our community which is something no researcher or policy maker could have possibly imagined. We do not tell one another what to do. We listen. We suggest. We laugh. We eat. We drink. We support. We are growing together as researchers and as educators. There is no formula. There is no teacher guide. It's a bit of fixing the plane in the air - but there is no high stakes test at the end and we're not competing with one another.
We will be wrapping up our fourth year as a project at the end of this spring. We have eight Fellows actively engaged in research at this time and a total of fourteen active members and alumni. Four of us are heading to the International Reading Association Conference in July, so we'll turn our attention to that soon enough. Our Fellows take time off from research, maternity leave, time to work on tenure and other life events because we know we are in this for the long run. We have no end date. Fellows are free to come and go without judgment.
The LTI Project is a community that no policy maker or researcher could have imagined. It is organic and it is all about relationships and support. That is how teachers from nine different schools and two states become researchers, colleagues, and friends. This is what it means to become researchers with the LTI Project.
Tuesday, March 17, 2015
Monday, March 2, 2015
Black History Every Day
By Christina Chaise
As February comes to an end, I question what
the implications are of ending the chapters and conversations around Black
history and the inclusion of the Black Lives Matter movement in classroom
dialogue. Will the conversation stop? Will business carry on as usual? Will
classrooms—both urban and suburban—cease to celebrate the accomplishments of
Black Americans because March has begun?
It must not.
It is not new news that there is a dearth in
histories of people of color represented in social studies/history curricula in
US schools. Although Howard Zinn (2005) had been able to bring these histories
together as a counter-narrative to the Eurocentric history we had been taught
in our classrooms, not many children, especially those from marginalized
communities, are exposed to this knowledge. This knowledge is not usually found
until one finds themselves in a university—a place to which many people do not
have access. Most children never get to know the histories/herstories of their
people and communities. Knowing how powerful and liberating such an education would
be for black and brown youth, why then, has there been no movement to diversify
the narratives within history classrooms?
Blame is always put on different peoples and
institution; it’s the fault of NCLB, Race to the Top, Common Core, policy
makers, politicians, administration, teachers, parents, etc.—or so the story
goes. I argue that we all play a role in shaping and maintaining many of the
oppressive forces within the education establishment, including the absence of
recognizing the historical contributions of people of color—some people more
than others, of course. In this framework exists the assumption that the
system, school, and classroom are not set up to be liberating spaces, but
rather, oppressive spaces to ensure the stratification and reproduction of an
unequal society. Whether actors and institutions are conscious of this is up in
the air. For social justice-oriented teachers, this is obviously not the
objective of why we started to teach. And for those trying to fight the binds
of policies and administration to bring about a more radical curriculum with
critical pedagogy, burn out is inevitable. Unless
we remember that we are not alone. All educators are at different places
and spaces in developing our pedagogy and exploring different modes of teaching
and learning history/social studies, and finding a community that is on a
similar trajectory helps us figure this out organically. Luckily, there are
quite a few communities in existence organized around this, including the
Literacy Teachers Initiative at the Institute for Urban and Minority Education.
But back to the issue at hand. Espousing
Eurocentric history curriculum may not be intentional (and even worse if it is
intentional), and can be a difficult act to modify if it has been commonplace.
Indeed, absence of alternative curriculum is a normalized aspect of the US
schooling system, integral to maintaining the larger economic system as is, but
we’ll leave this critique for another time. Yet, this should not be a deterrent
for incorporating different content that can transform the classroom,
particularly content that can re-humanize
a space that has been historically dehumanizing, especially for black and brown
students.
What if you’re not too confident in your
knowledge of the content? Or perhaps you’re still cultivating your pedagogy.
Maybe talking about race instills the fear of God within you. Like I said,
we’re all at different stages, and that’s okay. What’s most important here is
that you are making the commitment to teach your students a history through a
social justice lens—a history that can transform lives. Race talk, or
‘difficult dialogue’, is too often avoided rather then explored, which is a
representation of larger phenomena related to forces of privilege and
oppression. However, make no mistake; not
talking about race and issues around race is oppressive. (I highly suggest
the work of Dr. Derald Wing Sue of Teachers College, Columbia University to
further explore this notion. You can find one of his articles here: https://depts.washington.edu/anthweb/resources/diverse_pdfs/diversity_microagressions_11.pdf. For an even
deeper theoretical analysis of symbolic violence in omitting race dialogues,
please see an article by Dr. Zeus Leonardo of UC Berkely: http://vocserve.berkeley.edu/faculty/ZLeonardo/PedagogyofFear.pdf).
Discussions around race, both in present and
historical contexts, are necessary for the development of a powerful capacity
for social analysis within our urban youth. It should be embedded in American
history lessons because, simply put, race plays a major role in American
history; without it, we are missing an important piece to the puzzle. What’s
most unfortunate is that this missing piece is the space where history meets
biography for students of color. It is the space where we can see how our
histories have been shaped in order to be better informed on how to shape our
own futures and that of our communities. This history is not simply about our
oppression, but about our struggle to fight for our own liberation, about the
battles we’ve won and about the people who paved the way for us. I would bet
money (something I never do since well, #graduateschoollife #thestruggleisreal)
that if a history class had such content that enabled students of color to see
themselves and their communities through an additive lens—In contrast to a
deficit lens—the culture of the classroom would drastically change.
Once again, however, the content can be
transformative, but without critical pedagogy, the message will be lost. There
is a plethora of research on critical pedagogy and all its different branches,
yet I want to focus on one that I find is most easily digestible but equally
effective: reality pedagogy. Developed by Dr. Chris Emdin (2011), reality
pedagogy is centered on bringing in the experiences and sociocultural understandings
of students into the classroom. Rather than summarizing the core aspects of his
theory, I’d rather let him explain it to you himself:
<iframe width="560"
height="315"
src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/2Y9tVf_8fqo"
frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>
A cheat sheet of the 5 C’s he discusses can be found here: http://cech.uc.edu/content/dam/cech/centers/hope/docs/RealityPedagogyCincinnatiHandout.pdf
Reality pedagogy can be powerful tool in
normalizing the inclusion of American Black history (as well as Latin@ and
Asian history) by connecting the present realities of our youth with the
histories of their communities. The marriage of history and biography is what
C. Wright Mills called, the sociological imagination—a way of looking at the
world, I argue, through the lens of political consciousness. This lens, as Mills
(1959) writes, “enables its possessor to understand the larger historical scene
in terms of its meaning for the inner life and the external career of a variety
of individuals… The first fruit of this imagination… is the idea that the
individual can understand his own experience and gauge his own fate only by
locating himself within his period, that he can know his own chances in life
only by becoming aware of those of all individuals in his circumstances… The
sociological imagination enables us to grasp history and biography and the
relations between the two in society... Back of its use there is always the
urge to know the social and historical meaning of the individual in society and
in the period in which he has his quality and being.” (p. 5)
Not only does this tool of social analysis
allow students to understand the larger structures that have shaped their
histories and present realities, but it gives them the knowledge and
empowerment to address these structures too.
I would like to note, that although the above
statements were written with urban populations in mind, it is necessary that
radical education and race talk be a part of white, suburban, and/or
middle-class classrooms, too. As much as we need to work on combating the
internalization and reproduction of oppression, we must also turn our heads to
the spaces and places where privilege is also internalized and reproduced. Both
processes must be disrupted. As a result of these disruptions and
interjections, the understanding of white hegemony, which necessitates a
dichotomization of white American history and black American history, can be
fostered within students to help them liberate themselves from its effects. In
the hands of these students—our students—lies the political possibility that
history classrooms may one day include all stories and realities because we
will be the teachers and students to make that change.
Celebrating black history should happen every
day, in every classroom.
Please see below for a few resources and
articles, as well as online communities to join to further educate ourselves
and find colleagues to support each other. If you have any links that relate,
feel free to share as well!
Online
Communities and Resources (including children’s books and syllabus suggestions):
http://www.nycore.org/#sthash.nSPyv4nN.dpbs
https://docs.google.com/a/tc.columbia.edu/document/d/1kwZl23Q9tgZ23dxSJWS-WpjZhOZ_mzVPtWL8-pWuLt8/edit#
Articles:
Emdin, C. (2011) Moving Beyond the Boat without
a Paddle
http://nctear2013.ehe.osu.edu/files/2013/01/emdin-2011-reality-pedagogy-black-youth-urban-science-ed2.pdf
Engaging Young Children in Activities and Conversations
about Race and Social Class
Lee, Ramsey, & Sweeney (2008)
Racial literacy in a second-grade classroom: Critical race
theory, whiteness studies, and literacy research
Rogers & Mosley (2006)
http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/store/10.1598/RRQ.41.4.3/asset/RRQ.41.4.3.pdf?v=1&t=i6mbnnp8&s=b121d3d0e623dd559eeff7521fd767483f14a0b9
Promoting Equity in Children’s Literacy Instruction: Using a
Critical Race Theory Framework to Examine Transitional Books
Hughes-Hasssell, Barkley, & Koehler (2009)
Transforming My Curriculum, Transforming My Classroom: Paulo
Freire, James Banks, and Social Justice in a Middle School Classroom
Hudalla (2005)
http://www.edchange.org/multicultural/papers/hudalla.pdf
About the author:
About the author:
Christina Marie Chaise is a graduate student at Teachers College,
Columbia University in the Sociology and Education Program under the Education
Policy and Social Analysis Department. Christina was a McNair Scholar at Hunter
College; she is also a graduate of the Borough of Manhattan Community College.
Her activism and community organizing experiences have shaped her research
interests, which include critical pedagogy and epistemology, ideology, and
identity development around race/ethnicity and class. Her current focus is on
studying spaces of both oppression and privilege to explore how the
reproduction and internalization of racist/classist ideas can be disrupted,
particularly in the classroom—from kindergarten to graduate school. She is
currently a teacher’s assistant for Dr. Ray McDermott in the Anthropology
Department and a project assistant at the Institute for Urban and Minority
Education. Christina has been with the LTI project since fall 2014.
Saturday, February 28, 2015
Guest Blogger: Jodene Morrell
Jodene Morrell is the Director of the Literacy Teachers Initiative (LTI) Project at Teachers College, Columbia University which is housed in the Institute for Urban and Minority Education (IUME), directed by Dr. Ernest Morrell. She is celebrating her 20th year in education and has worn many hats including: elementary teacher in San Francisco, San Jose, and Los Angeles, California; middle school literacy specialist in Lansing, Michigan; Associate Professor in Education at California State Polytechnic University, Pomona. She always enjoys a great book, road trips with her husband and sons, and working closely with amazing Teacher Fellows in the LTI Project.
Tuesday, January 27, 2015
“The Beat is Designed So I Can Enter Your Mind”: Youth Pop Cultural Texts in My Life as Student and Teacher
By Buster Nelson
A quote from a song by a Rock and Roll Hall of Fame hip-hop group gives this piece its title. I must have first heard it in 1988 when I was in sixth grade. The quote represents how the youth pop cultural songs, movies, and clothing fashions of my youth have affected my life-long learning. Today, regardless of whether you, or I, or anyone else disapproves or approves of the artists, songs, films, and movies mentioned above and below, the fact remains that they are influential. Whether that influence is positive or negative or somewhere in between, youth pop cultural texts are influential nonetheless. My question is . . . do we as educators want to be aware of such influences on our students and then engage the students in dialogue about those influential texts, or not? What are the costs of ignoring or dismissing such youth pop cultural text influences? If youth pop cultural texts are introducing controversial viewpoints into the awareness of students, are we doing the right thing in ignoring the controversy, or should we help students untangle and understand the complexities of the issues at hand? In the coming paragraphs of reflection on my own education, I will trace the influence of pop-cultural texts in my own life with the hope of spurring myself to examine the ways that today’s students might be affected by today’s pop-cultural texts.
A quote from a song by a Rock and Roll Hall of Fame hip-hop group gives this piece its title. I must have first heard it in 1988 when I was in sixth grade. The quote represents how the youth pop cultural songs, movies, and clothing fashions of my youth have affected my life-long learning. Today, regardless of whether you, or I, or anyone else disapproves or approves of the artists, songs, films, and movies mentioned above and below, the fact remains that they are influential. Whether that influence is positive or negative or somewhere in between, youth pop cultural texts are influential nonetheless. My question is . . . do we as educators want to be aware of such influences on our students and then engage the students in dialogue about those influential texts, or not? What are the costs of ignoring or dismissing such youth pop cultural text influences? If youth pop cultural texts are introducing controversial viewpoints into the awareness of students, are we doing the right thing in ignoring the controversy, or should we help students untangle and understand the complexities of the issues at hand? In the coming paragraphs of reflection on my own education, I will trace the influence of pop-cultural texts in my own life with the hope of spurring myself to examine the ways that today’s students might be affected by today’s pop-cultural texts.
To
make a long story short, my introduction through radio and video airplay to the
aforementioned hip-hop group’s music and its allusions to political figures
made me at least superficially aware of political controversy beyond what I was
learning in school. Another track by the group, which is critical of paramedic
response times in black communities, reached number 15 on the Billboard Hot
R&B/Hip-Hop Singles & Tracks chart, and number 1 on the Hot
Rap Singles chart
in 1990. Again,
people’s disapproval or approval of the song is not the point here. The point is that the song had a clear
message and that the message was circulating in youth pop cultural
consciousness when I was a middle-schooler.
Also reaching number one on the Biillboard Hot
Rap Singles and
number 20 on the Hot R&B Singles was another track by the same Hall of Fame group in 1989. The song channeled extra attention to a
realistic fiction film by Spike Lee that details racial tension ending in
violent tragedy. At the end of the film,
two contrasting quotes appear from Dr. Martin Luther King and Malcolm X about their
different philosophies of non-violence versus self-defense in struggles against
oppression. This movie led me to become
interested in the other films of Spike Lee, and Lee’s film, “Malcolm X”,
starring Denzel Washington, was released in 1992. Along with the release of the movie, clothing
such as t-shirts and ball caps branded with the letter “X” became popular youth
fashion around where I was living in Connecticut. I began wondering “What does the ‘X’ represent?”
This curiosity driven by my
experiences with youth popular culture between sixth and ninth grades, led to
my choice to read The Autobiography of
Malcolm X during one summer break. Yet, this book was not read as a
required part of my school’s curriculum.
My youth pop-cultural “curriculum” led me to read it. It was the start of my self-directed reading
of works by other authors of African American descent, study which has given me
much food for thought when considering educational issues. However, back in ’89 through ’92--a seminal
point of my adolescent intellectual curiosity--none of my teachers were aware
of what I was studying outside of class.
My teachers were not able to help me navigate the complex, controversial
issues raised by my exposure to the aforementioned youth pop cultural texts and
subsequent readings. How much more
motivated, informed, and prepared might I have been by my schooling had a
connection been made between my pop-cultural “syllabus” and my English class’s?
I am aware that many students today
may not have experiences similar to those of my youth, in which aspects of
youth popular culture intertwined with history and politics. However, how are the youth pop cultural texts
of today influencing the interests and potentially long-term intellectual
trajectories of our students? Due to my
own ignorance of today’s youth pop cultural texts (e.g. movies, videos, comics,
songs, and video games), how much of an opportunity to engage and to learn with
the leaders of tomorrow am I missing?
How much do we recognize the power of our youth‘s pop cultural
(con)texts? Are we doing the right thing?
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