Teaching Reading to Black Adolescent Males

Sorry, guys, I thought I posted this, but I think I wanted to add something, so I waited and saved it. Ironically, I don't remember what it is I wanted to add. Oh well, here it is anyway:

While I sometimes wonder about the cultural symbol of black males that Tatum describes in this book, I am so grateful that attention is finally being given to a group that has so often historically been ignored in our schools. Likewise, I am appreciative of Tatum for bringing the misunderstandings teachers have of black adolescent males to the forefront of everyone's minds. Like others, I saw how this could also relate to many students in our urban schools. I have often heard teachers say certain students don't want to learn, and like Tatum, I find that students, once they assume that the teacher does not care whether they learn, then they are less likely to make an effort. Likewise, there are several studies about students' self perception which confirm this idea that once students view themselves as "non-achievers" or "nonexistant", it is a difficult path back to confidence. Thus, students "wear the mask" that Tatum describes on p. 34. In order to remove this mask, I think we, as teachers, need to celebrate the successes of students more often and show them that their strengths and life experiences are valued and can be used to improve their reading and writing skills.

Finally, I was a bit confused by the reading strategies Tatum discusses in the second half of the book. In particular, the "spelling scaffold for dictation" figure on page 99 was a bit disturbing. I don't think I would ever use this in my class. But, I do agree that teachers, in any case, need to begin to choose texts that their students can relate to if they want to give reading purpose. These texts aren't often found in schools, so as a teacher I began to seek them out on my own. Last summer, I read Fist, Stick, Knife, Gun by Geoffrey Canada, and immediately had a feeling my students would find purpose in it. We ordered a bunch of copies at the beginning of the year, and later, I have never seen so many of my students want to read and discuss the ideas in the text. This allowed me a sneek peek into what can be possible, and the reading of Tatum's book reminded me of its importance.

Beers

I first read When Kids... as part of our English Department book study during my first year of teaching. I remember distinctly using it as a handbook of sorts, so I appreciated being forced to find the time this week to actually read it cover-to-cover. Plus, it was an interesting experience to re-read parts five years later, in a completely different mental state. I think one thing I like about Beers' writing is that she also reflects on her own learning process as a teacher. Just as we talk about reading as being a process, so is teaching. When talking with collegues, we often hear about the "good" or "bad" teachers, but really Beers shows the insight that can happen if we reflect on our observations, listen to our students, and delve into how to teach rather than just what to teach.

While reading, I had yet another realization of how much I miss teaching in my classroom. Reading through the strategies, such as Say Something, Sketch to Stretch, Anticipation Guides, and Probable Passage, reminds me of the exciting days of working with students. However, at the time I wonder if I even understood what I was doing. I just remember feeling that there was no way we could simply read aloud everyday and answer questions. If I found that boring, my students would find it ten times worse! So, yes, there were angelic voices singing in my head when I first read this book.

Now when I read, my mind shifts to my student teachers. I have been in many classrooms lately where the "class discussion" is very similar to what Beers describes on p.50-52. I loved the inclusion of the teacher's reflection, "It wasn't a discussion. It was me asking questions and the kids responding. Why would I want to do it that way?" She continues by admitting that it was perhaps due to her own ways of being taught. I think this is true in many cases. My student teachers are facilitating the discussion the way they know how. And often, trying something new and unfamiliar can be difficult.

Yet, like Beers, I've been trying to encourage self-reflection. Last week upon group work sort of "bombing", one student teacher said, "I guess group work just doesn't work." As I tried to hide my shock and horror at his statement, I replied, "Wait. Back up. We need to talk about why it didn't work in this instance and what we can do next time." So, although I appreciate Beers' book for having provided me with so many strategies at the time, I now understand how much having people around me who pushed my own traditional thinking made a difference in how I taught my class. Likewise, it has reminded me of the great importance of reflecting on your teaching and encouraging others to do the same.

Push

I struggle with where to begin to convey my response to Push. I, like Audra, seemed to be traveling the continuum of aesthetic and efferent reading. But I found that whenever I began to think about my own role as a teacher, my emotions inevitably pulled me back to Precious. Now that I reflect, the differences between reading this book and the mostly efferent readings of graduate school seem to jump out at me. For one, in Push, I never seemed to look at what page number I was on, or how many pages I had left to go. I just read. Secondly, my mind seemed to escape into moments of thinking of my own student whose name is Precious, thinking of another student who had a baby at 13 after a rape, thinking of how and why a world could be so cruel, and thinking of the resilience and perserverence it takes to live a life like Precious' and how anger and pain manifests itself in the classroom. I thought and built connections, but never once did this break my concentration of what I was reading. Instead, it appeared to all be happening at once.

Yet, I wonder: How would this experience have been different if I knew I was going to be tested on my reading? It's almost like school can, at times, put shackles on our minds rather than freeing them to think and travel down their own path.

My Rosenblatt Rollercoaster

Okay, guys, am I the only one that couldn't seem to "get into" this book in the beginning? I mean, it wasn't until the "Openness and Constraint" chapter that I finally seemed to be experiencing the text in a positive way. I find the idea of reading as a transaction, or an event, extremely interesting, but for some reason while I was reading Rosenblatt's words, my eyes seemed to get heavy, and then I started daydreaming about other things, until finally I would realize that I was not even reading the words on the page anymore. So, I would have to go back and start again to where I assumed that my break in attention elapsed. Since I'm reading a book about reading, I feel the need to use what I'm reading to reflect on why I couldn't focus on what I was reading and what made the difference around p. 71.

Granted I know Rosenblatt is talking mostly about poetry and predominantly aesthetic texts here, but I appreciated her refusal to take an either/or stance by putting efferent and aesthetic reading on a continuum. I feel that I actually travelled back and forth on this continuum during the journey of several readings of Rosenblatt. Her inclusion of excerpts of poetry almost forces my mind to switch gears into more of the aesthetic end, and then travels back towards efferent when I begin to read again for pedagogical insight.

Rosenblatt describes the event of reading on p.14 as, "A specific reader and a specific text at a specific time and place: change any of these, and there occurs a different circuit, a different event." I really like this idea. I know many friends (and I have probably done it myself) who put the blame on the text - "It's just not a good book" - instead of thinking about all of the variables that come into play while reading. On the other hand, I find students sometimes put the blame on themselves instead - "I just don't get it." I like the transactional theory because when I think about it, reading IS an event, a unique moment in time of certain understanding and connections. So, it's not Rosenblatt's fault or my own that I couldn't really get into the first 50 or so pages, but now that I think about it, I did start reading the fifth chapter on a different day, at a different time, with more experiences and different thoughts on my mind.

Finally, I also appreciated Rosenblatt's courage to address the counterarguments of Hirsch and the New Critics. Viewing reading as simply a task of interpreting the author's intentions not only promotes an elitist way of looking at literature, but also disregards its relevance to our lives. The transactional theory seems to empower readers, allowing everyone the opportunity for self-discovery. Rosenblatt's suggestion to "consider the text as an even more general medium of communication among readers," perhaps even allows for more possibilities of a piece of text. In fact, this is how reading exists in many aspects of life - the Oprah book club, blogging, etc. - for some reason, it just doesn't happen as much as it should in schools. I have to think about why this is for a bit longer and reflect on another post. Does it still have to do with power?