Monday, February 27, 2012
Sunday, February 26, 2012
Another favorite poem
| War Photograph | ||
| by Kate Daniels | ||
A naked child is running along the path toward us, her arms stretched out, her mouth open, the world turned to trash behind her. She is running from the smoke and the soldiers, from the bodies of her mother and little sister thrown down into a ditch, from the blown-up bamboo hut from the melted pots and pans. And she is also running from the gods who have changed the sky to fire and puddled the earth with skin and blood. She is running--my god--to us, 10,000 miles away, reading the caption beneath her picture in a weekly magazine. All over the country we're feeling sorry for her and being appalled at the war being fought in the other world. She keeps on running, you know, after the shutter of the camera clicks. She's running to us. For how can she know, her feet beating a path on another continent? How can she know what we really are? From the distance, we look so terribly human. | ||
Hamlet, Act I, scene 2 - one of my favorites
O, that this
too too sullied flesh would melt
Thaw and resolve itself into a dew!
Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd
His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! God!
How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable,
Seem to me all the uses of this world!
Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis an unweeded garden,
That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature
Possess it merely. That it should come to this!
But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two:
So excellent a king; that was, to this,
Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother
That he might not beteem the winds of heaven
Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth!
Must I remember? why, she would hang on him,
As if increase of appetite had grown
By what it fed on: and yet, within a month--
Let me not think on't--Frailty, thy name is woman!--
A little month, or ere those shoes were old
With which she follow'd my poor father's body,
Like Niobe, all tears:--why she, even she--
O, God! a beast, that wants discourse of reason,
Would have mourn'd longer--married with my uncle,
My father's brother, but no more like my father
Than I to Hercules: within a month:
Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears
Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,
She married. O, most wicked speed, to post
With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!
It is not nor it cannot come to good:
But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue.
Thaw and resolve itself into a dew!
Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd
His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! God!
How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable,
Seem to me all the uses of this world!
Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis an unweeded garden,
That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature
Possess it merely. That it should come to this!
But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two:
So excellent a king; that was, to this,
Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother
That he might not beteem the winds of heaven
Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth!
Must I remember? why, she would hang on him,
As if increase of appetite had grown
By what it fed on: and yet, within a month--
Let me not think on't--Frailty, thy name is woman!--
A little month, or ere those shoes were old
With which she follow'd my poor father's body,
Like Niobe, all tears:--why she, even she--
O, God! a beast, that wants discourse of reason,
Would have mourn'd longer--married with my uncle,
My father's brother, but no more like my father
Than I to Hercules: within a month:
Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears
Had left the flushing in her galled eyes,
She married. O, most wicked speed, to post
With such dexterity to incestuous sheets!
It is not nor it cannot come to good:
But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue.
Rosenblatt's The Reader, the Text, and the Poem
As I was reading the first three chapters of Rosenblatt's The Reader, the Text, and the Poem, I had the idea that transactional theory was more about an emotional response by the reader to the text. However, Rosenblatt corrected my idea at the beginning of chapter 4: "Even as we are generating the work of art, we are reacting to it" (p.48). As we react emotionally to a text, we also recognize patterns and look for unity. I like the idea of "contextual ambiance" (p.85) that is created by various elements in the text and that affects the way we feel while reading a text. Recognizing literary or poetic devices is a way to name and organize the emotional responses we have to a text, and this practice does connect the cognitive to the affective (p.92-94).
Rosenblatt says that the "analyst is not reading the text in order to create a work of art; he is reading efferently in order to make a systematic classification of elements" (p.89). Do we sometimes train students to read that way? When we do, we take away the experience of encountering a work of art.
I have had trouble the past few years with teaching formal analysis while still recognizing the text as a work of art, as Rosenblatt says. I wrote last week about how in my teaching, I sometimes separated the readers' responses from the "more serious" analysis. Rosenblatt has made me think about how the recognition of various aspects of the text should grow out of the reader's response and the way the reader shapes the text and organizes the text through the reading process. Rather than a formal anlysis, it becomes a "heightened awareness" or "admiring recognition" (p.69).
I have thought much in my teaching and writing lives of writing as a craft, yet I have not thought much about reading as the same. I am interested in Rosenblatt's comparison of how the writer crafts the text to the "reader's own unique form of literary creativity" (p.50) as he or she puts the text together again through reading. I have not thought of reading as an act of creativity, but it absolutely does require imagination and crafting, just as writing does. Revision is also present in both activities, something else I have not thought much about (p.61). I don't think we talk with students much about revision in the reading process; does that give students the idea that they must have a "right" or "perfect" reading the first time through?
As I was reading about the components of aesthetic reading, I thought of some questions to ask students about their reading processes (as well as questions I could ask myself as a reader):
- Are you experiencing fulfillment or frustration of your expectations? (p.54)
- Have you read a text like this one before? How is this one similar or different? (p.57)
- What clues do you see in the text that are affecting the way you are reading it? (p.57)
- What memories, present preoccupations, sense of values, and aspirations of your own are entering into relationship with the text? (p.81)
**This question is a good reminder of how much experience, personal and literary, that we all bring to texts (p.86).
- How is the author directing your attention? (p.86) (not to be confused with author's intention from chapter 6)
Two of my favorites snippets from Rosenblatt:
"We are living in the world of the work which we have created under guidance of the text and are entering into new potentialities of our own natures" (p.68).
"The reader feels himself in communication with another mind, another world" (p.86).
Rosenblatt says that the "analyst is not reading the text in order to create a work of art; he is reading efferently in order to make a systematic classification of elements" (p.89). Do we sometimes train students to read that way? When we do, we take away the experience of encountering a work of art.
I have had trouble the past few years with teaching formal analysis while still recognizing the text as a work of art, as Rosenblatt says. I wrote last week about how in my teaching, I sometimes separated the readers' responses from the "more serious" analysis. Rosenblatt has made me think about how the recognition of various aspects of the text should grow out of the reader's response and the way the reader shapes the text and organizes the text through the reading process. Rather than a formal anlysis, it becomes a "heightened awareness" or "admiring recognition" (p.69).
I have thought much in my teaching and writing lives of writing as a craft, yet I have not thought much about reading as the same. I am interested in Rosenblatt's comparison of how the writer crafts the text to the "reader's own unique form of literary creativity" (p.50) as he or she puts the text together again through reading. I have not thought of reading as an act of creativity, but it absolutely does require imagination and crafting, just as writing does. Revision is also present in both activities, something else I have not thought much about (p.61). I don't think we talk with students much about revision in the reading process; does that give students the idea that they must have a "right" or "perfect" reading the first time through?
As I was reading about the components of aesthetic reading, I thought of some questions to ask students about their reading processes (as well as questions I could ask myself as a reader):
- Are you experiencing fulfillment or frustration of your expectations? (p.54)
- Have you read a text like this one before? How is this one similar or different? (p.57)
- What clues do you see in the text that are affecting the way you are reading it? (p.57)
- What memories, present preoccupations, sense of values, and aspirations of your own are entering into relationship with the text? (p.81)
**This question is a good reminder of how much experience, personal and literary, that we all bring to texts (p.86).
- How is the author directing your attention? (p.86) (not to be confused with author's intention from chapter 6)
Two of my favorites snippets from Rosenblatt:
"We are living in the world of the work which we have created under guidance of the text and are entering into new potentialities of our own natures" (p.68).
"The reader feels himself in communication with another mind, another world" (p.86).
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Louise Rosenblatt's The Reader, The Text, The Poem (Ch. 1-3)
I am always looking for reasons to teach literature; I believe that reading and responding to literature is a valuable part of education (both formal and informal), but I am still formulating my ideas about the purposes for reading. Rosenblatt gives one excellent reason or purpose: "The boundary between inner and outer world breaks down and the literary work of art, as so often remarked, leads us into a new world" (p.21). First, literature is an art. A few weeks ago I was talking with classmates about the idea that "English" may be a misnomer for the subject we teach. Instead, we should probably call our subject "Language Arts" since we engage in much more than the English language. Rosenblatt speaks of "the arts of language" (p.xiii). I think the way we approach the teaching of English would be different, more flexible, if we thought of it as the arts of language. Second, literature is both individual and social. It seems that often we forget the social aspect of reading, the social aspect of creating meaning from the text. I like that Rosenblatt looks at literature as communication; it is an event rather than an object (p.12). That would also change the way we teach--if a text is not a fixed object, then the reader has an active role in the event and in the communication. Finally, literature leads us into a new world. That is my favorite part of reading and teaching. The way we see the world can expand and change; we can learn more about ourselves and others. As Rosenblatt says, "the human element cannot be abstracted out" (p.41).
I think, though, that sometimes we do just that in school. We make kids read efferently when they want to read aesthetically. We "push the richly infused cognitive-affective matrix into the fringes of consciousness" (p.40). How do we not separate the emotional response from the "message" of the text? I am afraid I have done just that in my teaching--there's the reader response and then the "more serious" study of the literature. How do we fuse those two together? I also like her take on studying literary devices and formal traits as elements of the text that make the literary experience more "complex, nuanced, or intense" (p.34). If we look at stylistic devices through this lens, then there is a purpose to studying formal traits of literature, one that combines the affective and cognitive.
The idea of the invisible reader struck me. When we place the text as more valuable than the reader, what does that do to students? How often do students feel invisible in their reading experiences in school? I have been concerned about students' declining interest in reading in secondary school, and perhaps feeling like they are separate from the text and often irrelevant to the study is literature are reasons for that decline.
I think, though, that sometimes we do just that in school. We make kids read efferently when they want to read aesthetically. We "push the richly infused cognitive-affective matrix into the fringes of consciousness" (p.40). How do we not separate the emotional response from the "message" of the text? I am afraid I have done just that in my teaching--there's the reader response and then the "more serious" study of the literature. How do we fuse those two together? I also like her take on studying literary devices and formal traits as elements of the text that make the literary experience more "complex, nuanced, or intense" (p.34). If we look at stylistic devices through this lens, then there is a purpose to studying formal traits of literature, one that combines the affective and cognitive.
The idea of the invisible reader struck me. When we place the text as more valuable than the reader, what does that do to students? How often do students feel invisible in their reading experiences in school? I have been concerned about students' declining interest in reading in secondary school, and perhaps feeling like they are separate from the text and often irrelevant to the study is literature are reasons for that decline.
Monday, February 13, 2012
What Really Happens in the ELA CLassroom
After reading Leila Christenbury's Retracing the Journey and the articles for this week's class, I have bee thinking about the differences between what people (teachers, students, administrators, policy makers, etc.) think should happen in the ELA classroom and what actually occurs. Franzak's article "On the Margins" discusses the discrepancies between inscribed policies and the policies-in-action as well as the teacher-created phantom policies. Policy is enacted through people, so different ideologies and beliefs affect the way that the policy becomes realized in the classroom. The teacher is a kind of filter between the policy itself and the students and classroom practice. Teachers can sometimes even take on subversive roles as they refuse to comply with certain policies. These teacher reactions can be both good and bad: teachers can use their experience and knowledge of good teaching practices to integrate policies in ways that are most beneficial to the students; on the other hand, teachers sometimes do not know about district policies and may feel resistant without knowing how to implement a policy. Also, as Franzak has shown, sometimes the phantom policies trump the inscribed policies when they do not actually benefit the students. I saw similar phantom policies in my school, especially concerning the reading of "required" texts and the way that literature should be taught. The school also had phantom policies about the type of work that should be required at each level of academic tracking. These policies came from tradition and influential teachers' beliefs rather than from actual policies or any sort of research.
The teaching of reading is interesting to me because I have seen the attitudes (including my own) of English teachers who say that that they don't know how to teach reading. So we end up teaching texts rather than reading skills and strategies, which ends up being less beneficial for students. It is true that not a lot of actual reading goes on in secondary ELA classes because teachers may have different priorities based on those phantom policies (such as cultural knowledge, the value of the canon, etc.)
I'm also interested in students' identities as readers, especially how policy and school practices can put certain identities on kids (like "struggling reader" or "honors student"). How can we, though, give students what they need (additional help with reading skills) without giving them a certain identity?
"What We Know About ELA Teachers" by Scherff and Hahs-Vaughn also discusses the "mismatch" between teachers' expectations and the realities of the classroom. The university is a place of collaboration and support, while the workplace in a high school may not be. The university stresses "constructivist" approaches (Newell, Tallman, and Letcher), but colleagues in an English department may have different approaches and beliefs. Scherff and Hahs-Vaughn argue for preparing new teachers for the reality of the school, but how large a dose of reality should we give? We do not want to scare undergrads away from the profession, and I think a complete picture of teaching might do just that.
The application of activity theory to the early career of a teacher is interesting because new teachers are involved in so many, and often conflicting, contexts and settings. I felt like the context of the school and department started "taking over," and I had to purposely seek out professional development and communities of teachers to encourage the type of teaching that I believed to be best for kids (but that was different from what my colleagues believed to be best). It became a struggle for me to balance the competing contexts.
The teaching of reading is interesting to me because I have seen the attitudes (including my own) of English teachers who say that that they don't know how to teach reading. So we end up teaching texts rather than reading skills and strategies, which ends up being less beneficial for students. It is true that not a lot of actual reading goes on in secondary ELA classes because teachers may have different priorities based on those phantom policies (such as cultural knowledge, the value of the canon, etc.)
I'm also interested in students' identities as readers, especially how policy and school practices can put certain identities on kids (like "struggling reader" or "honors student"). How can we, though, give students what they need (additional help with reading skills) without giving them a certain identity?
"What We Know About ELA Teachers" by Scherff and Hahs-Vaughn also discusses the "mismatch" between teachers' expectations and the realities of the classroom. The university is a place of collaboration and support, while the workplace in a high school may not be. The university stresses "constructivist" approaches (Newell, Tallman, and Letcher), but colleagues in an English department may have different approaches and beliefs. Scherff and Hahs-Vaughn argue for preparing new teachers for the reality of the school, but how large a dose of reality should we give? We do not want to scare undergrads away from the profession, and I think a complete picture of teaching might do just that.
The application of activity theory to the early career of a teacher is interesting because new teachers are involved in so many, and often conflicting, contexts and settings. I felt like the context of the school and department started "taking over," and I had to purposely seek out professional development and communities of teachers to encourage the type of teaching that I believed to be best for kids (but that was different from what my colleagues believed to be best). It became a struggle for me to balance the competing contexts.
Monday, February 6, 2012
Tradition and Reform in the Teaching of English (Part 2)
As I was reading the second half of Arthur Applebee's Tradition and Reform in the Teaching of English, I was again struck by the fact that the tensions and issues we (English teachers) think about and grapple with today are the same issues that spurred debate in the 1920s. One of those tensions is between different types of preparation for students. Do we prepare students for life or for college? Is it possible to prepare students for both at once? Should students have to decide between the two?
That brings me to another debate...ability tracking. I was surprised to read that individual differences were considered in schools and pedagogy during the 1920s and 1930s. In the school district where I worked the past six years, "differentiated instruction" were buzz words used in nearly every faculty meeting and teacher in-service. Applebee states that ability grouping was one way that schools tried to differentiate (p.91). He explains that "teachers thought it would be easier to provide individualized instruction if their classes were homogeneous" (p.91). I completely understand that mentality; when a teacher has 30-35 students at a time for only 50 minutes a day, it can seem overwhelming to differentiate instruction, especially when the students are so vastly different. I do sympathize with wanting a way to make it easier. However, I also know what happens when students are tracked according to ability, and Applebee acknowledges the situation when he describes the simplification of texts and methods for the "lower" tracks (p.161) and more "creative" and "out of the ordinary" approaches for the "talented students" (p.191). Shouldn't all students receive the very best of what schools have to offer? I have found that tracking stems from and creates deficit thinking that is harmful to both students and teachers.
Applebee mentioned an outcome of the Basic Issues conferences (1958) that I had not thought about before: the methods used for the "best" students should be used for all students but should be modified or adapted for the "lower" students. Applebee raises an interesting point, though: "When it came time to modify the curriculum for the less able...it would take radical reform rather than simple modification to produce a viable structure" (194). Do the same methods and courses of study not work for all students? Why would "lower" tracks of students need a completely different curriculum?
The high school / college debate has been ongoing since the universities felt that the Progressive movement lacked "intellectual rigor and historical perspective" (p.185). Should high schools base their methods, texts, and courses on college English classes or require certain assignments because "the colleges require it" (p.131)? I know I often used that very phrase in explaining to my students why we were doing certain assignments. Does high school need to be like college? High schools serve all students whereas colleges are selective about whom they admit. High schools serve teenagers while colleges consist of young adults. I'm not sure that high schools should always look to college as the model. The tension between focusing on the subject matter and focusing on the child also seems to play out here: historically, high schools have focused more on the child while colleges have kept the subject matter central. Another interesting tension is between the English departments and the Colleges of Education. In the backlash against Progressivism in the 1940s and 1950s, English departments began influencing high school teaching methods and texts (such as the New Critics and Great Books).
I'm still thinking about the role of analysis in the study of literature. Must we conduct a close study of the language of a piece before we can appreciate it? I actually love analyzing texts, pulling apart the language to see how each piece affects the whole. I used to have a poster in my classroom that said "The purpose of analysis is not to destroy beauty but to identify its sources." But now I am wondering if students need to analyze literature. Does it benefit them, or is it something we do because "the colleges require it"? Or because the AP exam requires it, which is about the same thing.
I am very interested in using students' interests to drive curriculum and in making education more about authentic experiences than about learning isolated skills or facts. The "life adjustment" movement (p.144) focused on problems in students' lives, and the "human relations" movement focused on social problems and action projects (p.148), which almost sound a bit like Freire's culture circles. Both of these movements were criticized because they are not systematic and cannot be standardized. If the curriculum comes from the interests of the individual students in that particular place and time, then that type of teaching and learning cannot fit with an efficiency model. And that is most likely why we don't see anything like that in schools today. Bruner also called for a discovery approach to learning (p.195), but how can we "do" English? If children learn physics by doing the kinds of things a physicist does, then how do children learn English? By reading and writing? This is one of my big questions: How can we apply a discovery approach to English, and how can we use students' interests in a way that works?
That brings me to another debate...ability tracking. I was surprised to read that individual differences were considered in schools and pedagogy during the 1920s and 1930s. In the school district where I worked the past six years, "differentiated instruction" were buzz words used in nearly every faculty meeting and teacher in-service. Applebee states that ability grouping was one way that schools tried to differentiate (p.91). He explains that "teachers thought it would be easier to provide individualized instruction if their classes were homogeneous" (p.91). I completely understand that mentality; when a teacher has 30-35 students at a time for only 50 minutes a day, it can seem overwhelming to differentiate instruction, especially when the students are so vastly different. I do sympathize with wanting a way to make it easier. However, I also know what happens when students are tracked according to ability, and Applebee acknowledges the situation when he describes the simplification of texts and methods for the "lower" tracks (p.161) and more "creative" and "out of the ordinary" approaches for the "talented students" (p.191). Shouldn't all students receive the very best of what schools have to offer? I have found that tracking stems from and creates deficit thinking that is harmful to both students and teachers.
Applebee mentioned an outcome of the Basic Issues conferences (1958) that I had not thought about before: the methods used for the "best" students should be used for all students but should be modified or adapted for the "lower" students. Applebee raises an interesting point, though: "When it came time to modify the curriculum for the less able...it would take radical reform rather than simple modification to produce a viable structure" (194). Do the same methods and courses of study not work for all students? Why would "lower" tracks of students need a completely different curriculum?
The high school / college debate has been ongoing since the universities felt that the Progressive movement lacked "intellectual rigor and historical perspective" (p.185). Should high schools base their methods, texts, and courses on college English classes or require certain assignments because "the colleges require it" (p.131)? I know I often used that very phrase in explaining to my students why we were doing certain assignments. Does high school need to be like college? High schools serve all students whereas colleges are selective about whom they admit. High schools serve teenagers while colleges consist of young adults. I'm not sure that high schools should always look to college as the model. The tension between focusing on the subject matter and focusing on the child also seems to play out here: historically, high schools have focused more on the child while colleges have kept the subject matter central. Another interesting tension is between the English departments and the Colleges of Education. In the backlash against Progressivism in the 1940s and 1950s, English departments began influencing high school teaching methods and texts (such as the New Critics and Great Books).
I'm still thinking about the role of analysis in the study of literature. Must we conduct a close study of the language of a piece before we can appreciate it? I actually love analyzing texts, pulling apart the language to see how each piece affects the whole. I used to have a poster in my classroom that said "The purpose of analysis is not to destroy beauty but to identify its sources." But now I am wondering if students need to analyze literature. Does it benefit them, or is it something we do because "the colleges require it"? Or because the AP exam requires it, which is about the same thing.
I am very interested in using students' interests to drive curriculum and in making education more about authentic experiences than about learning isolated skills or facts. The "life adjustment" movement (p.144) focused on problems in students' lives, and the "human relations" movement focused on social problems and action projects (p.148), which almost sound a bit like Freire's culture circles. Both of these movements were criticized because they are not systematic and cannot be standardized. If the curriculum comes from the interests of the individual students in that particular place and time, then that type of teaching and learning cannot fit with an efficiency model. And that is most likely why we don't see anything like that in schools today. Bruner also called for a discovery approach to learning (p.195), but how can we "do" English? If children learn physics by doing the kinds of things a physicist does, then how do children learn English? By reading and writing? This is one of my big questions: How can we apply a discovery approach to English, and how can we use students' interests in a way that works?
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