Category Archives: rants

Lowbrow Literacy

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I’ve been struggling for some time, trying to come up with a more elegant way of presenting this argument. I don’t think I’ll be finding one anytime soon. In any case the revelations here are neither of the shocking nor groundbreaking variety so I’ll be taking a steadfast out-out-damned-spot, full-steam-ahead, approach:

Since really focusing on my professional practice, I’ve spent a disproportionate amount of my time thinking about literacy (access to, and change in, etc, etc). This post serves as a critical inspection of some of the literacy skills I’ve cultivated of late.

Specifically, I wanted to talk about (flaunt?) the lowbrow literacy skills I’ve been mastering.

A Disclaimer
Before really launching into a real description of what I mean, I need to address the concerns with the naming problem here. I am again at a loss as to the original text I encountered that explained the history between “lowbrow” and “highbrow.” However, a quick google confirms my understanding of the terms coming out of phrenology. As such, the history of “lowbrow” and those individuals with said lower brows is one of racial undertones. As the word is part of our common vernacular today emphasizes the miscegenated journey of the lowbrow/highbrow binary.

What is Lowbrow Literacy?
As much as I enjoy pretentious literature, art gallery soirees, and excursions to the the-a-tre (to be spoken in a thick, British accent – three syllables oh-so-necessary), I pride myself on the breadth of bottom-of-the-barrel cultural knowledge. Forget The Simpsons and forget secretly smart commentary from the likes of the Daily Show – that stuff’s for the birds. I’m referring to My Super Sweet 16, Justin Timblake, and American Idol. You know, rubbish. As much as I enjoy top-tier art, I frequently revel in the kinds drivel that make grandparents call the TV the “idiot box.” Comic Books. Entertainment Weekly. The Soup. Bad ‘80s Sex Comedies. Florida. VH1’s Top 50 Insufferably Unnecessary Lists of All Time. Like I said, not only do I subject myself to this stuff, but I love it. I study it, I read about it online, I stay awake thinking about it.

There was a time when I was a qualified music snob: I could identify what borough of New York an indie band hailed from, even though I had yet to actually visit the city. Similarly, I would casually ask about someone’s musical taste at a college party. After hearing a few artists, I could/would immediately judge and (more importantly) hold disdain for this person based solely on their taste. I am not proud of this cheap parlor trick (I kind of think of it now like tarot reading – but that’s another story for another day) – but it shows the kind of interwoven connections I’m partially trying to illustrate. On the other hand it also shows a major shortcoming of mine: I wasn’t willing to embrace the lowbrow at the time – I was afraid to publicize my adoration for Prince, Michael Jackson, Whitney Houston, radio friendly pop-punk, and the commercially besmirched failures of Robin Williams’ ‘90s catalog (see Toys & Jack as prime examples). To the shock of many close friends, I’ve come to publicly embrace and celebrate the aforementioned artists.

As such, the same way I’m able to traverse a conversation about Frankfurt School philosophical implications in classroom pedagogy, I’m similarly able to question Chef Gordon Ramsey’s attitude and Paula Abdul’s commenting faux pas and the general ripples such behaviors will cast on the web of network television. This too is a literacy; it’s just not one that’s especially appreciated or valued by the people that bother to write about or place value on things like literacy (and yes, I’m fully aware that I’m included in the elitist population).

Reality Television: A Case Study in L.L.
Maybe it’s best to briefly look at one case study of lowbrow literacy in action, a personal favorite of mine: reality television. I’m a sucker for it. From the Bravo channel’s ([only] slightly) more sophisticated stew of the now to the pure crockery of current iterations of the Real World to the rather bizarre incarnations in the outer regions of cable television (really, did anyone else see the elimination show for motivational speakers??), I’ve waded through it all. Not only am I wading through it, but I am confident that other reality TV junkies like myself are able to enjoy these shows even more because we are more acclimated to the reality TV grammar that has been prescribed for these shows. It’s worth looking at the first season of the Real World (and yes, I was hooked from day one – confused that Beavis and Butthead had been ousted from its 4 p.m. time slot) – the show didn’t know what it was doing. The drama was missing. A single heated argument about race is the only real highlight most viewers can recall. Similarly, look at the casts of these early seasons – many “characters” are simply not in a bunch of episodes – it was too real. Take the doctor in the San Francisco season – she was busy being a doctor and didn’t have time for this MTV crap. On the same season we also get our quintessential reality TV rabble-rouser: Puck – the kind of house villain that nearly every show has attempted to replicate (on an interesting side note, I think the Shakespearean connection in Puck’s name was both an intentional inclusion for the show and something that was lost on most viewers).

You’ll see similar growth in shows like Survivor and Big Brother (thought he fact that the house in Big Brother was constantly being monitored online detracted from the general storyline’s pacing). Ultimately, through understanding this television grammer, we’ve gotten some elegant by products. A personal favorite, for example, would be the Joe Schmo show. A meta-reality show in which everything is staged by professional actors except for one of the game’s contestants. A brilliant and underappreciated work, the Joe Schmo Show reads (yes, “reads”) like a Reality Television 101 course and is required viewing (reading) for anyone looking to appreciate the genre/medium.

What’s the Point?
And while I realize much of this description comes as jest and lighthearted endorsement of musical rubbish and televised pap, I do believe there are real implications in analyzing this kind of literacy. For one, this is precisely the kind of literacy skill that is typically mined in the culturally relevant curriculum wars being waged in LAUSD in the name of “equity.” I’ve stated before that I don’t think our school system’s been getting this right and that the approach is all wrong. However, if we’re not able to read and participate in the literacy practices that our students are fluent in, it seems unlikely that they’ll be willing to compromise in valuing an esoteric literacy practice like engaging with a 5 paragraph essay. Similarly, there’s real value in recognizing the conventions of lowbrow sub-genres: looking back on the middle portion of this rant reminds me about how I’ll be able to play with reality TV grammatical pacing in structuring the tension and dynamics of the Black Cloud game.

At the same time, folks like Henry Jenkins place a tremendous amount of value on things like “mash ups” and “participatory media.” Daye and I had a brief conversation about her distaste for all things mash-up. I think I’ll tip that iceberg at a later date.

Bombed

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As I walked Sadie around the block today I saw a couple of kids tagging on the various houses and apartment complexes in my neighborhood. The two were working their way toward my direction and Sadie was working her way toward theirs. The two would indiscriminately stop every couple of houses, marking the territory the same way that Sadie does. (For those more scatologically minded of you out there, it is worth noting the connection between these two kids crossing out other graffiti and Sadie preferring to urinate over the various pieces of dog feces she encounters.)

Though I have not documented the process on this blog, I have been working on a graffiti curriculum to teach to my students in May. The project is being created in conjunction with Mark, a middle school social studies teacher and will be made publicly available after being taught and revised. As such, I have more than a passing interest in graffiti at the moment. Part of the aim of this project is to help empower students with the skills to look critically at graffiti and the varied possibilities it can represent. The marginalized voice and forms of activist expression that can be entrenched in legal and illegal graffiti seems tossed to the public wayside by the focus on gang graffiti.

So here I am, walking my dog around the block as two kids (around the same age as my students, if not younger) continue to tag, unfazed by my presence.

As for the graffiti? It was the kind of gang demarcation that is prevalent. Thank you for letting me know you are from a gang that is 20 blocks south of my street. This is your block. Point taken.

This should have been my teachable moment. I could have engaged these kids in dialogue, asked them for advice, or censured them. I did nothing. My brain was locked up trying to grasp the situation – “catching” kids tag at school feels different. There is an implied sense of authority and students understand and recognize that. That was lost on my block today. The kids walked by and continued their work as I continued mine, Sadie slow and meandering as always.

I felt hypocritical, at the moment and I still do. There’s a likely chance engaging the kids in dialogue would have resulted in them running away or being ignored; I didn’t feel like I was in physical danger, though that’s never my first thought anyways. The problem is I don’t know and I allowed the moment to pass. I was the bystander that I teach my students about in our unit on resistance and civil disobedience. Yes, this frustrates me to no end.

The 101s

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I’m thinking about what’s missing in our current high school course offerings (hint: a lot). I’m brainstorming the classes I feel are most urgently needed by my current students. I want to use this as an exercise to see what I can fold or further adapt in my own classroom, within my SLC, and what can eventually be pushed forward into new class structures. This may be a recurring exercise I’ll return to – we’ll see.

Classes that should be required:
– Feelings 101: expression, empathy, and dealing with grief

This is related to the large immigrant student tropes I’ve been attempting to document.

– Social Media 101: Blogging, online networks, and RSS

I recently wrote about the fact that most of these sites are blocked by our district. I’m not accepting the comments as a proper response. These are the skills imperative to being successful in our 2.0 environment. I’ve been recently following the work of Henry Jenkins, and the participation gap hits the nail on the head. I have more to say on this… just not yet.

– Humanism

I’ll return to this one as the Beyond Pedagogy discussions continue – I want to outline a realistic framework

– Interaction 101: Consensus, Mediation and Resolution

Perhaps the follow-up course to Feelings 101? (I know a few adults that could use a refresher in this course as well)

– Urban Art & Critical Response: Graffiti, Print Media, fashion, and music

 Yes, this is something I’m actively working on and presenting about.

– History of My Suppressed Voice: a personal inquiry; independent studies class

I think this sounds pretty clear, don’t you?

What are the current required classes? Along with the regular academic stuff we’ve got “a class called “Life Skills.” I can’t say what happens in this class with any certainty, but aren’t all of the above “Life Skills”?

Rapping about Cultural Irrelevancy

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If I had a dollar for every time I was handed a book on how to teach or incorporate hip-hop in my classroom – at least looking at my bookshelf – I’d have seven dollars. And I realize that seven texts around creating culturally relevant curricula through the use of hip-hop isn’t all that excessive, but lately it’s had me thinking.

First, I’ll provide a bit of seemingly frivolous back-story: I grew up immersed in music. I listened broadly and made pointed personal connections in the myriad genres that now fill the cluttered CD shelves throughout my abode. I listened to hip-hop, Appalachian folk, and 20th century classical indiscriminately. I feel that, like many other teachers, I “get” hip-hop (though a case could be made that it cannot be “gotten”).

The problem isn’t hip-hop. The problem is that there is an unspoken assumption that hip-hop is the answer (the unspoken problem thus being how to get students engaged). Before student teaching, I’d been immersed in the tropes of the feel good teacher films. I still watch them if only because the formula is so pristine in its execution and pacing from one film to another: Stand and Deliver, Dangerous Minds, Freedom Writers, Sister Act 2 (you didn’t know that was a teacher movie??), Half Nelson, etc. Watching enough of these I knew that to be a good teacher in an urban high school meant playing socially conscious hip-hop and watching the “urban-ness” of the surroundings melt away from the angels that my students have become. Many of the books I’ve looked through appear to offer this kind of quick fix solution. Hip-hop, as a result has become a veritable panacea to our literacy problem. Hallelujah!

The only problem is that it’s not. Hip-hop isn’t the solution. I question how many teachers are grabbing their IMA funded Tupac CD and playing a single song and feeling like they’ve connected for the day. How many hip-hop fans have brought in that sole Mos Def CD or Dead Prez album (you know which one I’m talking about), and felt like they were authentically culturally responsive?

The vast majority of my students today do not listen to hip-hop. Have no interest in it. If I were not paying close attention, I wouldn’t know the differences between reggaeton and hip-hop. Even if I did, it wouldn’t be the solution either.

Ultimately, this isn’t a diatribe for or against hip-hop. It’s a long-winded attempt to point to the fact that what our schools (and the texts that our district and our BTSA induction programs provide) are claiming as culturally responsive is limited, debilitating in vision. We can’t give people the direct tools for this kind of curriculum in the classroom; we don’t know a given teacher’s students or those students’ experiences. What can be changed is how to provide teachers with an understanding of recognizing the cultural and community experiences that need to be reflected upon and utilized within a class. There are some great texts around this issue, but most of the ones I’ve been given are of the play-this-Nas-track-and-read-Prufrock variety.

The hip-hop as panacea trend is an extension of the kinds of caged-in institutionalized practice that traps students into class structures. Cultural responsiveness should be an innate part of one’s teaching practice. It cannot be scripted, it cannot be found by reading up on the latest teen trends online and it definitely cannot be found in the appendix of the latest instructional book you’ve just been handed.

Building Consensus and the Democratic Experiment

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I was sent a link to the Word for Word podcast by my colleague/nemesis, Mark last week. While driving down to San Diego, I listened through the 50 minute lecture and Q&A by Parker Palmer. Framing a discussion of consensus and “messiness” around a parable of the Quakers, Palmer, illustrates some of the major problems with the overly bureaucratic urban school. Is there anyone to stand in the “tragic gap” that is splitting and antagonizing the climate of cynicism within our schools? Not in any consistent way, at least.

And in answer to Mark’s original question: yes, Palmer’s speech, and the book’s we’ve been reading have markedly similar themes. Perhaps we’re placating the wave of burn-out too idealistically by referencing these as the texts to propel us further. On the other hand, I’ve been leafing through the latest AERA journal and found some hopeful pages. Will discuss this further in the next post or two.

Related, this study, referenced in Palmer’s discussion sounds promising. Added to the exponentially expanding “to read” pile; I’ll do some digging sooner or later.

Haphazard Beyond Pedagogy Explanation #3

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To be as concise as possible, one of my biggest challenges in regards to educational reform is the language and method of discourse. Namely, our method of discourse has become diluted by words of half-meanings. We have locked ourselves into a standstill because of our over reliance on certain concepts and terminologies.

That being said, Beyond Pedagogy is a reading group comprised of educators and those with a vested interest in the field of education. We will not be reading standard education texts. We’re reading broadly but we’re reading purposefully. We’re discussing education but on other fields’ terms.

We’re inviting you to read these texts too. Where can such a “revolutionary ‘exodus’” take us? Let’s find out.

Beyond Pedagogy Meeting Dates (Updated 5/11)

2/28 – Fragments of an Anarchist Anthropology by David Graeber
3/20 – Spell of the Sensuous by David Abram
4/17 – Blank Slate by Steven Pinker -MEETING CANCELED – WILL RESCHEDULE ON 5/8
5/8 – Inventing Kindergarten by Norman Brosterman
6/5 – Thought Reform and the Psychology of Totalism by Jay Lifton
6/19 – Operating Manual For Spaceship Earth by Buckminster Fuller

7/3 –  Blank Slate by Steven Pinker -Meeting Rescheduled from 4/17

8/28 – Dialectics of Seeing by Susan Buck-Morse

9/4 – Beyond Pedagogy Debriefing

The meetings are all scheduled to run from 5-7 p.m. at the Mentor LA Offices located at 1035 S. Grand Ave., 2nd Floor Los Angeles, CA 90015. Please park in the lot on the corner of Grand and 11th.

All are welcome!

Alternate explanation found here and here.

Thanks to Fritz Haeg and the “Planet of the Humans” book club for the inspiration to form this group.

“The Shifting Hegemony of Now this, Now that Science or Art”: Haphazard Beyond Pedagogy Explanation #2

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The Glass Bead Game imagines a futuristic society that is somehow governed by a game whose instructions are never made explicit. However, the basic premise of the game is made clear. Connections are drawn between various themes. They are conducted and organized by the Magister Ludi. They are the innate fabric that contends to hold the society together.

On the other hand, in today’s less than futuristic society, we are a specialized people. I studied English therefore I did not study biology (unless I double-majored, but I definitely did not study Architecture). You studied Political Science therefore you did not study Film Criticism. We’re not programmed to connect themes across the varied fields of academia. And where does that place the role of the educator: I teach English therefore I will not teach (or know) the other fields (unless there is social studies teacher that is willing to team teach).

“Beyond Pedagogy” is a prototyped attempt at donning the role of Magister Ludi – to borrow the title from Hermann Hesse’s novel The Glass Bead Game – and draw the needed connections amongst myriad fields of study to broaden the scope of education dialogue. It is an extensive and unrelenting look at “why” with unwavering to return more than statistics as formulated response.

Beyond Pedagogy Meeting Dates
3/20 – Spell of the Sensuous by David Abram
4/17 – Blank Slate by Steven Pinker
5/8 – Inventing Kindergarten by Norman Brosterman
6/5 – Thought Reform and the Psychology of Totalism by Jay Lifton
6/19 – Operating Manual For Spaceship Earth by Buckminster Fuller
7/?? – Dialectics of Seeing by Susan Buck-Morse

The meetings are all scheduled to run from 5-7 p.m. at the Mentor LA Offices located at 1035 S. Grand Ave., 2nd Floor Los Angeles, CA 90015. Please park in the lot on the corner of Grand and 11th.

All are welcome!

Alternate explanation found here.

Splashing Through the Effervescence of (Imaginary?) Change: Haphazard Beyond Pedagogy Explanation #1

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You are late.

You are running to your car and you are late.

You are late for that presentation that you have been preparing for.

You are splashing through a puddle and the puddle has a rock.

You trip on the unseen rock in the puddle that you are splashing through. Maybe it was an imaginary rock (it probably wasn’t).

Your index cards are all a jumble. That could be a real problem, couldn’t it? The whole purpose is now enfolded upon itself. An accordion with no wind.

Things are out of order. There is no order. You stumble across Pt. 2 of a sandbox that explains the purpose of the sandbox that begins in Pt. 1. But the sandbox is imaginary. You find mention of All Time Educational Buzz Word #1. ATEBW#1 makes you suspicious – this is not my beautiful house!

You’re wary because ATEBW#1 is duplicitous. It and the other ATEBW#1 contenders (“social justice” “culturally relevant” “reform” “standardized” “benchmarks” “engagement” & “authenticity” for instance) are the kinds of words that are fixing us in place. We’re not able to grow from here and you’re the only one who knows this. You’re very sharp, after all. A presentation. A presentation is what’s needed.

You were going to change the world! You made index cards, dammit! Why can’t anyone fix the goddamn potholes in this city anyway?

We need to fix these puddle gaps. We need to fix these puddle gaps because a hole in one’s logic and a hole in the street are just as faulty. Is one any more real than the other? Is there any other way to fill a (w)hole than to supplicate it with the real? How would your request be addressed? A supplication of asphalt? A supplication of new knowledge?

We’ve got the shovels. Let’s fill in some holes. No more puddle splashing and splayed index cards.

Invite a friend. Bring a hard hat (best to also tell your friend to bring a hard hat). It’s time to landfill:

Beyond Pedagogy Meeting Dates
3/20 – Spell of the Sensuous by David Abram
4/17 – Blank Slate by Steven Pinker
5/8 – Inventing Kindergarten by Norman Brosterman
6/5 – Thought Reform and the Psychology of Totalism by Jay Lifton
6/19 – Operating Manual For Spaceship Earth by Buckminster Fuller
7/?? – Dialectics of Seeing by Susan Buck-Morse

The meetings are all scheduled to run from 5-7 p.m. at the Mentor LA Offices located at 1035 S. Grand Ave., 2nd Floor Los Angeles, CA 90015. Please park in the lot on the corner of Grand and 11th.

All are welcome!

What is the language of reform?

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This is another entry that is cross posted at the ISCA blog. I’ve made a tag to make this clear.

I recently read Sustainable Leadership by Andy Hargreaves and Dean Fink. Though generally enunciating the types of leadership changes needed the our schools, the book brought up something that’s been bothering me of late in regards to educational reform; namely, the borrowed metaphors that continually cloud the discussion of reform. Even looking at the title of the book the type of language that Hargreaves utilizes should be obvious (psst…. it is environmental!).

Throughout the book, discussions of reform revolve around the use of an environmental and a business model vernacular. Where is education’s own bag of language? What is going on here? Apparently, we’re stuck with misappropriated metaphors (and useless logerrhea describing the “environmental sustainability,” “entropy,” and “erosion” for those not in the bio-know).

The business jargon is of no surprise either: many of the “leadership” texts that you’ll notice our administration citing or utilizing as data are business texts. Sustainable Leadership is no exception (though I do agree with the general thrust of the book). Presently, visitors at Manual Arts (predominantly parents) are asked to take a Customer Service Survey. Subsequently our school promotes the high marks on our Customer Service Report. Does anyone else feel strange to think of our parents as customers? I realize we can look at our school as a business but what does this do to notions of profit? Notions of competition? Personally, I wouldn’t feel comfortable working under this model as my primary frame of mind as an educator.

Related to this, how did a chapter titled “Diversity” turn into detailed minutiae about business networks?

Instead of wanting to learn why our educational reform model in the U.S. is “like a machine,” how to erase our “ecological footprint,” or even how to “Develop a ‘hacker ethic,’” it feels like it’s time to stop appropriating the language and metaphors of other sectors – it seems like it’s part of the reason why we’re in this mess in the first place! Of course, I’m not going to be presumptuous enough to propose what new guidelines we are to use. Metaphors are used to create symbols to represent and direct us toward a new frame of vision; presently these metaphors are clogging our dialogue and leading reform astray.

Again, I want to reiterate that I think the general ideas are worthwhile in Hargreaves’ text; I’m concerned by the perpetuated wrongdoing of language as demonstrated within the text.

When Good Feedback Goes Bad

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As is the case at the end of any grading period, I had my students write anonymous evaluations of my 11th and 12th grade English classes after they completed their final. Not that it’s an exactly innovative notion, but I am generally interested in redesigning and shaping my class around what my students see as being successful for their needs. The exact prompt students were asked to respond to was as follows:

Evaluation: This is the end of your 2nd mester of English, you will not have any more English classes this year. Please write down what you think could be most improved about this class for future students. What do you think was least helpful in your development as a reader, writer, and critical thinker? What do you think was most interesting or most helpful? How can Mr. Garcia be a better teacher? Do you have anything else you would like to say? Please do not put your name on this evaluation.

I continue to struggle with trying to come up with a way to get students to be harsher in their criticism. I generally get positive affirmations about how students liked the class, my teaching style, or the curricula used. The problem is I don’t really need to hear these comments; sure, they’re nice, but they don’t help me improve. Perhaps most frightening with this semester’s batch of evaluations is the number of students that reiterate the following basic idea:

“…I think that you already are a good teacher and do not have anything you need to improve. I think the people who need to change are the students…”

Much of my class revolves around decisions: students choose to focus on their work, to push themselves, to turn in their myriad writing assignments on time. So many of my students wrote their reflections about how their classmates are not holding themselves accountable or up to the expectations delineated in the class goals. To me, when I a student is not succeeding in class, I (as I’d guess many other teachers would) take the lack of success personally – I am not able to connect with the student or find a way for this student to make the decision to engage in class work.

Not to get too righteous here, but the students in my class have been denied access to the kinds of educational opportunities that other public school children have received for far too long. It’s evident that this kind of hidden curriculum is so deeply engrained in our students’ psyche when the onus of blame is seen as that of one’s classmates than on the educator. That is, I should be the one scrutinized, criticized, and lambasted if a student is not performing as expected – not the student in the class conspicuously trying to text message a friend.