A response to Ingrid Johnston’s “What are the benefits for teachers and students of reading postcolonial literature in contemporary secondary English Language Arts classes?”

I was surprised when I asked my fellow classmates about their high school experiences with postcolonial literature: in short, most of them had never read anything postcolonial. Multicultural, perhaps, but not quite postcolonial. They seem to be the same thing, at first, but Johnston points out the important difference between them: “multicultural literary texts often resist the need to address complex issues of power relations as well as marginalized knowledges and practices in the classroom. In contrast, postcolonial texts invite teachers and students to consider the intersections of the aesthetic and the political in the study of literary texts” (197). It seems strange to me that, in a land that was built upon colonialism, the study of postcolonialism (and its literature) is not taught in high school.

Some of the best works I have read are postcolonial. Zadie Smith’s White Teeth, Khaled Hosseini’s The Kite Runner, and Rohinton Mistry’s A Fine Balance are all texts I would love to bring into a high school classroom. Many indigenous literary works could also be considered postcolonial; especially the more contemporary works by authors who are still feeling the impact of residential schools, despite the fact that they are no longer in operation. Asking students to recognize some of the political imbalances in texts also works towards an agenda of social justice.

Studying colonization through a postcolonial lens helps, in a way, with a process called “decolonization.” This TED talk by Rutazibwa is an interesting way to think about colonization, and the process of decolonization (watch at 9:30).

Although decolonization may seem like a difficult-to-reach ideal at the moment, it is still important to strive for it.

A response to Jan Hare’s article “What can I learn about indigenous story-telling traditions that I might apply to the teaching of graphic novels written by indigenous authors?”

After attending the YTE book club event on Sherman Alexie’s The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian, where Jan Hare was the main organizer, I had to make connections between her article and Alexie’s novel. One thing that Hare stressed both in her article as well as during the talk is the fact that Aboriginal communities have strong family ties that keep them together, a theme that reoccurs in Alexie’s novel as well. The story about Arnold’s sister Mary leaving the rez to go live in Montana has similarities to the story Red: A Haida Manga, which Hare describes in her article. Loyalty amongst tribe members and family members seems to be one of the most important factors in the relationships described in Alexie’s novels.

Although Alexie’s work is not a graphic novel, it is very visual, using multiple illustrations to convey humour and life on the rez for Arnold (Junior). Hare felt that the humour was an important counterpoint that made the story so approachable, and the sadness of the narrative so poignant. Hare said that the story made her laugh, cry, and laugh so hard that she cried. For Hare, the story was also a way for her to reconnect with her son through story. Hare said that after grade 3, she had stopped reading to her son before bed as it didn’t seem like something he was interested in any longer. However, when her son was in sixth grade, she read a part of Alexie’s novel to him, and she found that he would bring her the book the next night to hear her read again. This personal story struck me as powerful, as it demonstrates one of the ways people connect through story.

The book club discussion also revolved around the need for approaching indigenous literature with care and sensitivity, especially since most teachers are not indigenous themselves. In order to avoid perpetuating stereotypes and discrimination of Aboriginal peoples through story, teachers need to approach Aboriginal literature as deeply personal narratives – they can be applied to the experiences of many other Aboriginals, but we should avoid assuming that these works tell the stories of all Aboriginals. Each person is unique, after all, and personal experiences should be taken into consideration before cultural experiences.

A response to George Belliveau’s article: “How can drama and theatre techniques be used to provide an entry point into literary study?”

Belliveau’s article is such a useful teaching tool because it breaks down some steps that teachers can use to create a whole lesson plan. He uses A Midsummer Night’s Dream as an example of a dramatic text that can be taught through drama. I have never studied this particular Shakespearean play, so I am going to use Romeo and Juliet as an example for some of my own ideas, and potentially as a future lesson plan.

I found this website to be particularly useful: http://theshakespearefactory.com/educators/teacher-resources/romeo-and-juliet/

Some of my own ideas on how to get students into Shakespeare:

1. Create profile posters (or Facebook pages) for the main characters. (Romeo, Juliet, Tybalt, Mercutio, Nurse, Prince, etc). Get students to act out a modern-day flirtation scene, for example, or have them simulate a texting sequence between Romeo and Juliet, or hate messages (cyberbullying) between a Montague and a Capulet.

2. Get students to create a screenplay out a pivotal scene, and then performing for the class.

3. Tableaux of pivotal scenes (as Belliveau suggested), but perhaps with an included element of charades: can the other students guess what scene the group is enacting?

4. Alternative endings. Get students to think about where in the tragedy disaster could have been avoided (or exacerbated), asking students to choose a scene that they want to modify in order to give the story a different ending. This will help them identify turning points in the plot.

The list could go on…and more power to drama in classrooms!

A response to Shelley Stagg Peterson’s article “How can feedback to students on their writing function as a pedagogical practice?”

Assessment. Not a fun word for any teacher anywhere. Another word for it could be “judgement.” This is, essentially, what teachers do when they assess. They judge their students’ work.

Stagg’s article proposes two aims of feedback: criterion-based and reader-based. The former is for grading purposes, the second is to give students an idea about what their writing communicates. The expository essay is therefore easier to grade because it is almost entirely criterion-based. It is when it comes to grading creative work that English teachers find themselves truly challenged.

In thinking about these two aims, I have come up with some ideas on how to create a rubric for creative work. A good way to create rubrics, I think, is to get students involved in the process; this way, students feel less like they are being imposed upon by criteria from an authority figure.

Among things a teacher can use for a creative rubric:

1. Voice: does the work have a strong sense of voice or character? Is the voice consistent throughout the work, and if it isn’t, then is the shift explainable?

2. Use of literary elements: anything from similes, metaphors to hyperbole, euphemism, etc. Does the student create his/her work with aesthetics in mind?

3. Effect on reader: is the reader pulled into the world created by the student writer? What is communicated to the reader, and how strong is this effect?

4. Additional flair/originality: is there anything else about the writing that is praise-worthy (ie. theme, point of view, characterization, etc)? Why is it effective?

Such hard decisions to make around assessment! The most important part is to make assessment feel like an encouragement to improve, rather than a dismissal of not being good enough.

A response to John J. Guiney Yallop’s article “What are the benefits and challenges of teaching about social justice for bisexual, gay, lesbian, queer, transgender, transsexual, and/or two-spirited people?”

Yallop’s article really brought into perspective how little students might learn about the LGBTTTIQ community from their parents or home life. I was surprised to learn that a grade 6 boy would not know that people with alternate sexualities and genders are part of the everyday population we encounter in schools. This gap in students’ knowledge could be filled by teachers – while it is a huge task, it could also be very rewarding.

The other thing that surprised me was how Yallop said that he was “summoned to the principal’s office and asked to give the principal and vice-principal an outline of (his) plans for the Pride Week unit.” It seems to me that this gesture is mistrusting of a teacher’s capabilities and discretion in dealing with a sensitive topic. I doubt that principals request social studies teachers to report to them before they teach a unit on the Holocaust – so why the extra step for Pride Week lessons? I believe that if parents are worried about their children learning about LGBTTTIQ rights, then they should home school their children. Acceptance of LGBTTTIQ peoples is supposed to be a part of Canada’s national identity, and it should be taught in school.

A response to Meredith Cherland’s article “How is the reading of popular fiction implicated in the construction of gender?”

Cherland’s article touches on the influence that literature has on the construction of binaries – in particular gender binaries. She cites the example of Twilight‘s success, which points to a large female fandom that idealizes heterosexuality. The problems with Twilight, I think, stretch beyond this issue of heterosexuality. It has been criticized for perpetuating the weak female figure, who needs her boyfriend to keep her alive, and parts of it are even said to promote rape culture. The following blog has a lot to say about Twilight – everything from syntax to themes:

http://reasoningwithvampires.tumblr.com/archive

And yet, despite all the critiques, Twilight remains such seductive prose to many teenage girls. Would there be a benefit, I wonder, in bringing a passage from Twilight into the classroom? It would be interesting to see why many teenage girls find the novels so wonderful.

Cherland says, “How can English teachers help? My approach is to make the work of troubling the gender binary part of teaching students to read critically, to challenge and to question what they read” (68).

Perhaps bringing this song into the classroom could start some discussion:

A response to Rebecca Luce-Kapler’s article “Why is poetry still relevant in school?”

This article can be found in:

James, K., Dobson, T., Leggo, C., eds. English in Middle and Secondary Classrooms: Creative and Critical Advice from Canada’s Teacher Educators. Toronto: Pearson, 2012.

I decided to write a found poem from Kapler’s article.

Relevant Humanity

Students grapple with the mystery of biological living,

precise, ungraspable, creative, concrete.

Poetry sound bodies and rhythm syntax genesis

pocket heartbeats in oral beauty –

we witness comma-dash apprenticeship,

poetic tweets, line fires and thought breaks

that rewrite art, choice and imagination.

For if we teach lyric neuroscience,

or qualia wilderness turned loose,

students may become poets

through language, human meaning,

aesthetic hate and raw love.

A response to Mary Clare Courtland’s article “What are multimodal novel studies and how would they benefit my students? What steps can I take to create multimodal response-based novel studies that invite my students’ engagement and response?”

This article can be found in:

James, K., Dobson, T., Leggo, C., eds. English in Middle and Secondary Classrooms: Creative and Critical Advice from Canada’s Teacher Educators. Toronto: Pearson, 2012.

Although it may not be a suitable novel for high school, my mind immediately latched onto the novel Like Water for Chocolate by Laura Esquivel. Each chapter starts with a recipe, and the recipe is tied to the events that unfold in the chapter. It is a novel that unites the sensuality of food with that of magic realism, and for some reason I think it would be fun to get students to do a group project that involves choosing a recipe from the book, trying it at home (documenting the process and results) and then presenting their experience to the class in poetic form, accompanied by pictures of their cooking attempts.

This recipe from the book sounds especially delicious:

Champandongo

1/4 kilo ground beef
1/4 kilo ground pork
200 grams walnuts
200 grams almonds
1 onion
1 candied citron
2 tomatoes
1 Tbsp. sugar
1/4 cup cream
1/4 kilo queso manchego
1/4 cup mole
cumin
chicken stock
corn tortillas
oil

The onion is finely chopped and fried in a little oil with the meat. While it is frying, the cumin and a tablespoon of sugar is added.

when the meat starts to brown, the chopped tomato is added, along with the citron, the walnuts, and the almonds, cut into small pieces.

After the meat has been cooked and drained, the next step is to fry the tortillas in oil, lightly, so they don’t get hard.

In the dish destined for the oven, spread a layer of cream so the other ingredients don’t stick, a layer of tortillas, and over these, a layer of meat mixture, and finally, the mole, covering it with the sliced cheese, and the cream.

Repeat the prcess as many times as necessary until the pan is filled. Put the pan in the oven and bake until the cheese melts and the tortillas are softened. Serve with rice and beans.

A response to Linda Cole and Barrie Barrell’s article “How can ‘transmediation’ illuminate print and visual literacy?”

This article can be found in:

James, K., Dobson, T., Leggo, C., eds. English in Middle and Secondary Classrooms: Creative and Critical Advice from Canada’s Teacher Educators. Toronto: Pearson, 2012.

From what I gathered from the article, transmediation encourages a translation between different forms of literacy. The article used visual forms; photographs or artwork paired with poetry. The impact of the poems became a lot of more real and immediate; and the intertextuality between image and words was fascinating. Without realizing it, I had done something similar. This weekend, I went to Lighthouse Park in West Vancouver and I prepared myself for the journey by thinking of how much I would love to stand beneath the old-growth Douglas firs. I wrote a poem before I left. While at the park, I then took pictures of my surroundings and was suitably awed by the size of the firs there. 

First Forest Firs

I will find the largest tree in the park
and spread my arms wide at its base;
Let them call me a tree-hugger and stare –
I want to look up and see the emerald canopy
fade into the depth of the stormy sky
and feel closer to something that has lived, and stood witness to,
much more than I ever will in my short existence.

Perhaps there was once a time when people
took to the shade of firs on restless-weathered days,
and perhaps this tree bent over the birth of spring’s first fawns,
or the muted love-language of adolescents enraptured –
their youth a foolish, overflowing torrent of quickened pulse and passion,
soon wiped clean by years of adult sobriety.

I will feel my small consequence in face of such longevity,
humbled by the weight of hundreds of years of living
and share two arms’ worth of innocence in peace,
taken in, folded, layer by layer,
between skin and bark.

A response to Kathy Hibbert’s article “How must our approach to teaching adolescent literature change in order to engage the complex needs of at-risk students?”

This article can be found in:

James, K., Dobson, T., Leggo, C., eds. English in Middle and Secondary Classrooms: Creative and Critical Advice from Canada’s Teacher Educators. Toronto: Pearson, 2012.

I read Hibbert’s article, visited the blog of Tim Ludwig, an at-risk student, and then watched his TEDx talk:

I have to admit I was impressed with Tim’s courage to appear on a stage before an audience to talk about why at-risk students shouldn’t be ignored, or dismissed.

Something that struck me as a particularly good idea was the “open work” classroom that allows students to feel comfortable in their learning. There are times when students need to be paying attention and sitting still, but this style of learning should not take up the majority of a student’s time in the classroom. Going into university classrooms helped put into perspective how constraining some secondary school classrooms were.

Here is a list of some classroom norms I found enjoyable:

1. Not having to ask the teacher to use the bathroom.

2. Being allowed to take food and drinks (within reason) into the classroom, so long as I was paying attention to what was going on.

3. Being treated as equals.

4. Being asked our opinions on how we would like to structure our own learning.

5. Knowledgeable teachers who didn’t pretend to be the ultimate expert in their areas.

6. Being allowed to say “I don’t like this text” without judgment on your abilities or worth as a student.

7. Allowing students to disagree openly with teachers, and not penalizing them for doing so (I don’t just mean lower grades; I also mean that teachers don’t look at that student with contempt or dislike.)

I know that secondary teachers are encouraged to teach students multiple literacies and account for their multiple intelligences, but it also seems to me that teachers have the duty of telling students about university, and what university courses will be like. For a student like Tim, about 95% of all university classes would be deathly boring to him, and would not serve his purposes in life at all. A high school English teacher can very well incorporate dramatic reading, poster-making, and video-watching into their curriculum, but a student going into university-level English can expect to see none of these things during their 4-year degree. And although we are warned that essay-writing is over-emphasized in high school, is pretty much all you will encounter in a university-level course. Considering the percentage of students who move on to university from high school (many of them blindly), I think it’s a teacher’s job to de-mystify what university is all about, and let their students know that unless they are prepared to work in a very traditional environment, they won’t find university courses to their liking. I am not suggesting that we discourage students from going to university; rather, I believe we need to encourage students to see beyond university, and look at their alternatives.