literacy
Why Do We Do "Pointless" Things? (Hint: They’re Not)
The other day, an English teacher at my school emailed the faculty with the link to this piece in the New York Times about literacy (or lack thereof) in Mexico. It makes me want to yell at someone, hit someone, and just scream and cry at the same time.
Here’s part of what set me to tearing my hair out:
A few years back, I spoke with the education secretary of my home state, Nuevo León, about reading in schools. He looked at me, not understanding what I wanted. “In school, children are taught to read,” he said. “Yes,” I replied, “but they don’t read.” I explained the difference between knowing how to read and actually reading, between deciphering street signs and accessing the literary canon. He wondered what the point of the students’ reading “Don Quixote” was. He said we needed to teach them to read the newspaper.
Because if they read thought-provoking novels, they won’t be able to read the newspaper? We should limit them to only achieving the baseline?
Seriously?
And then this:
When my daughter was 15, her literature teacher banished all fiction from her classroom. “We’re going to read history and biology textbooks,” she said, “because that way you’ll read and learn at the same time.”
I’m all for using literacy in the content areas, but throwing out fiction in literature class in favor of textbooks?
There’s learning to read, which is generally what happens in elementary school. Then kids transition to reading to learn, which is what we’re doing when we read textbooks or essays. We take the knowledge someone else has and absorb it by reading.
Then there’s what I’d call reading to create knowledge. I’d say that’s what happens when we read fiction. We can make our own discoveries about human nature, about ourselves, our own understandings about the world. The job of a novelist—as I see it—is not to teach but to explore. The reader explores with us, yet may not discover the same things or arrive at the same destination. That’s why it’s amazing.
This idea that we should only learn things that we’ll definitely, absolutely use in a concrete, practical way mystifies me. As I mentioned a month ago, it’s certainly turned up in my classroom. While I don’t hear students ask what the point of reading novels is (maybe the English teachers get that from the kids who don’t like reading—I have to threaten to take books away from kids who’d rather read than do math), I get it about almost everything else we want them to learn.
My school just sent out a survey last week, and one of the items was to vote on whether we want to institute a mandatory free-reading time next year. Twenty minutes a day, three days a week. No matter the class, everyone will spend those twenty minutes reading, including the teachers, administrators, everyone.
I haven’t had a chance to ask the other math teachers what they think of it. Or the science, art, PE, music, history, and tech teachers.
My vote: Absolutely, yes, without question.
Because the only pointless thing is limiting ourselves to the concrete little nothings. What kind of life is that?
Speak up:
3 commentsNot My Job … Or Is It?
With a change in location and employment comes the return of an old idea. It’s not universal among math teachers—I hope it’s not common for even a majority of teachers. But every once in a while, I hear something along these lines:
“It’s math class. I don’t do English.”
I just came from a school with the philosophy that every teacher is a language arts teacher. (Honestly, to such a degree that it could be a pain sometimes … but a necessary pain.) Other schools likely feel the same way to one degree or another. But not all teachers buy into that.
Does it mean docking points when the math is all correct but there are spelling or grammar errors? No, I don’t think so. What, then?
As writers (and particularly YA writers), many of us have considered how our books might be read and used in schools. Visions of curriculum guides, worksheets, projects, discussions … almost all in English class, right?
How could other teachers use our books? Historical fiction could tie into social studies classes. Science fiction might work in some science classes, at least in portions. But what could teachers do beyond straight-up reading assignments to encourage both interest and skill in reading and writing?
A few things I’ve done:
- When a new, strange word comes up, take a few seconds to discuss it … even if it’s not a “vocabulary” word for my unit.
- Have students do small writing assignments to explain their thinking. I encourage clarity and completeness, and while I don’t mark off for grammar errors, I give little nudges.
- TALK ABOUT BOOKS. Just because it’s math class doesn’t mean I don’t have moments here and there to talk about what I’m reading, what students are reading, what they think of the last book in one trilogy or another, etc.
Speak up:
1 commentPrimer #1 on Deaf Can/Can’t
Every so often, I’ll get a particular comment about Fingerprints on critique sites—something about Tasmin (the Deaf character) displaying unrealistic English skills.
These commentators mean well and undoubtedly speak from their personal experience, so I don’t mind. I see it as opportunity to spread a little knowledge.
When I was in grad school, we frequently discussed the hated statistic: Most deaf people read at a fourth grade level. Please note that the statistic on that website is actually that the median reading level among 17- and 18-year-olds in the sample was 4.0, so there’s one inaccuracy that creeps into the discussion. Generalizing that, half of the individuals in the sample read at or below that level … and half read at that level or above.
Another thing to note: The literacy statistics among the general U.S. population aren’t too great, either. Check here for some stats that those in medical fields should keep in mind. There are a lot of reasons for this, including school performance, education level of parents, and language access.
That last point—language access—is likely the biggest hurdle for deaf kids. The most accessible language is most likely not one that’s used in the home when the deaf kid comes along. An exception is when there is a Deaf parent (or two), which does happen, but overall isn’t that likely. Some hearing parents dive right into signing classes and/or take other steps, working their tails off to help their kids succeed.
Regardless, a huge number of variables are involved … enough to make generalizations pretty useless.
What I do know is that I’ve worked with deaf students on both ends of the spectrum. I’ve known deaf kids who read above grade level. I know several others in high school who read and write at or very close to their grade level. It happens, and if I see it at our tiny little school, it happens everywhere to one degree or another.
So do I stand by Tasmin’s skills? Absolutely, and not just because the character is meant to be unusually intelligent. I chose to focus on the “can” … and the only thing Tasmin can’t do is hear.