Category Archives: Literacy

The Freedom to Read

Censorship Gone Wild 

There have been a plethora of school library censorship and banned book stories lately. Unfortunately ,there are too many to list, but here are a few highlights that may have graced your news feeds. 

A school district in Tennessee banned the graphic novel Maus by Art Speiglman over concerns of profanity and female nudity. 

Another in removed Toni Morrison’s first novel, The Bluest Eye from library shelves for obscenity. 

Texas, perhaps unsurprisingly, has a whole host of books their officials want to ban, an overwhelming amount of which feature LGBTQ+ characters and themes. 

Librarians have been accused of poisoning young minds, buying pornography, and indoctrinating students. 

One of my favorite frequently banned books, Stamped by Jason Reynolds and Ibram X. Kendi, prominently placed in our library’s Black History Month display. 

In the midst of all of this, it would be easy for Washington educators and librarians to rest on our laurels, grateful not to be working in one of these states with high profile cases. After all, Washington is liberal and progressive, right? 

But, when a colleague sent me this article on Book Riot, “LGBTQ+ Books Quietly Pulled from Washington State Middle School” I was reminded that issues of intellectual freedom and censorship in school libraries are everywhere. Stories like this one that don’t make national headlines are even more unsettling for their insidiousness.

In Our Backyard 

In Kent, The Cedar Heights Middle School librarian, Gavin Downing, was deemed to have “sexually explicit” books on his shelves. The principal pulled books from the shelves, insisted that she monitor all future purchases, and created a council at school to advise Downing on “age appropriate material.” 

It all started with Jack of Hearts by L.C Rosen about an “unapologetically queer teen” who “celebrates the freedom to be oneself, especially in the face of adversity.” If I Was Your Girl by Meredith Russo, an award winning novel about a trans girl, and All Boys Aren’t Blue, a memoir by LGBTQIA+ activist George M. Johnson, were also discussed at board meetings and removed. 

Kent has a board policy to “revolutionize school libraries” across the district but clearly,  censoring queer voices is out of alignment with the third phase of their plan which seeks to “reinforce equity and excellence.”

I can’t help but draw parallels to Texas where 59.95% of the 850 books on the governor’s banned list feature LGBTQ+ characters. 

In Defense of Libraries 

I am an English teacher, so it’s perhaps unsurprising that I take the freedom to read very seriously. I have also been unspoken about the fact that I think we need to update our curriculums to reflect a more accurate, diverse, and empathetic world view

Additionally, this year, I’ve been a librarian half the day, a move that has encouraged me to pursue my library media endorsement, with the hopes of becoming a full time school librarian.

In preparation for one of my classes, I researched Library Bill of Rights and the American Library Association makes it clear that the principles of the bill apply to school libraries. 

The American Library Association’s Library Bill of Rights.

The ALA has a series of interpretations of this bill and there are a few principles that stood out to me in regards to both local and national censorship. 

Intellectual Freedom: School librarians are leaders in promoting “the principles of intellectual freedom,” and must empower students with “critical thinking skills to empower them to pursue free inquiry responsibly and independently.” 

In the Cedar Heights Middle School case, the removal of books from library shelves limits free and independent inquiry. Remember, we aren’t talking curriculum here, but simply books that students have the freedom to read on their own time. 

Diverse Points of View:  Collection material should “represent diverse points of view on both current and historical issues” and “support the intellectual growth, personal development, individual interests, and recreational needs of students.” 

Representation matters. Books by and about the LGBTQ+ community can be powerful mirrors into students’ own experience or windows to foster empathy. I’d argue the titles that were removed from Cedar Heights could have played an integral role in students’ “intellectual growth” and “personal development.” 

Political Views: The resources in the library should not be constrained by “personal, political, social, or religious views” and school librarians should resist efforts of outside groups to “define what is appropriate for all students or teachers to read, view, hear, or access.” 

It’s no coincidence that the books banned in Kent were all written by and about members of the LGBTQ+ community. As long as those individuals continue to face discrimination, their existence and their stories will remain politically charged. 

Rights of Minors:Children and young adults unquestionably possess First Amendment rights, including the right to receive information through the library” and equitable library access should not be abridged by “chronological age, apparent maturity, educational level, literacy skills…”

Librarians are tasked with using their expertise in areas of literacy and adolescent development to fill their shelves. They are uniquely positioned to help their patrons explore those materials and think critically. Students are exposed to more than ever before online, and libraries are a safe place for them to explore a variety of resources with the guidance of a caring adult.

Parental Responsibility “Parents and guardians have the right and the responsibility to determine their children’s—and only their children’s—access to library resources. Parents and guardians who do not want their children to have access to specific library services, materials, or facilities should advise their own children.” 

While I can see why some content might be deemed too mature for young readers, all of the books facing removal at Cedar Heights are highly vetted, award winning, and deemed important young adult texts. As an educator who has, at times during this pandemic, felt more like a babysitter than a teacher, I very much appreciate the focus on families’ individual choices. 

What’s Next? 

I wish I had answers during these “polarizing” and “unprecedented” times. Maybe, some day, we can live in a more harmonious political climate and experience some mundane, precedented news stories, though I’m not holding out hope. 

However, as an educator, English teacher, and aspiring school librarian, it’s clear to me that the challenges we’re facing around intellectual freedom warrant our full attention. 

So, pay attention to your school library and the books filling it’s shelves. Does your librarian curate a collection that is representative of your students’ needs? 

Tune into your local school board meetings and contact the members. (The Book Riot article has contact information for Kent board members if you want to help the situation in Cedar Heights ). 

Have conversations with your principal and colleagues. Where do they stand on issues of censorship and equity? 

Our students deserve the freedom to read and we should never stop fighting for that right.

Choice Reading: Create Readers, not Sparknoters

Choice Reading or Bust

Choice reading is the hill I’m willing to die on. I said it my first year of teaching, rather glibly, but I still believe wholeheartedly in the practice. 

Choice reading, SSR (sustained silent reading) or the like, often goes away after middle school, as the pressure of curriculum inevitably mounts. But, I don’t think the pressure to read and analyze Lord of the Flies is alleviated by removing choice reading. 

Students build reading stamina by reading what they want, not by Spark Noting something they have no interest in.

Instead, according to a graduate paper at Bridgewater State University, and what I have seen anecdotally in my own classroom, “When given more choice, students respond more positively, feel motivated to read and are more likely to engage in class discussions and activities.” 

Although I am definitely the kind of English teacher that would like to do away with the canon and textbooks altogether, I also know that as an employed professional, there are many rules I can bend, but a few I probably shouldn’t break altogether. 

Enter, choice reading. 

High-Engagement, Low-Stakes 

Choice reading is definitely not a new concept. The National Council of Teachers of English (NCTE) has a statement supporting it, claiming the benefits for reading stamina, language development, and cognitive challenge. 

NCTE explains that, “Student choice in text is essential because it motivates, engages, and reaches a wide variety of readers.” 

Even if I had unlimited funds to buy new books every year, it would still be nearly impossible to choose a few whole class novels that truly fit the “wide variety of readers” in my classroom. 

NCTE goes on to explain that choice reading is meant to “build habitual readers with conscious reading identities” and allow students to “practice reading skills in a high-engagement, low-stakes environment.” 

I take this focus to heart in my classroom.  

We read every Friday, and students don’t need to do anything other than read and answer a quick reflection. I implemented the reflection this year, a simple Google form, as a way to help them track what they read. I also always throw in a question that helps me do an SEL check in (What are you proud of this week? What’s something you’re going to do to take care of yourself this weekend?)  

At the end of the quarter, they need to have finished at least one book. Then, they do a book talk with our librarian. She asks them a few comprehension and interest questions and picks a passage for them to explain. We do these talks in small groups to help students practice speaking in front of peers and normalize talking about what we’re reading. 

And, that’s all the accountability I ask for. I don’t have page number requirements and, yes, graphic novels absolutely count. 

Create Readers, not Sparknoters 

While some of my colleagues argue that reading certain texts shouldn’t necessarily be fun, students just need to learn how to “buckle down” and focus, I’m too much of a realist to agree. I know that “buckling down” might look like Googling a summary, which doesn’t solve anything.

Teaching the canon, and only the canon is a classic (no pun intended) case of pounding a square peg into a round hole. 

Edutopia writes that “the disconnect between the canon and its intended audience has become an epidemic, driven by rapid changes in the composition of American schools and the emergence of always-on digital platforms that vie for kids’ attention. By middle and high school, teachers concede, many of today’s students simply aren’t reading at all.” 

All educators know that these “digital platforms” have increased exponentially since that article was published in 2019. We are constantly vying for our students’ attention, desperate to pull them away from their screens.

So, when a student walks into my room on Friday, pockets their phone and says, “Oh, yeah, it’s choice reading day. Sweet!” I can’t help but call that a win. 

The Joy of Reading 

My goal as an English teacher is to create lifelong readers. They don’t all need to love reading novels or highlighting nonfiction like I do. But, they will all have myriad opportunities to flex their reading muscles in almost every facet of their lives–from job applications to voters pamphlets. I believe the attitudes and practices I foster around reading are critical. 

I’ve been teaching for six years, and every year, I hear so many responses from students like this: 

“I have always hated reading, but I actually like this one.” 

“Ms. Schaake, this is the first book I’ve actually read since like second grade.” 

*laughs during silent reading* “I can’t believe I just laughed. Out loud. To a book.” 


“Reading is like, cool, because you’re sort of making a movie in your head, you know?” 

My favorite so far this year comes from a student who’s very vocal about his ADHD, dislike of reading, and desire to be a Navy Seal. 

“I’ve never really felt empathy for a character in a book before. But, I seriously feel what he’s going through. I can’t put it down.” 

In today’s politically divisive, persistently digital world, we could all definitely also use more empathy, and more time to read. 

Media Literacy: 21st Century Critical Thinking

Divided We Fall?

I’m sure there have been many times in history where it seemed like our country was irreconcilably divided. The Civil War is of course the ultimate example, with the Civil Rights movement closely following. But, all year, I have felt the strains of teaching in a cultural climate that seems both at odds with reality and finally aware of grim truths about our collective history.

I have students whose Google ID photos proudly ask to Make America Great Again , and others who display the light pink and blue flag that signifies their transgender identity. While there are always a wide range of opinions in the classroom, these differences between students feel more like cavernous divides.

 There have been several points in the year, particularly around the presidential election,  where I was a little glad I didn’t have students in class. Glad, at least, that I was the only one who had to read the vitriolic message from a student asking why we have to read about the sanctity of Black lives. Glad I could shield my students of color from his anger and unkind words that were rooted in fear, rather than empathy.  

As a teacher, the line between what is political and what’s appropriate in the classroom is blurry at best. And, when we are all bombarded with media from every angle and avenue, it seems impossible to combat disinformation. 

I’ve always found that teaching media literacy and critical consumption of media is important, but this year, among vaccine skepticism, conspiracy theories about stolen elections, and claims of learning loss, these skills felt even more pressing. My job is not to teach my students what to think, but how

So, this year, when I dove into media literacy and argument writing, I strove to bring the real world into the classroom. If I could prime students to at least pause and critically think about what they consumed, I’d call that a win. 

A Picture is Worth 1,000 Words 

One particularly poignant lesson my student teacher created was around the power of images and captions across different media. 

We went over connotation and denotation, and she then presented examples of images with different captions. She asked students to see how the image and their understanding of it changed based on those differences. 

For example, when students saw these two, several swore that she lightened the second photo because they noticed the brightness of the sun and trees, even though nothing but the caption changed. 

While she created the above image for the purposes of our assignment, I saw and remembered myriad examples in the real world. 

This summer, when protests for racial justice broke out across the country, I paid particular attention to Portland and Seattle where headlines diverged wildly. They were called everything from “Antifa mob” and “riot” to “peaceful demonstrations.”  Without being there, it was hard to parse the truth. Some images depicted Portland burning, while others showed a wall of mourners, holding candles. Two wildly different reports of the same story, with two very different connotations, interpretations, and impacts. 

Then, as we were wrapping up our unit, Biden announced his two trillion dollar spending package, and two different news organizations posted very different accompanying photos. One of Biden, the president, and one of Alexandria Occasio Cortez, even though she wasn’t involved in the legislation and openly said that it was “not nearly enough.” Why, then, was she included in the headline? 

These and subsequent lessons on analyzing images helped students realize the persuasive power that lay in small choices that are far from arbitrary. Captions are short, so every word matters. And yes, a picture is worth a thousand words, and our increasingly shrinking collective attention spans, they might be the most important thing a viewer sees.

Read Between the Lines 

While a caption on a forested trail might not be high stakes, the protests over racial injustice and government spending most certainly are. Students, like most media consumers, are so used to the near constant stream of information that they don’t often take a moment to pause and analyze what they’re seeing. 

Honestly, it was only because I was teaching this unit that those different posts about the infrastructure bill caught my eye. We’re so used to being bombarded with content constantly that it’s hard to remember to stop and think. 

After completing this unit, and her research on defining the police, one student told me she realized the issue was much more nuanced than what she had seen on social media. She went into her research against the movement, but ended up doing her project in favor of defunding. 

As with many well meaning, surface level media consumers, she understood the issue to be a false dilemma between police state or mass chaos, and she was actually fairly shocked when she learned more details. 

I don’t want my students to become cynical, but I do want them to recognize when they are being sold a bill of goods. I want them to understand how words and images intentionally play together to convince a specific audience. I hope these lessons at least helped them think twice. 

And, amidst rampant misinformation, fears, and theories around COVID vaccinations, I’d like to run an adult refresher course too, while I’m at it. 

 

Imagining 2021

Perhaps one of the most powerful of phrases in all of teaching is one embedded deeply in the Washington State K-12 Learning Standards (Common Core State Standards) for English language arts. This phrase is one that I honestly believe could change all of humanity if it were embraced and appreciated fully; lives could be improved, our environment could be stabilized and nations would no longer be at war with one another. Wow—what phrase could possibly have such a powerful impact? Reasoned judgement. In essence, reasoned judgement is the critical thinking skill of being able to objectively analyze and evaluate information such as data, text, and research findings and derive a sound argument. Take it a step further and reasoned thinking can be shared with others in a coherent manner. 

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Critical Literacy in Rural WA

I just finished teaching a unit on literacy in my senior English class. I’m loving this class. The kids are amazing, and reading their ideas and listening to them discuss the issues around literacy today has been fascinating- and revealing. One article in particular, “Literacy and the Politics of Education,” by C. H. Knoblauch, really struck a nerve in my small-town classroom.

The article, published nearly thirty years ago, can be found here. For a quick look at the concepts, check out this handy study guide another teacher created and posted. To sum it up rather simplistically, Knoblauch outlines four basic types of literacy: functional literacy, cultural literacy, literacy for personal growth, and critical literacy. In essays and discussions, my students chose the literacies they valued the most and reflected on what their experience in high school had provided them so far. Their perspectives gave me food for thought. Continue reading

Teach Challenging Books

I first floated the idea of teaching Claudia Rankine’s book Citizen: An American Lyric at Lincoln on The Nerd Farm podcast. One major point of discussion was that despite being first published in 2014, the urgency of this book is felt on every page. It feels like it was written for this moment.

Within a few short weeks, listeners flooded the mailroom with donated copies. I was a little nervous. I teach about race, class, and gender but I’ve never taught a book like this. I’ve taught poetry but I’ve never experienced a book of poetry that defies what I learned in college. In the back of my mind lingered the most daunting question of all: can I, a white woman, do justice teaching a book about racism, microaggressions,and intersectionality?

Not one to shirk challenge, I talked my student teacher into team-teaching the text. We found exactly three resources for teaching this text–a reading guide from Graywolf Press and two teacher blog posts from higher ed. For one month, my juniors wrestled with the language, structure, and themes of this book.

Despite the unfamiliarity of poetry as a genre and the “untraditional” way Rankine breaks any expectations of form, Rankine is accessible in a high school classroom setting. Every high school student needs to experience poetry, art, and language the way Rankine creates it. This year when I prepped for the unit, I found, more articles from college level classes, and several university teacher guides signaling to me that I’m not the only one feeling the timeliness of this text.

With the rise of hate crimes, public displays of racism and the casual way these are presented by media, I’m especially convinced that now more than ever, students and teachers need to grapple open and honestly with the discomfort of these issues. In particular, white teachers should teach books that make them uncomfortable or are out of their “range of expertise.”

For students of color, they tell me they need this book because it validates their daily existence. They want to read a Black author who excels at the art of language. They want to feel they are not alone.

For white kids, they need to see a black artist at the highest level. They need to be challenged as perpetrators and beneficiaries of white supremacy. They need to consider how intersectionality shifts and shapes power.

For teachers, we need to teach books outside our comfort zones be in content or style. We need to use our platform in the classroom to amplify authors our students might never experience.

For white teachers, we need to create safe spaces to have open and honest discussions about race in America–where we aren’t threatened by disagreement, where students of color feel confident expressing their thoughts, and where we don’t’ “not all white people” the conversation.

Instead of being fearful of these difficult conversations, we need to be brave. No matter what race we are, we need to collectively read and discuss more books like Citizen. Maybe then we will actually do something to loosen the grip of racism on our country.

On Leveraging Technology part four of several—the problems of addiction

I’ve been thinking about addiction lately, and cannot help seeing my students constantly gazing into their palms as anything but problematic. As I’ve been musing about technology in the classroom this year, basic concerns about screen-time, as well as ideas about maximizing the technology as a benefit for education have come up, but in March (the longest and toughest month for everyone involved in education) concerning addictive behavior is at the forefront.

Students cannot seem to stop looking at their phone. I get the impulse, and spend a great deal of time on computers as well, less on the phone because of personal dislike of the medium. Sven Birkerts and Nicholas Carr worried about this years ago, and the research started in the recent past is playing out their fears—as evidenced in this study by Lin and Zhou: “Taken together, [studies show] internet addiction is associated with structural and functional changes in brain regions involving emotional processing, executive attention, decision making, and cognitive control.” Another study recently brought to my attention by a child occupational therapist, shows us that screens light up the same regions of the brain that cocaine sets afire. And science shows us addictive video games may change children’s brains in the same way as drugs and alcohol.


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On Leveraging Technology: part three of several–tools, devices, &iInstruments

The main response to concerns over screen time and children that I have run into is that educational screen time is not the same as entertainment screen time. I take the point, but I have my doubts. One of my chief concerns is the blind belief in the goodness of technology. Anand Giridharadas illustrates this in a recent interview with Krista Tippet. Giridharadas points out that in Silicone Valley

“there’s this thing of dropping out of college because…they feel they have the technical knowledge they need to get started. And part of what they’re dropping out of, in many cases, is the liberal arts education that is precisely designed to give you these kinds of frameworks to understand things like, history is cyclical, and good things have bad effects, and things go ways that you couldn’t anticipate, and just this normal understanding of how the human condition,…works.

When you have people with that much power over humanity, that much power to decide more and more how children learn and how commerce works and how power functions, and they basically have a naïve, childlike understanding that any tool that they invent will inherently make things better, you go to a very dark place.”

I share his concerns. Teaching literature, the human condition is an obsession, so this resonates with me (plus, I believe in the philosophy of a liberal arts education), but I’m putting my doubts aside for the moment to consider how to maximize the positive potential technology offers the classroom. I want to illustrate a framework for technology in the classroom (or anywhere else).

Recently a friend of mine offered this distinction summarized from Andy Crouch: humans, as inventive, industrious, and inventive beings regularly use tools, devices, and instruments. The distinctions work as follows: Continue reading

On Leveraging Technology: part two of several–does it really help?

To leverage is to use the power or force of a lever in the literal sense, and in the figurative—to advantage for accomplishing a purpose. This is a great educational word.

I once had a mentor tell me I should teach every day as if a parent were standing in the doorway demanding excellence for their child. This is a great educational standard. It is also a recipe for failure, which I’m ok with (as I’ve blogged about before, twice). The truth is, the days I really use technology in the classroom are the days I would never want a parent standing at the door.

A newsletter comes home every week from my children’s teachers. Lately, they are full of pictures. The most recent newsletter is full of pictures of students “doing science.” 50% of the pictures are of kids looking at screens. It is not an image of kids doing anything observable.

The image of my classroom or my children’s classroom should not trouble me if the technology is being leveraged, if the technology is being used to advantage to accomplish a purpose. I teach English and sometimes students are staring at books in my classroom, and other times computer screens. I completely get it is part of the fabric of a class. The trouble I have, more often than not, is with the word advantage. An old French word, advantage means a positon in advance of another. It means profit or superiority. It means before. More often than not my lessons that use technology could be carried out on paper. What advantage is the technology? It saves me deciphering handwriting. It is faster, mostly. This begs the question—why is speed something to value in learning?

My son has a lesson on water, and the way it forms land. The class starts on the computers looking at photos of Mars. Amazing. They observe how the land is shaped, determine there is sedimentary rock in a channel (full disclosure I don’t understand how they determined this) and deduce it was shaped thus by water. The homework is to look around their neighborhood, or town and describe land formed by water. This strikes me as odd, it seems the reverse path practicing scientists take. Don’t practitioners observe their world around them and then make connections to new discoveries and distant objects? My son can describe how water forms land, but does he understand how science works? How scientists have used observation since Galileo? He’s 13, what lesson is the most valuable? It didn’t take long for him to learn how water forms land, but did he miss out on a larger, more important understanding? It is possible I’m being persnickety, but I can’t shake the feeling the technology was used to be used and not necessarily used to the advantage of student learning. I’m not so much questioning a colleague’s choices here, as playing the role of parent in the doorway.

What advantage can these machines provide? How do I, as a classroom teacher, rectify the research showing the use of computers does not help much? It seems computers do not increase understanding any faster than any other educational innovation. The results of a seven-year study of the most scrutinized laptop 1:1 program showed laptops allowed test scores to raise at about the same rate as other counties without them:

“Test scores did go up a lot in Mooresville after 2008, when it started handing out laptops. But Hull calculated that test scores also soared by about the same amount in neighboring counties, which didn’t give laptops to each student.”

Additionally, Jill Barshay notes that the computer implementation had a negative impact on how much time students read books:

“From student surveys, the researchers found that Mooresville students reduced their time reading books by more than four minutes a day, on average, to roughly 40 minutes a daily in 2011 from more than 45 minutes daily when the laptop program was introduced. Meanwhile, kids in neighboring counties increased their daily reading by two minutes.  Four minutes might not sound like a lot, but over the course of a year that adds up to more than 25 fewer hours of reading, which is substantial. Unfortunately, the state stopped administering that survey after 2011 and it’s unknown if book reading rebounded.  But if time spent reading continued to deteriorate, that could partially explain why reading scores didn’t rise as much as the math scores did.”

I suppose this is natural, the new technology will eclipse the old. As mentioned above, I’m a bibliophile, so this sort of news is personally heartbreaking, but I recognize it is not for everyone. But even the lightest research yields rafts of studies where brain researchers are determining that, at best, the results of reading from a screen are only equal to reading from the page. The screen offers no advantage. The more troubling problem arises when one notes these even results occur when testing for basic comprehension not more complex understanding. Even then, the device sometimes can get in the way of the content. Students often report on how they use the device, and then on the content the device provided. The larger problem is, when asked more sophisticated questions, as described in Naomi Barron’s New Republic article, Why Digital Reading is no Substitute for Print, print wins every time. So, the clearest conclusion here is integration of technology succeeds most clearly in pushing out a more successful technology.

Barshay again:

“Students continued to spend as much time on homework as before but spent more of their homework time on a computer.”

The New Republic findings indicate this homework time is less productive, less focused, and equally concerning is this conclusion from Barshay:

“… the highest achievers and lowest achievers didn’t benefit more from the laptops than average students. One of the arguments ed tech advocates make is that educational software can help slower learners review material while quicker learners jump ahead to new topics, with each student learning at his own pace. But the researchers didn’t see stronger test score gains among the bottom quarter or the top quarter of students relative to students in the middle. They did notice, however, that higher performing students were more likely to increase their time on computers.”

The device succeeds most at encouraging more time on the device. A New Jersey school district (also reported on by Barshay) ditched the 1:1 program altogether. The device has some advantages, and is more popular, yet brain research holds with paper. This is not just the preference of luddites and bibliophiles. The long term scientific brain studies are continually reaching the same conclusions previously reached by authors such as Aldous Huxley, George Orwell, Sven Brikerts, and Nicholas Carr in their fiction and memoirs across nearly 80 years. How do we leverage something not offering a clear advantage? Huxley and Neil Postman would argue that what we love will destroy us. Birkerts and Carr posit our love of technology is leaving us with a lack of depth. I suppose I’m arguing that we’re missing the important points. My son misses out on a clear experience of the scientific process, my students type drafts and feel they are done because they look done (all typed up neat and clean), and when we read from the screen we receive diminishing returns. I find irony in the fact that the term “leverage technology” comes out of a program adopted by my district titled “deep learning.” It seems technology is great for many things, but depth is not one of them.

So, in addition to my previous questions, we’re left with this: technology is here, and it will remain. How do we leverage it both in the classroom and in personal space so it works to our advantage and does not inhibit our learning and engagement with our lives? I’ve found some terms and am reading some research I will parse in my next post that attempt to offer some possible answers to this troubling situation.

 

Civil Discourse, in the Classroom and Beyond

Election Day is approaching, and I am reminded of an ongoing struggle I face as a teacher, the need for civil discourse.

The strife and anger expressed by political figures and everyday people on social media penetrates our communities at every level. Our politically divided society has far-reaching effects, and we teachers know that these effects manifest in our classrooms far too often.


I teach in a generally conservative community, which is also home to a large immigrant population. There is built-in conflict and a wide array of opinions, both well-informed and based on hearsay. Leading up to the presidential election two years ago, I was breaking up heated arguments in the halls of our junior high between 12-year olds. They didn’t fully understand the issues; they were parroting what their parents were saying, no doubt, but I remember being shocked, and deeply concerned. How did the political climate infiltrate our tiny, rural school?

Then, when the election was over, I was worried. I have behavior expectations around discussion and debate that require respect on all sides. I wondered if my students would still respect these ideals when their most admired figures did not adhere to respectful behavior or civil discourse. How can I have high expectations of my students when the adults around them were so far from civil? The whole world seemed full of terrible examples of uncivil behavior, and this continues today in the extreme, with bombings, shootings, hate crimes, and blatant hate-mongering on social media.

Although it seems like a monumental task, it is still our responsibility as teachers to instruct the key skills that can combat all of this incivility. If we intentionally instruct and model civil discourse, we can help our students build a better future.

Civil discourse is the engagement in conversation to enhance understanding. It requires respect for all others involved, without judgment. You cannot conduct civil discourse if it is obvious that you question the good sense of your peers. You cannot conduct yourself with hostility, sarcasm,  mockery, or excess persuasive language. You have to accept the views of others as valid, despite your disagreement.

Now take a moment to imagine what that looks like in a junior high classroom. How about a high school debate? Conversation over Thanksgiving dinner with the extended family? Interactions on social media? A political debate? What if civil discourse was the norm?

The Common Core and Washington State Language Arts Standards are explicit in the requirements for discussion and communication:

“To become college and career ready, students must have ample opportunities to take part in a variety of rich, structured conversations—as part of a whole class, in small groups, and with a partner—built around important content in various domains. They must be able to contribute appropriately to these conversations, to make comparisons and contrasts, and to analyze and synthesize a multitude of ideas in accordance with the standards of evidence appropriate to a particular discipline. Whatever their intended major or profession, high school graduates will depend heavily on their ability to listen attentively to others so that they are able to build on others’ meritorious ideas while expressing their own clearly and persuasively.”

As teachers, the urge to stay out of it, to be apolitical and neutral is strong. We don’t want to offend our students, their families, or our communities. However, we must model that we all have views and ideas, and how we express them is important. We do not force our views on others, but, instead, we invite discourse. Our students need to learn to share their ideas and listen to their peers. They need to understand the importance of researching the issues and verifying their sources. They need to practice protocols of debate and dialogue that guide them to be supportive listeners, even when they disagree.

On my quest to be a better teacher of civil discourse, I am piecing together some resources. These are diverse and inspirational, but certainly incomplete. Check them out, and let me know what I am missing.

This is our calling as teachers. We are nation builders. Let’s build a nation full of citizens who are well-versed in civil discourse.

Essentials in Dialogue

Teaching Tolerance: Civil Discourse in the Classroom

Wall Street Journal: New Topic on Campus Civil Discourse 101

Sarah Cooper’s Why We Won’t Be Having No Holds Barred Debates This Year

Katherine Cadwell’s TedX Students Need to Lead the Classroom, Not Teachers  

What is the Harkness Discussion?