Why Should I Care?

“Nice is Not Enough” by Sonia Neito

“Who are you and where do you want to go?” This very line gave me the inspiration for how I imagine starting my first day of school with another group of fresh faced ninth grade students. Which was immediately followed by the thought “Why not ask them now?” It seem belated this late in the school year. Most ninth grade curriculums focus around the idea of identity, a precursor for what is to become their “high school career.” While we explored some version of this very prompt in the fall, I wonder if their conceptions of who they are and where they want to go have changed. While I contemplate how to return to my classroom after a medical leave, I wonder if this prompt could be the very entry point to reestablishing and perhaps reshaping my classroom community.

The fact that our public school system has attempted to cultivate students’ responses to this question with “punitive, high-stakes testing” is just one more reason to eradicate standardized assessments tools that serve as the only point of reference for student achievement. What part of standardized testing measures “Who are you?” and “Where do you want to go?” I’ve recently explored this topic more in depth through Dan Koretz’s recent publication The Testing Charade. He also appears Harvard Ed Magazine’s Winter 2018 edition with “Testing. Testing. 1-2-3.” His facts are much more compelling than my opinion.

“Mapping Interconnected Care” by Victoria Restler

Is it possible for educators to safely share unconventional facets of their identities with students as way to catalyze bonding?  I’ve wrestled deeply with this idea and believe it is safe to do so only when it applies to what can be seen. While much of our identity cannot be unseen, either in appearance, conversation, or product, we all possess something that cannot be known without sharing. I wrestle with this notion on a daily basis. The idealist in me believes I should be able to tell every employer and person I encounter about my struggles with severe depression and suicide. These aspects of my life are the seeds of my teacher, private, and public identities; they just produce different flowers. I carry a bit of pride for having tamed and continuing to persevere through episodic darkness. The realist in me knows when and with whom to share this information. I speak from experience. I’m not sure our professions will ever support truly vulnerable interactions without compromising another part of survival: income.

“Hope and Healing in Urban Education: How Urban Activists and Teachers are Reclaiming Matters of the Heart” by S. Ginwright.

Is it important for the students to know the teacher is practicing (or attempting to practice) “healing pedagogy?” I loved the ideas presented in Ginwright’s research and subsequent publication but I hesitate to proclaim our students must be healed. By me? Perhaps Ginwright’s message is a push towards more “critical reflection,” a “process of careful consideration of the spiritual, social, and political forces that shape our decisions;“ (96) but I cannot ignore that this practice is enmeshed with the implicit belief in repairing students, “particularly if healing is an outcome of the learning process.” Indeed, this is not a fair identification of Ginwright’s research, which also promotes listening and vulnerability as part of the “relational pedagogy” strategy; yet, it is impossible to ignore the irony in presenting a strategy designed to counter “scripted youth development protocols” (95).