Wednesday, April 28, 2010

TAKS-ing

Yup, it's that week. The week that our entire lives revolve around. The week we all dread and anticipate at the same time. TAKS week. The week for which our schools now seem to solely exist. Throughout my years in education, I have developed a deep and intense hatred for standardized, high-stakes testing because of the way that I see that it is absolutely destroying education, at least in the schools I have been in. I know that there are many schools out there that are still committed to innovative, creative, and meaningful instruction, but unfortunately, I don't see this in the schools I am personally connected with.

Because TAKS is the measuring stick for so many things...AYP (Adequate Yearly Progress for the No Child Left Behind act), teacher effectiveness, school ratings, etc. etc, the pressure to receive certain scores becomes the driving focus of many schools. And instead of improving instruction, I feel that it is absolutely destroying it.

I cannot tell you how many times our students this year had to do some sort of mock TAKS test. I can't tell you how many times they had to do some sort of TAKS passage for common assessments. I can't tell you how many TAKS passages they did over the holidays. I can't tell you how many times our principal has mentioned or threatened passing the TAKS test this year, as if that is the only goal we have for our students. I don't know when the last time ANY of our student participated in any kind of inquiry-based independent research project or had the opportunity to use the computer lab for any type of innovative technology application. The labs are used for TAKS prep programs (read and click, read and click). No wonder our students aren't engaged! No wonder they don't see any practical application for education! They are TAKSed out! They are bored out of their minds! There is nothing as boring as yet another TAKS passage or more TAKS vocabulary or another TAKS strategy. And what happens when they get in the real world and everything isn't presented in a TAKS standardized test format? What happens when they get in the real world and don't know how to create a digital PowerPoint presentation or type a decent resume or use anything besides Wikipedia for research because all they've ever done in a computer lab is some sort of online TAKS prep program??

Teachers are frustrated because administration demands more and more "data analysis" and "student profiling" which means more and more common assessments. True, there is a big push in research and in the education world for "data-driven instruction." But I think the actual intent in the research indicates data should come from other sources besides having the students complete a zillion released TAKS tests and calling it common assessment.

More and more teachers feel compelled to violate ethical standards and "cheat" on TAKS because of the pressure that is placed on them to achieve certain results. More and more students also feel pressured to cheat, probably because they are so terrified from the dire threats that are barked at them all year. Even though 5th and 8th graders are technically the only ones required to pass reading and math in order to be promoted to the next grade, teachers and administrators falsely threaten the 6th and 7th graders with that ultimatum as well. However, by the time the test actually rolls around, the students are so tired and so sick of seeing the thick, long, boring TAKS packets, I don't think they really take it very seriously. I mean, they've already forced themselves through these long, tiring assessments so many times...it's hard to be motivated to concentrate through yet another 3-5 hr marathon reading session.

But worst of all, we have made TAKS the end-all, be-all for our students. We have created this perception in their minds that passing TAKS is the ultimate goal. If they've passed TAKS, they've achieved success. However, TAKS is just an assessment of minimal basic standards...passing TAKS does not equal college-readiness. Next week, all hell will break out in this school because the students shut down after testing is over. TAKS, their reason for existence, is over and so what's the point?? "I don't need to do homework...I passed TAKS. I don't need to read...I passed TAKS. Shoot, I don't even need to come to school....I passed TAKS" seems to be the mind-set that we have created in our students. We have given them no value for what they are learning beyond the ability it gives them to pass this test. We have given them no reason to internalize what they are learning beyond this test. Therefore, students are leaving our schools with a million strategies to pass a test, but no creative thinking and no problem-solving ability, and honestly, not even the basic knowledge and skills that the test is supposed to measure.

I am so very sad about what the kids I see in these hallways every day are missing out on. They already get the short end of the stick on so many levels, and we can't even help level the playing field by giving them a good, quality, meaningful education. I know not all schools fall prey to this test paranoia and are providing creative, rich learning opportunities, full of inquiry, technology integration, and problem-solving strategies that our kids will need to survive in the 21st century. But there are not enough of them. And certainly not enough of them in south Dallas.

Supposedly, TAKS is going to be phased out soon. I don't know much about its replacement. But I do hope that our administrators and leaders can open their eyes and see what we are doing to these kids is not healthy, helpful, or beneficial to anyone but themselves.

Monday, April 19, 2010

Prisoner of Hope

"Hope and optimism are different. Optimism tends to be based on the notion that there's enough evidence out there to believe things are gonna be better, much more rational, deeply secular, whereas hope looks at the evidence and says, "It doesn't look good at all. Doesn't look good at all. Gonna go beyond the evidence to create new possibilities based on visions that become contagious to allow people to engage in heroic actions always against the odds, no guarantee whatsoever." That's hope. I'm a prisoner of hope, though. Gonna die a prisoner of hope."

— Cornel West

I love this phrase by Dr. West...being a prisoner of hope. The past few days I have been reflecting on certain people and relationships and situations in my life and trying to figure out why I just can't seem to let go or give up. All things logical and reasonable tell me to...to just let go and walk away. Sometimes I get so frustrated with myself because I want so badly to do just that...but something inside won't let me take those steps. Then I read this phrase and immediately I understood why. For better or for worse, I'm a prisoner of hope. Hope that these people, relationships, and situations can and will change holds me inexorably captive. Despite what logic, reason, and caring friends tell me, hope just won't let me go. I haven't decided yet if this is a good thing or a bad thing...but I do know that I have not figured out yet how to escape it. And even though it brings me pain at times, I don't think I want to.

Saturday, April 17, 2010

Success Story!!

I just got back from a very enjoyable afternoon of book shopping with a student of mine. You know, sometimes in a school like mine it is so easy to get discouraged and frustrated with the handful of kids that cause so much chaos and you start feeling hopeless about the whole situation. But then, some days, I start looking past the loud cursing and destruction of property and the fighting and the back-talking of the most noticeable kids and make a conscious effort to see the faces of the other kids passing by. And you know what?? There are some really, truly amazing kids that I work with every day. I mean some really fantastic kids. Kids that make me think of the Booker T. Washington quote that says, "Success is to be measured not so much by the position that one has reached in life as by the obstacles which he has overcome." I am surrounded by success stories every day and sometimes we hardly even see them.

Lea was one of my students in sixth grade when I was still teaching language arts. She and her family moved to Dallas after Hurricane Katrina. In sixth grade, I don't think I was her favorite teacher because I "nagged" her pretty hard. It wasn't that Lea wasn't a good student; it was just that I didn't get a lot of effort from her. At all. It used to frustrate me because she just didn't seem to be trying. She was a sweet girl, but I just didn't get a lot out of her. She definitely wasn't a reader and didn't seem to be into anything that would require that much effort on her part.

Last year, when I became the librarian, Lea came to the library with her reading class. I remember suggesting a book to her for her book report. It was an urban fiction drama. Before I knew it, Lea was back. She had finished it and wanted the other book by the same author. That was the beginning. Now a year later, I see Lea in the library almost every day. She has read almost 40 books since the beginning of this school year alone!! She has read several series and is often known to advise her classmates on what to try. I really think she has read more of the books in my library than I have and is a better book talker than I'll ever be! Because I only get to order books once a year, I often don't have the latest releases by certain authors or for certain series. So now she has me requesting them from the Dallas Public Library, where I will go by and pick them up for her on my library card. She also has gotten her brother and sisters into reading and she will often check out books or swap books with them as well. She is just so excited about her reading and prides herself on being a reader now....I love it!!

Today I picked her up and we went to the public library to sign her up for her own library card so this summer she can continue her voracious reading. We then went to Half-Price Books because she had never been there. We also went to Target to get a new book that wasn't available at either the library or Half-Price. We had the best time browsing books together and talking about the ones she's read. I haven't had a book buddy like Lea in quite some time!

I just have seen such a turnaround in this girl and her motivation and I can't help but think that discovering this love of reading was a part of it. Even if I don't do anything else as a librarian or teacher, I feel I had a small role in this new-found hobby of hers and I'm really happy about that. I'm really going to miss Lea next year when she goes to high school, but I hope to keep in touch with her because she will always be my first library success story!

Thursday, April 15, 2010

The Real Issue With Sagging

So there’s been a lot of talk recently about the sagging-pants issue. First, the guy on “American Idol” got everyone singing “Pants on the Ground” for weeks and now a lawmaker in New York is starting a billboard campaign to stop the sag in his state. As with most debates of any kind, I try to take a step back, lay my personal traditions and beliefs aside momentarily, and attempt to look the issue objectively from multiple perspectives before taking a stance. (Just a forewarning...do not take this post as support of sagging britches...it is meant to address HOW we are addressing the issue of sagging...so read it with that in mind!)

Growing up in a world where tight, high-waisted Wranglers were the norm for most men, it is quite different to spend my days in a culture where just the opposite is the preferred style of dress. Yes, it is hard for most people from outside this culture, including myself, to understand the logic behind wearing pants loose and sagging. In our eyes, it may look ridiculous and foolish. Yet at the same time, these guys will look at a West Texas man wearing tight Wranglers and think that it looks equally as silly. So who is right? Who is the ridiculous one? We usually will condemn the sagging pants guy because he may be dangerously close or actually is showing his underwear, which our society’s norms, as well as just common principles of modesty, tell us is not acceptable. Yet at the same time, where do these social norms come from? Who decides what is appropriate? A closer look will tell us that most “acceptable” behavior or style of dress is rooted in the traditionally white culture. The white culture has determined what is appropriate for work, school, business, etc. according to our culture’s preferences and everyone else must adjust to it. Because white men began the tradition of wearing ties and suits to work back in the years before people of color were even present in most professional settings, the tradition continues and others are expected to adapt to that norm. That’s just the way it is.

Some say that the sagging pants style originated in prisons because often the uniform pants did not fit properly and inmates were not allowed to wear belts. The African-American culture (where the sagging pants style originated) has historically been known for taking negative parts of their history, taking ownership of it, and making it their own…perhaps their own way of taking back some control of what previously they had no control over in a sense. (Use of the N-word for example). I think in many ways, the sagging pants style is just a quiet little revolt at always having to adapt to what the white man says is correct. I think it’s a form of expression of a culture trying to make its own decisions, its own styles, its own mark after years of being quietly and not so quietly oppressed in this country. Maybe we as white people react so strongly to it because deep down we don’t like anyone stepping outside the norms that we put into place, adhere to, and have collectively decided is acceptable. Maybe it makes us feel like we’re not in control anymore. Or maybe it’s not that deep…maybe we just plain don’t like how it looks and it makes us uncomfortable. Regardless of where we stand, my concern is with how it is being addressed.

Thousands of dollars are being spent on these billboards and other things like ticketing people for wearing their pants too low. Meanwhile, our inner city schools are struggling, economic growth in black neighborhoods is at a standstill, kids are joining gangs and getting involved in selling drugs and are being killed by the violence that surrounds them. Kids are dropping out of school because they see no place for it in their future. They don’t see legal job opportunities around them. They don’t know how to get to college or why to get to college. But we’re worried about their pants sagging? Their very lives are at risk, people! These kids are not going to look at a billboard and think, “Oh that says I need to pull up my pants. Let me go get a belt.” The more we attack kids for how they dress, the more they are going to rebel and tune us out when we try to talk to them about the things that are really crucial. Instead of putting up a billboard, that New York lawmaker needs to spend his money to invite some young men into his professional environment and mentor them. He needs to build a relationship with some of them and invite them to see how his world works. Allow them to see how lawyers and businessmen dress and carry themselves while in a professional environment. Talk to them about college and how to get to that level. Talk to them about how much money he makes and how much money he has at his disposal to put up billboards because of the opportunities his education has given him. Maybe not all the young men would change their minds, but I guarantee it would make them think about their choices more than a billboard or a ticket that they will crumple up and throw on the ground.

Regardless of the origin of the social norms for professional and appropriate behavior and/or dress in our country, the expectations do exist. We all have to conform to them. There are certain expectations for how to look and present yourself in many different environments and situations…whether it be a job interview, church, a funeral, a party, a graduation, a nice dinner, or the movies. The key is to work with our young people on knowing how to navigate this system and learn how to adapt and switch between these different environments in order to be successful. I may not like never being able to wear jeans to work, but it is something I must adapt to in order to be successful in my career. Fortunately, in my upbringing and the world I was raised in, I was taught those social norms and how to adjust to them. I know how to conform to what is generally accepted in my world. To be honest, I do not take offense when I drive through South Dallas and see teenage boys with their pants sagging. This is their community, their culture, their neighborhood, and this is the accepted style of dress in their world. But at the same time, we need to teach these boys that there is a world outside of South Dallas with opportunities that are not yet available to them in their community as it is (unfortunately). We need to teach them the difference in what they wear hanging out with their friends on the block and what they wear going to apply for a legitimate job. We need to explain WHY they are asked to pull up their pants and give them actual reasons to do so by providing them with quality education and opportunities!

So please understand that I’m not saying it shouldn’t be addressed….it’s the how and the why that we need to look at. Are we harping on these kids because “we” don’t like how it looks and it’s different than what “we” prefer and it makes “us” uncomfortable, or are we concerned on their behalf that how they are presenting themselves may be having a negative effect on taking advantage of certain opportunities in life? Do we understand it is not about us? Do we understand that there are much greater underlying issues in the communities from which this style originates that need to be addressed? Are we willing to commit to working with youth and mentoring youth to help them navigate this big system out there instead of punishing them for how they dress? I mean, we are fighting just to keep the young men in school until graduation. We’re fighting to keep them out of jail before they turn 18. We’re fighting in some cases to keep them alive to wear pants, period! We’ve got to give them a reason to pull up their pants. We’ve got to show them there are different paths that they can take out there…not just what they see around them and then we’ve got to show them the steps to get there. A billboard is not going to show them that. But a meaningful relationship will.


So instead of shaking your head, acting disgusted and disgruntled, griping, and attacking these young people…reach out. Get to know them. Become a friend and a mentor on their path to options and opportunities. Try to understand where they’re coming from and explain where you’re coming from. Make an effort to learn about and understand their struggle. And then show them the way to a different way! Never try to take away who they are to make them become who you are. But teach them how to be themselves in other environments while navigating the system’s unspoken expectations. Let’s don’t just preach out….let’s reach out!!! Far more than just your discomfort is at stake.

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

The Bible and the Birth Certificate

About a year ago, my friend and former co-worker Janet on her blog linked an excerpt from another woman's blog that I haven't forgotten. I remember that this particular post was written in such a powerful way and its message troubled me for a long time. As I've been thinking about "justice" over the past few weeks and the dignity with which Jesus always treated "the least" of our society, I thought back on this blog post and decided to dig it back up to re-read. It was still just as powerful. I started reading through this woman's other blog posts and couldn't stop. (I've linked her on the left- The Intermittent Volunteer). This lady has built very unique relationships with homeless neighbors here in Dallas and provides a very "human" voice for them through her blog. (I don't know her...hope she wouldn't mind me borrowing her words!) Anyway, here is what she wrote almost a year ago...what is your reaction?

The Bible and the Birth Certificate

a night this week,
rain pours down from the freeway overpass above,
onto cardboard-box houses that are almost empty.
as the water splashes onto my head,
i think vaguely that it has been under car tires
and must be very dirty.

a man from India,
whose face shines near me in the dark
as he stands inside his empty box-house, says to me,
“what you all are doing makes all the difference.”

i battle back the tears
so as not to embarrass him
or myself.
i will choke on those tears for days,
as the sorrow i see and feel this night makes me ill,
sending me to bed with bronchitis.

it is the sorrow that does it,
not the cold.

i’ve seen this place for years,
this camp outside of dallas
erected in desperation by people who have no place else to go –
seen it in various states and stages –
with occupants numbering a hundred,
and with a population of five.
maybe this time is harder
because it is so tragically
just exactly the same.

somewhere downtown in a brightly-lit building,
someone pulls a lever,
and the gears begin to turn.
wheels roll through the streets of dallas,
devouring all in their wake,
and move on down into the trenches,
where people wait, huddled under cardboard.

how many times have the dozers and dump trucks
come to this little town?
almost six years i’ve been seeing the aftermath,
yet i’m just a newcomer.

is this truly the best we can do?

this week, this night,
four friends of the camp’s people
stand helplessly on the sidewalk,
trying to know how to tell the story,
and trying to keep the people alive –
in body and in spirit –
in bitter rain,
and wind which cuts with a vicious bite
through the space
under the freeway overpass.

i walk back and forth
in front of the few cardboard houses,
up and down the sidewalk in the blackness,
one new pair of socks left in my pocket.

these few box-houses,
back from the dead of last friday’s raid,
won’t last long
against the dump trucks and dozers
which are sure to come again soon.

a woman comes towards me in the dark, face hidden in a hood. “he’d just gotten a copy of his birth certificate,” she tells me of her husband. “it was in his Bible. last friday, he was downtown, clearing out his warrants. i tried to get them to let me back into our house to get his papers before they tore it down and took it away, but they said no.”

her husband was taking the steps he had to take to get off the street. back to zero.

“wait, wait,” i tell her, and i put my arm around her and walk her back down the sidewalk toward the friends who’ve come with me, wanting her to tell another witness, wanting the words to be hers, not mine. words coming out of a sad face, a cold face, a numb face — a face that can barely hold any more sorrow, but that endures, and one that seems to be past anger, because it has no recourse. as we walk, she asks me, ‘do you have any clothes? they took everything.’ ‘i’ll bring you some,’ i promise.

a bureaucrat gives an order,
and the trucks roar to life.
workers wield their rakes,
clearing the residue of human lives.
‘you can take your id’s. nothing else,’
they tell these people regarding their own possessions –
clothing, bedding, everything is gone.

so the man from India
stands in his empty cardboard house
on this near-freezing night
with two thin blankets
and says to me, without anger or self-pity,
‘feel these blankets. they are wet.’
he is well-spoken, clearly educated.
i touch the blankets.

‘they are wet,’ i agree. ‘i’m so sorry.’
we have no blankets with us to give him,
but what matters to him is that someone sees,
that someone cares.

if there is love and caring,
the wet and cold can be more easily endured.
it feels so bitterly cold under that bridge,
though, near the people, it is warm.

trying to rise from the muck,
the woman frantically grasps at the costly sheet of paper,
tucked there within the Good Book,
but both are sucked up into Heaven,
just out of reach of her hands.
the machine of bureaucracy
is grinding up and spitting out human beings,
along with their hopes, dreams and belongings.

no recourse

a group of theorists finds the people, counts them, takes in money on their behalf, and spends it as they see fit. a group of bureaucrats collects sizable pay checks in the name of aiding the people, returning to fine houses at day’s end, yet the people themselves are forbidden their cardboard-box homes, even though they have nowhere else to go.

then, somewhere in the past, present and future, a tall, robust man stands at a podium looking radiant and nods graciously to thunderous applause from like-minded supporters. crystal sparkles. luscious food has been presented, nibbled at, pushed away, and removed. by candlelight, wine is sniffed, sipped, and perhaps sloshed onto starched white linen tablecloths.

the remnants of the food end up in the landfill,
and mingle there with a Bible and a birth certificate.

“i’m happy to report that we’ve solved the problem of homelessness in dallas,” the man says, smiling an appealing and congenial smile. and, once again, the audience roars to life.

as if the magic of machinery can make people disappear.

KS
http://theintermittentvolunteer.wordpress.com/2009/03/13/the-bible-and-the-birth-certificate/

Friday, April 2, 2010

This Is For You, Maddy!

So I got a newsletter from Scottish Rite hospital (where Maddy receives some of her treatment) and on the back I noticed that Cotton Patch cafe is partnering with them in a pretty cool fundraiser. It says:

Take the Cotton Patch Cafe Challenge and support the patients at TSRHC through the Cotton Patch Cares Program. From March 29 to May 16, make a gift to TSRHC at and Cotton Patch Cafe will give each participant a gift card redeemable at any restaurant location. For every $25 you donate to the Challenge through The Challenge Website, you will receive a gift card valued at $25 each! One hundred percent of The Challenge donations benefit TSRHC. Please help Cotton Patch cafe reach its goal of raising $100,000 for the hospital. For more information or to make an offline donation, please call 214-559-7650 or 800-421-1121, ext. 7650. Thank you for your support!

Well, that sounds like a pretty good deal for people who need an incentive to give! I think I'll make a couple of donations to Scottish Rite and have some Christmas gifts ready for next year!! Ha ha!!

It's a little sad to me that people have to be bribed to give to good causes, but oh well. In the end, Scottish Rite gets $100,000 and Maddy continues to get wonderful treatment! So spread the word! :-)

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Wyshina's Wisdom

The Prayer Breakfast at Central Dallas Ministries is coming up this week...a fundraising event that is held every year to promote awareness of the issues that CDM is seeking to address. All kinds of people attend, from "big wig" business leaders to residents of the neighborhoods that CDM partners with. There have been big name speakers in the past, but maybe one of the most impactful ones was the year that my friend Wyshina got up and spoke in front of hundreds of people. I was thinking about her speech recently when we were having the discussion about "justice" and "justice initiatives" a few weeks ago at house church and wondering what she would have added to the conversation had she been there. This is a blog that Janet wrote (hope you don't mind me borrowing Janet!!) shortly after the speech and the message that both Janet and Wyshina are sharing here I think is important to think about.....

Prayer Breakfast

I couldn't have said it better myself!...Wyshina, my friend and co-worker, a parent of two, and the coordinator of our After-School Academy, was the testimonial speaker at our Central Dallas Prayer Breakfast this morning. She did an absolutely amazing job. Read what she had to say:

My name is Wyshina Harris and I am a resident of South Dallas. I have two kids--a 10-year old daughter and a 5-year old son.

I want South Dallas to become a place where I don't have to worry about my kids' safety every day. We see violence and drug dealing all around us. We hear gunshots fired regularly. My kids still get scared when they hear the gunshots. I don't want my kids to get over being scared of that. Kids aren't supposed to get used to hearing gunfire outside their front door.

There are as many liquor stores as churches in South Dallas. I'd like to see that change. We need a decent grocery store, clothing store, and gas station. It's hard to travel all the way to North Dallas to buy a decent pair of sneakers for my kids.

My kids go to H.S. Thompson Elementary. When people outside of the neighborhood find out where my kids go to school, they say, "Oh my gosh. You let your kids go to school there?!" Well, what's my alternative?! That's the neighborhood school. I can't afford private school for my kids. Our school needs good teachers and counselors who will fight to get kids on par with their grade level rather than sticking them into slow learning classes. We need resources to enable our kids to learn technology and to explore the arts. We can't allow our schools to set our kids up to fail.

I will tell you that there are a lot of things that need fixing in our neighborhood. I will also tell you that there is a lot of hope and a lot of strength in our neighborhood.

I think sometimes people think that people in poverty are just too lazy to pull themselves out. That isn't true. My neighbors talk to me about desperately wanting to find work and wanting to go to school to change their lives. We want the same things for ourselves and our children that you want for yourselves and your children.

I'm not giving up on South Dallas. I ask that you not give up on South Dallas either. We don't need a handout. We need authentic, impactful partnerships to help us solve these issues.

I don't share this with you today because I want your pity. I share this because I want your partnership. I want to work with you, and with the future mayor of our great city, to make Dallas a better place for all of us.

Thank you for listening.



I am proud to know Wyshina and I am grateful for her friendship.

Wyshina (and others) are doing things in their community to make it a better place. But people like Wyshina can't do it alone. Wyshina asked for partnership..."I want to work with you..." is what she said. Wyshina is willing to work with. She did not ask for a group of 40 volunteers to come pick up trash out of her yard. She didn't ask for a youth group to come and play with her kids for the day. Wyshina mentioned much larger issues. Shootings. Leaving kids behind educationally. Lack of places to shop. Rampant liquor stores all around.

Help me partner with Wyshina. She knows what's needed and she has told us. Let's not ignore hers and others' requests because we have other ideas about the best ways to help people in the inner city. Wyshina lives there. She knows. Let's start paying attention.

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