This reflection is a response to the following articles: Banks, J. A. (1993). Multicultural Education: Development, Dimensions, and Challenges. The Phi Delta Kappa, 75(1), 22-28. Gay, G. (2013). Teaching To and Through Cultural Diversity. Curriculum Inquiry, 43(1), 49-52. Ladson-Billings, G. (1995). Toward a Theory of Culturally Relevant Pedagogy. American Education Research Journal, 32(3), 465-491. Paris, D. (2012). Culturally Sustaining Pedagogy: A Needed Change in Stance, Terminology, and Practice. Educational Researcher, 41(3), 93-97. In her article "Teaching To and Through Cultural Diversity," Geneva Gay defines culturally responsive teaching as "using the cultural knowledge, prior experiences, frames of reference, and performance styles of ethnically diverse students to make learning encounters more relevant to and effective for them" (49-50).Gay explains that "traditional instruction ideologies... filter curriculum content and teaching strategies through their [middle-class European American] frames of reference… [making them] more personally meaningful and easy to master” (51). This is why schools have been best prepared to serve "middle-class European Americans" (Gay 51). This one way in which we have been unfair to our non-white students. However, this is also where we can start to address the inequity in the education system: we can address and incorporate the "cultural knowledge, prior experiences, frames of reference, and performance styles of ethnically diverse students" (Gay 49-50). We can use ethnically diverse frames of reference to make curriculum more personally meaningful for our students and easier for our students to master. We should find ourselves as teachers called toward culturally relevant or responsive pedagogies. We should also, of course, bear in mind that the closely related goal of "multicultural education is to restructure schools so that all students will acquire the knowledge, attitudes, and skills needed to function in an ethnically and racially diverse nation and world" (Banks 27). In this space, I will use culturally relevant pedagogy and culturally responsive pedagogy interchangeably. While this is a simplification, I do not believe it interferes with the conversation I am hoping to have here. It is worth noting that in his article "Culturally Sustaining Pedagogy: A Needed Change in Stance, Terminology, and Practice," Django Paris calls us to move from these terms to culturally sustaining pedagogy, pointing toward the need for "extended conversations" and "cultural connectedness" (Paris 95). As words both reflect and influence thought, his call for a change in terminology is worthwhile. However, I want to use this space to focus on the actions of educators engaging in culturally relevant/responsive/sustaining pedagogies. Therefore, let's look at what culturally relevant teachers do as culturally relevant teachers. And as you read, please keep in mind that Gay reminds us that as teachers we must "make [our] commitment explicit and how [we] exemplify the general principles and values of teaching to and through cultural diversity” (52). For her article "Toward a Theory of Culturally Relevant Pedagogy," Ladson-Billings observed the teaching behaviors of educators and discovered that while there are no "fixed or rigid behaviors that teachers must adhere to in order to merit the designation 'culturally relevant,'" there are ideas and behaviors which are consistent between culturally relevant teachers (478). The "three broad propositions [which] emerged from this research center around the following:" Culturally relevant teachers recognize and address conceptions of self and others (Ladson-Billings 478). The teachers: In these classrooms, failure was not an option. Culturally relevant teachers "cajoled, nagged, pestered... the students to work at high intellectual levels" (Ladson-Billings 479). However, teachers were also open and honest about "their own shortcomings... and ways they needed to change to ensure student success" (Ladson-Billings 479). These teachers were responsive, and they were also spontaneous and energetic in the classroom. They were risk-takers (Ladson-Billings 479). These teachers existed in students' worlds outside the classroom as well. They "made conscious decisions to be a part of the community from which their students come" (Ladson-Billings 479). This is not, however, to neglect the classroom community, which brings us to the second "tenet" of culturally relevant teachers: social relations. Culturally relevant teachers "consciously create social interactions [for] academic success, cultural competence, and critical consciousness. Briefly, the teachers:" Students understood that each and every one of them were "expected to excel at something" (Ladson-Billings 480). These teachers "encouraged a community of learners rather than competitive, individual achievement" (Ladson-Billings 480). James Banks's "Multicultural Education: Development, Dimensions, and Challenges" affirms this approach, noting that "research indicates that many African American students and Mexican American students are more likely to experience academic success in cooperative rather than in competitive learning environments" (26). Furthermore, it is my personal belief (supported by research) that all students benefit from an emphasis on learning communities. Returning to Ladson-Billings, culturally relevant teachers encouraged a community of learners by "encourag[ing] the students to learn collaboratively, teach each other, and be responsible for the academic success of others" (Ladson-Billings 481). In these learning communities, "knowledge was about doing" (Ladson-Billings 481). Teachers' beliefs about knowledge were: As mentioned earlier, culturally relevant teachers expected students to bring expertise into the classroom. Students constructed knowledge for themselves and with each other (Ladson-Billings 482). Here again I want to note what Banks has to say: "An examination of the knowledge construction process is an important part of multicultural teaching. Teachers help students to understand how knowledge is created and how it is influenced by factors of race, ethnicity, gender, and social class" (25). While Ladson-Billings does not explicitly mention this aspect of knowledge construction, I personally believe the ideas are implicitly interwoven under the umbrella of viewing knowledge critically. Additionally, teachers demonstrated a critical stance toward school curriculum and "trusted the students with this information and enlisted them as allies against the school district's policies" (Ladson-Billings 482). These same teachers used "complex assessment strategies... [and] actively fought students' right-answer approach to school tasks without putting the students' down" (Ladson-Billings 482). The teachers encouraged critical thinking and asking why. And now, dear reader, you may ask why. "Why does this matter?" Here's one reason: "None of the [culturally responsive] teachers or their students seemed to have test anxiety about the school district's standardized tests. Instead, they viewed the tests as necessary irritations, took them, scored better than their age-grade mates at their school, and quickly returned to the rhythm of learning in their classroom" (Ladson-Billings 482, emphasis added).
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“Whose Story is This?” A Reflection on Representation in Children’s and Young Adult Literature9/30/2018 This reflection is largely rooted in these three articles: Reese, D. (2018). Critical Indigenous Literacies: Selecting and Using Children’s Books about Indigenous Peoples. Language Arts, 95(6), 389-393. ©National Council of Teachers of English. Sharma, S. A., & Christ, T. (2017). Five Steps Toward Successful and Culturally Relevant Text Selection and Integration. The Reading Teacher, 71(3), 295-307. ©International Library Association. Myers, C. (2014, March 15). The Apartheid of Children’s Literature. The New York Times. I am framing this little reflection on representation in children’s and Young Adult literature through Sue Ann Sharma’s and Tanya Christ’s “Five Steps Toward Successful and Culturally Relevant Text Selection and Integration” because 1.) their article, like the other two articles addressed above and below, is wonderful and 2.) the five-step format, while it may be cliché, is very reader- and writer-friendly. And so, without further ado, a five-step guide for selecting culturally relevant texts is: 1. Recognize the need for culturally responsive instruction. We as teachers can improve our pedagogy by “broadening [our] theme[s to better] use culturally relevant texts [to] anchor students’ culturally relevant knowledge, such as their identities, experiences, and norms, in ways that improve their literacy outcomes (Gray, 2009)” (Sharma and Christ 296). When students can make connections with texts that feel relevant to their experiences, they can better monitor their comprehension and their motivation also improves (Sharma and Christ citing Al-Mahrooqi, 2013; Christ et al., 2017; Ebe, 2010; Garth-McCullough, 2008; Keene & Zimmermann, 2007; McCullough, 2013; Porat, 2004; Pritchard, 1990; Ramirez, 2012; Tatum & Muhammad, 2012). In addition to the wealth of research mentioned here, I have also compiled research on this topic. If you’re interested in knowing more about the researched benefits of culturally responsive pedagogies, please leave a comment! You can see some of my interactions with culturally responsive pedagogies here. “Teachers are critical in categorizing, selecting, and [re]presenting Indigenous communities through children’s literature.” (Debbie Reese, “Critical Indigenous Literacies: Selecting and Using Children’s Books about Indigenous Peoples”) 2. Get to know more about your students’ lives. This could potentially look like any sort of “getting to know you” assignment, but the teacher in the article uses three methods in the following order: “one-on-one reader interviews,” “personal story projects using digital technology,” and an invitation to search for texts that students “feel are culturally relevant for them” (Sharma and Christ 296-298). The teacher then “provides time for students to browse one another’s [projects] to help them get to know one another better” (Sharma and Christ 298). I believe it’s important to not only give students the opportunity to share themselves with you, the teacher, but also to share with their peers. 3. Search for culturally relevant texts. As Christopher Myers shares in his The New York Times article “The Apartheid of Children’s Literature,” it can be difficult to find texts to represent students of color. This “scarcity of texts for nonwhite students is the norm,” Sharma and Christ observe, citing research from 2006 and 2013. Five years later in 2018, our selection of culturally responsive texts is beginning to improve, although still far from perfect. Sharma and Christ recommend the following websites:
I would like to add https://americanindiansinchildrensliterature.blogspot.com to this list of booklists. American Indians in Children's Literature belongs to Debbie Reese, author of “Critical Indigenous Literacies: Selecting and Using Children’s Books about Indigenous Peoples” and member of the Nambé Pueblo tribal nation. Regarding the selection of Native stories in the classroom, Reese directs us to “choose books that are tribally specific,” “use present tense verbs to talk about Native Nations,” “choose books by Native writers,” and “use books by Native writers all year round” (391). “Of 3,200 children’s books published in 2013, just 93 were about black people, according to a study by the Cooperative Children’s Book Center at the University of Wisconsin… [leaving] children of color… outside the boundaries of imagination.” (Christopher Myers for The New York Times.) 4. Select culturally relevant texts. Sharma and Christ offer a rubric of “seven dimensions that should be considered when assessing the extent to which a text may be culturally relevant for a student:” “I think it’s necessary to provide for boys and girls... a more expansive landscape upon which to dream.” (Christopher Myers for The New York Times.) |
"Global patterns of who came to the United States when- or who came as a refugee or migrant worker versus as an invited professional, or with no prior education versus some college education- also play a role in our intergenerational snowballs... [and] today, nearly one in four schoolchildren is an immigrant or an immigrant's child" (Pollock 89). |
But back to The Snowball.
"Students' academic fates are built through real-time interactions, as educators react to students, students to educators, and both to families, other students, and experiences outside of schools" (103). This is the idea of The Snowball.
Many people find The Snowball hard to discuss. Consequently, Pollock offers some ideas to consider when talking about The Snowball.
"Students' academic fates are built through real-time interactions, as educators react to students, students to educators, and both to families, other students, and experiences outside of schools" (103). This is the idea of The Snowball.
Many people find The Snowball hard to discuss. Consequently, Pollock offers some ideas to consider when talking about The Snowball.
- Address opportunity gaps, explained further in Start Where You Are, But Don’t Stay There: Understanding Diversity, Opportunity Gaps, and Teaching in Today’s Classrooms by H. Richard Milner IV (105).
- Call students "our kids" instead of "those kids" (106).
- Recognize that research supports that "high-quality teachers are schools' most critical opportunity resource" (106).
- Understand that teachers "can't singlehandedly shape students' fates, but they still shape students' fates every day... [teachers] are not solely responsible for student achievement, but you are fundamentally responsible for it" (106-107).
- Realize that over-emphasizing obstacles is dangerous for students. Instead, we should help students "respond to opportunity systems each and every day" (109).
- Consider adopting an "asset perspective" of students, choosing to focus on what students bring to the classroom (111, quoting Milner).
- Take time to understand students' opportunity contexts (111).
- Address microaggressions (113).
- Dismantle the misunderstanding surrounding affirmative action. Recognize that all students earn their college admission. College admission is not handed out to students of color (114).
- Pause and evaluate your own opportunity context (121).
- Consider how this discussion of Pollock's chapter has made you feel. Reflect on your reaction and use those emotional responses to inform your own discussions around opportunity contexts (122).
And if nothing else, I want us to remember that research shows "that educators who analyze their own everyday acts' contributions to student success and well-being (rather than feeling overwhelmed by "systems" out of their control) actually do better by students" (Pollock 106).
Week 8, Blog Post 8
In conclusion…
The summer and this course on adolescent literature are coming to an end, and I definitely have takeaways. But because I believe conclusions, like good-byes, should be brief, I’ll give you just the two biggest takeaways.
The first big takeaway this summer is the importance of finding the space to be a teacher who reads, where being a teacher who reads means reading books that belong in the hands of my students and therefore knowing which students' hands they most belong in.
My other big takeaway is that the passion I have for representation and discussion and critical thinking about the world around us (especially the world around us that doesn’t look like us or talk like us or think like us) is represented in YA books. The work I want to do in the classroom, the conversations I want to have, they’re already started in the space of YA books.
But what does this mean for my students? Well, they’ll see a reading community in their classroom, they’ll see bookshelves and book talks and book boards, and they’ll see meaningful books that lead to meaningful projects. They’ll see that I support them as individuals, as readers, and as members of a reading community. They’ll see that I’m excited for books… and for them.
I think what I need and want now is more ideas, activities, and experiences. I want to keep this momentum and excitement.
And, of course, I need (and want!) to read more YA books from my to-read list/annotated library. A few that I plan on purchasing and reading in the near future are: Ghost Boys by Jewell Parker Rhodes; Akata Witch (series) by Nnedi Okorafor; Throne of Glass (series) by Sarah J. Maas; Love, Hate, and Other Filters by Samira Ahmed; The Prince and the Dressmaker by Jen Wang; Hope Nation: YA Authors Share Personal Moments of Inspiration by multiple authors; We Are Okay by Nina LaCour; and The Memory of Things by Gae Polisner.
In conclusion…
The summer and this course on adolescent literature are coming to an end, and I definitely have takeaways. But because I believe conclusions, like good-byes, should be brief, I’ll give you just the two biggest takeaways.
The first big takeaway this summer is the importance of finding the space to be a teacher who reads, where being a teacher who reads means reading books that belong in the hands of my students and therefore knowing which students' hands they most belong in.
My other big takeaway is that the passion I have for representation and discussion and critical thinking about the world around us (especially the world around us that doesn’t look like us or talk like us or think like us) is represented in YA books. The work I want to do in the classroom, the conversations I want to have, they’re already started in the space of YA books.
But what does this mean for my students? Well, they’ll see a reading community in their classroom, they’ll see bookshelves and book talks and book boards, and they’ll see meaningful books that lead to meaningful projects. They’ll see that I support them as individuals, as readers, and as members of a reading community. They’ll see that I’m excited for books… and for them.
I think what I need and want now is more ideas, activities, and experiences. I want to keep this momentum and excitement.
And, of course, I need (and want!) to read more YA books from my to-read list/annotated library. A few that I plan on purchasing and reading in the near future are: Ghost Boys by Jewell Parker Rhodes; Akata Witch (series) by Nnedi Okorafor; Throne of Glass (series) by Sarah J. Maas; Love, Hate, and Other Filters by Samira Ahmed; The Prince and the Dressmaker by Jen Wang; Hope Nation: YA Authors Share Personal Moments of Inspiration by multiple authors; We Are Okay by Nina LaCour; and The Memory of Things by Gae Polisner.
Week 7, Blog Post 7
Thinking about historical fiction and my students, informed in part by a timeline of YA historical fiction books.
As with all genres, there are good books and less-than-good books. However, I think historical fiction of the YA variety may be heavier on the not-so-good books than many other genres. Looking at the bookshelf of YA historical fiction, much of the genre is white-washed. This is deeply concerning and frustrating, as it can send the wrong and devastating message to our students that the individuals of their histories are not worth writing about. All people’s histories are worth writing about on their own terms, and I intend for the books in my classroom to reflect that. My students don’t have to think historical fiction is interesting, but they do need to know that their familial and ethnic histories are valued in literature and in my classroom. Historical fiction can contribute to this goal. I intend to use it as such (recommendations for this would bring me joy!) so that the students who are interested in historical fiction can have access to historical fiction that is respectful, genuine, and meaningful.
Historical fiction should honor the individuals and communities it fictionalizes for it to have a place in my classroom (respectful: ✓). Many historical fiction books written for adolescents do this. Some do this very powerfully- Refugee by Alan Gratz is on my mind as I write this. His book is respectful, genuine, and meaningful (so my students will definitely have access to it). “Genuine” is vague, but I’m using it here as a criterion of worthwhile historical fiction to mean that the novel isn’t superimposing values that don’t belong to the individuals and groups represented. The emotions, thoughts, and experiences are appropriate to characters’ historical origins (genuine: ✓). I particularly love Refugee because not only is this a piece of historical fiction that seeks to honor and bear witness to the individuals of our world history, it is also a book that guides readers to see and assist the individuals of our own historical moment (meaningful: ✓). Therefore, as a book that can lead my students to experience, evaluate, and take action, his is the kind of book that most definitively belongs in my classroom. Which leads to the role that historical fiction will have in my classroom: helping students to witness and respect members of our history and to take action in our current moment.
Judith Geary said it best: “History shows us a window into our past. Historical fiction can take us by the hand and lead us into that world.” Historical fiction should be about humanizing, individualizing, and seeing, really seeing, the people and circumstances of history.
Thinking about historical fiction and my students, informed in part by a timeline of YA historical fiction books.
As with all genres, there are good books and less-than-good books. However, I think historical fiction of the YA variety may be heavier on the not-so-good books than many other genres. Looking at the bookshelf of YA historical fiction, much of the genre is white-washed. This is deeply concerning and frustrating, as it can send the wrong and devastating message to our students that the individuals of their histories are not worth writing about. All people’s histories are worth writing about on their own terms, and I intend for the books in my classroom to reflect that. My students don’t have to think historical fiction is interesting, but they do need to know that their familial and ethnic histories are valued in literature and in my classroom. Historical fiction can contribute to this goal. I intend to use it as such (recommendations for this would bring me joy!) so that the students who are interested in historical fiction can have access to historical fiction that is respectful, genuine, and meaningful.
Historical fiction should honor the individuals and communities it fictionalizes for it to have a place in my classroom (respectful: ✓). Many historical fiction books written for adolescents do this. Some do this very powerfully- Refugee by Alan Gratz is on my mind as I write this. His book is respectful, genuine, and meaningful (so my students will definitely have access to it). “Genuine” is vague, but I’m using it here as a criterion of worthwhile historical fiction to mean that the novel isn’t superimposing values that don’t belong to the individuals and groups represented. The emotions, thoughts, and experiences are appropriate to characters’ historical origins (genuine: ✓). I particularly love Refugee because not only is this a piece of historical fiction that seeks to honor and bear witness to the individuals of our world history, it is also a book that guides readers to see and assist the individuals of our own historical moment (meaningful: ✓). Therefore, as a book that can lead my students to experience, evaluate, and take action, his is the kind of book that most definitively belongs in my classroom. Which leads to the role that historical fiction will have in my classroom: helping students to witness and respect members of our history and to take action in our current moment.
Judith Geary said it best: “History shows us a window into our past. Historical fiction can take us by the hand and lead us into that world.” Historical fiction should be about humanizing, individualizing, and seeing, really seeing, the people and circumstances of history.
Where do you write?
![Picture](/uploads/1/1/8/9/118941711/published/capture2_1.jpg?1532123547)
Starbucks (Starbuckses?) are a personal favorite writing location, particularly the one pictured.
However, I feel like a fraud, trying to claim I have a singularly special spot where I write. A tidy answer of a tidy space where I write ideas in a way that’s also tidy. Because I have none of those things. I write wherever I can prop up my computer, although preferably somewhere with internet so I can find that pesky perfect word that eludes my fingers as they dash across the keyboard. Perhaps that’s what I should have pictured- my computer. By now, my fingers are perfectly attuned to my sassy little ASUS laptop and clumsily mis-step on any other keyboard even though they’re perfectly graceful on their home turf (home keys?). But even my computer isn’t the just-right answer, because I’ll have an idea and type it up on my phone (usually at the most inconvenient time, like three in the morning. Thanks, brain.) and email it to myself. I’ll sketch essay outlines and reflection ideas on any piece of paper unlucky enough to be near me when inspiration strikes. If there’s a method to my madness, I’m unaware of it.
However, I feel like a fraud, trying to claim I have a singularly special spot where I write. A tidy answer of a tidy space where I write ideas in a way that’s also tidy. Because I have none of those things. I write wherever I can prop up my computer, although preferably somewhere with internet so I can find that pesky perfect word that eludes my fingers as they dash across the keyboard. Perhaps that’s what I should have pictured- my computer. By now, my fingers are perfectly attuned to my sassy little ASUS laptop and clumsily mis-step on any other keyboard even though they’re perfectly graceful on their home turf (home keys?). But even my computer isn’t the just-right answer, because I’ll have an idea and type it up on my phone (usually at the most inconvenient time, like three in the morning. Thanks, brain.) and email it to myself. I’ll sketch essay outlines and reflection ideas on any piece of paper unlucky enough to be near me when inspiration strikes. If there’s a method to my madness, I’m unaware of it.
But I suppose I can stand beside my claim that Starbucks are my writing space because when I really need to hunker down and make myself write, I go to a Starbucks, order enough caffeine to energize an elephant, and type for hours. Drafts usually started out somewhere else, stitched together in those fleeting moments between classes, jobs, and other obligations. I’ll tinker over the course of a few days with all the focus of Dug from Disney’s Up (squirrel!) until I have something that resembles an essay, waiting to be revised into something (hopefully) worth reading. This act of revising into a real paper is when I sit down and write and really pretend to know what I’m doing… often at a Starbucks.
![Picture](/uploads/1/1/8/9/118941711/capture3_1_orig.jpg)
Perhaps you’re wondering why I chose a Stephen quote about reading and writing when I’m talking about where I write. (Perhaps you didn’t notice the quote, or perhaps you simply don’t care. Those are fair, too, but I’ve already decided to explain. Disinterested readers have my blessing to call this post finished right here.) Whenever I write, I usually have books or articles beside me, dogeared and written in (articles usually covered in my colorful notes and notations, my books a little more gently loved), made into tools for the task at hand. And as hard as it is to answer where I write, it’s easy compared to trying to choose a picture for where I read. I read anywhere there’s something to read and light to read by- sitting in the hall on the floor between classes, in the church when it’s empty, on my couch by sunlight or lamp-light, in my bathtub, in the car, at the library- I’m not going to pretend there’s a location that is my “reading place.” The whole world is my reading place.
Week 7, unnumbered blog post, "From the Writer's Desk"
Week 7, unnumbered blog post, "From the Writer's Desk"
“There is hope, even when your brain tells you there isn't.” ― John Green, Turtles All the Way Down
7/16/2018
Week 6, Blog Post 6
Responding to mental health in YA literature, including ideas from Using Literature to Confront the Stigma of Mental Illness, Teach Empathy, and Break Stereotypes, published in the Language Arts Journal of Michigan and Language and Symptoms of Mental Illness in Young Adult Literature.
Responding to mental health in YA literature, including ideas from Using Literature to Confront the Stigma of Mental Illness, Teach Empathy, and Break Stereotypes, published in the Language Arts Journal of Michigan and Language and Symptoms of Mental Illness in Young Adult Literature.
For the most part, the realization I wanted to teach came in these seemingly haphazard moments that I now realize were etched on my heart from the moment they happened. One of those magical moments was the very honest and very necessary conversation with my own high school English teacher about mental health. It was a turning point in my life in more ways than one.
I treasured these moments then and I treasure them even more now. I believe I have found my calling in the relationships, conversations, and support that English teachers especially are positioned to offer students. My own experiences as a high school student continue to motivate me, but I since have found more encouragement in the breadth and depth of YA books I’ve begun to witness this summer.
I treasured these moments then and I treasure them even more now. I believe I have found my calling in the relationships, conversations, and support that English teachers especially are positioned to offer students. My own experiences as a high school student continue to motivate me, but I since have found more encouragement in the breadth and depth of YA books I’ve begun to witness this summer.
All this to say, what does teacher-me have to say about mental health in YA literature?
It has a place in my classroom, although where in my classroom- on my bookshelves, in my desk, book-talked, or taught- depends on the book and the students… which is delightfully vague and not particularly helpful. Nonetheless, I argue that it’s the necessary reality. More than any other genre, books dealing with mental health need to be carefully read and the student(s) carefully known before I’m offering them. This isn’t to encourage the stigma already surrounding mental health, but to make sure a book doesn’t do the exact opposite of what it intends.
However, acknowledging that very prevalent and powerful stigma around mental health, these books will be shelved as realistic fiction (if my shelves are organized by genre at all. We’ll see). Beyond just acknowledging that stigma by books’ physical locations, I want to be intentional about having conversations about mental health and mental health books (including book talks, perhaps many of them by peers) and addressing that stigma. As the articles here (and hundreds others) mention, the number of students with diagnosed mental illnesses is increasing, in part because we are finally starting to understand and talk about mental illness and getting diagnoses. Regardless, as the number of students with diagnosed mental illnesses increases, we’re making progress in the mental health conversation as a society. Consequently, we as teachers are positioned to start talking more about mental health.
Understanding one’s own mental health and empathizing with peers’ mental health is important. (I don’t think too many readers will disagree with that.) Books contribute to students’ ability to empathize. (This is also hard to disagree with. Research heartily supports this position.) The next step seems to announce itself then: we should use books to help students understand their peers and empathize with them regarding mental health and many other topics. The tricky part comes with the how to use books. And which books do we use? (Here’s where disagreement abounds and often rightfully so. Both articles offer excellent book suggestions.) I don’t have an answer. At least not yet. And I’m guessing that even once I do have an answer, it will be frequently changing, responding to new publications, new understanding, and always responding to my students’ needs.
To quote Dr. Bickmore, “YA lit can demonstrate how our language signifies our beliefs” and “YA lit can showcase authentic symptoms of mental illness.” This is part of the empathy thing and therefore is part of having these important and often difficult conversations. YA books offer exercises in empathy in many topics- mental health is just one. YA literature provides foundations for conversations about mental health and many other relevant concerns. YA literature is a resource for encouraging our students as individuals in so many ways.
However, acknowledging that very prevalent and powerful stigma around mental health, these books will be shelved as realistic fiction (if my shelves are organized by genre at all. We’ll see). Beyond just acknowledging that stigma by books’ physical locations, I want to be intentional about having conversations about mental health and mental health books (including book talks, perhaps many of them by peers) and addressing that stigma. As the articles here (and hundreds others) mention, the number of students with diagnosed mental illnesses is increasing, in part because we are finally starting to understand and talk about mental illness and getting diagnoses. Regardless, as the number of students with diagnosed mental illnesses increases, we’re making progress in the mental health conversation as a society. Consequently, we as teachers are positioned to start talking more about mental health.
Understanding one’s own mental health and empathizing with peers’ mental health is important. (I don’t think too many readers will disagree with that.) Books contribute to students’ ability to empathize. (This is also hard to disagree with. Research heartily supports this position.) The next step seems to announce itself then: we should use books to help students understand their peers and empathize with them regarding mental health and many other topics. The tricky part comes with the how to use books. And which books do we use? (Here’s where disagreement abounds and often rightfully so. Both articles offer excellent book suggestions.) I don’t have an answer. At least not yet. And I’m guessing that even once I do have an answer, it will be frequently changing, responding to new publications, new understanding, and always responding to my students’ needs.
To quote Dr. Bickmore, “YA lit can demonstrate how our language signifies our beliefs” and “YA lit can showcase authentic symptoms of mental illness.” This is part of the empathy thing and therefore is part of having these important and often difficult conversations. YA books offer exercises in empathy in many topics- mental health is just one. YA literature provides foundations for conversations about mental health and many other relevant concerns. YA literature is a resource for encouraging our students as individuals in so many ways.
In short, teacher-me thinks we should be using YA books to have conversations with our students about mental health and so much more.
Who doesn't love a good list?
(Because these lists contain spoilers, you'll need to click "read more" to see the lists.)
(Because these lists contain spoilers, you'll need to click "read more" to see the lists.)
"I want my [students] to become readers with my help, not in spite of me." —Stacey Riedmiller
7/9/2018
Week 5, Blog Post 5
Reflecting on what it means to be a teacher who reads based on the ideas in this LLED course and this article by Stacey Riedmiller.
Reflecting on what it means to be a teacher who reads based on the ideas in this LLED course and this article by Stacey Riedmiller.
We're hitting the big questions here: Have my thoughts about what it means to be a teacher who reads shifted because of this course? What have I learned here that I'll use out there in the classroom?
To start, before this class I knew comics had a place in my classroom (and they still do, but now I have even more evidence to disprove the nay-sayers!). However, I also knew that I personally skipped the YA genre for the most part and was woefully underinformed. My mom stuck a Stephen King book in my hands back in fifth grade (I’m not advising or suggesting you do that, in fact, please don’t give young children books very obviously not meant for young children) and from there it was all Stephen King and Dean Koontz and the random classic that I wasn’t really equipped to properly appreciate and then whatever was assigned for class. The exception to my decidedly “adult” reading was James Pattern’s Maximum Ride series (I do suggest you put that series in the hands of your students) and I still think about Maximum Ride. In hindsight, I think my love for those books comes from their appropriateness for who I was as a young person at that moment. Informed educators would agree, I believe. (Look at the takeaways for the last few weeks. There’s a pattern.) All this to say I didn’t (couldn’t?) appreciate YA books the way so many YA books deserve to be appreciated. And I definitely didn’t recognize their value in the classroom. Now I’m ready to fight anyone who doesn’t believe in YA books for their students (okay, maybe not fight, but I’m certainly armed with some intelligent ideas and empirical evidence to make my point thanks to this course).
I’m excited about YA books. (I’m an excitable person in general.) Excitement is so often contagious. (I'm going to capitalize on that contagious quality of excitement with book talks and a "books I'm reading board" [see earlier posts] because being a teacher who reads means being a teacher who reads books that belong in the hands of their students and therefore knows which students' hands they most belong in.) On the other hand, grumbling and resisting are even more contagious. Stacey Riedmiller talks about this, about encouraging kids to read what they want to read and being excited for their choices. If we can’t get excited about reading and about YA books, how can we think our students will be excited? And here’s where a new (new to me) idea comes in: rewarding students isn’t helping them. Some of the educator books discussed earlier talk about this and it made sense, but I Riedmiller drove it home for me. Students need to read for themselves and be excited about reading on their own. Young readers need to motivated by their personal internal reasons, not our superficial external motivators that do nothing to support the bigger picture of supporting lifelong readers. We don’t want to discourage students from reading (grumbling about their choices), but we also don’t want to make students read only because they’re seeking something from us (rewards, grades). We want to support the choices students make and offer suggestions and encouragement as they’re wanted.
But it’s something else from this course that I’m really, really excited about.
The passion I have for representation and discussion and critical thinking about the world around us, especially the world around us that doesn’t look like us or talk like us or think like us, that passion is represented in YA books. The work I want to do in the classroom, the conversations I want to have, they’re already started in the space of YA books. (Just look at “the ‘write’ books” part of this blog. It’s right there at the top right of your screen. There I’ve sorted books by what they’re doing. And for the most part, these are just the books I’ve read this summer- there are so so many more out there!) I am so excited for these books and the ideas and the conversations they’ll ignite in my classroom.
To start, before this class I knew comics had a place in my classroom (and they still do, but now I have even more evidence to disprove the nay-sayers!). However, I also knew that I personally skipped the YA genre for the most part and was woefully underinformed. My mom stuck a Stephen King book in my hands back in fifth grade (I’m not advising or suggesting you do that, in fact, please don’t give young children books very obviously not meant for young children) and from there it was all Stephen King and Dean Koontz and the random classic that I wasn’t really equipped to properly appreciate and then whatever was assigned for class. The exception to my decidedly “adult” reading was James Pattern’s Maximum Ride series (I do suggest you put that series in the hands of your students) and I still think about Maximum Ride. In hindsight, I think my love for those books comes from their appropriateness for who I was as a young person at that moment. Informed educators would agree, I believe. (Look at the takeaways for the last few weeks. There’s a pattern.) All this to say I didn’t (couldn’t?) appreciate YA books the way so many YA books deserve to be appreciated. And I definitely didn’t recognize their value in the classroom. Now I’m ready to fight anyone who doesn’t believe in YA books for their students (okay, maybe not fight, but I’m certainly armed with some intelligent ideas and empirical evidence to make my point thanks to this course).
I’m excited about YA books. (I’m an excitable person in general.) Excitement is so often contagious. (I'm going to capitalize on that contagious quality of excitement with book talks and a "books I'm reading board" [see earlier posts] because being a teacher who reads means being a teacher who reads books that belong in the hands of their students and therefore knows which students' hands they most belong in.) On the other hand, grumbling and resisting are even more contagious. Stacey Riedmiller talks about this, about encouraging kids to read what they want to read and being excited for their choices. If we can’t get excited about reading and about YA books, how can we think our students will be excited? And here’s where a new (new to me) idea comes in: rewarding students isn’t helping them. Some of the educator books discussed earlier talk about this and it made sense, but I Riedmiller drove it home for me. Students need to read for themselves and be excited about reading on their own. Young readers need to motivated by their personal internal reasons, not our superficial external motivators that do nothing to support the bigger picture of supporting lifelong readers. We don’t want to discourage students from reading (grumbling about their choices), but we also don’t want to make students read only because they’re seeking something from us (rewards, grades). We want to support the choices students make and offer suggestions and encouragement as they’re wanted.
But it’s something else from this course that I’m really, really excited about.
The passion I have for representation and discussion and critical thinking about the world around us, especially the world around us that doesn’t look like us or talk like us or think like us, that passion is represented in YA books. The work I want to do in the classroom, the conversations I want to have, they’re already started in the space of YA books. (Just look at “the ‘write’ books” part of this blog. It’s right there at the top right of your screen. There I’ve sorted books by what they’re doing. And for the most part, these are just the books I’ve read this summer- there are so so many more out there!) I am so excited for these books and the ideas and the conversations they’ll ignite in my classroom.
Author
I'm a high school English teacher looking to share with students, parents, and peers some of what I'm learning in the classroom as a teacher.
I wrote the posts from 2018 as an English Education student learning to be a teacher who writes and a teacher who reads.
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