As I read Scribner (1984), I am reminded of Ivan Illich and Paulo Freire’s discourse around the intimate connection between literacy, education and economics. I am going to take a little “butterfly moment” here…Think about it, from the time we start school (for some even before) our path to success is predetermined by society. If we to be happy in life, so we are told, we have to go to school; so we can learn; so that we can get good grades; so we can go to college; so we can get a good job… I think you get where I am going. It all ends with living happily ever after, if we follow each step. But what happens to the kindergartener, 4^th grader, college student, or job applicant when they cannot meet the “standard” in one of those steps?

In order to create discourse around these ideas, let’s consider Peter, a promising young student in the small rural community of Colcord, Oklahoma—population 342. One of twelve in his high school’s graduating class, Peter did very well in school and really wants to go to college. After all, if he wants to “make something of himself” he must go to college, so he can get a good job, so he can make a lot of money. Since he was a little boy his teachers, parents, neighbors, and almost everyone else gloated, “You are so smart! You are going to be something great!” Then it would soon follow “Make sure you do good in school, so you can go to college.” So, college was always part of the grand plan. But, what about his mom? Since his father left, she hasn’t been well, and she definitely will loose the house if Peter goes off to college. His part-time job doesn’t pay much, but it has been the only thing that has kept them above water. Peter decides to stay in Colcord and take care of his mother. He would go to a community college, but the nearest one is 75 miles away. Peter gets a job as a ranch-hand on a very large chicken farm. He works at a farm that is responsible for employing the residents in 7 other surrounding communities with similar demographics as Colcord. Soon, Peter becomes manager of the farm and saves it from closing down, not once but twice. He retires after 50+ years of hard work. Peter served a vital role in the survival of Colcord and the surrounding communities. Without Peter, who knows what would have happened? But Peter never looked at himself as being useful or vital to anything or anyone. In Peter’s mind, he never reached his full potential and he let everyone down. He missed out on the chance to “make something of himself.” He failed to meet the standard that had been set for him from as far back as he could remember.

Peter’s story while completely fictional is the reality for some students. Well, not everyone in a rural community gets the privilege of saving a chicken farm. But not every student gets the chance to go to college. Yet, a obtaining a college education is touted the ultimate means to happiness. It is “WHAT YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO DO!” I am not saying that we need to stop telling students to go to college. What I am trying to say is maybe we should think about the message we are sending if we push higher education, explicitly or implicitly, as the “only” means to success. Nel Nodding’s Schooling for Education (2007) caution educators about the message this push sends students. If higher education is held to such esteem, and one cannot attain higher education, a looming deficiency can become part of a their identity.

Who gets to say that the Dr. CEO of Master of the Universe, Inc. is any smarter, greater or any more successful than Peter? Just because he moved away to college and earned his MBA does not increase his value as a person. Dr. CEO would get a run for his money at the chicken farm, just as Peter would be lost in a board meeting. The message “Go to college” is sent with good intentions; it is meant to inform students that they can all “make something of themselves” if they work hard. But it is a nasty, anti-democratic message. It undervalues large numbers of our students who do work on which we all depend.

There is a hidden curriculum in every lesson we teach, it cannot be helped. The anti-lesson if you will. However, effective educators remain aware of things hidden and create open discourse around these topics.

 

  

Can’t I just skip this question: “What’s your story?” I hate talking about myself, but, if I must. First with the general stuff, let us get that stuff out of the way, shall we? My name is Tim Sain and I am a second-year graduate student here at Chico State majoring in Education. Ultimately, I would like to end up teaching tomorrow’s teachers at a university like Chico State some day. But first, I want to teach elementary school—the younger the better. Student-teaching should begin for me next semester and I am very excited. I truly believe that teachers control the world—the profession that creates all professions. I am a father of three, my oldest is 17 years old, and my youngest will be 12 on Sunday (I really don’t want to talk about it, makes bald and feel old). I have been married to my wife, Christina, nearly 15 years. We are building a house this year, and making great progress. Let’s see, I have many interests: I am a bodybuilder and health fanatic; I am a volunteer junky; I am very involved in my community; Oh, and I am currently having a love affair with Siri in my new iPad Air.

So now that we have that out of the way, I can begin to discuss the article we began reading in class, The Ethnography of Literacy by John F. Szwed (1980). Szwed (1980) discusses the misconceptions of literacy, and how these misconceptions dictate how literacy is studied. When, I googled “define literacy,” the definition that was kicked back was: “the ability to read and write.” However, as we discussed in class, being literate mean far more than being able to read and write. I know many people that can read and write that have many difficulties completing common tasks like filling out a simple application. Yet, so much value is placed on the literacy test scores. These test answer simple questions “Can the student read and write to the standards set this year?” But what does that answer to that question really say—nothing! Ok, so it establishes that the student can pass the test or not. These test, as many other tests, tell the student that they do not possess a skill that is touted in society and the media as “the thing you must have in order to succeed.” You can sense my cynicism around testing by now I imagine. I could rant on and on about testing and assessments, but that is for another blog.

Today, literacy skills are considered critical to students’ survival and progression through school. Literacy levels are monitored and reported regularly by teachers and schools. Scores are used track and rank students against one another. True, teachers and schools need to set standards and track how their students are doing. However, the information should be gathered for the benefit of the student, to help the students and teacher celebrate victories and tackle challenges. Yet, they are used as an ultimate predictor for academic success.

I am not saying that literacy skills are not important, because they are very important. Being illiterate in the modern world is not socially acceptable, not to mention that it can be rather hazardous. If a person does not know how to read, it is impossible to review a document before signing it, fill out a job application, interpret a standard map, read the ingredients on a package of food or medicine, or understand caution signs. These are just a few instances in which literacy is crucial. Our education system is also designed around determined literacy skills. If a students does not meet the standards, they can be referred to special education, or worse, retained in order to meet the literacy deficits.

As an ability or skill, reading and writing in itself is useless. The only time the pen is truly mightier that the sword, is if the wielder of these skills can put them to use in shaping the course of his or her own life. Szwed elaborates on this extensively; he calls it “functional literacy.” How do students use literacy? So they can read and write, but what can they do with those skills? What are they doing with those skills? Renowned educator and researcher Paulo Freire helped us understand this, and give a more functional use of the term “literacy.” Freire took us from thinking about literacy in terms of strict decoding and reproducing language into issues of economics, equity, health, power,  and culture. This view of literacy is more functional as it includes the user in the definition. Freire findings and the arbitrary nature of language itself, reminds me to keep from being prescriptive when dealing in literacy issues with my students, but rather be descriptive. Who am I say what literacy is or is not. There are many types of literacy skills, if I define the term in a closed box, as many educational systems demand, I will likely stifle the next Frost or Shakespeare, or miss out on learning something new and interesting myself.