Final Blog: A World in Which We Question
A World in Which We Question
“Stop expecting yourself to know everything. The progression of thought may or may not be eternal. And so as of now, only one thing is known; and that is that questions lead to answers, which lead to more questions, which lead to more answers, which lead to more questions.” – Teal Swan
What I know so far is that I ask a lot of questions. And with each question I ask I follow with another question and another and another. I get to the point where my questions leave me in complete frustration and despair. I pay all this money for an education. Shouldn’t someone—anyone—be giving me some answers here? Not leaving me feel like I am the only person in the room that feels like I am drowning in a pile of question marks.
I sat down to think about my questioning mind. And how throughout my entire time in education I have always felt haunted by my thoughts. I want to know things. I want to be an expert. I want to be seen as someone with authority and meaning in the world. I don’t want to be a person who has to ask questions all the time. I want to hand people the answer…
In short. I think I simply want to feel like I have some form of control over my life.
But I am beginning to realize that having questions equates to having control over my life. Questioning means I am free. Free to think. Free to explore. Free to feel overwhelmed. Free to converse with others around me. Free.
Having questions is liberating.
Having answers is dictatorship.
And I want to be a teacher. Not a dictator.
***
“What was driving me a little crazy was that I that I wasn’t telling them how to think anything. The thing I liked was that they came out of it thinking that they better think some more because they really didn’t think it through. Eventually, if you are going to be literate, they have to come to the place where they say that ‘I have to struggle with this text a little bit to find out what it was saying to me’.” – Henry Jenkins, Reading in a Participatory Culture
My biggest breakthrough in my college career was working with Henry Jenkin’s Reading in a Participatory Culture. This book not only started me on the process of questioning literacy, but it challenged me to think about why I want to be an English teacher.
The concept of teaching seemed so basic to me when growing up. Go to school. Learn some stuff. Gain authority and expertise. Go back to school (this time as a teacher). Regurgitate some stuff. Really simple, right?
If anything, I have learned in this class that I could not have been any more wrong. Henry Jenkins suggests, “teachers need to demystify the concept of expertise…a much more empowering stance is to recognize many different forms of expertise and to encourage students to identify both what they know better than anyone else and how their knowledge may gain value when placed in dialogue with other kinds of expertise.”
I had to really dig, think, and question. I eventually came to the horrifying conclusion…
I loved reading when I was growing up. I despised writing and English classes. I adored math and science. Senior year in high school my English teacher exposed that I was excellent at English (at least in the context of analyzing a piece of literature). And in the truest sense she saved my life. She opened my eyes to the fact that I had worth—that I was good at something in this world.
I decided to be an English teacher.
Because I wanted to save students.
And because I wanted to prove to people that I was good at something. That I knew a lot about something. That I held the authority. That I had some value.
Henry Jenkins stopped me in my tracks, slapped me in my face, and told me to wake the hell up.
If those were going to be my reasons for teaching I needed to change my major—immediately.
Jenkins made me realize that teaching is not making people realize that I love books, but to get students to understand their own literacy. Teaching is not a means to an end of earning money and getting married and having kids and living my American dream. Teaching is beyond personal gain—it is more than my wanting to feel like a hero and an expert.
Teaching is changing how students view themselves and the world around them. Teaching is questioning and bettering society. Teaching is politics and reform. Teaching is continuing to learn and fail and to allow others to learn and fail. Teaching is creating a community and culture. Teaching is to “ensure that all students have access to the skills and technologies they need to meaningfully participate in the culture around them.” Teaching is to create a world full of humans who can change the community, the society, and the world we live in. Teaching is a mutual agreement to learn. To connect. To grow. To engage. To participate. To change.
Jenkins suggests that these mutual agreements can be accomplished through literacy. Students can learn how to participate in cultures and in our society if we as teachers learn how to shift how we understand education and literacy.
We must learn how to ask questions—without the fear of feeling inadequate or unskilled.
As teachers we must ask how we can give our students control of their education. We must ask our students to take charge of what they read and write. To participate and engage with others to question and mold what they learn. To relay what they learn from a piece of literature into a foreign medium as a way of participating and developing. We must ask our students to question their own learning and the words they read and write.
Then we must continue to ask what it means to be literate. What is working and not working? What are students learning? Are students engaging with the world in which they live? Do students recognize and value their unique literacies? What are students gaining? How is what we are teaching benefiting students and society? Are we creating a participatory culture? Are we allowing students to grow? Are we letting students see their own value and sense of expertise? Are we teaching students about themselves and the world around them with what they read and write? Are we teaching students how to learn? Are we teaching students to question? Are we teaching students that to question is to grow, engage, learn, and advocate?
***
“Critical literacy, as I illustrate in this article, is the act of approaching texts wearing a set of eyeglasses through which the reader examines and questions the familiar and the comfortable…is proposes that multiple perspectives exist, many of which contest the sovereignty of author and text. Most important, critical literacy lend itself to social action and the creation of a better, more just world.” – Ryan T. Bourke, “First Graders and Fairy Tales: One Teacher’s Action Research of Critical Literacy”
I have learned that literacy can connect itself with a variety of topics—games, play, making, identity, hip hop, fairy tales. Through my journey to find the connection between literacy and fairy tales—beyond the obvious fact we read and write fairy tales—I ran across first grade teacher Ryan Bourke.
Bourke brought to my attention two topics.
One. Critical literacy.
Two. The formation of identity through literacy.
Bourke used fairy tales as a way of teaching six and seven year olds skills in critical literacy. He wanted his students to question the fairy tales most people grew up reading. He wanted his students to think differently about what they read and to be able to discuss all the potential different meanings fairy tales had…
How does the troll feel in the Three Billy Goats Gruff?
A question most people do not have an answer for because the author never told us. Because why does it matter what the bad guy feels?
By using critical literacy we teach students more than simply being able to read and write. We teach them that being literate is not all that matters. We teach students to think. We teach them the power of questioning. We teach them to view the world in a variety of lenses and to think in a variety of perspectives. We teach them to question the author’s authority.
We teach them how to be valuable human beings and members of society. We teach them to be kind and thoughtful. We teach them to think for themselves and have a voice.
Bourke also explored the idea that what we read defines how we view ourselves and others around us. He explored the concept of dark versus light in fairy tales and discovered that his first grade students automatically equated darkness with evilness and ugliness and lightness with goodness and beauty—without question. Whether there was a character portrayed as dark by words or by illustrations, they were automatically seen as bad by his students.
Bourke feared the fact his student did not question this concept.
How did his students of varying skin tone see themselves?
Did his students with fair skin always view themselves as good and beautiful?
At this point Bourke brought in disruptive renditions of fairy tales in which dark was good and beautiful. And with these renditions Bourke taught his first graders how to question. How to stray from the path. How to question the author’s authority. How to question what they read. How to question what it means to be beautiful. To question their society. To question their literacy—without them even knowing they were questioning such “adult” matters.
Bourke’s first graders made me realize that literacy is more than reading and writing. And teaching English is more than simply teaching English. It is helping students to question the world around them. It is helping them construct how they think about themselves and the world around them. It is teaching survival skills.
***
“A tweet could be seen, then, not as a paragon of the many potential horrors of student writing, but as a model of writerly concision. In composing their Twitter-essay, I have students proceed through all the steps I would have them take in writing a traditional academic essay, including brainstorming, composing, workshopping, and revising. I also have them consider and research their audience, the Twitter members engaged in discussion around a particular hashtag. Finally, I have them work dynamically with the Tweets of their peers, responding to them on Twitter and close-analyzing them in class. I ask the students to consider their word-choice, use of abbreviation, punctuation, etc.” – Jesse Stommel, “The Twitter Essay”
This class has enlightened me to the idea of using technology in the classroom and the concept of digital literacy. I have continued to be resistant to the idea of technology in general and even more resistance to using it in the classroom—what was its value anyway? Yes, we can Google anything and find in instantaneous answer—accurate or not—but what could this possible mean in terms of literacy.
Several of our class readings and our book clubs opened my eyes to the idea of technology within the classroom and how that relates to the idea of questioning.
Along with my realization that teaching is not about me and not about my being an expert, I also realized that my views on technology were extremely selfish. I myself am not an expert in digital literacy. I myself love reading books and writing with paper and pen. But what about my future students that are growing up in a world of technology? They identity themselves by their online persona, keep in contact via text, and understand their world to be filled with technology.
If technology is so prominent in the daily lives of children then why should teachers not take this to their advantage? Why should we not teach students literacy through a medium they use on a day to day basis—and will most likely continue to use throughout their entire lives?
Students continually consume and create literacy through technology. Why are we not teaching them how to better consume and create? Why are we not using a medium they already understand to teach what books and classic pen and paper writing can teach them? Like critical literacy.
I believe we should and can teach students how to critically consume what they find via technology. They should know how to question the author. Question the validity and authority. And come to their own conclusions.
I believe we should and can teach students how to create/compose via technology. Like composing a twitter essay. They must learn how to compose in an effective, thoughtful manner. They should learn how to be questioned, just as they should question what others compose.
I believe we should and can use technology to help our students create their self-identity. Question how they view themselves and how others will view them. In a time of such access and communication it is important they recognize the importance of what they compose/create and how that is reflective of their sense of self and identity.
Instead of resisting technology because of our own fears and desires, we should embrace technology as a tool by which we can effectively and positively teach students in a time that is overrun we technology. We should teach them to be critical, thoughtful, and creative. We should teach them how to be part of a participatory culture.
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I am left with more questions than answers. I feel as though I know nothing at all, but maybe that is the best, more humble position I can be in at this point in my life. This class has formed a solid foundation about literacy and teaching that I will be able to construct, tear down, and build back up again.
I entered this class expecting to learn a lot about literacy.
Instead I have learned more about myself than anything else.
I have learned to question myself. To question others. To question everything.
I have learned to be humble and open-minded.
I have learned that I cannot know everything.
I have learned that teaching is so much more.
I have learned that literacy in not stagnant and is not simple.
I have learned that to question is to be alive and have freedom.
I have learned.