Soma Sehemu ya 1 kwanza ikiwa bado hujasoma: http://www.zmag.org/sustainers/content/2006-12/12peters.cfm
Note: As I explained in my previous commentary (see “Snapshots from School”, http://www.zmag.org/sustainers/content/2006-12/12peters.cfm, December 12, 2006) our family’s relationship to schooling is unusual. Both our kids have homeschooled – in a mostly unschooling fashion – for most of their lives. Our shock at what we saw happening when our oldest daughter started attending school might seem wide-eyed and naïve to many. I’m sure it is. But perhaps there are some lessons in it. That said, this piece is written with apologies to those kids who don’t have the option to go to school if they want to and to those who don’t have (or don’t think they have) the choice to leave. Also, apologies to the many teachers and administrators out there who continually reach out to kids despite institutional norms that pressure them to do the opposite.
“Dealing with schools was the worst part of parenting,” a friend recently said. Her words rang in my head as my partner and I tried to support our 15-year old through her first term at a large public exam school in Boston. School was quite literally getting in the way of our relationship, and it was getting in the way of her growth and well-being. She was tuning out and turning off; and the more we coaxed her to hang in there, the more she got bashed. We couldn’t see any way forward for her except to get used to it. Or not.
Sehemu mbaya zaidi ya uzazi, kwa maoni yangu, ni kujadili shinikizo la kutafuta suluhisho za kibinafsi (ambazo angalau zitafaidi watoto wako) kwa hamu na haja ya kupata suluhisho la pamoja (ambalo hatimaye litatunufaisha sisi sote).
Je, unamsaidiaje mtoto ili apate ujuzi anaohitaji ili aendelee kuwa shuleni - wakati ujuzi huo wenyewe ni wa kupinga kijamii, kudhoofisha na kukandamiza? Kwa miezi mitatu ya kwanza ya mwaka wa shule, ilionekana kuwa kile Zoe alihitaji zaidi ni kuweza kufanya kile alichoambiwa bila kuwa na wasiwasi kuhusu ikiwa ni sawa, haki, au busara; ili kuepusha vurugu aliyoshuhudia; na kutoa wito kwa stamina na ngozi nene kuishi. Ingawa labda kuna wakati na mahali pa sifa hizi zote, inaonekana kuwa haina mantiki katika hali ya kupita kiasi (ikiwa lengo lako ni elimu) kukandamiza uwezo na hamu ya kufikiria ya watoto, kuwaingiza kwenye vurugu, na kuwa. kuwafundisha kuichukua. Si jambo lisilo na mantiki hata hivyo, kama lengo lako ni kuwafunza wachangiaji wa siku zijazo kwa taasisi za kazi, burudani na utawala kama zinavyofafanuliwa kwa sasa. Unaweza pia kuanza mapema kuwazoea tabia na mikazo ambayo watapata katika siku zijazo.
Tulijaribu mbinu tofauti za kumsaidia Zoe kupata alichotaka kutoka shuleni. Alifanya urafiki mzuri; akawa mwanachama wa Gay/Straight Alliance; aligundua kupendezwa na biolojia - kwa hivyo kulikuwa na sababu kwa nini alitaka kuwa huko. Tulimsaidia kujaribu kusawazisha mateso kupitia sehemu nyingine na kuning'inia ndani ili kupata sehemu alizotaka. Lakini hatimaye usawa haukuwezekana kufikia. Angalau kwa ajili yake. Mnamo Desemba 18, 2006, nilimwacha Zoe kutoka shuleni. Mchakato ulikuwa wa kufundisha.
At one point, we sat in the office for about twenty minutes. During that short time, we witnessed the “disciplinarian” (let’s call him Mr. D) deal with several children. One kid – maybe a sophomore – was brought in to be reprimanded for skipping class. During the reprimand, the kid barely made eye contact with Mr. D. He basically looked like he was having an out-of-body and out-of-mind experience – which may have been a most effective escape route as Mr. D’s apparent goal was to shame him, humiliate him, and threaten to take him off the ice hockey team.
There was no respect for privacy. The whole “conversation” happened in front of anyone who happened to be in the office. There was no attempt to find out what was going on with the kid or to explore why he wasn’t going to class. Mr. D did not even seem particularly concerned about the fact that the kid was basically acting like a zombie. The whole charade seemed like a ritual enactment of the essence of mandatory education today. Mr. D represents institutional authority, the enforcer of the rules, the wielder of the carrot and the stick. He makes it clear that he doesn’t care if the kid is *learning* so long as the kid is *showing up.*
After he left, a younger kid came in who apparently was not so alienated from authority and still retained some idea that you could get support navigating difficult situations in school. He was being bullied by kids in the lunchroom and he came in asking for help. Mr. D talked to him the same way he talked to the other kid – his words and his tone moving along the narrow spectrum between shaming, blaming, and humiliating. “What are you doing in here talking to me? I don’t want to see you back here. We all have problems sometimes. Get back to class.”
Violence, bullying, and mean behavior are expected and almost condoned in this way. It’s an institutional norm. Get used to it. In Zoe’s English class one day, three students walked in during the middle of the period to harass a girl who had supposedly stolen something from one of them. The teacher maintained a perfectly blank expression, did not engage the students, and called security. I don’t blame her for not getting in the middle of what could have turned into a physical brawl. Eighty to 100 teachers are assaulted each year in Boston public schools, usually when they are trying to break up a fight (according to the “Boston Globe,” 12/29/06). But after security came and removed the players in this particular episode, the teacher simply returned to the lesson. “Turn to page 56 of `Jane Eyre’.” There was no attempt to process what had happened or make sense of the experience.
How did the kids in the class respond? “We were just laughing,” said Zoe. I can imagine the nervous laughter that results from being trapped in a place where stuff like that happens, where it’s considered normal, where everyone proceeds as if it hadn’t happened, and where you take note for future reference of how these things are handled. An underlying but powerful current of violence is practically palpable.
Sio tu dhahiri katika ukweli kwamba polisi walinyang'anya silaha 577 kutoka kwa watoto wa shule ya umma ya Boston mwaka jana au kwamba watoto wengi wanasema wanahofia usalama wao, lakini ni wazi katika njia hizi zingine zisizo za hila pia. Darasa linapovurugika na mzozo unatishiwa katikati ya darasa la 9 la Kiingereza, na mwalimu hata asiandikishe tukio katika uso wake au mazungumzo yake, somo la kipindi hicho ni wazi: ndivyo ilivyo. Izoee.
While waiting in the office, I had the opportunity to talk to Zoe’s art teacher – the one who gave her an F on a project (and then supposedly threw it away) because she had neglected to list the section number at the top of the page. “What was the idea of failing her for what was just a slight bureaucratic error?” I asked.
“Well,” he explained. “I have to sign in every morning when I get to work. If I don’t, I get in trouble. She needs to learn how to follow the rules.”
“Okay,” I said, “Leaving aside whether art class is the appropriate place to teach future workplace rules, why did you throw the piece away? Don’t you think that sends the wrong message – like the art itself doesn’t matter?”
“Oh,” he answered. “I didn’t really throw it away. I just threatened to do that.” He laughed. “I tell all the kids that, but I don’t really throw them away.”
Charades zaidi, kwa maneno mengine, kama kile kilichotokea katika ofisi na nidhamu. Mtoto wa kwanza ambaye alikuja kumuona Bwana D hakulazimika kusikiliza; ikabidi tu atoe mwili wake ofisini ili kitendo cha kusikiliza kiweze kuigwa. Mtoto wa pili alileta zaidi ya nafsi yake ofisini, lakini akajifunza somo muhimu kwamba hilo lilikuwa kosa. Ikiwa utajiletea nafsi yako yote, basi nafsi yako yote inafedheheshwa.
Sio kwamba wako shuleni kujifunza au kukua. Ni kwamba wapo kufuata script. Zaidi ya hayo, ni sawa - hata inayopendekezwa na inayotarajiwa - kwamba watoto hufanya hivyo kwa mtindo kama wa zombie. Ninapomhoji mwalimu kwa kuchafua kazi ya mtoto wangu, maneno yake pekee ya faraja ni kwamba hakutengwa. Ninapaswa kujisikia vizuri kwa sababu anafanya hivyo kwa watoto wote.
As we were leaving, the bell rang. “Uh oh,” said Zoe. There was a two-second pause during which there was silence, and then mayhem as doors flew open and kids began sprinting in all directions down the hallways. We pressed ourselves up against the wall as the kids flew by. They had three minutes to do whatever they needed to do plus get to their next class on time. Three minutes is not enough time to get to your locker, stow books from your last class, get books for your next class, use the bathroom, or check in with a friend. It’s barely enough time to traverse the enormous expanse of the school. It’s certainly not enough time to change gears from Latin to geometry or history to gym or to reflect on what you’re doing or to think. It’s arbitrary regimentation, and it doesn’t make sense for children or probably for any living things.
Lakini kila mtu anafanya hivyo kwa sababu ni kanuni na kwa sababu usipofanya hivyo, itabidi uende kumwona Bw. D., na kucheza-igizaji katika sifa ya utawala (wake) na utii (wako), ambao, ukidhani wewe. kuwa na rasilimali za kufanya hesabu, inachukua nguvu zaidi kuliko kuharakisha na kufika darasani kwa wakati.
Dropping out isn’t the answer for everyone. The advantages and disadvantages of staying in school might balance out for some in favor of staying. I wrote a number of years ago in my review of the “Teenage Liberation Handbook” by Grace Llewlyn (http://www.zmag.org/sustainers/content/2000-03/20peters.htm) that it takes a certain amount of privilege to walk away from school. I am grateful that we were able to step outside the institution, but I’m appalled about what we left behind.
Zaidi ya hayo, masuluhisho ya kibinafsi, kama yale ambayo familia yetu ilipata, hayaanzi kushughulikia hali ya kitaasisi ya tatizo. Kwa hili tunahitaji suluhisho la pamoja. Mwaka jana, wanafunzi wa shule ya upili ya Boston walipanga kulazimisha bodi ya shule kubatilisha sera yake ya kuwafungia nje wanafunzi waliofika shuleni wakiwa wamechelewa. Ikiwa wanaweza kujipanga ili waingizwe, wanaweza kujipanga ili watolewe nje au watoe maoni yao kuhusu kile kinachotokea ndani. Wanaweza kusema kwa wingi kwamba wanakataa kushiriki katika charade tena. Kitu pekee ambacho kinakuza mamlaka ya Bw. D, baada ya yote, ni makubaliano ya kijana kuwasilisha mwili wake kwa ajili ya kusikiliza kwa kuiga. Ana uwezo wa kukataa kufanya hivyo - lakini itasajiliwa tu ikiwa atapanga na wengine.
Wafanyakazi hufanya hivyo wanapogoma. Wanajeshi hufanya hivyo wanapokataa kupigana. Wanafunzi wanaweza kufanya hivyo pia. Kila mtu ana haki ya kupata elimu yenye maana, yenye kuwezesha katika mazingira yasiyo ya ukatili na yasiyo ya kukandamiza. Jukumu la kufanya hilo litokee ni letu sote.
Ili kutatua matatizo mengi yanayotukabili leo, tunahitaji kila moja ya akili hizo kuzingatiwa, kupendezwa, kuwepo, na kushughulikiwa. Hiyo ni sababu moja tu (zipo nyingi) za kuwa na shule za kibinadamu zaidi, za uhuru ambazo husaidia watoto kutumia akili zao badala ya kuwafundisha kuzima.
Stay tuned for Part 3 – “Snapshots from Unschool.”