Expected, Inspected, & Respected.
"We do not learn from experience … we learn from reflecting on experience."
-John Dewey |
"We do not learn from experience … we learn from reflecting on experience."
-John Dewey |
I've been working in schools as an educational assistant (EA) since 2004 and I've lost count of how many times I've heard students call each other gay. My response to this has evolved over the years. Early on, to my shame, I would sometimes ignore it, telling myself that they weren't trying to be hateful. Other times, I would pull the student aside, get down to their level, and take an empathetic approach, saying something like, "You have sideburns. How would you feel if people called each other 'sideburns' when they wanted to call each other stupid?" Students often responded by saying, "I wouldn't care." The older I get, the angrier it makes me to hear this kind of ignorance repeated in classrooms and hallways. I'm not angry with the students as much as with the insidious culture of casual homophobia and bigotry that was here long before they were. It perpetuates itself through off colour jokes, insults, and endorsements in the media. For instance, Community is one of my favourite TV shows, but scenes like this: give students implicit permission to continue thinking that it's an acceptable and humorous term to use when insulting their friends. It's not. If kids continue to mindlessly parrot casual hate by their peers, older siblings, and Youtube celebrities without being challenged, the cycle of bigotry is allowed to continue; it's easy for a way of acting to become a way of thinking. I decided a few years ago not to let it slide anymore. I also thought that this particular infraction deserved a categorically different response from things like running in the halls or being loud in the library. Instead of getting down on their level, I would tower over them and quietly, between my teeth, seeming barely able to contain my fury, say something like, "I don't think you realize the number of people you're hurting when you say hateful stuff like that. I don't think you're trying to be hateful, I just don't think you know how many people here have cousins, or brothers, or sisters, or friends who are gay and feel just awful right now because of you. You don't know who might be gay and feel like they have to hide it because of people who say those kinds of things. I don't want to hear that kind of thing from you again." The emotional delivery of the message and the fact that it's not a question usually means I don't get any snarky back talk. I had a feeling that I would eventually hear someone call one of their classmates gay during my practicum and was prepared to take that simmering anger speech and turn up the volume to deliver an impactful message to the whole class at the same time, instead of having to deliver the speech multiple times to different individuals. On November 28th, I had the opportunity to try this tactic and it definitely had an impact. My cooperating teacher (CT) was away for the day and, as it was early in the practicum block, some of the students were pushing boundaries to see what they could get away with. When a student (the same one who gave me problems during the snow ball fight writing activity) exclaimed, "That's so gay!", I let him and the entire class know, in a booming and angry voice, that homophobia was absolutely unacceptable in my classroom. The room went silent as 26 pairs of eyes turned from their writing workshop activities to watch me shout at a boy who tried unsuccessfully to defend himself against my anti-homophobic tirade; I would not hear his attempted explanation of why it was ok for him to say that in class. By the end of it, the class (and probably the class next door) knew exactly where I stood on the issue of using the word "gay" in a derogatory manner. I'd like to think that this was an effective intervention but the truth is that I really don't know. According to Chip and Dan Heath, my simple, unexpected, and emotional message would have a high probability of sticking in the brain. However, I don't know if it actually changed any minds or if it just means students will be more careful about how they speak around me in the future. I also don't know if the damage I did to any relationships with my students outweighed the good it may have done. All I know is that I would like everyone, and Hollywood in particular, to follow jomny sun's lead and leave ironic bigotry behind. Let me know what you think is the best way to deal with this problem. Is it sometimes a good idea to yell or make an example of someone in front of the class? I think this incident was a big part of the reason why I continued to have problems with this particular student throughout the rest of my practicum. Was damaging our student-teacher relationship worth it? Did it change any minds or did it simply change his behaviour? Does that even matter? If it's easier to act your way into right thinking than to think your way into right action, is simply stopping the offensive action a win? What strategies have worked well for you in your classroom? Leave a comment below to share wisdom or your own experiences with casual bigotry.
7 Comments
In my career as an EA, I have heard students call each other “gay” many times and I will admit that I have at times ignored it. I’m embarrassed that while I was new to the job, I had a tendency to avoid conflict and I would let that kind of language go unchallenged as long as I thought that the offender didn’t have malicious intent. However, it bothers me more now than it used to because I have come to strongly believe that there is no excuse for using part of someone’s identity as a pejorative. I agree with Ryan Caster when he says, “By allowing students to call each other or things ‘gay,’ we send a message to the class - that it is okay to insult someone or something at the expense of a group of people. The classroom thus becomes unsafe for homosexual students, and students do not learn to examine their prejudices” (69). I believe it is important for schools to be a safe space for everyone and in the interest of making it so, it is well worth my discomfort with confrontation. Reading Caster’s article reinforced this attitude for me and encouraged me to take further action during my practicum on January 18th. Let me explain. Before the winter break, the class was working in groups of three on writing collaborative pourquoi stories on Google Docs during Language Arts. I was at the front of the room at the smartboard, checking on their progress as they typed. I finished reading one group’s story and switched tabs to read the next, but instead of seeing a pourquoi story I saw, in 72 point font, the sentence, “Joseph is gay!” I was immediately angry. I stood up, faced the offending group and said in my sternest teacher voice, “You need to erase that right now. That kind of language is unacceptable in this classroom and I don’t ever want to see it again.” The classroom went absolutely silent, the phrase was erased, and eventually, work continued as before. My intention was to take that group of boys aside later in the day when we were all calm and had had a little distance from the incident to have a conversation about why I reacted so strongly to those three words. I wanted them to know that their words, “have meaningful consequences, that can as easily be unintentional as intentional,” and that, “people must be thoughtful and careful in their use of language” (67-68). Unfortunately, in the busy hustle of the school day, it slipped my mind. Then came the weekend and by Monday I figured that too much time had passed to bring it up again. I decided to let it go. I started to rethink that decision when I read this sentence: “Sometimes addressing an incident a few days after it occurs communicates just how important it is” (68). I was further convinced when I read, “it would be wrong to make a habit out of ignoring teachable moments” (69). I was absolutely certain I would revisit this incident after reading, “...what would be the use of reflection if the theoretical never informed one’s practice?” (69). He was absolutely right. So, on January 18th, about a month after the incident, I asked the boy who had written the offensive phrase, to come and talk to me in the classroom’s library space. He immediately claimed that he didn’t write it (he did), but my purpose was not to conduct a witch hunt, my purpose was to turn a transgression into a teachable moment. I called the other possible suspect to join in the discussion as well. I think the boys, and the curious folks with desks near the library space learned a lot about how, “associating gay with negativity is oppressive, even if it is unintentionally so” (70). I believe they will choose their words more carefully next time and not just because an adult might yell at them but because it’s the right thing to do.
I was slightly nervous about having this discussion, but it went so well, I won’t hesitate to have the conversation with the entire class next time. When I have a class of my own, I want to do as Caster suggests and have a proactive discussion about this kind of language early in the school year by involving the school’s Gay-Straight Alliance. And if the school has no Gay-Straight Alliance, perhaps use that as an opportunity to start one. |
David Wiebe
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