The Pimp Slap of Knowledge

May 31, 2008

The Great Social Equalizer

is not education. At least not in its current form. As luck would have it, I am instructing in a school that is serving students who were not being served elsewhere. The vast majority of my students are recent immigrants with overwhelmingly limited English-speaking abilities, teenage parents, and individuals who have been through the juvenile justice system after being expelled from “traditional” schools. Thus, the minimum goal of our program is for every student to earn their GED. For student who are over 18, this may be a reasonable alternative. One that may allow them to get their lives on track. Unfortunately, in the process of serving these students, one encounters many exceptional cases, for whom this expectation is not nearly sufficient.

One student, in particular, comes to mind because today we had a heart-to-heart. In the future, I will probably reflect on this conversation as the first one in which I was a legitimate male role model, and went out of my way to be such. This individual is a talented student, and I have known this since my demonstration lesson, when he did the majority of the participation. Gifted in science and mathematics, husky in stature, and with weathered eyes of an journeyman, I could never have guessed him to be fifteen. However, upon finding this out, I was determined to reach him, despite his outbursts of foul language, chronic pacing of the room, and occasional attendance under the influence of Δ9-tetrahydrocannabinol. Nevertheless, his attendance wasn’t that bad, he worked hard probably despite ADHD, or some other cognitive deficit, and he, like all of my students, is a good kid. At fifteen, he certainly had more than enough time to get enrolled in a traditional high school, finish on-time, and continue with his goal of becoming an mechanical engineer. To my chagrin, though, this student has decided to settle for his GED when he turns sixteen. I have almost no doubt that he could pass the GED now, but fortunately, the law prohibits individuals under the age of sixteen from taking the test. Moreover, he just informed me that his fourteen year old girlfriend is pregnant (the reason for the heart-to-heart).

not the great equalizer

During our trip to Starbucks during the last period, we discussed everything: his family, how he came to be at this school, where he was previously, problems he’s had, drugs he’s used, his P.O. (parole officer), how expensive Starbucks is, his internship at an auto shop, and finally, his girlfriend’s pregnancy. Although I have known about this pregnancy since he announced it in class a few days ago, I could not bring myself to have this conversation because all I wanted to say was, “GET A FUCKING ABORTION! WTF?!!!!” However, my peers counseled me against an outright counseling of abortion. Most of my friends actually told me not to speak with him at all. Fortunately, I had the blessing of two other teachers who have him in their classes, and being his only male instructor, I had to step up to the plate. Although the conversation was constructive, and allowed me to get to know him as the insightful individual that he is, I cannot say for certain whether I conveyed my point of view to the extent that he will run with his girlfriend to Planned Parenthood for an abortion, because an explicit endorsement like that probably would have been lost in generational and cultural translation. However, I feel that I may have at least convinced him to visit Planned Parenthood for help in managing the birth of his child. Maybe that will open other doors.

So, my school does not provide the equality that the educational system of the country alleges. In fact, it may even be creating a culture of failure and measured/lowered expectations that is unacceptable, but the necessary result of a pragmatic approach to the education of our students. On the other hand, we do have teachers that care sincerely about the welfare of these students, and while that is not enough to overcome situational factors that have brought them to our doors, it is a start. But the system, as it stands, is no social equalizer, for all of my students will never be lab partners with the next Arthur Holly Compton. They may never take a course from Cornel West. They may not be in a book club with Isabel Allende. That is the essence of equality and equity in access to education. But they could very easily share a restroom with any one of the aforementioned individuals, with only a stall wall in-between. Public amenities such as these are the great equalizers of society. Everyone has to poo. And it always smells like shit.

March 23, 2008

Spring Break 2K8!!!

Filed under: First Impressions — philosophunk @ 3:27 pm
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That’s what I exclaimed when I leaped from my desk Thursday afternoon. It’s been three years since my last Spring Break, and I am taking full advantage of this one – by planning. Yes, I will be working on Spring Break, so don’t expect any lewd stories of inebriated regretful situations. Since I was slightly overwhelmed for the past few days, I will take this opportunity to recap the first two weeks of my tenure.

Day 1: Enter the Instructional Assistant

Imagine a 6′3″ bodybuilder with huge hands. And put a wig on him. This is my instructional assistant. We don’t get along right now, which is probably my fault to some extent, and hers for most. The problem is that she was thrust into the position of teaching the class over the past two months, following the untimely departure of the previous teacher. She was his assistant first, and then she had to teach a class that she is not quite qualified to teach. Add that to the emotional stress surrounding loss of a member of the staff. So I can understand where she’s coming from sometimes.

Unfortunately, when I arrived on Monday, a subtle power struggle emerged within our classrooms. I was not prepared for this, so when she handed the students an exam and made me grade it (still in the room) I did, and I didn’t say anything. And then she invented percentages based on the number of questions incorrect. Really. She didn’t use a calculator, which is fine, because she’s allegedly a “Math Major”. But for some reason, I don’t think that 20/27 is a 95%. But I was not in a position to say anything. Rather, I didn’t have the balls to call her out in front of the class.

All of that is fine. Forgivable, even. We could have had a chat, figured out how to work together best for the benefit of the kids, and salvaged their education together. However, she crossed a boundary from which there is no return. As a result of her action, we will be sworn enemies until the wrong is righted. She entered my tote for writing implements and without asking, removed the only red pen that was present. Maybe if it was a felt tipped pen, I could forgive her. Even if it were a mechanical pencil, or a red dry-erase marker, I could let it slide. But this pen was a member of the Pilot G-2 fine-tipped, assorted-colored, scribe-heaven set. A set which is now incomplete. This, my friends, is a serious affront to our professional relationship.

Days 2-4: Mostly Uneventful

The majority of the week was slow, in that, the students had portfolio presentations to prepare. I did begin my siege on the Instructional Assistant by getting to class on time and starting a lesson on presentations before she could interrupt.

On the plus side of things, I am practicing my Spanish daily, and I actually co-teach a class in Spanish. All of those words that I never thought I’d need, plus some more that I never learned.  Total immersion.  Also, who knew that my sophomoric propensity to look up swear words in the Spanish-English Dictionary would pay off?  The students have grown accustomed to the Instructional Assistant who doesn’t speak Spanish, so they use quite vulgar vocabulary behind her back.  Unfortunately, they don’t realize that my primary goal throughout my twelve years of Spanish instruction was to swear more effectively.

Day 5: Finders Keepers

I made my first confiscation as a teacher today. A student was looking through her backpack for an assignment that we were working on previously. A few papers fell out, and I picked them up to see if they were the missing homework. They were not, but they might be the greatest things in the world. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, may I introduce into evidence, Exhibit A. The defendant had around 12 copies of this for mass dispersion. As I read this list, I felt like I was in a Dave Chappelle sketch. There was no way that anyone would really write all of these words, let alone, in this order. But someone had, and it was my duty to share this priceless jewel of filthy creativity with the world.

March 11, 2008

Crónica de una muerte anunciada

Filed under: The Setup — philosophunk @ 3:57 am
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First day: phenomenal. The good news: I love the school, the staff, the students, the paint and the lint in the carpet. The bad news: the teacher I replaced died. I’m going to let that idea marinate for a bit. Isn’t there something karmically unsound about indirectly benefiting from the death of another individual?

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