Dilemmas and Discourses

I appreciated the attention which Karen Wohlwend’s article “Dilemmas and Discourses of Learning to Write: Assessment as a Contested Site” drew to the realities of teaching in an actual, student-filled setting. Her discussion of the “surface dilemmas,” or, “clashes between overlapping discourses,” experienced by actual, practicing teachers is a comfort to me (perhaps strangely) as an aspiring educator. Much of the coursework thus far (in all our classes) has been chalk-full with practical, intellectually verifiable ideas printed on white pages, discussed in orderly rooms with highly educated adults, and therefore out of context. Thankfully so, on the one front, for where else can one prepare for the task of teaching students than outside of the context of students – this would have to mean, as I intend it, that when we are “learning” to teach with students, we are actually teaching. On the other hand, though, it is refreshing to read about the reality of putting ideologies and discourses into practice in the classroom where tests loom.

There are two points from this article which I hope to discuss and elaborate upon, namely the issue of navigating the tension between the desire to “provide developmentally appropriate literacy activities” (349) especially as it relates to a situation developing in the state of New Jersey (which I realize I likely out of the scope of interest for many in our cohort), and how does one address discriminatory ideologies and practices in relation to literacy education?

To address the issue of tension between state requirements and appropriate instruction, my question is simply: How does one make choices in this environment and how does this benefit students? In the particular case of New Jersey, where the current Governor has gone on record explaining his plans for tenure changes and where discussion on teacher’s job retention on students’ test scores is buzzing at high pitch.

Basing job retention on student test scores, in one line of thinking, might help to ensure that ineffective and uninterested teachers are no longer allowed to dawdle around in the system. It could help to “cut dead weight.” This, however, is true only in the case where the tests and standards are consistent, developmentally appropriate and student interested. I am confident that I am not the only one to suggest this may not be our current situation. What seems more likely to me is that more teachers will find themselves in Diane’s situation where they feel they must teach in developmentally inappropriate ways in an attempt to retain their jobs.

If it is our goal, as Americans interested in education (as many more seem to be today), to be effective teachers in student-focused learning environments, then this idea of test-based-job-retention is ridiculous. A teacher faced with the choice between giving her students what is best for them as individual learners and keeping her job, I have to imagine, will almost always choose to protect herself first. I would expect every individual, whether an educator or entrepreneur, politician or clergyman, to value their family’s welfare highly, which is why magnifying tests and standards to such a degree seems to be without much sense. I am not against tests or standards, provided they are responsibly crafted and are used as a one barometer or many for determining teacher effectiveness. Otherwise, the tension between what is developmentally appropriate (or just simply “right”) for individual learners and “the test” will only be amplified.

Perhaps less off course than the thought strand above, I found the discussion about the marginalized students in Diane’s classroom intriguing. On the one hand, there are students who are fully engaged and involved in self-led and group learning. However, a student like Jamal is not able to be included at the table because he is not like those students in either ability nor appearance. As a teacher, how does one accommodate for this? Are we to take away the table (or whatever activity or situation would be appropriately analogous) so Jamal is not forgotten, while leaving the other students without this valuable resource? So students are left out socially due to their absence with a specialist, how do we as teachers reintigrate them into the classroom? Is this simply a matter of vigilance on our part (that is, noticing these moments and situations and addressing them immediately—though, this would require more attention than we are likely able to spare), or are the tools and processes which can guide this process?