Thursday, January 26, 2012

Inner-City Learning

(Continued from Tuesday . . . )
In the fall of 1968, the Dayton school district assigned me to an inner-city grade school. I can’t remember how many seventh-grade students were in the classroom I entered so nervously. In my mind, however, I still see the rows of students staring at me. A white teacher.
            The first weeks were rocky. The students tested me to see who would lead them that year. Riotous noise frequently erupted from the room as the students acted out their frustration with someone who knew nothing of being black or poor.
            One student in particular tried to take over the classroom. In my teaching career I’d encountered this kind of rebellion only once, eight years before. I’d made first vows on January 1, 1960. The next day the Mother Superior sent me to Omaha, to a seventh-grade classroom in which the fifty students called themselves “Nazi Storm Troopers.” They intended to take over the school.
            At that time, the superior on mission told me I had to win the students over without any outside help. “If I come into that classroom and warn them to stop their shenanigans, they’ll never respect you.”
            At the end of that school year, I returned to the motherhouse. Exhausted, I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. The mother superior assigned me the obedience of taking a long nap every afternoon between Vespers and Matins.           
            Now it was eight years later. I’d left the convent, taught at a Catholic girls academy, and sought out this inner-city school in Dayton. Here, I found myself once again unable to establish a classroom routine. This time I sought help from the vice principal in charge of discipline. He encouraged me to use physical punishment “to show them who’s boss.”


            For many weeks, I resisted, but teaching became increasingly difficult in that disruptive atmosphere. The year would be lost if I didn’t do something, and the students weren’t responding to respect or kindness. The vice principal told me they understood only a strong stance and physical discipline.
            One October day, he arrived at my classroom door carrying a thick, eight-inch-wide, wooden paddle. It was about two feet long with a nine-inch handle at one end. Holes had been bored through the “business end” of the paddle.
            He beckoned me out into the hall. “Today’s the day, Dee,” he whispered. “You need to show them you mean business. They’re respect you for this.” I couldn’t imagine showing these students their importance to me by paddling one of them. But the vice principal assured me this necessary.
            He asked the offending student to come out into the hall. The young boy stood up, waved to his expectant audience, and swaggered from the classroom. The vice principal told him to put his hands on the wall and to assume “the position.” Now the student’s buttocks faced me. I gripped the paddle. “Paddle him five times,” the vice principal advised.
            My first swat was gentle. I didn’t want to hurt this child.
            “Dee, put some heft into it.”
            Each swat was hesitant. Fearful. But by the fifth swat I’d swallowed my distaste and just wanted to get this over with: I hit the child’s buttocks squarely. The paddle dandling by my side, I told him to return to the classroom. He gave me a cheeky grin and said, “I never thought you had it in you.”
            In this strange way, I won over the students. That was after I rushed into the bathroom and threw up. The vice principal waited for me. “They tested you, Dee. And you just passed the test.”
            For the rest of the year the students and I worked amiably together. They shared their stories with me before the first bell rang. I learned that the school had no money for sport teams, extracurriculars, or buses; that some of the students’ families were on welfare; that the mother of one of the girls was a prostitute and so this seventh-grader often got little sleep; that most of the students spent their evenings babysitting their siblings and had no time left to study; that many parents worked at least two jobs to support their families. 
     Most of all, I learned that these children had the same dreams for their lives as all the children I'd ever taught. The only discernible difference between them and the youth I'd taught in Omaha, Seneca, Baileyville, Kansas City, and at the Catholic academy for girls in Dayton was . . . poverty.


            What I quickly came to understand was that the students divided themselves into four groups: poor blacks, poor whites, destitute blacks, destitute whites. The whites were mostly new arrivals from Tennessee and Kentucky. The long-time residents of Dayton called them “rednecks” or “crackers.” The former because when they left their farms and moved to Ohio they had red necks from working in the fields; that latter because they were poor whites.            
            Students of the two poor groups, whether black or white, came to school with bagged lunches. The destitute groups didn’t. They often started the day without breakfast. Hunger was part of that classroom, and it taught me quickly that black and white wasn’t the issue at that inner-city school. Poverty was.
            A few years later, I taught in another classroom—in New Hampshire—where poverty influenced learning. The Dayton students had taught me what I needed to know so as to help those high school students in New England.
            On Saturday, I’ll share with you just what those students and I did together in that inner-city classroom.
                                                                        (Continued on Saturday . . . )

Photo of building wall by federico stevanin for freedigitalphotos.net
Photo of child’s hand by africa for freedigitalphotos.net

42 comments:

  1. Corporal punishment in all UK schools, private and state run, is banned! There has been a lot of talk the past few years of passing a law that would make it illegal for parents to spank their children. As you can imagine -- this is very very controversial!
    I find these posts about your teaching experiences very interesting and very relevant to today.

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    1. Dear Broad,
      I'm not sure but I think corporal punishment is banned here in public schools, that is, those run by the local school districts. When I went to Goggle today to try and find a photograph of a paddle, I encountered articles about buying a paddle so as to discipline your children. This is so foreign to the way I believe we need to raise children. But these articles lauded using a paddle. Perhaps I'm out of touch with life today.

      Peace.

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  2. I was quite surprised at the paddling! And that it actually helped them to respect you! Wow! I did not see that coming.

    Being poor...or destitute...in this country is something mostly ignored and hidden away. I will be expectantly waiting to hear the next excerpt in your teaching story! :):)

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    1. Dear Rita,
      Never again did I resort to paddling a student. Once I'd passed that test--this is what the vice principal told me--the students knew I would paddle and so they worked with me, instead of against me. I don't truly understand the thinking behind this. It seems so strange to me. And yet that young boy was proud that he'd been the "test" case. He bragged about it all year.

      Peace.

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  3. Of all the rhetoric that exists in this country about reforming the educational system, none can touch the truth of what you just said. Poverty informs education. There is simply no way we can expect to have schools that offer equal opportunities to each and every student if some portion of them is coming to school hungry, sleep-deprived, or without enough clothing and shelter. We have to find a way to lift everyone up so that they can take advantage of the opportunities out there.

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    1. Dear Kari,
      You hit the nail on the head: "poverty informs education." Like you, I believe that we "have to find a way to lift everyone up so that they can take advantage of the opportunities life offers." It truly does take a village to raise a child and as a country we need to realize that when we help one of us achieve a better life, we help all of us.

      Peace.

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  4. I probably would have thrown up if I had to paddle a child as well. I admire you for telling us this story and look forward to the next.

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    1. Dear Stephanie,
      Fortunately, the restroom was right there, across from the entry to my classroom. If it hadn't been, I would have thrown up on the hall floor!

      Peace.

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  5. Dear Dee--I am so glad I found you & your blog! I would love it if you shared those class stories you spoke of in your hyperlink. Do you still have them?

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    1. Dear Fishducky,
      I don't have those stories. The students took them home at the end of the year.

      I often wish I knew what happened with each of the students I've had the privilege to teach and to learn from. The students I had in Omaha--my first teaching assignment--were 13 at the end of the school year. That would mean that they would be 63 now. I wonder how their lives turned out.

      And the students at the inner-city school in Dayton in May 1969 would have been 13 also. So now they would be 55. What's happened to them? I so wish I knew.

      Peace.

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  6. Wow--what amazing memories. ;)

    I still remember the first time I spanked Ruby. It was so hard.

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    1. Dear Elisa,
      Knowing how much you love the Scribe, I know that spanking her must have been hard. I wonder what brought you to do that. Raising children, I'm sure from watching friends and their children, is seldom easy and frustrations run high.

      Peace.

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  7. I can't imagine how hard it must have been to get behind those swats! I have reached a time in my life when I'm "all over the place" in what I think is best regarding corporal punishment. Classrooms are out of control, teachers are powerless, and yet...so I fully recognize that it is a huge and complex issue, and even back then when it was an acceptable and encouraged form of discipline (as it was in my school, too), you struggled against the paddle. I think I'm mostly glad that I am not placed in a position today to have to work in groups of young people. It must be so complicated for all in authority! Can't wait to hear more, Dee. Debra (and today I haven't had a hard time leaving a comment...I don't know why I sometimes do!)

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    1. Dear Debra,
      Like you, I find myself glad that I no longer teach in grade and high school. In fact, my last ten years of teaching were in a college classroom. I succeeded at that because I'd learned so much from the younger students I'd had the privilege to work with. Those teachers who respect their students and work so hard to walk in the students' shoes and understand them need our support as never before.

      Peace.

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  8. Oh, Dee. What that must have cost you emotionally. But, strangely, that paddling settled some issue of 'who is in charge here'. Amazing.

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    1. Dear Susan,
      Irony. That corporal punishment should earn me the respect of the students when kindness and my own respect for them didn't.

      Peace.

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  9. This is great to read Dee, it must have taken much thought to write this. Thank you.

    Yvonne.

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    1. Dear Yvonne,
      Thank you for your kind words. I did have to really consider how to tell this so as to show the pathos and tragedy of what I was witnessing.

      Peace.

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  10. You are indeed stronger than I. You stayed, you learned and in return they learned not only from books but also kindness.
    Love your style, Dee.

    Hugs,
    Pam :)

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    1. Dear Pam,
      I wish I'd had your camera then and could have taken pictures of those seventh-graders. There are only two whose faces are still sharply etched in my mind. I hope to post about them on Saturday.

      Peace.

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  11. Oh God, Dee, how could you bear it?
    To have to resort to physical violence was dreadful enough but to have to realise that those children didn't stand a snowball's chance in hell ever to get out of that poverty? I wish you'd been able to say what kind of success you had with the class, did you make any difference at all? Or might you just as well have sat out your time without doing anything at all?

    Did your faith make any difference to the kids?

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    1. Dear Friko,
      I don't know what happened to any of these children. The next year I was in Minneapolis working on a Master's Degree. That happened because of what I learned from those children.

      As to what they learned from me--I'm not sure. I'll try to muse on that in my Saturday or next Tuesday posting. I know we did accomplish some important things. Did they remember? What are they doing now? I wish I knew.

      But I simply have to believe that no effort to reach out to others with kindness and respect is ever meaningless. Some good must have come from that year we spent together. I know the good that came to me. I do not know what came to those children. I hope I touched their lives in a positive way.

      Peace.

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  12. Pam and I are commenting together. I will go and visit her blog in a minute.

    This is an amazing post. So true, so relevant today. Poverty and hidden poverty cost so much. I am not surprised that you had to go away and throw up after paddling that boy. How would you have coped if it had become a regular requirement I wonder. I am so looking forward to your next post. Thank you. Lots.

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    1. Dear EC,
      Poverty grinds people down. It robs them of hope and possibility. As the poet Langston Hughes wrote, "What happens to a dream deferred?" So many dreams shattered on the boulders of poverty.

      Peace.

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  13. I really admire your courage and stamina, Dee! Teaching 7th grade anywhere would be a challenge, but with kids facing such obstacles to learning, it would be so hard. I'm so glad you were able to work with them and to listen and to help as much as possible. Teachers can make such a difference in helping students not to lose those dreams.

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    1. Dear Kathy,
      I so agree with you that teachers can make a great difference in helping students not to lose their dreams. Several teachers follow this blog and I follow theirs. I have great admiration for these women. From them I've learned that many, many teachers today care deeply about the children in their classrooms and they listen to those dreams and help the children on their way to achieving them.

      Peace.

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  14. I too am amazed that you finally used the paddle. In those days it was expected, I guess, and once the hierarchy was established, the kids could respect you. You said it all when you said (in one of your replies) that you cannot believe that kindness and respect goes unnoticed by those who receive it, or by those who give it. You definitely made a difference, but you will never know how. Great story, well told.

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  15. Dear DJan,
    I went against my beliefs to paddle that young boy. But I knew that if I didn't the class and I would be miserable the rest of the year. No learning for those who wanted to learn and no peace for me. Fortunately, I never had to paddle again. Just the knowledge that I'd done it and the students' belief that I would do so again changed everything. Life is, to say the least, strange at times.

    Peace.

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  16. I do remember the corporal punishment in the schools that I attended. I was only slapped once on the hands, but I witnessed way too much brutality, both physical and mental. When my children attended school, a form was sent home for parents to sign which would allow the principal (or whoever) the option to meet out corporal punishment on children if the offence merited it. No way, no how, would I sign it.

    Today, with schools facing even more problems and things that I could never imagine happening in mine or even my children's youth, the teachers role has taken over so much more than just teaching. It is the best and worst job there is and poverty is a large, and becoming a larger part of it. Can it be fixed, well maybe somethings, but there will never be equality between the haves and have nots.

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    1. Dear Arleen,
      Like you, I strongly suspect that the rich we will always have with us and the poor also. The Have and the Have-Nots. I also agree that teachers have the "best and the worst jobs" today. And as poverty is growing in our country, those jobs are only getting worse. I myself often feel hopeless about what can be done. I'm grateful for those people who have a vision. Today we need to dream dreams that are possible if we all work together.

      Peace.

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  17. Oh Dee, what a powerful story, and many thought-provoking comments as well. Speaking as a current teacher, I would quit if I were required to paddle a child. That said, it is becoming increasingly more challenging to gain student respect. This is not so much because kids are intentionally disrespectful, it is because it is not expected at home or part of their upbringing. Kids are coming to us with a sense of entitlement, (I have the right to do what I want, when I want, and you can't stop me) and that is very hard to change.

    Still, you are correct that the only defense is to model respect to them, and teach by example. Not always easy to do! :)

    Kario really nailed the issue of poverty, and I find that true even in our own school. Our demographics are vastly different than they were 15 years ago when my daughters were in elementary school. These days, the free and reduced lunch children make up about a 1/3 of the school. Many students get themselves up, fed breakfast (maybe), and to school completely on their own, or in charge of younger siblings. They go home to empty houses, and play video games for hours with no supervision. Somehow, no matter how poor they are, most find a way to purchase video game systems.

    My feeling is that parents aren't typically poor role models intentionally. But, poverty, or working three jobs just to keep food on the table, takes a huge toll on family dynamics. The parents are too exhausted to follow through on discipline, and kids learn how to manipulate (often through guilt) to get their demands met. These habits are carried with them into the classroom.

    I need to stop! There's too much! (And I have a day off and time to respond!!)

    I always look forward to reading your stories, Dee.

    Oh, thank you for your comments on my sleeplessness! I will remember they mantra you mentioned. I was using it last summer when I couldn't sleep and forgot about it!

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    1. Dear Sandi,
      You were one of the teachers I was thinking about when I wrote my comment to Dr. Kathy McCoy. Because I have taught and because I have great nieces and great-great nieces and nephews, I'm aware of what teaching is like today in so many schools. You explain so well here what is happening and why. Thank you for adding so much to this ongoing discourse. And thank you, too, for educating the students in your classroom with such understanding and respect. You are a blessing in their lives.

      Peace.

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  18. Thank you for stopping by, have a delightful weekend, Dee.
    Hugs,
    Pam :)

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    1. Dear Pam,
      And thank you! I do plan on a lovely weekend. I'll drive up to the airport and visit at the Marriott with a friend from college and convent days and with her husband. We always have such a stimulating conversation.

      I wish you a delightful weekend also, Pam.

      Peace.

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  19. Hi Dee, lovely to dip back in to your story: must do a little back-reading, I've missed so much and had forgotten what an absorbing read this blog is! Once again you raise some interesting questions, and show how you won that class over. Thanks for a lovely read.

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  20. Dear Kate,
    So good to hear from you. I haven't visited your wonderfully crafted blog for many weeks due first to illness and then to my attempt to catch back up on the blogs I'd missed. I'll start visiting you again next week.

    Thank you for your kind words.

    Peace.

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  21. The sad part for me, is the fact that those students expected discipline by caning as the norm in order to act appropriately. Coming from Africa, the poverty of which you speak is nothing new. Children arriving at school ill shod and hungry is all too common yet there are those who, despite severely limiting circumstances, excel themselves academically.

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    1. Dear Desiree,
      I believe you are right, that many students, "despite severely limiting circumstances, excel themselves academically." One of my wishes as I have aged is that I might somehow, through some magical telescope, see what each of the students with whom I've spent time has achieved. Not so much materially, but are they contented with their lives? Are their family members loving and supportive to one another? Have they found meaning in their life? So much for me is about meaning.

      Peace.

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  22. Dee, corporal punishment was still in force when I was in high school in the early 1960s, but only the head teacher had the right to carry it out. The thought of having to paddle a child in the corridor outside the classroom seems very alien now, but I can quite see how students accustomed to physical punishment, and indeed expecting it, would have thought you soft if you had refused to do it. Thank goodness you didn't need to do it again.

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  23. In a very odd way you got their respect. Today at least in Canada and I am sure in the US as well, corporal punishment is banned. I am glad it is. Now it is left to the imaginations of teachers and administrators to come up with something less violent and something that that will also garner the students' respect but from a non-violent stance.
    I remember refusing a principal 'order' to strap a child....he took over and did it himself. Having been strapped myself a few times in grade school for things like laughing uncontrollably in church, and a couple of 'other' very benign things (and I was a good child!), I was left with a very bad taste for schools and teachers and the whole system they used. That was what motivated me in the first place to be a teacher....to attempt to make a difference and turn that system into an institution for learning, not one for fear.
    I enjoy reading about your experiences in this 'world' of teaching.

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    1. Dear Jim,
      I just left you a response to your comment on the unit of study I did with the students. There I had you living in the United States. Sorry for this miscue.

      I am so impressed with your commitment to teaching and to making a difference. It's teachers like you who help students realize their true potential. Thank you for all the students whose lives you have touched, just as their lives have surely touched you.

      Peace.

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  24. My dearest friend was forced by her foster mother to care for her newborn "brother" in her room from the day he was born until he was five years old, when she moved to live with another foster family.

    Every night, she woke up for his feedings, cooed him to sleep, changed his diapers. Because of her care for him, she was extremely sleep deprived and lost ground in school. Instead of asking questions, her teacher punished and ridiculed her publicly for falling asleep in class. She was ten years old.

    How lucky for your students that they had a caring person, however ignorant of the issues facing them, and not an ignoramus like my friend's teacher.

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