Showing posts with label education. Show all posts
Showing posts with label education. Show all posts

Friday, September 25, 2009

2pac: Academic Research Subject


Last week I had a talk with a longtime Bay Area high school teacher who incorporates hip-hop pedagogy into this lesson plans. After 18 years in classrooms throughout California and having toured schools in several different countries, he was adamant about one thing: 2pac is the most influential musical icon to young people, hands down.

As a teacher, Pac's influence became especially important for him when it came to translating the lived experiences many young people of color face to ideas in the classroom. According to this teacher, it doesn't matter the classroom or continent, wherever there's a community in struggle, 2pac is the most enduring musical icon for young folks because his music speaks, in a very real way, about struggle.

And it looks like the same can also by said for the ivory tower.

Recently Pac's work was back in the news when his mother, Afeni Shakur, donated over 150 of the slain rapper's writings to Robert W. Woodruff Library at Atlanta University Center. The collection includes rough drafts of raps, poems and a photocopy of the the rapper's original contract with Death Row records.

The library is home to Atlanta's historically Black colleges, including Spelman, Morehouse, Clark Atlanta, and the Morehouse School of Medicine.

I can't think of any other artist of our generation who's had such a profound impact, both culturally and academically. Off the top of my head, there's maybe Thelonious Monk and, later, Billie Holiday. But even then, it took decades for Black music to gain legitamacy as a topic worthy of scholarly research.

So why's 2pac so relevant? Check out this video, which I first peeped over at Colin's blog. It's as relevant today as it was back in '92. At least, I think so.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

Back to Middle School

I spent the earlier part of today doing my first in-depth reporting at a middle school in Oakland. I observed a sixth grade math class, and on top of feeling dumb as shit for not remembering a damn thing about algebra (except for PEMDAS: Please Excuse My Dumb Ass Sister).

Lots to observe, of course, but what I couldn't get over was how tiny the kids were. I've been racked by a serious case of nostalgia recently. Maybe it's the fact that hella people from my middle school days have somehow found me on Facebook. But with all the adult pressures of jobs, bills and housing, I've been yearning to get back to when shit was relatively simple: make the basketball team, do my homework, worry about what to wear to school the next day. I know retrospect is a biatch, 'cause in reality I know middle school was filled with bubbling insecurities and the helplessness of seeing friends and fam struggle while feeling powerless to help out.

But what struck me today is looking at the boys (I hope that doesn't read as pervishly as it does in my head). The class was filled with kids of color, and it looked a lot like I remember mine looking, back then I wasn't worried about what white kids might think or how state standards defined me. When I saw the boys in this class, they looked engaged, even excited. Even when you could tell the math was pushing their nerves, they didn't necessarily buck authority.

I remember how much changed for me in middle school, especially in terms of how I viewed race and gender. In sixth grade, two of my best friends were guys. One was Black and Japanese, the other was Chinese, and all we'd talk about was football, Southpark, and Mrs. Vorsanger's science experiments. By the time we hit 8th grade, they weren't friends; the former seemed to understand what it meant to be Black at a San Francisco public school, and the latter only kicked it with the kids in the local Asian Gang. Meanwhile, my awkward ass was giving up on basketball and trying to figure out how to walk comfortably in skin-tight flare jeans. They went to the same high school and, as far as I know, never spoke again.

I know it sounds hella cliche, but when exactly does innocence fade? To my recollection, none of us experienced any dramatic, life-changing encounter that made us look at how we related to one another differently. It was gradual. As far as we knew when were entered middle school, we all had the same dreams.

It seemed like the most profound transformations happened in the boys I knew. Sure, the girls changed too; some played stupid, some got pregnant, some fell off, and some I still kick it with to this day. But it seems like the boys understood intuitively somewhere between sixth and seventh grade that you don't usually earn cred by being smart or kicking it with girls you're not trying to get with.

"... So now I pout like a grown jerk, wishing all I had to do now, was finish homework."

Aaanyway, in typically cheeseball fashion, I'll leave with you with a classic:

Saturday, September 12, 2009

On Going to Grad School

Just read the good homie Colin's amazing post and was inspired to write about my education, or lack thereof.

Basically, I'm terrified of school. Terrified of not being in school. Terrified of confronting how I've been institutionalized to expect to be in a classroom every September. And mostly terrified that after all of that socialization -- 17 years, not including summers -- I still don't know shit.

I've been thinking a lot about applying to grad schools recently. Part of it is due to the fact that it's my "fall back plan." But I'd be kidding myself if I didn't admit that I've felt this overwhelming need to theoretically understand the parts of myself I've been running from all these years. For me, school has always been a liberating experience, even in its most demoralizing times. I was always that introverted kid with a book (or documentary) stuck beneath my arm. I absolutely love the process of learning, of being challenged, of feeling like I'm growing.

The problem recently is that I've realized how much of my schooling was bullshit. Most times it didn't challenge me. It royally fucked me up in terms of thinking about race and class and privilege, just in its structure. So there's the practical part of me that looks at school as the most "productive" next step, one that I hope, if approached in the right way, will be liberating and fulfilling and challenging as fuck.

Then there's the other part of me that knows that schools will invariably reinforce all the shit I've always hated anyway: who can speak the loudest, who's the sassiest, who takes up the most space, who uses the most obscure words or can pull some random theorist out of their ass.

But maybe that's just my experience?

And then there's the cynic in me. I hate how competitive school is. I hate how, no matter the program or its intention, it's inevitably set up to make you feel like shit. I have a hard time thinking of myself "studying" the life and death circumstances of me and my communities, especially when it's caught up in my own and other people's insecure bullshit. I have a hard time chatting it up about what conferences I want to attend or papers I want to present. Yes, I know education is a business. It's like a job. And for me, that's exactly the problem.

So the obvious answer is that going to school doesn't mean shit about getting an education. But right now, it's the only reasonable alternative I can think of that would allow me to sit around and read books all day.

...To Be Continued (I'm sure...)

Thursday, April 17, 2008

colleges cater to changing appetities...how bout changing demographics?

According to The New York Times, universities and colleges are making changes to their dining menus. Lobster, prime steak, white spinach lasagna are all making an appearance in college dinning halls...

gosh, when I was in college, all I looked forward to was leaving the dining hall without a queasy stomach...

The article states,

"But as palates grow more sophisticated and admissions become more competitive, many top colleges are paying attention to dining rooms as well as classrooms."

One college director of housing and dining adds,

"And [students] don't just want that product in name only, but they want it to be authentic, because they've eaten at Wolfgang Puck's restaurant and they want to smell that hickory wood burning."

I don't know but this leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Are palates growing more sophisticated? Or are more students from affluent backgrounds who are accustomed to this style of eating being accepted to these colleges?

One student says,

"I didn't apply to Bates, because, well, I ate there, the meal was not very good," Lucas Braun, a 17-year-old senior at Westtown School, outside of Philadelphia, who has been accepted at several colleges in the Northeast. "There's something subliminal from the food you see in the dining hall and the meal they give you that influences your decision."


Really, now. When I was applying to colleges, it was the cost of the school and the financial aid package that was the influencing factor in my decision. Well, I did think about food, but more in the would I even get to eat considering the cost of tuition kind of way.

As a Latina from one of the poorest neighborhoods in Los Angeles county, I was fortunate enough to even get the chance to apply to colleges, and that was only because many of those annoying application fees were waived based on the plain fact that my high school was both poor and underachieving. I was lucky enough to be on the campus of a small, private, liberal-arts school. And during my time there, I was much too busy fighting the system to care whether my food was cooked to order. I only demanded an occasional tortilla here and there to calm my homesickness.

With this in mind, I can't help but think that rich kids are the motivating force behind wood-fired pizza, grilled sesame crusted tuna with wasabi mayo, and lobster.
Lobster, yeah,
lobster…

Friday, March 28, 2008

Guide to the Umemploidz


So me and the homie* were talking last night about how unexpectedly hard knock this post-college existence has been. The shit's rough. And not just for spacey cats like myself who majored in impractical things like English and the study of Black folk. The aforementioned homie got her degree in Biology, which meant she really studied -- like numbers and shit. Interview after interview, we're learning the truth behind the age old adage "it's not what you know, but who you know." When you don't know the right people, it sucks.

Enter a new section on The Playground: Guide to the Unemploidz. This is basically all the stuff I wish someone would've sat down and shared with me this time last year:

[Note: These tips come from a very particular kind of college experience. I went to a small liberal arts college in the middle of the Southern California desert. It was like being at Camp for four years.]

1. DON'T BELIEVE THE HYPE. A college degree sounds nice, and is filled with memorable experiences of clenched fists, red cups and weed-laced late night cyphers. But real talk: There ain't no jobs. We're in a recession. Unless you're part of the 0.12378800 % of folks who find their dream job after college, you'll probably end up doing something you don't expect. It's not always bad, but it's definitely not always expected.

2. SALLIE MAE IS A CRAZY BITCH** WHO WILL STEAL ALL YOUR MONEY and call your mother a whore. Ok, maybe not that second part. But f'real, loan repayment can sneak up on that ass real quick, especially if you're not playing your cards right. One helpful way to prepare yourself would be to carefully read all the information you're given about grace periods, consolidation options and deferments. Plan your job search and allocate your savings accordingly.

3. IT'S LONELY. Especially for folks*** who were blessed with a group of really down homies during college. The days of creeping over to so-and-so's room at 4am are out of the question. Expect your friends to be scattered all over the place. A good option would be to make sure you and all your friends are on the same wireless network so you have someone to vent to -- free of charge.

4. KEEP IT MOVING. Sounds simple enough, but it's easy to get discouraged when your plans either don't pan out, or they turn out to be a lot less glamorous than you imagined. If you don't already, start to keep a journal. I've found it to be really helpful in tracing how I've changed over the past year. It's crazy how your gut instincts are almost always right. Anyway, journaling is also good to just relieve stress, and it's a lot cheaper than therapy -- especially when your broke ass ain't got no health insurance.

5. RELY ON WHAT YOU KNOW. Whether it's moving back home or finding comfort in the folks who know you best, trust that the people you love will always have your back. If you're fortunate enough to be able to move back home, embrace it, don't look at it as the end of the world. It might be tense in the begining, especially when you're trying to re-adjust to mom's rules, but it's worth it. For me, it's definitely helped ground me and given me the freedom to take jobs I otherwise wouldn't be able to if I had to come up with rent and a car note.

If moving home isn't an option, again, rely on that phone plan. Throw in some text messaging, even if you usually hate on it. You really get to know who your real friends are when you're struggling, and while it's shocking to have to weed some folks out, it's so worth it to vibe with the folks who care.


Basically, over the past year or so, I've learned that school is safe. Safer than I ever imagined. What makes the transition from college to the real world so difficult is the fact that no one really prepares you. A lot of the people I know had been in school for the past 17 years, and the thought of not being able to rely on that network is scary. Academia is a place where our hopes and dreams are nurtured, and where we're taught that we're the cream of the crop. After that graduation ceremony, you start to meet the millions of other people who are just as talented and motivated, and have had more time to make the connections that count.

To think about it, I'm in no position to give advice. But the least I can do -- for my own sake, especially -- is document what I've learned and how I'm still struggling. Who knows, maybe it might just be useful to someone.

----------
* This term refers to someone of esteemed friendship or profound insight, as in, "The homie Aaron McGruder said..."

* On the whole, I think of bitches as amazingly fierce/OVAH individuals. I use it as a tongue-in-cheek remark, a "term of endearment" even. Yet in this instance, I mean it in the least feminist of ways. However, it is not a slight against all women. I love bitches. But then there are also weak bitches, who are mean-spirited and have no concept of the power or beauty that a real woman holds. This can also apply to men and, in this case, that bitch Sallie Mae. If you're trying to police my language and uncover some deep self hatred, don't bother. I blame hip hop. And The Man.

*** People in the Bay Area use the word "folks" a lot. I probably use it more than the average person, but I mean, it's just the way I speak. You may also hear this word in connection with "the movement" and "this work", which basically refers to social jusice-y things that people of color do that make them inherently more down than white people.

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Getting over heartbreak

I’ve been gone for a while
Out of myself for some time
Trying to muster a drop of creativity to write this blog

Don’t think I’ve forgotten where I belong

The problem is that I had to
break

…remove myself from the academic world
and almost anything else related to it

I spent the summer settling
getting over a heartbreak
crying to Sade’s sweet voice
…somebody already broke my heart…

I had to break it off with the academic world, its politics, and its players…
at least for a breath

Now, after some time, I am ready.
I realized that I wasn’t upset with the entire field of women’s studies
but with one of its participants
Sad to say it was my academic advisor
One of the only black women on campus to head an academic department

I let her play favorites
throw out excuses as to why, as one of her poorest students, I wasn’t given an award I was nominated for
the gist of her response to me: You have a full fellowship, what the f**k you complaining about!

In the end, she was right
I couldn’t complain
my voice shattered along with my heart.

Was this the women’s studies I signed up for?
I wanted a place//space//group/
that was welcoming, supportive, willing to understand

I wanted a director who recognized that even with a full fellowship
I am a student of color with limited means
I still need to pay the rent, satisfy the growling of my stomach, feed my brain, and all that other jazz
I don’t have access to my parents' bank accounts—there are actually none to speak of
and my minimum wage job will only get me so far

I survived the summer
spent some time pleading with the mailwoman to stop delivering outstanding balances
stealing tomatoes and onions from my mom’s fridge
overdrafting

…yet, here I am…
I survived one heartbreak
ready to try again.

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Jim Crow in Jena, Louisiana

Its really interesting (not suprising) that mainstream media has not picked up on this at all. What are your thoughts?



From Indy Bay

Jim Crow Injustice in Jena, Louisiana
by Alice Woodward /Revolution ( revolution.sfbureau [at] gmail.com )
Monday Jul 16th, 2007 1:37 PM


(Update from Revolution Newspaper) In 2006 Black high school students sat under a tree in front of the local high school, an area that, in the unspoken law of Jena, Louisana, was reserved for white students. The next day three nooses hung from the tree in the school colors. These events set in motion a schoolyard fight. 16 year old Mychal Bell was convicted on June 28 by an all white jury and now faces up to 22 years in prison. And five more Black students still face serious charges stemming from the fight.
The story of the Jena Six began on September 1, 2006 -- a hot late summer day, in the southern town of Jena, Louisiana. Bryant Purvis, a Black high school student, asked permission to sit beneath the shade tree known as the “white tree,” in front of the town’s high school. It was unspoken law that this shady area was for whites only during school breaks. The vice principal said nothing was stopping anyone. So Black students sat underneath the tree, challenging the established authority of segregation and racism.

The next day, hanging from the tree, were three ropes, in school colors, each tied to make a noose. The events set in motion by those nooses led to a schoolyard fight. And that fight led to the conviction, on June 28, 2007, of a Black student at Jena High School for charges that can bring up to 22 years in prison. Mychal Bell, a 16-year-old sophomore football star at the time he was arrested, was convicted by an all-white jury, without a single witness being called on his behalf. The remaining five Black students still face serious charges stemming from the fight, their lawyers and parents estimate they will go to trial this fall.

While this particular story begins in September of last year, the background story goes way back. In a previous article in Revolution, I used the “white tree” of Jena as a metaphor for all the racism, and systematic oppression of Black people, which dates back to the founding of this country. Right now, that is what is being enforced with the persecution of these young Black men.

* * *

The town of Jena, like rural and urban areas throughout this country, is a segregated place. In an article called, “Racism Goes on Trial Again in America's Deep South,” the British newspaper The Observer (Sunday, May 20, 2007) described: “Jena's major industry is growing and marketing junk pine. Walk down the usually deserted main street and you will not find many Black employees. [Caseptla] Bailey, 56, is a former air force officer and holder of a business management degree. ‘I couldn't even get a job in Jena as a bank teller,’ she said. ‘Look at the banks and the best white-collar jobs and you'll see only white and red necks in those collars.’” The local barber is still a white-only business, they have never cut the hair of a Black person.

I spoke with Mychal Bell’s father, Marcus Jones, by phone, and he gave me a picture of how this breaks down in the Jena schools: “Young white kids, most of them don’t have contact with Black people until they get to high school. They got a school, their junior high here, what they call Fellowship, and another school called Nebo—a little neighborhood that is part of Jena—they got an elementary school—a junior high school, or a middle school—one or the other. Those schools are being funded by government funds, but no Black kids go there.

“They don’t have contact, any interaction with Black kids until they get to high school. When white kids leave their school, and get to high school here, this is their first time ever playing ball with Black kids, being in classroom with Black kids, talking to Black kids, if they even talk to them, which I doubt.”

I mentioned to Marcus Jones that I had recently seen the movie Remember the Titans (about the integration of a school and its football team in 1971 in Virginia), and that the situation he was describing reminded me of scenes in the beginning of that movie. He kind of laughed, and said, “Some of that Titan’s stuff is not too far from this.”

Protesting the Noose Incident

In response to the noose incident, several Black students, among them star players on the football team, spontaneously staged a sit-in and protest, under the tree. The principal reacted by bringing in the white district attorney, Reed Walters, and 10 local police officers to an all-school assembly. Marcus Jones described the assembly:

“At any activity done in the auditorium—anything—Blacks sit on one side, whites on the other side, okay? The DA tells the principal to call the students in the auditorium. They get in there. The DA tells the Black students, he's looking directly at the Black students—remember, whites on one side, Blacks on the other side—he's looking directly at the Black students. He told them to keep their mouths shut about the boys hanging their nooses up. If he hears anything else about it, he can make their lives go away with the stroke of his pen.”

DA Walters concluded that the students should “work it out on their own.” Police officers roamed the halls of the school that week, and tensions simmered throughout the fall semester.

In November, as football season came to a close, the main school building was mysteriously burned down. In the wake of this, tensions erupted in a weekend of whites lashing out to enforce white supremacy in Jena.

On a Friday night, Robert Bailey, a 17-year-old Black student and football player, was invited to a dance at the “Fair Barn,” a hall considered to be “white.” When he walked in, without warning he was punched in the face, knocked on the ground and attacked by a group of white youth. Only one of the white youth was arrested—he was ultimately given probation and asked to apologize.

The night after that, a 22-year-old white man, along with two friends, pulled a gun on Bailey and two of his friends at a local gas station. The Black youths wrestled the gun from him to prevent him from using it. They were arrested and charged with theft, and the white man went free. The following Monday students returned to school. It was then that a fight broke out that sent one white student to the hospital. He was treated, released, and seen at a social event that evening. In contrast to how the authorities handled the assault on Robert Bailey by white students – where one white student got probation and apologized – for this incident, six Black students face serious criminal charges and decades in jail.

Marcus Jones told me what happened: “The next day, when they get back to school, the Barker boy called one of them a ‘nigger.’ We have a statement from a white kid, saying that he was right there when he called him ‘nigger boy’ or something like that. They charged them with second-degree attempted murder and conspiracy to commit second-degree attempted murder. Alright, the boy was knocked unconscious. But by the time they called for the medic to get there, he was walking. They took him to the hospital. He don’t stay in there probably no more than an hour, tops. They released him, parents come to the hospital to get him, everything, took like a whole hour. Later on that evening, they held the ring ceremony, you know where they get their rings—he comes up there all fine and dandy. He had a little black eye, little bruise on his lip, you know, but he wasn’t nowhere close to no death. He laughed and talked with everyone up there, and everything.”

Justin Barker was allegedly knocked down, punched, and kicked by a number of Black students. In December of 2006 six Black students—Robert Bailey Junior, Theo Shaw, Carwin Jones, Bryant Purvis, Mychal Bell, and a still unidentified minor, allegedly the attackers of Justin Barker—were arrested, charged with attempted second degree manslaughter, and expelled from school.

The outrageously high bail ranged from $70,000-$138,000, leaving most of them stuck in jail for months. Mychal was 16 years old at the time he was arrested, the judge removed him from the juvenile facilities and brought him to the Jena Parish jail to charge him as an adult.

A Jim Crow Trial

What kind of trial did Mychal Bell get in the town of Jena, Louisiana?

Without any explanation, both of Mychal Bell’s parents were put on the “witness list” and therefore were not allowed into the courtroom. They were never called to testify, but they were not allowed to go into the trial. In this way those in charge of this courtroom prevented Mychal Bell's parents from attending the trial of their own son.

Mychal was judged by an all-white jury, in a courtroom run by a white judge. Whites sat with Justin Barker and his white lawyer on one side. Blacks sat with defendant Mychal Bell, who was represented by a court-appointed attorney.

The prosecutor called 16 witnesses, mostly white students. The court-appointed defense attorney called none. Barker’s attorney argued that Bell’s tennis shoes on his feet were a “dangerous weapon.”

The trial was so outrageous that when a Louisiana TV station polled viewers, 62% said that Mychal Bell was not getting a fair trial.

Mychal Bell was convicted of two felonies: aggravated second-degree battery and conspiracy to commit aggravated second-degree battery. Mychal faces up to 22 years in prison for a schoolyard fight. Compare this to the white students who attacked Robert Bailey at the Fair Barn and have been allowed to go free with barely a slap on the wrist.

The threat of a similar so-called trial hangs over the heads of the other accused Black students.

Marcus Jones said, “Now remember, who created this atmosphere of this Black and white stuff? The DA done that. ’Cause when he let those boys get away with hanging those nooses, and when they had the fight with the Barker boy, he was telling them, ‘Listen, you niggers, don’t put your hands on nobody white. If you do, I’m gonna show you. I’ll put charges on those boys.’ And lately he was saying, ‘It’s alright for those whites to do what they want to do, because I ain’t going to do nothing to them.’ Black kids see he didn’t do nothing to them about the noose incident, you know? So he’s the one that created all this racial tension here, you see. He let one race slide. But you’re going to try to enforce the law on another race.”

In an interview from an upcoming documentary that aired on Democracy Now (7/10/07), Marcus Jones showed for the camera the stack of college scholarship offers his son Mychal had received to play football at many different schools. Marcus Jones commented solemnly, “One of the best lessons that my son could learn, that’s one of the best lessons, to know what it is to be Black now, ya know, if this don’t teach him what it is to be Black now, I don’t know what will. He’s 17 now, he’s got a lot of life ahead of him. The day he sets foot out of jail, I’m going to tell him again, you know what it is to be Black now, here it is.”

Free the Jena Six!

In scenes from the documentary aired on Democracy Now, Caseptla Bailey, the mother of Robert Bailey, who also awaits his trial remarked, “They want to take these kids, my son as well as all these other children, lock them up and throw away the key, that’s a tradition, for Black males, so they want to keep that tradition going because they want to keep institutionalized slavery alive and well.”

In the face of this heart wrenching and outrageous reality, a battle is being fought to defend the Jena Six. Family, friends, and supporters of the young men are protesting and struggling. The Black community in Jena and people from across Louisiana and Texas have come together to support the Jena 6 and fight the injustice of their trials. People have put their lives on hold, and churches have opened their doors.

Marcus Jones told me, “I’m still in need of a lawyer for my son and one more of the kids. So we opened up a defense account for trying to get some good legal representation. Because my son was really just sold out by the court-appointed lawyer. Oh man, that’s so devastating. So now we’re just trying to generate some money to get good legal representation.”

All those who oppose racism, all those who watched in horror or themselves lived through the reality of Hurricane Katrina, all those who joined the debate around the Imus incident in opposition to racism and oppression, and those who have watched with horror as the clock was turned back 50 years by a Supreme Court ruling, undermining and doing away with what little rights were given by Brown v. Board of Education should join in demanding the charges be dropped against all of the Jena 6, and that Mychal Bell’s conviction be reversed!

Thursday, July 12, 2007

Teaching is the hardest thing. ever.

(From the teacher in the group...)

this is not me writing. this is me spilling..
teaching is the hardest thing. ever.
when someone walks out of your room, and you think "well good thing she's gone" - you know it's not what you're really thinking. where is she going? what did i do wrong? or..what didn't i do right?? when she walks out the door, she feels like she's won for less than a second before she becomes empty. "shit. what am i supposed to do now. how can i get out of this one" but her pride keeps pushing her to push it.. so she leaves my class. and i can't chase her down the hall. i have 18 other kids that are.. ready to learn.
i explain something that doesnt even make sense to me. my kids are lost.
im still authority. ive worked and have the attention of the class, but have nothing of use to give them. there's something they need to be taught, but i don't know it enough to teach them. i didn't take english in high school. im wasting their time.
vanshay is arguing with me - she already took a half hour bathroom break in the last teacher's lesson, and i am the law-enforcer. bathroom privileges are revoked.
but jazzming wants to go in the hall to talk to her cousins..family problems. if she walks out, she's not allowed back. but i don't want her to leave. she doesn't like authority and hates that i make her raise her hand because she's not a child. she has a child. a one-year-old.
kimberly's sitting with her head on her desk again, but i know if i call on her she'll be the first to break down the causes, threats and solutions to global warming and any plague of injustice in our society.
new kid in the back won't even break out a pencil - but he'll take it if i give it to him. sits next to david and keeps him quiet cause they haven't figured each other out yet. can they trust each other. first time david hasn't talked all afternoon.
don'yea laughs when the class laughs, but doesnt speak unless spoken to. must be a magnet kid.

jazzming is fed up with my rules.. i won't listen to her nless she raises her hand. she won't raise her hand. she's not a child.. and walks out. it's her last time. and i don't know where she's gone.. but she's not coming back.
my classroom wasn't right for her.. but i dont know if it could've been, or if i didnt do something right.
don't think im trying to save her - she has her own. i just dont know where it is..cause it’s outside of here. and it makes me wonder if it could've been here. i just didn't know enough do enough see enough be enough to make it here.
am i being idealistic?
teaching is the hardest thing. ever.

Tuesday, July 10, 2007

Conservative activism grows online

Today the LA Times reported on the emergence of Conservapedia, a right-wing creation modeled after the popular online encyclopedia Wikipedia.com. It began as a World History class project in New Jersey, and is now gaining momentum with a self-reported 12.3 million hits, a number appearing just beneath the daily bible verse.

From the Times:
Conservapedia defines environmentalists as "people who profess concern about the environment" and notes that some would want to impose legal limits on the use of toilet paper.

Femininity? The quality of being "childlike, gentle, pretty, willowy, submissive."

A hike in minimum wage is referred to as "a controversial manoeuvre that increases the incentive for young people to drop out of school."

And the state of the economy under President Bush? Much better than the "liberal media" would have you think: "For example, during his term Exxon Mobile has posted the largest profit of any company in a single year, and executive salaries have greatly increased as well."


Another one of my favorites: "Homosexuality is an immoral sexual lifestyle between members of the same sex. It is more than simply a sexual act, it is going beyond the boundaries that God has setup for marriage; one man and one woman."

Word. I guess the homie God don't like me.

The site boasts even more pitiful "definitions" and, of course, typos galore.

With fewer than 12,000 entries and typos galore (the misspelling of Mobil above; the mayor of L.A. is referred to as "Anthony Varigoso"), Conservapedia isn't about to supplant Wikipedia — which boasts 1.8 million articles in English alone.


Guess God didn't bless the conservatives with a firm grasp on the King's English.

Part of me didn't even want to post on this one on the simple principle of giving this type of trashiness more attention than it deserves. But as I began playing around on it, it humored me. Besides, it's always good to know what opposing ideologies you're up against.

Even though I might find Conservapedia hilarious, it's scary how serious this resurgence of conservative activism has become. It's no longer an issue that can be swept under the rug or cast aside as a "liberal/conservative" debate. This site is targeting high school students, who probably will watch the Simpson's movie and attend increasingly segregated schools. This is real, and folks from the Supreme Court to the schoolyard are steady waving that big banner of white supremacy with no holds barred. My questions is: what are we going to do about it?