I want to investigate Hannah Arendt’s stance on the role of education and compare it to Richard Rodriguez’s view on bilingual education, as expressed in his memoir about growing up as a minority student. I will focus on the private/public distinction that prevails in both Arendt and Rodriguez’s thought and how such rigid distinction informs both the role of authority of the teacher in the classroom, and the bilingual education debate. Given the length of this paper, I only wish to present some of the problems that such views generate, without specifically posing a conclusion yet.
Discussing the role of education, Arendt’s thinking takes an unexpected turn in her emphasis on authority. The task of education according to Arendt is to mediate between the old and the new individuals or generations by introducing youth to a pre-existing world, and to prepare them for the life in the public world. The task of teachers is to help this “transition from the family to the world” as a “representative of all adults inhabitants, pointing out the details and saying to the child: this is our world” (p. 189) As long as the adults know more about what the world is, they must have the authority over children, and the relations between teachers and children must not be equal.
Here, Arendt’s thought could be read as conservative in the sense that authority rules over a dialogical relationship between student and teacher, and in fact, Arendt is critical about modern educational theories arguing that these conflate work with play, and theory with practice. Yet Arendt’s point seems to be that inequality is necessary if we are to assign responsibility to the older generations who are introducing the world to the new ones. Arendt writes: “The teacher’s qualification consists in knowing the world and being able to instruct others about it, but his authority rests on the assumption of responsibility for that world” (p. 189).
So in that sense, authority, education, and the responsibility for the world are linked together. Paradoxically, to preserve and save the revolutionary aspect of every child: the newness, and to introduce the new into an old world, Arendt argues that “education must be conservative” (p. 193) Her emphasis upon authority is a tool to promote the future freedom of the new generations, she writes: “education too is where we decide whether we love our children enough not to expel the from our world and leave them to their own devices, nor to strike from their hands the chance of undertaking something new…but to prepare them in advance for the task of renewing a common world.” (p. 196).
It is this fundamental place of inequality that makes education different from other realms such as the social or political spheres, and yet education should strive to preserve the revolutionary in every child. So for the sake of preservation, Arendt’s view is that “we divorce the realm of education from the others…in order to apply to it alone a concept of authority.” (p. 189) so the current crisis in education, to Arendt, is one of loss of authority in the classroom. If Arendt’s thought in The Human Condition promotes humanity and freedom, then humanity follows after education; in the same way that education must end before political discourse can begin. Inequality in the realm of education becomes a means to facilitate teaching and learning, without forgetting what may be revolutionary of every child.
This produces a series of problematic consequences, for example: does one’s education end once one graduates and is introduced to the world? And what happens if adults end up replicating the authoritarian models of their childhood education in the political realm? Further, an old generation may take away the freedom of the new one. We see this with the scientific phenomena of cloning, where a being may be created with pre-existing qualities chosen by the scientist, and also in the propagation of racist and sexist teaching practices carried on by the older generations. It is here where the careful balance between teaching and learning is broken and the revolutionary in every child is lost before she may bring it into the public sphere.
Richard Rodriguez in his memoir Hunger of Memory writes about his educational journey from Spanish speaking boy to becoming an English speaking citizen. His controversial view on bilingualism is that the use of a native language, which Rodriguez considers to be a “private language” in the classroom would harm rather than aid the facilitation of the student into the public realm. Rodriguez writes:
“Bilingual education is a program that seeks to permit non-English speaking children, many from lower class homes, to use their family language as the language of school. I hear them and am forced to say no: It is not possible for any child ever to use his family’s language in school. Not to understand this is to misunderstand the public uses of schooling and to trivialize the nature of intimate life-a family’s ‘language’” (p. 5)
It is his rigid distinction between public and private realms that could be compared to Arendt’s thought on education. Both Rodriguez and Arendt see the realm of education as a preparation for the public sphere, and both argue that certain spheres should remain separate. In other terms, if Arendt’s focus on authority could be translated into an English-only policy in the classroom, then both Arendt and Rodriguez would be defending a more conservative theory of education with a similar goal: The task of preparing in advance the new generation for renewing a common world. That is, language-minority children growing up in homes where languages other than English are spoken would be encouraged to transition from the home language to English so as not to be disadvantaged inn the public sphere.
Yet the rigid separation between public and private realms in the bilingual education debate assumes a naturalized connection between the English language and the public sphere. The native language, thus, bears the mark of inclusion or exclusion depending on what sphere it is performed in. For example, Rodriguez narrates how speaking in Spanish outside of the intimacy of his home gave him both a sense of public separateness in relationship to los gringos, but also provided him with a reminder of such intimacy or home. One could even argue that this precise feeling of estrangement is what preserved the revolutionary, and that his native language offered a space for the development of such identity.
The rigid separation between Spanish as an intimate language and English as a public language, where Spanish then becomes the other, non-white language functions within the separation between public and private spheres. Critic Jeyum Lim in his article “The Performance of Bilingualism in Richard Rodriguez” has argued that Rodriguez develops a “politics of intimacy” where “loss, then, becomes constitutive of the citizen in the public sphere.” (p. 520) such concept of loss could be understood though estrangement or the ongoing disconnect between one’s self in the intimate realm, and one’s self in the public sphere. And although such disconnect is not the healthiest politically or psychologically, Rodriguez seems to find no other option than to choose one over the other.
So on one hand, the public sphere is the area where the human condition may strive freely as long as the citizen speaks the public language at the cost of estrangement from the intimacy of a native language. On the other side, the native language is spoken only in secluded spaces guarding one’s intimacy at the cost of its own diminishment.
Rodriguez also writes about the authority of teachers, and his thought sides with Arendt’s in that those teachers have the responsibility to lead the new generations from the private sphere into the public one. Focusing on the responsibility of the school as a sphere which teaches students about their public identity, he writes:
“It would have pleased me to hear my teachers address me in Spanish when I entered my classroom. I would have felt less afraid. I would have trusted them and responded with ease. But I would have delayed-for how long postponed?-having to learn the language of public society.”
We have to wonder at what cost the child assimilates to her new public identity. If a student is not to use its own family language in the school, she will probably feel afraid and unable to respond for a period of time. Further, what type of violence would an English-only policy be committing to the cultural and racial realities of the future citizen who is to occupy an old world? The idea of banning native languages from the classroom could be compared with the recent book banning in Arizona.
On Jan. 1, 2012 Arizona’s ban on the Mexican American Studies curriculum used in Tucson high schools went into effect. The MAS program has, by all educational standards, been successful for more than a decade. The Arizona legislature confiscated textbooks from MAS classrooms. The list includes “Occupied America: A History of Chicanos,” Paulo Freire’s “Pedagogy of the Oppressed,” “Rethinking Columbus,” “Critical Race Theory,” Shakespeare’s “The Tempest” and “Chicano!: the History of the Mexican American Civil Rights Movement.” The main reason offered by the legislature is that they are opposed to complicating students’ understanding of what race is or how race works. This is also an argument used in defense of English-only policies: An opposing stance to complicating students understanding of languages and culture. So as long as they pick one over the other and as long as the choice is the language spoken by white America, then there should be no complications for the young generations. Their real concern in Arizona, as stated in the bill, was about “solidarity” and “resentment,” so by normalizing, we also are at risk of extinguishing that which is revolutionary in every child.
My point is that policies against bilingualism and, currently, against a program that supports studies on race are in effect because legislature is scared of a curriculum that might foment an anti-white sentiment among impoverished populations of Mexican, Central American, and other immigrant students. This is a good example of an older generation taking away the freedom of a new one, and it may offer some insight about the consequences of political authority at work in the educational sphere (realms which, according to Arendt, should remain separate).
In this sense, the rigid separation between public and private spheres is only preventing those minority students to both embrace their native language and culture, and question their status of representability as citizens in the public sphere. It was my point in this paper to show how Rodriguez’s stance in the bilingual education debate is informed by a rigid separation between public and private realms which leaves him with no other option than to choose one language over the other. I also hope to have shown how the responsibility of the teacher and the relationship between authority and the revolutionary are fragile concepts which need to be carefully balanced in the sphere of education.
Sources
Arendt, Hannah. Between Past and Future, Eight Exercises in Political Thought. NY. New York. Penguin Books. 1968
Arendt, Hannah. On Revolution. NY. New York. Penguin Books. 1965
Alcoff, Linda. In Arizona, Censoring Questions about Race. The New York Times. 2012
http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/04/01/in-arizona-censoring-questions-about-race/
Rodriguez, Richard Hunger of Memory: The Education of Richard Rodriguez. Bantam Books. NY. New York. 1982
Monday, April 16, 2012
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Shit Men in Philosophy Say
I am finishing my MA in Philosophy at Stonybrook University and am extremely grateful for the friendships I have in this department. Not only have I seen myself and classmates grow as thinkers, writers, and philosophers, I am also happy for their successful entry into PhD programs all over the country (of those who applied this year, 100% got into at least one of their top 5 choices). And in these past years I have enjoyed the hours spent after class at Desmond’s continuing academic conversations, and talking about jobs, relationships, insanity, art, and Foucault
(somewhere and always in the background).
So I want to start out this blog by stating that the male female relationships here at Stonybrook have been exceptional, compared to the experiences some women have to go through in philosophy ( for further highlights, go here: http://beingawomaninphilosophy.wordpress.com/page/2/)
My male classmates ask me what I think, they usually back me up when I speak up, and they identify with me as philosophers, in both formal and informal settings. It’s pretty awesome.
But, there is also the reality of being a woman in Philosophy, and the comments I sometimes have to hear from males in the field. Kelsey and I talked about this over some sake last week, and I came up with a list of some of the shit guys in philosophy say, specifically referring to my experience sitting in classes at Stonybrook or later, at the bar. It is in my biggest hope to think that they were either drunk or stoned when they said this, although some of these comments are by professors…So it goes.
1) “I know I am being intentionally confliatory with this but…”
2) “Sounds like a straw man argument”
3) “Oh, don’t get me started on assimilation....”
4) “Don’t get me started on feminism...”
5) "Don't get me started on Race..."
6) “I think your argument would prove more fruitful if you changed it, and focused on this Heideggerian concept instead, just saying.”
7) “Transgendered people are only 2% of the population, why can’t we just focus on the fact that we are all human beings, I’m a humanist man.”
8) “I know a guy friend who got raped too. So men can also get raped.”
9) “So, when you realize you are oppressed as a woman, does it feel like you are “coming out” as a feminist, like when you tell people you are gay?
10) “You don’t talk enough in class. You should just talk more.”
11) “S is dating D! And you are seeing K? and M is gay too? I knew you were all lesbians.”
12) “I know I’m just a TA, but I don’t think the professor is leading her class right. She doesn’t lecture enough!”
13) “What Carolina just said supports my argument well.”
14) "Wait. You didn't say that? Well, what Carolina meant to say supports my argument well."
15) From a male professor to a female student who walks into class late: “Hello K. Did you get a haircut?”
16) From a male professor to a female student who walks into class late: “D! Did you lose weight over the summer?”
17) From a male professor explaining Marx in class: “ Objectivization is specific in Marx, for example, I may objectify my girlfriend because she is hot, so she is alienated from her self, but reification is a different form of objectivization.”
(somewhere and always in the background).
So I want to start out this blog by stating that the male female relationships here at Stonybrook have been exceptional, compared to the experiences some women have to go through in philosophy ( for further highlights, go here: http://beingawomaninphilosophy.wordpress.com/page/2/)
My male classmates ask me what I think, they usually back me up when I speak up, and they identify with me as philosophers, in both formal and informal settings. It’s pretty awesome.
But, there is also the reality of being a woman in Philosophy, and the comments I sometimes have to hear from males in the field. Kelsey and I talked about this over some sake last week, and I came up with a list of some of the shit guys in philosophy say, specifically referring to my experience sitting in classes at Stonybrook or later, at the bar. It is in my biggest hope to think that they were either drunk or stoned when they said this, although some of these comments are by professors…So it goes.
1) “I know I am being intentionally confliatory with this but…”
2) “Sounds like a straw man argument”
3) “Oh, don’t get me started on assimilation....”
4) “Don’t get me started on feminism...”
5) "Don't get me started on Race..."
6) “I think your argument would prove more fruitful if you changed it, and focused on this Heideggerian concept instead, just saying.”
7) “Transgendered people are only 2% of the population, why can’t we just focus on the fact that we are all human beings, I’m a humanist man.”
8) “I know a guy friend who got raped too. So men can also get raped.”
9) “So, when you realize you are oppressed as a woman, does it feel like you are “coming out” as a feminist, like when you tell people you are gay?
10) “You don’t talk enough in class. You should just talk more.”
11) “S is dating D! And you are seeing K? and M is gay too? I knew you were all lesbians.”
12) “I know I’m just a TA, but I don’t think the professor is leading her class right. She doesn’t lecture enough!”
13) “What Carolina just said supports my argument well.”
14) "Wait. You didn't say that? Well, what Carolina meant to say supports my argument well."
15) From a male professor to a female student who walks into class late: “Hello K. Did you get a haircut?”
16) From a male professor to a female student who walks into class late: “D! Did you lose weight over the summer?”
17) From a male professor explaining Marx in class: “ Objectivization is specific in Marx, for example, I may objectify my girlfriend because she is hot, so she is alienated from her self, but reification is a different form of objectivization.”
Monday, March 5, 2012
Shit Students Say
I have been working as a foreign language teacher in different independent schools for 2 years, ever since I moved to NYC. This means I have experience teaching grades 4-11 by now and can deal with lots of different ages and maturity levels. Interestingly enough, I come to find that maturity is not what we make it to be. While 5th and 6th graders still act responsible and considerate, and can still look at the world with wonder, I witness how motivation decreases a lot after 7th grade, and interest is lost as students hit puberty. For example, while my last job at a small middle school gave me the opportunity to work with really motivated children who performed exceptionally well in their first year (giving me hope about being an educator) my new job is not quite the same.
To give you some examples, these are some of the statements I collected ever since I started working at an Upper School, 2 months ago:
1) Ms. Drake can we just watch a movie today?
2) Can watch this movie all week?
3) This vocabulary quiz is IMPOSSIBLE! Nobody can do it!
4) Ms. Drake, Dimash just called me Hitler! Can you tell him to stop!
5) Ms. Drake do you have a boyfriend?
6) Ms. Drake, you just gave me a yellow marker, and I am Asian. That’s so racist!
7) Ms. Drake I forgot my homework, can I give it to you at the end of the day?
8) Can I give you my homework at the end of the month?
9) Can I just give you my late homework assignments at the end of the semester?
10) Ms. Drake how can you go to grad school and also teach here? Do you even have a life?
11) I know I got an F Ms. Drake, but I’m just going to buy Rossetta Stone and learn Spanish by myself this summer.
12) Ms. Drake, what does CULO mean?
13) What does HUEVOS mean?
14) What does MIERDA mean?
15) Ms. Drake, quizzing us with ten vocabulary words every Wednesday is so UNFAIR! This is so hard nobody can do this! We already have so much to do!
16) Ms. Drake Dimash is poking me with a marker can you tell him to stop!
17) What do you mean this character in the story is “hiding something”? Is he, like, hiding a tattoo?
I still love what I do, and am really enjoying these kids. But I have to say that whenever I am not at work, and see a crowd of teenagers walking down the street, I cross to the other side. All of this to tell you journal, that I am ready for Spring break, and that I will be going to Mexico with Jasmine for vacation. Hopefully, my worst nightmare will not come true, and Mexico will not be full of drunken teenagers...the very people I am attempting to take a vacation from.
Hi Ho to that.
To give you some examples, these are some of the statements I collected ever since I started working at an Upper School, 2 months ago:
1) Ms. Drake can we just watch a movie today?
2) Can watch this movie all week?
3) This vocabulary quiz is IMPOSSIBLE! Nobody can do it!
4) Ms. Drake, Dimash just called me Hitler! Can you tell him to stop!
5) Ms. Drake do you have a boyfriend?
6) Ms. Drake, you just gave me a yellow marker, and I am Asian. That’s so racist!
7) Ms. Drake I forgot my homework, can I give it to you at the end of the day?
8) Can I give you my homework at the end of the month?
9) Can I just give you my late homework assignments at the end of the semester?
10) Ms. Drake how can you go to grad school and also teach here? Do you even have a life?
11) I know I got an F Ms. Drake, but I’m just going to buy Rossetta Stone and learn Spanish by myself this summer.
12) Ms. Drake, what does CULO mean?
13) What does HUEVOS mean?
14) What does MIERDA mean?
15) Ms. Drake, quizzing us with ten vocabulary words every Wednesday is so UNFAIR! This is so hard nobody can do this! We already have so much to do!
16) Ms. Drake Dimash is poking me with a marker can you tell him to stop!
17) What do you mean this character in the story is “hiding something”? Is he, like, hiding a tattoo?
I still love what I do, and am really enjoying these kids. But I have to say that whenever I am not at work, and see a crowd of teenagers walking down the street, I cross to the other side. All of this to tell you journal, that I am ready for Spring break, and that I will be going to Mexico with Jasmine for vacation. Hopefully, my worst nightmare will not come true, and Mexico will not be full of drunken teenagers...the very people I am attempting to take a vacation from.
Hi Ho to that.
Monday, July 11, 2011
On Self Love
After one year in this place, I am adopting the attitude of leading a blameless life in an impersonal city.
This is what I mean. There is nowhere more impersonal than a crowded 7 train running slowly to Manhattan during morning rush hour, yet I have felt the most personally angry, anxious and frustrated inside those wagons. At least commuters traveling in the L train from Brooklyn get to flirt with each other on the ride to work. They get to post Craig's list ads trying to find each other after the commute is over and meet up in Prospect Park later.
This is not the way we people from Queens ride the 7 train. Most of us are very defensive because we have to get to our non-alternative lifestyle jobs on time, and are inclined to take everything personally. So in my case, these feelings rise from the belief that other commuters want to shove their hand bags in my face on purpose, elbow me, make me late by blocking the door so that I cannot get out, also on purpose, eat their fish and seaweed sandwich in front of me at seven am so that I feel nausea all the way to 42nd street, sit with their legs spread open unnecessarily, and on purpose, etc.
I have traveled in an impersonal environment almost every day of my life for one year, and I have taken most of its annoying occurrences personally. I am not the only passenger who adopts this attitude though. I have seen a woman hit her head against the pole when the conductor announced a delay in Queensboro Plaza once, heard Latino men cuss in my language plenty of times, and a good friend of mine who has taken public transportation for the past two years has to decided to either get a car, or move to another state.
Public transportation sucks, especially during the summer months. But riding public transportation and taking every occurrence personally or blaming every occurrence on someone else is bound to drive us city dwellers crazy. Other examples from my life that involve taking an impersonal city personally are: trying to swim laps at the YMCA in Flushing while the summer camp kids and other really slow swimming people are sharing a lane with me, trying unsuccessfully to find a seat to read in the public library, waiting in line at the post office to mail a letter for my Dad, waiting for others to be done watching so that I can stand in front of that Edward Hopper painting at the MET that I like so much, spending Sundays at the Laundromat waiting for others to be done with the dryer, asking questions at the Q & A of the MOMA's Film events and having other New Yorkers boo at my self-evident question... All these and more also apply. But, the worst one really does involve taking public transportation.
To protect my precarious sanity, this summer, and to enhance my survival skills, I can either a) not leave my apartment until September, or b) approach life in the city with a different attitude. Taking things personally in such an impersonal place is a self evident contradiction, so to alleviate it I now think of bad luck as anything but accidents in a very busy place. The 7 train is stopped at Queensboro again because another person tried jumping on the rails this morning? I cannot get to class on time, again? A guy from the other lane just groped my butt while I was working on my backstroke in the pool? This lady’s elbow is piercing my back in the crowded train? I have to stay in the Egyptian section at the MET because all the tourists are flooding the Contemporary art section? I am five blocks away from getting to work on time but there is a concert on Lexington and 42nd and the whole sidewalk is blocked with half naked bodies cheering and singing along?
It’s all just accidents, accidents, accidents in a busy, busy, busy.
.
On Self-Respect
Stephenie and I are trying to find a park to sit down and eat our Chinese take-out that is getting cold. We pass through a church in the East Village. The church has a rainbow flag and a sign that says WE WELCOME THE LGBT COMMUNITY. Stephenie stops to comment SINCE WHEN DOES A CHURCH NEED TO TELL ME THAT IT’S ALRIGHT FOR ME TO GO IN AND PRAY IN THEIR BUILDING, HUH?
After one year in this place, I am adopting the attitude of leading a blameless life in an impersonal city.
This is what I mean. There is nowhere more impersonal than a crowded 7 train running slowly to Manhattan during morning rush hour, yet I have felt the most personally angry, anxious and frustrated inside those wagons. At least commuters traveling in the L train from Brooklyn get to flirt with each other on the ride to work. They get to post Craig's list ads trying to find each other after the commute is over and meet up in Prospect Park later.
This is not the way we people from Queens ride the 7 train. Most of us are very defensive because we have to get to our non-alternative lifestyle jobs on time, and are inclined to take everything personally. So in my case, these feelings rise from the belief that other commuters want to shove their hand bags in my face on purpose, elbow me, make me late by blocking the door so that I cannot get out, also on purpose, eat their fish and seaweed sandwich in front of me at seven am so that I feel nausea all the way to 42nd street, sit with their legs spread open unnecessarily, and on purpose, etc.
I have traveled in an impersonal environment almost every day of my life for one year, and I have taken most of its annoying occurrences personally. I am not the only passenger who adopts this attitude though. I have seen a woman hit her head against the pole when the conductor announced a delay in Queensboro Plaza once, heard Latino men cuss in my language plenty of times, and a good friend of mine who has taken public transportation for the past two years has to decided to either get a car, or move to another state.
Public transportation sucks, especially during the summer months. But riding public transportation and taking every occurrence personally or blaming every occurrence on someone else is bound to drive us city dwellers crazy. Other examples from my life that involve taking an impersonal city personally are: trying to swim laps at the YMCA in Flushing while the summer camp kids and other really slow swimming people are sharing a lane with me, trying unsuccessfully to find a seat to read in the public library, waiting in line at the post office to mail a letter for my Dad, waiting for others to be done watching so that I can stand in front of that Edward Hopper painting at the MET that I like so much, spending Sundays at the Laundromat waiting for others to be done with the dryer, asking questions at the Q & A of the MOMA's Film events and having other New Yorkers boo at my self-evident question... All these and more also apply. But, the worst one really does involve taking public transportation.
To protect my precarious sanity, this summer, and to enhance my survival skills, I can either a) not leave my apartment until September, or b) approach life in the city with a different attitude. Taking things personally in such an impersonal place is a self evident contradiction, so to alleviate it I now think of bad luck as anything but accidents in a very busy place. The 7 train is stopped at Queensboro again because another person tried jumping on the rails this morning? I cannot get to class on time, again? A guy from the other lane just groped my butt while I was working on my backstroke in the pool? This lady’s elbow is piercing my back in the crowded train? I have to stay in the Egyptian section at the MET because all the tourists are flooding the Contemporary art section? I am five blocks away from getting to work on time but there is a concert on Lexington and 42nd and the whole sidewalk is blocked with half naked bodies cheering and singing along?
It’s all just accidents, accidents, accidents in a busy, busy, busy.
.
On Self-Respect
Stephenie and I are trying to find a park to sit down and eat our Chinese take-out that is getting cold. We pass through a church in the East Village. The church has a rainbow flag and a sign that says WE WELCOME THE LGBT COMMUNITY. Stephenie stops to comment SINCE WHEN DOES A CHURCH NEED TO TELL ME THAT IT’S ALRIGHT FOR ME TO GO IN AND PRAY IN THEIR BUILDING, HUH?
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Untitled # 1
If insanity is doing the same thing over and over again expecting different results, then doing the same thing over and over again expecting the same results is just masochism.
This is to say that I am considering applying to graduate school, again. And there is a huge chance I will get rejected to every school I apply to, again. And that may or may not be a form of masochism, depending on how you see it.
After next semester I will have an MA in Philosophy, and I am vaguely considering going for a PhD either in Philosophy, or in Comparative Literature. If that is the case, I better start doing some research during the summer.
If you know me well, and are my friend, I know what you are thinking as you read this:
“But I thought that you were frustrated with philosophy Carolina!”
But, if you really are my friend, you also know that I was ALWAYS frustrated with philosophy, and that I may never be NOT-frustrated with philosophy, and that I am pretty stubborn. If anything, such frustration is good. It has helped inform my ideas.
The only reason I am vaguely considering putting myself through the hell of the application process a SECOND TIME, is because I would like to get money: I would like to get funded for doing philosophy, and because I think I would be an awesome philosophy teacher in the future, and I am more than happy to teach both at an undergraduate or at a community college level, making a contribution to society somehow. I know. I know this is cheesy.
On the other hand, I am not interested in using philosophy to feel superior to others, to justify my shitty or unethical behaviors, or to get laid, nor am I using Philosophy to hide from the real world while my life goes by and my relationships are left unattended; although I am probably guilty of all of these things.
I have a real job already, I like it. I have a skill. But, if anything, being around youth of different backgrounds has informed my philosophical ideas, and given me all the more reasons to stay in the field of philosophy, to try and communicate and justify my perceptions, and to critique the false narratives and universalisms based on culturally limited intuitions that are harming, rather than aiding our task of creating more meaningful communities, identities, and lives.
So, I think I want to do philosophy for the right reasons. But, now I have to convince a graduate program of this. And I was never good at selling myself.
I do think that my chances of getting accepted may be higher now that I will obtain an MA, have presented papers at two different graduate conferences, have a stronger writing sample, stronger letters, and will hopefully beg a couple of journal editors to publish my mediocre book review by the end of summer. See? I can sell myself better this time.
But the real question is: do I really want to spend even more time than I already have stressing about Philosophy? Do I even want to bother having to answer this question? And also, remember Carolina? There are 300 hundred applicants for the average schools and only 5 of them get picked. Do you know what that means? That’s just like winning the lottery. That is just putting yourself and your life plans at the mercy of luck and chance. Do you really want to waste your time again? Can’t you just be happy with what you have?
This morning, I was looking up a philosopher who teaches at Yale, but Google directed me to the “Graduate Café” instead, this is a website were applicants post their acceptances or rejections to graduate schools in Philosophy. I looked through the site for a few minutes and it brought back memories of anticipation. I remember going through this website a lot two years ago as an undergraduate student, when I was waiting for my acceptance or rejection letters to arrive. I guess I got a sense of community by reading about others who were just as anxious as I was. I saw that one particular guy who had gotten rejected from Yale, wrote this:
“Yale. Rejection letter. This means that I'm 0/17. I hate this world. Sometimes, cutting myself is the only thing that makes the pain go away. Since this was the last school I had to hear from, there's really no point in going on. Why apply next year? I'll just get rejected again. So tonight, or maybe the next night, I'm going to take my whole bottle of Adderall and wait for the darkness to come.”
Wow. That’s all I have to say.
But then again, why am I laughing at this guy like I am so different and less dramatic?
Some of my students act like this often when I give them a B. They have written e-mails to me of this sort. Some high school students I've taught are also applying to schools such as Yale because they are all unique, because they are so self involved in their own drama and poetry, and they don’t realize how similar they all are; always thinking that they will be the next David Foster Wallace. Some of my high school students have the maturity of this undergraduate student whining about his rejection in a blog, exactly the way I am whining in my blog about the sole thought of getting rejected again, and one has to wonder if graduate school is only contributing to lowering my maturity level even more.
But, I am trying to remind myself that I am not the same person I was two yeas ago, that this city has changed me, that I am older, that I look older, that I can handle things better now, that I can handle cover letters and rejections, that I have mentored people. But, I may be fooling myself. This process may go further than the insanity parameters into the field of masochism. I just don’t know. This 1,000 word blog entry is obviously proof that I am analyzing things too much, that I am being dramatic. That, in fact, I haven’t changed that much. I am going to go take my strawberry niquil now, and wait for the darkness to come, thank you very much.
This is to say that I am considering applying to graduate school, again. And there is a huge chance I will get rejected to every school I apply to, again. And that may or may not be a form of masochism, depending on how you see it.
After next semester I will have an MA in Philosophy, and I am vaguely considering going for a PhD either in Philosophy, or in Comparative Literature. If that is the case, I better start doing some research during the summer.
If you know me well, and are my friend, I know what you are thinking as you read this:
“But I thought that you were frustrated with philosophy Carolina!”
But, if you really are my friend, you also know that I was ALWAYS frustrated with philosophy, and that I may never be NOT-frustrated with philosophy, and that I am pretty stubborn. If anything, such frustration is good. It has helped inform my ideas.
The only reason I am vaguely considering putting myself through the hell of the application process a SECOND TIME, is because I would like to get money: I would like to get funded for doing philosophy, and because I think I would be an awesome philosophy teacher in the future, and I am more than happy to teach both at an undergraduate or at a community college level, making a contribution to society somehow. I know. I know this is cheesy.
On the other hand, I am not interested in using philosophy to feel superior to others, to justify my shitty or unethical behaviors, or to get laid, nor am I using Philosophy to hide from the real world while my life goes by and my relationships are left unattended; although I am probably guilty of all of these things.
I have a real job already, I like it. I have a skill. But, if anything, being around youth of different backgrounds has informed my philosophical ideas, and given me all the more reasons to stay in the field of philosophy, to try and communicate and justify my perceptions, and to critique the false narratives and universalisms based on culturally limited intuitions that are harming, rather than aiding our task of creating more meaningful communities, identities, and lives.
So, I think I want to do philosophy for the right reasons. But, now I have to convince a graduate program of this. And I was never good at selling myself.
I do think that my chances of getting accepted may be higher now that I will obtain an MA, have presented papers at two different graduate conferences, have a stronger writing sample, stronger letters, and will hopefully beg a couple of journal editors to publish my mediocre book review by the end of summer. See? I can sell myself better this time.
But the real question is: do I really want to spend even more time than I already have stressing about Philosophy? Do I even want to bother having to answer this question? And also, remember Carolina? There are 300 hundred applicants for the average schools and only 5 of them get picked. Do you know what that means? That’s just like winning the lottery. That is just putting yourself and your life plans at the mercy of luck and chance. Do you really want to waste your time again? Can’t you just be happy with what you have?
This morning, I was looking up a philosopher who teaches at Yale, but Google directed me to the “Graduate Café” instead, this is a website were applicants post their acceptances or rejections to graduate schools in Philosophy. I looked through the site for a few minutes and it brought back memories of anticipation. I remember going through this website a lot two years ago as an undergraduate student, when I was waiting for my acceptance or rejection letters to arrive. I guess I got a sense of community by reading about others who were just as anxious as I was. I saw that one particular guy who had gotten rejected from Yale, wrote this:
“Yale. Rejection letter. This means that I'm 0/17. I hate this world. Sometimes, cutting myself is the only thing that makes the pain go away. Since this was the last school I had to hear from, there's really no point in going on. Why apply next year? I'll just get rejected again. So tonight, or maybe the next night, I'm going to take my whole bottle of Adderall and wait for the darkness to come.”
Wow. That’s all I have to say.
But then again, why am I laughing at this guy like I am so different and less dramatic?
Some of my students act like this often when I give them a B. They have written e-mails to me of this sort. Some high school students I've taught are also applying to schools such as Yale because they are all unique, because they are so self involved in their own drama and poetry, and they don’t realize how similar they all are; always thinking that they will be the next David Foster Wallace. Some of my high school students have the maturity of this undergraduate student whining about his rejection in a blog, exactly the way I am whining in my blog about the sole thought of getting rejected again, and one has to wonder if graduate school is only contributing to lowering my maturity level even more.
But, I am trying to remind myself that I am not the same person I was two yeas ago, that this city has changed me, that I am older, that I look older, that I can handle things better now, that I can handle cover letters and rejections, that I have mentored people. But, I may be fooling myself. This process may go further than the insanity parameters into the field of masochism. I just don’t know. This 1,000 word blog entry is obviously proof that I am analyzing things too much, that I am being dramatic. That, in fact, I haven’t changed that much. I am going to go take my strawberry niquil now, and wait for the darkness to come, thank you very much.
Monday, April 25, 2011
My Dad is a teacher, my Mom is a teacher, I am currently a teacher. You know what my Dad has to say about teachers? "If you are ever at a party Carolina, and you start talking to someone who tells you that they are in the field of education, just run away to the other side of the room."
Hi Ho.
Despite my Dad's high opinion about teachers, and specially about teachers at parties, I have to warn you: this blog is about education. I also have to warn you that if I ever met you at a party, I can probably get your attention by talking about Derrida and Leather or about Hegel's Dialectics...But deep down, I will secretly be waiting for that moment when I can bring up education.
1) On Detachment: I was walking down the hallway today and overheard a student of mine complaining to another student, "We never learn ANYTHING in Spanish class." At this stage of the year, I try not to take anything personally. I am used to my younger students having no problem telling me that something is boring them. "Ms. Drake this is boring, we KNOW this already!" But I always take their complains as constructive criticism "Alright then, moving on..." And in a way, I am thankful that at least they say this to my face. But this specific student is a girl whom I have gone out of my way to help and prevent her from failing my class. So I think that a side of me was a little hurt by her comment. I secretly feel happy when my students tell me I'm their favorite teacher. But this was not a compliment, yet I just smiled like a grownup and kept walking down the hallway. Later during lunch, I confessed to the math teacher that I was sightly upset.
Math teacher, who has been teaching since he was 22, offered his response:
"You know what Carolina? ten years of teaching have taught me that you can get upset about someone whom you can't control, or you can just realize that in the end, they are all just dumb kids."
I like the idea of my students just being dumb kids. It makes sense. And it helps me put things in better perspective. I have, at times, been told that I care too much. And I guess I never really knew that there was something such as "caring too much" until I started teaching and realized that whenever a student was upset in my class I would get upset too. I suffered from excess empathy and it was harming rather than helping my performance. This is all to say that I still need to perfect my detachment skills from my job and from my students but I am getting much better at it. Teaching is a though job and nobody likes to be criticized, and yet, at the same time, teenagers are teenagers, they really are just dumb kids. The same kid who loves you on Monday may hate you on Tuesday. It's part of the job, it's part of my series of lessons in maturity, and it's a part of education.
2) On Hair Care: Out of curiosity, I have decided to throw out the shampoo and wash my hair with baking soda. This supposedly makes hair look better and restores its natural oils. Why not? All I know is that my hair, specially my bangs look so frizzy that I am beginning to look like an authentic middle school teacher. I don't know if this is good or bad.
3) On the subjunctive tense in Spanish: I am teaching the subjunctive tense this month and I think it's my favorite verb tense so far and I am teaching it through a socio-political perspective. My students are showing signs of life again: They seem to be engaged while learning, well, grammar! The Spanish subjunctive is the verb tense of wishes and wants. At one point in the history of Latin America, it was used by emancipatory movements who claimed "Si tuvieramos los medios de produccion, seriamos realmente libres." And sadly, it is not being used anymore. It is being replaced by the verb tenses of capitalism: by the NOW and the objects of possession of the immediate future. Whatever happened to all the longing and anticipatory tenses in our language? Saussure had it right, the mutability and immutability of the sign is such a paradox. But enough philosophy, let's get back to education.
Hi Ho.
Despite my Dad's high opinion about teachers, and specially about teachers at parties, I have to warn you: this blog is about education. I also have to warn you that if I ever met you at a party, I can probably get your attention by talking about Derrida and Leather or about Hegel's Dialectics...But deep down, I will secretly be waiting for that moment when I can bring up education.
1) On Detachment: I was walking down the hallway today and overheard a student of mine complaining to another student, "We never learn ANYTHING in Spanish class." At this stage of the year, I try not to take anything personally. I am used to my younger students having no problem telling me that something is boring them. "Ms. Drake this is boring, we KNOW this already!" But I always take their complains as constructive criticism "Alright then, moving on..." And in a way, I am thankful that at least they say this to my face. But this specific student is a girl whom I have gone out of my way to help and prevent her from failing my class. So I think that a side of me was a little hurt by her comment. I secretly feel happy when my students tell me I'm their favorite teacher. But this was not a compliment, yet I just smiled like a grownup and kept walking down the hallway. Later during lunch, I confessed to the math teacher that I was sightly upset.
Math teacher, who has been teaching since he was 22, offered his response:
"You know what Carolina? ten years of teaching have taught me that you can get upset about someone whom you can't control, or you can just realize that in the end, they are all just dumb kids."
I like the idea of my students just being dumb kids. It makes sense. And it helps me put things in better perspective. I have, at times, been told that I care too much. And I guess I never really knew that there was something such as "caring too much" until I started teaching and realized that whenever a student was upset in my class I would get upset too. I suffered from excess empathy and it was harming rather than helping my performance. This is all to say that I still need to perfect my detachment skills from my job and from my students but I am getting much better at it. Teaching is a though job and nobody likes to be criticized, and yet, at the same time, teenagers are teenagers, they really are just dumb kids. The same kid who loves you on Monday may hate you on Tuesday. It's part of the job, it's part of my series of lessons in maturity, and it's a part of education.
2) On Hair Care: Out of curiosity, I have decided to throw out the shampoo and wash my hair with baking soda. This supposedly makes hair look better and restores its natural oils. Why not? All I know is that my hair, specially my bangs look so frizzy that I am beginning to look like an authentic middle school teacher. I don't know if this is good or bad.
3) On the subjunctive tense in Spanish: I am teaching the subjunctive tense this month and I think it's my favorite verb tense so far and I am teaching it through a socio-political perspective. My students are showing signs of life again: They seem to be engaged while learning, well, grammar! The Spanish subjunctive is the verb tense of wishes and wants. At one point in the history of Latin America, it was used by emancipatory movements who claimed "Si tuvieramos los medios de produccion, seriamos realmente libres." And sadly, it is not being used anymore. It is being replaced by the verb tenses of capitalism: by the NOW and the objects of possession of the immediate future. Whatever happened to all the longing and anticipatory tenses in our language? Saussure had it right, the mutability and immutability of the sign is such a paradox. But enough philosophy, let's get back to education.
Friday, March 18, 2011
New York blends the gift of privacy with the excitement of participation. I am sitting at the moment in a small room in seventy degree spring weather, halfway down an air shaft, in Queens. My cat rests near the open windows and some air moves in an out of my room, but the building is quiet and still for the night. Yet I am curiously affected by the emanations from my daily surroundings. Today I walked twenty-two blocks from where Woody Allen filmed "Hannah and her Sisters." After work I took a Ballet class with a dancer who studied under Balanchine himself, and found out that one of my classmates writes for the New Yorker. Today I was thirty-six blocks away from the Empire State Building, and only two feet away from one of my favorite philosophers, Linda Alcoff, who was presenting a paper at the Society for Women in Philosophy. Just a couple of hours ago I had a beer somewhere with thinning lights in the Bowery area where bars are mirrored and chromed and the lingering traces of poetry and lamps are made out of whiskey bottles. Here people write their first novels made out of fresh memories. Circumstances of this sort become a part of one's daily routine in this city and put one at risk of feeling very small. And despite how many times I have complained about its never ending pace, there are nights like this, when I cannot imagine myself living anywhere else. Patti Smith used to write poetry for New York, and E. B White writes how "The capacity to make such dubious gifts is a mysterious quality of New York. It can destroy an individual or it can fulfill him, depending a good deal on luck." It all comes down to being able to handle privacy and participation in equal amounts. Too much participation can drive one insane in NYC, but too much privacy puts one at risk of missing out on luck, on the poetry made out of fresh memories and the grandiose ideas developed while riding crowded subways at midnight. Nobody should come to live in New York unless they are willing to be lucky.
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