Saturday, May 26, 2012
A Rite of Passage or Teachable Moment
You can't say, you can't play, is this a childhood right of passage or policy that should be incorporated into elementary school classrooms across the country? As I read this moving book by Paley, I pondered this question and the notion do I as an adult and emerging educator have the right to tell my students that they must include all children in all activities. By making this a classroom mandate am I establishing an unrealistic expectation for our children and/or am I setting students up for failure by taking their right to choose away? In a democratic classroom aren't students supposed to have a voice in the decision making process?
As I moved through the book, this question remained in the forefront of my thoughts. As students shared their personal stories of rejection and reflecting on my own personal experiences in school, I remember being the odd girl out sometimes and/being told I could not play. I remember being hurt but I also remember being told that not everyone has to like you or want to play with you.
As hurtful as these childhood experiences are, I believe they have value and can serve as a teachable moment. As children develop into adults they will not always be the "chosen" one. There will be times when as children and as adults they will be rejected and students need to learn how to handle rejection and not allow the rejection to be defining moment that negatively impacts the rest of their life.
I believe that Paley offers a great example in the book You Can't Say, You Can't Play for teachers especially emerging educators such as myself. The use of storytelling as a means of students opening up about the their feelings and how the would like to handle a situation served as an effective tool for discussing at his topic.
As an emerging educator, I believe it is vitally important to seek student input. By making a statement such as You can't say you can't play, provides a platform for a rich discussion on how to have hard conversations between classroom friends and how to express your feelings without being mean or harsh.
This powerful book can serve as the foundation for many fruitful classroom discussions on a variety of topics. After reading the book, I have come to the conclusion that this book is not so much about the statement "you can't say you can't play," as much as it is a book demonstrating that as an educator I must provide a safe platform for my students to discuss these types of questions and then give my students an opportunity to develop thoughtful solutions to these situations.
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I agree that Paley provides an excellent example of how to get students thinking critically by having them look into topic that directly effect them and that they care about. She also illustrates how, as teachers, we can work on our students interpersonal skills and affectively communicate their thoughts to a larger group.
ReplyDeleteReading the book, I reacted in a very similar way as you expressed above. Is her rule realistic? Would it prepare our students for the world outside of our classrooms? I came to the conclusion that Paley's methodology has strong parallels to the ideas we unpacked with Dr. Lalvani during our Disabilities Module. In her class we discussed how how many of the ideas being presented wouldn't work until society changed, but that society only changes from the bottom up: when a small group advocates for social change and acts on their beliefs. It's a hard and strenuous process, but if the YCSYCP rule starts to take hold, maybe twenty or thirty years from now, society will mirror the structure of Paley's classroom.
"Do I as an adult and emerging educator have the right to tell my students that they must include all children in all activities?"---Paley wonders about this and comes to the conclusion that she can because the classroom is a public domain. Still I wonder how this works in the true democratic sense of an emergent curriculum. If the belief is, "You can't say I have to say I'm sorry if I don't mean it" then it's difficult to imagine making a rule that bars exclusion in play...even in an inclusive classroom. But as Nicole reminded us in Camille's post, Paley used an authoritative platform for her classroom.
ReplyDeleteI think Nicole makes another great point about fostering social changes through education from an early age. In our society "You can't say you can't play" speaks against the pervasive exclusion at the foundation of all social injustices. Because of their gender, race, culture, sexual orientation, varied abilities, etc., there are many people who are excluded to the detriment of the physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual health.
Hmmm... this whole "We don't force kids to say I'm sorry" thing keeps popping back up like a bad former child star. Perhaps it requires further conversation with the folks at Ben Samuels, but I believe they said they don't force children who have NO theoretical understanding of remorse (either because of age or disability) to say I'm sorry. Rather than forcing children to parrot the words, they focus on trying to help develop the child's empathy so that s/he might develop a cognitive understanding of remorse. I don't think it has anything to do with their concept of a democratic classroom but with their concept of what is developmentally appropriate. It's not that the kids don't mean it; they believe the kids are cognitively incapable of understanding the concept (like an infant having no concept of object permanence).
ReplyDeleteWe have lots of dictates in a "democratic" classroom in order to ensure safety. No hitting. No kicking. No name calling. No weapons of mass destruction. If we know exclusion is hurtful, then why would this rule be any different?
Ultimately, I agree with Keisha that the conversations, storytelling, and dramatic interpretations of the rule are the most vital part of YCSYCP. These are the learning and growing experiences that might actually promote the students' abilities to shift perspectives and develop empathy for others. This is the true goal of character education. Moreover, even though some kids might never stop wanting to exclude "rejected" kids, removing the hindrance and barriers they set up may allow other students in the classroom to develop friendshisp with the "rejected" kids. It only takes one friendship to make a difference.
I think one of the things that keeps coming up is that children need to be protected from the "hurt" of being excluded. While I do think that the mean forms of exclusion that are intended to hurt are "wrong," one thing we haven't ever questioned is whether sometimes it is OK to be hurt.
ReplyDeleteRejection is a part of life; to act like it is not is- to Keshia's question- unrealistic. Should children always feel like every desire to be included should be indulged? Should a child always be given candy when he craves something sweet? Just because a child has an impulse does not mean it always needs to be indulged. Sometimes rejection builds independence and character. As Sherry reminds us, all a person needs is ONE friend, not a classroom full of them.
I don't wish to be misunderstood; I'm certainly not saying rejection is good or that teachers should passively allow it. But I do think it's important to consider the moments of rejection we've experienced and how they have ACTUALLY affected us. I look back on some of the rejections I can remember as a child. Some made me work harder to be included. Others made me wish to separate myself from the group and pursue my own interests. I don't think these things were traumas, but learning experiences. I wouldn't change those rejections because they became a part of who I am.
It borders on extreme paternalism and willful denial to think that we can, or even should, protect children from ever getting upset. We should certainly work to deconstruct some of the more base forms of teasing, ostracism, and isolation, but I don't think we have to over-think inclusion to the point that we start saying a single act of exclusion is by definition wrong. That denies children the ability to choose their friend groups and maybe even forces some students into uncomfortable falsely-friendly associations. Further, because of the rule, they very well may not feel comfortable voicing discomfort being around peers who legitimately make them uncomfortable.
Just because children are children does not mean we can and must protect them from ever feeling bad. It just means we protect them from the worst harms and mitigate the time and extent to which they get upset by the lesser ones. Having class dialogues can greatly aid in the teaching of those lessons, but thinking that implementing a rule will suddenly turn a classroom into a utopia is a dangerous assumption that assumes we can "build a better childhood" for all children, when I'm not sure any of us actually understands what that means.
Keshia, I think your reflection succinctly describes the main point of the book. I, too, wondered along with Paley when she questioned if establishing the rule was crossing some sort of line into children's play. I think you're right that it's not so much about the words themselves, but the opportunities that bringing it to the fore present for reflection and discussions. I think Paley learned new things about her students, and the students learned how to negotiate their free play with a rule they did not necessarily agree with.
ReplyDeleteI think you make an important point when you describe how hurtful experiences can serve as teachable moments, preparing students for the inevitability of rejection throughout life. I do think, however, that depending on the age of the students, it can be appropriate to try to maintain a bubble of security for a short period. That's not something I would have said four months ago, but I am beginning to see the importance of scaffolding young students' developmental learning. I think many battle wounds we earned that were viewed as normal rites of passage can be deconstructed and understood in a classroom.
I can parrallel the notion that Paleys rule DOES challenge what a democracy is supposed to stand for. The right to choose and have a voice in our own destiny is what defines our freedom in this country. By mandating that we include EVERYBODY in EVERYTHING, we are, in a sense, infringing on the very lesson we are working to instill in our students? We are diminishing their power as an individual to make decisions for themselves.
ReplyDeleteHowever, Sherry poses an excellent point. Where do we draw the line when creating rules designed to protect our students? Is it deemed appropraite to sheild our children from the physical harm that they will confront at the hands of their peers, but not the social or emotional attacks that they will face? Does one sting more than the other? We are arguing that social rejection can often build charcater and make us tougher or thick skinned. But cant the same be said of people who "toughen up" and develop a high tolerance to physical pain due to consistent exposure to it? We need to further unpack what our role and responsibilities truly are as educators in the classroom.