An article from CNN not long ago highlighted a controversy surrounding the ban
of Mexican-American history and perspective textbooks from classes in
Tuscon, Arizona high schools. The school board believes that the classes
and curriculum were teaching "in a biased, political, and emotionally
charged manner" and pointed to a 2010 Arizona state law that prohibits
the teaching of material that encourages the overthrow of the U.S.
government, foments hatred of any class of people, is created for a
specific ethnicity, or promotes unity among members of an ethnic group
rather than treating students as individuals.
Teachers of these courses argue that they balance the perspectives they teach and that don't teach racism. Concurrently, an independent audit found that although there exists an "overabundance of controversial commentary," nothing in the books violates the state law. The audit, instead, found that the courses promote an environment of acceptance among students.*
I once took a "Human Ecology" course in which the professor, very fervent in his attitude toward treatment of our natural resources, poured out unabashed criticism of the United States government for its role in environmental injustice. I never knew, going into that room, whether the professor that day would be fiery and abrasive or more even-tempered.
It all left a sour taste in my mouth. I remember trying to process the claims he made and check them against my own understanding, which was not very broad. Although they weren't, I remember feeling like the things he was saying were directed not at the government, but at me, like he was telling me that I was wrong for making environmental mistakes and believing some of things I believed. Some of the things he said indeed challenged my belief system; but far more than changing my perspective of environment and government, the churning emotions he produced in me during those classes led me to draw one thick, stark intellectual line between me and him, and-- more important-- to come to one indomitable conclusion: I would never use emotion to try to sway others to adopt my opinions.
Of course, this is a near-impossible goal to attain, given that emotions are so heavily involved in our interactions with others and given our need to reach goals that can be reached only with the help of others; but to this day, I loathe any effort to control what I believe about an issue. It is, I know, a grave trust issue that must have come from some source well before I ever entered that ecology classroom; but regardless of my knowledge of it, I still feel this way.
All of this is to under gird why I sympathize with the Tuscon school district rather than the teachers. With regard to education, there has been a strong movement toward empowering students to think critically through the medium of social justice issues and express the results of that thought through political action. To me, though, it feels all too similar to the experience I had while in that human ecology course. I am suspect of anyone attempting to sway kids to adopt a viewpoint on the basis of emotional appeal, and especially anger (which may not even be happening in Tuscon classrooms, but the story highlighted this belief for me). I tend to believe I'm not the only one who feels this way.**
I am, however, being hypocritical, because this belief stems from my emotional response and not my mind. Intellectually, I understand that there is great injustice in this world, and that anger and other strong emotions can be a very important and healthy first step toward doing something about it. At the same time, I believe it is necessary for a teacher to balance perspectives against one another so students can draw their own conclusions. Ultimately, my point is this: while it may be impossible to be completely even-handed in the classroom, teachers must make the effort (something which I believe the teachers in Tuscon are trying to do).
*Siek, Stephanie. "How Tuscon Schools Changed After Mexican-American Studies Ban," cnn.com
**My intuition tells me this is why "Kony 2012" received the criticism it did, despite its obviously just purpose. It was not the distant, erudite evaluation of a pernicious leader that we expect; but embraced and utilized pity and anger as part of its appeal.
Teachers of these courses argue that they balance the perspectives they teach and that don't teach racism. Concurrently, an independent audit found that although there exists an "overabundance of controversial commentary," nothing in the books violates the state law. The audit, instead, found that the courses promote an environment of acceptance among students.*
I once took a "Human Ecology" course in which the professor, very fervent in his attitude toward treatment of our natural resources, poured out unabashed criticism of the United States government for its role in environmental injustice. I never knew, going into that room, whether the professor that day would be fiery and abrasive or more even-tempered.
It all left a sour taste in my mouth. I remember trying to process the claims he made and check them against my own understanding, which was not very broad. Although they weren't, I remember feeling like the things he was saying were directed not at the government, but at me, like he was telling me that I was wrong for making environmental mistakes and believing some of things I believed. Some of the things he said indeed challenged my belief system; but far more than changing my perspective of environment and government, the churning emotions he produced in me during those classes led me to draw one thick, stark intellectual line between me and him, and-- more important-- to come to one indomitable conclusion: I would never use emotion to try to sway others to adopt my opinions.
Of course, this is a near-impossible goal to attain, given that emotions are so heavily involved in our interactions with others and given our need to reach goals that can be reached only with the help of others; but to this day, I loathe any effort to control what I believe about an issue. It is, I know, a grave trust issue that must have come from some source well before I ever entered that ecology classroom; but regardless of my knowledge of it, I still feel this way.
All of this is to under gird why I sympathize with the Tuscon school district rather than the teachers. With regard to education, there has been a strong movement toward empowering students to think critically through the medium of social justice issues and express the results of that thought through political action. To me, though, it feels all too similar to the experience I had while in that human ecology course. I am suspect of anyone attempting to sway kids to adopt a viewpoint on the basis of emotional appeal, and especially anger (which may not even be happening in Tuscon classrooms, but the story highlighted this belief for me). I tend to believe I'm not the only one who feels this way.**
I am, however, being hypocritical, because this belief stems from my emotional response and not my mind. Intellectually, I understand that there is great injustice in this world, and that anger and other strong emotions can be a very important and healthy first step toward doing something about it. At the same time, I believe it is necessary for a teacher to balance perspectives against one another so students can draw their own conclusions. Ultimately, my point is this: while it may be impossible to be completely even-handed in the classroom, teachers must make the effort (something which I believe the teachers in Tuscon are trying to do).
*Siek, Stephanie. "How Tuscon Schools Changed After Mexican-American Studies Ban," cnn.com
**My intuition tells me this is why "Kony 2012" received the criticism it did, despite its obviously just purpose. It was not the distant, erudite evaluation of a pernicious leader that we expect; but embraced and utilized pity and anger as part of its appeal.
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