April 14, 2010

I’ve been away for a few days, celebrating the life of my grandmother, who spent more than 40 years teaching on plantations, homes of those for whom she cleaned and washed, and conventional classrooms in the state of Louisiana. She, and many of my relatives who are educators, is the reason teaching has always been a career possibility for me. I spent most of my visit listening to my parents, aunts, cousins detail their own experiences in the classroom, from how to keep students’ attention, to understanding why those who don’t want to learn feel that way. Between them all, I counted more than 200 years of cumulative experience in education, from elementary to college. My older relatives did remind me that I have chosen to teach in an entirely different era, one in which teachers are not respected as they once were, especially in the African American community, that group charged with the task of molding and preparing young men and women to go out into the world and become self-supporting, free-thinking individuals who contributed to their community and the greater society. From what they see and have heard from my generation of educators, many children in the current learning environment come to school with way more baggage than when they were standing before students, teaching, and not asking young people to get off cell phones, come to class, stop cursing at each other (or the teacher), so they may eventually understand that they (students) are the future human resource, and that the information and learning concepts teachers are trying to impress upon them is the formula they will need to survive, prosper and be legitimately employed, in whatever endeavor they choose. Unfortunately, though, none of my relatives, young or old, could give me insight on what to do when a student puts his hands on a teacher, and the teacher ends up with institutional abuse charges levied against him, then must wait as the school district administrators and child welfare investigators deliberate to learn if he will be able to teach in the state of New Jersey again. “You just gotta pray on it now”, said my mom, an elementary teacher of 32 years. “Baby, I’m just glad you ain’t get hurt.”

This morning, I’m now reading about the rally held last Saturday, at the Lighthouse Outreach Ministry, in response to the recent alleged sexual assault involving two girls, age 15 and 7. I am still trying to learn more about was discussed, outside Russell Simmons’ pledge to partially fund a peace-keeping effort in Trenton. The group, Educating Neighborhoods to Obey Those in Authority (ENOTA), along with Peacekeepers will, hopefully, squash violence in our streets as summer approaches. Sounds good, but weren’t the Guardian Angels walking the streets of Trenton at one time, trying accomplish the same thing? The name of the former group describes its mission, which is to help people recognize and respect those in authority. Does “teacher” still fall in the category of “those in authority”, or has that list been pared down to only mean police? I did speak to a gentleman, Baye Kemit, who spoke at the event, specifically about the need to improve the method in which we are trying to educate the children in our city. I hope he wasn’t the only one to bring this subject to the forefront of all our minds and keep it there until it gets better. Someone has to understand that until we impress upon students and their parents how education will pave a road to self-sufficiency and, thereby, a better life, nothing will change. Please remember in the initial reporting of the incident at Rowan Towers, the 15 year old girl allegedly handed the seven year old a handful of money, which supposedly, in part drove her to spend time with these alleged suspects. Many of the young people in Trenton see that and other illegitimate methods as their means of survival and self-sufficiency, not to mention dependency on government assistance that have become the norm in generations of families. Such actions and dependencies are learned behaviors. Many young people in Trenton, and around the country, see grown men and women doing everything under the sun to survive except educate themselves and, thusly, become self-supporting. Any social scientist can prove that whatever model parents create, the child will, nine times out of ten, follow almost to the letter. I see it every time my sons pick up a book. They do it because, from birth, they saw their parents reading newspapers, novels, and magazines. During Saturday’s rally, I hoped someone might have publicly challenged a social studies teacher in this district teach a lesson on welfare and Aid to Dependent Families, so they can learn that Franklin D. Roosevelt on created it in the 1940’s so families can get back on their feet in the years during and after the Depression, and not as a sole method of income. A light may go off in the head of the student in that class who has never seen his parents or grandparents get up and go to a job, even though they have control of their mental and physical faculties. The lesson absorbed just may drive that student to go home and ask his elders, who spend an entire day at home for reasons within their control, “Why don’t you work?”

All that said, here’s an idea: Since places like Rowan Towers have social workers on site to assist families in various ways, why not set up a reward program for children and parents. Children making good grades in school could receive prizes. One prize that would almost certainly incite parental involvement could be discounted rent for every “A” the student living in Rowan Towers brings home. There’s a chance that the parent may try to help their child perform, for the result could benefit the entire family.  We can talk all day about what’s wrong, but we also need to pray, and brainstorm to come up with some ways to make this thing called education not be such a foreign concept among our citizens, young and old. I’ve put an idea out there for you, now contribute some feedback, or share this idea with someone who may be able to make it happen, then get back with me.

Skip Harrison is an educator, freelance journalist, and parent, residing in Trenton, New Jersey.