Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Thursday, April 2, 2009
Dewey and My Tech Lifestyle
Binary Contemplation from Flickr: Goodnub
Lisa: This post is not directly connected to the topics we've been looking at in class - but is rather a response to some of the ways I've been working and thinking over the last few years.
I’ve had this growing agitation or frustration lately about my use of technology, and in particular, my newly developed addiction to blogging and twittering. I’ve been a ‘heavy user’ of RSS feeds for a number of years, but it’s only been in the last few months that I’ve really started to become an active online participant. Let me start by saying it’s been a very interesting an eye-opening experience, and I’m excited about the potential of my growing Personal Network.
However, I’ve also felt a growing lack of depth in my thinking. I used to be a heavy book reader, loving the experience of picking up large tomes of literature or philosophy and getting lost in the depth of an intriguing character or well-developed idea. I used to enjoy finding a new author, reading as much as I could, discovering biographical information to help me understand the place from where the words were coming.
But over the last number of years, this habit has fallen away. I think it has to do with a number of factors, the busyness of teaching or the (perceived) need to keep up with emerging trends. But I’m starting to wonder if it also has to do with the way I consume most of my information now – through digital media.
I remember loving RSS feeds, when I finally figured them out. I immediately subscribed to a large number of blogs, and loved (and still do) getting the daily influx of new ideas, tools and websites. Checking my Google reader is still part of my daily routine, and plays a significant role in my professional growth. I’m now having the same experience using Twitter, as there’s an even greater draw to an instant connection with fascinating people and ideas.
However, I’ve also felt a growing lack of depth in my thinking. I used to be a heavy book reader, loving the experience of picking up large tomes of literature or philosophy and getting lost in the depth of an intriguing character or well-developed idea. I used to enjoy finding a new author, reading as much as I could, discovering biographical information to help me understand the place from where the words were coming.
But over the last number of years, this habit has fallen away. I think it has to do with a number of factors, the busyness of teaching or the (perceived) need to keep up with emerging trends. But I’m starting to wonder if it also has to do with the way I consume most of my information now – through digital media.
I remember loving RSS feeds, when I finally figured them out. I immediately subscribed to a large number of blogs, and loved (and still do) getting the daily influx of new ideas, tools and websites. Checking my Google reader is still part of my daily routine, and plays a significant role in my professional growth. I’m now having the same experience using Twitter, as there’s an even greater draw to an instant connection with fascinating people and ideas.
However, a nagging voice has begun in my head. I sense that my learning experience is getting shallower. I feel I am gathering a ton of information, but I’m not gaining much deep understanding. I’m feeling that the overwhelming amount of intellectual and professional stimulation is both addictive and potentially damaging to me. I don’t blame the technology for this – I usually see tools as ethically neutral – but rather my own attitude toward them.
I’m realizing that for myself, it much easier to surf across the ever-growing wealth of new content than it is to dig down and wrestle with the key questions. All day long my RSS reader and Twitter inbox are full of new links/sites/tools for me to play with – and I find that experience very satisfying. But it also feels lazy to me.
The last couple days I’ve been reading John Dewey. As a graduate student, Dewey’s ideas continually surface in assigned reading and seminar discussions. While I’ve had a general sense and attraction to Dewey’s educational philosophy, I’ve been wanted to dig deeper into some of his writings. I’ve had the sense that in his work I would find a voice to help me develop my practice more fully. In addition to that, since I’m immersed in inquiry-based learning, I want to develop a sense of the heritage or lineage of that pedagogical method.
So I start to read “How We Think” (1910), and within the first few chapters, Dewey is clearly speaking to me from a century ago. Dewey’s asserts a number of elements or characteristic of thinking, and makes the basic point that the act of thinking is the natural tendency for humans to make inferences or possible suggestions based on sensory perception. Thinking is natural, in fact so natural that Dewey states, “it is not we who think, in any actively responsible sense; thinking is rather something that happens in us.” (34)Interesting. Thinking is like breathing. All humans do it – even without thinking.
In terms of education, what I’m gathering from Dewey so far is that teachers cannot teach students to think. They do it anyway. Rather, students should be engaged in activities and experiences that model good thinking.
Dewey believes that the ability to think well rests in the quality of inferences or suggestions that a particular person produces. Thinking exist on a spectrum, from a mindless approach to reflective inquiry. And the reflective inquiry is what separates strong thinkers from weak thinkers. Dewey highlights three dimensions of inferences: ease or promptness, extent or variety, and depth or persistence. It’s the last one of the three that gives voice to some of my experience with Web 2.0.
“Facts, whether narrow or organized, and conclusions suggested by them, whether many or few, do not constitute, even when combined, reflective thought.”(39) In a sense, this is my experience with the overwhelming influx of information and ideas through my online connections. I have no shortage of “facts” – but do have a shortage of reflective thought.
Dewey goes on: “The suggestions must be organized; they must be arranged with reference to one another and with reference to the facts on which they depend for proof.” This is where the work comes in – and the work that I have not been doing. I’ve been gathering, bookmarking, tagging, skimming, blogging, twittering the onslaught of information that has come across my screen over the last few years. But have I organized it, reflected on it, sat with it, dug into it? That’s the quiet nagging voice that is writing today
As I read, Dewey gives direction to me. A reflective inquiry should strive for continuity, which “means variety and change of ideas combined into a single steady trend moving toward a unified conclusion.” I love that Dewey is not after rigidity or fixed conclusions, but opens the space up for a ‘variety and change of ideas.’
“Holding the mind to a subject I like holding a ship to its course; it implies constant change of place combined with unity of direction. All kinds of varied and incompatible suggestions may sprout and be followed in their growth, and yet thinking be consistent and orderly, provided each one of the suggestions is viewed in relation to the main topic.” (40)
So this is where the work comes in. I’m realizing that merely gathering information doesn’t cut it. I need a course, a direction, a final goal to which I guide and steer my inquiry. I sense I need more consistency in my thinking, more reflection in what I consume, and more time to sit with fewer ideas. I also think I need to pick up books more.
Overall, I think I need balance.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Everything Old is New Again
I’m feeling really challenged in my current graduate class. I have always considered myself someone who has a strong reading level, but I’m starting to feel frustrated by my inability to read interpretative work as critically as I should. On many of the assigned readings this term I feel I’m missing the point, taking the material at an overly literal level, missing the deeper questions, connections and themes that others in the class seem to be drawing out of the material.
I’m thinking that I need to step back and apply some different reading strategies in order to have a more critical stance toward the material. On a number of the articles, I have followed Lisa’s suggestion to find background material on the author, as an understanding of the philosophical and methodological foundation of the writer will help to unpack the purpose or slant of the piece. I have seen this to be particularly true of the historical pieces, on the Tompkins and Hodgins pieces early on. I have found this to be a useful way to start an article, one I should have been applying before Lisa’s recommendation.
I’m thinking that I need to step back and apply some different reading strategies in order to have a more critical stance toward the material. On a number of the articles, I have followed Lisa’s suggestion to find background material on the author, as an understanding of the philosophical and methodological foundation of the writer will help to unpack the purpose or slant of the piece. I have seen this to be particularly true of the historical pieces, on the Tompkins and Hodgins pieces early on. I have found this to be a useful way to start an article, one I should have been applying before Lisa’s recommendation.
While this approach has been useful, I need to begin adopting some other critical ways to unpack the material in our readings. So, over the next few posts I want to attempt a synthesis of some of the readings we had covered, and try to pull out some of common themes or strands that have emerged throughout the course so far.
The first theme that emerges for me is the cyclical nature of teaching practices in education. In my short time in profession, it has been often pointed out that education suffers from pendulum swings in guiding principles and theories, and the articles we have read in class have confirmed this notion. As teacher at an inquiry-based school, I find it interesting to go back to the ideas of Dewey, over a 100 years old, and see that his philosophies of inquiry and democracy are sound as fresh and alive today as when they were first penned. I also found it fascinating in the von Heyking article that Alberta was once a hotbed and leader in radical and progressive ideas about teaching and the child. The idea of “enterprise” learning sounds so contemporary to my ears, and it’s description as “a series of purposeful activities arising out of the pupil’s needs and interests and revolving about one central theme,” reminds me of cross-discplinary inquiry projects called “Quest,” that became the foundation of our school’s charter in its early years. Many of the same debates and ‘new’ ideas still surface, such as the first category of the ‘integrated’ Programme of Studies which stated that “students should develop thinking and reasoning as opposed to unrelated memorization of facts.”
I see an interesting connection with one of the current ideas in education, “21st Century Learning.” As someone who in embedded in the world of technology and education, I see and hear the notion of 21st Century learning being batted around (and like many trendy theories, used to sell all sorts of educational tools and materials). While I’m not personally comfortable or sold on the idea of a new 21st century student or learning model, I find a connection between some of the language that is being used today and some of the progressive approaches of the first have of the 20th century.
In her article, Von Heykins writes about Dr. Donalda Dickie’s address at the Alberta School Trustee’s Association Convention. In her address, Dickie argues that the political and economic deadlocks of the day required students to be able to think for themselves in order to survive the unknown world ahead, and that “modern politics was characterized by conflict and debate.” Von Heykins then quotes from Dickie’s address, writing:
“ What does the individual need for successful living?” Well he needs courage and humour and to be able to get along with other people; he needs initiative, imagination, self-reliance, judgment, the power to co-operate. Where is he to get these things? Not sitting in his seat learning facts by heart. If educations is really to count, it must affect the nature and character of the child and it can do that only if he does something, if he is provided with opportunities for experience.”
And where do we see the parallels today? The “Partnership for 21st Century Skills” is a well-funded organization in the United States that promotes itself as, “the leading advocacy organization infusing 21st century skills into education.” They believe that significant change must come to education in order to prepare students for an unknown and rapidly changing world. What I find interesting is some of the statements that are part of their framework for 21st Century Learning:
o Learning and innovation skills are what separate students who are prepared for increasingly complex life and work environments in the 21st century and those who are not, including: Creativity and Innovation, Critical Thinking and Problem Solving, and Communication and Collaboration
While some of the language is different, I see parellels between the ideas. Are the foundations ideas behind Progressivism in Alberta 70 years ago that different from the ‘emerging’ trends today? What is also interesting is that among documents that are available for download on the Partnership for 21st Century Skills' website is a white paper entitled, "21st Century Learning Environments." Skimming through the document, I found it so interesting that Dewey's name came up numerous times. In my opinion, it seems the cycle has just come round once again.
The first theme that emerges for me is the cyclical nature of teaching practices in education. In my short time in profession, it has been often pointed out that education suffers from pendulum swings in guiding principles and theories, and the articles we have read in class have confirmed this notion. As teacher at an inquiry-based school, I find it interesting to go back to the ideas of Dewey, over a 100 years old, and see that his philosophies of inquiry and democracy are sound as fresh and alive today as when they were first penned. I also found it fascinating in the von Heyking article that Alberta was once a hotbed and leader in radical and progressive ideas about teaching and the child. The idea of “enterprise” learning sounds so contemporary to my ears, and it’s description as “a series of purposeful activities arising out of the pupil’s needs and interests and revolving about one central theme,” reminds me of cross-discplinary inquiry projects called “Quest,” that became the foundation of our school’s charter in its early years. Many of the same debates and ‘new’ ideas still surface, such as the first category of the ‘integrated’ Programme of Studies which stated that “students should develop thinking and reasoning as opposed to unrelated memorization of facts.”
I see an interesting connection with one of the current ideas in education, “21st Century Learning.” As someone who in embedded in the world of technology and education, I see and hear the notion of 21st Century learning being batted around (and like many trendy theories, used to sell all sorts of educational tools and materials). While I’m not personally comfortable or sold on the idea of a new 21st century student or learning model, I find a connection between some of the language that is being used today and some of the progressive approaches of the first have of the 20th century.
In her article, Von Heykins writes about Dr. Donalda Dickie’s address at the Alberta School Trustee’s Association Convention. In her address, Dickie argues that the political and economic deadlocks of the day required students to be able to think for themselves in order to survive the unknown world ahead, and that “modern politics was characterized by conflict and debate.” Von Heykins then quotes from Dickie’s address, writing:
“ What does the individual need for successful living?” Well he needs courage and humour and to be able to get along with other people; he needs initiative, imagination, self-reliance, judgment, the power to co-operate. Where is he to get these things? Not sitting in his seat learning facts by heart. If educations is really to count, it must affect the nature and character of the child and it can do that only if he does something, if he is provided with opportunities for experience.”
And where do we see the parallels today? The “Partnership for 21st Century Skills” is a well-funded organization in the United States that promotes itself as, “the leading advocacy organization infusing 21st century skills into education.” They believe that significant change must come to education in order to prepare students for an unknown and rapidly changing world. What I find interesting is some of the statements that are part of their framework for 21st Century Learning:
o Learning and innovation skills are what separate students who are prepared for increasingly complex life and work environments in the 21st century and those who are not, including: Creativity and Innovation, Critical Thinking and Problem Solving, and Communication and Collaboration
While some of the language is different, I see parellels between the ideas. Are the foundations ideas behind Progressivism in Alberta 70 years ago that different from the ‘emerging’ trends today? What is also interesting is that among documents that are available for download on the Partnership for 21st Century Skills' website is a white paper entitled, "21st Century Learning Environments." Skimming through the document, I found it so interesting that Dewey's name came up numerous times. In my opinion, it seems the cycle has just come round once again.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
Struggling with the Grand Narrative
Response to Timothy Stanley
One of the articles that has resonated with me lately is the supplemental reading by Timothy Stanley, on the role of grand narratives in the study of history. In this article Stanley argues for three positions: 1) that grand narratives in Canada (and other colonizes countries?) start with the arrival of European explorers, 2) that grand narratives follow, almost exclusively, the expansion and settlement experiences of Europeans, and 3) that grand narratives are not the objective “truth” from the past, but rather one interpretation among many.
As I have written before, my teaching position this year is a grade seven Humanities teacher, which puts me in a position of teaching the “entire” history of Canada. My own background has very little deep training of Canadian History. I have only one direct university course in Canadian History, so I feel my understanding has been derived mostly from the public history that surrounds me, what Stanley has labeled “the most widely circulated, common-sense representations of the past, of the CBC's "Canada: A People's History," of beer commercials, of the Canada Hall at the Canadian Museum of Civilization, and of innumerable high school history textbooks and speeches by political leaders.”
Due to my own experience with Canadian History, I feel I rely on the grand narratives that make it easy for an immigrant (which I am) to understand and make sense of the history of this place. I realize that the grand narrative of which Stanley speaks is easy and comfortable for me, because I am a white, male. I can pick up and make sense of the public history, with little trouble. Additionaly, because the narratives are a comfortable way for me personally to make sense of Canada’s history, my role as a history teacher flows naturally out of the common-sense view of our past.
Part of me doesn’t see a problem with teaching a form of Grand Narrative. My current line of thinking is that students need a unified or cohesive model of history to follow, in order to make sense of the place where they live. I understand that the grand narrative is not the experience for a number of groups of people within our population, and that a history that focuses on the decisions and power struggles of dead, white males, marginalizes and excludes certain voices. However, I do see a place for these events and a history that weaves together the significant (and by significant, I am using Levesques criteria of Profundity, Quantity, Durability and Relevance) historical events from our past. For myself, it is important that students have a factual and detailed understanding of how our current country came to be.
However, I do realize that the study of our past cannot focus solely on the “winners” or the dominate group. A history that is overly romanticized, or uses the narrative for power and authority over other groups is a dangerous narrative to be teaching our students. In my own teaching, I am striving for a balance between a form of the grand narrative, one that traces the ‘significant’ political, social and military events, while attempting to weave in the voices and experiences of the excluded voices.
But part of the issue for myself, and for a number of other teachers who I have spoken with about the issue of teaching history, is that our content knowledge or experience drives much of how we see our past, and then what we past on to our students. How do we include the marginalized stories when they are not our own, and even more so, how do we honour them when, most of the time, we don’t know those voices exist? I need to come back to this issue - I feel I have much more to figure out about being a "history teacher." There is so much of my daily teaching experience that centers around my understanding of history.
On
One of the articles that has resonated with me lately is the supplemental reading by Timothy Stanley, on the role of grand narratives in the study of history. In this article Stanley argues for three positions: 1) that grand narratives in Canada (and other colonizes countries?) start with the arrival of European explorers, 2) that grand narratives follow, almost exclusively, the expansion and settlement experiences of Europeans, and 3) that grand narratives are not the objective “truth” from the past, but rather one interpretation among many.
As I have written before, my teaching position this year is a grade seven Humanities teacher, which puts me in a position of teaching the “entire” history of Canada. My own background has very little deep training of Canadian History. I have only one direct university course in Canadian History, so I feel my understanding has been derived mostly from the public history that surrounds me, what Stanley has labeled “the most widely circulated, common-sense representations of the past, of the CBC's "Canada: A People's History," of beer commercials, of the Canada Hall at the Canadian Museum of Civilization, and of innumerable high school history textbooks and speeches by political leaders.”
Due to my own experience with Canadian History, I feel I rely on the grand narratives that make it easy for an immigrant (which I am) to understand and make sense of the history of this place. I realize that the grand narrative of which Stanley speaks is easy and comfortable for me, because I am a white, male. I can pick up and make sense of the public history, with little trouble. Additionaly, because the narratives are a comfortable way for me personally to make sense of Canada’s history, my role as a history teacher flows naturally out of the common-sense view of our past.
Part of me doesn’t see a problem with teaching a form of Grand Narrative. My current line of thinking is that students need a unified or cohesive model of history to follow, in order to make sense of the place where they live. I understand that the grand narrative is not the experience for a number of groups of people within our population, and that a history that focuses on the decisions and power struggles of dead, white males, marginalizes and excludes certain voices. However, I do see a place for these events and a history that weaves together the significant (and by significant, I am using Levesques criteria of Profundity, Quantity, Durability and Relevance) historical events from our past. For myself, it is important that students have a factual and detailed understanding of how our current country came to be.
However, I do realize that the study of our past cannot focus solely on the “winners” or the dominate group. A history that is overly romanticized, or uses the narrative for power and authority over other groups is a dangerous narrative to be teaching our students. In my own teaching, I am striving for a balance between a form of the grand narrative, one that traces the ‘significant’ political, social and military events, while attempting to weave in the voices and experiences of the excluded voices.
But part of the issue for myself, and for a number of other teachers who I have spoken with about the issue of teaching history, is that our content knowledge or experience drives much of how we see our past, and then what we past on to our students. How do we include the marginalized stories when they are not our own, and even more so, how do we honour them when, most of the time, we don’t know those voices exist? I need to come back to this issue - I feel I have much more to figure out about being a "history teacher." There is so much of my daily teaching experience that centers around my understanding of history.
On
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Battle Re-enactments and the Role of the Past in the Present
Over the last few weeks, I’ve been fascinated by the debate about the scheduled re-enactment of the Battle of Plains of Abraham. I have found myself reading through many of the news articles posted about the event, such as this and this, as well as the (literally) thousands of comments that people have posted in discussion groups about the issue. Clearly, in our country, historical events are not dead and past, and debates about the historical meaning and significance of the “facts” still incite emotion and debate.
The event is the 250th anniversary of the Battle of the Plains of Abraham, and while it is this particular re-enactment that is sparking debate, this event is not an isolated one, but rather one in a series of re-enactments of events that occurred between 1754-1763. Interestingly other battles, including the Battle of Sainte-Foy, which I understand was a French victory (the last during the Seven Year’s War) that was much more fatal to both the English and French Armies than the Plains of Abraham that had occurred a year earlier. Also interesting is the fact that the planning for this event is being organized by a federal agency, the National Battlefields Commission, and that the planning for this event goes back at least 5 years.
While reading the articles on this event, I found myself struggling with which side I supported. At first, I thought the voices that were reacting to the re-enactment were over-reacting. There are many nations around the world through frequently re-enact historical events, many which are bloody battles that divided their country. Civil war reenactments are common, and seem to exist without the passionate debate that has accompanied this particular event.
However, after reading through some of the articles and comments, I found my opinions starting to change. I realize that in other nations, such as the USA, the divisions between the historical separate parties are no longer as enflamed (thinking again of the Civil War reenactments). And in those countries where divisions still exist, such as Northern Ireland, the re-enactments (such as the Orangemen marches) as occasionally accompanied by violence and controversy.
As I wrestled with the issue, I also found my own historical understanding was limiting my opinion. I have always viewed this particular battle as “key event” in the creation of our county, which initially led me to disagree with those against the re-enactment. As I researched additional information around the historic event, I realized the complexity of the situation and how this particular event was one among many, as was not the mythical event that led to the “Fall of New France”. I realized that I have taken a “heritage” approach to the event, giving it mythical status, without taking the time to develop and informed opinion. I see now that this particular event was not as central to our history as I once believed, and that I need to continue to develop a mature understanding of the events of the past. I also see that I am being to questions the idea of “our history” at all, whether it is desirable, or even possible to view our nation this way. I have always viewed history as our story of the past – even if the interpretations of the events are malleable. Now I am seeing that “our story” might not exist – that the past is rather a collection of stories – and in the case of Canada, stories being told be a multitude of voices and perspectives.
The larger issue for me is the place of re-enactments in our country. Again, my first opinion was a certain level of comfort with them. Naively, I saw re-enactments as a way to experience the events of the past – but as I spend more time in the study of history, I realize this is impossible. All re-enactments are interpretations, and I after reflection I see creating a detached, objective experience is not possible. What were are left with is the interpretation of the victor. I also thought that re-enactments might be a venue in which to celebrate “our” past and provide a spark of interest and engagement in the study of our past. Like I have written before, I wonder whether heritage has a place in the classroom, as it has the intention purpose of creating feelings of nationalism, patriotism and passion. Could re-enactments play a role?
After reflection, I now see the danger and pitfalls of this attitude. The issues of British/French relations run so deeply through our past, and continue to enflame citizen today. I see that it is impossible to create a politically neutral re-enactment, just as it is impossible to create a historically objective one. I see that re-enactments fall prey to the weaknesses of heritage – and that if they educate at all, the teach a simplified, emotionalize and overly patriotic version of the past. Interestingly, historican Desmond Morton was quoted as saying that re-enactment do little to educate, but rather fail because “the uniforms and drums and gunfire tend to overshadow everything else.”
The event is the 250th anniversary of the Battle of the Plains of Abraham, and while it is this particular re-enactment that is sparking debate, this event is not an isolated one, but rather one in a series of re-enactments of events that occurred between 1754-1763. Interestingly other battles, including the Battle of Sainte-Foy, which I understand was a French victory (the last during the Seven Year’s War) that was much more fatal to both the English and French Armies than the Plains of Abraham that had occurred a year earlier. Also interesting is the fact that the planning for this event is being organized by a federal agency, the National Battlefields Commission, and that the planning for this event goes back at least 5 years.
While reading the articles on this event, I found myself struggling with which side I supported. At first, I thought the voices that were reacting to the re-enactment were over-reacting. There are many nations around the world through frequently re-enact historical events, many which are bloody battles that divided their country. Civil war reenactments are common, and seem to exist without the passionate debate that has accompanied this particular event.
However, after reading through some of the articles and comments, I found my opinions starting to change. I realize that in other nations, such as the USA, the divisions between the historical separate parties are no longer as enflamed (thinking again of the Civil War reenactments). And in those countries where divisions still exist, such as Northern Ireland, the re-enactments (such as the Orangemen marches) as occasionally accompanied by violence and controversy.
As I wrestled with the issue, I also found my own historical understanding was limiting my opinion. I have always viewed this particular battle as “key event” in the creation of our county, which initially led me to disagree with those against the re-enactment. As I researched additional information around the historic event, I realized the complexity of the situation and how this particular event was one among many, as was not the mythical event that led to the “Fall of New France”. I realized that I have taken a “heritage” approach to the event, giving it mythical status, without taking the time to develop and informed opinion. I see now that this particular event was not as central to our history as I once believed, and that I need to continue to develop a mature understanding of the events of the past. I also see that I am being to questions the idea of “our history” at all, whether it is desirable, or even possible to view our nation this way. I have always viewed history as our story of the past – even if the interpretations of the events are malleable. Now I am seeing that “our story” might not exist – that the past is rather a collection of stories – and in the case of Canada, stories being told be a multitude of voices and perspectives.
The larger issue for me is the place of re-enactments in our country. Again, my first opinion was a certain level of comfort with them. Naively, I saw re-enactments as a way to experience the events of the past – but as I spend more time in the study of history, I realize this is impossible. All re-enactments are interpretations, and I after reflection I see creating a detached, objective experience is not possible. What were are left with is the interpretation of the victor. I also thought that re-enactments might be a venue in which to celebrate “our” past and provide a spark of interest and engagement in the study of our past. Like I have written before, I wonder whether heritage has a place in the classroom, as it has the intention purpose of creating feelings of nationalism, patriotism and passion. Could re-enactments play a role?
After reflection, I now see the danger and pitfalls of this attitude. The issues of British/French relations run so deeply through our past, and continue to enflame citizen today. I see that it is impossible to create a politically neutral re-enactment, just as it is impossible to create a historically objective one. I see that re-enactments fall prey to the weaknesses of heritage – and that if they educate at all, the teach a simplified, emotionalize and overly patriotic version of the past. Interestingly, historican Desmond Morton was quoted as saying that re-enactment do little to educate, but rather fail because “the uniforms and drums and gunfire tend to overshadow everything else.”
Monday, February 9, 2009
Anthems and Objects: Heritage in the Classroom
I found the last set of readings quite interesting, having never thought about the significance of classroom decoration before. I think this is a result of a number of factors, including the school where I currently teach, as we don’t have any overtly political ornamentation on our walls. However, two years ago, we started playing “Oh Canada” each morning, something I was a little uncomfortable with when it first started. Throughout the entirety of my public school experience I never attended a school where either the national anthem or any pledge or prayer was recited, and so the ritual each morning was a new experience for me.
So far, I have enjoyed the morning anthem, more for its classroom management advantages than the citizen-building or patriotic aspects that the anthem might stand for. During the national anthem, students stand respectfully quiet, which provides a appropriate leading off point for the morning classroom duties. I suppose the anthem itself is not what I appreciate, but the exercise of a quiet, shared, respectful moment.
I have also never considered deeply what the anthem might mean for different populations and voices within our country, and how many groups identify strongly or negatively toward the written message. I plan to soon engage my students in a dicussion about the morning ritual, as I am curious to know their responses to a number of questions: Do they relate to the lyrics of our national anthem?
Do they have any family connections/stories/traditions involving the anthem?
What are they thinking about during the national anthem?
Why do they think the anthem is played everyday?
After last week’s discussion and readings, I’m starting to notice public displays of Canadian culture, and I’m seeing a repeated connection with the notions of heritage and history. I wonder if it’s because we live in such a multi-cultural, multi-heritage nation, but it seems like the celebration of any voice leads to the exclusion of others. I brings me back to similar questions that I’ve raised before – is it possible to celebrate our history or culture in a fair and just way? How do we take up our culture fabric in an honouring way?
So far, I have enjoyed the morning anthem, more for its classroom management advantages than the citizen-building or patriotic aspects that the anthem might stand for. During the national anthem, students stand respectfully quiet, which provides a appropriate leading off point for the morning classroom duties. I suppose the anthem itself is not what I appreciate, but the exercise of a quiet, shared, respectful moment.
I have also never considered deeply what the anthem might mean for different populations and voices within our country, and how many groups identify strongly or negatively toward the written message. I plan to soon engage my students in a dicussion about the morning ritual, as I am curious to know their responses to a number of questions: Do they relate to the lyrics of our national anthem?
Do they have any family connections/stories/traditions involving the anthem?
What are they thinking about during the national anthem?
Why do they think the anthem is played everyday?
After last week’s discussion and readings, I’m starting to notice public displays of Canadian culture, and I’m seeing a repeated connection with the notions of heritage and history. I wonder if it’s because we live in such a multi-cultural, multi-heritage nation, but it seems like the celebration of any voice leads to the exclusion of others. I brings me back to similar questions that I’ve raised before – is it possible to celebrate our history or culture in a fair and just way? How do we take up our culture fabric in an honouring way?
I noticed this public display when working in Kelowna over the weekend and immediately noticed a connection with the ideas from last week. The object was mounted on the wall entering the Faculty of Education at the Okanagan campus of the University of British Columbia. It appears as though it is a classroom project, and my assumption of the work is that students choose a symbol or image to represent their understanding of Canadian identity, with the knowledge that they would be piecing them together to create the unified artifact. There are 28 tiles that have then been collected, mounted and painting with the overlying Maple Leaf as the unifying symbol.
What I found interesting at first was the choices (and I’m assuming that it was the students, not the teacher) made about which symbols and images would be used on the individual tiles. There’s a wide range of sports (Lacrosse, Hockey, basketball, snowboarding sailing, canoeing, taboganning, ballooning) to clothing items (mitts) to some historic items (James Naismith presumable inventing basketball, the CPR) and mixed cultural symbols (masks, buffalo and various fish, apple and school books, a loonie, Inuit?). I wondered what the exercise in the classroom might have looked like – what had the teacher asked the student’s to do? Was there a focus? Was there criteria for deciding which topics to make? I wonder if the student’s had the opportunity to see the final assembled product, and if so, did they engage in discussion about the collective message? Were they asked whose voices were represented? Did they wonder whose voices were missing? What events are represented? What events are absent? I keep going back to our early discussions – what criteria do we utilize to determine historical significance? Cultural significance? In a nation with so many voices – how we/should we decide these issues? What might Levesque or Seixas say about this piece? Should be we critical of the historical thinking it demonstrates?
I also find the unification of the individual pieces with the Maple Leaf interesting. Perhaps I’m analyzing too deeply, but does the creation of 28 individual tiles, merely painted over with a national symbol, create a unified national display? There is nothing on any tile that demonstrates an awareness or dialogue with the rest. Do we live in a country of fragmented groups/regions/cultures/nationalities that united by veils of nationalism such as flags and anthems? What is the heritage/history/story that brings us together? What do we all have in common?
What I found interesting at first was the choices (and I’m assuming that it was the students, not the teacher) made about which symbols and images would be used on the individual tiles. There’s a wide range of sports (Lacrosse, Hockey, basketball, snowboarding sailing, canoeing, taboganning, ballooning) to clothing items (mitts) to some historic items (James Naismith presumable inventing basketball, the CPR) and mixed cultural symbols (masks, buffalo and various fish, apple and school books, a loonie, Inuit?). I wondered what the exercise in the classroom might have looked like – what had the teacher asked the student’s to do? Was there a focus? Was there criteria for deciding which topics to make? I wonder if the student’s had the opportunity to see the final assembled product, and if so, did they engage in discussion about the collective message? Were they asked whose voices were represented? Did they wonder whose voices were missing? What events are represented? What events are absent? I keep going back to our early discussions – what criteria do we utilize to determine historical significance? Cultural significance? In a nation with so many voices – how we/should we decide these issues? What might Levesque or Seixas say about this piece? Should be we critical of the historical thinking it demonstrates?
I also find the unification of the individual pieces with the Maple Leaf interesting. Perhaps I’m analyzing too deeply, but does the creation of 28 individual tiles, merely painted over with a national symbol, create a unified national display? There is nothing on any tile that demonstrates an awareness or dialogue with the rest. Do we live in a country of fragmented groups/regions/cultures/nationalities that united by veils of nationalism such as flags and anthems? What is the heritage/history/story that brings us together? What do we all have in common?
Additional thoughts on this post: (March 15th)
As I've been reading and wrestling with the Stanley article, the notion of the grand narrative continues to circle. I find it interesting going back to this educational object, that is it is physical and visual attempt at a grand narrative. By overlaying the Canadian flag over these 28 images, I get the feeling of unity and cohesion between the tiles. I also get the sense that this is the complete "Canadian experience." Again I wonder, who's grand narrative is created and hung on this wall? Interestingly, Stanley writes that "Canadians in fact do not have a common history, and no single narrative will ever make it so." How many social studies classes around the country have engaged in similar exercises of narrative building? Do I?
Sunday, February 1, 2009
The Making of Citizens
I found last weeks reading on the foundations of Canadian Curriculum to be quite interesting, even thought I feel I missed the critical lesson that was to be learned about the importance of understanding the perspective and history of authorship.
One idea that I was fascinated by was the obvious tie between the school system and the type of citizenry the government was attempting to mold. I thought some of Ryerson's comments were so interesting, particularly when his purposes were so overtly stated. Specifically, I found the comments about immigrant children to be shocking, more of a comment on the current values that I read back into the text. As Tomkins writes, " Schooling was viewed as the prime means of uplifting them (immigrants) and their children from iniquity to Canadian levels of morality and industry."
I was also intrigued by the attendance medal brought in by one of my classmates. I love how this is a symbol of the important goals of education at the time, a celebration of what was valued at certain time and a certain place. I also found it interesting how the owner of the medal still valued it meaning and memory, almost as though the physical object represented a story that someone likes to know/tell about themselves. I saw it as a another object in the questions I have about personal memory versus collective memory and the stories we use to define ourselves. I think we like to create our own heritage and think its our history.
I also wonder what the medals for today's students might look like. Are we still striving for "good conduct, punctuality, regularity and diligence?" in our schools today? It's a great question for me as a teacher to reflect on which four values would I put on a school medal and are they the same as the foundation of the curriculum(s) that I teach.
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