Butler, Education and Me

So I chose to write about Butler and about this, I am surprised. By all intents and purposes, I feel that I should be drawn to Focault and his metaphor of the panopticon. In so many ways, I see my student’s lives dictated and controlled under the watchful guard of school authority – which I believe is at the heart of the Achievement Gap. Yet I do not want to write about Focault and his institutions. It is to Butler and her gender/sex/natural/cultural/feminine/phallogocentric world that my thoughts seem to return to again and again. I was initially surprised by how intrigued I am with Gender Trouble, given that some of what she writes does not resonate with me. I do not mean that I doubt her theories, or even disagree with them. I mean that I have suspended judgment on some of her observations of gender and sex, simply because I do not know how to feel about them.

After giving more thought to Butler’s appeal, and the way that I tend to navigate the world in general, I realize that this lack of feeling is where my intrigue lies. Normally, I steer through theories that are new to me by creating an empathic link. I connect with the humanity about whom the theories or philosophies are derived. Faces of students, family members, neighbors, and friends replace those of the theoretical subjects, and I get it. I feel it; I walk their paths and in doing so, understand the theory on a level that encompasses more than a left-brain comprehension of terminology and syntax.

But what does one do when confronted with the realization that as the subject of the theory now in question, she was never given the language or the perspective to view the path she has walked – and continues to walk -in any other way than as what it is? In other words, my connection to feminist theory has always been in the recognition of subjugation of a woman by a man, not in the very definition of what each gender/sex embodies respectively. I cannot feel this and because I cannot, I am in unchartered territory. Because I am in unchartered territory, I am intrigued.

So the initial surprise I mentioned above, has given way to delight – and it is delight – in the opportunity to connect to humanity in a way I have not previously attempted, and more importantly, to reconfigure my own place within that world. Thus my path through Butler, education and me, must diverge. The first is the part of Butler that is familiar – that coheres with the path I have walked the past thirty-five years. The second is the unfamiliar – the unknown – the path that by virtue of having my eyes opened to it, I most certainly must follow as surely as I must leave the other behind.

The Familiar

I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge that the basic premise of Butler’s work did not align with my beliefs in the idea of constructed performativity. In fact, Derrida’s deconstructionism is how I approach teaching literature in my classroom. Every novel – especially the classics – is held under the microscope of what “truths” have been constructed by reason of the author’s place in history, gender (sex), socio-cultural and socio-economic background. It is the only way to be combat much or the patriarchal, classist, and White supremacist doctrines that have infiltrated most of the literary canon. It is the only way to create a culturally responsive, equitable classroom in terms of student engagement to the curriculum.

In that respects, the idea that “only men are ‘persons’ and there is no gender but the feminine” (p. 27) is a familiar concept to be applied across culture and class. Only Whites are persons so the only culture is one of color. Only middle class is normative so class issues are directed at people of low income. Individualism is self-sufficiency – collectivism is needy. Capitalistic gain is success – simple living is sloth. Stoicism is strong – emotions are weak. These examples are “set within the terms of cultural hegemonic discourse predicated on binary structures that appear as the language of rationality” (p. 12) and are “defined by what they lack” (p. 13) in the same way as the binary opposition of the male/female sexes.

These truths I recognized long ago, so in this way, the feminism of Butler is the feminism I understand. The term “tomboy” invokes a belief in what qualities predicate a girl in direct relation to what predicates a boy – the specifics of this cross over to my unfamiliar path so I will discuss this further later. Another example is the idea of female promiscuity. Again, there is a constructed definition of what are appropriate sexual actions by women, and by nature this conversation would not exist if the definition was not initially determined based on the interaction of women with men.

Even terms like “presidential’ or “professional” really carry these predications. As I discussed in class, would the discussion of Sarah Palin’s of Hilary Clinton’s actions be described as unpresidential, if at first we had not constructed the idea of what presidential really meant in terms of men and women? Would the office-wear decorum of skirts without hose be “unprofessional” if the standard of “professionalism” was not male slacks?

Returning, then, to education, it is primarily my objective to empower girls not to internalize the phallogocentric discourse that permeates every institution, media form and social interaction these young women experience. Literature, again, provides the medium for deconstructing these beliefs and awakening them to the cultural hegemony to which they partake. I must confess, I usually have very passionate feminists by semester’s end – some that are boys by the way – and I firmly believe that by unmasking the nature of the “truths” they have internalized, the door is open to the possibilities that lie before them. However, I have a poster in my classroom that states, “A girl is anything she wants to be” and though this is wonderful in its precept, I recognize it as unnecessary if the assumption was not first that a girl is something already defined. This is where my path of thirty five years stops.

The Unfamiliar

I struggle with the idea of having one base of reality from which to work – which is the contradiction that is created in Gender Trouble. Butler recognizes the binary opposition between males and females by nature of existence – and really physical parts – but does she allow for this opposition to be reciprocal? What I mean is that if we acknowledge this opposition, can we not say that a man is defined by everything that is not women, and the significance, or the judgment, or the bias upon that statement is what is actually constructed? One of the ideas that was significantly life-changing for me a few years back, was the Frerian concept of the oppressor as dehumanized by dehumanizing others. This opens an entirely new realm of thinking in regards to whom the victim is and by what measure. This idea of “lacking”, again, is constructed with the idea that the male opinion has been the most significant. I have never felt like I was lacking anything by not having a penis, but rather that men attach a ridiculous amount of importance to having one. Growing up with two brothers and now watching my husband and son frequently celebrate their male parts, I find myself nonplussed by this propensity to define oneself by a protruding part of one’s anatomy.

I know that men have historically held the power based on that anatomical protrusion, so I am not trying to be naïve, but to even engage in this discourse at all, seems to contradict what Butler is arguing. It is like a series of double negatives upon double negatives – a kind of chicken and egg argument. The familiar path has told me that true feminism is acknowledging all that is female and embracing it – not necessarily throwing out the definition all together. That too, seems to suppose a set definition already in existence. Does the definition of feminine really only become problematic when limitations or rewards are placed upon that definition? By ignoring gender/sex qualities, are we enacting the gender/sex equivalent of color blindness?

Butler is saying no, and I have to get my head around this. I have always thought of feminist issues along the same lines as race issues, but Butler’s arguments draw a decisive line between the two. For women, “’being’ the phallus is always a ‘being for’ a masculine subject who seeks to reconfirm and augment his identity through the recognition of that ‘being for’” (p. 61) is a constructed belief system that crosses all cultures and incomes and is really a form of global hegemony, unlike forms of race and class discrimination that are culturally enacted. In addition, the heterosexual ideal in its establishment of gender/sex, is a hegemonic belief of which I abide simply because of whom I love, and the institutions I have followed. That is something to think about – both personally and in regards to what has been normative within my classroom.

This sheds new light on my existence as a married woman who speaks frequently about her husband and children. What beliefs am I promoting simply because I have a ring on my left hand? What limitations is that placing on the girls in my class – if any? Is simply stopping homophobic remarks and promoting acceptance of all peoples enough, or does true feminism come by way of making homosexuality as normative as heterosexuality? I have always thought the term “feminism” a useless term in itself, simply because of the binary opposition implied by the word. In that sense, does it even become important if the ultimate goal is to allow everyone his/her dignity and humanity? Am I being sexuality blind by even suggesting that?

I know I need to read Gender Trouble again to process these thoughts, and then move on to the ideas that will make more sense having done this. Until then, I suspect these concepts will be smacking me in the face at all angles, much like a new vocabulary word that pops repeatedly once it has been brought to a students’ attention. I welcome this, which ultimately brings me back to why I enjoyed Butler’s work. I consciously make my life decisions by what will make me the most humane person I can be. The idea that I may be hurting anyone, including myself, because I have not entertained the idea of a constructed reality not previously brought to light, is just not acceptable.

Bourdieu, Culture, Education and Me

Bourdieu, Culture, Education and Me

The Secret

On page 199, Schwartz states Bourdieu’s findings on education and social inequality by claiming, “The higher education system reproduces, rather than redistributes, the unequal distribution of cultural capital.” I have the urge to wipe my hands together with finality and say, “That’s all I’ve got. I’m done here.” To me, this is it. This is at the heart of the reason I am in this class and that I have entered the Culture and Teaching program here at the University of Minnesota. Reading about Bourdieu’s sociology has grounded so much of what I have witnessed, believed and lived these past years, and has given me cause to reflect on the path I currently find myself charting. I like this. It balances me and reaffirms that the choices I have made and continue to make are not without merit.

So as I reflect on why and how I find myself entangled in an educational world that Bourdieu himself (if he were alive) could employ as the perfect illustration of his social theories, I think of “The Secret”, by Rhonda Byrne. I dislike the basic premise of this book – that we create our conditions by the law of attraction – simply because of the privilege that such an idea entails. I find it hard to believe that genocide, poverty, child abuse, rape, racism – all the suffering that have been forced upon innocents - was somehow the result of negative thinking. (This is how I get the reputation as a fun-killer by the way. I just can’t seem to help myself.) What I do appreciate about this idea is the rewards of maintaining focus on one’s passions. I have found that by staying true to who I am and what I believe, related opportunities have unfolded, unforced, before me. And when I am confronted with said opportunities, I take them, because I can trust they arose for the right reason - which brings me to Bourdieu, culture, education and me.

Meeting Them Where They Are At

I became a teacher for many of the same reasons my peers became teachers. I wanted to make a difference. I wanted to have an impact on the lives of young people. I wanted to change the world. Only here is the thing – I really wanted to change the world – at least the world of education. I had many ear problems growing up that required a number of surgeries and extensive absences from school. Without going into too much detail, I can firmly attest that these health problems significantly affected the way I viewed the world – my habitus – if you will. I knew what it felt like to be different, and I could clearly see the shortcomings of the educational system when it came to those who did not hold symbolic capital. So I wanted to change that.

I entered the classroom knowing the importance of meeting my students where they were at – no matter what their background – no matter what they brought to the table. I was not, however, equipped with the proper tools to do so. At that time, Howard Gardner and Isabell Briggs Meyers were my only expert sources for assessing the needs of my students. I had nothing else from which to draw. Learning styles were the trend. Teachers were recognizing the need to differentiate – we were just stuck in the same old mode of how it should be done – which Bourdieu would say is to be expected. He believes, “Habitus tends to shape individual action so that existing opportunity structures are perpetuated” (p. 103). We did not know what we did not know.

I did recognize that learning and personality styles were not the end all, be all of individualizing instruction. I made efforts to bring multiple perspectives into the curriculum, and I worked to give students agency in the class, but I knew I was missing something. Intuitively, I sensed the innate unfairness in the curriculum, but I did not have the language or the experience to adequately teach the inequities. I made stabs at having students rewrite pieces from various perspectives, but it did not work. I know now that they could not begin to even recognize another perspective, because they, too, were limited by their habitus, and the very field that served to blind them to the lives and experiences of others. “Fields elicit assent to existing social arrangements and thereby contribute to their reproduction to the extent that they engage actors in field autonomy” (p. 128). There was no way for them to deconstruct any of the literature, because they were not provided with the tools to first recognize how it was socially constructed. It was four years into my teaching experience when all of this was to change.

Reading the World

It was a staff development day, and all of the English teachers in the district were packed into a stadium-style lecture hall at one of the district high schools. Agendas were doubling as fans, and the air was thick with coffee breath and body odor. Bored eyes rested expectantly on the wild-haired red-headed woman dressed all in black, as she patiently waited for the stragglers to find a home in whatever empty space was available. When the room was settled, our then curriculum director introduced her as Deborah Appleman, professor at MaCalester College. It wasn’t two minutes into her presentation before she had us laughing, and not more than five before we were hooked. She introduced us to using literary theory in the secondary classroom. To illustrate the feminist theory, she questioned a veteran teacher about the characters in Of Mice and Men, specifically asking him the name of Curly’s wife. He thought for a moment, and then understanding dawned in his eyes, “Curly’s wife”, he responded, and his tone held admiration. She provided example after example of how using theory gave language to the inequities presented - or suggested – within the language of our texts, and in the world around us. More importantly, she justified why it matters to do so. The veteran teacher she had questioned shook her hand before he left; telling her it was the best staff development he had ever experienced. I left there knowing I had found what I had been missing.

Theory in Practice

I have to admit, it took me a number of years to understand, apply, and teach literary theory, but I worked at it, and my methods have changed significantly from when I began. For example, Bourdieu’s concept of class, which Schwartz states, “takes into account other stratifying factors such as gender, race or ethnicity, place of residence and age” (p.154), is more or less the way I originally taught Marxist theory. It was not until I was introduced to Cultural Theory that I recognized how limiting Marxism really was – which Bourdieu rejects as class reductionism. I also did not do Derrida’s theory of Deconstruction the justice it deserved. I knew it even then, but I did not let it phase me. When kids started claiming that my class changed their lives – that they liked themselves better now – that they felt like they were finally learning something they could use in real life, I took that as my sign to continue.

Our Changing Demographics

It was not long after I started using Literary Theory that Coon Rapids went through a huge population change. In five years time, we went from 5%students of color, to 25%. The change in the demographics of our students brought about the change in the attitudes of our faculty. Teachers whom I would normally consider to be student-centered, caring, and conscientious became threatened by their inadequacies in meeting the needs of all of our kids.

No Child Left Behind with its AYP and teacher accountability placed expectations on educators unlike any they had ever experienced. Instead of reflecting on their own teaching styles, they turned their frustration on the kids, blaming them, their backgrounds, and their lack of cultural capital for all of the problems in the school and specifically in their classrooms. Phrases like, “Our changing demographics”, “These populations”, and “Our subgroups”, became acceptable euphemisms for blatantly racist comments. They taught and still teach students of color with what Richard Valencia and other researchers describe as the deficit approach. They assume that if students of color do not assimilate to the educational values of White schools, it is their fault if they do not succeed. This approach does nothing but serve to cause conflict. As Bourdieu suggests, “Orthodoxies generate heterodoxies. . . Challengers oblige the old guard to mount a defense of its privileges; that defense then becomes grounds for subversion” (p.124). As it turns out, the students were not the only challengers to the old guard.

Threat to the Curators of Culture

Students have a way of identifying allies within an adult population, especially when the alliance is necessary to their feelings of safety. Since I began using literary theory, the word has spread that I am the multicultural teacher, or the peace teacher, or just the fair teacher. I do not claim to be the only teacher who is fair and equitable in the school, but I can say with assurance that I am one of two (the other teacher is my best friend) who openly advocate for fair and equitable practices and curriculum, and model this in our own classrooms. So we both get kids who love our class – or who love to come and hang out after school, or who simply need someone to listen.

Because of my success with students, I have been asked to take part in a number of projects both at the building and the district level. These projects have been well received, and have opened up more opportunities to work on issues of equity – as I stated before. In the past few years, I have worked with Curriculum and Instruction and Student Services on researching and applying teaching strategies to close the achievement gap – in addition to becoming the kind of go-to person for using literary theory and now Critical Literacy in the classroom. I neglected to say that despite the warm reception to Deborah Appleman’s presentation that day, and subsequent sessions after, very few teachers across the district actually use literary theory - and none do to the extent that I have. This is less a positive reflection on me, than a negative one on my peers. Schwartz claims that Bourdieu, “rejects a rational model of action” (p.70) in regards to actors perpetuating hierarchy and social inequality, and to some extent, I agree. I know that because of their firm belief that the fault lies with our students of color (which is irrational), teachers are more unwilling to become “creators of culture” rather than “curators of culture” (p. 124). Still, the outright hostility I have confronted for advocating for kids, suggests to me otherwise. One of my initiatives, a professional learning community organized to help teachers begin to use multi-cultural books in their classrooms, was sabotaged by my own department leader. Besides relaying false information, she has called many of these Pulitzer Prize winning novels of little literary value, and announced at a department meeting that most of them were X-rated and could not be taught. I would say that Bourdieu’s acknowledging of “degrees of awareness” (p. 70) might be a bit understated.

A Path Defined

Despite how painful my department leader’s betrayal was for me, it was an eye opener. In the year prior to this incident, I had pulled away from the rest of the department. I was working part time with Student Services besides teaching at the high school, so that in itself, served to divide us. In addition, they would stop talking when I entered the lounge – not because they were talking about me, but because they were talking about kids, and they did not want that to get back to Student Services. So I avoided the lounge all together seeing them mainly at department meetings – where I remained vocal about my concerns, but in what I thought was a professional manner. After the sabotage, I realized my mistake. I had assumed that we could have professional differences without any repercussions. That was not the case, and because I had pulled away, a really good program died. No matter what the reason my department lead had for doing what she did, she did it. Had I been working to build bridges, the outcome might have been different.

I came to another realization through this process. School districts should not have to be using precious funds to train teachers on what they should know coming out of school. “Habitus is fairly resistant to change” (p.107), Bourdieu contends, and my own experiences concur with this. Pre-service teaching programs are not adequately preparing teachers for the classroom, They walk in with their own habitus that “tends to reproduce those actions, perceptions, and attitudes consistent with the conditions under which it was produced” (p.103) (namely the educational institution from which they came) and therefore “bring the properties of their location in a hierarchally structured social order into each and every situation and interaction” (p. 145). The research I have read on the Achievement Gap asserts that the teacher is the deciding factor in the success of students. Knowing that teachers are not being properly trained to serve all our kids, gave me cause to reevaluate my path. I realized that I could continue to try and affect the students in my classroom and to work with the district on projects that may or may not be effective depending on who is on the receiving end, or I could try to make change on a greater level. I decided on the latter and applied to the Critical Pedagogy program at The University of St. Thomas.

I was accepted to the program, but I was told that it was to be merged with the Leadership program. Eight months later, the department chairs of Leadership clarified that the term “merged” really meant “taken over” not “combined”. Critical Pedagogy could be a concentration, but it was not the degree, and it was certainly not “merged” into the content of the Leadership courses. I left the program. It was an easy decision for me, because I know what I believe (as I stated earlier). Besides the fact that the coursework was not what I wanted, what they did was unethical. I cannot knowingly stand behind an unethical institution. I emailed Dee Tedick, got the approval to apply, and came over to Culture and Teaching - and Bourdieu.

Bourdieu, Culture, Education and Me

As I said at the start of this paper, Bourdieu’s sociology weaved together a number of the ideas that had been previously floating through my thoughts as unrelated threads. His ideas of cultural capital, habitus, field, and the role the intellectual plays in each are significant to education and my role in changing it.

Bourdieu believes that “Cultural Capital . . . is the key to the intellectual field” (p. 122). I absolutely agree with this, yet it is also important to remember that Bourdieu assertion that “social space is multi-dimensional and does not reduce to a single causal mechanism” (p.146). I highlight this point for two reasons. The first relates to my earlier example of teachers taking the deficit approach to teaching students of color – and students of lower socio-economic backgrounds. Reflection on cultural capital is as much about who is privileged as it is about who has been under-privileged. The second reason is simply because I so appreciate Bourdieu’s assertion that a person’s situation is related to a cross-section of reasons, and cultural capital is but one.

Bourdieu’s acknowledgement of a person’s habitus again reaffirms the notion – in education in particular – that understanding students requires “multi-faceted” analysis. I specifically think of the works of Ruby Payne and poverty, John Ogbu and oppositional identity formation, Claude Steel and stereotype threat, and Gloria Ladson Billings when she describes the “Educational Debt” that students of color have inherited. The values of each of these works are respectable in their own right and for singular purposes, but together they allow for the multi-dimensional analysis of diverse, rounded individuals.

Bourdieu argues that “Fields specify power relations and hierarchy” (p. 292). That alone is reason to pay attention. Our students – all of our students – internalize the conditions that are passed on within the educational field. For historically privileged students, these conditions are that of superiority and entitlement over underserved populations, specifically students of color. Students of color, by reason of marginalization, internalize low expectations, discriminatory practices, and the belief that their culture has had little to offer to the greater good. Educational fields “help create the ‘misrecognition’ of power relations and thereby contribute to the maintenance of social order” (p. 126). The social order that currently exists in education is harming all our children, but most specifically our children of color. It is imperative that teachers look beyond the classroom to a more macro-level perspective. Bourdieu alleges that “Macro-level patterns of social class inequality and unequal distribution of cultural capital are linked to micro-level processes of pedagogy, evaluation, and curriculum” (p.202). If this is true, then the same works for the reverse. Pedagogy, evaluation and curriculum in schools are contributing to social class inequality in the world outside. We as teachers need to accept this responsibility and act upon it. The role of the intellectual must move beyond perpetuating hierarchy to balancing inequity – which leads to my final thoughts.

Schwartz criticizes Bourdieu for not clearly defining how his sociology will help “subordinate groups” in their “struggle against elites” once they understand their own subordination. He does not see what the actual catalyst for change would be (p. 294). This conclusion suggests to me that Schwartz may not be very familiar with the educational field. Teachers are the catalyst. We have to be. Ultimately this means that higher education is where “the unequal distribution of cultural capital” needs to be interrupted. We as teachers need to first recognize our own habitus – not in the context of “normal” or “right”, but as the influences that have led us to internalize our social conditions. Recognizing that, we fix the field. We disperse the symbolic capital, we acknowledge the cultural capital that students already possess and we re-legitimize existing social order. It can be done, but not without first acknowledging our role in the inequities that currently exist in education.

As I stated in the first paragraph, I find a level of balance in how all these ideas have come together. Reading Bourdieu has been like a little mental nudge telling me, “See, you’re okay. You’re on the right track”, and now I can reply sheepishly, “Yeah, I guess I so” and feel good about it. I want to make sure I am making myself clear. It is not at all about being “right” in the sense of winning. Because there is only one other person in my immediate proximity who sees things the way I do, and she just happens to be my best friend, I have a tendency to doubt myself - or worse yet, to feel overwhelmed to the point of hopelessness. Bourdieu’s sociology has served the same purpose as Deborah Appelman’s instruction on brining literary theory into the high school classroom did some years ago. It has given me sound academic language to articulate my passion for educational change and comfort in knowing I am learning what I need to ensure that happens.

Hail the "open concept"

I have to begin by saying that even though I recognize that I am not fully understanding the entire context from which Bourdieu drew his ideas. I find them exciting - like I want to sit down with him and say, "yes, yes, that's what I was thinking," while nodding my head furiously. Now I don't pretend to have conceptualized even 75% of his ideas, I have found frustration in the "binary distinctions" we make as citizens, educators, and nations, and I tend to fear the positivism that Swartz continually reminds us that Bordieu rejects. Because of where my head - and my heart - is at, and has been for some time, I framed the reading entirely through the lens of issues of equity. Yes - that is the author's intention, but I don't get the feeling that Bordieu addresses equity in terms of race and gender. In fact, I think he would find that to be arbitrary.

I did make connections in this way, however, which I guess is natural. Immediately in chapter one, Schwartz tells us that Bordieu believes that "all cultural symbols and practices . . . embody interests and function to enhance social distinctions"(p. 6). Which is really a matter of "othering", which I see as at the root of so many equitable issues. How does one define a man? By not being a woman. What does "acting White" mean? What is a tomboy? What does wearing a cross around one's neck mean? All of these things are making distinctions about and from other groups.

Also in chapter one, Scwartz comments that Bordieu believes that we must expose the "social unconscious" because he feels that "their public exposure will destroy their legitimacy and open up the possibility for altering existing social arrangements" (p.10). I immediately thought of critical literacy in the English classroom. I use critical theory with my students to help unfold the constructed belief systems that are subconsciously perpetuated through the author's work - and the institutional backing of this work. This helps students see themselves in a new light and combat much of the negativity they have internalized about their cultural backgrounds. It "opens up the possibility" that maybe the pervasive view is biased.

In chapter four, Bordieu's concept of cultural capital is exactly what I see in many of my students of color every day. They have not been let in on what other students have managed to accumulate just by the nature of being White. And we (the teachers) privilege the this capital that White students have accumulated - just by being White - just like Bordieu describes the French teachers doing to students who modeled appropriate language, etc. He also speaks of "symbolic capital" which is, I believe, White privilege - again what I see so many of our students unconsciously take advantage of. They get power from it. They can walk down the halls without someone stopping them for a pass. They can turn in homework late, argue with a teacher, return from lunch well past the appropriate time - and it is just kid behavior. Our kids of color do not have the same luxuries.

This leads right into the "habitus" or self-fufilling prophecy that is talked about in chapter five. Claude Steele's research on Stereotype threat supports this completely. So many of our students who have lived with the anxiety of representing the stereotype that embodies a group of which they belong, deal with that anxiety by just giving up. They check out of school - and thus fulfill the prophecy. This is the "collective disillusionment which results from the structural mismatch between aspirations and real probabilities"(113). We set our students up to fail, and on a conscious level, many teachers and students aren't even aware of it.

Again - this goes to chapter six and the "fields" that people find themseleves in based on their "combinations of capital"(122). In the educational field, these distinctions, mismatches, and imbalances in capital result in our students of color being inappropriately placed in Special Ed. classes, assigned a disproportionate amount of referrals, and in many cases, sent into the juvenile system for "crimes" that are handled much differently for White students who are in the appropriate field for White, middle class institutions.

The part that sits uncomfortably with me is my place in it all - and I've thought about this quite a bit. I am the intellectual that is supposedly above all this that Bordieu criticizes as well. I recognized that immediately when I read it. I've felt that in reading works by Freire as well. Is my strive for equality self-less. No way. I know that. My actions are motivated by what benefits me. Now it is the level of this that is floating around in my mind. Injustice makes me angry, sad, horrified. So on a simplified level, I fight it to remove myself from those negative feelings. Yet - why would I feel those feelings? Because I recognize that the irrationality of injustice makes it such that at any time it could be turned on me and my family. And that makes my actions selfishly motivated.

I didn't really talk about the "open concept" idea and why I like that, so maybe that will come out in class. In short, it is hard to take the fear out of making things racially and gender equitable without acknowledging the binary opposition that exists with that concept - that White men have to lose in order for others to gain. The open concept allows for other realities. I like it.

Reflections on Bauman's Consuming Life

I have to say that this type of writing is exactly the writing style I hate. Bauman is wordy, redundant, and borders on pompous in his delivery of ideas. I feel like I could summarize his main points down to one chapter. AND - I kind of think there is some underlying misogyny here.

It should have struck me earlier when I looked at the cover. The woman. The heels. The suggestion of kicking back after a long day of shopping - indicated, of course, by the boutique-style bags at her feet. A bit unoriginal to say the least. But I overlooked it when I started reading it, and did not think to look back at it until the end of chapter one when Bauman paraphrases Colette Dowling's warning to the "Cinderellas of the coming age" and suggests that Dowling's warning is indicative of individualism at its root. Bauman cites another critic comparing Dowling's "fear of being dependent on another person" to that of the lone "American cowboy". I must have read that part over 5 times, because I just can not believe he would be that deliberately obtuse. The story of Cinderella is that of a woman whose only way out of an abusive situation is to rely on a man to save her. Now I have not read Dowling's work, but I'm a woman, and I am educated on the history of oppression, abuse and exploitation that women have experienced and continue to experience, so this seemed pretty self-explanatory to me. And the thing is - I think Bauman knows it too. Which set me on my guard from then on out.

In the next chapter, Bauman sets up the comparison between a society of consumers to that of a society of producers. Now since he obviously scorns the consuming society, there is a suggestion that the time when our society was a producer's society was better - perhaps even ideal. Who made up that society? "society 'interpellated' most of the male half of its members as primarily producers and soldiers, and almost all of the other (female) half as first and foremost their by-appointment purveyors of services (54)". Purveyors of services? Would that by chance make them - consumers? It was at that point that I flipped back to the front cover in speculation and noted, as said above, the message the front cover sends - and how cute those shoes were - strappy, cork heeled for comfort - anyway.

I refuse to believe that someone who has the intellect to write a book like this and recognize that banishing certain peoples to the "underclass" is a "value-laden choice, not a description"(125) cannot recognize a gender stereotype. So that sat with me throughout this reading, and I have to say it did kind of dampen his credibility to me. I felt that way reading Nelson Mandela's autobiography. To me, someone who is a freedom fighter, fights for the freedom of all. Yet he downplayed the actions of Winnie Mandela, and consistently chose to only speak about women in terms of the appearance and temperment throughout the book. That was a choice on his part. Anyway - total digression.

With all that said, I found myself nodding in agreement throughout the book, and also feeling a heaviness in my heart for the mess we've gotten ourselves into. I absolutely see his words manifested in the actions and behaviors of teachers and students in the classroom. The above quote - about a value-laden choice - is the underpinings of the Achievement Gap. Teachers are unwilling to change the way they are teaching because it works for White kids, and they have found success in their methods in the past. So what is the assumption behind these kinds of statements? That the fault lies with our kids of color. Time magazine published an article last year that claimed to update readers on the current state of NCLB. By the end of the article, I was so furious, I decided I would not trust anything written in Time again. It gave factual information - who was doing well - who wasn't - but there was no context for any of the information. The assumption was that the Achievement Gap exists because Whites and Blacks exist. Our teachers are modeling that same assumption when they refuse to look at their teaching methods. They do not know our kids, and they do not recognize the privileged lives they have lived in a world that has catered directly to them.

Our teachers will make comments about kids buying iPods and cell phone, but they don't have any money for lunch - not recognizing eactly what Bauman talks about both in chapters 2 and 4 when he quotes Belk quoting Shresta in that in order to avoid "social humiliation" they spend their money on "senseless consumer objects". It is so true. And to pay for that - they get after-school jobs that suck the life out of them so they have nothing to bring to school. It's not a place that will help them succeed in life, but rather something they have to get through. Yet our well-off students - most of which are in Honors classes - still have iPods, cell phones and computers, yet they do not have to have a job as long as they keep up their grades.

I have had bright kids who have had to leave the Honors track because they simply could not keep up with the workload AND go to work AND hand-write everything because they don't have computers. Yet we deem them the underclass. When we have optional assemblies at the end of the day, 70% of our students leave. When I first came to CRHS, I asked the principal if we are okay with this. He looked at me like I had grown another head and simply told me that these were the kids that really cared about school. 30% - accepting that numbe is a value-laden choice, not a description.

I just want to end with the fact that this book made me uncomfortable. I've observed much of this in school when I note the demographics of my regular and support classes versus my Honors classes, but I never thought of their marginalization in terms of "poor consumers". When Bauman talks about this on page 67 and states that people marginalize the poor because they do not add to the economy, I actually wrote "really?" off to the side. I've always thought that people have such a sense of entitlement, they don't want to have to pay for someone else. They say things like "my money" or "I pay enough in taxes" so I always thought of it as they feel justified in turning their backs on others. So the idea of "poor consumer" is swirling around in my head. I'm not discarding it - which tells me I do see truth in the statement - I just can't get my head around why it bothers me. Maybe because it is too simple. I don't know - I look forward to hearing what everyone has to say about this. Okay it is 10:57. I got send this baby on.