Culture

All day Saturday, before my first true week of teaching seventh graders, I worked hard attempting to uncover a bit of creativity in order to teach my students the Parts of Speech. Soon, I unearthed a song from Conjunction Junction. A bit primitive, one might think; however, School House Rock is not just an 80s concept. It is still alive and kicking today.

In any event, I located a nice little rap that chants "if you yearn to learn, then we're here to teach...a little something known as the parts of speech..." Something to that effect--a little paraphrasing never hurts, especially since I am no connoisseur of rap music. Tuesday came, and I worked effortlessly connecting the necessary technology to play the aforementioned song. Unfortunately, it was not a success. In fact, all five of my classes simply stared at me, jaws on their desks, as I stood there in some feeble attempt to wake the dead with my own rendition of "Rhyme and Reason." Needless to say, the kids were not impressed, and, in fact, their silence was proof that I had failed.

It has been exactly one week, and today I had a substitute. I was not ill, but rather had to attend a workshop regarding a new computer program that is supposed to help with writing skills. As all good teachers do, I left a worksheet so my sub wouldn't have to lecture, and, just in case the students completed their work, I left a photograph. Now, we all know that pre-teens should have no time to idle. Therefore, I decided to blow up a picture to use as a writing prompt.

As many of you may know, today marks the 400th anniversary of Galileo's telescope. I figured I had nothing to lose; after all, I wouldn't be in the class when my students' infamous silence sent chills up the substitute's spine. As suspected, they finished their worksheets early and were asked to write a paragraph describing what they thought was occurring in the photograph. Yes, they had to use creative thinking and write about something very few of them were familiar.

Lo and behold, each time I walked past my classroom, there was silence. Their heads were bowed, and their pencils were scurrying across their paper. They were writing.

I realized, as I flipped through some of their work this evening, that I had made the ultimate mistake as a teacher. I had stereotyped. The majority of my students are latino/a, and I had just automatically assumed I could reach them with music that "fit their culture." I was wrong. Although they didn't know who Galileo was, his telescope saw something much deeper than my simple human eye.