Sponsors of Literacy

Deborah Brandt introduces the concept of sponsors of literacy in her 1998 essay "Sponsors of Literacy."  When thinking about sponsors of literacy, it is easier to understand the concept if you put it into a non-literary context.  When a Coca Cola provides sponsorship for a television show, Coke is the company paying money which allows the show to remain on the air.  This is not a one-way relationship, however.  Coke isn't paying all this money just for the benefit of the TV producers and television audience; Coca Cola gets something out of it too.  Coke provides sponsorship to work as advertising for their company, and then people get to watch TV.

Literary sponsorship works in the same way.  There are many societal things that sponsor literacy, some of them being work places or religious institutions.  Brandt uses many examples of literary sponsorship in her essay, including the church for African American slaves and a union job for a factory worker.  When slaves were taught how to read by the church, it was not just for the sake of intelligence.  Church goers were receiving salvation for spreading the word of god, and in the mean time, slaves learned how to read.  A factory worker was sent to workshops to learn how to be a union leader, and in the mean time, became a better reader, writer, and negotiator.  

This is the first time I have thought about the reciprocal relationship of literacy.  Before, I thought of literacy as a one-way street.  Someone teaches a student how to read, and the student benefits.  With this new idea of sponsors of literacy, I can see that the student is not the only person benefiting from literacy acquisition.  Perhaps the church did not have the best intentions and motivations when teaching slaves how to read, but the benefits for slaves far outweighed the not-so-great intentions. 

How to Tame a Wild Tongue

"Until I am free to write bilingually and to switch codes without having to always translate, while I still have to speak English or Spanish when I would rather speak Spanglish, and as long as I have to accommodate the English speaker rather than having them accommodate me, my tongue will be illegitimate" (41).

At the beginning of "How to Take a Wild Tongue," Gloria Anzuldula recounts the numerous times her teachers or parents chastised her for speaking Spanish.  In the words of her teacher, who punished Anzuldula for speaking Spanish at recess, "If you want to be American, speak 'American'" (36).  Being a future teacher and a "culturally sensitive" citizen, I couldn't help but be appalled at the attitudes displayed by her mother and teacher.  Cultural identity is important!  Each person is unique.  How could Anzuldula ever possess self-confidence or self-respect if she is not even allowed to respect her own language?

Then I continued reading the rest of the essay.  It was challenging and I was frustrated.  I don't speak a lick of Spanish, and large sections of the essay are written in Spanish, a language I cannot understand.  Some of the text is translated, but much of it is not.  At first I used my trusty Google Translator, but it became so tedious that I ended up sounding out the words and using context clues, which didn't help much.  I was utterly lost, and thought to myself "Why can't she just write in English!"

Anzuldula must have picked up that self-respect and self-confidence despite her parents and teachers, since she is clearly comfortable speaking her own blend of English and Spanish.  She wrote that "... as long as I have to accommodate the English speaker rather than having them accommodate me, my tongue will be illegitimate" (41).  After reading that section of the essay, I realized that I was acting just like her teacher from earlier in the essay.  Anzuldula does have a legitimate language, and she should not have to accommodate me.   

Superficial Tests of Discourse Fluency

"Literacy, Discourse, and Linguistics: Introduction" and "What is Literacy," both written by linguist James Paul Gee, define and explain the presence of different Discourses in language.  A Discourse is specific way to talk and act, or as Gee puts it, is an "..."identity kit" which comes complete with the appropriate costume and instructions on how to act and talk so as to take on a particular role that others will recognize" (537).  Throughout his essays, Gee emphasizes that Discourses cannot be overtly taught, they must be acquired.  He also insists that unlike in languages, where a person might know a language but is not fluent, a person either is fluent in a Discourse or is not.  There is no in-between, no "functionally literate."

Gee explains that fluency in a Discourse of power serves as a gateway for non-mainstream people.  However, "gateway" is not synonymous with "open door."  A gate can be opened or closed.  It can be a barrier or an open door.  Unless someone is fluent in a Discourse, they will not have access to the opportunities available.  Gee talks about how people often judge fluency in a Discourse with superficial features, which are often the petty, and in the grand scheme of things, unimportant grammatical details of a Discourse. "...Superficial features are the best test as to whether one was apprenticed in the "right" place, at the "right" time, with the "right" people.  Such superficial features are exactly the parts of the Discourses most impervious to overt instruction and are only fully mastered when everything else in the Discourse is mastered" (531).   Superficial features are the test to see if someone belongs, and mastery of them can be the difference between having a gate unlocked or slammed shut.

I find myself often judging people on their use of grammar and even sentence structure when determining "how smart" they are.  Are "your" and "you're" used correctly?  What about "its" and "it's?"  At work, when reviewing resumes, I look at run-on sentences, incorrect comma use, and spelling errors as red flags.  It doesn't matter that I know what is trying to be said, or even if I see a qualified potential employee.  I only see mistakes, the signs of an outsider.  I think this contributes to why some lower-class people may encounter difficulty finding a job or climbing the socioeconomic ladder.  As Gee said, a Discourse cannot be taught, it must be acquired.  If a person is raised in a setting where the dominant Discourses, those Discourses of power, are not used, then it will be difficult to become encultured in them and master them.  The test of superficial features reveal that a person is trying to fake it, so the gate remains shut.  Then, without access to that Discourse, it will never be mastered.  This vicious circle can explain why climbing the socioeconomic ladder is so difficult.

Banking Concept of Education

In his essay, "The Banking Concept of Education," Paolo Freire explains that far too often, education is a static process of teachers "filling" students with information.  He calls this the "banking" concept of education, where a teacher "makes deposits which students patiently receive, memorize, and repeat" (75).  In this type of classroom, students only receive, file, and store deposits from the teacher.  There is no discussion, exploration, or curiosity, since students take on the role of receptacles waiting to be filled.  I have acted as a knowledge-receptacle for much of my life, as many of my teachers have employed the banking concept of education.

I have taken two comparable History classes at UWM, and the teachers who led the discussions contrasted greatly in their teaching styles.  Ben was comfortable playing the role of the typical "teacher."  He was confident, commanding, and knew how to speak to a classroom.  However, attending his classes felt like a waste of my time.  He regurgitated information from the book and what the professor said in lecture.  Ben stood at the front of the class and talked at the students, who sat in desks, in rows, facing only him.  The class should not have been classified as a "discussion"; there was no dialogue between students.  Ben used the banking concept of education, and he expected the students to act as receptacles for his "deposits" of knowledge.  Bill taught my other History discussion, which was very different.  He had less confidence than Ben, was quiet, and did not seem quite comfortable in his "teacher" role.  However, his role in discussion was much more valuable.  We all sat around a conference table so we could actually have a conversation.  Before class we were expected to read primary sources related to the lecture.  In the discussion, Bill asked questions and encouraged us to think abut the biases and motivations of the authors, the context, and the events leading up to and resulting from the articles.  Bill did not dominate the conversation, but allowed the students to engage with each other and the material.  I was not just memorizing history, I was uncovering why it happened.

Engaged Pedagogy

"That learning process comes easiest to those of us who teach who also believe that there is an aspect of our vocation that is sacred; who believe that our work is not merely to share information but to share in the intellectual and spiritual growth of our students" (bell hooks, "Engaged Pedagogy," p. 67). 

Although I have never articulated it as well as bell hooks, one of the reasons I am becoming a teacher is so I can help my students grow as people and individuals.  hooks calls this sharing in the "intellectual and spiritual growth of our students."  School is not just for learning how to do math; it is not only for learning how to to spell words, write essays, or memorize historical facts.  Yes, math and spelling and essays and historical facts are important, but they must not be the only goal of education.  Those things are just the tools students acquire on their path to becoming healthy, well-rounded, curious adults who can use their knowledge to grow as individuals. 

I can relate this quote to my summers as a camp counselor working with eight to fourteen-year-old girls.  I taught girls a lot of skills while I was their counselor at summer camp.  They learned how to light fires, how to canoe and kayak, and how to set up a tent and cook a meal in the dark.  Although I wholeheartedly believe these are valuable skills to possess, I was most interested in helping the girls grow on a different level.  Yes, the girls learned how to light fires, but most importantly, they learned that they could light a fire, they were capable of setting up a tent by themselves, and they were tough enough to keep on canoeing through the wind even though they were tired.  These girls were used to being coddled.  Many of their parents treated them like fragile little girls.  I taught them to be strong, capable individuals who could take care of themselves.

Teachers in the classroom can do this too.  When I become a teacher, I want to challenge my students to think for themselves, make connections to their home life, and help them make important decisions about their futures.  I believe in what hooks said, that "there is an aspect of our vocation that is sacred."  Yes, teaching is about intellectual growth, but I can make it about all-around growth as well.

The Achievement of Desire: Scholarship Boy

In his essay "The Achievement of Desire," Richard Rodriguez uses the term "scholarship boy."  This term first appears on page 431.  Rodgriguez sums up his meaning of scholarship boy in a sentence, saying he was "always successful" but "always unconfident."  He was "too eager, too anxious - an imitative and unoriginal student."

Rodriguez goes on to use the term "scholarship boy" for the rest of the essay.  Although it sounds like a good thing, he uses it to refer to himself and his school experience negatively.  Scholarship boys seem like good students, but actually are just imitators.  They mimic what the teachers say.  Instead of using school as a platform for future successes, scholarship boys only strive to be successful in school.  They want to please the teacher, perhaps even be the teacher.

Inventing the University: Fake it 'til you make it

David Bartholomae address exactly why academic writing can be so difficult for students.  We simply have not been taught how to do it.  He first explains that successful writers "can write from a position of privilege... They must be equal to or more powerful than those they would address" (515).  To be a good writer, you must act like an expert, talking to a group of experts.  In order to become an expert, you need to practice sounding like one.  In other words, you must "fake it 'til you make it."  Although students new to a field may not have the actual experience or knowledge, if they develop their writing skills, they will already have that strong authoritative voice when the knowledge part finally can back up their statements.  However, many students have never been taught how to exercise their academic voices.

Bartholomae illustrates where teachers go wrong and how they can help students develop a more mature writing style.  He uses the example of a writing assignment where a students are asked to "write about 'To His Coy Mistress,' not to for your teacher, but for the students in [their] class" (515).  This type of assignment, which requires the student to write for an outsider, does not reflect how the academic community works.  To better prepare students for writing academic discourse, where writing is addressed to an insider's circle, they should be required to write about "To His Coy Mistress" for a person who is already an expert on it.  With this type of practice, students will be better prepared for entering the academic conversation. 

Looking back, I can see how my writing teachers in high school molded me into a stronger writer by following Bartholomae's recommendation.  I was taught to write from a position of authority.  For example, here are two versions of an excerpt from a paper of mine in high school:  

The mistreatment of women, primarily Chaucer’s portrayal of women as mere afterthoughts of men, is evident in “The Clerk’s Tale.”  Chaucer deliberately undermines the essential worth of women, and in doing that, destroys the fundamental freedoms which come with humanity.

In earlier drafts, this statement began as

It seems as if Chaucer portrays women as mere afterthoughts of men in "The Clerk's Tale." It could be argued that the essential worth of women is undermined.  When women are disregarded, it threatens their place in the world as human beings, along with the fundamental freedoms which come with humanity.

Although the two excerpts have similar substance, the first one is much stronger.  In my original draft, I wrote "It could be argued that the essential worth of women is undermined."  It "could be" argued?  Why don't I argue it right now?  In my later draft, I changed this to a bold accusatory statement, claiming "Chaucer deliberately undermines the essential worth of women."  I was taught that I can and should take control of my writing like this; I'm an expert, aren't I?  Like Bartholomae says, by acting like an expert on this topic, I am qualified to write to an audience of inside experts.