At the end of class today, (re-directed somewhat by Zoe!) I asked each of you to write--in the mode that Andrew Goatley describes as an "environmentally friendly alternative to goal-directed grammar" --a description of "what was happening," just then, in the room. Here is what we wrote, and then read to one another (it gives me shivers!):

Talking takes place.
Contemplation and thinking are happening around.
The desks are in a circle.
Shining through the windows.
Silent thinking.
Thinking continues.
Air is moving and responding.
Writing and thinking are happening.
Thought happens. Written words voiced in speech.
Thinking in peace.
Pensively gaze, frown, then scribble.
Pens are rustling.
Mental contortion.
Beings pulsating in peacefulness.
A conversation is going on.

I now want to bring this (lovely, really lovely!) production of ours back into conversation with wanhong's provocative post about the difficulty of describing motion without matter. She reports that--although the discussion in her high school physics class was guided by the motto that "motion is eternal while stability is relative"--every time they studied motion, they diagrammed it using dots or squares to represent the object in motion.

Stepping off from that insight…how might we diagram this poem?
Are there objects (in motion) in it?
(Are they us, or our thoughts?)

(and what we will leave out!)

One thing that really stuck out for me in the Silva article was the mention of the scale of intelligence on which prisoners were placed to determine whether their IQs merited effort on the part of the prison system to educate them. These labels, ranging from "above average" to "imbecile", are not only offensive in the ability-minded conscience of today, but also in the idea that there is no hope for nearly half of all prisoners to ever learn something useful. These standardized tests, as we have discussed in class, are in no way a feasible method for extracting useful data about intelligence, and, so far as I know, there is no evidence that they would have been executed under fair conditions to prisoners. It seems that these scores and hurtful labels are an excuse for us to allow prisoners to fall between the cracks without education in incarceration facilities--if they were never bright enough to be educated anyway, we don't have to worry when our rudimentary attempts to educate them are unsuccessful, or don't land released prisoners a job (likely related to unwillingness to hire former prisoners no matter their level of "rehabilitation").

After reading the Jones & d'Errico and Silva articles, I've been feeling really conflicted lately about the question of who deserves to be educated. My initial response before reading any of these articles would've been an enthusiastic "EVERYBODY" but I thought Silva's mentioning of William Weld's suggestion of Boston University offering the free education program to the poor, law-abiding citizens rather than the inmates was mind-boggling, and yet kind of a good one. I can't seem to make up my mind! Do we have to pit the two groups up against each other? Are the two groups at the same level on the playing field? If I had to pick which group could receive the education, I don't think I'd have to think twice about giving it to the poor, law-abiding citizens. But that doesn't mean I agree with Weld's "lock them up and throw away the key" attitude. The fact that these two groups had something in common to struggle for was surprising, but I don't think it should have been.

I always knew there was some sort of educational access hierarchy that existed, but I could only think of that situation using groups of people categorized by socioeconomic status - I never once considered inmates as a group that needed to be considered in this discussion about rights to an education until now.

(and what we are leaving out!) in visiting our weekly "sit sites"...

I've been thinking a lot about our last class--how we tried to grapple with educational policy, realizing how difficult it is, and how frustrating it can be.  We all seem to be emotionally invested into the cause.  As students at a liberal arts college, we undoubtedly value education and what it can provide.

What I want to respond to now is the last comments made before we moved on to the next class.  It expressed the frustration of "not having enough time" to execute all the goals we set out for ourselves when trying to be good teachers and educational policy makes.  I make mention of this point because I think "the time crunch" that all educators feel is one of underlying problems, and one that we all had a hard time trying to grapple with as well.  

Perhaps then, the problem isn't necessarily that we don't "have or possess" enough time to get everything we want done in the day, but that we think that must accomplish everything by a certain date, or else we're doomed to failure.  A kid who does not pass meet the requirements of a third grader by the end of his school year must repeat the year all over again.  If the teacher does not prepare her students by this date, then they will fail the state exam.  In other words, maybe we're a little too concerned about the deadline than the inquiry of the kids themselves.