Take-Aways from Puebla

My Puebla institute ended on Friday night with mariachis and way too much food, but I am still tingling with the excitement of a week with such wonderful people and a refreshing combination of research and humanity.

Not-quite-complete group photo of institute participants.

Of the research we read and heard about in our program sessions, I want to share three main take-aways:

1) Classification of "struggling readers." This was an article that Kathy Escamilla published with Susan Hopewell. First of all, I love how the staff of the Literacy Squared program use the term "emerging bilingual" instead of "English language learner," thereby normalizing bilingualism/biliteracy as an end goal instead of English proficiency. The article critiques the method of comparing emerging bilingual students against their monolingual peers when identifying struggling readers. This faulty identification leads to huge numbers of emerging bilinguals to be classified as low-performing and targeted for English reading interventions that can waste money and unnecessarily worry parents.

2) Phonemic awareness instruction. Compared to English, Spanish has what is known as a "transparent orthography." This means that letters generally only produce one sound and vice versa, although there are some exceptions. In the US, we dedicate a lot of instructional time, especially in the early grades, to the explicit instruction of phonemic awareness, the ability to break words into small sound parts or phonemes. In Mexico, teachers spend more time on writing and reading comprehension and generally do not teach phonemic awareness. In dual language schools, however, there is a big push to have parallel structures in English and Spanish instruction, so Spanish teachers frequently end up teaching phonemic awareness. This article suggests that students will actually transfer their phonemic awareness abilities from English to Spanish, so Spanish teachers' time would be better spent working on other skills.

3) Writing. Dr. Sandra Butivilofsky led two session on biliterate writing trajectories in which got to analyze writing samples from a student in English and Spanish throughout her 5 years in elementary school. We saw how students - especially in early stages of writing development - tend implement the same strategies across languages. She shared new research about the effects of first language reading and writing skills on second language literacy. We also tried out a rubric for analyzing how students elements of one language were reflected in the other in students' writing at a word, sentence, and discourse level. It was by far my favorite session, but I'm still trying to process all the new information.

4th grade team - our group of program participants and local teachers

Counter Narratives Everywhere

Greetings from the Literacy Squared Institute in Puebla, Mexico!

In our opening session Dr. Kathy Escamilla (THE name in biliteracy) spoke about Literacy Squared´s vision of creating counter narratives in education:

ACHIEVEMENT GAP -> OPPORTUNITY GAP/GAP IN VISION

MONOLINGUAL NORM -> BILINGUALISM AS THE "NEW NORMAL"

FEAR OF LATINOS -> SOCIAL JUSTICE

CLOSING SCHOOLS & FIRING TEACHERS -> SUPPORTING TEACHERS

Since arriving here, I have reflected on further examples of counter narratives.

One session yesterday asked us to consider the story of La Malinche (the indigenous woman who, according to the conventional narrative, betrayed her people by becoming the interpreter and lover of Cortés) from the perspective of La Malinche. Was she a traitor? A victim? A survivor? How do the stories within our representations of history serve to oppress or benefit groups of people?
In this session we also watched Chimamanda Ngozi Adiche's powerful Ted Talk: "The Danger of a Single Story."

I have also observed counter narratives of dual language schools. It has been inspiring to rub elbows with important people in the world of dual language education - district superintendents, university professors, the executive director of WIDA, not to mention the researchers/presenters - but it has also been fascinating to hear the wide variety of contexts in which the participants teach and work. Most of my students in DC are second generation immigrants from Central America, and about a quarter of our students are non-Latino Black. This is a different experience from "one-way" dual language models that serve 100% Spanish-speaking populations. One of the participants teaches at a school on the border in New Mexico, where almost all the students LIVE in Mexico. (After hearing his story, I googled the town and found this Washington Post article about the school.)

Perhaps the most powerful counter narrative has been the group´s attitude toward the observation (the first of two) we did at a local school today. In my time in Chiapas, I consistently tried to approach observations from a positive standpoint, searching for effective strategies rather than deficiencies. It was hard - not just because of the challenges in Mexican schools, but also because I have become so accustomed to experiencing observations as tools to evaluate and identify deficiencies (areas for growth.) Additionally, most professional development I have taken part in has presented approaches to teaching in a black & white way. THIS way of teaching is good and THAT way is bad. OBVIOUSLY you would never want to do that. WHAT was that teacher THINKING?! In our observation today, I was part of a cohort quick to spot potential and positive practices. Willing to question norms about conventional practices. Appreciative of the work that Mexican teachers do in difficult circumstances. There is so much that we can learn from them.

My school is my second home, but my home is my first school.

Oh, these are the people in your neighborhood...

This week I said goodbye to San Cristóbal, and yesterday evening I boarded a bus for a 12-hour ride to Puebla, where I will be participating in the Literacy Squared Institute.

Here are a few of the people I will dearly miss:

Sinead, fellow Fulbrighter and incredibly loyal friend in times of anxiety.
Kenny, friend and alum of the Escuela de Lenguas.

Jchanub Palas (Prof. Francisco), my Tsotsil professor.
Once, after I read through my homework assignment, he said I could teach
Tsotsil at Harvard. Needless to say, I think he's great.

I am incredibly embarrassed that this is the only photograph I have of my amazing adviser, Marisa (center), and her eyes are closed! I will have to contract another photo. On the right is Olimpia,  another professor at the Escuela de lenguas, and on the left is Diane, a Pomona alum/former Claremont resident and teacher/Chiapas researcher.

Lupita, my favorite step instructor is here pictured standing on a stage to compensate for the foot difference in height.
More than my E. coli, salmonella, and typhoid fever,
this woman kept me from turning into one giant tamale during my time in Chiapas.

Alejandra and María Elena, librarians and also my "Alfabetización y cultura" professors 
standing in their wonderfully-maintained Institute for Indigenous Studies library

Most of the primary school staff of Pequeño Sol + my Tsotsil classmate. A fun group of teachers!

...The people that you meet when you´re walking down the street. They´re the people that you meet each day!

Your voice in print - A teacher workshop

My dream to bring staffs of two of my observations schools was foiled by what is turning into a month-long teacher strike. Fortunately, I was still able to run a day-long workshop with the staff of the private school, Pequeño Sol.

We spent the first half of the day looking at the national communication standards for primary grades. Teachers shared some of my confusion produced by the ambiguity of some of the standards.

Teachers read the standards and noted words or phrases that were unclear. One standard requires 6-8 year olds
to "Understand the importance of communicating efficiently when explaining their ideas and arguments and when
presenting information." What does it mean to communicate efficiently? What would be the criteria to determine
if someone has communicated efficiently? How can we know when a child understands the importance of
communicating efficiently?

Then, teachers discussed these ambiguities.In 4th-6th grade, students are supposed to be able to "Distinguish the style, register, and tone according to the context, the audience, and the needs." Do they know what register and tone are? Do teachers know what these terms mean? 

Most teachers were not familiar with the communication standards and appreciated the opportunity to look at them in-depth.
While in the US (at least at my school), we seem to spend a lot more time deconstructing standards for planning purposes, I doubt that many teachers are familiar with the speaking standards in the US either. 

After looking at the standards, teachers had a chance to envision (enlisten??) what those skills would look like with children in their own classes. They acted out scenarios and filled in a chart of expected language for each standard. We also talked about the many categories of oral language - spontaneous vs. prepared, group discussion vs. single presenter, speaking to make meaning vs speaking to inform.

After a food break, teachers started the work of looking at transcripts. A major difference between spoken and written word is that speech is fleeting. This chance to revisit classroom discourse proved enlightening (and entertaining) for many of the teachers. As a teacher, it is so easy to ignore or not even hear a thoughtful student comment. It is easy to make nonsensical statements, try to lead students to answers that are not clear, throw a lengthy series of questions at a group of students without providing time to respond. The purpose of this session was not to cast judgment on teachers. In fact, it wasn't about teachers at all. We were looking for strong examples of STUDENT language.

Example of third grader "efficiently communicating" an argument: 

Deberíamos cuidar nuestro planeta porque la basura hace que se quemen los bosques, la selva, y todo eso. Y no solo, pues nos afecta a nosotros sino también a los animales. (We should take care of our planet because trash makes fires in the forest, the jungle, and all of this. And, well, it doesn't only affect us, but also the animals.)

 

With over fifty pages of transcription, they weren't able to highlight every example of strong oral language, but they seemed to agree that it was a valuable process. I hope to be able to work through the process again.

A trip to the jungle and reflections on photography ethics

Last weekend Sinead and I took a trip to the Selva Lacandona. Instead of going with a tour group to the major ruins, we opted for a small (read: 200 people) town that I had heard about in the presentation by a nine-year-old at Pequeño Sol. Nahá.
It was definitely a different experience than a tour group.

While we were in Nahá, the government was working on the dirt road. An endless parade of big trucks carted in gravel along with clouds of dust and noise pollution.
Sinead and I worried about the deforestation and cultural implications that would arise if they ever decide to pave the road that leads to the town.

BUGS!

A familiar site. The cicadas were extremely loud!
Our guide said that some people roast and eat them.

Thousands of the biggest grasshoppers I've ever seen. These, our guide says, you cannot eat. 

An anthill of a serious size.

A Lacandon god in a ceremonial space. In building the highway, they almost passed right through this area. As it is, the road is only a few meters away, and our guide said some construction workers have come in and broken these figures. His father was a major figure in the Lacandon spiritual tradition, and he lived to be 120 years old. Now, our guide said, the young people have little interest in learning how to perform ceremonies.

The town of Metzabok (150 people) is about 15 miles from Nahá, but public transportation
is uncertain, so we paid one of the few people in town with a car to take us there for the afternoon.

Time for a swim!

Ceremonial cave. Can you spot the human skull?

Steep hike to a look-out point. Well worth it!

A few pictures I chose not to post include some of the guide who took us on our canoe tour in Metzabok and his son. Like most Lacandon men, they had long hair and long tunics. The pictures are nice. Charming. But they also make me a little uncomfortable. I took them either from behind or far away, and I didn´t ask permission. "They just happen to be in the picture," I say, but I know that I wanted them in the picture to add to the ambiance. Except that they are people, not ambiance.

In the highlands of Chiapas, many indigenous people vehemently (even violently, I´ve heard) protect their right not to be photographed. For them, photographs can steal their souls. I think the policy is a good reminder in general of the questionable ethics of photographing people. A toddler with lopsided pigtails and a too-big colorful tunic is adorable, and the many colors of the local indigenous clothing is certainly part of the beauty of the region. But if I were that child´s mother, I wouldn´t want a stranger taking her picture.

The kids at the schools where I visit are similarly adorable. At the start of the school day they line up with their uniforms neatly tucked in and reach up with tiny hands to give you a kiss on the cheek as a greeting. But in the US, there are strict rules about taking pictures of children in schools, especially for use on the internet. Why should US children have more protection from internet creepers than Mexican kids?

I have felt similar discomfort when recording for my inquiry project. At Pequeño Sol, parents and grandparents come to support their child for her/his "conferencia." I know that I should ask the family´s permission to record the presentation, but I feel nervous and uncomfortable. Maybe this says something, though. Ultimately, my belief is that you should always ask permission. And if you aren´t comfortable asking permission, maybe that says you shouldn´t be doing it in the first place.

***Note: If you are a person who does not have regular exposure to the cuteness of children, I suggest you visit a local second grade classroom. They may not be the creative bunch that I see every Wednesday at Pequeño Sol or the line of uniformed darlings waiting to kiss your cheek in the morning, but there is something fantastically charming about second graders. And I bet the teacher would love to have your help for the day!