It’s weird to think that it’s all over!  I woke up two days ago thinking, “I have to get to TurningPoint!”  Ahh, but alas, it was just habit of routine speaking.  It feels good to be over, and yet it’s been just a over a week now and I still think about SpeakOut and the girls at TP! 

It was last Thursday, after our final reading and I went down to Starbucks, the one off Horsetooth and College (it’s my favorite).  Anyways, I sat there as we used to do (that is Melissa, Leigh and I), and I thought about writing and the effects of writing on a person’s life.  I thought about the different ways we tried to incorporate writing into those girls’ lives.  I thought about the reading, was it a success?  I thought about the relationships…were there any built?  Then I thought about what inspires me to write…Jesus Christ, and I picked up my cup of coffee and began to write all over it.  Yes, scribbling over the green letters imprinted from an impersonal machine at some corporate headquarters were the very deep and personal words of my heart crying out to the One I love so dearly.  And who will ever read this cup?  I thought… “Ah, but no one” my heart replied.  Is it of lesser worth than the words that were originally imprinted on it by the manufacturers?  No doubt the thin green words would be read by thousands more than my words, which I sloppily scribbled onto the cup with my black pen.  Yet, what makes writing of great worth?

I can still remember the “I Believe” poem.  I could just read some of those lines over and over again.  Some of the girls’ beliefs hit me so deeply.  Yet I can remember a few of the girls throwing out careless phrases that seemed to me as nothing but a space-filler.  But I am wrong for thinking that!  Yes, I am wrong!  It’s their words and no matter how deep or frivolous they are, they are of value. 

I feel alive when I finish writing the expression of my heart.  Maybe these girls don’t even realize just how much their words can and have made a difference in the lives of others.  Maybe they’ll never write again.  But then again, maybe their writing, and more importantly their lives, will be etched in the hearts of others!  That is my hope for this project, I think it always was! 

I think that overall we had great success for our final week at TurningPoint.  Tobi was able to come and do a couple of prompts with the girls and the girls really responded to them.  We did a story about their most influencial person and had them switch papers and ask each other questions about that person based on left out information.  The girls did a lot of writing this week and I was very proud of them!

The thing that most sticks out in my mind about this week was that I was able to talk to a couple of the girls one-on-one about their stories.  I read what they wrote and then gave them feedback on it.  It was really good to be able to give them personal attention and I think that because I was able to do that, they were more willing to work on finetuning their papers.  I'd give them suggestions and probe them a little bit in order to get them to go deeper with their descriptions, and they responded eagerly.  Because we were talking about their most influencial person, not only was I giving attention to their writing, but I was giving an obviously important part of their lives attention as well.

If my research has emphasized anything, it's emphasized the importance of having personal relationships with the students and not neglecting one-on-one time.  It seems that if we're ever going to make literacy successful in the upcoming generations, we're going to have to be willing to get on a more personal level.  Give them personal attention.  They definitely want their writing to be heard, but more than that, I think they want to know that someone cares enough about their writing and their stories to dig into it deeper!

Replies to this Entry:

Re: Week 6

Leigh Pogue, Lena1799@aol.com
Reply Created: August 4, 2005

This was one of our most successful assignments, and so I thought it was worthy to post it for all eyes to see...It's a beautiful compilation of phrases that the girls came up with from the prompts "I believe".  I hope you all enjoy as much as I do!

"I BELIEVE"

I believe that I can be happy,

I believe that I don’t always have to be lonely, sad and crappy

I believe he loves me

I believe in loving music so much that it makes me feel high

I believe that the milkman and the trash man are spies from the FBI

I believe the stars will shine

 I believe that women have power

I believe that a cross, a crown & a perfect love saved my life

                             I believe in the peace that fills my life

              I BELIEVE THAT I’M ALIVE

I believe in individuality and self-expression

I believe the heart will love

I believe that people are crazy in the membrane

I believe I’ve done this to myself

I believe in me so much it makes me want to cry,

That won’t stop until the day I die

I believe in freedom

I believe my chance is slim

I believe in myself

I felt like I was floating on a cloud when I left that house this week!

It was as though all my frustrations that I’ve had with the project were subsided and relieved in this single hour and a half. 

All I can say to you- this ambiguous, mysterious, and indefinite thing we call a blog, is this- my hope was renewed, my vision refocused, and my heart refreshed when I left that which has so many times seemed like a cage.  But this week I felt free when I left.  I felt restored and impassioned.  I saw a beauty that I had not yet seen in these girls and I saw it through their writing. 

These women consistently surprise me and in many ways amaze me!  Last week they didn’t want to write at all, this week they were eager to write and share their writing with the group.  But what amazes me even more than their eagerness to share with the group is their desire to listen to everyone else.  They were engaged in what everyone wrote about and commented on almost everyone’s writing. 

As I’ve been thinking about this last week and how incredible it was I think I can leave with a few ideas and even tips to those who follow us.  The large group worked better than the small group, and actually that’s been my observation throughout the five weeks that we’ve been working with these girls.  I think they’re more focused and less likely to get caught up in gossip and useless talking.  The power of peers is at work and as they see one of their peers writing, they engage themselves in writing as well.  Another thing that really opened the girls up was giving them the opportunity to play different characters and act out those characters.  It felt like by us getting silly before getting serious, we were able to break a wall, or a barrier.  The final thing that seemed really effective was the one line poem.  We gave them an “I Believe” statement and they had to say what they believed in.  They loved this exercise!  They wanted to read all the pieces aloud three times.  Finally we had to cut it off because it was getting so long.  The combination of these three things kept the girls busy, kept them moving and somehow led them to write, and it was effective!

I want to conclude by just saying that I think projects like this can be really trying.  I am an idealist and I pictured these girls being as excited about writing as I am.  When they weren’t I was frustrated and felt really discouraged.  But what I learned this week is that it might take time to get them to write.  It definitely takes the facilitator being open to trying different things.  But just because they’re not outwardly eager to write doesn’t mean they don’t want to.  Maybe they need to feel safe first.  Or maybe they need to see that it’s fun.  Perhaps they need to see a purpose to their writing.  Or maybe they just need to be given something to write about.   All of those things are our responsibility as the facilitator.  And perchance there be a person who just doesn’t want to write and never will, well, that’s our job to see that as well and reserve for them that right. 

This blog is going to be a lot of random thoughts about last week's project, primarily because I felt so disoriented by the end of it all, so I hope I don't lose anyone in it...

If my goal for this week was to hang out and get to know the girls in my group a little better I succeeded, but if it was to get them to write...well sadly it was a failure.  Although, I am trying not to think in terms of success and failure as far as this project is concerned.  I'm learning things that work and don't work.  For instance, I have a girl that hates to write, but I wouldn't say I'm failing her.  I hate science, I don't think you'll ever change my mind on that, and maybe that's how she is with writing.  That's hard for me to understand, how could anyone hate writing?  But she has a hard time with it and I don't want to write her off because of it. 

The saddest part of this project for me is to see girls unmotivated in life.  To hear them talk about their experiences with drugs and crime and to admit that they miss it and want to go back to it.  I don't know if writing can fix that?  I think that's what I wrestle with the most.  I don't feel like any amount of education or intellect can change that in them.  The girls might be hesitant to write because there is no trust...I can't say that I don't blame them for that.  I'm gone next week, why should they trust me?  But on the same hand, we can't expect them to want to open up and write without that trust!  I have a hard time sharing my writing with people I don't trust, it can't be that different for them!

I feel like TurningPoint reminds me of writing.  Sometimes you get caught up in the rules and forget the heart!  Without the heart rules only restrict your writing, but if you have freedom to express your heart the rules only act as guidelines to help you with that!

Perhaps what these girls need is more time.  More committment to thier well-being from us as facilitators.  They need to see that we are there for them and this project is for them.  They need direction, motivation, something to take pride in, this reminds me of something else...

I sat down and gave them the magazines to collage with and they did more reading than collaging.  One of the girls just kind of threw a couple words down and called it a day.  Then I told them that this project was going to be hung in our college library...she immediately changed her attitude and said, "oh people are going to see this?  I better make it better than."  If we don't give kids something to work for that they can be proud of, then we fail and breed apathy.  We must give their writing purpose-that's our job, not theirs!  We must give them a tangible outcome to show them the values of writing.  In that respect I don't know if I have succeeded with doing so!

In conclusion, the collage didn't work for my group.  My group needs more focus, more direction.  I ask a specific question and they give a specific answer.  They need clear and precise direction...that's my job, not theirs!

The streets seemed cold, abandoned, forgotten.  46th runs directly underneath I25, a major interstate, but 46th was anything but major.  However, somewhere between the streets filled up with trash and what seemed to be a number of abandoned buildings there was one building that was not so forgotten.  Perhaps it was not forgotten because its purpose is to not forget all of those who call these streets home!  Yet this was not even close to home to me.  I felt like I was in another world, a world that I could not blend into, at least not without some serious effort.  And I was there for what?  To try to learn how to help these people?  How can I do that when I am crawling in my skin?  I've been all over the world and never felt like such a foreigner as I did walking into the Denver Rescue Mission base. 

I am white, it's not that difficult to figure out.  I have blonde hair, hazel eyes and fair skin.  I dress up almost daily for my job, and I try to speak with out using slang (although I catch myself slipping often).  I began to wonder how someone like me can help people like them?  We are different.  Not one is better or worse, but just different. 

Different is a good way to describe how I felt.  Different when I drove down the streets.  Different when I walked into the gas station to ask for directions.  Different when I got out of my car.  And different when I left.

It made me think about all the children of different races and what they must experience when they walk into an all white, English speaking classroom...DIFFERENT!  I was there to ask questions, I can't imagine learning in that kind of environment.  I cannot fathom what it would be like to be so uncomfortable and be asked to read aloud, or learn the alphabet or analyze Shakespeare!  I wanted to hide behind my own shadow while I was asking for directions, what would I have done if I was asked to know science (an already difficult subject for me as an English speaking student), in a language I was still unfamiliar with and a culture that overpowered me. 

I am thankful for my experience at the DRM because more than anything I was able to get a small taste of what underpriveleged students must feel like everyday they walk into an affluent classroom with students who are comfortable in their skin, while they are not able to be as comfortable in theirs.

This week was by far the most difficult of the three.  However, I was also most able to see how culture affects literacy.  We read an excerpt out of Sandra Cisnero’s “The House on Mango Street”.  The Latina girls respond so well to her writing.  They get excited to read from another Latina’s life.  In fact one of the girls jumped up and said, “This is about a Mexican”.  From that one excerpt the girls were able to get into a lot of discussion about racism and prejudice.  They loved being able to share their own experiences with race.  The moment we began talking about race they became animated and full of expression.  They had a lot to say about race, especially how they’ve been affected by it. 

I brought up a line from one of the poems that we read.  In this particular poem the girl is trying to fight against race but ends up making a comment about Europeans being racist that makes her very hypocritical.  They were able to see and discuss how racism can be subtle even in the ways that whites are viewed.  I think that before this class they didn’t view white people as a race and therefore didn’t think that they could be victims of racism.  However, after we discussed it we all agreed that there is a lot of reverse racism in our country and that by trying to “make it better” we could be making it worse.  What I saw in this group of women and through some of the reading I’ve done is that by trying to make race a non-issue we’ve become indulged in even more bigotry than we realize.  I feel like we need to make race an issue, especially when it comes to teaching English and literature!  Yet how?  How do we it in a productive way.  It’s something that needs to be addressed because we’re losing a lot of minority students in literacy.  Perhaps having them read literature from their own culture would help win this battle?  I need to explore it more.

I asked them their favorite poets and to my surprise they responded with people like…Shakespeare, Eliot, and Edgar Allen Poe.  Then I asked them their favorite modern day poet…silence.  Not one could think of a modern day poet.  So I played them a song by a rap artist.  “Is this poetry?”  I asked.  They each agreed that it was.  It was interesting to me that they didn’t originally view songs as poetry.  But they responded really well to it.  We read different lyrics and then looked at different types of poems and they were captivated by a lot of them. 

We talked about how a poem is so effective because it speaks to something inside of us that we can relate to.  Then I had one of the Mexican girls read a song that was written in Spanish.  She could barely read it.  In fact, she openly admitted that she had forgotten a lot of her Spanish.  She read in English better than Spanish.  One of the other Mexican girls also wanted to read.  I asked her if she wanted to read in Spanish or English, and she said English. 

I’m not really sure how to respond to this.  I was hoping to show the women that a poem can speak to the heart and stir emotion and passion in other people.  A song that’s in another language might not speak as well to us if we don’t understand it.  But, then again, if it’s read with the same passion that the author wrote it with, it could cross language barriers.  However, I feel like that analogy didn’t really get across to the ladies.  And I was more in awe of the fact that these women who are proud of their Mexican heritage, have let it go so quickly. 

In the book that I’m reading, “Making Race Visible”, it talks about not being color-blind.  I love it because the authors do a great job of showing how effective our multi-cultural classrooms could be if we would stop pretending that mixed-cultures don’t exist in the classroom.  And I tend to agree.  I think there must be a balance in giving students American literature and their own culture’s literature.  I’m not sure where that balance is, but I feel that we’ve lost the richness of our country by trying to erase the colors of different ethnicities!  Why couldn’t we embrace Latino literature in the classrooms?  Or Middle-Eastern history?  Why not let a Mexican write a story in Spanish?  Yes, students need to know English.  Yes, they need to be able to discern an American classic.  But maybe first they need to just enjoy reading and writing.  Maybe the best way to break cultural barriers is by recognizing that culture exists in the classroom!

Did American schools teach these Mexican girls that it’s not ok to be Mexican?  I don’t know.  But it seems like that happens all too often.  We don’t make it clear that by asking them to embrace America, we’re in no way asking them to let go of their country.  In fact, American schools need to embrace other cultures as well.  This doesn’t mean that we leave traditional texts and lessons behind.  But maybe make room for other cultures.  It can be done.  I’m not sure how, but I know it can be. 

How do I even begin to describe this week’s workshop?

Remember everyone…if you give em’ an inch they’ll take a yard!

So, that’s precisely what I decide to do.  I give them some freedom; I want them to express themselves when they write.  I want them to be open and honest, after all, no one wants to read someone’s half-expressed thoughts.  Of course I didn’t realize that one of the girls would write a poem about another girl in the room titled, “@it*hes”.  So that raised in me the question of censorship.  Do we censor these workshops?  Do we allow them to express their feelings about drugs, sex and other girls that drive them crazy?  Or do we ask for them to filter their writing?

I remember in school I once drew a less-than artistic drawing of the most beloved piece of my heart- my faith in Jesus.  My teacher was quick to remind me that I couldn’t it hang it in the hall with the rest of the pictures, but it wouldn’t affect my grade.  I remember being so frustrated.  “Give me an F, I don’t care, I just want to be heard like all the rest of my peers!”  It was censorship and it hurt.

But then I think, there’s a time and a place for censorship.  For instance, does Eminem really need to rap about rape and murder and obscenities?  Maybe it helps people relate.  Then again, maybe it justifies people’s anger. 

Melissa and I talked about this after class.  And she had brought up this issue with her group.  She said it went really well, so I think I’m going to do that this next week, I’ll give you the report.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that the first day of anything can be intimidating.  It’s hard to face the unknown.  Walking into an obscure situation can often times leave you feeling discouraged or disappointed.  When I walked into Turning Point girl’s home, I was excited.  I don’t think I even allowed myself to feel intimidated until I saw the girls, and then I realized that they weren’t girls at all-they’re women.  Women who are trying to find themselves just like me.  Women who are passionate about something just as I am.  Women who often times appear to be girls simply because they’re trying to find out just who they are and how to express that in a less than idealistic world.  When the world sees them as a girl what the world is really seeing is them experimenting with their womanhood.  Perhaps that’s when I became slightly intimidated. 

This past year I was able to teach first graders.  I loved it!  They loved me and respected me simply because I was twice their size.  Maybe I thought it would be like that…I’m not really sure what I thought exactly.  However, what I know is that it wasn’t like that at all.  I couldn’t just walk into this room of women and tell them that reading and writing is cool.  I couldn’t just give them a charismatic speech about how the world needs to hear their voices.  You can do that with girls, because they look up to you (literally).  Ah, but women are much harder to crack.  They need to be convinced.  They need proof.  They need to struggle with an idea until they are able to shape it and fit it into their hearts.  This is not the sign of girlishness, it’s the sign of womanhood!

Three women in particular really stood out to me during our first session.  I want to name them something, a code name, because I think they will be the topic of many of my entries.  However, I cannot think of what would properly suit them right now, so I will wait.  These three women had strong voices already.  Voices that they made sure were heard.  Their voices often dominated the conversations.  They always wanted to share their thoughts.  They always had an opinion and they always let their opinion be heard.  And from these women I saw the heart of SPEAK OUT.  They really were like me.  They had something to say and they wanted to be heard.  Sometimes what they said wasn’t always eloquent.  They didn’t always know how to articulate their ideas.  But they craved to be heard. 

One of the girls was Mexican and when reading the story about her culture, she wanted to let everyone know that she could not only sympathize with the girl in the story, but she could empathize with her.  She knew what that life was like, because she is from that life.  Yet the other girls, although not a part of the Latino culture had plenty to say on the issue as well.  They saw things differently but still wanted to be heard.

Furthermore, what I learned from all of the women, was that they had valuable information to share.  They picked up on the metaphorical use of the name in Cisnero’s book The House on Mango Street.  They understood voice and the importance of it.  They knew how to describe their name by using similar metaphors that Cisneros used.  One girl’s name was the number one because it was lonely.  Another girl’s name sounded like a sword being drawn from its’ sheath.  Black was the color of another girls’ name because it’s bold and strong.  I was moved by just how much these girls could see in their names.  And I thought it very possible that I gave them far too little credit when I walked into that first session. 

I mentioned earlier in this entry that walking into an obscure situation can leave a person feeling disappointed.  This was not the case for me however.  I felt refreshed!  Renewed!  Alive!  It was as though my mind was racing a million miles a minute and still couldn’t keep up with my heart.  Because amidst all of their incredible insight I noticed something else from these women-they’re role models are just like mine.  They’re moms, dads, friends, loved ones.  People who see them not for the mistakes they’ve made but for who they really are and who they are striving to become.  And that’s what inspired me the most.  I have lived in a different world than they have.  And yet I share such commonalities with them.  We see life differently but our hearts cry out at injustice.  We may have different voices, but we long to be heard.  And I think I understand…we have to so much to learn from each other. 

In conclusion, let me just say that this project is consuming my life.  I think about these women constantly.  And I dream of the endless possibilities that SPEAK OUT could have on their lives, on our lives, and on the lives of the community! 

Replies to this Entry:

Any thoughts on culture and literacy?

Tobi Jacobi, tjacobi@colostate.edu
Reply Created: June 28, 2005

"I gave them far too little credit"

Leigh Pogue, Lena1799@aol.com
Reply Created: July 3, 2005

Re: Day 1

Camryn Strickler, camrynstrickler@yahoo.com
Reply Created: July 6, 2005

I remember watching a movie several months ago called Luther.  The movie is a biography of Martin Luther's life.  Martin Luther was a key player in the reformation of the Catholic Church.  I love studying the history of the Christian church, primarily the influences during the reformation period.  What struck me however in this movie more than anything was not Luther's life, but the bondage the church was under due to the power that Rome was able to exercise over the people.  Rome had adopted Catholicism and turned it into a profitable business through manipulation and deceit.  And the primary way that they were able to facilitate this business was by keeping the commoners in their ignorance.  As long as a man or woman could not read the Bible they would not know that money couldn’t buy their favor with God.  I was enraged that illiteracy kept thousands of people in fear and bondage to a system of rules when the very faith they were trying to obtain could care very little about a system of rules.  At the end of the movie it showed Luther doing the unthinkable…he translated the Bible into the common people’s language.  This simple and yet at the time, dangerous duty, set thousands of people free to serve not a country but Christ. 

I thought long and hard about what it would be like to be kept in such ignorance that you’re at the mercy of fallible man.  And then I thought about the blacks and how they too suffered the injustice of serving a corrupt system that provided them a voice only if they could read and write.  Slave owners kept their slaves in ignorance because they knew that knowledge could liberate the slaves.  I think in many ways America still operates in a system of hierarchy.  A system where the rich and learned are powerful, and the poverty-stricken Chicano boy living in the Bronx will never be heard.  He will struggle to survive and possibly come to know more about life than a politician, but because he cares very little about Shakespeare or Twain he will perpetuate the cycle of poverty and illiteracy in his life.   

Literacy gives people a voice, a chance to be heard.  It gives us power to change our community, our nation, and even our world.  Education and facts in themselves are not necessarily where the power lies.  However, learning how to express oneself in a way that compels others to action, that is power.  Luther was literate, and therefore he could read the Bible for himself and see the fallacies of the Roman government.  Because of this he will be remembered in history as someone who greatly impacted the Christian faith.  The blacks, such as Martin Luther King Jr., made sure that they were educated, Martin Luther King’s speeches and letters are greatly hailed among higher education scholars. 

I am doing this project because I want to learn how to bridge the literacy gap among culturally diverse students.  Students who live in poverty, who are homeless, kids who might never be heard but have such great things to contribute to our society!  I want to learn how to teach minority students in a way that will compel them to let their voices be heard and never become the victims of injustice!

Replies to this Entry:

Does Shakespeare = Literacy?

Tobi Jacobi, tjacobi@colostate.edu
Reply Created: June 27, 2005