So we’ve been trying very hard to pick our battles with Audrey’s teacher – sending notes in when we see her continue to grade things that are not a product of instruction, etc. We see it as holding our own and trying very hard to not let Audrey know how much we despise what this woman is doing. In spite of this, every once and a while I get yet another reminder that it’s not enough.
Today one of Audrey’s friends came over for a play date. I told the mom that we’d do homework here before they played. I sat down with this child to listen to her read. I pulled out a chapter book from her reading folder and listened as she struggled with every other word. This was a book designed to elicit laughter from children – Horrible Harry and the Drop of Doom. Fittingly, it was a book of doom for any child who could not read it. She struggled over words like “epitaph.” Since she couldn’t read it and didn’t know what it meant, the riddles that followed that were designed to be funny were just words on the page to read. That’s all the assignment was – words on page after page to endure. She didn’t understand the story. She couldn’t say anything about it. Sadly, this was the fifth chapter in this book – the fifth night this poor child has brought home a book and endured word after word understanding little or nothing of its content. A book that was written to draw children into the world of reading – when in the hands of this teacher – will surely reinforce for this child why she doesn’t like reading and why she isn’t good at it. When I picked up the reading envelop to return the book, I noticed that the mother had written on the signature page that her daughter was struggling with this book. She wrote it on the first night the book was assigned. The teacher responded that she may change the girl’s group, but she never did. No doubt she was too busy planning all the chaotic contests and special treats for the class – too busy to teach and too busy to ensure that this child’s very real needs are served.
So now we have to decide whether we continue to hold our own or if we bring this to the attention of the central office. I only wish I knew the full scale of the experiences of the children in the class. I see Audrey doing well for the most part -but not being challenged – reading books that are far too easy and boring. She’s enjoying the little contests and games, but she seems to have lost her genuine enjoyment of learning that has always been such a critical part of who she is. We’ve been very fortunate that both Audrey and Niamh have been able to participate in a reading program at the university so they still enjoy reading, but if left up to her experiences in this classroom, I’d imagine that she’d not want to read anymore either. Now I see a glimpse of a struggling child, and I am even more disturbed than before.
Enduring has been a necessary survival skill up to this point, but in good conscience I wonder if we’re equally to blame for these kinds of travesties because of our silence. Like Freire warns, seeing injustice and doing nothing about it – particularly as an educator - is immoral.
