Chapter 3:
Kozol admits that “all teaching is theatrical to some degree,” but what happens when this acting becomes the only way to instruct? To extend the metaphor, let’s discuss P.S. 65, a school in the Bronx that Kozol visited. The teachers and the students of this school are all actors preparing for an audition. An audition that will manifest itself in the form of a bubble test. Whether the teachers and students do well in this audition will define them and will determine whether they can go onto the play, or if they have to go home and become stage hands and janitors.
There is only one audition, one try, one shot. Oh no! So if this is it, we must use every moment we have rehearsing! Here is the script, sit down, let’s practice. Repeat after me, say your lines, say them again, memorize them. Don’t get one word wrong. What’s that? You want to improvise? I’m sorry, that is not allowed. Go sit in the back, (or go to the principal’s office but don’t be surprised if he isn’t there because he is rehearsing too).
Caught in this masquerade of actors and script, it is impossible to know what is truth and what is a façade. Perhaps students will become used to this “system of control on every form of intellectual activity,” but how will it profit them? Yes, if the school is lucky, the students will learn their lines and perform well in the audition. But then they must leave the theater… and enter the real world! [audience gasps].
Will they be prepared? Will drills and routine and monotony have taught social skills, and self confidence? Why, no no no! But employer, I don’t need to know how to get along with a group! I have memorized the script! Is that not good enough?!
Suddenly, the “acceptable containers” that knowledge has been stored in becomes musty in a world where containers are no good. Lines become forgotten, and the only skills remaining are ones that teach students to mask who they are. The abstract standards they fought to reach become obsolete as the play changes. Soon, there will be a generation of young adults all lining up to audition outside of a dilapidated children’s theater, because that is all they know.
Chapter 4:
I sat and ate lunch with nine kindergarteners last week at Lonsdale Elementary School. One by one I asked them what they wanted to be when they grew up. Two of three girls said “cheerleader,” while the last proclaimed, “a teacher!” (to which I was surprised and delighted). Five of the six boys said only “football player” and the last, (only slightly joking I assume), said “I want to work at McDonalds.” Of these nine, four were Hispanic and five were African American. Already, before they have even entered first grade, the majority of these kids have reduced their options to professional sports or minimum paying job. Why? Because that is what they see; that is what their siblings have done, that is what their parents have done… and no one has told them differently.
The fact that a school in Ohio is introducing students at such a young age to applying for managerial positions is a refreshing change to what these students are normally exposed to. Yes, Kozol complains that schools should offer more options, but I posit that simply using words like “manager” will seep into these children’s consciousness so they don’t always believe that they are meant to be at the bottom of the system.
The role of the school is again addressed; is this institution simply a breeding ground for “pint-sized human deficits” who will enter the workforce and hopefully not mess it up too much, or is it possible that schools can be more than the first step towards a job and adding to the economy?
Similar to chapter three where students are trained to be actors, chapter four addresses students being trained to be workers. The common theme between these two chapters is the training itself. In the end, it does not matter what you are conditioning a child to become. It is simply the fact that you are conditioning them, and that is wrong.
What can we compare this to… I suppose it could be like an apple which has learned its whole life how to become an apple pie. It’s not that there is anything wrong with pie, but the apple doesn’t realize that there are so many other things it could become—a partner with peanut butter, applesauce, a caramel apple, etc. Ok, so that was stretching it a little, but the point is that projecting a specific future for someone, picking one option when there are man– THIS is unjust. The apple needs voice in what it will become, just as students need voice in what they will be formed to become.
Many students, like Timeka with dreams of becoming a doctor, are not given opportunities to explore their interests in their schools. I don’t pretend to believe that it is possible to cater to every interest, especially in an elementary school, but I do believe it is possible to allow for more self exploration.