Teaching Inside: On Hard Work and Achieving the “Impossible”
The picture above, quite literally, changed my life. One day in October 2015 I was minding my business, and the business of all my friends, whilst browsing Facebook. I happened to see an article about a debate team beating Harvard and, because I am a Harvard hater (not really, but I’m a sucker for David/Goliath stories), I had to read more. Upon closer inspection, it was not an underdog school, per se, that defeated Harvard; it was incarcerated learners who were students in the Bard Prison Initiative that had accomplished this heroic feat. A team of students with limited access to information (internet banned in prisons, teachers as sole source of research/information, etc. — please see previous post) had soundly defeated a team out of one of the most well-resourced universities in the entire world.
I need that to sink in. And I need it to sink in because context of this story is emblematic of the very social structures we abstractly talk about that perpetuate systems of inequity, unequal access, racism, classism, educational elitism, etc. The Bard team’s victory, however, is emblematic of the ways in which we, as teachers inside, need to remind our students that they are capable, especially inside the classroom, of the same levels of educational achievement as any “traditional” higher education student. Instead of being surprised at the successes of our students, we need to expect them and continuously cultivate classroom experiences that generate these victories.
Last night I had my English class in the high security facility. I’ve got two sections, each with 15 men who arrive in my classroom. That means that I’ve got — and any teacher has, really, because I’m not special here — 15 different, comprehensive educational experience narratives at play in class at any given moment. I am sure that I have students who did well in school; I am equally sure that I have students who just made it through school; I am also equally sure that I have students who have had very negative experiences with traditional educational protocols. Somehow I — we, again, as teachers — have to bridge those experiences and create activities and lesson plans that further learning and encourage critical exploration of our particular subjects. I try to do that regularly; sometimes it works and other times I fail, evaluate why I failed, and then try something different. Last night was a win for me, so I’m going to share the experience with you.
My first section came into class in their regular, excited way. They always have off the cuff comments about whether or not they liked the book we’ve read, struggled with the homework, or are feeling overwhelmed by a workload that is challenging them to think critically and broadly about literature that, for many, is new to them. One of them, Student A, said, “Doc, this work. This is strenuous mental anguish over here!” LOL and I said “Good! I take that as a compliment!” Student B chimed in, “Yeah, it’s been really hard. But not impossible — definitely a challenge. But that’s how you know it’s real.” I said, “Yes, real rigorous work is about challenging yourself and pushing yourself beyond the limits you initially thought possible. Ya’ll are doing the damn thing in here!” Student A said, “Exactly. It also means you’re not dumbing it down because you think we’re just dumb inmates.” I said, “Glad to hear that you’re excited about working hard; you’ll enjoy the two books you’ll be reading this week.”
Student B: Two books? Two whole books? In one week?
Me: Yes, but each book is like 100 pages. You read 1984 in one week and that was over 300 pages, so this is like a break.
Student A: I take back all the good things I said.
Me: Good thing for you, I have a good memory!
My students work hard because I expect them to work hard and being in my class, voluntarily, means they WANT to work hard. They aren’t getting credit for this; they aren’t getting good time, other than some hours off the block. I am fortunate enough to work with students who simply want to be in a space where they are allowed and encouraged to work hard and they can encourage their classmates to do the same. I am extraordinarily lucky.
The second story of joy came after one of the groups finished their oral presentations. One of the group members, Student A (a different Student A — it’s a new story so keep up because I recycle these student letters LOL) read the piece he had prepared as his contribution to the presentation and concluded with, “Sorry, miss, but that’s all I got. I don’t really do social/group things. I’m not really a people person.” I said, “You did a great job — what do you meeeeeeean?!” He just sort of did the typical-student-uncomfortable-with-being-in-front-of-the-class-shoulder-shrug-and-look-away maneuver that every teacher recognizes; he made his way to his seat and class continued.
At the end of class, I asked to speak with him. As a note, I make a conscious effort to TRY to frame most things as questions. The students I teach have so very few choices and I just see this as a small way to give them agency and authority over how we engage during and after class time. So, I asked to speak with him and this is the conversation that followed:
Me: Student A, I just want to thank you for your contribution to your group. It was insightful and let me know that you reflected on this piece deeply.
Student A: Thank you.
Me: You’re welcome. I also want to acknowledge your comment after your contribution. It is clear you were uncomfortable and that maybe public speaking really isn’t your thing, like you said. I want to thank you for speaking openly about your discomfort while at the same time leaning into the discomfort of the assignment. It shows me that you’re taking this seriously and that you either trusted the assignment, your group, your fellow classmates, this classroom space, or maybe yourself enough to feel safe enough to do that. It can be scary and I know this is not a place to show fear. So, I’m personally very appreciative.
Student A: Thank you for acknowledging that. I been down a long time, [15+] years. It’s just this place, miss. I’m trying. I’m sorry if it wasn’t good, but I’m trying.
Me: Never apologize for giving 100%. You did a great job, given your discomfort, so you recognize that this is a process.
Student A: These books for next week, though, these are my thing. I can really get into these.
Me: Good! So then I will look to you, in our conversations and projects about these books, to be a leader in the class and in other small groups. Is that something I can count on you for?
Student A: Me?
Me: Yes. You just told me this reading was something you were excited about so I want to be sure I am actively and intentionally helping you with working with others and “being a people person” as you put it! So, is it ok if I lean on you for leadership during the discussion of these books?
Student A: Yeah, miss. I think I can do that.
For some of the students we teach, certain things we ask them to do are REALLY difficult. They are difficult for a number of reasons, certainly the least of which being that we are asking them to think and critique in a setting that actively discourages such inquiry. I think (so, this is where I am really on, like, a streak of generalizability here so give me a little room to make my argument) that especially in higher security facilities where 1) students have longer sentences, overall 2) by the time we meet the students, they may have been incarcerated for 10+ years and 3) many of our students in those higher security facilities may have 10+ years remaining — and, even more realistically, some may never leave. In these instances, perhaps, more things like group work, collaboration, and the resolution of disagreement can seem like impossibilities; for sure, the second Student A thought he would never be in a classroom deconstructing oppressive paradigms in Orwell’s novel.
But for him, and for me, it all became possible when he, for what I am seriously thinking is the first time, spoke up and out in class to state, simply, “The less people think about their oppression, the easier it is to keep them enslaved.”
Well said, Student A. Well said.
And thank you.
