We are taught from a young age when we are allowed to speak and when we are not. We are told to not talk during class. From the teacher’s perspective, this means “don’t have side conversations,” but to a young learner, this means “don’t talk during class.” This juxtaposes what children are naturally inclined to do: ask questions. From ages two to five, it is estimated that the average child asks 40,000 questions. Kids ask, “why this?” and the answer opens up another opportunity for them to ask, “why is that?” Past a certain age, however, this ongoing cycle of curiosity is frequently met with parents or teachers telling them to stop. Unfortunately, the repercussions have proven to be far worse than a child’s incessant asking. Creativity is down. Curiosity is down. Engagement in a classroom is down. Instead of providing a space where children feel comfortable raising their hands, “many educators and learning experts contend that our current system of education does not encourage, teach, or in some cases even tolerate questioning” (Berger 46). Students do not want to raise their hands because they see more consequences of getting the answer wrong than rewards for getting it right. “[They] penalize incorrect answers” (Berger 46). When teachers were asked why their classrooms operate this way, they complain that state standards are forcing teachers to push as much information at the students as possible, leaving no time for questions. Berger explains that as society changes, the way children need to learn changes with it. A learning environment deprived of questions may have been beneficial decades ago when the jobs the children would eventually go into did not require such skills. However, in this age of entrepreneurialism, creative capabilities are more important than ever. Allowing kids to pursue what they are genuinely interested in, not only gives them more freedom, but makes them easier to control. It is harder to make a child sit and listen to something that does not interest them. The school system does nothing to make sure children are receiving the best education to prepare them for their futures, for all students learn in school is to memorize. Even Berger approaches the concept that not giving children tests may produce better students. This passage especially reminds me of a great spoken word poem by Prince Ea called “I SUED THE SCHOOL SYSTEM.” (Video at the bottom) The most intriguing point that Berger made was that “children may be self-censoring their questions due to cultural pressures” (Berger 58). Groups of people who are attached to well-known stereotypes (such as girls cannot do math) are less likely to ask questions because subconsciously they realize that if they raise their hand, they are upholding the stereotype by not knowing something. This means that these students aren't asking questions and, in turn, are negatively affecting their cognitive development. On one of my commonplace pages, I drew a human head being squeezed by a giant hand that is labeled: EDUCATION SYSTEM. There is a thought bubble coming from this student’s head showing them picturing a failing grade on an assignment. The purpose of this drawing was to depict the school system from the point of view of the children. It is true that it is the job of schools to hold us in their hands, but they do not realize how tight they are squeezing our heads. And while we feel that pressure, we also feel the pressure of doing well. We do not go to school to learn, we go to school to get good grades. Another page in my commonplace book shows a student raising their hand and asking, “Can I ask a question?” I drew this because I hear my peers ask this on a daily basis. “Can I ask a question?” This goes to show that “even in the most progressive schools, questioning is still primarily the domain of the teacher” (Berger 60). I think that we read this passage to make us aware of the importance of asking questions– open questions, closed questions, stupid questions. They are all vital to helping us learn, become more effective learners, and succeed later in life.
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“Better Living Through Criticism” by A.O. Scott attempts to tackle an overwhelming question: Why do we like what we like? Have you ever found yourself looking up the top charts for music to listen to? Maybe looking at the most popular movies? Maybe you do something as simple as ordering the same thing as your friend at a restaurant. A.O. Scott examines why certain likes and dislikes are not accepted in society. Why do we like what we are supposed to like? We are taught to do this from everything and everyone around us. Netflix shows you your Top Picks, Amazon insists on what else to buy, and your friends teach you how to act without receiving criticism. However, criticism holds the power to move the world. And any one person can hold the power of criticism. Not conforming to societal norms can be isolating. Personally, I am often teased about my music taste, for I listen to music from the 1960, 70s, 80s, 90s instead of rap. Because I prefer the Talking Heads over Travis Scott, Billy Joel over Drake, and Fleetwood Mac over Chance the Rapper, I somehow become that piece of the puzzle that doesn’t quite fit. (Yes, I did have to ask a friend who some famous artists are right now in order to write that sentence) Criticism is an outlet to express oneself in the most personal, emotional, vulnerable of ways. It is like swimming upstream; you have to fight the current of society pulling you back into formation. Criticism is its own form of revolution. It starts with a single person– any person. And it grows into a movement and then it grows into social acceptability. On the first page of my commonplace book, I chose to document the quotation, “But is that really a kind of person at all?” (Scott 45). Scott writes this sentence after discussing how the internet often dictates what we like and what we have. It is almost as if these sites are creating a digital person and you are forcing yourself into that mold it made for you. Do these suggestions accurately depict the living breathing human sitting in front of that screen with a credit card in their hand?
On the second page of my commonplace book, I drew a picture of a hand (labeled “criticism”) holding a string that is connected to the Earth. In my opinion, I believe that this perfects represents the power criticism has over how the world spins. If criticism wanted the Earth to spin the other way, it would. If criticism wanted the Earth to be flat, it would flatten it like plato. The string represents this fragile relationship criticism has with society. Although influential, too much can cause society to drop into an endless free-fall of chaos and argument. I imagine in this class, we will be pushed to question what we are told to think; we will be encouraged to speak out if we disagree with a comment given by a classmate or an idea we will read. This is an important skill to learn and feel comfortable with, for there will be times in our lives where not contradicting someone has more consequences than staying silent. |
AuthorJo Palisoc Archives
November 2019
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