Journal 10

Student: A

Today was a pretty interesting day at Portland West. For the first time, I had the opportunity to work with A one on one. I really like individual experiences because I can devote my attention to one person and have a more meaningful dialog. It allows time to work on the lesson as well as have a substantial conversation about non-school related topics. Today I was conflicted about teaching a certain topic, faced with an angry student, and left feeling horribly guilty about something I didn’t do. It was all rather exhilarating.

The lesson plan for today included a worksheet about opposites, followed by a reading about the origin of Thanksgiving. This topic is an unsettling one for me, especially considering the perspective provided by this particular handout. I have an issue with the teaching of certain topics to children, especially where it concerns American history. I’ve always felt lied to in regard to certain historical topics and I’ve always told myself that if I were to ever become a teacher, I wouldn’t perpetuate the same falsehoods that were presented to me.

The image of pilgrims and Native Americans sitting down and enjoying a nice turkey dinner while exchanging domestic living tips is a perfect example of what I mean. Now, it’s possible that it really happened and that the whole thing was very quaint and cozy. The problem is that it paints a picture of the relationship between the two peoples as slightly more rosy than it actually was. In the picture provided above the text there was no hint of smallpox blankets, raped women, stolen land, or slaughtered tribesmen.

These were the thoughts going through my head as I listened to A read about the celebratory feast shared by European settlers and the Wampanoag tribe. It is one thing to want to explain the fallacies in such a story, and entirely another thing to be able to put this in words for an English language learner to understand. I settled for prefacing the story with the disclaimer that the story was a legend that was not, in fact, true. It was simply a nice story to tell children. This, A seemed to understand.

After the lesson we had time for a more personal discussion about A’s home and personal history. In a discussion about education, he mentioned that all school in Iraq was free. There were expensive private schools, but for the most part all levels of public schooling, including university, were free to Iraqi citizens. This blew my mind and I asked him to explain. It’s in these conversations that A comes alive. His face lights up as I ask him questions and he is able to tell me personal things about himself and his life before coming to America.

As he continued to explain the socialist economic system under Saddam Hussein, I realized how ignorant I was of Iraqi government and economics. My previous thinking of the country’s government stopped at the fact that it was a dictatorship. When I think socialism, I think of peaceful little European countries like Sweden and Norway. It never occurred to me that this was the economic system of Iraq. A explained that, working as a teacher, he received about $8 to $10 each month, but everything was paid for. He had free schooling and free health care, but it was difficult to buy clothing or possessions.

This personal golden age ended for A when the war began. The war brought with it the freedoms and restrictions of capitalism. Now he suddenly made $200 each month, but couldn’t afford clothing, education, health care, or even much food. That war disrupted his way of life for the worse was something I already understood about A, but it was interesting to hear the specifics about daily living and personal financial issues. There was another volunteer in the room who was absolutely shocked by this and didn’t quite seem ready to accept that life could have been better under Saddam Hussein than under an American-appointed president ruling over a fledgling democracy. She expressed her surprise, which A seemed to interpret as disbelief and defensiveness.

The previous program director, Ana, stopped in for a brief visit and casually mentioned that there will soon be an influx of Iraqi refugees coming to Portland. Many of them are highly educated and several have been interpreters working with the US army. At this, A suddenly barked “Traitors! Tell them A say they are traitors.” This surprised all three of us, but it was certainly an understandable opinion. The other volunteer showed a little too much surprise for A’s liking and he again interpreted it as defensiveness of the American war effort. It’s hard for me to say whether or not his interpretation was correct, but it seems that he wasn’t entirely wrong in his assumption.

A then became quite passionate in his explanation of the use of the word traitor. He didn’t cross the line into disrespect or intimidation, but his anger and frustration were quite evident. He bitterly explained the feeling of a bullet grazing his head, of seeing another bullet hit his daughter in the head, and of losing his brother to the war. He told of the fear of living in our newly instituted democracy (a word he treats as a swear) where at every street corner he is asked where he is going and whether he has his papers. This was mostly directed at the volunteer who expressed a little too much surprise at his criticisms of the war. Then he left, visibly upset.

The whole episode was fascinating to me. Not only did it shake me up because it happened so suddenly and unexpectedly, but I felt privileged to witness such a strong and authentic display of anti-American sentiment. These are ideas and opinions I’ve read about countless times on blogs, in chat rooms, in the selected essays of cultural studies classes, but I have never been face to face with a person so emotionally invested in the topic as they vent such energized views.

I understand that there is no value in guilt. But I felt all the guilt of a Judgment Day sinner. I felt guilty for being an American male who, under different circumstances, might have been that American sniper who shot A’s daughter in the head. I felt guilty for the time I tried to enlist in the army. I felt guilty for teaching a lesson about a fake thanksgiving which attempted to justify the slaughter of an earlier group of people who also got in “our” way.

But, as I said, it was fascinating to see and I’m glad I was there for it. Far from making me want to avoid the subject with A, it makes me want to pursue it further. By now, I’m fairly certain he understands my less than patriotic point of view and I don’t think he misinterprets my questions. Ana said it’s like therapy for him because he rarely gets a chance to express his anger at his situation. He often feels robbed and cheated, with few opportunities to vent. I believe that, if approached delicately, the discussion can be enlightening for me and cathartic for him. Ana also said that it’s helpful for A to see that not every American has the same attitude toward the war or toward the army. I think he appreciates my lack of patriotism.

So in terms of the class readings, I can readily apply to this situation the concept of “misappropriation” as mentioned by Brandt. Specifically, Brandt says that “’misappropriation’ is always possible at the scene of literacy transmission, a reason for tight ideological control that usually surrounds reading and writing instruction.” The reason that I am reminded of this passage is that I believe A is appropriating his English literacy instruction for his own purposes, which might be contrary to the goal of Portland West.

At Portland West, the goal seems to be mainly that of teaching English to immigrants in order to help them function more efficiently in American society. The assumption is that we will help them learn to read and write in English so that they can apply for citizenship, get a license, apply for a job, etc. A’s goal is to return to Iraq as soon as possible and the reason he is learning English is because he needs a fluency in English to attend graduate school back home. I think he will be an outspoken critic of the US in generally and of the War in particular. He will most likely utilize his continuing education for these purposes.

This in no way violates any rules of Portland West and neither his negative assessment of the US nor his plans to return home are a secret to any of the volunteers. But the fact that his personal agenda conflicts with the agenda of US literacy efforts in general is precisely what Brandt is referring to with this concept of misappropriation. In his misappropriation of this instruction, I will be happy to help.