Literacy Now

Bullying is not a new phenomenon, but today, parents and teachers are talking about bullying behavior and its effects on children much more than in previous generations. This heightened awareness around bullying is a good thing. Unfortunately, however, this awareness has come as a result of the now countless number of cases in which bullying victims have lost their lives, either as a direct result of the actions of their bullies, or indirectly through their taking their own lives in attempts to end their pain and suffering.

p: Jason Walton via photopin cc

Few of us will ever forget the 2009 suicide of 11-year old Carl Walker-Hoover, who hung himself with an electric cord while his mother made him a cheeseburger.  In that same year, 11-year old Jaheem Herrera hung himself in his closet as his mother cooked dinner. The common thread with both children was that they were both victims of bullying at school. In both cases, the boys were bullied because other children believed them to be gay. These boys are just two of many children whose lives have been lost because of bullying. So while the heightened awareness of bullying is undeniably a good thing, how tragic a commentary that it has taken losing so many precious lives for us to begin to treat the issue with the seriousness that it deserves.

Part of adults’—teachers and parents—nonchalance and inaction with bullying has stemmed from the fact that so many of us grew to see it as a normal, even if unpleasant, part of the childhood experience. In many of our school and childhood experiences, children who had characteristics or qualities that put them outside of average were likely candidates for teasing and bullying. If a child was perceived to be too smart, not smart enough, overweight, underweight, poor, wealthy, gay, or sexually promiscuous (for females), he or she could end up the victim of a bully. And both today and in previous generations, the categories of bully and bullied are not necessarily mutually exclusive ones. In other words, bullies have often been victims of bullying, and bullying victims can sometime turn into bullies. In bullying another child, the bully is often mimicking bullying behavior that she or he has seen or been on the receiving end of.

Few of us have managed to completely avoid being involved in relationships where we were either the bully or a victim of bullying; and for those of us that did manage to avoid direct involvement with bullying relationships, nearly all of us have at least seen it in or schools, in our neighborhoods, or in our homes.  I am no exception. So yes, I approach the topic of bullying from the perspectives of a former middle and high school special education teacher, a teacher educator, and an education policy researcher; but also, and just as importantly, I approach the topic of bullying from the perspective of an adult who was once a child involved in unhealthy adolescent bullying relationships.

As adults—teachers—who have been involved in or have witnessed bullying relationships, we must acknowledge how our own experiences, biases, and perceptions around bullying impact the way we understand and respond to bullying in our professional roles. Here are just a few things teachers should keep in mind:

1. We all have biases, prejudices, and past experiences that can impact the way we see the world and the way we go about doing our jobs. Teachers are people just like everyone else, with political preferences, religious beliefs, ideologies, etc. But it is important for teachers to do the work of trying to understand their own beliefs, biases, and experiences and how those might impact their understanding of and intervention in bullying situations.
   
   I have seen more than a few instances where teachers’ religious beliefs about sexual orientation, their personal biases and prejudices about racial/ethnic minorities, and their political beliefs about immigration have resulted in their failure to intervene in bullying situations where they clearly should have intervened. Please do not let that happen to you. Not only is such behavior a violation of professional ethics, but it puts the well-being of children in jeopardy.
2. Bullying today is not the same as bullying in previous generations of children. Social media has changed bullying significantly. Social media platforms have allowed bullies to attack their victims at any time of the day and from any place. It is no longer necessary for the bully and the victim to be in the same place. Also, bullies are now able to launch anonymous attacks against their victims.
   
   At one time, children could escape the school bully by going home, or even escape the neighborhood bully by staying inside. Children today are unable to escape bullying attacks via social media, and the attacks can happen with the whole class, whole school, or whole town as an audience. The day has passed when the bully’s only audience was bystanders. Now, depending on the platform used, the bully’s audience can be enormous.
3. Never assume that a child is tough enough to endure bullying. While some children show their pain outwardly, others hide it very well. In the cases of 11-year old Carl and 11-year old Jaheem, neither of their mothers had any idea that their sons suffered so severely from bullying abuse that they planned to take their own lives.
   
   Yes, these mothers knew that their children had been bullied, and they had even spoken with teachers and administrators about the bullying, but they did not fully understand the amount of pain that their children were experiencing. For teachers, it does not matter if the victim of bullying appears to take the abuse in stride or if it appears to not bother her much, bullying is never acceptable. Teachers must make it their business to intervene whenever bullying is taking place.

Wayne D. Lewis, Jr. is the author of THE POLITICS OF PARENT CHOICE IN PUBLIC EDUCATION. He is an assistant professor and Principal Leadership Program Chair in the Department of Educational Leadership Studies at the University of Kentucky.

In the not-so-distant past—December 18, 2006—the headline on the cover of Time magazine enticed readers to learn, “How to Build a Student for the 21st Century.” Inside, authors Claudia Wallis and Sonja Steptoe noted that the national conversation around education at the time focused on ensuring that no students were “left behind” rather than how American children would be able to compete in a global economy which required the abilities to work in teams, think abstractly and reason through problems, analyze the quality of information and communicate in a language other than English. Wallis and Steptoe (2006) identified the 21st century skills students need to be successful and suggested that teachers need to bring their methods and the curriculum “in line with the way the modern world works” (p.56).

Seven years later, readers of the P21Blog: Connecting the 21st Century Dots: From Policy to Practice are asked again to consider the needs of students who must learn both the 3Rs (content knowledge) and the 4Cs (Creativity and Innovation, Critical Thinking and Problem Solving, Communication and Collaboration) to be successful in the 21st century workplace (Partnership for 21st Century Skills, n.d.). The P21 Blog, an outgrowth of over a decade of work by a coalition of educators, business leaders and policy makers to improve 21st century readiness, addresses issues surrounding the implementation of 21st century skills and deeper learning in American schools. Beginning this academic year, the P21 Blog, housed on the website of the Partnership for 21st Century Skills, doubled its posts to provide weekly information that focused on answering a driving question about implementing 21st century skills.  

The thoughtful entries offered by a growing group of education experts, business leaders and more recently classroom educators from the P21 Exemplar Schools, are definitely worth reading. Topics include book reviews, policy discussions and most importantly practical articles addressing implementation of 21st century skills in real classrooms. Educators will find entries like “How Can Technology Empower Deeper Learning in a 21st Century School?” and “How Do Teachers Become Deeper Learners?” valuable as they consider how to incorporate critical thinking and problem-based learning activities in their instructional plans. Although commenting on blog entries is encouraged by Jim Bellanca, blog editor and Executive Director, Illinois Consortium for 21st Century Skills and Senior Fellow at the Partnerships for 21st Century Skills, few readers are taking advantage of this opportunity. One thing is evident in reading through the posted comments—divergent opinions are accepted and open for discussion. In addition to commenting, readers are invited to contribute anonymous posts to the blog as “The Secret Educator” taking any position for or against 21st century learning practices and policies. Contributors are asked to be respectful in their discourse and prepared to accept pushback on their point of view. The P21 Blog clearly has potential to become a significant resource and discussion forum for those seeking information about the needs of 21st century learners.

References

Partnership for 21st Century Skills. (n.d.) The champion for today’s students and tomorrow’s workforce. Retrieved from http://www.p21.org/storage/documents/P21_2013_Brochure.pdf

Wallis, C. & Steptoe, S. (2006, December 18). How to bring our schools out of the 20th century. Time, 168(25), 50-56.

Joan A. Rhodes is an Associate Professor and Chair of the Reading Program at Virginia Commonwealth University. 

This article is part of a series from the International Reading Association Technology in Literacy Education Special Interest Group (TILE-SIG).

Students and young readers often ask me if I was bullied as a child. It’s a fair question, since bullying is a major topic in both of my young adult novels (BUTTER and DEAD ENDS), and it deserves an honest answer.

Yes, I tell them, I was bullied. Sometimes, the youngest—and bravest—students will ask how I was bullied. Then we do a little dance in which I sidestep the details of my own seventh grade nightmare and tell them instead about how that nightmare came back to haunt me years later.

I was on a visit home from college, and I met up with some friends at a coffee shop—my coffee shop, the safe haven where I spent most of my happy high school days trying to forget the way kids had treated me in junior high. It was there, in my safe place, where one of the faces I’d hoped to forget suddenly popped up across the crowded coffee house. She wasn’t the meanest mean girl, but she had definitely been cruel.

I hadn’t seen any of my seventh grade tormentors since my parents had moved me two towns and a whole school district away from them, but suddenly I was thirteen years old again. I would have run for the exit if she hadn’t been staring right at me. And she didn’t just make eye contact. To my horror, she actually started pushing through the crowd to get to me.

I probably held my breath, waiting to hear what she had to say. I didn’t have to wait long. She said her name, asked if I remembered her, then she got right to the point.

“I’m sorry for the way we all treated you back then.”

I think her apology went on a little longer, but my mind got stuck on “I’m sorry.” Her words were meant to heal, but they only opened up old wounds. In an instant, all of my seventh grade shame and anger was fresh again. I believe I responded to her apology with something dead clever, like, “Uh. Okay.” Then I went and hid in the bathroom.

It was a one-in-a-billion moment that I squandered when I failed to forgive her. Years later (because yes, it took years), I realized my mistake and tried to track her down, but despite this age of social media and global connectedness, I’ve never been able to find her to accept her apology. So I forgive her the best way I know how—by writing characters in shades of gray—even the “bad guys,” because those bad guys may just grow up to be good guys.

I tell this story to students because I want them to know when I write about bullying, I don’t just write for the bullied. I write for the bullies, too.

“Bullying” has become such a buzzword in recent years, it’s almost lost its meaning. The media like to make it all very black and white, good kids and bad kids, victims and villains. (I feel safe in my media critique, since, as a TV journalist, I am part of the cycle of oversimplification.) But what I can’t do when writing facts, I try to do when writing fiction—and that is to tell a deeper truth about bullying.

That truth is this:

We are all the victim. We are all the bully. This week’s mean girl is next week’s target, and people who are capable of great cruelty are also capable of great kindness.

I learned that lesson from Judy Blume, actually.

I read BLUBBER at the exact right moment in my life—at a time when it mirrored my own experiences. I didn’t know then that it was a book about “bullying.” I thought it was a book about my life! I recognized all of the mean girls from my own classes, and I identified with how quickly the narrator’s status among her peers changed, as she slid from the top of the social totem pole to the bottom. BLUBBER was relatable, and years later, when I started writing my own books, I knew I wanted to try to do what Judy Blume did—to write what felt real.

If a young reader walks away from one of my books thinking a little harder about how they treat people, or vowing to not just stand by the next time they see someone doing something hurtful, then so much the better, but all I really want is for readers to connect, to see a little piece of their own reality in my stories. For me, bullying is just a part of that reality, and I can’t imagine writing books for teens without it.

And maybe some small part of me hopes if I keep writing about bullying, then someday, somewhere, a girl who used to be cruel but grew up to be compassionate and brave enough to right her wrongs, will pick up one of my books and read between the lines those words I couldn’t say to her all those years ago.

I forgive you.

Erin Jade Lange writes facts by day and fiction by night. As a journalist, she is inspired by current events and real-world issues and uses her writing to explore how those issues impact teenagers. Erin grew up in the cornfields of northern Illinois, along the Mississippi River in one of the few places it flows east to west. She now lives in the sunshine of Arizona and will forever be torn between her love of rivers and her love of the desert.

Good books have always served as venues for lessons on life. Wilbur and Fern taught us about friendship, persistence, and trust in Charlotte’s Web. Anne of Green Gables taught us the value of a great imagination and the strength of friendship. Books can mirror our own lives or create windows into worlds we've never dreamed of before. This month’s theme for book reviews from the IRA Children’s Literature and Reading Special Interest Group is friendship. The books selected range in age level and type of friendship, but the central theme of each is the power of friendship and the different forms friends often take.

AGES 2-7

Dyckman, A. (2012). Boy + Bot. New York: Knopf Books for Young Readers.

A friendship boots up between a robot and a boy in this sweet story about finding friendship in unlikely places. The two play and have a great time until the robot suddenly stops responding (his switch has been turned to off). The boy takes him home and tries all sorts of things that would make a boy feel better, from feeding him applesauce to reading him a story. It’s not until his parents accidentally bump a door into the robot’s switch that the robot comes back on. Likewise, when the little boy goes to sleep the robot believes he has malfunctioned. Finally, the robot’s inventor helps to set things straight in this gentle story of friendship.

- Nancy Hulan, Western Kentucky University

Stead, P.C. (2010). A Sick Day for Amos McGee. New York: Roaring Brook Press.

A winner of the Caldecott Medal, this book beautifully tells the tale of a zookeeper who befriends the zoo animals where he works. Each day he does the same thing, playing chess with the elephant, running races with a tortoise that never loses, reading stories to the owl…until one day he wakes up with the sniffles. When Amos does not show up to the zoo, his friends decide to pay him a visit. This story and the wonderful illustrations portray the many things we do for dear friends and the ways friends help us when we are under the weather.

- Nancy Hulan, Western Kentucky University

Stephens, H. (2013). How to Hide a Lion. New York: Henry Holt Publishers.

Sometimes our parents just don’t see the good in our friends. Such is the case when a lion comes to town to purchase a new hat and is chased by grownups in true Frankenstein and villagers style. Iris finds him hiding in her playhouse and tries to hide and protect him from the grownups. Ultimately, the lion proves his worth and goodness and still hopes to purchase that hat.

- Nancy Hulan, Western Kentucky University

AGES 8-12

Applegate, K. (2012). The One and Only Ivan. New York: Harper Collins.

The One and Only Ivan is written in first person from the point of view of Ivan, an artistic silverback gorilla living in a shopping mall. When we meet Ivan, he seems sadly complacent with his lot in life and barely ever thinks of his past in the jungle. His companions at the Exit 8 Big Top Mall include Bob, a stray dog, Stella, a motherly elephant, and Ruby, a baby elephant who inspires Ivan to make some changes. Ivan wants to save Ruby from a lifetime of captivity like his own and uses his artistic expression to help keep her from living a life like his. Winner of the 2013 Newbery Medal, this story demonstrates the power that each individual has to make extraordinary change in the world. 

- Nancy Hulan, Western Kentucky University

House, S. & Vasmani, N. (2012). Same Sun Here. Somerville, MA: Candlewick Press.

Written in letter-form, this book spans a year in the lives of River and Meena. River, a coal miner’s son in the mountains of eastern Kentucky and Meena, an immigrant from India who lives in New York City become pen pals through a school project. They realize that they have found kindred spirits in one another and their unlikely friendship empowers the two pre-teens to find the strength to stand up for themselves and their ideals. They confront one another truthfully about issues of race, religion, culture, gender, creativity, and uncertain futures. With one another’s support, River stands up to coal companies and their use of Mountaintop Removal and Meena struggles to keep her family intact through uncertainty of immigration and shaky citizenship status. This book would be a great tool to foster discussion on issues of immigration, environmentalism (specifically MTR), cultural differences, and acceptance.

- Nancy Hulan, Western Kentucky University

AGES 10-14

Gantos, J. (2011). Dead End in Norvelt. New York: Farrar Straus Giroux.

Jack is grounded for life after accidentally firing his father’s Japanese rifle and mowing down his mom’s corn crop. On top of that, his nose spews blood at any little excitement. His summer looks dreary until a call from Miss Volker, an elderly neighbor whose hands are too arthritic to type her obituaries of the last remaining original Norvelters. She enlists Jack to type and drive and in doing so provides him with some salvation. Jack’s imagination and love of history help him through summertime boredom and the wild adventures that accompany each obituary he and Miss Volker write. Through wax hands, unusual bodily tactics to save a deer, arson in a utopian town, mysterious deaths of old ladies, and raids by Hells Angels, Jack and Miss Volker forge an unlikely and powerful friendship. Dead End in Norvelt won the 2012 Newbery Award. Gantos has recently published the sequel that continues the adventures of Jack and Miss Volker in From Nowhere to Norvelt (2013).

- Nancy Hulan, Western Kentucky University

These reviews are submitted by members of the International Reading Association's Children's Literature and Reading Special Interest Group (CL/R SIG) and are published weekly on Reading Today Online. The International Reading Association partners with the National Council of Teachers of English and Verizon Thinkfinity to produce ReadWriteThink.org, a website devoted to providing literacy instruction and interactive resources for grades K–12.

When I was in eighth grade, I loved things. I loved my friends. I loved Bad English and Poison. I loved reading David Eddings’ fantasy series The Belgariad and The Mallorean. One of these things was not quite as socially acceptable as the others, but I didn’t really know that. Or if I did, I didn’t really get it. I was, and am, a passionate person. I love out loud. And so sometimes my thirteen year old self found herself in the awkward position of loving something that was not cool.

p: cdrummbks via photopin cc

Imagine, if you will, a typical late ’80s junior high classroom. Desks are in rows. The boys and the cool kids sit in the back. I’d ventured back into their territory one day because I’d discovered that one of the cool boys also read David Eddings. He hadn’t gone quite as far into the series as I, and I had a copy of the book he needed next.

It was such a thrill to be making this symbolic trek; I could barely contain my excitement. Here was someone who read what I read, how much more did we have in common? Certainly we’d become good friends. He was likely to fall madly in love with me and be my boyfriend! Wouldn’t all my friends be, like, so jealous? So, with the anticipated envy of the female population of eighth grade prominently displayed on my sleeve, I handed over KING OF THE MURGOS and stood back, awaiting his effusive thanks and a smoldering glance meant to convey his awakening desire.

It didn’t turn out quite like I’d imagined.

Cool boy was more in tune to the social world than I. He knew that reading wasn’t something to be flaunted. He knew that fantasy, in particular, was associated with awkward girls in unflattering haircuts and giant glasses that didn’t even look good on Kim Bassinger in BATMAN. Reading was associated with boys who didn’t play football. So instead of sweeping me off my feet and manfully striding into the sunset, he looked at the cover art featuring the primary female protagonist, and quipped to the delight of his entourage, “Who’s the chick with the rack?”

Twenty four years later I’m still embarrassed when I think about it.

Silly Mary. Don’t you get it? Reading isn’t cool. You have to hide such ridiculous passions. Some things are okay, and some are not. And never the two shall meet. You can’t be on the basketball team and audition for the school play. You can’t go around singing show tunes and expect to get a date for the prom. It was some time around eighth or ninth grade that I started paying attention to what was cool and what wasn’t, and I believed a lot of what I saw and heard. It took twenty years for me to stop believing it.

So why are you reading transcripts from my therapy sessions? What does this have to do with teaching reading? Everything. This has everything to do with teaching reading.

I have decided to take the coolness hierarchy that everyone implicitly agrees to, and I’m going to banish it from my classroom.

This summer I went to craft stores and bought scrapbooking paper. Each page represented something I think my students might love, and the pages became the backing for my bulletin boards. Football, hockey, dolphins, moustaches, cupcakes: those were easy. I forced myself to stretch. I made myself buy paper with math symbols and NASCAR on it. I swallowed my discomfort and bought paper with scriptures that proclaimed “God is love.” After all, these bulletin boards aren’t about endorsing any one ideal; they’re about acknowledging that we ALL have passions, and they are ALL worthwhile. And, more importantly, they are equal.

This year, when I introduced myself to my students, I called myself a “literary dork.” I pointed out the action figures of Shakespeare, Poe, Dickens, and Austen prominently displayed in my room. I let my guard down and gushed about my love of words and how the meaning of a story or a passage or a poem could hinge on one tiny little article. I recited my favorite lines from literature: HAMLET, JANE EYRE, PRIDE AND PREJUDICE, TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD. William Carlos Williams, “So much depends upon a red wheelbarrow…” I felt my volume rise, my face warm. “Neighbors bring food with death and flowers with sickness and little things in between.” I felt tears come to my eyes and I let them come. It was hard, it wasn’t comfortable, and it was a risk, but I stopped worrying about being pretty and composed and authoritative and cool, and I was just me.

In a good classroom, there are moments. I’m sure you’ve had them. The room is silent and all eyes are on you and you know that the kids are just soaking up everything and really feeling it. This was one of those moments.

Because although they may not have discovered exactly what it is they love, they know they want to love. They want to feel deeply and passionately about something important. Even at the young age of 14 they can recognize the bravery it takes to love out loud, and they admire it. They want to emulate it.

And that’s when I pulled out Wesley.

p: WilWheaton via photopin cc

Wil Wheaton is known for his portrayal of Wesley Crusher on STAR TREK: THE NEXT GENERATION. This summer a video surfaced of a touching answer he gave to a woman’s request at ComicCon. She asked Wil to explain to her new baby girl why it’s awesome to be a nerd. His response, which you can watch in its entirety here, is probably best summed up around 1:40 when he says, “It’s not about what you love, it’s about HOW you love it.”

That is the atmosphere I want to create in my room. I want my students to love deeply, passionately, wildly for whatever it is that speaks to them. A handful will react to literature the way I do, and that’s great. But I don’t need all of my students to be mini-Marys. I want them to be artists and actors and jocks and musicians and skaters if that’s what they want to be. I want to open my classroom to all the potential they bring. But I can’t do it alone. In order for my room to be a judgment free place, I need the explicit help of everyone in there with me.

Instead of implicitly going along with the judgmental standard quo, I ask my students to actively choose to be accepting of others’ differences. Students have acknowledged, in writing, that their peers will like things they do not. They’ve also agreed not to give others a hard time. Students agreed not to act as if they are better than anyone else. If they do, they’ve acknowledged that they may be asked to apologize verbally and in writing. Because I can tell my students all day long that my room is a safe place, but if my students don’t back me up, my words mean nothing.

In the coming months, my students will engage in self-directed inquiry projects. They’ll be expected to choose a topic to research, required to develop an inquiry plan, and present a final project that will demonstrate learning in the four content areas. It’s a new idea my team is trying out, and I sometimes feel a little overwhelmed at how open ended and daunting it seems. But then I look at my bulletin boards, clad in sheet music and manuscripts and baseball bats, and I recommit to helping students explore and express what they love.

Mary Cotillo is an 8th grade ELA teacher at Horace Mann Middle School in Franklin, MA. Mother to two children, she enjoys engaging in light saber battles and hanging out on soccer fields. She earned her National Board Certification in 2009.