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OUR GOAL IN EDUCATION
Richard C. Taylor says that literature is “the best that is known and thought,” which then begs the question, “Thought to be the best by whom?” (Taylor, 205). If we are to teach a literary canon in schools to help reach the aforementioned goal, who decides what is included in that canon and how is it used to prepare students for the world? This question has remained for centuries and the deformation of the canon, which presently includes works by William Faulkner, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Mark Twain, and F. Scott Fitzgerald, is becoming more apparent than ever: “Few are accepting proclamations of transcendent greatness anymore, and even Shakespeare’s place in the “canon” can no longer be considered self-evident” (Taylor, 205). This states that believing that certain works transcend time is simply a matter of opinion, and to expand on the idea, John F. Swed states that our current curriculum “uses a much-out-dated model of literacy inherited from nineteenth-century upper class Europe book culture” (Szwed, 425). Our education courses, in a sense, need to be modernized to keep up with cultural trends. While Taylor questions what makes Shakespeare great, I question what Shakespeare’s impact is on a new society of readers. The point is not to form a diatribe against Shakespeare, but to merely use him as an example, as his works are included in the canon more than anyone else’s. Not only did I read numerous plays of his throughout high school, I graduated and went to community college to reread several of his plays in literature classes, and continued to Long Beach State to discover that I had to take an entire class dedicated to Shakespeare in order to graduate. Six years of Shakespeare have gone by and I’m still uncertain as to what he offers readers that modern works don’t. Though teachers will attempt to stretch the themes in classic works to fit the needs of a modern world, the works are merely outdated textbooks struggling to relate to new social issues and trends (Taylor, 211). David R. Olson demystifies this debate when he describes the mind as “a cultural artifact” (Olson, 107). While Shakespeare was an integral part of his culture centuries ago, a new culture has arisen, and therefore new works should be a part of that new culture, for culture is ever-changing, and not stagnant. But for people to believe that Shakespeare does need to be, at least in part, omitted and replaced by modern works, there needs to be proof that demonstrates the frustration students feel when reading Shakespeare; there needs to be evidence that students will respond better to modern works and enjoy the aesthetic and critical thinking aspects of reading more. Fortunately, there is a plethora of such evidence, some of which I will touch upon.
The examination of the literary canon and the field of English education leads us to the classroom. In the first of four interviews with Fullerton English teachers, Lisa Robles and I discussed the students’ reactions to the current literary canon. At this time, students are in the middle of reading the classical poems by Robert Frost, Herman Melville, and the usual writers of that time. As an English major with an emphasis in Creative Writing, I understand the significance these authors have to the development of writing and reading, and for that I can appreciate them, yet for new readers and writers (high school and middle school students), this is not the case. Robles informed me that it’s “very difficult to get students to complete the assigned reading, no matter how little it may be.” The point is, she says, “they just don’t like it,” and few students ever have. So who is the English classroom catering to? It caters to the select few who have grown up in a family where reading and writing has been valued for its own sake, perhaps in the homes of educators and the educated, but for most students who do not inherently enjoy reading and writing, they become excluded (Robles). So I took it upon myself, having witnessed firsthand the students’ frustration with the texts (as I tutor in-class at Rowland High School), to expose them to modern poetry. I should mention at this point that Rowland High School is a “California Distinguished School,” and that if students don’t like the curriculum here, it’s probable that they don’t like it in most all other schools of a lower stature. Upon bringing a modern book of poetry entitled “Stand Up Poetry,” the students had an ideal reaction to it. Not only did the students enjoy the poetry from poets still alive and writing, a few students even bought the books themselves for further reading. Tying this back to Olson’s view that the mind is “a cultural artifact,” it’s easily seen that students will appreciate and enjoy writing from their own culture, yet for some reason the almighty “they,” whether it be the school administrations or the government or somebody else, keep enforcing a curriculum that has been in place for the last century; this is why my English professors and I have the same books in mind when we think of high school English classes. Do these works from Shakespeare and other writers really transcend time, or do teachers attempt to make them look that way to appease those who implemented the curriculum? I would argue mainly for the latter. In defense of the canon, Amy Elias makes the point that the field of Critical Theory and Cultural Studies does allow texts to transcend time. Students and teachers can examine classical texts for the “Marxist, feminist, psychoanalytic, and race/ethnicity” aspects to give the texts meaning in the modern world. We can look at Hamlet and identify with the ultimate question, “To be or not to be.” In addition, Elias asserts that those texts are open to multiple interpretations; therefore, Hawthorne’s Scarlet Letter may not be bound to the theme of adultery alone, but may tell us other things about our modern society. While I agree with Elias, I suggest it would be more beneficial for students to read works with not only relevant themes, but with modern language and modern issues. The book “Stand Up Poetry,” for example, is an instance of writing where there are both literary devices and modern culture present. The students can learn, but also enjoy, for there is the aesthetic quality of reading that seems to be left out when students are made to read Shakespeare. Elias addresses the issue well: “It [literature] can reveal the values of its culture but it can also give pleasure simply as an aesthetic object – and it is probable that art’s aesthetic component may have ethical and/or moral value” (Elias, 233). In my second interview with Leslie Smith, an English and reading teaching at Alvarado Middle School, she made it clear that she encourages reading of any kind in her classroom, and that “students benefit from reading any and all types of materials, fiction or nonfiction” (Smith). Her classroom is filled with contemporary novels for children to read during their silent reading period. When that period ends and it’s time to begin my tutorial with them (to help them with questions regarding their classes), I sometimes have trouble getting them to stop reading, and that is the difference between contemporary and classic works. It seems, and Smith and I both agree, that “the classics can be read and appreciated after students develop a fondness for reading books from authors in their own culture.” In her class students both increase their reading skills and enjoy the reading. It’s a shame that most classes, mostly in high school, are restricted to handling the classical works. So are students being left out? Are they being forced to realize the cultural significance of Shakespeare without being able to enjoy the aesthetic quality it had for its audience in the 1600s? I would say yes, and would conclude that modern works would benefit the students of a modern world. The curriculum must change again and again as culture evolves.
So far I have been discussing the literary canon and how it needs to be revitalized by omitting some of the classic works and implementing modern works in order for students to both learn and enjoy reading which will benefit their critical thinking skills as members of society. Now another question surfaces: how do students cope with the current texts? If the current curriculum really does inhibit students, and if the reading is not being done, how are students able to maintain high grades and keep the curriculum running? James Gee puts the answer into one word: “mushfaking” (Gee, 533). Originally, this term was coined in prison when prisoners had to make do “with something less when the real thing was not available” (Gee 533). Gee gives a clear example: “So when prison inmates make hats from underwear to protect their hair from lice, the hats are mushfake” (533). Similarly, this term extends to “resisting students” who can make it seem like they’ve read without actually reading. Ronald Strahl, a professor at Long Beach State, cites an instance of mushfaking as it relates to his daughter. Though his daughter never read a word about Oedipus, she received a perfect score on her Oedipus essay by following the mushfake recipe, which many successful students know: use complex sentences, successfully use semi-colons and colons to show a mastery of the language, throw in a couple academic words, use the word “ultimately” a couple times, and combine all of this together with some general facts about the topic in question which were discussed in class (Strahl). This formula, currently and successfully used by the students I tutor, guarantees a perfect score. Gee even proposes that students should learn in schools how to mushfake, as curriculums are resistant to change, though I say that students learn mushfaking very well by themselves (Gee, 533). The main point is that students are not doing the reading and, therefore, are not being prepared for society and the critical thinking society demands to solve social problems. In my third interview with Carolyn Creighton of Rowland High School, she repeatedly said that students will not do the reading, and class discussions are, therefore, “empty and shallow,” and usually leave her “doing all the talking.” Creighton goes along with the curriculum because she must, and because, as Strahl points out, teachers are paid extra when they meet the guidelines set forth by the administration. Creighton clarifies that the curriculum has instituted a “battle that will end when the curriculum changes.” Though she has proposed newer texts to the administration, it will take more than one brave teacher to change a curriculum that’s been in place for at least a century. Until then, students will continue to make do with mushfaking, and teachers will have to accept it because the majority of students rely on it.
Up until this point the focus has been on reading, but for a moment I would like to shift to writing in order to tie the goal of English education together in the end. It’s generally apparent that students spend the majority of their time reading works in high school from the literary canon. This canon includes at least four plays by Shakespeare which demands at least one year and a half of instruction (Creighton). It’s simply assumed that reading makes you a better writer, but, to use Strahl’s analogy, you can watch football on television all you want, but it won’t make you a better player. I agree with Strahl here, but want to add that watching the games may make you aware of the rules and give you an understanding of how the game works, but it certainly won’t benefit you past that point. You must get out on the field and play, for as the old adage says, “Practice makes perfect.” In the same vein, to get better at writing you must write. Reading will help you understand literary devices and the flow of natural language, but writing will ultimately benefit writing much more. In my own experience, I began writing short stories at the age of eight, only to realize that by high school I could write faster and better papers than many students in my class. While attempting not to sound egotistic, I attribute much of my own success in writing to practicing the various forms of writing: the short story, the poem, the essay, and the novel. Through experimenting and honing my skills in each of these categories, I was and am still able to express myself better than I would be able to had I spent that time reading. This is not an argument for taking reading out of schools, but for implementing more writing exercises and assignments. Without going too deep into the endless field of writing, it’s imperative that students experiment with unrestrained forms of writing. If the classroom only allows students to write within the five paragraph essay, how much creativity will come forth? You have your introduction, your three points, and your conclusion, and there is not much room for creativity (Robles). We need to allow students to write the way they feel comfortable writing. In my last interview with Karen Wycoff of Alvarado Middle School, she states, having taught both high school and middle school English classes, “Middle school students are much less restrained when it comes to writing than high school students, and that’s because they haven’t experienced the five paragraph essay yet.” Before the issue becomes a dispute regarding the high school writing classes, the key idea here is that students’ creativity can and has been witnessed in free styles of writing. Wycoff is astounded at the difference in creativity between high school and middle school students, and Strahl continually gives written examples of this difference in his composition classes. To support the claim that writing without constraints develops better writing, and therefore better self-expression (an essential tool in being influential to society), I recall writing a series of thirteen essays in my English 100 class which amounted to an essay a week. While the standard was tough to meet, I can honestly admit that there has never been another thirteen weeks which have bettered my writing skills more. Since then I have been able to express myself faster and more clearly than ever before, and it’s thanks to practice. After jumping from reading to writing and covering several issues in between, it comes down to the goal of education, English education in particular, which in itself is debatable. It comes down to Yagelski’s question that is posed in the beginning of this essay: “What, ultimately, are we educating students for?” (Yagelski, 275). If we are in fact educating students to become productive members of society, who think critically and problem solve, the evidence suggests that the current literary canon is merely creating students with acquired skills in mushfaking. They will likely carry that habit, like all other habits, into other places such as their workplaces, and in other societal organizations; this should concern our society as whole, for do we really want students and workers who only seem to know what they are doing? I’ve addressed the possibility that modifying our school curriculum, particularly the high school’s, may very well resolve the problem of mushfaking and of steering new readers away from reading. I’ve presented evidence that students respond well to modern literature and feel that the curriculum needs some, as it hasn’t changed since the beginning of the 20th century. In the end, there is one issue: why is our curriculum remaining unchanged? The view can be defended that such works in the literary canon do transcend time, that Shakespeare spoke about political and social issues beyond his generation. Looking at The Scarlet Letter, adultery is still very much a social concern, but there other contemporary works that say the same thing and are enjoyable for students to read. In my own opinion, The Scarlet Letter is an amazing literary accomplishment and will always have a place in my library, but it is not the English students I am concerned about, it’s all the others who don’t naturally enjoy reading like me and my classmates. I share Strahl’s belief that the school administration simply will not change the curriculum out of sheer laziness; such a change will require new texts, new curriculums, new training for teachers and their methods of presenting new material, and many more obstacles. It’s simply easier to stick with what’s already there, and course assignments have all been designed for Shakespeare and the canonical authors (Strahl). If our school curriculum could bring its focus to modern works and implement a healthy amount of writing, students would certainly be prepared to express themselves and understand the expressions of others in this future society that Yagelski mentions. With having developed self-expression, students will be prepared to voice their opinion when highly debated social issues arise. Until then, I maintain that mushfaking will continue produce apathetic students who lack critical thinking skills, but who will be perfectly good liars. Taking all of the aforementioned points into consideration, the goal of English education may not be hopeless. Change is inevitable, and a little change may take the Education department in a rewarding direction. Yagelski’s Utopia is not as far off as one might think.
Works Cited
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