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Feel These Words: Writing in the Lives of Urban Youth Summary:By Susan Weinstein
An in-depth look at the creative writing practices of nine Chicago youths. Introduction I always thought the stories I had in my head were definitely better than those I’ve read. (Robbie) Who wrote these rules? Who formed these schools? Teaching us Lincoln freed the slaves, That Columbus discovered America . . . (José) I was master of the darkest art/since my birth no time to focus on the afterlife/I’m bringing hell to earth not because I’m a menace/but a talented individual young, black, and gifted . . . (Jig) I was a teenage writer. I was also (a long time ago now) an unmotivated student attending a massive public high school of about 5,000 students, doing well in English but not much else, cutting more and more days as sophomore year turned to junior turned to senior, more interested in friends, music, and my own personal and family problems than in school assignments and grades. I share this history because it has a lot to do with why this book exists. Given my background, it seems perfectly reasonable to me that someone can appear to be disengaged with school and with formal concepts of learning, yet be passionately involved in creative intellectual work. Despite the many differences between me and the nine writers in this study1—differences of cultural capital (if not socioeconomic status), race, (in some cases) gender, and geography—in significant ways, I was that teenager, less alienated than some of The Writers, certainly, but the classroom—if they make it to the classroom at all—doesn’t scratch the surface of who they are. In this case, “who they are” are nine teenagers and young adults from Chicago: Jig, Mekanismn, Crazy, TeTe, Patricia, Marta, José, Robbie, and Dave.2 There are connections and interconnections among some of them: Jig, Crazy, and TeTe are siblings; these three plus Mekanismn are part of a rap crew called The Maniacs; Patricia, Marta, José, Robbie, and Dave are all poets; and Mekanismn, Crazy, Patricia, Marta, José, and Robbie all attended an alternative high school on the south side of Chicago where each of them was, at one time or another, my student. The connection all nine share is that they fit into categories of youth too often represented— by the media, politicians, even the school systems that are supposed to serve them—as deficient in the kinds of characteristics and skills that both reflect and are supposed to lead to middle-class status. That is to say, each of The Writers is either African-American or Latino, all come from lowincome families, and most of them have some difficulty writing formal academic essays and/or using standardized English in speech and in writing. To judge them as unskilled in reading and writing based solely on these measures, however, is to mistake form for content, the mastery of one grammatical system for an overall proficiency with communication, and a lack of interest in certain forms of literacy for a lack of interest in literacy generally. That such youth are immersed in various literate worlds exposes the narrowness of the definition of literacy within which our schools function, and requires an interrogation of the reasons that it is exactly the languages, the forms, and the styles of socially marginalized kids like these that don’t count. Each of The Writers composes in at least one of two general categories: poetry/narrative (I combine these under the general umbrella of “traditional” imaginative writing) and rap/hip-hop. Through interviews and observations, it has become clear that The Writers are motivated not by some romantic muse or inner voice of inspiration, but by the people, contexts, and situations that surround them. Some are influenced by the similar or complementary interests of family members. Some write in a kind of dialogue with published writing and/or recorded music. Some write as a way of verbalizing resistance to personal and societal issues. And many write with, for, and to their peers, bouncing rhymes off each other, sharing their poetry, and encouraging one another to keep writing. In her article, “‘To be part of the story’: The literacy practices of gangsta adolescents,” Elizabeth Moje (2000) defines what she calls the “alternative” or “unsanctioned” literacy practices of a group of young gang members with whom she works. Moje’s important study is an early attempt to describe such literacy practices among this general demographic. Now, though, I hope to challenge the commonsense notion that academic literacies are the universal norm against which other practices are considered alternative. Instead, I argue that for adolescents, it is often the kinds of writing traditionally associated with formal schooling—what others have referred to as “academic” or “essayist” literacy—that are for many youths “alternative” and “unsanctioned.” This is not always true— when students find themselves, in the classroom, able to draw on the rhetorical skills that they have developed through participation in discourses they value, the sense of alterity can dissipate. It seems obvious: young people can and do engage with writing, and often do it well, when they have a reason and when they can incorporate the skills they have developed through prior writing experiences. The fact that students’ writing so often seems alternative and is, indeed, not sanctioned in their academic lives suggests not that they are doing something unusual, but that the schools are. Educators, policy makers, parents, and other adults who have young people’s best interests at heart have a responsibility to educate themselves, to focus not only on what kids need to be taught, but on what makes them want to learn. La Juventud is a school for students aged 16 to 21 who have left high school for some period of time and have either decided or have been required to return. Because the public schools do not have to re-enroll a student once he/she turns 16, alternative schools like La Juventud are the only option for youth who want to earn a high school diploma rather than a G.E.D. Many of the students at this school have children; some have been or are currently involved in gang activities; some have been involved with the juvenile justice system. Many have a history of truancy, which in some cases doesn’t end with their enrollment at La Juventud. While La Juventud is not the central research site for this study, it is the place where I first encountered most of The Writers, first read their work, and carried out a number of interviews and observations. My access to this site comes from having been a full-time English teacher at the school for two years. During that period, I published several student literary magazines and newspapers that included work by Crazy and Mekanismn; Patricia was also a student in my classes at this time. I left that job to pursue a PhD, but throughout the course of my research, I continued to participate at the school as a librarian, a literacy resource, and a volunteer instructor. It was in writing workshops during this parttime involvement at La Juventud that I began to work with Robbie, Marta, and José’s girlfriend Flor....................... NEWER EBOOKS
Sponsored LinksFeel These Words: Writing in the Lives of Urban Youth Keywordsliteracy writers alternative practices juventud schools students josé robbie mekanismn marta crazy patricia youth formal involved english jig skills site marta josé patricia marta josé robbie mekanismn crazy creative intellectual passionately involved formal concepts perfectly reasonable socioeconomic status cases gender |
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