Ruthless Equity, Chapter 9

In Chapter 9 of Ruthless Equity, author Ken Williams wraps up the book by arguing that “we must de-cide…put all other options to death” and commit to ruthless equity while fighting complacency every step of the way. (p. 186-187) 

Williams asks us to reflect, “Who saw more in you than you saw in yourself?” I think of the softball coach who made me a captain in my second year on the little league team, the program director who asked me to be a youth staff for a teen leadership program (see pic) I had attended, the senior in college who asked me as a freshman to be her assistant stage manager, the person who offered me the job as editor-in-chief of the local LGBTQ+ magazine, the woman who developed me to take over her position as she approached retirement. (I’m just realizing they were all women. Go figure.)

I have never been particularly ambitious, but I have always stayed open to opportunities, and while these people were offering me an opportunity, they were also asking me for help. I like to be helpful. Once I stepped into these roles, I was motivated to excellence, both out of fear of failure and disappointment, as well as enjoyment for the task at hand and a sense that it would lead to the next thing. I learned all kinds of leadership, communication, organizational, and interpersonal skills. I rose to “fill the crown,” (p. 140) and had some measures of success and fulfillment in these roles because someone asked me to fill them, not because I particularly aspired to. I can’t imagine where I would be without these women who believed in and motivated me. I learned valuable skills from each experience, which directed the trajectory of my career, and I’m grateful to those people, all of whom I admire.

At RIC, I’m pursuing a youth development MA. I am not an educator or a school nurse, but I have staffed a bunch of youth leadership camps, trained youth staff, mentored countless interns, and I’m a mom looking for any advice I can get to raise happy healthy children. The advice in this book is super helpful in affirming some instincts I’ve always had about youth work, especially being curious about the youth I’m working with, discovering their talents and strengths, and pushing them through achievable challenges. And Ruthless Equity comes at a critical moment in U.S. history, when we all have to decide what we’re willing to fight for. I have certainly succumbed to complacency at times, and I have written off some kids, for sure. This book has helped me to identify those moments of complacency and recognize that “essential learning outcomes” must be ruthlessly pursued, or I’m not doing anyone any favors.

As an action-oriented person who is often frustrated by “idea people,” I like the quote Williams chose to end the book. “The world is changed by your example, not your opinion.” - Paulo Coelho, Brazilian lyricist and novelist

Ruthless Equity, Ch. 8

In Chapter 8 of Ruthless Equity, Ken Williams argues that on a bad day, “you must discipline yourself to overcome it… understanding that you are always in control of your response, behavior, and choices.” (p. 174)

Williams points out how business owners have to show up each day, no matter how rough, and push beyond their mood to make a sale or provide a service, or face the consequences of dissatisfied adults who may abandon the business, post a negative review, file a complaint, etc. “Cheating students is easier than challenging adults,” (p. 174) says Williams, offering an explanation for how complacency sneaks into teaching, especially when students hit a learning curve and success seems further and further out of reach, aka “diplementation” (implementation dip).

In such a circumstance, a ruthless equity mindset reminds us that, “Rewiring of the brain in any form requires consistent repetition. Turning the corner with any new practice requires you to be both persistent and consistent.” (p. 176) This reminds me of a favorite saying: We can do hard things.

I was touched by Williams’s story about his most challenging 5th grade student called David. Williams’s breakthrough with David was hard fought; only after months of enduring David’s “stiff arm” tactics was Williams able to convey his own inspiration from his second grade teacher, Sister Mary Claire, which fuels his investment in and care for his students. This scenario hearkened back to the work of education researcher Lisa Delpit, whose three pieces of advice to teachers preparing to encounter a wide range of cultures, abilities, and talents, was essentially to:

1. Humbly recognize you have much to learn from your students and their communities.

2. Approach the work with a sense of inquiry.

3. Be willing to share your story.
   
   

Williams took the time to understand David’s home life, challenges, and self-perception. By sharing how Sister Mary Claire inspired Williams – and showing David the academic medal she presented to him in 1975 to prove it – Williams demonstrated his commitment to David and the other students, and his belief that they can achieve great things. David’s hug with Williams, which my teary eyes read as the climax of this book, signified that moment that all teachers must yearn for: knowing that your influence is changing your students in a positive way, charting their course for the better. Not only did David connect socially and emotionally, but following this heart to heart, David began to achieve academic goals at a more rapid pace, and caught up to students at his grade level, which for Williams we know is the ultimate goal of teaching (students mastering essential learning outcomes). Clearly David became a new source of inspiration for Williams, fulfilling number 1 on Delpit’s list of advice.

While reading Ruthless Equity, I’ve often questioned the author’s use of the word “ruthless,” which to me calls to mind violence and a lack of compassion. I’ve come to interpret ruthlessness in this context as focused, tireless discipline, which I’m sure wouldn’t sell as many books. Williams’s editor David Hogan aptly summarizes the essence of this book with his quote: The road to ruthless equity is long and challenging; you will be discouraged, but when you persevere, your rewards and the benefits to your students will be immeasurable. (p. 181)

"Aria" & "Teaching Multilingual Children"

 

Richard Rodriquez’s deeply personal account “Aria” about learning English as a young Spanish-speaking child enabled this English-only speaker to empathize with the plight of families living in America with a home language other than English. Rodriquez recounts a turning point at age seven, after teachers who were also nuns visited his home to urge his parents to speak English in the home so that he and his siblings would fare better academically. His parents agreed, and Rodriquez recalled, “That day, I moved very far from the disadvantaged child I had been only days earlier. The belief, the calming assurance that I belonged in public, had at last taken hold.” (p. 36) As the young Rodriquez began to speak more and more English, distance grew between his parents and the children: “No longer so close; no longer bound tight by the pleasing and troubling knowledge of our public separateness.” (p. 36) Rodriquez seems to find the trade off worth it, arguing: “Bilingual educators… do not seem to realize that there are two ways a person is individualized…. [W]hile one suffers a diminished sense of private individuality by becoming assimilated into public society, such assimilation makes possible the achievement of public individuality.” (p. 38-39) I found this contrast between public individuality and private individuality pretty fascinating. On the one hand, private individuality seems to me more at the heart of a person’s soul – who we are when we are most free, whereas public individuality seems necessary for survival in human society.

Virginia Collier’s not so personal essay “Teaching Multilingual Children” comprehensively advocates for seven guidelines for English language acquisition, prefacing this by saying, “The key is the true appreciation of the different linguistic and cultural values that students bring into the classroom.” (p. 223)

Collier’s guidelines contrast with the method Rodriquez credits with his pursuit of mastering English. She discourages: the perception that a teacher’s duty is to “correct deficiencies"; eliminating the first language; and forbidding “code switching,” (which I originally took to mean hiding aspects of one’s personality or speech and embellishing other aspects to assimilate to whatever group, but in this case code switching describes alternating or blending words from multiple languages within a sentence while speaking). Collier rather encourages: awareness that building language skills in a child’s first language will translate to learning English; using “caregiver speech” (p. 224), (which I immediately recognized as true to how I speak to my children); teaching English and “home language together with an appreciation of dialect differences to create an environment of language recognition in the classroom” (p. 227); and tailoring curriculum specifically to the English language learner, a technique backed up by research showing that the “most successful long-term academic achievement occurs where the student’s primary language is the initial language of literacy.” (p. 233)

Collier describes the three major bilingual teaching models as: transitional, maintenance, and two-way enrichment, remarking that a school system will choose its model based on philosophical and political goals. (p. 228) Collier acknowledges the pressure of unhelpful policies, pressure on teachers to speed up the process, and expectations that, “Teachers must be creative and flexible, serve as a catalyst for discovery as students learn to operate effectively in their multiple worlds, be able to mediate and resolve intercultural conflicts, keep students on task, and serve as a support base.” (p. 223) While this sounds like a tall order, Collier reminds us of the “enriching experience” of teaching as being “rewarding in ways that many other jobs can never be. You have the chance to interact daily with live, growing, thinking, maturing human beings.” (p. 223)

To balance the challenges of bilingual teaching with its rewards, it sounds to me like there is zero room for what Ken Williams warns about in Ruthless Equity: “complacency… the enemy to equity in education… a willful falling short of goal and purpose.”

These readings have me reflecting on my desire to learn Spanish, which leads right to my fear of failing to learn Spanish. It seems so daunting. I wish I had an opportunity to study Spanish in school, and I fervently hope my children will become fluent in Spanish (and teach me, or we'll learn together?) by taking courses in the Providence public school system. I attended the PPSD school choice fair where I spoke with multiple principals of “dual language” schools to consider opportunities for my son to be immersed in Spanish. It turned out the programs weren’t really designed for English speakers, and we weren’t encouraged (nor explicitly discouraged) to choose those schools. I’m left hoping my kids will be able to take Spanish classes by middle school, but I worry that it will be more difficult to learn a new language the older they get, and they/we will be missing out on opportunities to communicate with our community members.

I had an experience last year that left me feeling like I needed to boost my skills to open new doors in my career. I’d been reading local community job listings every day for years to make sure I knew what opportunities were out there; I knew that having a Masters Degree or being bilingual in Spanish would be the two most advantageous lines to add to my resume. When I was deciding whether to come back to RIC, I asked my would-be advisor if RIC offered an introductory course for professionals and it sounded like the possibility existed. I enrolled, and the advisor was looking into whether a Spanish class could be cross-listed for graduate students, and after some back and forth, long story short, it wasn’t possible, at least for me. Why isn’t RIC, a “Hispanic serving institution,” more actively encouraging professionals to acquire Spanish language skills? I understand that their intention is to serve Latinos and Spanish-speaking students, but they will also benefit from their classmates, colleagues, and neighbors being better able to communicate with them, and it would foster social cohesion. Maybe the reason is simply that there isn't demand for such a course or courses. I want to be able to speak with and provide services for as many of my neighbors and community members as possible. I think Spanish courses that especially helped people learn Spanish from a customer service perspective would be so helpful. I’m really enjoying being back in school, and it felt important for me to be in a classroom again, but part of me wonders if I’d be better served by spending these many, many hours on Duo Lingo for a tiny fraction of the cost of an M.A. Ah, well, no tener remordimientos!