Snapshots of everyday violence

I began working at Castlemont High in East Oakland two weeks ago.  I no longer have much time for reading or writing, but here are some flashes from last week:

Wednesday: Wednesday is an early release day so that the teachers have time for professional development and collaboration.  I’m in the music room with eight other teachers, discussing how we can make better use of the advisory classes.  Then a sound: “what’s that?” a new teacher asks.  Others look up and calmly say, “gunfire.”  “But it sounded so soft.” 

Thursday: One of my few Yeminis students is pretty checked out today.  I go and talk with his girlfriend.  “What’s up with ---- today?”  “Oh don’t you know Mr. B?  His friend got shot at yesterday.”  “Is he ok?”  “Yeah, they just trying to scare that nigga.” 

Friday: I overhear this in my classroom: a black female says a young black man with a crush on her, “you too fuckin’ scared to use a gun.”  He hangs his head and does not reply as she looks at him condescendingly.  I walk over, pretending I didn’t hear, and ask, “hey, I’m looking forward to this weekend.  What about you guys?”  After class I ask him to stay.  I told him what I heard. 

“What do you think about what ----- said?” I ask.  “I dunno.  I mean, it’s fucked up.”  “What’s fucked up?”  “I dunno.  It just is.”  He looks confused.  I put on my “man-to-man” voice I use with my male students: “Look,” I say.  “What if she told that to another man, a man who’s not as strong as you?  If he wasn’t as strong as you, maybe he would do it.  I think that’s what’s fucked up.  What should men do when they get challenged like that?  I mean, some of them might give in.  Especially if they’re around people who challenge them a lot, they might give in.  You know what I mean?  We need to put ourselves around the right people.”  "Yeah, yeah.  I know."  "You see it?"  "Yeah, I see it," he says. 

Teaching Historical Causality, Analyzing Similarities and Differences

-->As history teachers we are always trying to help students engage with history.  One of the basic ways we do this is by connecting the past to the present, either through analyzing causality – how past events shaped their own world – or through examining similarities between past worlds and their own experience.

These can grow into quite sophisticated forms of thinking.  Regarding historical causality, the main task is to help students gain more complex understandings of the causes of historical events.  Most high school students I’ve worked with have a tendency to say, “this caused that”: to look for a single causal factor for an event.  When I’ve worked with sixth graders, whenever we look at an important event I give them three causes to find, and then ask which are the most important.  (The major difficulty is that textbooks usually don't make the multiple causes of historical events clear enough to actually analyze, so I've often written my own material.) If sixth graders do a few rounds of looking for multiple causes, they stop assuming that historical events have one cause and they automatically look for multiple causes.  Additional layers of complexity can be added over time, such as increasing the level of abstraction, starting with the causes of events and moving to the causes of ideas, beliefs, and emotions; and incorporating the analysis of evidence: which causes can we be the most sure about?  By the time students get to high school, their ability to analyze historical causality should be fairly complex.

Recognizing similarity is also a very sophisticated task, because similarity is not sameness: rather, an analysis of similarity will entail understanding differences, and vice-versa.  I watch adults mistake cross-cultural similarities for sameness all the time: noticing a similarity, they often end up reading their own culture onto someone elses, failing to notice subtle but important differences.  Different cultures that students examine in history class will have similar notions, for example, of freedom or of justice and injustice, but they will never be quite the same.  Sometimes radical differences get misinterpreted as similarites.  For example, earlier today I was reading about how Zen became popular in the west partly because westerners understood the radical autonomy, anti-authoritarian behavior, and complete self-assuredness of Zen monks as the epitome of freedom.  However, the similarity was based on western notions of freedom that didn’t exist in Japan, where deference and freedom were linked in ways that alluded western perception.  Knowing nothing of Japanese notions of freedom, westerners unknowlingly read their own ideas onto another culture and created their own idea of Zen.  Ultimately, an analysis of what freedom would mean to a westerner versus a zen monk would entail a sophisticated ability to think about the forces that shape culture and about the ways that cultures interpret one another.  When we think of analyzing similarity and difference in this light, it becomes clear that at more sophisticated levels, there are many skills involved, and that these skills provide great cultural insight... including insight into ones own culture, and thus ones own self. 

As with similarity, when people see difference they often only see difference.  But a sophisticated way of perceiving difference entails understanding similarity.  These skills are enormously important, because if we see only one or the other, we become involved in stereotypic or even prejudicial thinking.  The analysis of similarity and difference is thus a form of critical thinking that reduces stereotypic thought and facilitates empathy.

Part of our task as history teachers involves creating lessons that help our students gain more sophisticated ways of analyzing historical causality and examining similarities and differences.  This requires understanding what these skills look like at higher and lower levels of sophistication.  If I begin the year with a group of sixth graders by teaching them to always look for multiple causes of historical events, and they quickly learn this basic habit, what next?  Where should they be by the end of the year?  By the end of the year after that?  

I was thinking about all this because last night I began writing a post on the foundations of the ancient Egyptian state and its accompanying mythology.  The post is actually my first step in writing a sixth grade unit on ancient Egypt.  Halfway through writing the post, I found myself thinking of the skills I wanted the unit to facilitate, and so ended up writing this instead :)

The Hidden Mural of Mission Dolores

A group called Shaping San Francisco host monthly gatherings on the history of the city which I normally attend but will have to skip tomorrow.  Until last month, it was held at the dance studio Counterpulse which is three blocks from my house.  Here’s the location at Mission and Ninth circa 1854:

Looks like "Mission Plain Road is simply "Mission" these days...

Archiving San Francisco is part of what Shaping San Francisco does.  In fact, you can contribute through their project Found SF.  They also do awesome historical bike tours…one day as a teacher I hope to take my kids on some!! 

So I was exploring Found SF today and thought I would share this picture of Mary’s pierced heart, from Mission Dolores circa 1796:  

The Immaculate Heart, pierced by three daggers

 Here’s my mash-up of the accompanying essay:

“Behind the wooden altar in the sanctuary at Mission San Francisco de Asís, is a wall painted in the late eighteenth century by Indian labor. Painted directly onto plaster, in ochre, white, red, yellow, black, and blue/grey, the mural, which is adorned with abstract patterns as well as Christian imagery, is still virtually unknown to the public, despite its rediscovery and subsequent publicity in early 2004.  This mural covers the entirety of the rear wall of the church, behind the historic wooden altar. It measures 22 by 20 feet and includes two statuary niches. It was eclipsed in the year 1796 by an impressive baroque-style relief sculpture shipped from San Blas, Mexico called a reredos. This reredos continues to stand as the backdrop to the mission altar and has concealed the wall painting for over 200 years…

“Mission San Francisco de Asís takes its “nickname” of “Dolores” from the nearby stream, Arroyo de Nuestra Señora de los Dolores. The friars honored the Blessed Virgin Mary by depicting her heart pierced by swords… [more on the meaning of Dolores and the pierced heart below...]

“The first known visual record of any decoration at Mission Dolores was an illustration in 1816 by artist Louis Choris. His watercolor painting depicting Indians dancing at Mission San Francisco shows colored geometric patterns on the lower portion of the buildings facade.”  Louis Choris is described as “an exceptionally talented Russian-Ukranian expedition artist who visited California in 1816.”  This link has more images of the Native Americans of San Franciscode Asís.

Natives Dancing at Mission Dolores, by Louis Choris

This is a tangent, but I found the essayists choice of the word "Indian" interesting.  In most cases, I might assume it was a thoughtless mistake.  But the folks at Shaping San Francisco tend to be involved with Native American politics and cultural activities, so I thought there might be another reason.  The politically correct term “Native American”, in my experience, isn't viewed that favorably by Native Americans.  While working with Native American artists at the Museum of Northern Arizona and while spending time on the Navajo Rez supporting elders and struggling against a variety of injustices, I noticed that Native Americans rarely used the politically correct term to describe themselves, but used the term "Indian" instead.  They'd been using it for centuries; why change now?  It was explained to me that when people said "Native American", it was for their own benefit: the word made the speaker feel better about themselves as a politically correct thoughtful person and allowed them to fit into a politically correct culture.  The use of the word "Indian" was actually more intimate, and I changed my own politically correct language to reflect that.  I even found myself in the ironic situation of using the term “Indian” when writing for Native American audiences and their friends and supporters, and using the term “Native American” when writing for everyone else, such as right now.  

As for Mary’s pierced heart, the subject of the Native American mural drawings and the object of their (perhaps forced) devotion, Wikipedia has this to say: “The Immaculate Heart of Mary (also known as The Sacred Heart of Mary) is a devotional name used to refer to the interior life of the Blessed Virgin Mary, her joys and sorrows, her virtues and hidden perfections, and, above all, her virginal love for God the Father, her maternal love for her son Jesus, and her compassionate love for all persons”.  While the Sacred Heart of Jesus symbolizes complete and unconditional love for humankind in all their imperfections, the Immaculate Heart of Mary refers most importantly to the devotion to Jesus regardless of the hardships involved.  The most common representation of the Immaculate Heart is the heart pierced by a sword, which refers especially to Mary's suffering at the foot of the cross.  However, as we see on the mural image above, her heart is pierced many times: another name for Mary is Our Lady of Sorrows, in which her heart is pierced seven times, including not only by her son's crucifixion, but later by receiving his body into her arms.  Mission Dolores is named after Our Lady of Sorrows, or Mater Dolorosa, "the mother who suffers."  The mother is a powerful image, for no one can suffer more, be willing to suffer more, and be more devoted than a mother to her child.  In other words the image of the pierced heart is a symbol of complete and utter devotion, a worthy object of worship.  Here is an image of Mary's seven sorrows and images of the immaculate and sacred heart below.  

Mary's seven sorrows

The Immaculate Heart

The Sacred Heart, often shown encircled by the crown of thorns