Teacher Geek Part One: Comic Books

"With Great Power Comes Great Responsibility"

-Voltaire (and later Spider-Man)

Recently The Avengers opened to gigantic business in the United States.  With The Amazing Spider-Man and The Dark Knight Rises sure to rake in their fair share, the hold of comic book culture is evident, but what role do comics have in our curricula?  What role can they have?  What role should they have?

Teachers as Comic Book Geeks

Sideshow Collectibles Bust of Comic Book Guy

Looking around, both in my building and virtually, I see many educators who double as comic book geeks.  In the past that may have been a secret identity or an origin story buried deep behind layers of academia.  Not so in this post-modern era - like Iron Man in recent Marvel Comics story lines, our love of comics is a known element. 

Intelligent and thoughtful bloggers such as John T. Spencer and Tom Panarese are incorporating comic books into their educational philosophies, and even directly into their classrooms.  In my own Humanities classroom, Stan Lee was researched and presented as an "American Dreamer", and resources were not difficult to find in our excellent school library, let alone on the internet.

Shift to Legitimacy

Watchmen cover art

Graphic Novels are continually gaining legitimacy in English circles.  Whereas The New Mutants or Watchmen of my youth were viewed by the supposed experts as glorified funny papers, the apotheosis of this medium is nearing completion.  Works such as Persepolis and Maus are pushing the perception of graphic novels as near the pantheon of canon as they have ever been.  Additionally, Classic Comics of my youth are now easily replaced in classrooms by original text versions of many classics, whether they be Shakespeare or Shelley.

Most importantly, comics are moving into the spotlight as a medium of expression for students.  In our increasingly visual world, the seemingly innocuous skill of constructing a comic can quickly become a springboard for storyboarding full video productions.  Companies such as ToonBoom are specifically targeting K-12 to address this shift, and software choices are expanding all the time.

Assemble!

With great power comes great responsibility.  Our responsibility is to harness the zeitgeist of comic books and their heroes in our educational practices.  In 2012, teaching to student interest rather than squashing it in favor of traditional (outmoded?) materials and methods is an obvious step for any thoughtful educator.  For a comic book geek like me, the opportunities appear quite super.

Thoughts on the Flag

Each morning, our students say the Pledge of Allegiance, often mindlessly reciting words that have become devoid of meaning.  They don't tend to give a great deal of thought to the ritual, or the fact that they are pledging their allegiance to a physical item in addition to the country it stands for.  In our American studies class, I like to challenge our students to think critically about both the Pledge and the Flag.  Notably, students are often surprised to discover that the phrase "under God" was a later addition (1954 to be exact) to the official pledge.

Our culminating unit on the American Dream offers a wonderful opportunity for reflection about what we are pledging our allegiance to at the beginning of our school days.  I present students with a series of images that may or may not represent the American Dream, and they discuss and analyze using those images as a fulcrum for their exploration.  This year, two images received far more attention than I might have expected, producing the kind of vigorous discussion and investment we'd like all of our lessons to achieve!  These images were White Flag by Jasper Johns and The Flag is Bleeding by Faith Ringgold.

White Flag, 1955

by Jasper Johns

Our analysis of this Johns' painting revolved around the absence of usual colors (blue, red) and the appropriation of an ordinary item that has become invisible.  Students were immediately driven to find racial messages in the color choices, but found it difficult to provide evidence for that "reading".  On the other hand, they immediately identified one of the most powerful elements of the work; it forced them to see the flag that they otherwise would ignore.  Because of projects that had recently been completed, there were no fewer than 17 versions of the American flag on display in our classroom, and yet when questioned, students admitted that they had not noticed any of them.  The flag had become invisible to them.  White Flag forced them to see the flag specifically by changing the flag they were accustomed to seeing.

The Flag is Bleeding, 1967.

by Faith Ringgold 

Faith Ringgold's painting produced two consecutive responses: the first was momentary stunned silence.  Students spent the time that is always demanded by challenging work, truly encountering the work.  The second response was a sea of raised hands and probing ideas and questions, a response that only ceased because of the end of the class.  Why is the black man holding a knife?  Is he bleeding, or is it the flag?  Are the men supporting the woman or is she somehow a captive?  What does the black stripe at the bottom represent?  Where is the black woman?  The questions produced a plethora of theories and answers, but continued to drive the class into greater questions.  My final charge for the students to consider what this artwork says about the American Dream had students chattering as they left the classroom - every teacher's dream.

Our final exam for the course included one essay option that asked how Martin Luther King, Jr. and Malcolm X would each respond to Faith Ringgold's painting.  Those students who chose to answer this essay produced powerful reflections on race, gender, patriotism, and symbology.  I doubt those students will be as quick to recite the pledge as a mindless drone, but rather will deeply consider the meaning and purpose of the words, and the symbol they are directed towards.

Letter from an American Teacher

"In this great American asylum...What then is the American, this new man?"
-Hector St. John de Crevecoeur, Letters from an American Farmer

American education often seems like an asylum, though not in the sense of the word de Crevecoeur used.  Rather than a haven, schools and classrooms can take on the manner of mental asylums, learners and teachers alike suffering form all sorts of infirmities of mind.  What then is the American student?  How is she new, and how do we meet that newness?  A large portion of my answer derives from a program at my school called simply "The Humanities Program".

For the past two years I have been team teaching a sophomore course of American Studies as part of a broader Humanities Program.  The course I teach pairs an English teacher with a Social Studies teacher and features periodic lessons from Art, Music and Religion teachers.  Students study material from a thematic rather than chronological approach.  Assessment options not only include but require creative options, as students must alternate between traditional essays and alternative assignments.  Students have painted, sculpted, acted, and cooked their way into demonstrating mastery of the material alongside more traditional writing pieces.

Student work analyzing the connections between The Scarlet Letter and "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God"

by K. Boggs

My experience teaching this course has been eye-opening.  Students have produced work and wrestled with ideas at a level that I find missing in many of my more traditional courses.  The dialogue between the disciplines encourages and models the kind of collaboration that will be expected of our students in the future.  Our students engage in learning outside of the classroom through quarterly field trip options completed on their own time.  Nevertheless, there are those who question the validity of the program and its methods.  To some, our approach sacrifices content and is irresponsible if not outright rebellious.  I am continually moved to evaluate the practices we use and consider the rammifications for our students.

In short, I think the program's detractors are missing the boat.  They may represent the 1/3 of De Crevecoeur's letter who are wealthy in their original countries - certainly some students thrive under more traditional models.  Like De Crevecoeur, I believe that the motto of emmigrants will be "Ubi Panis Ibi Patria; where he wrote of economic and social realities, I write of educational and learning realities.  Students will be invested where they find bread - where they find sustenance for their intellectual pursuits.  For a great many of today's learners, bread will be found in more inter-disciplinary endeavors.

Similarly, I believe that we are not sacrificing content.  Quite the contrary, we are full to the brim with content for our courses.  The misunderstanding comes from the fact that our content is fundamentally different.  In age where the Stamp Act or the publication date of The Scarlet Letter can be looked up on hand-held devices, the content of our courses should be different.  It has to be different if we wish to prepare our students.  In our study of the Scarlet Letter we incorporated art lessons where we tried our hand at cross-stitching.

While learning about the Stamp Act, some students took trips to Jerusalem Mill or Hampton Mansion to get a feel for the various living conditions of the time.  Learning inched closer to a 24/7 model, with content extending beyond the four walls of room 208.  Most recently, a group project on the American Dream has students reaching out to some of their subjects, dealing with agents, publicists and personal assistant, trying to get a brief interview.  At present one of those groups has been successful, and others continue their pursuit. 

"Sage on a stage" models are increasingly failing.  When our practices work towards developing strategies of "not reading" and concentrate on teaching 19th century literacies in the 21st century, we are engaging in the work of Sisyphus.  We often think of 21st century literacy as being solely about technology, and while tech plays a vital role, it is not the limit of what that term encompasses.  21st century literacy includes collaboration and creativity, initiative and adaptability; characteristics our program embraces.  We need to stop rolling the boulder up the hill and discover creative solutions to reach the summit.  In some cases, we ought to leave the boulder behind. 

For several years teaching Philosophy to college undergraduates I would tell my students, "These theories are the tools I am providing you.  You must then prove to me you can build something with them."  The Humanities Program is giving me the opportunity to try that model on the high school level.  I can provide the materials: literature, history, art, music, grammar, rhetoric.  What will the new American learner build with those tools?  The same papers that have been written and re-written, or something new, bold, original and daring?