Monday, April 21, 2008

Religion in schools

I was required to write on a "contemporary issue" for my secondary experience class, and we've been talking about religion and schools. Guess what I ended up writing on?

Bear in mind that I'm writing to an audience of scientists very dismissive of religious priorities, and I'm wishing I could address my fellow Christians. My tone gets kind of confusing otherwise.

I've discussed religion frequently in the eJournals, but I can't help bringing it up again. Perhaps it is in part because I wish I could explain to the fervent fundamentalists how much a thoroughly secular education has helped my own faith. I also grow tired of defending my love of God and my love of scholarly analysis; it seems I am expected to choose one or the other. The culture wars are just as much an issue in the modern church as in any secular sphere, and as hotly debated. So much for "if it is possible, so far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone"! And, of course, at least one college friend has asked condescendingly how I can be so smart and still be religious. So much for open-mindedness!
Religion is at the core of our lives, and defines us if it is itself defined. This is the crucial understanding for a secular school. We do not want to deny that which defines many of our students in a positive way. Imagine if all mention of football or art were forbidden at school! Yet to truly allow religion, we cannot advocate any one religion. My test has always been this: would I be happy if the same lesson were given with an equally Muslim/Jewish/Hindu/Buddhist slant? If we are discussing the history of the Reformation or the influence of Christianity on literature, yes, I generally would be happy. It would be beneficial to learn more about the Sunni/Shiite split or the Eastern influence on Modernism. I actually came up with my idea for a religion/philosophy class because of the variety of philosophies I've encountered in debates. It's impossible to understand how reasonable minds can differ if we do not understand the other reasonable minds. Fundamentalists ought to recognize the value of knowing their demographic if they view all other faiths as merely the unconverted awaiting conversion. Non-fundamentalists know that intolerance can be broken only by understanding and empathizing.
In the humanities, it's easy enough to stick to factual ground - "x people believed this and acted thus". Ironically, it's the sciences where religion gets dodgy. And again ironically, it's the immense respect which the ignorant have for science which causes some of the problem. Creationists fear evolutionary theory not because they think science is worthless, but because they think science proves truth. Knowing truth cannot contradict truth, and knowing the Bible is true, they think the science supporting evolution must be faulty. The creationists I know earnestly believe that credible science must prove the Bible, and that the creation science must therefore be more credible than evolutionary science. It then becomes a simple question of whether we intend to teach real science or a flimsy excuse to support atheism.
Isn't it lovely how the problem gets inverted? Therefore, the biggest mistake any teacher can make, the biggest mistake any other person can make, is to treat it as simply a religious debate - because we don't want to cede the religious debate to the godless atheists. Similarly, it's silly to think we'll persuade everyone that science could draw a conclusion that might contradict the infallible Word of God.
In a broad-minded community, I don't think the problem would get too severe. In a narrow-minded community, I might encourage biology teachers to teach the entire course through the lens of evolution, to allow time to deal with all the objections. I would introduce the course with a discussion of Bacon and secondary causes - the idea that science started with the assumption that God did it, but that "God did it" is not a sufficient answer, and that science is about examining secondary causes - if God did it, how God did it. The class could then examine the evidence for evolution themselves. Parents could be allowed to participate. What is our best guess for how God did it? Plenty of intelligent design folks would be happy to provide evidence that young earth is unlikely, and coming from a source designed to combat godless evolution, a religious community might be more ready to accept the flaws in young earth theory. Gaps in evolutionary theory could be admitted with the caveat that just because we don't know, it doesn't mean we'll never figure out a good reason for this. Children inclined to explain this with intelligent design could: though intelligent design is an unscientific theory (because it involves God, not just secondary causes), it is not problematic as a philosophy. The problem could be a marvelous opportunity to examine what science is and isn't, and how conclusions are reached. However, it would require a great deal of time, because creationism delights in posing complicated questions and demanding simple answers.
Prayer in schools, the Ten Commandments in schools... honestly, if people can't tell the difference between their faith and the trappings of their faith, they're in trouble. No person's right to pray in school should be abridged. No person's right to display religious teachings should be abridged. I'm inclined to think that if someone wants to say a prayer at a commencement, as long as it doesn't include terms of "and smite/enlighten the godless heathens here present" or "give us faithful victory", it should be considered acceptable; good wishes should always be acceptable, and those good wishes expressed through prayer can be the more earnest. If the Ten Commandments are on display, it had better be for a comparison with Hammurabi's Code or some such, because otherwise one might as well post the rules on kosher or the five pillars of Islam. Again, if a similar thing involving another faith would be offensive, your faith shouldn't be privileged.
As for abstinence and other questions of sexuality, I think a little pragmatism is vitally important. Parents need to take the responsibility to teach their children their values on sex and drugs; it is the duty of the school only to teach what is wise and foolish according to secular standards. In secular America - well, I almost typed "sexular America" there, and I'm not sure that Freudian slip isn't accurate. If parents do not wish their children to learn what can be discovered everywhere in America, those children should be kept safely at home. If parents do not believe even in safe sex outside marriage, they should be able to explain to their children why. It might be wise for schools to include the emotional aspects of sex in sex education, but the responsibility for transcending the secular standard lies at home. Perhaps youth group Sunday Schools should start sex ed!
This paper may have been more of a description of my beliefs than an action plan, but what can I say? My beliefs will be integral to how I act on this issue. I may as well know what they are. I don't think America's future depends on solving our religious conflicts. Conflicts, smart and stupid, have been here throughout America's history, and this fight causes less damage than some. I think the future of the faithful, though, looks grim if they can't stop fighting for God to follow God.

Friday, April 18, 2008

I'm a teacher! I teach! - The First Hurdle

Today was a very important day. Today, for the first time, I faced down a class of high school students and taught them a lesson. I am officially a teacher!

(That is, until I'm flushed with triumph about teaching with my first official lesson plan in my methods course next semester. Or until I'm student teaching next spring. Or until I get my license. Or until I have my own classroom. Or until I've finished my first year. Or until that magic day when the class REALLY gets it. I reserve the right to name any and all future days The Official Start Of My Teacherness.)

How did I manage? Heroically, considering my deep dislike of presentations. I took presenting an old Scottish ballad to a bunch of apathetic, academically indifferent teenagers, looked it squarely in the eye, and... got myself good and drunk first, my old coping mechanism for nerve-wracking assignments.

Those who do not know me will have entirely the wrong impression now; those who do will be utterly confused. I do not use alcohol or any other foreign chemicals to get plastered. I simply distract myself working or surfing the Net or reading till the not-so-wee hours of the morning, and fatigue poisons do the rest. I used to think it was just procrastination; now I wonder if it's a half-deliberate attempt to hit an altered state of consciousness where I no longer feel nervous or frustrated, only euphoric or depressed.

Anyway, I chose my poem well. I managed to get the kids discussing the nature of fairies, and I managed to stop them at the point when they were looking at me funny by explaining that I wanted to discuss the magical kind. And they stuck with that! The first two verses, I let 'em struggle with the original poem. Then I asked them what they thought it meant, when the last stanza warns "'And nae maid comes to Carterhaugh /And a maid returns again.'" They seemed to agree with the girl who decided it must mean no maid ever comes back alive. All attention was riveted on me when I explained that the second time, "maid" was being used in the sense of "virgin". :-D It's sad how predictably it works, actually - load on the sex, and the kids are completely involved. After that point I gave them my quick translation so they could follow without getting utterly lost.

I lost their attention during the lengthy passage on how to free Tam - in retrospect, I should have emphasized more the odd situation of the man being the damsel in distress. Overall, I felt like I did an adequate job, but I could have done better. I also felt like I was getting off easy. This class was taught by an extremely experienced, competent, and deft teacher whose students were polite and well-behaved for this stranger while their teacher was watching. The teacher had also gotten their sympathy for me by comparing my student teaching to their senior exit presentations. The teacher also covered what would have been a woeful lack if I had been going solo - I completely neglected to review, highlight important points, take questions, etc. The teacher covered for me so naturally that I doubt the students noticed. I'm just glad it wasn't a formal lesson assignment. The review is the part where you actually hammer the lesson home; otherwise, odds are it'll be forgotten by nightfall. The teacher also improvised an excellent assignment: allow the students to write their own ballad. I would have spent more time collectively plotting before splitting the students into groups to work on different sections, but then, I would have planned this in advance or I wouldn't have been able to think of it at all. The teacher was improvising brilliantly with the time I left over.

I'm not being too hard on myself; I did well for what it was, and it's okay that I still have things to learn to pay attention to. (Dangling prepositions will be permitted in my class, thank you very much.) Still, it did get me thinking. I did a fraction of what a teacher needs to do, and I got the following review from a teacher who knows enough to know the lack:

"Ms. [gosh, it's weird to be called by my last name] taught a lesson on ballads (emphasis on "Tam Lin") on April 18. She had a class of 17 English IV Standard students in the palm of her hand. When she completed her lesson, the class decided she should be their teacher until the end of the year. :)"

Is it blasphemous that I spent the latter half of the period thinking about how God covers for us? We're allowed to stand or fall for the part we're ready to play, but for the rest, He covers so deftly that we look like we did something we can't. Here, a teacher made it look like I can teach a class. (Actually, God was probably involved too. Three hours of sleep following a sleep-deprived week, then no caffeine... but then, adrenaline does something too.) Another time, I might hold my temper with that complete and utter idiot, or I might offer good emotional support, or some sudden insight... but the minute I think I'm really doing well, that it's my contribution that's making the most difference, I'm kidding myself.

Still lots to learn and grow into!