Patronizing minority parents, discounting their identities while mainstreaming them into Americana via 鈥榩arent institutes鈥� and bake sales, will fail our students.
I loathe lock-step rituals. Arms crossed, my back ramrod straight, I endure the obligatory, beginning-of-the-year open house that all 鈥済ood鈥� parents must attend. To no avail, I try my best to fit in, try my best to disguise my identity, try my best to pass as someone I鈥檓 not. I鈥檝e selected my wardrobe with precision, in hopes that my attire is conservative enough to avoid attracting attention. I nod at what appear to be the appropriate times鈥攚hen other parents nod鈥攁nd mimic their disapproving looks when they seem disgruntled. Bristling, I give myself away, though, when someone I鈥檒l call Supermom suggests weekly 鈥減arent trainings.鈥� Evidently, she is speaking about me. And I have no intention of being 鈥渢rained.鈥� Not comprehending the canned curriculum my 7-year-old daughter is supposed to 鈥渕aster鈥� this year, I鈥檓 sure the canned question is aimed at me: 鈥淒o you have any concerns about meeting your daughter鈥檚 educational needs?鈥� Dumbstruck, my facade fades. And, having no idea what to ask, I mumble something stupid about how they鈥檝e taken care of everything.
After leaving, I realize I will not attend any parent-teacher conferences this year. Nor will I volunteer. Not because I am apathetic about my daughter鈥檚 education, the common misperception when parents are absent from school functions, but because I feel inadequate to the task.
Later, in the privacy of our home, I read our daughter鈥檚 final report card from last year. 鈥淎lthough your daughter is sweet and enthusiastic, she has failed to learn the Hebrew alphabet and only recognizes a few sight words. Furthermore, she doesn鈥檛 understand the major Jewish holidays.鈥� Again I鈥檓 reminded that my attempts at portraying a cultural chameleon have failed miserably. As a minority parent within the temple, I鈥檓 unable to straddle two disparate worlds, agnosticism and Judaism, with any success. Nor can I combine the two without compromising either one. Obviously, I lack both the skills and desire necessary to reinforce our daughter鈥檚 religious education. And because I am a public school teacher who, until recently, has been working on graduate studies, I have not had the luxury of time to remediate our daughter鈥檚 religious training, let alone my own. As Supermom once said to me, 鈥淥h, that鈥檚 right; you work.鈥�
My husband is Jewish, so we agreed to raise our daughter in the Jewish faith. Having grown up in rural Alabama, however, he, too, missed the necessary religious education to assist with her Hebrew lessons. Without expertise in Judaic language and culture, we are unable to reinforce her religious education. Our daughter, in all likelihood, will forever lag behind her classmates.
If one views education as a competition (which many do), our daughter did not begin at the starting line along with her friends. She began a full lap behind. And for her to catch up, she鈥檒l have to work much harder than her peers, whose families are steeped in Judaic tradition. Without her father鈥檚 or my help, it will be nearly impossible for her to achieve full competence in her Judaic studies. Moreover, others will predict her, as the victim of low expectations, to perform poorly, further aggravating the problem. The accusation-disguised-as-question cuts to the quick: 鈥淚s she reading (in English) yet?鈥� Obviously, she has been labeled a slow student. Attending religious school only twice a week, however, our daughter is, in fact, a product of public education, reading in English far above her grade level and excelling in math. So the disparity between her attainment in religious school and public school is glaring. Failing to recognize the home-school culture clash can, it would seem in our case, have deleterious effects. How often does such ignorance of minority students鈥� true abilities鈥攁nd their parents鈥� true intentions鈥攔esult in lowered expectations and achievement?
Sadly, in public education, confusing diversity with deficiency is commonplace. Too busy kowtowing to Curriculum, my colleagues and I often misjudge our students because we haven鈥檛 learned how they straddle two disparate worlds. Admittedly, in comparison to my students鈥� parents, my discomfort when attending religious school meetings is merely an inconvenience. They must endure the struggle to assimilate daily. Fortunately for our daughter, academic and social success is not predicated in our state on knowing Hebrew. My students, though, are not so fortunate. Their success is dependent on learning academic English.
As a public school educator in southern New Mexico, I鈥檓 reminded daily of the struggles of many minority students, poor and speaking Spanish in an alien culture. They, too, attend school with little help from parents. But their parents鈥� seeming negligence isn鈥檛 caused by apathy, as many teachers assume. Often our students鈥� families need the academic education necessary to assist their children with studying. Even when they are well educated in their native language, they are likely to work multiple jobs at odd hours to provide for their families. Yet their realities remain disregarded. When parents miss school conferences, thoughtlessly scheduled during workdays, my colleagues complain that they 鈥渏ust don鈥檛 care.鈥� In fact, nothing could be further from the truth. In some cases, they have already risked life and limb to secure a solid education for their children.
As a public school educator in southern New Mexico, I鈥檓 reminded daily of the struggles of many minority students, poor and speaking Spanish in an alien culture.
Unlike me, these parents do not have the luxury of coordinating their expensive wardrobes, deciding between Liz Claiborne or Calvin Klein, hoping to integrate unnoticed. And, unlike me, a veteran teacher with plenty of connections, adept at maneuvering through an educational labyrinth, they are unfamiliar with the bureaucracy that can impede or enhance a child鈥檚 success in school. If I am intimidated by an unknown culture, how must they feel?
As Sonia Nieto states in Affirming Diversity, parents from many Latin American countries generally trust teachers. Unaccustomed to advocating for their children, they do not question educators鈥� authority. Doing so would show disrespect. Furthermore, Nieto cautions that once immigrant children become more English-fluent than their parents, and are elevated to 鈥渙fficial family translators,鈥� their parents often relinquish control to the children. Many students also work to help sustain the family鈥檚 income. As such, it is reasonable for minority parents to assume that their children are accountable for their education. With children taking on additional responsibility both in and outside the home, parents may feel unneeded or unwanted at school. Resigned to their subordinated status, they feel paralysis set in, making parental involvement difficult to accomplish.
It is insufficient to chant our well-intentioned but misguided mantra like bobbleheads: YOU MUST WORK HARDER! YOU MUST MAKE BETTER CHOICES! Patronizing parents, discounting their identities while mainstreaming them into Americana via 鈥減arent institutes鈥� and bake sales, will fail our students.
Viewing education from an ethnocentric standpoint, insisting that parents are impervious to cultural, psychological, and sociological factors, will also fail our students. And implanting information inside their heads that contradicts rather than complements their culture only creates dysfunctional families, and, in turn, dysfunctional communities. It is our obligation, instead, to foster empowering relationships within households. Anything less undermines the family unit. Anything less undermines our success as educators.
In his autobiography Hunger of Memory, Richard Rodriguez writes poignantly about his assimilation into American society. A son of immigrant parents, he describes himself as a 鈥渟cholarship boy,鈥� excelling in school, graduating from Stanford and Columbia, then going to Berkeley. His academic success, however, was not without a price. As an elementary student regressing in Spanish as he progressed in English, he was unable to communicate his love of learning to his parents. With them powerless to appreciate their son鈥檚 thoughts and words, silence dominated the dinner table. Conversations became shallow; a cultural chasm enveloped the home.
There are countless reasons why parents are absent from school functions. To assume it is because they don鈥檛 care destroys and demoralizes teachers, students, and families alike.
In college, Rodriguez reflects, 鈥淲hat could I tell them of the term paper I had just finished on the 鈥榰niversality of Shakespeare鈥檚 appeal鈥�?鈥� Clearly, he could tell them nothing. Lost long ago to Dante and Descartes, he no longer spoke his parents鈥� language, no longer shared their ideals. His metamorphosis was complete.
Perhaps that is why I will not attend events at our daughter鈥檚 religious school this year鈥攊t is too painful watching her grow distant from me. About a year ago, I told her that I wasn鈥檛 Jewish. She began to cry, and for the first time I felt a rift between us. I know her continued religious training will only widen the gulf if I do not embark on her educational journey with her. This is, after all, what education does, regardless of language or culture. It changes people. But the question remains: What am I willing to change, to sacrifice, in order to sustain our relationship?
There are countless reasons why parents are absent from school functions. To assume it is because they don鈥檛 care destroys and demoralizes teachers, students, and families alike. But perhaps the ultimate reason why many parents avoid school is that, having little in common with their children, they have no reason to attend. After all, their children have become strangers. Strangers in a strange land. Wedged between wanting the best for their kids, and yet being incapable of appreciating their transformation, parents can no longer participate in their children鈥檚 lives. They cannot bear to watch their families drift apart. They cannot bear to witness their children grow up.
I know. I am one of those parents.
