Argument
After reading the first five chapters of The Shame of the Nation by Jonathan Kozol, it has become very clear to me what his argument is. His purpose in writing this nonfiction work is to reveal the extraordinarily unfair disparity in education between white and black students, particularly in inner-city public schools. To portray this argument, the author combines all three rhetorical appeals: ethos, logos, and pathos. To build credibility with his readers, Kozol shares personal stories and memories from the abundance of time that he spent within inner-city schools, talking with current students there and gathering information. These anecdotes also appeal to pathos, specifically, feelings of sympathy for the students, and slight guilt. He also involves logos, using poignant statistics about apartheid education, most of which he also collected throughout his time in the various schools.
In the third chapter, Kozol focuses his lens on the rigid, robot-like instruction of the students by their teachers, which they are trained to do through general state education guidelines and requirements. Many of the lessons taught by these teachers, almost all of whom are underqualified, are not even related to expected subjects like math, reading, and writing, but more obedience-based skills. For example, Kozol observed that there was equal, or even slightly more, attention given to meaningless practices like walking in a line down the hallway: " 'Line leader confidently leads the class... Line is straight... Spacing is tight... The class is stepping together... Everyone shows pride, their shoulders high..., no slumping,' according to the strict criteria for filing at Level Four" (Kozol). The Level Four that he refers to is the highest of four categories of criteria that are applied to every subject and learning objective in many of these inner-city schools, another way that the students are being mistreated.
This idea develops Kozol's argument because he is displaying, with evidence, how minority, inner-city students are simply being organized and instructed based on their accordance with curriculum requirements, rather than their individual personalities, abilities, and strengths. The author is conveying that as opposed to the majority of well-funded, suburban schools with predominantly white populations, where each student is made to feel valued by their teachers, the kids in the schools he observed are all taught generally, with little care as to how different students learn.
The target of the novel's fourth chapter continues this trend, but shifts to address how a large part of the curriculum in inner-city apartheid schools is aimed at training their students to be functioning members of America's workforce, rather than giving them an adequate, let alone good, learning experience. In several of the elementary schools that Kozol observed, every child in every classroom was the "manager" of something, from Pencil Sharpener Manager to Homework Manager to Paper-Collecting Manager, among other titles. When he questioned the principal about this controversial learning style, he was met with, " 'We want every child to be working as a manager while he or she is in this school... companies will give you opportunities to work, to prove yourself, no matter what you've done... Even if you have a felony arrest... you can be a manager someday' " (Kozol). In other words, the principal is insinuating that rather than giving the children education that could lead them to a higher-up job, they are most likely to be employed as managers, or other jobs of the same level, and therefore should be trained as such.
Chapter Five, titled "The Road to Rome," criticizes the absurd amount of standardized testing that these minority pupils are subjected to, and the rest of their education is centered around. In the chapter, Kozol relies heavily on his appeals to pathos by describing the behavior of the students when forced to take these tests for hours on end. "One of her students was 'throwing up and crying, so she couldn't take her test, because she was afraid she'd never be allowed to leave the school because she'd never pass the state exam' " (Kozol). As a student that has participated in multiple different state standardized tests, I have never been so anxious about it that I have vomited, cried, or peed my pants (like another student Kozol observed), because I received a high-quality education that prepared me for the testing. The author was enraged by this, and I share his views that students, some as young as four, should not have their school experience that is solely decided by test requirements.
Overall, I completely share the author's argument and supporting views that apartheid schooling is still very present in the United States, despite efforts to cover it up. Reading The Shame of the Nation has inspired feelings of anger within me, and I want to take action to improve the education and lives of these students that are no different than me.
In the third chapter, Kozol focuses his lens on the rigid, robot-like instruction of the students by their teachers, which they are trained to do through general state education guidelines and requirements. Many of the lessons taught by these teachers, almost all of whom are underqualified, are not even related to expected subjects like math, reading, and writing, but more obedience-based skills. For example, Kozol observed that there was equal, or even slightly more, attention given to meaningless practices like walking in a line down the hallway: " 'Line leader confidently leads the class... Line is straight... Spacing is tight... The class is stepping together... Everyone shows pride, their shoulders high..., no slumping,' according to the strict criteria for filing at Level Four" (Kozol). The Level Four that he refers to is the highest of four categories of criteria that are applied to every subject and learning objective in many of these inner-city schools, another way that the students are being mistreated.
This idea develops Kozol's argument because he is displaying, with evidence, how minority, inner-city students are simply being organized and instructed based on their accordance with curriculum requirements, rather than their individual personalities, abilities, and strengths. The author is conveying that as opposed to the majority of well-funded, suburban schools with predominantly white populations, where each student is made to feel valued by their teachers, the kids in the schools he observed are all taught generally, with little care as to how different students learn.
The target of the novel's fourth chapter continues this trend, but shifts to address how a large part of the curriculum in inner-city apartheid schools is aimed at training their students to be functioning members of America's workforce, rather than giving them an adequate, let alone good, learning experience. In several of the elementary schools that Kozol observed, every child in every classroom was the "manager" of something, from Pencil Sharpener Manager to Homework Manager to Paper-Collecting Manager, among other titles. When he questioned the principal about this controversial learning style, he was met with, " 'We want every child to be working as a manager while he or she is in this school... companies will give you opportunities to work, to prove yourself, no matter what you've done... Even if you have a felony arrest... you can be a manager someday' " (Kozol). In other words, the principal is insinuating that rather than giving the children education that could lead them to a higher-up job, they are most likely to be employed as managers, or other jobs of the same level, and therefore should be trained as such.
Chapter Five, titled "The Road to Rome," criticizes the absurd amount of standardized testing that these minority pupils are subjected to, and the rest of their education is centered around. In the chapter, Kozol relies heavily on his appeals to pathos by describing the behavior of the students when forced to take these tests for hours on end. "One of her students was 'throwing up and crying, so she couldn't take her test, because she was afraid she'd never be allowed to leave the school because she'd never pass the state exam' " (Kozol). As a student that has participated in multiple different state standardized tests, I have never been so anxious about it that I have vomited, cried, or peed my pants (like another student Kozol observed), because I received a high-quality education that prepared me for the testing. The author was enraged by this, and I share his views that students, some as young as four, should not have their school experience that is solely decided by test requirements.
Overall, I completely share the author's argument and supporting views that apartheid schooling is still very present in the United States, despite efforts to cover it up. Reading The Shame of the Nation has inspired feelings of anger within me, and I want to take action to improve the education and lives of these students that are no different than me.
Lilia,
ReplyDeleteI also find myself responding to Kozol’s appeals to pathos. My trouble is, I don’t know exactly what should be done to fix the problem. In this sense, I completely relate to your feeling of anger about the problem. How would you go about taking action to improve education at our age? Or do you think reform is something that must come from adults? Personally, I feel that because a lot of these issues are rooted in funding, these issues revolve around economic systems and government money. While these things are difficult to tackle as high schoolers, I think there are things that we can do within our schools and communities to make a difference and get our voices heard. Thoughts?
You also say that these students are no different from yourself. Here, I disagree. Although we’re all people who should be given the same opportunities, I think that these students are very different people based on their past experiences. I believe that coming from different home lives and backgrounds make students very different (though no different in value). I could be completely missing the point. What did you mean?
Lilia, good use of specific details. I remember reading the section about the students being "managers" and at first wondering how it was any different from my own kids experience of being "helpers," as they have had jobs in elementary school, such as line leader and door holder. The consistency of the term "manager" and the principal's explanation of its use changed my thinking about that similarity.
ReplyDeleteI was similarly shocked by the reactions children had to standardized testing. I think that indicates, better than anything, the massive lack of preparation that children have as a result of a poor education. However, one could argue that the whole system of standardized testing is corrupt in itself. Do you think that the greater issue is lack of preparedness for standardized testing, or that we rely on it so heavily to determine how well schools are funded?
ReplyDeleteI definitely agree with your statement about the ineffectiveness of the entire standardized testing system in our country. While I do think it is important to ensure that a basic level of education is being achieved in every school, the students in inner-city schools should be receiving instruction and learning about more than just what is on the test, like we are. To address your last question, I do not believe that funding should be granted to schools based on their students' performances, because as we've seen, these inner-city schools have significantly less resources and qualified teachers than wealthier school districts.
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