Sunday, 29 January 2017

Rights and Responsibilities: 2017 Edition

Protestors gather at JFK Airport after Donald Trump's executive order, 28 January 2017. Picture: Getty
A few months ago, before the election result which none of us expected but really should have, I wrote a post about how Donald Trump inspired me as a CSPE and History teacher - not because I admire him, but because the incendiary and offensive comments he was making about whole swathes of people should inspire every teacher of history and civics to speak out.

Then he became President of the United States. Reading back over that post now I'm struck by how self-assured I was as I derided him. Like so many others, I thought there was no way this man could actually succeed, so I could afford to be ironic and dismissive about him. Like so many others, I was wrong, and I still feel silly about that self-assurance. Now, just over a week into his presidency, his words and actions only reaffirm to me that yes, we do have a responsibility to speak out. No dismissiveness, no jokes. Just a responsibility.

Of course, teachers are individuals with their own differing beliefs and opinions, and that's perfectly fine. Some current events, however, go beyond politics. To anyone who thinks it's overstepping the mark for a teacher to actively speak out like this, I'll ask you one question:

Could you stand in front of a class full of young people and justify Donald Trump's ban on people entering the United States because of their nationality?

As CSPE teachers we explain to young people the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child. I'd like to share a few articles from them.

UDHR Article 1
All human beings are born free and equal in dignity and rights. They are endowed with reason and conscience and should act towards one another in a spirit of brotherhood.

UDHR Article 9
No one shall be subjected to arbitrary arrest, detention or exile.


UDHR Article 13
(1) Everyone has the right to freedom of movement and residence within the borders of each state.
(2) Everyone has the right to leave any country, including his own, and to return to his country.


UDHR Article 14
(1) Everyone has the right to seek and to enjoy in other countries asylum from persecution.
(2) This right may not be invoked in the case of prosecutions genuinely arising from non-political crimes or from acts contrary to the purposes and principles of the United Nations.

UNCRC Article 9.1
States Parties shall ensure that a child shall not be separated from his or her parents against their will, except when competent authorities subject to judicial review determine, in accordance with applicable law and procedures, that such separation is necessary for the best interests
of the child.

The UNCRC, of course, has been ratified in every country of the world except the United States.

We teach our young people that discrimination is wrong, whether we're teaching about human rights, reading from the Diary of Anne Frank, listening to Martin Luther King's "I Have A Dream" speech, or dealing with an instance of bullying in our schools. When introducing the UDHR in 1948, former US First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt asked and answered an important question:

“Where, after all, do universal human rights begin? In small places, close to home - so close and so small that they cannot be seen on any maps of the world. Yet they are the world of the individual person; the neighborhood he lives in; the school or college he attends; the factory, farm, or office where he works. Such are the places where every man, woman, and child seeks equal justice, equal opportunity, equal dignity without discrimination. Unless these rights have meaning there, they have little meaning anywhere. Without concerted citizen action to uphold them close to home, we shall look in vain for progress in the larger world.” 

I ended my previous post by saying that Trump had given us a lot of work to do. Let's get to it.

Sunday, 4 December 2016

Reflections near the end of the first term, 2016/17

This year I’ll blog more.
It’s coming up to that annual point in time where people make promises to themselves that they don’t always keep. For teachers, though, New Year’s Day falls somewhere between the end of August and the beginning of September. It’s when we think about things we’re going to do differently, things we’re going to try, and how we’re going to be better than last year… and then the same level of work, busyness and tiredness kicks in as before and we settle for something less than our initial heady ideas. At least, that’s my experience. I decided on two things this year – that I would make more resources of my own, for it’s become a new favourite hobby of mine (make of me what you will from that) and that I would tend to both the History Help site and the blog a bit more. Like, say, once a week. I’ve largely kept to the former idea. As for the latter, you need only a quick scroll down to see how that turned out.

Teaching can be a very busy, very time consuming job. And that’s on a good day. Not that I’m complaining, the work that goes in to teaching pays off when you realise that people are actually learning from you. But of course, it can mean that some things get pushed to the side for a duration of at least a week to half a year. Like maintaining a blog. I’ll freely admit that History Help arose in the first place partly from an unwillingness to disassociate free time from an opportunity to produce something for teaching. In the few years that have passed, with a bit more experience, I’ve gladly learned my lesson to take free time to be free time.

Having said all that, I find the writing process quite helpful when it comes to untangling thoughts, so here we are and here I’ll be as regularly as I can writing about the things I think about being a teacher.

Does it ever get boring?
This is something that some people think about being a teacher. Lately a few students have asked me questions along this line, particularly on days where I’ve taught the same topic to several different groups in one day. Of course, it can be a bit boring at times. There are days when, like any other human, I would much rather be at home doing very little. Those days, though, are few and far between. Whether a day ends up dull or stressful, just teaching a lesson always cheers me up. I love my subjects, and I love explaining the various topics contained therein. I love answering questions, no matter how left-field they might be sometimes. I love talking about the world and why it is the way it is – though recently I’ve had to follow my own advice to students and remain focused…

Teaching Trump
I remember sitting in my First Year Science class one day, as our teacher sat down and solemnly explained the then burgeoning foot and mouth disease outbreak to us, and how it could mean the end of the Celtic Tiger economy (he was just a few years off).  A year later, we spent entire CSPE classes going over the 9/11 attacks, collectively trying to understand what it was all going to mean. There are moments when history unfurls before our eyes, and all of a sudden it doesn’t seem as important to know about the reasons why Ferdinand and Isabella sponsored Columbus’ voyage and it does to understand why a world-changing moment is taking place right in front of us.

My previous post on how Donald Trump’s inflammatory behaviour offered teachers an opportunity to educate carried many of the same faults shared by an awful lot of what was written about him in the weeks and months before the election. It carried a sense of disdain and a firm belief that no, of course this man could never actually win… and then he did. While I believe that it’s best to maintain a position of neutrality when discussing controversial or current topics with students, I couldn’t abide by such a position this time around. Trump’s comments on various groups of people required more from those who work with young people than simple neutrality. I believed that then and I still believe it now, and I won’t pretend I was anything other than horrified at the result on 9 November.

But here we are. This is the world we’re in and while 2016 might not be many people’s favourite year for a jarring array of reasons we can’t simply resign ourselves to living in some kind of nightmare. Whatever we think of Trump’s victory, or Brexit, or our own government’s woeful inaction when it comes to solving inequalities in our society, or any of the other million and one things that cause problems, discord and confusion in our world, we still have to go on and we have to do so with hope that no matter what happens, there will always be things to look forward to. I can’t stress enough the importance of a good political and civic education. In the days after the election I answered every and any question students had about Trump with a discussion about how he was elected, what it means, and whether or not he might actually do some good at all. I had to stop after a while because students had picked up on the fact that merely mentioning his name was enough to divert me from the lesson at hand. Still, history is history.

Five Years
Reflecting brings one thing into focus. It’s been five years since I began teaching, and it really doesn’t feel like it at all (though the message has been brought home quite well more than once as I end up encountering students I taught in First and Second Year in 2011 who now go to college and tower over me in height). I’ve learned a lot in those five years. I think back at some particularly green moments I had in my PDE year with a little embarrassment, but also relief that I’ve learned from it and can handle situations better as a result. At the same time, I feel like I still have so much to learn.

I’m a different teacher than I was when I was 25. I hope to be a different teacher again at 32. It’s the kind of job that can never really stay the same, no matter how many times you teach the same topic. It just keeps evolving, as we have to respond to new changes and pressures from the outside and our own reflections on the inside. It’s the kind of job where we have to keep going and help our students to make sense of the world they’re about to enter into as adults, and the kind of job where we have to remember to stop every now and then for ourselves. It’s the kind of job that might have dull days here and there but never ceases being interesting. It’s the kind of job I always wanted, and even though the last few weeks have been hectic to say the least, it’s the kind of job I love, standing in front of a group and explaining something. And it’s so much more than just that, too.

Tuesday, 11 October 2016

What Donald Trump Means For Our Teaching

US Republican presidential candidate Donald Trump. Photo:
Oh, what a time we live in. Reeling in the Years is going to have to do an hour long special when they reach 2016, such is the speed at which our world seems to be changing these days. Brexit led to a circus of absolute confusion and uncertainty, the Olympics took place under an ever-darkening cloud of controversy, we've commemorated a century of the republic with a political deadlock, technology is marching on at a pace faster than you're reading this sentence, and over in America a man who has demonised entire groups of people and made abhorrent comments about women is running for President. Is it any wonder that so many people have sought escape as virtual Pokemon trainers?

For teachers, the state of things presents a challenge - how do we keep our subjects and our methods relevant in a world that changes constantly? I think about this challenge a lot, but recent events have had me really set to work on it. For CSPE teachers this challenge is one that has always existed anyway - our once-a-week, vaguely defined subject tends to get a bit of a poor reputation, and it can be hard to make it seem engaging and relevant to the students we teach. There have been times when I cursed the fact that it's my second subject. However, it really is hugely important, and the man I mentioned above has reminded me why.

Donald J. Trump has inspired me as a teacher. No one has done more than he has to spark people's interests in current events. He's been utterly brilliant at making people realise how important it is to know about the world we live in. You don't see an inflammatory, aggressive, wildly misogynistic and so-very-unsuitable man get so close to becoming US President and not want to know the answers to questions like "What would it mean if he was elected?", "How does he get away with saying these things?" and "How did he manage to become the candidate in the first place?"

Now, there are actually very serious answers to those questions. The rise of Trump, like the surprise Brexit result in June or the surge in support for people on the other side of the spectrum such as Bernie Sanders and Jeremy Corbyn, is largely down to people's massive disillusionment with politics and politicians. The failure of leaders, governments and parliaments around the world to listen to and address the uncertainty people have felt since the recession - and there has been so, so much of it - has created a vacuum. On the one hand, that vacuum can be filled by communities organising, working together and campaigning for the issues that matter to people. On the other hand, it can be filled by a loud, self-confident "strong" leader who claims to have all the answers, and history is full of examples of what happens when people like that get the power and influence they crave.

Donald Trump inspires me because he makes people ask questions and think about things. He inspires me because he's a reminder of what can happen when we have blind faith in what prominent people tell us. He inspires me because he inadvertently makes it very clear that only a decent civic and political education can help us to avoid letting our young people fall - whether as victims or perpetrators - into the mire of discrimination, vilification and dehumanisation that's unfortunately increasingly present in western society. So, thank you Donald, you’ve given us a lot of a work to do.

Friday, 22 July 2016

Pokémon Go-See-Our-Monuments

Back in the day, I was a big fan of Pokémon. I couldn't tell you how many hours I spent glued to my GameBoy. It's a phenomenon that's never really died out - almost two decades later my brother spends an equal amount of time glued to his Ninento DS. Now the phenomenon has practically restarted itself with this Pokémon Go app, which allows you to catch Pokémon in "the real world", so to speak. As much as I enjoyed the older games, I can't say I feel compelled to download it and start playing, but I've been reading with interest about the many different incidents that have happened because of the game. Some ridiculous, like people walking into trees because they were too busy looking at their phone, others more serious, such as reports that some people have used the app to facilitate burglaries.

The story which caught my attention the most was on the front page of yesterday's Evening Echo. The game operates by marking local landmarks as hubs. Cork City councillor Kieran McCarthy criticised as "inappropriate" the use of local monuments in this fashion. Quoted in the Echo, Cllr. McCarthy said "It isn't exactly showing respect. There's quite a bit of tragedy surrounding these two monuments and having these colourful creatures on your phone is not appropriate". For anyone unfamiliar with him, Kieran McCarthy is steeped in Cork history, and if you're in or near the city, I highly recommend his walking tour. While I see what he means about the cross between the serious nature of these memorials and the frivolity of the game, I disagree that it's altogether a bad thing.

Too many of our monuments are just walked past, ignored or not even noticed. As I write this I'm sitting on a bench across from the National Monument on Grand Parade and near to the Cenotaph and the Hiroshima and Nagasaki memorial. People walk past them without paying them any attention - in the case of the Hiroshima and Nagasaki memorial, it's so small most people don't even register it.

It's not as if these are the only monuments in Cork, either. The city is littered with monuments, memorials, plaques and signs that herald back to some moment in history. I've lived here all my life and I still come across new ones I hadn't noticed before. No, it's not entirely appropriate for a memorial to people who gave their lives for Irish independence, or victims of a devastating attack, or casualties of war to also be the place where you can catch a Chansey, but I don't think that's what we should be focusing on. My first reaction when I read that story yesterday was to think it was great news - if the game is using monuments as hubs, surely it's brilliant that people are therefore being drawn to them? Sure, like the people who walk into trees, some players won't look up from their phone long enough to learn anything about the monument, but others will. They'll notice the monuments we have, they'll notice what they're about, and they might even notice how there are so very many.

Let's not just condemn this development because it seems frivolous, let's celebrate the fact that our monuments are being used as meeting points, that they'll be noticed and that their meaning will be imparted to, I hope, very many people. After all, history can seem a distant and inaccessible thing too much of the time. The more different and dynamic ways we can find to share it, the better.

Saturday, 25 June 2016

Our Example

The Rumour
Earlier this year, while the world was still reeling from the attacks in Paris and Brussels, I was asked about a rumour which some people had seen flying around on Facebook. "Don't go to the Patrick's Day parade in town", a Middle Eastern woman supposedly said, "Stay out if you want to live." Would Isis attack Cork? Over the course of that week I heard that several variations of that rumour were being shared online, but of course it died down once March 17th passed and nothing happened. Not that it ever would have.

Things like this can seem silly and trivial to us, but what about when you consider the impact of social media on young people? I could make up a story where someone told me there would be an incident in town tomorrow afternoon, get my friends and their friends to share it, and before long there's a new rumour making the rounds. I don't for one second blame young people for getting caught up in this, they're still learning about the world. But what they learn about it comes from what they observe, and young people today are exposed to an enormous range of opinion which is at best anti-migrant and anti-immigration and at worst just plan xenophobic and racist – why else was the woman in that rumour Middle Eastern?

The Language
Take the Brexit. Nigel Farage, leader of the Pro-Leave United Kingdom Independence Party (UKIP), last week unveiled a poster showing a long queue of migrants waiting outside the border of Slovenia last year, with the large, sensational caption "Breaking Point". The poster was condemned by politicians and media outlets from all sides as being flagrantly racist, and it was reported to the police for the same reason. It's been pointed out that the poster and its message look very similar to Nazi propaganda from the 1930s.

Farage stood by it, and he's not the only one. Anti-immigrant language in the UK has become louder and louder over the entire Brexit campaign. Meanwhile, in the US, presidential candidate Donald Trump has made loud headlines for his calls to ban Muslims from entering the US and to build a wall on the border with Mexico.

The Feeling
The rise in anti-immigrant feeling is what gives way to rumours like the one above, and what allows people like Farage and Trump to gain support. A picture is built up of an “Us vs. Them” scenario where our very way of life is under threat. Thankfully, our own politicians haven’t quite jumped on this bandwagon but the sentiment still lurks. Last September, the Government committed to taking in 4,000 Syrian refugees. As the general election drew near, polls and surveys revealed that two thirds of Irish people were against this commitment, believing it to be too high and almost half believing it would lead to an increase in crime.

Let’s put that into perspective. According to the CSO’s most recent Population and Migration estimates, there are a little over 4.6 million people living in the Republic of Ireland today. As a percentage, 4,000 refugees would make up 0.09% of that population. Not even 1%. Not even 0.1%. We can manage that, surely?

The Future
With the world the way it is, the plight of displaced people isn’t going to simply vanish. Of course, like anything a government does, immigration is something that needs a healthy discussion, with various sides of the debate taken into account. But please let’s not allow an “Us vs. Them” mentality to develop here. If it takes root, as it is in Britain and other parts of Europe, we will be teaching our children and young people that it’s okay to discriminate, it’s okay to dehumanise, and it’s okay to reject those who are less fortunate than us. I don’t believe for a second that that’s Ireland’s future, so let’s make sure it isn’t.