Tuesday, January 17, 2006
let's play global thermonuclear war
In the world of high school English teachers, many people view ninth grade English as punishment: a place to pay your dues and do your time until you work your way up to the promised land of upperclassmen. I've always taught ninth grade English. I like it. I like the things we read. Romeo and Juliet. The Odyssey. For the most part, the same texts that I read when I was in ninth grade English. This semester, I am teaching ninth grade honors, and my students just finished reading Animal Farm . It was my first time teaching this novel. I read a lot of Orwell when I was in the ninth grade. It was 1984, and I suppose my teacher must have thought that it would be wrong to let the year go by without having us read 1984. We read Animal Farm too.
In 1984, reading Animal Farm was politically conservative. We all knew that Khrushchev had threatened to bury us, the Doomsday clock was ticking. The Soviets were the bad guys: the KGB, Stalin. We read Animal Farm and made posters comparing each animal to its Russian counterpart and then we compared the characters to Nazi Germany and we shuddered at the evil that was across the ocean, its finger on a button, waiting to play war games that would bring on nuclear winter. Ronald Reagan was president. U2 had released War the year before. It would still be a year before Sting would write about the Russians loving their children too.
Over Christmas break, I assigned my honors classes the novel. Last week, we began discussing it. I started off by asking someone to explain what communism was. Nobody raised a hand. Had anyone ever heard of the Berlin Wall?, I asked. Two hands went up. Great. "So, why was the Berlin Wall built?", I asked.
"For ....protection?", a kid guessed.
I kept fishing, "Protection from what......?"
Thirty students looked at me blankly. Finally, someone ventured a tentative hypothesis.
Invasion?
I was getting frustrated.
"You know," I told my students. "It wasn't that long ago that I was in high school." They quickly assured me that, actually, it was.
My students were all born after the collapse of the Soviet Union. They have no reference point for understanding communism. When I tried to explain it, one of them exclaimed that it sounded like a great system, because then there would not be any panhandlers.
It has been fascinating to hear my students discuss Animal Farm. They are writing papers right now, comparing a character from the novel to a historical or current political figure. I expected my students to stick to the Russian figures we have studied, or to talk about Hitler or perhaps Saddam Hussein. Instead, their comparisons have surprised me. One girl came to me after class to tell me that, she had been thinking about it, and she really thought there was a connection between Old Major and Martin Luther King Jr. Brilliant, I told her.
My students, on the whole, are much more sympathetic towards Old Major and Marx than my classmates and I were back when we read the novel during the Cold War. It has required me to do a lot of thinking on my feet, as their comments and questions have been so vastly different from the way we read the book in 1984. The communism aspect is pretty much lost on them, or it seems like a very, very good idea that was corrupted by an evil, greedy, capitalist pig. They have been quick to make modern parallels, and more often than not, their connections paint American politics is a very unfavorable light.
Last week, a student stayed for help outlining her paper. I asked who she was going to write about. Snowball, she said. Snowball, Old Major, and Boxer are my student's favorites, so I was not too surprised by her choice. I asked who she was going to compare Snowball too. Well, she said,I was thinking President Clinton.
I paused and rewound her answer in my mind. Trotsky-inspired Snowball to President Clinton?
I did what all teachers do when they are caught off guard; I stalled for time. Going to my desk, I retrieved a Venn Diagram. "If you are going to compare Clinton and Snowball, you will need to have at least three main similarities to talk about", I instructed. To be honest, I was not sure the essay was going to work. A few minutes later, I glanced over and saw her diagram rapidly filling up. Both Clinton and Snowball were likable, but the masses were easily swayed; both wanted a better life for the working class and had policies to improve their well-being; both were the subject of unfair persecution and were vilified by their political enemies.
"All right then", I said conceding her points. "It looks like that comparison is going to work."
According to my students, Napoleon is George Bush, Fox Five News is Squealer, and Bill Clinton is Snowball. The totalitarian dictatorship is America, and the dogs are in the ghetto, keeping the proletariat in line. We are being wire-tapped and lied to, and their friends and brothers and cousins are fighting a war to make Napoleon and his piggy comrades rich and powerful.
"Why did we go to war?", they ask. They were only in fifth grade when the twin towers were hit. The order of events is fuzzy with the change from child to teenager, and feels a lifetime away. "At the time", I say, "the president said there were weapons of mass destruction in Iraq."
"Yeah, but what did that have to do with 9-11?". They want to know. They are not being snotty, or self-righteous. They wait for an answer, honestly thinking I might have one.
"Weapons of mass destruction means things like nuclear bombs", I say. They sigh. Nuclear Bombs. Yeah, right. Whatever. As if.
As if such things even exist.
In 1984, reading Animal Farm was politically conservative. We all knew that Khrushchev had threatened to bury us, the Doomsday clock was ticking. The Soviets were the bad guys: the KGB, Stalin. We read Animal Farm and made posters comparing each animal to its Russian counterpart and then we compared the characters to Nazi Germany and we shuddered at the evil that was across the ocean, its finger on a button, waiting to play war games that would bring on nuclear winter. Ronald Reagan was president. U2 had released War the year before. It would still be a year before Sting would write about the Russians loving their children too.
Over Christmas break, I assigned my honors classes the novel. Last week, we began discussing it. I started off by asking someone to explain what communism was. Nobody raised a hand. Had anyone ever heard of the Berlin Wall?, I asked. Two hands went up. Great. "So, why was the Berlin Wall built?", I asked.
"For ....protection?", a kid guessed.
I kept fishing, "Protection from what......?"
Thirty students looked at me blankly. Finally, someone ventured a tentative hypothesis.
Invasion?
I was getting frustrated.
"You know," I told my students. "It wasn't that long ago that I was in high school." They quickly assured me that, actually, it was.
My students were all born after the collapse of the Soviet Union. They have no reference point for understanding communism. When I tried to explain it, one of them exclaimed that it sounded like a great system, because then there would not be any panhandlers.
It has been fascinating to hear my students discuss Animal Farm. They are writing papers right now, comparing a character from the novel to a historical or current political figure. I expected my students to stick to the Russian figures we have studied, or to talk about Hitler or perhaps Saddam Hussein. Instead, their comparisons have surprised me. One girl came to me after class to tell me that, she had been thinking about it, and she really thought there was a connection between Old Major and Martin Luther King Jr. Brilliant, I told her.
My students, on the whole, are much more sympathetic towards Old Major and Marx than my classmates and I were back when we read the novel during the Cold War. It has required me to do a lot of thinking on my feet, as their comments and questions have been so vastly different from the way we read the book in 1984. The communism aspect is pretty much lost on them, or it seems like a very, very good idea that was corrupted by an evil, greedy, capitalist pig. They have been quick to make modern parallels, and more often than not, their connections paint American politics is a very unfavorable light.
Last week, a student stayed for help outlining her paper. I asked who she was going to write about. Snowball, she said. Snowball, Old Major, and Boxer are my student's favorites, so I was not too surprised by her choice. I asked who she was going to compare Snowball too. Well, she said,I was thinking President Clinton.
I paused and rewound her answer in my mind. Trotsky-inspired Snowball to President Clinton?
I did what all teachers do when they are caught off guard; I stalled for time. Going to my desk, I retrieved a Venn Diagram. "If you are going to compare Clinton and Snowball, you will need to have at least three main similarities to talk about", I instructed. To be honest, I was not sure the essay was going to work. A few minutes later, I glanced over and saw her diagram rapidly filling up. Both Clinton and Snowball were likable, but the masses were easily swayed; both wanted a better life for the working class and had policies to improve their well-being; both were the subject of unfair persecution and were vilified by their political enemies.
"All right then", I said conceding her points. "It looks like that comparison is going to work."
According to my students, Napoleon is George Bush, Fox Five News is Squealer, and Bill Clinton is Snowball. The totalitarian dictatorship is America, and the dogs are in the ghetto, keeping the proletariat in line. We are being wire-tapped and lied to, and their friends and brothers and cousins are fighting a war to make Napoleon and his piggy comrades rich and powerful.
"Why did we go to war?", they ask. They were only in fifth grade when the twin towers were hit. The order of events is fuzzy with the change from child to teenager, and feels a lifetime away. "At the time", I say, "the president said there were weapons of mass destruction in Iraq."
"Yeah, but what did that have to do with 9-11?". They want to know. They are not being snotty, or self-righteous. They wait for an answer, honestly thinking I might have one.
"Weapons of mass destruction means things like nuclear bombs", I say. They sigh. Nuclear Bombs. Yeah, right. Whatever. As if.
As if such things even exist.
