Education Week - May 6, 2015 - 27

NATIVE PERSPECTIVE:
Cartoonist Ricardo Caté
(Santo Domingo Pueblo)
depicts the American
Horse School students
before and after their
attendance at a
minor-league hockey
game on Jan. 24, in Rapid
City, S.D. The cartoon
was published in The
Sante Fe New Mexican in
Mr. Caté's regular comic
strip for the paper.
© Ricardo N. Caté
Reprinted with permission
trial in June, according to the Rapid
City's attorney's office. School leaders
also reached out to federal authorities
to investigate the incident
as a hate crime.
When I reflect on what these students
endured, I revert to thoughts
of racism and prejudice that cloud
my childhood memories. My grandparents
and parents often recounted
the cruelty, oppression, and forced
assimilation they experienced growing
up in South Dakota, from my
grandfather being forced off his land
on the reservation during World
War II, to my mother being told not
to sit at the counter of a coffee shop
in Rapid City.
Unfortunately, my experiences as
a young person weren't much different.
We moved from Pine Ridge
to a small town outside Rapid City
where we were the only American
Indian family for many years.
Names like "squaws," "tipi creepers,"
and "dirty Indian" drowned out positive
affirmations and words of hope.
My older brothers and sisters were
bullied and picked on every day-hit
with rocks and sticks as they walked
home, and chased and roped by
neighbors on horseback.
We grew up fighting against bigotry
and injustice in our homeland.
We were told to "go back to the reservation,"
just as the children of
American Horse School allegedly
were. We were unwelcome guests
on the very land our ancestors
hold sacred.
As a child, I felt alone and embarrassed.
I would come home crying
from hurt and anger. But my
mom would never allow me to turn
my back on who I was and where
I came from. Instead, she challenged
my siblings and me to rise
beyond the perils of hate and use
our education to help combat these
wrongs. But the frightening reality
remains that the tears of pain
and anguish I once cried still run
down the faces of Native American
students today.
My heart aches. My soul cries.
And the tears from my childhood
run deep. I used to believe
that time could heal the deepest
wound. But the wounds of
oppression and hatred have yet
to heal. The same pain of racial
dominance and harassment my
grandparents and parents experienced
was present for those
children in that arena.
Investigations and apologies
aren't enough to heal these
wounds. Racism and oppression
have remained invisible for far
too long. With more than 5,000
people in attendance at the civic
center, these students and their
chaperones alone were forced to
endure humiliation and shame.
The torment these students
faced must serve as a call to action
beyond the city limits of Rapid
City. Everyone in this nation and
throughout the world can use
media, social networks, and technology
to raise awareness and
bring incidents of racism to the
forefront of America's consciousness.
We must ensure that all kids
feel respected and affirmed in this
country, and are taught to embrace
diversity and tolerance so history
will no longer be repeated. It's not
just an American Horse School
issue, it's an American issue.
The future of our Native American
communities, and our country,
depends on our resolve. n
ROBERT COOK (Oglala Lakota) is the
director of Teach For America's Native
Alliance Initiative, where he works in
partnership with tribal communities in
Hawaii, New Mexico, Oklahoma, and
South Dakota to improve outcomes
for Native students. He resides in
Summerset, S.D., and is a former K-12
administrator, an award-winning teacher,
and a board member of the National
Indian Education Association.
seemingly to appear current; how we rename strategies; and
how we invent language when it isn't necessary.
Here is a list of terms and phrases I hear education professionals
use frequently during meetings and conversations:
"unpack the standards," "have a conversation around," "powerful
conversation," "learner-centered teaching classrooms,"
"two-dimensional curriculum," "deeper dive," "performancebased
assessment," "authentic performance assessment,"
"rich conversation," "21st-century skills," "by name and by
need," "competency-based learning and personalized learning,"
"messy learning," and "building capacity."
I am sure those using these phrases have the best intentions
and want to communicate important information. I am
equally sure they would be more effective if they used different
language. Are students learners or teachers in "learnercentered
teaching" classrooms? What is a "powerful conversation"?
Is it different from a "rich conversation"? Does "have a
conversation around" mean to discuss? Recently, a friend told
me he'd spent "all morning helping teachers unpack standards
so they understood what students should know and
be able to do." I wanted to ask whether or not the suitcase
had wheels. To quote the colleague whom I mentioned earlier,
"Why don't we just say what we mean?"
Teaching and learning are complex processes, and I see no
reason to overwhelm parents, students, or each other with
an array of terms because we want to sound impressive, or
because someone has written a book and we want to appear
current. In fact, we are deluding ourselves if we believe practitioners
internalize this language. Why would they? Experience
has or will teach them that unless we change, these
terms and phrases will be replaced with equally vague and
fleeting ones.
Martin Kozloff of the University of North Carolina at Wilmington
considers this language "unmatched twaddle." John
Merrow, the author of The Influence of Teachers, refers to it as
"educationese." Perhaps it is an attempt to elevate education
among professions, for having a unique language is one indicator
of a profession's status. Nonetheless, if one's message
isn't clear, shouldn't one rethink the delivery?
I recently read that the University of Washington's faculty
identifies six characteristics of effective language. "Effective
language is (1) concrete and specific, not vague and abstract;
(2) concise, not verbose; (3) familiar, not obscure; (4) precise
and clear, not inaccurate and ambiguous; (5) constructive, not
destructive; and (6) appropriately formal." By this definition,
I'm not sure any of the items I listed before meet the standard
of effective communication.
Perhaps readers have heard about the conversation between
an elementary-grade student and his mother after the
first day of school. It goes like this:
When the mother asked her son how the day had gone, he
didn't reply. The mother drove in silence but later asked, "Do
we need to pick up anything for tomorrow?"
The child shrugged. "We should go by the grocery store."
"OK," the mother answered. "Is there something special
you need?"
"I need fruit," the boy said.
The mother was a bit confused, as she had just purchased
fruit the day before.
"We have fruit at home," she said, trying to sound supportive.
"I know," the child responded, "but we need more. The
teacher said we'd 'pair share,' 'mix pair share,' and 'pair compare'
this year, so I need pears."
"You're going to do what?" the confused mother managed.
"Oh yeah," the boy continued, ignoring her question. "She
said we'll 'draw chips,' 'choose chips,' and 'drop chips' this year
too, so we should buy some. Can we get the kind with ridges?"
Before the mother could compose herself, the child, now
fully animated, continued.
"Know what, Mom?" he asked. "I'm looking forward to the
days we 'roam the room.' "
"Roam the room?" the mother wondered.
"And I hope Matt's my partner when we 'people hunt.' "
Now, this isn't really a true story, but I include it to demonstrate
the type of misunderstanding that could result
when our language is misunderstood. Let's not burden our
colleagues, confuse students, or send parents to the grocery
store needlessly. Instead, let's heed Molière's advice: "Humanize
your talk, and speak to be understood." n
LEVI FOLLY coordinates the academic and enrichment summerlearning
programs in the Fairfax County, Va., public schools. He taught
middle school and high school English for more than 20 years in
central and northern Virginia.
EDUCATION WEEK | May 6, 2015 | www.edweek.org/go/commentary | 27
http://www.edweek.org/go/commentary
Education Week - May 6, 2015

Table of Contents for the Digital Edition of Education Week - May 6, 2015
