by Jessica Lahey
The “stuff to be read when I have time” pile perched on top of my filing cabinet had become a public health hazard; it was time to catch up on my reading. I grabbed a handful of unread journals and headed over to one place where students could not find me – the basement faculty room. I settled in with my lunch and opened the journal on top of the pile to the table of contents, and hey! Lookee there! An article on teaching Great Expectations – I teach Great Expectations, I adore Great Expectations, in fact. A few minutes away from student questions, a sublime sandwich of leftover venison and an article on Great Expectations makes for just about the perfect lunch. I happily tucked in to the sandwich and the article, highlighter in hand, ready to pick up some pearls of wisdom from one of my esteemed English-teacher colleagues.
“Long before The Hills’ Spencer and Heidi became “Speidi” and The Bachelor began handing out roses, Charles Dickens was populating his novels with memorable characters perfectly suited for today’s reality-TV generation.”
No. Please, no. Please tell me this isn’t going where I think it’s going.
“When his readers first meet Miss Havisham, Dickens shares Pip’s impressions: ‘In an arm-chair, with an elbow resting on the table and her head leaning on that hand, sat the strangest lady I have ever seen, or shall ever see.’ (Sounds like he’s describing half the cast of The Real Housewives of New Jersey!) As readers quickly learn, Miss Havisham has plans for Pip – and for Estella. From the moment he sees her, Pip is smitten with Estella, beginning the on-again-mostly-off-again romance of “Pipella.” And Satis House contains even more secrets than the Big Brother home. In the rest of the novel, students learn to “expect the unexpected” as they wonder whether this “bachelorette” will ever present Pip with a rose – and whether they will witness the ‘most dramatic rose ceremony ever.’”
Oh, good Lord. It’s like a car crash, and I can’t look away.
This is not a quote from People Magazine. I’m not reading Us Weekly with my sandwich. This quote is from an article published in The English Journal, the flagship journals of the National Council of Teachers of English. The professional journal of record for English teachers. The article, about one English teacher’s revolutionary and apparently newsworthy discovery about teaching Great Expectations as if it were a reality television show comes on the heels of a controversial and much-pilloried essay question about reality television on the spring SAT, and I’ve about had it.
Apparently, the powers-that-be in education have simply thrown their hands up in the air and decided to admit publicly that they believe kids are so stupid they couldn’t possibly appreciate great literature on its own merits. Novels such as Great Expectations are clearly too difficult to teach today’s youth, so the best possible reaction is boil the novel down, render down the complexity and texture and spoon-feed what’s left to students as a complement to a full schedule of reality television. I was appalled. Angry. Insulted – not just on behalf teachers, but for students. Right now, when education is in a sad state of upheaval, what with politicians yelling at teachers, teachers yelling at school boards, conservatives yelling at liberals – now is the time to raise expectations, not lower them.
Students know what’s going on in education right now – hey, even movie stars have something to say about teaching in this debate – and they are watching us to see how to react to the crisis in education. If all we have up our collective sleeves is analogies to reality televisions, well, then, I don’t know how to ask them to trust me with their education. When the SAT essay on reality television appeared on the spring SAT, my students – and many others, apparently – were appalled. And they have every right to be. Within three days of the test date, the New York Times reported that, “comments on the now-infamous prompt — which included the question, “How authentic can these shows be when producers design challenges for the participants and then editors alter filmed scenes?” — had stretched across nearly 40 pages on College Confidential, a popular website on college prep. A student quoted in an article that ran in the Washington Post summed it up perfectly: “I guess the kids who watch crap TV did well. I was completely baffled…” I could only apologize and empathize with my students when they complained to me on the Monday after the test was administered, but I was truly embarrassed.
Sandwich forgotten, I started scribbling rebuttals in yellow highlighter all over the margins of the journal and looking around the room for someone to yell at in the absence of the article’s author. We should be teaching students to appreciate Pip, the main character in Great Expectations, because he mirrors their experience of the world. He is a young person struggling to become an adult in the face of adults who treat him unfairly, the trials of poverty, and the pain of unrequited love. Pip certainly has more in common with my students than the experience of some New Jersey housewife in possession of more money than sense, a man vetting a house full of Barbie-doll bachelorettes, or twelve washed-up celebrities stranded on a deserted island. Pip’s story is my students’ story, and I fear for the future of education if we allow a generation of students to believe that they are too stupid to understand their own stories. I thrust my sandwich into my lunch bag, rolled up the offending journal, and stormed back to my classroom. That’s it. Hell hath no fury like a teacher pissed off and determined to prove a point.
Later that day, copies of Great Expectations hit the desks with a loud smack, and the groaning starts immediately. I am fluent in the dialect of adolescent groaning; I get the gist of their complaints and choose to ignore it. They pick the books up, feel the weight of the text in their hands, and flip the book over for the summary. I like to watch my students in these first few minutes alone with a new book. The weaker readers are a little anxious, and even the stronger ones are wary, but everyone is searching for some indication of what the next month of reading will look like.
Turning to the first page, I begin to read to the class.
Here’s where the benefit of a thorough and comprehensive curriculum really pays off. Because Core Knowledge schools teach capital-H History, and not history as an afterthought in social studies class, my students know about Victorian England. They know that the Industrial Revolution was run on the backs of children and the poor and that the writing of Dickens was part of the force that changed that for future generations. They have learned about the rigid Victorian class structure, that a poor boy like Pip has no real hope of changing his fortunes – his expectations – without someone like Miss Havisham as his benefactor. They know why Magwich was in Australia, that it was a penal colony, that when I talk about “The Fall of Man,” I am not talking about a bunjee jump challenge on the reality show Survivor, I am referring to Adam and Eve’s fall from innocence.
And really, that’s what Great Expectations is about. Pip loses his innocence when he first visits Satis House, Miss Havisham’s mansion, and mean ol’ Estella informs him that he’s just a common, laboring boy. Before this moment, Pip was just Pip. Pip’s childhood is not luxurious or even particularly happy, but he is content, relatively safe and innocent in his private little Eden on the marshes outside London (save for regular beatings with The Tickler, of course). Until the day he is sent to play with the aforementioned mean girl, Eve – I mean Estella – who metaphorically smashes him over the head with the apple of knowledge.
Pip loses his innocence on that day, and is pushed out into the big, bad world , ready or not. Every adolescent, even the most reluctant homebody, gets smashed over the head and has to depart Eden at some point. Some call it The Fall of Man, some the Fall from Innocence, but I just call it middle school.
Every one of my students will face this fall, and now that they know it’s coming, they are on the lookout for it in their own lives. Divorce, a parents’ illness, the death of a sister – sometimes it’s easier to talk about difficult issues through the prism of Pip’s life and his experiences. My students struggle with these trials every year, and sometimes stories such as Pip’s help them cope with experiences that can make them feel quite alone in the world. Over the years, my students have connected to so many parts of Pip’s journey, all without the benefit of turning the novel into a reality television show. Books like Great Expectations have the power to show us things about ourselves, particularly when we are able to connect with a story and give ourselves over to a character’s journey.
All due respect to Mr. Bucolo, the National Council of the Teachers of English and the Real Housewives of New Jersey, I think I will stick with my methods this year: a genuine love of the novels I teach, cultural literacy to give context to the texts, and decidedly great expectations for my students.
Jessica Potts Lahey is a teacher of English, Latin, and composition at Crossroads Academy, an independent Core Knowledge K-8 school in Lyme, New Hampshire. Jessica’s blog on middle school education, Coming of Age in the Middle, can be found at http://jessicalahey.com.
Is the NCTE really the “powers that be” in education today? Is that article really reflective of where education is going? Seems to be rather out-of-step to me.
Comment by Tom Hoffman — November 14, 2011 @ 5:02 pm
Love it.
Comment by Jordan — November 14, 2011 @ 6:11 pm
I thought Dickens, like Shakespeare, wrote for the masses? It *is* a potboiler about “Pipella”, even if it also has the higher-brow social justice themes (similar to what Jane Austen and Edith Wharton did in their novels). When I was 14, I didn’t care about the social criticism aspect of Dickens or Austen or Wharton- what I wanted to know was whether the star-crossed lovers would find their “happily ever after”. As an adult, I might be interested in a sociological discussion of the books but that would’ve totally bored me in 9th grade.
Comment by Crimson Wife — November 14, 2011 @ 6:48 pm
@Tom That’s a pretty thin reed to grasp. Whether the NCTE represents the powers that be or is merely emblematic of mainstream pedagogical thought, there can be little doubt that teachers are encouraged to worship at the altar of “engagement” and “relevance.” As Jessica’s post winningly demonstrates, this well-intentioned notion can (like so many other well-intentioned notions in education) easily go astray, if not off a cliff entirely.
To assume our kids can’t appreciate great works of literature because they were written in a time and place very different than our own–to assume that they could not possibly be interested in characters who do not look like they do–is the worst form of condescension.
The example Jessica provides, relating Great Expectations to reality TV, was almost certainly perceived as the teaspoon of sugar to help the medicine go down. But there’s the rub. The moment you perceive a book, an author, or an entire course of study as medicine, you’ve lost.
It is to her credit that Jessica does not see Great Expectations as medicine, but as nourishment.
Comment by Robert Pondiscio — November 14, 2011 @ 7:00 pm
I teach and love Great Expectations as well, and do not try to use reality TV to make it palatable to my students, but I think that the SAT question and the NCTE article — while disappointing — are far from disgusting.
We who love literature should be able to acknowledge that not everyone does so as naturally, while never giving up our dedication to making its lovable, admirable, inspirational qualities come to the fore. If reality TV is a teacher’s entry-point, so be it, as long as his or her commitment ends up honoring the text in all its richness. (My aforementioned disappointment stems from the fact that it is often much more than an entry-point, as well as the fact that we have to spend so much energy building engagement with an audience that lacks intrinsic motivation in the material.) I don’t see us gaining ground by being disgusted at a lack of intrinsic interest, disappointed though we may be.
As for the SAT question, why should an educated American not be able to weigh in on reality TV? I can, and I find almost all of it repugnant. The question wasn’t asking our students to provide an encomium, and in fact seems to invite a criticism. To be honest, I would say that the question could be adequately addressed by a student talking about fiction and whether it mirrors reality. I don’t know why the student who sneeringly decried “crap TV” didn’t have anything of value to say on that question — it seemed to be right up his alley. Maybe he was so busy being disgusted that he didn’t realize that he was quite well equipped to handle it in his own way.
Part of my task as a teacher of literature is to help my students use art to broaden their knowledge, empathy, insight into humanity (or, put as a negative: to overcome ignorance, parochialism, failures of imagination). [This is one of the reasons I so enjoy Robin Bates's website "Better Living Through Beowulf", by the way.] I don’t do anyone any favors by ignoring the students’ origin points, wish though I do that they were starting much further along on all these axes.
I read Jessica’s other post and am extremely impressed with what she has done in her school. I’m glad that she is sticking to her methods; I’m trying to stick to the same methods. I hope she doesn’t waste too much of her prodigious energy, intelligence, and focus on being disgusted.
Comment by Carl Rosin — November 15, 2011 @ 12:03 am
Well said, Jess.
Comment by Melanie — November 15, 2011 @ 1:53 pm
I thoroughly enjoyed your comments, as well as Carl Rosen’s response. This is the kind of exchange of feelings and ideas that we can use more of. I enjoy the richness of the Core Knowledge curriculum and the energy and enthusiasm which it helps to draw out of the students, and yet I sometimes feel too isolated from other teachers who share my love of the humanities and my passion for teaching. These posts make me proud to be part such a noble vocation and a winning team. Over the years a considerable amount of my emotional energy has been expended in the form of disgust with various elements of commercial culture, its banality and squandered possibilities. I think I have a special talent, a gift, for being disgusted in this way, and my extra-curricular reading of Thoreau’s Walden in the bath tub during high school was so much petrol on the flames. The mental jury is still out on whether my anger has been wasted. Often it takes anger to prod one to work for change, and perhaps it is my disgust, as much as my inspiration, which has led me to this most meaningful and essential of professions.
Comment by Bruce Freeberg — November 15, 2011 @ 2:37 pm
Great Expectations is important not just because Dickens is a great writer, but because his writing illuminate an important period of history. But my reading of the idea of CK and of Hirsche is that what is taught should also be the social connective glue of our cultural literacy. This becomes a bit of the problem of a tree falling in the forest but what if so few people are teaching the book does it loose its relevance? Are we to a point where modern education that is available to the vast majority of teens will no longer provide this time of cultural knowledge so it looses is value because for lack of a better word it is no longer circulated?
Comment by DC Parent — November 15, 2011 @ 11:36 pm
I appreciate your thoughts about the importance of literature and how it speaks to us in many different forms. Novels such as the Great Expectations are great ways for students to understand parts of history as well as see how people deal with certain issues no matter when and where someone lives. It is valuable that curriculum still be held to a high standard and not be watered down. However, I see nothing wrong with relating certain current reality issues with great novel classics. I believe that students what to be challenged but that does not mean that you cannot reference issues that are happening in today’s world. The more a student can relate to it the better. Many times students will shut down if it is not exciting and relatable right from the start. I feel that the students are very responsive to material when they are introduced to it in a way that they can immediately connect with. No matter what the reference is, if it helps to create a spark of interest then it is well worth it.
Comment by A Mesker — November 16, 2011 @ 11:56 pm
Perhaps the biggest threat to this community and its goals is that as the educational landscape changes quickly, you will continue hammering on the same targets you have for decades because it is fun and comfortable, long after the rest of the debate has moved on.
That’s your problem, not mine. I’m just trying to be helpful.
Comment by Tom Hoffman — November 20, 2011 @ 5:00 pm
Good advice, Tom. It is more important to be fashionable than effective.
Sorry. That was snarky. I apologize. But honestly, Tom, I don’t know why you think you’re a good judge of the “threats” to this “community,” nor even (based on your past comments and blog posts) particularly well-informed about its goals.
The “threats” to this community are best measured in decades, not television seasons and have everything to do with a conception of a content-neutral view of education. More recently (but still several decades old) is the idea that those who favor shared content are trying to impose a canon, rather than to spread general competence.
What never ceases to surprise me is not how much the educational landscape changes, but how little. It is endlessly fad driven and those fads have a cycle that is as dependable as Haley’s comet (Read Diane Ravitch’s “Left Back”). Knowledge endures. Great literature endures. Great teaching endures. One of its primary functions is to share things of lasting value, not sacrifice everything on the altar of “engagement.” If you are beginning your study of a novel by essentially apologizing for teaching it (“Hey, Kids! It’s just like Jersey Shore!”) you’ve already lost. You’re merely dictating the terms of your own surrender.
Comment by Robert Pondiscio — November 20, 2011 @ 5:07 pm
I think it is great when student’s can begin to make real-life connects with literature. I think it helps then to have a better reading comprehension. The book, “Great Expectations,” is very useful to help students see that their are many challenges in life and everything is not always picture perfect. I think this book also helps students with their own personal decision-making for their personal lives’.
Comment by Ms. N — November 20, 2011 @ 5:34 pm
The educational landscape does change at an alarming rate and as educators we must be able to adjust to it. We should not settle for what we are comfortable will but instead find out what works to improve the students understanding.
Comment by A Mesker — November 20, 2011 @ 5:45 pm
Hi there! I could have sworn I’ve visited this website before but after going through many of the posts I realized it’s new to me.
Regardless, I’m certainly pleased I found it and I’ll be book-marking it and checking back frequently!
Comment by Frank Gore Jersey — November 13, 2012 @ 4:36 pm