A Guide to this Blog

Showing posts with label Heroes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Heroes. Show all posts

Saturday, February 24, 2018

Categorising Heroes: Literacy, the Soviet Union, and Differentiation in the Modern Classroom

The Khirgiz, once part of the Soviet Union, are still renowned for practising the ancient art of Eagle-hunting
A key part of early literacy for children is the development of a schema or model for understanding the world around them. We construct meaning by ordering new experiences and words into our own self-constructed epistemologies, and we can decode the unfamiliar with increasing confidence as a result. In simpler terms, a child's extending of vocabulary is made possible through their ability to classify words into self-determined categories based on what they already know. 

This now-commonly accepted theoretical underpinning of literacy was supported by the groundbreaking work of the Soviet neuropsychologist Alexander Luria in the 1930s.

(What follows is an explanation of the way that thinking is tied to literacy. Skip to the end if you just want the 'Heroes'-based Stage 4 resource, but read on for some interesting stuff on how literacy works!)

Luria hypothesised that some cultures understood the world differently if they were non-literate, and thus used the Soviet-controlled Central Asian states of Uzbekistan and Kyrgyzstan to support his work. The research that the Soviet socio-scientist conducted in these places revealed very strong links between literacy and the ability to think abstractly. 

Luria, circa the 1940s.
Context
As Luria's fieldwork was conducted in the 1930s, when Stalin's hold over the Soviet Union was at it's most stifling, this meant that several factors contributed to him being in the right place at the right time. The country was undergoing a process known as Collectivisation, in which farms and other peasant holdings were grouped together to allow for easier control by the state. Joseph Stalin was undeniably one of the most brutal and totalitarian dictators to ever walk the Earth but one upswing of his regime was a historically-unparalleled rise in literacy. Luria's studies in remote Uzbek and Khirgiz societies were therefore quite serendipitous as they came at a point in Russian history that allowed for observation of completely non-literate communities prior to rapidly-increased literacy. 

It would probably be most accurate to identify Luria's work as something firmly grounded in a Marxist context reliant on class distinctions rather than cultural ones. This is most clear in the way that the neuropsychologist delineates between the literate and the non-literate on the basis of the 'old' non-literate peasantry vs. the newly-educated and unified Stalinist proletariat (working class). 

(I should note here that Luria's writing on this matter is very much a product of its time in terms of the attitudes portrayed therein - he often uses the word 'we' to refer to mainstream Russian society and marginalises minority groups such as the Uzbek and Khirgiz in the process. He also, problematically and Eurocentrically, uses the word 'primitive' to describe non-literate societies). 

The Research
Luria examined five different groups in his field study, roughly half of whom were completely non-literate. I use the term 'non-literate' here rather than illiterate as 'illiterate' implies the option of literacy; these societies were non-literate in the sense that they had not even been exposed to writing (as opposed to illiterate members of Western societies). 

Luria conducted extensive interviews in the native languages of these groups, concentrating on three central questions:
  • How do people linguistically code basic categories of experience as colour and shape?
  • How do they manage classification and abstraction?
  • And then, what about verbal problem-solving and self-analysis?
Results
The Soviet researcher found that the non-literate groups were able to classify drawn shapes only by referring to them as objects from their everyday life (EG. A circle was a 'plate', a triangle was a 'tent'). They did not have abstract terms for these shapes that could be used to classify all circular or all triangular objects. If pressed to arrange two shapes together, they did not classify them through shared shapes but by shared use (EG. Two objects might appear to be tools and classified as similar in this way despite being different shapes). 

This appears to reveal that a lack of written language means that the non-literate groups lacked the language skills/tools for abstraction. The written alphabet is, after all, a series of symbols and therefore an abstract concept. By learning how to work with the abstract concept of written language, literate societies are able to develop a greater level of abstraction in their thought, and can therefore categorise ideas in more complex ways. 

For the Khirgiz and Uzbek groups, colour was even more problematic than shapes. Instead of assigning a name to things that literate groups might classify as 'green', they would instead describe certain things as 'the colour of grass in the spring'. When challenged, they lacked the ability to group colours in any way whatsoever.

When forced to group objects together, the subjects always needed to theorise a shared situation that had a practical use. For example, a log and some tools would go together because they could be used together to build a house. It seemed impossible for the subject to separate one of these things from the other because they could only think in practical terms.

Developing Taxonomies in the Classroom
In Stage 4 English the teacher will often still come across students who struggle with abstraction and this is almost always tied to the students' lower literacy levels. In order to deal with this in English the teacher can combine symbolism with categorisation so students can begin to experiment with building their own taxonomies for better understanding.

The activity here is in connection to a visual literacy unit on Heroes and Villains. Before starting, get students to brainstorm as many different fictional and real life heroes as possible. This should be done independently.

Click here for the Categorising Heroes activity.

In the activity, students use the symbols attached to categorise the list they've created and then assign themselves a 'diversity' score using the criteria. This can then be used to prompt discussion about things such as:
  • Representation of heroes in the media.
  • Who can be a hero?
  • What makes a hero?
  • How aware are we of the kinds of heroes in our world?
A while back I wrote about using an Assessment for Learning task in connection to this same Heroes and Villains topic. This diagnostic assessment can be used to differentiate students into streams of ability. The activity above can be targeted towards the 'mainstream' portion of the class, whereas students identified as more gifted can be targeted with an 'extension' version of the activity.

Click here for the Extension version.

In this version it's left up to students to create their own symbols/categories, and their own criteria to judge them against. This requires more independence, imagination, and willingness to take risks in one's learning.

Alternatively, here is the Adjusted version for the students with typically lower levels of achievement.

In this version the students are given a higher level of scaffolding; an array of heroes are provided in case these students have been unable to put a diverse-enough list together. This works well for students with low literacy as they can then monitor and interact with the lesson without having to write.

For more on Luria's research on literacy, see the chapter 'Cultural Differences in Thinking' from his book The Making of Mind.

Sunday, November 5, 2017

Differentiation: Using Assessment for Learning

Batman: definitely a fan of education
I often find myself coming back to the concept of Day One.

Day One can be the point where you first meet a class, or the point where you decide to start again with a class you already know. Day One is a beautiful thing because it allows you to essentially reboot; you can reboot your expectations, reboot your teaching methods, reboot the resources you use, and even reboot your opinion of the students. Day One can be therapeutic, for both the teacher and the students. Don't we all deserve a new Day One sometimes?

Day One is a time for trying new things. It doesn't matter if it all goes horribly exercise-book-ripped-in-half wrong because when you get to the end of Day One you get to make a decision: is tomorrow Day Two or will you forget and try again with another Day One?

Day Twos are good when they build on something that's worked, and it's important to remember that even the lessons we perceive as 'failures' are still useful lessons in what does and doesn't work, but if a Day One doesn't completely pan out then it's inevitably best to give everyone (yourself included) a second chance. An potentially essential part of an effective Day One is collecting data on your students to assist with their instruction in the days to come and I guess this post, in essence, is about allowing ourselves as teachers to evaluate students from scratch at multiple points throughout the year.

If, like me, you're teaching in a context where the majority of the classes are mixed ability, you'll find yourself tasked with a need to differentiate your curriculum. The idea of targeting your resources to match the strengths and needs of your students isn't a new one. It should be noted, however, that if you're starting out in teaching or just looking to stretch yourself, it won't always be clear how exactly one should identify the differing needs of a class of 20-30 students. You can lean on your Learning and Support Teacher if you have one, and they should be able to give you some helpful pointers, but at the end of the day it's up to each individual teacher to evaluate and judge the abilities of their students accordingly.

This brings us to the three modes of assessment in our current syllabuses: assessment as, of, and for learning. The qualification of assessment into this particular taxonomy is designed to make explicit the need for a teaching-and-learning cycle; that process where we teach, and then we learn, and then we use that learning to teach again (only better). Assessment for Learning is perhaps the most important factor in a healthy and innovative teaching-and-learning cycle. By assessing students at the beginning of a unit of work we can figure out the general level of the class's knowledge about the subject and, more pertinently, ascertain the full spectrum of ability amongst the students. 

In the course of programming a Year 8-aimed Heroes and Villains unit built around visual literacy I wanted to have a diagnostic activity that would allow me to create ability streams in the mixed classroom.

The idea is that students would start out by designing their own superhero. They would be given a period or so to write details about an original character and drawing said character. The 'test' can be found just below.


After this the teacher takes the product the student has created and marks it in four different ways, using the analytical criteria below:


Through the use of this criteria, the student is being evaluated four separate times before starting the unit of work. These criteria are:
  • Visual Representation: The teacher assesses the student's ability to use visual literacy to represent ideas. This will be seen in the image created by the student to represent their hero, and the use of symbolism and other visual techniques to show ideas related to their character.
  • Textual Representation: How closely do the image and student-written content link together? Has the student taken their written ideas into account when designing the visual part? This is also where skills in creative writing can be assessed.
  • Literacy: Starting out with a class always gives the teacher a chance to check on each student's ability to form sentences, write at a whole-sentence and whole-text level, use correct spelling and punctuation, and draw upon a wide vocabulary.
  • Topic Knowledge: You're about to teach a unit on heroes and villains so finding the students who already have a strong background knowledge on comic book characters and the generic conventions associated with them will be invaluable in the days ahead. This means that it's incredibly useful to check this work to see which students know their stuff.
After you've used the analytical criteria to mark the students you can then began to see where their strengths are, and what areas need working on most. Students can subsequently be sorted into separate 'streams' of ability so that activities throughout the unit can be targeted towards different ability levels (IE. Differentiation). 

A thing to remember with differentiation is that you won't need to do it all the time - the separation of marks into five separate streams (see below) doesn't mean that you have your class split into five groups with five different kinds of work every lesson. That would be impossible to organise. The idea is that, sometimes, you can do some group work (with three different streams - core, adjusted, and extension) and other times you can individually target students who may be extremely talented in one particular area (visual literacy) with some homework.

The analytical criteria and the stream guide is included in the activity sheet linked further up. Obviously not everyone teaches heroes and villains to their Stage 4 students but feel feel to backward map anything and adapt it accordingly to suit other units of work.

Saturday, May 6, 2017

Twenty Great Graphic Novels: Literacy, Multimodal Narratives, and Celebrating Free Comic Book Day

A two page spread from Dark Rain by Mat Johnson
Happy Free Comic Book Day! The first Saturday in May has been the international day for free comic consumption since 2002, making this the 16th such yearly event. In an era of increased concerns over literacy, and the ongoing proliferation of information consumption solely through digital means (IE. The Internet), the humble comic book stands tall as the perfect gateway to reading for reluctant readers. The unique combination of visual and written storytelling in comics creates its own set of narrative conventions that force the responder to engage with several significant aspects of literacy, such as:
  • Increasing vocabulary
  • Recognising generic conventions (thus allowing the reader to build internal taxonomies of understanding that allow for different kinds of texts to be intellectually categorised according to style, taste, modes, etc.)
  • Reading pathways (comics are great for this as they often challenge the reader to engage with different graphic representations that encourage a whole page understanding of the direction the narrative is physically flowing in)
  • Multimodal understanding (where the pictures or the text are not able to be understood on their own, in a vacuum, but must instead be brought together for the reader to gleam the full meaning).
In a more holistic sense, comics are said to act as a bridging point between picture books and longer forms of text as far as struggling readers are concerned. The combination of dynamic visual storytelling and easily digested portions of writing allow those with reading difficulties to improve their ability to decode text. Blending the visual and written to negotiate a combined meaning allows the reader to pick up on literacy cues, grammar conventions, narrative structure, and many other aspects of reading that will set them up for increased literacy later in life.

But anyway, putting all this educational medicine aside, there are a lot of comics out there (particularly graphic novels - the longer, self-contained version of the genre) that happen to tell amazing stories in a way that can't be matched in other mediums of communication. Here are 20 great examples of graphic novels for anyone looking to dip a toe in the water (please note that not all would be suitable for teaching - read them first to check):

1. The Gigantic Beard That Was Evil by Stephen Collins
Absurdist with shades of The Truman Show, Pleasantville, and Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs; Collins' debut uses a high concept (a man in an island community whose beard refuses to stop growing) and spins it way out of control to explore concepts of individuality, conformity, authority, and expression of self. 

If you did want to teach this text with a class, it would be interesting to get students to look at the function of panel design in exploring the text's ideas. For example, the long and vertical right hand panel depicts the beard spilling onto the floor as if from offscreen. What is Collins trying to say here?

                                                                                                                                      

2. Blankets by Craig Thompson
Thompson's memoir is heartbreaking and heartfelt, exploring his first experience of love whilst juxtaposing this relationship with a troubled and impoverished upbringing. I challenge you to read this and not shed a tear!

Thompson is a master of the close-up, mise-en-scene, and selection of detail.
                                                                                                                                     


3. Dark Rain by Mat Johnson
Full of action and relating to a real life tragedy (the wake of Hurricane Katrina's visit upon New Orleans), Dark Rain would be perfect reading for those wanting to engage reluctant teenage boys with a text that deals with relevant political issues. Relatively short, fast-paced, and featuring vivid characters straight out of an action-thriller film.
                                                                                                                                      

4. American Born Chinese by Gene Luen Yang
Luen Yang uses three thematically-interrelated stories in three very different genres (coming of age memoir, Chinese folk tale, and politically-incorrect sitcom) to explore notions of race and identity. This one has potential for English teachers to use as a text that explores the Asian perspective.

                                                                                                                                     


5. Safari Honeymoon by Jesse Jacobs
Weird, haunting, funny, and gothic. Whilst Jacobs has a background as an animator on Adventure Time, this one probably isn't suitable for class study. Still worth checking out though!


The mundane and the fantastical intertwine in Jacobs' ecological fairytale.
                                                                                                                                     


6. Watchmen by Alan Moore
When most people think of comics they probably think of superheroes. The majority of this list hopefully showcases some of the other genres explored by graphic novels, however, if there's one comic title that uses superheroes to move well beyond the stereotypical in a way that outflanks its peers then Watchmen would be that title. Alan Moore distinguished himself in the 1980s with various stories that pushed the superhero paradigm to its absolute limits (V For Vendetta, Swamp Thing, The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen), but it's Watchmen that perhaps remains unsurpassed in its exploration of how these sorts of characters might have interacted with a real world context - in this case, the Reagan-era Cold War context.

Pictured here is Walter Kovacs, whose alter-ego Rorschach represents right wing ideology driven to the most extreme point of moral absolutism. In traditional comics, Rorschach would be a heroic avenger figure, in Watchmen he is both disturbed and disturbing.

                                                                                                                                      

7. Daytripper by Fabio Moon and Gabriel Ba
Lovingly crafted by Brazilian identical twins Fabio and Gabriel, Daytripper explores the entirety of a life in non-linear vignettes. There would be few readers who aren't impressed by the use here of the episodic narrative to build a succession of twists and details worthy of any example of great art, no matter the format.

                                                                                                                                      


8. Maus by Art Spiegelman
Maus is probably the most famous non-superhero comic ever written. Spiegelman uses narrative and metanarrative to explore his father's experiences as a European Jew during the Holocaust, beautifully capturing an authentic voice and managing quite an achievement in depicting an event that often defies our understanding.

The horror and intensity of the Holocaust is conveyed in Maus primarily through the use of light, shade, metanarrative, and zoomorphism.
                                                                                                                                     


9. Y The Last Man by Brian K. Vaughan and Pia Guerra
The first title listed here to not be a stand-alone graphic novel, this series takes place across ten volumes and charts the journey of Yorick (reference intentional) as he negotiates his way through the landscape of a post-apocalyptic world where every other man has been killed by a mysterious plague. Brian K. Vaughan manages to take a tired, familiar, and somewhat hokey science fiction trope (a female-led society) and turn it into a genuinely thought-provoking discussion of gender and patriarchy.

One of many fascinating ideas that arise in a world suddenly devoid of men is the question of who would become President of the United States of America. In Y The Last Man, the highest ranking surviving politician is the (Democrat) Secretary of Agriculture - a fact that demonstrates the lack of men in the U.S. Cabinet at the time of the comic's publication. In blackly-humourous contrast, the appalling and complete lack of female politicians in the Republican Party leads to an insurgence led by the wives of the now-dead Republican politicians!
                                                                                                                                     


10. Fun Home by Alison Bechdel
Bechdel is probably most famous for devising the 'Bechdel test', a way of assessing the inherent sexism of fictional texts by counting the number of speaking female characters who don't reflect on their romantic statuses during the course of said texts. It's worth noting here that Bechdel is an accomplished writer in her own right, and her memoir Fun Home (whilst inappropriate for the classroom) is expertly constructed and devastating in its bittersweet remembrance of a complicated father. If the graphic novel memoir is a genre on its own standing (and it is) then Bechdel's Fun Home would undoubtedly be one of its key examples.

Bechdel's intelligence shines through in her articulate use of intertextuality to add depth to the family dynamics that shaped her upbringing.
                                                                                                                                     


11. Virgil by Steve Orlando and J. D. Faith
Alas, another graphic novel not suitable for minors, Virgil is a violent portmanteau of queer theory and '70s exploitation films. The resulting one-shot Jamaican revenge opus has been christened 'queersploitation' by its authors, leading readers down a lurid path of pink and green as the eponymous gay cop battles Caribbean corruption and homophobia in his quest to save his boyfriend.

One of the few panels in Virgil that doesn't confront its reader with an unnatural palette of clashing colours or the intense discrimination that propels the action.
                                                                                                                                     


12. Building Stories by Chris Ware
Chris Ware spent years working on this ambitious project; a multi-layered narrative that comes in a box rather than a bound booklet. In a somewhat metafictional move to extend its commentary on the digitally-driven dehumanisation of our society, Building Stories defies attempts to consume the comic via a PDF scan or even just by sitting and reading it on a lounge. This non-linear and flexible narrative comes via a collection of booklets, posters, broadsheets, and pull-outs; and with instructions that each part should be read in a specific part of the house. In the hands of a lesser writer this would seem gimmicky, however Ware's depiction of suburban life and lifestyle is so simultaneously epic and small that it feels fitting that it should be experienced in a wholly unique way.

Even these images don't do it justice. Building Stories is the Sistine Chapel of the comic book medium.
                                                                                                                                      


13. DMZ by Brian Wood and Riccardo Burchielli
This 12 volume series does for comics as The Wire did for television. Wood's vision of a new American civil war is partially inspired by the volatile post-9/11 political landscape of the U.S.A., and centres on Manhattan; a 'demilitarised zone' between the government-run United States of America and the grass roots militia movement that dubs itself the Free States of America. Wood focuses his story on Matty, an journalism intern who finds himself suddenly stranded at ground zero as the only correspondent reporting from the DMZ. The result is a sharply cynical portrait of a potential future to come.

Amongst the themes explored by DMZ are freedom of speech, integrity, corruption, surveillance, terrorism, political appearances, and the inherent difficulties in maintaining neutrality.
                                                                                                                                     


14. Little White Duck by Na Liu and Andre Vera Martinez
Like American Born Chinese, the Chinese memoir Little White Duck is another great text for teachers looking to explore the Asian perspective in the English classroom. Na Liu's remembrances of Cultural Revolution China are beautifully rendered by evocatively emotive and attractive artwork. Each chapter deals with a different aspect of growing up under the reign of cultural 'grandpa' Mao Zedong, with Na Liu managing to depict historical detail whilst remaining focused on her own very personal stories, thus grounding a difficult period of history in a real context that should make this tale of Mao's China very accessible for all readers.

This panel is especially representative of the looming presence of Chairman Mao in the background of Liu's autobiographical graphic novel.
                                                                                                                                     


15. Aama by Frederik Peeters and Edward Gauvin
Peeters is a surrealist master of the graphic novel and his four-volume epic Aama is a great example of the delightful 'otherness' that permeates European science fiction. Aama combines two familiar science fiction settings (Earth's distant future, and an alien world undergoing rapid and violent change) with the trope of technology run amok, and leaves the reader bewildered by an arresting and dazzling display of visual inventiveness.

Verloc Nim, the protagonist of Aama, is bereft of both wit and physical prowess. His only true weapons are his cynicism and refusal to conform - which make him somewhat vulnerable in situations such as the one depicted above.
                                                                                                                                      


16. The Divine by Boaz Lavie, Tomer Hanuka, and Asuf Hanuka
Similar to Black Rain, which I mentioned earlier in this post, The Divine uses filmic narrative conventions to portray a fast-moving story that explores serious subject matter. Set in a fictional South-East Asian country left broken by its colonialist past, The Divine combines Asian folklore with commentary on Western exploitation of the developing world. Content warning: quite violent!
The Divine explores the contradictory dichotomy in the Western world purporting to provide aid to undeveloped countries whilst simultaneously exploiting them.
                                                                                                                                     


17. This One Summer by Mariko Tamaki and Jillian Tamaki
In This One Summer the Tamaki cousins have created a wonderfully subtle and moving story of growing up, adolescent angst, and all the things that colour a beach-side family summer holiday. Even though this story focuses on Rose and her family, my favourite character would have to be Windy - Rose's awkward and freewheeling 'tomboy' best friend, who is undoubtedly gay and wrestling with her own coming-of-age alongside Rose's more immediate emergence into teenage-hood. This One Summer is naturalistic in its use of the graphic novel format, with panels that sequentially build on one another in a fairly straight-forward fashion, thus allowing the characters and their experiences to take centre-stage. 
The nostalgia of the 'tween' years is lovingly portrayed through tiny details.
                                                                                                                                     


18. Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi
Second only to Maus, Satrapi's personal account of Iran's Islamic Revolution offers a unique window into experiences that are at once identifiable but also wholly alien to the majority of Western audiences. The simplistic and cartoonish illustrations lull one into a sense of familiarity that allows Satrapi to treat the reader as a confidante, telling a culturally complex story anchored in compassion and loss.
                                                                                                                                      


19. Beautiful Darkness by Fabien Vehlmann, Kerascoet, and Helge Dascher
What Beautiful Darkness lacks in narrative depth it more than makes up in tone, combining the gothic and the cute to create a fairytale that becomes increasingly creepy as it unfolds before the reader. I felt kind of blindsided and gobsmacked by the end.


The premise concerns a collection of strange little creatures that emerge from the body of a dead girl to explore the world around them.
                                                                                                                                     


20. Saga by Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples, and Southern Bastards by Jason Aaron and Jason Latour
I've included these two together because, unlike everything else mentioned in this list, these two series are unfinished and still in the process of being published. Saga is currently in its 7th volume, whilst Southern Bastards will see a 4th volume later this year. Neither of these last two examples will be suitable for classroom use but they're worth checking out just to demonstrate the way that the Image comics brand is exploring a wide scope of genres with various quality titles.

A meeting of lovers in Saga, demonstrating Brian K. Vaughan's eye for darkly witty juxtaposition of imagery and ideas.
Brian K. Vaughan and Fiona Staples have collaborated on Saga to create one of the breakout comic hits of recent years. The concept focuses on the daughter of two star-crossed lovers from opposing sides in an intergalactic war, and it moves out from there to encompass a range of memorable characters, themes and subplots: bounty hunters, talking seal pups, romance novelists, TV soaps, drug addiction, pacifism, and a royal family of robots with TV sets for heads. It sounds bizarre, and it is, but it's also very entertaining and you'll no doubt fall in love with the many visually inventive aspects of Staples' character designs.

Euless Boss: One mean sonuvabitch!
Southern Bastards, on the other hand, couldn't be more different - telling a small-town tale of deception and greed where the local football coach, Euless Boss, rules over his corner of the Alabama backwoods with violent and unquestionable power. With only three volumes to its name thus far, it's perhaps too early to talk extensively about themes or where its heading, but nonetheless it stands tall as a great example of the 'rural noir' subgenre and the effectiveness of the comic book format in telling richly layered stories such as this in a memorable and idiosyncratic fashion.