Evolution

I'd have thought I would be writing about The Book Thief.  I think, perhaps, after I finished, I found there was almost too much reaction, too much emotion; somehow, I was stunned and unable to shape my thoughts into something write-able and read-able. 

Then I read from our Literature Circles book, and there was something that stuck out in my mind, and that connected my readings and my thoughts on issues within The Book Thief, about The Book Thief, and about teaching novels in general, and it became the focus of my blog for this week.

On page 149 of Literature Circles, in the section where two fourth grade teachers describe their initial experiences with Literature Circles, there is an explanation of the space in which they conduct the circles, because, as they say, "who likes to read a book in stiff, upright chairs?"  This is true, and it is not something oft discussed in educational circles.  The teachers go on to describe the rooms where they read, which "have the feeling of a living room, with couches, recliners, rocking chairs, pillows, rugs, and several floor and table lamps.  Just turning off the fluorescent overhead lights and using our special 'mood lighting' really changes the climate in the room." 

One might think that this is too student-lounge-like, and this not appropriate for real learning.  Those folks might be satisfied with the simple response that the literature circles are in fact quite different than other classroom activity, and that this more relaxed environment enhances the more relaxed mood and atmosphere of the literature circle. 

But something more complicated took shape in my mind.  Our classrooms have looked the same for a very long time.  While our homes and offices and lives have changed dramatically, our classrooms have stayed the same for hundreds of years.  It may be a conducive set-up for learning in many, even most instances, or it may not be.  At any rate, while we question everything in education - every practice, every teacher, every text, every philosophy - we have not much questioned the physical layout of the traditional classroom.

In the early 1800's - even the early 1900's, the times of Liesel Meminger - our comforts were limited.  We sat in wooden chairs for most things; there was no upholstery if you were not wealthy.  Rooms were furnished with necessities, and little beyond.  As technology progressed, only a select few were able to partake of its pleasures.  Not everyone had telephones and certainly not everyone had televisions. 

Today, this is not the case.  Doesn't every person you know have a cell phone?  A television?  An upholstered chair?  Somewhere in our history - and this parallels a shift in the economy and the of our nation - it became common for not only the wealthy to partake of these comforts, but the whole population.  From the lowest income strata of the middle class to the highest strata of the upper class, we all have these creature comforts and they are in no way considered luxuries today.

But in Liesel Meminger's time, she was lucky to sleep in her own room (except when she shared with Max) and to have a full meal (albeit watery pea soup) once a day.  She probably had not seen much in the way of upholstered furniture until she visited Frau Hermann's mansion. 

In her day, with such limitations placed on such a large population of the people (and the same was true in the U.S., in a way that it is no longer, anyway), there was a very different mindset.  People did not feel entitled.  I would argue that we do today.  Children were disciplined rigidly (as we saw clearly in The Book Thief).  I would argue that they are not today.  Sitting still in a wooden chair all day was the norm, and if you were to misbehave - well, we saw what happened to Liesel, and to Rudy, and to all miscreants in the schools, both German and American, of those days. 

Sitting is a wooden chair all day today is NOT the norm.  Outside of school, students are exposed to more comforts than the students of 1900 could fathom.  Whether you agree with the comforts we afford our children or not, or with the disciplinary structures we impose (or don't impose) or not, this is our world.  We have all inherited it, and for better or worse, we all exist in it.  We all partake of modern comforts, and we have all changed - inherently and forever - because of this. 

So perhaps we ought to talk about the physical structure of our classrooms?  Perhaps students today need a different environment in which to learn.  Of course, it has changed somewhat already; there are computers in many, if not most classrooms; most students are texting, with or without permission, throughout the school day.  And I am not suggesting that we replace school desks and chairs with recliners and couches.  But some changes might make sense if our goal is to teach to the students of today; to effectively encourage a genuine desire to learn in the highly stimulated, and quite comfortable, minds and bodies of the students of 2011.

One of the reasons I chose to write in this manner for this particular entry is to model what I imagine students might do, and what I believe we should encourage them to do - make connections on whatever level appeals to them, and focus on what was of actual interest to them in the texts they encounter.  If The Book Thief affected any student in the manner it did me, and left me with tears falling down my cheeks and needing a moment to collect myself, I can imagine that that student may not know exactly where to focus their reaction in conversation with other students.  If that student chose to make a connection between the way that Liesel lived in the 1930's and 40's, and the way that she herself lives now, that would be as meaningful and valid as if she wrote a report about the terrors of the Holocaust, would it not?  There was so much to focus on in The Book Thief, and I think that as a teacher, the best method may be to allow students to pursue their own diverging interested in the text somewhat freely, until they take shape, and then to encourage them to make some strong connections between those ideas some some intellectual pursuit.  That could include writing about their own family's experiences with the Holocaust; it could include making connections between the comforts of that world and those of today's world, or the similarities and differences of children then and children today (what children did for fun then - soccer, bike-riding, and yeah, theft - and what they do for fun now); it could include writing a fictional account of how they imagines Max's or Liesel's life unfolded after the story ended. 

I think we ought to give our students certain "comforts."  One of the most important things I took from both The Book Thief and the Literature Circles reading was the notion that fun is important.  Despite the most painful of times that Liesel lived through, and the horrible things that happened to Rudy and herself, they sought fun.  Kids will do that; that will never change.  We as teachers have to stimulate that fun-factor when we are teaching literature if we ever want the students to enjoy reading, and not only do it of necessity.  While we might maintain our traditional "hard" classroom environment forever, perhaps the unexpected inclusion of floor pillows or background music will soften students to the tasks before them, make them more comfortably interested, and make the experience FUN.