Meet New Committee Members

Meet Pat Cordeiro - Region 1 Representative

I must have been about eleven or so when my father applied for work at Pratt & Whitney Aircraft in Connecticut.  He showed me many papers he had to sign in order to get the job.  They were lists of organizations he could swear he had never belonged to, newspapers he had not subscribed to, books he could swear he had never read.  It was the mid-1950s and McCarthyism and the threat of the Red Menace were very strong, even in safe, small towns.

I remember worrying about this a lot, I knew we needed the job.  We were immigrants from Scotland when World War II was over and had moved out West where my folks homesteaded, building homes and furniture, moving, building again, following jobs.  We didn’t have much when we came to Connecticut and Pratt & Whitney meant security for all of us.

My dad told me not to worry.  He could sign that he hadn’t belonged to or read anything on the list, but he wanted me to know how things were in the world.  I remember not being surprised at the organization’s part.  Even then I knew that some things might not be good to do.  But I was shocked that things that come in the mail, magazines and newspapers, and books that someone might give you could be held against you forever, even if you hadn’t read them.  It was a hard lesson about the power of print in people’s lives, and it has stayed with me ever since.

During 25 years of teaching elementary school, my students talked with me about issues of freedom and justice.  I was fortunate to work in a special place where teachers were respected and given authority to teach.  But still we argued with some in the community, in the administration, and sometimes with each other, always about print, always about what materials, books, or papers children should read and use.  While my classroom never suffered outside censorship, I struggled on the continuum of encouraging children to read and write freely but not to read and write everything.  I struggled with my own assumptions about what some parents might see as appropriate and others might not find fitting for their children.  I struggled with the tension between freedom to choose, teaching for choice and, “in loco parentis,” teaching-as-agent- of-parental-control.

Today after thirteen years in teacher education, I still struggle.  I wish I knew the best advice to give our undergraduates who enter a teaching climate so politically charged that I’m reminded of when I was eleven.  I struggle with advice for graduate teachers who talk of keeping their heads down in these times and “just teaching.”  And it’s all about print.  I tell my students, undergraduate, graduate and doctoral, about SLATE and NCTE and how educators can support each other and work toward enrichment of language and learning.  We talk about what we think is best for children and their development of literacy through literature.  And we write together in meaningful and socially significant ways.  Sadly, this is new for many of them; gladly, it’s a beginning.  Sadly and gladly, these kinds of times raise everyone’s awareness of print, its power, and what democracy is all about.

Meet Fred Barton - Region 4 Representative

OK, in retrospect I guess it wasn’t a good idea when the cop pulled me over for speeding and asked me what I had to say for myself to respond, “What will fifty dollars say for me?” While my mouth still occasionally gets me in trouble, I like to think that I’ve become a little more audience aware over the years.

I have learned (obviously the hard way) that how I talk to a person is often more important than what I have to say. Perhaps it’s my training in rhetoric, or my 30 years experience as a composition teacher, that has helped me to understand the importance of understanding my audience. Yeah. That and getting fired (twice) and being involved in numerous grievances and job actions (won all but one). Along the way, though, I like to think that I have been able to make a positive difference in some small way.

I have been a constant advocate for students’ rights and teacher support. Politicians know children don’t vote and are often tempted to use them to make political points with the people who do. Witness the drug searches students have to submit to, often for nothing any more sinister than wanting to play in the band. Adults would never submit to such indignities but are often in favor of inflicting them on other people’s children. Yes, I said other people’s children because as soon as one of these policies interferes with little Jimmy or Jeanie, you can bet Mom and or Pop will be in the principal’s office with the lawyer’s card clutched in their hot little hands. So. Maybe we need to think about these things a little more deeply before acquiescing to the politicians. Especially when actually helping students is usually way down on their agenda.

The same could be said for teachers because when politicians can’t think of anything to do to the kids, they often turn their attention to the teachers. It seems like our elected officials are falling all over themselves to come up with new ways to punish teachers and their schools if we don’t turn out a crop of “World Class Citizens.” What does that mean though? To business it means people who can read manuals, follow orders and not ask too many questions. To politicians, who depend on the money business provides to their campaigns, it means keep the customer happy. The customer in this case being the person with the biggest checkbook.

Sometimes I think it’s only teachers who remember that in a democracy, literate, critical thinkers who aren’t afraid to question form the foundation of a healthy society. I know how lonely it can feel to stand before a group of students and try to help them learn to use their literacy to evaluate their choices while the mobs howl outside the classroom clamoring for lockstep educational policies and single minded pseudo-assessments. By speaking out for myself, I also help others, and those who also speak out help me. Which brings me back to the point that floats through all of what I do: the importance of conversation. Both within and outside our profession the need to communicate what we do and why we do it is crucial. Unfortunately our democracy often listens only to the loudest voice, not necessarily the most literate or cogent one. While experience teaches me this is true, I have to believe there is a place for persistence, an audience for those of us who can consistently articulate a vision.

So that’s what I want to do, use this position as a bully pulpit to spread the real word about what teaching and learning are all about. And I’ll need all the help I can get. Especially if I get stopped by another cop.