You can't blame the youth
Timothy Bailey, Guest Columnist
In 1972, the late Mr Winston Hubert McIntosh, aka Peter Tosh, knowing that children live what they learn, in his own inimitable way, reminded Jamaica and the world, "You can't blame the youth". This song was not as received as it should, perhaps not because of the song itself, or the message it brings but, the messenger and who he represented - the mass of poor, black, Jamaican youth.
David Lowenthal, in his West Indian Societies, told us that the salad days of Jamaican music were met with major resistance by the movers and shakers of power, who also took it upon themselves to impose their definition of beauty on the people. As a result, many things suffered, including excellent local recordings that were not heard on radio. Although their lyrics and general presentation were of a high quality, they were denied airplay on the basis that they were 'Yard-boy music'.
The Jamaican singers and musicians struggled and persevered, and today, reggae music triumphs as a social equaliser, a national gold mine and the ineluctable social juggernaut, still sweeping and taking everything in sight.
Education paradigm
The pith of this discussion, however, is not about the evolution of Jamaican music or its sociological impact, or even about Peter Tosh's song, You Can't Blame the Youth, but rather a re-examination of the thought of the song and an attempt to further the discussion it initiates, through an education paradigm.
There is much talk of poor conduct and antisocial behaviours of children and adolescents. Schools are rife with reports of shootings, fatal stabbings, teenage pregnancies, stealing, drug abuse, and wide-scale failure at the academic level. Youth are demonised and blamed severely for what seems like a state of decadence in these institutions of learning, while their leaders are scrambling and shouting for education transformation but with little knowledge that (as Paulo Friere correctly reminds us), "The transformation of education cannot take place before the transformation of society."
Amid the litany of negatives, not even the most self-centred gerontocracy can deny youngsters of their natural God-given strength and energy, their dreams and tenacity, their technical savvy, their fearlessness, their acclivity to risk-taking and the probability to survive. Their unflinching sacrifice to and knowledge of things which are of interest to them, their enthusiasm, vigour and exuberance have always driven human civilisation to new frontiers. They are the keepers of our species from extinction and if we fail to love, challenge, empower, celebrate, open doors and build scaffoldings for them to climb, then in the lingua franca, 'our corner is dark'.
Teacher important
Noted educator Haim Ginott wrote: "I've come to the frightening conclusion that I am the decisive element in the classroom. It's my daily mood that makes the weather. As a teacher, I possess a tremendous power to make a child's life miserable or joyous. I can be a tool of torture or an instrument of inspiration. I can humiliate or humour, hurt or heal. In all situations, it is my response that decides whether a crisis will be escalated or de-escalated and a child humanised or dehumanised." This philosophical position underscores a high level of student-friendliness and the willingness of the teacher, as the authority figure, to share his awesome power with students. Unfortunately, this is a desideratum, a missing element in too many schools and classrooms.
One must appreciate the challenges to both teachers and students. If 40 or 50 young, unique individuals, with different needs and demands, from different places and backgrounds are forced together in a room, and placed in front of an adult (teacher), sometimes generations removed, yet entrusted to impart important 'lessons' to fill these young minds. It is not surprising that in many of these cases, the teacher becomes overwhelmed and begins to assume the role of a custodian or guard.
Quite frankly, as Ginott points out, the teacher has unthinkable and striking power in the classroom but, sadly, too often he/she holds on to it, almost with 'dear life', and in so doing gets into all sorts of power struggles with students.
The atmosphere of the entire classroom would be transformed if the teacher is able to fray some of his/her power and authority in demonstrating his lessons in a real-life situation. He may not teach a subject called 'democracy', but how far-reaching and wonderful it would be if he were able to strive to create an example of democracy and a spirit of peace, love and conviviality in all subjects. This should be his first priority, especially in this ex-slave, post-colonial setting.
'Young Turks'
There is an interesting local television advertisement that focuses on youth and education and, in particular, it targets the male of our species. It presents staggering statistics and arresting photographs of adolescents appearing like urchins or simply sine cura. The advertisement ends with the punchline, "Boys, get an education." This is sound advice, indeed, and could have come from any well-thinking mother or father or from any good, civic-minded citizen or corporate body that wishes its country well.
Other than the obvious benefits that the acquisition of an education brings, like job opportunities and social mobility, it is generally observed that as the level of education increases in a demography, so too does the gross domestic product (GDP). It cannot be less-than-sound advice, then, for youth to 'get an education', even for greater polity, in an arena where 'Young Turks' are continually discriminated against.
The history of traditional education, however, is largely seen in the context of schools, an 'institution' in the strictest sense of the word. This institution has failed to evolve to become relevant and effective and to meet the needs of a changing population in a dynamic world. The school is still elitist in its structure and operation, and whenever the elites are forced to support a policy of public education for the masses, they save face by supporting a design that does not, in any way, affect the core appearance, name and perceived status of their important schools.
Sometimes the new design may operate like a school within a school which allows the new recruits to be kept separate and apart from the children of the haute monde. If the new school is a separate building, located on separate premises, invariably it is seen to be of a lesser grain and pedigree than its 'traditional' counterpart. Either case (new recruits or new school) is usually seen to be plagued with serious behavioural problems and learning difficulties, thus entrenching a self-fulfilling prophecy.
However, both those who wear the epaulet of the important school, and with the less-fortunate ones of little means and no known scion, may experience a myriad of difficulties in getting an education at school. Therefore, "Boys, get an education" is, unfortunately, easier said than done, especially in the present school scenario where the pursuits of an education is seemingly not very macho anyway.
The renowned early Christian church father and philosopher St Augustine (354-430), in recollecting his school days in Rome, wrote: "Oh my God, how I suffered. What torment and humiliation I experienced. I was told that because I was a mere boy, I had to obey my teachers in everything. I was sent to school. I did not understand what I was taught. I was beaten for my ignorance. I never found out what use my education was supposed to be." He reflected years later and concluded that he learned most of what he knew, not from those who taught him but, from those who talked to him.
Horace, the famous Roman poet, had a similar experience. He nicknamed his teacher, 'Wacker Orbillus'. Many education consumers today would concede, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that this is redolent of the general spirit of the school in the 21st century.
Had it not been for the passing of legislation to protect our children, perhaps the physical 'whacking' would have become even more prevalent, especially among the powerless. However, what of the severe punishment caused by 'tongue-lashing'? Like 'sticks and stones', it may not 'break your bones' but can cut deep, beyond the bones, to the very heart, and those injuries leave scars that last forever.
No changes
Too many schools are rough and violent and populated by youngsters branded as recalcitrant students and are known to be associated with violent gangs. Information worldwide tells of students' wide-scale failure, even in some of the most prestigious schools. Some schoolyards are war zones, and there is no sign that things are becoming better, except, of course, we continue to blame the youth.
Has it ever come to mind that the shape, size and structure of the school buildings and classrooms contribute nothing to hominess or help in any way to ameliorate the problems? The ways in which children or adolescents are organised and packed into rooms for instruction seem to be a Spartan exercise to show the survival of the fittest. The ubiquitous figurative 'big desk', the chalk-and-talk presentation of the teacher (teaching act), along with the emphasis on rote and regurgitation, are of little or no conciliation or function today. The evaluation of schools and subjects, the emphasis on passing examinations and society's stereotype of the 'good student' all contribute to the unnecessary tension, high absenteeism, hostility and social dislocation at the place we now call school.
The school, as we know it, is for a different era and economy. It has served the industrial and plantation economies well, during that time of our history when the masses must be kept under control and the role of the workers was simply to follow basic instruction to accomplish simple manual tasks. Supervision, too, was specific and centralised and certainly out of step with present-day management demands in a complex society and knowledge-based economy where every man is called upon to think critically, learn new skills and unlearn old ones, function effectively in a democratic, information age, control his own affairs and live well.
>>See part 2 in next week's Sunday Gleaner.
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