In 1996, the Oakland school board caused a national uproar by doing the right thing. Like with most good things that cause national uproars, the good decision was walked back and apologies were made. Most people who remember the Ebonicscontroversy from 1996 mostly remember that it was mercilessly mocked by people as diverse as Maya Angelou and Rush Limbaughand was used as an example of just how far down the wrong track public schools had gone. Only, it wasn't. It wasn't a sign of the urban apocalypse. It wasn't a sign of the death of America. It wasn't the steep step down into the ghettification of our children. It was a simple and pragmatic solution to one of the great problems facing urban (and rural) schools today:

When a child who grows up speaking street English (or street Spanish) is taught English as if they already know it, they don't learn it as easily or as fluently as they would if they were taught it using the same techniques we use with all other second languages.

When we teach an English speaker English, we base it on the assumption that they are hearing and experiencing proper English outside of school. We base it on the assumption that the language in the home reflects that of the textbook, so we don't teach them about code-switching and we don't use situational communication tools such as role-playing and dialogues -- tools that we automatically enlist when dealing with children who's first language is Spanish, Hmong, or Swahili.

Instead, we teach English through reading, writing, and memorization of patterns that we assume are being re-enforced elsewhere. They are not, so our children do not learn formal English and they fall behind and they don't understand why they are failing classes that are in and about the very language that they think they are using every day.

"There are two kinds of English, Marvin," I explained, "The kind that you use -- we call that vernacular or 'street' English -- and the kind that we teach in schools, which we call 'Formal English. Formal English is the language of business, it's the language of money. It's the language of White people (my students understand 'white people' to mean 'rich people,' which really means anybody in the middle class or above. I'm 'ballin'' in their eyes because I'm a teacher and I earn 'bank') and White people have the money. They also don't feel comfortable with people who don't speak their language and don't fit in to their world, so those who don't learn Formal English are locked out of most opportunities. Learning Formal English is the single most effective way to make sure that you can succeed in business."

"White folk do got the money, though, blood -- that's why we rob them," (actual quote) Marvin asserted, agreeing with me.

"You rob them, you make a couple hundred and you've got a short career. You learn formal English and learn to work with them, you'll get much more, Marvin, because you'll have a skill they need."

He looked at me, waiting for me to go on.

"You speak street. 40% of our country speaks and acts like you do. White people (read: Middle Class), they only ever know Formal English. They only know how to act in their culture. You? If you can learn Formal English, you'll be bilingual and you'll be able to be a bridge between cultures. Urban culture drives the marketplace, man, and businesses need people like you to help them get at it."

I probably oversold the potential, but Marvin got my point -- he gets every one of my points -- like I said, he's bright and quick and clever. He's also decided that English 10A might be worth it. I think I'm going to begin doing role playing and dialogues with my students in Advisory, too. They all want access to the big pie and it seems pretty fucking unfair not to help them get it.

Crossposted from Credulant Musings