To Teach or Not to Teach?

One month after the 1885 publication of Mark Twain’s Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, the Concord Public Library, home of Emerson, Thoreau, Hawthorne, and the Alcotts, voted to remove Twain’s book from the library for fear that Huck, “rough, coarse, and inelegant,” would be an immoral influence on young readers.  Louisa May Alcott, sharp in her criticism, noted that, “If Mr. Clemens cannot think of something better to tell our pure minded lads and lasses, he had best stop writing for them.”  As one literary historian remarked, “Jo March would not be allowed to play with Huck.” Jehlen, Mary, "Banned in Concord"

While for different reasons, Huckleberry Finn remains as controversial today as it did in the 1800s.  The Concord Library thought Huck was a poor character model; today’s criticism relates primarily to the issue of race and use of one of the most derogatory words in the English language.  While the folks in Concord thought Huck was of poor character, times have changed, and Louisa Alcott seems to have missed the entire point about Huck’s worthiness as an example for others, yet our concerns today make it still questionable as to whether middle school kids should read Huck Finn.

And that is why I keep reevaluating.  Over the past couple of weeks, my students have been reading Huckleberry Finn.  I have been teaching this novel every three years or so for the past fifteen years, and I struggle every time as to whether or not to keep it in our curriculum for gifted seventh and eighth graders.  Each time I read Huck Finn, I am more astonished by the complexity of the novel and its message.  However, each time I read it with my students, I worry that they may not understand Twain’s satire and commentary regarding slavery, white supremacy, and the heartbreak and lingering lack of self-esteem experienced by children of abusive alcoholics.  The comedy in the novel mixes up our emotions as readers, and on the surface, sometimes seems like the real story.  Yet as Ralph Ellison said, “one of the functions of comedy is to allow us to deal with the unspeakable.  And this Twain did consistently.” The book allows students to see that life in the antebellum south could be complicated and ugly, accomplishing this feat while entertaining the reader.  In order to teach Huck Finn, I have to work hard to challenge my students to look beyond the humor and to note that we are only hearing one side of the story, the presentation of a poor white kid brought up in a racist culture, a boy who struggles with his conscience yet ends up doing what he thinks is the “wrong” thing, but that the reader knows is right, helping Jim to freedom. 

How do I try to do this?  Lots of preparation ahead of time, frank discussion of the n-word, use of Gloria Naylor's essay about her childhood, student essays on reactions to the word, sharing tidbits of the many defenses of the novel, reflections by African American scholars such as Stephen Carter and Toni Morrison, and by reading excerpts to the students of Jocelyn Chadwick-Joshua’s, The Jim Dilemma: Reading Race in Huckleberry Finn.  Much has been written about whether or not to teach Huck Finn.  A responsible teacher will present the conflict to her students in order to allow them to know how awkward and unsettling it is to teach.  With constant reminders of Huck’s particular lens, I encourage students not only to put themselves in his shoes, but also to step outside the character’s narrative in order to see the presentation objectively.

Is it okay to teach the novel to younger students who may not understand these complexities, to teach the novel just for its humor?  Since I constantly ask myself about whether or not to use Huck Finn at all in our curriculum, I asked my 8^th graders this question.  While almost every single student indicated that she or he enjoyed the novel, they collectively thought no, honestly indicating that the use of the n-word upset them, and noting that only study of the novel in depth with reminders of its satire made it possible for them to understand when they would not have otherwise done so.  Some were even so honest as to say they want to read it again when they are older, indicating they will have better comprehension the next time through.  Maybe they said this because they are quite perceptive of my own feelings.

For now, I will keep teaching Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, but I am sure I will struggle again next time with whether or not to do so, even with daily discussion regarding the complexities and controversies surrounding the novel.  I guess feeling unsettled is best.  

Dancing

I recently had the opportunity to spend a few minutes in our third-fourth grade class, where one of our division leaders teaches humanities at The Sage School.  This man is brilliant and could have been as successful at a major university as he is in a room full of 8 and 9 year olds, kids that look at him with obvious love because he so patiently, respectfully, and thoroughly explains the world to them.  Why does he make this life choice in a world that values materialism and titles, a world that often does not respect teachers? 

Our school is full of people like this, a woman teaching math with two PhDs, an Ivy League epidemiologist teaching sixth graders to write, an internationally recognized artist coaxing kids who pretend they only want to do math into amazing expressions of creativity and more; our faculty is just loaded. 

There are many reasons for our choices, but each reason can be traced to a single motivator, the kids and our relationships with them; there are not many professions where the emotional compensation is as abundant or where the immersion with the people you serve is so complete.  Teaching presents constant opportunities for personal growth.  For example, I learn something new from the kids every day.  Maybe it is some interesting fact, or maybe it is just the ability to see a problem or interpretation of literature in a new way.  Teaching is like dancing with a partner where each person has a chance to lead once in awhile; this reciprocity is the heart of a meaningful relationship.  As in any dynamic partnership, sometimes the students can be challenging, and the adults in the community either absorb energy from the kids or are drained by them.  Teachers must be confident even when a third grader may know more than the teacher on a particular subject, conveying to that child a sense of safety in the world, allowing children to be children with the knowledge that adults will responsibly be the adults.  For really smart kids, this is not always the case.  Sometimes the adults in their lives are either so enamored of the child’s abilities that they interact with the child as if he or she were an adult, or the adult is intimidated and hostile to the child because of that child’s intelligence.  At other times, students are not always wiz kids and struggle, requiring a teacher's patience and the willingness to look into a child’s eyes and to convey that no matter what, you love her or him and the sincerity to really do so.  That’s what makes it work, and that is why we are here.