Ms. Driver’s seeming willingness to comply with educators’ decisions, even when they contradict her own “gut feelings,” is not a sign that she lacks interest in Wendy’s education. The Lower Richmond teachers readily acknowledge her as a “loving,” “supportive,” and “concerned” parent. The field-workers observe her keep a close watch every day for over two weeks, on the lookout for “the paper” Wendy was to bring home from the school regarding testing, which failed to arrive. She did not call the school to ask for it, however, but preferred to wait it out.
Neither does Ms. Driver’s approach reflect a meek or timid personality. She refers to herself as “hotheaded,” and it is clear that she can be assertive. With service providers like her cable company, and with her landlord, she shows no hesitancy in making whatever demands are necessary to achieve the results she wants. When the cable company’s service representative does not show up as promised, she calls the company repeatedly and eventually asks to talk to a supervisor. When the hot water heater in their rental house begins leaking, she calls the landlord. When he instructs her to turn off the heater and wait until he can arrange to get the problem corrected, she refuses. Pointing out that she is home alone with a baby and two other young children, she insists that he come promptly and take care of the problem.
Having discovered that her landlord is not a competent plumber, on a different occasion, Ms. Driver decides to take things into her own hands:
I ask about the faucet. Debbie seems outraged. She gets up from the kitchen table and walks to the sink and turns the faucet on to full. “I don’t have any pressure! Look at this! This is full.” The water is flowing at a steady rate but not rushing down; it looks to be at roughly half pressure. She says, “I am going to call a plumber and have him fix it and then very nicely deduct it from my rent.”
This kind of assertiveness is almost wholly absent from Ms. Driver’s interactions with educators. The one exception involves Willie rather than Wendy. During a spring concert at the school, Willie, one of only a handful of white children in a crowd of Black children, is overcome by the heat. He grows dizzy and sits down in the middle of the performance. None of the teachers makes a move to help him. Ms. Driver, sitting in the audience, gets up and struggles slowly through the crowded auditorium to reach him. She is furious. Still, although she recounts the story (with obvious anger) many times to extended family members, she does not mention it to any of the teachers or anyone else at the school. Overall, unlike middle-class parents, Ms. Driver keeps her opinions about the school to herself.
Thus, in looking for the source of Ms. Driver’s deference toward educators, the answers don’t seem to lie in her having either a shy personality or underdeveloped mothering skills. To understand why Wendy’s mother is accepting where Stacey Marshall’s or Melanie Handlon’s mothers would be aggressive, it is more useful to focus on social class position, both in terms of how class shapes worldviews and how class affects economic and educational resources. Ms. Driver understands her role in her daughter’s education as involving a different set of responsibilities from those perceived by middle-class mothers. She responds to contacts from the school—such as invitations to the two annual parent-teacher conferences—but she does not initiate them. She views Wendy’s school life as a separate realm and one in which she, as a parent, is only an infrequent visitor. She does not, like Ms. Marshall, challenge the school’s authority in her daughter’s placement. She does not, like Ms. Handlon, consult with other parents about day-to-day experiences in the classroom. Nor does she call Wendy’s teachers or come to school to discuss homework assignments. Ms. Driver expects that the teachers will teach and her daughter will learn and that, under normal circumstances, neither requires any additional help from her as a parent. If problems arise, she presumes that Wendy will tell her; or, if the issue is serious, the school will contact her.
One result of this way of looking at parent-school interaction is that for Wendy, school is indeed her own world. Unlike Melanie Handlon, for instance, Wendy does not reexperience her classroom failures at home. In fact, because her mother does not initiate contacts with the school, Wendy has the opportunity to manage certain aspects of her education on her own. If she chooses not to mention a problem to her mother, it is unlikely Ms. Driver will hear about it from other sources. Indeed, in the spring of fourth grade Wendy has a run-in with Mr. Johnson, her reading resource teacher (“cause he kept hollering at me. He kept hollering at other kids and got me scared”). She simply stops going to his special education reading class for two weeks. She tells no one.10 Ms. Driver, however, does not know about this episode until much later (when Mr. Johnson tells her). She remains unaware of an important school-related issue because her key informant about the educational process is Wendy, not school personnel, or even other parents. School is Wendy’s world.
The educational and economic resources associated with Ms. Driver’s class position also affect the approach she takes with teachers and other school staff. Ms. Driver’s high school education and low-level clerical job do not equip her with the same amount of information, or even the same access to sources of information as those Ms. Marshall gained from her graduate school degree and managerial position. Ms. Marshall is fluent in the jargon educators use (e.g., Mr. Johnson’s reference to “social emotional overlay”), and she knows that her daughter’s school must allow her as a parent to have Stacey tested independently to determine her eligibility for the gifted program. Ms. Driver, on the other hand, is reluctant to sidestep or even supplement school programs. She worries that paying a private company to boost her daughter’s reading skills will just cost her money and not produce results. She does not have Ms. Marshall’s grasp of educational terminology, either. In fact, Ms. Driver seems to have significant trouble following the intricacies of the debate among the Lower Richmond staff about the nature of Wendy’s learning difficulties (she complains that she “couldn’t understand” the periodic reports the school sent her regarding Wendy’s educational progress).
That Ms. Driver has real difficulty understanding the terms professionals routinely employ is clear from the following episode at the dentist’s office. The children’s dentist, Dr. Marks, comes into the room to discuss with Ms. Driver the results of the six-month checkups she has just completed for Wendy and Willie.
Dr. Marks says that Willie has two cavities “on his permanent teeth” and she tells Debbie, “He needs to brush, especially in the back teeth.” Wendy has “tooth decay. Let me show you on the X ray.” Dr. Marks lights the X-ray viewing table. She points. “See here and here?” Debbie glances at the X ray and nods. “The decay is on her temporary teeth, but you are between a rock and a hard spot because leaving them in will cause potential damage to her permanent teeth.” Debbie interjects, “So you want to pull them?” Dr. Marks says, “Yes,” adding, “They are loose. We can do them on the same appointment.” Debbie does not seem anxious or upset at this news of cavities.
Ms. Driver makes another appointment for Wendy and Willie and then steps into the waiting room to face her questioning children:
Debbie tells Willie, “You have two cavities that have to be filled.” She tells Wendy, “You have to have two teeth pulled.” Wendy asks, “Do I have cavities?” Debbie says, “No.” Wendy, excited, says, “Goody!” and then announces triumphantly to Willie, “You have two cavities and I don’t.”11
Ms. Driver does not equate the term “tooth decay” with “cavity.” Over the next ten days, there are many conversations in the Driver household about the teeth Wendy will have pulled. Wendy is disappointed to discover that she can’t leave her teeth that are pulled under her pillow for the tooth fairy. In addition, various explanations are offered for why Wendy’s teeth must come out. Mr. Fallon says she needs more room in her mouth. After the visit, Wendy was given her two teeth to take home. Both had large black marks on them. To our knowledge, no one in the family ever understood that Wendy’s teeth had cavities.
Incompletely
or incorrectly understanding the terminology professionals favor was a common problem among parents in the working-class and poor families we observed. It is one of many elements that contribute to these parents’ tendency to defer to, or at least silently accept, the pronouncements of professionals such as teachers and health-care providers. In addition to being uncomfortable with the terms school officials and classroom teachers used, most working-class and poor parents believed it was inappropriate for them to intervene in their children’s day-to-day classroom experiences. They expected teachers to shoulder the responsibility of educating children, and they presumed that if there were problems, the school would contact them, not vice versa. Still, the deference these parents exhibit in their dealings with school representatives often includes an underlying element of hostility and resistance.
DEFERENCE: HOSTILITY IN DISGUISE?
One area in which working-class and poor parents frequently disagree with educators involves discipline, especially the advisability of physical punishment (this issue is examined in more detail in the next chapter). The emphasis schools place on verbally negotiating problems strikes many of these parents as misguided, at best. Wendy’s mother is no exception. In fall of the fifth grade, when Wendy is troubled by a male classmate, Ms. Driver (and Mr. Fallon) advises her to take matters into her own hands:
When I ask what Wendy’s new teacher is like, Debbie says, “She seems nice.” Mack says, “There is a boy pulling her hair; he sits behind her.” Debbie repeats, “Yeah, there is a boy who keeps pulling on her hair.” Debbie says, “I said, punch him.” Mack elaborates, “Yeah. Hit him when the teacher isn’t looking. That will take care of it.”12
There are deeper reasons for working-class and poor parents to mistrust the judgment of classroom teachers and school staff but not to openly challenge them. The school, as an institution, is an official representative of the state. In practical terms, that means that if school officials have any reason to suspect that a student is in any kind of danger at home, they can take steps to have that child temporarily removed from his or her family. This gives school representatives an enormous power over parents, an imbalance that, reasonably, they both deeply resent and greatly fear.
One night, after our regular visits had finished, Ms. Driver tells me that they took Wendy to the hospital because her wrist was sore.13 Ms. Driver had not thought this soreness was anything to worry about, but she felt compelled to have Wendy examined by a doctor.
Every time the school sends something home, I am worried if I don’t do something about it that they’ll report it and DHS [Department of Human Services] will come and take my kids away. So, even though I knew it was nothing, I took her to the hospital to have them tell me it was nothing. Mack amends, “To tell you it was a strain.”
Ms. Driver explains:
They send you this big card, and even though I’m her mother, I feel that the school—if you don’t do something—that they will report you. And they’ll come and take your kids away.
The hospital visit was covered by Ms. Driver’s insurance, but it was expensive and inconvenient:
It cost four hundred and ten dollars. I came home at five, and—(Mack interrupts) “We had to go get my Mom.” Debbie, explaining, says, “We had to go get his mom to watch Valerie,” and then continues, “We took her up and waited and waited and waited.” Mack recalls, “I said, ‘If it isn’t broken, then I am going to break it myself.’” Debbie repeats, “It cost four hundred and ten dollars to tell me what I already knew.”
To make matters worse, “the school,” vested with an overbearing authority, often seems as likely to get things wrong as right. In Ms. Driver’s experience, school nurses not only exaggerate nonexistent problems but fail to recognize real emergencies. When Willie, for example, was in a collision at school, the nurse said “not to worry” and that she thought he would need “some butterfly stitches.” But Willie had a huge gash over his eye that required twenty-eight stitches. For Ms. Driver, the conclusion is obvious: school nurses are not to be trusted. They fuss too much over minor matters and do not accurately convey the severity of major matters. In lumping into a single unit nurses in two different schools, ministering to children of different ages and sexes, Wendy’s mother demonstrates a common tendency among working-class and poor parents to merge authority figures into one indiscriminate group. Thus, classroom teachers, resource teachers, librarians, and principals are usually all referred to as “the school.”
Ms. Driver resents having to take Wendy to the hospital for what she believes is a ridiculous complaint. It is, however, her only sure way to stave off possibly arbitrary and capricious but nevertheless very real threats of coercion from professionals in a position of power. The inconvenience and expense of the hospital trip is small compared to the huge risk that “they” might come and “take your kids away.” Other working-class and poor parents voiced similar anxieties and shared the same feeling of distrust with school officials.
DISCUSSION
Daily life for Wendy Driver (and her brother) followed much the same pattern we observed with Tyrec Taylor, Katie Brindle, and Harold McAllister. The Driver children had vast amounts of leisure time that they spent hanging out with cousins, watching television, helping with household chores, and visiting grandparents. There were firm directives that shaped their actions but also much room for autonomous decision making. The overall cultural logic of child rearing in the family seemed to be the accomplishment of natural growth. The only significant deviation was that Wendy’s mother had enrolled her in three organized activities. But this seemed less an effort on her mother’s part to expose Wendy to a range of life experiences than a means of protecting her from the street. Although Wendy enjoyed two of the three activities, these did not dominate her leisure time or alter the rhythm of her family life.
Wendy’s school situation was extreme in some respects, since even at Lower Richmond, where test scores are routinely in the bottom quartile nationally, most children have learned to read by third grade. In other respects, however, her situation was not unusual. Ms. Driver, like other working-class and poor parents, believed she was doing all she could to help her daughter succeed in school. Wendy’s teachers, however, defined the meaning of parental support differently. The educators advocated a version of concerted cultivation. They longed for an idealized world wherein parents were energetic and took a leadership role in monitoring their children’s schooling but always stopped considerably short of the kind of intervention the Kaplans undertook when they objected to the music teacher’s choice of songs for the school holiday program. Teachers like Mr. Tier and others did not want parents to be deferential and reactive. They sought an approach that was a contradictory blend in which parents were actively involved and consciously responsible for guiding their children’s school experience but were still polite, compliant, and supportive of educators’ programs. It would be only in situations where differences of opinion arose that parents would immediately defer to the wisdom of educators.
Although the Lower Richmond staff did not acknowledge (and may have been unaware of) the role of social class in shaping their ideal vision of how parents should interact with the school, their wishes amounted to a mandate for concerted cultivation. Mr. Tier’s expectation that Ms. Driver “beat him on the head” and take a more aggressive role in guiding Wendy’s education presupposed a set of educational and social skills not typically possessed by working-class mothers with high school educations. To match Ms. Marshall’s actions, for example, Wendy’s mother would have had to engage in extensive discussions about the substantive nature of her daughter’s educational problems. This in turn would have required a familiarity and facility with terminology such as “auditory reception,” “language arts skills,” and “decoding skills,” jargon far more specialized and complex than the term “tooth decay,” whose true meaning apparently had escaped Ms. Driver. And, even had she strengthened and expanded her vocabulary, she still would have needed confide
nce in her ability to reconcile the conflicting views of Wendy’s teachers. In a situation with many uncertainties, confronted by experts who did not agree about the best course of action, Ms. Driver would have needed a bedrock faith in herself as the person best able to determine the right course of action for Wendy. She would have needed to set aside any worries about making mistakes and have been willing to define her intervention as being as valuable, and possibly more valuable, than what would have happened had Wendy’s education been left to the school staff only.
In other situations, such as with the cable company and her landlord, Ms. Driver displayed exactly this sense of certainty. She identified certain actions on the part of others as unacceptable and persisted as long as necessary to achieve her goals. She demanded responses from these providers. But, intimidated by the professional expertise and authority of school personnel, she did not make similar demands with educators. She did not, for example, pressure the school to review Wendy’s situation more rapidly (in third grade) or push to have her daughter placed in full-time special education (in fourth grade) or insist that Wendy not be promoted (at the end of fourth grade). Instead, she worried, waited, and wondered what “the school” would do next.
CHAPTER 11
Beating with a Belt,
Fearing “the School”:
Little Billy Yanelli
The therapist that day . . . he says well you realize that me being a therapist and working for the state or whatever that if I find out you’re beating your child that I have to report that.
Now I go through different phases with Billy. I want to be the kind of parent that never hits my kid and everything but Billy gets so out of control that maybe he does need it once in a while. (Ms. Yanelli)
Unequal Childhoods Page 29