Push, the first novel by performance poet and former Harlem adult educator Sapphire, is an electrifying and controversial novel about adult education and a stunning response to Welfare Reform. Educators have read the novel, but, because of its graphic content and objectionable language, the book has received limited use in the classroom. Yet, because of the overwhelming power of the text and its portrayal of a young adult student, some have found ways to incorporate the novel in class, taking risks and literally pushing the envelope by challenging themselves, their programs, and their students. Such risks, when guided and carefully considered, can have enormous benefits for learners and educators alike.
Perhaps few areas of education, whether it be kindergarten, high school or the university, find both students and instructors taking more risks than the adult education classroom. For students, "risk taker" may well be their best definition; most have made monumental decisions to add education into their already busy lives. Some have overcome seemingly impossible barriers simply coming to this country and finally making it to our classrooms to learn English. Other students must work through learning disabilities, many of which have been either overlooked or ignored in the past. Additionally, many women in our programs find themselves in the process of working through repressive personal relationships; evening trips to E.S.L. class or afternoon G.E.D. prep classes are often met with hostility because they provide women with greater freedom and independence for themselves and their children. These students often are taking significant risks simply making it to class.
In response to the difficulties students face, instructors&emdash;most of whom are under-paid part-timers or volunteers&emdash;must remain flexible and innovative to meet the diverse needs of their students. Rather than finding success with one-size-fits-all classroom approaches, instructors must often make risky decisions, trying new approaches to what they do and what they use in the classroom. These risks may include developing innovative methods to address multilevel classrooms, dealing with sensitive issues among a diverse population, and working with a variety of often undiagnosed learning disabilities. To add to these difficulties, instructors sometimes must meet program or assessment standards that often seem far removed from what they must do in the classroom to meet learners' needs.
Learner centered approaches in the class can provide educators with solutions. By allowing students to assist in choosing classroom activities and materials, instructors gain an invaluable resource to assist them in better addressing students' needs. In addition, students gain not only the learning they deem important, but feel like they have more of a stake in their program and more control over their education. Of course, a learner-centered approach means that teachers must surrender much of the control they have over curriculum content. Sometimes this means going into areas that students feel are important but in which instructors may feel less secure.
Using Sapphire's Push in the classroom presents just such a challenge. Published in 1996, Push presents the harrowing story of Claireece "Precious" Jones, a sixteen year-old literacy student who enters a Harlem adult education classroom to learn to read. Precious has worked through an almost impossible combination of barriers to enter the classroom. Pregnant by her father at the age of twelve and now again at sixteen, brutally abused by her mother, and ignored and passed over in a previous school where her teacher was instructed by her principal to "focus on the ones who can learn," Precious leaves the tenth grade without the literacy skills needed to even read a clock or street sign. Precious Jones' trials are described in disturbing detail. She enters a Harlem pre-G.E.D. class where she finds comfort and a new, more hopeful horizon by learning to read and better read the world around her.
Sapphire's character is complex. Precious is definitely not a simplified representation of an illiterate abuse victim who is saved by going to school and learning to read; the story ends with Precious daydreaming about how long she has to live with the HIV virus contracted from her father, "One year?, Five? Ten years? Maybe more if I take care of myself. Maybe a cure? Who knows...." She will most likely not be able to achieve her dream of a G.E.D. because, as her casemanager records in her file, the "time and resources would...be considerable." Under the regimen of Workfare, she is to be sent directly off to work.
Push presents educators seeking to find materials that promote learner-centered approaches with a wealth of themes; poverty, failing public schools, racism, neglect, abuse, incest and welfare reform are all present in varying degrees. Many learners can easily relate to the world of Precious Jones, but much of the content of Push, particularly the graphic accounts of physical abuse and objectionable language, are of concern to educators contemplating using Push in the classroom. (See the recent article on this topic by Elisabeth Hayes and Sondra Cuban in Adult Basic Education.)
In addition to sections of the novel that many may feel are prohibitively offensive, instructors must also be aware that such content, while having the ability to validate many of students' past experiences, may also cause students to revisit more traumatic moments in their past or even present lives. The topic of abuse strongly pulls us in many directions when considered for the classroom. We feel a drive toward affecting real change in learners' lives by providing students with a safe environment to validate their experiences and gain referrals to services that can assist them and their families. At the same time, though, we are warned off because of limitations in our programs or within ourselves. Instructors must ask themselves if they are prepared to open the classroom to such issues, and, if so, are there appropriate resources available to refer students seeking assistance from social services.
With these concerns on my mind, I cautiously began introducing students to sections of Push last summer. I felt that the book was too powerful and positively thought-provoking to ignore. I work in a G.E.D. class in west San Antonio, Texas. The program is part of a welfare-to-work program designed for women receiving TANF benefits. Students bring a variety of histories to class. Some have suffered extreme hardships and obstacles related to drugs, gangs, abusive relationships, and sometimes jail. They often enter isolated and understandably despondent. Others in class have had fewer barriers. Some have strong family support and have had only recent setbacks.
When I began using Push, I consciously began choosing "safe" sections of the novel that I felt students would enjoy and that would act as catalysts for student writing. Through creative cutting and pasting I was able to create an overhead of a section of the novel that recounts Precious's first day going to her pre-G.E.D. class. It's a very realistic, often humorous scene. Students loved the reading and it acted as a good trigger for students to write about their own experiences and fears returning to school. Emboldened by the success, I began to search for other sections students would enjoy. Reading aloud short sections of the book that I felt might be of interest to students, we spent a week working on writing assignments around "safe" themes in the book. Still, I found it difficult ignoring some of the more explicit and probing section in the book and was compelled to start incorporating more challenging sections.
The decision to read some of the more graphic sections of the book was driven by a student who picked up the book off my desk and began reading it during lunch. She ran across one of the sections we had not gone over and jokingly accused me of "censoring" the book. We began talking as a class about this material and the students responded that they were very interested in reading it. Some commented that it sounded like something they could really relate to. Experience stories, often very revealing, are a large part of our curriculum, but, oddly enough, I had drawn a line between the fictional experiences of the character Precious Jones and the students' own real-life experiences, which in many ways were often no different. I sensed many felt I had let them down by not trusting their sensibilities when, in fact, I was insecure about my own comfort level with the material. The validation of their voice allowed us to work through the differences in our perceptions and interpretations of the material and was an educating and empowering experience for all.
Using copies of my own and contributions from friends who had read the book, we were able to gather enough copies of the book to begin reading Push in pairs. Because of the often difficult Harlem dialect in which much of the book is written, I usually would read long sections of the book aloud after having students read it silently together. Working through the text allowed us to cover a wide variety of topics pertinent to my learners' lives; the faltering welfare system, abuse, diverse cultural issues, and the power and promise of education were just some of the themes we worked on in class as a result of Push.
Undoubtedly, our success using the text and opening up the classroom to more probing issues lay in the fact that students shared in the decision-making over the material. Because their choice was validated and their opinions factored in when deciding whether to tackle the more explicit material, students felt they had a real stake in the activity. Two students even ordered the book, no small feat for women on public assistance.
It should be noted that no one was forced to read the book or participate in the class discussions of it. While most students eagerly read the book, one student chose not to participate because the material was too graphic. In her journal she wrote, "After (I have my baby), I'm going to try and read this book. For right now, I'll have to pass." This freedom to "step out" and pursue another activity was one several students took at different times. Validating their personal choice and comfort with the material was a major factor in the success of using the book with students.
Perhaps no better indicator for assessing "change" in students associated with the use of Push can be found than by considering part of a journal response from one student, Jessie:
In reading this book it has made me feel better inside because it has given me courage after all these years to tell my family about "it". It being molested by one of my uncle's on my father's side of the family. In some ways it has changed me in the way I look at myself. I have learned to be more open minded when it comes to my children and have spoken to them about situations like Precious's. I've told them if anything like this were to happen not to be ashamed to come to Momma.
The risky subject matter of Push allowed Jessie not only to begin breaking the chain of silence between her and her family, but also to be more aware of communication barriers that may stand between her and her children.
While most students did not self-identify to the extent that Jessie did in her journal, many reported in their writing and our conversations that the book spoke to them on several levels. Another student, Cecilia, found the story also gave her the confidence to build stronger communication within her family. "I have been able to share my feelings with my family, Let them know what I did when I left home." Several commented that they found comfort and strength in reading a "survival story" that put their daily trials in perspective and made them seem more manageable. Julie wrote, "It has made me feel like things can get much worse than they are now, but they can also get much better if you try."
Push engaged students because it qualified their life experiences and acted as a rich catalyst for student writing. Student experience stories can be a powerful tool that may lead students to draw on painful experiences and recount them in print. With the assistance of professional therapists, instructors can play an important role as guides to help students shape their experiences and support their decision "to attach words to their 'unspeakable' memories." (See the recent article, "Strong in the broken places: Literacy instruction for survivors of pervasive trauma," by Ray Wolpaw, et al., in the Journal of Adolescent and Adult Literacy.) The approach is supported by psychological practice that often uses writing as a key element to recovery.
Because it was a story of a literacy student re-entering school, Push not only qualified the students' decision to return to school, but also opened up class activities that went to the core of many of their personal barriers. The story helped many have the courage to attempt to regain a suitable balance of power with their children, with their partners and, most importantly, with themselves.
Though fictional, Precious Jones' world was very "real" to students. Her progress through a precarious world full of significant barriers reinforced areas where they still had doubts. It helped give meaning to many parts of their lives that they had previously seen as only "mistakes."
Push encourages educators and students alike to take risks. The novel presents numerous challenging themes pertinent to learners' lives, themes which learners often must begin working through in the safety, support and risk-free environment of the classroom. Students were faced with intimate and painful issues which were revisited because of reading Push and began to write longer, more insightful essays and journal entries, sometimes closely examining issues they had held inside for years. Entries like Jessie's and Cecilia's showed students making positive changes outside of the classroom with their families and children. Other students said they enjoyed reading the book, but preferred to speak about these issues only with their families or a psychologist. One student asked me for a referral to a counselor who works with my students; she said she was ready to talk to someone about her experiences. (An article I'm working on explains the importance of building connections with local social service agencies who can professionally assist students with counseling services.)
Overall, taking a chance with challenging material like Push and working through the topics it introduces in class paid off for students and myself. The classroom community has become more intimate as students have found strength in their past experiences and common bonds. Reading about the fictional, yet all-too-familiar world of another adult learner, Precious Jones, helped my learners build a surer footing with their families and their children, and with themselves. Using Push was worth all the risks.
* * * * * *
Anson Green is the instructor of the Culebra Road TANF/JOBS class for Northside Independent School District in San Antonio, Texas, and a member of El Paso Community College's Project IDEA Master Teacher Professional Development Initiative. As a member of the Project IDEA team, he has facilitated a number of substantial, project-based learning activities focusing on women's lives, including a student-generated webpage. He has been a conference presenter on project-based learning, participatory classroom approaches and technology applications in the classroom and has published articles on adult education in both state and national publications.