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Debates on multicultural education
Black Stereotypes as Reflected in Popular Culture
Black Stereotypes as Reflected in Popular Culture
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Personal Narrative When you live in a sheltered household and go to a strict Christian based private school, there are some subjects that aren’t taught to the full extent sp you wouldn't be aware of the negative aspects of the actions and/or words that are said to you. Growing up, there are some words and sayings that you can keep or just let it fly past you. But for some reason, there was a word that had stayed with me for a long time and it wasn't until I was eighteen, taking a class at the time when I lived there to realize it’s meaning. Recalling the moment it was around my seventh or eighth grade year. I was working on a math assignment that I was struggling on. Now, I was wearing a bandana at the time since why not? But as I worked, one of the teacher’s who was temporarily watching the class came up to me and asked me infront of everyone who was at the table asking how come I came to school looking like an Aunt Jemima. Not knowing the full meaning, I was confused but for an apparent reason, I felt offended. But I didn’t say anything about it for I already dealing with personal problems that had affected me. …show more content…
I had moved to Boston temporarily to help take care of my grandmother for a couple of month and I decided that I should at least take a class there on which I did. The class I took was a multicultural class and while we were having a discussion he was bringing up words that are used against blacks which heavily degraded them. As he was naming the words and telling the meaning, the word ‘Aunt Jemima’ came up and I looked a tad bit confused. So I questioned it and also brought up my experience from around the 7th to 8th grade. To be honest, I never had seen a teacher get so upset. And I don’t blame him. Aunt Jemima was a derogatory name for a black female, it was literally calling them a mammy. Now personally I would explain it but it’s one of the words that I personally despise with a
Chapter 2 begins with a quote from Matthew 2:12 stating “But when they returned to their own land, they didn’t go through Jerusalem… for God had warned them in a dream to go home another way.” Ladson-Billings uses this as an analogy for the subpar “conventional” instruction that teachers receive concerning African American children in their teacher preparation programs and from their administrators, and how following those instructions would ultimately lead to the “intellectual death of the child.”
An analysis of “Salvation” Langston Hughes, in his essay “Salvation” writes about his experience as a young boy, at the age of 12, where he finds himself being inducted into a local church. An analysis of Hughes’ essay will describe and elaborate on both emotional and social pressures. He reaches out to an audience of adults find themselves in the position to influence a child’s thoughts, or ideals. Hughes’ message to the reader is that adults can easily manipulate a child’s ideals by pressuring them into doing something they do not truly wish to do.
Slavery, the “Peculiar Institution” of the South, caused suffering among an innumerable number of human beings. Some people could argue that the life of a domestic animal would be better than being a slave; at least animals are incapable of feeling emotions. Suffering countless atrocities, including sexual assault, beatings, and murders, these slaves endured much more than we would think is humanly possible today. Yet, white southern “Christians” committed these atrocities, believing their behaviors were neither wrong nor immoral. Looking back at these atrocities, those who call themselves Christians are appalled. In Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, Written by Herself, Harriet A. Jacobs describes the hypocrisy of Southern, Christian slave owners in order to show that slavery and Christianity are not congruent.
From emotionally captivating sermons to the harrows of a Christian school, Richard Wright’s childhood consisted greatly of the Christian church; despite this, Richard never became an authentically pious individual. In Wright’s Black Boy, an autobiographical bildungsroman which follows the renowned author from childhood to adolescence, religion isn’t as central to the story as the motifs of Southern racial relations or poverty per sé. Richard’s main reactions with religion occur in his late childhood and early teen years with his Grandmother’s conservative and limiting views, his forced baptism in the Methodist church, and his horrid Christian schooling with his aunt, so it’s no wonder that he never fully committed. However, the absolutes upheld
My mom, with her camera in her hand, was so excited that she lined up at the front of the church one hour earlier to get a good seat at one of the church pews. Dressed in a shepherd costume, I sang the opening to the musical piece “Will You Be Ready for the Light” by Mark Patterson. On my way back to my seat, I experienced linguistic discrimination, the judgment about a person’s intelligence, social status, or character based on his or her use of language, for the first time in my life. My fourth grade classmate at the time probably did not even know that what she said was a form of discrimination and microaggression. To be honest, I also had no clue about what F.O.B. meant until I researched it in google and found that it meant “Fresh Off the Boat”, a phrase to describe the new immigrants who were not yet accustomed to the American
The Christian belief transpires as a prominent role in the short story “Salvation” By Langston Hughes and the novel Black Boy By Richard Wright. Both pieces of literature endeavor to convey the dichotomy present in the Christian church; furthermore, turning all its attention to the young African American male experience in the Church versus the rest of the African American population. In both the novel and short story the narrators’ struggles to conform to society deliver the reader to understand the pains of growing up. Just when the reader deems both the narrators as finally understanding the role of religion as being a virtue, it then becomes superficial. To young African American males, church was just hypocrisy. From the essence of both stories it is evident that both Richard and Langston have been secluded in a place that conforming to society is the only way out; moreover in their efforts to become what society wants them to be their adolescence plays a major role in their discovery, pain, and definitive loneliness; ultimately leaving them as not only the betrayer but the betrayed in society and the Christian religion.
... at work. My coworkers saw it as a sign of weakness and proceeded to make fun of my sensitivity for the rest of my employment. They were unaware of how their comments affected me and therefore had low emotional intelligence. Eventually, my emotions were building up inside of me and I did not want to have an angry outburst, therefore I decided to quit my job.
One look at this word in today’s society causes a different feeling for every individual. Racism is discriminating against someone for the color of their skin. One of the main reasons this book is targeted as inappropriate is the fact that it uses the word “nigger”. Of course in today’s society this word has many different variations and meanings, depending on who says it. Before the 1950’s, this word had no other meaning than “African-American”. To the people in those days, it was how they talked. Dana Washington is an activist in successfully having the book removed from school reading lists. She recommends the following substitute: “[African-American], I could have you strung up on a tree so easy it ain’t even funny.”(Lawyer guy). This would be an easy fix for an overprotective parent. Washington’s son did, however, say that his teacher was reading sections out of the book in class using “nigger”. Without proper discussion of the context of the word and how it was used in the time period, this word should not be read aloud to students in schools. When teaching this book, teachers should begin talking to their students about the word, and how it was appropriate for the time period, but not
It was at Cline Elementary in the 2nd grade during recess when I saw two boys walking towards me. I knew that one of the boys were named Nick and the other was his cousin. At the time, I knew exactly what they were going to do, and I was right. "So, how are you and your disgusting boyfriend.", he sneered. This was everyday of my life, "He's not my boyfriend!", I fired back, "We're just friends." Back and forth we spat out venomous comments to each other.
Depending on the context, prior experiences of individuals, and the social groups they interact with, some may regard the same action as deviant whereas others will not. Likewise, only those who actively practiced Catholicism viewed my choice in no longer following this pathway as deviant; with the individuals in my life who practiced a different religion or who identified as atheists, I was not categorized as a deviant member of society. During my final year at St. Joseph’s Catholic elementary school, my choice to no longer practice Catholicism became information that not only my peers knew of, but my teachers as well. As a result, I experienced biased treatment within this school environment, but specifically from my religion teacher Mrs. Brown who established an unfavourable image of myself based solely on my lack of religious
Growing up as the only child during this time period, my whole family was extremely protective and strict on rules, as well as on our catholic faith. My family ultimately did not really allow me to have much choice, yes I was given pretty much everything, however, my family did not allow me to do much. By age three I was on a schedule with my grandmother, where I had not only learned my prayers, but recited the rosary with her after lunch and the cartoons on PBS. Food wise, my father continously would reprimand me more many foods I would eat, and why to this day I do not eat them and blame my father. Around the age of two I had gone to Seaworld for my birthday and loved it, by three I would ask for it. However, I did not know it by name, but heard my family refer to the city of San Diego, so I called it San Diego in the best jumbled up mess I could. My mother heard me ask her if she could go to San Diego, and heard it wrong and thought I called her a mexican cuss word. One I will not write, but got her mad enough to wash my mouth out in the tub with a bar of soap. After she stopped, I was in tears and was saying I did not say a bad word, needless to say I was terrified to ever cuss till I got into high school. My mom tells me that apparently I was even afraid to talk to her, for fear that I would get in trouble. During that time I was always seeming to get in trouble. My cousin and me would go play in the garden and make mud pies, or “bird” baths or roly poly oly circus’. The bird baths consisted of plants from my grandmother’s garden, dirt, rocks, water, oranges, and bugs. There was thought behind every object and a buttwooping from our grandmother for making a mess. During this time it seemed all I did was get in trouble and apparently acted out. However, there always as a deep seeded fear to get in trouble, so
Only small units of civil rights and slavery were taught as if that was it to my existence and how I got to be where I was. I was always feeling like an outsider. My history was never talked about, and it made me uneasy. I understood Black to be a derogatory word; perhaps due to the fact that my teachers became extremely nervous and cautious when addressing my race, using the term African American. I never understood that there was more to it. I would only reference myself as African American. I remember the questioning looks and how my family taunted me because I was uncomfortable with the word. It wasn’t until high school that I started saying the word
She told my mother I would have a better chance of getting a greater education if we moved to Monrovia, because the classes were less impacted and had more resource. When we moved we left our friends, our community, our place we called home. I started first grade as the new kid; I had trouble fitting in at school especially in my classroom. My classmates could speak English fluently they spoke it so fast and with confident no one had stubborn accent everyone sounded the same except me. I couldn’t speak English with ease I felt socially disadvantaged. Due to the fact that I was a Spanish speaking girl in an English society, I felt like being different from other kids. I was terribly shy and hardly spoke a word at school in either language. I let my classmates and teachers think I was just a shy little Mexican girl because I was too embarrassed. I was picked on as a result, but was too afraid to speak up and defend myself. One day during back to school night, my teacher pull my mother aside asked something that I can never forget until the day I die. She asks her what was my nationality was I actually an American or did I come from Mexico. To have a teacher question your
“Why don’t you use your locker? You’re going to have back problems before you even graduate”. These are words that are repeated to me daily, almost like clockwork. I carry my twenty-pound backpack, full of papers upon papers from my AP classes. The middle pouch of my backpack houses my book in which I get lost to distract me from my unrelenting stress. The top pouch holds several erasers, foreshadowing the mistakes I will make - and extra lead, to combat and mend these mistakes. Thick, wordy textbooks full of knowledge that has yet to become engraved in my brain, dig the straps of my backpack into my shoulders. This feeling, ironically enough, gives me relief - my potential and future success reside in my folders and on the pages of my notebooks.
During my freshman year of college, I had met one of my best friends, who go by name Jill. (She lives in New Jersey and while I live in Pennsylvania) I found it to be strange that sometimes, it feels like we have grown up with one another but in reality we have only one another for four years and I couldn’t be more thankful. I can remember when we met at school as if it was yesterday.