You're probably right about the demoralizing effects of an assumption of incompetence - i wasn't entirely happy with my earlier characterization, but i'm also not happy with your alternative assumption of competence. Perhaps it would be clearer if the word incompetence was replaced with the concept of "neutrality" or something to that effect. There is no assumption of incompetence prior to the taking of a driving license, since the diagnostic has not yet been administered. Perhaps a similar mentality would work with parenting? For the record, I use this analogy only for ease of visualization, not because I believe the nuances and emotional processes associated with raising children are comparable to those associated with the act of driving a car.

It Takes Community

I really like this idea: "For a cultural change to happen members of the community can and should get involved in helping others where they may fall short, while encouraging parents to take ownership." - I think this perfectly sums up the right approach, however I'm not sure you can resolve it with your earlier point that "There are some things that a decent human being (let alone a parent) should never allow another to go through" without stepping outside the realm of inherent and unconditional rights (which is probably a more accurate phrasing of what I meant by "natural rights"). The messy question at the bottom of this, in my view, is whether we should assume parents are absolutely competent until they prove otherwise, or initially approach them as participants in a team of child-raisers who are entitled to take the dominant decision-making role whenever they are able to. I think the rhetorical similarity between the first position and the criminal law doctrine of "innocent until proven guilty" explains much of social resistance to the latter position - we tend to view an assumption of weakness or finite competence as equivalent to an assumption of fault, when as every educator knows it's really the start of a dialogue rather than the end.

I envisage a policy similar to drivers licenses, albeit with a "bundle of sticks" approach to defining competency rather than the more binary system of license/no-license. We set the starting position at assumption of incompetence, but simultaneously acknowledge the desirability of self-autonomy and construct a supportive (rather than judgmental) educational-licensing scheme that strives to ensure everyone who wants to and is able achieves competence. This is the very essence of paternalism ("maternalism," perhaps?), but most accept its wisdom in the context of restricting access to public roads to those who have already passed minimum competency standards. Presumably, this is due to the high levels of risk involved in driving, to others as well as one's self. But why is this risk greater than in the case of child-rearing? One ton metal boxes that can move at 100mph can be dangerous, but hardly more so than eighteen years of neglectful parenting. I fail to see why we protect victims of the latter less than the former simply because the victim and perpetrator come from the same bloodline.

A few years ago Bill Cosby publicly addressed what he viewed to be the ills of education in black America. His words were greeted with a backlash. Many African-Americans believed he was a traitor and unqualified to speak of a type of life he knew nothing about, others believed his comments were an example of a double standard. Bill Cosby's ultimate message was that African-Americans needed to "take the neighborhood back", an interesting concept that extends to your point. Bill Cosby's call for action was a call to a collective, not to individuals. I believe we begin a dangerous game when a community remains silent and allows parents to feign ignorance. Although so much of parenting and a communities culture is learned behavior (i.e. fear in the system), at what point does the cycle end?

Thank you for this personal and insightful piece. I am curious as to your thoughts regarding the role of community in not only child development, but in parenting itself. As i discuss with colleagues and friends about children and ideas for improving the social bonds that form the basis of communities, I regularly come across a mentality that parenting is a "natural right," and that the best thing that society can do is provide basic support and step back to allow parents to "fulfill their role" as the guides of their children's lives. For me, this idea that every person (or couple) is naturally born with the all skills required to parent is as equally flawed as the idea that children can be lifted out of their conditions by education alone. But how can we expect parents to reach out an ask for help when they need it if society is simultaneously telling them that good parents should be able to do it without any help? When state child services only become involved in cases of abuse and neglect, what incentive does any parent have to reach out for help to any public system? The fear of being labelled "negligent" or losing one's child after reporting an problem at home is hardly unjustified when ACS and/or DHS devote their services almost exclusively to responding to allegations of poor parenting, rather than developing an ongoing dialogue with parents of all demographics and competencies.

Unearthing Myths about Urban Education, Unveiling The Power of the Family

Introduction

The Myth of American Success

Newark as a Case Study

After graduating from college, I chose to return to Newark to teach and try to remain engaged in the community that once provided a refuge. I accepted my position dreaming up my own notions of what problems impeded progress in urban education: lack of funding and little opportunity. As an Abbott district, Newark Public Schools spent around $20,000 on students when I was a teacher. There was no want of money from the teachers, but mismanagement of funds prevailed in Newark's education bureaucracy. Was I surprised to realize that what was happening in the homes of my students stood at the root of many problems facing urban education? Perhaps not. But I took my time in opening my eyes as if awakening from a deep sleep.

It Takes a Village

The idea that it takes a village is nothing new, but more than one village, I would argue that it takes a collective of villages, working together to protect the best interests of children. A village of educators, a village of advocates, but most importantly, a village of family. By allowing parents to be disengaged in the process, a great disservice is done to a child. Although a child may spend the day at school, at the end of the day and at the end of the academic year that child will go home. Our society has become sick with the concept that teachers can and should be expected to do it all. Parents need to regain their position of power in the home by providing a stable environment from which a child can build their foundation.

But urban families in America are in need of assistance. According to statistics from Newark Kids Count, child poverty in Newark continues to rise. The number of families on food assistance has increased to 33% and nearly half of Newark children grow up in families that do not make enough income to meet their basic needs. I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge the systems at play which have created a perfect storm to trap individuals into a defeatist position. The prison system, education system, even zoning laws and community planning have contributed to the disruption that urban communities face. Children are force fed defeat from the moment they are born. Until we acknowledge the flaws that exist at the most basic levels of society, no meaningful change can ever come.

Where shall we go from here- chaos or community? I choose community, I choose to disrupt the myth.

I don't understand why you want to spend 1,000 words arguing with someone who from your point of view has little to say. And I don't understand why you do so with so little actual effect.

The position taken in this eminently unimportant editorial is that education is a key to escaping poverty, and that if the writer were a poor child, he—being evidently a pretty good learner—would devote himself to studying his way out of poverty. Surely this is not only good advice for the writer, but also good advice, given by hundreds of millions of parents around the world, to hundreds of millions of poor children. Evidence accruing over generations, at both the individual and societal level, tends to confirm its value. People lift themselves out of poverty by getting good educations, and efforts to universalize primary, then secondary, and now post-secondary education have shown their value for societies as a whole from the eighteenth century onward. Moreover, given the general level of helplessness to affect most of their other circumstances, one of the few things children can do for themselves to improve their prospects in life is to succeed at educating themselves for skilled work. So the essay is trite.

Equally, of course, it means absolutely nothing to people who aren't able to go to school, or who once there turn out to be cognitively impaired, too hungry, too beaten, too frightened or too withdrawn to learn. One can say that in a sentence, as I just did. Though you go on a good deal about "factors which may limit the depth of interaction that children can gain from technology," in similarly abstruse language, you don't say anything concrete, provide a fact, offer a reference, or in any other way actually engage with the proposition you are advancing with odd implicitness.

Nor do you engage with the underlying social problem pointed at, however superficially, by the essay: in other societies around the world, children poorer and more culturally deprived than our country's poor work harder at studying, learn more, are better prepared for skilled work, and are beginning to compete very successfully for skilled knowledge-handling jobs in the globalized economy. What President Obama called "the Bangalore challenge" is very real, as practical acquaintance with Bangalore slum dwellers taught me, and would probably teach you too. Nor is poverty or white supremacy alone to blame: privileged American children too are surprisingly less effective learners than they should be, given all the "technology" of learning now available to them.

For the columnist, given his narrow individualistic conception, this is irrelevant, but not for you. If what he has failed to mention is that poverty sets obstacles in the way of learning, it is for you, given your supposedly wider perspective, to acknowledge first that even more intense poverty than can be found in the US does not extinguish thirst to learn in other societies' poor, and that the failure of US Americans to benefit from the intellectual attainments of the their culture is not restricted to the poor.

It seems to me that the best route to the improvement of this draft is to abandon the shallow object of your contention. If you have something you want to say about education policy, say it. Write a sentence or two that conveys the essence of your idea, then expand it to show some more of its bones and muscles, and consider some of the possible objections. Leave the callow to bury their own dead, and the clichés to take care of themselves.

Social Magic: Societal Myths about Educating Children Living in Poverty

-- By AbiolaFasehun - 16 Feb 2012

Modern social magic

On December 12, 2011, Forbes magazine published an online opinion editorial by Gene Marks titled, If I Were a Poor Black Kid. The article was written in response to a speech President Obama made about inequality and working to expand America’s middle class. Marks turned Obama's platform into an introspective piece on how poor black children can rise up from their unfortunate lives. Marks declared, "I believe that everyone in this country has a chance to succeed... Even a poor black kid in West Philadelphia." In Marks view, the key to breaking socio-economic barriers is for the poor black children of America to try their hardest in school and use technology to their advantage, "If I was a poor black kid I would first and most importantly work to make sure I got the best grades possible. I would make it my #1 priority to be able to read sufficiently."

Marks' article begins with well-meaning intentions, but ends with misguided advice that could be termed social magic. In Courts on Trial, Jerome Franks describes the concept of magic as a control mechanism that man uses when he is "terrified by uncertainty, or baffled, or trapped". When faced with a concept or problem not easily explainable, as a society, we cling to magic. Instead of approaching the problem by utilizing economics or statistics, magic allows mankind to draw inaccurate conclusions and create defective rules to remedy problems.

The title of Marks' article alone serves as an indication of the primitive lens from which the author views poverty. Of the over 13 million children living in poverty in America, 1 in 3 of these children are African American while 1 in 4 are Latino. Though minorities may be more readily affected by poverty, America's economic downturn has shown that poverty can no longer simply be categorized by race. When Marks penned what he believed was an accurate portrayal of what it takes to lift black children out of poverty, he failed to acknowledge the external factors that affect access to quality education and technology in America, thus making his formula one of social magic.

When the desire to learn isn't enough

Marks' first premise is that for poor black kids to succeed they must simply make education their number one priority. Marks urges that this can be done by the students aspiring to become the best readers they can possibly be. What appears to be sound advice for any child reveals itself to be grounded in misconceptions about what the author believes the reality is for students living in poverty.

According to the American Physcological Association, African American students that grow up in poor communities face burdens such as being deprived of valuable resources, being exposed to less rigorous curriculum, and having teachers who expect less of them academically than they expect of similarly situated Caucasian students. Children living in poverty, regardless of their race, often face cognitive and non-cognitive developmental gaps that persist into adulthood if not addressed early. Marks comments, "If I was a poor black kid I'd use the free technology available to help me study. I'd become [an] expert at Google Scholar. I'd visit study sites like Spark Notes to help me understand books." Although technology can be a valuable portal of information for students, there are external factors that affect consistent access to technology.

Marks remedy for poor black students, fails because he does not understand or does not seek to understand the factors that limit his proposition. Marks is correct in surmising that now it is easier than before to access computers whether at home, school, or a library, but the fact that a computer is within close proximity does not make it easier for a child to be able to interact with the technology in a meaningful manner. Inherent in poverty are factors which may limit the depth of interaction that children can gain from technology. Such factors include a child's role and responsibilities at home. Marks aggrandizes the access that students have to computers at home and in public institutions.

Technology as a tool, but not the solution

Marks does raise a valid proposal: that technology can be used as an invaluable tool to expose students to resources that can help them succeed. Perhaps the truth in Marks' article is that once a student in America can obtain access to technology outside discriminatory factors that can impede on the amount of knowledge one can consume are limited. It would be a stretch to call that access or the path to that access equal. In a nation in which we are just to the poor and kind to the rich, Marks does make an attempt to acknowledge societies preference for the rich when he briefly mentions that not everything about success is under the control of poor black kids, "It takes a little luck. And a little help from others."

In Courts on Trial, Franks discusses Bernard Shaw's differentiation between false and true ideals. False ideals are existing realities with their masks on. While true ideals are "the future possibilities which the masks depict." Only by tearing off the mask and the thing that is masked under, can future possibilities be revealed. As Shaw's theory on false and true ideals can be applied to the American legal system, so too can it be applied to prejudices about the American education system.

Through his own form of magic, Marks fails to give a just analysis of the social and economic impediments that society must first deal with before poor black students across the nation can relish in the freedom of open information. Before dispensing advice to poor black kids, it would be a just exercise if Marks were to take off his own mask.

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