So much of success in life depends on knowing how to play the game. If you know how to play the game, you probably feel it’s kind of innate. You might not remember, but you learned it somehow. If you are too smart/creative/free-spirited to buy into the idea of playing the game, but you somehow completed a college degree and pay taxes, guess what Thoreau? You play the game, too. Suck some marrow out of this one.
The game involves knowing how to talk to people to get what you want, to get them to believe what you want them to believe, to get them to trust you. It similarly involves knowing how to study, knowing how to prepare for challenges you may encounter, and knowing how to take matters in your own hands but also how to get help. You will need help sooner or later.
I proctored the listening section of the sixth grade state test this morning. None of my three students played the game. They were disruptive as I read the listening section which I can legally only do twice. After the section was over, they asked all sorts of questions I answered before the test started when I read the scripted disclaimer/instructions for that section of the test. Then one asked if I’d read the reading passage again for $50. The three students laughed and started to talk, which is prohibited. I was asked a series of dumb questions as the students toiled to write about a passage they listened to half-assedly. Not to mention, they had the opportunity to take notes and two of the boys hardly wrote anything. One boy couldn’t read the word “taught” in one of the questions. Another boy asked if I could help him with spelling. Did students not do sample tests? Did they block the test instructions I’d read mere minutes ago? Or did they think the nice female teacher would be compassionate and help them pass a test they will probably fail on their own?
Many of the students at I.S. 666 don’t know how to play the game. They push away some of the people who have their best interests in mind. (Shoutouts to the teachers out there, hey, ho). At the same time, they embrace the most magnetic negativity they can find. They express anger through dangerous explosions that hurt themselves the most. They invest most of their energy into fighting, condemning, jeering, following the tides of the crowd. They don’t think to consider, reflect, or evaluate until it seems like it might be too late.
It’s enough to make me want to slap a whole generation of West Harlem parents around. How could you teach your children to neglect their minds and souls, but covet their Jordans? How could you teach them that violence alone equals resolution and strength? How could you teach them that they can consistently devalue a resource, but one day expect it to be there for their benefit?
And then how can you teach them to blame me for their shortcomings?
