Sunday, May 24, 2009

“School Days” by Patrick Chamoiseau

Welcome to our blog! As you will see, we have provided a summary, character blurbs and a description of some themes – with several questions posed throughout. Feel free to answer one or several questions or comment on a classmate’s blog. Thanks for stopping by! J


SUMMARY


School Days is a captivating narrative based on Patrick Chamoiseau’s childhood in Fort-de-France, Martinique. It is a revelatory account of the colonial world that shaped one of the liveliest and most creative voices in French and Caribbean literature today.


School Days is a novel recalled through the eyes of “the little boy”, a young Chamoiseau, living in Martinique who yearned to reach a world outside his home, to go to the mystery place called school his brothers and sisters attended during the day. After much insistence, Mam Ninotte, his mother, the head of their household, agreed to let him go to school. His first experience with learning and education was enjoyable because he was positively reinforced as being “lovely, clever and brave” (p. 28). From this experience he felt his world had finally expanded beyond his home only to learn that this new world took him as far as pre-school. It was not until he attended primary school that he discovered how different his world would become.


The little boy’s experience in primary school was uniquely opposite to his experience in pre-school. We (the readers) meet the Teacher, a black Francophile man intent on banishing the children’s native “uncivilized” Creole and replacing it with the “universal” and therefore civilized French language and culture. Students were either labeled as pets or demeaning terms such as “shameless monkeyshines” (p. 45). The light skinned and fluffy haired pets were generally “Fresh-from-France” children who had already learned to reject the Creole culture from their parents. Regardless of their mistakes, they were praised for their efforts nonetheless. Meanwhile, the other students were punished, insulted, humiliated and beaten for lapsing from French to Creole. Any correct answer from them was begrudgingly accepted or ignored. A classmate of the little boy, Big Bellybutton, became the scapegoat target for the Teacher because he epitomized Creolity through his lack of proper pronunciation and “appalling” lifestyle. Nevertheless, Big Bellybutton, much to the awe of the Little Boy maintained his confidence and core-self through outside school activities more inclusive of his culture. To the little boy he brought hope and Creole-rooted imagination through his oral stories of magic, vampires, voodoo etc. – a stark contrast to the French images, examples and references portrayed in the classroom.


However, Big Bellybutton eventually lost his motivation to try, and resigned himself to the Teacher’s perspective, that of a barbarous uncivilized child. The little boy on a daily basis continued to internally battle with his identity in the dominant colonial French school. Paradoxically, through his own hunger and enthusiasm for words, does the little boy learn to love words and literature from listening to the unconscious love of language his Teacher brought forth during class. Without support or help from the education system, he cultivated a love for learning through his own intrinsic motivation and curiosity.


Question: Does this story matter to me and why?


CHARACTERS


Mam Ninotte


The head of the household, Mam Ninotte put up with Little Boy’s robust and super-active imagination, and remained a silent comfort to him, where he was able to “open up like an umbrella […] at home” (p. 132). She “seemed to confer supreme authority upon the school […and…] tended to the scholarly requirements of her children with such loving care that you’d have thought it was her sole purpose in life” (p. 74). She even tried to bestow upon him the potency of “slimy brain salad” (p. 133) to “boost the powers” of his intelligence (p. 132).


The Father


The father had a small yet a significant role, as he represented the silenced opposition (by virtue of the small role) to colonialism. He recognized the detriment of being ‘civilized’ and the propaganda infused in Eurocentric teaching. He was always reserved about colonial ‘education’, claiming that “you went in a sheep only to come out a goat” (p. 30).


Siblings


He had four siblings: Baroness, the eldest sister; Marielle, his second sister, Jojo the Math Whiz, the eldest brother and Paul the Musician. Baroness gave up her childhood to take on a providing yet firm role in their education while Jojo the Math Whiz was honest about the realities of the Little Boy’s experience with education.


Mam Saliniere


Mam Saliniere, a motherly, gentle, and patient Creole-speaking pre-school teacher represented the possibility of inclusive education. She opened up Little Boy’s eyes to a new world, stimulated his mind, and created an environment where his “enthusiasm was boundless, fearless, unquestioning” while offering congratulatory “Braaaaavo’s” as priceless rewards (p. 27). He loved her very much as she made school fun.


The Teacher


A black Martinician teacher assimilated into the French language, educational system, and culture, was on a severe mission to obliterate his students’ supposed worthless and ignorant Creole identity manifested in their speech. As a Francophile, he gave lectures on Alexander, Napoleon, and European fairy-tales, painting foreign pictures of snow and apples, as he rrrrrolled his R’s. He claimed the superiority of Western civilization declaring it as the Universal Order. He “bestowed his commendations, ridiculed mistakes, passed judgment” and used education to discipline (p. 119). His strictness and austerity can be interpreted as a defense mechanism to his insecurities – he was, afterall, Creole himself. The angrier he got at his students’ Creolity, the more his own Creole betrayed him. “In his frustration, the Teacher himself might relapse into Creole …but he’d catch himself in a flash…and his flickering language would grow even more painstaking, guarded, distrustful of itself…in his desperate desire to be articulate, he embellished his speech by…multiplying his rs…” (p. 64). He seemed to hate “Creole more than ever, seeing in it the root of these evils, the ball and chain that would keep children prisoners of ignorance” (p. 64). But he “loved to teach” (p. 134) literature, which was “communicated to [them] quite unconsciously” (p. 115) as he “himself would quickly become carried away; forgetting the world around him, he would embrace his text with an enthusiasm tempered by vigilance […] because he abandoned himself to an author” (p. 114). This “loving regard” (p. 128) was passed on to the Little Boy, who was forever grateful to him for such a gift.


Big Bellybutton


Big Bellybutton became the Teacher’s scapegoat as he typified Creolity through crude pronunciation and lifestyle, despite his aptitude for math, which didn’t “jibe with all the rest, with his hayseed air, his blackblackblack skin, his kinky wool, his flat nose, his Creole accent, his complete ignorance of French vocabulary, his chronic tardiness, his sweats…It simply didn’t make sense” (p. 78). Although at first, “Big Bellybutton hadn’t lost his ability to smile [depicting] how secure he was in the core of his being” (p. 77), his strength was eventually defeated by the infused self-shame of his Creole identity inflicted by his fanatic Teacher. He was smart, but school made him dumb! Nevertheless, to the Little Boy, he was the preserver of the underground spoken language, and the keeper of the Creole legend, “a repository of memories” (p. 129).


Monsieur le Directeur


Monsieur le Directeur “more or less anesthetized all life” (p. 44), representing the all-knowing “Universal order” as he laid down the law which everyone had to abide by– including the teachers.


Substitute


Teaching the students for only over a week, “what he taught [them] shook [their] world” (p. 129). The Substitute was rebellious as he valued the Creole culture, discussing the ideals of Negritude, describing images the children could relate to such as changing apple/pears to dates, changing Gaul to African, and White to Black. “Without using Creole himself, he tolerated ours to help us understand French” (p. 129). Like Mam Saliniere, he too, represented the possibility of inclusivity of education. Yet although he “belonged to the opposition” (p. 130), “he never tackled either the Universal or its world order” (p. 129). Additionally, his impact was not persuasive as the Teacher’s discipline succeeded in silencing the children through his repeated message of shame and failure. “The permission to speak Creole suddenly made us feel ashamed, like a confirmation of our hopeless failure, a willingness to be kicked aside into the gutter” (p. 128). Even though the substitute tried to include a different teaching style and he “belonged to the opposition”, the children still felt that he “conformed [them] in the same way” (p. 130).


Question: What feelings were evoked as you read this story?


Theme 1: Culture and Eurocentric Colonization


With the objective of cultural hegemony, the Eurocentric mentality claimed to hold the absolute truth – according to them, they were the instigators of civilization, “the founders of History” (p. 121), the light to the existing darkness: “when the colonists arrived, there was light. Civilization.

History.” (p. 121). “Christopher Columbus discovered America…who had been waiting just for him” (p. 122).


Displaying ethnocentrism, the French deemed themselves as the only ones with culture, thus set out to acculturate the population of Martinique, who supposedly lacked it. Colonialization was hence justified in the name of education, a gift or “golden opportunity, hard-won, not to be wasted” on those “fettered by ignorance and stupidity” (p. 49). The superior race felt they had a right and duty of civilizing the primitive race. They filled “our heads with a world so far from our own…its hierarchies of colors that assigned the shades of our skin to ugliness, and danger, and evil…” (p. 118). This created a dichotomy between good and evil, black and white, Creole and French.


Question: How can two different cultures co-exist without being right or wrong?


Theme 2: The Power of Language


Language can be a tool that can inspire, educate and motivate or it can be used as a form of symbolic domination, or in other words, as a form of social capital. The way one speaks can shape social power and status; it can imply you are “civilized” or not. Simply by virtue of the school children’s linguistic ability, they were either a pet: “a Fresh-From-France kid would proudly rise and rattle off the proper accent” (p. 62) or an imbecile, “this ponigger talk gums up your minds with it worthless pap” (p. 61). This labeling defined who they were and shaped their identity regardless of behaviour.


This novel also demonstrated that meaning and power did not have to come from the written word. Oral or verbal speech is central in Creole culture. For example, “Everything that childhood holds of joy, happiness, true exaltation, radiant pleasure, delight, euphoria, serenity, milky ecstasy, blessed peace, beatific innocence was, at one time or another, pounded to powder by the hatchet of a bawouf” (p. 102). “The word bawouf was a fundamental part of an unwritten law” (p. 104). The children reverted back to their roots through language, as it has meaning and they identified with their language. “A special jargon flourished there, with its own codes, vices, and ceremonial expressions…[…]...This pecking order did not reflect hierarchy of scholastic excellence established by the Teachers” (p. 98).


Question: What is more credible, oral or written language? To whom?

Theme 3: Shame

Colonization occurs through individual and community marginalization. This process is demeaning, humiliating, produces shame and requires conformity. Through constant reiterations of the inferiority of the Creole culture, the children and the Little Boy grew embarrassed of their identity: “his little inner voice grew ashamed” (p. 65). The Teacher would shout, “you should be proud to have a name, you thoughtless boy, you should shout it out loud, because not too long ago, let me tell you, we were slaves and had no names at all. Pronounce it clearly!” (p. 36).


The school setting was used to discipline one’s citizens. School became the place where one “shed bad manners: rowdy manners, nigger manners, Creole manners – all the same thing” (p. 120). The children were simply “shameless monkeyshines” (p. 45) who had to learn to “speak properly and behave in a civilized manner” (p. 45), which meant one had to speak French, and only French as it was “the language of wisdom, wit and intelligence” (p. 64) and Creole was “the root of […] evils, the ball and chain that would keep the children prisoners of ignorance” (p. 64). Through this indoctrination and imposition of the Eurocentric view, many children would end up like Big Bellybutton – defeated, disgraced, ostracized, unable to “wipe out the failure of this childhood, these school days…” (p. 138) and silenced into shame.


Question: How can you help a student/person who has been defeated because a person in a position of power has shamed them?


Question: How much is learning, how much is discipline? Do you think the Eurocentric point of view would be as ingrained without the discipline and punishment? How is discipline used in schools today, and is it required? Is it effective?


Theme 4: Silence


Any opposition was silenced. Opportunity to refute was not given. Big Bellybutton’s competency with math and numbers was ignored, because it was not congruent with the Teacher’s ethnocentric view of him. “The Teacher decided not to call on him and, under the pretext of letting others have their turn, imposed on Big Bellybutton a silence that drove the child to a frenetic display of mute wriggling” (p. 78).


The Little Boy could not express himself in French because he hadn’t mastered the language, yet he could not speak in Creole either. “In an effort to spark discussion, the Teacher sometimes showed them pictures, any of which the little boy could have turned into a thousand words, but the Teacher had reduced him to a silence that only deepened each time he heard the now constant lament: “Oh, this Crreole brrood has nothing to say!” (p. 65). If the children spoke, their Creole identity would be exposed. “Speech became a heroic feat” (p. 63). “Opening your mouth had become a risky business” (p. 62). The Little Boy was hence, silenced.


Theme 5: Multiple Identities Exist in All of Us


At first, the Little Boy didn’t identify with anything but his family. In pre-school “he found himself carried away by an unfamiliar pleasure: the company of other little black children like himself (actually, they were multicoloured…but he didn’t notice), of the same size, height, and language, quick to understand him” (p. 26). But then in primary school, the Teacher crudely pointed out his Creole identity by contrasting it against something different, something ‘better’, namely the French identity. The Little Boy struggled to maintain his identity in an environment that ostracized everything he wasn’t. They children even “had policed one another. One dared not make a mistake in French. It was all or nothing. Better then to speak Creole than to falter in French and die of ridicule” (p. 65).


School Days is a double tribute to both worlds seen through the Teacher and Big Bellybutton. The Little Boy was able to acknowledge more than the fearsome and degrading side of the teacher as the Teacher simultaneously offered him the gift of words. Through Big Bellybutton, Chamoiseau paid homage to the spirit and imagination of Creolity while still valuing the literary French classics. “To the Little Boy, the Teacher’s books were like fountains of life, while the word of Big Bellybutton seemed often to take on… the aura of legend. …To you, dear Teacher, I owe my loving regard for books…. I’m grateful to you, Bellybutton, for your underground language” (p. 128).


Question: Does the development of identity require a ‘them’ vs. ‘us’ categorization?

21 comments:

  1. School days was a thought provoking novel that reminded me of the many injustices present in our school system today. Schools are believed to be places where our current society is reproduced. This means that the school system plays a dominant role in maintaining our current social classes. Thus, many scholars believe that if you come from a low socio-economic background school will ensure that as an adult you remain part of this social class. In the book, it was obvious that school served to oppress those belonging to the Creole culture in order to reproduce citizens who would belong to this “barbaric” social class. Although the students’ teacher at first felt that he could civilize students who spoke Creole by teaching them French, he easily gave up on them and marginalized them so that they too lost hope in themselves of ever becoming someone else either than an uncivilized Creole person. What was really appalling to me was that the teacher himself was Creole and he was one of the teacher’s who most detested those having a Creole identity. Why was he so prejudiced against his own “kind”? He himself tried to neglect his Creole identity, yet, when he least expected it would creep up. The teacher should be acting as a role model for his students so that they too can be inspired to learn and become educated. Yet, instead he insists in marginalizing those from his own culture and is helping in promoting the hegemony prevalent in society. He fails to realize that Creole is part of these students identity and that he can never eliminate it from them. Instead he should be using Creole in a creative way in the classroom, as the substitute teacher did, in order to help his students better learn and understand the French language. By failing to do this, he is just promoting the cultural and ideological hegemony that permeates society. Thus, in School days school was a place where you found out where you belonged in society and that it really was just for those elite few who looked, spoke, and acted in a certain way. Such a thought is scary. Schools are supposed to be democratic places where all students are treated equally and fairly. They are suppose to be places that teach all students that they can accomplish any goal they aspire to if they put enough effort to achieve it. They are not to be places where students’ hopes and dreams are crushed.

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  2. Repondeurs:
    Time brings us different times
    And leaves other time behind

    You have both asked some really good questions – why this story matters and what feelings it evokes is a starting point for me. I realized as I read Chamoiseau’s beautiful narrative how vital it is to be reminded of the remembered experiences of childhood –the wonder, intense fears, anticipation and mystery of the world all around. I know so little about the Caribbean , the history ,the rhythms of Creole, and the colonization- Chamoiseau takes you into the heart of that experience. The notion of language and the reminder of learning to decipher the codes used at home, at school, in the playground is a complicate and sometimes dangerous dance. How do children survive and negotiate these complicated spaces and identities? Why do we make it so difficult as adults? I am also intrigued about the differences and similarities between the colonized and the immigrant. Is this what is meant by inhabiting 'borderlands' - not being part of either cultural space? As an immigrant non-English speaker beginning school, I understood that 'the historical, linguistic and cultural memories ' that I brought from home must quickly be left behind because there was no place for them in the classroom.
    Growing up within two languages is the story of so many children . Creole was the language of ‘pleasures, shouts, dreams, hatred, the life in life. '(p47) French did not offer this range of expression and in fact any emotions or thinking required the ‘Mama-tongue that proved useless in school and dangerous.’(48)
    The earlier longing for learning, changes to survival and an awakening of the injustice, threat and damage that this place called ‘school’ could hold for his friends and for himself brings out the learner/dreamer. Our hero manages to stay 'under the radar' in the classroom discovering the love of the written word. It is the resilience of the imagination – (‘the yellow butterfly’ that floats through the class ?) that stays with him, long after the classroom experience has settled into memory.

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  3. Chamoiseau’s portrayal of the Teacher has reminded me of a few people I met over the course of my school and university years. I applaud the author for portraying the Teacher not as an utterly evil monster but as a person who is himself very much a victim of colonial ethnocentrism. I think that both critical and compassionate examination of the Teacher’s character could serve as a wake up call for all of us and help us become more cognizant of how we may be inadvertently involved in promoting ethnocentric values and beliefs on both personal and professional levels.
    I strongly believe that the Teacher’s painfully exaggerated identification with the mainstream French culture and the resultant hatred for everything Creole is borne out of his attempts to survive in the society (and belong to the profession) that overtly privileges only certain ways of being. It can be argued that it is the dominant societal discourse of power and privilege that compels the Teacher to adopt hegemonic cultural practices to the complete exclusion and negation of his own cultural heritage and identity. Even more tragically, he then goes on to force those exclusively ethnocentric beliefs and practices on his students thereby denying them the right to value their own culture and develop a strong and healthy sense personal identity. In my opinion, this speaks to the need for all of us to be acutely aware of how we deal with those aspects of our identities that are not accepted or valued by the dominant culture. In particular, we need to pay careful attention to how our own needs for survival, recognition and belonging may play out in our interactions with others.

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  4. I am interested in Irena's comment about our own needs for "survival, recognition, and belonging" and how that impacts on how we think, communicate, act, etc. A lot of what we dislike in others is a reflection of what we dislike in ourselves or what we fear we may be like. My sense is that the teacher in this story wished to be accepted by the domineering culture of the colonists for reasons probably related to his own insecurity, his wish to feel recognised and important. He probably fears that he is not French enough, and working in the school does little to re-inforce his new-found Frenchness (if I may have the liberty of inventing that term!) For example, when he is very angry, he blurts out in Creole (which is, of course, probably easier for him to express his emotions with.) The school and the kids then become the obstacle for him to feel completely French. It reminds him of (and brings out) this weakness that he has, that of not being able to fully shed his Creole culture.The more he beats the Creole out of the kids, the more (in his own subconscious) he will drive it out of himself.

    I am still fascinated by the question: How does a child educated in this social context become the successful writer that he is. It comes down to resilience and hope - but where does that come from? For this child, there is hope in books and reading, stimulated interestingly by the very teacher who made his school life a living hell. And also stimulated by his mother, who believed in the power of education and books. Why did the boy find the hope and resilience, yet Big Belllybutton lost it?

    It is fascinating to ponder how we can rise up out of dreadful social circumstances and context and find that path to success... At the same time, I am very curious about what demons haunt these people even in their apparently successful lives. Will this little boy, for example, ever lose the sense of shame?

    I am also more cognizant of the enormous impact that we, as educators,have on learners, and how we have to be reflective and aware of our own prejudices, needs, and fears as we embark on our work.

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  5. I really enjoyed this novel - a provocative and highly entertaining tale: lyrical, ribald, sardonic, funny. Despite the harshness of the narrator's experiences, maudlin self-pity, sentimentality and nostalgia are cleverly avoided. The ease with which the novel reads belies the profound questions and paradoxes it raises. Arguably, on the one hand Chamoiseau has fashioned an archetypal account of insidious cultural genocide. On the other, he has assembled an intimate and personalized account of a necessarily individualized childhood. But these priorities do not work at cross-purposes. According to Eisner, generalized truths reside inherently within situational specifics: "What one learns from a particular (case) one applies to other situations subsequently encountered." On first reading of the novel, I noted another curious paradox as regards the power of formal and informal language: namely, Chamoiseau seems to indicate that while Martinican survival requires a mastery of conventional French, Martinican integrity requires the perpetuation of Creole. It was only after further readings in other courses I came to realize that, in fact, this dichotomy is natural to societies and cultures interacting with each other. Moreover, linguistic influences exist in a kind of "ebb and flow" relationship rather than simply top-down hegemony (e.g. Think of all the Yiddish words that have entered in formalized English usage). As Native Canadian pedagogue Eber Hampton has written, so-called folk cultures shouldn't try to freeze themselves in moments of time/history as staid museum pieces. Language, evidently, is ever-evolving.

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  6. I also very much enjoyed 'School Days' - so much so, I may see if I can have it included on my syllabus. As Norm and others have pointed out so eloquently, it paints a vivid portrait of cultural assimilation at work.

    As I type this, I just had a high school class, and I am thinking about the forces of repression so brilliantly portrayed in the novel, and the forces at work in our schools today. We can see the power of the discourse in 'School Days', but as the fish in the pond of our own discourses we are largely unable to recognize what sort of assimilation is taking place around us.

    I think about a boy I have taught for a couple of years who just minutes ago sloped out of my classroom. He is an angry young man, quiet in class, drawn to angry music with violent lyrics, sullen and withdrawn, largely without friends. He is often mentioned in staff meetings as a 'student of concern', but he has been for years, ever since he was a little kid, and he refuses, steadfastly, to 'drink the Kool-Aid' of our strongly flavoured school culture. I am impressed by his determination not to give in to the generalized jollity and high achievement that washes through our hallways daily, but I am concerned, always, about his low level of motivation and his lack of connection to those around him.

    The world portrayed in 'School Days' is shocking and damaging. But it is also vibrant. It gives the kids something to kick against, even as it draws them into the morass of Euro-centric hegemony. By the end of the novel, the little boy has survived the knocks and grown to love books and language, seeing in literature 'an inky lifeline of survival' in the 'sacking' of his 'native world' (144).

    Our own world, paralysed by a constant desire to avoid offense, offers a weak brew compared to the bracing espresso of 'School Days'. True, damage was done. But as I see my student, hair lank, face blank, slip out of class to listen to God knows what punk band on his iPod while slouched in the corner of the locker room, I wonder whether our own sanitized and amorphous inclusivity doesn't cause another sort of damage.

    I wonder also whether, in protecting and encouraging students' voices and feelings at all costs we are not silencing them. The boy in the novel is driven to write. What do my students have to share? Where is their anger, indignation, hatred, love, spite and passion? What does the pale and silent boy - resentful of the endless group work and sick of raising his hand and tucking in his shirt - have to say for himself? Anything?

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  7. What a wonderful novel, so rich on so many levels, just like your questions ladies :)

    So, to tackle one: why does this novel matter to me, you ask - well because I can see a bit of myself in all the characters. I am the Teacher, little boy, and Big Bellybutton (to name but a few) depending on the day and the context. My struggle is how to balance my multiple personalities (one could say) and come out with the best from each. Oh yes and there is also a struggle to forgive myself and move forward if this dance, on any particular day, is awkward and stumbling (as many times it can be)

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  8. After reading this novel, I sympathize the school days that the little black boy (the author Chamoiseau) has experienced. As Chamoiseau (1997) describes, “the little boy just stood there and, like a wounded animal, began to wait” and “the child had to raise his arms over his head, lean against the wall with his legs spread, and receive two whacks on his calves” (p. 73). Obviously, the little black boy was abused physically by the Monsieur le Directeur, who is described as powerful, rude, strict, and fearful in the novel. In other words, the little black boy was abused by an unfair colonized and dominated French education system. To be specific, the school forces the little black boy and other Caribbean students to accept the French knowledge, culture, and language, such as learning French text, but ignore the Creole. The student would be punished if he or she speaks Creole at school. In order to survive at school, the little black boy realizes the notion of survival is “…learning to leave some space between what his heart felt and what his mouth said” (p. 75). In my point of view, the little black boy is struggling for looking for his voice and space in/between French text and Creole tongue.

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  9. I think Chamoiseau accomplished something real, honest and meaningful in his book School Days. He was able to identify the various personalities/characters that shaped his childhood, his person, his ‘being’ and ‘becoming’. He shares his observations with us, of each individual and the role they played in his story and the impact they had in relation to him. For example, Big Bellybutton’s character is crucial, he represents tradition, culture, he represents the person who takes a stance for what he believes in. He uses Creole language as a source of power in relation to the French colonizers he encounters. The substitute teacher provides an integral view of acceptance, the permission to express the Creole culture without judgement and punishment. The children did not want, could not, did not trust and/or were afraid to act on the offered freedom due to the discipline and punishment previously experienced. That being said, I wonder if he did not have a strong impact, so strong that Chamoiseau carried it with him to the pages of his book.

    His observation of the Teacher is so important. Wanting to be accepted is a basic need (some might contest) and to experience colonization, it is not an easy feat by any means. It is pain, death, change, torture, rape, murder (emotionally, spiritually and physically). What once was beautiful and powerful becomes the opposite – how does one adjust. I think Chamoiseau’s experience is an example of varying human reactions to colonization. It reminds me of my ancestry’s (First Nations) experience, trusting the French and English and having one’s culture stripped away. The experience resonates through the generations. The question remains, is there a ray of light, even in darkness. I appreciate Scott’s poem, it is a good reflection of how I feel.

    Villanelle For Our Time
    Frank Scott

    From bitter searching of the heart,
    Quickened with passion and with pain
    We rise to play a greater part.

    This is the faith from which we start:
    Men shall know commonwealth again
    From bitter searching of the heart.

    We loved the easy and the smart,
    But now, with keener hand and brain,
    We rise to play a greater part.

    The lesser loyalties depart,
    And neither race nor creed remain
    From bitter searching of the heart.

    Not steering by the venal chart
    That tricked the mass for private gain,
    We rise to play a greater part.

    Reshaping narrow law and art
    Whose symbols are the millions slain,
    From bitter searching of the heart
    We rise to play a greater part.

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  10. Thank you for sharing that poem Caro!

    I loved every moment reading and thinking about this book.
    To echo what many have already noted, the complexities and pluralities in the characters contribute to the richness of the text.

    While reading I was particularly struck by the teacher. I did not enjoy reading the passages about the teacher as it made me rather uncomfortable. This is most likely because of the role I play as an anglophone French Immersion teacher. My students are to speak in French when in class, although they switch the moment a toe is set foot outside the classroom.

    As someone who did her schooling in the french immersion setting, I was rewarded for speaking french and punished if I did not. While I was never physically punished I remember feeling ashamed at a young age when the teacher 'caught me' speaking english.

    I do realize that my situation is quite different as my maternal language was/is dominant and learning a second language is seen as an accomplishment, rather than continuing the devalue a minoritized population / language. However, the dynamics of punishments and rewards at an individual level are quite similar. If you mastered the teacher's accent and pronunciation, you were viewed as an exceptional student. If not, well, you had a lot of work to do...

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  11. This book matters to me because in a lot of ways I could relate to it—it took me back to my school days in Saint Lucia (locate only 30miles from Martinque) which were somewhat comparable to the little black boy’s. Needless to say I know what it feels like to be sent into the principal’s office to receive “licks” (lashes with a belt, ruler or piece of twig). I’ve received lashes on the palm of my hand and on my calf for spelling words wrong and not knowing my times table. I’ve been yelled at and called demeaning names by my teacher based on my academic performance.
    I knew what he meant when he said the following words; isalop, awa, mabouya, ayayayaye, kouli hair, the candy lady. I to had a collection of marbles and was quite good at the game. I have also experience a culture that looks down on its own language to promote another (the native tongue is French Creole but the common language is English). Yes this novel is important to me because it’s the first book I have ever read which so closely described my primary school experience in St. Lucia.

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  12. I couldn’t help but read the novel through the lens of Freire. With Chamoiseau’s first encounter with school began the systematic attempt at dehumanization. He in the most literal sense, had his voice taken from him. “speaking—to say something, give vent to an emotion, express yourself, think things over, talk for any length of time—required the Mama tongue that (ayayaye) was proving useless in school. And dangerous”(48). Language is used to oppress the Creole people. “Creole wasn’t used anymore to say nice things….It became the language of bad guys, thugs, and delinquent crazy buggers”(66). It is also interesting to see how oppression dehumanizes both the oppressed and the oppressor. “No one ever grew used to seeing him or encountering him during recess: it was always a heart stopper”(72). In forcing his authority upon the Creole students The director succeeded only in dichotomizing the group. It the lack of understanding between the groups that dehumanizes both of them.. This leads into an answer to the us versus them and the formation of identity. It seems that in the formation of an identity in an us versus them dichotomy is doomed to be a dehumanized identity. Understanding and speaking and hearing and being heard are all important to the formation of a humanized identity. I would also argue that it is impossible to have all of these things in s dichotomy. I would like to offer an I and We mentality as an alternative to the traditional us versus them mentality that has led us in the formation of our identities.

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  13. I wrote this quickly (unedited) as my R & I, but am not submitting it. Decided just to post it instead...

    Reading School Days by Patrick Chamoiseau was like walking down a harsh memory lane of horrible stories and traumatizing realities of my own childhood recollections. Initially I had a difficult time immersing myself in the text until I reached the ‘Survival’ chapter of the book. Chamoiseau (1997) writes, “ Surviving. Getting through it.” (p.74) This rang so true for me at the primary and junior levels in school, it was a matter of survival. Although the book discusses many different issues such as the racialization of blacks, disproportionate class levels and the different experiences of privileged and non-privileged students, I wanted to focus on how I directly identified with the stories told in Chamoiseau’s narration of School Days.
    Being an active youngster, I felt that I was always different than my classmates. Even in grade 1, I remember feeling as I was unlike the other students in my class. I enjoyed attention and wanted to show that I could have the right answer and receive praise for it in front on my peers. I wanted to be the ‘fresh-from-France kid’ to rise up proudly to give the right answer, but I would always end up making mistakes, being tricked, or failing, just like Big Bellybutton.
    I remember in particularly being taught about Noah’s Ark. The reason I remember this lesson so vividly is that I was tricked into answering incorrectly. Just as Big Bellybutton was tricked (p. 59) into answering that stealing apples was wrong, but mangoes was not because he did it, my teacher tricked me. My teacher knew I wasn’t paying attention in class. I was talking to a neighbor and she asked me, “Nicholas, do you remember yesterdays lesson?” I answered proudly, “Of course Mme.” She then asked me, “Then in our lesson yesterday, how many pairs of animals did Moses bring onto his Ark?” Again answering proudly in a strong, smartass voice I said, “Mme., we all know that Moses brought one pair of animals onto his Ark. I thought you were going to ask me a hard question Mme.” I laughed. My classmates also laughed, but in a different manner. I didn’t understand what the issue was, but I did know the students were laughing at me. My teacher asked, “Is this the right answer class?” and in perfect unison, the class answered, “NO!” “Well then I ask you class, how many pairs of animals did Moses bring on his Ark?” she asked. One of my Class mates answered, “Mme. We all know that Moses didn’t’ bring any pairs of animals onto the Ark because he never had an Ark. It was Noah’s Ark!” I was mortified. I wondered how I could have made such a foolish mistake. It was because I wasn’t paying attention and my teacher took advantage of that fact. I constantly felt the teacher had it out for me.

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  16. ...it was too long and needed to be posted in two parts... here is the other half..


    I also knew the scared feeling of being sent to the principal’s office or even seeing the principal as he shared the same features as Monsieur le Directeur. “His severity was absolute, unruffled, flawless…Why were you punished? Are you going to answer me?...you’ve come here to stir up trouble then!” (Chamoiseau, 1997, p. 73) Constantly having that feeling of intimidation and guilt. I may have done nothing wrong on a particular day, my homework was completed, my lunch was packed (which was an extraordinary feat as I always forgot it), and I would be eye to eye with my principal, petrified. His beady eyes, sharp nose and baldhead made me sweat. I was so accustom to see him if I was in trouble that every time I saw him I had a Pavlovian reaction; I would turn into a stuttering, sweating, blinking fool.
    Another element that I enjoyed as I could identify with it, was when the teachers would get to angry they would switch languages to yell at the students. I had a teacher that constantly told our class not to throw snowballs. Every day, he would police the schoolyard, looking for students throwing snowballs, and every day like clockwork, he would successfully find a few guilty students. It was evident that as every snowy winter day passed, he would get more frustrated and angry, and of course the day I got caught was the day he lost his cool. The snowball wasn’t even out of my hand when I heard, “Nicholas, get yourself to my room as fast as your legs can carry you!” in a very unfamiliar voice. It was my French teacher, who to this day never spoke a word of English to us. Just as the teachers would break into Creole and Latin when they were upset (p. 63 and p. 82), my French teacher screamed at me in English. It takes a certain situation to upset a teacher so much that they want to break into their mother tongue, and just as the students in the book, I was that exception.
    Being a ‘difficult’ student needs special and creative punishments. Just as Big Bellybutton needed a “tighten of the screw” (p. 70), teachers in my primary school had to come up with unusual and creative punishments for me. Like Big Bellybutton, I had to kneel in classroom corners, but even in that awkward position, my teacher felt that I was still distracting to the rest of the class. She felt that the most un-interfering place I could be put was under her desk. She put me under her desk ten minutes into the class, (I can’t remember what I had done to get there), and again just like Big Bellybutton, was forgotten about. She didn’t realize until she had dismissed the class, and was in the class alone when I called for her, that I was still there. She let me go and reminded me that if I were out of line tomorrow, she would permanently seat me under her desk.
    In reflection of his book, it brought back a few memories of my own personal experiences. This book reminded me that as bad as I may have had it in primary school, I was fortunate that I did not have racist teachers and switches or corporal punishment. It let me identify with the author’s experiences and reflect on my own. I feel that any literary piece that I can identify with and is engaging is a strong piece. I am grateful that this book allowed me to remember past experience I had and to be grateful for them, as they could have been in a lot worse setting.

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  17. Good question. Yes, in my opinion, the story should relate to us as others have mentioned, we all have had similiar experiences. As educators we also need to be aware of these stories and integrate their wider meaning into our praxis.

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  18. I'm sorry that I didn't get a chance to post this before Tuesdays class and that I unfortunately missed the summary/discussion. I think that this book presents so many different issues but most importantly I think that it provides a students view of ones teachers and makes us wonder... What makes a good teacher? Is it someone who is intelligent? Someone who is caring? Someone helpful? Or someone funny? Is it the permissive, authoritative or authoritarian educator that makes the biggest impact? Through Chamoiseau’s memories, imagination and descriptive narrative, we learn all about a child’s universal joys and disappointments of ones early school days. Through the eyes of a child, we are introduced to the life and Colonial education of a young boy in Port-de-France, Martinique.
    Mam Ninotte allowed the young boy to be free and do whatever he wanted. She was very lenient and there was little discipline coming from his parents. Mam Ninotte would be our modern day permissive parent. For the young boy however, he observed his siblings and became interested in school, he was curious about the things surrounding him and he developed an interest in learning through the things that he discovered.
    When the young boy was finally ready to begin “school” (even though it was preschool or kindergarten), his teacher Mam Salinière was more of an authoritative educator. She set clear limits and expected compliance but also took into account the child’s feelings, interests and desires. “She showed him strange images of snow and sang lilting ditties from Brittany and Provence.” Mam Salinière would punish for disobedience when “Mam Salinière lost her temper, raised her voice, and dragged the offender over to a dark, tiny closet” but would also allow the children room to grow and be creative. “School was fun, he was always in a hurry to get there. She made everything entertaining” (p. 28). In his first year of schooling “that universe centered around him, his enthusiasm was boundless, fearless, unquestioning” (p. 27). The young boy learned his ABCs, he learned to draw, he learned even to mix two colours together to make a new one. “Everything he did was lovely, clever, brave. The problem was that whatever the other children did was just as lovely, clever and brave” (p. 28). Mam Salinière encouraged the children and would be any parents dream of the perfect Kindergarten teacher.
    The substitute teacher “was a bit strange. He dressed quite youthfully, preferring baggy shirts to a suit and tie. He sported a rebellious goatee and bottle-bottom glasses over toadish eyes.” (p. 129) This teacher did not speak Creole but allowed his students to use their language to better understand French. The substitute teacher changed the stories read in class to help the class better make associations with the text, he changed White to Black, Europe to Africa. He would contradict the Teacher and what he taught them “shook (their) world” (p. 129). Though this substitute teacher was a breath of fresh air after their strict authoritarian teacher, “the permission to speak Creole suddenly made us feel ashamed, like a confirmation of our hopeless failure, a willingness to be kicked aside into the gutter.” (p. 129)
    The Teacher seemed more like a “cowherd” (p. 34). He was an authoritarian who demanded compliance from his class “A classroom is not a bedlam, gentlemen! Order! Discipline! Respect!” (p. 41). The severe Francophile Teacher, expected his students to be obedient and to listen to what he was teaching. There was little consideration given to their opinion or ideas. The Teacher was intent on banishing everything Creole, the language and especially the culture. He even uses Big Bellybutton as the class scapegoat to prove his power and authority. However, what the young boy did learn was a love for reading and writing. “A book to him was a phantasmagorical object” (p. 135) and it was obvious that the Teacher loved to teach, “When he lectured, he was addressing not us alone but the whole world” (p. 135).

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  19. Whether a teacher is permissive, authoritative or authoritarian, a student will learn that once you leave the confines of the school walls, there is an even bigger school that awaits (p.132). From Mam Ninotte, the young boy learned curiosity. From Mam Salinière, the young boy learned creativity and a love for school. From the substitute teacher, the young boy learned how stories and school relate to him. From the Teacher, the young boy gained a love for reading and writing. It makes one wonder… what kind of teacher are you?
    I certainly reflect regularly on what type of teacher I admire and what type of teacher I want to be.

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  20. This is prehaps one of the best novels I have read in a long time. I was totally enthralled and there were times I was close to tears. It was expertly written and the reader clearly got the message about the colonilial impact on education.

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  21. I have a question:
    In the story, who were the repondeurs?

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