A few weeks ago, Wendy and I took a visit to the Heard Museum in Phoenix. The museum of Native American history has been around for nearly a hundred years. I’ve known about it, even used resources from their website for teaching purposes, but I don’t remember actually going there before. It was fascinating.
The ground floor opens with art pieces from various regions, and then takes you through regional exhibits and a section on the notion of “Home.” I was struck by the depictions of rites of passage into adulthood. Our modern American culture isn’t so great at rites of passage, but I imagine it’s a healthy thing for a young person to get formally, even festively, initiated into a community.
One of the exhibits I liked most was the collection of katsina dolls:
Traditionally, katsina dolls are used as teaching tools. They are the carved representations of the Katsinam, the spirit messengers of the universe. The Katsinam come to Hopi in the form of clouds, which bear life-giving rain. The Katsinam appear in physical form in Hopi villages between the winter solstice and the beginning of the monsoon season in July.
The dolls were used for the edification of young people, teaching them the ways of the universe and the right way to behave. There are over 120 of them in this collection. The dolls were created by various native peoples in the Southwest, most prominently the Hopi.
The exhibit that stayed with me the most was this one: Away From Home: American Indian Boarding School Stories.
Even being familiar with the history of the boarding schools, the display at Heard struck me emotionally. The layout is sequential and comprehensive. It was especially jarring to walk through this exhibit after spending time in the other sections appreciating Native American art and culture. Everything you were just admiring … was being forcefully suppressed by the U.S. government via “school” in the 1880s and into the 1900s.
Even some folks considered progressives of the time took a condescending attitude toward indigenous culture. One of the sergeants, I forget his name, believed the Native people to be capable of rigorous academic coursework, equivalent to the white man. He kept expectations high. And yet, respect for individual minds didn’t carry over to respect for the fullness of the individual. These schools operated on dual pillars of arrogance: the assumption of Western cultural superiority, and the belief that they could eradicate a people’s roots.
The students were often left in a world of social limbo. After attending a boarding school,
Students did not always fit in when back at their home community—they did not easily speak their Native language, and their hair and clothing were different. Trying to move to a city also proved difficult, with rampant discrimination and feelings of loneliness. Students had not been prepared to live successfully in either world—the world of white Americans or their home communities.
Boarding schools were forced to adapt, at least a little bit, to the culture of the Native people, because students didn’t submit to this foreign authority. Several accounts in the exhibit gave testimony to the resilience of students in maintaining, and in some cases strengthening, their cultural identities.
That cultural pride emerged from these schools is a testament to the human spirit. From a current description of the Phoenix Indian School, a cite now operated by Native American non-profits:
Though students experienced difficult situations throughout the school's history, many students had success here and have become leaders in our community today. The elementary building, which was completed and opened in the early 1930’s, later converted into a music building during the school's transition; this is where the famous Phoenix Indian School band rehearsed. The band played at many historic occasions, including Arizona’s Statehood celebration in February 14, 1912.
As a modern society, it’s hard to grapple with history like the boarding schools, but it’s essential that we do. We can’t change the past but we can step back, ponder it, and by doing so gain a clearer perspective on our shared humanity.
A blurb from the introduction of the boarding school exhibit resonates with me: “Cultural learning teaches individuals who they are, who their people are, and how they relate to other peoples and the physical world around them.”
Without this deeper coherence, education is sterile.
The Heard Museum is worth the cost of admission, and there’s much more to learn and ponder.
This upcoming ‘First Friday’ (Sept. 3rd) admission is free between 4pm - 8pm.
Another ‘Zona Substack
The Arizona Agenda launched two weeks ago, and I encourage my readers to check it out:
We want to empower Arizonans to understand government at all levels. So we’re going to tell you everything we know about Arizona politics and government, and investigate the answers to your burning questions.
Unlike this newsletter, Arizona Agenda is a full-time operation. They post daily news updates and articles during the work week and charge a subscription for full access. (Everything has been free to read so far during their launch.)
This story, about an Arizona woman who got caught up in an election disinformation campaign, is absolutely wild. It’s the kind of story you won’t read in any other publication.
Likewise, this story, about the political drama engulfing school boards across the state, is written with a nuance and insight that can’t be found anywhere else.
Another story in the Arizona Agenda that you can’t find anywhere else is this piece written by yours truly, about the downfall of the #RedforEd movement and what it means for the state in terms of school funding. I’ve mostly stayed away from politics in this newsletter, but that piece addresses the political dynamics square on. Many thanks to the publishers of Arizona Agenda, Hank and Rachel, for editing and running my thoughts on this important topic.
Cholla Express readers already know I’m a huge fan of Substack as a platform. I love the direct connection to a reader base, without algorithms or advertisements. It incentivizes better writing.
Substack as a company is investing in local journalism, which is how the Arizona Agenda launched — the founders applied for and won seed money through the inaugural Substack Local initiative.
I’m rooting for the success of this new publication, and this new business model.
Links and News
From the Arizona Republic: Phoenix's wettest monsoon so far since 2008 brings greenery, bugs and mushrooms
Cool Netflix documentary: College Behind Bars — a docuseries about exactly what the title says. So far I’ve been fascinated by the scenes of college professors teaching classes with the inmates. The clips of the class discussions alone would be enough for me to watch. This docuseries is about the justice system and the individual stories, but it’s mostly about the “transformational power of education.”
When I write about education, I’m often critical of standardized testing. When people defend standardized testing, they often talk about how it holds schools “accountable” and provides an objective measurement of learning or aptitude. My response is that, while this could be true, and while I don’t object to tests for aptitude, the state tests we currently use are horribly conceptualized. They don’t measure the outputs I value in education.
Consider this recent headline: Students' proficiency in math, English falls in Tucson and across state
Most public schools are designed, from the top down, with the goal of scoring well on these state tests. Obviously, when schools are disrupted for a year, test scores will go down. To me, these test results are tangential to what we should care about. Schools should decide their own curriculum, and principals should hold teachers accountable for execution and assessment. Excessive focus on state testing distracts from good teaching.
Paring down state testing doesn’t mean reducing academic rigor. It could actually increase academic engagement across the board.
To see what I mean about authentic instruction, I refer you to this short thought experiment I wrote a few years ago: What if Socrates Taught High School?
Downtown Phoenix. “The Conscience of the Council.” Calvin C. Goode 1927 - 2020. @isaac.caruso, @jesse.yazzie
Final Thoughts
This newsletter started out as a monthly project, and then lost all connection to time when I changed gears and started sending out occasional single-topic posts. While I’m never going to reach perfect consistency given the constraints of my day job, my goal is to start posting twice per month.
As always, feel free to leave a comment on any of the posts. To browse the Cholla Express archives, click here. If you reply to this email, it will show up in my inbox. Any thoughts, feedback or suggestions are much appreciated. I’ve received several thoughtful emails since launching last summer, so thank you.