When I read this week’s readings, I kept thinking of my interest in Ghanaian languages and its exclusion in the classroom. I could live on this topic for a long time. When Anzaldua says that when you can hurt her by talking bad about her language, for me, I think you can hurt me even more if you ignore my language. Although Ghana has approximately 72 languages, the dominance of English as the ‘standard’ of the ‘educated’ makes it easy for policymakers and educators to gear all learning in school via English literacy practices. Outside of the classroom, students live in environments where people speak various Ghanaian languages in the marketplace, on the radio, on tv, on the street, among friends, and family. However, in schools, their textbooks, classroom practices and D/discourses do not reflect that these multilingual practices. Textbooks are all in English. The teacher is supposed to speak
There have been English-only policies that required all forms of instruction to be delivered in English alone. There have also been policies where a Ghanaian language had to be used “where necessary” as a language of instruction from K-3 with a focus on having students ready to transition to English-only by Grade 4. At this level, it is considered inappropriate for a student to speak in a Ghanaian language in the classroom except in the Ghanaian language class. In Nelson and Rosa’s (2015) we see how language-minoritized students are expected to model their way with language after White linguistic practices even though White listening subjects continue to perceive their language use in racialized ways. Rather than bringing these students’ linguistic competencies in Ghanaian languages into the classrooms, it is ignored altogether. In Ghana, it seems the language-in-education policies create classroom environments that want Ghanaian language speakers to perform identities of English speakers (and this could be either modeled after ex-colonial practices or current Western norms). Students who can speak two or three native languages well but not English as well are considered deficient in the Ghanaian classroom. When these students’ languages and practices are not valued in the classroom, they do not see themselves represented and this can affect their learning outcomes. Telling them to speak only English, a language that they are not fully competent in, takes away their agency and voice in the classroom.
When you talk to any Ghanaian, they would not deny the cultural importance of their indigenous language but they would also tell you that because English is a language of power both in Ghana and the world it should be maintained as the language in education. While I am not advocating for English to be taken out of education, for students from Ghanaian language speaking homes to succeed in education, they need to be allowed to navigate and perform their language identities in the classroom.
After all, are we are educating English speakers or Ghanaians – Ghanaians are not just English speakers, but Fante, Nzema, Ga, Ewe, Hausa, Asante, Dagomba, Frafra, Sisala, Guan, Adangbe, Kwahu, and many, many more.
Your perspective on this topic is authentic and I enjoy learning from you and your country. When you first discussed you were taught in English, I remember wondering if that was just the school you went to, but now understand this is a common form of education in Ghana. I am curious to hear how this has impacted your identity and if you were aware of the powers in place growing up?
ReplyDeleteEdwin--
ReplyDeleteYour post is particularly insightful as I think about the Nelson and Flores piece. As you talk about Ghana and the way languages must stay outside of the classroom, I'm thinking about this concept of appropriateness-based languaging and additive approaches to language in the classroom. For example, there are many spaces now in US classrooms where students are taught that there is a time and a place for their language but, ultimately, code switching is required, especially when academic tasks are required. This is largely wrapped up in racing language and languaging race. However, it doesn't sound like Ghana currently uses additive approaches. This is my question--
The US has moved from English only classroom spaces to a "time and a place" for your language mantras (i.e., additive approaches) and now Nelson and Flores call for a critical heteroglossic perspective. Do you think that this sequence of shifts in pedagogy is required to get to where Nelson and Flores describe in Ghana? Would it be possible to skip straight to what Nelson and Flores describe? Is moving toward additive approaches in Ghana even reasonable based on your perspective?
Edwin,
ReplyDeleteYou bring as a powerful perspective to this week's readings. I especially appreciated how "ignoring" your language is hurtful. I think this adds another dimension to understanding Anzaldúa's piece about how language is someone's identity. Also your experiences of being required to learn English and how the indigenous languages of Ghana were devalued, reminded me of my extra read. McCarty talks about how Native American children were sent to schools and physically reprimanded if they were caught speaking their native tongue. (I believe Anzaldúa also shares an incident about getting her knuckles rapped for speaking Spanish at school). This "English only" policy played a significant role in why so Native American languages have vanished here in North America. I am interested in how people of Ghana work to preserve their native language when English is made to be the powerful and dominant language.
~Sarah
Edwin, your comment English being the language of power in Ghana and education reminded me of a story my grandmother tells. When she was an English teacher during WWII, the Japanese occupied the Philippines. Instead of allowing her to teach English, they required she teach Japanese. Each night, a friendly Japanese cook would teach her the next day's lesson. In light of our readings, I see this story very differently. The benevolence of the cook now becomes agency. The dominance of the occupying forces now shows that language is a tool for occupation and oppression.
ReplyDeleteI know that my world as a teacher shifted after TESOL training when I realized how important welcoming the languages of my students into the classroom impacted our classroom culture. I am still wrestling with the ideas in my blog. How I can either be a tool for whiteness or an agent “for contesting raciolinguistic ideologies” (Rosa & Flores, 2017)? I'm am definitely wondering what a liberation pedagogy might look like when it comes to language. How can I create a setting where students both see the strength of being multi-lingual but also understand (and access) the role language plays in power.