September 11, 2001, wasn’t a normal day for most of us. The students at my Illinois high school packed into the library to watch the nonstop news coverage. Those in computer-lab classes kept trying their luck with CNN’s much-overburdened website. Administrators cruised the halls, looking for kids with relatives who worked at or near ground zero or the Pentagon or who were just too upset to [...]]]> By Frances Jacobson Harris

September 11, 2001, wasn’t a normal day for most of us. The students at my Illinois high school packed into the library to watch the nonstop news coverage. Those in computer-lab classes kept trying their luck with CNN’s much-overburdened website. Administrators cruised the halls, looking for kids with relatives who worked at or near ground zero or the Pentagon or who were just too upset to focus on school. Our principal sent out periodic email updates as he heard from alumni, friends, and families. One of our former students, a freshman at New York University, sent this report in the early afternoon:

Just wanted to let you know that the NYU people are okay. Starting from a few blocks south of Washington Square Park, the buildings and streets are being evacuated—basically all of Lower Manhattan, but we’re all fine here. Two of my friends actually saw both towers go down. I was in my room when I heard screams. Huge masses of people ran down the street, and on the radio I heard that the towers had collapsed. To be honest, I thought it was a joke, like War of the Worlds. Around where I am, I think the panic has subsided, but people are still really freaked out. Classes have been canceled for today. There’s actually an NYU dorm near the WTC, but we haven’t heard about the people there.

At the end of the school day, our principal sent an email to students, parents, and staff lauding their thoughtful responses to the tragedy. We’d try to maintain our regular routines, he wrote, but he’d understand if some families temporarily kept their children at home. “In our interconnected world, many in our community have friends or relatives who work and live in New York or Washington,” he observed. “Some still await word about their safety. The tears shed today are not likely to be the last.”

In the days and weeks that followed, our school became a kind of sanctuary. We held a memorial observance and continued to share our news through schoolwide emails. A few of those messages pushed the boundaries. One student circulated a Christian-themed poem called “Where Was God on September 11?” A teacher peppered staff emails with large images of American flags and other patriotic symbols. Given the circumstances, most everyone was tolerant of those responses. But one afternoon a small delegation of students from the school newspaper came to me to complain about the poem. They wanted to know why the system administrator (the moderator of our email lists) allowed it to go out. Not only was the message unrelated to school business, they argued, but the religious content was inappropriate. I will confess that as a card-carrying anticensorship librarian, I was somewhat bemused by their response to this particular display of free expression. But we had a good discussion about it.

Recognizing this incident as a teachable moment, the system administrator and I decided to incorporate it into our ethics unit for an eighth-grade computer-literacy course. Each semester, we post six technology-related ethical scenarios on an online forum. (You can learn more about this in my book, I Found It on the Internet: Coming of Age Online, second edition [ALA Editions, 2010].) As much as possible, the scenarios mirror real-life school situations or current events. The students first discuss the scenarios online, and then we follow up with a classroom discussion. The revised scenario (we’ve changed the senders’ names and other personal details) looks like this:

After the September 11 terrorist attack, many students and teachers send related email to the “all-student” or “all-faculty” mailing lists. Most of the messages contain information about the status of former students and about ways people can help in the crisis. But Penelope sends a long note with a heavy religious message. And Mr. Snidden sends out patriotic graphics and images. A small delegation of students takes their objections to the administration. They understood that these all-school mailing lists, which are screened by the school’s system administrator, were supposed to be used for school-related, informational purposes only.

It’s important to note that although all of our scenarios have a technology connection, they’re not necessarily technology dependent. In fact, this particular scenario is about a number of things that have less to do with email than they do with issues such as freedom of speech, separation of church and state, the role of school rules and procedures, and (in the case of the blast of patriotic imagery) political correctness. We also hoped the scenario would encourage kids to reflect on the events of September 11 and people’s responses to them.

We used this scenario each semester for four or five years. At first, our students were largely sympathetic to those email messages:

Although this would normally be inappropriate, under these extreme circumstances it is important for people to understand the ways others are dealing with the events of 9/11.

I think that it is OK. Under the circumstances, I think that it is reasonable. People that don’t want to see this material do not need to open it. Some people might need to know how other people think about it.

If there was disagreement among our students, it was mostly around the appropriateness of Penelope’s religious message. Hardly a soul objected to Mr. Snidden’s patriotic missives, as seen in the following responses:

I think that sending patriotic images to students is all right. I don’t think that sending heavily religious messages is good. It might offend some people depending on what the message says.

I think that it is perfectly fine for people to send out religious emails. Although it is bad if they are rude or mean, as long as they have a telling subject. People don’t need to read them.

I agree. If the reader doesn’t like the title of the email, they don’t need to read it but it isn’t a crime and I don’t think there is anything wrong with sending those kinds of emails.

In a way, it is school related because these things are helping to comfort somebody who is in pain about these events. In my opinion, it’s worth it even if it helps only one person get over their grief.

But as the years progressed, the tone of students’ responses began to change. We saw fewer references to grief and more emphasis on rules and consequences:

The mailing lists are for school information. Only under specific circumstances should other information be sent via the school email. People should keep their religion and opinions to themselves to avoid any chance of conflict.

The all-school lists should be school-related topics. Other stuff can be directed to specific people over the email. This way, people won’t be harassed by a ton of junk.

Dude, I totally agree with you. I think that the school server is, literally, the SCHOOL SERVER. It shouldn’t relate to other topics. If they want to have a server for other topics, they should check with one of the school administrators to see if they can form one where they can talk about worldwide news.

We realized that for these later groups of students, September 11 had become history, an event that held no direct, personal significance for them. They interpreted the scenario in much more black-and-white terms. Not happy with these increasingly rote responses, we ultimately stopped using the scenario with our classes.

Just eight years after the 2001 attacks, Eli Saslow wrote about this kind of disengagement in the Washington Post (“9/11 as a Lesson, Not a Memory”): “From the personal to the preserved—this is the uncomfortable transition that time requires of all great tragedies.” Every momentous historical event affects real people. After the fact, we struggle not only to capture the historical record, but also to encourage a meaningful and lasting response. Those of us who are old enough to remember September 11 don’t think of it as history, but then my parents don’t think of the McCarthy hearings or the Holocaust as history. For my incoming students, all of these events are part of an “it didn’t happen to me” past.

What can we do as librarians? Our challenge is to help upcoming generations comprehend the events of September 11, as well as appreciate something of the immediacy and impact that we experienced. We can do that by teaching with passion and by taking advantage of the power of primary sources. The sheer abundance of digital resources that are available offers us an opportunity to get it right by providing a tapestry of story lines rather than the “good guy versus bad guy” portrayal that so often emerges. Primary sources not only help personalize events, but also effectively depict the complexity of the political, social, religious, and cultural forces at work. Young people need to learn that no single perspective is adequate, and that every narrative comes with its own backstory.

Newseum: “Today’s Front Pages” On its website, the [...]]]> America Responds
PBS created this website immediately following the 9/11 attacks and now maintains it as an archive of related resources, analysis, and discussion. The site also offers very useful links to PBS content on a wide variety of 9/11 topics and themes. Users will find episodes of Frontline and other TV programs, relevant transcripts from Washington Week, first-person accounts, resources for parents, and lesson plans for teachers.

Newseum: “Today’s Front Pages”
On its website, the Newseum, which describes itself as “Washington, D.C.’s most interactive museum,” presents newspapers’ front pages in their original, unedited form. These pages from September 12, 2001, represent 147 papers from 19 countries. The ability to compare coverage across geographic boundaries makes this resource a perfect choice for media literacy studies.

September 11: Bearing Witness to History
The Smithsonian’s National Museum of American History began collecting artifacts and stories right after September 11 that include physical objects (pieces of a plane, melted coins, etc.), images, and audio recordings—many of the curators’ recollections of acquiring and working with the materials. The collection, a work in progress, will continue to grow as more is learned about the events of 9/11. Visitors are invited to share their own “Bearing Witness” stories, which are archived on a site maintained by the September 11 Digital Archive (http://911digitalarchive.org/
smithsonian/).

The September 11 Digital Archive
The September 11 Digital Archive, a project of the Center for History and New Media at George Mason University and the American Social History Project at the City University of New York Graduate Center, uses electronic media to collect, preserve, and present the history of September 11 and its aftermath. In addition to the Smithsonian’s “Bearing Witness” stories and other personal narratives, the collection includes email messages, digital images, videos, and sound materials. The archive was accepted into the Library of Congress in 2003, marking the library’s first major digital acquisition.

The September 11, 2001 Documentary Project
The day after the September 11 attacks, the American Folklife Center issued a public call to ethnographers and folklorists to collect, record, and document America’s responses to the tragedies. This Library of Congress American Memory collection contains a sampling of the materials that were amassed, including sound and video interviews, photographs, drawings, news clippings, written narratives, emails, and other artifacts. As with other American Memory collections, this one offers support materials for teachers. The main American Memory site also provides teaching guides for a broad range of primary sources, as well as an analysis tool for students.

September 11: A Memorial
This site is CNN’s memorial to the victims of the September 11 attacks. It lists those who died (based on records compiled by Legacy.com) and includes information from CNN reports, obituaries, and materials submitted by friends and family. In addition to shining some light on individual’s stories, the educational value of this site lies in discussions with students about information that’s missing or incomplete. Why would family members choose or not choose to share information about their loved ones in such a place? The site was archived in 2004, and now many of the photos are broken images. How does that “look” affect the impact of the site?

9/11 Memorial: Teach + Learn
“The National September 11 Memorial Museum at the World Trade Center may not exist yet, but its website boasts some excellent teaching materials and primary sources. The embedded video and audio on the interactive time line brings us voices from the hijacked airplanes and from observers on the ground. This website is one of the few resources to address young children’s needs (Talking to Your Children About 9/11). An ongoing webinar series keeps up with 9/11-related events, such as the death of Osama bin Laden.

The 9/11 Commission Report
The National Commission on Terrorist Attacks Upon the United States (also known as the 9/11 Commission) was charged with preparing a full account of the circumstances surrounding the tragedies, including preparedness for and response to the attacks, and recommendations to guard against future attacks. As government publications go, sections of this one make for a fairly compelling read. A graphic novel of the report, such as Sid Jacobson and Ernie Colón’s The 9/11 Report: A Graphic Adaptation (Hill and Wang, 2006), might be just the ticket for making the events more real for young adults.

Sitomer and 53 other State Teachers of the Year were invited to Washington, DC, to attend a Rose Garden ceremony honoring their hard work and dedication. But [...]]]> How one teacher uses hip-hop to unlock the classics

It’s not often that an English teacher working with poor inner-city kids ends up at the White House. But that’s exactly where Alan Sitomer was on April 26—standing in the Oval Office, cracking jokes and shaking hands with President George W. Bush and his wife, Laura.

Sitomer and 53 other State Teachers of the Year were invited to Washington, DC, to attend a Rose Garden ceremony honoring their hard work and dedication. But by Monday morning, the English teacher was back in his classroom at Lynwood High School doing what he does best—teaching students about classic literature through hip-hop.

Ask the teens in Sitomer’s class if they’ve heard of Ludacris, Tupac, or Nas and you’ll get a resounding yes. Ask the same kids if they know the works of Dickinson, Kipling, or Keats, and you’ll get the same answer. In fact, these teens are experts at analyzing the poetry of hip-hop and the world’s greatest writers—and they can identify the symbolism, imagery, and irony in both.

What’s so special about that? These at-risk students attend a severely overcrowded, low-performing school in East Los Angeles that’s surrounded by what Sitomer describes as “gangs, guns, and drugs.” Prostitutes work the streets just a half mile away from the school, and many kids can’t take the most direct route home because it would put them in danger. “We have students every year who are victims of gang beatings, stabbings, and shootings,” Sitomer says.

Life at school is rough, too. There’s a campus probation officer who tracks students wearing electronic ankle bracelets and a canine crew regularly sniffs students for drugs and gunpowder. Many of the students are in foster care or come from troubled homes, so it’s not surprising that more than 45 percent drop out. “My students would rather go to the dentist than the library,” Sitomer says.

But since Sitomer’s arrival in the fall of 2000, things have changed—at least for those who have taken his class. Lynwood Assistant Principal Al Rowlson credits the English lit teacher with boosting academic performance. An amazing 98 percent of Sitomer’s sophomore students pass the English portion of the California high school exit exam, compared to only 57 percent schoolwide. The 19 students in his college-prep class all enrolled in four-year colleges.

Sitomer’s teaching philosophy is simple: “I believe in validating students and their interests,” he explains. “If you diminish their interests, you diminish them—and then you’ll never reach them.” During his early days at Lynwood, Sitomer had many sleepless nights, feeling “tortured” by his students’ disinterest in learning. “One night, I just decided that I couldn’t handle that my students weren’t engaged, and they were unwittingly becoming victims of their own apathy,” he remembers. Bringing hip-hop into the classroom was a natural way to turn things around.

Of course, all the lyrics taught in class are free of homophobia, misogyny, profanity, and violence. “This isn’t MTV, this is a classroom,” he explains. “And I have high academic expectations of my students.” By the end of the year, students read 14 novels, as well as works by contemporary writers like George Orwell, Langston Hughes, and August Wilson.

Dressed in a pair of Sketchers, jeans, and a lavender button-down shirt, the 40-year-old Sitomer walks around his classroom, telling a bunch of 10th-graders about one of his favorite writers. “You gotta realize that Shakespeare was a really cool dude,” says Sitomer, who’s so laid back that he’s a pretty cool dude himself. “I mean, he put rhymes down on paper about the same stuff that Biggie, Tupac, and Ice Cube laid down some of their best tracks about.”

Sitomer goes on to explain that Hamlet deals with the abuse of power, greed, and feelings of desperate isolation, exactly the same things Tupac sang about in his famous song “Me Against the World.”

“See, that’s why we study literature,” Sitomer continues, adding that inside the works of great writers we find universal themes of humanity. The whole point? That great literature isn’t just about the past, it’s very much a part of our lives today.

“Is there anyone in this room who hasn’t felt all alone?” he asks, knowing very well that most, if not all, of his students can relate. “And have you ever wondered if it’s ‘you against the world’? Have you ever thought about whether it’s worth it to go on or, as the Great Bard put it, ‘To be or not to be?’”

Students shake their heads in acknowledgement and Sitomer knows he has a captive audience that really gets what he’s talking about. “When the bell rings and students are still talking about your lesson on their way out from class, that’s when you know you’ve hit it out of the park,” he says with pride.

Sitomer also knows his lessons are hugely successful because students often say that he’s touched them in some special way. A few years ago, for example, a 15-year-old walked up to him after class and handed him a note. It was a thank-you letter for saving her life. The girl, who was in foster care, had problems at home and was falling seriously behind in school, but when Sitomer introduced her to Dylan Thomas’s “Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night,” his analysis of the poem moved her so much that she had second thoughts about committing suicide. “I made the decision that if one little poem could have such an impact, what could an entire novel do?,” Sitomer recalls.

That was one of many incidents that inspired Sitomer to start writing novels, and so far, he has three—The Hoopster (2005), Hip-Hop High School (2006), and Homeboyz (2007, all Jump at the Sun)—all of which deal with issues taken directly from his students’ lives. Lynwood High Media Specialist Martha Flores says Sitomer’s students are always in the library asking to check out his books. Even Disney took an interest, immediately signing Sitomer to a three-book deal.

The great thing about hip-hop, Sitomer says, is that it isn’t just an urban phenomenon—and since everyone listens to it, his teaching technique can be adopted by all educators (see “Using Hip-Hop with Your Students”). He’s so convinced that just about anyone can do it that he self-published a teacher’s guide called Hip-Hop Poetry and the Classics for the Classroom (MilkMug, 2004).

And his efforts haven’t gone unnoticed. In 2003, he was named teacher of the year by California Literacy, and in 2004 he won the award for classroom excellence by the Southern California Teachers of English. Loyola Marymount College, where he’s a part-time professor, recently named him educator of the year for teaching educators how to be successful in urban classrooms. And, last year, he won district teacher of the year, which of course, led to state teacher of the year and the White House.

With all of this national attention, other school districts are already trying to lure him away, and there have been offers to write full-time. But for now, Sitomer’s staying put. “I know I don’t need to stay in the classroom,” he says, “It’s simply out of love.”