Visiting a ninth grade history class and an eleventh grade literature class, in succession, taught me several lessons. First of all, I was again reminded of the sense of humor of our students when a freshman compared a character in the Indian classic work of literature the Ramayana to Spongebob Squarepants, and a junior attempted to show how the descriptive introduction to Willa Cather’s My Antonia resembled the lack of plot in Seinfeld. While their comparisons might have been a stretch, they did have an internal reasoning and, in a way, they did make sense. (I also said that these two incidents might be a perfect example of the differing levels of sophistication between ninth and eleventh graders; as one might expect, the juniors agreed with this wholeheartedly.)
Beyond the humor of these two classroom visits, there were other concepts to consider. While studying great literature has its own justification, reading works from ancient India or the early 20th century American plains may pose certain obstacles for students. Can they relate to the protagonists of these works? How do they apply what they are learning to their own lives? What, ultimately, do they learn by reading these classic texts? While literature should not be judged merely by its applicability to students’ lives, the value of being exposed to its grand themes and concepts should not be underestimated.
At some level, this may be what we strive for in every middle and high school class. All too often, we hear students ask, “When will I use this?” or “How will I ever use this in my life?” and all too often, we give them a lame answer that fails to address their question. We hope that they will take what at first may appear theoretical or useless and come to see its relevance. Very often, the way to do this is to help them see that they can learn analogically. Certain concepts or pieces of information that may seem isolated or unrelated to their lives are, in fact, very similar to the struggles they are facing.
Maybe the Spongebob character is an archetype that has been passed down from long ago; perhaps, the beginning of a classic American novel resembles a sitcom from the 90’s. When students attempt to take what they are studying in class and show its similarity or relevance to their own worlds, they are digesting it at a deeper level, and in the process, they are making it their own. Isn’t that we wish them to do?
Recently, I listened to an interview with Azar Nafisi, the author of Reading Lolita in Tehran. During the interview, she explained how her students in theocratic Iran applied the themes of Nabokov’s story to their lives. Their reading enabled them to see that the Iranian oppressive regime seduced them into following its laws in much the same way that professor Humbert Humbert in Lolita seduces his young protégé Dolores Haze, and us the readers, into believing his side of the story. It was because Nafisi’s students could apply the classics of Western literature to their lives that they began to question their rulers and see how their lives could be different.
As Nafisi showed her students both the beauty and value in learning from texts that might appear to be foreign to them, so can we, as teachers and parents, help our students see the relevance of what they are studying to their lives and their futures.
