Don't Speak Spanish! Just Three Words and Their Harmful Impact at Two Texas Middle Schools

By Alfredo Diaz

In this account, I attempt to shed light on how two seemingly distinct aspects of schooling, campus discipline and school sociocultural philosophy, are actually highly interrelated variables. Educators at Jacobson Middle School purportedly “value” student language and culture, yet they do next to nothing to promote a culturally reaffirming environment. This can only compound the behavioral and academic difficulties of Latino youth. Few things are more damaging to Latino bicultural identity than a restriction on the academic development of his or her home language.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alfredo Diaz
• Release date: May 3, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310472503

Alfredo Diaz

Alfredo Diaz was raised near Alton in the Rio Grande Valley of Texas. He was stationed with the U.S. Army at Ft. Riley, Kansas and the Panama Canal Zone. After military service, he earned a B.A. in Environmental Studies at Southwest Texas State University, and a doctorate in education from the University of Houston. He has worked in the field of public education as a teacher and assistant principal in Houston area schools for twenty years. For questions or comments, contact Alfredo (Fred) Diaz at [e-mail].

Book preview

Don't Speak Spanish!

Just Three Words and Their Harmful Impact at Two Texas Middle Schools

By Alfredo (Fred) Diaz

Copyright © 2015 Alfredo Diaz

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

Table of Contents

Introduction

Acknowledgments

The Source of Denial (I)

Out of the Comfort Zone

The Bridge Metaphor

First Day at the New School

Benito's Story

Antidote to Latino Inferiority Complex

Ethnic Awakening Begins

Strong Trees Need Strong Roots

A Greater Epiphany Unfolds

¡Ni Papas!–Learning Opportunity Denied

The Ethnographic Study

Intriguing Student Quotes

Effective Discipline Management (II)

Inner-City Experience

The Dress Code Gestapo

Gang-Wear in Decline

The Forest for the Trees

Synergy of Like-Minded People

Desperate Measures for Desperate Times

Red on Black . . .

The Ounce of Fear Hypothesis

The DAEP Candidate

Parenting Gone Wrong

Undermining of In Loco Parentis

Factoring In Cultural Awareness (III)

The Handshake Game

The Curative Power of Spanish

Validating Student Language

Maintaining Campus Stability (IV)

What Goes 'round Comes 'round

Enabling Strategy Revealed

The New Jacobson

Behavorial Downturn Resumes (V)

'Til the Well Runs Dry

Too Little, Too Late!

Proposed Long-Term Solution (VI)

Lessons from Turner Middle

First Teaching Experience

Principles and Principals

Last Reflections on Jacobson

Conclusion (VII)

Tribute to Dr. T

Definitions and Specialized Terms

Appendix

References

List of Photos and Illustrations

About the Author

Connect With Me

Introduction

In 2002, Jacobson Middle had a reputation as one of the most violent and unstable schools in the district. As a first-year assistant principal, I could sense the level of fearlessness and disregard for authority in the student body. I knew that my first priority was to help stabilize the school before I could explore additional factors inhibiting achievement. I borrowed from my Army experience to create a disciplinary persona. The Dress Code Gestapo, as I would be called, allowed me to break the stranglehold held by the school’s anti-authority element. With the tacit approval of the school principal, the unwavering support of the campus officer, and a growing faculty and staff involvement, significant progress was made after a three-year campaign. We diminished student aggression and defiance considerably by the end of the 2005-2006 school year—a level of tranquility not experienced in twenty years.

Previously, I had participated in an ethnographic study on academically successful Asian and Latino students. Respondents reported a strong ethnic identity, and native language maintenance, as critical factors in their school success (Zou & Trueba, 2001). At Jacobson Middle, a predominately Latino school, I was able to observe the impact of a weak or nebulous cultural identity upon student behavior and performance. With the use of Spanish and English, along with knowledge of Latino sociocultural dynamics, I was able to get inside the community’s culture—rather than looking at it as an outside observer. I was convinced that the erosion of self-discipline and respect that I encountered was tied to Jacobson’s subtractive schooling (Valenzuela, 1999) environment. In a less-than culturally reaffirming environment, undesirable forms of identity development, including the gang subculture, quickly filled a void in many youths’ needs.

In the first half of this personal narrative, I describe earlier experiences and self-discoveries that helped to transform my ethnic self-concept. In my early twenties, I was stationed with the Army in the Panama Canal Zone. Upon my arrival, I realized that I had suffered from an ethnic inferiority complex since my youth. I was able to make the self-diagnosis by reflecting on my primary symptoms. My reluctance to respond in the Spanish language throughout my adolescence and teenage years was tied to a negative ethnic self-perception. This was exacerbated by my limited fluency in Spanish—a language that, along with English, was central to my bicultural identity. While stationed in Panama, I discovered that native language redevelopment was the first step in reversing the impact of an ethnic inferiority complex.

Shortly after my departure, I enrolled in a college freshman English class. An unexpected writing assignment allowed me to examine my ethnic heritage in South Texas—extending back to the mid-1700s. My cultural sense of belonging, which I had not contemplated much throughout my school-age years, began to crystallize. Hispano-Mexican culture, along with the Spanish language, was inextricably tied to the historical and cultural foundation of Texas, and much of the Southwest USA. Some years later, the discovery of a hand-carved figure of a Mayan deity, Yum Kaax, in the school’s garden would lead to a greater epiphany regarding the role of the history curriculum in depicting the Amerindian roots of the majority of mainland Latino students.

In college, I became aware to what extent America actually valued the Spanish language. Mainstream students chose the Spanish language, overwhelmingly, to meet their foreign language requirement. I concluded that Spanish language maintenance, along with English, offered members of the Latino community greater socio-academic benefits than English language development alone. I entered the teaching field with the hope of sharing some of these personal insights and experiences—as well as to challenge many contradictory and elitist notions in education.

After nearly achieving exemplary status in the 2009-2010 school year, Jacobson Middle’s new principal decided to relax dress code enforcement. Within weeks, students reverted to a level of incivility that quickly overwhelmed the administrative team. My description of the behavioral transformation at Jacobson, and its return to a chaotic state, underscores the institution’s role in promoting student disengagement problems. Of greater consequence, by disregarding the importance of student cultural identities, and steadfastly adhering to subtractive schooling practices and goals, Jacobson Middle has fueled disaffection and misconduct for decades.

In September of 2010, I was reassigned to Turner Middle for strategic purposes. Upon my arrival, I perceived much ethnic discrimination toward Latino students. Reportedly, up to two hundred Latinos zoned to Turner had transferred to other area schools prior to the start of the school year. I found that Don’t speak Spanish!–an attack on the heart of Latino cultural identity—was in common use as a classroom management tool. With the support of the principal, I went to work to challenge this discriminatory treatment. I was aware of how damaging those three words could be to Latino self-perception, as well as their negative impact on student global and academic self-concept.

In this account, I attempt to shed light on how two seemingly distinct aspects of schooling, campus discipline and school sociocultural philosophy, are actually highly interrelated variables. Jacobson and Turner purportedly value student language and culture, yet they do next to nothing to promote a culturally reaffirming environment. This can only compound the behavioral and academic difficulties of Latino youth. Few things are more threatening—and damaging to Latino bicultural identity than a school ban on his or her home language. At Jacobson, while not as apparent as Turner, the restriction on student language and culture was implicit through its subtractive schooling practices.

Many people may be surprised to find that the denigration of Latino student cultural identity continues to be justified by some educational personnel for discipline and classroom management purposes. I hope that this account will raise greater consciousness among public education practitioners—including those that may employ those demoralizing words (Don’t speak Spanish!) for altruistic, yet misguided, reasons. With increased awareness, there can be no pedagogical advantage, or justification, for banning the use of Spanish in a twenty-first century classroom. The time is long overdue to finally do away with this anachronistic and often debilitating practice—in both its overtly discriminatory, and institutionalized subtractive schooling forms. The potential loss of self-esteem to Latino youth, alone, demands that educational professionals re-evaluate its harmful impact.

Acknowledgments

I have received much input from many of my friends and colleagues. It was positive and constructive when I needed reaffirmation about the relevancy of the topic. This included: Terry Myers, Bruno Boffa, Pio Mendez, Michael Crow, Walt Evanoski, Rangel Espinosa, Charles Douglas, Roberto Corral, Don Pope, Bob Hawkins, Irma Tamez, Ozzy Reyes, Clint Conover, Flavio Ortiz, Uma Natarajan, Mary Ortiz, Jenny Smith-Murry, Oscar Castrillon, Manny Alvarez, Reginaldo Villalon, Benedict Eloja, Dr. Steve Fullen, Kenneth Crow, and my dad, Jose Antonio Diaz Sr., many of whom read and commented on portions of the draft. Heather Jackson and Deanna Woolen offered critical perspectives on grammar and wording, and acted as primary sounding boards. Bill Banfield played devil’s advocate so well, at times, that our discussions nearly reached the boiling point! I really do appreciate what he did to help organize my thoughts, and for all the times that we sorted through related topics over the preceding years.

In 2000, I had a chance meeting with Dr. Angela Valenzuela at an ethnographic research conference. She recommended that I read Subtractive Schooling: U. S.-Mexican Youth and the Politics of Caring (1999). I thank her for the invaluable knowledge and understanding that I gained from her work prior to my first year as an assistant principal. I also owe much to Dr. Yali Zou, my doctoral committee chairperson. I had already reached burn out stage before Dr. Trueba introduced us at a meeting to initiate the research project on academically successful Asian-American and Latino students. In my presence, Dr. Trueba would later state to Dr. Zou, Do not let him fail! In the spirit of a true teacher, Dr. Zou never gave up on me.

Finally, I want to dedicate the writing of this account to the person that I consider most instrumental in achieving an extraordinary discipline structure at Jacobson Middle School. This is the individual whose name is mentioned repeatedly throughout the text—Officer Charles Douglas, former Jacobson campus officer (2004–2008). Without his presence, wisdom, guidance, and support, I would not have been able to write the portion of the account describing the behavioral transformation that occurred. I do not think it could have been possible without him. I once introduced Officer Douglas to Dr. Miles as one of the greatest human beings that I have ever known. I share this belief with many others that know him.

The Source of Denial (I)

Out of the Comfort Zone

On Friday, the 24th of September, 2010, I was called to the Central Office Administrator’s (COA's) office at headquarters, and informed that I had been re-assigned to another school, a predominantly African-American, low-performing middle school in our district’s southern sector. Having worked exclusively in Latino community schools throughout my career, I was unsure whether I had the requisite sociocultural knowledge and understanding to be an effective administrator there. I had mixed feelings about the whole affair, but felt somewhat relieved when the COA pointed to the school’s location on the map. The school district spanned fifteen miles in every direction from downtown, and I rather doubt that the COA had taken into account the commuting time from my residence. The school was three miles closer to my home than my previous assignment.

I had become too comfortable in the peaceful Jacobson Middle School environment. I knew that I was not a well-rounded administrator. The extent of my expertise rested in establishing a strong disciplinary structure, and promoting intercultural understanding regarding Latino educational needs—something that I had only dabbled with at a few teacher training opportunities. Despite my shortcomings, many of my colleagues encouraged me to become a principal, with some stating that they would follow me to any school that I should go to. It always felt good to be lauded by my most significant professional peers and friends. Now the abrupt push from the higher administration was followed instantaneously by my own sigh of relief. I felt like a marine mammal, breaching after a prolonged dive.

I had recently fallen into disfavor with the newly appointed principal at Jacobson. At our leadership meeting, he gave himself as a prime example of a positive immigrant socialization experience in comparison to his relatives. His parents had insisted on full assimilation by striving to become, exclusively, English speakers. He contended that his family’s academic and professional success was owed to that decision. I knew that the principal’s personal belief system would figure prominently in addressing the school’s most pressing issues, in determining what new programs and initiatives might yield the best achievement outcomes, along with the teacher training and development to help implement those concepts. For me, the principal’s perspective was diametrically opposed to everything that I believed in, and all that I had been taught, experienced, and wished to promote in the field of education. I knew that I was quickly approaching a philosophical impasse that has vexed educators in regard to Latino student needs—to insist on a one size fits all model for social integration—despite its association with widespread educational failure—or help chart a course toward a more promising model of socio-academic development.

At another team discussion, I challenged the principal’s views once again when he insisted that schools along the border were having extraordinary success with English immersion strategies. I commented that based on my experience while growing up there, I believed that the social and cultural dynamics were different. As a predominantly Hispanic region, most of our role models, our teachers, politicians, and professionals were English/Spanish-speaking bilinguals. Many of the Valley’s Anglo Americans, and other non-Hispanics, were also conversant in Spanish to some degree. I was certain that our bicultural identity development along the border was a natural consequence of geography, along with sociocultural and historical ties, rather than culturally reaffirming school practices.

At some point, the principal had enough of my dissenting views. Although I had never been disrespectful toward him, I could tell that the atmosphere was tense, at times, when such topics arose. With hindsight, I was only trying to temper the principal’s philosophy enough so that Jacobson Middle would not dive further into the educational abyss that has historically been associated with English-only policies for Latino community schools. About a week after my last comment, I was packing up my belongings.

The Bridge Metaphor

From my earliest days as a bilingual education teacher, I was determined to assist in reforming the system by opposing any restriction on the academic development of the Spanish language. My fieldwork, as an assistant researcher in an ethnographic study supported Vygotsky’s sociocultural approach—that the best possible outcome for linguistic minorities is bilingualism and biculturalism. The most academically successful Asian and Latino students and parents in the study shared the conviction that the maintenance of their ethnic identity had been a critical factor in their extraordinary school success (Zou & Trueba, 2001).

The role of native language maintenance was a recurring theme among the academically successful Asian and Latino immigrant students. Many of these students described themselves as a bridge between two cultures. They described an adaptation to American life that was enhanced by the preservation of their ethnic identity, not by a rejection or diminution of it. The parental intuition regarding the indispensability of native language and culture in their children’s self-identity now permitted them to enjoy the best of both worlds. The Bridge Metaphor had come to represent the quintessence of a positive orientation in the immigrant experience of linguistic minorities in America. I was convinced that this metaphor represented the model, the thinking, and the educational outcome that could be achieved