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■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ Introduction Student Resistance and the Cultural Production of Space The day before school started one September, I lost my classroom on the quiet south side of the building to a new Freshman Block program. My reassigned room on the noisy east side was an old computer room filled with Mac Classics bolted to the tops of tables. Though some computers worked, most needed repairs or were missing keyboards. During the summer, workers renovating the school had cut the wires, leaving no Internet access and no network, so the few working computers were essentially useless. Trying not to start the term demoralized, I dragged the old Macs into the hall and scrambled to find real desks in other rooms. When I removed the computer tables, I discovered that the floor was lined with electrical sockets that stuck up two inches and sent up sparks when I dragged a chair over them. I tried to arrange the furniture to hide these obstacles the best I could. The room was filled with an eclectic but functional mix of desks and chairs, and the sockets were reasonably concealed when the thirty Black sophomores in my first class arrived the next day. After we introduced ourselves, I handed out two lists of rules. I labeled one “Dictatorship Rules,” established by the school and district, such as “no fighting” as well as “no headphones,” “no cell phones” and “no hats.” I went over these rules and told students, “We don’t have any say in these 2 ❙ Introduction rules, but we have to follow them.” They seemed familiar with them and indifferently turned to the second list that I had labeled “Democratic Rules,” which pertained to our particular classroom and, I insisted, were things we could control. This list included such items as “no gum,” the penalty for lateness, and my “three pass policy,” which permitted each student to leave the room with my official hall pass three times a term. I explained that this list of rules was merely a proposal. They were to meet with their “committees ” and decide if they wanted to ratify these rules, propose changes, or reject them for entirely new ones. They met in groups of five and looked at each other awkwardly. However , slowly the groups began talking and by the end of the ten-minute discussion period were generally engaged in lively conversations. I called the class back together and asked for proposals from the floor. They immediately challenged the gum rule on the grounds that “bad breath” was an unfair burden. “You teachers want us to work in groups, but you can’t work if someone’s breath is stink—you got to give the brotha some gum!” a student named Tekwon argued. “I don’t care about what’s in your mouth, but look at the ceiling,” I instructed . They looked up at the fifteen-foot ceiling and slowly began to giggle as they noticed the wads of gum that had found their way up there. I continued, “It’s the gum on the seats, the walls, the desks, and the ceiling that always causes disruptions.” They debated with me fiercely as I sought to convince them that gum was not necessary to their educations. Eventually they proposed, “Students can chew gum but must dispose of it properly . If someone sits in gum, the class can’t have gum for a week (even if we didn’t put the gum there). If Ms. Dickar sees gum, we will clean it up.” I was satisfied with these amendments because the students took responsibility for the gum in the room. With all in agreement, it became our “gum policy.” With this small victory under their belts, the students began debating how many times they could be late before I should exact a penalty. Though they had been united in their struggle for gum, they were more divided about how late was “late” and how often students needed to be late. Some argued that students should never be late, while others insisted that it was impossible to get to class on time because of the crowding in the halls. They debated this issue quite intensely, but as they were unable to create either a zero-tolerance policy or a no-penalty policy, agreed on [3.141.202.187] Project MUSE (2024-04-24 06:39 GMT) Introduction ❙ 3 my original proposal that three unexcused “lates” would result in a fivepoint deduction from their grade. With the period winding down...

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