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Lesson planning for multiculturalism

By Monika de la Porte

Fresh out of school himself, Andrew Seike came to Lynbrook High School as an English teacher 12 years ago. He saw immediately that Lynbrook was unlike any other school he had ever seen.

"I had never been to a school that had so many Asians," he says.

Seike soon realized that Lynbrook and neighboring Monta Vista High School offered extraordinarily safe places for students growing up Asian American. For Seike, who had grown up and done his teacher training at high schools in San Francisco--where it wasn't easy being Asian and fights broke out everyday--the opportunity to be a part of something this different was irresistible.

"People here don't get beat up just because they're a different skin color," he says.

Like so many of his colleagues before and since, Seike reveled in the easy multiculturalism of the school and in the thrill of discovering students who were so motivated to learn that he could focus on teaching rather than being a disciplinarian. Over time he also realized that his role was less about urging his students along a prescribed path to success and more about being the voice of experience. He could paint a more realistic picture of life "out there" and encourage his young charges to think for themselves and create their own paths.

Melting pot

Principal Mike White points out that the mandate of every American high school is to raise and educate good citizens.

"In addition to raising exemplary citizens, I really believe Lynbrook is a perfect example of how different cultures can be seamlessly assimilated into one community," he says.

Lee Akamichi, long-time head of Lynbrook's highly-respected art department, enjoys watching the diversity and the ease with which the students relate to one another.

"It's really a melting pot," he says. "Their cultures are totally different, but they hang out in each other's homes. They're trying chopsticks, they're eating foods they'd never see in their own homes. These kids have a far more global experience than we did growing up.''

Seike feels the journey towards self-identity is less complicated for his students than it can be in other multi-ethnic societies.

"They don't have all the racism and the hatred to get out of their systems," he says. "They feel completely accepted the way they are. It's safe to open up and talk and explore your options."

By living amongst such diversity, Akamichi says, the students are liberated from the stranglehold of media-driven perceptions of perfection and beauty, which can be a bane to self-conscious adolescents. Here there is an easy acceptance of culturally diverse norms of beauty. And the students have a natural appreciation for exotic mixes of races.

Bridges

Dealing with cultural diversity is something that teachers and administrators at the school are "beyond sensitized" to do, according to Seike. The school often has speakers from different cultures visit and speak to the staff.

"Since we don't have a lot of discipline issues, we can concentrate on these things," he says.

Sensitivity training is always a priority for Jeff Moe, a parent at Monta Vista, and a past president of AAPA (Asian American Parents' Association), which focuses on building bridges between the Asian and larger communities.

"I don't believe there are people in the school districts that are consciously biased," he says. "It's the unconscious attitudes that training can help. If you're doing something you're not aware of, you can't control it."

Moe cites an example of this society's attitude towards eye contact. A child who avoids eye contact is seen as being less than honest, whereas in some Asian cultures it is considered disrespectful to look a teacher in the eye. A teacher who isn't aware of that could misinterpret the student's behavior.

Still, Moe finds its hard to advocate this kind of training because there are so few instances of cultural misunderstandings.

"The fact is we all get along marvelously. All of the ethnic groups get along. And the people in the school districts have always been helpful, and cooperative and very willing to reach out and meet with everyone."

White, for instance, feels it is important to reassure families that Lynbrook is a safe, fun and exciting place for the children to be at this formative stage of their lives. He tries to establish a friendly, supportive and inclusive feel for parents as well as students. The school works closely with the PTA's bilingual committee to help families who are less than comfortable with the language.

For the past few years, White has run an orientation for the parents of incoming freshmen, with the idea of helping them get to know each other and develop a support network with the parents of senior students. During the morning, he has them play a few games as icebreakers, which, he soon realized, was a fairly alien concept for many immigrant families.

"I'm always glad to see that people enjoy themselves," says White. "It's great that they are so willing to go along and get into the spirit of things--to do it 'the American way.' "

Gateways to Asia

For Moe, who points out that Asians comprise 60 percent of the world's population, California's becoming more Asian-oriented is invaluable for the state and the country.

"I really think our schools need to bring in more Indian, Chinese, Japanese and other Asian influences in history and literature to offer a better balanced, global education to our children," he says.

Kate Jamentz, academic deputy superintendent of the Fremont Union High School District, agrees, saying it would not only help Asian students with issues of self-identity, but also open up a new dimension of cultural understanding to non-Asian students.

"The California standards in English require that teachers have a deep enough knowledge of Asian literature to make the standards come alive through it," says Jamentz. "Across classrooms in the district you'll find some teachers do try to incorporate it in their curriculum.''

But Asian includes so many different cultures that the task can seem overwhelming. When Lynbrook recently started a Chinese language department, for instance, Jamentz received calls from people asking for instruction in Korean and Hindi.

"I think it illustrates the challenge. And, of course, we have to figure it out despite the challenge," says Jamentz.

"It is not the way of the world right now in public education in America to be expansive or creative or innovative in our thinking." Jamentz adds. "We really need, as a community that can afford to bend the No Child Left Behind rules a little bit, to fashion ourselves as a place where we can do things that we can't do in other places. And the fact that we don't have enough staff ready to craft a curriculum that both meets California standards and breaks down the walls that we've built around this country, is not a good thing."

To help the school districts build up an organization that represents the community at large is another focus of AAPA.

"For children it has a tremendous value," says Moe. "To see somebody that looks like you, that you would feel comfortable talking to, and who would understand your situation in the way you need him or her to."

AAPA also offers scholarships to Asian students interested in pursuing a career in teaching.

FUHSD superintendent Polly Bove understands what it feels like to not fit in. An adopted child herself, she felt like a minority of one growing up, and it has given her a life-long appreciation for what it feels like to be different or alone in the world.

She is committed to working towards hiring a very diverse employee group that would match the student population as much as possible. She speaks with enthusiasm, for instance, of a recent "coup" in hiring Paul Cheng as the district's associate superintendent of administrative services. His experience as a principal at high performing schools in San Francisco with very diverse populations makes him a perfect fit for the FUHSD, she says.

"We're very lucky that he happens to be Chinese," Bove says. "It's invaluable that he can say "Wait, I know how they're feeling' about a large portion of our population. And he's going to be able to pull from the much larger pool of Asian teachers in the San Francisco area.''

Beyond perfection

Seike agreed to a 45-mile daily commute when he took on his job. He knows that he can reach out in certain ways to his Asian students, simply because of who he is.

"I understand what they're going through," he says. "I'm a product of what they're going through. My parents had expectations very similar to what these students' parents have."

Like Seike, Akamichi finds that part of his job is to teach his students to think for themselves.

"I teach my students to let go. To think beyond producing perfect things to being creative with their skill and demonstrating the range of what they're capable of," Akamichi says.

"As an Asian person myself I understand how hard that is for my Asian students to do. You're expected to be outstanding without standing out. You're not encouraged to think outside of the box. I tell them it's time to take off the training wheels and trust that they can do it."

Along with their colleagues, both Seike and Akamichi worry that the quest for superlative grades sometimes seems to preclude the passion and sense of adventure that learning should involve.

The school's administration has made conscious attempts to lower stress levels for their students with active counseling about classes that are right for them, and by taking the "busy work" out of homework. Guidance counselors work hard to dispel the notion that there are only a handful of colleges worth getting into and that the high school years need to be spent focused on building the "perfect" college transcript.

"You'll notice our scores haven't dropped," Seike says. "But I think we've all become more human in the process."

Akamichi agrees.

"We're telling the kids to slow down and have fun, and I think they're listening to us."