Unequal Childhoods - Annette Lareau [141]
Many of the children looked elated, smiling broadly at their families as they made their formal entrance. During the ceremony, some Lower Richmond parents erupted with joy when their children received special recognition; they yelled out “All Right!” or “Yes!” or the child’s name. Some parents stood up to applaud their children.
Even on this very happy occasion, however, feelings of distrust toward the school sometimes surfaced. A number of parents disapprovingly discussed how a few children had been banned from the ceremony for behavior problems. Billy Yanelli’s father and mother were sitting proudly in the audience (both having taken off from work). Although Mr. Yanelli told me, “I like this school” (particularly compared to the one that Billy was about to attend), his discomfort was apparent.
Big Billy Yanelli made a number of . . . derogatory . . . comments throughout the ceremony, either to himself or for the benefit of [Ms. Yanelli], who sat next to him—mostly ignoring him. Once, when a male teacher climbed the steps to the stage, Big Billy said: “He’s so stupid. What a goof.” At the beginning of the ceremony, as the principal adjusted the microphone and prepared to speak, Big Billy pretended to mimic her: “Okay, everyone is suspended.”
The celebration at Swan had a somewhat different feel. Many Swan children, including Garrett Tallinger and Melanie Handlon, smiled and seemed pleased, but they were not bursting with excitement. Those Swan parents who were dressed more than casually simply had on their work outfits (i.e., suits, skirts and jackets—a “professional” rather than dressy kind of look). Swan boys looked neat but also casual: a number wore polo shirts, some wore button-down shirts, and only a few had on ties. Girls wore what looked like nice Sunday dresses—not very frilly but pretty and neat. Educators gave out awards for accomplishments ranging from perfect attendance to special achievement in math. Swan parents conveyed mild and polite pride when their children were recognized; they clapped politely but briefly, took pictures, and stayed in their chairs.
The future also was portrayed differently at Swan:
Swan seemed much more hopeful and Lower Richmond more aware of danger and trouble kids might face in their lives. Swan songs were about how bright the future was, how many new doors would open for the kids, how exciting it all was. The first two songs sung at Lower Richmond had to do with confronting despair, jealousy, pain, and trouble, with waking up the next day ready to try again, with renewal for struggle, with how many kids were hurting in the world. One of the male teachers also gave an admonition to the kids to “keep their hands in their pockets next year” in middle school when someone taunted them. The emphasis appeared to be on a certain kind of behavior (restraint, “good citizenship,” avoiding fights, being respectful) rather than on academic achievement, as it was at Swan.
Of course, the parents themselves differed in how much education they had. For example, the Yanellis both went only through tenth grade. They hoped that their son Little Billy would go to a state college, but they were unsure. The middle-class families had little doubt that their children would attend college. Middle-class children, including Stacey Marshall, often chattered about which college they might want to go to when they were older. The Tallingers visited the campuses of Ivy League universities when they were in the area for soccer tournaments. Alexander Williams’s parents were helping one of his cousins pay for her education at an elite private university. Thus, for these middle-class children, it was a matter of which college they would attend. In these contrasting visions of the future, the fifth-grade graduation was a different milestone.
THE POWER