This review refers to the 2009 ASCD edition.
This repetitious, poorly-written book offers little by way of useful advice, loads of vagaries and platitudes, and a handful of downright counterproductive sentiments. I do not know who this book is for. It seems geared mainly towards administrators, and less so towards teachers; but who among this group thinks that poor kids struggle in school simply because they are intrinsically less capable than the better off? Who among this group needs to be told such obvious, non-specific advice as “provide engaging instruction?” What is the use of data like “each year students have good teachers, their test scores improve?” One of the book’s few specific, actionable points of advice is literally to run study groups where school staff read Teaching With Poverty in Mind by Eric Jensen… like…. I’m sorry, but this is just not a good book. I came to it hoping for some useful techniques for accommodating the needs of students living in poverty, and came away with only slim pickings.
The premise of the book is that poverty “can change poor kids for the worse.” (An actual quote. Page one. Christ.) But! A good teacher can repair them. I hope the grossness and objectionability of that framing is readily apparent to anyone who wants to undertake the serious task of caring for and educating impoverished children. Such a framing only feeds into reductive, dehumanizing narratives around poverty and casts teachers in a highly problematic savior role. If the phrasing were that poverty changes children in a way that makes school more difficult, I would read this book more forgivingly, but no: on page one, Jensen has declared that, due to their life experiences, poor children are “worse.” I condemn this book and its attitude towards children experiencing poverty.
The premise of the book hinges on neuroplasticity: poverty worsens brains, we can make ‘em better. I don’t challenge the concept of neuroplasticity or its applicability to poverty and education, but I do question the utility of this particular invocation of the brain: why is it more powerful or persuasive to appeal to the brain and neuroscience than it would be to simply talk about “the mind” or “cognition?” (Jensen’s references throughout the text to the actual particularities of the physical brain are scant and shallow enough that such a shift would not be difficult to undertake.) There is a certain strain of undue scientism here that I want to be critical of. I think any adherent of Foucault et al., interested in tracking the way science and science communication reflects and reifies social structures, would find Jensen’s book a ripe ground for critique.
So part of the reason I react so negatively to Jensen’s work here is because I come to the book with a deep skepticism of the neuroscientific foundation he invokes. I have no grounding to challenge the validity of the science, and Jensen’s citations are frequent and numerous (sometimes to the point of leading me to question the relevance of some of the tidbits he throws in). But among my own personal biases is that I will always be skeptical of work which seeks to locate determiners of behavior within the physical body. However strong the neuroscience here may be, I think this framing could lead to harmful bio-essentialist interpretations.
And Jensen certainly makes no attempts to speak of to avoid those dangerous bio-essentialist readings. He repeatedly reifies the absolute bullshit of IQ tests as a meaningful measure of intelligence; even his infrequent concessions of how IQ scores can change and are not inherent and permanent are underpinned by the shockingly incurious assumption that something as broad and vague as “intelligence” could be reduced into a one-dimensional numerical score. He repeatedly refers to certain things as being “hardwired” in human DNA, which feels nonsensical and/or deterministic. On page 121 he reiterates his condescending, classist, bio-essentialist understanding of impoverished children thus: “many kids, especially those from poverty, do not have the essential brain wiring for academic success.” Note the word essential! He’s really leaning into it here! His assertion that only six emotions are “hardwired” in the human brain, and all others are learned, attempts such a stringent claim about such subjective and fluid subject matter that—apologies to the researchers and peer reviewers—I cannot help but write it off as nonsense.
Let’s also take a moment to carefully read that dead metaphor around “wires:” kids’ minds as machines? Rote, solid, predictable? One of the book’s actually useful concepts (how “soft” skills like attentional skills and sequencing underpin academic success) gets irritatingly metaphorized as an “academic operating system” which teachers need to “upgrade.” The cold, electronic language with which Jensen conceptualizes his subjects espouses an understanding of impoverished children as computerized objects in need of having their interiors replaced and remade. It’s pretty gross! I’m being very dramatic about choice of words here, but this kind of thing makes an impact on readers, and Jensen is communicating some seriously shitty sentiments about poor children with these images.
And the science is communicated in a rather shoddy way anyway, which invites strong skepticism from a critical reader. At every juncture, he resists indeterminacy in favor of highly rigid models of human cognition and personhood, which is, to me at least, an offensively incurious way of writing about the human person. In his hands, the parenthetical citation becomes a fiat disallowing discussion, not an attempt at fostering engaging synthesis or debate. Jensen refers often to “scanning” the brain and seeing “physical changes,” but rarely does he take the time to discuss what those changes are, what such a scan constitutes and what information it might provide, et cetera. Bizarre graphs abound—for instance the pyramid which supposedly shows how adverse childhood experiences lead to early death, which corresponds to no data and whose shape carries no information, or an “emotional keyboard” which illustrates, in a fanciful and unreadable way, how impoverished children are left with reduced emotional responses (an idea that I’ve already said I find suspect). More traditional graphs also appear, but are formatted in such a way as to exaggerate the effects they depict, or utilize strange, unintuitive axes.
I am not qualified to impugn the science itself, and in fact I’m not really skeptical of the research itself, but the way Jensen has employed it is very shoddy. However good the science is, this is poor science communication. The impression I get is that either Dr. Jensen does not trust his audience to understand the details of the science he’s drawing his authority from and has decided that it is a lost cause to try to explain it; or that the ideas he is communicating are actually only tenuously related to the science he’s citing, and his vagueness is a way of covering for that shakiness. Either way, or even if neither is the case, his writing burned quickly through my patience and charity as a reader.
I’m actually inclined towards the second of those two options, because in several sections he produces extraordinarily questionable interpretations of the research he cites. Arguing for more poor kids to take AP classes because students who take AP classes go to college at higher rates, for instance, is a great example of Jensen outright ignoring sample bias. Especially since, speaking from personal experience, AP classes are not always exactly taught in the understanding, engaging way that impoverished students would need! His argument that physical activity benefits kids’ minds sounds mostly absolutely great to me… except for the part where he supports it by noting a relationship between test scores and BMI. Is it possible, Dr. Jensen, that both test scores and BMI correlate with something else, like, I don’t know, socioeconomic class? Listen, I am not myself a STEM person, but this is really just basic data literacy stuff.
A great deal of the book is not as objectionable as I’ve perhaps made it out to be. But unfortunately most of the less objectionable material is not really useful either. Each chapter follows a tight structure. First, he gives us an annoying little anecdote about fictional social studies teacher Mr. Hawkins. These repetitive, self-congratulatory vignettes describe how Mr. Hawkins starts off thinking poor kids are unsalvageable, but eventually becomes an amazing, class-conscious teacher. Wow! Then, Jensen describes the neuroscience research behind a topic related to poverty and education (in the problematic way I’ve just ranted about.) Next he provides action steps, most of which are not at all actionable, though many do spell out cute acronyms. Inanities, circularities, and vagaries are everywhere, as are buzzword-y nothing phrases like “Enrichment Mindset and “Champion’s Mindset.” Some of the classroom-level action steps include sharing Hallmark-y inspiring stories, being understanding of your students, and providing “engaging instruction.” On page 112, there’s a sprawling list of things teachers must “know how” to do, with no advice whatsoever as to how to know them. Great stuff!
Each section then ends with an explanation of successful high-poverty schools—these could be great, useful, practical, specific, “inside baseball”-y case studies in effective pedagogy and administration, but instead they read like PR or ad copy. In the last chapter, “Instructional Light and Magic,” Jensen walks us through a day in the transformed Mr. Hawkins’ class, which presumably is an example of Jensen’s ideal, poverty-aware education. Jensen’s big idea seems to be to play music in the classroom? There’s nothing I necessarily think is bad about the lesson plan Jensen gives in that last chapter, but it’s very easy to imagine that what plays out smoothly in Jensen’s diorama would fall utterly flat in real life.
The inclusion of “Standards-Based Curriculum and Instruction” (which means, literally, teaching to the standardized test) under the list of classroom-level strategies speaks volumes about the intellectual bankruptcy of this book. Rather than adopt a stance critical of the classism and ableism and racism involved in standardized testing, rather than ask what really makes for quality education, Jensen chooses instead to use test scores as the metric for success, reifying the fucked-up system that he really should be criticizing instead. He advocates for teaching to the test, a form of education that is soul-sucking for teacher and student alike, because he cannot look beyond the highly fraught way that our present system has decided to measure education success. I’m sorry, that’s just lazy. How else could a book titled “Teaching With Poverty in Mind” end up advocating for teachers to stick to the strictures of an actively classist system?
The reasons I award this book two stars rather than one are few but important. I object to his “operating system” metaphor, but I think the idea of focusing on foundational cognitive skills is smart and I will carry that advice forward with me. I think he’s probably right about the utility of collecting lots of specific data about your students. The advice about using no more than 50% of class time on new material, and spending the rest on skill building and rehearsal is good, and I’ll try to hold onto it. I definitely agree that the arts and physical movement are important to integrate into lesson plans. And a lot of the stuff about being understanding of poor students’ stresses is good, even if it’s also very boilerplate. I’m not a principal, but I imagine some of the stuff directed at principals is usable also. And there is exactly one good turn of phrase in this book: “meeting the standards is a bit like trying to nail Jell-O to a tree.”
To his credit, Jensen talks a lot about what makes the biggest difference: providing children with healthcare, food, extracurriculars, safety, etc. Because here’s the thing; there’s just no way for an individual teacher to end poverty. And even a school providing all these services for students is still just ameliorating a larger societal sickness. Until we live in an economically just society with no poverty, some of these problems are gonna just be intractable. I wish this book would have had the guts to make an argument for taking political action and ending poverty, instead of only tasking teachers and school administrators with “saving” and “fixing” impoverished children.
I did not study education in college. Maybe as I gain more experience as an educator my perspective on Jensen’s advice will change. I was hoping this book would help me prepare for teaching, but instead it just provided me with platitudes and obvious, hand-wave-y ideas. I voiced to a friend my frustrations about the lack of actionable advice and the obviousness of some of Jensen’s injunctions; they responded that, sadly, probably a lot of teachers actually do need to be told that poor kids need care and have potential. But even for those teachers, this is not the book I would recommend, because a classist teacher internalizing this book’s savioristic, bio-essentialist framing would only replace one harmful paradigm with another. What I was trained for in college was to read texts critically. Lemme tell ya, this one doesn’t hold up.