crire_pour_exister_-freedom_writerslight ( PDF
Transcription
crire_pour_exister_-freedom_writerslight ( PDF
Écrire pour exister est un film américain de Richard La Gravenese sorti en 2007. Ce film est tiré d'une histoire vraie et de l'essai pédagogique collectif The Freedom Writers Diary , écrit par Erin Gruwell et par sa classe. Le film a été récompensé par le Humanitas Prize. ! ! Erin Gruwell, jeune professeur d'anglais de 23 ans, fille dʼun ancien militant des marches pour les droits civiques des afro-américains avant lʼassassinat de son leader, le pasteur Martin Luther King, le 4 avril 1968, a choisi comme premier poste un lycée difficile de Long Beach à Los Angeles, un des quartiers les plus chauds de la West Coast, aux surlendemains des émeutes raciales qui ont secoué la Californie. Le rappel des faits constituant le contexte social et culturel du film est le suivant : les émeutes de 1992 à Los Angeles ont débuté le 29 avril 1992 après quʼun jury, composé de blancs, dʼun asiatique et dʼun latino, eut acquitté quatre officiers de police poursuivis en justice. En tout, entre cinquante et soixante personnes furent tuées durant ces émeutes. Les émeutes durèrent six jours, bien que les évènements les plus importants eussent lieu entre le soir du verdict et le troisième jour. Au final, on dénombra entre 50 et 60 morts et 4 000 arrestations et des dommages matériels s'élevant entre 800 millions et un milliard de dollars. Il y eut plus de 3 600 départs de feu, détruisant 1 100 bâtiments. Après un déploiement important de la police et de la garde nationale sur place, plusieurs milliers de personnes furent arrêtées, dont 36 % d'afro-américains, 52 % d'hispaniques (américains originaires d'Amérique latine) et 10 % d'américains d'origine européenne non- ! hispanique. En 1993, le calme revenu, les policiers auteurs des exactions furent finalement rejugés par un tribunal fédéral et condamnés à 30 mois de prison. Des violences ont aussi eu lieu à Seattle, Oakland, San Francisco, Las Vegas et San Diego pour la côte ouest, New York, Philadelphie et Atlanta pour la côte est, sans toutefois atteindre le degré des émeutes de Los Angeles. À lʼorigine du premier procès, un citoyen afro-américain, Rodney Glen King, né le 2 avril 1965 à Sacramento (Californie). Le 3 mars 1991 à Los Angeles, il est arrêté par des policiers du Los Angeles Police Department (LAPD) lors d'un contrôle radar. Roulant à 160 km/h en état d'ébriété, il arrête néanmoins son véhicule. Cependant, il se débat, refuse de coopérer et agresse les quatre policiers présents qui se ruent alors sur lui et tentent de le maitriser avec des matraques électriques. Mais devant la résistance de Glen King, ils le rouent de coups. Son passage à tabac, d'une rare violence, fut filmé par un témoin vidéo amateur, George Holliday, un habitant du quartier environnant, qui prit à distance la majeure partie des faits. La vidéo qui en fut tirée et le procès qui sʼensuivirent furent largement médiatisés aux États-Unis. Le film dure au total neuf minutes et vingt secondes, dont sont extraites cent trois secondes montrant les agressions physiques des policiers. Cette séquence est reprise par les chaînes de télévision du monde entier, provoquant ainsi une indignation générale. « Pooh » Allen et Freddie Helms, qui étaient passagères dans la voiture de Rodney « Glen King » (surnom donné par ses amis et sa famille à Rodney), n'ont certes pas été battues par la police mais elles ont été soumises à une violence morale puisqu'elles ont été contraintes d'assister impuissantes au tabassage de leur ami. Vingt-quatre autres policiers étaient présents sur la scène du tabassage et ne sont pas intervenus. Cʼest donc le fait de lʼacquittement des policiers et le sentiment dʼinjustice qui constituèrent les facteurs déclencheurs des émeutes de 1992 à Los Angeles. Le rappel du contexte, effectué au début du film par un recours à quelques images dʼarchives de reportage et de journaux télévisés sur les émeutes de Los Angeles, permet de mieux prendre la mesure de lʼengagement éducatif, de lʼenthousiasme militant qui anime la jeune enseignante, pleine de détermination, d'espoir mais aussi de naïveté. Elle se donne à fond pour ses élèves, qui, quant à eux, plein de défiance vis-à-vis des américains WASP, commencent par l'ignorer superbement et par se regrouper dans la salle de classe selon les seuls critères quʼils admettent et auxquels ils se soumettent, ceux des liens dʼinféodation aux gangs, prêts à s'affronter au moindre prétexte. L'ambiance empire au fil des jours, en dépit des efforts sincères et maladroits d'Erin Gruwell, pour prendre en main cette classe dʼélèves : notamment à partir du moment où elle décide de recomposer lʼattribution des places dans sa salle de cours. Les élèves dont elle a la charge sont stigmatisés par leur passé social et judiciaire et sont considérés comme « irrécupérables » par la direction administrative du lycée, contrainte, à regret pour la réputation de leur établissement, de les admettre dans leur établissement en vertu de la politique dʼ « affirmative action » ou discrimination positive menée par les autorités fédérales américaines. Un incident mineur, une caricature raciste en circulation dans la classe, met finalement le feu aux poudres, donnant du même coup à Erin l'occasion d'ouvrir le dialogue avec les jeunes. Avec tact et humour, en évitant d'instinct le piège du paternalisme, Erin parvient à fendre la glace et à instaurer avec la classe un vrai rapport de confiance. Pas à pas, à travers l'usage de la parole, des jeux puis de l'écriture, elle fait prendre conscience à ses élèves de la similitude de leur position sociale et culturelle, elle accompagne ses élèves dans une lente et délicate reconquête de leur amour propre, libérant en eux des forces, des talents et une énergie insoupçonnés... Bien qu'incomprise dans un premier temps, elle réussit finalement à enrayer les préjugés raciaux au sein de sa classe, parmi ses élèves. La preuve en est administrée lorsquʼune de ses élèves, Eva Benitez, témoigne à décharge dʼun jeune afro-américain accusé à tort dʼêtre à lʼorigine dʼun homicide dʼun jeune cambodgien et à charge contre son ami Paco, remettant en cause ainsi sa fidélité et son inféodation à son gang pour faire prévaloir la justice. Cette réussite encourageante, au lieu de rencontrer lʼintérêt et les encouragements de la communauté éducative, soulève au contraire paradoxalement la franche hostilité des autres professeurs et le harcèlement tatillon auquel se livre Margaret Campbell, la proviseure adjointe du lycée, pour contrecarrer systématiquement les initiatives pédagogiques dʼErin. Animée par un fort ressentiment pour la jeune enseignante, Margaret Campbell, partisane dʼune action purement disciplinaire à destination de ce type de public scolaire, va jusquʼà remettre en cause la compétence éducative dʼErin en dépit des succès manifestes quʼelle remporte. Hymne à la tolérance, véritable reconnaissance de la valeur de lʼaction socialisatrice de lʼécole là où les familles ont été défaillantes, « Écrire pour exister » rappelle aux spectateurs que malgré toutes les différences, les hommes sont capables de travailler ensemble pour construire un monde d'amour, plus juste, plus tolérant et en même temps plus rationnel, ouvert à lʼidée dʼœuvrer au démantèlement les discriminations étant raciale, socioculturelle et au progrès social. Cette perspective montre clairement la voie de la morale socialisatrice à suivre pour se débarrasser des conditionnements de la ségrégation afin de créer un environnement sain où chacun, libéré du contrôle social étroit exercé par son groupe social dʼappartenance, peut s'épanouir librement, sans peur des préjugés, de la coercition et des représailles exercée par les groupes sociaux dʼappartenance qui se sentent trahis. Il apporte un éclairage sur les enjeux de lʼacte de création, particulièrement exigeant, que représente une action socialisatrice à destination dʼun public scolaire sinistré sur le plan familial, au départ déviant, voire délinquant, à lʼavenir désespérément limité, souffrant dʼun besoin de « resocialisation », condition nécessaire à la réussite dʼune future intégration sociale. ! ! Erin Gruwell was a fresh-faced 24 year-old just out of graduate school, an idealistic and somewhat naïve Orange County native. She wanted to teach in Long Beach, a community she describes as a “multicultural collision of different races and economics.” What she didnʼt count on was the 1992 Los Angeles Riots in the wake of the Rodney King beating. The ensuing violence, animosity and racial tension generated a regional trail of blood that trickled down to Long Beach where a record 126 murders occurred in 1993. Itʼs hard to imagine more formidable circumstances, but Gruwell had no intention of backing down. Long Beach was her first choice, and she wasnʼt going anywhere. The start of the school year, however, found Gruwell scrambling to hold the attention, let alone gain the respect, of her unruly class at Woodrow Wilson High. “The school itself was a very segregated environment, inside and outside of the classroom,” Gruwell recalls. “But I wanted to work with so called “at-risk” students because those are the kids who fall through the cracks and need the most help.” Many talented teachers take jobs at prominent schools in the suburbs, meanwhile, urban institutions fend for themselves with fewer resources and less qualified faculty. The public education system is suffering; especially inner city schools which greatly need better staff and funding. Gruwellʼs pupils had long been written off by the time they walked into Room 203 for their first day of high school. Low test scores, stints in juvenile hall, alienation and hostility caused them to be mislabeled by the system as “unteachable,” “below average,” and “delinquents.” Many of Gruwellʼs students were from broken families, whose parents were incarcerated, on the streets, or dead. The challenge was to find a way to relate and make the curriculum pertinent to their troubled lives. Despite the fact that her students were barely in their teens, they had already experienced more heartbreak, loss and tragedy than most people will in a lifetime. They needed more than a teacher. They needed a mentor, and most importantly they needed a friend. From the first day of school, students placed bets on how long their new teacher would last at Woodrow Wilson. The diverse collection of whites, blacks, Asians and Hispanics had one thing in common from the get go: they all hated each other, and they didnʼt trust their preppy and perky teacher. A pivotal incident occurred when classmates chastised a gang member who had recently transferred from a rival school. After discovering a racial caricature being passed around the room, Gruwell had a flash of clarity she deems a “divine moment.” Intolerance leads to hatred, and she immediately put a stop to the bigotry. The first parallel that came to her mind was the Nazis' anti-Semitic propaganda. To her surprise, Gruwell was received by rows of blank faces when she spoke of this to the class. Not only did they not understand the association, but they hadnʼt even heard of the Holocaust. When she asked how many had been shot at; however, they all raised their hands. Gruwell knew it was her duty to enlighten and empower the students. She had to be flexible in order to engage a class without incentive or motivation. She quickly realized that itʼs not about teaching for a test or lecturing but rather, listening and collaborating. Gruwellʼs philosophy is that “learning doesnʼt stop after graduation…itʼs a lifelong pursuit.” Classic literature and music united the divided classroom, allowing students to find similarities among historical figures, themselves and each other. Teaching others that there is value in writing what needs to be written was the underlying purpose of composing daily journal entries. She challenged students to anonymously divulge their deepest sorrows and darkest secrets—murders, suicides, gangs, love, weight issues, immigration, dyslexia, divorces, drug abuse and more. The kids of Room 203 dubbed themselves the Freedom Writers in homage to Civil War activists the Freedom Riders. Soon the classroom became a sanctuary, indeed a family. While at Woodrow Wilson, Gruwell invited some highly influential speakers to her classroom—Miep Gies, whose attic sheltered Anne Frankʼs family during the Nazi invasion, and Zlata Filipovic, whose basement memoirs recorded the horrors of war in Sarajevo. The gracious guests illustrated the injustice of intolerance by sharing analogous tales of teens rising above a culture of violence. “We met some of the most incredible activists during this process…from Civil Rights leaders to Holocaust survivors,” Gruwell recollects. “The commonality that all of them shared was a humility and a graciousness in knowing that theyʼre fighting for something bigger than themselves.” The visitors inspired the students to chronicle their own lives, if only for the sake of cathartic venting. Little did they know that a remedial English assignment would become a New York Times best selling book. The Freedom Writers Diary: How a Teacher and 150 Teens Used Writing to Change Themselves and the World Around Them was published in 1999 to the amazement of its adoring audience. During the summer before their senior year, the Freedom Writers held an “Echoes of the Soul” fund-raising concert to finance a class trip to Washington, D.C., where they toured the Holocaust Museum and presented their diary to Secretary of Education, Richard Riley. The experience also allowed them to emulate their heroes, the Freedom Riders, by holding a peace march and prayer vigil for victims of intolerance at the Washington Monument. Soon thereafter, they won the Spirit of Anne Frank Award. The Freedom Writers Foundation has been instrumental in contributing to a decrease in drop-out rates for over a decade, challenging students to confront their collective past, present and future. The non-profitʼs purpose is to encourage teens to aspire to higher education and to promote an educational philosophy that values diversity and cultivates vital community members. Theyʼve shown young people who never considered college that itʼs not only possible, but it is in fact, practical. Instilling a sense of trust and optimism, thousands of students have been transformed through the vehicle of self-expression and tolerance. Every year, the Freedom Writers Foundation gives away scholarships to students who are the first in their families to graduate high school and attend college. They also provide financial and academic support to students for whom English is a second language, those with minor learning disabilities and others who are at risk of dropping out of high school. Additionally, the foundation donates books, as well as granting 150 teacher scholarships, training them to employ the Freedom Writersʼ method. There are pilot programs in place across the nation, Canada and beyond. The Freedom Writers Institute is a 5-day seminar led by Gruwell with support from the original Freedom Writers in Long Beach. The program is currently open to Language Arts teachers, grades 612. A collaborative book called Freedom Writers—A Teacherʼs Diary will soon be published as a guide to educational reform and the power of integration. “I really want to draw attention to the educational apartheid…public schools are not equal, but good teaching can equalize an unfair playing field,” Gruwell believes. “I want to stimulate dialogue so that people are more concerned with public education and deal with these difficult issues, forthright.” Gruwell graduated with the Freedom Writers in 1998, not only from high school, but she also served as their professor at Long Beach City College and Long Beach State. Through her steadfast guidance and support, many of the students shattered stereotypes and pursued bachelorʼs degrees, graduate programs, Ph.D.ʼs, and some even received teaching credentials. Gruwell took her students on an international field trip to Sarajevo, Amsterdam and to Auschwitz, the notorious German Nazi concentration camp in Poland. Gruwellʼs reassuring father always reminded her, “Youʼve been blessed with a burden.” That now famous line was later used in the Hollywood recreation of the Freedom Writersʼ journey. Following the airing of a primetime ABC Special, the producers of Erin Brockovich sought to bring the inspirational story to the silver screen. Though Gruwell hesitated at first, the filmmakers showed an overwhelming desire to partner on the venture and preserve its veracity. They consulted with Gruwell about everything from the screenplay to casting, setting the entire film in Long Beach and even hiring some of the original Freedom Writers as extras. Paramount Pictures released the film in 2007 starring Hilary Swank in the role of Erin Gruwell. The Freedom Writers movie received rave reviews and finally gave the voiceless and misunderstood an opportunity to speak out. “I was initially apprehensive because I didnʼt want to trivialize these very personal stories—itʼs hard to avoid making a cheesy, after-school special when dealing with issues of race and equality,” Gruwell admits. “But the filmmakers were very concerned with credibility, and they did it justice.” Gruwell wants to transform classrooms into havens that feel safe and accepting to the students, hoping to inspire urban youth to succeed academically, change their communities and share their own stories. Her underdog students have shown that itʼs about the journey as much as the destination and the importance of learning history is to avoid repeating past mistakes. The goal of this humanitarian movement is to pay it forward, and Gruwell remains thankful for the exposure that helped spread the message around the world. The scope of Freedom Writersʼ outreach has not only surpassed Gruwellʼs expectations but also her wildest dreams. She has given over a thousand presentations and workshops to teachers, schools, juvenile halls, corporations, government institutions and community groups nationwide. “We have to design curriculums that are more relevant to teenagers, and transform school into a student-centered environment,” Gruwell asserts. “If anything, I hope that kids find their voice, pick up a pen and tell their own story so they donʼt feel alone.” From donations to sponsorships, your support helps teachers inspire students to have a vested interest in their classroom and community. Free your mind at www.freedomwritersfoundation.org Derek Shaw is a musician, skateboarder and writer. He loves his black lab Spot and Spot loves him. Check him and his band out at myspace.com/dovesanddesperados !