With an audible sigh of relief, news media dubbed the latest Oakland public school controversy over a teach-in about death row inmate Mumia Abu Jamal "much ado about nothing." And with good reason, at least on the surface. After all, the planned assemblies were canceled without an uproar, city officials turned full attention on the funeral of a slain police officer, and a handful of teachers who wanted to focus classroom time on the case of Mumia Abu Jamal, convicted of killing a police officer, were allowed to do so. But the controversy is far from over as far as many young people -- students and non-students alike -- are concerned. For them, the real civics lesson was watching their elders debate the pros and cons of dissent in the classroom without including their voices in the final determination. What they want more than anything is an education that is relevant to their lives -- and one that assumes they are capable of learning, as well as hungry to learn. In the following essays, YO! writers comment on the issues raised by the recent events in Oakland as they see them -- ranging from what would make schools work better to why a young man would shoot a police officer from a freeway overpass. Hazel Tesoro, Sayyadina Thomas, Redhouse Poncho, Ri'Chard Magee and Joshua Parr are on the staff YO! (Youth Outlook), a newspaper by and about young people produced by Pacific News Service.

WHY THE STREETS TEACH MORE THAN THE CLASSROOM

By Hazel Tesoro

After learning about the cancellation of the Mumia Abu Jamal assembly in Oakland, all I gotta say is, "What the hell is that all about?"

Yeah, it's true someone died and that is a sad thing. But people die every day and it's not all the time their deaths make the front page of the newspapers. Just because this time the person happened to be a cop doesn't make his death any more tragic than anybody else's. Just because he was a figure of the law doesn't mean it has to affect a bunch of kids' chance to learn something real, something important, and something that might burn their cheeks and pump up their volume.

I think the assembly would have been a great, life-learning opportunity. I would have wanted teachers to give me something like this when I was in school because just maybe, if I and other kids had been forewarned of real life situations, I could have been convinced to stay and finish my education. (I dropped out of school at sixteen years of age. My main reasons were boredom and the fact that what they taught had nothing to do with me.)

You wanna know what's even sadder than hearing of another death? It's choosing that over the next generation's education. The fact that school, which for centuries has been known as a place of learning, doesn't want to discuss with us life and politics, and that the streets give us more of an education is even more depressing.

I talked to a teacher who wanted to keep her anonymity. She told me, "The reason to study the past is to apply it to the present." She went on to say, "Unless we study lessons from the past, we're doomed to repeat them."

I asked her if it is right to teach and discuss current politics in the classroom and she answered, "Yes, we should be informed of today. But teachers don't do it because it might get volatile in class..."

Ms. V wanted to keep her anonymity because of her embarrassment at not being willing to take the risk of teaching politics in class. But you know what I heard the other day? A girl stabbed two other students in a classroom -- and I really don't think it had anything to do with a discussion about current events.

I called the Oakland, Daly City and South San Francisco school districts for input about this crucial topic but my calls were not returned. A couple of people who took my message said they'd never heard of the Mumia Abu Jamal case.

OAKLAND SCHOOLS NEED TO KEEP IT REAL!

By Sayyadina Thomas

Young people deserve to know they have political options. But did any school official ask the students in Oakland how they felt about the cancellation of the Mumia Abu Jamal teach-in because it fell on the same date as a memorial for a cop's death?

Could the real issue be that the Oakland Unified School District fears disturbing the generation it teaches? Are controversial issues avoided in order to keep students "calm"? Perhaps the School Board thinks it is in its best interest not to teach students anything that will make them challenge authority, especially on a day of mourning for what is just another tragic death of a human being.

But students should have a right to question the authorities, especially when those students generally aren't learning in school about issues that affect them directly.

We are not looking at an authority that respects the opinions of the students, or even considers the students' interests important. We are looking at adults teaching our sons and daughters and brothers and sisters and making decisions about their education based on personal fears.

One can speculate that if a tribute to Abraham Lincoln were going to be held on the same date as the officer's memorial, no one would call that immoral. Abe, however, ordered the deaths of many brave soldiers of the Confederacy in the interest of preserving the union -- so in a way he is also a murderer. Mumia Abu Jamal is scheduled to be executed for a crime he may or may not have committed -- his guilt is still being widely debated. It isn't an insult to the dead police officer to hold a teach-in on the day of the officer's memorial. Making it seem so is just another excuse to insult those who want to change the backwards politics of the Oakland school system.

When will the schools start letting the students choose their political interests instead of making all their decisions for them? Doesn't the school board have more pressing concerns to discuss -- like heating the classrooms at Castlemont High? I'm sure that cold, sick students don't learn as well as warm, comfortable students.

Oakland, please keep it real.

A VOTE FOR FREEDOM IN THE CLASSROOM

By Redhouse Poncho

As an Oakland public high school student, I think the only legitimate reason for canceling the Mumia Abu Jamal teach-in was because the cop's funeral was set for the same date. Other than that, any claims or excuses that school officials make for not holding the teach-in (like the need for "balance") are bogus.

The curriculum Oakland's students learn from needs to take a break 'cause it is TIRED. I think it's good that finally teachers want to teach something that is real and relevant instead of the same old weak stuff that many students couldn't understand even if they want to.

I wonder whether the controversy isn't really just a power struggle between school teachers and school board members. I also wonder why so many people oppose the Mumia teach-in, let alone real, useful education in the first place.

Some argue that politics are inappropriate for the classroom. Give me a break! Whoever thinks that's true is probably scared to let the truth be told in the classroom as opposed to the biased curriculum the state issues to its public schools.

I feel that ultimately the choice to follow through with the Mumia teach-in should and will be made by the teachers. After all, in their classrooms with their students, they have the academic freedom that allows them to do so.

THE PRICE OF A COP'S BLOOD

By Ri'Chard Magee

The Oakland, California school district recently canceled a planned teach-in on death row prisoner Mumia Abu Jamal because, they said, it was insensitive to hold the event on the same day as the funeral of a murdered cop. To me, "sensitivity" is not the real issue. The issue is the price of a cop's blood, and the cost of maintaining police control over society.

When a cop is killed, we are expected to take special notice, because he supposedly gave his life protecting us. But where I grew up -- the inner city -- someone painting the picture of cops as civil servants would no doubt be subjected to scorn and ridicule. I can recall Young Life, who was shot over 50 times. Or Street Frog, who was rammed into a garage by the police while on his dirt bike. I remember seeing my mother protest my brother's arrest and be dealt a bone-crushing blow to the ankle for it.

The police have always made it painfully obvious that our blood wasn't a hundredth as good as theirs. Where I grew up, if someone called to say that he was being shot at, the police would get there in ten to thirty minutes. But whenever I saw an officer who was being fired upon call for back-up, he always got it in less than two minutes. What made other police officers deem their colleagues' situation more important than that of the average citizen? What made their danger more dangerous than anyone else's?

The plight, feelings and pain of my community and others like it have never really mattered to the police. Our blood is not as valuable.

Police officers for the most part see their position of authority as absolute and inalienable, regardless of their own moral character. This mind state creates a situation in which police officers (sometimes unintentionally) view themselves as above the law. Any look, any wrong word, any gesture can be interpreted as an invasion of their right to command absolute respect at all times. This leads to them beating people up, shooting people a lot quicker, and asking confrontational questions like "You calling me a liar?", "You looking at me?", or my personal favorite, "You got a problem?" In effect they develop the attitude of the Gango Bangus, commonly referred to as the gang banger.

A cop was arresting me once and mentioned beating me. I got scared and took off. My running caused him to fall. I was caught and pinned down by many cops. When he arrived on the scene, the first thing he did was punch me in my face. I was clearly subdued and incapacitated, but his perspective on himself had been shaken by me causing him to fall. His power had to be reaffirmed through my pain.

The fact that the Oakland school district banned a discussion that might touch on police and governmental corruption shows the stronghold that the police's own view of their role in society has on all of us.

When I was young, I wanted to be a police officer, but after a couple of first-hand experiences I decided against it. The blood of a cop is no more precious than mine or anybody else's.

TEACHER, TEACHER, WILL YOU STAY?

By Joshua Parr

It's 8:30 am at Castlemont High in East Oakland. African American, Latino and Polynesian students meander from the main building toward the maze of wooden barracks behind the gym where most classrooms are housed. The aging portables are divided by high chain link fences.

Outside the portables, the paint is peeling. Inside, portable heaters blast warmth. It's an improvement over the freezing rooms students and teachers endured in December. Inside, the topic of the day appears to be substitute teachers.

"We got this crazy sub once who sang and danced for us," says Chris, an African American senior. "He was hella talented."

"And," says a senior girl, "we got others who just come in and do nothing. They even bring in a book and sit there and read while we do nothing."

"And another one, man, he just writes up a lesson on the board and tells us to do it, and if you ask him for help, he tells you to get a tutor," says another girl.

The teacher, a 40-something white woman, chimes in.

"But you can't blame the subs all the time. I was one, once. Sometimes you come into a room and there's nothing for you to do. There's no books, no lesson, and you don't know what the other subs were teaching before you got there."

At 10:35 a.m., in Portable 6, a 30-something African American teacher, tells his students, "They thought you needed someone 6'3" and 200 pounds -- that's why they sent me."

The substitute teacher practiced law before coming to Castlemont.

"Are you going to be here until the end of the year?" a student asks.

Instead of answering, the teacher demands the essay on "any social issue -- homelessness, drug use, teenage pregnancy, things like that" which he'd assigned the day before. But the student wasn't having it.

"I don't care about writing. Are you going to be here for the rest of the year?" the student asks.

"Listen, if you don't write, you're going to fail. And if you fail, you ain't walking across that stage in May," the teacher retorts.

The three other students in his class write quietly about the issue closest to their hearts -- substitute teachers.

"We can be doing work for all our subs and we aren't even getting credit for it," writes Mayra Duran, a Latina senior. "We need grades for this class to graduate."

"I don't know how they're going to get their grades," the teacher admits later, after the students leave class. "This is only my second day here."