47 pages • 1 hour read
Carla ShalabyA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Content Warning: This section contains discussions of racism.
A central theme in Troublemakers is the way that mainstream school culture demands strict conformity and obedience from students. Dress codes, speech rules, restrictive movement regulations, and narrow social interaction norms all serve this end, enforcing an idea of discipline and uniformity that transcends any particular rule. Students who fail or refuse to comply with schools’ stringent demands face punishments ranging from public scolding to outright removal from the classroom community. Shalaby asserts that such exclusion is “a way to cement the identity of a child as a troublemaker” (152); by locating the problem in the individual, schools assert the cohesion of the remainder of the classroom. At the same time, schools in effect engender “trouble” by establishing these rigid, limiting expectations for conduct and decorum, as all nonconformity becomes a problem. Shalaby suggests that creative, questioning students like Zora, Lucas, Sean, and Marcus are the collateral damage of this vicious cycle.
Shalaby’s imagery of songbirds in captivity suggests that there is something inherently cruel and deadening about “caging” children’s spirits with strict codes of conduct. Sean bluntly encapsulates school’s hidden curriculum: “You’re supposed to just do everything” (110). However, Shalaby implies that in practice, much of the problem with demands for conformity lies in the cultural biases that often underpin schools’ definitions of acceptable behavior, speech, appearance, and social conduct. Environments privileging white middle-class norms spark conflict with students coming from different cultural backgrounds or with different developmental needs. Such schools reward assimilation while discouraging difference through punishments that range from public scolding to expulsion. The demand for cultural homogeneity takes many forms, including insistence on standard English rather than home dialects and dress codes that ban particular cultural expressions. As Shalaby’s discussion of the Forest School reveals, even seemingly progressive schools with dynamic curricula can perpetuate a “white-bread American” culture that marginalizes students of color (7). In all cases, Shalaby argues, the policing of difference engenders trauma and resistance: Restrictive regulation breeds both spiritual wounds and school-to-prison pipelines as nonconformists refuse attempts to erase their personhood.
The book ties this examination of conformity to an exploration of the simultaneous dynamics of social invisibility and heightened visibility that often trouble marginalized students. Zora’s biracial identity and class background make her an outlier at her nearly all-white suburban school. Her silliness and drama garner attention—a way of coping with her social isolation—even as they reinforce her difference by earning her the label of “troublemaker.” Teachers’ efforts to redirect her toward conformity and silence therefore fall flat, as they fail to recognize that these would merely be new forms of invisibility.
By tracing exclusion and “invisibility” as consequences of conformity, Shalaby implicates the behavioral control embedded in school culture as a barrier to belonging. Her “troublemaker” portraits expose dynamics that deny children, especially marginalized children, their rights to be seen, heard, and embraced in public school classrooms.
A second central theme permeating Shalaby’s discussion of “misbehavior” is the concept of students purposefully disrupting classrooms to communicate unmet social-emotional needs and to resist institutional harms. Where conventional wisdom frames “troublemakers” in terms of individual pathology or “badness,” Shalaby theorizes that such behaviors aim to spotlight systemic deficiencies in the surrounding environment; what might look like disruption becomes, in Shalaby’s account, “performance art” that works by disrupting the status quo.
The goal of such performance art varies according to the performer. For example, Zora’s behavior seeks to ease her social isolation and protest demands for conformity that threaten her identity. She interjects jokes and silly facial expressions during lessons to win peer attention, turning homework assignments into lively skits. Though they elicit punishment, her disruptions express a desperate call for laughs, for community, and for relief from social exclusion. This social exclusion is intimately related to the other factor underpinning her defiance: her status as one of the only students of color at Forest School. Because of the degree to which the school’s behavioral expectations are those of upper-middle-class white society, Zora in effect faces marginalization regardless of what she does: Her rebellion places her further on the classroom’s fringes, but conformity too would be a kind of erasure. Similarly, Shalaby sees Marcus’s rambunctious humor as rooted partly in social need—specifically, the need for reciprocal care and collective healing. Such resistance implicitly aims to spark radical reimagining of classrooms, urging the educational system to embrace creative solidarity over control.
This speaks to a second major function of such behavior: to challenge the power dynamics of the traditional classroom. Sean argues and questions incessantly as he fights to be heard and refuses to submit to a system that grants the teacher absolute authority while subordinating student interests. His demands to know “why?” insist that authority be justified; in effect, he demands a redistribution of classroom power. Similarly, Lucas wields willful questioning and imaginative escapism to resist regimentation and boredom. His teacher laments losing instructional time but dismisses the rigidity and tedium that fuel his exhaustion. Marcus too uses noise and movement to interrupt the teacher’s staged lessons, signaling his refusal to passively spectate. Ultimately, such students leverage antics to make space for students’ self-determination in shaping their education.
Particularly for marginalized children denied social belonging, Shalaby theorizes, disruption signals a rage that is justifiable. The troublemakers model modes of resistance countless leaders of social change movements have enacted over time. Willful defiance makes visible the exclusion of nondominant perspectives, and Shalaby proposes understanding these actions as thoughtful signaling of exclusion, dehumanization, and barriers to freedom. Drawing on imagery of “the miners’ canary,” she suggests that “troublemakers” signal invisible dangers in the surrounding culture.
A third prominent theme examines the identity clashes as marginalized students navigate tensions between home cultures that nurture their intersectional identities and a mainstream school culture that positions difference itself as problematic. Through her portraits, Shalaby traces the painful negotiations such students must endure.
The clash is particularly acute for Zora, whose parents urge her to boldly embrace her Black identity, filling the home with Black role models and self-affirming mantras encouraging her to express her full vibrant spirit. Such home environments are particularly important, Shalaby suggests, given the ubiquity of racism; the cultivation of cultural identity and racial self-love becomes a survival strategy. However, Zora attends a nearly all-white suburban school that insists on muting any markers of color. Her lively persona, however valued at home, earns scoldings at Forest School. She must therefore choose between being a “good student” as dictated by upper-middle-class white norms and embracing her racial and cultural identity.
In other cases, the clash between home and school values is subtler but still underpinned by racial/cultural difference and bias. For example, Shalaby recounts the ways Sean’s questioning nature earns respect and patient dialogue at home, a nurturing space that honors his full humanity. His school, however, interprets his behavior as defiance. His rambunctious play even sparks accusations of aggression and danger—accusations that Marcus also faces. Shalaby contends that Crossroads Elementary’s rules, which require stillness and silence, are unsuitable for many young boys, denying space for their high energy. As a young Black boy, however, Marcus is particularly likely to see his energy pathologized or even criminalized as incipient violence.
Shalaby argues that Zora, Sean, Lucas, and Marcus display wisdom about identity far beyond their years. Their protests communicate their refusal to erase vibrant, nonconforming selves merely to conform to an idea of good behavior that is raced and classed. Until classrooms embrace children’s intersectional identities, Shalaby contends, such protests will continue swelling in urgency, but heeding their warnings can be the first step in building a more inclusive society.