Creating Tomorrow's Schools Today

I'm just about half way through Richard Gerver's most excellent Creating Tomorrow's Schools Today: Education - Our Children - Their Futures.

I am enjoying every word.

Some of the highlights so far.

Chapter 1 - "Education and the changing world: The imperative for change" 

This chapter begins with an examination of education in Chna.

Interestingly enough, Gerver discusses how China has redesigned its education system.  Oddly, for all that we hear about China being our biggest competitor, their redesigned education system doesn't focus on any of the 21st skills that so many people here are demanding we teach more in our schools.  Instead, China's national standards are designed to produce a very technically efficient educated class of worker.  These people will work in the technology facilities spring up all over China.

This sounds to me very reminiscent of what America's education system first was founded to do: train American's growing immigrant population to eventually become the blue collar working class.  But America's education system also had another very important goal: to train citizens.

Time and again I am hearing all about how a sound education system trains its citizens to function in a democracy.  That means they are taught to question, to debate, to think, and to analyze (well, they used to be taught that before NCLB put all of our efforts into basic skills).  And it's no wonder that the death of the liberal arts education (which was all about questioning, debating, thinking, and analyzing) coincides with our most divided American society ever.  Just look at those in congress to see how well they have been taught to question, debate, think, and analyze.  What a joke.

China's big loss is that they focus so much on being one nation, one people, and having one vision that their emphasis on national curriculum (where you can walk into any Chinese school and be assured that all will be on the same lesson and page as every other school) is all about conformity.

I think America's strength (and weakness too) is its variety.  We have (albeit rapidly vanishing) performing arts schools.  We have liberal arts schools.  Tech schools. Military academies.  Alternative schools. Charters.  Huge public schools.  Tiny private schools.  Rural schools.  This variety is key to who we are as Americans.  It always has been.

When I worked as editor for the NCTC student paper, a fellow writer did an article on all the various colleges/universities in MN.  He discovered that there were close to 90 institutions of higher learning in MN alone.

It seems to me with all that variety there are many opportunities for people to make something of themselves.  It doesn't have to be earning a scholarship to the U of M.  It doesn't mean being the fifth generation in your family to attend Gustavus.  It could mean attending a vocational school for two years and heading into the work force.  It could mean attending a regional four year college.  Or it could mean earning an AA from a community college and then transferring to a four year school. 

This variety is certainly lacking in China.  And I think that while what they are doing to become one of the chief world powers is amazing, they are doing it at a huge cost to their citizens.

Ch. 2 - "Harnessing the power of our children: Do we realize their potential" 

This tackles what I have come to call "the myth of nostalgia" where any previous generation looks down their noses at the upcoming generation.  The older generation can't relate to the new generation, as Gerver recognizes, because the world is ever changing and the world the older generation came of age in is gone.  Thus, the upcoming generation changes as the world does.  So when the older generation shakes their head at the younger generation and thinks, "we just don't get these kids,"  they are quite right.  The younger generation has adapted and evolved to function in the world that they will come of age in.  And that world is far different from the world of the previous generation.

I like to think I came of age in the late '80s and early '90s.  But much of world is extinct.  The things I clung to - hair metal and grunge rock, four different TV channels (and no remote control, let alone vcr), cassettes and Walkmen, a total lack of digital culture, evening meals with my mother, living on a farm 10 miles from town and going to town maybe once a week - are gone.  The things my kids cling to - laptops, cell phones, instant contact and communication, a wild variety of activities, zero isolation, traveling far more than I ever did as a youth - these are their ways.  No wonder I shake my head at them.  Their world is utterly alien to the one I grew up in.  My kids multi-task at lightning speed (it's nothing to see KoKo on her laptop doing a variety of things - watching youtube, monitoring FB, and surfing the web, and texting on her cell phone and listening to music either on her iPod or her laptop.  Meanwhile she is playing a video game or watching TV and drawing or sketching.  When I was a kid - the extent of my multi-tasking was listening to my Walkman while I read a book.

But they have so much more to offer.  as Gerver states: "They are exposed to so much so young. They witness events and issues in ways we never did: wars, terrorists acts, sports, celebrities have all been given a new and different reality."  I remember watching the news reports of the Gulf War.  I'll never forget those night vision scenes of SCUD missiles flying over the gulf. But it was relegated to the news that cut in during regular scheduled TV.  That was it.

internet and get updated by the minute.  They can also see Tweets and FB status that offers an inside look at events unfolding.  They can also catch blog entries from soldiers (we used to read these when the war on terror was just starting).

Teens today are adept at handling this.  It seems insanely busy to me, but I'm not adept at handling it.

This presents a problem for education because - for the most part - most teachers are still doing the same things we did 20 years ago.  We need to catch up and use technology and pop culture and multi media to capture students and make good on their vast potential.  Like never before, students have the ability to really be in charge of their own learning and to craft their content (think of a social studies teacher who, instead of assigning Ch. 4 on the Normandy Invasion and handing out a term sheet, a cross word sheet, and assigning the questions at the end of the chapter, chooses to let students select the period that is most intriguing to them.  Instead of term sheets, cross words, and questions at the end of the chapter, students could create a blog that uses hypertext, video, podcasts, artwork, and so on to illustrate what they learn about).  I'm not a millennial and that latter assignment sounds a hell of a lot more interesting and engaging than 95% of the work I did in high school.

Ch. 3  - "Making school matter - Selling school to our children."

This is my second favorite chapter so far.  Its premise is simple: we live in a culture saturated in advertising and marketing.  Yet, we don't do this with our schools.  Actually, I can think of one good example of marketing a school.  Here it is -



This reminds me of a great quote from this chapter, "we need to find ways to make education the new rock 'n' roll."

Now imagine if every school presented something like the New Brunswick video to the public.  Or, better yet, imagine if every teacher tried to advertise and market their individual classes like this!

Gerver wonders why our kids nag us to death to buy them the latest technology or video game.  He states that it is "[B]ecause successful marketing and the quality of the product are so good that every child and, indeed, many adults feel that ownership will make their lives better."

What would our world look like if students (and parents) felt that way about school?  Instead we get the predominant attitude of "School sucks."  KoKo said this yesterday and truly meant it.  She is not against learning, she is against all the work that learning takes.  She is against the intrusion school means for her social life and her sleep.  I saw this same attitude from my nephew Austin when he stayed with us last spring.

I bet if you sat down with our students, a vast majority would state the same opinion.

Why?

We don't do a good enough job selling school and its importance.  It gets sold as something students have to suffer through.  I think this is one reason - if one can pull it off - that home schooling is so effective.  It's hard to see it as 'school' when it is at home and embedded in the very fabric of ones life.  I recall one of my students - who was home schooled until high school - talking about how he has ha reading class centered totally around his favorite books - The Lord of the Rings trilogy.  Perfect and relevant and meaningful.  Public education is not like that at all.

And that's part of the problem.

Just think of when students walk into our classes.  How often do we take what they are talking about or what is important to them and tie it into the lesson and what is being covered in class?  Not often enough.  Instead students are told to be quiet, sit still, and listen to what the teacher has to say.  And often what ever it is that the teacher has to say has very little to do with what the students are interested in.  It certainly isn't part of the fabric of their lives.

We don't grab them and change them the way their favorite bands do or their favorite TV shows do.  But it doesn't have to be that way.

Ch. 4 - "The positivity of failure - How making mistakes makes a difference."

Here is my favorite chapter.  The title of this chapter reminds me of a great line I heard from a podcast by the President of Duke, Professor Richard Broadhead, when discussing with a colleague the things that underclassmen need to experience in order to earn a Duke education, not just a Duke degree: "students need to free themselves from the tyranny of success."

I'll never forget that line.  How often do we see students who are so caught up in keeping their precious 4.0 GPAs or winning every game or earning an A even, that they never take risks.

One needs to look no farther than NCLB and the punitive measures it exacts on school districts to see that failure is not an option.  How can learning and growth occur in such a system?  It can't.  That's one of the myriad of reasons why NCLB has been an utter disaster.

The same is true for the high stakes testing NCLB uses to measure students and schools.  Teachers are terrified of students failing those damned tests.  So what do they do?  Teach to the tests and focus on test taking skills.  This usually means doing less of what students enjoy, such as delving in to subjects that students find really interesting (as opposed to what the state or federal government says students should find interesting).  This often takes the form of a teacher sharing a person story or event from their own lives and then getting off track and discussing with the class.  Then you look up at the clock and realize the bell is about to ring.  When does that every happen when you are going over test taking skills?

I can still recall the stories one of my favorite teachers, Mr. Coenen, used to tell.  I recall one how he and some friends risked life and limb to climb an old sky jump and carve their initials in to it.  As a mere seventh grader, I could relate to that.  And I've never forgotten that story.  Or I've never forgotten the story Mr. Matzke told me about waiting in line to receive his diploma and be an official history teacher with his classmates.  It was at this time that one of his friends, who happened to be standing next to him, turned to Mr. Matzke and said, "I don't think I want to teach."  As a freshmen, I could relate to the story. I made my mind up to be damn sure I knew what I wanted to do with my life.  There was the time Mr. Sorenson brought in his own story for creative writing and read it to us.  I realized the power of revision and sharing one's work with students right then.

Those were stories and diversions from lesson plans that could never be measured on a test.  But I learned so much from them.

The real problem with all of the high stakes testing insanity (just saw via a Tweet by Diane Ravitch that districts are now testing five year olds!) is that it stigmatizes mistakes.

In a great interview at Cal Berkley Leon Botstein talked about the true damage of high stakes testing: there is no immediate feedback.  A child might learn his score quickly, but he never gets to see what questions he got wrong and what the right answers were.  Botstein adds this analogy - imagine if you're playing baseball and you get a hit.  Instead of heading to first base, you take off for third.  Everyone on your team - if not in the whole ballpark - would give you feedback immediately.  And you'd never make that error again.  But imagine if sports were run like standardized tests.  You play the game and get a report six weeks later informing you that you lost!  Where is the value in that?

We only learn from our mistakes, and high stakes testing stigmatize those every step of the way.

Plus, there is this fallacy out there that Gerver points out: "i remember being told as a child that your ability to pass exams and eventually gain a degree demonstrated to future employers your ability to stick to a task, your resilience."

Two words for that: 'bull shit.'

Yet, we perpetuate lies like this all the time.  Not because it's good for kids.  But because it's easy for teachers to tell that lie so kids will try hard and behave.  Unfortunately, that is also reflected by NCLB.

This, of course, is replicated by our society as a whole.  Look at our fascination with winning - Who Wants to be a Millionaire? American Idol. The Amazing Race. Big Brother.  Our ridiculous fascination with sports.  All focused on winning.

This paragraph from Gerver is so true: "One thing is clear above all else: we live in a society where the risk of failure is seen as something to be avoided at all costs.  We live in a world where there are two options: right or wrong, pass or fail.  As a result, we are a culture obsessed with winners, a culture that worships and envies winners at the same time.  We are society that derides 'losers'. As a result, very few people take risks, jump in and give it a go."

Thus, Richard Broadhead concludes, "Free yourself from the tyranny of success."

If you don't risk anything, how will you ever grow or learn?  Perhaps, this is but one reason we live in such a divisive society today.

People are afraid to be wrong.  When was the last time you ever head any of these people - Keith Olbermann, Rush Limbaugh, Glenn Beck, Michael Moore, or Ann Coulter say they were wrong?

Gerver sums it up best with the line: "you learn nothing new from getting everything right."

I know this to be personally true.  When I was an undergrad, I learned the most in my Advanced Writing class from the wonderful Dr. Helen Bonner.  I had received A's on most of my papers, but in her class I worked and worked and couldn't break the B plus barrier.  Finally, I sat down and examined the marks and comments she had made on one of my essays.  Then I re-wrote it and made the revisions she suggested.  And you know what?  It was better.

I had learned from my failures.  It was one of the my most rewarding experiences in college.  And I've never forgotten it.

But our students often don't learn that lesson.  Indeed, I think this is one of the millennials' real weaknesses.  They have been so insulated by Mommy and Daddy that they are not used to falling flat on their faces.  Just think of all those elementary tournaments where players get awards just for participating.

I am often hard on athletics, but here is at least a chance to experience failure and learn from it.  I just wished it happened more often in class.

Ch. 5 - "Who do we create our schools for? Ensuring that we focus on our children"


Quick.  Answer that question.  If you ask ten teachers, I bet you'll get ten different answers.  Some - those who call for national standards - see this as the problem.  I don't though.  I see that as a strength.

I don' want KoKo to have the same methods and practices in every English class she has a Lincoln.  I want her to be exposed to a variety of ideas and practices and attitudes.  Some will be task masters.  Others will be ramblers.  Some will focus on structure and grammar.  Others will focus on voice and style.

This I think is a great thing.

National standards are developed in response to a fear (and a legit one I think) that a student's learning experience varies so much from one school to the next.  I just don't think national standards will change that.  I fear it will force us into a standardization of teaching that will drum out the last bit of interest and joy left in the classroom.

Here is the conundrum for those supporting national standards - and this example comes from Gerver - he once taught with Jean, an elementary school teacher who structured her lessons around wherever she and her husband travelled over the summer.  If it was Egypt, guess what?  The class learned all about pyramids, pharaohs, and the Nile.  Each year was different, and the kids loved it.  As Gerver states: "Her secret was quite simple: she would introduce the children to different worlds, take them to places they had never been and were unlikely to go."

While all these children were engaged and learning, the national standards folks want to know how this will prepare those students for the real world.  Furthermore, what skills are they really learning that they will need to use later in life.

Great points.

Gerver, who had structured and boring lesson plans, just marvelled at how Jean had those kids in the palm of her hand.  His lesson didn't do that to the kids.

He was meeting the standards and objectives, but were his kids learning anything more meaningful that the kids in Jean's class?  Gerver notes, "Jean was like many teachers of her day.  Children were everything.  The richness of learning was in the experience.  With the National Curriculum, this was largely lost."

So standards were set up to make sure all teachers were striving to give kids 'real world' skills.  But this fails even worse than what Jean had been doing, for "The irony is that, if anything, the system has become even further removed from children."  At least, Jean's students were engaged and experience some sort of richness of learning.  Standardization tends to squash that.

This leads to another great irony - "Some of the highest performing schools in our national league tables are offering pupils some of the poorest educational experiences."  I think he means that earning high marks on all those high stakes tests doesn't offer a richness of learning, and thus kids have basic skills but no passion or drive or enthusiasm.  Plus, where is the proof that kids who score higher on tests are better in the work force than those who don't?

How high would Hemingway (his work would have been too short and underdeveloped), Einstein (they'd never read his handwriting or make sense of his equations), Faulkner (they'd never penetrate his prose), Rothko (they'd never understand him), Dylan (he'd piss them off on purpose), or  cummings (with his unique punctuation and syntax, he'd never stand a chance) have fared on high stakes tests.

Now I'm sure there are millions who would have scored wonderfully on those tests.  But we've never heard from them . . . unless they are toiling away in the bowels of a university some where teaching the five paragraph theme and lecturing all hour.

Ultimately, I've been swayed by Ken Robinson.  I think schools are (or should be) designed to allow kids to experiment and discover and ultimately find their passion(s).  When they find their passion(s), do everything we can to stoke it and build it up.

Well, that's as far as I've made it into the book.  I'd probably be done with it if I hadn't stopped to spend three days working on this blog entry.  But I've discovered my passion.  And it was worth every word to me.