National Policy Trends

With Mike Rose, We Should All Be Asking - Why School?

Why School? Reclaiming Education for All of Us
by Mike Rose
(The New Press, 2009)

Reviewed by Kenneth Bernstein
High School Government & Social Studies (MD)


Teacher Leaders Network

How we think about and voice the purpose of school matters. It affects what we put in or take out of the curriculum and how we teach that curriculum. It affects the way we think about students — all students — about intelligence, achievement, human development, teaching and learning, opportunity and obligation. And all of this affects the way we think about each other and who we are as a nation.

Perhaps it may seem odd to begin the review of a book with its final words. Yet is also appropriate, because to answer the question Mike Rose poses in his title, it is necessary to consider the destination towards which we head. It is especially appropriate for this book, because this final observation explains succinctly the concerns Rose attempts to address in Why School?:

• what is in the curriculum and why
• how we teach
• how we frame what intelligence is, what we value, in school and society
• issues of opportunity for all, including appropriate remediation
• issue of common obligation that should be part of our culture as a democratic society.

Rose is in many ways uniquely qualified to take on this task. He teaches in the Graduate School of Education at UCLA. He has taught at many levels. His personal background is from working-class roots and he has maintained a sense of respect of the requirements — including intellectual — of what too many dismiss as manual labor. He is very committed to the democratic ideal that allows people to rise above their origins as he was able to do. He is a superb writer and an even better story-teller, not afraid to use stories to teach, to help us understand.

Before going on, let me provide some specifics. Why School? Reclaiming Education for All of Us is published by The New Press, which is based in New York City, and which was established two decades ago as a not-for-profit alternative to large publishing houses. The publishing house

operates in the public interest rather than for private gain, and is committed to publishing, in innovative ways, works of educational, cultural, and community value that are often deemed insufficiently profitable.

I quote those words from the page containing the copyright information for several reasons. First, this book definitely meets the test of educational and community value, as I hope this review will demonstrate. Next, the mission of the publisher is very much in conformity with both the purpose of this book and the focus of Mike Rose’s life work, which is to have us committed to a broad sense of common purpose. And finally, I truly think this book may well disprove the notion about being "insufficiently profitable."

On that same page Rose informs us that the essays in the book are reworked from a number of previously published pieces on which he holds the copyright. Had one not read those words, or the words in the introduction where he explains the purpose of the book, one might well think this was a book written at one time with one purpose. In that sense it is consistent with much of the work of Rose in his writing and his teaching.



I am more than tempted to offer extensive quotations because Rose is so fluid and insightful a writer. I will offer some to illustrate key points.

Rose begins by telling us a story about Anthony, a young man enrolled in a basic skills program at a community college where Rose was then teaching. He recounts an episode of someone who greets Anthony, a brain-damaged man in his 30s who could barely read and write but who was self-educated. It turned out the man was a dean, but had also once been Anthony’s parole officer. Anthony may not be the kind of person about whom we think when we discuss educational policy, but even twenty years after that encounter Rose helps us understand why it should. Anthony is in the program to better be able to guide his daughter, to continue his self-education, “To create a new life for himself, nurture this emerging sense of who he can be” (p. 4). Rose tells us that the chapters in the book deal with the topics that inform Anthony’s story. Then on that same page we encounter a remarkable paragraph that I feel I must quote it its entirety:
 It matters a great deal how we collectively talk about education, for that discussion both reflects and, in turn, affects policy decisions about what gets taught and tested, about funding, about what we expect schooling to contribute to our lives. It matters, as well, how we think about intelligence, how narrowly or broadly we define it. Our beliefs about intelligence affect everything from the way we organize school and work to how we treat each other. And it surely matters how we think about opportunity - that phrase is a core part of our national story. But opportunity is determined by public attitudes and public policy. Yes, in a sense and at times, we make our own opportunity; that self-reliance is another part of our national story. But from large-scale initiatives and programs (the G. I. Bill or Head Start, for example) to the funding for a coach in a local park, opportunity is created through some form of specific and deliberate action.
Mike Rose was kind enough to talk with me about the book. He decided to write it in 2007 because he was very worried about the nation's future educational policies. It was a time when there was serious discussion on reauthorization of the Elementary and Secondary Education Act, which in its current incarnation was commonly called No Child Left Behind (after the Bush proposal of that title). He felt that too many of those whose voices were being heard were oblivious to a number of things, many of which had been a consistent part of his own 40 years of teaching. The perspective of the student was missing. The reality of the impact of poverty upon the lives of students was rarely seen. The different reality of rural schools was totally ignored. There was also a shocking devaluation of the learning and skill required for many working class jobs, and a concomitant restricting of the curriculum for the children from working class and immigrant families in order to raise their test scores. Having written on a number of these issues in the past, Rose felt he could start with his previous pieces and rework them as part of a coherent attempt to address some of the issues he felt were either being ignored or not fully and honestly perceived.

Thus while Rose greatly values the opportunity education has provided — and views his own life as an example thereof — he reminds us in his introduction that
education alone is not enough to trump some social barriers like racist hiring practices or inequality in pa based on gender. Furthermore, for disadvantaged populations - particularly the most impoverished - education must be one of a number of programs that would include health care, housing family assistance and so on (p. 13).
He revisits this idea in the chapter titled “No Child Left Behind and the Spirit of Democratic Education” where he reminds us that
The rhetoric of “no excuses” - though it has a legitimate point to make - can deflect our attention from the plain, brutal reality of so many young people’s lives (pp. 30-31).
In “Politics and Knowledge” and “Reflections on Intelligence in Workplace and the School,”, his fifth and sixth (of thirteen) chapters (and there is a conclusion), Rose offers some of his most valuable insights, including his respect for both the capabilities of people of working class background and for the requirements and skill of the work they do. Having come from a working class background, and having studied the thought required to do blue-collar and service work, Rose makes us focus on how we demean and diminish categories of work and the people who fill them, disconnect our schooling from the vocational paths that many of our young people will follow, and perpetuate an unfortunate historical pattern that belittles those not rooted in the academy and the formal professions. As Rose points out, this ignores a crucial part of our past. He reminds us that “Shakespeare was as popular on the frontier as in the city” (p. 68) and “My Uncle Frank, a railroad machinist, would quote Longfellow in his letters’ (p. 69). He writes that
As an ideal, democracy assumes the capacity of the common person to learn, to think independently, to decide thoughtfully (p. 85).
Further, there is a real danger in an attitude that belittles common work as mindless, that the instruction we develop will fail to develop instructional connections among the different kinds of skills and knowledge. And worse:
If we think that whole categories of people - identified by class, by occupation - are not that bright, then we reinforce social separation and cripple our ability to talk across our current cultural divides (p. 86).
There is so much more of value in this book. Rose argues that post-secondary institutions should not be so harsh on the need to provide remedial courses lest we close yet another door of opportunity to those who start with less and whose schooling is insufficient to compensate for that. He writes forcefully that our discussions focused on achievement do not include “curiosity, reflectiveness, uncertainty, or a willingness to take a chance, to blunder” and we rarely hear about “intellect, aesthetics, joy, courage, creativity, civility, understanding . . . think of how rarely we hear of commitment to public education as the center of a free society.” (both quotes from p. 27)

You have already read the final paragraph of this magnificent book, a relatively slender volume (169 pages without the acknowledgements and footnotes), but one that contains much of value. I would hope  all who are now engaged or hoping to become engaged in the making of educational policy would take the time to read and ponder what Rose has to offer. As Rose writes in his concluding chapter, there are a series of questions we must urgently explore:
how to educate a vast population, how to bring schooling to all, what to teach and how to teach it, who will do it, what the work will mean to them — what we can help it mean to them . . .because we haven’t satisfactorily answered them (p. 164).
Rose has a special concern about our troubled history educating children of the working class, a history I would argue is being extended by some of the effects of No Child Left Behind and may well be exacerbated by some of the policies being promulgated by the current administration.

Perhaps you will decide that you disagree with Mike Rose on some of the issues, but if you read this book you will, I can assure you, find yourself considering some of those questions we have yet to satisfactorily answer in new ways. That broadening of our thinking about educational questions is by itself a strong justification for reading the book.

So let me be blunt. Read the book. Urge others to read it as well. I plan to pass on the link for this review to many I know involved with educational policy, from my local school board and superintendent to Members of the House Committee on Education and Labor. That may not remove the volume from the category of “insufficiently profitable” that The New Press uses as part of its justification. I think that would not bother Mike Rose. The book clearly meets the primary test of the publisher, that is a work “of educational, cultural, and community value.” If more people will take the time to consider the issues Mike Rose addresses, I know he will be more than grateful.

In short, read this book. You will not be sorry.

Kenneth J. Bernstein is a National Board-certified teacher of social
studies at Eleanor Roosevelt High School Eleanor Roosevelt High School
in Greenbelt, Md., and a member of the Teacher Leaders Network. He is
nationally known as a blogger on education and other issues under his
online name of teacherken. Bernstein is also a 2010 recipient of The Washington Post’s Agnes Meyer Outstanding Teacher Award.

Caring Teachers and Confident Students

Teaching as an Act of Love
by Richard Lakin
(iUniverse, 2009)

The Complete Guide to the Gap Year
by Kristin M. White
(Jossey-Bass, 2009)

Reviewed by David M. Cohen, NBCT
High School English & Counseling (CA)
Teacher Leaders Network

Newspapers (for those of us who still read them) and online reports provide a steady flow of stories that might induce stress in teachers and students. I find I can immerse myself in this constant stream and become dizzy — or step aside and feel marginalized when the education policy conversation is dominated by talk of data systems, national standards, and racing to the top without leaving a single child behind.

Meanwhile, the juniors and seniors I advise at my high school, and their families, are looking at the spiraling costs for public and private higher education and reacting with anxiety as they hear about increasing competition in college admissions.

With that backdrop, I’m glad I took the time to read a pair of books that were recently sent to me. Richard Lakin is a former teacher and principal whose self-published collection of anecdotes and reflections seems almost provocatively titled in this educational climate. Teaching as an Act of Love (iUniverse) provides a variety of vignettes and affirmations that span 40 years of educational experience. For the high school student and family, Kristin M. White’s The Complete Guide to the Gap Year (Jossey-Bass) provides plenty of information and resources to encourage students to look into other options besides heading straight to college after high school — options that can lead to greater confidence and maturity.

It’s sad to think how it almost seems trivial, if not frivolous, to talk about caring or love in education today. Richard Lakin challenges this trend toward emotional detachment in education by illustrating what teachers know and what so few non-teaching education reformers seem to realize: When relationships of caring and trust are in place, pedagogy and curriculum are much more likely to achieve the results that reformers demand. Without those relationships, there is no perfect system, no foolproof textbook or software, no scripted curriculum that will yield the broad and lasting effects we all want for our youngest citizens.

The bulk of Lakin’s book focuses on his experiences as an elementary school principal. His approach to problem solving and school improvement featured an admirable balance of practicality and humility. Small stories about seemingly inconsequential matters like a class pet may seem uninspiring at a glance, but as the parent of a third-grader and a first-grader, I am often reminded that Carmel the Guinea Pig and Jake the Snake figure much more prominently in my sons’ minds than do any state standards or publishers’ pacing guides. Thus, when Lakin describes how he negotiated with students and their teacher to reach a mutually acceptable solution to a problem with pet mice, we can see the benefits that follow from his willingness to change his mind and to consider the children’s feelings as a relevant factor in running a school. Lakin continuously asserts that his success in this situation — and in the larger context of promoting goals like conflict resolution and school literacy — came not from having guidelines or standards that were handed down “from the office,” but from remaining faithful to a belief that we must educate from the heart.

Lakin’s commitment to parent-school partnerships also resonates. He recounts the efforts that went into transforming a school culture of distrust into one of caring and communication. After describing what it took to be successful — detailing both the improvements and a few mistakes along the way — he concludes by noting that the effort took three to four years before really taking hold.

I paused for a few minutes after this chapter and reflected on the current climate I see and hear about in education. First of all, in those three to four years, many of our struggling urban and rural schools might see more than a 50 percent turnover in staff and families. Yet we know that building trust depends largely on stability. Secondly, I’m concerned that our systemic obsession with data actually becomes an obstacle to trust. While it is true that we must rely on more than feelings to measure educational outcomes, my trust in a school or teacher is rooted in my belief that they know more about my child than his test scores. When we churn through teaching staff and make a fetish of test scores, we do not arrive at a system that knows and cares about children as people.

The rush to college

Fast forward eight to ten years, and you’re looking at high school graduation. If you know any college-bound high school seniors, or remember being one, you know that there are three questions that dominate the senior year — questions that you may not want to ask but can’t help yourself. Where are you applying? Where did you get in? Where are you going?

I wish more of our high school seniors were able to subvert this ritual of interrogation by answering those questions in unpredictable ways. To help out, I’ll be recommending Kristin M. White’s book on gap-year programs. Maybe we’ll start hearing: “I’m spending a year in AmeriCorps to support local non-profit groups and gain some job skills.” Or, “I’m going to do a field research expedition in Brazil.” Or perhaps, “I’ll be earning credits at Portland State, but living, working, and studying in East Africa.”

For most students and parents, the idea of a gap year between high school and a traditional college experience is relatively new and full of uncertainty. White is an experienced academic advisor and counselor, and her book provides a concise examination of the reasons to take a gap year, and many different ways to go about it, depending upon the student’s goals, personality, and financial situation.

White has anticipated all of the main concerns that I would have and would expect to hear from students and parents. She cautions that a gap year is ideally not a “year off” to hang out or to travel without some aim, purpose, or structure. But what if students lose academic momentum and be less successful in college, or not even return? Will colleges let a recently admitted student defer matriculation? Will admissions offices look favorably on applicants who have taken a year off?

White supplies ample information to reassure readers on every count. The book is full of positive comments from students, parents, gap-year program staff, college admissions staff and instructors. As one of her final thoughts, White offers that “I never came across anyone who expressed regret over doing a gap year. Even students who had a traveling disaster or a challenge abroad or went on a program with a difficult community service all reflected on their year positively.”

Parents seem to be the main group in need of some convincing. After all, she writes, “Parents have spent the last eighteen years saving and sacrificing for their child’s college education. They have evaluated every cultural and extracurricular opportunity with a view toward college. They may even feel that their success as parents is measured by their child’s acceptance (or lack of acceptance) to a good college.” This particular comment seems aimed at a particular demographic – middle and upper-class families – but it rings true in my experience and shows that White understands why parents might resist the idea.

While she does caution that a gap year is not for everyone, White clearly suggests that more students would benefit from trying it. Why? “The generation that is in high school today is going to need more than a college degree to be successful. Developing a worldview is crucial to being able to thrive and prosper in a global economy. A gap year experience can set you on a path to seeing your world in a different way.”

I might not couch the argument simply in terms of economic prosperity when talking to my own students or family members, but it’s hard to disagree with the final part of the statement. Achieving a broader world view can help a student mature, which may also aid the transition to college in social ways. White invites readers to “imagine how the independence and self-esteem building of a gap year would positively affect the maturity and confidence of those who were likely to be influenced by the college party culture.”

The second half of the book is made up of listings and resources for every type of gap year experience or program you might think of, and many that you would not have considered. A few options are free to participants, covering all expenses and providing a modest stipend or education award, while others are essentially private schools or international study programs with costs in the neighborhood of $40,000.

Kristin M. White’s book is an outstanding resource for high school students and their families, and would be an excellent addition to high school libraries and counseling centers. Whether the student’s goal is academic maturation, cross-cultural immersion and language development, volunteer work, community development, or career skill-building, there are opportunities worth considering for those willing to venture off the traditional educational track in search of something more.

David M. Cohen is a National Board Certified Teacher at Palo Alto High School in Palo Alto CA. He is a co-founder of the Accomplished California Teachers leadership network.

Teachers as Senior Education Leaders

In a recent blog post at On the Shoulders of Giants, TLN member Ariel Sacks reflected on a new program planned by the Harvard Graduate School of Education, aimed at producing 21st century education leaders prepared with the business skills and the understanding of teaching and learning necessary to successfully lead schools.

Ariel cross-posted her blog entry in our TLN Forum discussion group. It sparked a LOT of conversation, some of which we share here. To get the most out of this dialog, read Ariel’s blog post first: Can Teachers Be ‘Senior Education Leaders’?

In her conclusion, Ariel writes:

…Coming from the opposite angle, could a classroom teacher--or group of classroom teachers--become a major force in education reform? I think yes…

I'd love to see a group of teachers enter Harvard's doctoral program and graduate having created and prepared themselves to take on hybrid roles--splitting their time between actual classroom teaching and working closely with senior "educational leaders" to help transform education.

If Harvard won't, can we create that program?

Anne replied:

That's an excellent suggestion, Ariel. I do some curriculum writing for middle schoolers. No matter how carefully and thoroughly I think it through, until I get in the classroom and teach it I don't know just how many changes I need to make! Nothing takes the place of the classroom reality check.

I especially like the idea of education reformers living and teaching the changes they recommend. Either that, or get out of the education reform business and let teacher leaders be in position drive the necessary changes. Actually, I like the last idea better, anyway!

Bob wrote:

Our educational system is yet to be widely structured in a way to tap into the leadership of classroom teachers or financially compensate classroom teacher leaders who remain in the classroom. I am unsure as to whether we are going to win over politicians and central office administrators in sufficient numbers unless some of us move into those positions while staying grounded to the experiences of the classroom.

I have a principal certification and am not tempted to use it right now because I love teaching. Financially it is a stupid move because I spent $15,000 for a second masters that did not increase my salary. I am not jumping in because when I went up to the front office and was a principal for short periods of time during my internship, I thought I was doing work that was far less rewarding than teaching. Part of the reason is that internships usually touch on discipline and procedures much more than instructional leadership.

I find far fewer administrators passionate about their job than teachers. Once exception is a principal I met by the pool at a San Diego principals' conference last year. He gave a passionate endorsement for becoming a principal. I remember his words clearly: "If you are a good teacher, ok that's something, but what does it amount to in the big picture? …But if you are the principal, you can really do anything. You can change a whole school. You want to teach a class, no problem. You’re the principal.”

Some experienced teachers need to become the prominent politicians, superintendents and principals in a way that they are still grounded to the classroom. Those that try will likely be criticized because it is not a common practice right now. I am looking forward to stepping into my classroom tomorrow morning. That is where it is at for me at this moment. So I do not know if we need to draw straws and have those that lose pursue the prominent positions, but we need more teacher perspective in those positions.

Ariel replied:

I keep thinking that principals are not really the education leaders that Harvard is thinking of--or many people think of when we say policy makers. I see principals as much closer to teachers because they are in schools every day and in contact with students every day. Superintendents probably do count as policy makers, but there are lots of other players in the game. Foundation people, leaders of organizations like TFA and New Leaders for New Schools, etc, and also politicians like Arne Duncan and Joel Klein and everyone who works for them. It would be very interesting to see how many have teaching experience and if they do--would they be interested in teaching in a public school classroom once a week, for example.

Chances are it would have to happen the other way, where teachers lead the way by moving into hybrid roles.


Marsha, who teaches in a suburban district in the mid-West, wrote:

I'm with Ariel on this viewpoint. I don't believe principals are the policymakers or are even asked for their input very much.

Parents have a much larger voice in our policymaking and the political process of electing the school board keeps those people in line with those that elected them. The supers do go out and hire layers of insulation...and those people seem to have never taught or it has been an eternity since they were in the classroom.

I think prinicipals are much closer to managers. They guide the ship, they implement policy and they interpret policy that has been given to them. Very little of what they do is inspired by what their building needs.

Marti wrote:

I think many of us make the conscious choice to be "Teacher/Leaders" rather than administrators. Perhaps because we love kids, and perhaps because we recognize the power (or lack thereof) which principals truly possess. I'd far rather deal with recalcitrant students than difficult teachers who lack the motivation (and/or ability) to do their job well.

Thus, each of us, it seems, in such a wide variety of ways, is seeking to lead from within: teaching courses, working with novices, publishing, gaining National Board certification, and writing, writing, writing...

Kathie wrote:

I also have an administrative credential I will never use. I didn't think it through because I needed units when I returned to public education. If I'd thought about it, I'd have a degree in curriculum and instruction! One thing I took away from my administrative credential program was this, written by a high-level district administrator on one of my papers, "People go into administration for one of three reasons. Money, power, or they hate kids." Boy, did that stick with me! Of course, what we need is administrators, policy wonks, and doctoral candidates who've been in the classroom and know whereof they speak.

TLN Forum member Mary Tedrow wrote about the new Harvard degree in her blog Walking to School.

Ariel commented on Mary’s blog post:

You make a lot of good points in your blog, especially about the problems with school systems being run like businesses.

School needs to be reformed, but I balk at using business as the model for that reform. How can we continue to use that paradigm after what has resulted in the current recession and what has been revealed about the corruption in the business world? When Wall Street demanded that gains appear on spreadsheets every quarter, the gains showed up. Who cared how they got there just so long as this narrow measure of success continued to build (unsustainably, as it turns out).

Education is NOT a business. We are NOT producing products. My complaint is the same one doctors make in the current health care debate.

Bill, who has a long teaching career in independent schools, wrote:

I will readily agree that the business model is being over-promoted and mis-applied to classroom practice. I will readily agree that someone who lacks classroom experience is also lacking a vital piece of preparation for being an educational leader. I will also readily agree that an educational leader who stays in touch with kids by remaining in the classroom in some capacity…brings an extra and important dimension to the job.

But I do see value in the School of Business contributing to Harvard's new Ed.L.D. program... A school is not a normal business in many ways. In particular, the business model has no place in classroom-level policies. Kids are indeed not widgets. But at the same time, an independent school that continually spends $500,000 more than it takes in will eventually fail. And anyone administering a public school into the same situation will undoubtedly be fired. So I do see the need and value of the School of Business partnering in this degree.

John, a nationally certified pre-school teacher, wrote:

I am going to school to get a PhD so that people will listen when I tell them what my four year olds taught me over the past 13 years…

As a current student in a doctoral Ed Leadership program I am a little frustrated because I can't apply for this free program at Harvard. That said, I think we may have missed a key point. This initiative is funded by the Wallace Foundation. This organization has been funding educational leadership (not teaching) for years. Supporting and researching high quality leadership is their mission.

Will there be a bunch of teachers who apply? Yes. How many will get in? We'll have to wait and see. I think this initiative is aimed at folks who want to go beyond the superintendency. I think they are expecting to get TFA kids who graduated from Princeton, not teachers like myself who attended a state college and spent the past 12 years playing with kids.

Emily observed:

Concerning the new Harvard degree, click here for a listing of their partner organizations. Very telling.

John added:

I am looking forward to seeing the details of the new leadership credential from the National Board for Professional Teaching Standards. I see that teachers and principals are being lumped together more and more by policymakers. Truthfully I think it is better for kids, teachers, and leadership if we see ourselves in the same boat.

A Rigorous Thanksgiving

David B. Cohen, NBCT
Teacher Leaders Network 

With Thanksgiving arriving, we begin to hear and read commentaries about all that we are thankful for. As a teacher, I am mindful of the role teachers have played in my own life. Of course, the climate and values in education have changed somewhat since the 1970s, and what I once may have believed about schools and teachers when I was a naïve child must be tested against the rigorous standards of today.

 
I attended two different American military schools in Germany for kindergarten through second grade. Perhaps due to moving around a fair amount as a child, I find it hard to reconstruct memories of the teachers from those years. I’m told I was a skilled reader at an early age. Had anyone asked at the time, we would have likely attributed my facility for reading to my parents’ constant encouragement and the many high-interest books in our home. I now have to assume that although I can’t remember my earliest primary-grade teachers, they must have been brilliant educators. As we are frequently reminded in education these days, “the teacher is the most important factor in student success.” Thank you to those Armed Services teachers, whoever and wherever you may be.
 
In third and fourth grade, I was living in Colorado Springs. My dominant educational recollection is that my fourth-grade teacher punished me harshly whenever I held my pencil the wrong way. I was confused and humiliated by the insistence that I meet the highest standard of pencil-gripping and meet it immediately. But now, immersed in the field of education myself, I’ve learned that we have to be tough, we have to produce results and keep students progressing on schedule. And this teacher certainly produced results: I ended up in a program for gifted students when I reached fifth grade. The fact that I felt no connection to my education or my peers is far less important than the fact that my skills were far above average and growing. My tears and alienation were inconsequential, non-measurable and non-educational outcomes, so let me now give thanks for that fourth-grade teacher. I’m only sorry that my pencil grip never changed.
 
For fifth and sixth grade, I moved to Los Angeles and attended my fourth elementary school. I thoroughly enjoyed those years and imagined I was having a wonderful life. By today’s standards, however, I suffered from a conspicuous lack of measurable progress. I am sorry to say it, but my fifth and sixth grade teachers did not fully embrace accountability. The gifted program involved exciting enrichment activities but no summative assessments. Though I didn’t mind at the time, I can see now that those years represent a wasted opportunity. Where was value-added measurement when I needed it most?
 
Instead of helping me continue to make more than a year’s progress in each grade level, these teachers tried to promote “love of learning” and “personal responsibility.” Not really the school’s job, was it? In the absence of clear and rigorous state or district mandates, they had me reading Ray Bradbury in fifth grade and J.R.R. Tolkien in sixth. To make matters worse, my sixth grade teacher had us discuss the books without a single worksheet or objective assessment tool in sight. Open-ended conversation about The Hobbit made for pleasant class time, but did little to guarantee that I could have passed a rigorous, standards-based assessment. From a contemporary educational perspective, I have to ask, what was the point?
 
There were other signs of trouble, too. We memorized and recited poetry in class, and sang songs for no apparent reason. My fifth grade teacher even came out to the playground and taught us new games, organized a class Olympiad, and fostered friendly competition and sportsmanship. What exactly were the learning objectives and intended outcomes here? Where was the accountability? When I think of all the better ways that time could have been spent, I know now that some benchmarks must have gone unmarked. My inclination to give thanks is lessened somewhat at that realization.
 
I must concede that in fifth and sixth grade I thoroughly enjoyed school -- but not in any measurable sense. I made many friends, and even still keep in touch with a few of them, but what of that? As a professional educator in the 21st century, I am often reminded that I need to be data-driven. I don’t have time to waste on ephemeral pleasures or concerns about social and emotional matters. Performance counts.
 
Thanksgiving this year has made me realize that some of the blessings in our lives are obvious, but some warrant deeper examination. Looking back on my early education, I am thankful for those teachers who put academics (and pencil-gripping) first -- and thankful that those teachers who tried to reach the “whole child” didn’t harm me irrevocably. They may have shirked their accountability and neglected rigor now and then in their reckless pursuit of the joy of learning, but somehow it all worked out in the end.
 
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!
 
David B. Cohen teaches English and serves as an academic advisor at Palo Alto High School in California. He is a National Board Certified Teacher and a co-founder of the Accomplished California Teachers (ACT) organization.

And Then I Got to Dewey . . .

Classroom Conversations: A Collection of Classics for Parents and Teachers
by Alexandra Miletta and Maureen Miletta
(2008, The New Press)

Reviewed by Marti Schwartz
Novice-Teacher Educator (Rhode Island)
Teacher Leaders Network

Reading the articles gathered together in Classroom Conversations: A Collection of Classics for Parents and Teachers by Alexandra Miletta and Maureen Miletta (a mother-daughter pair of teacher educators who comment on each article) was a fascinating walk with many of the giants of education thinking who have shaped our path over the past century. Each article offered up wise words, grouped into five broad topics: Understanding Children, What’s Worth Learning, The Work of Teaching, On Equity and Issues of Social Justice, and The Final Word: Purposes of Education in a Democracy.

I picked this book up eagerly, squeezing it into early summer reading, seeking just the right one — or two — or even three articles which would illuminate the most important ideas for my novice teachers when we met in late July. As I read the introduction, I was reminded of one of my third grade students who wrote that “Ribsy by Beverly Cleary is a book that has stood the test of time because it has been read a lot and it has great words that everyone can use. Also they would be happy in the end because Henry finds Ribsy.”

So, too, Miletta & Miletta comment: “For our own well-being and in order to forget ahead, we often turn to our favorite writers, whose wise words and thoughts fill our bookshelves and files. These are people whose work stands the test of time. As educational fads and jargon come and go, we feel a strong connection to these great thinkers who have shaped our beliefs and practices in education and who continue to have an influence in the field.”

And these articles, these thinkers, from Vivian Gussin Paley and Eleanor Duckworth advising us to listen and learn from our students, to Peggy McIntosh and Sonia Nieto who seek to open our eyes to the cultural realms of our students in order to help us to understand their needs — all have wise words for us. Focusing on the arts — teaching the whole child (including both moral and intellectual attentiveness, according to David Hansen and so many others) — developing creative and critical thinkers, echoed and reechoed by so many writers within this text…confirm what (hopefully) most educators know and live by.

Each article is prefaced by an introduction written by one of the collection’s authors, with a conclusion offered by the alternate partner. Their comments summarized key points, quoted the highlights, gave background on the article’s author, and put forth the big ideas. Sometimes this made reading the actual article almost redundant.

In terms of article selection, it was not until I got to John Dewey (whose article was written between 1899-1906) that I became excited. YES! I shouted, over and over again. Maureen Miletta introduces his words with these:

When I read this essay, I am moved by Dewey’s faith in the ability of the teacher to make decisions about what to teach and how to teach it. When he talks about decisions of that nature being made by people outside the school system who have no expert knowledge of education but are motivated by non-educational motives, I am struck by its applicability to today’s headlines. The restrictions placed upon the teacher result in the flight of the truly intelligent and imaginative person who might be attracted to the profession were it not for the imprisonment of the spirit that the lack of freedom implies.
 

It is amazing to me that educators faced many of these still-familiar concerns more than a century ago, and yet we now face national standards (with little educator input) and increasingly scripted curriculum, both of which unfortunately illustrate the continued lack of faith in the practitioners to whom the education of America’s children has been entrusted.

Many of these articles in this collection are well worth reading and re-reading. Many of the problems persist, and obviously will continue to vex those who believe that “schools should offer what students need to take part in a democratic society and its culture — a complex package for everybody’s children that would equip them for full participation in work, culture, and liberty.” (Joseph Featherstone, p.287). Unfortunately for my purposes, Classroom Conversations doesn’t open any new doors, or particularly extend our thinking on these issues, even with the comments from Alexandra and Maureen Miletta. In seeking solutions, my novices will need to look elsewhere.

Schools on the Brink

A brief reflection on the 2008-09 school year, from a middle grades teacher in Los Angeles:

When I reflect beyond my own classroom, I grow increasingly concerned about how next year will play out as we grapple with teacher layoffs and a state economy on the brink of collapse. Based on seniority, we're losing one of our terrific young sixth grade teachers and retaining a teacher whose students cuss at him and charge out of class with regularity. We're losing two of our administrators, our special ed coordinator, and our literacy coach to other schools because of layoffs and seniority issues.

And I continue to resent and reflect on how often I see the words "bad teachers" in local newspapers. Another one today...

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