My Cardiac Surgery and Education

Last Tuesday, April 8, I had some cardiac surgery--an ablation because of some extreme atrial fibrillation in my left atrium. Basically, the surgeon told me that it's like having what used to require open-heart surgery except now they can do it in ways I'm going to describe. He said that even ten years ago he couldn't have done the procedure as he did it on Tuesday and hoped for as high a chance of success (still waiting on that determination). Plus the recovery is amazingly quick considering what occurred. Sunday I took a long enough, brisk enough stroll to sweat a tiny bit. Today I was at school for several hours.

To highly oversimplify, here is the process. On Monday I went to the hospital for a CT scan. This scan was used to build a multi-colored 3-D computer model of my heart, zeroing in on the affected atrium. The colors indicated the areas needing attention. On Tuesday I went to the hospital, was prepped, and wheeled into the operating room. In there it was like the pit at a car race as several medical folks hooked me up to all sorts of sensors, electrodes, lines. Meanwhile, I stared at the clearest 60-inch hi-def monitor I've ever seen right above me. I don't recall going under.

During the procedure I had one scope down my throat to check for blood clots. To reach my atrium, the surgeon made a small incision near my groin, through which he inserted a scope into the vein and thus to the heart. While watching the model on the screen, he could pinpoint exactly where to move the scope and perform the ablation. That involves burning the areas that are causing the atrium to go into a-fib in an effort to reroute the electrical impulses in the heart. Or at least that's my very limited understanding of it!

So, you may be wondering, what does this have to do with education? Plenty, I think, particularly if considered both literally and metaphorically. Plus my experience captures why the best schools, to use a phrase I've borrowed from former NAIS president Pat Bassett, are both high-tech and high-touch.

I'm in awe of the sorts of minds that can progress any field in such amazing fashion, in this case by merging their existing knowledge with the possibilities afforded by technology. Such accomplishment requires not just knowledge and skill, but also a certain perspective, insight, and intellectual courage and determination. It soars high above pure academic achievement, although that clearly is the foundation. If anything, I'm understating the stunning work necessary in such rapid innovation. At the same time, it strikes me that it encapsulates the qualities we should aspire to foster in each and every student.

We're also reminded of the incredible opportunities that we have in this unbelievable era of technological advancement. So the question inevitably arises: while the situation is improving, what keeps so many teachers and schools from harnessing this potential? I'm sure anyone reading this blog has heard the now-cliched idea that one wouldn't choose a physician who has changed as little as schools have given all that we know now versus 25 years ago. For me this has become starkly more than an analogy.

Even with all that in mind, another basic truth emerges. As I've written many times, education is essentially about human connections. The high-touch part. My surgeon has shown a patient, empathetic bedside manner with my wife and me. The hospital staff was fabulous. Trustees and employees and school families have been supportive and kind. Friends have provided meals. We have beautiful plants and two giant gift baskets of fruit and other goodies. It's been inspiring. But nothing has charmed me more than the cards from students, made the old-fashioned way with construction paper and crayons and scissors and glue. One even came with a rabbit's foot! And it's reminded me why educators must be committed to their own growth to create the best possible schools for,this young people's futures.

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Why Creativity Really Matters

     Many practical reasons exist for schools to be putting more emphasis on creativity in all its forms. The move from the information age to the creative age, employment prospects, the new emphasis on design, ties to innovation, the fact that thus far computers can't ideate--if you're reading this blog, like me you know most of the broad strokes, all of which I have invoked in various fora. I've even made hour-long presentations on this very topic.
     I love what this emphasis on creativity has brought to schools. We see more project-based learning, more integrated curricula, more collaboration, more questioning. The use of design thinking principles fosters key character and intellectual principles foundational to human progress. Maker spaces and design dens and innovation labs (and whatever else they are called) are pretty awesome places to see in action. Simply yet profoundly, education now seems more engaging and more relevant. More real.
     Having said all that, I don't know that we've articulated maybe the most important reason this trend matters.
     As I see it, the educational process and all its pieces should add up to a single whole: the creation of a self. In many ways growing up is forming updated prototypes of oneself, better iterations of one's core, hopefully in relation to others.For that to happen, one must be able to dream, to conceive of the possible, and to imagine oneself moving into it, whether by baby steps or in a giant leap. The stages of design thinking, for example, thus becomes a metaphor for striving to fulfill the mission. But a crucial difference is that doing so is as incumbent upon the students as it is the school. Probably even more so, which should be the goal since education should be about their futures. When it happens, that's learning at its most meaningful.

Why Ask Questions? To Change the World

During spring break I enjoyed one of those wonderful father-daughter experiences. For six days we travelled in the Northeast to look at colleges. It wasn't about further bonding. Instead, I revelled in suddenly realizing what a self-aware young woman she had become. Even though I've been watching carefully--and I like to believe I'm an engaged parent-- the transformation felt sudden. I really sensed it when she talked about how a college might provide what she craves and needs as a learner. Naturally, I found myself wondering what experiences had fostered this growth. To some extent it results from her nature, and I'm grateful to her teachers who have nurtured it. All good schools will claim, quite earnestly, that they want their students to be reflective. However, that doesn't seem to be an innate part of young people's make-up, at least not in overt ways they want us to know about. So I also found myself doubting whether schools do enough to prompt the desired, very necessary reflection.
I'm sure that some of this pondering has gained momentum because I'm reading Warren Berger's excellent A More Beautiful Question. In it Berger points out the many reasons we may be reluctant to ask questions and don't ask meaningful questions when we do pose any. As you likely imagine, schools receive quite a bit of blame. I have to say, deservedly so. Without summarizing his points, I'll simply give my very general reasons since they have been percolating in my mind for a long time. In a way they come down to what some of our practices suggest we value. Assessment practices usually come down to being able to provide a "right" answer to a teacher-generated query. This is true whether in class on a daily basis or on a test. There are, of course, wonderful exceptions...but they remain just that--exceptions. That truism ossifies in an era of standardization. One also fairly can ask, when students are posing questions, if they are learning about what makes for good questions and how many are strictly about material rather than their learning. I believe we can better balance the two.
Towards that end, I'm trying an experiment in the seventh grade writing classes I'm currently teaching. I'm embedding asking questions into the work. For example, I am not handing the students a rubric for their essay. Instead, as we work on certain topics, they are coming up with questions that then become part of the rubric, with the students deciding which ones to include. For example, we've been working on word choice, especially vivid verbs. For a possible rubric question, one student wrote, "Do my words activate specific images in a reader's mind?" In the first round of peer review, students had to write down nothing but questions in response to what they heard from the author. Each question had to begin with one of three terms: why, how might you, or what if.
The students find this process quite challenging, mainly because it' so new for them. It requires patience on my part, and I'm struggling a bit with how much to show them up front and how much to let them figure out. Somewhere is the sweet spot, and we will find it. I truly believe taking this approach should help them in the long run. I've always considered asking great questions more important than spouting facts. Now, with pure knowledge growing so easy to access, that is even truer. It's true for curation, and it's true for creativity. It's also true for contribution in the grandest sense. As Berger quotes a professor in his book, "We create the world we live in through the questions we ask." No one is going to change the world for the better without asking the right questions.

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Excited and Daunted: Back into the Classroom

     After spring break I'm going to teach a special writing course to our seventh graders. I'm very excited about it; but I have to admit, I'm also kind of daunted by the prospect. It really hit me yesterday as one of our tech folks was helping me set things up on KidBlog and Google Drive. Sure, I quickly saw loads of possibilities, but suddenly I felt all kinds pressure to practice what I've been preaching for so long. That, and continue to fulfill my other duties as head of school.
     In spare moments I've been doing planning, gathering and re-thinking materials, reworking schedules. It's been quite invigorating in many ways, and it's tempting to spend all my time working on it. I'm not, but I could. I also think that these next couple of months should help make me a better head, as it's always helpful to see things from the perspective of those you lead. I initiated our 1:1 iPad program, but this will be the first time I teach in it. Having to re-design and re-invent my pedagogy will be healthy and already has prompted extensive reflection. So--and maybe I'm just trying to convince myself--I'm seeing this not so much as an add-on but as a great opportunity. Plus the best part is that I'll have the chance to work closely with some awesome kids for an extended period for the first time in a few years.
     The reflection also has been good because it's provided affirmation of some core beliefs. I have limited time with them, so I've pondered one key question more than the other dozen smaller ones: What is my main objective? Yes, I want to improve their skills in terms of basic composition. But more than anything, I want them to come to see writing as a means to express their unique, creative voices and to enjoy the process. Can I accomplish that by the end of this school year? Not totally. But I can make a great start.
     In the meantime, I plan to enjoy spring break. After all, I'm going to have an even busier than usual final couple of months...and an even more fulfilling time.

Move Out of the Way, and Be Delighted

     Recently Lauren Bush, an eighth grader at St. John's, won the USA Network and R&R Partners Foundation's Flip the Script Unite Against Bullying Commercial Challenge. This allowed her to be part of the creation of a public service announcement based on her original video:

We're incredibly proud of Lauren and the immense quality of her work, along with the poignant message. No surprise the video is going viral. She deserves all the attention and accolades.
     It's also important to consider the circumstances that allowed Lauren to create the video, as I believe they hold vital lessons for how education can function at its best. It was a first trimester film elective, and the students had a "simple" charge: create an inspirational video. Lauren then created "Word Play."
     Let's examine what the teacher did and didn't do. He gave the students the very basics of film-making and let them play with each of them. They had a powerful tool (we're a 1:1 iPad school) that made the filming and editing process easy, meaning the students could focus on the creative aspects of the project. The assignment was specific and broad at the same time, and no rubric confined their ideas. He set them up for success...then moved out of their way. Finally--and this probably is the most important point--he believed in the students and their ability to delight us. To push what too many teachers see as impossible.