A Course Idea Both Parties Should Support

       Listening to President Obama's State of the Union address  and South Carolina Governor Nikki Haley's response, I couldn't help but be reminded of a post I wrote three years ago. In it I decried the current political climate and wondered about the lessons it teaches children. One excerpt reads:

 I’m wondering more about what lessons young people are gleaning from what they witness. What are they learning about leadership? About constructive debate? About seeking compromise? About thoughtful deliberation? About respectful disagreement? About respect in general? About working together for the common good?
                This last point is crucial. We face enormous problems—energy, environmental, financial, technological, infrastructure, international—which will require our collective resources to solve. However, we continue to squawk about our disagreements to such a degree that we cannot collaborate in any fashion. And the frightening thing is divisiveness tends to breed greater divisiveness. When and how does it end?                In the big picture, I don’t know. Perhaps when some situation becomes desperate enough that we have to pull together.  In our own corners of the world, we can help children by asking questions and initiating discussions with them. At just about any age, children have reactions and opinions, often laced with insight that we can neglect in our busy adulthood. We must model the desired behavior. Simply put, to have the type of political leaders and citizenry we want and need, we have to nurture the essential qualities. It’s hard, slow, often messy work. It’s vital work. Imperative work. (Full post here.)

Now I have to agree with the President's statement of regret that the situation seems to have worsened.

       One positive that I've been thinking about is what a fascinating time this would be to be a history or political science teacher. Or an teacher with a predilection to consider what I'm going to describe.

       Think about the current presidential campaign. Of course, currently the rise of Donald Trump is receiving a majority of the attention, with Ted Cruz becoming a more prominent figure.That's on the far right side. What is not receiving nearly as much attention--but is perhaps just as telling--is how well socialist-leaning Bernie Sanders is doing in the polls. So we have both extremes with plenty of support. It's a fascinating development to consider; we could read multiple, varied implications into it. Is it that people are just fed up with the norm? Is it an even further extension of the divisiveness I describe above, moving from political chambers to the larger public? Is it an Internet forum coming to real life? In many ways, both the extremes run counter to some basic American tenets, from basic human rights to capitalism. While I'm not enough of a historian to know for sure, I have to think this is one of the most extreme times in American history. Even if it's not, I think my proposal has merit. I'd love to see a course focused on the current election with, to borrow theme of Steven Johnson's latst book, a focus on how we got to now. Studying history is learning a story. I'd like to see this one told backwards--to take some of these ideas and use them to unpack history. For example, some of what has been proposed about refugees could lead to a fascinating exploration of issues regarding immigration since our founding. Or one could look at various takes on wealth and issues that spin off from that. If not a full course, perhaps an ongoing unit within a course.*

       Even if one proceeds chronologically, taking such an analytical approach to any area of study is important for another reason. Besides what kids learn from the rancor and discord, such extremism tends to strip away critical thinking and sense of nuance. So I am reminded about another my posts as well: "Help Students Pop the Filter Bubble":

Pariser writes, "Democracy requires citizens to see things from one another's point of view, but instead we're more and more enclosed in our own bubbles. Democracy requires a reliance on shared facts; instead we're offered parallel but separate universes" (4). Innovation and creativity lie at the heart of economic development, yet we're removing much of what can fuel them. Our diverse world is becoming more and more interconnected and inter-reliant; yet we dwell in a world that can foster narrow-mindedness.

     With our students growing up in such a world, schools have an even greater obligation to reconsider their large-picture mission. It's about how to live a meaningful life in such a world. That means awareness and critical thinking, not mere fact accumulation. That means helping students make connections, not keeping disciplines separate. That means learning to ask the right questions, not mere bubble coloring. That means grappling with relevant problems, not made-up examples. That means collaborating with diverse groups, not working in isolation. That means learning to use powerful technology, not letting it use us. That means helping them pop the filter bubble.

This notion is, of course, directly tied to points made at the start of the post in that we can't erase the bile until we're able to develop the necessary perspective and empathy. If we can help students in this regard, then we can take heart in knowing that we care producing the sort of leaders who can fix the current mess.

*Long ago I taught an American Lit class--really American Studies--in which I took this approach. We began with One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest and asked, "How did we end up here?"

Leadership as Planned Obsolescence

       A great deal of leadership guidance emphasizes the need for the leader to beware the dangers of egocentricity. It's not abut the removal of ego, but having a healthy and secure sense of self. It's the essence of servant leadership. Lately I've found myself considering what seems an extension of this notion. Perhaps truly effective leadership means intentionally rendering one's self obsolete.
       The notion is not one that people in clearly-defined, high-profile, well-rewarded leadership positions are likely to find comfortable. However, I think we can spin the idea into a positive one. It might even be, if not the most tangible, at least the most meaningful sign of success. While I believe my points could be applied to perhaps any field, I'll stick to my realms of experience: education and parenting.
       Let's start really big picture. When a head of school is hired, it's because she or he is a particular person selected for particular reasons and a particular point in time. The school may be ready to launch a fundraising effort; there may be a need to focus on academic innovation; perhaps the school simply suffers from inertia. Over time the more immediate needs shift. If the head manages to meet all the challenges that arise during his or her tenure, at some point the time arrives for a new person better suited for the next round of work. In this scenario, the giant goal is simple. You want to leave the school in a much better place than it was when you began, what ever that may mean, and poised to improve even more under the next leader. In fact, you will recognize that you've done what you can and someone else is better suited at that point.
       In the shorter term, the leader prepares for this moment by shrinking him- or herself so that others may grow. Currently popular terms such as distributed leadership and flattened hierarchy capture this notion. Everyone--not just those with the titles--can lead from where and because of who they are. People then become more engaged and empowered. They feel more of the sense of mastery, autonomy, and purpose that fuels motivation and drives improvement. Then the institution flourishes. This directly contradicts organizations who have soared under dynamic, larger-than-life leaders, only to crash and burn when that person left. It's why it will be interesting to watch Apple over the next few years.
       The same notion can be applied to a classroom. Does the teacher dominate and attempt to control everything? Or does she or he create conditions in which the students can take control for a large degree of their own learning? Has the emphasis been on mastery of content or the fostering of skills and attitudes? Are we preparing them for the test or the next grade, or are we helping them become life-long learners?
       We could ask similar questions about parenting. There's no need here to go into a rant about helicopter and snowplow and lawnmower parents. Instead, I'll merely suggest that the top long-term goal of parenting is to help our children become independent adults who can thrive without us.

       In the professional world, a leader can delay this inevitable transition by continuing to grow, evolving as a group's needs change. It's why great leaders remain insatiably curious and pose provocative questions. Not just about the institution and employees, but also about him- or herself. They also don't accept the hackneyed bromide "Lead, follow, or get out of the way." They know when to do each, and do so quite intentionally.

Too Much, Too Soon

       For whatever reason, much of what I've been noticing in the area of educational reform has been falling largely into the same basic model, albeit with some different flavors. (Surely the Baader-Meinhoff phenomenon in action after my last post.) Here's the basic idea: to keep kids engaged and improve education, increase the demands. Frequently this means more AP courses at younger grades, with pre-AP tracks starting in middle school. If not AP, then some sort of dual-credit program. However it's done, the prevailing notion is to increase what passes for rigor.

       I could go on for quite a while on my problems with this approach. In fact, that theme directly and indirectly runs throughout this blog. So I won't. Instead, I'll offer an analogy.

        At increasing speed for the past two decades, highly competitive sports programs have extended their reach into younger and younger age kids. These kids are asked to specialize in the sport; and they undergo longer, more frequent, and more physically demanding training. They--and their families--often do so to pursue visions of long-term and glorious success, i.e. scholarships and even professional contracts. But think for just a moment about how many athletes have even the slightest shot at those levels, let alone make it. For most it's fantasy.

       It's a sadder reality that we've since as this trend has emerged. We see a significantly higher percentage of young people suffering injuries, some of them quite serious. Some don't develop their all-around athleticism. Many become burned out in their early teens. Overall, I have to believe the damage outweighs the gains. All this happens because young people are being forced into developmentally inappropriate situations.

        It hasn't worked in sports for the overwhelming majority. Why would we expect anything different in academics?

Hmmmm. Really? Too much innovation?

One could actually argue that the social sector is rife with too much innovation. Each day a new “silver bullet” seems to emerge that will somehow solve all our challenges. What we really need is to be more informed about where we innovate and to what end. (Tom Vander Ark, Smart Cities ThatWork for Everyone: 7 Keys to Education and Employment, Loc 2522)

                Hmmmm. Really? Too  much innovation? I know I’m providing a snippet out of context. Surely that’s why this passage jumped out at me in a book I eventually found myself skimming rather than truly reading. So bear with me as I try to make some sense of this, which I’ve been trying to do for a few days now.

                On some level I get it. In fact, a couple of the points could be lifted right from previous posts on this blog or from presentations I’ve made. I’ve referred several times to the silver bullet thinking that seems to be inherent to education reformers’ thinking. I think it’s a result of the author’s second point, which is that we really lack a clear north star by which we’re orienting our efforts. Just think about some of the debates about the basic purpose of education. Is it life preparatory or college preparatory or job preparatory or all of these or none of these and actually something else? Even if you manage to reach some consensus on that topic, chaos can ensure about what it actually means in terms of implementation. We’ve all been through some curriculum skirmishes, if not outright wars. Both of these notions tie to another concern I’ve expressed: those schools which grab quickly onto any shiny new idea as the thing so rapidly that you can begin to wonder who they are at their very core.

                While I can see some validity to Vander Ark's claim, I’m still perplexed. Let’s put aside the fact that the book has basically outlines all sorts of “innovative” (yes, not the quotation marks; I’ll be coming back to this). It’s only now, after however long, that we’re beginning to see schools that look any different than they have for decades. I’m not talking about the outliers, those places which always have done things differently. I’m talking about those based on the assembly line model; in other words, the overwhelming majority. Even where we see new practices within them, they retain many of the same characteristics schools always have had. Some trappings have changed—kids many have laptops rather than notebooks—too many practices have not. The innovative often is not that different. When it is, that’s when we see what real, deeper learning looks like.

                To return to the skepticism-signaling quotation marks. Vander Ark seems to want things both ways. He writes this book to show how innovations in education are the key to cities flourishing—and I agree. But—big, bold, all caps screaming but—the innovations he holds out as grand and working are really not impressive.  In fact, they seem to be mainly about efficiency and pace, i.e. having more kids take AP courses at younger ages. He holds out many models of personalized learning, many of which would seem to be self-paced drill-and-kill work, with loads of testing to ensure accountability. If that’s the ideal, then of course you will believe that there is too much innovation. And of course I end up skimming rather than really reading.

                Now, reflecting on the book, I can help but thinking of that wild-haired genius who was deemed an idiot in school, Einstein, and the so-often used quotation that “Insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results.” And we sure aren't going to end up with smart cities, at least not in the current and future world.

Despair or Determination? Post Mizzou and Paris

       The past few weeks have been one of those times when educators could give in to despair. That may hold especially true in independent schools. Far from the stereotype of snooty enclaves catering strictly to those of privilege, we've been striving for many years to address issues of equity and justice. We're not always successful, but many of our schools have become much more inclusive communities which emphasize respecting the dignity of each person. Some have become havens for those who may feel disenfranchised in other schools. We also don't rest on our laurels. For instance, recently there have been robust Twitter conversations around this topic on the #naisdeepdive thread. Here at St. John's Episcopal, one of our professional learning groups has been grappling with this issue and how our school can improve.

       Then we see the sort of incidents that have rocked college campuses from coast to coast, with those at Mizzou grabbing most of the headlines. As is usually the case, we don't know the pure facts about any of the cases. But we have seen them play out in a barrage of accusations and threats and undiluted rage. What we do not see happening--and we can only hope is--are the necessary honest, possibly painful sustained conversations that may wound but also foster healing. When we react in such fashion, how do we learn and grow? While not surprising, it is disappointing and ironic to see things playing out this way in academic institutions.

       The issues are legitimate and real. To deny that is ignorance. Our culture remains full of -phobias and -isms of all sorts, whether overt or subtle or institutionalized. And it's not just American culture. We see it thoughout the world, whether in the racist chants of ultras at European football matches or in the barbarism of groups such as ISIS, most recently in Paris last Friday.

       It saddens and scares me. I mean that in a large sense, but also on a very personal level that really hit me after the Paris attacks. My sixteen-year-old son's close friend was taking him out for a birthday dinner. His friend is a devout Muslim. As they headed off, I found myself worrying that someone would do or say something to them.

        At such times, it's easy to throw up one's arms and scream, "Really? In 2015?" To see our work in this area as futile, due to some dark flaw in human nature, some need to reduce our humanity to binary terms which become an us and a them. When that happens, we'll never understand each other. It's why I disagree when we hold out the notion that we should, for instance, be color blind when it comes to race. I believe we need to recognize and seek to comprehend the way certain characteristics shape who we are and our perspectives. Then maybe we can come together in ways that lie at the idealistic heart of most independent school educators.

       Rather than despair, we have to become even more determined. We can't respond just in extreme times; instead, we must commit ourselves to teaching basic humanity every day, in ways large and small. We have to wave the flag even higher, confident in our belief that education can bring true enlightenment.