I’ve Never Been Taught to Do Anything!
December 19th, 2008There is probably no more terrible instant of enlightenment than the one in which you discover your father is a man—with human flesh.¹
A close second is realizing one’s education didn’t do the job.
I bumped into this on Friday. A student at MRHS is doing an education related project, and was stuck. Given the focus of this student’s project, it made sense that MC2 would be the place to go.
It was a depressing conversation—for her. Anyone who has a sense of the way that American education works is probably going to walk away not real happy with their high school or their nation.
Of course, in talking to her, it dawned on me how very few people actually know this—how very few adults understand why high schools and schooling in general looks as it does. It’s an interesting look back at how we got into this mess.
If we think about what an education looked like for most of history, we realize very quickly that it’s not what we encounter in our schools. For most of history, an education was done very one-on-one, very individualized; one learned first from their family, and then from experts outside the immediate family.
If I wanted to be a blacksmith, my father would apprentice me to a blacksmith. I would do the actual work of a blacksmith. Education was based on doing something—not learning about it but in learning how to do it. It was skills that a student would learn.
Wanted to be a lawyer? Go “read law” with a lawyer—that is, read actual case law, look for precedent, and create the arguments needed in order to win cases. Want to be a doctor? Actually get out there and read the medical texts, and then study with a doctor—where the student would travel and see how the work was done first hand.
This is what we now call “experiential education.” I want to note that it’s no less rigorous, no less real than anything else. This is the human way of learning. This is how every person you ever met learned to talk, walk, and ride a bike. This is how the best schools in the world do things—the most highly trained among us do things to learn how. Look at places where screw-ups and mistakes are simply not acceptable, and I’ll guarantee that the training and education is based on actual practice.²
So what changed? Henry Ford.
The late Nineteenth and early Twentieth Centuries was the point where the Industrial Revolution was really starting to take off. This was the dawning of what we would now recognize as the “modern” world, and it was based on the assembly line. It was Henry Ford and his Model T that revolutionized not only our way of making cars, but our very definition of what was “scientific” and “modern.”
Modern meant stream-lined. Modern meant experts at each step of the assembly line. Modern meant each person on a factory floor doing their little bit with machine-like precision³—and with a finished product coming out the other end.
Don’t pretend for a moment this wasn’t an influential idea. The factory, as hard as it is to imagine, was viewed as the height of science. The factory model was viewed as the single best way to accomplish every task. A “scientific” anything meant finding a way to break it down into steps and parts to be done the right way.⁴
At the same time this revolution of thought was going on, we also had a need to educate millions of young men (and later, women) in an entirely new way of working—the factory. We had farmers—and the children of farmers (many of whom could not read very well)—flocking to the city, and millions of immigrants coming from over-seas. We needed to change our public education system, and we needed to do it quickly.⁴ Of course, we also wanted the most “modern” the most “scientific” the “best” way of organizing education.
The factory.
So what were the “skills” that a factor worker needed to know? Especially a factory working three or more shifts? What was the final product meant to produce? Schools were designed to produce men who could work on the assembly line, and in order to do that, there was a skill-set needed:
1. Follow the orders of a supervisor.
2. Follow the directions exactly.
3. Do as directed.
4. Ask for help if needed.
5. Show up on time.
6. Move from point to point when the bell rings.
Like the factory they would work on, the students—the pieces on this assembly line—would move from point to point, from teacher to teacher. Teachers, in this set-up, were little more than factor workers themselves. They had little power (just over their classroom) and were to be directly supervised in a hierarchy with the real responsibility over them. After all, they were generally young, unmarried women, and needed men to guide them.
In this model, it didn’t matter much if a “piece” fell off the assembly line—the skills were very basic, and even if couldn’t be mastered, there was plenty of work to be done that didn’t require education—and I mean good work that could support a family. Go work for the railroads. Mine coal. There was a nation to build, and plenty of ways to make money.
Never mind that the piece was a person, was an individual: That didn’t matter.
In this system, the job of the learner is to absorb the “right” knowledge of the “expert” at the front of the room—and spit it out on command. The best students are the ones who can quickly memorize and regurgitate the information they need. In order to help, they would be given drills to practice on (worksheets) and then they would be tested.
Of course, we also recognized that not everyone was destined for the factory floor. Some few, who showed aptitude, would be taken out of the general mix of students and be put into classrooms with smaller numbers. They would be special, be honored and often have the best teachers who would spend more time with them, and teach them more skills than would be given the “normal” or “average” students.
Never mind that this was hardly “American,” hardly in keeping with democracy and republican ideals. Never mind that the real skills being taught were following orders and doing as they were told, following a bell. Never mind that there was no need to think critically, no need to problem solve. In 1900, these were not considerations—the answers would be given to you. Shut up and learn them.
In 2000, teaching in this same model is hardly acceptable. It’s vile. It’s against everything we say we believe in as a nation and as a people. We ought to change it.⁵
This is everything typified by Jeopardy and Trivial Pursuit. And what is learned really is trivial.
So the real problem is not the teachers at the school, but what they think of teaching. The real problem is that what we think is learning isn’t.
This is really what experiential education is about—this is what MC2 is all about. It’s about every student who goes through getting an education that prepares them or anything they want to do—college, work, or life.
The trick is going to get people to take a moment to do something a little like this:⁶:
Yeah. It’s not 1900 anymore. And there are 1.2 billion Chinese and 900 Indians, all of whom want the American dream, and willing to work hard to get it. Teaching kids to take orders, show up on time, and memorize facts which are easily found online is not going to cut it in the next few decades.
This was what I told that kid. The response was pretty chilling:
“So that’s why I don’t know how to write a research paper?”
Yeah.
“And why school is so boring?”
Yeah.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me about MC2 before?”
1 A cookie for the person who knows what book that line comes from. ↺
2 Flight simulators. The medical field. Nuclear engineering. Anything involving weapons. I could go on, but you get the idea. ↺
3 And we only wanted people until we could design machines to do it for us…↺
3 Please note that the idea of the factory presupposes that there is a right way to do something. It presupposes that knowledge is dead, that there is a “correct” and that it is already determined. It “breaks down” information rather than creating new. In other words, in its very core, the factory assumes that nothing new will come from it—all that can come from a factory is what the factory is designed to make. ↺
4 Note that I said “change” and not “create.” America always had a public education system, running back to colonial times, especially in New England. John Adams, in discussing why he loves New England so much in a letter to his wife, pointed out: “The public Institutions in New England for the Education of Youth, supporting Colledges at the public Expence and obliging Towns to maintain Grammar schools, is not equalled and never was in any Part of the World.” The current Libertarian anti-public spending attitude in our school board and in our nation is an idiotic re-writing of history, and so flatly wrong it’s a tragedy it hasn’t been more firmly debunked. ↺
5 A great many people are, and have been for decades—starting with folks like John Dewey. Right now, there’s one of the premier centers of national school reform in this district. Wild, huh? ↺
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China, Competency Based Education, Competition, Monadnock Community Connections School, Monadnock Regional School District, School Change
December 19th, 2008 at 8:20 pm
Well I do not want to through sand into your thinking machine so I will not let anybody worm out of me where the quote comes from. I will let somebody else earn the cookie and you should probably give them a literjon of water to go with it.
December 19th, 2008 at 8:21 pm
I also realized once I hit send that the correct spelling is throw not through.
December 19th, 2008 at 10:31 pm
I know too, but my lips are sealed. By the way, it is wonderful to have power back.
December 22nd, 2008 at 10:07 am
Rob, you know I am a strong supporter of MC2, but I’m starting to get frustrated with hearing just criticism of traditional schools from you. You are a product of our system–and a former teacher here–so you know there are good things going on. How about writing about some of them?
The other issue is what do you do to make it better given the realities of the economy and politics? Part of your success is the low teacher-student ratio, yet the board recently cut 6 elementary teachers, several positions at the high school, and some support positions. The board wants to be made aware of all high school classes below 15 and approve any below 10. As a special program, you get to turn down applicants who don’t fit in. The reality is that we must take your rejects and find a way to educate them.
We have an education committee here at the high school struggling to find a way to improve the quality of education for all our students here given the realities we have to work with. Why not join them and see what you can offer to help them with this problem?
December 24th, 2008 at 10:24 am
Hi Cheryl,
There are a number of points here, and the tricky part is, as always, going to be responding well. The hard part of communication is thinking it’s happening, and I don’t want to type one thing and appear to be saying another. This is especially true given that I am a product of the system, and more importantly I don’t think there’s anything former about my teaching at MRHS. I never left Monadnock—MC2 is a part of that school, and its kids are all our kids.
I think the sooner we start seeing MC2 as a part of MRHS, and not a distant cousin, the better we’ll be. I’ve always thought of MC2 as the point of the spear—but the rest can and must (given the reality of New Hampshire law) follow in at least some fashion. It’s not a matter of “this program over here for these students” but the education of every child.
For the specific points, I realize that outside factors have severally damaged the progress we’ve been trying to make. The three year contract fight distracted everyone from the business of teaching students, and rather than working to make things better we were working to survive. But a great deal of the work that needs to be done right now is internal to the school, and not necessarily something that takes money.
Scheduling and curriculum are not things we have had—nor necessarily would have—political fights over.
I also reject—flatly—that the success of MC2 is based solely (or even mostly) on the teacher-student ratio. It is lower than we want, and should and can be much higher¹ but it’s really based on the relationship with the students that comes from time.
I had a number of classes that mirrored that type of relationship at MRHS—but only because the students were able to have me as their teacher for three years in a row. It occurred by happenstance there, but there’s nothing that says it can’t happen deliberately—and that’s a scheduling, internal change, as well as a mind-set change for teachers. It’s one of dozens of ways that we could, if we’re willing, to make a better more effective change—but we all know there are some who would oppose that idea instantly.
And as far as “taking our rejects”—that’s a mischaracterization of the problem. Right now, MC2 is bordering on having 1/3 of its students special-education coded. If we have many more, then we become a special-education program, and we will not meet the state guidelines for such a thing. The applicants we have had to turn away have not been because we wanted to, but only because we don’t have the capacity to meet their needs.
Trust me, we’re looking for more applicants. It’s part of that “critical mass” I was talking about.
I would also be more than willing to sit on any committee out there²—though I also think that what needs to happen is a sea-change in the way teachers view their task, and realize the hidden curriculum in the way that the school is structured—because otherwise, why would they want to change it? Every human is most comfortable with what they already know, and we’ve all seen good ideas flounder and fall down because people couldn’t see the reasons for them, and therefore didn’t support them.
But I’m not pulling this out of thin air—Dewey, Rousseau, and Freire—have all argued we need to create a better way of educating our children.
It’s partly because I know—and trust—MRHS teachers so much that I feel free to criticize. I don’t know a single one who’s there for the paycheck—every single one of them is an educator, who wants to do the best they can. They, more than any other, are trapped in a poor system, and that system does need to be changed. It’s not a matter of a new program for some kids—it’s about a better system for every kid.
I think I can safely say that nobody thinks what we have right now is ideal. I think, more than anything else, every one would like to go home at the end of the day, at the end of the year, at the end of a career, and say, “I did it right this time.”
There is a large and growing number of people in the district who are seeing that we need some pretty deep change. There are also some—parents, board members, and some teachers—who don’t realize what the problem actually is. I think we can safely discuss the system without dismissing or ignoring the good things that individuals do inside that system—and there are many, and I do talk about them³ but if we aren’t willing to be critical, we won’t improve.
It’s partly my nature. I see problems far easier than I do successes. Because of that, I’m more than pleased to be chided on the content of what I post, and I love it when people post alternate viewpoints—I need to be able to see more than my own small slice of the pie. As always, I remain committed to telling the truth as best as possible, while respecting those individuals who have helped along the way, been supportive, and been working towards a magnificent goal.
But we do need school change, and it will come. I would prefer seeing it come from teachers, (because they know kids best) rather than from the state or private enterprise. The last time we let government change education, we got the disaster of No Child Left Behind.
I’d rather we made the right decisions about education, even if they are hard ones to face.
best,
RJH
1 Providing sufficient support staff, which is part of the problem—there’s a “critical mass” that needs to be present to make having the students and teachers to make it work feasible. It doesn’t matter if a car makes one pit-stop on a race or thirty—all the members of the pit-crew need to be present, otherwise, it just won’t work. ↺ 2 Seriously. Send me an email with meeting dates. ↺
3 Here, here, here, and here, among others. ↺
January 2nd, 2009 at 12:02 pm
Has anyone ever asked the kids what would make the school more effective for them? What things they believe need to be changed? When I went there, it didn’t happen. Also, the only “guidance” I got from the inappropriately named department, was college information. That’s all. How many kids DON’T go on to college(due to financial reasons, family reasons, or GASP! because they don’t want to…), that should also be getting adequate guiding? Why aren’t we showing job opportunities? Resume writing(I know we did that in your class, Rob, but no others), application filling out….why didn’t we learn about banking? Mortgages? Taxes? REAL LIFE? Because it’s easier to throw a crossword puzzle about Catcher in the Rye at us? Because standardized testing is what makes a school look good(or bad, in most cases)? What’s to be done about the kids who are being dragged behind by their teachers and classmates who are at a slower pace than them? Or the students who keep getting pushed along, although they aren’t actually learning anything? Why is it ok for juniors in high school, 17 year olds, to be reading at the same level as a fourth grader? Why doesn’t spelling matter anymore? SOme teachers don’t even grade homework based on if it’s right or not, it’s just if you “tried”, and wrote SOMETHING. You can get a 100% if you know how to apply ink to paper. Genius! You can use your index cards, you can have a cheat sheet, you can use your book during the test.
When will people realize that standardized testing equals standardized thinking, and that we don’t need a slight reform of the system, we need a complete upheaval?
January 19th, 2009 at 6:24 pm
Hey Bresnabubble,
Some of that is very much personal frustration, and some of that does reflect a problem with the system. There are no doubt problem teachers, and there are also excellent teachers forced to do things which are less than ideal because they’re part of the “way” things are done.
Spelling, for instance, is a very good point. We have a generation that’s been raised on spell-check…and that’s not a bad thing! Not only do we know that reading (and spelling) as not entirely natural acts (read Proust and the Squid for some insight) there’s also nothing wrong with using the technologies we have. In fact, we have to use our technologies, and not be afraid of them—Socrates hated the idea of reading, because he thought it would ruin human memory! ¹
He might have been right, honestly. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t read—and we should be teaching kids to use technology. It’s not the technology’s fault.
The deeper problem behind poor spelling is not that a child can’t find some way to do it, (either through technology or practice) but they lack the quality work ethic to get it right. I worked with a kid this morning who was frustrated—and tried 2-3 times to do it right—by her inability to remember how to spell “medieval.” She wanted to do it on her own, and was irritated when she needed to rely on the spell-check.
And then I’ll sit next to kids who will blatantly look at that little red line under their words and ignore it. The real problem is not their ability to spell—they’ll find ways to make it work when they decide it’s important. The real problem is making all the work real enough that they decide to care about each of it deeply and sincerely. There are too many days in a row, too many days of assignments created simply because a grade needs to be in the rank-book in the system we have now—kids would care more, and teachers could pay more attention, if there were fewer assignments and they were “larger” and more in-depth.
But, to be fair, it’s hard to do in the current set-up. My first year teaching, I was rebuked because there were “not enough” grades in the rank-book.
The arguments about standardized testing are valid, and you’re preaching to the choir—nobody serious in education wants a test to be the measure of a school’s success or failure. Likewise, all those things you discuss—houses, mortgages, and all the rest—are pieces that need to be present.² The trick is changing the viewpoint from my curriculum to student learning.
They’re not always the same thing. It takes time, and it’s the hardest thing to find in a high school. In fairness, it’s one of those things that is most under investigation at MRHS—a sincere desire to look at the schedule and the way we do things now with the eye to improving the learning for all our kids. We’ll get there—it will just take some time.
1 In fairness, his argument was a great deal more complex than that. I’m simplifying, as usual. ↺
2 And they are, through the internship program at MC2, though there could just as easily be courses focuses on this in any school. ↺