End of the Wasteland
November 4th, 2009Shortly after World War I, American expatriate T.S. Eliot published The Wasteland, a work that came to embody the feelings of the age. The lights had gone out all over Europe, and there was a sense that nothing had changed, that the future didn’t promise hope, but more of the same.
It’s one of my favorite works. It’s a wonderful test of how much one knows—and my kids learn to like it as well. I used to start my classes with Modernism, with Eliot, and it seems fitting that I end with Eliot.
After all—this was one of the tougher blogs to write. I do hate saying goodbye.
That’s a decision that really shouldn’t surprise anyone who’s been reading this for very long. Over the last six months it’s become increasingly difficult to find the motivation to write, and the lack of updates reflect that.
There are a number of reasons. First, MRHS has changed, and continues to climb out of the mire. It’s a great deal harder to be a voice calling for something better when almost every day something occurs that will lead to improvement. Nothing will be fixed over night, but the attitude has changed: We’re asking ourselves what we can do to make learning more effective, rather than despairing there’s nothing to be done.
Second, I don’t think it’s a matter of educating those in the district anymore about what’s going on in schools. I’m looking a the current discussions about the budget, and all I can do is shake my head—cut 10%? Really? Knowing that there’s no such thing as an “across the board cut” and that it will have a disproportionate effect on teaching?
But I lack the drive to fight it. When a fool and a fanatic get into an argument, it’s hard to say which is which—and I’ve no desire to be either.
Besides, I’m cynical enough to think that nobody ever changed their mind because of what I wrote here.
And, speaking of cynicism, my innate despair about humanity (held at bay for two or more years) has done a fine job of reasserting itself. I firmly believe that education should lift all boats, but I don’t know that it can help anyone survive a flood of Biblical proportions, and the rain clouds aren’t just moving in, they’re down-pouring. What we see in the classroom is not the result of bad teaching, it’s not the result of problems in the system—though these are present and we will face them, we will challenge them, and they will be met—but the result of decisions of a larger society coming to roost.
I’m teaching at the end of the Roman Empire, and most of my students firmly believe there will be bread and entertainment in the Colosseum, and can’t imagine the idea of barbarians pillaging Rome. Worse, mom and dad are just as lost, and there’s little that can be done when the family doesn’t think there’s anything wrong… and in today’s society, where we flatly reject the idea of truth, or right, or wrong, we’re not going to agree on much—right down to whether or not education is valuable.¹
That doesn’t mean anything much, really, for the way I conduct my classes. I spent the last two weeks after school every day, and at one point had an entire class—save three students—after school with me, making up work. After that effort, I have 6 of my 60 students failing, and the reasons are all the same: Attendance and refusal to do the work.
Both are nothing I can control. If I thought it would matter, I would give an incomplete to every kids and allow them to make up the work—but they won’t. They’ve told me so… “Mr. Hale, I ain’t going to do it. I’d rather fail.”²
I sat upon the shore
Fishing, with the arid plain behind me
Shall I at least set my lands in order?
I’ve set my lands—more or less—in order. But the good fight looks a little different than this, and the race is bringing me in another direction.
I might pick this up again. I’ll certainly keep the domain name—if I ever open a coffee franchise, I know what the name will be. But for right now, it feels finished.
Shantih, shantih, shantih.
1 We are, after all, talking about people who don’t see facts and truth the same way I do. I can point to what I feel are convincing arguments all day long, but when the retort is, “Yeah, but I know a guy who…” there’s not much to be done. Post hoc ergo prompter hoc, but nobody knows what that means anymore. When anecdote trumps fact, when people ignore science and research for belief (without even being able to define belief!) then there’s little that can be done, until pain teaches the lesson. ↺
2 In all cases, neither detentions nor phone calls home worked. ↺
November 5th, 2009 at 11:23 am
I’m sorry to see it go.
Take care,
M.A.T.C.S.
November 6th, 2009 at 7:19 am
The written word will be missed. You have done your best with a Sisyphian task and you have earned a well deserved rest. Luckily you and I will be able to continue to discuss these issues in person.
Elliot
November 7th, 2009 at 10:16 am
Thank you for your writing. You have taken the time to reflect on intractable issues and had the courage to care.
‘To everything there is a season…’
Susan
November 11th, 2009 at 7:53 pm
I’m sorry to see you go- but I’m assuming this is an hiatus rather than a full stop. A comma rather than a period, as it were.
November 11th, 2009 at 8:26 pm
bummer
November 14th, 2009 at 4:19 pm
“Being poor in spirit implies that we see in its true light the tendency in us to every thing evil–that we understand that the habitudes of our minds, that our appetites and propensities, that nearly the whole power of the sensibility continually tends to selfishness”. Let me put it this way, don’t be a mister cloudy day!
Sulk for a while then salute smartly and continue to charge on up the hill.You can save all of them or just one it’s all worth it. You never know what you say to a kid today may sprout into something great in years to come. Rest, cut back on the coffee, I’ll see ya around.
November 25th, 2009 at 5:09 pm
Hmm…where to begin? The analogy with the Romans is startlingly accurate in all aspects of life, I’m finding. And honestly, it horrifies me. Not nearly enough people are asking the powers that be the correct questions anymore….Why? Really? Are you sure? How do you know that? Can you prove it? Our education system is making the biggest mistake ever with the “no tolerance” bullshit. We should be teaching kids, especially young adults, to constantly be asking questions, never to stagnate, and to not settle for half-assed answers solely because they may be easier to grasp.
To cut funds is to cut the future, as heinously corny as that sounds. We need to be finding out alternative ways to get kids not only interested in learning in school, but in LIFE. Because I hated much of the structured school system,many of my teachers were startled to learn that I speak clear and precise english, love to read, teach myself new things constantly, and test extrordinarily well. It’s ridiculous to assume every seventeen year old needs to do a crossword puzzle with vocabulary words to learn about the American Revolution. Some kids need it, some don’t. Any teacher worth their paycheck should be able to tell within the first month of school who those kids are. Why bother having leveled classes if they aren’t truly the same level? I wish the school board meetings didn’t seem to scoff at young adults so much, the one I went to people treated me like a child, like I couldn’t possibly have an opinion on the matter because I haven’t sent children into the system yet. Nevermind the fact that I went to school there and pay taxes in the town, or that I continually vote to improve the school.
I guess the ending to this, all of it, is a resounding HARUMPH on my part.