“He who opens a school door, closes a prison.”
Victor Hugo (1802-1885)
Excerpted from: Howe, Randy, ed. The Quotable Teacher. Guilford, CT: The Lyons Press, 2003.
“He who opens a school door, closes a prison.”
Victor Hugo (1802-1885)
Excerpted from: Howe, Randy, ed. The Quotable Teacher. Guilford, CT: The Lyons Press, 2003.
One can only stand in awe and admiration, in my not particularly humble opinion, of this extraordinary child.
I’d hoped to have a combination worksheet/learning support on citing sources for research papers ready to post this week, but events intervened: these documents aren’t quite ready, alas.
Instead, I’ll post this list of daily salutations that I use each day on my board. These are quick vocabulary builders, and if you have inquisitive students, they’ll ask what each salutation means. In other words, these words, which I use to follow either “Good Morning” or “Good Afternoon,” have the potential to supply you with an instant teachable moment at the beginning of a class period.
If you find typos in these documents, I would appreciate a notification. And, as always, if you find this material useful in your practice, I would be grateful to hear what you think of it. I seek your peer review.
Astute readers of Jane Jacobs‘ classic The Death and Life of Great American Cities recognize from its first page that Ms. Jacobs was an extremely subtle observer of the phenomena that interested her–the street life of New York City, and more specifically, the activities of her neighbors on her lovely block along Hudson Street in Greenwich Village. Ms. Jacobs was able to recognize patterns in the day-to-day activities of the residents of New York City (and Philadelphia as well, to wit Rittenhouse Square, which is a neighborhood very similar to the Village) that most other people, particularly her principal foe, New York City “master builder” Robert Moses, simply could not or would not. Her powers of perception, and her gift for composing lucid prose that dealt with complex issues, have made The Death and Life of Great American Cities a staple of urban planning curricula at the college level. Robert Caro has apparently said that the book was the strongest influence on his masterful biography of Moses, The Power Broker.
Diane Ravitch opens her book The Death and Life of the Great American School System by announcing that its title is an homage to Jane Jacobs and her magisterial assessment of the life of cities. That’s clearly the case, but there’s much more to this book–and what it says about Diane Ravitch the historian and author. Like Jane Jacobs, Dr. Ravitch possesses exquisitely subtle powers of observation and perception. Her bailiwick, however, is public education. While it is true that Robert Moses was the leader of a large bureaucracy, he clearly enjoyed the limelight, which made him a focal point for Jane Jacobs, a clearly identifiable opponent. Educational “reform” is a dense and tangled forest of persons, bureaucracies, institutions, and foundations (not to mention motivations), many of whom operate surreptitiously. Sorting out the strands of this web–something for which many busy teachers have no time, if no patience as well (I certainly don’t)–takes real dedication and talent, something Diane Ravitch, the reader will observe from the first page of her book, possesses in ample measure. As a prose stylist, she surpasses Ms. Jacobs, which is no mean feat.
In any case, this book addresses the tendency of education scholarship, theory, and practice, to cycle through various fads. While these generally range from the silly to the occasionally deleterious, it is our current state of “reform” faddism, led by “reformers” like Michelle Rhee, Joel Klein, Arne Duncan, and the man who succeeded Mr. Duncan as United States Secretary of Education (after antagonizing parents and teachers across New York State), John King, Jr., that this book exposes and analyzes. The corporate foundations–Bill and Melinda Gates, The Walton (i.e Wal-Mart) Family Foundation, The Broad Foundation and their ilk–that abet the various enterprises that this group of functionaries oversees suggests what the real project here is: privatizing public education so that “educational entrepreneurs” can capitalize on it. It’s no coincidence that various hedge fund billionaires–you know, those self-proclaimed geniuses who were culpable in almost driving the world economy off a cliff in 2008–have jumped on this particular bandwagon. Dr. Ravitch has followed these trends closely, knows the players–in some cases personally–and sorts them out for her reader.
What makes this book particularly compelling is the fact that Dr. Ravitch, who served in the administrations of George H.W. Bush and Bill Clinton, was a proponent of George W. Bush’s signature, and dubious, education legislation, “No Child Left Behind.” One of the most compelling moments in her narrative occurs when she realizes that No Child Left Behind is doomed to failure, and that she has bet on the wrong horse. Indeed, she repudiates this piece of dismal legislation in a few economical but well-sourced sentences.
As that great subverter Nietzsche wrote, “a very popular error–having the courage of one’s convictions: Rather it is a matter of having the courage for an attack on one’s convictions.” Diane Ravitch demonstrates such courage here, and I have to imagine that it was neither fun nor easy to excoriate one’s former positions before the public as she does in this book. What makes Dr. Ravitch a paragon of scholarly disinterest and integrity is her willingness to follow the evidence. She does so here, and distills it into highly readable (I envy her ability to pack so much information into a single declarative sentence) account of these reformers and their failed ideas.
Posted in Essays/Readings, New York City, Social Sciences
Tagged professional development
“An education isn’t how much you have committed to memory, or even how much you know. It’s being able to differentiate between what you do know and what you don’t.”
Anatole France (1844-1924)
Excerpted from: Howe, Randy, ed. The Quotable Teacher. Guilford, CT: The Lyons Press, 2003.
“The object of teaching a child is to enable him to get along without his teacher.”
Elbert Hubbard (1856-1915)
Excerpted from: Howe, Randy, ed. The Quotable Teacher. Guilford, CT: The Lyons Press, 2003.
“The art of teaching is the art of assisting discovery.”
Mark Van Doren (1894-1973)
Excerpted from: Howe, Randy, ed. The Quotable Teacher. Guilford, CT: The Lyons Press, 2003.
Next week is my badly needed spring break, so Mark’s Text Terminal will be on sabbatical, enjoying spring weather and light. I’ll return with a fresh Weekly Text on Friday, May 6. For today, here is a glossary of basic poetic terms. One of these days I’m going to write a unit to accompany this support. This learning support is several years old, and it is an example of the kind of cart-before-the-horse planning I used as a novice teacher. I suspect this will be useful for teachers–if nothing else, it can be manipulated to serve your purposes in teaching poetry and poetic from.
Happy Spring! See you again on May 6.
If you find typos in this document, I would appreciate a notification. And, as always, if you find this material useful in your practice, I would be grateful to hear what you think of it. I seek your peer review.
There are number of charter school chains operating in New York City, and nationally, which vaunt their “no excuses” approach to student discipline. My own admittedly cursory understanding of this behavioral cosmology is that it means what it says: teachers, school administrators–in other words, the authority figures that matter in school–will accept “no excuses” for poor disciplinary or academic performance in school.
Unsurprisingly, this controversial approach to dealing with students has found its way into public schools, and into the collective consciousness and discourse of administrators and teachers. Whatever the merits or demerits of this approach to managing students’ behavior, it militantly ignores the economic, social and emotional realities of students’s lives. Indeed, the quality of students’ interior and social lives is essentially shunted aside in favor of the metrics that standardized tests provide.There is talk now of a test to measure “grit,” which is the new buzzword to describe a student’s resilience. This has tended to strike me as primarily an ideological and bureaucratic fantasy, and ignores psychological realities, among others.
The “no excuses” ideology has lodged itself among educators in what has begun to look like an institutional denial of poverty as a cause of children’s problems in school. Facebook friends of mine who work as educators complain regularly of their superiors’ unwillingness to discuss the role of poverty, in professional development sessions and the like, in our students’ struggles. This is particularly offensive to many teachers, as it–patently–displays an appalling ignorance of the role of poverty in students who struggle in school. I suspect that for many of us, our understanding of this dynamic is common sense, or instinctual.
Happily, and thanks to Sendal Mullainathan and Eldar Shafir and their excellent book Scarcity: The New Science of Having Less and How it Defines Our Lives, teachers now have ready access to the empirical data they need to support their arguments on poverty’s effect on students’ intellectual lives. Both of these scholars are leaders in their fields. Yet they have written a highly readable, cogent work that presents their important scholarship in plain English.
To make a concise story short for the purposes of this review, Messrs. Mullainathan and Shafir designed a number of basic experiments in cognitive psychology that called upon subjects to consider outcomes and make decisions in circumstances of real or imagined scarcity. What they found, unsurprisingly, is that when people must make decisions in straitened circumstances, they tended to lose several IQ points. In other words, poverty and scarcity hamper clear and effective cognition.
Needless to say, I’d like to see another book from these scholars that explores this further. I don’t know about you, but in the meantime, if I encounter administrators or colleagues who tout the “no excuses” line, I’ll point out that ignorance of this research and its literature is no excuse for not understanding poverty’s effect on our students’ lives.
Do you have people in your life with poor personal boundaries? Do they approach you and seek to retail what my students have designated (from texting usage, I must assume) “TMI”–too much information? Do these people–even worse–elicit your advice, or, heaven forfend, presume to offer you advice? The legendary dramatist George S. Kaufman dealt with these people, and, as this hilarious anecdote from Jon S. Winokur’s The Portable Curmudgeon (New York: Plume, 1992) shows, Mr. Kaufman didn’t suffer them gladly:
“On the television show This Is Show Business, a youthful Eddie Fisher complained that girls refused to date him because of his age, and he asked Kaufman’s advice. Kaufman replied. ‘Mr. Fisher, on Mount Wilson there is a telescope that can magnify the most distant stars up to twenty-four times the magnification of any previous telescope. This remarkable instrument was unsurpassed in the world of astronomy until the construction of the Mount Palomar telescope, an even more remarkable instrument of magnification. Owing to advances and improvements in optical technology, it is capable of magnifying the stars up to four times the magnification and resolution of the Mount Wilson telescope.
“Mr. Fisher, if you could somehow put the Mount Wilson telescope inside the Mount Palomar telescope, you still wouldn’t be able to detect my interest in your problem.'”
Posted in English Language Arts, Essays/Readings, Quotes, Reference
Tagged drama/theater, humor
You must be logged in to post a comment.