democracy.edu

democracy.edu http://democraticeducation.org/index.php/blog/ Education professors and teachers in training give readers a window into the colleges and universities where teachers learn to teach. en kmorrison12@radford.edu Copyright 2012 2012-01-11T19:59:50+00:00 My Love/Hate Relationship with Educational Numbers http://democraticeducation.org/index.php/blog/article/my_love_hate_relationship_with_educational_numbers/ http://democraticeducation.org/index.php/blog/article/my_love_hate_relationship_with_educational_numbers/#When:18:59:50Z
While such info can certainly be useful in some ways, I cringe at how there is an assumption underlying the whole process that the professor of the classes and faculty of the department can no longer be the judges of whether or not we are doing what we should be doing. I know, I know; some people assume that without accountability people will slack, but I personally don't slack when someone isn't watching over me! I have very high expectations for myself and so I bristle whenever people assume that I don't.

So, now I am having to sit down with other folks who teach our graduate classes and come up with some easily quantifiable assessments that will give us “hard data” on whether we are doing what we are supposed to be doing. A major complication of this for me is the nature of a number of our classes. These classes, such as multicultural education and foundations of education, are not your conventional, transmission-model classes. We are not overly concerned with whether or not our students walk out with a “bunch ‘o facts;” instead, we want to know if our students have engaged with the material in a serious and critical manner ...have they thought deeply about what they have read and discussed in class? Have they shown fledgling steps toward being informed advocates of sound educational practice? Have they examined issues from multiple perspectives and sought an understanding of "cui bono" (who benefits and who doesn't by certain practices)? I and my fellow professors already have qualitative assessments (assignments) that help us to determine these things, but now we have to grotesquely contort ourselves into the quantitative mold and satisfy the "powers that be." This stinks. And it makes me worry that, as my K-12 public school counterparts have experienced over the past 10 years with NCLB, if I don't fight this forced contortion now, will it just keep getting worse and worse? Do I take a stand with my school director, college dean, and our accrediting agency and assert that some courses just don't lend themselves well to quantitative measurements? Must I proclaim from the rooftops that "Not everything that counts can be counted, and not everything that can be counted counts!"?

But then I think about the fact that I have not taken a substantive stand against the major source of quantitation that already exists in my classes--the process of grading my students. Does my capitulation to the practice of grading mean that I should be OK with all forms of quantitation? Am I being inconsistent if I am relatively OK with one (grading), yet reject the other (accreditation assessments)? Or are there distinctions between the two forms?

I have actually been muddling through this question of grades in the college classroom recently. I have written in the past about concerns I have had with grading at the K-12 level, about how it tends to take students' focus away from actual learning, makes them less willing to take intellectual risks, and how it focuses them on extrinsic motivators rather than intrinsic, etc. But lately I have also been thankful for the fact that I have to grade my college-level students because I believe that it does a service for our school districts in their hiring processes (e.g. it gives them an idea of who are the students that tend to put in more effort, have more nuanced understandings, evidence more creativity, etc., which I think helps make HR decisions, and which ultimately leads school districts to get better teachers). I know in my heart of hearts that I should not feel this way because grades aren't perfect -- they don't capture whether or not a student is having challenges outside of my class that are impacting what they can put into my class, nor do they capture other intangible things, but yet at the same time, I can't overlook the fact that there seem to be students in every semester's classes who, by my reckoning, far exceed other students in their diligence, creativity, and understanding of the practice of teaching (the nuances, the complexities, etc.). Shouldn't such students get preference in being employed in this competitive economy?

But if I believe the above, then shouldn't I also be OK with having my own work quantitatively measured (thru accreditation-mandated assessments)? What is good for the goose ought to be good for the gander, no? Should my students bristle because I seem to be assuming that without the grade hanging over their heads they won't put in their best effort? Should they take a stand against me? And if they did, how would I react? Arrgghh, my brain hurts! How can I feel both ways at once? Do other teachers feel these inherent contradictions of their beliefs and practices? What can we do about it?
]]> 2012-01-11T18:59:50+00:00 Education Superheroes Coming to Your Town Soon! Review of Yaacov Hecht’s Democratic Education http://democraticeducation.org/index.php/blog/article/education_superheroes_coming_to_your_town_soon_a_review_of_yaacov_hechts_de/ http://democraticeducation.org/index.php/blog/article/education_superheroes_coming_to_your_town_soon_a_review_of_yaacov_hechts_de/#When:19:21:40Z Xmen, Thor, Green Lantern, Captain America, etc.) because I just love superheroes -- as a kid I tried to turn myself into Wonder Woman after watching Lynda Carter do it on TV. My spinning around never resulted in any transformation, but a girl can dream, can't she?

I've been thinking lately about how superhero stories are so popular and wondering what this says about our collective cultural psyche. Do we somehow, deep down, desire to save the world and make it a better place? Or is it that we think only someone special can do it and we can only wait and watch on the sidelines? I want to think it is the former -- that we all want to be “super” and help to bring about change. I mean, as a kid I was trying to turn myself into Wonder Woman, not Steve Trevor (her clueless boss/ victim of various Nazi plots/ romantic interest)!

I am currently teaching an online summer graduate class on educational alternatives and many of the students seem to be struggling -- not with the values and concepts underlying educational alternatives so much, but rather with a wistful hope that we could make conventional public schools more like the alternatives about which we're reading. I get the sense sometimes that some of my students are wishing for a superhero to jump in and save the day, educationally speaking, to fix what ails our current systems and make it all better in a flash. My students struggle, as do I, with the huge question of whether or not we will ever see substantive change in our approach to educating youth. I wish I could tell them a hero/ great educational leader/ mutant/ creature from another planet was on his/her way to save us all from the iron grip of NCLB-Man and his minions, Standard Curriculum Boy and Grade Monger. But that would be giving false hope as well as denying my students the opportunity to see themselves as heroes/change agents for a brighter, more democratic/egalitarian tomorrow.

Even though my readings are already chosen for this summer's offering of the class, I am constantly on the lookout for other sources to use, so when Isaac Graves asked IDEA bloggers if anyone was interested in reviewing Yaacov Hecht's book, newly put out by AERO, entitled Democratic Education, I jumped at the chance. What I discovered upon reading it was confirmation of my belief that we can all be superheroes regarding improving the educational system --he and all the other democratic educators mentioned throughout the book are our models!

When I first received this 380+ page book in the mail, I worried that I wouldn't get thru it in time to do my June blog post, but here I am, less than 2 weeks later, writing my review. This book is a highly accessible and fascinating read. At first, I thought it would simply be the story of the democratic school of Hadera (the first Israeli democratic school, which Hecht helped to found) along the lines of my book Free School Teaching about the Albany Free School. What I found was so much more, no doubt due to the fact that Hecht has lived the life of a democratic educator/ networker/ international movement leader for the past 20+ years, whereas I only spent a mere 3 months at the Albany Free School. My reflections and knowledge depth about democratic education are absolutely paltry compared to his and thus I was excited to read his work. He not only described the historical development of the Democratic School of Hadera and others, detailing the structures, functions, and practices of children and adults in these learning communities, but he also expanded beyond mere descriptions of individual school and peoples' experiences and led us to the very core of what learning is, how it happens under optimal conditions, and how to work towards a better educational system and, ultimately, a better world.

Chapter 1 and 2 of the book provide us with Hecht's background and the initial development of the concepts of democratic education in Israel. In chapter 3, he beautifully explains the meaning of pluralistic learning, using imagery of “the square” and “the tight rope” to show us how limited conventional education's / society's understanding is of the vastness of knowledge and human potential. Chapter 4 continues the ideas with a clear examination of how people progress through the pluralistic learning process, moving from areas of strength to areas of growth, moving from not-knowing to knowing and back again. Hecht's use of explanatory visual images brings his points home with a power that words alone do not possess.

In chapter 4, Hecht not only describes students' learning processes, he also explores the transition problems students sometimes face when acclimating to this new definition of learning (that actually values them and their diversity), and he answers frequent criticisms/questions levied on democratic schools (a 36-page section that may be of significant use in my discussion of democratic schools with my many students).

Chapter 5 describes the role of the adults in democratic schools and the various traps that they (teachers, parents, etc.) go through when first encountering this new form of education. He illustrates that the schools are not merely places for children, but also can serve entire communities.

While chapters 1-5 were very engaging and interesting, chapters 6-8 were the ones that I felt offered some of the newest/most exciting information. In these chapters, Hecht describes how the founders of the Democratic School of Hadera were not content for their school to be a lone example of democratic educational practices, and so began an entire movement for democratic education in Israel which hooked into educational democratizing efforts worldwide. With tremendous depth, Hecht details how a movement gains momentum, what pitfalls exist, and what conditions lead to success. In these chapters, Hecht powerfully argues and, I think, proves that democratic education is not just about changing education, that it is also, in fact, about changing the world into one that is more sustainable, peaceful and creative (as opposed to destructive), and one that honors the dignity and contribution of each individual human and creature on this planet.

His book not only educated me, it also gave me tremendous hope. When discussing educational alternatives (democractic education in particular), so many of my students ask whether there is any hope -- can we possibly ever fix what ails us? Isn't the sort of change described by democratic educators actually impossible on a wide scale? Hecht answers a variation of these questions by saying that “a negative answer will surely lead” to a negative result (in that if one thinks change won't happen, then no one will work for it to happen). “Therefore, we have no choice [but] to cope with this challenge.” This superhero educator is basically telling us that, in the end, we are our own superheroes and if we want to see change, we have to make it happen. Democratic Education helps show us how to make our dreams for a better world become reality. ]]> 2011-06-20T19:21:40+00:00 What is the Point of Theory When Seeking to Change Education? http://democraticeducation.org/index.php/blog/article/what_is_the_point_of_theory_when_seeking_to_change_education/ http://democraticeducation.org/index.php/blog/article/what_is_the_point_of_theory_when_seeking_to_change_education/#When:14:07:20Z Radical Education and the Common School by Fielding and Moss) because of my own work in the area of democractic education, and so I was expecting to be very positive about it. I ended up writing a mixed review, though. While I totally agreed with what the authors were arguing for (more democractic forms of education, ethics of care and encounter, seeking to make education an enjoyable, lifelong endeavor focused on making the world a better place, e.g. more sustainable, caring, just), my criticisms centered on the fact that the work was way too theoretically dense for my likes. In other words, there was so much specialized and abstract philosophical jargon that I found the greater message of the work was sometimes lost. To illustrate what I mean, I could take a cheap shot right now and quote one of the book's lengthy, multi-clause sentences filled with esoteric references and polysyllabic words, but that would not be fair, I know, and I don't really want to be overly critical of a work whose end purpose I view as totally worthwhile. But I just get very frustrated when I read works like that - they make me wonder if the authors really think such verbiage will result in any substantive change in the greater culture if hardly anyone can slog their way through what they're saying in order to get to the beautiful core.

I have fought this fight since graduate school - I distinctly recall discussing this nine years ago with one of of my doctoral program professors when we were reading some works by Henry Giroux and Peter McClaren. I asked, "if these scholars really want to change how education is done in the US, and if they truly believe that such change will only come democratically and from the grass roots, then why don't they use language in their writing that is accessible to a wider audience?" My professor responded that perhaps their use of language was like abstract art - that they're trying to express something unique and so different that it can't be put into normal, everday language, that this "translation" is the job of others, to critique it, to make connections to the world that is, etc. That answer did make some sense at the time. I mean, reading theory and personally applying it to my own life did help me to better understand my own education and teaching experiences on a greater level (see chapter 2 of my book Free School Teaching entitled "A Language for Self-Understanding").

But, I am still not 100% convinced. For example, the book I was reviewing, I felt, offered very little novelty in the argument for more democratic education. In my review, I mentioned that other scholars in the past 40+ years have been offering up similar critiques of conventional schools and arguing for essentially the same things these two authors were. So, the "abstract art" argument of putting new ideas into a new language didn't apply here for there were no really new ideas! To me, this begs the question: "Doesn't there come a point when philosophizing, theorizing, and specialized academic jargon need to end and we need to get down to 'brass tacks'?" [I recognize the irony here that in saying this, I am, in essence, articulating a theory of action.]

I frequently get fed up with the seeming insularity of academic writing that shows up in conferences, in scholarly books and journals, etc. Sometimes I want to scream at the futility of it all! But then I take a deep breath. I do recognize that theory and academic writing and talking play important roles in change. I guess I am just impatient to get on with it. But then when I turn the spotlight on myself and my life's work, I see that I am little better than what I am critiquing. I, too, am still working in the "ivory tower" rather than being out in the field starting the schools that I long for. Sure, I may be raising awareness through my teaching and writing, but sometimes that just doesn't seem enough. So, perhaps my criticisms of the book I reviewed were really a form of self-critique/self-chastisement. What is the point or value of theory and writing and speaking when seeking educational change? Are we past the need for this reflection and overdue for the action component of the praxis process - or must the two always be in play together?]]> 2011-05-16T14:07:20+00:00 “Being Real” in Life and Learning http://democraticeducation.org/index.php/blog/article/being_real_in_life_and_learning/ http://democraticeducation.org/index.php/blog/article/being_real_in_life_and_learning/#When:17:58:21Z Washington Post article on how Pulaski, VA is under tremendous economic strain). Not only are my husband and I incredibly fortunate to not have been in town to witness what must have been a terrifying storm, but our property also received no damage. In fact, the only damage I've seen firsthand was a gas station that lost its roof. Police and disaster-assistance crews have discouraged the general public from going to the areas hardest hit (perhaps out of fear of looting? Or just dangerous conditions? Not sure) and so I have not actually seen with my own eyes the effects of the storm on my community. Sure, I've seen pictures, but it just isn't the same as a firsthand look and in many ways I feel distanced from this event and its aftermath. Even though I have contributed to funds for rebuilding, it still does not seem real to me that it all happened.

This concept of "realness" and the lack thereof has been pushing itself into my consciousness more and more of late, particularly as it relates to teaching and learning. (I don't mean to take away from the gravity of natural disasters by linking them to mundane school concerns -- but school is my life and connections in thinking do happen!) For example, this semester I've been teaching an undergraduate course in a new room on campus. The room will not physically allow us to put the tables into a circle for seminar discussion and it has been impacting how I have been experiencing the class all semester. The room setup does not allow me to be on the same level as students, both literally and figuratively speaking. For me to be seen by the whole class, I must stand rather than sit at the same level as them, and when I visit with or listen in on small group discussions, I cannot do it in as unobtrusive a way as I can in other classrooms -- my presence is too obvious and because I'm often standing, there seems, to me at least, to be this distance between my students and myself. The relationships that I can develop with my students thus feel less democratic, less equal, less real and, instead, more authoritarian, more hierarchical, and more artificial. I don't get the sense, as I do in classrooms where I am generally seated on the same level as my students, that we're just a group of people sitting around exploring educational issues, and I thus do not feel that I can relate to my students as well. Maybe it's just me and not being used to a new room set up, but this difference has really been bothering me, much in the same way that my not seeing the tornado damage has bothered me -- I just feel distanced from it all.

The day the tornadoes occurred, I was attending a conference in Florida at which I presented on my experiences with online teaching. The basic thesis of my presentation was that teaching online synchronous classes (through a web conferencing system like Adobe Connect) are OK, but they're not as satisfying as face-to-face classes. In other words, they do the job, but they are just not the same. Relationships are limited, lesson plans do not come through with the same depth, etc. In essence, this is another example of things just not being quite real enough for me -- in this case, the realness is dampened by the technological medium.

Another area where I'm noticing a sense of artificiality is in one of my colleague's work. My fellow Radford University professor, Dr. Matt Dunleavy, is working on cutting-edge instructional technology, what he terms "augmented reality"-- games and simulations that are brought to K-12 public school classrooms. In essence, his work is an outgrowth of problem-based learning, but is carried out with a heavy dose of technology. For example, he can create games/apps that people play with iphones in an actual physical space (e.g. a schoolyard). Using GPS mapping, he can program a game to have certain hotspots and when a student holding a GPS-enabled iphone physically steps into a hot spot, information is displayed on the iphone to help the student gain information, make decisions, etc. (Maybe the best and briefest analogy would be it is a treasure hunt of sorts using iphone hot spots as the various clue points -- but of course, this augmented reality stuff utilizes lots more critical thinking skills). While this work that Dr. Dunleavy is doing is fascinating and exciting for teachers and students to utilize in schools, the whole concept troubles me in the same ways the tornadoes, my non-seminar suited classroom, and my online courses trouble me. They lack an important element of realness then I think is so important to the learning process. Sure, students are likely enjoying and learning, but is the learning as real (deep, transferable, long lasting) as it would be were the scenario truly authentic? I know I can learn through books and websites, but I also know that I own the learning more when it is more real to me -- something that I have experienced firsthand, that has true consequences, and so on. An analogy might be along the lines of doctors doing rounds -- surely they learn more and better from this than they do in a classroom even with the very best simulation materials around?

I wish I had better words for what I'm trying to express on a cognitive science level, but the closest understanding I have is Mihály Csíkszentmihályi's idea of a flow experience, and I'm not even 100% sure that this concept is that close to what I mean.

I guess I will forever grapple with the artificiality/lack of realness that exists in our modern society's conception of education. As John Gatto has extensively argued, maybe we need to get (return?) to a place where learning is immediate, first hand, relevant, and, for lack of a better word, REAL. I felt this kind of realness in learning when I was interning at/researching the Albany Free School in 2003 and I hunger to have that sort of realness in my teaching all the time. Perhaps our society in general is too "advanced" or fast-paced for this? While that may be so, I still think something intangible is lost and that the more things (e.g. teachers, technology, physical spaces) we put between ourselves and the world, the further away we push real learning.

Does this discomfort over "realness" and learning resonate with anyone out there? Help me to better articulate my thoughts -- is the best term "realness" or is there something better/more precise out there? Are there authors I should read that address this issue? ]]> 2011-04-20T17:58:21+00:00 Brainwashing vs. Advocating an Agenda - A Very Fine Line http://democraticeducation.org/index.php/blog/article/brainwashing_vs._advocacating_an_agenda_-_a_very_fine_line/ http://democraticeducation.org/index.php/blog/article/brainwashing_vs._advocacating_an_agenda_-_a_very_fine_line/#When:18:44:36Z Back in September, I blogged about how I had trouble hiding my viewpoints when teaching. This topic has arisen again lately for both myself and colleagues in my department and so I have more to say on the issue.

This past fall, I was fortunate to have a number of students in my classes who felt comfortable enough to openly engage me in debate on various issues. They challenged my choices of readings and my all-too-obvious philosophical leanings toward a more democratic and socially just form of education. Some of the students just plain disagreed with me, while others, one of whom had just completed law school and was thoroughly trained in Socratic discussion, mainly wanted to raise opposition points to deepen our discussion. I valued both sets of students for the depth they brought to our classes. One of the former set, though, at numerous times over the semester, somewhat jokingly argued that I was trying to brainwash my students to agree with me and my views on education. That stung, but also gave me pause. Do I ultimately set out to make students believe certain things about our education system?

I was speaking with a colleague about this issue recently, and he indicated that he is struggling with some of the same issues in his multicultural education class. Some of his students (of Caucasian descent) recently alleged that he made them feel uncomfortable for seeming to agree more with some African-American students who argued that mistreatment of white people by people of color is not the same as racism directed toward minority populations (e.g. the question was raised, "Why is it seemingly OK for people of color to call a white person a 'cracker' but not OK when a white person calls a black person the 'n-word'?") The African-American students argued that while the former is certainly not nice, it simply isn't the same as the latter. My colleague agreed, and the Caucasian students were upset that their view of it being essentially the same (that calling a white person a "cracker" is, in fact, "reverse racism" or "reverse discrimination") was not validated in any way. Like me, my colleague has essentially been accused by his students of trying to brainwash them to believe in certain values, such as equity, cultural reponsiveness, etc.

Are our students right? Are we trying to "brainwash" them to believe as we do? While I indicated in my September blog that I have been working harder at being more even-handed in my teaching (bringing in more readings and film clips that run counter to my views, tweaking my discussion leadership assignment to now being called VOODL - Voice of Opposition Discussion Leadership and really super-emphasizing the importance of poking holes in the arguments of our authors and of me), with the recent raising of these issues again, I think I must finally admit that I do have an agenda. But is having an agenda tantamount to brainwashing? I somehow think not. Maybe I am rationalizing, I don't know.

This I know and strongly assert: there is great value in working to develop students' critical thinking skills and, in my teaching, I will continue to work towards this goal. I also definitely want all my students to feel comfortable in voicing their thoughts and opinions in class because doing so creates a safe environment/community of learners as well as deeper discussions. But I also will try to convince - through choice of teaching materials and through questions and activities- my students that it is the work of educators to not only teach academic content, but to also work to create democratic citizens (that means people who value equality, justice, fairness, and pursuit of truth through rational discussion and empirical evidence). That quite clearly is an agenda. But is it brainwashing? I looked up the definition of brainwashing to see how it might be different and found these two meanings: "1) a forcible indoctrination to induce someone to give up basic political, social, or religious beliefs and attitudes and to accept contrasting regimented ideas; 2) persuasion by propaganda or salesmanship."

Well, if we go by the first definition, then my agenda is not the same as brainwashing - for I am using no forcible means to indoctrinate my students to accept my views on the purpose of education (although some could point out that the use of grades in classes might create an environment where students feel like they are being forced to agree with the professor in order to get a good grade; but that is a blog posting topic for another day!). If we go by the second definition and then furthermore define propaganda as "the spreading of ideas, and information... for the purpose of helping ...an institution, a cause, or a person," then perhaps what I am doing is brainwashing! Ouch!!

As I mentioned above, when my student accused me of brainwashing him, I was stung for I do not like to characterize what I do as such; however, his words also gave me pause and have required me to reflect on my intentions. If I assert a personal agenda, but, AT THE SAME TIME, also work to develop my students' critical thinking skills, am I canceling out the negative effects of pushing an agenda with the positive effects of helping equip my students with the tools needed to challenge that agenda? I sure hope so, but could be wrong. Would appreciate others' thoughts on this for I sure am struggling with it!]]> 2011-03-09T18:44:36+00:00 Resisting Temptation: Staying True to Your “Prime Directive” http://democraticeducation.org/index.php/blog/article/resisting_temptation_staying_true_to_your_prime_directive/ http://democraticeducation.org/index.php/blog/article/resisting_temptation_staying_true_to_your_prime_directive/#When:14:56:11Z
In mid-January, an announcement was circulated at my university that an Associate Director position was opening in the school's Honors Academy. As at many universities, students with high GPAs are invited to take special honors courses, engage in independent research, develop deeper relationships with faculty, and, if all requirements are met, graduate with special honors. The position caught my eye in part because I like working with students on research; but if I am 100% honest, I was mostly drawn to the idea that I could make more money if I were to get this job. Faculty at my university have not received raises in three years and there seems to be no prospect of raises in the next couple of years either. Yeah, yeah, I know, cry me a river. I recognize now that I am doing just fine economically and am incredibly grateful for what I have, but as I said above, I was temporarily blinded by the possibility of making more money and getting into a stepping-stone position for other future university-administration-type jobs.

So I threw my hat in the ring and began with the internal rationalizations. "I could do a great job in this position because I am a good advisor to students....I can help them craft programs of study that will be personally meaningful....I can encourage these bright individuals to see that they were given their intellectual gifts in order to make the world a better place..." and on and on. But still, in the back of my mind, I kept thinking, "If I get this job, we could replace our 15-year-old and/or our 13-year-old cars this year....or we could take a really awesome vacation...etc."

Well, not to prolong the suspense here, I interviewed for the job in early February and found out this past Sunday that I did not get it. And I really am VERY glad that I didn't get offered the job. You might be skeptical of my relief, saying, "Yeah, right, she's glad. This posting is just a case of her salving her ego over not getting the job." And maybe that is true to some degree; I am not sure myself, but I don't think this is a case of sour grapes.

I am seeing this as more of a case of my spirit and philosophy dodging a bullet. Had I been offered and then accepted this job, what compromises would I have had to make? While I acknowledge that the Honors Academy honestly strives to make the university experience more personalized, meaningful, and challenging to students, the whole existence of an Honors Academy still smacks of a meritocratic system focused on distinguishing some students above others in our hierarchical society. I have railed against this sifting and sorting aspect of education for years now, yet, all rationalizations aside, I was actively seeking to step into the very belly of the beast! And partly for reasons of personal aggrandizement, no less!

In my foundations courses, I speak frequently to my students (pre- and in-service teachers) about finding their core beliefs about the purpose of education. The sci-fi geek in me comes out as I urge them to define their own "Prime Directive" - a core value or imperative to which they will hold up all their educational/instructional decisions. I speak to students about how one's core beliefs might come into conflict with the values of the greater society, but if one holds true to one's spirit, the rewards will be great satisfaction and peace of mind. And I DO try to live that advice myself and try to model being a teacher who, while surrounded by a conventional education institution, tries to break out in whatever ways I can and live my beliefs about education (e.g. by trying to de-emphasize grades as much as possible, giving students more voice and choice in class, breaking down the teacher authority, etc.), but, boy, did I fail miserably at living my beliefs when I applied for the Honors Academy job.

I am beating myself up about my temporary lack of vision and my seeming inability to resist materialist temptations, yes; but I think we sometimes need to go through these sort of mini-crises of faith. I freshly appreciate/see with new eyes what I do have with my existing job and salary, and my "prime directive" is now more fully in my sight. I also begin to notice that I am not the only one struggling with these temptations. For example, I am currently reading (and am absolutely enthralled by) Rick Posner's 2009 book on the Jefferson County Open School - Lives of Passion, Schools of Hope. In this book, he explores school alumni's reflections on how the school impacted their lives into adulthood.

In the chapter called "Work and Life in the Real World," a number of alumni speak about struggling with making decisions about what lines of work to go into while also remaining "in line with" or "in tune with" their spirit/core values. I see through such readings that I am not the only one who struggles with the societal norms/quest to make more money and yet also live their beliefs. Sometimes people's philosophies don't "win out" in the battle against material pressures; but luckily my beliefs won by default by my not being offered the job. I would hope, had I been offered the job, that I would have recognized my straying from my core beliefs and declined it, but would I have been strong enough? Has anyone else out there struggled with similar temptations to deny your "Prime Directive"?]]> Philosophy of Education 2011-02-10T14:56:11+00:00 Treasure the Fruits of Your Labor - No Matter How Small They May Seem http://democraticeducation.org/index.php/blog/article/treasure_the_fruits_of_your_labor_-_no_matter_how_small_they_may_seem/ http://democraticeducation.org/index.php/blog/article/treasure_the_fruits_of_your_labor_-_no_matter_how_small_they_may_seem/#When:13:40:18Z
Obviously, I stuck with the safe choice, staying in my job as a foundations of education professor. But each year, I still wonder if this is what I am "supposed" to be doing. I keep wondering this because it is so rare that I get the opportunity to see if there are any fruits to my labors. Chris Mercogliano, former co-director of the Albany Free School, once told me that being a teacher is, in many ways, like being a kid who blows a dandelion that has gone to seed. The seeds fly everywhere, get picked up by the wind and carried away. Some take root elsewhere and grow, others just float off to nowhere. As a college professor specializing in teaching just certain classes, I have intense contact with my students only during the 15 week semester that they are in either my undergraduate or graduate class. Other professors in my department have students for multiple classes and thus can see growth over time; I, however, am limited to this one set of contacts that happens in a given semester. This situation leaves me often wondering whether my class had any impacts whatsoever on their development as critical teachers. Did the seeds that I blew take root with anyone?

As I mentioned above, I consistently question whether I have made the right choice in remaining in my job. Some days when a lesson goes poorly, I despair. But then there are some bright moments when I get a chance to glimpse the fruits of my labors - these typically come from communications with former students. I treasure these emails and Facebook posts. While I am not so egotistical as to believe that I have massively changed anyone's life, these evidences of fruits warm me to the core and I like to look back at them whenever I am feeling blue, just as I like to look through photo albums of great times I have had in the past. I keep a file of emails in Outlook called "emails to keep" and here are some examples:

-on Facebook, a former student, N., recently posted to me: "Everyday at school, when I'm trying to be an agent of change, I think of you. Some days I'm a better agent than others. "

-an email from B.: "I hope that you know how much your Foundations of Education course has impacted me not only as a teacher, but as an individual with aspirations to impact the development of our society for the better. What you have taught me has opened my eyes to issues facing our schools today.... I have so many dreams built on what I have learned from you and I would love to have the opportunity to speak with you about all of my idealistic goals inspired by our conversations and the assigned readings from your class."

-an email from A.: "Dr. Morrison, I love your class, you should see my posts on face book! I have a lot of respect for you as an educator. You brought back hope in my eyes for this field. I enjoy so much being secluded in my office reading for Foundations of Ed. You are one of the professors that makes this Grad experience rich and valuable and every week I look forward to your class."

-an email from a different B.: "My outlook on education was very seriously altered by taking your foundations class. I no longer have any desire to complete a degree or work in a school with a traditional focus, not after knowing what else is out there! I have never been comfortable with traditional schooling, as a student or an employee, but I always thought the problem was with me. You taught me that the system is flawed, and that there are better alternatives out there! Sadly, there aren't any alternative schools [where I now live], so at this point I'm very seriously considering home-schooling my daughter. She's only 2, so I have some time to work that out. Whatever I end up doing, personally or professionally, I owe a lot to you. Thank you for an excellent class."

I do not intend for this post to be a case of me just sitting here and tooting my own horn by showing these quotes above; rather, my hope is that as each of you reflects on your year and your place in this life that you have found for yourselves, or will resolve to find for yourselves, a way to treasure the fruits of your own labors in working for a more just, equitable, democratic, compassionate and caring education system. I wish I could say that I am showered with these fruits on a daily basis; sadly, I am not. But by keeping a record of them and occasionally revisiting them, I can every now and then feel like I am wallowing in a cave filled with treasure, a la Daffy Duck in the episode called "Ali Babba Bunny."

Would love to see what ways others have found to reflect on their impact in this world. Please post a comment!]]> 2010-12-31T13:40:18+00:00 My Vision for a Transformed Education http://democraticeducation.org/index.php/blog/article/my_vision_for_a_transformed_education/ http://democraticeducation.org/index.php/blog/article/my_vision_for_a_transformed_education/#When:16:57:00Z National Day of Blogging for Real Education Reform and the question of "how should our country transform education to engage all learners?" This totally connected to a topic I have been discussing with my graduate foundations of education class. In this class, we have been reading a book by noted educational researcher Gene V. Glass entitled Fertilizers, Pills, and Magnetic Strips. In this book, Glass argues that the academic crisis we are supposedly experiencing in education is a manufactured one (see also Berliner and Biddle's The Manufactured Crisis) and that the solutions being offered and implemented are actually causing more problems. Specifically, "reforms" such as NCLB/Race to the Top, vouchers, charter schools, open enrollment, tuition tax credits and the like are causing re-intensified social class and race-based segregation in schools, a more narrow curricular focus, too much emphasis on product rather than process, cheating scandals, misuse of public fund for private gains, and so on. Glass' argument puts off many of my students who find him to be too hyper-critical of all these reforms. They ask, "What do Glass and others like him ultimately want?" and "At least someone is coming up with ideas like vouchers, NCLB, etc. Isn't trying out reforms like these at least a step in the right direction?"

My response, echoing Glass', is to pose another series of questions back at them, "Why [these] proposals [for reform] and not others? Who is proposing this reform? Who wins and who loses (money, prestige, status, freedom) if we go down this path?" (p. 146). I also add we have ample evidence of what changes are needed in education to help children learn and retain information and skills better - changes that are, in many ways, "no-brainers" in terms of understanding how they will lead to more engaged (and thus more "successful") learners. I then ask, why don't we implement these reforms? And why do we define a crisis in education as just being about how few pieces of information kids can spit out on a test and how we fare in international comparisons? I share that, in my opinion, it is the lack of engagement in learning, the apathy and the boredom for the life of the world and the mind that is the true crisis in education - but we have solutions for this crisis already! We just need to put them in place!

Below is my vision for transformed education. My students argue that all this is just so much pie-in-the-sky thinking, but I say that where there is a will, there's a way. Great accomplishments have been achieved in our society once we all gain a vision of what to go after - so why can't this apply to a transformed education as well?

There are research-proven ways to engage learners and thus lead to a more joyful and productive education. These include:

Increasing the adult/student ratio. Have smaller class sizes; have more aides, parents, and community members interacting with kids both inside school walls and in the community at large.

Having more hands on, real-life learning experiences available that actually accomplish somethings (e.g. solve community problems) and relate to kids' lived experiences. This includes field trips as well as questioning whether kids need to be in classrooms for 7+ hours a day. Why not more internships and involvement with community needs at younger ages?

Giving kids more autonomy. How will we ever help create curious, independent, life-long learners if kids are always being told what to do and how and when to do it?

Empowering teachers and other educational professionals to make decisions (curricular, governance, etc.). Why is it that those furthest from children (in terms of daily interaction) typically hold the most decision-making power in our educational system and those closest to the children typically hold the least?

Fixing social policies. We need to pass laws and policies that mitigate the worst effects of a highly unequal society. We need to provide services to those with the most needs - health care, meals, adult education services, parenting classes, etc. Helping families be safer, more secure, and better educated will help their children be more ready to actively engage in their education.

Attending to the whole child. Let's stop thinking that education is just about academics. Shouldn't we also be working to help kids be healthy eaters and exercisers, to be caring and compassionate citizens who know how to work with others to accomplish a goal, to be self-aware and equipped with skills that encourage emotional well-being, and to be creative and appreciative of the arts and literature?

All of these things CAN BE accomplished (and more!) and are being implemented in bits and pieces in various schools around the country. What we need is sustained focus and support (financial, ideological, etc.) for carrying out all these reforms that WE ALREADY KNOW work!!! ENOUGH with reforms that only help some kids and actually hurt others, and reforms that have us doing more of the same old, same old. Let's really think big and remake our education into something that truly is transformed!

**Dear readers, I feel like I am forgetting some other research-proven ways to heighten learner engagement. What can you add to my vision?]]> 2010-11-22T16:57:00+00:00 Why Am I Weird?  What Causes People to Reject Society’s Assumptions? http://democraticeducation.org/index.php/blog/article/why_am_i_weird_what_causes_people_to_reject_societys_assumptions/ http://democraticeducation.org/index.php/blog/article/why_am_i_weird_what_causes_people_to_reject_societys_assumptions/#When:20:55:34Z
This is a question that I have recently been asking myself as regards the societal belief in meritocracy. As I mentioned in last month's post, I have classes this semester in which we are engaging in exciting debates over the purposes of education and the practices that operationalize these purposes. I don't hide my personal criticisms of what I see going on in education today, nor do some of my students seem to be hiding their approval of what they see going on in schools. More specifically, I have a number of students who strongly articulate the view that schools are a locale where meritocracy does and SHOULD play out in our society. Meritocracy is the ideology of the American Dream. According this ideology, "America is the land of limitless opportunity in which individuals can go as far as their own merit takes them...you get out of the system what you put into it. Getting ahead is ostensibly based on individual merit, which is generally viewed as a combination of factors including ...working hard, having the right attitude, and having high moral character and integrity" (McNamee & Miller). This ideology assumes a level playing field amongst competitors in our hierarchical society and it tends to ignore structural inequalities (e.g. generational poverty, racism, classism, sexism, etc.).

In terms of meritocracy in schools, some of my students heartily argue that schools help us as a society weed out the wheat from the chaff - that those students who work hard and succeed in school deserve all their "prizes" (e.g. college entrance, scholarships, awards, etc.) and those who "choose" not to work hard and succeed deserve whatever is left over (if anything). This viewpoint is one that is taught throughout our culture. We are socialized to believe this "truth" through so many experiences in our lives.

Arguing against this viewpoint is particularly complex for me because, like the students who espouse this perspective, I was successful in school. All the way through my Masters degrees, I felt that what I had accomplished was SOLELY my doing; my success was attributable to my efforts and my abilities that I had developed. At no time did I have cause to question this seeming truth. I ate and drank this pap in every moment of my life up to that point. So when I hear some of my students arguing their support for meritocracy as truth and as desirable in schools, I hear echoes of my own former assertions in their words.

This then causes me to wonder what was it that has made me disbelieve this ideology after 27+ years of faithful adherence to it? What made me weird and caused me to reject this widely-believed societal assumption? And is there any way that my students can be helped to critically examine this belief if they haven't had the same experiences as me?

My "weirding" occured as a result of my first five years of teaching in the public schools. I found that all my hard work, talents, and efforts were not paying off in the same ways they always had prior to beginning my teaching career. I was finding that my diligent work was not resulting in student success across the board and this dismayed me for I had believed and experienced all my life that hard work always resulted in positive ends. Why wasn't it now? At first, I tried to write this off as the fault of my middle school students - they weren't trying hard enough or weren't smart enough to "get it." But then I started noticing that certain populations of kids were outperforming others - and these kids were the ones most like me when I was in K-12 grades - white, middle class, part of a functional, two-parent intact family where there was a stay-at-home mom, ample food, and decent living conditions. This realization (which I articulate in much more detail in the first couple of chapters of my book Free School Teaching) was shocking to my whole world view- it created a cognitive dissonance between things I had believed to be true and things I was seeing as true. Now, I want to be clear here; I am not saying that children of color or in poverty or part of single-parent households never succeeded in my classes or are incapable of succeeding; nor am I saying that working hard is NOT a factor at all in success in society. Both things are false. What I am saying is that there are loads of factors besides hard work that determine a person's level of success and that we all do not start out on equal footing - that there is no such a thing as everyone having an equal chance at success. Some people have more factors in their favor, some have more "strikes" against them.

But how do I get my college students (graduate and undergraduate) to see the above conclusion when most of their experiences up to this point have been convincing them otherwise and causing them to be blind to the factors that inhibit success for some and virtually guarantee success for others? Sure, I can talk about my experiences to explain how I became "weird," but will that really sink in to where they start to question society's assumptions? Or must they have their own "weirding"/cognitively dissonant experiences before this questioning can happen?

I have been using a tagline in my emails lately which says, "You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink. BUT, the horse can't drink if you don't take him to water." I use this to reaffirm to myself that I shouldn't be trying to convince students to come to my way of seeing the world; instead, I should mainly concern myself with exposing them to different viewpoints and perspectives. So, maybe I shouldn't worry if my students become weird like me. Maybe I should just be satisfied that I've shown them where the weird "water" is and when and if they ever get thirsty, then they know it's there to quench them.
]]> 2010-10-20T20:55:34+00:00 Should We Hide Our Viewpoints?  Developing Criticality in the Classroom http://democraticeducation.org/index.php/blog/article/should_we_hide_our_viewpoints_developing_criticality_in_the_classroom/ http://democraticeducation.org/index.php/blog/article/should_we_hide_our_viewpoints_developing_criticality_in_the_classroom/#When:18:07:29Z
I do not want my students to parrot my opinions (hooks, Teaching to Transgress), and yet I don't think I can ever be one of those teachers who leaves students guessing as to her opinions and beliefs. Is it possible for a teacher in a conventional setting, with all the authoritarian baggage that involves (such as students' institutional histories of working to please the teacher), to be fairly clear and sure of her opinions on contentious issues, yet at the same time create an open and inviting space where multiple and conflicting viewpoints can be equally valued? And should all perspectives on an issue be equally valued, or does that take us too far into moral relativism/nihilism?

As to the first question, I do think that I can create an environment in which I, a person who has spent time deeply examining certain issues and has come to some relatively sure conclusions, can still lead a group of novices (for lack of a better word) to respectfully explore the intricacies and dualities of those issues. But I have to do it with a lot of consciousness and diligence because, as stated earlier, being completely even-handed does not come naturally to me! So, this year, one of my goals for improving my teaching is to really focus on carefully reviewing my learning resources and pedagogical approaches. I am working on presenting texts from varied viewpoints, showing film clips depicting opposing stances, etc. I have also been developing activities that elicit students' critical opinions and questions. For example, I have created a new assignment called “discussion leadership” in which I ask students to essentially be author critics who really make a point of picking apart the readings we have done for a given day. I have set up mock debates or pairing activities where I assign one viewpoint to a partner and the opposite to the other partner and ask them to hash it out. When leading discussions, I am trying to more often pose the question of “what do you think?” before making any proclamations of my own.

In all this, though, I do worry about my second question- is every viewpoint worthy of equal respect? What if I have an openly racist, sexist, or classist bigot in my class? Sure, such students have a Constitutional right to speak their minds, but don't I also have a responsibility as a teacher of future educators to show that such viewpoints violate the democratic principles and ideals upon which our country and Constitution are based? But how do I do that without shutting down the open environment I'm trying so hard to nurture?

Any thoughts out there on this? I welcome an exchange on this contentious issue! (How fitting!)]]> 2010-09-15T18:07:29+00:00