COMMON Ground

Common Ground. We need to get back to that mentality. Or maybe, we need to find it. Perhaps the ideas that were instilled in me about how to live a rewarding life only existed in the hopes and dreams of the adults surrounding me in my youth.
You remember the lessons, right?
• Turn the other cheek.
• Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.
• Give back tenfold what you've been given.
• Be there for others.
• And the ultimate All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten, by Robert Fulgum.


We should all reconnect with these simple life guidelines and stop trying to beat each other down. Specifically, I'm upset with the the fact that the gulf between rich and poor is increasing. And I'm sad that there is a notion that certain groups of people are not sacrificing as much as they "should" be during these belt-tightening times.

Police officers, firefighters, nurses, teachers, etc. These are people who chose a profession that by their very nature requires sacrifice. But they chose it anyway. And not only are they being accused of not sacrificing enough, they're being made to feel that they are the cause of many states' financial crises. It's insulting and hurtful. And it's simply not true.

My husband and I are both teachers. We have never complained about our salaries. We feel well-compensated in our respective districts. But I do not believe we are overly compensated for the work that we do. Not by any stretch of the imagination. (We believe educators in less fortunate districts are tragically under-compensated.) Our salaries, which are so publicly displayed on the internet, include the cost of our benefits and pensions. And we won't get social security. Ever. We both have advanced degrees, which we paid for. Together, we have worked 14-20 hour days for a total of 39 years.

I am all for "everyone pitching in" during economic decline. We have felt the effects. My daughter's school district cut dozens of teachers. Multiple academic, athletic and fine arts programs have been lost. And class sizes are huge. My husband and I know what it's like to live paycheck to paycheck these days. We, too, are paying more for gas, energy, food, etc. We are taking a HUGE hit on the sale of our home. And our taxes went up this year.

When I walk into my school, the only thing on my mind is, "How can I make a positive impact on those I cross paths with today? What can I give?" And I believe that this is true for the vast majority of educators I work with. We are all working together to determine what is in the best interest of the children we serve.

If collective bargaining is lost, there will be a tragic mental shift that takes place in our schools. Teachers will be required to think about themselves first and students second. Teachers will need to compete, rather than collaborate, with each other. Teachers will be spending time thinking about how they can serve the master, rather than serve the students. Students will be required to produce even more than they are already. (And a similar negative shift will occur in these other lines of work.)

The worst part about this is that removing collective bargaining rights won't fix the financial crisis that exists. It is a power move, plain and simple. And one that will ultimately hurt all of us. Not just public employees.

Many hard-working public and private sector workers need help right now. As do our children. Let's think of the common ground that unites us. Let's be more creative and work together on a realistic solution to the economic crisis we're experiencing, rather than going after each other.

My New Love—Fiction and Huck Finn

I reckon you're eager to read what I have to say, so be patient. Don't be wanderin' away from my post too early. Instead, take a gander at what I'm telling you. Been spendin' most of my wakin' hours readin' and writin' these days. It's fetchin' me some long nights cuz I do n't know how to stop. My thoughts are spinnin' somethin' fierce from all the new ideas fillin' my head, even more than Tom coulda made happen in one of 'em crazy adventures. And I do n't knowed which direction to fix my eyes on, cuz I been achin' to learn me truths for a spell. I like readin' books that shows truths, truths about schools and teachers and life and such and I been readin' up a storm. But then I says to myself, "Why not stick yer head in one of them story-type books that tells tales of kids an kings an murders an Tom-Sawyer-type adventures an such an let yer head enjoy you some make-believe? Life's too stinkin' short to miss out on the make-believe. That's what Pap always said, anyways. And even tho I do n't wanna admit it, well, let's just' say, he wa rn't wrong. Made up stuff is exciting."

After reading a half dozen nonfiction books over the past couple months, I decided to baptize myself into the world of fiction once again. Can you guess which book I started with? From my feeble attempt at "becoming" Huck? Yes, I picked up a book I read in high school over 25 years ago, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. I will not tell a lie; I hated this book in high school. Hated it. Why? Because it was assigned. It was required. It was work. It was boring.

But how? How could I have ever found this boring? Granted, I'm only 35% through the book (I know that thanks to my Kindle!). But I have laughed out loud on numerous occasions. 

"[Miss Watson] was going to live so as to go to the good place...Well, I couldn't see no advantage in going where she was going, so I made up my mind I wouldn't try for it...I asked her if she reckoned Tom Sawyer would go there, and she said not by a considerable sight. I was glad about that, because I wanted him and me to be together."

Perhaps it's my upbringing, but I thought this conversation was hilarious! I can just picture my head making those same types of connections as a child. How I used to make sense of my world so quickly, yet so creatively.

Huck (Twain) shares story after story from the child's perspective. And I find it fascinating how advanced this perspective is. Huck allows his mind to wander, unencumbered, so as to really explore his surroundings, his life. And the way he describes each experience allows you to be there, feeling his child-like excitement, panic, mischievousness, relief, guilt, love.

This level of "critical thinking" is what we hope to achieve as adults. Not in this immature way. But in this truly-connected-to-people kind of way. This stream-of-conscienceness allows one to gather unprescripted data, to make original connections or creative exaggerations, to recognize that an experience is what it is because of the people around you, to be so engaged that passion can't help but boil over.

I'm glad I picked up this book again. It's helped me remember what I loved so much about the explorations of my childhood. And it reminded me how much I am ready, willing and able to rekindle that level of curiosity and courage to live with the open-mindedness and passion of a child again.

Syrup, Post-Its, & Nicknames. Why Can't Good Teaching Be As Sticky?

"It's in EVERY research book you read. It's talked about at every educational and professional development conference you attend. It's the focus of every methods book. Inquiry-based teaching is it. Inquiry. Inquiry. Inquiry. But you don't see it implemented in the classroom, and if you do, it's not done well. Inquiry—it just isn't sticking."

Yesterday morning, I finished Malcolm Gladwell's Tipping Point. (Recommended!) Yesterday afternoon, a university education professor said the above to me. I was taken aback. Anyone who has read Tipping Point likely knows why. I felt like one of those cartoon characters where a lightbulb starts flashing above your head!

Gladwell states that the three agents of change include the Law of the Few, the Power of Context, and the Stickiness Factor—the third agent being the cause for the lightbulb. The following Gladwell quote echoed in my head.

"The Stickiness Factor means that there are specific ways of making a contagious message memorable; there are relatively simple changes in the presentation and structuring of information that can make a big difference in how much of an impact it makes."

My friend (and co-author) Dennis Smithenry and I are incredibly passionate about the benefits of Whole Class Inquiry. So when the professor said, "Inquiry—it just isn't sticking," I got to thinking about how we might be able to change that. How do we make our idea  "tip?" (Font choice in picture at right in honor of my husband.)

It was what the professor said next that really helped. "So many teachers believe that inquiry is a good idea; they just don't know how to make it happen. But being here, seeing it in action, talking to you, listening to the students, now the message makes sense. The theory of inquiry is alive in that room. "

Gladwell believes that some ideas are worthy, but have not been worded in a manner where the majority of the potential users can understand, let alone implement. The key to getting our message to tip? We need to redefine Whole Class Inquiry using the vocabulary and practice of these experimental, dedicated educators. We can't use Whole Class Inquiry to describe Whole Class Inquiry. We need to simplify a complex idea into presently used language. But how?

I'm working on it. And if I can't figure it out, there's always Krazy Glue...


http://www.corbisimages.com/Enlargement/42-22632618.html

"I'd Rather Be a Wolf Than a Tiger" Follow-Up

The fall-out from Amy Chua's book is a bit over-the-top. There's a combination of genius (perhaps on Chua's agent's part?) and insanity (public reaction?) threaded through this whole conversation. I admit I've been pulled in, but more as an educator than a mother. And today I read a column in the New York Times by David Brooks that made me smile. The title, Amy Chua is a Wimp, certainly caught my attention, but it wasn't the only thing that made me chuckle. In fact it was the intriguing twist he took in comparison to the other, more angry reviews. Here are my favorite quotes from the article. Remember that Brooks is making these statements to a Yale professor and "Chinese mother."


1. "I believe she’s coddling her children." (Whoa! Bet she's never heard that before!)
2. "I just wish [Chua] wasn’t so soft and indulgent." (Or this!)
3. "[Chua] doesn’t understand what’s cognitively difficult and what isn’t." (Not what a Yale professor usually hears, I'll bet.)
4. "[Practicing music for four hours]...is nowhere near as cognitively demanding as a sleepover with fourteen-year-old girls." (Oh, don't I know it! No truer words have ever been spoken.)
5. "Managing status rivalries, negotiating group dynamics, understanding social norms, navigating the distinction between self and group — these and other social tests impose cognitive demands that blow away any intense tutoring session or a class at Yale." (I've never been to Yale, but I do know that these scenarios were far more challenging than the science courses I took at U of I!)
6. "Chua would do better to see the classroom as a cognitive break from the truly arduous tests of childhood." Wow! It would be important for educators to notice this, too.
7. "I wish [Chua] recognized that in some important ways the school cafeteria is more intellectually demanding than the library." (I remember this challenge very clearly. NOT fun!)

On a more serious note, it is these types of statements—along with others from his article—that support the notion that educators should be focused on the whole child. Our curriculum can help with these social challenges, as well as become a bit more relevant to the type of collaborative, connected, process-oriented lives our children lead.