In tribute to my good friend Dick Farrell, columnist for The Bargain Hunter and retired editor of The Times-Reporter, I am attempting to emulate his writing style where he offers insight on a few topics each week, a style I thoroughly enjoy reading.
*I am confused by the constantly varying numbers reflecting unemployment throughout our country--one report indicates that the numbers are up, another that they are declining. Yet other reports state that the economy is rebounding, but conflicting views differ on that as well. Given this confusion, I have a question: How much of the unemployment statistics are reflective of those who have failed drug tests or have been let go because of a problem with attendance? Just the other day as I sat at the traffic light in downtown New Philadelphia, the local Mancan hiring agency had five job openings plastered on their windows, positions they evidently were having a hard time filling. When I pick up The Times-Reporter, The Bargain Hunter, and The Canton Repository, I daily see job openings available. While I understand that a select population exists that is not qualified for or interested in certain positions, I cannot help but believe that jobs are out there if someone is willing to work. I have talked to several friends in hiring positions expressing that they, too, are frustrated by an ever-increasing workforce pool that really does not want to work. An investigative look at those percentages would provide an enlightening perspective. Until then, I will remain skeptical about feeling great sympathy for those unable to find work.
*As indicated in a recent article in The Times-Reporter, the debate over improving the quality of Dover High School is still an issue. Without duplicating the divide, I would like to share my story. Twenty-two years ago I was hired at Dover; until that time, I had taught in two other local districts. Within a year of my hiring, I began to experience headaches, constant noserunning, sneezing, . . . you get the picture. At the advice of my family physician, I visited an ear/nose/throat specialist who determined after giving me the sample testing that I was allergic to dogs, cats, grass, trees, . . . pretty much a whole slew of allergies. I questioned that diagnosis because I was mowing five lawns, had frequently been outside on a regular basis, had pets, and had never been allergic to anything in my life. Nonetheless, I ultimately accepted his diagnosis and thus began weekly shots that lasted for several years and shifts between Claritin and other allergy aids that really did not work overly well. Sparing additional details, I can safely say that my situation showed little if any improvement. However, when I retired in June 2013, my problems disappeared. Every fall and spring prior to my retirement, I had faced the same issues. But, Fall 2013, Spring 2014, and Fall 2014 brought different results: My supposed "allergies" were gone! The only difference in my life was that I was no longer in Dover High School. I suppose one could argue that it was merely coincidence, which I believed the first fall I was out, but after now having gone through three seasons, I can confidently state that the air quality in that building was a significant contributor to my problems. No, I cannot prove it, but if my anecdotal evidence is sufficient, I will calmly attest that the air quality in that building is causing problems for more people than just me. Again, it would be interesting to hear if anyone else has had a similar experience. As I wrote this paragraph, I wondered if anybody was thinking he's just a sissy who's complaining about his runny nose . . . whatever . . . I stand by my experience.
*As I teach my college classes, I find it necessary to work with kids on their understanding of how grammar can tie-in with their writing. Reading paper after paper and sentence after sentence that follows the same repetitive pattern can be somewhat monotonous for any reader; thus, the challenge becomes trying to get students to understand how they can control the language through use of sentence variety. I can teach them those specifics, but I contend that if students would read quality writing such as that found in Sports Illustrated or Time, for example, they would see what effective writing actually looks like.
*For parents who are interested in helping their kids prepare for college writing, allow me to offer two key points: (1) Learn how to understand arguments and how to argue effectively--this can be accomplished in many ways but one is to read the columns of syndicated writers such as Cal Thomas, Gene Lyons, Kathleen Parker, and many others whose works are found in our local paper. It is not important that the readers agree with the writers; what is important is to see how those writers have structured and supported their arguments; that is what college freshman writing is all about: understanding arguments. (2) As alluded to previously, learn to control the language. All those grammar/usage classes taken throughout students' education are important. As the old Midas Muffler commercials used to say, "Pay me now, or pay me later." Later is when students get to college and have to prove that they belong at the college level. When kids receive low scores or do not return to school, one of the causes is that they simply cannot handle the expectation of writing well . . . something to think about, Mom and Dad.
Ok, Mr. Farrell, that completes my version of your favorite style. While it pales in comparison, take it as a compliment--your writing style has been welcomed by many, in particular this boy.
Monday, January 19, 2015
Friday, January 9, 2015
Views from the Hot Seat...: If There Is No Change, There Is No Change . . .
Views from the Hot Seat...: If There Is No Change, There Is No Change . . .: For months, I have sat on the sidelines and heard the Common Core debate, shaking my head in amazement and bewilderment about what has gradu...
Thursday, January 8, 2015
If There Is No Change, There Is No Change . . .
For months, I have sat on the sidelines and heard the Common Core debate, shaking my head in amazement and bewilderment about what has gradually evolved into a political issue. From my seat, I have heard and read others persistently saying that "Obama did this" and "it's just another example of politicians ruining things." To understand my confusion, please read as I offer an insight that few others can share.
Let me begin by stating this point: For years, I have listened while others have criticized today's education, students, and teachers. What I have heard is that kids do not know much, that they cannot do much math, and that their writing skills are terrible. In short, frequently, I hear how education is bad today and the reasons usually are pointed in the teachers' direction. So, attempting to use a bit of logical reasoning, if employers and other adults are saying the current educational system does not work, perhaps we should advocate for a change. Given that logic, readers might agree that establishing a common set of basic standards that all kids are to be taught may be a beginning point for improving students' learning: a "common core."
Another overlooked point is this: What has been taught across the country certainly has varied from state to state, district to district, school to school, and even building to building. As a result, in my high school teaching years, it was not unusual for kids to transfer in from other school districts (perhaps due to parental moves, open enrollment, or expulsion from other schools) who even though they had been enrolled in similar classes were considerably behind (or occasionally ahead of) what we were doing not only in my class but in various ones across the curriculum. In short, no commonality existed. Today's Common Core standards in English and math are an attempt to address that.
To further solidify my claim, I must also share a vital piece of information. Approximately six years ago, I was invited to attend a meeting (along with approximately twenty other English teachers from throughout the state) that was held at the Ohio School of the Deaf in Columbus. The meeting's purpose was to begin discussing the establishment of a "common" set of standards to improve our students' learning. At that meeting, we were clearly informed that this was a directive of the Ohio Department of Education (the department that was conducting this particular meeting) and that it was not a political issue. I paid attention during that meeting, so trust me when I say that the issues discussed had nothing to do with outside political influence. Thus, when I read of various legislators attempting to convince Ohio citizens that this is political onslaught, when I read the literature of opponents (who amusingly had a misspelled word in their literature that they distributed!), and when I read letters to the editor or blogs that criticize the core, I realize how powerful the loudest voice in the room can be. Again, I repeat: I was at the first meeting regarding the core--it had nothing to do with political agendas. It was and continues to be an attempt to improve education!
Without a doubt, a few readers may stop reading right this instant and say something negative about me, the writer, because they do not agree with me. Ok, I get that, but let's again talk about logic, not emotion. Many who complain about education today, I am afraid, are under the fantasy belief that they were great students taught by great teachers so they received great educations. I am not directing any disrespect toward the teaching, but I am pointing out that perhaps we all were not all as effective students as we like to remember ourselves being, a point I have addressed in other blog entries. We have all heard the oft-repeated cry of "it's a changing world" to the point where we tire of hearing it. Additionally, many will say that "we ought to go back to when schools taught only the basics." My friends, somewhere in there the basics have been misguided, for what reasons I can only speculate. Again, my point: The Common Core is an attempt to equalize education for students in English and math--what is the problem with addressing a weakness? If math and English are not currently considered weaknesses for graduates, then why do complaints from employers and other adults continue? Should we address the issue, or should we bury our heads and act like we should continue doing what we "have always done"? Again, please consider my logic--throw the emotion out the door and think about solutions . . . anybody can complain, but what is the best way to improve our kids' learning? Any legitimate suggestions jump to your minds?
I entitled this entry "If there is no change, there is no change" as a thought-provoker. I could tell you that I created those words from the top of my head, but I confess to stealing them from a poem I read long ago, one with simple words and striking power. The "core" reflects this logic: like practically everything (including the Browns, Cavs, and Indians), we all want improvement--education is in the same boat. If we are going to continue progressing as a society, we need to identify problem areas, assess them, and provide solutions. Of course, not everyone is going to agree with the solutions-- human nature at its finest--but, at the least, solutions are being advanced. Simply retreating to the "way we used to do them" is not a feasible option in most situations. In this case, I do not see retreating as productive. I do believe in the Common Core because I understand its roots. Obviously, change is not easy and usually it is not immediately productive, but in the long term change is sorely needed. My hope is that in addition to softening the emotion, we allow the new standards to become implemented, to be taught, to be allowed to prosper. I have to believe we are intelligent enough to understand that logic.
Let me begin by stating this point: For years, I have listened while others have criticized today's education, students, and teachers. What I have heard is that kids do not know much, that they cannot do much math, and that their writing skills are terrible. In short, frequently, I hear how education is bad today and the reasons usually are pointed in the teachers' direction. So, attempting to use a bit of logical reasoning, if employers and other adults are saying the current educational system does not work, perhaps we should advocate for a change. Given that logic, readers might agree that establishing a common set of basic standards that all kids are to be taught may be a beginning point for improving students' learning: a "common core."
Another overlooked point is this: What has been taught across the country certainly has varied from state to state, district to district, school to school, and even building to building. As a result, in my high school teaching years, it was not unusual for kids to transfer in from other school districts (perhaps due to parental moves, open enrollment, or expulsion from other schools) who even though they had been enrolled in similar classes were considerably behind (or occasionally ahead of) what we were doing not only in my class but in various ones across the curriculum. In short, no commonality existed. Today's Common Core standards in English and math are an attempt to address that.
To further solidify my claim, I must also share a vital piece of information. Approximately six years ago, I was invited to attend a meeting (along with approximately twenty other English teachers from throughout the state) that was held at the Ohio School of the Deaf in Columbus. The meeting's purpose was to begin discussing the establishment of a "common" set of standards to improve our students' learning. At that meeting, we were clearly informed that this was a directive of the Ohio Department of Education (the department that was conducting this particular meeting) and that it was not a political issue. I paid attention during that meeting, so trust me when I say that the issues discussed had nothing to do with outside political influence. Thus, when I read of various legislators attempting to convince Ohio citizens that this is political onslaught, when I read the literature of opponents (who amusingly had a misspelled word in their literature that they distributed!), and when I read letters to the editor or blogs that criticize the core, I realize how powerful the loudest voice in the room can be. Again, I repeat: I was at the first meeting regarding the core--it had nothing to do with political agendas. It was and continues to be an attempt to improve education!
Without a doubt, a few readers may stop reading right this instant and say something negative about me, the writer, because they do not agree with me. Ok, I get that, but let's again talk about logic, not emotion. Many who complain about education today, I am afraid, are under the fantasy belief that they were great students taught by great teachers so they received great educations. I am not directing any disrespect toward the teaching, but I am pointing out that perhaps we all were not all as effective students as we like to remember ourselves being, a point I have addressed in other blog entries. We have all heard the oft-repeated cry of "it's a changing world" to the point where we tire of hearing it. Additionally, many will say that "we ought to go back to when schools taught only the basics." My friends, somewhere in there the basics have been misguided, for what reasons I can only speculate. Again, my point: The Common Core is an attempt to equalize education for students in English and math--what is the problem with addressing a weakness? If math and English are not currently considered weaknesses for graduates, then why do complaints from employers and other adults continue? Should we address the issue, or should we bury our heads and act like we should continue doing what we "have always done"? Again, please consider my logic--throw the emotion out the door and think about solutions . . . anybody can complain, but what is the best way to improve our kids' learning? Any legitimate suggestions jump to your minds?
I entitled this entry "If there is no change, there is no change" as a thought-provoker. I could tell you that I created those words from the top of my head, but I confess to stealing them from a poem I read long ago, one with simple words and striking power. The "core" reflects this logic: like practically everything (including the Browns, Cavs, and Indians), we all want improvement--education is in the same boat. If we are going to continue progressing as a society, we need to identify problem areas, assess them, and provide solutions. Of course, not everyone is going to agree with the solutions-- human nature at its finest--but, at the least, solutions are being advanced. Simply retreating to the "way we used to do them" is not a feasible option in most situations. In this case, I do not see retreating as productive. I do believe in the Common Core because I understand its roots. Obviously, change is not easy and usually it is not immediately productive, but in the long term change is sorely needed. My hope is that in addition to softening the emotion, we allow the new standards to become implemented, to be taught, to be allowed to prosper. I have to believe we are intelligent enough to understand that logic.
Monday, December 29, 2014
"It Took Me about 15 Years, but . . ."
At 22, I officially became a paid teacher--thought I had the formula for making kids learn. At 22, I was confronted with my first English class--little did I know that several of those students could barely read and write coherent sentences as high school juniors. At 22, I began my journey into education--lessons began being taught, oftentimes the hard way.
Today I look on those early years with a smile; I had the great fortune to be "taken under the wings" of many peers who cemented my foundation by teaching me to have fun, to be a professional, and to retain my sense of humor. Much to their credit, I was free to share my experiences--enriching and humbling--without the feeling of being unfairly judged. Those teachers at Newcomerstown High School shaped me, and, to this day, I am certainly grateful for their unofficial mentoring. They "adopted" me because they cared about me, their students, and, most importantly, their profession--they evidently saw me as a link to the future, one who could carry on what they were fostering in me. About fifteen years after my start, I began to understand that point.
After five years, I moved to Strasburg High School where my development continued. There, I was so fortunate to work with peers who were "hungry," who were aspiring to greater heights, who wanted to be successful, and who were willing to "pay the price" to achieve. In short, I was part of a staff that truly had a genuine respect for one another and a collegiality second to none. We liked each other, we laughed together, and we succeeded in excelling at a high level. Our administration was outstanding--no secrets were held. Our principal and superintendent kept us informed, and when we needed corrected or reigned in, it was done face to face with no hidden agendas--trust was the glue. In time, though, many of us aspired for new challenges--I was one of those. Before leaving for my next spot at Dover High School, though, I knew I was departing a special place--that is why even today I laugh when people ridicule small schools. Yes, disadvantages are present, but the intimate atmosphere of small class sizes allowed so much quality teaching. My teaching span at Strasburg was ten years, years I cherish even today. Fifteen years after my start, I began to understand this teaching game.
My superintendent at Strasburg had often told me that "you never really grow in your profession until you're in your third job." Truthfully, I never caught the true message of that logic . . . until I began my third job. From there I began to grow in so many ways: I had experience, I had confidence, I had an understanding of how kids learned, and I had established my own comfort zone for how I wanted to teach. Fifteen years it had taken me to get past my sometimes overzealous approach to teaching and learning, my occasional too-quick-to-draw-conclusions mentality, and my periodic mentality of teaching material instead of kids. After fifteen years, I began to get the picture.
What I learned is that if I were going to be effective I had to demonstrate a command of my material; yes, I know that is so obvious, but if I wanted kids to become quality writers I had to do more than say, "You need to proofread better . . . to read more frequently . . . to learn your grammar . . . to practice your skills." My challenge became how do I do that? Oh, I read a bunch, but, in truth, none of the strategies seemed to fit my personality. Thus, my challenge became to find my own way, adapt teaching methods that most kids could relate to, yet still allow my personality to shine through. You see, I could not have done that early in my career simply because I was not that comfortable with me. To state it bluntly, I had to fail before I could succeed. When I finally had hit that sweet spot, my love of teaching truly blossomed.
I make no secrets of the fact that I loved teaching high school. The daily interaction with kids who have their adult lives before them certainly was challenging but, boy, was it rewarding. Part of teaching is pushing students to achieve, oftentimes in ways they do not want perhaps because they do not see the long-term benefits. However, a larger part of teaching is developing relationships with kids; I made a point of telling them that when they were my students we were not friends--friendly, yes, but not friends. When they graduated, we could become friends, but that gap always had to be present when they were students. Nonetheless, watching kids smile and interact, watching their personalities unfold, and watching their drive and determination surface were the rewards I received. So many students, of course, have been misguided by the environments they were raised or the friends they acquired, but occasionally I would see a few of those kids escape their trappings. Again, the rewards of teaching cannot be measured like a business's success--teaching's rewards are in human accomplishment, sometimes small and insignificant to an outsider but to teachers who know their kids those rewards are what we seek.
It took me about fifteen years, but for the next twenty years that I was fortunate enough to teach, I grew as a teacher. From watching intelligent and unique peers to discovering more about myself, I found my niche. Dover High School allowed me to practice my craft in an environment where excellence was expected, where standards were high, and where a professional environment was nurtured. When I retired after thirty-five years in education, I knew my high school journey was complete. Finishing my third job, I understood what Al Osler (Strasburg superintendent when I was there) had told me--I had become what I had hoped for . . . and I had an abundance of influence from peers who had shaped me. To conclude in a rather blunt way, my message can be interpreted in this way and is specifically designed for young teachers: Pay your dues, and learn!
Today I look on those early years with a smile; I had the great fortune to be "taken under the wings" of many peers who cemented my foundation by teaching me to have fun, to be a professional, and to retain my sense of humor. Much to their credit, I was free to share my experiences--enriching and humbling--without the feeling of being unfairly judged. Those teachers at Newcomerstown High School shaped me, and, to this day, I am certainly grateful for their unofficial mentoring. They "adopted" me because they cared about me, their students, and, most importantly, their profession--they evidently saw me as a link to the future, one who could carry on what they were fostering in me. About fifteen years after my start, I began to understand that point.
After five years, I moved to Strasburg High School where my development continued. There, I was so fortunate to work with peers who were "hungry," who were aspiring to greater heights, who wanted to be successful, and who were willing to "pay the price" to achieve. In short, I was part of a staff that truly had a genuine respect for one another and a collegiality second to none. We liked each other, we laughed together, and we succeeded in excelling at a high level. Our administration was outstanding--no secrets were held. Our principal and superintendent kept us informed, and when we needed corrected or reigned in, it was done face to face with no hidden agendas--trust was the glue. In time, though, many of us aspired for new challenges--I was one of those. Before leaving for my next spot at Dover High School, though, I knew I was departing a special place--that is why even today I laugh when people ridicule small schools. Yes, disadvantages are present, but the intimate atmosphere of small class sizes allowed so much quality teaching. My teaching span at Strasburg was ten years, years I cherish even today. Fifteen years after my start, I began to understand this teaching game.
My superintendent at Strasburg had often told me that "you never really grow in your profession until you're in your third job." Truthfully, I never caught the true message of that logic . . . until I began my third job. From there I began to grow in so many ways: I had experience, I had confidence, I had an understanding of how kids learned, and I had established my own comfort zone for how I wanted to teach. Fifteen years it had taken me to get past my sometimes overzealous approach to teaching and learning, my occasional too-quick-to-draw-conclusions mentality, and my periodic mentality of teaching material instead of kids. After fifteen years, I began to get the picture.
What I learned is that if I were going to be effective I had to demonstrate a command of my material; yes, I know that is so obvious, but if I wanted kids to become quality writers I had to do more than say, "You need to proofread better . . . to read more frequently . . . to learn your grammar . . . to practice your skills." My challenge became how do I do that? Oh, I read a bunch, but, in truth, none of the strategies seemed to fit my personality. Thus, my challenge became to find my own way, adapt teaching methods that most kids could relate to, yet still allow my personality to shine through. You see, I could not have done that early in my career simply because I was not that comfortable with me. To state it bluntly, I had to fail before I could succeed. When I finally had hit that sweet spot, my love of teaching truly blossomed.
I make no secrets of the fact that I loved teaching high school. The daily interaction with kids who have their adult lives before them certainly was challenging but, boy, was it rewarding. Part of teaching is pushing students to achieve, oftentimes in ways they do not want perhaps because they do not see the long-term benefits. However, a larger part of teaching is developing relationships with kids; I made a point of telling them that when they were my students we were not friends--friendly, yes, but not friends. When they graduated, we could become friends, but that gap always had to be present when they were students. Nonetheless, watching kids smile and interact, watching their personalities unfold, and watching their drive and determination surface were the rewards I received. So many students, of course, have been misguided by the environments they were raised or the friends they acquired, but occasionally I would see a few of those kids escape their trappings. Again, the rewards of teaching cannot be measured like a business's success--teaching's rewards are in human accomplishment, sometimes small and insignificant to an outsider but to teachers who know their kids those rewards are what we seek.
It took me about fifteen years, but for the next twenty years that I was fortunate enough to teach, I grew as a teacher. From watching intelligent and unique peers to discovering more about myself, I found my niche. Dover High School allowed me to practice my craft in an environment where excellence was expected, where standards were high, and where a professional environment was nurtured. When I retired after thirty-five years in education, I knew my high school journey was complete. Finishing my third job, I understood what Al Osler (Strasburg superintendent when I was there) had told me--I had become what I had hoped for . . . and I had an abundance of influence from peers who had shaped me. To conclude in a rather blunt way, my message can be interpreted in this way and is specifically designed for young teachers: Pay your dues, and learn!
Wednesday, December 17, 2014
Perception Is Reality . . . Isn't It?
Are educators perceived as professionals?
I would think if any teacher/administrator were asked that question, the response would be an overwhelming "YES!" I would expect nothing to the contrary. However, if the taxpaying public were asked that same question, I suspect the majority would disagree for a variety of reasons . . . and that is where the disconnect occurs.
To begin this discussion, I must first explain a few key points:
*As my readers know, I am a retired public school teacher; as a result, my occasional bias toward the profession is genuine;
*Many of my friends and acquaintances outside the school building are not educators; thus, their views often conflict with mine.
*As a result of my interactions with both educators and non-educators, I can clearly see that how we (as educators) often view ourselves is not how everyone does . . . and that is why I am exploring this topic.
Writing on this sensitive matter is akin to walking through a field of landmines . . . moving gently forward but knowing possible danger lies ahead. Let me explore a few timeworn comments I have heard from others:
*You (educators) get three months off in the summer;
*You get holiday vacations;
*You get snow days;
*You get . . . fill in the blank.
I find myself cringing as I write those words, but these are the standard criticisms leveled toward teachers. While I find myself shaking my head at the aforementioned remarks, I do understand them because the majority of our working world do not always share those work perks . . . they get perks (time and a half, double time, . . .), but certainly not the same ones as educators. I get that, but, obviously, more details remain to be explored. Although many may attack the so-called easy life that teachers are perceived as living, that has little to do with my focus in this writing. I am not saying teachers are this and teachers are that and we should show more appreciation toward them; instead, I want to head in a slightly different direction.
The word professional has strong implications; doctors, nurses, and lawyers come to mind when I categorize how most people view professionals because their career choices require exit exams, ongoing education, personal interaction with the public, and, most frequently, confidentiality. Teachers--like doctors, nurses, and lawyers--must meet the same qualifications listed above. At one time long ago, teachers were highly regarded as professionals . . . but did something happen to alter that? I contend that--in the public's eyes--the answer is yes; in many ways, we as educators have contributed to our own perception. Being so bold to say that, I must explain my logic:
*Personal Appearance--I admit to being old school with various quirks as a result, but I am a firm believer in the adage of dressing for success. As a young teacher at Strasburg High School many years ago, I clearly remember my superintendent, Al Osler, gently reminding me that if I wanted to be treated as a professional then I had better dress as one. Watching my administrators wear suits/sport coats and ties every day was impressive; likewise, watching my male peers wear shirts and ties made an impact. I am not so naïve, however, as to think that just because a man wears a tie that he is automatically a quality teacher--I get that, and I also do not mean to imply that certain jobs within a school should require a tie (physical education, art, and industrial technology come to mind). What I am saying is that when we do not dress professionally, it merely provides the public with more ammunition to say we aren't professional because we look just like anyone else. I must stress that public schools rely on the support of communities, and those taxpayers are frequently quick to judge us in a negative light, deserved or not. When I wear a golf shirt to school, I am not so sure that I am sending the signal that I am a professional educator. (Many schools have "dress down days" where employees pay a fee toward a specific charity--I am not talking about those occasional times.) My financial advisors--bankers and investors--wear suits every time I meet with them; my doctor wears a shirt and tie under his lab coat; when I have consulted with an attorney, he is wearing a suit. My point should be obvious: If I want to be perceived as a professional, like the aforementioned, I need to at least look the role. My hunch--with no true facts to support it--is that if the perception is genuine, it will go a long way in influencing my standing within the community as well as with my students. One other point before I move on: Female educators who dress sharply ooze with professionalism; knowing that they take considerable pride in how they are perceived--just as with males--plays such an important role in how others view them.
*Public Comments--Human nature seems to indicate that we like to talk; I could probably go out on the proverbial limb and say we like to be heard. How often have we been in a conversation when the other person is already talking before we are done making our point? (Score that as one of my major weaknesses, as my wife tells me repeatedly to shut up and let her finish talking!) As educators, we frequently overstep our boundaries by making public comments that expose us to criticism (been there done that, by the way). Our often openly-stated wishes for snow days, for example, immediately send a negative signal to non-educators because they don't live in the same little world we do. Snow days in their work world are practically nonexistent and require them to find babysitters, to alter their everyday lives . . . ; to teachers, it mostly means a day off (even though we may be grading or preparing how to consolidate our lessons into fewer days) . . . non-teachers don't want to hear about our wishes. Additionally, we are occasionally guilty of sharing a bit too much information; while I attest that this is not peculiar to just the teaching profession, we certainly learn that parents do not want their kids' issues being discussed too openly. With the responsibility of teaching comes the responsibility of oftentimes keeping our personal observations, thoughts, and wishes to ourselves--when we step outside those boundaries, we are risking unnecessary criticism, particularly when we bring it on ourselves.
*Writing Skills--As an English teacher, I am heavily biased about this point. Simply stated, if we are professionals, we are expected to clearly understand how the English language works and to produce clear manuscripts that are distributed to our students via handouts, to scholarship committee members via recommendation letters, to our students' parents via written communication, and to our administrators and peers via occasional professional correspondence. It boils down to this: Can we write well? Allow me to answer my own question: Not always. I say that not as a criticism simply because all of us are wired differently--stereotypically, math teachers, for example, are not strong writers. Their minds are not "word-oriented"; rather, their minds are "number-oriented," thus making them experts in their field. (Conversely, most English teachers are weak in math!) We all know that humans have their niches; it is a rare occasion when someone has the whole package. However, when the public reads a teacher's correspondence that is poorly written, an immediate negative reaction is triggered. From my seat, it all comes down to knowing our strengths and weaknesses; when I need help with my taxes, I go to a tax preparer just as when I have a household plumbing problem, I call a plumber. As a teacher, if I know I am not a good writer, then I need to be sure to have a strong editor who can correct and improve my writing before it meets the public. When manuscripts are presented, they have to be reflective of competent writers whether we have edited the documents ourselves or whether we have had editorial help. With grammar mistakes, misspelled words, and confusing points present, the reading public is quick to pounce.
I suppose one could read this blog today and be quick to judge me as putting myself on a pedestal . . . that person would be wrong but not too far off. Maintaining the professionalism of educators is an important priority in my life--I don't want others criticizing us when we have control over certain elements. Facing the facts, I know that various situations arise where we are going to get criticized or perceived unfairly, warranted or not; however, presenting a positive, professional image is under our control, and I contend--paraphrasing my previously-mentioned mentor--if we want to be perceived as pros, then we had better hold up our end of the bargain!
mag.gunther@gmail.com
I would think if any teacher/administrator were asked that question, the response would be an overwhelming "YES!" I would expect nothing to the contrary. However, if the taxpaying public were asked that same question, I suspect the majority would disagree for a variety of reasons . . . and that is where the disconnect occurs.
To begin this discussion, I must first explain a few key points:
*As my readers know, I am a retired public school teacher; as a result, my occasional bias toward the profession is genuine;
*Many of my friends and acquaintances outside the school building are not educators; thus, their views often conflict with mine.
*As a result of my interactions with both educators and non-educators, I can clearly see that how we (as educators) often view ourselves is not how everyone does . . . and that is why I am exploring this topic.
Writing on this sensitive matter is akin to walking through a field of landmines . . . moving gently forward but knowing possible danger lies ahead. Let me explore a few timeworn comments I have heard from others:
*You (educators) get three months off in the summer;
*You get holiday vacations;
*You get snow days;
*You get . . . fill in the blank.
I find myself cringing as I write those words, but these are the standard criticisms leveled toward teachers. While I find myself shaking my head at the aforementioned remarks, I do understand them because the majority of our working world do not always share those work perks . . . they get perks (time and a half, double time, . . .), but certainly not the same ones as educators. I get that, but, obviously, more details remain to be explored. Although many may attack the so-called easy life that teachers are perceived as living, that has little to do with my focus in this writing. I am not saying teachers are this and teachers are that and we should show more appreciation toward them; instead, I want to head in a slightly different direction.
The word professional has strong implications; doctors, nurses, and lawyers come to mind when I categorize how most people view professionals because their career choices require exit exams, ongoing education, personal interaction with the public, and, most frequently, confidentiality. Teachers--like doctors, nurses, and lawyers--must meet the same qualifications listed above. At one time long ago, teachers were highly regarded as professionals . . . but did something happen to alter that? I contend that--in the public's eyes--the answer is yes; in many ways, we as educators have contributed to our own perception. Being so bold to say that, I must explain my logic:
*Personal Appearance--I admit to being old school with various quirks as a result, but I am a firm believer in the adage of dressing for success. As a young teacher at Strasburg High School many years ago, I clearly remember my superintendent, Al Osler, gently reminding me that if I wanted to be treated as a professional then I had better dress as one. Watching my administrators wear suits/sport coats and ties every day was impressive; likewise, watching my male peers wear shirts and ties made an impact. I am not so naïve, however, as to think that just because a man wears a tie that he is automatically a quality teacher--I get that, and I also do not mean to imply that certain jobs within a school should require a tie (physical education, art, and industrial technology come to mind). What I am saying is that when we do not dress professionally, it merely provides the public with more ammunition to say we aren't professional because we look just like anyone else. I must stress that public schools rely on the support of communities, and those taxpayers are frequently quick to judge us in a negative light, deserved or not. When I wear a golf shirt to school, I am not so sure that I am sending the signal that I am a professional educator. (Many schools have "dress down days" where employees pay a fee toward a specific charity--I am not talking about those occasional times.) My financial advisors--bankers and investors--wear suits every time I meet with them; my doctor wears a shirt and tie under his lab coat; when I have consulted with an attorney, he is wearing a suit. My point should be obvious: If I want to be perceived as a professional, like the aforementioned, I need to at least look the role. My hunch--with no true facts to support it--is that if the perception is genuine, it will go a long way in influencing my standing within the community as well as with my students. One other point before I move on: Female educators who dress sharply ooze with professionalism; knowing that they take considerable pride in how they are perceived--just as with males--plays such an important role in how others view them.
*Public Comments--Human nature seems to indicate that we like to talk; I could probably go out on the proverbial limb and say we like to be heard. How often have we been in a conversation when the other person is already talking before we are done making our point? (Score that as one of my major weaknesses, as my wife tells me repeatedly to shut up and let her finish talking!) As educators, we frequently overstep our boundaries by making public comments that expose us to criticism (been there done that, by the way). Our often openly-stated wishes for snow days, for example, immediately send a negative signal to non-educators because they don't live in the same little world we do. Snow days in their work world are practically nonexistent and require them to find babysitters, to alter their everyday lives . . . ; to teachers, it mostly means a day off (even though we may be grading or preparing how to consolidate our lessons into fewer days) . . . non-teachers don't want to hear about our wishes. Additionally, we are occasionally guilty of sharing a bit too much information; while I attest that this is not peculiar to just the teaching profession, we certainly learn that parents do not want their kids' issues being discussed too openly. With the responsibility of teaching comes the responsibility of oftentimes keeping our personal observations, thoughts, and wishes to ourselves--when we step outside those boundaries, we are risking unnecessary criticism, particularly when we bring it on ourselves.
*Writing Skills--As an English teacher, I am heavily biased about this point. Simply stated, if we are professionals, we are expected to clearly understand how the English language works and to produce clear manuscripts that are distributed to our students via handouts, to scholarship committee members via recommendation letters, to our students' parents via written communication, and to our administrators and peers via occasional professional correspondence. It boils down to this: Can we write well? Allow me to answer my own question: Not always. I say that not as a criticism simply because all of us are wired differently--stereotypically, math teachers, for example, are not strong writers. Their minds are not "word-oriented"; rather, their minds are "number-oriented," thus making them experts in their field. (Conversely, most English teachers are weak in math!) We all know that humans have their niches; it is a rare occasion when someone has the whole package. However, when the public reads a teacher's correspondence that is poorly written, an immediate negative reaction is triggered. From my seat, it all comes down to knowing our strengths and weaknesses; when I need help with my taxes, I go to a tax preparer just as when I have a household plumbing problem, I call a plumber. As a teacher, if I know I am not a good writer, then I need to be sure to have a strong editor who can correct and improve my writing before it meets the public. When manuscripts are presented, they have to be reflective of competent writers whether we have edited the documents ourselves or whether we have had editorial help. With grammar mistakes, misspelled words, and confusing points present, the reading public is quick to pounce.
I suppose one could read this blog today and be quick to judge me as putting myself on a pedestal . . . that person would be wrong but not too far off. Maintaining the professionalism of educators is an important priority in my life--I don't want others criticizing us when we have control over certain elements. Facing the facts, I know that various situations arise where we are going to get criticized or perceived unfairly, warranted or not; however, presenting a positive, professional image is under our control, and I contend--paraphrasing my previously-mentioned mentor--if we want to be perceived as pros, then we had better hold up our end of the bargain!
mag.gunther@gmail.com
Thursday, December 4, 2014
A Tribute: Charlie Huggins
Because it is the beginning of the high school basketball season, I find it appropriate to pay tribute to a Tuscarawas County coaching icon: Charlie Huggins. Saying thanks is something we typically reserve for Thanksgiving Day--noble but oftentimes quite scripted. Writing this blog, however, allows me the freedom to look back over my life and periodically thank those who have shaped me. Consider this to be the first thank you--more may occasionally surface as time moves on. Also, this tribute runs longer than my normal blog, but I hope it will hold your attention. (Note: Most of what follows was originally written in 2000 and has been published in a book my Dover High School students and I wrote entitled We Couldn't Have Done It Alone . . . Volume II.)
As I have made my way, I have had the wonderful opportunity to have thoroughly enjoyed how I have earned my living. Doors have been opened, relationships have been made, and reputations have been established. Obviously, my parents and their upbringing were instrumental in my development. However, one other person steered me in the right direction. Today, I am paying tribute to a man who influenced me so much.
A taskmaster? Definitely. A teacher? Definitely. A motivator? Definitely. A character? Definitely! It is true I have been motivated by so many people throughout my life, but it is one individual who shaped me, nurtured me, and forced me to see what I could become. That man was Charlie Huggins, the absolute best basketball coach I have ever seen.
The reputation of Coach Huggins certainly preceded him before he became the basketball coach at Indian Valley South High School in the 1970 summer. As a soon-to-be sophomore who loved basketball, I soon realized I would be entering a world I had never before been. In his initial meeting with his players, I heard him explain how the goal was to win the state championship, an ambitious dream yet one that captured my thoughts. Soon thereafter, my classmates and I were making three trips a week to Sherrodsville where Coach Huggins's fledgling basketball camp was located. For the first time, I was in a summer league playing against opponents from other schools and starting on the educational trip of my life. Little did I realize where that trip would lead me.
As my familiarity with the coach increased, so did my respect. I was always in awe of him, and it soon became obvious that if I could only withstand the pressure of playing for him, I would soon join a select club, a somewhat elite club, of those who had survived. He had an aura about him that demanded respect. Whether it was his piercing voice, his impressive knowledge, his motivational tactics, his unceasing baiting of officials, or his reputation for winning, we all knew he was the one who was going to make us better players and better individuals than we had been. Simply put, we believed . . . and that was the key.
I would like to say I totally worshipped the man, but in so doing I would not be telling the whole truth. The fact is I went through periods where I literally could not stand him. In the midst of three-to-four hour nightly practices, I found it so easy to wish I were home doing something else, anything but standing in that Port Washington gym listening to him rant and rave about our lack of mental discipline. Moments existed when I wanted nothing more than for him to suddenly "pack up and head out of town." While in those situations, I could not understand his motivational tactics. He had a way of knocking each of us down emotionally and then gradually pulling us back up. What I did not grasp at the time was that he truly knew what made each of us "tick" . . . he knew us better than we knew ourselves. So, while he was knocking us down and preventing us from becoming arrogant over our successes, he was successfully uniting our team. Because none of us were spared, he was forcing us to have one common individual to unify our frustrations: him . . . and not our teammates.
It took me years to understand his strategies, but in time I realized what he had done. He knew each of us was not going to quit, despite our private thoughts of doing just that. Rather, he knew he had what each of us wanted: a winner . . . and he was so right. When the time came for our mental discipline to be exposed, we met the challenge, time after time. Those long nights of practice, those incessant corrections about doing tasks exactly right instead of almost right, and the constant repetition of drills had accomplished what he had anticipated. We blossomed into an outstanding team, a 51-1 team, and the primary reason was Coach Huggins.
Simply writing about what I remember from my high school days would encompass so many pages that it would be unfeasible to do so. In addition, the winning my high school teams did is not why I am writing my tribute to Coach Huggins. I am writing this to verify why he has been so invaluable in my life. It has taken me many years to sit down and say what I have wanted to this man, so this tribute is long overdue. To Coach Charlie Huggins, I proudly write these words:
Coach, thanks for kicking me (figuratively) in the hind end when I was playing for you. Your persistence in instilling a work ethic has never left me, and I truly realize that self-discipline is such an integral part of individual success.
Coach, thanks for making me learn basketball; I do not mean just the X and O part of the game--I mean the attention to detail, the importance of execution, and the team concept. When I became a coach, I quickly realized how well prepared I was about the fundamentals of the game. Your devotion to these fundamentals truly made you "a man ahead of your times."
Coach, thanks for allowing a highly average player to reach his ability level. Because you realized there was a role for kid who would work hard for you, you made me feel I could be a part of a great tradition; I have never forgotten that you gave me a tremendous opportunity.
Coach, thanks for teaching me about loyalty. You made it clear--without ever saying it--that if I could endure your coaching, I would have earned a special place in your heart . . . and you have never forgotten.
Coach, thanks for showing me how important it is to always be a student, whether that be academic or athletic. Through your continual devotion to your camp, you were always learning the game so that you would have the edge over your competition. That same principle remained paramount in my professional life; I knew I could not sit idly back and rest on my laurels. The moment that would happen is when I would lose my edge . . . I learned that merely by observing you.
Coach, thanks for remaining loyal to your values. To this day, I have never heard you swear, and I have never heard you waiver from your beliefs. I have learned that a strong man is one who lives by a value system, whether it is identical to yours or not.
Coach, thanks for remaining humble through all those years. Anyone who has ever heard your name has an opinion of you--some complimentary, some not--but all know how great a coach you were. From you, I have learned that the moment success controls me is the moment I begin to become less effective. To continually be working toward success is the sign of humility.
Coach, thanks for your sense of humor. I always knew you would make me laugh in one way or another. That ability to successfully intermix discipline, hard work, and a sense of humor continues to impress me. You had a way of making me realize that when we were done with our work for the evening, we could still enjoy each other's uniqueness. If imitation truly is the sincerest form of flattery, then I have paid you the most sincere compliment simply because I always tried to do the same in my role as a teacher and a coach . . . and it worked.
For all these years, I had wanted to sincerely thank Coach Huggins for his role in my life, but quite frankly, I had always found it so difficult to walk up to the man and express what I had wanted to say. During the 1998 summer, however, I almost cracked. While working his camp to watch our Dover High School basketball players, I was talking with Coach Huggins when he suddenly interrupted our conversation by saying, "Mikey, you should be proud of yourself. You've made yourself into a successful man, a great teacher, and an excellent coach. I'm proud of you."
I absolutely did not know what to say. Quickly, I uttered a thank you, and then both of us were on our way doing something else. What Coach did not realize was that I had waited my whole adult life to hear those words. As I drove home that evening, I could think of nothing but our conversation. Part way home, I realized I had tears running from my eyes. I had won his respect, and his words only cemented the fact that I became who I am today largely because of my relationship with him.
From a skinny high school sophomore to a balding middle-aged man, I have been on an amazing educational trip. The teacher: Charlie Huggins, a man who made his mark on my life and a man whom I truly admire.
Thursday, November 6, 2014
"Ah, These Kids These Days . . ."
"When I was a kid, I never would have been able to get away with that!"
"When I was in school, if I got paddled at school, I'd get the same when I got home!"
"When I went to school, we learned important stuff, not the stuff kids learn today!"
"Kids today don't know anything!"
Any of the above sound familiar?
I am running a risk, but as an educator my view of kids today may run contrary to many of my generation or those slightly older than I. My take is quite simple: Kids today are so much smarter than we ever were . . .we don't like to hear that, I know, but I must stress a key point: They are much smarter in different ways, ones that are important to their world, not the world we planted roots. Now let me add a second part to that statement: Kids today are not overly focused on what "we" think they should be, therefore creating the mentality that kids are not like us . . . and in that I find considerable validity.
Three obvious examples help make my point:
*Penmanship--the teaching of cursive writing is fading. With the exception of our signatures, we seldom cursively write today, so why should we spend time teaching it? It is a dying art.
*Simple Math--who among us does not rely upon calculators and phone apps to do our math for us? I, too, still like to mentally calculate, but I rely upon the calculator to verify my figures. Kids' addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division skills do not carry the importance that they did when we were students. Yes, practical application of those skills (such as understanding how to read a ruler/tape measure) are so crucial in certain lines of work, but times have changed--we rely on technology to do our work for us.
*Map Reading--we rely upon GPS systems, whether they be Garmins or Googles--we hit a button, and, good lord, the GPS even talks to us. What happens if it doesn't work? Of all the times I am on the road, it is a rare occasion when it doesn't; if it does fail, I resort to the old way: I stop at a gas station and ask directions!
My claim is quite obvious: Kids do not need the same intelligence that we did in our era. Simply stated, they are wired differently. However, we love to compare the way we were raised with the way kids are raised today, and we continually conclude that our intelligence supersedes theirs . . . I do not agree. To continue my argument, allow me to focus on the educational system then and now.
*In my day, teachers and students truly were not overly accountable--teachers were not monitored and evaluated dependent upon how their kids did on standardized tests. Yesteryear's teachers did their jobs as they were trained, but they did not have the pressures of meeting state and national standards; likewise, they did not have the added burden of comparison with neighboring schools or other schools within the state. Schools did their educating and went on their merry way. I look back at my education, and even though I was quite pleased with most of my teachers, I still recall the lackadaisical attitude that was allowed to flourish: a teacher making an assignment and retreating to the coaches' room to smoke a pipe, the repeated study halls because a teacher did not want to teach that day, the distribution of worksheets and instructions to complete them . . .I could go on, but my point should be clear: what we remember as being quality education would clearly lead to many of yesteryear's teachers being fired today--again, today, teachers' accountability is paramount. If a teacher does not consistently produce, then that teacher had better re-evaluate and double down on teaching strategies because the end could be approaching.
*Does anyone really remember how important the ACT test was when we went to school? My recollection is that I showed up at New Philadelphia High School on a Saturday morning, took a test, went home, ultimately got my scores, and didn't really care too much about how I had scored. Truthfully, I do not recall a teacher even stressing anything about the test; today, the ACT is a major determiner of college acceptance and financial qualifying. Therefore, students take and retake the test with the hope of scoring higher each time. Classes are devoted to assisting those students, tutors are hired to prep kids in weak areas, and teachers study the test so they can help their students in learning what is on the test. Back in the day, so little attention was devoted to those tests--today's parents expect their kids to score well; when the students fail to do so, it is not unusual for the fingerpointing game to begin: They must not have been taught well. Again, accountability becomes the central issue.
More examples could be made, but I would hope my point has been made: Teachers' accountability is vastly different than it was in my era as a student and as a young teacher.
Another point that must be made involves parenting. Yes, in the day, perhaps our parents were more intimidating and demanding, and I am fairly confident in saying that the onus for learning was on the kid, not the school. Today's world is a bit different simply because today's parents are in many cases extremely vigilant about their kids' education. That has pluses and minuses, but that overseeing does create other issues, most notably kids often relying on their parents stepping to the plate and defending them. One offshoot of that oversight is grade inflation; as stated in my initial blog a few weeks ago, students' main objective is to get "good" grades. My generation likes to think we "were all about learning." Revealing my weakness, I don't remember that--I just wanted a high grade so my parents would stay off my hind end! I don't think that much has changed from the students' perspectives: "Give me a good grade, so my parents are happy." In truth, I do not remember parents rushing to their kids' defense if a grade was not what they desired; today, that often is the first reaction.
My second point is this: Teachers today are under pressure for kids to get "good" grades; as a result, grading scales have been relaxed to ensure that more kids get an "A" (or at least a higher grade) so those students can have a "more positive feeling about themselves," as I have heard many a parent express. I will say this: More kids are getting higher grades than they deserve . . . changing times. As stated, pluses and minuses are part of that, but my experience tells me that parents are much more protective of their kids in today's world. If the kids are getting the grades the parents desire, then all is well with the world. Grade inflation? I guarantee that most parents will say it might happen, "but it hasn't happened with my child." OK, as we like to say today, whatever. We often wonder why children are defensive about so many issues they confront; perhaps it has something to do with the way we are raising them. Let me make this point: One reason the ACT has such added importance is because the same (or similar) test is being taken by all--yes, I understand that test anxiety, time limitation, and so on do play roles. As a result of the test's commonality, though, scores can be legitimately compared, much more convincingly than a student's GPA, which varies from school to school and can be unfairly influenced by lax grading scales and the dreaded "extra credit." In many cases, a kid's ACT score may be a better indicator of the student's skills than his or her GPA. My point: Perhaps we place way too much emphasis on grades than we do actual learning.
Another observation I have made is that somewhere, somehow, sometime, we became convinced that we were stellar, high-achieving, dedicated students during our time. My response is quite simple: How did that happen? If I recall correctly, many of my peers and I did not "set the world on fire" when it came to academic excellence--solid students, yes, but certainly not the highest of achievers. Dedicated? Soul-search for a moment--were we really? I know the boy writing this wasn't. Just as our memory often clouds our past athletic glory, we sometimes misrepresent our own academic strengths. Translated, many of us, including me, were not the students then that we might want to remember ourselves as being.
Now, in regard to one other point: Kids are not overly focused on what we think they should be. I expect kids to be avid readers and skilled writers--most are not. I expect kids to be more productive than just sitting and playing video games--most are not. I expect kids to take their headsets off and verbally communicate--many do not. I expect kids to dress properly and treat others respectfully--many do not. I expect kids to have a strong work ethic--few do. So, let's agree that back in the day our parents might have stepped in and made kids be more compatible with the parents' expectations. Today we are much more lenient with kids because we allow them to "be themselves." Our parents in the day could have cared less about that; for the most part, they wanted us to be like them, so they sometimes demanded, smacked, paddled us into submission. In 2014, parents' control is a bit more limited; translated, many kids get away with a whole bunch more disrespect than "we" would have ever tolerated . . .but please look at our society. Isn't that simply the way it has evolved? Society has forced us to adapt with it whether we want to or not! An additional insight: Review my points in this paragraph--each of the aforementioned is related to how these kids are raised. Pointing our fingers at the schools for not developing the mindset we desire is a cop-out; schools re-enforce, but the character issues are all on the home environment.
As I pull all this together, here is my perspective:
*Kids know more than "we" did;
*"We" like to hang on to the idea that "we" were raised better; instead, I think "we" were raised differently, in a society that was less protective, less promiscuous, and less tolerant;
*"We" might not have been quite as academically dedicated in high school as "we" might like to remember!
*"We" oftentimes judge kids unfairly, but oftentimes it is quite deserved;
*"We" frequently hang on to our convictions because "we" fear what is becoming of this world!
Borrowing a songline from Bye, Bye Birdie, "What's the matter with these kids these days?". . . the kids are different in certain ways, but the real point is it's a different world!
"When I was in school, if I got paddled at school, I'd get the same when I got home!"
"When I went to school, we learned important stuff, not the stuff kids learn today!"
"Kids today don't know anything!"
Any of the above sound familiar?
I am running a risk, but as an educator my view of kids today may run contrary to many of my generation or those slightly older than I. My take is quite simple: Kids today are so much smarter than we ever were . . .we don't like to hear that, I know, but I must stress a key point: They are much smarter in different ways, ones that are important to their world, not the world we planted roots. Now let me add a second part to that statement: Kids today are not overly focused on what "we" think they should be, therefore creating the mentality that kids are not like us . . . and in that I find considerable validity.
Three obvious examples help make my point:
*Penmanship--the teaching of cursive writing is fading. With the exception of our signatures, we seldom cursively write today, so why should we spend time teaching it? It is a dying art.
*Simple Math--who among us does not rely upon calculators and phone apps to do our math for us? I, too, still like to mentally calculate, but I rely upon the calculator to verify my figures. Kids' addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division skills do not carry the importance that they did when we were students. Yes, practical application of those skills (such as understanding how to read a ruler/tape measure) are so crucial in certain lines of work, but times have changed--we rely on technology to do our work for us.
*Map Reading--we rely upon GPS systems, whether they be Garmins or Googles--we hit a button, and, good lord, the GPS even talks to us. What happens if it doesn't work? Of all the times I am on the road, it is a rare occasion when it doesn't; if it does fail, I resort to the old way: I stop at a gas station and ask directions!
My claim is quite obvious: Kids do not need the same intelligence that we did in our era. Simply stated, they are wired differently. However, we love to compare the way we were raised with the way kids are raised today, and we continually conclude that our intelligence supersedes theirs . . . I do not agree. To continue my argument, allow me to focus on the educational system then and now.
*In my day, teachers and students truly were not overly accountable--teachers were not monitored and evaluated dependent upon how their kids did on standardized tests. Yesteryear's teachers did their jobs as they were trained, but they did not have the pressures of meeting state and national standards; likewise, they did not have the added burden of comparison with neighboring schools or other schools within the state. Schools did their educating and went on their merry way. I look back at my education, and even though I was quite pleased with most of my teachers, I still recall the lackadaisical attitude that was allowed to flourish: a teacher making an assignment and retreating to the coaches' room to smoke a pipe, the repeated study halls because a teacher did not want to teach that day, the distribution of worksheets and instructions to complete them . . .I could go on, but my point should be clear: what we remember as being quality education would clearly lead to many of yesteryear's teachers being fired today--again, today, teachers' accountability is paramount. If a teacher does not consistently produce, then that teacher had better re-evaluate and double down on teaching strategies because the end could be approaching.
*Does anyone really remember how important the ACT test was when we went to school? My recollection is that I showed up at New Philadelphia High School on a Saturday morning, took a test, went home, ultimately got my scores, and didn't really care too much about how I had scored. Truthfully, I do not recall a teacher even stressing anything about the test; today, the ACT is a major determiner of college acceptance and financial qualifying. Therefore, students take and retake the test with the hope of scoring higher each time. Classes are devoted to assisting those students, tutors are hired to prep kids in weak areas, and teachers study the test so they can help their students in learning what is on the test. Back in the day, so little attention was devoted to those tests--today's parents expect their kids to score well; when the students fail to do so, it is not unusual for the fingerpointing game to begin: They must not have been taught well. Again, accountability becomes the central issue.
More examples could be made, but I would hope my point has been made: Teachers' accountability is vastly different than it was in my era as a student and as a young teacher.
Another point that must be made involves parenting. Yes, in the day, perhaps our parents were more intimidating and demanding, and I am fairly confident in saying that the onus for learning was on the kid, not the school. Today's world is a bit different simply because today's parents are in many cases extremely vigilant about their kids' education. That has pluses and minuses, but that overseeing does create other issues, most notably kids often relying on their parents stepping to the plate and defending them. One offshoot of that oversight is grade inflation; as stated in my initial blog a few weeks ago, students' main objective is to get "good" grades. My generation likes to think we "were all about learning." Revealing my weakness, I don't remember that--I just wanted a high grade so my parents would stay off my hind end! I don't think that much has changed from the students' perspectives: "Give me a good grade, so my parents are happy." In truth, I do not remember parents rushing to their kids' defense if a grade was not what they desired; today, that often is the first reaction.
My second point is this: Teachers today are under pressure for kids to get "good" grades; as a result, grading scales have been relaxed to ensure that more kids get an "A" (or at least a higher grade) so those students can have a "more positive feeling about themselves," as I have heard many a parent express. I will say this: More kids are getting higher grades than they deserve . . . changing times. As stated, pluses and minuses are part of that, but my experience tells me that parents are much more protective of their kids in today's world. If the kids are getting the grades the parents desire, then all is well with the world. Grade inflation? I guarantee that most parents will say it might happen, "but it hasn't happened with my child." OK, as we like to say today, whatever. We often wonder why children are defensive about so many issues they confront; perhaps it has something to do with the way we are raising them. Let me make this point: One reason the ACT has such added importance is because the same (or similar) test is being taken by all--yes, I understand that test anxiety, time limitation, and so on do play roles. As a result of the test's commonality, though, scores can be legitimately compared, much more convincingly than a student's GPA, which varies from school to school and can be unfairly influenced by lax grading scales and the dreaded "extra credit." In many cases, a kid's ACT score may be a better indicator of the student's skills than his or her GPA. My point: Perhaps we place way too much emphasis on grades than we do actual learning.
Another observation I have made is that somewhere, somehow, sometime, we became convinced that we were stellar, high-achieving, dedicated students during our time. My response is quite simple: How did that happen? If I recall correctly, many of my peers and I did not "set the world on fire" when it came to academic excellence--solid students, yes, but certainly not the highest of achievers. Dedicated? Soul-search for a moment--were we really? I know the boy writing this wasn't. Just as our memory often clouds our past athletic glory, we sometimes misrepresent our own academic strengths. Translated, many of us, including me, were not the students then that we might want to remember ourselves as being.
Now, in regard to one other point: Kids are not overly focused on what we think they should be. I expect kids to be avid readers and skilled writers--most are not. I expect kids to be more productive than just sitting and playing video games--most are not. I expect kids to take their headsets off and verbally communicate--many do not. I expect kids to dress properly and treat others respectfully--many do not. I expect kids to have a strong work ethic--few do. So, let's agree that back in the day our parents might have stepped in and made kids be more compatible with the parents' expectations. Today we are much more lenient with kids because we allow them to "be themselves." Our parents in the day could have cared less about that; for the most part, they wanted us to be like them, so they sometimes demanded, smacked, paddled us into submission. In 2014, parents' control is a bit more limited; translated, many kids get away with a whole bunch more disrespect than "we" would have ever tolerated . . .but please look at our society. Isn't that simply the way it has evolved? Society has forced us to adapt with it whether we want to or not! An additional insight: Review my points in this paragraph--each of the aforementioned is related to how these kids are raised. Pointing our fingers at the schools for not developing the mindset we desire is a cop-out; schools re-enforce, but the character issues are all on the home environment.
As I pull all this together, here is my perspective:
*Kids know more than "we" did;
*"We" like to hang on to the idea that "we" were raised better; instead, I think "we" were raised differently, in a society that was less protective, less promiscuous, and less tolerant;
*"We" might not have been quite as academically dedicated in high school as "we" might like to remember!
*"We" oftentimes judge kids unfairly, but oftentimes it is quite deserved;
*"We" frequently hang on to our convictions because "we" fear what is becoming of this world!
Borrowing a songline from Bye, Bye Birdie, "What's the matter with these kids these days?". . . the kids are different in certain ways, but the real point is it's a different world!
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