The Memory of Geography

Hey, can you help me out?  We can't leave until we set the alarm and we can't set the alarm until we know all the doors are locked. Can you come with me through the school and help me check the doors?  Come on, I will tell you stories as we go. Schools are filled with stories you know.

Let's start on the third floor and work our way down.  Just rattle the door knobs to make sure they are locked.  Do you remember this hall?  Right there in front of that door, that's where I saw Ed for the last time. He died that weekend.  He had a head full of curly hair and he was in his soccer uniform. He had that big grin and there were girls with him.  Almost every time I walk past here I think of him, I think I see him. I hope the place remembers him when I'm gone.

These are all locked.  Lets go to the second floor.

See at the corner there, there's where the entire school bottle necks.  You wouldn't believe the jostling and pushing that goes on at this corner. I remember seeing Karen there; her glasses smudged, looking for her EA. She's so upset.  All the kids are walking around her, making sure not to bump into her because they see how upset she is.  Someone's always getting jostled here; someone is always looking out for someone here.

We just have the first floor left.

One time I saw a young couple break up right there.  Oh and over there, that's where the basketball team huddles before big games.  I remember a girl crying with a few of her friends trying to comfort her over there. And right there, near those windows, that's where the tech teacher had five guys following him.  He was teaching them how to install a wooden statue they had carved.  See look, it's still there.

Anne Michael's says that geography has memory. I see that in the geography of a school. Late at night after a game or a show, or after parent night, or in the quiet hours of the morning, schools tell us who we are.  They remind us, that for a brief and fleeting moment, we knew each other.

Thanks for your help.

New Teachers: The Nomads of Education

Entropy, from a thermodynamic point of view, is the inability of a system to convert thermal energy into work (Quick writing tip: always begin with the thermodynamic hook.  People eat that up.).  Entropy represents the inefficiency of a system; the degree of disorder or uncertainty in a system and there is no better word to describe the current state of young teachers. 

New teachers across the country live in an educational no man's land of  the long term occasional position. This oxymoronic position, as it is neither long term, nor occasional, has allowed boards and governments to create a permanent underclass of teachers.What it has done is create the actual definition of entropy; a teaching life of uncertainty, disorder and inefficiency.

So what you might mumble into your coffee mug.  So the young teacher has no certainty, lots of young people face that. So what, they are in disorder, running from one school to the next, you did that too, you say, as you build your personal myth.  So what the system is inefficient, wasting the resources of the young, their energy, their idealism.  You were similarly abused you mutter as you pour yourself more wine.

The cost of these educational nomads is high. Relationships between young teachers and their students are very rarely allowed to develop for more than a term or a semester. There is a high price to pay for these truncated relationships but we have no way calculating that price.  The young teacher is not given the essential opportunity of honing his or her craft, building a course and working with mentors for not just months, but for years. How do we measure the loss of this transfer of experience from one generation to the next?

Not to worry.  The young teacher is learning.  They are learning that loyalty and merit are not as important as seniority and adaptability. They are learning that they are workers not professionals and they are learning that their value only lies in their ability to fill gaps that no one else wants to fill. What is the cost of those lessons?

Most systems do a poor job of capturing all of their inefficiencies.  Education is particularly bad at it because the value of loyalty, the value of interpersonal relationships and the value of honing a teaching craft is difficult to measure.  What is easy to measure is savings that boards gain from not paying new teachers' benefits, from keeping them a temporary work force.  If employers keep new teachers off balance, they create a workforce that is just thankful to have a job and when you do that, you save money for a long, long time.

The sad conclusion from this is, we truly know the cost of everything and the value of nothing.

The Experts At The Fence

There's something in this painting and this interpretation of it (The Meeting of The School Trustees by Robert Harris) that resonates with me.

Who does get to decide what is taught and how it is taught?

A governmental bureaucrat, a school trustee, a Chair of a board, a Superintendent, a consultant perhaps, all would say that they have a role in what is taught and how it is taught. No doubt there are many of our neighbours, fellas we play hockey with, friends that we have dinner with, who also believe that they should have a say.

Finally, there are the many teachers who believe they know what is best.

"You work for us" says the Trustee who can't read.  Today he appears as a relative or even a friend who wades into the educational discussion with "The problem with education today....".  There is no end to the people who seem to know what is best for teachers and students and education. Many of them are leaning on school yard fences as they watch their child walk into an elementary school.

I am always stunned by the surety of those who offer unsolicited advice about education.   How are they so sure, while I, after having been in it all my life, still wonder if there is or ever has been, one true path.

Perhaps the problem isn't education but it is how we talk about it.  Maybe we need some guidelines as we address the issue.  Let's start with three.

First, if you haven't been in a classroom lately, maybe the discussion should stay on the philosophical side. Let's stick to what you want out of an education system, what goals it should have, what role you want it to play in a democratic society.  I've built stuff but when I hire a carpenter, I don't tell her how many nails to use.  I give her the big picture of what I want and leave her to it. Let's stay out of the nuts and bolts about delivery. Chances are you really don't know how much home work the teacher should assign.  You probably haven't done the research on new math and you really don't know which approach is better when it comes to language and reading.

Second, your personal mythology should remain just that; mythological and personal.  If you start a sentence with "back in the day " or "when I was in school", you're living in myth. Yes, I know the teachers were mean when you were a kid and yes, you had to know your times table and you MEMORIZED! them. But as an offering into the development of a modern education system, the construction of curriculum and its delivery, your gift of memorization and your horror at the hands of a cruel teacher remain good story and largely irrelevant to the conversation.

Third, if you have an agenda other than the development of literate, critical thinking citizens in a healthy democracy, it should stay out of our discussions about education.   If you're a person who wants evolution taught as just another theory or you want workers not citizens or you think that references to sex in health are yukky, you're looking for a discussion about things other than a modern, progressive education system.

Finally, for active teachers, take inspiration from the painting; the teacher's strength, her determination to stand up to the patriarchy and the privilege.  Rely on your experience, on your education, on the research that informs your practice, on your judgement, on your collaboration with colleagues and on your knowledge of your students.  These will give you her strength.
       

At Christmas, they ask "what did ya get". On Labour Day they ask, "who did ya get".

I was nervous 30 years ago today.  I had laid out my tweed jacket, a corduroy tie and slacks (yes, slacks) and tossed and turned in my bed as I waited for what was to come.  That was my first Labour Day as a teacher and today is my last.  After 30 years, there's still some nervousness, maybe a little bit of trepidation but really more of a feeling of anticipation of so many "lasts" to come.

Many things have changed; I've lost the jacket and tie, and the slacks.  Replaced them with more casual clothing.  I've lost my hair, some more of my eye sight and even an inch in height.  I've gained weight, perhaps gained some wisdom and gained Google.

Everything has changed except teachers, students and learning.

Harry Bruce wrote in his classic essay "Labor Day is the dreaded bell in the school yard of my mind", people don't ask on Labour Day "what did ya get?"  They ask "who'd ya get?"  And for good or for bad, millions of students and thousands of teachers will enter the class room tomorrow wondering "who'd I get."

So teachers, on this my last Labour Day of anxiety, my last sleepless school eve, here's who I hope you get.  I hope you get a student who is a character; one who makes you laugh even when you are trying to keep a straight face.  I also hope and know you will, meet a student who will wow you with his or her abilities and brilliance.  I hope you meet some students that you make a difference to and that they tell you about it years later.  I hope you meet some colleagues that make you want to be better. Finally, I hope you meet at least one student, and again, I know you will, who you don't reach, can't figure out and ultimately fail at helping.  That student will make you a far better teacher next Labour Day.

And students, on this the eve of my last first day, after having spent 48 years in a school, and having seen the best of teachers, both as a student and a teacher, here's the teacher I hope you get.  I hope you get a teacher who errs on the side of kindness.  I hope you get a teacher who sees you for the person you are and the one you will become.  I hope you get a memorable teacher, a character that you never forget.  I hope you meet a teacher this year who makes you see something new, one who awakens something you had no idea was in you. I hope you meet a teacher who pushes you so hard, you get angry.   I hope you get a teacher that you laugh with and one who says hello, who calls your name all the time, who you admire and respect, and who listens to you.

The clothes are laid out for tomorrow.   The back pack is packed and ready to go. Now it's only a matter of being the people we hope we get.