Let’s Be Careful How We Judge “Learning Loss”
An empty classroom does not mean the students aren’t learning.
It goes without saying that nobody wanted a pandemic.
Teachers above all know what it means when students are denied the meals, counseling, and other support services that schools provide. Schools are the beating hearts of many communities, not to mention their pride and joy. When a school is forced to shut down for any reason, many children will be left without a safe haven from their traumatic lives at home.
Still, I think it is a mistake to believe that the school building is some sacrosanct place where only a worthy education can be found. Learning occurs everywhere for children, with or without state-certified educators.
Children across the United States now are learning in a variety of settings: in-person, hybrid, or remotely from home. Each has its drawbacks for teachers, for even in-person classrooms are beset by rules about social distancing and mask-wearing that inhibit the style and quality of teaching most educators prefer.
When students return to school en masse, I, for one, will be excited to see them all again. What I am not excited for is the expected strip mining of student data that my administrators will be undergoing to determine mathematically how much “learning loss” has occurred.
This should not be our schools’ primary concern. It should not, in fact, be our secondary concern. Kids are resilient. Usually, it is we adults who struggle with unpredictability and change. And most educators readily believe Plutarch who once said a mind is not a vessel to be filled but a fire to be lit. Except the reality is our public schools are designed to measure learning in incremental doses that we pour into students’ heads.
Nowhere is this more prevalent than in our current test-crazy, quasi-scientific pursuit of “standards of excellence.” In a normal year, we heavily judge schools based on dubious standardized test scores, despite the fact these tests measure a student’s socioeconomic status and privilege more precisely than knowledge gained in school. Moreover, these measures of progress tell us precious little about a child’s state of being, temperament, preferences, determination, mindset (i.e. “I can learn and accomplish anything” or “I’m just gonna drop out anyway”) and anything else that matters in the real world.
And most educators readily believe Plutarch who once said a mind is not a vessel to be filled but a fire to be lit.
Some states are already gearing up for the feared learning loss. A proposed bill in the Florida statehouse would give parents the power to hold their child back a grade if they feel it would be beneficial to do so. And in Virginia, Governor Ralph Northam is suggesting extending the current school year to try to capture some of that important instruction that’s been lost due to the pandemic’s strain on school districts.
On the surface, these seem like innocent enough, even noble, goals. But underneath it plays to a myth about school that is woven into our society: no one knows better about what really needs to be learned than those who run our schools. Schools are to be cooperated with, not questioned. They are to be held in high esteem…not accountable. At least not by the very people who they purport to serve: the students and their families.
If you’ve missed school time, they’ll tell you, then you’ve missed precious learning that could impact the rest of your life. After all, whatever you’re pursuing in your spare time, it is not as important as what you’ll get taught in school. Not even close.
If this weren’t so, then why are student interests and preferences are rarely taken into account in curriculum design? Why is “teaching a lesson plan” a so much more highly regarded skill in teacher prep courses than “understanding how children learn”? I could go on. In fact, I wrote a lot about this topic here. But I don’t mean to belabor the point.
If we believe Plutarch then we need to accept that learning is not a linear process but a messy assemblage of knowledge and skills and revelations that ebbs and flows, creates and deconstructs, remembers and forgets…all within the same class period! Like a flame, it gutters and almost extinguishes, only to grow hot and brilliant again. And so it goes, illuminating the path for children to follow.
When they all come back to school this fall or at some point in the near future, let’s talk to them and figure out where they’re at, emotionally as well as academically. Let’s take it easy. Let’s build up our classrooms as student-centered learning communities and not worry about standards, standardized curriculums, or standardized tests. Though it will go against the grain, let’s break the mold of the one-size-fits-all school experience. Let’s celebrate what kids did learn this past year, even if it wasn’t in school (especially if it wasn’t in school). Let’s make the coming year more like the reunion that it is and grow together, teachers and students, in a trusting, strength-oriented environment. No more deficit modeling. Let’s start with a can-do attitude rather than a can’t-do mindset.
With any luck, we’ll never see another standardized test again.
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