When I really think deeply about education, I often reach the conclusion that those who want to teach are really in the wrong job!

Much of education these days is analyzing skills and working with teachers on “evidenced based” research showing just how to make sure that all students master essential skills for reading or math or whatever. We watch children read and make mistakes. We form teams to analyze exactly why that mistake is being made and we devise plans for correcting that error. I say, “Play whack-a-mole!” It is a lot more fun and is likely to be just as effective.
Many in education are getting ready for the new school year, which means they are subjected to those endless professional development torture sessions in which some expert is telling them that income doesn’t matter, family environment does not matter, race does not matter, gender does not matter, yada yada yada. I am so sorry! They will also hear that voices like mine are just slowing the inevitable progress toward greatness that we all desire.
Let’s be clear. Skills matter. Analyzing student performance is essential. A belief in all students, regardless of income, family situation, race, gender, etc. matters. Educators must believe that progress is possible for every single student or they should explore other career options outside of the education world. Let’s explore why folks like me feel increasingly alienated from the school environment today.
The state of Michigan recently passed legislation that demands teacher evaluations each year. Part of the evaluation MUST consider student improvement http://www.michigan.gov/documents/mde/Educator_Evaluations_At-A-Glance_522133_7.pdf) . In my District, this process involves meeting with the principal to set mutually agreed upon goals that can be measured and tracked. There are other components, but let’s start with this part of the process. When I met with my principals after this law was passed, they often began with the principal asking me about my goals. Each time I would say that my goal is to do one nice thing for each student each day. Invariably this response would receive a laugh. Often the principal’s response was to ask, “That’s funny but what are your goals?” And I would repeat that I wanted to do one nice thing each day for each child. Eventually we would work out some language that involved reading scores, math scores, and what improvement percentage they should be at by the end of the year. Of course the assessment measures would be stipulated. Unlike many of my peers, I never paid any attention to this document. I did not even read one single one of my evaluations in my last year (What was the point?) because my goals are not based on testing or based on improvement or based on what makes it easier for Lansing to evaluate effectiveness.
My daily routine in my classroom for almost all of my seventeen years involved arriving at school at least thirty minutes before our required arrival time. Enter the room, turn on just one set of lights (or none), turn on the computer, and login. While waiting for the computer to be ready, I meditated on my class. I tried to get a mental image of each student without using a class list. For each child, I would think about his or her performance the previous day or for that week. What would make this person like school? What would make this student want to improve? What can I do to make this day a great day for this student? I always knew who needed the most attention from me when I had trouble naming or picturing this student or that. In my head, I would set a goal for when to approach the student and how to do this job.
Obviously some students required a much different kind of reaction than others. The common denominator, however, is that each student often needed permission to simply be themselves. Is it okay to move? Is it okay to not like reading? Is it okay to hate math? Is it okay to be silly? Is it okay to be small or big or a boy or a girl? Is it okay to be the only one? Is it okay to not know things? Is it okay to make mistakes? It is okay to have crazy family members, right? Is it okay to be quiet? Is it okay to be happy? Is it okay to be depressed? Is it okay to be sick? Is it okay to want friends? Is it okay to be sad when others do not like you as much as you like them? Is it okay to want what someone else has? Is it okay to be mad at you, Mr. Spicer?
We ALWAYS began each year with a discussion of whether or not it is acceptable to be mad at school. MANY first graders think this is wrong. “It is very OKAY to be angry in this classroom. I promise you that I will get angry with each and everyone of you at some point. But, you know, you can be very, very happy and get in BIG trouble. You can be very VERY surprised and get in BIG trouble. You can be sad and get in trouble and you can be mad and get in trouble. It is OKAY to feel how you feel. You may not even be able to control that. This year we are going to learn how to be MAD and NOT get in trouble. How to be HAPPY and NOT get in trouble. How to be SAD and NOT get in trouble.”
What followed this was a short story of me as a first grader, hating to read and being embarrassed and getting in a lot of trouble. TRUE stories. First graders getting in trouble and having trouble learning go hand in hand much of the time. When we think about it, if a first grader cannot do math, will that first grader practice math on his or her own time at home? Will the student who cannot read at grade level pick up a book at home after dinner and plop down alone and read? We won’t even go into economic constraints; we will assume that all students have a book at home to read (and in my classroom EVERYONE does). What about the student who loves math? Will this student play with numbers at home? Will the student who loves to read pick up a book and read? Does practice at home have any relationship to academic improvement?
Much of the academic world insists that practice makes perfect. When a student cannot read, we tell that student, “Well, you cannot read so we are going to take away science from you and have you practice. We are going to take away recess and make you read. What is more, we are going to call your family and tell them you must read at home too.” With this extra practice, the student will improve. And guess what, sometimes that student DOES improve. That student may even grow up to be a Michigan legislature member and be in charge of “improving” education. This approach has led to lots of skills-based drills, which are “much better” because they are done on an iPad or other gadget.
We have a situation in which much of the universe is screaming that students need to know facts, need to have solid phonemic skills, need to have an acceptable reading fluency rate. We have others who know that regardless of how much we drill, students are not likely to improve as much as we want. They know that students will give up and then there is a long failing remedial road ahead of them. They scream that homework is the enemy and have the research to back it up. Did all of the practice that Michael Jordan do count as homework? Did my reading under my bed when I was supposed to be sleeping count as homework?

I believe that students must practice to improve. However the second we begin to insist on the number of minutes, the amount of homework, the type of practice that is appropriate we have lost. Educators MUST return to the question of whether or not a student who goes home will practice on his or her own. The goal of education to me is relinquishing the role of being the arbitrator of what is correct and what is not correct. “Young women! Young men! I am NOT the answer man! You tell me if it is right or wrong and be prepared to tell me why you think that way.” Education is the right of each student and the responsibility of each student. The job of the person in the classroom that we typically label as “teacher” is the one who must insure that students assume ownership of their own education. If it is for the parents or for the teacher or for anyone else but the student, it will not typically last very long.
Returning to that first day of school, in one form or another, I always told the class that if they were not making enough mistakes, we had a big problem! “You need to come up to me and tell me that you are not making enough mistakes and that you need harder work!”
In my mind the only way to really deal with an academic deficiency of one sort or the other, we must make trying hard things to be the class objective. We must value the student who really tried something difficult. Will the student who is not good in math try math at home if he or she can come back to school and receive all sorts of positive feedback from the teacher for trying something very hard? Maybe not, but my anecdotal experience tells me that this approach is MUCH MORE PROMISING than what we have doing for the last hundred plus years. If something does not work, try something else.

My whole classroom was built around valuing mistakes, valuing trying something that you cannot yet do. In fact, the last four or five years of my teaching career, I had students sign up to taste food that they said they hated. I made a table with their name, the food they hated, and three spots for tasting and recording results. When a student who hated green pepper tested it (and we model what an acceptable bite will be), they could respond with: Not Yet or Not My Favorite or I Like It Now. “Not Yet” tasters were allowed to get a cracker to remove the taste and a drink of water. They were praised for trying something really hard for them and reminded that they still had two more taste trials ahead of them. Folks who changed their minds OFTEN went home and told their parents to start buying peppers or spinach or broccoli or whatever (and I have the letters and email from parents to prove it). Students who said they could eat it heard stories of why being able to do something that is not our favorite thing to do is so important. And it is important to note that this tasting was voluntary. No student was forced to try anything. I sent a list of each student and his or her choice home to the family during the first week, along with why I was doing this exercise.
When a student comes up to me and says that she or he cannot do something, I believe them. When students tell me they hate something, I believe them. Recently I had this conversation with a middle school student:
Me: It is okay if you hate to read. Regardless of what your family says to you or what I say to you about reading, it is your life and if you hate reading and choose not to read, that is your decision.
Student: [chin drops]
Me: I think reading will make many things so much easier for you and if you ask, I will be happy to tell you why. But whether you choose to read or choose not to read, it is your choice and not mine.
For this student, reading has always been about pleasing the family or pleasing the teacher. It has never been about finding a passion. Reading has always been a struggle for this young man who loves to move and loves to daydream. Some would try to trick this young man into reading — NOT recommended. To be effective, you must be able to trust in time because unless this student CHOOSES to read independently, the prospect of a lifelong reader is very slim.
Plenty of educators will report success dealing with this student by doing this activity of that. Plenty of educators will say that whether or not this student chooses to read, he MUST have that skill or he will suffer for his entire life. They will criticize me for telling this young man that the choice is his. Perhaps they are correct.
I think kindness is more important than reading. I love to read. I read everyday. I read as many as 800 books each year. I would not be here without reading. This blog post would not happen without reading. And yet on day one I tell students that I would rather hang around kind student than smart students. I tell them that I hope for both but will always choose kind over smart, if faced with that choice. Consequently I had to leave a system in which pointing out error and fixing it is more important than embracing the individual and giving that student the power to even say that they do not care about reading. And I know that with each class I had, we made a lot of progress with each student finding out just who they are and being willing to make progress, often without glancing at the results another student has or does not have.
You cannot teach students to read at home when they do not read as fast as others or as well as others in school. You cannot convince a student to do math at home for fun when they do not do math well in school. If you persist in trying to teach these students how to do skills, you may succeed for a moment, but the likelihood of long term success is tenuous. To be successful, you need to create a value system in which the student realizes that reading and math and other subjects can be valuable because they are hard, that there is an intrinsic reward in overcoming an obstacle, especially one that has so many day-to-day applications.
The art of being an educator is in knowing the student so well that many of the nice things you do for them involves showing them a relationship and a personal connection to what they love. We show them how our math language reinforces the love. We show them a view of reading that has a window or mirror into a world that includes them or has a place for them — one that they choose because learning is truly a definition of what it means to be human.
