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Lukiv's Educational Stew, Ingredient 3 of 5:
How to Teach Badly
Dan Lukiv
M.Ed., English and Creative Writing
McNaughton Centre, Quesnel, BC, Canada
E-mail: lukivdan@shaw.ca
In the spirit of
"The Great French Duel," written by that serious man that many
refer to as Mark Twain, I write this essay for all who once and for all
want to know how to teach badly. He tells us straight out:
Much as the modern French duel is ridiculed by certain smart people,
it is in reality one of the most dangerous institutions of our day.
Since it is always fought in the open air, the combatants are nearly
sure to catch cold. (?/1982, p.67)
In the breath of such sage reflection, I
remind or simply tell the reader: As people who watch Star Trek know beyond
reasonable doubts, alternate universes exist everywhere that they don't
think them to be, filled with their physical, yet altered-ego counterparts.
This essay, written for those counterparts, will fill them with appreciation
of astronomical filling. In terms of this essay being an elevator, it
goes all the way to the top! Let me begin with a great example.
The Great Example of Mr. Wackford Squeers
I want to begin with examples of masters.
They, the great meat of success, define what others could only dream of
becoming. I'll set the stage with words from that even-more-serious-than-Twain
Dickens:
Of the monstrous neglect of education in England,...private schools
long afforded a notable example....Any man who had proved his unfitness
for any other occupation in life, was free, without examination or qualification,
to open a school anywhere. (1838-1839/1983, p. xxi)
Happily, for the sake of addressing this
essay's important title,
Schoolmasters, as a race, were...blockheads and imposters...Yorkshire
schoolmasters were the lowest and most rotten round in the whole ladder[:]
ignorant, sordid, brutal men, to whom few considerate persons would
have entrusted the board and lodging of a horse or a dog; they formed
the worthy cornerstone of a structure...rarely... exceeded in the world.
(p. xxi)
Dickens the great dairy farmer of all time
gives us cream of all creamy things: Mr. Wackford Squeers. Disregard the
rhyme with tears. This man of stature pristine had but one eye, and the
popular prejudice runs in favour of two. The eye he had was unquestionably
useful, but decidedly not ornamental:
being of a greenish grey, and in shape resembling the fan-light of
a street door. The blank side of his face was much wrinkled and puckered
up, which gave him a very sinister appearance, especially when he smiled,
at which times his expression bordered closely on the villainous. His
hair was very flat and shiny, save at the ends, where it was brushed
stiffly up from a low protruding forehead, which assorted well with
his harsh voice and coarse manner. He was about two or three and fifty,
and a trifle below the middle size; he wore a white neckerchief with
long ends, and a suit of scholastic black; but his coat sleeves being
a great deal too long, and his trousers a great deal too short, he appeared
ill at ease in his clothes, and as if he were in a perpetual state of
astonishment at finding himself so respectable. (1838-1839/1983, p.
31)
Doubtless you're itchy to see this master
of his craft in action. Perhaps you're excited to read the words penned
by such a great explainer of bad examples as Charles Dickens. How he wrote
about fathers who neglected their children and wives, polygamy not therein!
How he neglected his own wife and children, writing, writing, reciting,
and acting in and directing plays! He knew a bad example and all it stood
for as largely as Mr. Pickwick's belly stood for largeness.
Mr. Squeers looked at the little boy to see whether he was doing anything
he could beat him for. As he happened not to be doing anything at all,
he merely boxed his ears, and told him not to do it again. (p. 32)
Later, after further abuse,
The little boy screwed a couple of knuckles into each of his eyes and
began to cry, wherefore Mr. Squeers knocked him off the trunk with a
blow on one side of his face, and knocked him on again with a blow on
the other. (p. 32)
What an extraordinary example! But just as
Nicholas Nickleby has its Wackford, Hard Times has its Thomas.
The Wonderful Mr. Thomas Gradgrind (Another
Great Example)
Wackford may take the prize for passion,
but Thomas, Mr. Thomas Gradgrind, deserves the prize for mathematical
exactitude. A man after rulers and intersecting lines, he reminded all
who needed reminding--and so many do!--about the fundamentals of education:
What I want is Facts. Teach these boys and girls nothing but Facts.
Facts alone are wanted in life. Plant nothing else, and root out everything
else. You can only form the minds of reasoning animals upon Facts:
nothing else will ever be of any service to them. This is the principle
on which I bring up my own children, and this is the principle on which
I bring up these children. Stick to the Facts, sir! (Dickens, 1854/1981,
p. 1)
Unencumbered by nuisance rhetoric, complaint, and unlettered
mouths of argument, Mr. Gradgrind speaks with that grand sort of authority
that swayed the French, swayed the Germans, and swayed the Babylonians
too.
Thomas Gradgrind, sir. A man of realities. A man of facts and calculations.
A man who proceeds upon the principle that two and two are four, and
nothing over, and who is not to be talked into allowing for anything
over....Thomas Gradgrind. With a rule and a pair of scales and the multiplication
table always in his pocket, sir, ready to weigh and measure any parcel
of human nature, and tell you exactly what it comes to. It is a mere
question of figures, a case of simple arithmetic. (Dickens, 1854/1981,
p. 2)
He taught without the ooze of nonsense, without
the insensible mutterings of brains bouncing about in confounded imaginings.
He taught, and by that I mean that he truly taught the "little pitchers
before him, who were to be filled so full of facts" (p. 2). How that
reminds me of the formalistic system that choked, I mean nourished, me!
That system glorified the fill 'em fill 'em fill 'em up with facts method
of teaching (Barman & Sutherland, 1995).
Does Gradgrind's philosophical premise truly
warrant our attention? Who could answer but yes when confronted with such
outstanding examples as this?
"Bitzer," said Thomas Gradgrind. "Your definition of
a horse."
"Quadruped. Graminivorous. Forty teeth, namely, twenty-four grinders,
four eye-teeth, and twelve incisive. Sheds coat in the spring; in marshy
countries, sheds hoofs, too. Hoofs hard, but requiring to be shod with
iron. Age known by marks in mouth." (Dickens, 1854/1981, p. 4)
Need I say more. Bitzer the protege for Gradgrind
the mentor. Herein this wonderful 1854 example lies a model for us to
apply all these years later in 2003. And here is another model.
The Fiery, but Effective, Mr. Creakle
(yet another great example)
In my exquisite quest to locate the teacher
extraordinaire, I discover Salem House, the residential school of David
Copperfield, who, in first person, expertly describes the schoolroom:
as the most forlorn and desolate place I had ever seen. I see it now.
A long room with three long rows of desks, and six of forms, and bristling
all round with pegs for hats and slates. Scraps of old copy-books and
exercises litter the dirty floor. Some silkworms' houses, made of the
same materials, are scattered over the desks. Two miserable little white
mice, left behind by their owner, are running up and down a fusty castle
made of pasteboard and wire, looking in all the corners with their red
eyes for anything to eat. A bird, in a cage very little bigger than
himself, makes a mournful rattle now and then in hopping on his perch,
two inches high, or dropping from it; but neither sings nor chirps.
There is a strange unwholesome smell upon the room, like mildewed corduroys,
sweet apples wanting air, and rotten books. There could not well be
more ink splashed about it, if it had been roofless from its first construction,
and the skies had rained, snowed, hailed, and blown ink through the
varying seasons of the year. (Dickens, 1850/1985, pp. 129-130)
What a glorious setting for Mr. Creakle,
a former hop-dealer turned proprietor of Salem House, to train his mind
and heart for educating all the young and stupid:
This genius of single-minded thinking and
prudent discipline entered as a man of quality should enter any room:
A profound impression was made upon me, I remember, by the roar of
voices in the schoolroom suddenly becoming hushed as death when Mr.
Creakle entered after breakfast, and stood in the doorway looking round
upon us like a giant in a story-book surveying his captives. (p. 140)
He wasted no time informing the students
about the proper, efficient road to a valuable education:
"Now, boys, this is a new half [semester]. Take care what you're
about, in this new half. Come fresh up to the lessons, I advise you,
for I come fresh up to the punishment. I won't flinch. It will be of
no use your rubbing yourselves; you won't rub the marks out that I shall
give you. Now get to work, every boy!"...
Half the establishment was writhing and crying, before the day's work
began; and how much of it had writhed and cried before the day's work
was over, I am really afraid to recollect, lest I should seem to exaggerate.
I should think there never can have been a man who enjoyed his profession
more than Mr. Creakle did. He had a delight in cutting at the boys,
which was like the satisfaction of a craving appetite. (p. 141)
Exceptional. Notice the lack of neuro-space
for creative thought? I applaud Mr. Creakle.
But disregard for creativity in students
could reach new heights of achievement through direction from one of the
last century's greatest minds, although his brain contained about the
same mass of grey things as other men's brains. Isaac Asimov, scientist,
Nobel Prize recipient, and author of too many books worth reading, presents
the value of mechanical teachers--robots, I think--like no other flesh
and blood has.
Mechanical Teachers--What a Splendid Idea
In the year 2155, eleven-year-old Margie always hated school, but now
she hated it more than ever. The mechanical teacher had been giving
her test after test in geography and she had been doing worse and worse
until her mother had shaken her head sorrowfully and sent for the County
Inspector...
The Inspector had smiled after he was finished and patted her head.
He said to her mother, "It's not the little girl's fault, Mrs.
Jones. I think the geography sector was geared a little too quick. Those
things happen sometimes. I've slowed it up to an average ten-year level.
Actually, the over-all pattern of her progress is quite satisfactory."
And he patted Margie's head again.
Margie was disappointed. She had been hoping they would take the teacher
away altogether. (Asimov, 1975, p. 123)
The beauty of robots, of course, is in their
placement. Put them where you like:
Margie went into the schoolroom. It was right next to her bedroom,
and the mechanical teacher was on and waiting for her. It was always
on at the same time every day except Saturday and Sunday, because her
mother said little girls learned better if they learned at regular hours.
The screen was lit up, and it said: "Today's arithmetic lesson
is on the addition of proper fractions. Please insert yesterday's homework
in the proper slot.
Margie did so with a sigh. (p. 125)
I cannot fully describe the excitement I
feel from these accounts. I feel a breath of fresh air in my lungs, enriched
haemoglobin in my blood, neurotransmission off the scale. I cannot stop
the momentum of my learning how to teach badly. Consider the goal
of completely misunderstanding children. Consider the private nurse of
five-year-old Tommy, who is playing in his nursery.
The Value of Misunderstanding Children
Tommy had invited little Jenny over to play. Nurse brought
her in. Tommy and Jenny gazed at each other for some minutes with sparkling
eyes. Neither smiled, but it seemed that both were about to smile.
Tom...ran round the table, sat down on the floor and began
to play with a clockwork engine on a circular track. The little girl climbed
on a tricycle and pedalled round the floor. "I can ride your bike,"
she said.
Tom paid no attention. He was trying how fast the engine
could go without falling off the track.
The little girl took a picture book, sat down under the
table with her back to Tom, and slowly, carefully, examined each page.
(Cary, 1951/1966, p. 129)
My joy for this example can now fully come
to life: The nurse comes in and misinterprets the situation in a gloriously
complete sense; she chastises Tommy for not playing with Jenny (although
they certainly have been playing, as far as they are concerned) and embarrasses
him beyond his self control. He then cries out, "I hate her--I never
wanted her" which successfully creates further problems.
Now consider the damage a single teacher
of a class of, um, 25 could do by simply misunderstanding the whole lot.
But I must add that as noble a cause misunderstanding students remains,
helping them feel pushed aside has its merit too.
Help Them Feel Pushed Aside
This, in an egg shell, can work wonders. Wilfred Pelletier explains:
I remember going to a PTA meeting together with some Indian friends
in a large white community. They were serving a big lunch and we were
fairly close to the beginning of the line-up because we happened to
be talking near the table where the food was served. What happened was
that we ended up at the end of the line. I don't know how we got there,
but people just moved right in and we found ourselves going back, back,
back, until finally we were right out of the hall, at the far end of
the auditorium and we were standing there talking. Now we got pushed
there, we didn't move back there. People got in front of us, so we backed
up....
This happens to Indian kids all the time.... (1982, p. 162)
With a bit of creative extrapolation, we
could take this event into the classroom to help not just Aboriginals
feel pushed out, but to help everybody feel that way. I want to
thank Pelletier for his experience. He has been a big asset.
Teaching Styles, Learning Styles, and
Collateral Damage
The point, really, resides in our affecting
as many children as possible. To adversely affect a minority without engulfing
the whole lot will only discourage the teacher trying to make good use
of this essay. But reasonableness needs a voice here. No teacher can be
perfect, born with imperfect genes hollering at every step he or she takes
(New World Translation, Psalm 51:5) Therefore, if our teaching
style actually works for a minority, so be it.
Wilson and Fleming (2002 ) speak about More's
learning styles that range from global to analytic, from impulsive to
reflective, from trial-and-error to watch-then-do, and from concrete to
abstract. Let me put that in another egg shell: If each continuum, say,
ranges from -5 to +5, and if I assemble a four-dimensional model, with
the x-axis for global to analytic, with the y-axis for impulsive to reflective,
with the z-axis for trial-and-error to watch-then-do, and with the w-axis
(which doesn't actually exist in view of our only-three-dimensional universe)
for concrete to abstract, then a learner with a learning style of, say,
x = 3, y = -2, z = 4, and w = -5, mathematically described as a (3, -2,
4, -5), who is coupled with a poor bloke of a teacher whose teaching style
actually amounts to a (3, -2, 4, -5) inevitably will find this mix works
very well (Lukiv, 2001). Too bad--aye?
In war there exists acceptable limits for
collateral damage. In all fairness, if collateral damage may exist in
war, then acceptable limits for teacher failure must exist in education.
What I mean to say is if a (3, -2, 4, -5)-teacher reaches a (3, -2, 4,
-5)-student, but manages to frustrate and even exasperate all the rest
of his or her students, then we should call that teacher successful. That
(3, -2, 4, -5)-student is collateral damage, as inevitable in education
as blowing up the wrong building is in war.
I hope this relaxes teachers devoted to one
particular teaching style, unless, of course, that style appeals to many
of his or her students. In that case, the teacher has serious problems
that may require a special workshop. For example, if that teacher has
many Aboriginals in his or her class, then he or she would want to employ
an impulsive rather than reflective teaching style that encourages impulsive
thinking, because Aboriginals tend to prefer reflection to impulsion (Wilson
& Fleming, 2002).
The Power and Beauty of Irrelevancy
Another workshop that could help teachers
in general should imprint the need for irrelevancy. Relevancy in education
only serves to encourage students to remain in school (Raptis & Fleming,
2002). Preparing students for the world of work and further education
will only serve to increase that sense of relevancy (Fleming & Post,
2002). I propose an end to such foolishness. Jonathan Swift, who wrote
pretty good although I disagree with the odd apple of satire that he sneakily
inserted into that pie he called Gulliver's Travels, finally got
serious when he took Gulliver on a trip to to "the grand Academy
of Lagado" (1826/1985, p. 223). As the following excerpt shows, who
needs relevancy when we have cucumbers and sunshine?:
The first man I saw was of a meagre aspect, with sooty hands and face,
his hair and beard long, ragged and singed in several places. His clothes,
shirt, and skin were all of the same colour. He had been eight years
upon a project for extracting sunbeams out of cucumbers, which were
to be put into vials hermetically sealed, and let out to warm the air
in raw inclement summers. He told me, he did not doubt in eight years
more, that he should be able to supply the Governor's gardens with sunshine
at a reasonable rate. (pp. 223-224)
In short, teachers, preferably of strange
looks and demeanour, who fill their classes with boxes of cucumbers and
visions of sunbeams, and lessons thereof, will do their profession justice.
I predict, not too impulsively I hope, that students of such teachers
will find such ample irrelevancy that long before the cucumbers rot and
the classrooms fill up with hungry flies, the groans of those students
will fill the halls of academia with such song that would rival the efforts
of John, Paul, Ringo, and George.
Now I want to speak about
The Gratifying Effects of Insulting Children
Insulting students, too, has its place in
school. The effects are so gratifying that no teacher worth his salt as
a Grecian slave should overlook its power. Consider Hooper Quirk, a boy
orange from eating too many carrots, during his first day at school:
Hooper [the new student] quietly settled into a cold, empty desk. He
sniffed the air. It smelled like sweat. He noted sagging shelves of
books that towered up dark walls. A paper air plane soared across the
room, landing in his ear.
Miss Snapdragon entered. She used the same red door that Hooper had
used, but she slammed it shut.
The students, including a boy munching a daddy-long-legs, swung around
in their desks, facing her.
"My word," Hooper thought. "She's as skinny as a Zulu
warrior, and she has a lump of brown hair like an upside-down hornet's
nest."
"Good morning!" she exclaimed.
"Good morning, Miss Snapdragon," many droned.
"Where's my new student?" She spied the rows. "Aha!
There you are. You look awfully old to be in grade one, Hooper Quirk."
He tried to swallow; he couldn't.
"You're as orange as a carrot," she said. "And you have
cauliflower ears."
Hooper felt them. How hot they'd become!
"I'll bet they call you Hooper the Pooper," said a boy with
a square face.
Many giggled.
"What's that?" Miss Snapdragon said, scanning the children,
like a Roman general scanning slaves. "Children who get out-of-hand
write LINES." And she glared at Hooper as if he were the cause
of all her problems.
"Hooper the Pooper," the square-faced boy said again, but
quietly.
Many stifled giggles.
"People and vegetables should be separate!" announced Miss
Snapdragon. "Why are you here?"
"I--I want to be a martian," Hooper replied.
The class roared with laughter.
"Quiet!" Miss Snapdragon stepped forward. "That's BETTER.
Now--why do you want to be a martian?"
"I want to be green."
The next rock-slide of laughter was too much. Out of the school Hooper
ran.
"Come back here!" she ordered.
But he kept on running.
Miss Snapdragon demanded quiet; the children laughed harder.
"One hundred LINES for EVERYBODY!" she yelled. "You
BRATS!" (Lukiv, 1997, 1998, 1999, Chapters 5 & 6).
Miss Snapdragon, I'm happy to say, completely appreciated that scene,
as the following excerpt shows:
Miss Snapdragon, in her living- room, poured a glass of pepper juice,
and grumbled:
"I hate children!" She placed the crystal juice decanter
back in her dusty china cabinet. "I hate the way they cough and
burp."
"Brats!" She settled down between lumpy cushions on a love
seat. "That rotten child," she said. "Hooper the Pooper!
Ha! He has ears like a cauliflower. Ha!" She swatted a horsefly
in midair. It crashed on the wood-stove, twitched on its back, and began
to smoke. And she remembered telling Hooper that people and vegetables
should be separate. "Haaaaaa!"
A splash of pepper juice tumbled into her windpipe. Her chest burned.
Awkwardly, she placed the glass on a rosewood table, trying to compose
herself. But coughs shot up her windpipe, like Roman candle-fireballs.
(Lukiv, 1997, 1998, 1999, Chapter 31)
My hat's off to Miss Snapdragon. She understands
the importance of more than insulting students. She has nurtured an exemplary
attitude deep within her core--an attitude that keeps her coming back
day after day to those students that cringe and gulp and shudder. Notably,
she has avoided what some call the bla, bla, bla.
Beware of the Bla, Bla, Bla
All in all, then, this essay sets the record
straight when people like Selma Wassermann say:
[1. The Master Teacher] communicates a genuine prizing and valuing
of the student. (1987, p. 178)
[2.] The student does not have to be concerned about defending himself
against ridicule, belittlement or rejection. There is a deep respect
for the dignity of the learner--for his individuality, for his capacity,
for his gifts, for his right to make choices--and there is also a sensitivity
to the needs, problems and feelings of the student. (p. 178)
[3.] The student experiences this teacher not as an "all-knowing
sage" but as a resource person who has faith and trust in the learner's
ability. While in almost every sense the [Master Teacher] is a model
to the learner, the message communicated to the learner is that he is
free to develop his own unique style. (p. 178)
[4. The Master Teacher] not only provides for the development of knowledge
and skill, but he does this in such a way that enables the learner
to move to higher positions on the continuum of personal autonomy. (p.
178)
She goes on and on with this stuff. Bla,
bla, bla, bla. Bla. But a little flick of the wrist, a little slight of
hand, a little rabbit from a top hat, and we have some truly useful tenets:
[1. Never] communicate a genuine prizing and valuing of the student.
(p. 178.)
[2.] The student [should always] have to be concerned about defending
himself against ridicule, belittlement or rejection. There is [absolutely
no need for] respect for the dignity of the learner--for his individuality,
for his capacity, for his gifts, for his right to make choices--and
there is also [absolutely no need for] sensitivity to the needs, problems
and feelings of the student. (p. 178)
[3.] The student experiences this teacher as an "all-knowing sage"
[and] as a resource person who has [zero] faith and trust in the learner's
ability. While in almost every sense the [teacher here defined] is a
model to the learner, the message communicated to the learner is that
he is [certainly not] free to develop his own unique style. (p.
178)
[4. The teacher positively should not] provide for the development
of knowledge and skill, [and] he does this in such a way that discourages
the learner to move to higher positions on the continuum of personal
autonomy. (p. 178)
Now we're getting somewhere. My altered-ego
in that alternate universe would leap for joy reading such magnificent
direction.
More Bla, Bla, Bla
To please this altered-ego, this professional,
even further, I must present my (2001) Principles of Instruction as follows
1. I choose methods that my experience says will work on an individual
basis according to what I perceive as the educational and socio-emotional
needs of each student.
2. I choose methods that show respect and concern for, and that value,
the student, reinforcing for the student that his or her individuality
and learning style, providing they don't encroach of the rights of others,
are important.
3. I choose methods that adequately prepare a student for his or her
career path. If that means providing a rigorous learning experience
that enables a student to score high on government exams, so that he
or she may enter a prestigious university, then I provide such.
4. I choose methods that allow for negotiation between myself and student
and that keep the dignity of both intact.
5. I choose methods that enable the student to acquire skills as a
lifelong learner. (p. 36)
In a much more useful form:
1. The teacher should not choose methods that could work on an individual
basis according to what the teacher perceives as the educational and
socio-emotional needs of each student.
2. The teacher should not choose methods that show respect and concern
for, and that value, the student. The teacher should not reinforce for
the student that his or her individuality and learning style are important.
But if the student's individuality or learning style does encroach on
the rights of others, that is fine.
3. The teacher should not choose methods that adequately prepare a
student for his or her career path. That means: Do not provide a rigorous
learning experience that enables a student to score high on government
exams. The point: Why bother?
4. The teacher should not choose methods that allow for negotiation
between himself/herself and student, and should not bother about the
student's dignity.
5. The teacher should not choose methods that enable the student to
acquire skills as a lifelong learner.
That written, I'm getting hungry.
Malnutrition, an Ally
Writing down such important thoughts for
the benefit of those this essay will greatly benefit has worn me down
a bit. But that is fine because the rumblings in my tummy remind me of
another area of concern in education:
It is a sad truth that we cannot hope to accomplish the goals we want
for our children in their brave new world of the future if we ignore
their very real, present physical needs. A modern, well-planned educational
facility filled with the best human and technological resources cannot
stimulate the intellectual development of children who constantly live
a marginal or semimarginal existence in terms of nutrition. (Widmer,
1974, p. 18)
Poverty creates a multitude of stresses for
families and their school-aged children (Fleming & Yesman, 2001),
and one of the problems these children can face is malnutrition. Many
children come to school without eating breakfast and without taking a
lunch to school. The thing to do about this problem is ignore it. In general,
unless the odds defy logic, as they, regrettably, sometimes do, these
children will do terrible in school even if given an excellent teacher.
Think of your success with them if you are a truly rotten teacher. Think
of it. These children are potential, maybe even inevitable, drop outs.
Therefore, do not implement breakfast or lunch programs for the needy;
the results will be most undesirable.
Note: I mentioned even if given
an excellent teacher. That may have caused the reader some alarm.
I'll silence the alarm quickly.
Remove 90% and Down Crashes the Tower
An experienced teacher once said, "Good
teaching is not a matter of specific techniques or styles, plans or actions....Teaching
is primarily a matter of love" (as qtd in Set the Pattern for
You, 2002, p. 10). In fact, I firmly believe good teaching is about
90% love and 10% skill. Now, think about this: Remove 90% of the tower,
and down it crashes. By simply removing the 90% love even an excellent
teacher with a great repertoire of skills and methods will quickly deflate
into a terrible teacher. I had to say that, and now I feel much better.
I hope any alarm is mute now.
Another problem, besides good teaching, is
savvy.
Savvy is for Foxes
A teacher who models savvy to students teaches
them, in effect, how to survive adverse conditions, how to sum up people
and situations, and how to cut losses and make do with what's left. Savvy
is fine for foxes, but as far as this essay is concerned, savvy is a dangerous
commodity.
Successful people in all walks of life seem to have a characteristic
that can be labeled "savvy" or "street smarts."
They are not only intelligent, they are shrewd, canny,
sharp, cunning, and perceptive. They have learned
to read the environment and to manipulate it in order to achieve their
legitimate academic ends. They use facts but are not constrained by
them and they refuse to view factual data as immutable [horrors for
Mr. Gradgrind!], tending instead to challenge existing dogma. As thinkers,
they recognize to cadence of their own "drummer" when they
hear it but are realistic enough to know when it isn't expedient to
march to its beat! Finally, street smart people have the self-knowledge
to capitalize on their strengths and compensate for their weaknesses
and seem to have a knack for finding the right people to help them along
their way. (Hawley, 1993, p. 12)
Don't be one of those right people and don't
allow students to gather "street smarts." They are liable to
end up on honor or principal's rolls. The best plan is to keep students
disoriented, confused, even jumpy. That is why block systems of classes
in which students have up to eight different teachers, each with rules
often uniquely different from other teachers, is superior to the community
setting of few teachers with a unified set of rules that promote a family
sense and feelings of well-being (Kohn, 1996).
Yes, don't be one of those right people,
one of those teachers who truly helps students, and--don't apply all the
information of this essay only to have your efforts swept away by fire.
Remember That Cement, Stones, and Bricks
Don't Burn
What I mean to say is teachers can benefit
their students only if they have a place--a classroom--to teach in. Schools
built with combustible materials present problems. In the last 25 years
in one Canadian northern city, three schools have burned to the ground.
What a colossal frustration for a teacher to learn the principles of this
essay only to find him/herself with no place to apply his/her art and
craft. The waste, the waste, the waste:
The air above the slanted shingle roof was dancing as if it were summer
[instead of -25 in December]. Before the [fire] hoses were working the
bell tower tipped and disappeared into the fire below. The flames stood
straight in the air, and the water the firemen aimed at them fell back,
cascaded down the slant of the hot roof, slid across the windows and
froze....The brown-stained shingled building became an ice palace....
[Soon] flames rose thick into the black air....Timbers cracked fast
down a bass scale and then there was a sound like a giant drum being
hit hard by something wet. The roof collapsed inward. Then the windows
along the near side [near the crowd] exploded: glass and ice floated
for a long moment in the air....The firemen and their helpers ran backwards
across the ice they had made with the spray from their hoses. (Harlow,
1988, pp. 8-9)
Schools should stand non-combustible in their
cement or stone or brick shells, and should be walled, floored, and roofed
with at least fire resistant materials. Then the studious teacher zealous
to apply this essay will rejoice over the daily opportunities to make
the lives of his or her students truly miserable.
Conclusion
If you can't be a Squeers, a Gradgrind, or
a Creakle, then don't give up hope. Your altered-ego existence can nourish
itself on the many thoughts of this essay about: the great uses of mechanical
teachers that wonderfully de-humanize learning; the value of misunderstanding
children; the deliciously awful effect on learning when teaching styles
and learning styles don't match; the gold mine of irrelevancy; the artful
trick of insulting children; the ease of turning sound direction into
its complete opposite; the role of hunger as friend; the foolishness of
love; the danger of savvy; and the importance of schools not burning down.
Armed with this information, an alternate universe teacher could live
a life satisfied and productive.
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