My Pretend Ideal School

What follows is my attempt at thinking about a way to "do" school in America without all the annoying assanine problems we have right now. I was so hopeful that the nice-sounding mission of Common Core was going to be awesome, but its implementation has proven to be far less than promised. And the College Board--don't even get me started. So how would I--a highly educated mother of three very motivated students--structure the school system?

First, we need to think about the point of education. I have a bias about this, so let's get it out there right up front. I believe education is supposed to produce an educated population, one that can think critically and analytically, one that can discern mumbo jumbo on Fox from actual news, one that understands other cultures and governments, one that has a broad range of culture literacy. I don't think education is there to prepare people for jobs or whatever. A well-educated populace will be prepared for all kinds of things, jobs included.

My ideal school would be a free (no-tuition), private school, not subject to the rules of idiots who run the state department of education but who have never ever worked in the school system. I shall for the time being--since this is just a hypothetical school--invoke the debater's method of fiat for funding. In other words, for the sake of argument, we'll assume there will be funding for this idea. (I mean, why get bogged down in reality?)

Admission to the school will be based primarily on the student's willingness to abide by the standards of the school--such as no bullying, respect for self and others, self-motivation, etc. Under no circumstances will socio-economic status be a deterrent to admission, nor any other factors such as race, parental involvement, etc. In fact, the goal will be to provide the most diverse population possible and to have an atmosphere that welcomes and respects all people from any race, religion, gender identification, neighborhood, nationality, and any other factors that are commonly used to exclude.

The curriculum at this school will be written by the teachers, not a corporation. For now, let's pretend it's K-12, although some of my ideas might be best only as you get into the high school years. Every student will take Latin from the very beginning. Until they leave. Yes, it's a dead language, but the skills learned by studying Latin serve the mind well in conquering a whole host of other things, such as our own language, logic, etc. Every student will also take another foreign language. It doesn't have to be the same one from k-12, but each language should be studied for a minimum of three years to achieve some basic level of fluency.

The rest of the coursework will be very rigorous--really. Not the way Common Core promised to be rigorous. Students will be expected, say through the course of high school, to study the history of the world, not just western civilization, but also Asian history, African history, and South American history. Same with literature. In fact, ideally, all courses would be aligned so that students are studying the period of history and literature and science together. Writing well shall be emphasized across all subjects.

The emphasis of this school will be on classic education: language, history, math, literature, science, art and music. There will not be vocational programs. All courses will be the same for every student, based on the idea that all students are equally capable of mastering all subjects. Some may need more time, and the structure of the school will allow for that. Students who are able to progress more quickly may do so, and thus take higher level courses. There will be daily time for physical activity, whether you want to call it recess, PE, or whatever. It will focus on activities that might be life-long joys, whether team sports, or solitary running, hiking, skiing, etc. I think religion class aimed at learning the basic tenants of all world religions (probably incorporated into history and literature) would be good. Not as evangelism, but as learning to understand the rest of humanity.

There will be NO standardized tests of any kind, and teachers will be encouraged to write tests that really test a student's mastery. No multiple-choice, but a combination of short answer, essay, and analysis. Nobody will learn to write 5-paragraph essays. They will learn to write cogent, thoughtful essays of a length necessary to state and support the thesis.

Grades will not be given. For the purpose of transcripts, grades will be recorded, but will not be released except for specific requests. The theory of this is that students will be putting forth their best efforts at all times, aiming for mastery of their subject, rather than trying to figure out what to put for an answer that will give them the best grade. Homework will be assigned solely for the purpose of practicing and repeating necessary skills, but not for a grade. Students will understand that doing homework will help them master the material faster.

Multi-age classes and subjects will be encouraged, as will collaboration between teachers to teach lessons that are coordinated with other subjects. Students reaching the necessary level of subject mastery may move on to the next level, whether it takes one quarter or three quarters to make that next level. I like a trimester system, because it allows for more intensive exposure to more subjects.

Teachers will be in charge of the school. There will be no administration making top-down decisions. (There will be administrative assistants doing the necessary tasks like attendance, record keeping, scheduling etc. Just not someone making decisions about the classroom.) Teachers will be like owners or shareholders of the school. All teachers will be hired based on creativity in teaching, years of experience, and knowledge of subjects. One would not have to be state certified to teach in this school, but would have to demonstrate a high level of skill in teaching and knowledge of the subject. At least one teaching assistant will be in each classroom. These will be hired from a pool of new college graduates and/or new to teaching professionals. All teachers will be expected to mentor the teaching assistants. All teachers will be expected to work in a highly collaborative capacity with fellow teachers, even co-teaching whenever possible and practical. Teaching assistants may move into teacher positions when they have received a certain level. I don't know what that would be. Maybe five years of assisting/being mentored before being eligible to be a full teacher.

To accommodate the additional time needed for assessment and administrative tasks asked of these teachers, one day a week will be given to teachers for collaboration, inservice education, and admin. That day will be one in which students will focus on individual studying, writing, presenting, under the supervision of the teaching assistants. Teaching assistants will also receive one day per week for in-depth learning experiences with mentor teachers.

The school day will start later than most schools now. Maybe 9:00 a.m. It will end later as a result. Probably around 4:00 or even 5:00. The school year will start in September, with three months in session and one-month breaks as follows: Sep/Oct/Nov will be first trimester. December: break. Jan/Feb/March is second trimester. April is break. May/June/July is third trimester. August is break. This kind of schedule avoids summer breaks that get way too long for most students I know who are highly motivated. It also allows plenty of time for extended family vacations. Students at the high school level may be encouraged to use their breaks for internships, self study, or even work. Those who plan to take SATs or ACTs or other tests (not required by the school) might use that time for study aimed at those tests. Perhaps, if parents were interested, special classes could be offered during breaks--to meet their childcare needs, mostly. Things kind of like summer or spring break day camps do now.

In this school, all teachers and other personnel will be paid a highly competitive salary. (Fiat on the funding, remember?) A professional level salary. For each year a teaching assistant stays, their salary will increase until they are eligible to be a full teacher. Full teacher pay will reward teachers for longevity, creativity, extra learning opportunities, and so forth. Maybe there will be some sort of master teacher levels that will allow for further pay increases. The idea being that teaching is one of the most important professions and should be paid accordingly, and in a professional manner.

I realize there are probably many practical and realistic issues with some of these ideas. This is just me, thinking of what sounds good. I welcome input and further discussion of these ideas and more. Because I'm really sick of the way it's been done for the last ten years. And I live in the best school district in the state. And I've been pretty happy with the education my kids received. But that has been a factor almost exclusively of having really fantastic teachers who teach for love and having really motivated, smart kids. All students should have teachers like the ones my kids have been fortunate enough to have had. And I think we need to put education back in the teachers' court. Train teachers through mentoring and expect high levels of work from our students.

Not an A Student

The end of the school year always comes with those assemblies where students get all kinds of awards. I remember when my kids were in elementary school, there were awards for perfect attendance. I always wondered how in the world that student was never sick, never had a dentist appointment, never had to take a day off to travel to see family for a holiday or special event. Was it really such an accomplishment?

I am not writing about our weird society that rewards kids for showing up and trying. Although that is a worthy topic of discussion, it’s not what I’m about today.

I’m here to talk about all the kids who don’t earn an award. Does that mean they are somehow less worthy of our acknowledgements?  I don’t think so. And I’m not here to laud the wonderful strength of students who, say, graduate despite all the odds against them, whatever they might be. I’m here to write about the ordinary kids who are usually not on anyone’s radar.

So, okay, I’m going to use my own son, Peter, as an example. Of course, I think Peter is extraordinary, but you don’t know him, so you probably don’t share my bias. There are a lot of qualities Peter has that make him awesome, but the ones I want to talk about today involve his attitudes toward school, learning, and matters of the mind.

As just a general example, Peter’s attitude about grades is approximately the opposite of most students I know. His belief is this: if he knows the subject matter, feels he has a reasonably good grasp and mastery of it, then he has no need to prove that to his teachers or his peers by jumping through what he sees as unnecessary hoops in order to get a good grade. To some, this might look like laziness. He doesn’t see any point in studying until 3:00 a.m. in order to get an A. He figures if he goes to class, pays attention, does his homework, and understands what he has learned, studying isn’t going to get him that much further. He knows what he knows. The end result of this attitude is that he doesn’t feel the need to do mindless extra credit work, doesn’t feel the need to do test corrections, doesn’t feel excessively compelled to turn in every last scrap of paper called homework.

Some parents would probably freak out over this. I mean, he doesn’t get straight A’s. Even though I’m pretty certain he could if he ramped up his effort the tiniest bit. He is wholly unmotivated by gold stars and letters on a transcript. But this doesn’t mean he is unmotivated. His motivation is internal, not external. I personally think this is a good thing. You know those job announcements that constantly want applicants who are self-motivated? Creative? Able to work without supervision? That’s Peter.

Sometimes Peter’s attitudes are at odds with his peers, which can tend to make him seem antisocial. For example, often in school, other students seem to be primarily interested in spending class time chatting, laughing, and generally not doing their work. (These are often, ironically, the same students who freak out if they don’t get a good grade and who stay up until 3:00 a.m. studying for a test.) Peter gets annoyed by these kids. He has said repeatedly that he wants to learn. He is there to learn. His motivation is not for the grade, but for the knowledge. One girl in his English class, for example, spent her class time applying fingernail polish. When Peter commented about this on a facebook post, she got upset because she felt he was calling her stupid. I think he just meant that he wanted to focus on class and the fumes from her nail polish made that difficult.

Then there’s English class. Peter is definitely a science geek, but he also has pretty good language and literature knowledge. When his class read Taming of the Shrew, he was the only one who had ever seen it produced. He was the only one who knew what the basic plot was. He was, from what I have heard, one of the few who was not completely freaked out by Elizabethan English. One of his English papers this year had to do with symbolism found in the piece of literature they were reading at the time.  Assignments like this frustrate the hell out of this kid. He doesn’t like to look at literature as “what is the author trying to say?” He would rather ask “what impact does this literature have on me?” (As an author and an English major, I wholeheartedly support this approach.) So in this particular paper, Peter quoted John Green, one of his favorite authors, who says when the author says the curtains are blue, he just means they are blue. He’s not trying to symbolize sadness or something. In short, Peter’s paper pretty much ignored the assigned task, but engaged in the literary work in a very real way, and for that he received 100%. Because he showed the teacher that he was actually thinking, and not just regurgitating what he thought she wanted to hear, he made a statement. The teacher could have easily given him a different grade because he didn’t really complete the assignment, but I give her credit for acknowledging that he had actually been more engaged in the assignment than anyone else in class.

Because of experiences like that, Peter has enjoyed his English class more than he expected to, despite the nail polish girl and the kids who wanted to watch videos rather than do work. While there are a lot of things I did not appreciate about this particular teacher, I think she did see that he was actually thinking about what they covered in class in a way that other kids weren’t.

Peter understands that if he wanted to, he could get straight A’s. And he knows that colleges will be looking at his GPA. And I’ve talked to him about how useful scholarships are for college. He may decide in the next school year that those rewards are worth jumping through a few more hoops than he might like. If not, he understands that certain doors may not open for him. Which is kind of sad for those on the other sides of the doors. I mean, if I were a college admissions officer of an elite science oriented school, I think I might be interested in a student who outfits his own personal chemistry lab at home for the summer, because he loves chemistry that much. I might want to encourage a student who thinks curiosity is the most important quality, because it leads to trying things in different ways until one gets the desired results.  I might find it interesting that this kid is learning a fictional language from a computer game, even creating clay tablets on which to write this language, not because he has to, but because he is fascinated by it. I might even want to invest scholarship money in someone who is so curious about life that he’d rather just learn than get a certain grade.

It reminds me of the joke my husband’s law school buddies used to tell, which bears a shocking truth. The A students became law professors—which doesn’t pay all that well. The B students became judges—again, not extremely high paying. And the C students became the litigators earning the big bucks. Now this is not to say that money is the end all. That is the last thing I’m about. However, it does pose an interesting idea. Being a C student doesn’t mean you won’t succeed. Book learning is not everything. (And yes, it feels somewhat blasphemous for me to say that, as the intellectual book geek that I am.) The practical ability to solve real-world issues is perhaps the greater good. And often, those people aren’t the ones earning all the top awards at end-of-year assemblies. They’re the ones quietly doing chemistry in their bedrooms over the summer. 

i don't know why i do these things

so today i had to get up early. on a saturday. me. not fun at all. mom had to practically force me out of bed. and of course my alarm didn't work. And why did i have to get up early you ask? to go take the sat subject tests, for absolutely no reason at all. NONE! none of the colleges i'm applying to require them or even mention them in their applications. But there i was at 8 in the morning being told to make sure to erase completely.

this wouldn't have been so bad, but the test was at Borah. no one likes Borah. i mean no one. And to boot, no, you can't go sit in the classroom before the test, you have to go sit in the cafeteria on the other side of the school until we tell you it's okay. Oh and in case you haven't been told enough times by now, don't bring your cell phone!

so after half an hour after the time we were supposed to start, we finally are all in the classroom. and what do you know, we get obnoxious kid. You. aren't. funny. get over it.

then the grueling test begins. math for starters. easy, but not when you can't remember how to do something and go about it the long way. And after that. oh! you get a five minute break! hope you don't have to go to the bathroom because if you're not back when my special little timer goes off your scores will be cancelled. Then comes...physics. ah, right at home. I was ready to dive into some simple kinematics problems and be done with time to spare. well, it wasn't all kinematics. it was also light, and electricity, and thermo. i learned thermo a year ago. i remember none of it. and as for the other stuff, i'm not entirely convinced i learned it in the first place.

so now it's over. i can go home and sleep. or other such nonsense. Oh, but wait! guy from physics you've never even spoken to before needs a ride! I'm always so surprised when people from school actually know who i am.

this is my college essay, tell me what you think

I want to be an astronaut, but I have no idea why. I read a book over the summer called Riding Rockets, the autobiography of astronaut Mike Mullane. In his astronaut interview he was asked “Why do you want to be an astronaut?” In the months since, I’ve thought a lot about how I would answer that. This is where the “no idea” part comes in.
When I was six years old, maybe even younger, my family went camping out in Bruneau Sand Dunes. They have a planetarium there and a telescope, the largest one in all of Idaho. I don’t remember much from the trip, but I do remember the planetarium, stars and a woman with a laser pointer connecting the stars. Most vividly I remember walking outside afterward, looking up at the sky, and finding the big dipper for the first time in my life.
Jump ahead seven years to May, 2006. I hadn’t thought about the stars the entire seven years. I came to school that day expecting it to be like any other day. I found myself sitting in eighth grade earth science preparing to watch another of Mr. Hunike’s infamous disaster documentaries. I was in for a surprise.
The screen lit up. “The future of space flight.” I was in heaven, my overactive imagination pulled along with the movie. Plasma jets taking us to Mars, solar sails propelling us almost at the speed of light. I found myself agreeing with everything the documentary said. Yes, yes. We NEED to do this. Yes, yes, spend the money. Nothing could have made me happier. I went home that day thinking nothing in me had changed. The video in Hunike’s class inspired me to write a story, nothing more nothing less. My parents bought me my first telescope the following Christmas.
It was the middle of the winter, but I was determined to use it. I asked my mom to hike up the hill near our house to where the skies were clear of trees. I set up the telescope in the dark and pointed it at the constellation of Orion. I looked and looked, and then…
“I found the Orion nebula, found the Orion nebula,” I sang in a catchy tune of my own inventing. It was a triumphant night in the land of Emily.
I’m not sure when it transformed from a love of astronomy to wanting to be an astronaut. But that goal now dominates my life. If most astronauts know how to fly, I’ll learn how to fly. If there are lots of Russian cosmonauts, I’ll take Russian. You say astronauts would build rockets in their back yard? Then I’ll build rockets in my back yard. If it gets me half an inch closer to space, I’ll do it. I am going to be an astronaut. The only question worth asking is how?