Life is a Job

From the New York Times,  Our Mommy Problem., by a woman who objects to random adults addressing her as "Mom".   As usual, the comments are more interesting than the article. I was struck by this one:

Bismarck North Dakota

I am a Mom but also sooooooo much more - runner, spouse, head of a department at a Fortune 500 company, motherhood does not define me. I'm not up to my eyeballs in my kids stuff. I monitor their grades, their work and occasionally turn up at their athletic, dance and orchestra events. They are building their own lives with my and their Dad's support. The author hit the right tone - something has to change and it starts with us. We can take the conversation back and redefine ourselves as a mom, not as "Mom". This is the first salvo - thank you.

For this commenter, motherhood is a low-level managerial job. The mother's responsibility is to monitor her kids' performance and ensure that it's up to snuff. If their assessments are high, she's managed them well.

I see a lot of this where I live. The corporate paradigm is the filter through which we see the rest of life. School is a job for kids, which prepares them for adult jobs by forcing them to be show up on time, put in their hours (plus extensive overtime!), and get their paperwork filled out correctly and submitted to the appropriate supervisor. The kid who performs well at school is rewarded with a credential which will eventually result in a well-paid adult job.

In my high-achieving professional-class district, we have "good schools", which means that a lot of our kids go on to competitive colleges and high-salary jobs. Are the kids knowledgeable in real subjects, like math and history? Can they write clearly and intelligently? Are they happy? Do they have friends? Do they have a sense of purpose and meaning in their lives? Who the hell cares? All we need to know is the name of the highest-ranked college they got into and we know where they stand.

KIPP SLANT Redux

Through Katharine Beals' blog, Out in Left Field, I am once again thinking about KIPP schools, and trying to clarify my (extremely negative) reaction to them.

In Schools Matter: A Former KIPP Teacher Shares Her Story, I found the following poster, which is apparently common in KIPP schools:



(It's a bit hard to read; here's what it says.  In the first panel, a coach berates a student: "You ! ¿ a ! ".  In the second panel, the student thinks [sic]: "I won't be bad next time I will be better The coach can be mad so what I'll do better next time".   In the third panel, three smiley-type faces are shown with the captions "I feel okay", "I feel very angry!", and "I feel a little sad".  The "I feel okay" smiley has an arrow drawn to it.)

Here, kids are taught that it's OK if they get screamed at by a coach, or, by extension, a teacher, and that they shouldn't get sad or angry about it; they should tell themselves they feel OK and try to do better next time.  The message of the poster is that kids should accept abuse from those in authority.  (Elsewhere in our society, abusive coaches get fired.)

From an interview with a KIPP student in Schools matter: Why Students Call KIPP the Kids in Prison Program:

I had to sit like this. [demonstrates]

It’s called S.L.A.N.T.: Sit straight. Listen. Ask a question. Nod your head. Track. Track is, if the teacher is going that way you have to… [demonstrates] follow… If you didn't do that, they'll yell at you: "You're supposed to be looking at me!" [points to demerit sheet] "No SLANTing." They'll put that on there. 

If I got into an argument with a teacher, I would have to stand outside the classroom on the black line, holding my notebook out. [Stands up and demonstrates, holding arms out] I would have to stand there until they decided to come out. For 20 minutes, 30 minutes, sometimes they’ll forget you’re out there and you’ll be there the whole period –an hour and forty minutes standing. if you have necklaces you have to tuck them away so they can’t see them – or else they’ll have you write four pages of a sentence about KIPP – “I must follow the rules of the KIPP Academy” or “I must not talk” for four pages.

Here's the bottom line for me:  I don't like authoritarian schools.   I don't like schools that tell kids how to sit, what to wear, where they're allowed to look during class,  and how to walk in the hallway. I don't like schools that take over their students' lives through a long school day followed by enormous quantities of homework.

I wouldn't send my own kids to an authoritarian school, and I don't want to support authoritarian schools with my tax dollars.  I don't accept the values they teach, namely total compliance and unquestioning obedience.  I don't really care whether the kids at these schools do better on standardized tests, because the price is too high.  It's not worth higher test scores if children are being trained to accept abuse.

For that matter, I don't like schools that abuse their teachers.  KIPP schools routinely make their teachers work 90 hours a week.  Only young adults with no families of their own can handle the workload.  I've learned through experience that teachers who don't have their own kids are often much less sympathetic and understanding of the child's point of view, but these are the only teachers employed by KIPP.  

We need a humane society.  We can only achieve a humane society by treating all people humanely and with respect. This includes young people, female people, dark-skinned people, people whose first language is not English, employees, and everyone at the bottom of the totem pole.

Pointless Labor

The Nazis used to harass their prisoners of war by forcing them to move a large pile of rocks from one side of the exercise yard to the other, and then back again.  They understood how demoralizing it is to spend your days in pointless labor.

I am reminded of this watching my Older Daughter go through freshman year of high school.  So much of what she's asked to do is demonstrably pointless. 

In English, they read a book and then "analyze it to death", as she says.  They have to write essays about the books, but the process is drawn out step by step, every step analyzed and critiqued, either by the teacher or by other students.  The formula is so confining and unnatural that it's just about impossible to learn how to convey your thoughts on paper.  They aren't her thoughts any more after they've been extensively critiqued, and she can't convey them clearly and fulfill the teacher's formula at the same time.

In History, which is allegedly World History this year, they're doing some bizarre role-play of conflict resolution.  It's been going on for weeks.   OD is supposed to be writing up her notes on the process, but she's highly resistant.

And her teachers wonder why she's depressed!  The only way to get through this without depression is not to care whether your efforts have any larger purpose, or to accept that their sole purpose is to produce a transcript that might get you in to an exclusive college.

We're dragging OD through freshman year "like a thorn through a fleece", as the Yiddish saying goes.   Enough already. 

Learning to Take Tests

Two recent articles in the NYTimes caught my eye:

After Number of Gifted Soars, a Fight for Kindergarten Slots

and A New Kind of Tutoring Aims to Make Students Smarter.

The first article reports that nearly 5,000 children qualified as "gifted" in New York City this fall, more than double the number only 4 years ago.  It is now routine to prep 4-year-olds for the tests that bring this coveted label.

The second article reports on a booming new tutoring scheme, that aims to raise kids' performance on IQ tests. 

This is what education has become in our country.  It's all test prep, all the time.  It's not about inquiry or experiment or developing real interests or even about learning any particular subject matter.  It's about getting a good score on the test.  What the test measures is hardly even discussed; once a test is out there, the race is on for a good score.  

Education has become a kind of sport.  It's all about competition; sorting winners from losers.

Anyone who truly cares about learning is out of luck. 

Bullying in Medical School

In the New York Times, "The Bullying Culture of Medical School".

The moral of the story is that once a bullying culture has been established, it is exceedingly difficult to fix. Human beings have a way of justifying, and carrying on, whatever happened to them, no matter how negative it was.

Attributing Motives to Kids

Over on Jessica Lahey's blog, she's got a post about hubris. Among other things, she talks about the desire of kids to "test boundaries" and "challenge authority".

Well, maybe. I've been noticing lately that controlling, authoritarian teachers (and, doubtless, parents) are very quick to attribute these motives to kids, in almost any situation. One such teacher thought my daughter was being defiant when she had simply forgotten a trivial piece of her homework.

There's a narcissism at work here; like a certain type of vain, clueless man who thinks a woman is flirting with him even as she's walking away.

Jessica Lahey says:

I think students test their teachers because they know they are safe with the teachers who care about them. They push us away because they know we will still be here when they return to their senses.

Or perhaps these adolescent students, in the tricky phase between child and adult, are trying to establish a more equal relationship with an adult they care about. They won't manage it if the adult in question can only think in terms of "boundaries" and "authority".

Maybe that child who behaves in a way we don't like is "testing boundaries". On the other hand, maybe she's trying to tell us we've restricted her freedom too much. Maybe she's right.

Pajama Day?

Today is "Pajama Day" at Younger Daughter's public elementary school.  She actually doesn't have any pajamas -- she just sleeps in her clothes.  (So sue me!)  Sainted Husband dressed her in clothes that look as pajama-like as possible, and they were off to the bus stop this morning.

I really really don't get the point of Pajama Day, or Silly Hat day, or Wear Something Purple day.  I don't understand why people think it's fun or amusing, and I wouldn't have found it fun or amusing as a kid. 

Perhaps it's because I'm a nonconformist at heart, as are both of my kids, and these "let's all wear the same unusual clothing item" days are really about conformity. 

Nobody finds it fun or amusing if one kid decides to wear his pajamas to school; his parents would probably get an icy message from the school about appropriate dress.  No, it's only perceived as fun or amusing if the whole school does it together on the same day.

Bah, humbug! I say. 

Social Conformity is Overrated

(Another response to Chris' post at A Blog About School.)

I've often heard it said that conforming to the peer group is a natural developmental phase, especially for teenagers.  I can honestly say that this is one stage I missed entirely.  I can't remember a time when I wanted to be just like my peers.  There were certainly times when I wanted to be accepted by them, or at least not actively shunned.  But to fit in and be indistinguishable from the others?  Never.

Back when my older daughter was starting at her previous private school, I had a silly conversation with the then Head.  I said that I didn't want my daughter to be scolded or punished for unfinished or forgotten homework.  The Head said, "that's OK, when she sees that everyone else has done the homework, she'll feel left out and she'll want to do it too."  Likely story, I thought. 

A few days later my daughter told me how she had started school that day with unfinished homework and a note from me stating why.  One of the other kids asked her about it and she airily said, "oh, I've got a note from my Mom -- she doesn't believe in homework."  The other kid said, admiringly, "that's great!  I wonder if my Mom would write a note like that?"  From that moment my daughter's reputation among her peers soared.

Similarly, at my recent meeting with my younger daughter's teacher and the new Head at the same school (if you think you're confused, just consider my plight!), they started taking the line that they didn't want my daughter's behaviors to continue, because "she'll start to notice she's not like the other kids, and she'll feel bad."   Really?  I think my daughter is pretty comfortable being different, as she should be.  She's Asian in a majority white environment, so blending in isn't really an option for her.

Kids used to be told to resist peer pressure, on the theory that it led to drug use.  Now educators hold up conformity as the ultimate goal that everyone agrees to.  What gives?

Cultural Change

(This is a partial response to Chris' posts about conformity and compliance at A Blog About School.)

I grew up in a time when Americans were encouraged to see themselves as rugged individualists, living in a country whose gift to humanity was the freedom and independence of each person.  Unquestioning obedience and conformity were associated with our enemies, like Nazi Germany and Soviet Russia.  People in power were looked at with suspicion. 

What happened?
  

The Overt Curriculum

We've all heard of the "hidden curriculum", the stuff that schools genuinely care about teaching: conformity, unquestioning obedience, the surrender of family life to the demands of the institution .  I believe it is no longer accurate to call this curriculum "hidden".  We should call it the "overt curriculum", or, in some schools, the "only curriculum".  We  should let kids major in the important subjects like "Sleep Deprivation", "Busywork Completion", "Erasure of Personal Life",  and "Random Factoid Upchuck".

I've noticed that teachers increasingly make no distinction between learning actual subjects and learning how to do school.   Getting Mom's signature has the same importance as working actual math problems.  Classroom rules are included on the science (!) test.   You know you're in trouble when the teacher claims to teach "responsibility" and "time management".

What would school look like if the goal was to teach actual subjects in the most efficient, streamlined way possible?  I'd like to find out.

Maybe the kid isn't the problem

"It is not very productive to drive a child to anger or depression, and then blame him for being angry or depressed. But that is what schools do. Bad teachers do this, and then principals back them up." -- Guy Strickland, Bad Teachers

Suppose you have a 1st-grade child who has trouble sitting still, being quiet, and doing what she's told. Does the child have a problem which needs to be treated with drugs or behavior management? Or does the school have unreasonable expectations of very young children?

Suppose you have a 7th-grade child who doesn't always turn in his homework consistently or on time. Does the child have a problem which needs to be treated with drugs or behavior management? Or does the school have unreasonable expectations of young adolescents?

"Shifting the blame onto a child's shoulders is the work of a bully. It is, perhaps consequently, a technique more commonly used than parents may think." -- Guy Strickland, op. cit.

It is distressing to me to see how often parents just accept whatever the school demands. Schools are not infallible, and they are not beyond question. They are social constructs that change with the times. We all know that schools are different (in my opinion, even worse) than they were in our own childhoods. The curriculum has been pushed younger and younger (kindergarten is the new first grade) and the pressure to perform has been increased.

Parents, please, before you accept that your child has the diagnosis du jour (attention deficit disorder, executive function deficit) question the school. Does the school have reasonable expectations of children at their various ages and stages? Is the work the school assigns useful for your child? Are the rules and regulations actually necessary, or are they the product of control freaks and petty tyrants?

Teachers and administrators want to live in a world where the school does what it does, and it's up to kids (and their mothers) to fall into line. But there's no reason we have to accept that. Maybe your kid has a problem, and maybe the problem is a bad school.