(arenthetica)s

The issues of the election of 1980 are still so intertwined with current politics and social issues that it provides a good history lesson for the relevance of the past. The conservative reaction to the dramatic social changes of the 1960s and 70s, and the counter reaction still clearly define what the media calls "the culture wars."

Discussing the social issues in class brought to prominence by Reagan's 1980 election is an open invitation to contemporary debate. Of the hot button issues of the time, liberalized divorce, violence and erotic content in the mainstream media, abortion and Roe v Wade, Supreme Court appointments, civil rights, privacy rights, tax policy (it's the same basic debate over C&D here in Colorado), military spending, historic high deficits . . . the list goes on . . . almost all remain highly contentious. The issue that students bring up and seems to generate the most passion is still the abortion/women's rights debate. Hands go up, as does the intensity of discussion and disagreement. Facilitating that debate often consists of challenging students to back up opinions with some kind of informed evidence. Statistics get thrown around without any basis. Appeal to emotion also runs rampant on both sides. And the intensity ratchets up another level.

It is a teaching moment for a history class, helping students to understand argument vs. opinion; helping to expose the logic and philosophical assumptions of the debate; putting the politics into context; demonstrating how to write a persuasive essay with evidence. But inside of that debate, unspoken, are often the personal stories and experiences of students that remain hidden, yet help explain the dynamics of the classroom. Each statement, argument, opinion, is in some way personal, and if filmed, would need a parenthetical subtitle to explain each in greater depth.

(According to Aage Hansen (1957) parenthetical phrases (and asides) may be characterized as "words, phrases, or sentences which are 'on another level' compared to the surroundings (sentence, utterance) in which they are inserted. These parenthetical phrases are spoken in a lower tone and/or with pauses preceding and following them.')

For example, James says, "I think it's all wrong." That vague statement needs an explanation. (X is wrong because of this, which has affected me personally by _____). And there are parentheticals that remain unspoken and sometimes deeply secret; ones that I cannot know, and probably never will.

Let me turn this abstract thinking into the concrete. The day after this discussion, I received an e-mail from our nurse noting, confidentially, yet not secretly, that one of the girls in my classroom that had participated in that debate is pregnant. (Now there are a few pregnant girls in my classes, most of whom I am aware of, but this had been a secret, and recent.) I wonder how she felt as students argued their positions and barked their opinions. We all know what it's like when people, unknowingly, talk about something and we know it applies to us. It is certainly an act of bravery on her part to have decided that it was better for people to know.

It behooves us all to keep in mind the unspoken and personal in a classroom--in a school--in fact, in almost any social setting, that everything said is followed and given meaning (by the unspoken and unknowable between the "( )").

Administrivia

Every day at school is a flurry of paper. Paper for permission. Paper for ins. Paper for outs. Paper for grades, and attendance, and grading, and confirmation, and memos, and test results, and e-mails, and course descriptions, and lesson plans, and . . .

What education needs is a Paperwork Reduction Act, like the one in 1980. The amount of paperwork can vary considerably from day to day. Several students are on attendance contracts, so that is a daily signature. Students withdraw and I need to send book number information and grade information--usually that day. Student athlete grades are often recorded or checked every week or so on paper, as well as every Wed. on the computer for those achieving low grades. Personal lesson plans need to be written down. I say personal here, because those are for my benefit. I'm lucky. At the elementary level, lesson plans are often required daily and have to be readily accessible. Ok, perhaps I am naive here, but do law firms require their experienced attorneys to outline every case before they actually get to work doing the case?

Much of the paperwork comes from the pressures around accountability. Everyone wants to CYA, all the way up the bureaucratic hierarchy. Bureaucracy isn't all bad, don't get me wrong. Some bureaucracy and documentation is necessary and useful. It just needs to be efficient and necessary and useful. Most of it usually isn't. I could fill file cabinets full of documents that I have submitted over the years that have never been looked at by another human being (myself included).

It is a mistake, however, to think that a "free market" model of education would overcome this bureaucracy. In fact, take a look at some corporations. The paperwork bureaucracy there is unbelievable. No one wants to be responsible, so documents flourish to provide cover. Bureaucracy isn't a structure or attached only to governmental entities, it is an attitude, promoted by legalism and a lack of confidence. Bureaucracies also don't have to be paper intensive. Bureaucracies are created to provide fair and equal access. Anything that doesn't accomplish that goal is inefficient. Bureaucracies, however, aren't reflective institutions, unless that is a clear expectation.

Paperwork reduction would increase the time available to plan, teach, deliver, and perform quality educational experiences. It would increase the time available to work with students individually. Time is the variable that is most limiting. Paperwork reduction in education really doesn't require an Act of Congress, it just requires the courage to trust.

Four California teachers had gathered one summer morning to listen to the principal of its neighboring school talk about yet another new “program from the state.” Ordinarily things are done to teachers; they get developed, in serviced, observed, evaluated, and regulated. All four of these teachers had survived dozens of other people’s ideas. Snatches of their conversation included, "Are you sure no suits' will come and stand in the back of my classroom?" "There'’ll be no outsiders at all? No stupid requirements?

That Landmine Thing

Today is a guest post by Eric, a student.

My name is Eric, and I suppose I will be guest-blogging for the day. I am an active member of the Landmines Task Force here at the school, and hopefully I can provide a little insight into what goes on. Today was a special day, as Zack Hudson, a representative of the UN, came by to speak with us about all that we have done. He seemed genuinely appreciative of our work and encouraged us to continue. It was particularly interesting to see that our work has not been going unnoticed, having been featured on an official Adopt-a-Mine Field promotional video as well as the That Landmine Thing newsletter.

Being new to the task force this year, I am surprised by the initiative of my fellow students, although I am aware of a few students who merely take part in the project to fulfill their community service requirements. (This is a requirement stipulated by the International Baccalaureate Program. Fifty hours of creative service, fifty of active service, and fifty of "misc. service.")

For the most part, nearly all of my fellow classmates are genuinely concerned with the cause and take appropriate action. (And, I believe this is perhaps a necessity in order to be successful in such tasks.) Meetings are conducted primarily by students, and all are encouraged to take a leadership role in planning and executing activities and fundraisers. Our success can likely be attributed, at least in part, to our diversity. (By diversity, I mean in almost every way--our economic background, our ethnic background, our cultural background are all different. Despite this, we work together very well.) With such a diverse group with such diverse talents, nearly all goals we set our mind to seem within our reach.

Originally, I must admit, I had joined the task force thinking of it as simply a convenient way to round off my community service hours. Yes, the thought that I would be helping people half way across the world had occurred to me; however, at the time, I had thought of such ideas as a sort of "romantic propaganda." However, as I was introduced to more concepts and philosophies in my Human Rights course, I began to have a revelation of sorts, best reflected in the "Why Landmines?" post on our website. My understanding of the issues and of my role were developed and fostered in such a way that now, I can, in absolute truth, say that I am passionate about our cause and what we are doing (and I believe this passion is perhaps a necessity in order for the group to be successful).

I have always read of and heard of, while attending other schools, instances in which similar organizations have managed to achieve similarly high goals. However, I have never, until now, experienced or been a part of this. It is, I must say, a very rewarding experience.

Join That Landmine Thing by e-mailing info@ThatLandmineThing.org to register your school and receive copies of a newsletter, videos and pictures.

A thank you to Eric for a student perspective and thoughts on an important topic. Again, an important part of the life of the school that often goes unnoticed and un- or under-appreciated.

Electric Avenue

The hallways are full of students talking on cell phones or textmessaging on the way to and from classes.
Once in class: "Please put that away." "You know the rules." "Do you want me to own that?" "OK, give me the cell phone."
"No."
"What do you mean, no? You really don't have an option here."
"No, I'm not going to give it too you."
"Fine. You can make that choice and give it to security in the office."
"OK, but can I get it back after class?"
"No, you can't. You can get it back from the office."
(Student reluctantly hands over cell phone.)

This coversation is repeated a number of times, with a number of students, over an increasing number of electronic devices. In case you didn't know, CD players are almost passé at this point. It's the tiny spy-sized "Get Smart" style MP3 players that are the distraction.

It isn't as if the rules aren't clear: "No electronic devices can be used, heard or seen during class." That is pretty clear, no? Yet, this is the most "wired" group in history--and the most distractable. Family and parent expectations have also changed. Parents are often the most demanding that their children be available 24/7, including during school. And, "wired" can almost be taken literally. I have many students (mostly male) who walk around the entire day with at least one earphone plugged into their ear. The only time it gets removed is when you ask. Sometimes, the response, even then, is "It isn't on."

Other distractions are fairly easy to deal with, at least in my classes, but the electronic devices seem to be almost addictive. Miniaturization has made them harder to detect and much harder to control. Yet, they aren't evil devices. They have their place. It's simply that attention to entertainment or communications outside the room distract from the focus of learning. There are some electronics that can be integrated in the classroom setting, instead of becoming a battleground. There are others that will simply always distract. It's just one more thing to juggle in the three-ringed circus that is a classroom.

Oh. And for the first time ever, my cell phone rang during class once this year. I promptly confiscated it from myself.

Between Iraq

There is always a sense of loneliness each year as students graduate. Familiar faces fade, personalities change, and another group of young students enters the empty space. We all like to think that we are unique, but one thing that is not unique about us at all is that we are all unique. Therefore, all alike.

Steve certainly isn't a student that would stand out in some extraordinary way, no massive intellect, no special physical presence, no outstanding athletic ability or records, no single, simple way of giving him a particular identity. Not a hero. Yet, as alike to all the students I've taught over the years, he is still a distinct personality with all the special qualities that any human being can claim. I guess what I'm trying to say is that Steve is one among many. Nothing that Newsweek or the Nobel Prize committee would be interested in.

Steve was a rambunctious student, always wired and full of teenage energy. As a student, he was one of those frustrating, rather immature, young men that take a great deal of class time and energy keeping focused. He always had interesting stories to tell, and was always telling them. His humor was amusing. After moving to the next grade level, he still often came to hang around in class with several friends, sometimes talking, sometimes completely ignoring me.

When he decided during his senior year to enlist in the military, I didn't express my disapproval or approval, just tendered the advice to stay alert and learn to duck. The military operations in Iraq had begin by then, and I certainly knew that he could easily end up deployed there.

His friend joined the Navy. He joined the Army. He is stationed in Iraq north of Baghdad. I have often had some anxiety about the many young people, male and female, whom I have taught who are now in Iraq. It is disconcerting knowing that many of these vibrant young people are in harms way.

I had a surprise visit from him and his girlfriend today. He is on a short leave and will be returning, redeployed, to Iraq within a few days. "Keep ducking." It was good to know that he is doing well and is unharmed (physically at least). It is distressing to know that he is returning. It isn't about high politics, right or wrong, peace or war. It is about the distinct possibility that today's parting hug could be the last, or that he could return, as tens of thousands have, severely and permanently disabled. It is about the distress of watching and knowing that another group of my senior students will soon be there.