Friday, November 7, 2014

Class Struggle in School

Public education’s reputation as a place where all kids are given an equal chance at success is a great myth.

“Equal,” to some, means to expect the same learning to happen for the same age kids at around the same time. That, to many, is how educational fairness is achieved. But to expect, in the context of school, is to coerce. “Equality” in this sense means the demand for ritual compliance of children, without the encumbrance of having to listen in return.

It is true that some kids find compliance with the learning demands of school to be a piece of cake. Skim the 10% of kids off the top who trust authority, can manage to get interested in anything put in front of them, and feel a connection to the world that leads to an understanding that what is expected of them is truly important.

Those kids are our justification for continuing a coercive system of learning.

But there is loss even for them.  “Successful” students have turned their initiative, their powers of choice, over to the authorities. Over the course of 13 years, they have accepted that their needs should be subjugated to the system’s demands. They’ve done pretty well with it, and when pressed, might even defend the system as being just what all kids really need.

But there is something worse; no matter how kind and sympathetic a "good student" is, they have been given cause to believe they are the good kids, the smart ones; the ones who have gained the approval of those in power. It is an institutional exercise of the the class system.

Those who struggle to succeed in school either settle for little or no sense of accomplishment, try to be satisfied with the cheapened sense that comes from having struggled through the stuff that’s put in front of them, no matter how disconnected they feel. The self-respect that comes from this is chancy, and connected to the approval from those in power who have a mistaken notion of what good learning looks like. It is a hit-or-miss proposition.

And they see their failures against the success of other students. They can learn to accept their position in the education class system, or they can struggle and struggle against the powerful, most often finding it a lost cause. They have to comply or lose their ticket out, the pass to a better life: a high school diploma.

Some benevolent folks (including myself) believe that creating alternative spaces for those students who don’t thrive in the public education mainstream is the way to go. But this implies that school works fine for some students; it’s the oddball kids who can't fit into the normal school.

The coercive nature of the learning experience in public education is a problem for every student.

How do we even things out? How do we make certain that every child has great and successful learning experiences at school regardless of their stressful home life, education level of their parents, learning strengths, and other life circumstances?

Every member of a learning community should have some say in the environment in which they spend so much of their day. Instead, we require children in school to live out the experience of being under a quasi-totalitarian regime (whether they realize it or not) even while they sit in class, memorizing principles of "democracy." Check hypocrisy at the door! There is no down-side to the enfranchisement of every human in every school. Give power of choice and voice over both learning and living, and reap the reward of students who have a sense of responsibility to the community.

With democracy comes the acknowledgment of the individual identities of each student. So many of us claim to believe that every child has an equal ability to grow intelligence; to learn, and succeed. I don't know anyone who would deny this. I know many, many people who feel that it is perfectly appropriate to refer to some kids as "struggling learners," without any sense of having violated that first precept: that all kids have an equal ability to grow intelligence. If you believe that is true, then the existence of a struggling learner indicates that something is wrong with the system.

So we begin with the appreciation of and belief in every individual child.

From there we begin to understand that every child has an area of strength. Every child is an expert in something, and would love to tell you what that is. My favorite is the inner-city child who said he is an expert in "walking home from school without getting shot." That is a kid who gets the neighborhood. He senses the mood, knows the streets and alleyways intimately, and understands how to avoid trouble. He is proud, and he should be. He should be able to teach others how to be so alert and tuned-in to their surroundings.

Lately it seems it is fashionable and PC for adults to claim to value play. Where that value can be seen in action is a mystery to me, but play is another huge part of fulfilling the idea that every child can grow intelligence. When children play, adults should be watching. They should take note of the conversation of children; what each child is attracted to, how they play, what they play with, and what they need. When a child plays alone, and when they play with others. Some education models actually have adults document these conversations and activities through stealthy video or audio taping, or at the very least, a pencil and piece of paper!

Adults can use the information to provide the environment that will cultivate and enrich children's play time. If it is tech that is needed, get it. According to age, that could be Raspberry Pi, Makey-Makey, Arduino, Scratch, and many other ways kids can play with tech. Or maybe if you are a cardboard expert like Cain in Cain's Arcade, all you need is lots of boxes, tape, and a warehouse of random materials. Young gardeners can grow seedlings. Young fashion designers can follow their interests by playing with patterns and fabric. Young theater impresarios can produce their own plays. The list is endless but enriching play all has one thing in common: adults are paying respectful attention.

Tony Wagner, in his book Creating Innovators, came up with the expression, "Play, Passion, Purpose." Enriching play is absolutely essential: time to explore and dive deeply into fun.

I have in the past been a big believer in children's goal-setting, but I've had a change of heart. If kids want to set goals and work toward them then they certainly should. But working toward a goal should not stand in the way of exploratory play. THAT is what creates innovators; and that is what attaches children to learning. The goals will emerge if you take that leap of faith in the unadulterated ingenuity of children.

The emergence of the next two concepts -- passion, and purpose -- are inevitable with the right environment and adult guidance. All learning wraps around the discoveries made in play. Reading, math, social studies, science.

This approach to learning -- identity, strengths, play and passion, all embedded in democracy -- can start in Kindergarten and continue through high school. It may look very different from school to school or grade to grade, but it carries those principles along.

What happens if we trust kids to learn, without coercion? Is coercion benefiting anyone? The differences between children should not lie in how they respond to coercion, but in their interests and their strengths.

We worry so much about our kids developing a sense of responsibility and accountability; and yet we deny them the connection to learning and pursuit of deep interests that would naturally result in greater responsibility. The level of disengagement we see is entirely predictable.

Public education is no more an institution that provides kids with equal opportunities to grow and succeed than culture outside it is. Not as the system stands now.  We can fashion a new way, one that really does engender equality. Delve into the principles outlined here; insist that our schools embrace the effort to truly value the intelligence and abilities of each child.

Written with significant help from Brendan Heidenreich

Friday, October 10, 2014

To Algebra or Not to Algebra

(We interrupt this series to bring you this small point.)

Why is this meme so right on target?
The whole system is structured around imposing, not exposing. I'm all for exposing, but exposure to algebra without context just doesn't produce all that many lovers, or even appreciators, of algebra, any more than you can really love a hammer before you know that it hits a nail that holds boards together.

Also, a system organized around "just in case" or "it's for your own good" learning finds that the sheer quantity of things kids "may need to know someday" pushes out the things that kids might really want to know right now, to such a degree that by high school so many kids look at learning as an annoying chore, something that is being done to them.

Let's not forget that we don't have that "expose" system right now, we don't give kids a taste of algebra, we give them a whole damn year of it. Learning that is forced pushes out the ideas that can be developed into real meaningful learning...and that will most definitely include algebra, as soon as a kid figures out that it is a key to what he or she wants to do.

What we lose with this approach is more tragic than what we lose if we stop teaching kids stuff they might need someday.

Wednesday, October 8, 2014

The Myth of “Knowledge Gaps”

Third in a series about poverty and education

This post is a bit of a side-note in my series on education and poverty and Ruby Payne's work, but I found I couldn’t continue until I had explored this issue. There are ways in which the current education system is particularly oppressive to children who come from the lower classes. I want to present these ideas before going into that further.

People who oppose education “reform” efforts such as the new Common Core standards and excessive state standardized testing, often cite some combination of the following as their reasons:

  • The high-stakes testing culture narrows the curriculum to that which is tested.
  • Transfer of information is the prioritized pedagogy.   

  • Learning material that can be measured takes priority over other skills.

  • Exploratory or interest-driven learning is marginalized.
  • Teachers have been vilified or driven out of out of the profession.
  • Test-driven teaching and learning has a disproportionately negative impact in     low-income districts.

All of the above are true. There is, however, something happening under the surface of the Great Education Debate that is insidious and difficult to decipher.

After nearly two decades of reform, adults still appear to be gripped by fear and anxiety for the future.  There is a terrible fear that we have a system that allows kids to pass through with critical gaps in their knowledge and abilities. Their answer is to put the hammer down.

The hammer is being held by the education power cabal. This group includes the past two presidential administrations, large reform-minded foundations like Walton, Broad and Gates, such vocal leaders as Michelle Rhee and Jeb Bush and many more. They have looked at education, and identified the right problem: student underachievement. But the reforms put into place over the past fifteen to twenty years provide a solution to a very different problem, having more to do with profit than pedagogy.

Their solution is backed by the kind of money that assures success and also manipulates the national narrative on education. To most people it appears to be reasonable and right. Their solution is based on a principle that is so simple and so familiar that most adults in this country don’t see anything wrong or even different about it. Teachers have always defined for students what is to be learned, and the students’ job was to endeavor to learn it.

With education reform, this practice has been converted to a pedagogy on steroids. We've been living with it so long that many educators don't even remember a time when there was anything other than a ticking clock on skill-building. Pushing an impossible quantity of education standards that are enforced by excessive punitive testing are moves that seem almost impossible to effectively demonize. The ground has been prepared with enough fear to keep it going.

I don’t want to present a history of the issue here -- but I would like to deconstruct that fear.

I conducted an unscientific study including a dozen or so friends, mostly homeschooling parents. I wanted to determine what exactly hangs in the balance when standardization of learning wins out over learning that is determined and directed by students? Is there a “before-it’s-too-late” risk?

I asked this question:

Is there really a developmental window of opportunity when learning needs to happen, and if it doesn’t happen at that time, can never effectively happen?

The discussion revolved around the window for foreign language learning, which many of us know vaguely to be around three or four years old, and is mostly effective in an immersion-type program. Some say musical learning should start early; others say no.

How about reading? Opinions vary wildly but most of the folks I talk to, who are involved in literacy, homeschooling or alternative education, point to the success of simply following a child’s interest in reading, and watch while the child turns into a reader. Micro-managing the age a student learns to read does not translate to a higher rate of success; for some the opposite is true.

My own conclusions are more uncertain when it comes to math. I never learned arithmetic well enough to stop using my fingers to add, or reach for a calculator when multiplying single digits. The thing is, I worked just as hard at it as my friends, and as my math genius brother and sister. So maybe my math wiring is screwed up. The point is, I’m not comfortable with arithmetic, but I function, more or less normally, as an adult.

For the most part, the parents and others I spoke with provided ample anecdotal evidence that there isn’t a real reason to worry about a window of opportunity for learning closing forever. Fear of knowledge gaps only fuels a system of learning that is producing more and more unprepared students. Maybe that’s why the fear is giving rise to panic. More tests! More standards!

Adults fear the loss of opportunities open to our kids if we allow them to graduate from our systems ignorant of what we feel is important. We fear our kids won’t be able to go to college, get good jobs, support themselves, have families, be happy and secure. Many parents and others observing these trends in education still believe that it these reforms are appropriate reactions to the failure of the system.

But what people are afraid of doesn’t exist! It’s a chimera! A mirage you can only see because you are too frightened to see that it isn’t there!

We must liberate our minds from the idea that our children are in danger if they do not learn a huge quantity of information, knowledge, skills predetermined by distant entities. In fact, all we really need to teach children is that they can learn anything they want to learn, whenever they need to learn it. And it turns out, that’s not even something that can be taught. All we need to do is give kids all the support, resources, help and guidance they need.

Putting kids truly in the driver’s seat of their learning means that perhaps every child won’t have learned everything that all adults combined feel they desperately need. But what they have learned, they learned well...far better than under this fear-driven system.

Yes, it sounds radical, but when you realize that the conventional wisdom is absolutely wrong, then the radical becomes reasonable and normal.

I recently read that Ruby Payne’s Framework for Understanding Poverty has been part of professional development in 70% of our nation's districts. Her approach is also known as “deficit thinking”; it “answers” the problem of poverty by pointing at the weaknesses of poor and minority children, painting them as lacking the ability to function as well as middle-class and wealthy white children. Since her diagnosis is that these kids are broken, her solution is to fix them.

However, children from disadvantaged families are not the only ones who need a change. Every single child suffers from the campaign of fear in schools, and stands to gain a better education if it is based on building on their strengths, allowing them to follow their interests, to play, and explore, and create. Tony Wagner, author of Creating Innovators, says that play develops into passion, and passion turns to purpose. That is what is needed.

The current education system is engaged in reforms that have nurtured, fed, and encouraged fear. We’re in an endless cycle; the more afraid we are, the more we grasp for solutions that don’t work.

You might have come to the end of this post thinking that I don't believe there is anything to be afraid of. But I do. There are things our kids desperately want and need, and some of those things are respect, trust, appropriate guidance and support, the freedom to think for themselves and plenty of practice making choices and decisions. There are things the world needs from them: ideas, innovation, solutions to intractable problems.

If kids aren’t graduating with the ability to learn whatever they are going to need to learn, then we are failing -- failing them and failing ourselves -- and that is what scares me.



Please add yours if you don't see it here! In future posts, I will try to articulate or point to what I think might be some answers.

Do you think that because homeschoolers don’t encounter these gaps in knowledge, that whole school systems can operate that way as well?

Are you saying that children don’t need to learn things if they don’t want to? What about reading and math?

How can we make sure schools are doing their jobs if we don’t hold them accountable?

These ideas sound a bit fluffy. What’s your proof that kids will learn without being pushed?

Isn’t learning to overcome dislike of the subject matter important? Kids won’t always be able to choose what to know or be able to do all their lives!

You make vague reference to the role of the teacher in your new Utopian education system, Can you elaborate on it?

You make things sound so simple. Isn't more complicated than that?

Do you really think simply following kids' interest in reading will work with kids from families who don't read to them?

Friday, October 3, 2014

Poverty and Public Education: a summary

Second in a series

In my last post I promised a look at poverty and its effect on education.  It was an ambitious promise.

What is the national narrative about poor students and schools today? Why is the push toward more accountability in schools adversely affecting poor students, when part of its goal was to make sure no child was left behind?

I’m going to attempt to tackle the first question today.

Some facts about our current situation: poor children, for the most part, do badly on state standardized tests, the current measure used to judge the value of our schools. The stakes couldn’t be higher: under NCLB (No Child Left Behind), low scores on state standardized tests brought sanctions and mandates.

Today, many states have NCLB waivers protecting them from those sanctions, but test scores still initiate scrutiny from state departments of education; teacher evaluations are tied to test scores now, and some states have issued “school grades” drawn almost entirely from test scores. (The impact of this grading system is on more than just the schools. Want to buy a house in a district that has two Fs, three Ds and a C? If you have a family, are thinking of starting one, and can afford to pick and choose, the answer is no.)

Test scores are still thought to be the gold standard of school district quality; in truth, they are only an accurate measure of income level of district families. Study after study has shown that when you compare standardized test scores of kids in similar socio-economic backgrounds, you see that the scores are similar from one school to the next. School quality -- however you define that -- makes no difference to the test scores.

So what does poverty have to do with public education?

This short blog post from Matt Bruening contrasts unfair, mistaken notions about poverty and education, with the real effects of poverty on children’s success in schools. The bullet points on the list are interesting; Bruening inventories the popular theories about why poor kids do badly in school:

1. Genetics. Poor kids just aren’t smart. (Both he and I say, BZZZT. Wrong.)

2. Poor parenting. Bruening summarizes deficit thinking pretty well in this paragraph: “The conditions of poverty create a subculture with its own socialization, behaviors, and attitudes. That culture then transmits itself across generations, which accounts for why poor kids remain poor, and might therefore also account for why they do worse in school.”

That seems like a reasonable viewpoint, and it may sometimes be true, but whenever we form a stereotype in our minds, and approach individuals with those stereotypes, we are in danger of making hurtful assumptions. Why can’t we regard all students as individuals, with strengths of their own?
On the other side is the thought that “...poor parents are poor ...because they are lazy, stupid, and otherwise self-destructive. The same thing that causes them to be poor — these behaviors — is what causes them to be bad parents, and therefore what causes their kids to not do well in school.”

“Blaming the poor for being poor” is a very convenient notion, and comes packaged with a handy way of dismissing larger economic and social problems.

The most constructive way to regard the impact of poverty on parenting is to pay attention to the next bullet point:

3. Effects of poverty. “...economic instability, deprivation, risk, stress, and neighborhood effects that accompany poverty best account for why poor students do not perform as well.”  In other words, it is poverty itself that is the enemy of learning.

Bruening also states that poor kids live in circumstances that make psychological, developmental and cognitive difficulties more prevalent than their better-off peers.

4. Bad Schools. In his final point, he tackles the idea that spawned the Education Reform movement: “...schools in poorer areas are underfunded, mismanaged, and attract lower-performing teachers. As a result, poor kids do worse in school.”

Bruening says, “...when you control for socio-economic background, students that go to the same schools and very different schools tend to perform very similarly. If the schools are what make the difference, this is not what you would expect. Additionally, intense and widespread efforts at reforming schools and teaching models have had little to no success at improving the educational achievement of poor students.”

I had to ask a few people what all this meant, as my mind doesn’t wrap around statistics very well. If you have the same difficulty as me, perhaps multiple answers will help you too!

Laura Faith Tallant: “It just means that no matter which school they attend, across the board, students from poorer socio-economic backgrounds always perform poorer than their more affluent peers. And that the location and style of education doesn't affect this factor.”

Mark Moran: “It means that students with similar socioeconomic backgrounds show similar performance in school, regardless of where they go. By "control" they mean they only compare students with similar backgrounds so that it is removed as an explanatory factor.”

Elaine Walker “1) we removed socioeconomic status as a influencing variable, and found that kids perform about the same at very different schools. 2) thus, this type of research attempts to "prove" that socioeconomic status is one of the most important variables predicting future success -- not matter what kind of school they kids go to. So, in other words 3) socio economic status is more important, in general, than the quality of a school in predicting future student success. In middle school language we'd say ‘money trumps everything’”

It means, in essence, that statistics bear out the premise that socio-economic status is the single biggest factor contributing to students’ performance at school.

In different ways, various interest groups and stakeholders in the area of education are trying to fix the wrong problem -- at least, promote the wrong definition of the problem, so that they can sell the wrong solution. Teachers don’t cause poor students to do badly. Nor do poorly-funded schools. Poor genes and bad parenting are inflammatory and essentially useless non-starters. It’s poverty that makes poor kids do badly in schools.

More than ever schools and districts are responding to the high stakes of standardized tests by focusing on how to raise the test scores of our poorest students. In my next post I’ll address the second question: Why is the push toward more accountability in schools adversely affecting poor students, when part of its goal was to make sure no child was left behind?

Monday, September 29, 2014

Ruby Payne and Deficit Thinking

First in a series

School districts including mine are looking for ways to combat low achievement among our poorer students. This problem is so intractable that anyone offering wisdom and advice, who appears to have done some serious study on the issue, will be grasped by teachers and administrators for whatever wisdom is available. For ten years, Ruby Payne has been a major voice in guiding teachers and school districts through waters inhabited by poor people.

Ruby Payne’s seminal book, “A Framework for Understanding Poverty”, endeavors to provide educators with strategies for teaching children from poor families. 

But something happens when you try to do that. You take a snapshot of a classroom and you analyze what you see; you figure out what needs to be done to rearrange what is seen in that picture, and you advise people to do those things. But when you try to effect change based on a snapshot, you get it wrong. You get it so wrong that you do damage to kids, families, schools, and communities. 

Just as politicians are taught not to accept the premise of a question, we can't accept the premise of that snapshot. We have to examine it.

On the surface, it’s pretty simple, even if it seems impossible to solve: middle-class and wealthy kids do better on state standardized tests. They must be better equipped for classroom learning than their poor classmates. So let’s fix those poorer kids, make them better. Surely that is part of our job.

However, scholars, educators and public education activists have been attacking Payne’s work for years. There is a term that brings together the opposition to her framework: deficit thinking.

"Deficit thinking is a pseudoscience founded on racial and class bias. It “blames the victim” for school failure instead of examining how schools are structured to prevent poor students and students of color from learning”  -Richard Valencia, Dismantling Contemporary Deficit Thinking

It is important to focus a bright spotlight on deficit thinking now. On a national level, we are seeing an education movement toward learning that is pushed by standards and enforced by testing. This is not a trend; it is a tsunami. It has crashed over public education and left in its wake a horrific disaster.

In my next few posts I’ll try to make sense of America’s attitudes toward poverty and education -- a big subject about which Ruby Payne’s analysis is possibly the most popular, and most wrongheaded.

I'm going to try to tackle these topics:
  •  What is the national narrative about poor students and schools today? Why is the push toward more accountability in schools adversely affecting poor students, when part of its goal was to make sure no child was left behind?
  • What is Ruby Payne saying?
  • What is Deficit Thinking, and how does it respond to Payne’s work?
  • What’s the solution?

I have been collecting articles and research on both deficit thinking and Ruby Payne’s work. These are some of the sources I have found so far:

Miseducating Teachers about the Poor: A Critical Analysis of Ruby Payne’s Claims about Poverty by RANDY BOMER University of Texas at Austin JOEL E. DWORIN University of Texas at El Paso LAURA MAY Georgia State University PEGGY SEMINGSON
University of Texas at Arlington

Assistant Professor, Integrative Studies
George Mason University

That is the result of my first few passes through search engines. If you know of good resources on either deficit thinking, Ruby Payne, or the impact of high-stakes testing on disadvantaged communities, email me or leave a comment here.

Part Two

Friday, September 26, 2014

Why am I on the school board?

Every time I walk through the doors of our schools to attend a meeting of the district Board of Directors, I feel myself start to compromise my beliefs. Sometimes I stick my face in my phone as I walk down the halls toward the meeting room, trying to hold on to those principles, as though the phone was my lifeline to them and not just to the people with whom I share them; a tool to avoid losing sight of what I believe and know to be right, as I sit as one of eleven members of the governing board of my school district.

The status quo of any school system is a powerful thing. Familiar, even comforting, it induces a kind of nostalgic haze over otherwise well-honed minds. Never mind that what we see in classrooms now is the result of a twisted, compromised history of education and not the result of a natural evolution of practices intended to bring out the best in all children.

The status quo in public education -- teachers defining what is to be learned and students endeavoring to learn it -- is what we all know.  Most of us believe it cannot and should not fundamentally change.

So as I feel the warm glow that spreads as I listen to reports by administrators, teachers, even students -- how hard everyone is working, how caring they are about children, how they genuinely want to find a way for all kids to be the best they can -- it’s very simple to start to compromise. It’s not that I don’t believe what they say; it’s all true,  even admirable, so I listen and feel the resolve slipping away. How else could we do it? I ask. This is good. It’s not perfect, but it works.

Here are some of the many things I try to hold on to:

  • Learning is a consequence of experience. We all learn, all the time. What a struggling student is learning is that learning is a struggle. Difficulty, struggle, are not bad things if they lie along a path that students have chosen.
  • The basics are learned more reliably while kids develop their own passions and interests than when they are taught in dry, tasteless and disconnected learning tasks.
  • Kids in higher income or educated households do better in the current learning system. They are more likely to move on to more interesting projects and learning experiences while the strugglers stay behind. This can ultimately be called discriminatory. (This is a result of deficit thinking.)
  • If we truly believe all students have an equal ability to learn, we would design our learning systems so that there is no need for failing grades, repeated years, or summer school to make up for what was not learned. While failure is essential to the learning process, a system should never communicate to kids that they are failures. When you give a kid an F or the equivalent, that is what they hear: I Am A Failure. 
  • Focus on kids' strengths rather than their weaknesses, and all their skills will strengthen.
  • Quality of life right now matters for kids just as much as preparation for their lives later on.
  • The solution is democratic education. The solution is for every child to be in control not only of his or her own learning, but of the environment in which he or she learns. Equal citizenship between adult and child can produce learning environments where all children can find satisfaction and fulfilment in their lives.

Even when I successfully hold on to those principles, it isn’t easy to know when to speak and when to be quiet at these meetings. I often feel a little like I’m a stranger on Mars. What I know doesn’t seem to apply, doesn’t even seem relevant  to public education; as though I’m sitting in a room full of people who all seem familiar to me, but don’t speak my native language.

We talk about finances. We talk about policies. Some of them affect students directly, and some don’t. We hear about situations arising with the physical plant, usually after a solution has already been found.  Bus problems. School nutrition programs.

I might pick and choose, decide on one or two things at each meeting about which I can make some points, and the rest of the time allow the system to function as it will. I doodle my way through the reports. It helps me focus. Or I take notes if I want to try and formulate a response or a comment.

We spotlight pilot classrooms, we hear from teachers. We hold expulsion and grievance hearings. We talk about our transition to a standards-based system.

It is this last issue that makes my job the hardest. This is the effort my district and districts around Maine are making to change the structure of teaching and learning. The reasons why this effort creates difficulty for me are more than I can articulate here. Suffice it to say that it creates a sea change in how things operate in our classrooms without touching on any of the bullet points above. It takes a neat and legislation-driven end-run around the critical issues of teaching and learning. As long as we accept that learning should be driven by standards and enforced by testing, we can’t hit any of those bullet points. As long as we acquiesce to the questionable custom of adults deciding for children what they should learn and when, we can’t touch the change that kids really need right now.

So why do I continue on the school board?

More important, why should you consider running for your school board?

Friends who have served with me, then gone on to other things, say, “I don’t know how you still do it.” Actually, I have long been resigned to the fact that I do not do my best work at the board table. As long as I believe my audience is drumming their fingers and letting their minds wander; as long as I am aware that while I’m speaking, my superintendent is formulating responses intended to deflect and disprove, I’m going to fumble and falter while getting to the point. I know this about myself. I’m working on it.

Actually, I love it. I’m generally not Ms. Happy Fun Girl by the time the meeting is over (although during the meetings I do crack more jokes than most of my colleagues) but I am fully engaged while I’m there.  

I have been studying issues of learning and the public education system every day for a long time. I’ve collected a group of people from all over the Maine and the US who believe what I believe. Their support gives me confidence; their work shows me that what I dream of for kids is actually possible; their battles are the same as mine. It has taken me ten years to understand what my role in school board meetings is. I’m there to cut through the power of the status quo and bring up the simply and beautiful concept of what can be.