I received this criticism the other day, "[Nate], I love your ideas, but you have deviated from the doctrine of STEAM - Science, Technology, Engineering, the Arts, and Mathematics. Please get back to your mission, or re-name your blog. Thanks," - John B., Connecticut.
Dear John, (I've always wanted to say that?) Thank you for the criticism.You're right, it's time I got back to work on STEAM! This week, I want to discuss an idea that has been in my brain for some time now. The scope and sequence of a full compliment music program for K-12 functioning in a school under the Race to the Top / No Child Left Behind accountability measures. How will the arts continue in this environment? That's a good question, but with the PARCC Assessment and the Common Core Standards on the horizon, I think the arts are primed to become a hot commodity in schools and arts people need to be ready to lend their creativity and leadership to struggling non-arts people that are trying to find ways to get their students to higher order think.
What is the key to this? The answer may lie in our current national standards. Music Standards 8 and 9 declare: "Understanding the relationship between music, the other arts, and disciplines outside the arts." And, "Understanding music in relation to history and culture." In my mind, these two standards are the power standards in music. They give us access to the other subjects, allowing us to find ways to mingle and work. Music itself is approachable and in many ways innate, but it can also become complex and challenging. The flexibility of music, and the accessibility of it, afford strong music teacher's pedagogical advantages when integrating with other disciplines.
How does this work?
Mathematics
First, there are metrics to the tempus (timing) of music. Everything that happens in a song must happen in TIME. Time is a measurable piece. Time can be quantified. The divisions of time can be measured, the speed at which the time passes can be measured. Also, the idea of stretching or altering the time variable is measurable. For non-musicians, singers must sometimes "create time" by stretching a phrase (really they're slowing it down) to work in a breath. Like all other scientific calculations, this can be shown on a graph.
The second mathematical principle in music is range. Range is the distance between notes. We refer to this as interval. Musicians judge interval, calculate the movement, and then make the jump between notes. This process happens very quickly. Young singers need time to orchestrate these jumps, but seasoned site-singers work by feel. They feel the distance and make those jumps easily. The distances between intervals can be mapped mathematically. If you feel really surly, you could map the relationships between intervals. I believe mathematicians call this ratio? In the case of music, not only does the size matter, but the position of the number in relation to tonic. Tonic is home base. Numerically we attribute the number 1 to tonic.
The third way that mathematics and music fit is found in fractions. Note values can be multiplied or divided. Since the values take place in time they are given a fractional value. For example, the quarter note takes up 1/4 of a measure in 4/4 time. Students should be able to divide full measure when given the variable of how many notes fit in a measure and what kind of note we are establishing time on. In 2/4 time, there are 2 quarter notes per measure. The measure can be no greater than that, unless one changes the time signature.
Most of these mathematical principles are taught in the primary grades. I would suggest to school principals and directors that the music teachers reinforce these gen-ed concepts during those K-5 grades. The nature of music classes at those grades lend themselves to having structured lessons that expose the students to instruments and singing, but also foster the mathematical principles that are the building blocks of rhythm and timing. By the 4th grade, students should be reading music outright.
In the Secondary grades, students will be taking more advanced classes and the mathematics of music will be too easy for them. The focus, then should shift to the higher order concepts of tonicization and analysis. To continue math in music at this point, students will need to shift to classes like Music Theory, or Aural Skills. The band and choir classes will need to focus on performances at this point, and honing the skills of the art itself.
English
The English connections are simple, yet profound. Reading is reading; the ability to understand symbols that translate to sounds and deciphering meaning from those sounds. Discovering meaning in symbols and imbuing that meaning with understanding. Utilizing understanding to create new meaning and associations is the synthesis of language - metaphor, allegory, analogy. These elements exist in music with words, and in music without words. Utilizing musical texts is the easiest way to connect the learner to the music and integrate English into the class. However, understanding the meaning of songs without words is much more higher order.
Writing music enhances the idea of word choice. When a composer creates music, they choose the sounds and instrumentation that they want - much like an artists chooses the colors for their palette. Authors also choose words that help to define their meaning, even when that meaning is cryptic. Helping students understand that English is an art, and that writing in the arts is much like composing or painting is another way to connect the two subjects.
Finally, language conventions. Just as there are conventions in writing prose or poetry, music also has a system of cadences that allow a composer to denote when the song is finished, when they are pausing, and when they are simply changing ideas, like changing paragraphs. Teaching this to students is similar to teaching the word choice concept. Why did you choose that chord? Why did you choose those notes? Why did you end there? Does this feel complete when you hear it? These are all questions that I've asked my theory students in the past.
Obviously, these concepts are much more difficult for students to grasp, and should be taught at the higher levels. I have had some success teaching these theories in a traditional method, but the best success has come when I have allowed students to play, not in a discovery learning sense - but with guided practice and synthesis. When I ask the students to write a melody, then a harmony, then change that harmony, then adjust the melody, and so on... That has yielded much more progress as the students become acquainted with the artistic process.
Isn't that what we really want to teach... a process of thought? A process of experimentation that will yield gains?
Hang on Science folks... I'm coming to you next week. You might consider that word, "process" and your own scientific "method". I think there's a link there for you to hook into?
Until then.
Teacher talk about Arts Integration, STEAM, Project Based Learning, and Best Practice.
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Affirmations
Upon returning home from my Partners in Education experience at the Kennedy Center, I feel affirmed. In the past year I have been privileged to attend two major education conferences. At both of them I found people saying, "We'd like to take our school in this direction..." And it was always nice to hear someone say, "Talk to Nate, his school corporation is already doing that." I'm fortunate to have been in a school that not only let me experiment with ideas like Arts Integration, but also provided me with great students and colleagues who were willing to take the journey with me. We learned so much together and these conferences continue prove to me that we're on the right track.
When you're out front, it can be scary. People don't like change and they are often afraid to risk - especially when their child's education is at stake; but I have been allowed to work freely with students and I feel like we've had great success. Key to that success, though, is staying current with trends in education; quickly assessing and filtering what is working from what isn't. It's important to find what fits your student's learning mode and your teaching style. I was relieved to find that...
Rigor, Relevance, Relationships = still the best teaching strategy.
Knowing your students is still the number one way to reach them. By offering them challenging problems and relevant instruction we can make them ready for a world that is changing so fast that they will struggle simply finding a job. Through helping them understand who they are, themselves, and in what direction they are going we can continue to help students find their own road, their own answers, even when we are unable to help. Give a man a fish and he will eat for a day, but teach a man to fish...
I was also affirmed to find... Technology: still the best platform for learning.
Using social media to enhance lessons, poll students, connect students to each other, and to specialists outside of the classroom and the school system isn't going to go away. Harvard, Yale, Stanford, and other big name colleges are already offering audits of programs on-line for FREE. Our students have access to the entire world at their fingertips. They have computing knowledge beyond our wildest dreams. Teachers will need to be around to help students apply this knowledge, and also to inspire students to use it properly. We can't run from technology. We must embrace it.
Another take away: We are SO ready for the Common Core Standards.
Bring on the applications problems! I'm not sweating these at all. Why? Because my students are already synthesizing and creating. Like it or not, the Common Core is upon us, and we will be challenged. I got a preview of the English and Math Common Core Standards. Arts people have nothing to worry about. We are the expression of these subjects. We are the locus of how these subjects operate. Students will be reaching to the arts for help. Also, with the limited educational resources, the arts will be the best and most poignant way to demonstrate knowledge. Math people will be looking to the visual arts for several pieces where "demonstration" is concerned. We need to be ready to embrace them.
And finally, Differentiated Instruction is a capability now.
With all of the technology available to us, if we are still standing in front of students spoon-feeding the middle 60% we are failing. We have the capability - and therefore, the responsibility - to flip the classroom, to divide the ranks, to work with struggling students, or push high ability students forward. It is nothing, now, to say to a group of students, "I want you guys to work on <insert assignment>." While you take a group that is struggling OR a group that is far ahead on to the next piece. If a kid really has the content and is an expert, why not let them flex their mental muscles a little bit and try their hand at teaching? Giving students opportunities - even small ones - could inspire them in big ways.
Until next week...
When you're out front, it can be scary. People don't like change and they are often afraid to risk - especially when their child's education is at stake; but I have been allowed to work freely with students and I feel like we've had great success. Key to that success, though, is staying current with trends in education; quickly assessing and filtering what is working from what isn't. It's important to find what fits your student's learning mode and your teaching style. I was relieved to find that...
Rigor, Relevance, Relationships = still the best teaching strategy.
Knowing your students is still the number one way to reach them. By offering them challenging problems and relevant instruction we can make them ready for a world that is changing so fast that they will struggle simply finding a job. Through helping them understand who they are, themselves, and in what direction they are going we can continue to help students find their own road, their own answers, even when we are unable to help. Give a man a fish and he will eat for a day, but teach a man to fish...
I was also affirmed to find... Technology: still the best platform for learning.
Using social media to enhance lessons, poll students, connect students to each other, and to specialists outside of the classroom and the school system isn't going to go away. Harvard, Yale, Stanford, and other big name colleges are already offering audits of programs on-line for FREE. Our students have access to the entire world at their fingertips. They have computing knowledge beyond our wildest dreams. Teachers will need to be around to help students apply this knowledge, and also to inspire students to use it properly. We can't run from technology. We must embrace it.
Another take away: We are SO ready for the Common Core Standards.
Bring on the applications problems! I'm not sweating these at all. Why? Because my students are already synthesizing and creating. Like it or not, the Common Core is upon us, and we will be challenged. I got a preview of the English and Math Common Core Standards. Arts people have nothing to worry about. We are the expression of these subjects. We are the locus of how these subjects operate. Students will be reaching to the arts for help. Also, with the limited educational resources, the arts will be the best and most poignant way to demonstrate knowledge. Math people will be looking to the visual arts for several pieces where "demonstration" is concerned. We need to be ready to embrace them.
And finally, Differentiated Instruction is a capability now.
With all of the technology available to us, if we are still standing in front of students spoon-feeding the middle 60% we are failing. We have the capability - and therefore, the responsibility - to flip the classroom, to divide the ranks, to work with struggling students, or push high ability students forward. It is nothing, now, to say to a group of students, "I want you guys to work on <insert assignment>." While you take a group that is struggling OR a group that is far ahead on to the next piece. If a kid really has the content and is an expert, why not let them flex their mental muscles a little bit and try their hand at teaching? Giving students opportunities - even small ones - could inspire them in big ways.
Until next week...
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Live from the Kennedy Center
Austin Kleon. Does that name mean anything to you? Perhaps you've read one of his books - Steal Like An Artist or Newspaper Blackout? Maybe you're familiar with his recent TED talk?
I had the privilege of hearing Mr. Kleon speak this evening at the opening of the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts Annual Conference. Yes, I'm hanging out in D.C. this week getting the down low on the arts, donors, and educational creativity systems. Don't worry - it's not all work. I had the chance to eat at Legal Seafood (thanks, guys!) and get to the National Gallery of Art (my wife is still hotter than Venus); all is well.
Anyhow, I was impressed with Mr. Kleon. He discussed how we are all thieves. Yes, thieves. We all steal. Well, "steal" is, perhaps, a strong word. We borrow. We use. We interpret, variate, rearrange, and synthesize. We adjust. We adapt. But we rarely create. What's the scripture? Ecclesiastes 1:9 "... there is no new thing under the sun." Mr. Kleon's premise is fairly simple: No matter what you create, you are essentially doing something that has been done before, and that's okay. All creative work is based on what was done before. Our life mission is to take what was done before us and improve upon it.
How does this translate into education?
Education is the proverbial wild west right now. Everyone but professional teachers have a handle on it. There are ideas flying all over the place. It's a no-holds-barred landscape of data, test scores, politics, and general ineptitude. What's being lost is creativity, passion, inspiration... While the government opens the profession to "skilled practitioners", the actual practitioners are leaving the field for jobs with incentive, security, and - dare I say - RESPECT.
You know what wasn't broke? The way we were teaching. It worked! It worked for me. It worked for most of you. Sure, we needed to update it. We had to add technology. We had to open the structure a little to make room for politicians with microscopes on our kids and our classrooms. We also had to adjust our approach for a generation of students that are actually reading (on a screen), writing (texting/typing), and interpreting (filtering?) more data than any other generation in the history of the world. They have tons of data at their finger tips, and most of them don't know how to use it. They have one sided communications via their cellular and texting devices about what they ate for dinner and which Kardashian has a nicer tush. They certainly don't know how to refine a search, cross reference data, organize, or apply what they see, but they have access to it at light speed.
So, do we throw our hands up and say, "We can't teach these kids?" -- That's not a viable option.
In a side portion of Mr. Kleon's presentation he said something very interesting. He was talking about taking some students to the art museum. He had digressed from his main point and was trying to pull an idea back around. During his aside he discussed a teaching tactic that he used with students to get them to higher order think. He encouraged kids to look at the painting first, come to their own conclusions, and then check out the caption to find all the information about the painting. Now - I had been at the art gallery with my brilliant colleague and artist, Alex Higgins, all day. We had been playing this game. We looked at pictures and guessed who the artist was, what the period was, and what the title was, then we looked at the caption to see if we were right. Obviously knowing the title of the work gives insight to the artist's mind, and can shed light on what the artist's statement for the work is. Often a title will define the artist's intent for the work.
Anyway, back to Mr. Kleon... As he brought his main point back into focus he discussed student answers. Some of his students said brilliant things - things that he had not thought of, that were true to the piece. Kleon said, "Sometimes you don't need to change the painting; change the caption."
#mindblown
Sometimes your answer is right, it's just not what everyone else had thought of. In this case you are being truly creative, but your creativity is still based, fatalistically, on what you perceive - and that is based on what you know, which is based on what you've learned. Those building blocks are passed up to you from those that went before you, and you can't help but utilize them. In this case, there is nothing wrong with your creation, just your caption.
I have taught with Musashi's style. I have used Aristotle's methods. I have taught using Socratic method. You can package them up any way you want to: Coach, Drill and Kill, Answer a Question with a Question, Scientific Method, Discovery Learning, Project-based Learning... call it whatever you want, but it's really just TEACHING.
What is teaching? To me, it's using the best tactic to get across to each student - individually - the content that I'm trying to provide. Now, here's the kicker, and this is also what I think Mr. Kleon was trying to bring around: I'm not trying to give them the knowledge in the hope that they will simply retain it. It is my hope that they will USE it. I want them to expand it. I want them to discover it. I want them to do something with it. I want them to synthesize it. I want them to create something *new*; but it will still be based on what I got from my teachers, that they got from their teachers...
If artists, designers, musicians, creators, and thinkers are thieves - teachers are their fences.
For those of you that are unfamiliar with that term (and I only know because I play the Elder Scrolls video games), a fence is someone that a thief can do business with. Fences deal in stolen goods. They smuggle, trade, and broker for thieves. You can find a more formal definition of this informal use of the word at Urban Dictionary. Teachers are fences. I take what I gained from my teachers, that they stole from their teachers, that they stole from their teachers... and I broker that knowledge to my students. I want them to utilize it for their benefit. I want them to run with it. I want them to re-sell it. I want them to customize it. I want them to trade it in their circles.
Aristotle believed that only intellect was immortal. This passing of conscience understanding from one coherent being to another is the immortality of intellect that he spoke of. The problem is that many of our students are too anesthetized by entertainment, drugs, TV, and other distractions both in and outside of the home, that keep them from being coherent enough to pick up what we're trying to sell. Make no mistake about it, teachers; we are selling. We are hustling ideas. We are moving intellect, and increasingly this particular intellect, creativity, is being labeled as contraband. We have to get it into the mind of the student and get them to begin to experiment before the creative life is sucked from them. Increasingly I can't teach a lesson without an administrator asking me, "How's that going to help test scores?" Could it be that this is the one thing that this kid needs to help him or her understand this concept? If I'm doing things right, the test scores will come.
You're right, Mr. Kleon: Art is theft; Creativity is theft. People that are creative must steal ideas...
...and I'm a fence.
I had the privilege of hearing Mr. Kleon speak this evening at the opening of the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts Annual Conference. Yes, I'm hanging out in D.C. this week getting the down low on the arts, donors, and educational creativity systems. Don't worry - it's not all work. I had the chance to eat at Legal Seafood (thanks, guys!) and get to the National Gallery of Art (my wife is still hotter than Venus); all is well.
Anyhow, I was impressed with Mr. Kleon. He discussed how we are all thieves. Yes, thieves. We all steal. Well, "steal" is, perhaps, a strong word. We borrow. We use. We interpret, variate, rearrange, and synthesize. We adjust. We adapt. But we rarely create. What's the scripture? Ecclesiastes 1:9 "... there is no new thing under the sun." Mr. Kleon's premise is fairly simple: No matter what you create, you are essentially doing something that has been done before, and that's okay. All creative work is based on what was done before. Our life mission is to take what was done before us and improve upon it.
How does this translate into education?
Education is the proverbial wild west right now. Everyone but professional teachers have a handle on it. There are ideas flying all over the place. It's a no-holds-barred landscape of data, test scores, politics, and general ineptitude. What's being lost is creativity, passion, inspiration... While the government opens the profession to "skilled practitioners", the actual practitioners are leaving the field for jobs with incentive, security, and - dare I say - RESPECT.
You know what wasn't broke? The way we were teaching. It worked! It worked for me. It worked for most of you. Sure, we needed to update it. We had to add technology. We had to open the structure a little to make room for politicians with microscopes on our kids and our classrooms. We also had to adjust our approach for a generation of students that are actually reading (on a screen), writing (texting/typing), and interpreting (filtering?) more data than any other generation in the history of the world. They have tons of data at their finger tips, and most of them don't know how to use it. They have one sided communications via their cellular and texting devices about what they ate for dinner and which Kardashian has a nicer tush. They certainly don't know how to refine a search, cross reference data, organize, or apply what they see, but they have access to it at light speed.
So, do we throw our hands up and say, "We can't teach these kids?" -- That's not a viable option.
In a side portion of Mr. Kleon's presentation he said something very interesting. He was talking about taking some students to the art museum. He had digressed from his main point and was trying to pull an idea back around. During his aside he discussed a teaching tactic that he used with students to get them to higher order think. He encouraged kids to look at the painting first, come to their own conclusions, and then check out the caption to find all the information about the painting. Now - I had been at the art gallery with my brilliant colleague and artist, Alex Higgins, all day. We had been playing this game. We looked at pictures and guessed who the artist was, what the period was, and what the title was, then we looked at the caption to see if we were right. Obviously knowing the title of the work gives insight to the artist's mind, and can shed light on what the artist's statement for the work is. Often a title will define the artist's intent for the work.
Anyway, back to Mr. Kleon... As he brought his main point back into focus he discussed student answers. Some of his students said brilliant things - things that he had not thought of, that were true to the piece. Kleon said, "Sometimes you don't need to change the painting; change the caption."
#mindblown
Sometimes your answer is right, it's just not what everyone else had thought of. In this case you are being truly creative, but your creativity is still based, fatalistically, on what you perceive - and that is based on what you know, which is based on what you've learned. Those building blocks are passed up to you from those that went before you, and you can't help but utilize them. In this case, there is nothing wrong with your creation, just your caption.
I have taught with Musashi's style. I have used Aristotle's methods. I have taught using Socratic method. You can package them up any way you want to: Coach, Drill and Kill, Answer a Question with a Question, Scientific Method, Discovery Learning, Project-based Learning... call it whatever you want, but it's really just TEACHING.
What is teaching? To me, it's using the best tactic to get across to each student - individually - the content that I'm trying to provide. Now, here's the kicker, and this is also what I think Mr. Kleon was trying to bring around: I'm not trying to give them the knowledge in the hope that they will simply retain it. It is my hope that they will USE it. I want them to expand it. I want them to discover it. I want them to do something with it. I want them to synthesize it. I want them to create something *new*; but it will still be based on what I got from my teachers, that they got from their teachers...
If artists, designers, musicians, creators, and thinkers are thieves - teachers are their fences.
For those of you that are unfamiliar with that term (and I only know because I play the Elder Scrolls video games), a fence is someone that a thief can do business with. Fences deal in stolen goods. They smuggle, trade, and broker for thieves. You can find a more formal definition of this informal use of the word at Urban Dictionary. Teachers are fences. I take what I gained from my teachers, that they stole from their teachers, that they stole from their teachers... and I broker that knowledge to my students. I want them to utilize it for their benefit. I want them to run with it. I want them to re-sell it. I want them to customize it. I want them to trade it in their circles.
Aristotle believed that only intellect was immortal. This passing of conscience understanding from one coherent being to another is the immortality of intellect that he spoke of. The problem is that many of our students are too anesthetized by entertainment, drugs, TV, and other distractions both in and outside of the home, that keep them from being coherent enough to pick up what we're trying to sell. Make no mistake about it, teachers; we are selling. We are hustling ideas. We are moving intellect, and increasingly this particular intellect, creativity, is being labeled as contraband. We have to get it into the mind of the student and get them to begin to experiment before the creative life is sucked from them. Increasingly I can't teach a lesson without an administrator asking me, "How's that going to help test scores?" Could it be that this is the one thing that this kid needs to help him or her understand this concept? If I'm doing things right, the test scores will come.
You're right, Mr. Kleon: Art is theft; Creativity is theft. People that are creative must steal ideas...
...and I'm a fence.
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
Shades of Socrates
You'll have to forgive me this week. I have been maligned. The profession (and it is still a profession!) of teaching has been maligned here in Indiana and throughout our nation. I am a teacher, so I have taken this affront personally. I'm insulted. I'm furious. I'm a man on fire, and I should've been stirred up like this a year or two ago... The first rule of blogging: A blog is not a personal diary. Keep your blog on topic. Don't stray from the topic. No one wants to read about your personal life, save that for facebook. I have tried hard to write strictly on topic and will continue to do so, but not this week. No, this week I must apologize.
To the State of Indiana, The fifty United States of America, and all those in favor of destroying public education with testing "accountability," teacher "incentive", and bad politics:
I'm sorry that I inspire kids to greatness beyond sheets of paper with fill-in-the-blank bubbles on them. I'm sorry that I'm not concerned with how they perform on tests that don't reveal anything to us accept their socio-economic status, geographic location, ethnicity, and how they felt on that given day. I'm sorry that I don't buy in to the idea that if we keep testing them, they'll get better; that if we put more institution in the institution that things will pan out. I'm sorry that I find the idea of labeling students as, "Pass", "Will not pass", and "Borderline" insulting to the kids, the parents, and those of us that have a vision for the future of America.
I'm sorry that I help kids see the world through a view beyond that of their parents. I'm sorry that I coach, mentor, and suggest that students aim beyond their means and try to attain that which is higher, loftier, and sometimes better than themselves. I'm sorry for suggesting that students dream. I'm sorry for connecting kids to the real world - the one that they see on TV without the happy endings. I'm sorry for exposing students to literature, theater, music, art, and other glorious, sacred, and holy things that are eroding away from our society and our culture. I'm sorry for suggesting to our students that they themselves can become creators of these works. I apologize for suggesting that they can perform these tasks; not only that they are capable, but they should be compelled to do so!
I'm sorry for teaching kids about failure. I'm sorry for teaching students how to lose gracefully, shake the other guy's hand and say, "Good job." I apologize for suggesting that not everyone is going to make it, and that you have to work hard to get things done. I'm sorry for believing, perhaps blindly, in the American Dream. My humblest apologies, thinking that students might actually become something besides cheats, crooks, liars, and thieves. I'm sorry for thinking that I might incite them to civil discourse and obedience; to chivalry and romance and general kindness. I'm sorry for thinking that these principles are not dead. I'm sorry that I require them to learn how to listen, how to be silent, and how to sit still for more than a few minutes while not looking at a screen or listening to an ear bud. I'm sorry that I ask them to think, ponder, wonder, and meditate on ideas like Socratic Dualism and Aesthetic Harmony. I'm sorry for asking them to come to class prepared, on time, and ready to work. I'm sorry for suggesting that they not cheat or plagiarize. I'm sorry that these things can't be measured by a test. I apologize for telling kids "no".
I also apologize for saying, "yes". I'm sorry that I tell kids, "You can do this." I'm sorry that I encourage them to do what is right, good, excellent, and academic for themselves and each other. I'm sorry that I expect them to read for entertainment. I'm sorry that I suggest that they pick up the book before they see the movie. I'm sorry that I suggest reading selections to them based upon what they might enjoy. I'm sorry that I expose them to music that is enjoyed by people all over the world and has been for centuries. I'm sorry that I encourage them to view art, go to plays, visit operas, and support the arts.
I'm sorry that I know my students. I know what interests them. I know what entertains them. I know what they enjoy. I know what makes them happy. I'm sorry that I know that, and that I don't marginalize what is meaningful to them. I'm sorry that I let myself have a proper teacher-student friendship with my students. I'm sorry that I spend my summers honing my craft (for no pay) so that when classes resume I will be the best teacher that I can be. I'm sorry that I plan and organize. I'm sorry that I belong to clubs and organizations that make teachers stronger. I'm sorry that I implement best practice. I'm sorry that I work for students even when they don't work for me. I'm sorry that I spend my weekends (and my money) taking students on field trips that expose them to museums, concerts, art, and other great things that they would never see otherwise. I'm sorry that I care.
I'm sorry for my success. I'm sorry that I'm really good at what I do. I'm unabashedly sorry (oh, look, an oxymoron!) that I know that. I apologize that my class is rigorous, relevant, and meaningful beyond the pathetic curriculum the state has given me to instruct. I'm sorry that my class is aesthetic, that it penetrates visual, aural, and kinesthetic levels all at once. I'm sorry that my room cultivates a culture of trust, respect, and responsibility. I'm sorry that I challenge kids and sometimes their parents with the content that I teach. I'm sorry that I have such sway on student minds that they go home and tell their parents what they did in class. I'm sorry that I incite dinner conversations where students ask their family members questions about Love, God, Music, and Art. I apologize to parents for suggesting that they help cultivate these processes of thinking; that they take a role in their student's future. Who am I to suggest that parents talk to their children? Who am I to suggest that parents parent? How foolish of me, I'm sorry.
Mostly, I'm sorry for myself. I'm sorry that my generation has let this country erode to the point where the education system, the last pillar of democracy, will fail. I'm sorry that education has become a political pawn tossed around by people who don't know what they're doing, and care less about kids. I'm sorry that I entered a profession that does not offer incentive to perform, nor incentive to continue (and let's get real: offering more money for better performance on tests is insulting! I wonder if it occurred to anyone that I'm already teaching at my capacity every day? I'm giving 100% at my job!). I'm sorry that my government has forced me to choose between the profession and people I love and caring for my own family, my legitimate one. I'm sorry that the law has watered down who can teach so badly that the people in the classroom will be unprepared and incapable, and therefore, the products of their classrooms will also be unprepared and incapable. I'm sorry for my own children, my three sons and one daughter, that will be subject to myriad tests in school that will offer them no enrichment and tell them nothing save that their own interests are marginal in the worlds of math and science, and that those worlds never collide with art or creativity - which is a lie.
Now, pass the hemlock.
To the State of Indiana, The fifty United States of America, and all those in favor of destroying public education with testing "accountability," teacher "incentive", and bad politics:
I'm sorry that I inspire kids to greatness beyond sheets of paper with fill-in-the-blank bubbles on them. I'm sorry that I'm not concerned with how they perform on tests that don't reveal anything to us accept their socio-economic status, geographic location, ethnicity, and how they felt on that given day. I'm sorry that I don't buy in to the idea that if we keep testing them, they'll get better; that if we put more institution in the institution that things will pan out. I'm sorry that I find the idea of labeling students as, "Pass", "Will not pass", and "Borderline" insulting to the kids, the parents, and those of us that have a vision for the future of America.
I'm sorry that I help kids see the world through a view beyond that of their parents. I'm sorry that I coach, mentor, and suggest that students aim beyond their means and try to attain that which is higher, loftier, and sometimes better than themselves. I'm sorry for suggesting that students dream. I'm sorry for connecting kids to the real world - the one that they see on TV without the happy endings. I'm sorry for exposing students to literature, theater, music, art, and other glorious, sacred, and holy things that are eroding away from our society and our culture. I'm sorry for suggesting to our students that they themselves can become creators of these works. I apologize for suggesting that they can perform these tasks; not only that they are capable, but they should be compelled to do so!
I'm sorry for teaching kids about failure. I'm sorry for teaching students how to lose gracefully, shake the other guy's hand and say, "Good job." I apologize for suggesting that not everyone is going to make it, and that you have to work hard to get things done. I'm sorry for believing, perhaps blindly, in the American Dream. My humblest apologies, thinking that students might actually become something besides cheats, crooks, liars, and thieves. I'm sorry for thinking that I might incite them to civil discourse and obedience; to chivalry and romance and general kindness. I'm sorry for thinking that these principles are not dead. I'm sorry that I require them to learn how to listen, how to be silent, and how to sit still for more than a few minutes while not looking at a screen or listening to an ear bud. I'm sorry that I ask them to think, ponder, wonder, and meditate on ideas like Socratic Dualism and Aesthetic Harmony. I'm sorry for asking them to come to class prepared, on time, and ready to work. I'm sorry for suggesting that they not cheat or plagiarize. I'm sorry that these things can't be measured by a test. I apologize for telling kids "no".
I also apologize for saying, "yes". I'm sorry that I tell kids, "You can do this." I'm sorry that I encourage them to do what is right, good, excellent, and academic for themselves and each other. I'm sorry that I expect them to read for entertainment. I'm sorry that I suggest that they pick up the book before they see the movie. I'm sorry that I suggest reading selections to them based upon what they might enjoy. I'm sorry that I expose them to music that is enjoyed by people all over the world and has been for centuries. I'm sorry that I encourage them to view art, go to plays, visit operas, and support the arts.
I'm sorry that I know my students. I know what interests them. I know what entertains them. I know what they enjoy. I know what makes them happy. I'm sorry that I know that, and that I don't marginalize what is meaningful to them. I'm sorry that I let myself have a proper teacher-student friendship with my students. I'm sorry that I spend my summers honing my craft (for no pay) so that when classes resume I will be the best teacher that I can be. I'm sorry that I plan and organize. I'm sorry that I belong to clubs and organizations that make teachers stronger. I'm sorry that I implement best practice. I'm sorry that I work for students even when they don't work for me. I'm sorry that I spend my weekends (and my money) taking students on field trips that expose them to museums, concerts, art, and other great things that they would never see otherwise. I'm sorry that I care.
I'm sorry for my success. I'm sorry that I'm really good at what I do. I'm unabashedly sorry (oh, look, an oxymoron!) that I know that. I apologize that my class is rigorous, relevant, and meaningful beyond the pathetic curriculum the state has given me to instruct. I'm sorry that my class is aesthetic, that it penetrates visual, aural, and kinesthetic levels all at once. I'm sorry that my room cultivates a culture of trust, respect, and responsibility. I'm sorry that I challenge kids and sometimes their parents with the content that I teach. I'm sorry that I have such sway on student minds that they go home and tell their parents what they did in class. I'm sorry that I incite dinner conversations where students ask their family members questions about Love, God, Music, and Art. I apologize to parents for suggesting that they help cultivate these processes of thinking; that they take a role in their student's future. Who am I to suggest that parents talk to their children? Who am I to suggest that parents parent? How foolish of me, I'm sorry.
Mostly, I'm sorry for myself. I'm sorry that my generation has let this country erode to the point where the education system, the last pillar of democracy, will fail. I'm sorry that education has become a political pawn tossed around by people who don't know what they're doing, and care less about kids. I'm sorry that I entered a profession that does not offer incentive to perform, nor incentive to continue (and let's get real: offering more money for better performance on tests is insulting! I wonder if it occurred to anyone that I'm already teaching at my capacity every day? I'm giving 100% at my job!). I'm sorry that my government has forced me to choose between the profession and people I love and caring for my own family, my legitimate one. I'm sorry that the law has watered down who can teach so badly that the people in the classroom will be unprepared and incapable, and therefore, the products of their classrooms will also be unprepared and incapable. I'm sorry for my own children, my three sons and one daughter, that will be subject to myriad tests in school that will offer them no enrichment and tell them nothing save that their own interests are marginal in the worlds of math and science, and that those worlds never collide with art or creativity - which is a lie.
Now, pass the hemlock.
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