This is a loaded question, no?What should schooling provide individuals and society? What knowledge, skills, and abilities are critical, are valued and valuable? (In this regard, we might ask what does a good education afford?)
A colleague of mine often reduces such an argument down to an economic perspective: in a world of limited resources, what choices and decisions allow for individuals and societies to be successful? This line of reasoning allows us to say what we teach children today shapes their potential tomorrow.
So I ask you, what is a good education?
What do we want children to know and do that will provide them the ability to manage their lives successfully in a world of limited resources? [Does this question properly frame the issue?]
In an earlier post, I noted that there appears to be two paradigms currently shaping the education debate. In my analysis, I chose to examine the debate from the extremes thus polarizing each side in a somewhat reductionist fashion. As such my writing suggested a certain Procrustean level of captivation by what I was attempting to resist, i.e., suggesting the replacement of one dominant paradigm with another. My intention was to give voice to both sides in an attempt to shape my understanding of the situation. And as such, a wonderful discussion ensued.
Two stories
In an attempt to reframe the question of what entails a good education, I am reminded of two stories I heard as a child. Henny-Penny was pecking corn in the yard when something hit her on the head. She deduced that the sky was falling and being the good citizen that she was, she decided to run and tell the king. On her way she met up with several friends, shared her news, and together they raced to tell the king their finding. On their way to the king they ran across a fox who convinced them to take a short cut through his cave wherein all but Henny-Penny was killed.
Now Henny-Penny strikes me as a one without a very good education. Having a limited grasp of science, she leapt to conclusions without much evidence and thus was responsible for the death of several of her friends: the proverbial blind leading the blind model.
Following the avian meme, the story of the Little Red Hen takes a different tack. In this tale, Little Red Hen finds a grain of wheat while scratching in the field. She reckons that the grain should be planted and asks her barnyard mates, “who will plant the grain?” Her friends disavow themselves of any such responsibility and the hen plants the grain herself. The wheat grows, needs threshing and milling and the hen inquires of her friends who will help with said tasks. None of her friends are interested in helping her so she does it all herself. Finally, the hen bakes the flour into bread and asks her friends who would like to eat the lovely bread, wherein all her friends agree that they would love to; however, the hen denies them this opportunity and eats it all herself.
In this tale, the hen was educated enough to know the value of a grain of wheat. Rather than doing all the work and sharing with others, she decides to reap the rewards of her labor and coincidentally, teach her friends a “lesson.”
There are many lens’ by which both of these stories can be interpreted (politically, socially, economically, etc.) In many cases, if we consider our current state of public education, the sky is always falling, graduation rates are falling, test scores falling, etc. Perhaps it would be worth inquiring who is responsible for this news? What facts are being used to clearly determine that we are indeed in a crisis situation? Is it possible that reporters and researchers are generalizing about a large population (e.g., students) using insufficient samples? When in a crisis mode, we tend to react without putting much thought into the consequences of our actions a la Henny-Penny. For example, when a test designed to measure a child’s reading ability is used to measure a child’s reading ability, we have a sense that the results are helpful for both educators and the student. However, when this same test is used to determine whether the same child should be retained or held back a year in school, that is an inappropriate use of the test (i.e., that isn’t what the test was designed to measure – whether the child was capable of moving on to the next grade level). In other words, is the crisis in education a reality for all children or is situational, a result of bad planning and decision-making in a particular set of environments?
Similarly, the tale of the Little Red Hen reminds me of what happens when school districts, planners, and legislatures use information and research inappropriately.
The tale of the Little Red Hen also reminds me of educators who successfully integrate appropriate technologies into their classrooms. I have witnessed and heard tales of teachers working hard for their students, inspiring them in wholesale ways while their teammates, colleagues, and administration idly standby refusing to get involved, yet insist on taking credit for student success. Perhaps this is where the real crisis lies.
Henny-Penny and the Little Red Hen represent different ways to look at relationships and the affects they have on others. And like life, I believe it is safe to say that a good education is about relationships. Most educational crises are the result of poor political and economic decisions. Thus a good education is a matter of people caring enough to work in concert to support the appropriate needs of both individuals and society as a whole.
The models for accomplishing this task may differ. So I ask you: is it important that we all agree on a specific set of guidelines from which we can base our educational goals? The United Nations offers two such guidelines here and here. Do these same types of guidelines need to be adopted by educators across the globe? Will this get most of us pointed in the right direction? What would the consequences be?
Perhaps this asking too much given free will; however your thoughts and comments are welcomed.
Comments
There's lies, damn lies and statistics. Having had some statistics in college, they are a dangerous thing and can be so manipulated to show just about what ever the person espousing them wants to prove. I often think that political leanings from which ever side often determine the intepretation of the statistics.
I think that every school should be on an improvement plan.
My grandmother always said "When you're green, you're growing and when you're ripe, you rot." I think it is a matter of being passionate about improvement, about being better.
Every year, I attempt to add just a little more to what I teach. I want to be better and improve. I want to do a little more. Yes, if it works, keep it but if it works, what is wrong with improving it.
If we all work to be a little better, then there is steady improvement. It sounds idealistic and yes it is, however as a teacher, I have influence over only my classroom. If all teachers work to improve their domain and to never settle, that is a step in the right direction. I think Marzano also has a lot of good points about getting teachers not to work harder but to focus on "the right work."
Excellent post!
with all due respect..your nuts...
most good people, and hens, try to do the right thing. sometimes trying to do the right thing causes misunderstandings.
and things get out of hand. thats reality.
heres the moral of the story...
After this, I learned some preschool-level stories that we could play with. I’d tell a story, then she’d choose a part for herself and we’d tell it to each other. It wasn’t long before she began trading parts with me.
One day I went to wake her from her nap and discovered her whispering to herself. I’d caught her in rehearsal.
"Mommy, I know the whole story of ‘Henny Penny’ all the way through!" she said. Then she told it to me -- and to anyone else who would listen.
The day I taught her the story of "The Little Red Hen," we told it together a few times, and then she stopped with a little frown. Something didn’t seem right to her.
The story begins as the Little Red Hen finds a grain of wheat and asks which of the other animals in the barnyard will help her plant it. Nobody will help. "Very well, then," she replies, "I will do it myself." No one helps her with harvesting, threshing, taking the wheat to the mill or baking bread. But she has her revenge: The fruit of her labors, fresh homemade bread, is shared with her chicks while the hungry animals look on in shame.
This disturbed Katerina. It wasn’t right, she said, that the hen didn’t share the bread. When I pointed out that it was because the other animals had not helped the hen, she decided to change it.
With this step, she did what storytellers through the ages have done: She made the story her own.
Here’s "The Little Red Hen," as told by Katerina Slape:
The Little Red Hen was scratching for food and found a grain of wheat. "Who will help me plant the wheat?" asked the Little Red Hen.
"I will," said the cat. "I will," said the dog. "I will," said the duck.
"Thank you," said the Little Red Hen. And they planted the wheat together.
(As her version continues, the cat, dog and duck cheerfully help the hen harvest and thresh the wheat, haul it to the mill and bring home the flour.)
"Who will help me bake some bread?" asked the Little Red Hen.
"I will," said the cat. "I will," said the dog. "I will," said the duck.
"Thank you," said the Little Red Hen. And they baked a delicious loaf of bread.
"Who will help me eat the bread?" asked the Little Red Hen.
"I will," said the cat. "I will," said the dog. "I will," said the duck.
And they got their babies and they all shared the bread.
(This story originally appeared in 1993 in the Longview (Wash.) Daily News)
Author Information:Name: Leslie Slape