Footsteps echo down the empty hallway as the lone figure advances, his gaze steady, a few books tucked under one arm. He turns and places his hand on the doorknob, turns it, and pulls open the squeaky wooden door.
Inside, the students, dressed in their creased slacks and starched cotton, rise quickly and stand with straight backs, eyes steadily focused forward. The man approaches the podium, adjusts his glasses, and looks out over the class. He is an impressive sight; his black robe flows with every movement, the billowing sleeves a reminder of the place he has earned and his right to command respect. It is an honor to stand in his room, to be his pupil.
"Be seated," he says in a firm, commanding tone. It is not rude or condescending, it is the voice of one who understands the way things work, or how they should. The students comply, and quietly retrieve their pencils from their resting place, their notebooks open and ready. No one speaks. They wait in anticipation for the class to begin, anxious to learn from this well-respected teacher.
Leap forward with me 75 years. Compare the scene above to the one below:
The halls are full and noisy and chaotic. Students are standing, walking, running. Backpacks are loaded with books and binders. The din is so loud one can hardly think. Voices must be raised to even be heard.
A professor makes her way through the chaos and into her room, approaches the podium virtually unnoticed and begins unpacking and preparing for class. She is dressed simply; khaki slacks and a pink blouse. After a moment or two she encourages the students to find their seats and get settled. She waits, watching them unload computers, look for pencils and paper and organize themselves. Again, she encourages them to quiet down and prepare for class.
Stragglers continue to enter the room. They do not enter quietly and slide up the side unnoticed but walk boldly in front of the podium, waving to a fellow student in the third row. This one has bed- head hair and is wearing a wrinkled t-shirt and sweat pants. His shoe is untied.
The professor makes an introduction, announces the class title and room number, and immediately one or two students begin packing frantically to exit the room. She waits. Ten minutes has passed. Another straggler enters and says to the professor in a loud voice, "Is this Sociology 101?" She nods and the person climbs the stairs looking for an empty seat.
Outside the door the noise has lessened, but students continue their conversations, laughing in tones more suitable for the beach than the halls of higher learning. The professor closes the door, walks back to the podium, and begins her lecture. Students recline in their chairs, send text messages, and fiddle with pencils while they wait for sudden enlightenment to fall like manna from heaven.
I get so tired of hearing the politicians (known as pols these days because everything has to be abbreviated, you know, that's the sign of an enlightened culture) and lobbyists - oops - I'm sorry - constituents - blather on about how our educational system can be fixed by the new common core because it is sponsored by Bill and Melinda Gates, of all people. Are we that naive? Apparently, yes.
Our culture has changed since World War II. Of course it has; it is a living, breathing thing and it will ever seek out what is new and exciting. I have always believed that this is because we want to continue to grow and learn.
My grandfather, a veteran of the Great War, used to tell me two things: "Family is everything" and "Get an education." These were his mantras. He himself grew up during the depression. As one of seven, college was not an option since there was no money. He joined the Royal Air Force before the US entered the war. After Pearl Harbor, his younger brother joined the Navy and his older the Army. Amazingly enough, they all survived the war.
He put himself through business school, and retained his aeronautical skills he had learned from the Air Force. He opened his Aeronautics business in Oklahoma City servicing and building parts and equipment for aircraft of all sizes. He did well and was very successful. His is the great American story.
But he knew he was lucky, in addition to all the effort and hard work. He knew it easily could all go south in a heartbeat.
Last year I took my children to Arlington Cemetary on Memorial Day. There were so many veterans there and we shook their hands and thanked them for their service. Many were in wheelchairs, old and infirm. Their generation will soon be gone and I worry the stories will no longer be told.
What does all this have to do with education? Everything.
For example, today in America teachers get no respect. No, listen. Teaching is a capitalistic role; if you can get people to enroll in your class, workshop, forum, etc. you can teach! Congratulations! No degree required! Hang your sign out on the internet and go for it!
To be a teacher, one used to have to study for four years and obtain a bachelor's degree. Then one had to at least get a master's degree, and many times a PhD. Even today, most college professors are required to at least have a master's. The difference is what was taught then versus now. But even if we excuse the fact that languages are obsolete and humanities extinct, teachers get little respect from those they teach.
Why? That's the question. My theory is simple: if everyone can do it then it is not special and it must be easy. These assumptions are wrong, of course, but they are rampant and commonly held beliefs in society today. Why else would ANYONE believe that because a person was a billionaire they must know how to choose curriculum for every child in every American school? Why? Because we are a capitalist nation and the almighty dollar defines how smart you are. Didn't you know that?
It makes my gorge rise, or maybe that's last night's dinner. No, I think not.
I went to college and grad school and paid for it myself. I have immense debt because of it which causes me great angst and distress. That's my problem. I get that. But there is something that I got that others don't and shouldn't have: license to teach. I earned it. And honestly, I am passionate about it. I am a professor of the first degree above; I command respect because I am worthy of it and I earned it. I know that a student who will give me the respect I deserve as their teacher will learn far more than their counterpart. I give that respect back, however I retain all rights in the classroom: grades are earned, not given. I will not bargain for awards when no work has been done. I had a little run in with this at a college where I worked. My bell curve was off. Oh dear, I was not getting statistical results in my room! No, my results reflected the student's work, period.
An amazing thing happened during those years, my students rose to my standards. Many of them made the A's and B's they wanted, but they earned them. I tried to prepare them for a world where they would have to work hard to achieve success. Because that's what it used to take.
But now America has a different plan. You all get A's. You all are successful, even if you make minimum wage because we are going to keep raising it to give you self-fulfillment. That's easier than motivating you to go make something better of yourself. Oh, and we're also going to destroy all ideals and faiths, and devalue the person until we are all seen as nothing more than organisms.
Seriously, take my antiquated advice: If you are a student, be a student. Don't try to be a teacher (I mean the kind of teacher who charges high prices and has specialized skills) until you have earned the right to teach. Raise our standards in this country. Respect those who have earned this position. Learn to teach small things by observing and practicing through the family, apprenticing, seeking internships, etc. Students have much to offer in this way and skills can begin to be developed. But a little humility would do this country good. You may be the best at doing something, but that doesn't make you a good teacher.
I love to teach. It is my passion. I get no greater joy than from seeing a student learn skills and succeed with them. The money? What money, I love to teach so much sometimes I do it for almost nothing. What gets my hackles up is when I see people teach because they want to earn a buck and they haven't earned the right because they haven't bothered to learn to teach. It's an art. But then, no one reads Aristotle's Poetics anymore either, so who knows what art is?
Let the teacher's teach. Let the students learn, intern, and become teachers through training and higher education. Only in this way we will retain the art of teaching. But we must hurry, because the skill is rapidly losing ground.
Inside, the students, dressed in their creased slacks and starched cotton, rise quickly and stand with straight backs, eyes steadily focused forward. The man approaches the podium, adjusts his glasses, and looks out over the class. He is an impressive sight; his black robe flows with every movement, the billowing sleeves a reminder of the place he has earned and his right to command respect. It is an honor to stand in his room, to be his pupil.
"Be seated," he says in a firm, commanding tone. It is not rude or condescending, it is the voice of one who understands the way things work, or how they should. The students comply, and quietly retrieve their pencils from their resting place, their notebooks open and ready. No one speaks. They wait in anticipation for the class to begin, anxious to learn from this well-respected teacher.
Leap forward with me 75 years. Compare the scene above to the one below:
The halls are full and noisy and chaotic. Students are standing, walking, running. Backpacks are loaded with books and binders. The din is so loud one can hardly think. Voices must be raised to even be heard.
A professor makes her way through the chaos and into her room, approaches the podium virtually unnoticed and begins unpacking and preparing for class. She is dressed simply; khaki slacks and a pink blouse. After a moment or two she encourages the students to find their seats and get settled. She waits, watching them unload computers, look for pencils and paper and organize themselves. Again, she encourages them to quiet down and prepare for class.
Stragglers continue to enter the room. They do not enter quietly and slide up the side unnoticed but walk boldly in front of the podium, waving to a fellow student in the third row. This one has bed- head hair and is wearing a wrinkled t-shirt and sweat pants. His shoe is untied.
The professor makes an introduction, announces the class title and room number, and immediately one or two students begin packing frantically to exit the room. She waits. Ten minutes has passed. Another straggler enters and says to the professor in a loud voice, "Is this Sociology 101?" She nods and the person climbs the stairs looking for an empty seat.
Outside the door the noise has lessened, but students continue their conversations, laughing in tones more suitable for the beach than the halls of higher learning. The professor closes the door, walks back to the podium, and begins her lecture. Students recline in their chairs, send text messages, and fiddle with pencils while they wait for sudden enlightenment to fall like manna from heaven.
I get so tired of hearing the politicians (known as pols these days because everything has to be abbreviated, you know, that's the sign of an enlightened culture) and lobbyists - oops - I'm sorry - constituents - blather on about how our educational system can be fixed by the new common core because it is sponsored by Bill and Melinda Gates, of all people. Are we that naive? Apparently, yes.
Our culture has changed since World War II. Of course it has; it is a living, breathing thing and it will ever seek out what is new and exciting. I have always believed that this is because we want to continue to grow and learn.
My grandfather, a veteran of the Great War, used to tell me two things: "Family is everything" and "Get an education." These were his mantras. He himself grew up during the depression. As one of seven, college was not an option since there was no money. He joined the Royal Air Force before the US entered the war. After Pearl Harbor, his younger brother joined the Navy and his older the Army. Amazingly enough, they all survived the war.
He put himself through business school, and retained his aeronautical skills he had learned from the Air Force. He opened his Aeronautics business in Oklahoma City servicing and building parts and equipment for aircraft of all sizes. He did well and was very successful. His is the great American story.
But he knew he was lucky, in addition to all the effort and hard work. He knew it easily could all go south in a heartbeat.
Last year I took my children to Arlington Cemetary on Memorial Day. There were so many veterans there and we shook their hands and thanked them for their service. Many were in wheelchairs, old and infirm. Their generation will soon be gone and I worry the stories will no longer be told.
What does all this have to do with education? Everything.
For example, today in America teachers get no respect. No, listen. Teaching is a capitalistic role; if you can get people to enroll in your class, workshop, forum, etc. you can teach! Congratulations! No degree required! Hang your sign out on the internet and go for it!
To be a teacher, one used to have to study for four years and obtain a bachelor's degree. Then one had to at least get a master's degree, and many times a PhD. Even today, most college professors are required to at least have a master's. The difference is what was taught then versus now. But even if we excuse the fact that languages are obsolete and humanities extinct, teachers get little respect from those they teach.
Why? That's the question. My theory is simple: if everyone can do it then it is not special and it must be easy. These assumptions are wrong, of course, but they are rampant and commonly held beliefs in society today. Why else would ANYONE believe that because a person was a billionaire they must know how to choose curriculum for every child in every American school? Why? Because we are a capitalist nation and the almighty dollar defines how smart you are. Didn't you know that?
It makes my gorge rise, or maybe that's last night's dinner. No, I think not.
I went to college and grad school and paid for it myself. I have immense debt because of it which causes me great angst and distress. That's my problem. I get that. But there is something that I got that others don't and shouldn't have: license to teach. I earned it. And honestly, I am passionate about it. I am a professor of the first degree above; I command respect because I am worthy of it and I earned it. I know that a student who will give me the respect I deserve as their teacher will learn far more than their counterpart. I give that respect back, however I retain all rights in the classroom: grades are earned, not given. I will not bargain for awards when no work has been done. I had a little run in with this at a college where I worked. My bell curve was off. Oh dear, I was not getting statistical results in my room! No, my results reflected the student's work, period.
An amazing thing happened during those years, my students rose to my standards. Many of them made the A's and B's they wanted, but they earned them. I tried to prepare them for a world where they would have to work hard to achieve success. Because that's what it used to take.
But now America has a different plan. You all get A's. You all are successful, even if you make minimum wage because we are going to keep raising it to give you self-fulfillment. That's easier than motivating you to go make something better of yourself. Oh, and we're also going to destroy all ideals and faiths, and devalue the person until we are all seen as nothing more than organisms.
Seriously, take my antiquated advice: If you are a student, be a student. Don't try to be a teacher (I mean the kind of teacher who charges high prices and has specialized skills) until you have earned the right to teach. Raise our standards in this country. Respect those who have earned this position. Learn to teach small things by observing and practicing through the family, apprenticing, seeking internships, etc. Students have much to offer in this way and skills can begin to be developed. But a little humility would do this country good. You may be the best at doing something, but that doesn't make you a good teacher.
I love to teach. It is my passion. I get no greater joy than from seeing a student learn skills and succeed with them. The money? What money, I love to teach so much sometimes I do it for almost nothing. What gets my hackles up is when I see people teach because they want to earn a buck and they haven't earned the right because they haven't bothered to learn to teach. It's an art. But then, no one reads Aristotle's Poetics anymore either, so who knows what art is?
Let the teacher's teach. Let the students learn, intern, and become teachers through training and higher education. Only in this way we will retain the art of teaching. But we must hurry, because the skill is rapidly losing ground.
