My son takes
trombone lessons from a man who lives 20 miles away. It's a
bit far to trek every Monday afternoon, but I do so because
my son very much enjoys playing trombone in his high school
jazz band and Mr. Bailey was the closest trombone teacher we
could find.
While Mr.
Bailey has been teaching trombone and trumpet for many years,
most of his income comes from his musical instrument repair
business. If you need your clarinet re-corked, or an ultrasonic
cleaning of your flugelhorn, he's your guy. The area band teachers
refer their students to Mr. Bailey and he has had a steady business
for decades.
On our drive
home last Monday, I pondered whether or not Mr. Bailey would
still have a viable business if schools disappeared off the
planet tomorrow. Were it not for school bands, how many clarinets,
trumpets, flutes and flugelhorns would there be in our region
of southern New Hampshire? A hundred years ago, when town bands
were quite popular, perhaps Mr. Bailey could have survived without
the school band programs. But today, I highly doubt there would
be enough to support Mr. Bailey's instrument repair business.
How many
other industries today would be nearly extinct if not for our
school system? Our schools have now become museums of sorts
for many things once commonplace in our daily lives. Sadly,
the world inside school has become so far removed today from
the world outside of school, that it has become a foreign land
that young people find harder and harder to participant in successfully
and enthusiastically.
To get a
sense of this, we need only look at this year's school supply
list for a local elementary school:
30 number two pencils
small bottle of Elmer's glue
pencil cap erasers
one packet of Post-it notes
one box of colored pencils
one box of Kleenex
one package assorted colored construction paper
one ruler
one package: manila drawing paper
three spiral notebooks
one Mead cursive writing tablet
one pencil case
one black-and-white composition book for science
one red pen
one package of lined 3 x 5 index cards
a pair of safety scissors
five pocket folders with brads
loose leaf 3- ring notebook
three packages wide ruled notebook paper
2 boxes of 24-count crayons
It amazes
me to note that with the exception of the Post-it notes and
maybe the missing Big Chief tablet, the list is almost identical
to the one I had when I attended elementary school, way back
in the 1960s.
When I walk
into an elementary school today, I also recognize the physical
environment of the classroom. There is a large analog clock
on the wall, colorful bulletin boards constructed out of butcher
paper and cut-out construction paper, individual laminated student
desks with work storage areas in them, wooden chairs, sitting
on a linoleum floor, a whiteboard with the alphabet written
in cursive running across the top, a wooden teacher desk in
the corner with a computer on it, bookshelves lining one wall
filled with a variety of children's books, a large basket in
the corner with playground equipment such as rubber balls and
ropes.
Other than
the fact that the chalkboard has been replaced by the whiteboard
and there is now a computer sitting on the teacher's desk, the
classroom looks very much like it did when I was in elementary
school all those many decades ago.
How is
it that schools have managed to remain somewhat fixed-in-time,
while the rest of society kept moving? Possibly because schools
have always been centered around literature and the printed
word, while society has moved on to the use of alternate narrative
forms.
The written
word was valuable for hundreds of years because it was the most
stable and durable format we had available for recording ideas
and information. Today though, we have alternate narrative forms
that equal, if not surpass, the advantages of printed literature.
Unfortunately, the concept of integrating alternative literary
devices has instilled fear rather than excitement in many educators.
Thus we cling to our old dogma.
The Chasm
Between School and Home
If I reminisce
back to my early grade-school years, I recall that anticipating
the first day of school was an exciting time. I would eagerly
gather my school supplies together. I would carefully arrange
my pencils in my pencil case, insert it along with the lined
notebook paper into my 3-ring binder, and it all made me feel
part of the grown-up, real world.
For I saw
all these objects used by the adults in my world. My father
used a pencil and slide-rule to calculate loan rates and noted
them in a spiral notebook. My mother wrote lists and letters
on lined paper using a ballpoint pen. Our house was full of
often-used hard cover books such as encyclopedias, cookbooks,
science books and an assortment of reference books. The teller
at the bank would carefully write my small deposits into the
paper passbook I carried in and out with me. I would often accompany
my father to the main Chicago public library where he would
peruse the stacks while doing research for one of his projects.
In other words, the tools used inside my school matched the
tools I saw used outside my school.
My choices
for amusement back then were simple too and what little disparity
existed between school and home, favored school. Our house had
one color television set which sat in the living room on a TV
cart. We had our choice of three channels to watch, which consisted
of game shows in the morning, soap operas in the afternoon,
the nightly news at 6 PM, and a variety of different programs
in the evening. Once a year, they ran The Wizard of Oz, which
was always a much-anticipated event. If I wanted to talk to
a friend in town, I could call her on the corded telephone attached
to the kitchen wall. If I wanted to visit with a friend who
had moved away, I wrote a letter.
Obviously
our lives and homes today are very, very different. Nearly all
of our students have their own personal laptop, Ipad, or at
least share a family computer. The majority of them stay in
touch with their friends either through social networking sites
or by texting on their personal cell phones. The idea of going
to the library to do research would seem ludicrous. In fact,
it is the opinion of most students that if it cannot be found
on the Internet, it is not worth looking for. Most of us rarely
pick up a pencil and paper and the idea of using them to write
a letter is a distant memory.
Television
networks now run programs 24 hours a day with thousands of channels.
Visual and auditory entertainment is available within seconds
with the touch of a button. Access to information and entertainment
is almost unlimited and instantaneous.
Close
the Chasm
Forty years
ago schools were an exciting place to be. It was the place that
we could go to meet and chat with our friends. Books filled
with information were stored in a library just down the hall.
Technology meant that if you were lucky, there would be a filmstrip
to watch during social studies class. And if you were really
lucky, you got to be the chosen student who would sit beside
the projector and flip the filmstrip to the next frame when
the record player sounded the tone.
Teachers
were a wonderful and appreciated source of information. The
pictures in the textbooks provided us with a way to see our
world, and even a brand-new box of 64-count crayons was an exciting
possession.
It doesn't
take a genius to figure out that a box of 64-count crayons or
a teacher's lecture can no longer compete with the excitement
of video gaming, graphic-arts software, and media technology.
And yet somehow we feel justified in expecting students to be
excited about signing off of their computer games, leaving their
media-filled home, taking the music ear-buds out, pocket their
cell phone for the next hour, and sit at the same laminated
desk used by their grandparents. Then pick up a pencil, get
out a piece of lined notebook paper and listen to a teacher
talk in front of the room while the big analog clock stares
down at them reminding how long it will be until they can leave
and go back home, where the amusements and information is now
kept.
Our challenge
as educators is to embrace our shifting role from sage-on-the-stage
to coach-on-the-sidelines. We need to accept the value of alternative
ways of communication and the fact that we are no longer the
sole, nor perhaps even the best source, of information. We need
to rethink how to utilize the variety of media available today,
which equal or exceed traditional ways to communicate the ideas
of a culture and the knowledge of a society.
We must
let go of the old dogma, lest we go the way of the dinosaurs.