Skip to main content

Why Home Education? (A Series, Pt 2)

Modern Schooling is an Artificial Construct

Yesterday I had a conversation with an adult who is an expert in the medical/psychological needs of children. This person is not an educator but we were talking about school. 

I was making a point by contrasting two types of students I've taught. 

Student A: super hard worker, always on time to class, comes prepared, completes every assignment, spends hours on even the most trivial of worksheet, doesn't score real high on tests but gets good grades because they do every bit of busywork, doesn't take the real hard classes but has a high GPA. 

Student B: risk-averse, reluctant, never speaks in class if they can avoid it, may or may not complete any assignments, almost always turns things in late, aces the tests so passes classes despite doing very little schoolwork, ironically is most engaged and gets the best grades in the hardest classes but has a lower GPA overall. 

After describing these students from an academic standpoint we moved on to discussing each type of learner's emotional needs. And here is what this expert said in referring back to Student A v. Student B. He called the first student, "smart". Why? Because in my description I'd said that Student A had a higher GPA than Student B.

Uhm, no. Student A remembers very little of what they've learned, that A or B grade they earned is indicative of nothing. The construct of school--which rewards busywork--has artificially propped up a student with mid-level intelligence and little true ability. That same construct--rewarding busywork--has simultaneously squashed Student B, who really does understand but is not engaged with the content due to the endless barrier of busywork, and made him appear less qualified/educated/successful, etc. 

The modern construct of schooling rewards busywork and disregards true learning. Actual comprehension and ability to apply the concepts is irrelevant. In fact, there isn't even an opportunity to demonstrate application of concepts. Once in awhile we'll find a great teacher who's been teaching for decades who has held onto old projects where kids have to do something (e.g. the egg drop challenge). Everyone remembers and talks about those projects because they are so rare. Because meaningful application of concepts is now the exception to the norm. How sad is that?

And, even more concerning, what happens to Student A when they graduate? Most kids are kinda okay, but this very specific type of student, the one who has actually understood nothing but thinks they're successful because of their grades, really hits a wall when they graduate. Real life actually requires real skills. Unless this student can find a meaningless-busywork job (and, yes, they do exist) they cannot succeed. 

But what a horrible life. Doomed to a life of endless check boxes and rote tasks that anyone could do, that require no specific talent or skill. Aren't these the people who experience a mid-life crises at some point? Aren't we setting them up to one day look around and wonder if their existence ever had any meaning? 

That's not the life I want for my children. 

I want my children's school years to be a time when they learn to struggle and master difficult concepts. I want them to return to a task over and over again until they can demonstrate real-world application of the concept. I want them to connect all subject areas by deeply understanding the relationship between all living things and all of the human story. I want them to know there is meaning and to seek it passionately. 

Modern schooling has completely lost sight of learning. Think about that. Modern schooling is about grades. It's about the outcome. We special ed teachers tie ourselves in knots modifying and adapting and then cramming with kids so they can get "the right grade"on a test. Because the grade is what matters. 

I picture the modern school like this: imagine you signed up for a cooking class. You show up and at every work station every single food item has already been prepped. An array of bowls holding pre-measured and pre-chopped foods is laid out, left to right, in the order you'll need them to make the dish. A giant recipe card has pictures and arrows and illustrations beautifully laid out showing you exactly what and when to pour and stir. It's a fun environment. The instructor has music playing and is making the dish along with you at the front of the room under a video camera displaying her work station on a giant screen so you can just follow along when you're prompted to do the next thing. 

At the end of the night you pull your baked dish out of the oven, take it home, and everyone loves it. Success! But...really? If you don't know how to chop an onion, did you learn a cooking skill? If you don't know what frying onions look and smell like when they're done, did you learn how to interact with the material? If you can't even remember the ingredients of that dish or what temp it baked at, do you truly know how to make it again? 

That's modern schooling. Teachers are working so, so hard these days. They're exhausting themselves  pre-chopping and pre-measuring by creating the most detailed study guides, interactive videos, super fun app-based study tools, etc. etc. etc. Teachers have made the classroom so fun and busy (to replicate the world of video games) that children aren't ever asked to concentrate in a quiet room and think for themselves anymore. 

Our children are leaving school without either the skills of learning (focus, classification, memorization, attention to detail, self-assessment, etc.) or having mastered the actual content ("I'll just Google it.").

This is why I believe we have to completely leave the entire construct of the modern school. Ironically, I believe the modern school is the last place my children would learn to learn.

 


 

 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Separation for Me

 One more note about yesterday. I noticed that when the girls were acting up yesterday I truly was not angry. I felt back in my old EI teacher groove where I could calmly observe and reflect to a student but never feel personally involved in the drama. It felt so nice! The equilibriam I was famous for when teaching but that I've struggled to find in my own home.  Being away was so good for me. Thinking other thoughts; being competent around other smart people. Life affirming to me as a human, not just the mother-drone trapped in a small house doing small things repeatedly all day long.  I absolutely have to have professional level conversation and interactions to maintain my sanity. Essential.

Practice

 This morning I was preparing Jane for her day. Upbeat and warm, but factual. Running through my expectations for her (be kind to others, tell the truth, don't sneak) and the consequences (removal from play with others). It's a familiar routine and she participated in it easily. But at the end her face hardened and she was angry. I asked her to name her feelings. First she attempted to deflect, said she felt sad. I asked again. This time she looked me dead in the eye and said, "talking about the bad things makes me want to do them".  Well, at least she's honest. (which, truly, is huge) I asked her tell me more. She said that me telling her she can't lie makes her want to lie just to see if she can get away with it. (The honest truth is that when she said that it made me angry, just want to lock her in her room forever. I have to fight my impulse and not show any reaction that would feed into, and distract from, the goal. But it's hard for me to walk away f

Inaugural Post

I think I need to write a blog. I keep searching for good blogs about foster care and none are exactly what I'm looking for. I need to read the work of deeply thinking people who are wrestling with the realities of opening their homes to strangers. But please be funny, too. And, mostly, I need to hear from people whose agenda does not include evangelizing--neither the Christian faith nor the lesbian lifestyle. I respect you both, but I'd rather just hear about the kids, thanks. So, here's the background info I'm always curious about when people provide a peek into their homes. Because context is everything. I'm Beth*. My husband, Theo, and I have been married for 17 years. We have three sons: Seth (16), Gus (12), and James (3). On November 30, 2018, we had two foster girls, Jane (3) and Kate (1) placed in our home. This is our first foster care placement. We are open to both fostering and adoption. (*All names are pseudonyms.) We live in the middle of the mi