Welcome to the blog section of Room613. Here we'll be sharing some thoughts about Jewish homeschooling, out of our unique experiences and perspectives. Kids are welcome to blog too!We look forward to an open exchange of ideas.
Watch this Blog Notify me by e-mail any time a new post is made to this blog.
Musings on Education, Homeschooling, & Life
January 2012 Posts
Archives
"Institutions matter," or so goes the truism in political science. It's such a fundamental concept that it becomes its own joke from time to time -- bantered about by fellow nerdy academicians commenting on each others' peer-reviewed articles. Joking aside though, it's true. Hugh Heclo, a political scientist who wrote a book called "On Thinking Institutionally," says that "institutions enable us to be mindful in certain ways, exercising a particular form of attentiveness to meaning in the world.”
I had a meeting this week with someone who was seeking to learn more about the Montessori method and how it might be incorporated into a more traditional preschool environment. I found myself (after showing a video about Maria Montessori's life and some of her contributions to education as well as womens' rights) struggling to articulate how very different the basic assumptions are about children and their learning process in Montessori's view versus the traditional education framework.
Most teachers truly desire to do good -- to teach children, broaden their thinking and development, encourage them to work hard and be lifelong learners. But the underlying premise of the industrialized system of education that characterizes modern schooling is one which rejects the notion of the child as an autonomous human being, worthy of respect, and capable of driving his or her own learning. Our system is based on the Prussian model -- so many of our schools named after Horace Mann, the architect of the American public education system -- which elevated rote learning and social conformity above independence of thought. And despite band-aid approaches meant to reform the system and address the seeming lack of motivation and 'achievement' (however arbitrarily that might be measured) you can't get past the basic character of the system: in other words, the structure of the institution, matters.
Learning in my first Foundations of Montessori Principles course, I came across the educational and developmental theories of giants like Piaget and Vygotsky. At the moment I can't find my notes (due to a cross-country move) but I distinctly recall writing a very deeply considered essay on the power of how social construct shapes language development; and how language development shapes the very way we are able to think. It's as if the neural pathways are directed through a specific mental maze, whose corridors then become concretized and predisposed to shape the development of ideas. (If someone can remind me whose theory this was and show me the citation, I'd really appreciate it!) Similarly, babies are born with the potential to utter all phonemic sounds, but as language develops, their verbal skills are reduced to the construct of their native language(s) and making sounds that are not part of the phonemic linguistic family becomes difficult if not impossible later in life.
What's the point? Well the point is that our educational system as it's currently conceived and modeled shapes our paradigms, or to put it in more 'with it' technological parlance -- our default. Our default is that our schools are graded by age, our kids are tracked by 'ability,' and achievement and progress is measured by arbitrary standardized tests. Success is defined chiefly by the ability to repeat back large quantities of information accurately and speedily. It is not until university -- or, to be honest, sometimes graduate school if *even* then -- that the ability to think critically, challenge the conventional wisdom, and articulate a reasoned analysis is honed. Sure, there are exceptions, but they tend to highlight the rule rather than counter it.
When an educator (or parent, or anyone for that matter) discovers a new approach, it is very hard work to make that paradigm shift. No matter how well meaning, challenging one's own deeply held assumptions and expectations about education and how it (should, or does) look is a disruptive and somewhat disturbing experience. Even more so is seeking to express one's new outlook to others who may or may not be receptive to disturbing their own equilibrium of paradigm.
If this is true for a relatively well known (if not well understood or implemented) idea like Montessori, kal v'chomer with homeschooling. Let's face it -- homeschooling upends the paradigm by challenging not only the accepted and expected ideas about 'what children (should) do' but also sends an arrow straight into the heart of societal norms about what role school is meant to play in the construction of civic participants. Homeschoolers understand that there is no more deeply patriotic act than encouraging strong character and self-directed, independent learners. But to the 'man on the street' as it were, the act of pulling children out of school (or never putting them there in the first place) is a tremendously subversive act.
The Torah reminds us that free will is dependent upon a person being knowledgeable enough to choose wisely. Being an independent thinker and challenging commonly held assumptions and paradigms is a path to growth both intellectual and spiritual. Like all growth, it can be uncomfortable and disturbing. Yet we all stand to gain.
What do you think?
Anyone who knows me in real (or virtually real) life knows that I am a Facebook fan. Admittedly it took me some time to get the hang of social media (and I still don't tweet or anything else). Yet I find it a truly invaluable tool: I am privileged to have traveled far and wide in my life, both literally and metaphorically, and I love being able to keep in touch with old and new friends. Without Facebook, I would long ago have lost touch with many of them and never come to appreciate the facets and idiosyncrasies of people whom I usually only 'know' in one aspect of life.
At the risk of admitting to the preoccupation with navel-gazing that Facebook is by definition, I also must admit to the truth -- Facebook gives me an opportunity to display facets of my own personality and idiosyncrasies that would otherwise never be known by many of my friends (who also may only know me in 'one' way -- professionally, or as a La Leche League leader, or from shul, or from my running group, or from high school or university or graduate school). I think there are those who are surprised (maybe even dismayed) at my more maverick qualities.
Lately I've been somewhat (okay very) engrossed (obsessed?) with Montessori philosophy, homeschooling, and questions about education theory. I've found some very interesting posts on the internet and shared them on my Facebook page. Interestingly in some cases they've provoked a bit of controversial discussion in the comments. This was intriguing (if unexpected); especially because agreement and disagreement, thoughtful comments, and passionate support came from friends from widely disparate places in my life.
The most recent 'machloket' (controversy) started with a post on the (misplaced?) diagnosis of ADD/ADHD in schooled children and the effects of this 'medicate them!' culture on our kids, schools, and long term attitudes toward learning. The comments began with a bit of an argument over whether medication is a 'good or bad' thing -- and whether schools tend to bully parents into compliance with their identification of kids as having neurological challenges.
Quickly however the discussion changed, focusing on whether homeschooling is a choice only the wealthy can make -- the presumption being that it requires one full time, stay-at-home parent and one full time, employed-outside-the-home-earning-income parent. The person who made that point was quickly and roundly informed that all kinds of families homeschool, and can be very creative with arrangements in order to make that happen.
The whole thing got me thinking further about this whole category of social assumptions. I think society has carried us to a place where we equate 'more money' with 'upward mobility.' "The race to nowhere" is not just about a standardized, industrialized education system which values outcomes over process. It's also about a whole cultural mindset that gives the explicit message that anything less than 'more' is a failure.
When families make a choice to simplify, to identify priorities that are *not* about quantity but rather about quality (time, education, etc.) -- it can be disconcerting to others. It challenges assumptions about what 'success' means. There are entire blogs devoted to the 'cost of being Orthodox.' We pay more, supposedly, for food, for housing, for education. It's true: if we stick to the norm -- live in the 'main' frum communities, eat meat frequently, and send the kids to day school -- it is very expensive. If, however, a family makes different choices: to live a bit farther out; to choose a diet less meat-centric; to home school -- the economics change.
I don't have the 'answers.' I think it's a fascinating question, this challenging of assumptions. Homeschooling families by definition are mavericks, bucking the trend of what's expected and accepted. It could be that a self-selecting group of people who are more inclined to examine choices in education differently anyway are also more willing to be open to other lifestyle choices that take them away from the mainstream (simplifying, vegetarianism, or whatever). I don't know.
I do know that Facebook can be a terrific window into new ideas and to appreciating others in a new way.
In reading The Homeschooling Option: How to Decide When It's Right for Your Family by Lisa Rivero today, I came across this quote:
"I am beginning to suspect all elaborate and special systems of education. They seem to be built upon the supposition that every child is a kind of idiot who must be taught to think. Whereas if the child is left to himself, he will think more and better, if less 'showily.' Let him come and go freely, let him touch real things and combine his impressions for himself... Teaching fills the mind with artificial associations that must be got rid of before the child can develop independent ideas out of actual experiences." —Anne Sullivan, teacher of Helen Keller
The quote really resonated with me. I think it gets to the very heart of the matter: are children to be passive receptors of information; or are we aiming to nurture passionate pursuers of knowledge? On the face of it, I'm pretty sure that just about anyone—teachers in conventional schools and bureaucrats included—would claim the latter. But is that true?
There is no small amount of evidence that seems to show that the idea of child-as-passive-receptor is by far the most common foundation of education. And even many homeschoolers rely on this assumption though they might not acknowledge it as such or even realize its presence. Some approaches to schooling—whether in the home or in the academy—are pretty explicit about this idea as a foundational theme, and make no apologies for it, the idea being that until children reach a point of maturity when they can develop independent cognitive skills, it's up to adults to 'teach' the information to the point of saturation.
The interesting thing is, I don't disagree with the notion that there are some foundational skills and concepts that are necessary benchmarks for children to achieve. As a social scientist, I value not only actual literacy but cultural, historical, and contextual literacy as well. It seems that would necessitate the 'giving over' of information, especially in the absence of individual interest or initiative in a child.
But the truth is that as an educator what I see is the following: students who know a lot of information are often blocked by the facts they 'know' from being able to evaluate those same facts. Kids from 'good schools' (and my recent immersion in the literature of Alfie Kohn makes me sort of shudder to type that) have great reservoirs of facts at their disposal, any (and all?) of which may show up on any number of standardized tests from the basic to the advanced. Does that mean that they know what to do with the facts? Not at all.
Kids who develop a passion in a certain area retain not only facts, but understand how those facts work together in the greater scheme of life. One of my most fascinating moments as a Montessori educator was realizing that one of my students—a middle school child challenged by autism and a variety of difficult behaviors—was focused and passionate about one subject: the Civil War. But through the lens of the Civil War, and his research on it, he was driven to understanding skills and concepts from every possible discipline—not just the dry facts of history, but the mathematics and physics and science of weapons and warfare (and weather, which affected the battles, topography, etc.); geography; civics and governance; and yes, history. It was a lesson in unit studies for one, and in true Montessori fashion, he taught his peers as he learned.
You can't plan that into a curriculum. You can't possibly foresee what a particular student will find a passion for. But an educator—whether a parent or professional—who is open to passion vs. reception can take that football and run it down the field, if you'll forgive the sports reference. It's not all that difficult to be responsive to the whole child. It still serves the purpose of educating in important foundational skills (reading, writing, math, science). It's just out of the box. It requires creative planning and thinking, and a willingness to let go of control.
And that, I think, is another key—control. Who has the control? Who gets to say who's in charge? Teachers (bureaucrats too!) are worried about losing control of their learning environment, and the truth is their fears are often not unfounded. First rule of the first day of teaching as brought down by the Holy Writ Of Teachers: SHOW THEM WHO'S BOSS!
Ultimately if we want to foster a sense of ownership in learning in our students, we do have to show them who's boss—and the boss has to be the student. Not that it means forsaking boundaries—not at all; rather, taking responsibility—yes, control—of learning.
My (admittedly narrow) experiences in the classroom have taught me that when kids feel that they own their learning, they step up and take that control in productive and positive ways. They have missteps. They make mistakes. They try and push boundaries. But then they reign themselves in, find a passion, and go for it. And when they do, it's a beautiful sight to see. They learn, and then they teach. And that reinforces their sense of victory and accomplishment, an intrinsic reward that a teacher could simply never bestow no matter how many times 'good job!' is uttered.
Today in my Ancient Jewish History class we talked about the Tenth of Tevet, the fast day we observed. We discussed Babylonia, Nebuchadnezzar, the exile, and the concept of siege. But we began to explore another concept too: that the Babylonian Exile was the beginning of reshaping what it meant to be a Jew and to keep the Torah in the absence of the Beit HaMikdash. And it strikes me that taking responsibility and finding passion in Torah, in keeping mitzvot, in finding our way within Judaism is something we want for our kids. We understand that we can educate them, show them the beauty of a Torah life, and teach them what it means to live as a Torah Jew—but ultimately each person has to find the passion and make the choice for his or herself. If we inculcate our kids with that value in their general education, kal v'chomer (all the more so) with Torah.
Does anyone remember Lucy from Peanuts? She sat in her little booth with a sign reading "The Doctor is In" and dispensed wisdom for the handsome fee of $.05. I'm not sure that my musings on education and homeschooling qualify for a nickel, but I welcome the opportunity to put ideas out there for discussion and comments.
A little about me, if you'll forgive the self-reflection: I am a mom to three great kids who are 11, 8, and 6 years old. I've been involved in education in one way or another for over 18 years. I received my Ph.D. in Political Science from Washington University in St. Louis in 1997, with a focus on Comparative Politics/Politics of the Middle East. Since then, I've worked in various capacities -- as a lecturer at Washington University and Suffolk University; as an instructor at Hebrew College (Prozdor), Stella K. Abraham High School for Girls (HALB), Bnot Shulamith of Long Island, Hebrew High School of New England, and Island Village Montessori School. My first 'policy' position was as the Director of Curriculum Development and Senior Research Analyst at CAMERA (Committee for Accuracy in Middle East Reporting in America); following a move to Silver Spring, MD in the late nineties, I was a fellow at the Washington Institute for Near East Policy.
All this establishes my academic and career credentials, but says little about my philosophy of education or thoughts about homeschooling. The truth is, the more I am involved in working in the field of education, the more convinced I am that for most kids, most of the time, school (as most experience it today) is the opposite of education. Our society has morphed into one that relies on industrialized, standardized everything -- from food, to kids. This focus on 'outcome oriented' achievement has twisted the value of nurturing critical, analytical, and creative thinking on its head.
I hope to explore some of my thoughts about education and where it is leading our children and society in this blog. Comments are always welcome!
I am very impressed with your credentials and experience. I look forward to reading your blog and learning from you.
