public education

What if high school had options?

I’m having lunch with Ken Danford and he’s telling me how he coaches teens (and their parents) to drop out of school. He explains that students come to him when they are bored or stuck in school, home-schooled, or struggling with personal issues, and looking for an alternative. Ken explains to them “there’s nothing you can do with a high school diploma that you can’t do without one.” 

I learn that North Star is a high school alternative, a community-center-like place where teens can take any number of classes and study whatever they desire. Ken reports that most of his students go on to colleges or jobs, and that all come back to tell him how life-affirming North Star was for them; that the freedom they experienced allowed them to grow and develop as excited learners. 

This conversation is making my head spin with delight. I’m sitting there remembering how bored I was in high school; so bored that I created internships for myself and got my guidance counselors to sign off on them so I could study what I chose and leave that suffocating, institutional building. What if there had been a North Star for me? 

Dessert arrives as we delve into a flurry of ‘what if…’ brainstorming. Ken shares an idealistic vision of his: what if you had two choices in high school? You could take the proscribed classes and graduate with a high school diploma, OR you could take any classes you want (out of what is offered) and take the GED. (In many cases you’d still take all the same courses, just in a different order. Most high schools don’t offer enough courses that you could attend for four years and never take a math class, for example.) 

We discuss how there would be no change in administration, infrastructure, or funding. High schools could continue doing what they always do, while including a second offering for more self-directed learners. 

My mind is officially blown. If I had had this experience I would have immersed myself in subjects; I would have taken only art and language courses one semester, only science and math another, literature, writing, and English in the spring. We all learn differently; I would have benefited from choosing my own high school schedule. No one ever told me that the GED exam is equivalent to a high school diploma. I didn’t have a Ken Danford in my life. 

We all know how public school developed in the US when the government decided that child labor was unlawful, yet adults worked full-time, and so what to do with the kids? We also all know how quickly education became standardized as the schools grew in size and needed efficient ways to keep records. The goal of public school was to keep kids safe and accounted for (while parents worked) and to train kids for factory work. 

In our current day and age, more and more jobs have become automated, and our schools are preparing students for jobs that don’t exist; the mundane, follow-the-rules cookie cutter jobs are a thing of the past. Now we need citizens who think critically and creatively and want to solve problems that benefit society. That is not a realistic outcome if we force children for 13 years (from ages 5-18) to sit and follow directions all day. 

What if teens had more options? What if you could do the typical, proscribed course schedule and graduate with a high school diploma, OR you could take whatever courses you wanted and take the GED in place of the diploma? And what if there were more non-high-school alternatives, like North Star, for teens who learn differently? 

 

A New Kind of Public School

After reading countless articles, studies, and whitepapers on why homework is counterproductive, creativity is being squashed by the soldier-like regimen of public school, and why people forget more than half of what they learned in school, I’m prepared to offer a new kind of public school. 

I recently attended the Brooklyn School Alternatives Conference and heard from a panel of micro-school directors about what learning is like in their (private) schools. Here is what some of them had to say: 

“Experience ourselves as capable of changing culture” – Tomis Parker, Agile Learning Center

“Structure with flexibility” – Noleca Radway, Brooklyn Free School

“City as classroom” – Noah Mayers, Brooklyn Apple Academy

"Student-led open school and opt-in adult-led classes" - Monique Scott, Freebrook Academy

“Our curriculum is to everyday challenge the insular nature of the classroom” – Sara Casey Taleff, ALC Cottonwood 

These micro-schools in Brooklyn are doing it right. The schools are structured around community and communication, not content. In many of these schools the teachers are called facilitators and are trained in helping students develop strong communication skills, independence, and self-regulation skills. Instead of corporations and non-educators deciding what students should learn and when they should learn, and master it, students choose topics of interest to dive into. 

Students are taught to set intentions, reflect on their actions, and hold themselves accountable, while also learning to be flexible. 

The current public school system could be transformed into this by using the same infrastructure and materials, changing the curriculum from an absolute to a supplemental tool, and making professional development for teachers center around communication skills, problem solving, and nurturing students instead of mastering benchmarks. A new kind of public education can be fostered, without much additional costs. 

The focus is on students discovering their own learning style and then running with it. 

The public school I envision has only 4 parts: 
-    Creative play- passion projects, maker-spaces
-    Outdoor exploration- neighborhoods, parks, fresh air, sun, rain, and snow!
-    Self-guided learning- solo and group, built in facilitator support, opt-in classes
-    Reflection- what and how you are learning, your actions and choices

There would be opportunities for internship, apprenticeship, field trips and travel, and guest speakers, experts, presentations, and workshops- decided by the students and always optional to attend. 

What kind of adult would you be if this was your school experience? 
  

What public education could be

Walking into the school building during arrival, students are happily rushing down the halls in groups of friends and classmates, eagerly awaiting another school day. Parent volunteers stand guard in the middle of the halls, each with a hand outstretched, palm facing outward, yelling “No running in the halls!”   For 10 years I taught in schools like this where while creativity and independent thinking were fostered (despite a scripted, overly structured curriculum), a culture of “no” always loomed.   —————————————  In the 2013-2014 school year I was graded on how well I could predict, in October, each student’s reading level, in May. I had just met these 4 and 5 year-olds and my perceived teacher-effectiveness depended on my educated guesses of children for whom I had not discovered their learning styles and abilities and who came to me with no “prior history”, as is the case in older grades where teachers are given evidence of student learning from their students’ previous teachers.   That was my last year of teaching.   I took a yearlong sabbatical in India in an environmentally-sustainable community that practices unschooling. I chose this community, as it was a place where children mattered; their interests were encouraged and they were trusted to be active members of the community. It was assumed that they implicitly wanted to learn.   Over the course of the year I spent much time with these international children of hippie-minded parents who had an inkling of their privilege in that they had previously attended school or had cousins in traditional schools in other countries. They took full advantage of having freedom to learn anything from anyone. They were used to asking adults to explain what they were doing, to offer feedback, or ask for feedback.   The village children also became a central part of my life in India. They came from poor families and attended government schools, which continue to use corporal punishment despite its illegality. These children were also witnessing Indians they personally knew, in their 20s, going away to school, leaving the village, and exploring jobs and opportunities away from home not having to feel guilty for abandoning their village. The middle class is growing and the children are preparing for their upcoming freedoms.   My experience of these young Indian children was their innocence and eagerness to soak in whatever they could. Like their international counterparts living in my community, these children recognized the value of meeting people from other countries, learning other languages, sharing their ideas, teaching each other their skills, working on projects that matter to their lives in collaboration for a better foreseeable world.   The more time I spent away from the American public school system, the more I could envision what I think school could be like. Gone are the necessities for creating factory workers. We are in a new position with different needs. Unfortunately the first need is a place for children to spend their day now that all of their parent/s are working and no one is at home to pass on skills and traditions and experiences. Children just need a safe place to be while their parent/s are at work. Some see it as glorified babysitting.   Second to logistics is the revelation that the world’s factories are automated, and the workers we are currently training will increasingly have creative and service jobs - jobs that depend on a human component. This means our children should be in a school that leads them to do this best, just as current schools and those of our past prepared them for factory work. The children need to practice what it means to be human- to think, make choices, reflect, speak, share, listen, and work together.   What does this look like, you ask? When we think about how adults perform these creative and service-type roles we hear more and more talk of uninterrupted hours of time to create, make, ponder, test, and, in essence, play. This could be school: a few hours of time each day when children can study what they choose and make what interests them. This is how we develop learners, creators, and inventors. This is how we allow them to be human.   We are also in a time and place where we can remember our ancestors working physically all day - in the fields, at home, and as artisans. Before massive industrialization we were outside for most of the day and had closer relationships to nature. This could be school: a few hours of time each day when children can explore nature including parks, neighborhoods, and playgrounds, in all kinds of weather. This too, is how we allow them to be human.   Even the so-called best public schools are instilling anxiety and fear in their students - to perform, complete work by deadlines, reach certain benchmarks within short time periods, and compare themselves to their peers. Why are we doing this? What kind of children do we want to develop into the adults of tomorrow? What kind of world do we envision 10 years from now? 20 years from now?   Now back in the US I am consulting with educational organizations who I believe are pushing these boundaries and asking the right questions. In order to stay connected to the public education sector I am substitute teaching in one of these “best” public schools. My experience there, after being out of this type of environment for so long is startling.   The classrooms and hallways are seriously over-stimulating. There is too much on the walls. Too much that did not develop from the children but rather was asked of them. The children’s work all looks the same. What purpose does this achieve?   The schedule and structure of the day includes changing activities every 15-20 minutes ensuring that there is no deep engagement.   The children are “taught” the same things, expecting the same output. There is no acceptable diversion from tasks, no bursts of creativity.   There were a few times when the class seemed at peace- playing outside and playing in the classroom – self-chosen activities. The children were absorbed, focused, quiet, talking to each other with purpose, listening with interest, and figuring things out. They were learning. They were being human.   At the end of the school day, knowing I had accomplished the plans the teacher had left for me, I took 15 minutes to tell the class about my experience in India, answer their questions, and show them a short photo-presentation of where I lived, the insects and animals I encountered, and what daily life was like. I showed short videos from the early activities of a fishing village, and a local musical performance. They were enthralled. Their interest was sparked. For a moment, they were the kind of kids I hope will be the adults of tomorrow.

Walking into the school building during arrival, students are happily rushing down the halls in groups of friends and classmates, eagerly awaiting another school day. Parent volunteers stand guard in the middle of the halls, each with a hand outstretched, palm facing outward, yelling “No running in the halls!”

For 10 years I taught in schools like this where while creativity and independent thinking were fostered (despite a scripted, overly structured curriculum), a culture of “no” always loomed.

—————————————

In the 2013-2014 school year I was graded on how well I could predict, in October, each student’s reading level, in May. I had just met these 4 and 5 year-olds and my perceived teacher-effectiveness depended on my educated guesses of children for whom I had not discovered their learning styles and abilities and who came to me with no “prior history”, as is the case in older grades where teachers are given evidence of student learning from their students’ previous teachers.

That was my last year of teaching.

I took a yearlong sabbatical in India in an environmentally-sustainable community that practices unschooling. I chose this community, as it was a place where children mattered; their interests were encouraged and they were trusted to be active members of the community. It was assumed that they implicitly wanted to learn.

Over the course of the year I spent much time with these international children of hippie-minded parents who had an inkling of their privilege in that they had previously attended school or had cousins in traditional schools in other countries. They took full advantage of having freedom to learn anything from anyone. They were used to asking adults to explain what they were doing, to offer feedback, or ask for feedback.

The village children also became a central part of my life in India. They came from poor families and attended government schools, which continue to use corporal punishment despite its illegality. These children were also witnessing Indians they personally knew, in their 20s, going away to school, leaving the village, and exploring jobs and opportunities away from home not having to feel guilty for abandoning their village. The middle class is growing and the children are preparing for their upcoming freedoms.

My experience of these young Indian children was their innocence and eagerness to soak in whatever they could. Like their international counterparts living in my community, these children recognized the value of meeting people from other countries, learning other languages, sharing their ideas, teaching each other their skills, working on projects that matter to their lives in collaboration for a better foreseeable world.

The more time I spent away from the American public school system, the more I could envision what I think school could be like. Gone are the necessities for creating factory workers. We are in a new position with different needs. Unfortunately the first need is a place for children to spend their day now that all of their parent/s are working and no one is at home to pass on skills and traditions and experiences. Children just need a safe place to be while their parent/s are at work. Some see it as glorified babysitting.

Second to logistics is the revelation that the world’s factories are automated, and the workers we are currently training will increasingly have creative and service jobs - jobs that depend on a human component. This means our children should be in a school that leads them to do this best, just as current schools and those of our past prepared them for factory work. The children need to practice what it means to be human- to think, make choices, reflect, speak, share, listen, and work together.

What does this look like, you ask? When we think about how adults perform these creative and service-type roles we hear more and more talk of uninterrupted hours of time to create, make, ponder, test, and, in essence, play. This could be school: a few hours of time each day when children can study what they choose and make what interests them. This is how we develop learners, creators, and inventors. This is how we allow them to be human.

We are also in a time and place where we can remember our ancestors working physically all day - in the fields, at home, and as artisans. Before massive industrialization we were outside for most of the day and had closer relationships to nature. This could be school: a few hours of time each day when children can explore nature including parks, neighborhoods, and playgrounds, in all kinds of weather. This too, is how we allow them to be human.

Even the so-called best public schools are instilling anxiety and fear in their students - to perform, complete work by deadlines, reach certain benchmarks within short time periods, and compare themselves to their peers. Why are we doing this? What kind of children do we want to develop into the adults of tomorrow? What kind of world do we envision 10 years from now? 20 years from now?

Now back in the US I am consulting with educational organizations who I believe are pushing these boundaries and asking the right questions. In order to stay connected to the public education sector I am substitute teaching in one of these “best” public schools. My experience there, after being out of this type of environment for so long is startling.

The classrooms and hallways are seriously over-stimulating. There is too much on the walls. Too much that did not develop from the children but rather was asked of them. The children’s work all looks the same. What purpose does this achieve?

The schedule and structure of the day includes changing activities every 15-20 minutes ensuring that there is no deep engagement.

The children are “taught” the same things, expecting the same output. There is no acceptable diversion from tasks, no bursts of creativity.

There were a few times when the class seemed at peace- playing outside and playing in the classroom – self-chosen activities. The children were absorbed, focused, quiet, talking to each other with purpose, listening with interest, and figuring things out. They were learning. They were being human.

At the end of the school day, knowing I had accomplished the plans the teacher had left for me, I took 15 minutes to tell the class about my experience in India, answer their questions, and show them a short photo-presentation of where I lived, the insects and animals I encountered, and what daily life was like. I showed short videos from the early activities of a fishing village, and a local musical performance. They were enthralled. Their interest was sparked. For a moment, they were the kind of kids I hope will be the adults of tomorrow.

What if instead of tracking students there were only mixed-ability classrooms?

At a family celebration this past weekend a friend shared that her daughter had just been accepted into a Gifted and Talented kindergarten class at their local school and she wanted to know my thoughts about putting her child there vs. letting her child experience, what she perceived would be, a less anxiety-producing mixed-ability classroom environment. Here are my thoughts (and research):

What is tracking? 

Tracking is the practice, traditionally in high schools, of grouping students with similar ability and then teaching to that ability. This often looks like the "higher ability" students being given more complex work and asked to think more critically than the "lower ability" students who are treated with lower expectations.

What are the perceived benefits of tracking students? 

Some people say that students in all tracked groups (high, middle, and low-ability class groupings) will learn more and be pushed out of their comfort zone into a more challenging zone of learning if they are with like-peers.

Some people also say that it is easier for a teacher to teach one thing to a group of students rather then have to differentiate instruction for students with differing abilities.

Some parents say that their Gifted child was used as a teacher for lower-performing peers and didn't get the chance to shine with like-minded peers.

What are the proven-through-research detriments of tracking students? 

There are just so many so I will highlight what I think are the most important:

- Students learn from each other!

- Students develop communication and life skills by learning to explain, listen, and ask questions of their peers.

- Students develop relationships with more of their peers.

- Students begin to see themselves and each other as teachers!

- Teacher expectation changes student performance. This means that when students are grouped by ability teachers teach them differently and students who are perceived as "lower ability" will not be as stimulated or engaged by the teacher, or be treated as capable learners.

- Tracking only highlights tested academic skills. Many students have other skills that lend themselves to a school setting where they might have a deeper understanding of a concept that doesn't show in tests. For example, a student who understands music may be very good at math, and be not so great at taking math tests.

- Listening to students teach each other adds more strategies and ways of thinking to a teacher's toolbox. This makes them better teachers.

Something to note when you hear from parents and students who disagree (based on experience) is that they probably didn't have teachers who were excited about the differences among their students. GREAT TEACHERS will capitalize on all of the skills and abilities of their students and seamlessly create a feeling of community in the classroom. It is extremely unfortunate that there are teachers who are not willing to embrace all of their students and who complain that mixed-ability classes create more work for them. We have to always remember the goal: to teach students to want to learn, create, and make a better world, which includes all kinds of equity (and not complaining because something seems difficult).

What if instead of tracking students there were only mixed-ability classrooms?

For more info read: Why Ability Grouping Doesn't Work, What Tracking Is and How to Start Dismantling It, Tracking (in Wikipedia), Can Tracking Improve Learning? (study done in Kenya)

What if students designed their own schools?

“When Sam Levin was a junior at Monument Mountain Regional High School in Great Barrington, Mass., he realized that two things were in short supply at his school: engagement and mastery. He also noticed that he and his peers were learning plenty of information, but not much about how to gather or create their own data. And he noticed that students were unhappy. So he took it upon himself to design a school where students would feel fully engaged, have an opportunity to develop expertise in something, and learn how to learn.” (source)

The program Sam designed, The Independent Project, debuted in 2010 and is still going today. Students applied, proving that they could manage their time well. The majority of the semester is structured into half-days. For half of each day, per week, students choose a question to investigate and then share with the group at the end of the week. The other half of the day is filled with a semester long individual project that could be learning a musical instrument, writing a book, etc. The last 3 weeks of the semester the students work collaboratively to create a project for social impact. The only requirements of the various projects are “effort, learning and mastery.” There are no grades; it is pass/fail. 

This student-guided experiential education is the key! Parents of students at Sam’s school were concerned about not having letter grades for the project, but colleges were excited to read about students who did something different. Not only that, the project helped students develop skills: they were more proactive, self-motivated, good with managing time, focused, collaborative, communicative, curious, and engaged. 

For me, one of the unexpected positive outcomes of this project is that it has shown the teachers what the students are capable of, and has encouraged teachers (of regular school subjects) to give ALL of their students more choice- what to read, which topic to study, how to present. And through this process the teachers are also discussing their own roles in student education. Holy reflection, Batman! The teachers are trusting the students to make decisions about their own learning! 

“Students who have gone through the program ask more questions and have a greater awareness of how to answer them; construct their questions more carefully; became more thoughtful in the way they consider ideas and evaluate sources; and became better at managing their time.” Win. 

What if all students had a digital portfolio that recorded their learning experiences?

I am supremely interested in how we present ourselves to the world, how we categorize our experiences, how we value what we’ve learned, how we see ourselves over time.

I grew up being a great test-taker and therefore always being at the top of my class. I had friends, much smarter than me, who froze during tests or did poorly one time and were plagued forever by those numbers that dictated much of their future, not to mention self-worth.

As I developed into a teacher I noticed more and more the value in documenting my students learning experiences. I began making an annual class website that I updated weekly to show off the multitude of learning that was happening in each of my students: photos of their art, writing, and creations, photos of their interactions with each other and nature, videos of creations in action, readings of stories they wrote, poems and songs we collaborated on together as a class, and invitations to events where we could celebrate the students’ learning in person.

Parents thanked me for giving them a glimpse of the variety of learning activities happening throughout their child’s day. They congratulated me for celebrating more of what their children had to offer than purely academic-lensed accomplishments. The students shared with me their reflections upon viewing their experiences - hearing how their reading had changed over time, seeing how their drawing skills developed, celebrating that math problem they solved as a team and remembering the poster they made that explained how they solved the problem differently from everyone else.

I found these students to be more celebratory of each other’s strengths and accomplishments, and less focused on who was better at x or y. There is always something to celebrate about everyone. My class website validated all kinds of learners and learning.

This got me thinking. It’s great to share these learning experiences on a cozy little class website, but what if every student had their own digital portfolio that captured their learning experiences as a way to reflect - to see patterns and sparks, to document other kinds of learning, to celebrate learning both in and out of school?  

Imagine your family moves and your child begins attending a new school: think about the implications for your child’s transition if the teacher could see what kind of kid they are, the kinds of friends they seek out, what kinds of things they are interested in learning.

Imagine you’re a teacher and it’s August and you’ve just received your class list: think about the implications for you as a teacher to see your class as a set, find commonalities among experiences and interests, help you brainstorm activities and lessons that will be interesting and meaningful to this new set of students.

Imagine you are applying for a job or internship: think about looking over your portfolio, choosing a few experiences that highlight who you are and why you’d be a great fit, and then sharing them as your application.

Imagine you are applying for colleges: think about what you would share of yourself, to complement your transcript (that’s filled with one-time-measurements), to give the college a better understanding of who you are and what you bring of yourself.

Imagine you are a parent: think about all you know of what makes your child great and how it would feel to have a record of this that your child could use to validate his/her experiences instead of relying solely on test scores.

Imagine you are an after-school facilitator of music, arts, sports: think about the value of being able to add this to an on-going record of who these children are, another facet of their life that while you find valuable, rarely makes it to “permanent records.”

Imagine you are a student: think about all you’ve added to this record, this digital portfolio, over the last 10 years. Can you see how interests have developed into others? Can you see how you’ve grown as a learner? Can you see certain skills you keep coming back to? Can you spot a single experience that led you to develop a particular skill? Can you see passions that always find a way into your experiences? Does this reflection help you think about your life, your choices, and what’s next?


What if all students had a digital portfolio that recorded their learning experiences?

What if all learning experiences “counted?”

I am sitting in the lush forests on Kauai, Hawaii, after several days of hiking up to mountain ridges and walking along narrow pathways to glorious ocean vistas. On the hikes I am sharpening so many skills - balancing my weight, navigating though a variety of terrains (sometimes quite slippery), and making innumerable snap decisions regarding safety and exploration. I stop often to admire details of the flora and fauna - touching, smelling, and comparing. The moss is tremendous. I am constantly astounded by the variety and texture. The rocks, too, many which have bits of lava from different stages of volcanic eruption within them, are exceptional and though they look strong, easily crumble in my fingers.

I am learning about myself too - endurance, strength, preparedness with food and water, how to protect myself from the elements with minimal gear, and to remind myself to look up from the path and admire my surroundings. 

I knew from an early age that what I learned and sought outside of school was just as valuable, and sometimes more so, than what I was learning in school. In my senior year of high school I created a half-day internship for myself at an educational television show. It was there that I learned about public speaking, speaking professionally, how to develop relationships with co-workers, how to do specific and detailed research for on-air deadlines, how to produce a television show, how to splice tape and create pre-recorded segments, and the list goes on. 

In 1999 I began attending one of only a handful of co-op universities in the US, which offer programs that are half academic, half real-world work experience. When I began as a freshman at Northeastern University, I was most excited about the yearlong schedule: 6 months of classes split up into two, 3-month semesters, and then 6 months of working in the field of my major or one I might be interested in. Within these paid internships I was able to work in a variety of departments to understand each field. At a PR firm I did cold calls for our database, spent a few days with the bookkeeping team, sat in on meetings, shadowed an executive for a day, and learned the culture of the organization. At a pop-rock radio station I worked in several departments each for a week at a time: music, promotions, news, and the office. These experiences gave me the perspective of work-culture, what it means to be proactive, how to show you’ve learned something by applying it appropriately, and, maybe most importantly, how to sell myself. Tailoring a resume, writing a cover letter, and going on an interview were things I began to just know how to do, and they set me apart from other recent graduates. 

Emily Rapport, in her opinion piece for edSurge titled Why Course Credits Don’t Reflect What I Learn, explains as a current undergrad how the learning experiences she pursues outside of her classes are offering her more learning and skills that apply to her interests and passions than the learning and skills she is getting from her classes. More so she is pushing that these out-of-class learning experiences be credited, acknowledged, and appreciated by her university. These experiences are clearly what her future employers will value. 

She offers some solutions: 

1. “Introduce experiential learning frameworks into students’ first-year experiences.” Teach students to reflect on all of their learning experiences and value them as such. 

2. “Create courses that use students’ outside-the-classroom experiences as texts.” Classes that apply theory to required internships and community service projects. 

3. “Structure an undergraduate experience so that it moves from classroom to “real world,” with opportunities for student-driven capstones other than academic theses.” Allow students alternatives to a thesis to apply their skills before graduation and as their requirement for graduation. 

I am a huge fan of, not just talking but, taking action. It is one thing to privately value the variety of your life experiences, knowing you are using them and getting the most you can from them, and it takes those experiences to a whole new level to advocate for their legitimacy in the academic world. 

Maya Angelou said, “You are the sum total of everything you've ever seen, heard, eaten, smelled, been told, forgot - it's all there.”

So what if all learning experiences “counted?” 

What if instead of just talking about Social Emotional Learning, we restructured all of the ways children learn to include adults who are trained in developing these skills?

Donna Housman, EdD, clinical psychologist and founder, CEO, and president of Beginnings School, the ONLY PRE-SCHOOL IN THE COUNTRY that has developed a comprehensive curriculum around self-regulation, self-awareness, social awareness, relationship skills, and responsible decision-making, discusses the reasons children need to learn these skills before they turn 4 years old as well as how their learning and social development are compromised without these skills.

It seems obvious; when you feel good about yourself and your relationships and can listen, process, and communicate your ideas, then you are open to more challenging tasks and learning. In other words, when children are not preoccupied or worried about their most basic emotional needs, they can flourish.


This is not new information. There is just more and more research pouring out of school-laboratories, graduate programs, psychological case studies, and comparisons of educational models worldwide. So why aren’t we changing what pre-school looks like in light of this information? Why aren’t we offering classes, workshops, and training to new parents around developing these skills in the first three years of a child’s life? Why aren’t nanny agencies picking up on this and offering trained SEL professionals to spend time with your young children? Why aren’t graduate schools offering Masters in Early Childhood Education focusing on Social Emotional Learning? With all of this research why is there only ONE PRE-SCHOOL IN THE COUNTRY implementing this curriculum?

What if youth had toolboxes full of strategies to combat bullying and build respect among peers?

Chance to Choose is a project aimed at doing just this. Dave McGrail, parent of a middle-school girl, noticed that there are all kinds of bullying his daughter was engaging in, unaware of and often adamant that it was not bullying. So he wrote a book: a “choose your own adventure” book for middle-school girls where they would be confronted with situations involving bullying, cyber-bulling, gender, body image, and peer pressure and have to make choices and face the consequences.

The book inspired a teacher to read it in an after-school setting to her female students to address these topical issues. This, in turn, inspired Dave to create Chance to Choose, a formal after-school program that plays through these scenarios with small groups of girls and works out solutions, outcomes, consequences, and all along the way throws in variables that adjust situations, making one rethink her actions. It’s interactive, it’s role play, it’s social learning, it’s building emotional intelligence, and it’s filling a significantly under-attended to need. It’s great to be talking about why bullying is bad but it’s a whole different thing to do something about it.

On this day, when we celebrate Martin Luther King Jr., I celebrate Dave and Chance to Choose for working to help young girls stand up for themselves and to treat each other with respect. What if youth had toolboxes full of strategies to combat bullying and build respect among peers?

What if anti-bullying curriculum was the ticket to a kinder world?

I saw this video and it literally made me cry. Five 5th grade boys decide to befriend a much-bullied boy with special needs and it changes all of their lives. As a teacher, this is the goal! I want my students to see each other as individuals, with different strengths that make them special, and to look out for each other, protect each other, create community together. Through sharing personal stories, books, role-play, and language empowerment, children can all develop empathy. 

What if school was playing in a forest all day?

School's Out: Lessons from a Forest Kindergarten (trailer)

This film looks amazing. These kids play in nature, learn through exploring, and are learning to learn! 

What if life skills were taught in school?

Suggestions from Sara Boboltz, in 7 Things We Should Start Teaching In Schools ASAP:

1. Taxes
2. Budgeting and finance
3. Computer coding
4. Emergency medical training
5. No-bullshit sex ed
6. Cover letters and resumes
7. Sustainable living
Bonus: Splitting checks at a restaurant

What if "homework" was about living life and learning yourself?

Instead of boring worksheets and more sitting(!!!), what if homework looked something like this:

1. Go Outside
2. Get Bored
3. Spend Time Alone
4. Read
5. Make Something
6. Write
7. Clear the Table (Contribute to your home/family)
8. Rest 

What if instead of telling student's they are wrong, we help them get it right?

I remember having the wrong answer in class. It was devastating. And I didn't learn what the correct answer was because I was too upset. Brooke McCaffrey read "The Skillful Teacher" by Jonathan Saphier, Mary Ann Haley-Speca, and Robert Gower, in which the authors discuss the concept of 'sticking with a student.' With this method, instead of the typical response of moving on, the teacher keeps his or her attention and focus with the student who provided the incorrect answer and uses a variety of strategies to help that student reach the right answer. For instance, the teacher might validate what is right or good about an incorrect answer and then offer the student a cue."

So instead of teaching the world in black and white, right and wrong, let's show children how to figure things out. It's not about the answer, it's about the learning. 

What if half of the school day was outside play?

It's great to give students movement breaks, stay 5-minutes longer at recess, and even have standing desks, but Angela Hanscom, a pediatric occupational therapist, reminds us that children need to move. They need to develop body awareness, which inevitable improves learning. All of our systems are connected, remember? They all need to be nourished, and not just for a few extra minutes.

She writes:

In order to create actual changes to the sensory system that results in improved attention over time,  children NEED to experience what we call “rapid vestibular (balance) input” on a daily basis. In other words, they need to go upside down, spin in circles, and roll down hills. They need authentic play experiences that get them moving in all different directions in order to stimulate the little hair cells found in the vestibular complex (located in the inner ear). If children do this on a regular basis and for a significant amount of time, then (and only then) will they experience the necessary changes needed to effectively develop the balance system–leading to better attention and learning in the classroom.

So, what if half of the school day was outside play? 

What if drawing was recognized as the important skill that it is and was taught in schools?

As an artist and avid draw-er I couldn't have said this better myself. The following is from this article.

Drawing remains a central and pivotal activity to the work of many artists and designers – a touchstone and tool of creative exploration that informs visual discovery. It fundamentally enables the visualisation and development of perceptions and ideas. With a history as long and intensive as the history of our culture, the act of drawing remains a fundamental means to translate, document, record and analyse the worlds we inhabit. The role of drawing in education remains critical, and not just to the creative disciplines in art and design for which it is foundational.

As a primary visual language, essential for communication and expression, drawing is as important as the development of written and verbal skills. The need to understand the world through visual means would seem more acute than ever; images transcend the barriers of language, and enhance communications in an increasingly globalised world.

Alongside a need for drawing skills for those entering employment identified by a range of industries in the creative sectors – animation, architecture, design, fashion, film, theatre, performance and the communication industries – drawing is also widely used within a range of other professions as a means to develop, document, explore, explain, interrogate and plan. This includes the fields of science, technology, engineering, mathematics, medicine and sport.

What if, instead of disciplining children, we helped them find the root of the problem?

I've been a big fan of Dr. Ross Greene for years. He teaches parents and teachers to talk with children about their feelings and experiences to solve problems collaboratively, eventually leading to self-regulation. This is instead of punishment and consequence that we see in many schools and homes, which address behavior but don't get to the root of the problem, and often make children feel bad about not being in control of their behavior. Instead, as Dr. Greene says, let's teach children to recognize their emotions and control their behavior. Habit begets habit, you know? What if adults could also do this? Wouldn't that be something? I know too many adults who have difficulty controlling their emotions and consequently act poorly.

What if we all had emotional self-intelligence? 


This article explains the effectiveness of Dr. Greene's approach with regard to teacher training, prison recidivism rates, and behaviorally-struggling children. The following are the highlights:

University of Rochester psychologist Ed Deci, for example, found that teachers who aim to control students' behavior—rather than helping them control it themselves—undermine the very elements that are essential for motivation: autonomy, a sense of competence, and a capacity to relate to others. This, in turn, means they have a harder time learning self-control, an essential skill for long-term success. 

Stanford University's Carol Dweck, a developmental and social psychologist, has demonstrated that even rewards—gold stars and the like—can erode children's motivation and performance by shifting the focus to what the teacher thinks, rather than the intrinsic rewards of learning.

You'd talk with the kid to figure out the reasons for the outburst (was he worried he would forget what he wanted to say?), then brainstorm alternative strategies for the next time he felt that way. The goal is to get to the root of the problem, not to discipline a kid for the way his brain is wired.

If Greene's approach is correct, then the educators who continue to argue over the appropriate balance of incentives and consequences may be debating the wrong thing entirely. After all, what good does it do to punish a child who literally hasn't yet acquired the brain functions required to control his behavior?

The CPS (Collaborative and Proactive Solutions) method hinges on training school (or prison or psych clinic) staff to nurture strong relationships—especially with the most disruptive kids—and to give kids a central role in solving their own problems. For instance, a teacher might see a challenging child dawdling on a worksheet and assume he's being defiant, when in fact the kid is just hungry. A snack solves the problem.

The teachers and the student would come up with a plan to slowly get him more involved.

From Greene's perspective, that's the big win—not just to fix kids' behavior problems, but to set them up for success on their own. Too many educators, he believes, fixate on a child's problems outside of school walls—a turbulent home, a violent neighborhood—rather than focus on the difference the school can make. "Whatever he's going home to, you can do the kid a heck of a lot of good six hours a day, five days a week, nine months a year," Greene says. "We tie our hands behind our backs when we focus primarily on things about which we can do nothing."

Dr. Ross Greene's website: http://www.livesinthebalance.org/
Great books by Dr. Greene: The Explosive Child, Lost at School 

What if we could explain 'racism and what to do about it' to children in a way that won't scare them but will create informed leaders?

Aya de Leon is a mom who wants to teach her daughter about racism, about our history, about our present. She created a story, with pictures, that explains what happened to African Americans through slavery and the Civil War in a way that is developmentally appropriate to a child's mind. Her story states the facts in simple language and shows how to overcome, how to join together, how to speak up when people are mistreated, and how to be a leader.

https://ayadeleon.wordpress.com/2015/07/04/confederate-flag-2-how-to-talk-to-small-children-about-racism-celebrating-bree-newsome-for-the-fourth/

What if college students had to create public art projects that maximized social impact?

College students in Mumbai are addressing the needs of their city through school projects. They have created and implemented, with police support, murals, political commentary, repurposing of places that are frequently peed on (you read that right), and play spaces soliciting community feedback. They also created "The White Wall Project: A whitewashed wall, stage and canopy" to inspire gatherings, performances, and film screenings."

But my absolute favorite of these college students' projects were the ones that interacted directly with young children. They created playgrounds in the slums made from reused materials (tires, bamboo scaffolding). They hosted interactive art festivals fostering creative self-expression. And they performed plays inspired by the oral history of Mumbai on top of buildings next to public squares. Who said a rooftop can't be a stage?

Through these initiatives, read: university projects, these students have begun to transform the largest city in the world. Living in India I'm all too aware of the filth and forever-accumulating garbage in the streets preventing public gatherings. One college student began stenciling an image of Gandhi which ignited into a public-cleaning campaign and now, these inspiring college students, are also cleaning the streets of their beloved city. This is the next generation of India.

This is what higher education could be.