Cognitive Dissonance

Or why I’m still in the public education system despite this mess (or this one.)

My kids attend a very well-regarded northside magnet with good test scores and an emphasis on academic achievement. They also attend a very well-regarded northside magnet with amazing, caring, nurturing teachers, a strong and supportive and engaged parent community, and a curriculum that includes art, music, technology, and P.E. It is amazing that the school does as well as it does with its chronic underfunding and pressure to cure all of society’s ill’s on less per student per year than it costs for full-time daycare. I

It is not a perfect school, but it is a very good school.

I stay at the public school in the city because it is hard-wired in me from childhood to support public education. To a paraphrase a friend and fellow school parent, I live this commitment to public education.

I stay because I don’t think I can effectively advocate for change from the outside. I stay because I “can’t”* afford private school. I stay because my kids’ teachers are so freaking awesome—from the art teacher who made The Girl feel special one morning in 2nd grade when she was feeling low and didn’t want to go to school, to her current 5th grade teacher who knows when to give her a hug and when to talk through a problem with her, to #3’s 3rd grade teacher who inspired him to work harder by making a sports analogy, to The Boy’s 7th grade math teacher who is not only teaching him 9th grade algebra, but doing so with kindness and open mind. I stay because my fellow parents all want to do the best by/for our children. I stay because quitting when you don’t like something (rather than working to change it) isn’t the value I want my kids to have about education or work, but perseverance is a value I want them to have.

I am a questioner. I am a critical thinker. I spend a lot of time thinking about these issues, reading about them, and talking/typing about them. For me, this questioning and thinking and talking isn’t a wholesale condemnation of my (kids’) individual public school or of the whole system, although I can see why someone would reach that conclusion. I think there are problems everywhere—nothing is ever going to be perfect, but (to me) there is value in the discussion, even though to outsiders it may seem like constant complaining.

* can’t being a relative term, a shortened form of “I have chosen a different path, which makes it difficult for me to afford private school.”

American Paternalism

A huge thank you to Nihal Goyal and The Nation, for covering an issue that’s been looming large in my brain (again) this week: how leaders know what our children need educationally better than the students (and their parents) progressing through the educational system, and the deep paternalistic view that drives those decisions. Do as I say, not as I do.

Come on. If Google engineers send their children to Waldorf schools, and eschew technology as a teaching tool, why should the poor kids get the dregs? I wrote about this several years ago, and Goyal’s story only confirms my instinct. In an online discussion yesterday about finding a “good” elementary school, I wrote this:

What seems telling to me is that the thinkers and doers of our generation send their kids to schools that don’t grade, don’t measure in data, don’t standardize test, don’t give homework in early grades, and do offer art, music, plenty of recess, etc. These schools are rarely all academic or all warm and fuzzy. They know that a mix of styles and approaches is appropriate. However, what separates the schools where the children of the elite attend and the children of public aid attend is usually money/time/resources and lots of them.

One of my fellow parents wrote that s/he believed that the education world has changed because our world has changed to need complex, strategic thinkers.

I don’t get that point of view.

The people who created this project-based, “complex strategic thinker” world came, in fact, from an education system that allowed more time and space for free play and exploration of alternative subjects. And, odds are, those complex strategic thinkers were the kinds of kids who tanked their SATs, dropped out of college because they were square pegs jammed into a round hole. As is true of so many things, we need people who have a range of talents and abilities and ways of thinking.

Maybe it’s because I (don’t think of myself as) a particularly complex strategic thinker. I am a complex, detail-oriented thinker. I am an intuitive thinker. And the world goes round through the talents and work of both (and many) types of people. Not everyone’s gonna be a Richard Branson or Bill Gates or Sergey Brin. What about the people who focus on the details Branson needs to make everything work? Those skills are important too.

Dyslexia, Special Skills, Literacy and How the World Goes Round

I am a writer. I can’t help it. Communicating via the written word is hard-wired into my psyche. I’m also a “serious,” regular reader. Anne Fadiman, with her life of letters and essays on reading/books, is my real-life literary hero. I quote children’s books like most people quote song lyrics. Until recently, couldn’t fathom living in a world where reading and writing (a/k/a literacy) wasn’t a central component of school, work, life.

That recently came first in November, and again in February, when both The Girl and Number Three were found to be dyslexic, plunging me into a whole new world where reading to learn involves a completely different set of skills than my right-brained self was used to. Like many others who found themselves in this position, I immediately reached out to an online community, joining a few Facebook groups for parents of dyslexic children, and subscribing to /r/dyslexia.

As a reader, writer, and intuitive thinker, I find it difficult to absorb and integrate this new information into my world view. It’s classic cognitive dissonance. But, along with my identity as a writer and reader, I also identify strongly as a learner. Learning about my children’s dyslexia is a new subject to explore, and to learn about. Ben Foss and the Dyslexia Buddy Network are helping me out, although it’s taken me almost three months to even partially process what I’ve learned.

In a way, learning this about my children has made me stronger. And maybe a little bit more flexible. It certainly has recalibrated my level of annoyance or frustration when my 3rd grader asks me to spell paint.

But, interestingly enough, although I see a lot of talk about the need for students today to develop complex, strategic thinking and creative solutions, I don’t see education systems really willing to embrace an alternative path to develop those complex, strategic thinking and solving skills. The ones that kind of come naturally to students with dyslexia, but not so easily to right-brained thinkers like myself. In modern education, we continue to focus on acquisition of literacy skills (or learning to read) until about 4th grade, when we start focusing on reading to learn. That’s a problem when one’s brain can’t process the written word in that way.

Go to your room

I have no real tips for dealing with sibling rivalry. My usual method of dealing with squabbling (petty or otherwise) is to–wholesale–send children to their rooms. I don’t want to play judge, I don’t care whose fault it is, and I don’t want to know who started it.

I feel the same way about CPS, CTU, and the state of Illinois right now. No one is acting like a clear-headed grown-up. Everyone’s blaming someone else. In both situations, I am the parent without a clue how to solve the squabbling, who can only wait it out, and hope that all my prior lessons and modeling of fairness will percolate through the surface while the child stews in his/her room.

Opt-in to education. 

My message for today: Trust your children’s teachers. Opt out of PARCC. Opt into education. Will you join me? 

Two years ago, I opted my children out of taking the ISAT. In my letter, I expressed a fear that the school might force my children to take the test anyway. My (children’s) school’s response, “We respect your decision. [Our] teachers and administrators have not and will not force any student to take an assessment. We strive to work in a manner of respect, transparency, and trust with all families.”

What a difference two years, a couple of changes in both district and state-level administration, and some serious cash-flow problems on both levels makes. This year, school leadership’s response has been, “The district has not provided us with opt-out provisions. Students will be in the classroom and will be presented with the material.”

At best, I find it distressing to see such a 180-degree change in attitude and approach in such a short period of time. Although part of me seeks to understand why there is such a change, part of me believes that the reasons are immaterial (or mythical, as this Raise Your Hand Fact Sheet explains).

I’m not going to fill this paragraph with flowery language about how teachers have my babies for 7+ hours/day / 180 days/year. You know that already.

But I do trust my children’s teachers as individuals, to do what is in the best educational interests of my children and of all the students in their classes. One child’s teacher responded to my opt-out letter by thanking me for that trust.

S/he’s earned it. His/her authentic assessment of my child’s strengths and weaknesses has added depth and nuance to my understanding of my children as students, as well as added value to my relationships with each of my children.

I am concerned that the narrative has changed from “respect, trust, and transparency,” to threats, intimidation, and fear. This is not how I behave or how I respond to bullying, and this is most certainly not the model I’d choose for my children, or that I normally see modeled in their school. And that’s probably the most distressing part.

As a parent, as a problem-solver, as a thinker, as a humanist, I refuse to accept the party line on opting out of the PARCC.  There is nothing high-stakes standardized tests like the PARCC or the ISAT have told me about my children-as-students that I didn’t already know. As yet, I’m still waiting for an answer that explains what the PARCC does for me, for my student, for the district (other than provide another measurement of comparison, meet Tony Smith‘s PIP, or generate profits for Pearson). Two of my children have specific learning disabilities; taking an 11+-hour test for them is an excruciating process. For the third child, taking the PARCC is “merely” a pain-in-the-ass, yet another data point on the plotting of “what is the point of this?!?” that is typical of the middle-school years.

Of significant concern is the change in opt-out procedure itself. As I see it, any student who must, by procedure, opt out of the test his or himself (rather than allowing the parent to make the decision) necessarily and immediately obtains a precarious position with his teacher, his peers, and his parents. Opting out of a standardized test should not require a challenge to student self-esteem and peer-relations. Few students have the strength to go against a teacher’s directive–“you will take the test,” as I discovered earlier this year after my child was forced by a teacher to participate in an event from which I had opted him/her out. Teachers can (and should) retain authority with their students in a class; asking students to challenge that authority directly will be detrimental to classroom management.

Finally, perhaps the biggest concern in this new process is helping my children to opt in to their education across 10+ days of testing. I find it downright shameful that the district can justify a previously unscheduled furlough day on March 25, but finds it OK to send a letter to families declaring the illegality of the CTU’s planned day of action on April 1. No mention in all this of how my children are losing 60+ minutes of education each day for a standardized test.

 

What is community?

Today, I had the opportunity to watch 70 Acres in Chicago. It’s a film about the residents of Cabrini Green. But really, it’s a film about a Chicago community that has been shattered.

It offered a perspective that I had never before considered. I grew up in Chicago’s south suburbs and had little occasion to go to Cabrini Green. I avoided it on reputation. But the film depicted an alternate reality: a huge community of supportive, caring neighbors.

After the film, which was screened at the Gene Siskel Film Center in the Loop, the producer and two of the main interviewees depicted in the film took part in a brief panel discussion. Raymond ‘Shaq’ Macdonald, who appeared in the film, was one of them. He appeared in the film wearing Schurz High School spirit wear, bringing the connection among Chicago residents of all stripes, colors, and backgrounds, powerfully home for me. To quote the Muppets, “Peoples is peoples.”

My neighborhood high school is Schurz. My neighborhood is smaller, population-wise, than that of the Cabrini Green complex in its heydey. My history with my neighborhood isn’t as long; I’ve been a resident for 14 years, since I moved to the city of Chicago. I feel the same way about my community as Cabrini Green’s residents felt about it: this is my home, these are my people, I don’t want to leave it. I hope I don’t have to do so.