Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Uh Oh.

Here's the deal.

While I'm perfectly willing to give up most of my classes for the summer (American Lit, Anglo Saxon England, Writing Creative Nonfiction), there are one or two that I'm not. I've also just realized the reason behind it is not just the subject matter, but because of the teachers. While I have immense respect for my Anglo Saxon England teacher, this course was not my favorite. It pales in comparison to the Myth class I took with him. My American Lit class was torture. I'm sorry; I'm sure she's a nice person, but she should not be teaching this class. I've never actually enjoyed reading something, only to come to class and have that enjoyment taken away during lecture. That's ridiculous. Then there is my Writing Creative Nonfiction class. Again, nice person, but not the best in the classroom setting. The two classes I will miss most?

British and World Drama and Mass Media in Society. Why? Was it the subject matter? Well, sure. But what else? It was how enthusiastic I felt while learning in those classrooms. I think my back actually feels better because in these classes I (literally) sat forward (instead of slouching to rest my head on the back seat). I wanted to learn. I couldn't wait to hear what was going to be coming to us next. In my British and World Drama class, I have never had so much fun with group work, watching others present and presenting myself (though on occasion that aspect got a little sketchy). The highlight was watching one group turn their TV show into a miracle play-- using one of my friends as a whore. When she jumped across the table (literally, and in a short skirt too), I almost died laughing. She hates being in front of people speaking. She's shy. And there she was, in a short skirt, tube top, and kick ass boots, sliding across the table to her friend, flirting. What a way to learn.

In my Mass Media class (the one I can't stop talking about), I haven't laughed so hard in a very long time. In or outside the classroom. I haven't done so much research on my own before (hello, learning about Watergate was the highlight of my semester, call me crazy). I haven't written in the margins so much (notes like, Random Fact: Thomas Edison was not all that, look to Tesla, SEE EDISON ELECTRIFYING ELEPHANTS, or Babalonians went by base 60 number system, or 'Boredom' Coined by Charles Dickens or 'ZOUNDS=GOD'S WOUNDS); especially notes like: Look Up: aphoristic, antithetical, gauche, malfeasance, prurient, SLAPS TEST, MILLER TEST, Planegate, Joe Wilson, Grand Old Party, Iran Contras, Bolan Amendment, Oliver North, William Blake, Leo Straus, I.F. Stone, Protagoras, Swedenborgian, Smith Munt Act. . . You get my point. I don't think I've ever been so engaged. Or more motivated to study on my own. Or should I say, so engaged or more motivated on topics that have (almost)  nothing to do with my major. This is all history or mass comm. One of my friends asked me the other day if I should be re-thinking my majors. I disagreed on the grounds that this one class may keep me engaged, but I'm not sure I have any desire to take classes like Communication Law or Audio Production. Though I have signed up for Media Ethics next semester. Of course, I've also never met a teacher who can talk about foam and bubbles and the social connotations behind them for ten minutes and make me more awake than I was before coming to class. I think that's a talent few people have. I've never cared for straight lectures. In fact, I usually hate them. They are boring, they don't engage the students, and in today's world of the 'new york minute' attention span, they are useless. But love or hate this professor, you have to try pretty hard to ignore him. Even when he comes to class unprepared, he knows enough on enough topics to keep us busy until the last second of class (I managed to get him riled up on the topic of marketing to children once, and he scrapped his prepared lecture on violence to talk about how crappy Baby Einstein is and how much he hates Disney).

This brings me to the one thing (well, one thing of a very few) that managed to anger me in the New York Times last week. This shocked me. Even though it probably should have been a given. Not one of the people mentioned in this article, Michelle Rhee, Davis Guggenheim, Bill Gates, went to a public school. And they are the ones trying to reform it?

In November, Mr. Gates and Mr. Duncan (University of Chicago Laboratory School) called on public school leaders to increase class size as a way of cutting costs in these hard times. The two men suggested that schools could compensate by striving to have an excellent teacher in every classroom. The private school Mr. Gates attended has an average class size of 16, according to its Web site. The home page says the best thing about Lakeside School is it “promotes relationships between teachers and students through small class sizes.” Mr. Duncan’s private school has an average class size of 19. 

So, as I read this article (and the paragraph above in particular), I had the funny feeling that either I was being too harsh and not looking at both sides of everyone's view, or these people are trying to sabotage public schools. Call me crazy.

Chester E. Finn Jr. (Phillips Exeter) is the president of the Thomas B. Fordham Institute and a senior fellow of the Hoover Institution, two of the country’s leading conservative research groups. Mr. Finn is the scholarly counterpart of Ms. Rhee. Early on, he supported the privatization of public education, the use of vouchers and the development of a national core curriculum, which could possibly mean every public school would be teaching the same thing at the same time. His recommendation for reforming the public school system: “Blow it up and start over.”  

Now, I need to look into what exactly 'same thing at the same time' really means. Will this limit freedom of what teachers are able to use as curriculum in their classroom? Is it a standard to be met, allowing teachers (like in my high school) to use materials that apply, but ones of their choice? I know one teacher who would have a fit (and has) at the idea of another teacher on the same floor teaching the same material. But if this means that everyone is going to be teaching "To Kill A Mockingbird" at the same time, everywhere, year after year, I'm not for it. Why would people want to teach the same material for 50 years? Sure, I could probably teach something for that long, but it would have to be something like Harry Potter. I'm not sure how crazy I would be for Young Goodman Brown or the Lottery or The Yellow Wallpaper after teaching it year after year after year unless I was able to find creative ways to teach them. . . but there are only so many ways you can teach something.

When President Bush signed the No Child Left Behind legislation, he expressed his hope that it would combat the “soft bigotry of low expectations.” Indeed, the law could not have higher expectations: every child in the nation is required to be proficient in math and English by 2014. Schools that do not meet their proficiency goals, which are raised every year, are labeled as failing.
Last month, Mr. Duncan predicted that by the end of this year, 82 percent of schools will miss their goal. At this rate, it is highly likely that in a few years, every single public school in the United States will be labeled a failure. 

Great. And apparently, Michelle Obama is the only one standing against standardized testing. I've found something I agree with her on. Is it odd she's the only one in this article who attended public school?

In contrast, Michelle Obama, who attended public schools (Whitney Young High, Chicago), has frequently spoken out against the education law’s reliance on testing. “If my future were determined by my performance on a standardized test,” Mrs. Obama has repeatedly said, “I wouldn’t be here, I guarantee that.” 

Then there is this (I had to laugh): 

The New York City Department of Education, a pioneer in the science of value-added assessment, can now calculate a teacher’s worth to the third decimal point by using a few very long formulas. (No word yet on whether department researchers have developed a very long formula to assess chancellors and mayors.) 

Math can judge how effective a teacher is in the classroom of 30 plus students (some who need paraprofessional help but aren't getting it because in some schools they are being fired because of budget cuts)? I'd like to see those formulas.I've said it before and I'll say it again: how can we trust tests that judge the fates of our schools, students, and teachers when the ones who matter, the ones who ARE NEVER discussed or thought about, DON'T CARE? I'm not saying they don't care about school. Just the opposite. They don't care about these tests. The tests are seen as things that take us away from class. Whether seen as a positive or negative, just a glace around that cold, screamingly quiet room and you see people with their face down, a finger on the arrow key and counting; pausing to slap the enter button. The ones who do care enough to try are irritated at missing class and speed through, wanting to get back to a lab or test they are inevitably missing. We don't take them seriously.  I should add that my statements are based upon what I've noticed in my own high school. I'm not trying to speak for the rest of the nation. 

Going back to saying that students aren't discussed or thought about in terms of education reform. . . it's always an economic issue. Or a numbers issue. A factory line issue. Students are products that are shipped through a machine; if they aren't coming out quite right, then it's time to tweak this nut or turn that bolt. I don't remember the last article I read where these 'education reformers' actually mention the needs of students like they are humans, not something that needs oiling. 

But I digress. This has been a growing headache in my mind, and I'm hoping to hear thoughts back; hopefully ones that disagree and attempt to prove me wrong. Bring it on.

Thursday, April 7, 2011

What would you ask?

Well, I've turned in another paper for Writing Creative Nonfiction. While I haven't edited it a million and ten times, I'm going to trust in my BFF's once-over and deem it ready to post here:

Home Sweet Home (Updated)


Ignore the title. And the final line. The title is probably one of my worst (including calling a braided essay I wrote: Braided Essay), and definitely my cheesiest.The same could be said of my final line.

But that's not the main reason why I'm writing (typing) today.

There are only 28 days left of school.

On one hand, I'm ecstatic (on the other, it means I won't be in another classroom until the middle of August, instead I'll be working my tail off to pay to be in another classroom). May 17th- May 25th I will be in Oregon with my best friend and my dad's family who live there. Talk about exciting! But I am nervous as well. I'm looking forward to seeing my grandma (who I've only seen about three other times in my life), but there has been something clouding my thoughts. My grandma lived in Holland during WWII during her teenage years. She met my grandpa in Iraq while on holiday (though for the life of me I have no idea why someone would go to Iraq on holiday. Why not France or Italy?). But what's been tapping on my mind is this: would she be willing to talk about the war? How much would she remember? How much did it affect her? These are just a few questions that I want to ask (aside from what brought her to Iraq on holiday). My dad tells me she is willing to talk to me about it, though she never discussed it with him or his brother or sister growing up.
What questions do you ask a World War II survivor? Dad said she watches documentaries and reads books on the topic though it never fails to reduce her to tears. I don't want to upset her, but I don't want to miss a chance to listen to a first hand account on the war that tends to fascinate me the most.

Any ideas? What would you ask her if you had the chance? If I am able to record her, I may post it here when we return.