Tag Archives: Education

An Equivocation of Biblical Proportions

I guess we really can’t accuse Bill Nye of mincing words…

A recent Bill Nye video has gone viral, in which he sharply criticizes those who “deny evolution” and charges them with holding society back.

Nye obviously possesses a great amount of expertise in his field. When he talks about mechanical engineering, for example, or how the body works, its probably best to simply take it all in.

However, as it often happens in science, the content of the “Big Think” video referred to above crosses into the domains of philosophy and theology. While the domains don’t totally overlap and not everything in science is of philosophical/theological import—it is hard to see how experiments involving the atomic mass of certain elements carries theological implications, for instance—there is considerable overlap and interaction across disciplines.

The “Big Think” video most certainly does have such import; he makes very broad, sweeping claims about evolution and those that deny (or doubt), and evolution deals with the question of origins. When these disciplines intersect, since they are all legitimate sources of knowledge (I have no reason to think Scientism to be even remotely accurate to the real world), it is appropriate for philosophers and theologians to have their say. Gould’s NOMA notwithstanding, both can speak to the scientist, just as the scientist can speak to both of them.

While I don’t want to just assume Nye is lacking in philosophical or theological training—that would be bad—I often find that scientists are lacking in those areas and hence are unaware of how their views raise problems outside of the limited confines of their expertise.  Whether it be on what qualifies as science in the first place, whether postulating a multiverse makes sense, or questions on the nature of time, philosophy helps immensely.  Neglect it at your own peril.

For example, in his most recent book, Stephen Hawking steps outside his ken and hence opens himself to trenchant philosophical critique. In his explication of a form of anti-realism he shows no awareness of any of the many critiques that have been brought against such a view. Furthermore, he embraces a hard determinism and hence undercuts the rationality of anything written on the page. Quite a few have pointed this out.

Hawking is second to none when it comes to knowledge in his field, but when one’s views within a limited area of expertise raises internal and external conceptual problems, it is time to proceed more cautiously or at least give evidence that you’ve thoughtfully interacted with the other side.

In Nye’s case, underlying his points are two very big philosophical questions: 1) what is science? and 2) what is evolution? Question 1), known as the “demarcation problem,” isn’t a scientific issue per se, as no experiment or observation will tell you the answer to that question (using an experiment or observation actually presumes an answer to the question). It is a second order philosophical question about the nature of a first order discipline.  Even when a scientist herself ventures an answer to the question, she is doing philosophy.

You might think its simple, but it is actually a pretty tough question to answer with any sort of finality, as any set of necessary and sufficient conditions for what counts as science either a) excludes examples that clearly do qualify as science, b) are imprecise qualifications, or c) includes examples that clearly are not scientific.  Most definitions I’ve seen offered, to paraphrase Steven Meyer, die the death of a thousand counter-examples.  Even concepts like falsifiability or observation have problems with them.

That is not to say that anything goes in science and that there are no practices and procedures that are associated with the discipline, nor does it mean that we can’t tell clear-cut instances of science (acid titration experiments) or non-science (palm reading) when we see them without a definition of science. It simply means that dogmatic and certain, yet intellectually satisfying statements about what does and does not qualify as scientific are hard to come by, and these notions ought not be used to arbitrarily disqualify certain controversial cases.

As to question 2), my biggest issue is that he is incredibly imprecise. To repeat, that is an area in which philosophy can be of incredible use to science; it can analytically clarify key concepts and terms. I want to ask Nye: what do you mean by “evolution”? It can be a very slippery term. It can have several different meanings, and the veracity of pretty much everything he says in the video depends upon which definition of evolution he is employing.

There are at least six different definitions, some of them uncontroversial, some not:

1. Change over time; history of nature; any sequence of events in nature

2. Changes in the frequencies of alleles in the gene pool of a population

3. Limited common descent: the idea that particular groups of organisms have descended from a common ancestor.

4. The mechanism responsible for the change required to produce limited descent with modification is chiefly natural selection acting on random variations or mutations

5. Universal common descent: all organisms have descended from a single common ancestor (or a select few ancestors).

6. The Blind watchmaker thesis: the idea that all organisms have descended from common ancestors through unguided, unintelligent, purposeless, material processes such as natural selection acting on random variations or mutations; the idea that the Darwinian mechanism of natural selection acting on random variation, and other similarly naturalistic mechanisms, completely suffice to explain the origin of novel biological forms and the appearance of design in complex organisms.

You’ll find all of these definitions in play when it comes to evolution at one time or another. But Nye never nails down which one he’s talking about, and this allows him to equivocate back and forth. When anyone does this with evolution, it allows them (illegitimately) to use examples from evolution 1-4 (such as the peppered moth experiment, which is featured in many science textbooks) to substantiate evolution 5 and 6. This is exactly what Nye does in the video. The scientific veracity of each definition above is not equal. Some definitely are factual. Seems to me that 1-4 are pretty solid, and even the most ardent fundamentalist Christian shouldn’t have a problem with them on scientific or theological grounds. However, not only are 5 and 6 arguably theologically and philosophically debatable, but they are debatable scientifically as well. Those are not settled by any means.

Scientists have brought well-thought-out doubts about those two kinds of evolution, and their critiques deserve to be heard, not dismissed as religion or straw manned as literal six-day creationist views. Scientists like Nye also should consider the critiques of philosophers as well, as many have pointed out logical and conceptual problems with the materialist program. Since logic maps onto reality, if these guys have a point, their critiques represent serious challenges to the truth of the view and should not be waved away as subjective opinionizing.

How this equivocation can muddy the waters can be seen in the reaction of many in the media. I’ve read a few reports of the Nye video , and in every instance I’ve seen, the reporter labels Nye’s video as critiquing literal six-day creationism (one from the Huffington Post claimed in the headline that he “debunked” creationism in the video…good grief!). Nye never once, however, mentions that view. He simply mentions those who “deny evolution,” which would no doubt include six-day creationists, but includes many outside of that camp as well, including non-theistic critiques. When it comes to evolution, many just uncritically assume that literal six-day creationism is the only game in town when it comes to views that deny evolution and that therefore any doubt of evolution has to be religiously based.

If someone finds out you doubt evolution, the most common reaction is to first scoff, then ask, incredulously, “so, you believe the universe was created in six days only 6,000 years ago?” Like: “how could you live with yourself?”  Typically they can’t fathom any other view out there.

So really, though I have my suspicions—most of the time, when scientists like Nye make the sort of dogmatic denunciations the he made in the video, they have the latter two definitions of evolution in mind—I don’t know what kind of evolution he’s talking about. If he is talking about #5 and 6 above, then the most egregious error is when he says that those who deny evolution somehow “hold everybody back” and if they spread that to their children, they will not grow up to be scientifically literate and knowledgeable citizens. This implies some sort of scientific deficiency on their part.

What the heck is up with that?

Seems to me that this is just demonstrably false. The world is littered with evolution doubters and deniers who are first rate scholars and experts in every field, scientific or otherwise, and who have doubts precisely because of their expertise. I am familiar with the work of some of them, and their appreciation and knowledge of science is not hampered by their doubts.

Perhaps, for some reason, you reject the views of the Michael Behes, Steven Meyers, Alvin Plantingas, and Thomas Nagels (which is fair), but can you seriously look them in the face and say their scholarship and contribution to humanity is somehow second rate and its “holding everyone back”? There are others—engineers, physicists, teachers of the year, educators, doctors, phds, etc—who might not be in the public eye, but they doubt the Neo-Darwinian synthesis, and they still possess some of the top minds in their field.  Some doubt because of theological reasons, some doubt because of philosophical reasons, some doubt because of scientific reasons, and many aren’t necessarily proponents of intelligent design or creationism.

If he is simply ranting or venting in the video, that is fine and understandable. We all from time to time go on rants, and we need not clearly explicate everything, nor does every hint of hyperbole need to be nixed. Sometimes a generalization is just a generalization and its not meant to be picked apart.

I wonder if Nye would characterize his statements that way, though, and I wonder if we gave him more time, would he qualify his statements considerably (like they need to be if he wants them to be taken as anything other than a venting) or would he continue to defend them in their dogmatic form?

If he wants this video to contribute to the discussion on evolution in a meaningful way and be anything more than a “rah-rah” cheer for his side or a cursory summary of what he believes, he should clarify and deal fairly with his ideological opponents.

Is Standardized Testing The Problem?

My colleagues in the teaching profession love love love to rail against standardized tests. We hold these tests in special contempt, focusing all our hatred for them. Like the typical cartoon villain, they are easy to hate.

I’m somewhat contrarian in my outlook on standardized tests, however. I sympathize with some of my colleagues’ concerns and agree with them and the unions that there’s much about the current standardized testing focus that’s broken and in need of fixing. Where I part company with them is that I do not think the focus is the boogeyman we make it out to be. Sure, we should focus on other things, but the bottom line problem with public ed in America is much deeper.

I had a conversation with a fellow teacher after Thanksgiving dinner about our frustrations with public education in America. Predictably, the conversation quickly bent towards standardized tests, and out came the vitriol. I’ve heard the arguments and assertions about the horror of the tests so many times that I almost can recite how conversations like these go before hand with near word-for-word precision. I know all the catch phrases. That doesn’t mean my colleagues’ arguments and assertions are false…it just means they’re predictable. But I digress.

My fellow teacher held that standardized tests are responsible for the ills of American public education. She lamented that things have changed from when she was in school. Kids can no longer critically think, and that is because we “teach to the test” and do not encourage and foster critical thinking skills. In other words, our focus is too narrow—on the score from a multiple choice test that rewards rote learning, and is culturally biased to boot. Furthermore, these tests reinforce the disenfranchisement of minority groups, such as kids with learning disabilities and immigrants, that are already on the margins of our society. A kid that is an immigrant, for instance, might not pass the test—and therebye would not graduate (at least in the case of the exit exam)—not because she is “dumb,” but merely because the test is culturally biased and she does not have the background needed to be able to successfully understand the passages featured in the test.

Her solution to the problem of disenfranchisement and the loss of critical thinking skills was to eliminate the tests entirely in favor of a more “grassroots” method of assessment. She preferred a system where teachers are trusted as professionals who have the freedom to assess their students as they see fit. The current method is “too narrow,” she said. “There are many learning styles. We need assessments that reflect this. Teachers know their students best and should have the freedom to tailor assessments to their own individual classrooms.”

Lastly, why should *one* test score reflect a teacher’s performance so much, when much of what determines a student’s score (such as family life, their nutrition, access to distractions outside the classroom, etc) is out of the teacher’s control? When you are given a classroom of 40 kids where 5 of them have 5 different learning disabilities, 15 of them have horrible home lives, 8 don’t eat breakfast before they get to school, 10 of them have 3 tv’s but zero books in the home, 4 of them are addicted to some kind of substance, you have about 15 distinct learning styles in the classroom, 9 of them are alcoholic, half have some other personal issue that distracts their learning, and the other half are too zonked out on digital media to be able to focus, raising a high stakes test score can be a herculean task.

What is there to say to all that? What follows, I admit, is a very unscientific analysis. I’m not going to cite studies of teacher interviews or analyze data. I merely want to give some comments based on informal observation and limited experience. Hey, I could be wrong, though I think I’m on to something.

I gave a mixed review to her thoughts. On the one hand, there does seem to be too much focus—at least in some instances—on raising the score of one “high stakes” test. I get all that. I also get that there are a multitude of learning modalities, and assessment needs to reflect that. Thirdly, though I don’t have any studies to back this up, experience and testimony from the past tells me that yes, there has been a loss of critical thinking skills in the last 30 years or so, though I’m not quite sure my conversation partners’ era represented the “glory days” she thought it did. And lest I forget, I too am wary of being judged by a score that is heavily influenced by outside factors largely out of my control. To paraphrase C.S Lewis, it’s almost like our society has castrated, but the government still expects the geldings to be fruitful.

Where I begged to differ, though, was on the notion that the “standardized testing craze” is at the center of what’s wrong with public education. Though the testing culture should be tweaked quite a bit, it is an all-too-convenient scapegoat that teachers typically use. There are other things going on more fundamental. Consider the following.

First, I’m not so sure that emphasis on standardized test scores is responsible for the dip in critical thinking. Afterall, standardized tests have been around for quite a while…even if correlation suggested causation, they didn’t pop up suddenly at the same time public ed went down the tubes. We’ve had the SAT/ACT, the GRE, GMAT, the AP test, the bar exam, etc etc etc for a looong time. There is even a series of standardized tests that teachers themselves must pass in order to be able to teach. Though the differing high school exit exams and the state standards tests differ from all those in the degree of rigor, they are all standardized and similar in format. What’s more, for as long as these tests have been around there have been tutoring classes whose sole focus is to prepare their students to get high scores on these tests. In other words, these classes take “teaching to the test” to a different level. Kids spend YEARS taking such classes, and they often are the very definition of “a horse with blinders on” as they study for these tests. They graduate high school with flying colors, go on to success in college, and become bright stars in law, medicine, and politics. In other words, “teaching to these tests” doesn’t seem to dumb them down.

Secondly and similarly, the high stakes tests that my fellow colleagues love to criticize actually *do* test critical thinking…they just set the bar really, really low (the CA high school exit exam, for instance, which is given to students starting their sophomore year of high school, tests skills at about the 8th grade level). If you look at the passages students must read and the questions asked, you’ll see that what is required of students are such things as summarizing, paraphrasing, editing writing, revising writing, analyzing, and synthesizing. These *thinking skills,* afterall, are what the standards are all about, and the tests are tied to the standards. Those things *are* critical thinking skills! This is precisely *why* standardized tests are not the critical-thinking-eliminating-culprit the education preachers claim they are. Perhaps “teaching to the test” does make learning boring. No beef there. Perhaps boring teaching leads to less student engagement, which influences students’ ability to think critically (because they aren’t engaged in the classroom and hence exercising their minds, but instead are tuned out). But there are plenty of things that are and should be central to any classroom—like, oh, reading a book quietly, or writing in a journal—that most public ed students today consider boring, so lets be honest and not make “the test” out to be a villain it’s not.

Third, what about her concerns with disenfranchising certain minority groups? The test is culturally biased, isn’t it? Well, I don’t know. Though she wasn’t able to produce any examples when I asked, it’s not crazy to assume there’s some form of bias to some questions, so let me grant the point for now. The question is, “where do we go with that?” Is the answer to eliminate the test entirely, as she advocated? No. If anything, the solution is to vet the test thoroughly and eliminate as much bias as possible (though eliminating it entirely might be too difficult a task) by tweaking the problematic questions.

As it stands, though, I’m not sure eliminating *all* bias (defined as cultural background that a student must have to answer the question, cultural background that usually those outside the culture do not possess) would even be the best idea. If someone is to get a degree from an institution of *any* culture, there should be a bare minimum amount of cultural knowledge that someone must demonstrate in order for that degree to have any value. This is far from racist or elitist. It should go for those that immigrate to America, as well as those that immigrate from America to other countries. Were I to move to France and enroll in a college there, I’d expect nothing else. French citizens would and should feel insulted if I demanded a degree without taking the time to learn the history, literature, language and idioms of French culture.

That might touch upon immigrants, but what about groups within America, such as inner city youth, that might not be familiar with the language employed in these tests, and might not be familiar with the literature? One teacher blogger, for instance, said,

“Just out of curiosity, I looked up this past January’s Regents ‘Comprehension Examination.’ The topic of the two readings? Advice from a dietitian, and the ecological viability of using straw bales as an alternative building material.

Now, if you don’t think a white kid from the suburbs is about one hundred times more likely to have talked about things like this in his home than the child of a Dominican immigrant in the city, you’re fooling yourself. These tests are racially biased, whether they mean to be or not.”

Really, I don’t know *any* student, suburban or inner city, who would have talked about the ecological viability of using straw bales as an alternative building material in the home. Even if the scales are tipped in the first example, that doesn’t automatically mean racial bias is there. Seems like the blogger is assuming that if something is not a common topic of discussion in a subculture, that a question about that topic is racist. I find no reason to buy that assumption. Seems to me that a better conclusion would be: if nutrition is not a focus of inner-city homes, perhaps it should be.

Realize that the sword cuts both ways here. Sometimes tests feature questions about literature from the Harlem Renaissance, like poems from Langston Hughes. *If* it somehow turns out that suburban white homes aren’t nearly as familiar with the lit from Harlem Renaissance as inner city homes, does that ipso facto become an argument for eliminating the so called “racial bias”? No. If I encounter a test question featuring a passage about the cooking of a popular Puerto Rican meal, I have absolutely no familiarity with that, and neither do many of my white, middle-class students. Even worse for Asian students. I am not therefore going to cry racial bias.

When I did a little reading up on this argument, the examples typically given from the “racial bias” group were things that all schools—suburban and inner city–do and should be teaching their students. For instance, the same teacher above was concerned about a passage on the Appalachian Mountains. Hello? That’s basic U.S geography. If a school district didn’t cover that in grade school, they should be ashamed. My own students were frustrated after a recent benchmark test, because the test had passages from the letters of George Washington and the Stamp Act. “We’ve never covered anything like that” they complained. Even though we didn’t cover those two pieces specifically, *all* public schools cover literature from our country’s founding, just like *all* public schools cover geography and basic nutrition (health class), so there was exposure to that alien way of talking. Their quizzical looks do not mean the questions should have been eliminated…it simply means I should have done a better job when we hit the Rev. War period.

As far as the claim that inner city students are unfamiliar with the vocabulary and language, this simply becomes an argument for teaching students the formal register (academic English), not an argument for eliminating a supposedly “unfair test.” Though there are people out there that would argue this is racist, I have a hard time taking this seriously, for the formal register is a gateway to success in college and beyond. It is not “talking like you’re white.” Many in the black community find such a notion offensive.

Even if I were to recognize these concerns, that would only mean that the “bias” should be eliminated. This does not make a good argument for eliminating standardized testing entirely.

What about learning styles, though? Doesn’t “teaching to the test” force teachers to focus on one rather rare learning style, at the expense of others (verbal, conversational, kinesthetic modalities, for instance)?

Somewhat. However, recognize that in a system where resources are limited and the task is large (namely, educating *everyone* no matter the background), you can’t get everything. In a perfect world, methods of assessment could be tailored to individuals’ needs and personalities. Giving each student a portfolio of several kinds of assessments both formal and informal, along with the professional input a team of educators, would be great.

This method works great on a small scale. Schools and individual teachers do something like this all the time. I use small, individualized, informal and formal assessments that touch upon multiple learning modalities frequently in my classroom, and focusing on raising the standards test scores at the end of the year doesn’t eliminate the use of these kinds of assessments. Instituting a high stakes standardized test from the top down doesn’t mean we do nothing but practice bubble tests all day, though some teachers you talk to might throw out that canard. In fact, constantly assessing with the varied methods I just mentioned is a proven way to raise test scores.

The problem comes when you try to replace the standards test with the portfolio method on a large scale. It is horribly inefficient. Think of the manpower it would require to pull off. All those different tests would need to be accurately assessed from the outside. Self reporting, especially when the stakes are high, would create a huge temptation to fib feedback. The tests would need to be graded by neutral third parties. That would take a lot. The public ed system is already of gargantuan size. It is far from a lean and mean effective educating machine. It is large, over-sized¸ and moribund. Also, to go along with the manpower needed, a massive tax hike would be in order, larger than the most blue blooded Democrat could ever dream of or even put up with. Due to the growing size of entitlement programs, our government is already of Titanic size.

Another disadvantage to this is that it would increase, not decrease, teaching to the test. Whenever the stakes are high, the focus is located where the stakes are. Think about sports. Where are the stakes the highest? The post season. Where does any good coach worth his salt focus his team’s training? Towards the post season. That is where all teams hope to peak.

Take the stakes away, and you take away the focus. If the post season wasn’t where all the glory’s at, no one would give a whit. If the tests *really* didn’t matter, no one would teach to them.

Multiply the assessments but keep the stakes, and all you’ve done is make sure teachers must teach to and prepare those students for multiple tests. There would be more, not less, teaching to the tests. Maybe this wouldn’t be a bad thing. It would definitely step up expectations. It at least *wouldn’t* mean that having “high stakes” is ill informed. There needs to be some form of teacher and student accountability, afterall, and some way to accurately assess where students are at. What it does mean is that such a system wouldn’t eliminate “teaching to the test,” it wouldn’t eliminate students not graduating (since the expectations would be higher), it wouldn’t eliminate cultural bias (the way to take out cultural bias here would be the same way to take out cultural bias with the standardized tests), and, as I mentioned above, it would be incredibly difficult to administer and manage.

If you are the Sec. of Education, the problem you face is: “how can I get an accurate, objective vision of where the students under my charge are at, when I am far removed from the classroom?” Perhaps several informal and formal assessments made by individual teachers, tailored to their individual classrooms, injected with their own individual personalities, would yield good information *for those individual teachers,* but it would be a nightmare to interpret for anyone removed from those individual classrooms. My individual assessments might not even be *that* valuable for the teacher next door.

Think of this analogy: you are the head of a ten teacher PE department. You want to know if the kids under your charge are physically fit. So you tell the teachers in your department to go out, take a look at the kids, and report back what they know. So one teacher has them run the mile. Another has them to situps for one minute. A third has them do situps for three minutes. A fourth has them do a one rep max bench press. A fifth also has them do a one rep max bench press, but his weights and bars all vary and he uses inaccurate scales to determine their weights. Teachers seven and eight don’t do any objective tests, preferring to simply observe during free play time. Nine and ten just report back their hunches. If you were that department head, what would you do with what the teachers reported back to you?

This is roughly analagous to the job the Sec of Ed would have if we implemented my conversation partner’s idea, except even more so. The tests would be as individual and, in many cases, as subjective as the teachers themselves. If you think hedging standardized test data is currently easy, fibbing under this rubric would be exponentially easier.

Administering a test that yields a set of objective data is much more efficient. Efficiency isn’t the sunum bonum, but it needs to be considered when the system is so large. I know that stories of school and teacher cheating are becoming more and more common with these tests, so when I say “hard to fudge” I don’t claim that cheating is impossible or even rare…it’s just a lot more difficult to cheat there than in the “grassroots” system my conversation partner lobbied for.

Perhaps all this is simply an argument for decentralizing education by taking it out of the government’s hands. Localize it. Foster competition. That way, there’d be no standardized test forced from the top down. Individual schools could assess as they saw fit, and given that parents, due to the competition, could always go elsewhere for their child’s education, that would be high stakes accountability enough. There’s the advantage. Disadvantage: it probably would not be free for all.

As for students with disabilities, there should be, and often are, accommodations to assist these students in taking the test.

It’s not that I’m a “fan” of bubble tests…I’m not…it’s just that I’m skeptical of the common arguments I hear in my profession. Like I started out by saying, I tend to be contrarian.

So there’s her arguments and my response to them. There’s more going on under the surface, though. I think all the hub-bub about standardized tests is coming from somewhere else. Now, this is just my hunch. I repeat what I said above: I could be wrong, and since this is a rather unscientific post, I hold my views loosely. But here it is:

We teachers hate any sort of loss of autonomy, and we are leery of any sort of outside accountability, and the standardized tests ultimately represent both for us. Those tests are tests we didn’t make up, given to us by people we don’t know, and our performance on them is likewise assessed by, well, not us. I sensed this going on in the debate about merit pay…no matter what the proposed evaluation is, no matter what the benefits are of those who excel, you will find teachers’ unions and many teachers themselves come out hard against any and all forms of pay that is tied to performance. This is all about control and who ultimately has it.

We love to be the captains of our own individual ships. As soon as someone else comes in from the outside and tests us and our students—in any way—we bristle. We might not put up a huge fight always, and sometimes we keep our misgivings to ourselves, but expect a really hard pushback if there are stakes involved. That’s really where I think all this is coming from.

Like I said, there’s much not to like about, say, the STAR test or the CAHSEE (the CA high school exit exam), but are they really the educational black holes we say they are? We need a scapegoat, and they have become for us an easy way of ignoring more fundamental problems while arguing to maintain—or, to get back—our prized educational autonomy.

What is—or are—the problem(s), really? This post is already quite long, so let me just bring a mention. The problems are many, and what you see in classrooms (as far as lack of interest in education, lack of critical thinking, lack of a moral compass in students, etc) is *most of the time* merely a symptom. Public ed usually reinforces those problems, for sure, but they originate in other places. Breakdown of the family is one primary culprit. The problem is a moral one.

Think back to the picture I painted at the start of this post about the typical problems students bring into a classroom. How many of those feature some sort of brokenness or failure in the home? How many of them would be solved in large part by a stable, loving, and disciplined home life? The questions are rhetorical.

There’s not much time to expound upon this theme, but I will say educators and their union help have a love-hate relationship with this notion. On the one hand, when the topic is low test scores and why they exist, teachers et al make large capital of the breakdown of the family. “It’s not our fault,” we say, “look at what we’re up against. The task is impossible!” But on the other hand, admitting the breakdown of the family gives ground to conservatives (like myself) who argue that the family is more primary than the school. Many educators implicitly—if not explicitly—hold that public education is the savior of society, and many are uneasy with policy that gives parents more control over schools. Witness the political backlash to things like voucher systems, and allowing parents to opt their child out of certain controversial lessons. There is special disdain in public ed circles for parents who have religious objections to having their child go through these lessons. There’s even unease when it comes to parental notification about birth control—including abortion—access and distribution. Many have voted in government policy and voted in politicians that have helped continue the Family’s slouch towards Gomorrah. Admitting the largess of the problems in the institution of the family subtly casts doubt on the notion that public education can do it all. It can’t. Not even close. It’s not the right horse for the job.

In conclusion: “the tests” might be bad, but if we’re really fans of education, we are fighting on the wrong battlefront. The most important battle is elsewhere.

Why Home Schooling Just Might be for Us

If you ever want to worry your friends, acquaintances, and colleagues, just share with them that you want to home school your kids.

That has certainly been my experience.  The only time that we get anywhere near a sympathetic reaction is if we share that info with someone who already home schools their kids or who actually knows a home school kid/family well.  For the majority of others–most of whom don’t interact substantially with any home schooled kid or home schooling family–the reaction is one of concerned looks.

This brings up a question: is our desire justified?  Our reasons for wanting this are many, and therefore the objections are also many, so I can’t deal thoroughly with every concern.  Let me deal with a few of the most salient ones, however.

First, the default position for my wife and I is that it is the parents’ job to educate their kids.  Too often the knee-jerk, un-examined default position is in the other direction: for most, the default is public schooling, alternative methods are only considered in extreme cases.  Many presume that it’s obviously someone else’s–most often the state’s–job.  But we simply disagree.  Our daughter’s (and our future kids’) minds and souls are ours to mold–that is one responsibility that God has given us, so this means that us doing the educating is the default position, and public schooling, though still a viable option, is the alternative, not the other way around.

Let’s be careful, however, what this exactly means.  I don’t pretend to suggest that this means that home schooling is a moral obligation for every family: some families, due to circumstances beyond their control, simply cannot work it out time-wise or financially-wise.   This is why I think public schooling is still needed.  What’s more, each family has the freedom to outsource (and given what our default position is, sending your child to public school is outsourcing, though that doesn’t automatically mean it is bad) their child’s education to another party, if they intimately know and are comfortable enough with the competency of said party.  In fact, even most home school families choose to outsource to tutors or co-ops to a degree.

All our starting point means is that home schooling and other “alternative” methods of education are on the table for us as viable options as we seek to be faithful in our duty to educate our children, and furthermore, these are not just “alternative” choices: they are the preferred options unless other factors outweigh (some of which are mentoined above).

With that in mind, what are some of the primary objections we hear from concerned onlookers?  Perhaps surprisingly, it is not the quality of the academic education they might receive at home–and on that score, there is evidence to suggest home school kids do just fine .  If it were a common objection, it wouldn’t be very striking to us anyway–we are competent as educators, and even if social studies were to show that home schooled kids as a group academically perform below public school kids, their knowledge of, say, math, though important and useful in life (my wife is an online math tutor, afterall!), by no means trumps other,  more important concerns.

The main objection we hear goes something like this: “What about their social development?  Won’t your home schooled kids not know how to interact with their peers?”

This objection, far from mitigating against home schooling, actually underscores a big reason why we are considering it.  A question I have in response (one that Brett Kunkle alerted me to), is, “what are kids being socialized towards?”

I really have to ask my concerned friends, “What, exactly, are you conerned about socially?”  Are you concerned about their knowledge of pop culture, or being cool, or knowing how to dress in a way that is accepted by most teenagers?  Perhaps you are concerned with their ability to talk like a typical teenager?

I don’t care a whit about any of that, and that’s a good thing.

Though you will always find peers of good character in any school, far too often what youngsters are socialized to in public schools is not a pretty picture.  If you doubt that, just be a fly on the wall for a day or two in the halls and cafeteria.

This is one reason why anti-bullying measures are such a focus in recent years.  Kids are far too often simply mean and exclusionary when it comes to those who don’t fit in, and the peer pressure to conform to the thought and behavior patterns of the group is often overwhelming to someone raw and unformed.

You might ask, “can’t you steer them away from that as their parent and walk them through how to behave, while being in the midst of all that?”  Yes.  This is yet another reason why we’re considering home schooling: it gives the parent a measure of control that is not available to them otherwise.  This is why we have so many kids being raised in strong Christian homes, who faithfully go to church and youth group, but they end up being thoroughgoing relativists.  I’d rather them being socialized by me and my wife than by the peer group from 8-3.

Kids need friends their own age they can relate to, but when they spend the majority of their time with an overly large, ofen unregulated peer group , being socialized to act and think like the peer group (which usually isn’t good) is simply the nature of the beast when they are with the group more than they are with adults.  Adults are there at school, and oftentimes do influence the kids (that is why I continue to be a public school teacher despite my misgivings), but when it comes to which force socializes them more, its a simple factor of numbers and time.

Being with the peer group most of the time does very little in helping youngsters properly relate to adults, and this is a much more important social need.

“But won’t they be socially awkward?”

Even if they will end up being “socially awkward” (and it’s not anywhere near obvious they will), I don’t care: as I previously mentioned, what is defined as “socially with it” is mostly superficial, and being “with it” is not my principal focus anyway: character is.

Public schools have precious little resources to attend to character education.  Some try, by doing such things as sponsoring “character” weeks and so on, but their curriculum cuts against all that–the principal might announce over the PA that “today’s character word of the day is ‘compassion,’ blah blah blah,” but they continue on to the science class room where they learn that only science gives knowledge…morals are a matter of personal preference.  They then go to the English classroom where that lesson on what is real is reinforced: they learn that when it comes to morality and religion, “what is true for me might not be true for you,” and it again all boils down to subjective taste. Relativism is the air they breathe.  The school thus schitzophrenically combats its own feeble efforts in character education.

Why are schools shocked when they find things like rampant sexual harrassment, alohol abuse, bullying, and frequent steroid use on campus?  This is just what you get when you teach that there is no moral knowledge, and it is all a smorgasboard of equally valid choices.  To paraphrase C.S Lewis, our schools castrate and bid the geldings be fruitful.

What’s more, I have to ask if folks who give the “won’t they be socially awkward?” line have ever met a home-schooled kid.  Every single one I have interacted with does just fine socially.  They often know how to relate to adults much, much better than their publically educated peers, and can hold a more-than stimulating conversation with anyone.

Plus, they do get interaction with peers through co-ops, sports, and other extra curriculars.  They interact with peers and adults frequently while with their parents.  This, far from socially-stunting children, simply helps the parents socially mold the kids more directly while in the midst of society and culture.  This is far from a disengagement with the outside world; it is an engagement of a different type, while the parent is more directly involved in the education of the child.

The stereotype of a kid locked behind closed doors at home not able to interact with anyone is just that–a stereotype.

If you ever do meet a socially awkward kid, just look to the parents.  Most often what you’ll find is socially awkward parents.  This is not an indictment against home schooling, but an indictment against the individual parents.

A few times I have met a home schooled kid that, when put with a peer group after a while, has had trouble fitting in and relating, but for all the right reasons: the kid was genuine, courteous, thoughtful, with manners, while the peer group was anything but.  She was teased a tad and failed to pick up on some of the outcasting cues of the group, but this was ok.  The fact that the kid had trouble relating was actually an encouragement.  Fitting in is not the end all be all, and many times not fitting in is a virtue to be pursued, not a vice to be avoided.

“But I was publicly schooled, and I turned out just fine.  My kids are publicly schooled, and they are upstanding citizens with character.”

I have no doubt.  There are many like you.  But consider yourself blessed.  The peer group and the institution overall is not designed to turn out an individual like you.

Recently I heard an interesting one from a friend: “doesn’t this teach your kids that the world is to be avoided and separated from, rather than engaged with?  I’d rather walk my kids through that without taking them out of it, showing them how to love others as Christ did.”

It’s a good objection, but the short answer is no.  First, it again trades on a stereotype of home schooling as isolating your kids behind the closed doors of a home.  There can be and is plenty of engagement with a lost and hurting world. Brett, whom I mentioned above, home schools his children and takes his children out on missions trips to Cal Berkely and other universities, where they primarily interact with atheists, agnostics, and folks from all sorts of backgrounds.  There’s much interaction with non-Christians besides that.  It is just with the parent as primary educator

Secondly, does the obligation to actively engage with and love a non-Christian world obligate us to put our kids into any and every educational situation whatsoever, in the name of love, especially in their most formative years?

Consider the following analogy: say there is a nearby school that has as its featured explicit goal to make kids into life-long radical-Islamic terrorists.  The implausibility of the existence of such a school on American soil is beside the point.  From a Christian perspective, the kids in that school definitely need Jesus.  They definitely could use a witness there in that school, especially because they have so many other influences pushing them the other way.  Would I, as a follower of Christ who takes the Great Commission seriously, be obligated to put my kids in that school so that they could be that witness?

No, such a venture would be foolish.  My kids wouldn’t have a fighting chance: their minds, souls, and characters have not been fully formed yet.  Why would I put them in such an environment when they are at their most vulnerable?  Things would be quite different after they’ve been thoroughly discipled, mentored, etc.  They would presumably then have the skills to be able to be a good witness in such an environment (but even then, though…).  But *defnitely* in the younger years–which is the focus of this post–putting them in that school would most likely have the opposite witness–the chances are good that my efforts at home would be totally undermined.

Our public schools aren’t (quite) that far gone, so the illustration obviously breaks down, but it touches upon what I’m arguing, that the Christian duty to engage with the world does not justify putting the education of my unformed children into the hands of just anyone.  If I am concerned with the kind of person a given institution frequently produces, I am quite within my biblical mind to maintain the ability to educate my children myself.

Thirdly, the objection misses that this is less a matter of separating from the world than it is opting for greater educational control of one’s children, rather than outsourcing it to the state.  In my view, I am more able than the state is to form my children into productive Christ-centered ambassadors with sharp minds and holy characters who can winsomely and attractively love others.

“Isn’t your job as a teacher at a public school at odds with all this?  Why are you a public school teacher?”

The fact that I work in a certain environment does not mean I want my children educated in that environment, and just because I operate within a certain institution doesn’t mean I want my children educated by that institution.  I might work in law enforcement in juvenile detention, but I don’t want my kids to be there.  I might work as a social worker to help kids find their way, but that doesn’t mean I prefer my kids be in the state system.

My motivation to be in public education is the same as it would be if I worked in the juvenile detention center or in social work: there are kids in each environment who desperately need the influence of caring adults, and I’m trying to fill that need.  This does not conflict with my misgivings on public education in the least.  I can still work in an instutution that I think is broken and needs fixing.

Despite the effects of the large peer group and the effect of the overall institution, I aim to “stem the tide” of those negative influences.  There are many other like-minded colleagues of good faith in public schools, but not enough for me to be comfortable enough putting my kids in public schooling.

I admit that there might come a “tipping point,” where my efforts would no longer  be fruitful, the majority of my resources being used against my will by the institution to erase the good, true, and beautiful.  That is the case to a certain extent already (example: I must be a member of the union, and my dues are automatically removed from my paycheck.  I cannot opt out, to my knowledge, and my dues go to causes that are anathema to everything I am about), but not enough to override the good my presence can bring.  If I ever become convinced that the tipping point has been reached, I will most certainly pack up and move on to another occupation where my efforts won’t be wasted.

So this is where we’re at.  The jury is still out on whether we will actually pursue home schooling.  Maybe there will be something we encounter in the near future that will move us in the other direction, and even if we do end up homeschooling, we might still have our kids go to some outside school when they reach 9th grade. For now, though, we are trying to plan for and make room for the possibility of home schooling our kids in the most formative years.

The possibility of social retardation is a boogeyman of which we need not worry.

What is Truth?

…such was the subject of a recent Socratic Seminar (Socratic seminars are basically class discussions on a certain question/text that are more student-directed, rather than teacher-directed) in an English class of one of my colleagues.

The day before the discussion, she put up a status update on Facebook to the tune of “this should be interesting.  Lots to talk about,” as if the question was controversial or somehow hard to answer. 

I commented, somewhat sarcastically: “uuhhh..answer: correspondence with reality.  End of discussion.”

My comment, though I was trying to be funny and witty (I probably royally failed), was only somewhat sarcastic.  That is *the* answer.  A statement or belief is “true” when it matches, corresponds to, or aligns with an actual state of affairs in reality.  Aristotle, though by no means the inventor of this, was perhaps one of the first to articulate it when he said:

To say of what is that it is not, or of what is not that it is, is false, while to say of what is that it is, and of what is not that it is not, is true.

Boy, thank goodness we have philosophers (sarcasm implied there).

Now, that doesn’t mean that no other answer has been proposed.  Plenty have.  Some philosophers have argued that “truth” is when a statement or belief coheres and meshes well with your other beliefs (called the “coherence” view of truth), while others have insisted that we can’t know reality as it is in itself; we can only know our perceptions.  These fellas hold that concepts in our minds do not match with (or fail to match with) reality–they construct reality.  This is called the “constructivist” view of truth (see a trend here?).

Richard Rorty, Duke U. philosopher, is famous for quipping, “truth is what my peers let me get away with saying.”

Funny story: one time, whe Rorty gave his version of truth, Alvin Plantinga, of Notre Dame fame, shot back: “Richard, we are not going to let you get away with that,” shining a light on the slightly self-defeating nature of the statement.

Notice this, though: no matter what the alternative version is, they all have one thing in common–they all assume the correspondence view of truth.  They wouldn’t make sense without it.  In other words, folks who think truth is something other than correspondence to reality say something like this: “truth is NOT correspondence to reality.  Truth is ____.” To which one can always ask, “are you accurately describing truth?”  In other words, does the alternative view of truth correspond to what truth really is, or is it just a statement of the speaker’s belief?  If the latter, it can be written off as “just a belief.”  If the former–if the person making the statement is purporting to describe reality, purporting to describe what truth is really like, they’ve really shot themselves in the foot.

A few comments down in the Facebook thread, my colleague noted: “if you were in the discussion, they (the students) would have plenty to say.  Many would question you and disagree with you.”

To which I replied: “…and in so doing unwittingly confirmed my view.”

The only way in which their disagreement would matter and make any sense is if they would say that my claims do not accurately describe/match up with what truth really is, i.e, my claims do not correspond to reality.  Otherwise, who cares?  If, in their disagreement, they would just be expressing their personal taste or preference, why bother?  Why have an in depth and principled socratic discussion over what would only amount to ice cream tastes?  Only if we are talking about reality would I want to waste ANY energy at all in the dialogue.

So how did the discussion go?  I asked my colleague that question the next day, and she said that it actually turned out to be quite a discussion, and she summarized some of the things her students remarked.  Their comments clued me in that they were really answering and asking a bunch of different questions that departed from the original topic somewhat.   That doesn’t mean they weren’t good questions to ask/statements to make, but it sounds like they never really got around to addressing the topic directly…I’ll just lay it all out here and hopefully you’ll see what I mean:

* “One’s beliefs and perceptions are shaped largely by their environment and how he was raised.”

Yes, true.  Question, though: so what?  What follows from that?  Does that mean that said person doesn’t know the truth?  Does that mean that no one can know the truth?  The answer to both questions is “no.”  Just because one’s beliefs or views have been shaped by his surroundings (“if you were raised in Saudi Arabia, you’d be a Muslim, not a Christian.”) doesn’t mean the views he does hold are false, unjustified, unknowable, or that the person doesn’t hold those beliefs for rational, solid reasons.  To suggest otherwise would be a major non sequitur.

* “How can a person be sure that their religion or belief on truth is the correct one?”

Good question.  Short answer: take the claims of the religion, along with the reasons and evidence supporting those claims, and compare/contrast with the claims of other religions.  The first thing you’ll notice is that a) they can’t all be true, and b) they all aren’t on equal footing when it comes to rational justification.

Sometimes, people ask this question not as a genuine query or search, but as a way of skeptically dismissing someone who does strongly hold to a certain belief.  Some, when confronted with a strong believer, merely shrug, mumble “how can you know?” and walk away, without waiting for an answer.  This is the lazy man’s way of justifying his own intellectual laziness. 

Someone who asks that question but refuses to actually go further and seek an honest answer to the question is not a real player in the game.  Until these folks demonstrate that they take the enterprise seriously and are willing to think through how one could know, I tend to not take them seriously.

* “How can someone know his views are correct if he hasn’t explored the alternatives?”

Another good question.  If you haven’t done this, you need to do so.  You could be wrong, so comparing your worldview to the worldview of others will only benefit you.  You’ll either figure out you got it wrong, and you’ll need to change your view, or you’ll figure out that you are onto something, in which case you’ll gain confidence and peace.  Either way is a win for you.  People of all stripes, atheist, Jewish, Buddhist, Agnostic, Skeptic, not just the Christian, need to do this.

By the way, though some detailed examination of other beliefs is needed, for some worldviews and religions, this need not be complicated.  For example, if a religion claims that evil is an illusion or that the individual is an illusion (as do some strains of Hinduism, and some atheists), that pretty much disqualifies that one right there.  Pretty easy to say that in an academic classroom setting removed from the flotsam and jetsam of reality; quite another thing to state it with a straight face at the foot of the gas chambers of Auschwitz.  In other words: though you will need to do a great bit of digging on some questions and for some worldviews, some questions can be answered and some worldviews eliminated with common sense, so don’t fret and make the search more complicated than it needs to be.

*Religion (in large part) is handed down from parents and surrounding influences when children are young.

Yes, this is the case with many people.  As is commonly said: “if you were born in China, you’d be Buddhist,” or “if you were born in Iraq, you’d be Muslim.”  First, while that is generally true with a wide swath of people, that does not mean we should conclude environment or locale determines belief.   Christians are dispersed the world throughout, and we see all the time instances of people rejecting the worldview of their culture.   Difficult, yes.  Rare, comparitively.  But very possible.

Secondly, it is an error to conclude from the observation above that such a belief gained through the influence of one’s own culture is therefore unjustified.  You can’t fault a belief on it’s source; that is the genetic fallacy.  Beliefs are true or false wholly apart from the environmental influences that might have caused it.  Just because someone might have received his beliefs from his parents does not make those beliefs false, and does not mean the person can’t know his beliefs are true.  It is a semi-interesting observation of human nature, nothing more.

*When is it okay to lie? When is it not okay to lie?

Quick answer: if it is 1942 in Nazi Germany, and you have Jews in your basement, you get a pass.  Otherwise, I usually advise against it.

All these statements and questions are interesting, but they are a way’s down the road, and, strictly speaking, someone that brings them up in the context of the “what is truth?” topic is changing the subject.  The answer to the question “what is truth?” is fairly simple.

Quite a Dilemma

The other day in English class we were reading a Native American creation story.  In the story were twins who were always fighting.  By the end of the story, one, the “left-handed twin” ended up governing the night, and the other, the “right-handed twin” ended up governing the day.  In the Iroquois tradition, the twin governing the night stood for evil (they wouldn’t call it evil, I guess), warfare, torture, etc, and the other twin stood for light and goodness.

The thing is that the Iroquois were thankful for and honored both twins.  I took this to mean more than a simple observation that sometimes good things can come out of evil actions (for example, the story of Joseph in the Old Testament); I took this to be a kind of “yin-yang” thing where the distinction between good and evil is blurred considerably.

Even if I missed the point, what happened next is a doozy.

I asked the students how the Iroquois concept of good and evil compared and contrasted with their own.  They had trouble with that one, so I asked a more concrete question: say I paraded a 2 year old in front of the class and proceeded to torture it, joyfully and mercilessly, just because I enjoyed it.  Would I have done something wrong?  Even if the left-handed twin were to find it “good,” would that action be worth “honoring”?

Hand goes up. 

“Yes”?  I call on the student.

“Well, it depends on who you ask…”  He then proceeded to give a straight relativistic answer.

A cacophany of protests rises up from the rest of the class.  This is the same guy I mentioned in the previous post.

Like I said last time, sometimes you don’t need to directly answer someone.  Sometimes if you just let them talk, they saw off the branch they’re sitting on.

I’ve had conversations like this with him before.  He’s a subjectivist when it comes to morality.  I’ve tried to explain to him the quandry he’s in, a quandry that he’s had a hard time “getting,” but the exchange above demonstrates it nicely. 

When faced with acts of wonton cruelty and wickedness, a subjectivist/relativist has two choices: if he admits its really wrong, he surrenders his subjectivism and relativism (and, his naturalism/atheism, because the latter leads to the former).  If he maintains that it “depends on who you ask” or something like that, he maintains his subjectivism, but he surrenders his humanity.  If he were to really witness something like what I described above, I suspect that every bone in his body would scream out in proclamation of the truth that he knows deep down but that his subjectivism can’t make sense of: some things are just really, truly, objectively wrong.

Another Reason why I Love my Job

I have this kid in one of my English classes that is quite the lil “new atheist.”  Self-proclaimed, btw.  He told me the first day of class that his goal is to be a spokesman for the new atheism, and to help rid the world of religion.  He is ambitious, if nothing else.

I’m telling you, this guy is uber-aggressive.  Quite the evangelist, really.  Anytime he finds a Christian student, he starts attacking and just will not stop.  In class, he constantly raises his hand and steers the conversation onto religious topics.  He frequently stays after class to debate me.  Rather than viewing his presence as an obstacle, liability, or nuisance (ok, I admit…a time or two I have thought in my head, “can’t I just eat my chicken in peace, pal?”), I view him as a great opportunity to use my gifts for the greater good.   Almost every day I get to use my education to hopefully get him (and his classmates) to pause and think things through.

When he steers conversations in class, I usually stick to asking good questions, and most of the time, I give him enough rope such that he hangs himself.  One of the students once asked me, “Mr. B, why don’t you just shut him down?”  My answer was that I want anyone and everyone to feel free to express their views in my class, and really, I don’t have to shut him down for the rest of the class to get it.  When he’s talking, I look around the rest of the class and often see eyes rolling.  Most of the time, quite a few hands go up in protest of his statements.  Sometimes, you don’t have to positively prove someone wrong for an audience to see it…sometimes, all you gotta do is let him talk.  Get out of the way.  I’m confident my questions are also doing work.

There has been one instance after class, though, where I have been a bit more aggressive.  One day he was ranting and raving to another student about Stephen Hawking’s new book.  Hawking boasts in the book that God is no longer needed to explain the origin of the universe, so it’s not surprising that this student would love the book.  Listening to the conversation, I couldn’t help but smile, and, seeing me smile, he asked, “What do you think of the book?”

I replied that I haven’t read the book (its on my list, don’t worry), but I’ve read some reviews, and I know a bit about Hawking outside of them.  His determinism certainly gets in the way, and I attempted to explain this to my budding new atheist.  According to determinism, the physical world is governed by the laws of physics, chemistry, or some other natural science (depending on what kind of determinist you are talking to).  So far so good, but the determinist goes on to argue that the physical world is all there is.   Therefore, the cause-and-effect laws of physics/chemistry governs everything, including thoughts, beliefs, emotions, and the words Hawking writes on the page.  Hawking might say or think that he believes his beliefs because he has good reason to, but rationality has nothing to do with belief, according to determinism.  Beliefs are caused by prior physical states.  Someone, say, my new atheist student, might think he chooses his beliefs based upon reason, logic, and evidence (he goes on and on and on about those three things in class, anyway), but that is illusory, if determinism is true.

All that doesn’t mean that his or Hawking’s  beliefs are false, it just undermines confidence in their beliefs.  How can Hawking or my student know their beliefs to be true, on determinism?  They can’t.  It all has to do with the particles, and nothing to do with a self or individual choosing based upon rationality and logic.   On determinism, there really is no such thing as a self or individual anyway…that, too, is illusory.

Add into all this that determinists advocate for their views like determinism is false.  They wax eloquent about everything being caused by the laws of physics, but then then write books, giving reasons, attempting to persuade individuals to choose determinism because it is true.  Thus, out of one side of thier mouths, they say, “I’m a vegetarian,” but out of the other side squeaks, “gimme that Inn n Out burger!”  Tough spot for a determinist.

The student just couldn’t see all this…he thought it was possible for c-fibers firing in the brain to cause the beliefs and for someone to choose based upon rational reasons.  He just couldn’t see that if determinism is true, the c-fibers are doing all the work, and the whole bit about rationality is just illusory mumbo-jumbo.

Determinism wreaks havoc on morality as well.  If everything is determined by prior physical states, including our actions, how can we hold moral agents accountable?  There are no moral agents who choose their actions on determinism, yet both are needed for a robust morality…more on that in a future blog post.

In my opinion, naturalism (the view that the physical world is all there is) is the real culprit here.  No room for legitimate free will in naturalism.  If this kid kicks his naturalism to the curb, he wouldn’t have problems like these.

End of the Year Reflections

While my years at my previous school were definitely challenging, this year at a new school in a totally new environment turned out to be challenging too, in its own unique way, simply because I had so much going on: new marriage, new school, three classes I’d never taught before, a teacher induction program to complete, a Master’s Degree to work on, sponsor of a student club, and a first year as a head wrestling coach.

To tell you the truth, the assignment was frustrating in a certain respect; I’m a perfectionist, and I have an itch to do everything to a freakishly anal degree of quality. Given that I was dealing with so much, I felt the best I could do in this situation was just “mediocre” at everthing. I had to frequently fly by the seat of my pants in the classroom, constantly had to multitask (ie, deal with a parent issue on email while trying to teach a lesson, manage the behavior of the 30+ teenagers in my room at that time, fill out that paperwork for next week’s competition, tweak that afternoon’s practice, get that one thing to my A.D, and do grading, all at the same time…not to mention the paper I need to write for m own class, and that piece of paperwork–what was it again?–from my teacher induction program), and I was always seeming to forget and miss the needs and requests of parents, students, and admins alike (“Hey, uh, Mr. B…I showed my missing assingment to you three weeks ago and you said you’d put it in the online gradebook, but it’s still a zero.” “Hey, you said you’d call me two days ago to discuss my son’s injuries, but I didn’t see you call.” etc, etc).

In general, the students took full advantage of this, walking aaaalllll over me in the classroom, but I really couldn’t do much about it. I am one man, with only so much bandwith to go around. When you are routinely staying after work 4 hours most days to get stuff done, and the “to do” list is still growing, not shrinking, it is time to let it all go and just not worry about it.

Another unique thing that happened this year was a teacher strike. While I can’t really give you my thoughts on the politics of the situation, I can tell you that it was this real big hiccup right in the middle of the semester. Everything, even for the teachers that reported to work (I was one of them), stopped completely…no curriculum, no sports, no nuthin’. No teacher who came to work had his own students (there were only about 10-15% of the students who came anyway). After the strike was finished it took a little while for us to regain momentum in the classroom.

A strike is a heady thing, really. It was interesting seeing one from the inside, and getting an up-close look at its effect on parents, teachers, admins, and students was quite sobering.

Perhaps all this was God’s way of curing me of my perfectionism. He has a habit of doing that with me. You know what, though? I relished the challenge, and I think I came out allright. I look forward to it next year (minus the striking, of course). Part of the trick is making the most of the upcoming summer “downtime” by planning and preparing: planning lessons, making a schedule and calendar, getting paperwork done, tweaking the curriculum, etc. Hopefully, with enough hard work over the summer, I can have this machine running on at least 4 cylinders by September.

Which brings me to the next question you might have: what, exactly, is my predicament for next year? Due to budget cuts, I have been let go at my school. The way this works is that there’s a seniority list: teachers who have been there the longest have the most job security. The pecking order moves down until it gets to the newbies. New teachers like me are the first to get let go and the last ones to get rehired in the event of a budget shortage. I can get rehired back, but time will tell if there is enough space such that I get to do that.

For some teachers in some schools, this is a yearly thing for the first 4, 5, or even 6 years of their careers. I’ve seen Teachers of the Year get bumped. When it comes to getting your job back, sometimes you never know when or if…I could get a call tomorrow, I could get a call in August. That is the case this year: I haven’t heard yet, and I don’t know when I will. In the meantime, I’m just going to proceed and plan as if I will be back in the fall, so during the summer I’ll be doing all that work I mentioned above.

So there’s the situation, for good or for ill, and I ain’ gonna let you in on my personal feelings on the matter…:) Don’t even ask.

Besides all this drama, I’ve grown quite fond of this place. Even though my assignment was quite overwhelming, the subjects I had charge of this year were right up my alley, and I loved them. The staff is, generally, very friendly and supportive. Most have treated me with great respect and collegiality. The wrestling team has great potential, and I have the pleasure of coaching a few “mat rats” for the next few years. Furthermore, there are a good number of Christian students that I got to know that are willing to grow and learn in their faith. You seriously don’t know how much of a blessing that’s been! You don’t find that in very many schools. I even had the opportunity to do a little mini-religion/spirituality-discussion-thing with some of the faculty members! This is a great place for future ministry/work.

There are so many great memories I have of this year’s senior class and of the staff.  I really love coming to work.

I’m sad to say, though, that the two memories that stick out to me the most are negative ones. I don’t know why I tend to be like that. I don’t know why the negative tends to have more of an impact on me than the positive. Perhaps I’m not alone in that habit. And in the grand scheme of things, they are really, really insignificant…you’ll see what I mean in a moment.  In a certain way, they shouldn’t even be registering on my radar. For some odd reason, my mind keeps wondering back to them.

Both of them have to do with how some individuals treated me after the strike. Now, the overwhelming majority have been more than respectful…most understood my situation and why I could not join the line (had little if anything to do with where I stood as to the reasons the rest of the teachers had for striking and most everything to do with my temporary teacher status), so my friendship and professional relationships have continued largely as before.

But a few have totally turned a cold shoulder, two in particular. One, when I sit down at lunch, even gets up and moves away if I sit anywhere near her….every…single…time. At first, I tried to continue as before, by saying hi to them in the hallway and attempting to be cordial, despite their chilly attitude. But I wasn’t able to keep that up forever (after saying hi to one such colleague once, she flat out told me to stop talking to her, to put it nicely.); when you are completely, 100% ignored on things like that, you stop after a while. If I get any sort of eye contact from them (which is rare), it’s usually just a blank stare, as if to say, “what the hell are you looking at?”

The effect this has all had on me is interesting. First, I resolved to not let them intimidate me, and I’ve largely succeeded in that, I think. I’ve kept going mostly as before, but I do admit here lately I’ve adjusted the way I relate to them some, simply because its so darn awkward to smile or say hi to a stone wall. It’s been a loooong time since I’ve felt awkwardness like that so acutely, and its motivated me to take stock of the way I myself relate to others, no matter how much I disagree with them, to make sure I’m not putting others in that same awkward position. People have told me before that I’m a bit tightly wound, so I need to work on my warmth.

Second, it has *not* caused me to be sorry for “what I’ve done” and to repent of my woeful un-teacherly ways in crossing the line.  I’m confident I did the right thing and have absolutely nothing to apologize about.  If anything, it has pushed me in the other direction, making me more solid in my position and more wary of supporting a union-led activity in the future (I’m not a big union guy anyway, though I shared many of my colleagues concerns on this particular issue and might have struck had my circumstances been different.).

Third, it has given me good practice at keeping my focus despite others looking down on me.  This isn’t persecution by any stretch, but it has given me some practice for when I have to handle persecution.  Sometime along the way, if you are a faithful Christ-follower, Christ will call you to endure the wrath of the public.  In those moments, disciples must stand firm and not buckle under the furrowed brow of any colleagues, neighbors, or influential persons.  I tend to be a people pleaser.  I want people to like me, and I have a habit of second guessing myself when someone looks down on me.  Though this situation has little to do with my commitment to Christ, it has given me a chance to develop a firmer backbone, to keep my head high and eyes straight despite the opinions of others.

Fourthly and similarly, it really has bothered me.  I’ve tried to not let it do so, but I have to admit it has soured my attitude a lot, especially of late.  You might be wondering, “Rich, why?  This is such a little thing!  It’s not like they matter.”  You’re right, you’re right.  But one reason why it’s gotten to me is that I counted these folks as friends.  They never came to me once and asked me to give an account; they never sought to understand or listen to a thing.  Guess I was wrong.  And hey, I’m a fallen human being, one who gets offended easily, and one who seeks the approval of others to an illegitimate degree (some of that is ok, but I take it to new levels, that’s why I call it “illegit.”).  You put those two together and ya, this is going to get under my skin.  This has been a chance for me to let go of those thought patterns and embrace the mantra that truly, it’s not about me.  Again, let it go.

That phrase keeps popping up again and again…perhaps that could be this year’s theme?  “Just let it go.”