Stephen Downes writes:
. . . how we teach depends not only on the nature of the learner (though it
does that) and the nature of the content (though it does that as well)
but also on why the learner wants to learn and why the teacher wants to
teach.And there is no single characterization that will
describe those motivations, and hence, no single characterization of
how best to teach, how best to learn.
Yep. He’s right. But more and more, schools are looking for the one right way, for some good and plenty of not-so-good reasons. School culture, as a whole (private, public, charter, online, etc.) too often looks for the one way, the one thing we can do to/with/for a student to make/help/force them (to) learn.
I’m guilty of that sometimes, too, even as I understand the truth of Stephen’s remark. It’s hard to teach even twenty individuals at once with all of our competing motivations/concerns/frustrations/limitations. And I’m lucky — most classrooms are far larger than mine. A simplistic response to that is to say that a teacher struggling to meet everyone’s needs is possibly suffering from poor classroom management skills — and that might be a piece of the mix — but I submit that managing the needs of everyone in the room all at once is particularly difficult.
"Same, same" culture is a crushing force, and one that exerts more and more pressure upon the" teacher me". It’s the same culture that makes worksheets, multiple choice tests and the like "successful" teaching strategies. Either the worksheet is completed, or it’s not. The paper’s in, or it’s not. Who cares why, right? It’s easy to get cold and heartless about stuff like that when "everyone’s the same." What’s good for the goose, right?
"No exceptions ever" is bad policy. So is "all exceptions all the time." Teaching and learning are very, very messy. How do we create systems that honor differences AND attempt to get maximum magic? (Call it efficiency if you want to, or high achievement if you prefer. Or, simply insert your favorite accountability measure here.)
I wonder why so many of us leave after five years.
It seems to me that the answer to Bud’s question about generating maximum “magic” can be found by providing consumers with choices. Notice that one rarely hears people criticizing, say, how McDonald’s, Burger King, Wendy’s, Carl’s Junior, Jack in the Box, or Good Times produces cheeseburgers. People don’t have to worry about it, because they have choices – if Bud likes BK and I prefer McD, we can each “have it our way,” and there is no reason for conflict.
But suppose Bud had to pay McD thousands of dollars each year, regardless of whether he liked their food or even ate there. Suddenly, Bud would have an interest in how McD was spending the money; after all, it would be his money that they were spending.
In short, if you give consumers real choices, the issues about teaching styles are reduced to the extent that people can vote with their feet.
To answer the second question, why people leave teaching after a few years, I can share the experience of a friend of mine who left teaching after one year. The complete lack of accountability in the system simply disgusted him. For example, he gave a math test that had “A” and “B” forms, with forms passed out in an alternating fashion to limit cheating. Several students produced the correct answers for test “B,” though they were taking test “A!” When he reported this to parents, very few cared. Nor would the administration back him. Most of the students arrived in his class grossly unprepared from the previous year’s study, but they had all been promoted regardless, and he was expected to promote his students regardless of whether they achieved.
The interesting question to me isn’t why good people leave within five years; rather, how does anybody maintain their sanity for more than five years in such an environment?
Christopher Sessums made a comment on Joan Vinall-Cox’s blog that I have used with our ict_pd cluster teachers in New Zealand – it so cleverly captures the complexity of the teachers role.
My own belief is that teaching is a social act, a political act, and very much a situated act. I often subscribe to what I will call the Kenny Roger’s “Gambler” approach to teaching/learning: You’ve got to know when to hold ’em, know when to fold ’em, know when to walk away and know when to run. (Ugh!)I worry when I feel I am being too prescriptive with students. On the other hand, when I sense that what students need to get over a proverbial hump is a good old fashioned lecture, then that’s what I give them. Of course, I then catch myself thinking “was that the right thing to do?” Should I let them struggle some more? When do I intervene? When do I step back? It feels a lot like parenting or coaching, no?