On the last day of our Boston trip I had the opportunity to meet with Tony Wagner, author of the education book I mentioned in the “Discrepencies” post. As I said then, I had emailed Mr. Wagner and was surprised to receive a quick response from him. I emailed again when I finished the book and asked if he had any lectures or anything going on that I could attend while in Boston; he suggested lunch.
The book itself outlines the plethora of changes that really must take place in American education. Our current system of disconnected classes, multiple-choice tests, teacher tenure, and memorization-based expectations are part of an assembly-line society that barely exists in this country anymore. We produce students the way we produce cars. It doesn’t and can’t continue to work. Already my students are refusing the model. They know that in the Age of Google, memorization of certain facts, names, and dates is no longer as necessary as it was when people didn’t have access to libraries or encyclopedias. My kids need to learn to think on their feet, ask questions, figure out problems, be self-reliant, be curious, work together – and I need to learn how to teach those skills. Mr. Wagner’s book details each of these issues – what we’re teaching, how we’re testing it, how we teach teachers, how we monitor teachers, how we teach administrators, and the new ways that this generation feels about their old-system education. It is definitely an intriguing read for anyone in an education profession or with student-aged children (especially 10 and up).
The night before the meeting I was nervous. The morning of the meeting I was nervous. I couldn’t quite pin down my anxiety – he is an educator, an author, and someone whose ideas I admire and would like to learn from, but he isn’t scary. Or at least his literary voice isn’t intimidating. I know myself too well. I know that I talk too much. I don’t know how to listen. I get nervous and forget to ask questions, or don’t know which questions to ask, I trip over my words sometimes and feel silly. I have this strange imbalance of confidence and anxiety when it comes to speaking with people I consider my superiors. Tony Wagner is a published author, he taught at Harvard, he worked for the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation – he is definitely someone I consider my superior.
But here’s the problem with the way I was raised: I have no idea when I’m supposed to shut up. I believe, because my parents instilled it in me, that my opinions matter. I believe I have a right to express myself. Some people disagree. In the hierarchical society of education, a lot of people disagree. I’m supposed to go to meetings but not say anything. I’m supposed to listen only, even if I have another idea, even if I have a question, even if I have proof that what the other person is saying is completely incorrect. I can’t operate that way. Even when I go into a situation telling myself that I will not, under any circumstances, speak out to anyone, I always do. Maybe it’s my tragic flaw.
So I went to my meeting nervous that I would seen pretentious rather than articulate. Who am I to be questioning this man? What do my questions really matter? Countless teachers have been through what I’ve been through, so who am I to think I could do it differently?
What I forgot is that Tony Wagner, at his roots, is a teacher like me. Teachers are like soldiers in a way – we’ve been through the same battles, we have the same scars, we have the same kinds of victories. We understand each other. There may as well be a secret handshake we do when we meet, because once we sat down to lunch I kind of forgot that I was sitting with this amazing author and educational standard. It felt like catching up with a friend.
Over the course of our lunch I shared some of the ways I’m trying to establish a culture of rigor and thought-provoking assignments in my twelfth grade class. I shared the struggle I’m having to do the same with my ninth grade classes based on class size, lack of student motivation to read, district-imposed curriculum, tests, and writing methods. He shared some things he did as an English teacher and offered a few suggestions. Mostly he commiserated with me.
During coffee, he told me he enjoyed my company and wanted to keep in touch. He suggested that I write a book, or at least pursue writing for a teaching magazine like Education Weekly. He said he was captivated by the way I tell stories. That I am speak simply and directly and articulately. Of course that was the moment I fell over myself trying to figure out a response. How does a person respond to a compliment like that? He asked if I ever wrote. I said of course but that I don’t consider myself a writer. He offered to help me make connections with professors in the Boston University Literature MA program.
Overall I’m still stunned that this lunch even happened. I read a book. I enjoyed it. I’m naïve enough to think an author cares what I thought. I happened to be going to Boston already. (Talk about an opportunity a la The Outliers…)
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