Curriculum Windows

What Curriculum Theorists of the 1960s Can Teach Us About Schools and Society Today FS OO PR 13 P 20 IA © Curriculum Windows

What Curriculum Theorists of the 1960s Can Teach Us About Schools and Society Today

edited by

Thomas S. Poetter Miami University, Oxford, Ohio

Information Age Publishing, Inc. Charlotte, North Carolina www.infoagepub.com Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

CIP data for this book can be found on the Library of Congress website http:// www.loc.gov/index.html S OF ISBNs: Paperback: 978-1-62396-388-0 ISBNs: Hardcover: 978-1-62396-389-7 O ISBNs: eBook: 978-1-62396-390-3PR 13 P 20 IA ©

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Printed in the United States of America CONTENTS

Foreword William H. Schubert ...... S ...... ix Preface F Thomas S. Poetter ...... O...... xxiii Introduction: Curriculum Windows To Tomorrow— Openings for Curriculum and Theory andO Practice Today Despite Hauntings and Zombies Thomas S. Poetter ...... R ...... 3 ...... xxvii 1. The Power of RevolutionaryP Thought: 1 Waging Curriculum Warfare on Racial 0 Injustices in AcademiaP 2 Kyra T. Shahid ...... 1 Author/BookA studied: Walton, S. (1969). Black Curriculum: DevelopingI a Program in Afro-American© Studies. Oakland, CA: Black Liberation Publishers. 2. A Window Toward Expanded Experiences: Exposing Today’s Limited Menu of Classroom Offerings and Asking for More Variety Scott Sander ...... 17 Author/Book studied: Popham, J., Eisner, E., Sullivan, H., & Tyler, L. (1969). Instructional Objectives. AERA Monograph Series on Curriculum Evaluation. Chicago: Rand McNally.

v vi CONTENTS

3. Schools in Process: Creating “New” Priorities Leigh Ann Fish ...... 35 Author/Book studied: Berman, L. (1968). New Priorities in the Curriculum. Columbus: Merrill. 4. No More Broken Windows: Transforming the Lives of Urban School Children Mary A. Webb ...... 53 Author/Book studied: Herndon, J. (1969). The Way It Spozed To Be. New York, NY: Bantam. 5. How Reading Incentive Programs Fail Candi Pierce Garry ...... 77 Author/Book studied: Holt, J. (1964). How Children Fail. New York, NY: Dell. 6. Fifty Years of Behavioral Objectives: S For Business or for Education? Mark O’Hara ...... F...... 93 Author/Book studied: Mager, R. (1962). Preparing Instructional Objectives. Belmont, CA: Fearon Publishers.O 7. A Glimpse at Freedom Through the WindowO of Race in Society and Education: Du Bois’ Mansart Builds a School Timothy Vaughn ...... R ...... 3 ...... 109 Author/Book studied: PDuBois, W.E.B. (1957-1961).1 Manzart Builds a School. Vol. 2 of the Black Flame;0 A Trilogy, including The Ordeal (Vol. 1) and Worlds of Color (Vol. 3). New York, NY: Mainstream Publishers.P 2 8. Beyond ProjectA Versus Process: SearchingI for Progress in Education© Sara Hayes, Scott Sander, and Beck Lewellen ...... 127 Author/Book studied: Bruner, J. (1960). The Process of Education. New York, NY: Vintage Books. 9. Curriculum Midwives: Teachers, Instruction, and Students Trevor Ngorosha ...... 147 Author/Book studied: Bruner, J. (1966). Toward a Theory of Instruction. New York, NY: W.W. Norton. 10. Student Protest: Blind Ignorance or Empowering Curriculum? Rachel Radina ...... 165 Author/Book studied: Schwab, J. (1969). College Curriculum and Student Protest. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press. Contents vii

11. Hilda Taba—Curriculum Pioneer and Architect Susan Smith ...... 181 Author/Book studied: Taba, H. (1962). Curriculum Development: Theory and Practice. New York, NY: Harcourt, Brace & World. 12. Exploring Teaching As a Subversive Activity Ryan Gamm ...... 193 Author/Book studied: Postman, N., & Weingartner, C. (1969). Teaching as a Subversive Activity. New York: Dell. 13. “What Is This Child Ready For?” Interacting With John Goodlad as Malawi Eyes a 100% Primary School Completion Rate Precious Gawanani ...... 211 Author/Book studied: Goodlad, J. (1966). School, Curriculum, and the Individual. Waltham, MA: Blaisdell. 14. In Pursuit of the Common Good With Philip Phenix S Carmen Scalfaro ...... F...... 227 Author/Book studied: Phenix, P. (1961). Education and the Common Good: A Moral Philosophy of the Curriculum.O New York, NY: Harper and Brothers. 15. Windows of Success With African AmericanO Students: Inspiration From Kohl Jennifer Mills ...... R ...... 3 ...... 243 Author/Book studied: PKohl, H. (1968). 36 Children.1 New York, NY: Penguin. 0 16. Summerhill: A CallP for Significance in2 a World of Irrelevance Jocelyn WeedaA ...... 249 Author/BookI studied: Neill,© A. S. (1960). Summerhill: A Radical Approach to Child Rearing. New York, NY: Hart. 17. Hide and Seek With Philip Jackson: The Hidden Curriculum in Life in Classrooms Kelly Waldrop ...... 267 Jackson, P. (1968). Life in Classrooms. New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston. About the Authors ...... 287

FOREWORD

In Praise of Curriculum Windows

W. H. SCHUBERT William H. Schubert S OF I am pleased to be invited to comment on this volume, and I praise Tom Poetter and his colleague-students for providingO this marvelous set of windows into the relevant history available in curriculum books. Their work is praiseworthy because it recognizes Ra legacy of ideas and practices3 that are too often forgotten, and need to be remembered in1 educational thought and in action. P 0 We live in a time that is both depressingly ignorant and insightfully filled with relevant Pperspectives. The marketplace2 sadly controls educational policy with an unawareness that ideas of the past are at our finger tips in cyber-readinessIA if we will© only perceive and reflect. The authors of this book help us to tune in to the great legacy of curriculum studies at our disposal. Each chapter shows how a practicing educator-scholar of today has benefited from study of scholars who devoted a lifetime to consideration of curriculum theory and practice. In addition, each chapter made me reflect on my acquaintance with the works and authors discussed here, so I want to draw upon my 40-some years as an educator to personalize the historical windows that emerge in this book to illuminate tomorrow. I hope this book can be a clarion call to educators to read and ponder the insights herein.

Curriculum Windows: What Curriculum Theorists of the 1960s Can Teach Us About Schools and Society Today, pp. ix–xxii Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved. ix x W. H. SCHUBERT

As I read Tom Poetter’s introductory chapter and came to know this project and inspirations for it, I moved into a state of reverie. Historically, I am located between Tom and his doctoral mentor, Norman Overly. When Norm completed his PhD at Ohio State under the direction of renowned mentor, Paul Klohr, I had just finished my bachelor’s degree at Manchester College and had immediately enrolled in the Department of History and Philosophy of Education at Indiana University (IU), where Norm would later live out most of his professorial career. I vividly recall sitting in the reserve reading room at the College of Education at IU, por- ing over two curriculum books that dominated the 1960s: Fundamentals of Curriculum Development by Smith, Stanley, and Shores (1957) and The Pro- cess of Education by Jerome Bruner (1960). They were only recommended, not required for the first course I took on curriculum. I was amazed at how this reading experience was new to me. I sailed through the books as if they were written by kindred spirits, and I had not heard of the authors before. In undergraduate school I had been a deliberate reader,S and suddenly I was a speed reader—comprehending without missing a beat. In undergraduate school I had debated what major to Ftake. Adolescent rebellion made me want to explore other fields than education, the profession of my parents, whose work as educators wasO deeply respected by many, including myself. But I wanted to be different. When I took stimulating courses in literature, philosophy, history,O psychology, anthropology, biology, and more I wanted to major in each, because I thought3 that each helped me figure out more about Rwho I was and wanted to be, what I wanted to do, how, where, andP why. When, as a senior,1 I took a course in Philosophy of Education, I was introduced through0 the teaching of Rus- sell Bollinger to perennial questions of 2metaphysics, epistemology, and axiology. Writing papersP on each of these topics helped me realize that the central questionA that brought my diverse interests together was: What is worthwhile?I © The quest for this question which is both unanswerable and worth pursuing should be a beacon light for every human life. The desire to chase that question led me to study history and philosophy of education and its practical instantiation in curriculum development. As I conversed through books with B. Othanel Smith, William O. Stanley, J. Harlan Shores, and Jerome Bruner in the library at IU, I also conversed in person with Professors Philip G. Smith, Stanley E. Ballinger, Malcolm Skilbeck, and A. Stafford Clayton in classes. Clayton introduced me to John Dewey through a whole course on Democracy and Education (Dewey, 1916). From my study of Dewey, I become more convinced that my new-found dedication to educational study derived from my interest in what is worthwhile. It took a new turn, however, one that helped me see the value of making this quest with others, not merely as an individual. This insight greatly affected an Foreword xi event that happened at the conclusion of my master’s degree. Professor Smith who chaired the Department of History and Philosophy of Education asked if I was interested in one of the (then) new National Defense Education Act (NDEA) fellowships to give me a full ride in the PhD program in philosophy of education. I was deeply honored, and after anguished pondering, at the mere age of 22, I declined the offer, saying that if I were to one day teach educators, I should first gain experience as a teacher myself. Deeply within me, I somehow knew that Dewey, other philosophers of education, and curriculum theorists had so enthralled me with the curriculum question (what’s worthwhile?) that I could not just pursue it alone; I needed to share it with children and youth. So, I became an elementary school teacher in Downers Grove, Illinois for the next 8 years. As a teacher, I continued to read and used the vast resources of the Chicago area to inquire more about what is worthwhile. My students taught me a great deal about such matters as well, and I ultimately learned to listen to them, as my recent former student Brian Schultz (2008,S 2011) has portrayed so well. As I learned and listened, I decided that I wanted to Fbe able to share with other educators and therefore looked into the possibility of doctoral study. After considering a number of great universities,O I settled on the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, and my adviser was J. Har- lan Shores. When I had sped through thatO Smith, Stanley, and Shores (1957) curriculum book, little did IR realize that I would one3 day pursue a tailor-made program with J. Harlan Shores. On day one of my doctoral studies Shores advised me toP keep a record of everything1 I read, because later I would need easy access to the sources.0 There were no personal computers in 1973,P so I began to fill a large2 valise with index cards—to the point that students and faculty would know that they could stop me in the hall to askA for a reference. I used many of the cards as references for my dissertationI which was about© the interaction of what I deemed my two most important tools of teaching: my emergent philosophy and my evolving imagination. When I landed a professorial job at the University of Illi- nois at Chicago (UIC), I decided to write the most complete guide to the books of the curriculum field that I could muster, so that subsequent students and scholars could find their way around the literature more effi- ciently that I had been able to do. The project resulted in Curriculum Books: The First Eighty Years (Schubert & Lopez Schubert, 1980), and later was expanded into Curriculum Books: The First Hundred Years (Schubert, Lopez Schubert, Thomas, & Carroll, 2002). I am elated that Tom Poetter and the authors of Curriculum Windows to To m o r ro w have found these books helpful as they have embarked on the study of the relevance of ideas in key books of the 1960s. I came of age in the 1960s and now have retired—hopefully, still going strong for some xii W. H. SCHUBERT time. I see the “what’s worthwhile” question addressed many ways in each of the chapters of this book. Over the years I have expanded the question through many sources: in the lives of teachers and students (Schubert & Lopez Schubert, 1982); through a synoptic text (Schubert, 1986/1997) inspired by the Smith, Stanley, and Shores (1950, 1957) model; though insights from literature and the arts (Willis & Schubert, 1991); from the understandings of teachers and the lore of their experience (Schubert & Ayers, 1992); through the distant and recent history of curriculum discourse (e.g., Marshall, Sears, Allen Anderson, Roberts, & Schubert, 2007; and Willis, Schubert, Bullough, Kridel, & Holton, 1993), and in a quest for a more just world through education infused by loving relationships (Schubert, 2009a). Throughout these books and myriad other projects my image of what’s worthwhile morphed from the Spencerian (Spencer, 1861) question of “what knowledge is of most worth” (pp. 5-95) to a more complex question (that goes beyond traditional knowledge and does not become entangled in a search for the One best form): WhatS is worth knowing, needing, experiencing, doing, being, becoming, overcoming, sharing, contributing, and just plain wondering? (Schubert,F 2009b) Tom Poetter tells the story of his mentor, Norm Overly, bestowing upon him some 200 curriculum books and entreatingO him to do something worthwhile with them for students. Reading about this in the Introduction to this book, I recalled that Harlan ShoresO invited me to select some two hundred of his books when he retired, which I hope I 3have used well. Surely, they were a basis for writingR Curriculum Books. I now am passing many of them and thousandsP more that I acquired1 over the years to a wonderful library at Georgia Southern University0 due to the initial efforts of Ming Fang He, Professor of Curriculum2 Studies there. I thank Dean W. Bede Mitchell and hisP colleagues at the Zack S. Henderson Library, where they are developingA a special collection of historical books and documents in the historyI of curriculum studies.© Thus far, the collection includes my collection and that of Edmund C. Short. Through this book, Tom Poetter has provided a project that honors Norman Overly and helps the field become more aware of its past. The past is always within us and it is important to acknowledge and build upon it imaginatively. I am glad that this volume which focuses of the 1960s will be followed by volumes on the relevance of curriculum literature of the 1970s and 1980s. I would encourage a volume on the 1990s which is increasingly becoming historical, and others going back to the 1950s, 1940s, 1930s, 1920s, and earlier. Each decade or era still has much to offer for the future. For now, as I reflect on this volume my thoughts return to the 1960s. I finished high school, went through college, got a master’s degree and a principal’s certificate, and started a teaching career in the 1960s. I worked Foreword xiii for Indiana senators in Washington, when the landmark legislation was passed on civil rights during the summer of 1964. I wandered around the 1964 World’s Fair in New York, pondered the American isolation from much of the world and the heightened fear of the Cold War epitomized by “duck-and-cover” drills in schools wherein children would hide under desks and in hallways, being taught that they could avoid being demolished by nuclear warfare. I participated in a world of complexities—counter- cultures, free schools, freedom schools, antiwar, corporate power wielding, and behavioral objectives. I lived in rural, college town, suburban, and urban environs. I saw schools try to implement comprehensive high schools, post-Sputnik curriculum reform in packages of new math, inquiry science, Man: A Course of Study (MACOS), and language labs. I saw the American high school and teacher education vastly altered by the reports of Harvard President James Bryant Conant (1959, 1964) funded by Frank Keppel and the Carnegie Corporation. I witnessed the resilient continued practice of curriculum recipes that bastardized the call of RalphS Tyler (1949) to think seriously about educational purposes, learning experiences, organizational patterns, and evaluation. I sawF the beginnings of a curriculum theory of critique in the works of Paul Goodman, Jules Henry, Alice Miel Maxine Greene, James B. Macdonald,O Philip Phenix, Lawrence Cremin, Louise Berman, Maxine Dunfee, Elliot Eisner, Dwayne Huebner, Nelson Haggerson, Ted Aoki,O O. L. Davis, Joseph Schwab, Herbert Thelen, John Goodlad, Paul Klohr, and many more.3 Then, as now, I dreaded policy made by governmentalR and corporate pundits who could not say a sentence about anyP curriculum theorists if1 their lives depended upon it, and the bold fact is that OUR LIVES 0DO DEPEND UPON IT! I saw policymakers who only viewed the purpose2 of schooling through the lens of shifting the Pbalance of power to U.S. advantage and making U.S. corporate dominationA more competitive. I see the same today, which reiterates theI crucial need for perspectives© in this book. The power of this book is that the authors help us see how our lives depend upon educational relationships that enable and encourage us to ask what is worthwhile and to embody and enact our continuously evolving responses to this question—a question that rightly shimmers in uncertainty. Each of the chapters helps us reflect on what a key curriculum scholar of the 1960s offers us today and for the future. Each encourages us to turn to the original text. The insights of each author in this book’s chapters can be seen as heuristic devices that cultivate the interest and will to look more deeply into matters of worth that help grow our next generations. My point, then, in the paragraphs that follow is not to summarize or even comment directly on the insights offered about a given theorist of the past. The authors make their interpretive points clearly. My comments, instead, are about memories evoked about the main curriculum xiv W. H. SCHUBERT scholar emphasized in each chapter, and the kinds of mindfulness (to turn to a term with Buddhist origins) invoked for today and tomorrow. Kelly Waldrop tells us to remember Philip Jackson, and immediately I return in memory to a year-opening professional development day in Downers Grove in 1969, as a third year sixth grade teacher. A huge audi- torium was filled with hundreds of teachers, and a young University of Chicago professor named Philip Jackson approached the stage to give a spell-binding lecture in his deep oratorical voice about his new book, Life in Classrooms (Jackson, 1968). I came face-to-face with initial images of what would from then on be known as the hidden curriculum. Today and tomorrow, educational policymakers, leaders, and teachers need to reflect much more on the hidden curriculum that students experience by living under schooling, and the moral and political messages that the structures behind schooling teach. Thank you, Kelly. I am so pleased to see Kyra T. Shahid remind us of the lesser known, pioneering work of Sidney Walton Jr.’s The Black CurriculumS (1969). It reminded me of a great absence. When I was in doctoral studies, it was rare to nonexistent to find an African American or any personF of color in the curriculum literature. Even as I began attending major conferences of American Educational Research Association (AERA)O or Association for Supervision and Curriculum Development (ASCD), one simply did not encounter such major contributors as W.O E. B. DuBois, Horace Mann Bond, or Carter G. Woodson, and Rcertainly not Anna Julia3 Cooper, Ella Baker, Septema Clark, among others. Thus, Shahid’s reminders of Walton spur us to augment educationP that enacts Martin 1Luther King’s (1963) strength to love in the quest for racial justice today0 and tomorrow. Thank you, Kyra. P 2 So many curriculum books have words in the title such as “new” or “modern” andA are anything but new or modern today. Louise Berman’s (1968) NewI Priorities in Curriculum© is a grand exception; her book is as new today as it was in the 1960s, perhaps newer today with the immense traditionalism that dominates educational policy and practice. Leigh Ann Fish helps us see anew Berman’s message that we could be teaching perceiving, communicating, loving, knowing, decision making, patterning, creating, and valuing as core processes to enliven any subject area instead of merely covering traditional subject areas. Berman provides a truly exemplary curriculum proposal from one of the few women who emerged to prominence in the curriculum field of the 1960s. Thank you, Leigh Ann. Candi Pierce Garry makes John Holt come alive. As an elementary school teacher in the late-1960s, I read Holt’s How Children Fail (1964) and other works, and in 1968 I wrote to him from school on a large key, manual, primary typewriter. Holt actually responded as if he was my friend and colleague. Why did curriculum theorists rarely acknowledge Foreword xv his work, often degrading it with the term romantic, and writing him off as was often done with other teacher-authors who wrote about the children with whom they learned and grew: Sylvia Ashton-Warner, Herb Kohl, Jon- athan Kozol, James Herndon, George Dennison, Bel Kaufman, and others. The point is that practitioners, leaders of practice, and policymakers need to listen to teachers and to children themselves as John Holt brilliantly modeled. Thank you, Candi. John Goodlad never lost touch with schools and never wanted to do so, as Precious Gawanani shows us clearly through lenses of his early work (Goodlad, 1966). Long time dean at UCLA, Goodlad began his career as an advocate of nongraded schools, meaning that individual needs and interests should supersede arbitrary placement in same-age groupings. His significance holds special meaning for me from the time I was a second year elementary school teacher, when a principal in the district who taught an introduction to education course at a nearby community college asked me to substitute for him. He said that I did not have to worry Sabout what to teach, because he had a filmed lecture by John Goodlad for me to show. I did not know Goodlad’s work, and as I showed it, I suddenlyF hoped to do that kind of work some day. During the discussion of the film, I felt like I was doing what I was meant to do. Goodlad was oneO of the rare deans who kept his research alive while deaning. Thank you, Precious. Mark O’Hara’s rendition of behavioral Oobjectives pioneered by Robert Mager (1962) brought back the queasyR uneasiness or maybe3 I should say disease bestowed on education by the intrusion of business. Speaking of business, Mager was from theP corporate training world1 and garnered millions from this small programmed learning book0 on behavioral objectives. I recall a workshop Pon behavioral objectives,2 in which the instructor said we should write a behavioral objective for each thing we do as teachers. I remember thinkingA that if I did that I would have to stop teaching, write continuously,I and then I would© not be doing anything. There were leg- ends about house trailers and attacks at the state capital overflowing with behavioral objectives. I guiltily recollect that in desperate need of summer employment, I accepted a job writing for a corporation that created a computerized bank of behavioral objectives and concomitant test items using Bloom (1956) and Krathwohl, Bloom, and Masia (1964) higher levels of cognitive and affective functioning for works of literature. As a teacher, I tried so hard to keep meaning alive that behavior objectives threatened to destroy. I remember the relief I found in Elliot Eisner’s (1969) call for expressive objectives. The point is to view with many cave- ats the intrusion of corporate control in teaching, texts, and tests. Thank you, Mark. I am grateful to Rachel Radina for selecting Joseph Schwab’s (1969a) treatise on curriculum and student protest. I remember getting to know xvi W. H. SCHUBERT

Schwab at conferences and through correspondence, after I had published pieces in the 1980s about his advocacy of practical inquiry and eclectic arts, based on his landmark article on practical inquiry in School Review (Schwab, 1969b). The point I derive from his College Curriculum and Student Protest (Schwab, 1969a) is captured well in Rachel Radina’s concluding paragraph. She emphasizes that listening to the wisdom of students is essential to the great educational and democratic projects of our present and future, and the listening must be infused with love. If education is to be meaningful, caring, edifying, and democratic today and tomorrow we must listen to students who live daily under the autocratic ethos of standardization, testing, and more testing—pushing us toward privatization of education. Thank you, Rachel. Returning to the AERA Monograph Series on Curriculum Evaluation (1967, 1969), a focus selected by Scott Sander, reopens the window of evaluation, broadly conceived. When one combines perspectives on evaluation of Ralph Tyler, Robert Gagne, and Michael Scriven fromS the 1967 volume and Elliot Eisner, James Popham, H. J. Sullivan, and Louise Tyler in the 1969 volume, one is exposed to a much broader Fand deeper perspective on evaluation than that touted by policymakers then or now. It is incredible to me that perspectives of half a centuryO ago are so far more advanced than the pseudotheory that guides educational evaluation and accountability policy today. I am increasinglyO convinced that educators of tomorrow must demand these and Rother expansive perspectives,3 and not ones that reduce education to trivialities of one form of linearity. Testing is no where near to evaluationP writ large, and the purpose1 of evaluation should be feedback for the improvement of curriculum0 and teaching, not for invidious comparisonsP of teachers, students,2 schools, communities, races and ethnic groups, or nations. Thank you, Scott. I commendA Susan Smith for realizing the import of Hilda Taba’s (1962) synopticI text that dominated© the preparation of curriculum leaders throughout the 1960s and much of the 1970s. Her work which showed more of the interdisciplinary character of curriculum development aug- mented contributions Ralph Tyler, who told me a story about the two of them at a meeting of the major committees of the Eight Year Study in the 1930s. Tyler was evaluation director and Taba was his associate. After the curriculum committee presented at a meeting, someone said that they needed a rationale like the evaluation team had, and Tyler said something like, “Well, shucks Hilda, if they want a rationale for curriculum, we can provide one,” so they sketched on a napkin what became the outline for Tyler’s renowned Basic Principles of Curriculum and Instruction (Tyler, 1949), which has dominated curriculum practice and policy from the 1950s to today. Although we may think of limitations and criticisms of the Tyler rationale, it is only a small part of contributions from this scholar Foreword xvii whose mark on the 1960s is indelible and who was an educational adviser to six U.S. Presidents, including those of the 1960s. We ought to reflect on how many curriculum scholars have been known by U.S. Presidents, Sec- retaries of Education, and other governmental or private sector policymakers, and try to figure out why Tyler reached them. As well, we need to study the mutual influence of Tyler and Taba to reflect on Hilda Taba’s substantial influence. Thank you, Susan. Today it is the rage to look for alternatives to the schooling by edict and servitude, and in this regard the choice of Jocelyn Weeda to reconsider Britain’s Summerhill by A. S. Neill (1960) is valuable. Magnet and charter schools, some private and progressive schools, and posh suburban schools move in the Summerhillian direction. Nonetheless, there is immense reluctance to give students choice and to let their imaginative spontaneity surge forward. That such freedom is mostly for the upper classes is captured by the story of a member of the House of Lords who heard about freedom for the children of working and middleS class at Summerhill, so he had his limo driver take him there for a visit. After a day of interaction at Summerhill, he returned to the limoF astounded, saying something like, “That was amazing. Why, they have almost as much freedom at this Summerhill place as they do at Westminster!”O We need to wonder with utmost seriousness if middle and lower socioeconomic class schools in the U.S. really need scripts, a steadyO barrage of tests, standardized products, and more stringent rulesR or if they need experience3 akin to the freedom of Summerhill. Thank you, Jocelyn. There is a very real connectionP between this last1 point and the way James Herndon (1968) thought it was spozed 0to be as he learned from teaching in schools ofP the urban poor as Mary2 Webb shows well. Herndon represents a coterie of counterculture educators, often trained by liberal arts and grassrootsA experience, such as John Holt, Herb Kohl, George Dennison, Iand Jonathan Kozol.© They discovered new ways, somewhat similar to their progressive predecessors, and their books were among the best sellers, rare indeed for books on education. Often books by these revolutionary teachers were books were discounted by educators in the academy who pejoratively labeled them romantics. Nevertheless, they were acknowledged by Paul Klohr (1971) as greening the curriculum in much the same way as Charles Reich (1970) called for The Greening of America and reflected the spirit of Theodore Roszack’s (1969) urging to make counterculture. Clearly, from those who dare to challenge the system on the ground, we are in dire need of a new greening that counters the dominant, dominating, and bedraggled milieu of schooling and brings about a plurality of ways it spozed to be. I recall how these books spoke to me in my during the summer of 1972, after my fifth year of teaching, when I took a summer course in alternative forms of education taught by xviii W. H. SCHUBERT

Donald Erickson and Bruce Cooper at the University of Chicago, and came to know the work of Joseph Schwab at the same time. Thank you, Mary. Realizing that Ryan Gamm selected Teaching as a Subversive Activity by Postman and Weingartner (1969) immediately drew me back to my third year of teaching when Park Hampel brought me a copy of the book—hot off the press. It was especially meaningful since in 1961-62 Park had been a sixth grade teacher when I was a high school senior in Butler, Indiana, where I took an “Exploratory Teaching” course initiated by my mother, a high school math and social studies teacher. Each day I spent about an hour in his classroom and did some of the teaching. Shortly after receiving the book, I put many of the ideas and practical approaches to work in my own sixth grade classes. Especially relevant, then and now, was the Post- man and Weingertner admonition to engage in crap detection—something sorely needed today and for doubtless many tomorrows. Thank you, Ryan. Inspired by Sara Hayes, Scott Sander, and Beck Lewellen, I returnS in my mind to the library at Indiana University where I first pondered Jerome Bruner’s (1960) call for processes of inquiry and imaginationF patterned after those exhibited by the best scholars’ awareness of the salient structure of any discipline. From Bruner’s work it was deducedO that if a student grasped the integral structure of a discipline, he or she would be able to make meaning of any dimension of phenomenaO in that discipline. U.S. teachers were blamed, as they are today,R for failure to kee3p up with other world economic and political powers. So subject matter specialists and psychologists were solicited to reformP education. Curriculum1 reform packages proliferated then, just as reform mandates do today,0 to teacher proof the curriculum. I recall my parentsP attending meetings2 on new math, inquiry learning, and other post-Sputnik reforms in the early 1960s. For the most part, however, in-serviceA education was too brief and superficial to bring meaningful change.I This turning of ©liberating ideas, such as those of Bruner, into rote recipes debased their original intention. Focus on this era should provide precedent for curriculum policy tomorrow, if policymakers will only consider it seriously. Thank you, Beck, Scott, and Sara. I am heartened by the fact that Timothy Vaughn has chosen to remind us of what I also deem THE GREAT NEGLECTED, namely, the insightful work of African American scholars against all odds. From W. E. B. DuBois to Carter G. Woodson, one can hardly find a citation in mainstream curriculum books of the 1960s or before. Clearly, they were both Other and othered, if recognized at all. This dreadful state of affairs has not departed —far from it. Vaughn’s selection of Mansart Builds a School (DuBois, 1959) is of particular value because so many are unfamiliar with this source. It reinforces the need to take seriously the writings of African Americans on curriculum and for that I site many of the works of William H. Watkins, Foreword xix the first of my advisees to complete a dissertation, in 1986, noting especially his categorization of Black orientations to curriculum (Watkins, 1993). Educational policymakers of today need to build on the understanding of the orientations that Watkins sets forth. Thank you, Timothy. Through Trevor Ngorosha from Zimbabwe we reencounter Jerome Bruner and learn why many in the international community see Dewey and Bruner as the two most influential educational scholars to come from the United States. We can see Bruner’s (1966) theory of instruction as a fluid structure (oxymoronic as that may sound) that is capable of transla- tion and retranslation into diverse cultural realms. A conceptual and practical flow of ideas is needed to theoretically integrate meanings of development, knowledge, and instruction in different cultures. Bruner’s lenses enable adaptation to needs and interests that derive from colonialism, postcolonialism, and neocolonialism. Looking at Bruner and Paulo Freire (1970) together with Elliot Eisner, William Pinar, and others shows an eclecticism that is needed to pursue one of the most neglectedS and necessary trajectories for enhancing curriculum understanding—namely, to find instances of grassroots curricular theory and practiceF throughout the world that have arisen to overcome educational policies and practices that have served the greed of power-wielders ratherO than the needs and interests of learners. We need to open that window to human goodness widely. Thank you, Trevor. O To move in such a direction requiresR steady focus on3 goodness, and Carmen Scalfaro points in that direction by invoking the work of Philip Phenix. A noted theologian,P philosopher, philosopher1 of science, Phe- nix’s dissertation committee was made up of0 philosophers of science (Ernst Nagel and FelixP Cohen) and eminent2 theologians (Niebuhr and Tillich), and before that his senior thesis at Princeton on rotation was praised by AlbertA Einstein. Finding scientific empirical knowing to be only one of manyI realms of meaning,© Phenix (1964) argued that many different avenues must be taken to approach the common good (Phenix, 1961). Approaching the good requires a reverence for the diversity of nature and uniqueness of each person that enables continuous growth of understanding and virtue. Again, then, one of my favorite projects of retirement is to explore examples of education in diverse cultural settings that have overcome oppression and constraint by realizing something of the reverence that Phenix sees in education that strives toward the common good. Thank you, Carmen. The essay by Jennifer Mills on Herb Kohl is a fitting piece for concluding this commentary. It reminds me that my reading of Kohl’s (1967) 36 Children shortly after it was published inspired me to continue creating a more open classroom as an elementary school teacher—seeing this as a new incarnation of progressive education with its beginnings in Dewey. xx W. H. SCHUBERT

Kohl was educated in the liberal arts, philosophy, and the cultural revolution of the day—a background with which I resonate—all features of the student revolution that Joseph Schwab addressed with insightful seriousness. Kohl worked brilliantly with African American children, which brings images of DuBois’s Mansart and Walton’s critique. Kohl responded from inside the hidden curriculum of classrooms—from living in classrooms that Philip Jackson studied as a scholar. Kohl was engaged in crap detection before Postman and Weingartner named it, and he expressed its detection in his opposition to myriad mandated constraints on teacher and student freedom—an illustration of which resides in oppressive uses of Mager’s behavioral objectives. In the spirit of Louise Berman’s challenge, Kohl also focused on new priorities without necessarily naming these integrative human processes in the same way that she did. Like Herndon, Kohl brought aesthetic sensibilities to bear on the continuous reconfigurations of his students’ experiences, illustrating Eisner’s image of evaluation as connoisseurship of their flowing relationshipsS to build expressive objectives with them. Moreover, Kohl exemplified that the value of careful reflection on curriculum development Fwas not a recipe (which I feel sure that Tyler, Taba, and Goodlad would approve); rather, it was a process to be embodied and shared with studentsO as they internalize curriculum-making for their lives in much the same way that Bruner advocated internalization of the deep structuresO of inquiry and imagination from the disciplines. Kohl and his students strove to3 do all this, as Holt called for so clearly, without Rfear of failure, and a never reachable though always approachableP end that Philip Phenix1 saw as the common good. To do this, educators clearly need to engage0 in great political and economic struggles to overcome what Paulo2 Freire labeled banking pedagogy to open the windowsP of problem posing pedagogy. Of course, we know that Herb KohlA and others represented in this volume were exemplary teachers. TooI many similar teachers,© sadly, are pushed out of the profession. All of us, especially policymakers, need to ask how to engage and retain such exemplary curriculum-minded teachers. Thank you, Jennifer, for stimulating this concluding reflection on Herb Kohl in a way that invokes landscapes that can be clearly viewed through windows provided by authors who are represented in this volume. The windows that Tom Poetter, all of the authors of chapters of this book, and the curriculum scholars revisited here clearly need to be opened in order that we may benefit from breezes of revitalization for educational improvement today and tomorrow. Focusing on the works and ideas presented here helps us more fully ponder and pursue what is worth knowing, needing, experiencing, doing, being, becoming, overcoming, sharing, contributing, and wondering. Thank you, Tom and company! Foreword xxi

REFERENCES

American Educational Research Association Monograph Series on Curriculum Evaluation, Number 1 (1967) Perspectives of curriculum evaluation (by R. W. Tyler, R. M. Gagne, & M. Scriven). Chicago, IL: Rand McNally. American Educational Research Association Monograph Series on Curriculum Evaluation, Number 2 (1969) Perspectives of curriculum evaluation (by W. J. Popham, E. W. Eisner, H. J. Sullivan, & L. L. Tyler). Chicago, IL: Rand McNally. Berman, L. M. (1968). New priorities in the curriculum. Columbus, OH: Merrill. Bloom, B. S. (Ed.). (1956). A taxonomy of educational objectives: The cognitive domain. New York, NY: David McKay. Bruner, J. (1960). The process of education. New York, NY: Vintage. Bruner, J. (1966) Toward a theory of instruction. New York, NY: W. W. Norton. Conant, J. B. (1959). The American high school today. New York, NY: McGraw-Hill. Conant, J. B. (1964). The education of American teachers. New York, NY: McGraw-Hill. Dewey, J. (1916) Democracy and education. New York, NY: Macmillan. DuBois, W. E. B. (1959). Mansart builds a school. New York, NY: Mainstream.S Eisner, E. W. (1969). Instructional and experessive objectives: FTheir formulation and use in curriculum. In W. J. Popham (Ed.), American Educational Research Association Monograph Series on Curriculum Evaluation, Number 2: Perspectives of curriculum evaluation (pp. 1-18). Chicago, IL: RandO McNally. Freire, P. (1970). Pedagogy of the oppressed. New York, NY: Continuum. Goodlad, J. I. (1966). School, curriculum, and the Oindividual. Waltham, MA: Blaisdell. Herndon, J. (1968). The way it spozed to be. New York, NY: Simon3 & Schuster. Holt, J. (1964). How children fail. New York,R NY: Delta. Jackson, P. W. (1968). Life in classrooms.P New York, NY: Holt,1 Reinhart, & Winston. King, M. L., Jr. (1963). Strength to love. Philadelphia,0 PA: Fortress Press. Klohr, P. R. (1971). The greening of curriculum. Educational Leadership 28(5), 455- 457. P 2 Kohl, H. (1967). 36 children. New York, NY: New American Library. Krathwohl, D. AR., Bloom, B. S., & Masia, B. B.(Eds.). (1964). A taxonomy of educational objectives:I The affective domain.© New York, NY: David McKay. Mager, R. F. (1962). Preparing instructional objectives. Palo Alto, CA: Fearon. Marshall, J. D., Sears, J. T., Allen, L., Roberts, P., & Schubert, W. H. (2007). Tu r n - ing points in curriculum: A contemporary curriculum memoir (2nd ed.). Columbus, OH: Prentice Hall. Neill, A. S. (1960). Summerhill: A radical approach to child rearing. New York, NY: Hart. Phenix, P. H. (1961). Education and the common good. New York, NY: Harper & Brothers. Phenix, P. H. (1964). Realms of meaning. New York, NY: McGraw-Hill. Postman, N. & Weingartner, C. (1969). Teaching as a subversive activity. New York, NY: Dell. Reich, C. (1970). The greening of America. New York, NY: Random House. Roszak, T. (1969). The making of a counter-culture. Berkeley, CA: University of Cali- fornia Press. xxii W. H. SCHUBERT

Schubert, W. H. (1975). Imaginative projection: A method of curriculum invention (Unpublished PhD dissertation). University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign. Schubert, W. H., & Lopez Schubert A. L. (1980). Curriculum books: The first eighty years. Lanham, MD: University Press of America. Schubert, W. H., & Lopez Schubert, A. (Eds). (1982). Conceptions of curriculum knowledge: Focus on students and teachers. College Station, College of Education: Pennsylvania State University. Schubert, W. H. (1997). Curriculum: Perspective, paradigm, and possibility. New York: Macmillan. (Original work published 1986) Schubert, W. H. & Ayers, W. (Eds.). (1992). Teacher lore: Learning from our own experience. White Plains, NY: Longman. Schubert, W. H. (1997). Curriculum: Perspective, paradigm, and possibility. Columbus, OH: Prentice-Hall. Schubert, W. H., Lopez Schubert, A. L. L., Thomas, T. P., & Carroll, W. M. (2002). Curriculum books: The first hundred years. New York, NY: Peter Lang. Schubert, W. H. (2009a). Love, justice, and education: John Dewey and the Utopians. Charlotte, NC: Information Age Publishing. Schubert, W. H. (2009b). What’s worthwhile: From knowing and experiencingS to being and becoming. Journal of Curriculum and Pedagogy, 6(1), 22-40. Schultz, B. D. (2008). Spectacular things happen along the way. NewF York, NY: Teach- ers College Press. Schultz, B. D. (Ed.). (2011). Listening to and learning fromO students. Charlotte, NC: Information Age Publishing. Schwab, J. J. (1969a). College curriculum and studentO protest. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press. 3School Review, 78 Schwab, J. J. (1969b). The practical: A languageR for curriculum. , 1-23. 1 Smith, B. O., Stanley, W. O., &P Shores, J. H. (1950). Fundamentals of curriculum development. Yonkers, NY: World Book. 0 Smith, B. O., Stanley,P W. O., & Shores, J. H.2 (1957). Fundamentals of curriculum development (Revised ed.). New York, NY: Harcourt, Brace, and World. Spencer, H. (1861).A Education: Intellectual, moral, and physical. New York, NY: D. Appleton.I © Taba, H. (1962). Curriculum development: Theory and practice. New York, NY: Har- court, Brace, & World. Tyler, R. W. (1949). Basic principles of curriculum and instruction. Chicago, IL: Uni- versity of Chicago Press. Walton, S. F. (1969). The Black curriculum. East Palo Alto, CA: Black Liberation Publishers. Watkins, W. H. (1993). Black curriculum orientations: A preliminary inquiry. Har- vard Educational Review, 63(3), 321-338. Willis, G. H., & Schubert, W. H. (Eds.). (1991). Reflections from the heart of educational inquiry: Understanding curriculum and teaching through the arts. Albany, NY: State University of New York Press. Willis, G. H., Schubert, W. H., Bullough, R., Kridel, C., & Holton, J. (Eds.). (1993). The American curriculum: A documentary history. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press. PREFACE

By now you know that you have picked up a volume assembled by doctoral students in curriculum at Miami University that address curriculum books/theorists from the 1960s. The goals for the course they took with me to generate these chapters were to study the curriculum field, and as a result of their study of these past works, in particular, to open Swindows of idea and thought that bridge the timelessness and timelinessF of these classics for the field both in terms of today and tomorrow. As I have tried to make clear on other projectsO involving doctoral students in curriculum courses where the goals for the class are to develop a history together that is curricular throughO the study of curriculum texts and the exercise of complicated conversations—in order to understand more about the broad, wide field andR history of curriculum3 studies, and to try on for size the activity of curriculumP theorizing through1 which the students actually produce a piece of publishable scholarship0 that contributes to the important, democratic end of curriculum understanding (Pinar, 2012; Poetter, 2010)—theP results will always2 be mixed. That does not mean there isA no book, that the project should be shelved, because the work is goingI to be, of course, uneven.© In my opinion, though, in fact, just like most other volumes assembled by experts or other types of scholarly inquirers on the journey toward and into new knowledge, the pieces here are all credible works of curriculum theorizing that can open windows to new ideas and new ways of thinking about important ideas, concepts, theories, and practices in our field of study. However, to me there is no doubt that they do represent a continuum of pieces in terms of quality, reach, and value. This is inevitable given that we all start and end in different places as students of the field and as inquirers/researchers.

Curriculum Windows: What Curriculum Theorists of the 1960s Can Teach Us About Schools and Society Today, pp. xxiii–xxv Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved. xxiii xxiv T. S. POETTER

Having said this, it is hard to pin down just which chapters here are the most and least valuable in terms of these aspects. When groups of student readers have sampled these chapters in draft form, chapters I thought to be less “complete,” for example, readers often thought them to be the most interesting, informative, and/or inspiring. I cannot come close to being able to explain this, except to say (1) that each piece is unique within the context of this work, though the writers did have a similar set of experiences along the way with each other and me in the course that spawned the project; and (2) that I hope each writer’s idiosyncratic view, their insight and mental effort, comes through and takes us as readers to new places, through an open window perhaps, along our individual and collective curriculum journeys. Much depends on the writer and the reader. We will be interested in finding out what you think of the volume. I also want to add here that I encountered a new phenomenon on this project related to the creation and production of the chapters that I had not encountered before with students on similar projects. InS this case, more pieces that started out somewhat incomplete became stronger and in my opinion passed in stature others that were much strongerF on their first draft and that made it to print with very little editing. I am not sure what happened, but I think that in this case someO of the authors of pieces that missed the mark the first time around found a new gear in their work and turned it on after the first rounds of feedbackO and through their editing stages. In a few cases, teams formedR to strengthen manuscripts,3 and in other cases authors found individual peer reviewers who really helped them improve their writing.P To a certain degree, 1in terms of coaching early drafts, I perhaps reached a stage at which0 my feedback was not so helpful anymore. Meaning,P more eyes are2 better than one set on a manu- script sometimes; this proved to be the case for several chapters here, which is a trueA attestation to the strength and resolve of the authors and their friendsI in the course, who© worked together at times to assure that manuscripts became of publishable quality. I want to thank several students formally here for their help on the course and this book project. Leigh Ann Fish took an early challenge from me to keep notes for the class, and these notes became very helpful when it came time to put the book together. Her class notes helped me, in particular, to revisit important conversations in our class, which was very helpful for penning the introduction. Also, Leigh Ann did some further study in the literature on the metaphor of windows and forwarded several articles she had been reading, which also greatly enhanced my work on the introduction. And Kelly Waldrop took the lead to propose presenta- tions of our early work at conferences, most notably for Bergamo in Fall 2012. She also contacted Bill Schubert to see if he would be interested in serving as a respondent for that session, which led to Bill’s deep involve- Preface xxv ment with and support of the project, which included not only the conference presentation and a campus visit to Oxford to work with the authors of this volume and our current class (the one working on book two on 1970s curriculum books/theorists), but also to writing the foreword for the book included here. Bill’s contributions to the project have been incalcu- lable, and we are very grateful to him for his insights and support. Also, I want to thank Kyra T. Collier for the artwork she prepared for her chapter, which became the cover for this volume. Her montage compilation of types of windows is a striking visual cue and a wonderful contribution to this volume. Last, I want to thank the Department of Educational Leadership at Miami University, especially past department chairs Kate Rousmaniere and Michael Dantley, as well as current chair Kathleen Knight-Abowitz, for naming me to teach the core seminar in our doctoral program that feeds this project. They and my colleagues in the department have seen fit to give me a 3-year run with the course (2012-2014) so that SI can work on this project with students. That is a very generous gift. But not least, I want to thank the amazing students who helped compileF this volume. They truly are talented, forward-thinking students who took this project very seriously. And despite their initial fears aboutO being up to the challenge, they came through with flying colors. As I have said before on similar projects, I could have written all of Othese chapters myself, but the chapters would not be nearly as diverse or interesting. The chapters here reflect the “complicated conversations”R (Pinar, 2012) that3 are curriculum. Our hope is that they advanceP further conversations1 about the field for our readers. 0 Thomas S. Poetter P 2 Oxford, OhioA 2013 I ©

REFERENCES

Pinar, W. (2012). What is curriculum theory? New York, NY: Peter Lang. Poetter, T. (2010). Taking the leap, mentoring doctoral students as scholars: A great and fruitful morass. Teaching & Learning: The Journal of Natural Inquiry & Reflective Practice, 24(1), 22-29.

INTRODUCTION

Curriculum Windows to Tomorrow— Openings for Curriculum Theory and Practice Today Despite Hauntings and Zombies FS T. S . P O E T T E R Thomas S. PoetterOO Getting Started, Opening WindowsR 13 In 2006, my doctoral advisorP and close friend—Norman V. Overly, Emeritus Curriculum Professor of Indiana University—decided0 to donate a significant portionP of his professional library2 of curriculum books. Norm contacted my friend and colleague at Miami University, Robert Burke, also one of Norm’sIA former advisees ©at Indiana University (IU), to arrange for the books to be brought to Miami University in order for them to be made available through my office to students of curriculum. When I received the books, over 100 of them, I couldn’t believe my eyes. There were copies of famous texts, some of which I had read, but many I had only read “about.” Many volumes of ASCD’s Curriculum Yearbooks all the way back to the 1940s were there, along with Dewey’s Democracy and Education (1916), Bob- bitt’s How to Make a Curriculum (1924), and Stratemeyer, Forkner, and McKim’s Developing a Curriculum for Modern Living (1947), for example, dotting the landscape diversity of texts that I sorted and ultimately made

Curriculum Windows: What Curriculum Theorists of the 1960s Can Teach Us About Schools and Society Today, pp. xxvii–xlv Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved. xxvii xxviii T. S. POETTER available to students for use through a dedicated bookcase in my office. Some of them were first editions; some were autographed by the author. A treasure trove. As I made my way through the project of sorting through the books, putting my eyes and hands on them and giving them a home, I felt a certain excitement and some melancholy. I felt excitement because the books represented a vibrant history of knowledge and action in the curriculum field, one that I had been close to through my association with Norm, who himself witnessed the transformation of ASCD in the 60s, the reconceptualization of the curriculum field in the 1970s, and the founding of the World Council on Curriculum and Instruction (WCCI), and his impact through his advising at IU of well-known curriculum scholars like James Sears and Patti Lather. But I also felt a certain melancholy, knowing that this moment marked a “passing of the torch,” that is, that Norm was finished with the books and passing them on to the next generations of scholars. I felt a responsibility for making the books available, Sfor honoring his legacy and contributions to the field, and for making sure, in some way, that many of the books that I had not read on that Fshelf found their way onto my own reading list. After all, it is humbling for anyone professing toO be a curriculum scholar to read Schubert, Lopez, Thomas, and Carroll’s (2002) treatment of the field in Curriculum Books: The First Hundred OYears (Second Edition) and realize that Schubert has read almost all (ifR not actually all) of the3 books listed, annotated, and discussed there! I read Schubert’s first edition of Curriculum Books: The First Eighty Years (1980)P in a curriculum seminar1 with Norm at IU in the summer of 1990 and felt overwhelmed by0 the work way back then. How could it be thatP someone had read all2 of these books, and how would I make sense of the field and continue working in it without reading all of them myself? AOver the years, I made peace with the fact that I was not Bill Schubert, Ibut I also took seriously© the gaps in my knowledge and attempted to read at least as many curriculum books from the 20th century that interested me. Just a few years ago, I reached for a volume from Norm’s library in my office and a sudden thought gripped me, mostly unformed at that point, but powerful nonetheless. I was using the second edition of Curriculum Books in a curriculum seminar, and probably as a result of thinking of the books by decade, I had noticed that several from the 1970s had been grouped together on the shelf such as Goodlad’s Curriculum Inquiry (1979), Tanner and Tanner’s Curriculum Development: Theory into Practice (1975), and Zais’ Curriculum: Principles and Foundations (1976). I began sorting the books by decade, on a whim in that moment, and as I piled the 1960s books together and reread portions of Schubert’s chapter on the 1960s, I began to feel like I had not read nearly enough, in particular, Introduction xxix from that decade. There were so many ideas and possibilities wrapped up in the texts from that period that continue to resonate, at least with me, that I began to wonder what curriculum scholars and practitioners today could learn if the books were reread and appreciated by today’s scholars/ students of curriculum. Suddenly, as I peered out the beautiful arched window in my office, I thought of the heuristic device that has guided this project from its inception: Curriculum Windows. I wondered: How might a review of key books from the curriculum field of the 1960s illuminate new possibilities forward for us today? How might the theories, practices, and ideas wrapped up in curriculum texts of the 1960s still resonate with us, allow us to see backward in time and forward in time, all at the same time? How could these figurative windows of insight, thought, ideas, fantasy, and fancy make us think differently about curriculum, teaching, learning, students, education, leadership, and schools? How could they challenge us? How could they help us see more clearly, even perhaps put us on a path to correct the mistakesS and mis- steps of intervening decades, and today? And, how could I engage doctoral students in curriculum at Miami in a journey likeF this with me, opening windows to tomorrow by looking back today? How could I get students of curriculum, perhaps on their first formalO scholarly journey, to express themselves and new ideas in ways that could be consumed by peers and colleagues in the curriculum field?O After some past successes with studentsR in doctoral seminars3 working on book publishing projects (Poetter, 2010; Poetter & Associates, 2011; Poet- ter, Bird, & Goodney, 2004; Poetter,P Wegwert, & Haerr,1 2006), I was able to incorporate the project into a doctoral seminar0 in the Spring semester of 2012 in our Leadership,P Culture, and Curriculum2 program in the Depart- ment of Educational Leadership (EDL) at Miami University. Because of the excellent opportunityA presented to me by then chair Kate Rousmaniere to teach a newI doctoral core class© in curriculum, I was able to generate a large class of participants. This commitment by leadership in our department to assign me to this class created the possibility for not only the authors showcased here to participate in this project, but for future students in 2013 and 2014 to generate Curriculum Windows books about the 1970s and 1980s. Michael Dantley then assigned me to teach the course through 2014, when I will hand it over to esteemed colleagues Dennis Carlson and Denise Taliafero-Baszile. As you can see, everyone associated with this project is in good curriculum company. I followed a “formula” for organizing the curriculum seminar for the 19 students who signed up for it that has worked well on past projects with doctoral students (Poetter, 2010). I decided that we needed several “grounding” texts in curriculum studies to read together. I chose three books that I thought would take us deeply into questions about curriculum xxx T. S. POETTER and teaching, and immerse us in the field together around dialogue and questions for the first 9 weeks of the course, and a fourth that would serve as a model for our class project: Bill Pinar’s (2012) What is Curriculum The- ory?; Schubert’s (1980) Curriculum Books; Pinar, Reynolds, Slattery, & Taub- man’s (2002) Understanding Curriculum; and Poetter et al.’s (2011) 10 Great Curricula, as an example of doctoral student writing in chapter form. For me as the instructor, the dialogical work the students did on these texts and together in class impressed me. They engaged the topics deeply, critiqued them, brought new perspectives to the table, and developed several frames for thinking through key issues that informed this introduction. All at the same time, they began reading and doing background research on the book they chose to focus on for this project. During the final 7 weeks of the course, students spent their time working mostly independently on their own book chapters. I supported each student with an individual meeting about progress, and then one additional all group meeting to do some peer/sharing of rough drafts/outlinesS of the chapters. As with other book projects I have done in the past with students, the class had to agree that the course would Fnot end in May, despite the fact that they would receive a final grade from me then. Instead, all of them signed contracts with the bookO publisher to deliver a completed book chapter, and knew, of course, that it might take longer than the time set aside for the course toO complete the chapter. I made time in my schedule to devote parts of the summer and3 fall of 2012 to working on chapter revisions with Rstudents, knowing full well that final chapter drafts would not be Pready for submission to1 the publisher until the late winter of 2013. 0 When I came to classP on the first night 2of the seminar in January 2012, I had more than 20 books from the 1960s in tow in a large bag. I had chosen them basedA on my reading of Schubert’s chapter on the 60s in Curric- ulum Books Iand based on what I ©had in my library from my own and from Norm’s collection. I used Curriculum Books as a sort of filter for choosing books that represented different movements in the curriculum literature of the decade, but not exclusively. Also, selfishly, some of my choices were based on books I wanted to read and hadn’t read yet! I certainly figured that if an author wrote a chapter for the book, then I definitely had to have read the book myself! I started reading the books in the course about 2 months ahead, and worked on the 18 that were chosen and highlighted here in separate book chapters throughout the semester (and beyond!) as we worked feverishly together on the project. I figured one of the more difficult things to do in the course would be to get so many students settled on a text without them fighting over them. But I was rewarded with a cordial round of interest-sharing the first night of class. On a cold night, sheltered in McGuffey Hall, students met Introduction xxxi for the first time, pored over my descriptions of the books and the books themselves, then before leaving the room on that first night indicated a book or several that they might be interested in reading to me privately on a sheet of paper. When several indicated they were interested in the same book, I looked for alternatives over the next week to present at the next class. I thought it especially important to get each student settled on a book early on so that the seminar conversations would impact their reading of the chosen text and influence their meaning-making processes throughout the course. Multiple people having interest in the same books happened especially with Kozol and Kohl, two significant “romantics” from the 60s; so I added Holt and Herndon, which created a group of four students taking on these omnipresent and influential books of the 1960s that had a profound impact on the field and how we think about curriculum, teaching, and schools today. I also felt that since the 1960s are underrepresented in terms of authors of color and women in the curriculum studies canon reified by SCurriculum Books, that in addition to Walton’s (1969) The Black Curriculum we would include DuBois’ Manzart Builds a School (1959), publishedF as the second volume in a trilogy of novels from 1957-1961. My hope was that we would have a strong discussion in this book of issues of race,O which are prominent in the curriculum field today and in our program at Miami University. I also included Berman’s New Priorities in theO Curriculum (1968) and Taba’s Curriculum Development (1962) to reflect the rich contributions3 of women to the field in that decade. (*all books readR by students in the course for chapter drafting are starred (*) inP the references for this chapter*)1 Anticipating that students would see the models0 for student chapters embedded in 10 GreatP Curricula, but that2 they still would have questions about how they might ultimately structure their own chapters for this different book, IA created a sample outline that I shared with students early on in the class.I But when I shared© it, I firmly stated that it was not to be used as a template. I wanted to give them security in terms of format, but I didn’t want to overguide them, or kill their creativity. What I wanted in the end, especially, were chapters that were voiced, meaning that the reader of each chapter could sense both the historical importance of the work but also get a sense of the personal stakes at hand through the chapter author’s interests, hopes, experiences, and ideas. I wanted students to write themselves into the book, not out of it. I wanted them to see themselves as conduits for ideas and images and possibilities, that is as “openings,” like windows, through which we might see more clearly ahead—or at least somehow differently—the educational possibilities of yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Over the course of the semester, our group discussions in seminar yielded so much value to me and to students, at least in my opinion. The xxxii T. S. POETTER frames we discussed for interpreting the books have yielded several directions/themes that you will see play out here and throughout the book. In particular, we discussed (1) the nature of the heurist “window,” and how it might be shaped for each individual’s chapter; (2) how the 1960s can be framed productively in educational, curricular, and pedagogical terms given that Pinar posits the death of the curriculum field in 1970 as a result of the “reconceptualization”; and (3) how critical it is to situate this text in the decade of the 1960s as a “window” to today, as we attempted to bring contemporary insight and meaning to these texts and ideas, now with us for nearly half a century. These three areas of conversation provide the substance for the remainder of this chapter by way of introduction.

The “Window” Metaphor

The word “window,” early 13th century, comes from the Old Norse “vin- dauga,” or literally “wind eye.” It replaced the Old English words “eagpyrl,”S literally “eye-hole” and “eagduru,” literally “eye-door.” FOriginally an unglazed hole in a roof, most Germanic languages adopted the Latin “fenes- tra” to describe the glass version and later in English Oused “fenester” as a parallel word until the late 16th century. (OnlineO Etymology Dictionary, 2012) The guiding metaphor of “window” for this project came to me literally in the presence of the beautifulR arched windows 3of my office in McGuffey Hall of Miami University’s main campus in Oxford, Ohio. This awakening—this “seeing”—happenedP simultaneously1 while in the presence of all of the books from Norm’s donated collection0 as it took over my office. But over the Pcourse of the semester2 I spent with students studying curriculum and these texts, we explored the dynamic metaphor of “window,” and surfacedA several ideas that we would like for you to carry with you throughI your reading. So, ©the impetus for the book may have been this “simple, insightful” seeing, but over the course of the project the work became more intellectual, and more practical; individuals brought to bear their own insights on life and the world and on the curriculum field as they studied a significant work from the 1960s, and as they participated in the seminar all together, then in small groups as the authors drafted and reworked their chapters. Therefore, I’d like to approach the metaphor of “window” with more detail, building a narrative-like scaffold- ing here for the project and hopefully getting at some of the key issues the class surfaced during the course. It’s important to recognize that the metaphor of “window” is familiar to us and seems almost natural in terms of its serviceability as a metaphor. Meaning, we have experiences in our own lives of gazing out or into windows (or passing through them), whether they be in homes or cars or else- Introduction xxxiii where. Sometimes these are typically present and pleasant memories and actions, tied often to the gift of free time or the opportunity to reflect, dream, ponder, and wonder. Krysmanski (2005) reminds us that metaphor—a figure of speech—grows out of our experiences with objects in the world and explains the unknown through the known. So “windows” had to be there before they could be used as metaphors. And literal windows are omnipresent, in our dwellings, works of architecture, the cinema, technology, as well as figuratively through literature, poetry, philosophy, religion, and the technology interfaces of present day computers. For me, for instance, the literal and figurative notions of “windows” resonate in a very positive way and have had a soothing, almost therapeu- tic impact on me, and represent, in almost every beat of my heart over 50 years, clarity, beauty, and hope. I remember as a child sitting on the radi- ator benches just under a picture window in our living room facing a busy street. The benches were decorative, with lattice on the sides to let out the heat, but the wooden tops never got too hot to sit on, even in theS dead of the frigid northern Ohio winters. I spent considerableF time sitting on those benches, that window seat, warming myself, and looking out of the window while taking a break from family action,O or from study, or when thinking about next steps for the day or trying to get a grip on life, or dealing with loss, or just taking time to Othink. Busy and beautiful, the scene outdoors changed with the seasons, with rainstorms and snow, and sunshine, and familiar faces and Rcharacters walking up3 and down the street. I watched from the inside as my father walked1 home from church across the street, he was the pastor,P at about 5 P0.M. each night. I waited for him many days. I can recall walking or riding my bike home from school or a ballgame now andP then, and seeing my2 sister waving and smiling out to me, beckoningA from inside. So the window worked both ways, calming and inspiringI from the inside, ©and we lcoming from the outside. And, I realized, I was not the only one who loved that window seat and its life altering powers of view. I also recall the windows of our very large 1972 Chevy Impala as I looked out of them on long western vacation road trips with my family. Squeezed between my brother and sister in the back seat for thousands of car miles before video games and movies in the car helped the current generation of children pass the time, I soldiered on by taking in the landscape through the side windows. Perhaps that’s why I dragged my own sons and wife out west in the car several years ago, in an attempt to show them the beauty of the great western outdoors I appreciated so much as a child myself. I remember saying during patches of boredom for them as the miles rolled by in the car, even beyond the reach of the technology in use, “Just look out the window. There’s something new to see every mile.” xxxiv T. S. POETTER

And on and on it goes, with the stained glass windows of my home church, especially the rose window behind the chancel (my father preached every Sunday of my youth in a large, impressive protestant sanctuary), majestic, beautiful, and luminous, playing an important role as I listened (or not) and meditated as a youth while surrounded by caring and loving adults and other children. Even broken windows of my youth turned out to yield life lessons, and grace, such as the time when I struck a baseball (a ter- rific line drive as I recall) through the large drive-up bay window of my neighbor friend’s insurance business and ran for my life. Of course, since we lived merely steps away and all of us were friends, it didn’t take long for his dad to find me and ask me how I intended to pay for it (my first early experience with the application of insurance, how apropos). He also said, “Tommy, it would have been much easier for me if you had just come in for your ball.” It’s the last time I ever ran from a broken window, both literally and figuratively. But the metaphor of window, grounded perhaps in the Scrucible of “real” life experiences outside the sheltered, inviting windows of my own childhood in the 1960s, isn’t always perceived or framed Fby others, necessarily, in such bucolic ways. In fact, while my experiences enrich me as a person, and make it possible for me to see, imagine,O create, and interpret my reality and new realities, sometimes simultaneously, in ways that I think are not oppressive, they may simultaneouslyO cloud my ability to see tragedy, suffering, and pain for others,R though I’ve had my3 share of such and saw it all unfold on TV and in real life as a child—assassinations, wars, the dead, family deaths,P disease, dysfunction,1 grieving, mental illness, violence, prejudice, racism, extreme social0 unrest. What couldn’t I not see or what did IP repress as I gazed out2 of those windows of my youth? What is it that I see now, or wish I had seen, or think I might have seen with differentA lenses, born of age, of experience, of context? And how do these imagesI of memory reconstruct© my self, my memory, and my current reality? How do I position myself as a child of privilege, who could look out of windows onto a street without fear of being shot at, or who had time to do so without the responsibilities of earning wages for the family or taking care of family members, soaking up the goods of free time and reflection when so many others my age as children and today as children rarely had or have a free moment to wonder? How enriched have I become at the expense of others as I soaked up the cultural capital afforded simply through the opportunity of looking? These are philosophical questions about experience, the kind that might be asked reflectively given time, and the conflation of context, culture, politics, economics, and experience, and the understanding of privilege as they all bear down on our current concepts of reality as we study the curriculum field and practice it, too. Ultimately, as a result of this Introduction xxxv deeper “seeing,” of course, it is possible that the window, psychologically, can act as a metaphor representing, alternately, the reality or feeling of being enclosed, shuttered, sheltered, hidden, in hiding, even imprisoned, whether there are bars across the panes or not (Crenshaw & Green, 2009). In the seminar we surfaced images, frames, ways of seeing, windows if you will, into the curriculum field as we were “reading” it, and through the course’s conversations and dialogues into our own self reflections (contributing to our accessing a Pinarian “currere” individually and together), and through insights about the 60s books in particular. One of the most telling and helpful metaphors that emerged was of “haunting windows.” Chapter author Rachel Radina revealed that while reading Schwab’s (1969) College Curriculum and Student Protest she felt that the ideas and images in it haunted her in the sense that she felt as though the field, through its reverence for and acceptance of Schwab, continued to privilege certain points of view, certain groups over others (faculty over students in the instance of Schwab’s work), especially those Sbuoyed by positional power and experience. How could it be that we still replicate Schwab’s patronizingF view of students in higher education, marginalizing them, controlling their democratic urges to resist tyranny, and squelching Otheir opportunities of expression and voice? It’s almost 50 years later and we either have ever- present structures in place that limit studentO voice or that even stamp it out so early that it cannot emerge whenR necessary! We routinely3 demonize resistance or protest in our institutional structures, even criminalizing civil disobedience when it is obviouslyP necessary and1 even when it is done in “law-abiding” ways. Worse yet, powerful alternatives0 of expression for students do not seem to have emerged, nor2 have more empowering roles and senses of agencyP among college students. How could curriculum have opened a windowA to change, and growth, instead of shuttering motivation and action Ithrough suppressive ©activities? This question haunts Rachel and all of us as we try to make sense of the seeming lack of progress on ideas and possibilities surfaced in the past and ignored over time. Why someone didn’t take on Schwab, and offer a different, more powerful curriculum of student protest for college students? And if they did, even unknowingly, why do the openings they crack for us not transform knowledge and practice? And if they attacked the same structures that Schwab’s students were prohibited from attacking, why did their voices and curriculum offerings not get heard, or read? Ultimately, why do we continue to oppress students and act like we aren’t oppressing them? Or worse, why is it that we cannot see that we do? This haunted and haunting window, of course, opens to the parallel universe of Sydney Walton as depicted in his revolutionary work The Black Curriculum, published in the same year as Schwab’s book but by a less xxxvi T. S. POETTER mainstream press. Walton bucked the system of White higher education in order to liberate opportunities for African American students in Oakland. He saw transparently through the structural barriers that white administrators threw up at every turn as he attempted to gain meaningful, just, and educationally defensible ends for Black students entering higher education for the first time in an attempt to make their way in a world that values postsecondary education but up to that point had not made it universally available to everyone. Chapter author Kyra Shahid asks us to take on Walton’s fierce, indomitable spirit by continuing to question and to take to task the structures that limit opportunity and even the ability to raise an alternative point of view, or a question. What Walton fought for, transparency and less structural control, lies in contrast to Schwab’s curriculum based on scripted roles and perceived merit. Will we struggle to shake the cobwebs off the haunting windows of prejudice, racism, and oppression, and perhaps see a different way forward based on mutual respect, care, openness, and love? Can Swe see the critical, curricular implications of the view of structural power and sup- pression as advocated by Schwab, and the revolutionary,F liberating, and voiced call to immediate action described by Walton? Can we see the amazing opportunity for reflection, theorizing, andO action that these two contrasting windows pose for us both yesterday and today? This tension, as one example from the course and the Otext, represents the energy and the potential of this work. Ultimately, it goes to the powerful3 forces at hand as we gaze, through openingsR at things we are at once interacting with—and shielded from—asP we make sense of our world,1 its peculiarities and idiosyncracies, as well as its enormous potentiality.0 Krysmanski (2005),P a contemporary German2 sociologist, explores the history of the windows metaphor in a short work titled, “Windows: A History of Metaphor,”A in which he sketches the development of the window metaphorI through architecture,© fine art, theater/cinema, literature, philosophy, religion, culture, science, and technology. Of particular note in his work are several concepts that may help as you read and interpret the chapters that follow. First is his recognition that the window as metaphor allows humans to use their powers of cognition, perception, intuition, and understanding to connect the seemingly mundane of everyday life with the literal and figurative essence of “light”; this interaction takes us out of our seemingly finite world and helps us connect or not with the infinite, the unknown. Second is the connection between (1) the literal rise of the window in use in dwellings as a passage for light before the nearly universal access to glass and (2) the subsequent development of early “windows” as “screens.” In the dark ages, glass was only available to the extremely wealthy, who could install the windows in frames of dwellings and look out over feudal Introduction xxxvii landscapes at their “holdings.” Before the mass production and afford- ability of glass, which came much later into the early 20th century, “screens” over windows were held in place by “frames,” and oftentimes painted and decorated, becoming works of art themselves even as they performed the function of blocking the elements that the window, as an opening, could not keep out (Krysmanski, 2005). Over time, screens became paintings, works of art in and of themselves, and paintings, for instance, served themselves as metaphorical windows, or screens, representing one reality for a reality in another dimension, simultaneously. Related is the architectural wonder of glass as art, in the case of stained glass windows, for instance, that became part of churches and other institutional structures across continents. Stained glass doesn’t so much let light enter or escape as it does reflect or absorb it, making the glass itself more luminous as opposed to lighting another venue. One’s eye is drawn to the glass of the window, and its beauty and/or the story it tells, and not to the inside or outside of the dwelling place (Krysmanski, 2005).S Stained glass windows do not so much admit or shield light, in soF much instead as they absorb and transform it. All of this connects with a third point, which isO that modern day windows—as they take shape and are framed in so many venues, even as complete walls of buildings, as mirrors Oin interrogation rooms, or as screens where multiple realities meetR through digital technology—con-3 tinue to act as powerful inspiration for metaphor, and representations of human possibility, growth,P progress, and even enslavement,1 while also opening up the potential for postmodern use 0and interpretation, that is in the sense that positionality,P identity, 2and perhaps even culture and ideology are subject to new frontiers given the transcending energy of emerging Iinterfaces,A or screens, or windows, if you will (Krysmanski, 2005). What might our journey© to locate ourselves within the complex worlds, interactions, and experiences of curriculum reveal to us as we seek, explore, open our eyes, shine the light, blaze new trails, recognize windows of opportunity? What might the process of looking back through time at past windows of meaning reveal to us as we deal with today and dream/act for tomorrow? How might the windows we open or develop serve the curriculum field in ways that lie beyond the “screens” that Tyler imagined, for instance, the ones that would serve to filter the value of objectives objectively for the classroom? And how might we acknowledge them, in truth instead, as subjective, value-laden, human, and experiential meanings/questions derived from normative interests at hand and our own lives, as opposed to some arbitrary, meaningless and indefinable truth that lies outside of us? (Kliebard, 1992) xxxviii T. S. POETTER

Curriculum Development is Dead: Pushing Forward, Zombie-Like? Our project began with the assumption that the curriculum books of the 1960s contained meaning, and contributed much at the time to the field and continue to be worth looking at today, for insights, for ways forward, for locating mistakes, for identifying key concepts that might inform us individually and otherwise. But this perspective does not hold up very well with Pinar et al.’s (2002) proclamation that the curriculum field as it was known then, and in particular as it was focused on curriculum development, was born in 1918 and died in 1969 with the contiguous birth of “curriculum understanding” as the prominent, new perspective and approach to the field (p. 6). This paradigm shift—embodied in the lives and work of curriculum reconceptualists, including Pinar himself—made our own book possible, in a way: our multivoiced perspectives on curriculum in theory and practice, in and outside of classrooms, resonates with a reading publicS for this type of material because of the breaking down of paradigmaticF barriers in the field more than 40 years ago. But still, the dates nagged at me, as the founderO of this project. If the field died in 1969, were not all of the books preceding 1970, by definition, trapped behind a dirty, darkened windowO of a haunting mausoleum, entombing a dead curriculum field? Could these curriculum books of the 1960s be resurrected legitimately, withoutR making all of us,3 and the texts themselves—regardless of our spirited, modern, postmodern,1 and cogent interpretations of them and theP entire project—appear zombie-like, float- ing around without grounding in anything resembling0 the modern/postmodern field, basedP on old and rather nongermane,2 perhaps even expired ideas, that is, in effect, though muddling around alive in the cognitive atmosphere,I theyA actually and merely© are dead in and of themselves? Thankfully, while these questions tortured me from beginning to end and still do to a degree, Pinar et al. (2002) gave us some relief in his analysis of the 1960s in the edited volume Understanding Curriculum, the tome we read and sampled as a class, noting the significant contributions, of course, that transformational curriculum scholars in the 1960s and before that made in terms of laying the groundwork for change in the field, noting in particular the work done by Macdonald, Huebner, Kliebard, Eisner, Greene, Berman, and Klohr in their usually quiet opposition to

behaviorism, scientism (a reduction of forms of knowing to quantifiable ones), dehumanizing technology, and oppressive, alienating bureaucratization of the schools. These curricularists first attacked behavioral objectives, then bureaucratization, the disciplines-centered orientation, and quantified, standardized evaluation and measurement of learning (Huber, 1981). The Introduction xxxix

challenge—largely uncoordinated—represented the first stage of the Reconceptualization, as the traditional field, for a few, became static and limiting. (p. 184)

Pinar et al. (2002) goes on to cite others, including Holt, Kohl, and Neill as part of the movement challenging the traditional paradigm of the field. Interpretations of their work—along with attempts at interpreting Eisner and Berman—appear in this book, right alongside chapters about others who might have been and still might be considered wed to the “curriculum development” paradigm during their careers. Of course, it is a fact that curriculum development didn’t die in 1970, and that it continues to live on in multiple manifestations within official bodies of the curriculum field such as AERA, ASCD, and various other conferences, and also as a force in “school deform” movements of the day including the hyper-controlling phenomena and realities of high stakes testing, standardized curriculum (the Common Core movement and textbooks/ canned programs), and programmed instruction/pedagogy (Pinar,S 2012). So, curriculum development is dead, but it’s not, it’s alive!F And the books that set the table for the reconceptualization came during a decade dominated by curriculum development, simultaneouslyO transcending the powerful shackles of the existing field’s ideological and practical dominance. Dead or alive, dead or alive—Sounds like Ozombie-land to me! But, I suppose as I grow, I become more comfortable with3 the anoma- lies of the curriculum field and the Rdifficulties with any attempt to play in it, taking the tensions and Pthe misshapen categories1 in stride, seeing them not as impediments, but instead as openings,0 screens, windows for new ways of thinking or of approaching a subject, or at least not making the mistake of thinkingP something is new,2 like an idea, when it really isn’t, when in someone’sA reality it is grounded historically in ideas and practices from a fertile,I long ago decade.© Perhaps for me this is the heart of the matter, that exploring joyfully and attentively the interplay of ideas, figures, books, and movements of the curriculum field that may or may not lead to new insights and possibilities is the best way forward for me, and the one I ask my students to take on periodically for projects such as this one. One can only give it a try; maybe a new way of thinking, or new barriers, will erupt and transform, and contribute to the curriculum field as we continually know it anew. This still leaves open the problem of dealing with works by Mager and Taba, for instance, among others here who perhaps fall out of the realm of contributing to the reconceptualization of the field or at least resisting the dominant paradigm of curriculum development. Mager’s work is on behavorial objectives and Taba’s book is titled Curriculum Development, so there is no way around the tension, which has to be confronted head on. xl T. S. POETTER

Taking on these works posed opportunities and challenges to the chapter authors. On the one hand, it’s easy to bash the works as outdated and unhelpful, but that doesn’t recognize the complex realities of when they were written and what their purposes were. So this process sometimes requires careful coaching, hoping that the authors will be true to themselves and what they think while also taking into account how complex the project of reading historical curriculum texts can be. Also, I left things open for writers to be supportive of aspects of these works, since it is intellectually possible and even responsible to be supportive of ideas and practices that may find their definitional location outside the mainstream understandings and even fringy discussions constituting today’s field. What all of this means is that we found the conflict presented by Pinar, that the field is dead, but alive, though it was enlivened by those with a foot in the dead era, to be perplexing and liberating. There’s really no way around the conundrum except to play in it, and take it on for what it is, that is an opportunity for inquiry and the playful entanglementS with conflict. Sounds a lot to me like zombie-land, dead, but alive, but still dead, and so forth, in an endless, interesting regress. WhatF we ultimately hope is that your reading of our work here will ground you in the historical, theoretical, and practical questions and implicationsO of the past, while also offering a contemporary, hopeful, honest interpretation of what it all means and what might be possible as a resultO of engaging these complex people, ideas, books, theories,P and Rpractices. 13 The Context of theP 1960s 20 And, so finally by way of introduction, it’s important to locate our work on the curriculumA books for study here within the historical context of the 60s, while Iadmitting that our perspectives© are mainly grounded in the worlds of the millennial transition decades, the 1990s through the early 2010s. I asked the authors to spend little time trying to describe the 1960s, in general, in their own chapters, that is to not spend much space rehashing what might have already been said about the 60s in other chapters, or in this chapter, or in Schubert’s book. I thought that would be overkill, at best repetitive for the reader. Besides, Schubert et al. (2002) provide “Contextual Reminders,” essentially overviews at the start of each chapter that are extremely serviceable regarding each decade’s cultural, historical, intellectual, economic, and political events in an attempt to frame the reasons for the books, the ideas, the scholarship, the teaching, and the educational practices of the day, in general. These curriculum bits are helpful and accessible and can be looked at by the reader before or while reading here. So here, instead of trying to blaze new trails on the Introduction xli history of the 1960s, I wish to draw on the main themes that guided our work in the seminar and that were manifest in the discussions and interpretations in the proceeding chapters about the 1960s curriculum books. First, it has to be said, though it’s rather a cliché now, that the decade was marked by social, cultural, political, and economic upheaval. The norms and standards of the 1950s were challenged and transformed throughout the 1960s. Just a few of the authors and participants in our seminar lived any part of their lives in the 1960s. I was born at the end of 1962, and consider the decade a time of growing up, thinking instead of the 70s as my decade of coming of age on my own journey through the teen years and high school. It’s important to note, though, as we did in class, that while some of us were alive in this world, even at our earliest ages, racial segregation existed legally in the United States. Our parents may have stayed at segregated hotels, sat at segregated lunch counters, rode segregated buses, or used segregated public accommodations such as restrooms and water fountains. While we have come a longS way in terms of social justice in this country, our lives still touch extreme injustice, just as they do in pockets of today’s postmodern society.F The Civil Rights Act of 1964 marks a critical historical marker, sure to be debated, supported, and criticized by all, but surely also toO stand forever as a landmark turning point for citizens in this nation given all of the windows it has opened and closed in so many ways overO the intervening decades. Also, the build up to war in VietnamR and the resulting3 heightening of the cold war, with the Bay of Pigs and Cuban Missile Crises early in the decade and the continuing fightP against communism1 in lands far away, all played a significant role in the politics, economy,0 and cultural heritages of the 1960s. At any moment,P in ways far more2 insidious and dangerous than citizens were led to believe and even were trained for in the 1940s and 1950s, nuclearA annihilation had become a real possibility on top of ground warI combat that claimed© the lives of soldiers and innocent civil- ians alike worldwide but particularly in the Far East and here at home in ways marked by domestic violence, mental illness, and death (see for instance The Deer Hunter), the perilous vestiges of a continuous cold war. On the education front, the Elementary and Secondary Education Act of 1965 set new standards for federal involvement in education and for expectations for educating every child in the United States at least through high school as a norm. The law’s implications short and long term have long been studied, and we still engage with the re-appropriation of the act given the political climate around education in society each decade, the last being the No Child Left Behind debacle of 2001 and the subsequent damage done by the standardization and high stakes testing movements (Bracey, 2009). We also understand from the literature and from the input of Schubert himself (personal communication) that the xlii T. S. POETTER federal curriculum projects undertaken Post-Woods Hole Conference (by Bruner et al., for instance PSSC and MACOS) marked the practical and symbolic end of school people holding the power in terms of curricular and pedagogical decision making for education on a local level. While teachers still acted and continue to act as the great arbiters of the curriculum on the ground in schools in many instances (Eisner, 2001), the rules, regulations, mandates, and directives from above, hierarchically, play an increasingly prominent role in terms of the curriculum, determining what does and does not get taught and how teachers spend their time. It’s a fact that teachers spend less time developing and understanding curriculum today than they did in the 1960s. Perhaps typical of any decade, at least educationally, there were tremendous ironies. For instance, given this push toward greater outside control, schools and teachers pushed back by developing progressive approaches to education, including open classrooms, alternative schools, and free schools, for instance. Many of the renewing approachesS were created and implemented by teachers. The decade of the 1960s, after all, was also a period of experimentation, new values, openness,F and hope; the embodiment of progressive ideas, at least humanistic ones, that privileged the life of the child and his or her development inO the context of the community and that pushed what is best for growing a morally defensible, empowering democracy ruled in some places,O at least in pockets of experience and on the continuum of theR local/national narratives.3 This was the decade of challenging the morality of the system in terms of the quality of education made available toP marginalized citizens (see1 Kozol, Holt, and Herndon, for example) while at the same time 0creating new opportunities for self-exploration Pand personal growth (see2 Neill, for example). Also, it would be an error not to mention how the decade of the 1960s embodied theA rapid ramping up of technology, as it manifest itself con- ventionallyI in military prowess© on ground, sea, and air and through advanced nuclear capability, as well as the rise, literally, of the space program, culminating in Armstrong and Aldrin’s walks on the moon in 1969. The development of the computer, advanced industrialization processes for the assembly and marketing of goods, and the advances in agriculture, among others, created whole new ways of consuming and exploiting for the American people and for people around the world. While classrooms have remained much the same since 1960 in many ways (see Jackson’s Life in Classrooms, for example), they have also been radically transformed by technology. In 1969, I assembled with my classmates in the dark base- ment room of my elementary school to watch filmstrips of the fictional first Thanksgiving, treated as fact. Students today watch women soaring through space and talk with them about their science experiments in real time, and Skype with students in Russian high schools. Technology has Introduction xliii had a profound impact on what might be possible for 21st century learners, and many of these developments and understandings have their roots in 1960s technologies and experiences. Last, the rapid changes in social and cultural norms, religious participation and understanding, and the industrialization and Westernization of the world in the 1960s, mirror the rapid pace of change in 2013. I don’t have a crystal ball so can’t predict the future, except to say that the decades since the 1960s have provided plenty of change, bringing movements to commerce, politics, and education at breakneck speed. One approach is to slow down and study the trends, take stock of early attempts, and learn from the past. We attempt to do that with you in the following chapters. It so happens that our vantage point for today, the window through which we will venture to look, is through the lenses of curriculum scholars, teachers, and writers of the 1960s. I hope you enjoy the look back as much as we have and learn as much as we have along the way as well. Our futures, perhaps, depend on it. FS ACKNOWLEDGMENTSO *Starred titles in the References are works that chapter authors examine in this book. O **Special thanks to Leigh Ann Fish, chapter author (she3 read Berman) and course participant, who took Rexcellent notes during the class and whose extra research work onP the window metaphor1 during the course aided in the writingP of this chapter. 20 IA REFERENCES© *Berman, L. (1968). New priorities in the curriculum. Columbus, OH: Merrill. Bobbitt, F. (1924). How to make a curriculum. Boston, MA: Houghton Mifflin. Bracey, G. (2009). Education hell: Rhetoric vs. reality. Alexandria, VA: Educational Research Service. *Bruner, J. (1960). The process of education. New York, NY: Vintage Books. *Bruner, J. (1966). Toward a theory of instruction. New York, NY: W.W. Norton. Crenshaw, D., & Green, E. (2009). The symbolism of windows and doors in play therapy. Play Therapy, retrieved from www.a4pt.org Dewey, J. (1916). Democracy and education. New York, NY: Macmillan. *DuBois, W. E. B. (1957-1961). Manzart Builds a School. Vol. 2 of the Black Flame; A Trilogy, including The Ordeal (Vol. 1) and Worlds of Color (Vol. 3). New York, MY: Mainstream. Eisner, E. (2001). The Educational Imagination: On the Design and Evaluation of School Programs (3rd edition). New York, NY: Prentice Hall. xliv T. S. POETTER

*Goodlad, J. (1966). School, curriculum, and the individual. Waltham, MA: Blaisdell. *Goodlad, J., & Associates. (1979). Curriculum inquiry: The study of curriculum practice. New York, NY: McGraw-Hill. *Herndon, J. (1969). The way it spozed to be. New York, NY: Bantam. *Holt, J. (1964). How children fail. New York, NY: Dell. *Jackson, P. (1968). Life in classrooms. New York, NY: Holt, Rinehart, and Winston. Kliebard, H. (1992). The Tyler rationale. In H. M. Kliebard’s (Ed.), Forging the American curriculum: Essays in curriculum theory and history (pp. 153-167). New York, NY: Routledge. *Kohl, H. (1968). 36 Children. New York, NY: Penguin. *Kozol, J. (1967). Death at an early age. New York, NY: Houghton Mifflin. Krysmanski, H. J. (2005). Windows: Exploring the history of metaphor. Retrieved from http://www.uni-muenster.de/EuropeanPopularScience/win-sample/win- authors.htm *Mager, R. (1962). Preparing instructional objectives. Belmont, CA: Fearon. *Neill, A. S. (1960). Summerhill: A radical approach to child rearing. New York, NY: Hart. *Phenix, P. (1961). Education and the common good: A moral philosophy ofS the curriculum. New York, NY: Harper & Brothers. F Pinar, W. (2012). What is curriculum theory? New York, NY: Peter Lang. Pinar, W., Reynolds, W., Slattery, P., & Taubman, P. (2002). Understanding curriculum: An introduction to the study of historical and contemporaryO curriculum discourses. New York, NY: Peter Lang. Poetter, T. (2010). Taking the leap, mentoringO doctoral students as scholars: A great and fruitful morass. Teaching & Learning: The Journal3 of Natural Inquiry & Reflective Practice, 24(1), 22-29. R Poetter, T. S., & Associates. (2011). 10 great curricula: Lived1 conversations of progressive, democratic curriculum inP school and society. Charlotte, NC: Information Age Publishing. 0 Poetter, T., Bird, J., & PGoodney, T. (Eds.). (2004).2 Critical perspectives on the curriculum of teacher education. Lanham, MD: University Press of America. Poetter, T., Wegwert,A J., & Haerr, C. (Eds.). (2006). No Child Left Behind and the illusion of reform:I Critical essays by© educators . Lanham, MD: University Press of America. *Popham, J., Eisner, E., Sullivan, H., & Tyler, L. (1969). Instructional objectives. AERA Monograph Series on Curriculum Evaluation. Chicago, IL: Rand McNally. *Postman, N., & Weingartner, C. (1969). Teaching as a Subversive Activity. New York, NY: Dell. Schubert, W. (1980). Curriculum books: The first 80 years. Lanham, MD: University Press of America. Schubert, W, & Lopez, A., Thomas, T., & Carroll, W. (2002). Curriculum books: The first hundred years (2nd ed.). New York, NY: Routledge. *Schwab, J. (1969). College curriculum and student protest. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press. Stratemeyer, F., Forkner, H., & McKim, M. (1947). Developing a curriculum for modern living. New York, NY: Teachers College Publications. Introduction xlv

*Taba, H. (1962). Curriculum development: Theory and practice. New York, NY: Har- court, Brace & World. *Tanner, D., & Tanner, L. (1975). Curriculum development: Theory into practice. New York, NY: Macmillan. *Walton, S. (1969). Black curriculum: Developing a program in Afro-American studies. Oakland, CA: Black Liberation Publishers. Zais, R. (1976). Curriculum: Principles and foundations. New York, NY: Thomas Crowell.

FS OO PR 13 P 20 IA ©

CHAPTER 1

THE POWER OF REVOLUTIONARY THOUGHT

Waging Curriculum Warfare on S the Racial Injustices in AcademiaOF K. T. COLLIER Kyra T.R CollierO 3 INTRODUCTIONP 01 Close your eyes and imagine that you are peering through a window and seeing people movingP about in every direction.2 Imagine that those people, of all differentA races and creeds, are busy working, loving, learning, smiling, laughing,I and growing.© As you continue to glance, you realize that these people are looking back at you. However, what they see on the other side of your window is not the real you; it’s a distorted perception caused by stains and cracks in your window that were put there by someone else. Although you can see yourself clearly, others cannot see the real you nor do they realize that their perceptions are psychological appari- tions. Your earnest and persistent desire is to experience the world the way you see others doing it. Therefore, you set out to construct a new window; one that has not been psychologically cracked by the hatred and fears of others. You want this

Curriculum Windows: What Curriculum Theorists of the 1960s Can Teach Us About Schools and Society Today, pp. 1–15 Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved. 1 2 K. T. COLLIER window to protect you while providing the transparency necessary for you to see others and them to see you as you truly are. Right now you are imagining this window, but many Black students in the 1960s gazed through the actual windows of their classrooms with such desires and intentions. While historical discourses on curriculum inaccurately represented Black students or omitted them altogether, Black students, scholars, and activists began constructing and demanding a new curriculum window. Such constructions can be examined through the work of Sidney Walton Jr. (1969) in The Black Curriculum. I examine Walton’s (1969) text as a curriculum window in order to illustrate its ability to help us look to the past to better understand the present and future. My approach is inspired by a term from the Akan language of Ghana; sankofa, which articulates the importance of taking from the past what is good and bringing it into the present so that through the benevo- lent use of knowledge, progress can be made. Here I will use Walton’s work as a sankofa narrative to help us look back and retrieve thatS which we have forgotten about curriculum theory. It is my belief that the conditions that provoked Walton’s concern throughout the 1960s Fand beyond still remain in America’s classrooms and educational institutions. Recent protests on behalf of American teachers and the portrayalsO of public schooling in the media warrant our attention to the cracks in the system. Thus, I write this chapter with the understandingO that windows were created in order to admit light and allow peopleR to see out of enclosed3 structures. Windows are a means for observing and learning about a space outside of one’s realm. In this country,P some people have the1 privilege of looking out of windows and seeing a world of possibility.0 Others have not been given this “window of opportunity” but instead2 have been placed behind a different kind of window—aP window tainted with preconceived distortions of the image Aand vision of who they are and what they are capable of doing and Ibecoming. The work© of Sidney Walton in The Black Curriculum aims to correct and repair these distorted windows. Through my analysis of Walton’s book and the contemporary issues at hand, I hope the reader will see the life-changing direction in which this work can lead us.

Connections to My Intellectual Journey

A major focus of my work as a graduate student in educational leadership is to explore the connections among race, spirituality, leadership, and education. As a spiritually salient African American woman, I choose to situate my research and scholarship as an autobiographical study of the influences of my lived experiences on the research and scholarship about African American students. My interest in the psychosocial influences on The Power of Revolutionary Thought 3 the success of African Americans in schools was sparked by an experience in high school in which I was told by a Black educator that to be successful, a Black intellectual had to be educated in and by a White institution. When Dr. Poetter offered The Black Curriculum as an option for creating a new curriculum window, I quickly jumped at the opportunity because I believed that such an interrogation could reveal the psychological injuries that cause some Black educators to believe that intellectualism can only be achieved in the White academy. Moreover, such inquiry could identify the distortions that cause many Black students to see intellectualism as Whiteness as pointed out in studies by John Ogbu (2008) and Signithia Fordham (1996). Additionally, Walton’s work gives witness to an account of a Black educator in White academia that mainstream scholarship has not acknowledged. When I came across his text, I wondered why this powerful literary work is not widely cited or used in the educational studies programs that I have been privy to. Needless to say, this curiosity has led me towards a path of intellectual self-actualization that not onlyS helps me to better understand curriculum theory, but to realize my purpose and power as an educator in a greater sense of the word. F Early in the text Walton (1969) writes, “Creativity frustrated breeds violence: thus violence may be unavoidable as longO as our racist oppressors feel that they are ‘being pushed too hard’ or that change is coming too fast” (p. 3). His work is only one exampleO of Black intellectual creativity. As I assert my thinking alongsideR his, I acknowledge3 the intellectual warfare that such creativity engages in and make no apologies for the pro- vocative standpoint from whichP I present my ideas. 1It is my opinion that the distortions in the Black curriculum window0 have existed for far too long. As we make connections between the2 1960s and today’s classrooms and educational institutions,P I hope it becomes apparent that the call for significant changesA in our school systems cannot be ignored, avoided, or delayed anyI longer. ©

The Climate of the 1960s and the Aim of The Black Curriculum

When I first opened The Black Curriculum I was immediately taken by the picture of the author kneeling on a stack of books while armed with guns and knives. The image of a Black man being armed not just physically—but intellectually—is not well received in White academia or popular in mainstream media. I thought to myself, “I wonder how many curriculum theorists and educators have seen this image and became intimidated?” In my tenure as a graduate student, I have found it rare to see such images or written approaches in publications where the author 4 K. T. COLLIER feels no obligation to mute the political agenda of his or her writing. Moreover, I had rarely seen any image encouraging the use of physical and intellectual “weaponry” simultaneously for the Black male. Much is written on the perceptions of Black males in schools and the portrayal of Black males in the media as brutes and emotionless persons with no regard for self or desire for education. This comes from the legacy of slavery. Fear of Black men and a deep desire to keep them in submission to the dominant race, as Frances Cress Welsing (1991) would argue, deeply permeates racism in America. As a result, it is no stretch to think that Wal- ton’s image may have immediately sparked panic in mainstream academia. Wesling’s arguments in her 1991 text The Isis Papers: The Keys to the Colors, help explain from a psychological standpoint how this fear led many opponents of Black Power to believe that the very existence of Black Power meant White annihilation. Welsing carefully explains and gives examples of how any potential for assertive challenge on part of the Black male raises conscious and unconscious fear on part of the dominantS culture. Looking at the image of Sidney Walton armed with various books and guns, I reflected on the ways the media broadcastedF images of the physical responses to assertions of Black power in the 1960s. As my mind filled with images of water hoses being sprayed onO Black protestors, dogs attacking men in the streets, and police forcefully arresting people with afros and t-shirts displaying Black Power fists,O I thought about the lack of images detailing ways in which the Black mind was being forced into submission in the classroom. IntellectualR warfare, I believe, 3was at the heart of the Black Power movement.P However, because1 education and the media are two of the most powerful mediums for0 information, the misap- propriation of Black Power as a call for White annihilation in both education and the mediaP further distorts Walton’s2 image and the aim of his work.James ConeA carefully articulates the true meaning of Black Power by stating: I © It means nothing other than full emancipation of Black people from White oppression by whatever means Black people deem necessary. The methods may include selective buying, boycotting, marching, or even rebellion. Black Power, therefore, means Black freedom, Black self-determination, wherein Black people no longer view themselves as animals devoid of human dignity but as men, human beings with the ability to carve out their own destiny. (Cone, 1999, p. 4)

Walton’s (1969) work is an exercise of Black Power on and against the educational system of America. Realizing this helped me to understand why I had a very difficult time locating the book, as there was only one copy available in the public university library system of Ohio and none available at local bookstores and online commerce companies. When I The Power of Revolutionary Thought 5 finally got my hands on a used copy, I stared at the image of Walton and thought about the different narratives that White America and Black America would tell me about this image. During the time Walton’s (1969) was published, the Black community was waging war against the oppression of White America through various protests and demonstrations. The 1960s was a time when Black rage and White racism were colliding in the streets, classrooms, and courtrooms. All around the country, people were fighting and dying for civil rights. It was a time of emerging identity for the Black community and musical leg- ends like Public Enemy were setting the soundtracks for a decade of Black liberation. Two years prior to the release of Walton’s book, Stokely Carmi- chael and Charles Hamilton, two prominent Black activists, published Black Power: The Politics of Liberation in America (1967). This book inti- mately detailed the depths of systemic racism and presented a radical, revolutionary political framework for establishing a new social order in America. Walton offered The Black Curriculum as an extension toS this work so that education could be considered equally among the Fefforts to reform political, economic, and social injustices. His goal was to incite change in society by offering a “revolutionary proposal” for endingO the perpetuation of racism in American schools (Walton, 1969). As I mentioned earlier, physical assaults against assertions of BlackO Power were more widely recognized than the intellectual pummeling that was taking place in the classrooms. By establishing Black curriculaR in America, 3Walton believed that Black educators could empower Black youth to1 change the educational, political, economical, P and social plights0 of their community.His text is a blueprint for creating such changes because it gives a detailed account of Walton’s effortsP to establish a Black2 curriculum at a large urban community collegeA in California. ThroughoutI the chapters, Walton© includes copies of actual communications with university officials in order to demonstrate the true nature of racism in school structures and his experiences in attempting to overcome them. In a very thought provoking way, Walton discusses the role of semantics in perpetuating racism as well as the roles of Black and White educators in putting an end to racism in schools. He uses his experiences with the creation of an Afro-American studies program at Merritt College, a large urban community college in Oakland, to discuss the recruitment of Black teachers, how to develop relevant course content at all levels of education, and how to counsel Black students and uplift the Black community. In the course of 537 pages, Walton makes numerous critical arguments that I believe are still relevant today. I have chosen to analyze these arguments using a metaphorical window that has four distinctive panes that shed new light on curriculum as we know it today. 6 K. T. COLLIER

REPANELING THE WINDOW

Like most Black activists of the 1960s, Sidney Walton wanted to use the history and struggle of Black people in America to push this country toward a new level of humanity. He believed that the “intelligent, imaginative men must not shrink from exploring fearlessly any avenue which might lead mankind to this new world community” (Walton, 1969, p. 23). In this process of unification, Walton believed that a complete paradigmatic shift was nonnegotiable. If we return to the introduction of this chapter and consider the creation of a new window, we can see Walton’s arguments through four windowpanes. In this new window, one pane can be described as the bulletproof glass pane. It serves the purposes of protecting the Black intellectual from the proverbial bullets discharged by systemic weapons of Black destruction. The second pane is a two-way mirrored glass that equips the Black intellectual to see and understand the system in which they Smust fight in and against simultaneously. The third pane that Walton creates for us is a tinted glass pane. This pane is for the protection of Fperception, as it keeps Black intellectuals from being blinded by glimmers of hope in a system that will ultimately continue to oppress them.O Last, Walton’s work offers a stained-glass windowpane. The stained glass serves multiple purposes in the fight for a new level of humanism.O It evokes a spiritual creativity that gives way to the Rnew world community3 that Walton believes this country must create in order for citizens to survive and thrive. Together, these four Ppanes form a new curriculum1 window that gives us sankofa; the spiritual, personal, and systematic0 power to use the knowledge fromA ourP past experiences to “fight2 the powers that be.” Blocking WeaponsI of Black ©Destruction: A Bulletproof Pane In order to truly understand Walton’s arguments, we must recognize that there is a Eurocentric curriculum that is perpetuating White supremacist pedagogy. At the same time, however, there is White supremacist pedagogy informing and supporting Eurocentric curriculum. Therefore, what Black intellectuals and supporters of Black education are up against is not only a curriculum problem, or a pedagogical problem. It is a systemic problem that feeds off of and permeates all areas of human activity, especially education. Haroon Kharem (2006) argues that “White supremacist rhetoric employs a ‘poisonous pedagogy’ (Macedo, 1994, p. 66) clearly promoting an idea of Black inferiority” (p. 26). The myth of Black intellectual inferiority therefore trickles down into the textbooks and assignments, into the teacher’s choice for student of the month, and the The Power of Revolutionary Thought 7 university’s admissions results among other decisions. The null and hidden curricula of mainstream public education send Black students—and other minoritized students’—subliminal and not so subliminal messages that they are intellectually and socially inferior to their White counterparts. These attacks on the Black mind brainwash students and paralyze their growth. Walton took notice of this in California and set out to free the Black minds of his students. He was not alone in his efforts. Kharem quotes Malcom X who said in June of 1964:

When we send our children to school, they learn nothing about us other than we used to be cotton pickers. Why your grandfather was Nat Turner, your grandfather was Toussaint L-Ouverture, your grandfather was Hanni- bal. It was your grandfather’s hands who forged civilization and it was your grandfather’s hands who rocked the cradle of civilization. But the textbooks tell your children nothing. (p. 23) The exclusion of knowledge in textbooks that Malcolm X isS referring to causes great harm to the Black community, and to the larger Ameri- can community through a continual denial of its completeF history. Black educators like Walton took notice of how “This exclusion of knowledge purges textbook writers of wrong doing, eradicatesO cultural differences within society and reshapes it around a Ocommon culture that is Anglo Protestant” (Kharem, 2006, p. 26). It was for these reasons that Sidney Walton (1969) argued that “We mustR change the system3 to serve us or we must destroy it in a revolutionary manner so that it does not further our oppression” (p. 52). WaltonP described some1 of the techniques involved in the destruction of Black intellectualism.0 Semantics, he argued, is a main Ptool employed to reject2 Black definition and deny Black reality. Through semantics, Whites have controlled the unconscious attitudesA and symbols that Blacks use towards one another. Wal- ton offers Ithe term “Negro” and© the historical naming of the Negro/ Black/Afro-American/African American race as an exemplar of linguistically perpetuated racism. The meanings that have been attributed to the word “Black” have been such negative connotations that the Black community has had to take a very active role in redefining itself. As a student I can recall numerous occasions where I have been asked to explain how I chose to identify myself and why I use “Black” or “African Ameri- can” to describe my race. I can also recall various campaigns to reclaim Black as beautiful in the media. My personal understanding has been couched in a sense of double consciousness that recognizes the beauty that I see as well as the lack of beauty that society promotes for those considered Black. Since the messages in our classrooms and in the media are often contradictory to notions of Black beauty, many Black students like myself have employed linguistic decoys that help protect 8 K. T. COLLIER our own sense of meaning making.This concept is commonly known as code switching and it has served to protect Black thought and definition by concealing what James C. Scott (1990) calls “the hidden tran- script” in plain sight of mainstream America. Without such protective strategies, the ability to “think Black” would be assassinated by the fear of Black Power and the perpetuation of racism. This is why Walton calls for the inclusion of more Black authors in textbooks and for the establishment of a meaningful connection and involvement with the Black community. He recognizes that the mindsets of educators are anything but “objective” and thus there has to be more inclusion of those who have the ability to “think Black” in the classroom. There are very few, if any, teachers or professors who believe (in the 1960s and time present) that they are teaching racism in their classrooms. Many educators believe that it is possible to be neutral in the classroom, and that the curriculum is a neutral component of schooling. However, once one recognizes that racism is operating underS the guise of semantically constructed terms like “objective education,” one can clearly see the tools for destroying the Black psyche. Walton’sF work informs us that to combat such destruction, Black intellectuals must arm themselves with a bulletproof pane. In 1969, it was virtually Oimpossible to avoid the attacks launched in the classroom through the inclusion and exclusion of certain accounts of history, the design ofO culturally-biased standardized tests, that absence of Black teachersR and professors in the3 classroom, and the privileging of European ways of learning over African-centered learning techniques. As WaltonP walks us through his1 journey at Merritt College, which ultimately became the first junior0 college in America to offer the Associates inP Arts degree in Afro-American2 studies, he exposes the ways in which such attacks were waged on Black students. In letters concerning theA development of relevant course content at the undergraduateI and secondary level,© Walton explains that the success of any Afro-American studies curriculum is largely influenced by that program’s ability to be established within its own department and not as an integrated component to existing departments. This is because of the institutional racism that exists in many traditional departments that have age-old practices harmful to Black centered education. One such practice is the tenure process and its ability to deem many Black educators insufficient because they don’t hold the kinds of credentials that academia uses to signify merit. Another example is the establishment of “classic” texts to be used in the classroom and the overwhelming absence of authors of color from these book lists. Such practices inherently show students who is considered “educated” and what is to be thought of as legitimate and classic writing. Walton shares various memos where he debunks the myth of “objective education” and reveals what Tom Burrell (2010) refers to in his The Power of Revolutionary Thought 9 book Brainwashed: Challenging the Myth of Black Inferiority as being part of “the greatest propaganda campaign of all times.” Although Sidney Walton was successful in establishing an Afro-American studies program, it is troubling that this struggle still continues today. It is as if educators have not been able to build upon the foundation that Walton and many other leaders within the Black community established. In 2010, Neil Irvin Painter (2010) wrote, “What we can see depends heavily on what our culture has trained us to look for” (p.16). She outlines why and how race and the history of race has been distorted and propagandized. Her work helps us to see how Walton’s proposal calls for a process of un- learning. Without careful consideration and the use of a protective shield, this propaganda flourishes. Walton’s insights help provide that protective shield, the bulletproof pane in the window that psychologically shields us from systemic weapons of Black destruction. This window pane is necessary prior to the start of higher education or any formal education. According to Walton (1969), Black intellectuals “must change their expectationsS of the present system before they seek an education in that Fsystem” (p. 99, emphasis in orginal). By doing so, students prepare themselves for the onslaught of proverbial bullets that the systemO will intentionally and unintentionally aim to hinder their development. Without this knowledge, students bear the risk of being intellectuallyO assassinated or at the very least held hostage by White ideology for Rthe rest of their lives.13 LEARNING P WHILE BLACK: THE IMPERATIVEP USE OF THE 2TINTED0 GLASS PANE While being preparedA for the challenges and negative resistance of the existing educationI system, Black© intellect uals have to also be prepared for “positive” resistance. This kind of resistance is very hard to detect because it appears that the system and perpetuators of the system are in support of the creation of Black education. Walton (1969) refers to this as “tricknology” (p. 51). This is most evident through the process of credentialing. Walton explains that the system protects itself by protecting standards, degrees, and credentials that are supposedly “meritocratic” and help to maintain the White welfare system. In strategic ways, the system can adopt a more culturally centered curriculum. However, White power structures prevent the teaching of that curriculum from a cultural perspective on the grounds that a Black professor, for example, does not hold the “proper credentials” that reflect the standards of the university. Thus, only someone who has obtained a degree from a university with a Eurocentric ideology is fit to teach a curriculum that challenges that 10 K. T. COLLIER ideology. Herein lies what Harold Cruse (1967) called “The crisis of the Negro intellectual.” To be considered intellectual, one had to attend the university and obtain a degree. Without the presence of the bulletproof pane, it is quite possible that that person suffered ideological and epistemological trauma that hin- dered his or her ability to effect change for his or her community. Sidney Walton informs us that in the 1960s, the Black community was well aware of the ways in which the accumulation of higher degrees could render a person irrelevant to the larger community and almost unknowledgeable of any sense of Black awareness. The system had a way of educating Blacks “out” of their community and tokenizing them in spaces where they were no longer a threat to the system’s existence. On the surface, accumulating higher degrees and better jobs seem like successful steps towards liberation. How- ever, careful consideration would allow one to see that while universities were willing to establish Black studies programs, they would not establish departments of Black studies where, as Walton points out, a studentS could study chemistry from a Black perspective or engineering from a Black perspective. Black studies mostly became minor programs Fhoused in larger departments of White ideology. Walton (1969) writes:O The Black masses are aware of the usual process whereby a so-called Negro is selected by the establishment, made prominent,O built-up, publicized, and made a celebrity…. The establishment uses these “Negro Leaders”3 against the Black revolution. (p. 472)PR 1 With the protection of a tinted pane, Black 0intellectuals could remove the alluring glare of “moving on up” from the propositions offered by the current system. TheP lesson we take from 2Walton’s work in this respect is that although,A at times, it may seem that the current system is willing to “diversify” Iits curriculum and engage© notions of becoming culturally competent in the classroom, this system has not been designed to cultivate and support the successful growth of the Black intellectual. Tinted glass helps to keep these gleams of improvement in perspective. This is very important, as we have seen throughout the decades how success on the part of Black Americans has subdued the revolution towards full emancipation. Many might argue that the success of Brown v. The Board of Educa- tion in 1954 is a prime example of such seduction.

REFLECTIVE, PROTECTIVE, TRANSPARENT: USING THE TWO-WAY MIRROR The third panel that Walton creates in his work is one I would describe as being similar to the glass of a two-way mirror. Its sole purpose is allowing The Power of Revolutionary Thought 11 the Black educator or student to see the mechanisms and actions of her counterpart without being seen herself. Understanding the dominant system is vital to successfully creating a new system that does not mirror the racist, White supremacist system that currently exists. Without careful consideration, what Denise Taliaferro Baszile (2008) deems “the oppressor within” will ultimately cause the perpetuators of the new system to reproduce the racist dynamics of the old system. Therefore, Black educators must be able to interrogate philosophies of White supremacy and identify their perpetuators as if they were in a line up. This allows for the building of a solid case in support of creating a new system that opens windows to justice, equity, and true freedom. It also provides Black educators with an understanding of White supremacy that can help them reflect on the ways in which they could be co-opted into using the same maneuvers. As Walton (1969) attempts to establish an Afro-American studies program at Merritt College, he encounters the kind of resistance that warrants a two-way mirror strategy. Time—especially the belief Sthat more time was needed to consider Walton’s proposal—was the most strategic form of resistance that he describes in the book. WaltonF remarks that ‘time’ is actually a “White word synonymous with delay, stall, indecisive, tradition, pseudo-liberals, fear, hatred and oppression”O (p. 31). Walton is able to identify this hidden form of resistance in an undetected manner that allows his antidote of “action” to be successful.O He offers copies of the memos and communications that transpiredR between him3 and his counterparts as an example of how to handle the information one retrieves using a two-way mirror strategy.P His counterparts did1 not know that he was aware of their strategy, thus they had no reason0 to use different tactics against him. This is Pimportant, as ending2 racism is war and the strategies of the oppressors are many. The system will protect itself by any means, thus a two-wayA mirror is vital for protection as one seeks to identify the tactics of WhiteI supremacy. © The two-way mirror pane also allows for the Black intellectual to be partially reflective and partially transparent. As with the glass used to create two-way mirrors, whenever one side of the mirror is brightly lit and the other is dark, it allows viewing from the darkened side but not vice versa (Loy, 1999). Therefore, Black intellectuals can engage in the kind of critical self-reflection necessary for the continuation of their political projects in the academy without allowing their counterparts to see their transparency. Walton is very critical of the Black educator and demands that these persons take very active roles in the creation and preservation of a Black curriculum. To do so, he states that those “pretenders” and Black educators that allow themselves to be used by the White racist system must be identified as threats to the Black agenda. Walton refers to them as “educational pimps” who have been hired by the current system to support 12 K. T. COLLIER

White liberals in their verbal commitments to Black liberation but indeed typically take no actions supporting their claims (p. 432). Walton also contends that Black educators must serve as public defenders for Black students and be willing to hear, support, and address the needs of Black students in the school and the academy. Such a role demands critical self- reflection as an individual an on behalf of the Black intellectual community.

CREATIVE TRANSCENDENCY: THE POWER OF THE STAINED GLASS WINDOW

Ultimately, the successful establishment of a Black curriculum or any program separate from the dominant Eurocentric curriculum will require an orientation of hope that extends beyond rational thinking. The years of oppression that Black Americans have experienced warrant noS rational reasoning for believing in change; however, very courageousF individuals who saw beyond rational limits have proven time and time again that the impossible can happen. The design of a new curriculumO window would not be complete without a pane that allotted for such vision. Stained glass has a very rich, thousand-year old historyO and is typically displayed in churches or other significant buildings (Raguin & Higgins, 2003). It is usually very colorful and admits Rlight in colorful ways3 that reflect its design. These windows often reflect a narrative 1through the artistic images embedded in them thatP is significant to0 the faith of the church or the history of the building in which it is located. They can be figuratively or non-figuratively Pdesigned and framed2 into various shapes and sizes (Raguin & Higgins,A 2003). For the BlackI student and educator,© the stained glass pane represents a spiritually and culturally transformative lens. This pane provides the spiritual/intellectual interface necessary for straightening out the distortion of education so that the possibility of emancipation becomes unambiguous. Cone (1999) argues that moral actions cannot be understood based on human reason alone because every person is limited by the confines of science and by his or her own perspectives and predispositions. No one can operate outside the system of White supremacy, either. We each play some role in establishing or maintaining its existence, whether willingly or unwillingly. To expand our understanding of moral justice and ultimately overcome the White supremacist ideology that dominates our society, we must be spiritually equipped to discern and settle that which White supremacy has placed on opposing sides. The three windowpanes previously described offer only self-serving resolutions. If there is no final The Power of Revolutionary Thought 13 reconciliation of the thesis and antithesis (King, 1963), the powerful and powerless, Black and White, then the window is closed. Towards the end of the book, Walton (1969) poses the question

How can I quickly revamp the whole curricula of my institution so that students coming to the college with distorted perspectives, the result of generations of oppression, might be guided into directions that would syphon off their explosive powder keg before someone ignites the fuse? (p. 509)

I believe the answer can be found in this forth windowpane, the stained glass. I draw upon the work of Michael Dantley (2005) who informs us:

much of Black life is a perpetual struggle against forms of oppression that would sap people’s emotions and physical resources, drain their intellectual wherewithal, and could leave them bereft of any hope were it not for the spiritual dimension of their multifaceted lives … spirituality becomes the foundation for the construction of the sacred self. (p. 657) S I believe those committed to Black education have to embodyF freedom so that others may learn of it and obtain it. In many ways, Black students and educators have to be “salt and light” andO offer a transformative perspective that is informed by their oppressive struggles. Black bodies have been physically and psychologicallyO beaten, murdered, raped, dismembered, and torn from all customsR that give a culture3 its sense of pride and identity. Cone (1999) warns us that “If our long history of struggle has taught us anything,P it is that if we are1 to be free, we Black people will have to do it. Freedom is not a gift0 but is a risk that must be taken” (p. 48). The Pfight for freedom is extremely2 risky business as it is a direct threat to many things considered normal, traditional, and rational. Nevertheless,A the utilization of a stained glass perspective can infuse the history of struggleI in the Black commun© ity with spirituality and display new shades of possibility and liberation. Walton’s work helps us to see that liberation in the academy warrants aggressive love by those who are willing to be bold, tenacious, and “wise as serpents and harmless as doves” (Matthew 10:16). The 1960s decade teaches us that educators cannot afford to stand by passively as war continues to be declared on the minds, bodies, and spirits of Black students or students of any other racial background. Although Walton wrote specifically about the creation of a Black curriculum, I believe his methods are applicable to many other marginalized groups. Anyone who chooses to serve as an educator faces the choice of taking advantage of the possibility of helping to maintain the current system or combatting the current system by spiritually and intellectually deconstructing the systemic plague of injustice. It is my hope that today’s educators choose the latter. 14 K. T. COLLIER

CONNECTING TO CURRICULUM TODAY

The design of a window as multidimensional as the one Walton provides for us is a very important tool for educators in today’s classrooms. Across the spectrum of K-12 and higher education, a Black curriculum is still needed. The writings of James A. Banks can help us to put this notion of Black curriculum into further perspective. Often considered to be the “father of multicultural education,” Banks (2006) argued that students’ rights to reach their own conclusions about the accuracy of historic events and various accounts of history were being confiscated by the social and cultural biases inherent in mainstream American schooling. Banks interrogated the notion of Black and multi- ethnic studies and the tendency of these programs, particularly during the emergence of Black revolt in the 1960s, to be constructed and used as Band-Aids on surgical wounds. Just as Walton had suggested, the inclusion of a Black curriculum into an already existing WhiteS school structure would only work minimally as a groundbreakingF effort to bring about change. Without the establishment of schools, districts, and universities using Black ideology, the prominent Oinfluence of White ideology would eventually deemphasize and ignore the problems of powerless ethnic groups in America (Banks, 2006).O We can look at the state of educational affairs in 1969 and compare it to today’s reality and see the valiRdity in this statement.3 We can also look to the work of other scholars such as Shujaa1 (1994) and Marable (1991) who have petitionedP for the creation of Afrocentric and “freedom” schools, therefore creating a stained glass0 window offering hope for and actual evidenceP of transformation.2 As we look back on Walton’s work, we would be remiss not to take hold of the power of revolutionary thought. AOftentimes, we have to force ourselves so far out of our conventionalI “boxes” so that we© can see a new perspective of reality. Once we gain those perspectives, we must continue to push to and through a period of transition towards a new level of humanity. Detroit activist Grace Lee Boggs (2011) asks “What will be the next American Revolution?” Boggs states that students “are crying out for another kind of education that gives them opportunities to exercise their creative energies because it values them as whole human beings” (p. 49). For education to be relevant again, we have to recognize the wisdom of our past to establish the future. Walton’s (1969) work is just one example of the curriculum windows that are possible when we bring the knowledge of our past into our current reality. The Power of Revolutionary Thought 15

REFERENCES

Banks, J. A. (2006). Race, culture and education: The selected works of James A. Banks. New York, NY: Routledge. Baszile D. (2008). The oppressor within: A counterstory of race, repression, and teacher reflection. Urban Review, 40(5), 371-385. Boggs, G. L., & Kurashige, S., (2001). The next American revolution: Sustainable activism for the twenty-first century. Los Angeles, CA: University of California Press. Burrell, T. (2010). Brainwashed: Challenging the myth of black inferiority. New York, NY: Smiley Books. Carmichael, S., & Hamilton, C. V. (1967). Black power: The politics of liberation in America. New York, NY: Random House. Cone, J. H. (1999). Risks of faith: The emergence of a Black theology of liberation, 1968- 1998. Boston, MA: Beacon Press. Cruse, H. (1967). The crisis of the Negro intellectual. New York, NY: Morrow. Dantley, M. (2005). African American spirituality and Cornel West’s notions of prophetic pragmatism: Restructuring educational leadership inS American urban schools. Educational Administration Quarterly, 41(4), 651-674. Fordham, S. (1996). Blacked out: Dilemmas of race, identity, andF success at Capi- tal High/Signithia Fordham. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press. Kharem, H. (2006). A curriculum of repression: A pedagogyO of racial history in the United States. New York, NY: P. Lang. King, M. L. (1963). Strength to love. New York, NY:O Harper & Row. Marable, M. (1992). The crisis of color and democracy: Essays on race, class, and power. Monroe, ME: Common Courage Press.R 3 Ogbu, J. (2008). Minority status, oppositional culture, and1 schooling. New York, NY: Routledge. P Painter, N. I. (2010).The history of White people. New York0 , NY: W.W. Norton. Raguin, V. C., & Higgins, M. C. (2003).Stained glass: From its origins to the present. New York: H.N. Abrams.P 2 Scott, J. C. (1990).A Domination and the arts of resistance: Hidden transcripts. New Haven, ICT: Yale University Press.© Shujaa, M. J. (1994).Too much schooling, too little education: A paradox of black life in white societies. Trenton, NJ: Africa World Press. Walton, S. (1969). Black Curriculum: Developing a program in Afro-American studies. Oakland, CA: Black Liberation Publishers. Welsing, F. C. (1991). The Isis (Yssis) papers: The keys to the colors. Chicago, IL: Third World Press.

CHAPTER 2

A WINDOW TOWARD EXPANDED EXPERIENCES Exposing Today’s Limited Menu ofS Classroom Offerings andF Asking for More VarietyO S. SANDER ScottR SanderO 3 P You cannot teach1 a man anything; you can only help0 him find it within himself. P 2 —Galileo In the currentIA educational era of top-down mandates and high-stakes standardized tests, I often wonder, how© did things get to this point? When students and teachers spend disproportionate hours on preparing for a single test, how did picking “the” right answer become such a priority? Shouldn’t schools be expanding possibilities for students instead of limiting options? When the outside world has advanced so quickly in the past century, what has kept the inner functioning of schools largely unchanged? Should a place that students spend so much time not help expand their vision of the outside world instead of closing down connections? With calls for education reform being ubiquitous over the past 100 years, what is preventing

Curriculum Windows: What Curriculum Theorists of the 1960s Can Teach Us About Schools and Society Today, pp. 17–33 Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved. 17 18 S. SANDER the “change” that so many claim is needed? How can we possibly go from the way things currently are to the way they ought to be? The late 1960s provide an initial starting point for investigating these questions. It was a time that saw a huge thrust toward operationally stated objectives as the way to bring about and measure changes in student achievement in our nation’s classrooms. The 1969 AERA Monograph Series on Curriculum Evaluation, Volume 3, titled Instructional Objectives was produced as a result. The monograph contains the writings of four curriculum scholars who were asked to contribute their thoughts and discuss relevant issues surrounding objectives. While three of the writers lend support for the commonsensical, scientific nature of instructional objectives, one voice is asking for everyone to consider something more. Elliot Eisner uses his contribution to the monograph to describe exactly what instructional objectives can accomplish in schools but unlike the rest, he also addresses their limitations. It is Eisner’s vision to see what others couldn’t that provides the impetus for this chapter as his insightsS provide a clear window for us to view the present in the past. At once, this is a story about me and my experiences Fbut also about a story that is much bigger than just me. While I’m telling a narrative here, the original story was written by Elliot Eisner who Oserves as a flashlight-tot- ing tour guide, ready to illuminate a broader, more expanded view of education and the world through his ground-breakingO work that began in the late 1960s. His insights and his wisdomR are just as applicable3 for our classrooms today as they were when first written. In this chapter, it is my goal to use Eisner’s work to shine a lightP on the limitations of1 our current models of schooling, to provide hope that there is potentially0 more to the story, and then open this window forward. So, 2this story is also about you and other educators like Pus who strive to create meaningful experiences for our students and haveA the desire to find purpose in our work in the classroom. Those twoI words, meaning and© purpose , serve as overriding themes for this chapter because my previous work in the classroom had lost meaning and purpose for me. The restrictive, stifling nature of standardized testing slowly pulled me into a world where achievement scores were the sole measure of success. The thick gray walls of my classroom became both a physical and a mental barrier keeping me narrowly focused on “helping all students achieve proficiency” and even convincing me this was a worthy goal! Over time, I began to feel like I was trapped in some silly game. For now I’ll compare it to putting on a t-shirt backwards. There was a low- level sense of discomfort but something I didn’t fully recognize right away. Teaching “just didn’t feel right.” Those were actually the exact words I used when writing my application to return to Miami University for doctoral study (minus the t-shirt reference). The persistent, nagging frustration that forced me out of the A Window Toward Expanded Experiences 19 classroom only got worse as the professors at Miami began to challenge my thinking about education. My limited perspectives were quickly exposed with comments by Dr. Richard Quantz “we already know what works in education”; Dr. Tom Poetter “there are no new thoughts in education”; and Dr. Lisa Weems “it’s about the process, not the project.” These were passing comments they probably do not remember but made a blip on my radar and just like the C&C Music Factory song, they were just Things That Make You Go.... Hmmm. Their comments added to my original discomfort and now nothing was fitting right! I didn’t know exactly what they meant at the time, but I knew these comments challenged my current way of thinking. So this chapter is also about the process of working through these discomforts that I could not shed and the new insights that have emerged along the way. It was the work of Elliot Eisner that allowed me to see that my t-shirt was on backwards. We will start by returning to the past. In Part 1, we look at schooling in the 1960s and describe the roots of instructional objectives. Then,S in Part 2, we consider a metaphor depicting instructional objectives in order to develop a deeper understanding of their overall impact. FIn Part 3, we rely on the insights of Elliot Eisner to expose the ways that instructional objectives serve to limit ways of thinking and knowing. OIn Part 4, we explore the unintentional consequences associated with standardized testing (as an off- shoot of 1960s instructional objectives) forO our students as they leave the educational system and enter the real world. Finally, in Part 5, once everything is in the light, we consider theR world from Eisner’s window.3 Since I believe we are all interestedP in making education1 better, I’m hoping to keep you engaged and build a rapport that0 lets you see that we share common experiences. So when I get to the heavy part of this chapter, I hope you do not dismissP it or gloss over it.2 By keeping you off-guard the goal is to keepA you tuned-in so that at the end of the chapter, you can look back at the Iintroductory quote by© Galileo and it all comes together. So turn off the cell phone, mute the TV, and allow my words to intermingle with your thoughts and experiences as we begin a trip to uncover the hidden aspects of education that have, in some cases, robbed us of meaningful classroom experiences.

PART 1: BACK TO THE FUTURE

The significant problems of our time cannot be solved by the same. —Albert Einstein

Strangely enough, this tale traces back to 1957 and begins in outer space when the Russians launched the world’s first unmanned spacecraft, 20 S. SANDER

Sputnik I. This was a major blow to the American ego and our national feelings of superiority (Schubert, Schubert, Thomas, & Carroll, 2002). The Russians had taken the lead in the space race; they were first, and we were lagging behind. This signaled the alarm bells that the United States was too weak in basic subjects like math and science. Were the schools to blame for this perceived risk to national security? If our schools were strong, how had the Russians defeated us in the space race? The Sputnik launch triggered an immediate call for improving science and technology curriculum (Pinar, Reynolds, Slattery, & Taubman, 2006). Proposals that had been considered un-funded eccentricities before Sputnik were awarded massive funding by both governmental and private sources that catered to the expediency of political necessity (Schubert et al., 2002). This increase in funding did not occur without the customary strings attached. Politicians expected a return on their investment. Schools would be accountable for the extra money they received. This led to an era of instructional objectives throughout the 1960s where teachersS were required to show increases in student performance (Pinar et al., 2006). A disproportionate focus on measurement and accountabilityF soon followed. If it couldn’t be quantified and measured it was not appropriate for the curriculum. “It was a remarkable period in theO history of the science education movement, notable for demonstrating how effective an educational scare can be when coupled with nationalO economic and social concerns” (Shamos, 1995, p. xiv). For many, this scientific mode3 of measuring change made sense. Few were questioningR if the change being measured was worth achieving. P 1 At the 1966 annual AERA meeting in Chicago,0 it was decided that a committee would beP established to prepare2 a set of technical recommendations regarding the specification of objectives (Popham, Eisner, Sulli- van, & Tyler, 1969).A This committee would deliberate on issues regarding educationalI objectives and recommend© the best way to proceed with further inquiry on the topic. The chair of the committee, W. James Popham of the University of California, Los Angeles and the Southwest Regional Laboratory for Educational Research and Development was joined by Elliott W. Eisner of Stanford University, Howard J. Sullivan of the South- west Regional Laboratory for Educational Research and Development, and Louise L. Tyler of the University of California, Los Angeles. Each member was charged with preparing a paper dealing with a topic of interest regarding educational objectives. The papers were discussed among committee members and these transcripts along with a brief epilogue written by each committee member comprise the final volume of the published monograph. As eloquently stated by Einstein at the beginning of this section, many of the arguments for instructional objectives can be found in school poli- A Window Toward Expanded Experiences 21 cies and practices today. Unfortunately, it seems we’ve been down this path before so we should know where it leads. I’ll summarize some of the key features of each author’s argument so you can decide for yourself. James Popham makes a strong argument for the “obvious” connection between instruction and objectives. For Popham, objectives have to be measurable by observable behavior and the product (tangible artifact) of the learner’s behavior. “The most crucial part of the objective for instructional purposes is the description of the learner’s behavior change” (Popham et al., 1969, p.38). With the ends of instruction clearly defined, it became all about planning and scripting curriculum and pedagogy in detailed and deliberate ways. All that mattered for Popham was the ability to achieve desired ends. Howard Sullivan follows a similar tone with student performance as the only true measure of value. For Sullivan, the major focus was on evaluation of outcomes. Has there been a change in behavior as a result of instruction? This can be shown by using precise preset outcomesS provided for relevant planning of instruction and then assessing the effects of instruction. His paper gives the impression of teaching Fas clerical work: boxes to check, ultra scripting of each day, and using testing to document progress. O Louise Tyler also says it is “obvious” that ends must be specified in order to select appropriate means but sheO gives more of a focus on how those ends get identified in the firstR place and whether they’re3 defensible. She also subscribes to the idea that “an objective is a statement of the behavior which the learner isP to manifest” (Popham1 et al., 1969, p.102). Tyler starts by identifying a gap between the learner’s0 behavior and some social norm with objectivesP formed to remedy2 the gap through philosophical and psychological screens. Her paper then strays toward objectives using psychoanalysisA that read more like the teacher’s voice in a Peanuts cartoon. I © Elliot Eisner starts by discussing the concept of educational objectives and how it “makes sense” to use them. He traces the evolution of educational objectives in the educational literature and mentions the research on the usefulness of educational objectives. He starts to sound like all the others in support of scripting and measuring objectives. As he reviews arguments for and against behavioral objectives (and a reader gets ready to pick a side), Eisner makes a shift. He actually concludes that it’s not simply a choice between two techniques. To choose between behavioral versus nonbehavioral oversimplifies the discussion, one that is based on the individual’s philosophic view of education and view of the world. Eisner believes there is much more to education than what can be measured. And this “more” can be approached by teachers and students using “expressive outcomes.” 22 S. SANDER

For Eisner, an expressive outcome is based on experiences. As a part of any journey, in school or out of school, Eisner believed that much could be learned in the margins along the way in those unplanned experiences that happen in addition to the planned experiences (Kridel, Bullough, & Shaker, 1996). Having a plan was important but the freedom to explore new options as they arise was equally important for him. In school this still translates to high standards but without the strict standardization. There is a major difference between exploration of interests and aimless- nessly “winging it.” For Eisner, “being alert to qualities in the world, being able to perceive them deeply, appreciate them broadly, experience them fully, makes life worth living” (Kridel et al., 1996). In a room of sameness, Eisner had the courage to voice a different perspective toward the dominant thought of instructional objectives. While the word “different” would seem to convey a better vs. worse dualism, that too would oversimplify Eisner’s insights. Different does not mean bad, odd, or strange (go ahead, look it up) but it does mean diverseS or unusual or various and that’s what Eisner wanted for education. While even Eisner accepted the basic structure of instructional objectives, heF had the imagination to look at the world of school reform with greater possibilities and expectations. He wants us all to expect and demandO “more.” Thus, he encourages us to consider the power of theO “expressive” in educational experiences. R 13 Windows—Big and SmallP P 20 A It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see. I © —Henry David Thoreau By providing their views on instructional objectives all four curriculuarists also provide windows through which to view the world. Popham, Sullivan, and Tyler—who in various ways support and favor the strict adherence to instructional objectives—take the view that the world is already fully known. They see no reason for new questions to be asked; there are only answers to be selected and measured. This view appeals to many (even today) for its commonsensical, clean, simple, measurable, scientific, and mechanical nature. Their window into the world is present— yet very small. This view only reveals a small fraction of the world. These same features “make sense” and are appealing for those who think education should be comfortable, safe, and unchaotic; but these terms can also be construed as unchallenging, passive, boring, and even A Window Toward Expanded Experiences 23 mind-numbing. In today’s lingo, Popham, Sullivan, and Tyler want “what works” and the one “best practice” that can be prescribed regardless of teacher, student, subject, or location. This view is simply too simple. Their notions of instructional objectives limit possibilities and eliminate opportunities for questioning, dialogue, and debate within the complex world of schooling. The appeal of Eisner’s insights is that he does not reject what instructional objectives can achieve but instead brings a greater awareness to what they can’t. Eisner accepts the existence of instructional objectives but artfully reveals how they place a ceiling or lid on ways of thinking about the world. While instructional objectives allow you to see a small section of the world, Eisner expands the window to allow a much broader, deeper and richer view of the world. PART 2: A LIMITED MENU FS Think and wonder,O wonder and think. O —Dr. Seuss While the previous paragraphs do Rcommunicate the basic3 ideas of Elliot Eisner, I feel the use of a metaphor will allow for you1 to consider his ideas from a different, deeper perspective.P Contemplate the following: You head out to dinner with a friend at a well-established,0 local restaurant. You enter excited andP hungry to discover 2what this restaurant has to offer. As you pick up the menu, you notice there are 4 choices for entrees. The impetus toI questionA why only 4© choices is quickly extinguished as your friend exclaims “Wow, look at the great choices!” As the waiter approaches your table to record your choice, you quickly review the menu again. Hmmm, should I have Apricots, Broccoli, Carrots, or Dates, you ponder. Feeling uninspired by any of the offerings, you half- heartedly convince yourself you’d like the carrots but without even asking, your friend speaks out, “Give him the broccoli … he’ll like it.” Next, your friend begins some long lecture about the history of salt and pepper shakers. He makes no attempt to engage you in the conversation, which works out fine since it’s a topic you find bland and flavorless. Almost habitually, you turn toward your cellphone to check Facebook updates. While continuing to sit there, still pretending to be listening, pangs of frustration begin to form as do the following thoughts: Why are you wasting my time with this boring trivia? When will I ever need to know this? 24 S. SANDER

Then, surprisingly, you catch a whiff of aromatic goodness that snaps you out of your mindless stupor. You interrupt the rambling of your friend to state, “Hey, that sure doesn’t smell like apricots, broccoli, carrots, or dates.” Yo ur friend quickly dismisses this insight by saying, “Well, it has to be one of them, that’s all that’s on the menu.” Agreeing with the common sense nature of this statement, you shrug and go back to playing Words with Friends. Finally the waiter delivers your food to the table. The broccoli is adequate and besides, you’ve been told your entire life that broccoli is not only good for you, it’s essential to a productive life. So while it does provide the basic nutrients (as deemed necessary by someone else), it’s nothing special and something that you passively consume. The overall dining experience leaves you moderately satisfied yet without any desire, need, or inclination to ever return. As you again use your cellphone, this time to input the same old calories into MyFitnessPal, you leave the restaurant content but totally unaware that the restaurant broccoli was not as beneficial as you thought. Meanwhile, back in the restaurant and unbeknownst to youS while you were there, sits an endless buffet. This buffet does contain all the regular menu items (apricots, broccoli, carrots, and dates), but soF much more. It is filled with infinite possibilities and choices, but youO missed out. You were not offered the option to have the buffet and while you did get a few whiffs of its various savory delights, you Odid not even know it existed. Since the buffet was not on the menu, it never occurred to you to inquire further. The buffet was there the entireR time but was simply3 hidden from view behind a darkened window. P 01 Elliot Eisner and theP Endless Buffet 2 When I quoteIA others I do so in order© to express my own ideas more clearly. —Michel de Montaigne

When writing for the AERA conference, Elliot Eisner made extensive use of metaphors as a way to convey his message about instructional objectives. While the other three authors made common-sense arguments for what instructional objectives could provide, Popham, Sullivan, and Tyler each fail to recognize what instructional objectives remove from the menu. The genius of Eisner’s work is to shed light on these limitations. He doesn’t come off as a contrarian nor does he oppose the use of instructional objectives. He simply builds a case for a broader world-view that includes not only instructional objectives but also the need for expressive outcomes in order for schools to maximize experiences, extend possibilities, and reach their full potential. In Eisner’s own words, A Window Toward Expanded Experiences 25

I would want a school curriculum to provide not only for those things which are of an instructionally objective nature but those things which potentially will yield something of educational value even though the precise dimen- sions of the outcomes cannot be specified to the level of clarity or specificity that instructional objectives ought to have. (Popham et al., 1969, p. 23)

That is, Eisner looks to expand what might be possible for teachers and students if the classroom were more like an endless buffet than a scripted menu with only four choices. When the numbers of available choices are preset, it also places a limit on what can be known.

If you tell a youngster that these are the kinds of things you ought to be getting out of this book or these are the questions that you ought to address yourself to when you read this book, you may indeed help him to be more efficient in extracting the things you’ve asked for. But you may also be closing off, by doing that, other possibilities in which he discovers or relates meaningS that he might otherwise have no opportunity to do. (Popham et al.,F 1969, p. 26) The proverbial shades are drawn on ways of thinking about the world. Eisner writes, “If a teacher focuses primarily on theO attainment of clearly specified objectives, she is not likely to focus on other aspects of the educational encounter, for although clearly specifiedO objectives provide windows, they also create walls” (PophamR et al., 1969, p. 14). 3 With expressive outcomes, the shift is from homogeneity of thinking to diversity of thinking. The freedomP to explore unique1 situations exists so that meaning becomes individualized and personalized,0 not standardized. “The creative contribution is a function2 of what people produce which has not been Ppreconceived but, upon analysis, is judged to be valuable” (PophamA et al., 1969, p.21). This is a tough pill to swallow for those who only seeI a world in terms of© what can be measured. The process of expressive outcomes is not as neat or linear or systematic but they provide for educational opportunities that instructional objectives cannot. Eisner illuminates the essential need for expressive outcomes in schools:

I would like to see us provide situations in a school where that cutting edge experience can be undergone because in a very important sense you might say that the ultimate criterion of education is an aesthetic criterion rather than a product criterion. It may be that the most important goal of education is to enable people to think in such a way that the kind of experience they undergo is a feelingful experience, is an aesthetic experiences. If we enable them to have that kind of experience in school, then maybe they would be more likely to derive that experience subsequently. Unfortunately, I think, too often in school the activities that youngsters engage in are neither instrumental for them nor are they consummatory. 26 S. SANDER

Sticking solely with measurable, instructional objectives takes certain other ways of knowing off the table. Sure, using instructional objectives can accomplish certain things, even Eisner readily concedes this fact. But he also shows that this narrow focus closes the window to other possibilities that aren’t recognized or seen. If the menu says the restaurant has apricots, broccoli, carrots, and dates, it would not even occur to you to ask for pizza or Chinese food—it’s not on the menu. When certain things aren’t on the menu, you do not even think to consider them. Why would you? With the increased focus on standardized testing, this constraining of choices is occurring in schools all the time. We are forced to passively consume what someone else has deemed appropriate; it is merely slopped on our plate. When content learning is packaged in 50-minute boxes of lectures and worksheets and delivered on a regular schedule 5 days a week, there is no inclination to search for other options. Why would you? The traditional school structure has largely taken any choice away from students and teachers. But even worse, it has removed the ideaS that other choices are even available or if seen, valued! So while students are confined to a narrow list of content topics that feel irrelevantF to their lives, Eisner is screaming out from behind one of those sound-proof room’s one-way mirrors, “Hey, look over here … you’re missingO out on an endless buffet of possibilities! You could have so much more!” Think of it this way: No matter how well-writtenO the menu, no matter what words are used to describe whatR the food tastes like,3 the words (written/verbal forms of communication) can never convey or capture the experiences of actually savoringP the food. I’m pretty1 sure no words exist for the sensation imparted by that first bite of General0 Tso’s Chicken with its fancy, slightly tangyP sauce and magical2 crispy crunch (that is a shout out to the China Wok in Eaton, Ohio—you gotta try it!). Eisner allows us to see the obviousA conclusion that the words alone cannot do justice to the experience.I In his own words, “I’m© not trying to characterize the men in the white hats and the men in the black hats … I want to provide both kinds of opportunities” (Popham et al., 1969, p. 26). So ultimately, it’s not about me or Eisner trying to paint instructional objectives as bad but it is about recognizing that they serve only as a small slice of the pie and limit our ways of knowing to only one slice of the world. He and I both want more for education, more for our students, and more for you. While I’ll stop shy of labeling the General Tso Chicken from Eaton’s China Wok “life-changing,” I do truly savor it as a special treat, a sinful pleasure and memorable dining experience amid a regular diet of turkey wraps and tuna fish sandwiches. But I wouldn’t trade in the regular food, either. The initial excitement of eating General Tso Chicken for every meal would quickly fade. Part of this is due to the fact that I realize other options exist. Whether it’s other food from the same buffet, a burrito from the shop A Window Toward Expanded Experiences 27 next door, or leftovers from my fridge, my menu is not limited to a single way of thinking about food. So I want to be clear that I’m not critiquing what is offered on the menu itself, only that there are plenty of options not listed. This limiting of choices continues to have a profound effect on our students even well after they leave formal education.

PART 3: A NEW WINDOW APPEARS

To know what you know and to know what you don’t know, that is real wisdom. —Confucius

While the professors at Miami may have challenged my thinking about education, it was the work of Eisner that fed my need to know more. Eis- ner’s insights opened a window to a world of education beyond merelyS what can be measured. He illuminated ideas that were hidden from view by the solid, gray walls of a school structure that serve to confine Fand limit or even suppress ideas. As I continued to read, think, read some more, and finally sit down to write, I actually found myself telling a storyO that was not even on my original map. This part of the story considersO the long-term impact of offering such a limited menu while keeping other options in the dark. While the Sputnik launch in 1957R set the stage for the3 emphasis on instructional objectives, let’s now fast forward 40 years1 to 2001 when No Child Left Behind (NCLB) wasP enacted with promises to reform education for all students. This federal law mandates the0 use of high-stakes tests designed to drive broadP gains in student 2achievement and holds schools more accountable for student progress (Hassard, 2012). For all the standardizing effectsIA sought by instructional objectives in the 1960s, they were not encased in law. NCLB punishes© school governance (mandates due to federal law) and organization (punish low performing districts) and has an insidiously covert and negative effect on the resulting curriculum and pedagogy formed in its wake. Whatever standardizing effects were brought about by instructional objectives in the 1960s, NCLB is much worse. Even Elliot Eisner would have his hands full with this battle, and he has.

The Testing Games and Indoctrination

Education is what remains after one has forgotten what one has learned in school. —Albert Einstein 28 S. SANDER

In this section, I argue that there is a tremendous amount of learning that takes place in schools. Unfortunately, the lessons learned are not usually filled with critical thinking, problem solving, or even strong science content. Mostly the lessons are about authority and obedience. Due to federal mandates like NCLB, standardized testing has made schooling all about getting high scores, it has become about the test, it has become a game. In the process, students are being indoctrinated, not by controversial content, but by the authoritarian methods of instruction that require obedience and compliance (Callan & Arena, 2009) and a strict adherence to the mastery of lower-level content knowledge divided meaninglessly in discrete bits. These are major obstacles for any true reform in education and barriers that rarely get addressed because they operate at a level just below our conscious awareness. When only a limited number of options are presented, it takes any others off the table and can have serious implications for how our former students enter the “real world.” Let’s consider a ninth grade physical science teacher standingS in front of 30 students talking about atoms and the periodic table. While the explicit content (protons, atomic numbers, etc.) may For may not be received by students, the implicit message of teacher as “knowledge pro- vider” is also being sent. The content being taughtO doesn’t matter here, it’s the authority that comes with possessing the knowledge that I am concerned with. When the teacher stands in theO front of the room imparting knowledge to students, the message of who has the power3 is also sent. While science or math content getsR delivered once per day, implicit messages get hammered home allP day, every day! 1 The power of this form of indoctrination comes0 from its unquestioned acceptance where studentsP are trained to be2 close-minded. When students are continually fed from a menu of limited choices, they don’t even consider the existence Aof other choices. Think of traditional cases we’ve all experienced. FromI prepackaged lab activities© to static definitions found in the back of the book, to sit-and-get lecture and note classes; what is provided, what’s available to consider. A student’s thinking becomes limited by what is on the menu and it never even occurs to him/her to ask for something else. But then again, why would you? It’s not on the menu! It doesn’t happen all at once, it takes time—let’s say 13 years. Consider the average kindergartner compared to the average high school senior. One is vibrant, active, and questioning while the other has become listless, docile, and obedient. Even John Dewey (1916) said, “No one has ever explained why children are so full of questions outside of the school, and the conspicuous absence of display of curiosity about the subject matter of school lessons” (p. 183). Well, it’s because they’ve been indoctrinated to be accepting of what authority figures say! The teacher, playing the role of authority figure, has the knowledge, and students “learn” compliance, A Window Toward Expanded Experiences 29 obedience to authority, and close-mindedness. U.S. schools are serving up, delivering and forcing students to consume from a very limited menu that results in a faulty conception of what learning and education mean. After students have stepped away from the K-12 table (and well after they’ve forgotten how many neutrons are in a carbon-14 isotope) consider what does remain, namely a well-entrenched disconnect between what schools provide and what is needed in the “real world.” They enter the world with the impression that since they have been through school, they are now educated. As if somehow a label like “proficient” on some standardized test actually represents being educated! But it makes sense, to them at least; they followed the rules, played the game, now it is over. They’ve already tried what was on the menu and see no reason to go back for more. It’s this lack of regard toward education and disconnect from learning that I see as being so dangerous once these passive, indoctrinated students enter the world and continue to live as disengaged citizens.S PART 4: THE ART OF DISTRACTION F Eternal vigilanceO is the price of liberty. O —Wendell Phillips When I walk around the campus ofR Miami University, I often3 take notice of the high frequency of people using their cell phones, either talking, texting, or surfing the Internet.P The same could be1 said for many other public or private settings and the ubiquitous 0presence of this handheld technology. It’s becomeP a major pet peeve2 of mine to see someone caus- ally, habitually check their phone while seemingly engaged in a social situation. They Amay be physically present in the space but they are mentally distracted orI tuned out. It’s as if© many people have lost the ability to stay engaged “in the moment.” Seemingly lost is the ability to appreciate and enjoy the present as everyone appears so preoccupied with being somewhere else. If you’ve never paid attention to it before, take note the next time you are at the grocery store or your local restaurant. I am actually surprised when I don’t see someone staring straight down at their Twitter feed. I’m not saying getting rid of cell phones, blocking e-mail or deleting your Facebook solves anything; the point is just to be aware of the way things are. I argue that this lack of engagement comes at a very high price. As a result of living in a world within schools that indoctrinate students to be close-minded, obedient, and dependent, we now have a nation filled with citizens that have the same mindset, a nation filled with people who passively consume what they are told by “authority” figures, whether it be 30 S. SANDER scientists, bureaucrats, or politicians. As students, a menu was always provided to choose from so now we are left with citizens unable to question, critique, or evaluate information. Even worse, most people are unaware that anything else exists beyond prepackaged, stump speeches or what gets delivered by FOX News or MSNBC. They may have some sense that something “just isn’t right” but have no ability to challenge this system. They’ve never learned to negotiate/ navigate hostile systems. Their whole life they’ve been dependent on others to deliver information to them and then passively wait to be told what it means. There’s no pressure or demand to inquire further, it’s much easier, comfortable, and familiar to let someone else tell me what to do. Unfortunately, everyone is good at this game; just wait long enough and someone always provides “the answer.” There are masses of citizens who share this common educational system, sampled what it had to offer, feel they got what they needed, and moved on. Where does this all lead? To the same place it always has: a perpetuationS of the status quo. When people are disengaged from largerF aspects of society or rely on other people to get involved, nothing changes. All the common distractions in life keep you in this repeatingO pattern of sameness. The “I just worked all day, I’m tired and just want to watch TV, eat dinner, and go to bed … I have another busy day Otomorrow” mentality may make sense but it doesn’t make things change. How many of you have been happy to just survive the day? It hasR become about let’s just3 get through this and let’s get this over with. People have become distracted1 and thus apathet- ically unaware of these hidden P aspects operating0 all around them. One more metaphor should drive home my point. Take, for example, the familiar drive toP work or school. It2 largely happens automatically without reallyA realizing it, especially when it’s before 7:00 A.M.! It’s largely a mindless,I passive activity that© you repeat every day, until something catches your attention. It is those rumble strips on the side of the road to alert you that you’re off-course. Sure, they existed the entire time but you didn’t become aware of them until you came in contact with them and they snapped you out of that unconscious, head-down-and-go, get-to-the- end haze. I want my words here and Eisner’s work to be the rumble strips that refocus you on the task at hand. My intent was to use Eisner’s insights to bring greater awareness to those things that exist just below our primary level of awareness. The problem is that “telling” is not an effective way to teach or for that matter, to learn. The introductory quote of this chapter by Galileo communicates the idea I am trying to express now. Using Eisner’s own words was intentional because what he wrote opened a new window to the world of schooling and I’m confident his writing can do the same for you. A Window Toward Expanded Experiences 31

It was Eisner’s ideas that allowed me to discover an awakening and develop a greater awareness about education and myself. Hi, my name is Scott Sander—and I was a knowledge consumer. As a product of the oppressive structure of schooling, I own many of the pitfalls described in this chapter and while I don’t wear them as a badge of honor, thanks to Eisner and others, I finally recognize the influence they had over me. By shining a light on the stifling, confining world of education, I have felt a renewed sense of purpose and meaning that I thought was lost. This experience ignited the desire to bring everyone on a similar journey so they can experience what Eisner has to offer.

PART 5: THE WORLD THROUGH EISNER’S WINDOW

Eisner’s writings highlight the process involved in education for meaningful experiences. His writings are far from prescriptive but far Smore than idealistic rhetoric. His vision and imagination can serve to spark the awakening process and a way to attack the entrenched structureF of indoctrination in today’s world of standardized testing. Eisner provides hope for recognizing what is and transforming it into whatO ought to be. Since the work of Eisner threatens the stability of its observer, it becomes valuable for curriculum scholars and classroomO teachers. His writings serve as possible traumatic encounters whereR we learn to see what3 we had not noticed and in doing so, self is remade. Through Eisner’s window, the world begins to appear in a newP way. We become subjected1 to the full range of emotions. Yes, there will be conflict, tension,0 and frustration but the struggle and working Pthrough leads to liberation,2 celebration, and pleasure. These emotions (positive and negative) are part of the process and part of the journey towardA meaning, purpose, and enlightenment. This is living and experiencingI all that life has© to offer and stands in stark contrast to the standardized, consistent, monotonous, unchallenging, boring alternative that the world of education has fallen victim to and conveys through tightly scripted and controlled school practices. In reading and researching for this chapter, I often found myself overwhelmed by the huge amount of literature already written on education. If I went to the library to check out a book on Constructivist Te a c h i ng M e t h o d s , there were 50 more with heavy titles surrounding my book on either side. How can we have all these books and still be in the mess we’re in? What can I possibility add to the conversation that is not already in these books? Eisner helped me shift my perspective and see I was asking the wrong questions. I needed to move beyond prescriptive titles of “what works” and examine why these ideas aren’t taking hold? The initial fear and anxiety of being expected to contribute some fancy, new idea has been 32 S. SANDER shifted and reframed as a passion, hunger, and excitement to find out more; I have a desire to bring the entire picture into view for myself and others. It was in the preparation (and struggle) to write this chapter that I realized the power and potential of Eisner’s work. I went from reading about expressive outcomes to experiencing them. This epistemological shift opened up a window of viewing the world that was previously closed from sight. I didn’t anticipate finding a path leading to power and indoctrination in schooling; it wasn’t on my original menu. Again, I turn to Eisner to express more succinctly what I am trying to convey.

In the process of writing, in the process of painting, and in the process of researching, ideas emerge which become leading ideas which then direct the course of action. Sometimes these ideas you know are accidental, they are unanticipated. In a much vaguer sense it’s “muddling through,” and it’s an important kind of activity which I think is very characteristic of people at the cutting edge of inquiry. (Popham et al., 1969, p. 28) S Hopefully, some piece of this story caught you just the rightF way or both- ers you enough that you will continue to think about it (longer than our students think about school after the bell rings). OMaybe you will be motivated to continue to investigate some of the concepts and ideas that you find interesting. Maybe you weren’t familiarO with my C&C Music Factory reference from the beginning of the chapter, but you were just curious enough to Google it or start upR a conversation about3 it with your coworker. Maybe you disagreeP with my views of schooling1 or you see something different. That is even better! Let 0us have these discussions, conversations, and debates. My intention was never to provide “the” answer but only to sparkP more questions 2and open windows to see things that have beenA ignored. It was Ian intentional decision© to write this chapter in a more conversational tone because we are on this journey together. Besides, if you took the time to read this chapter and made it to this point, you are already deeply invested in education—or you are part of my family (Hi, mom!) Either way, the last thing you want to read is me telling you what to do. The world of education is already filled with stuffy, prescriptive literature that advocates some “best practice” to fix all the ills for every classroom, every teacher and every student. I intentionally decided not to add to that conversation. Instead I tried to model the work of Elliot Eisner while providing food for thought for you, the reader. Using metaphors in an “Eisnerian” fashion was intended to be the breadcrumbs leading you down a path of discovery versus delivering you some recipe on a silver platter. Instead of some magic bullet, I think of this story as educational smelling salts: something that can A Window Toward Expanded Experiences 33 arouse us all mentally in order to get beyond the surface level debates that have kept schools stuck in the status quo. It is important to realize and keep in mind that for all the great philosophers (Dewey) and theorists (Eisner) of education, the basic form and function of schooling has remained largely unchanged for decades. All the curriculum books of the 1960s had little impact when it came to improving schools/education. Instead of writing more of the same, there was a need for me to ask, why did all of this happen? What are we missing? From this lens, there is no need for new ideas; we have everything we need and even know what happens when the ideas are not followed. We are able to “see” our future from reflections/parallels of the past. The ideas of Elliott Eisner still ring true today but our focus needs to be on the barriers that have served to keep them in the dark, to limit their impact, and to prevent their full implementation. By shining the light on the limitations of our current educational structure, the ideas of Elliot Eisner also refocus our attention on the purpose and meaningS we should expect and demand from education and allow us to see through a window filled with hope and possibilities for our future. OF REFERENCESO Callan, E., & Arena, D. (2009). Indoctrination. Oxford Handbook on Philosophy of Education. Oxford, England: OxfordR University Press. 3 Dewey, J. (1916). Democracy and education: an introduction to1 the philosophy of education. New York, NY: Macmillan. P Hassard, J. (2012). The testing games put our youth0 at risk. Education Week: Living in Dialogue. RetrievedP from http://blogs.edweek.org/teachers/living-in-2 dialogue/2012/04/the_testing_games_put_our_yout.html?cmp=SOC-SHR- FB A Kridel, C. A.,I Bullough, R. V., & Shaker,© P. (1996). Teachers and mentors?: Profiles of distinguished twentieth-century professors of education. New York, NY: Garland. Pinar, W. F., Reynolds, W. M., Slattery, P., & Taubman, P. M. (2006). Understanding curriculum: An introduction to the study of historical and contemporary curriculum discourses. Switzerland: Peter Lang. Popham, W. J., Eisner, E. W., Sullivan, H. J., & Tyler, L. L. (1969). Instructional objectives AERA mongraph series on curriculum evaluation. Chicago, IL: Rand McNally. Schubert, W. H., Schubert, A. L. L., Thomas, T. P., & Carroll, W. (Eds.). (2002). Curriculum books (2nd ed.). Switzerland: Peter Lang. Shamos, M. (1995). The myth of scientific literacy. New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers Uni- versity Press.

CHAPTER 3

SCHOOLS IN PROCESS Creating “New” Priorities S L. ANN FISH Leigh Ann Fish OF A person’s life is an ever-changing blend Oof peak experiences of the past, demanding circumstances of the moment, and hopes and expectations3 of the future. To the degrees that the personR can make sense out of his swirl of contacts, memories, and aspirations,P to the same degree1 will he live a meaningful and satisfying life. Fortunate indeed is0 the person who has learned to resolve conflict withP a reasonable degree2 of competence and to establish priorities so that he can place the impact of the moments into perspective. IA—Louise Berman© from New Priorities in the Curriculum

If I didn’t know better, I would have thought all of these curriculum texts from the 1960s could have been written last week. On one hand, taken together, they present a sad commentary on the field’s lack of forward momentum on many issues relative to teaching and learning; on the other, they provide hope for renewed consideration of the ideas and theories contained within their pages as we attempt to make better use of them a second time around.

Curriculum Windows: What Curriculum Theorists of the 1960s Can Teach Us About Schools and Society Today, pp. 35–52 Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved. 35 36 L. ANN FISH

The work of Louise M. Berman, in particular, has significant implications for those of us working with curriculum today. I will admit I greedily snatched her book, New Priorities in the Curriculum, when given the chance. I had barely heard of Berman, I am embarrassed to say, and only grabbed it because of my own interest in process-oriented curriculum. I can’t say that in my coursework in my doctoral program anyone has ever given me a selection of hers to read or suggested I study her further. My unfamiliarity with her work became all the more reason to want to study it, along with my personal interest in what other women in the curriculum field have had to say. As I began reading New Priorities, I was struck by how many of the ideas could have been speaking to our current education system and the curriculum challenges it frequently presents. Berman (1968) was aware of the “unwieldy set of challenges” faced by curriculum workers of her day given the “newness, imprecision, and complexity” of the field (p.v). She believed dilemmas arise out of conflict between personal ideologies and constant shifts in curriculum priorities, which can only be resolvedS with a combination of “mental agility and physical stamina” that most people do not normally possess. Key to understanding Berman’s newF priorities for curriculum rests in these two ideas: (1) that our system of educating youth, and living life in general, is fraught withO complexities; and (2) resolving challenges to have a satisfying and meaningful life, both within and outside of schools, requires competencyO in making sense of one’s experiences. Both concepts are justR as relevant today. 3 Situating herself as the “chronic hopeful,” who believes learning should make a difference in the lives ofP youth, Berman suggests1 the constant search for priorities be based in two major ideas about curriculum:0 (1) it is ongoing rather than static, and (2) its substance must2 be related to human processes which students experienceP and study in a systematic manner. Berman (1968)A states that the book’s purpose is to broadly sketch what componentsI of the curriculum© could be if the goal of schooling is to develop a process-oriented person, one who is able to adapt to a variety of situations, always “analyzing, elaborating, and evaluating” in solving problems, one who is interested in the “possible rather than probable” (p. 9). She acknowledges the need to address some contradictory ideas in moving toward a curriculum construct, including: inviting both seriousness of thought and playfulness with ideas; being persuasive and clear about ideas while also inviting their testing; including both tried ideas and fresh ones; and being open to include concepts from many disciplines while being bounded so that priorities are created. She intentionally paints her suggestions in what she calls “broad strokes,” leaving the detail to be filled in as persons or situations require, making it just as applicable today. The priorities of what and how schools should teach are based on fundamental assumptions about human beings, what Berman (1968) refers to Schools in Process 37 as an “adequate view of man,” a broad concept including a range of behaviors. Curriculum should provide opportunities to develop competencies based on this view and must prioritize and emphasize them to have meaning and avoid becoming irrelevant. The notion of persons in process is predicated on the idea of man as ongoing system of energy, continually bringing new insights in line with her self and world views. The goal of education includes the individual as a person both in process and of process, helping man to harness his energies for the betterment of self and society. Berman makes clear the assumption that individuals are responsible not only for their own mental and physical well-being, but that they also have an obligation to nurture the human community in which persons have concern for one another. She identifies four basic assumptions that lead to process orientation, which she categorizes as spatial transcendence, intentional temporality, integrity of selfhood, and thinking-feeling cohesion. S Spatial Transcendence F Spatial transcendence involves preparation forO unknown circumstances and situations. A person who has practiced this principle can relate to and work with others she meets and can seeO possibilities inherent within a space. In the 1960s, this was exemplified in the space3 race. Berman (1968) predicted the necessity of thisR skill in the near future, as “in addition to learning to live on thisP planet, many persons1 will be learning to adapt to life outside of earth” (p. 3). 0 Although we are Pnot, as Berman (1968)2 and many in that prodigious decade imagined, living elsewhere within the solar system, we are building “new worlds”A here on earth. In recent decades, we have seen a trend toward globalizationI in business,© government, and in technology, in effect creating a world that is changing at a pace never before seen with significant political, social, and cultural implications. In preparing children today for futures beyond prediction, schools must provide opportunities for valuing the similarities and differences in others and for taking initiative toward improvement of surroundings in order for them to view themselves as contributors to dynamic settings.

Intentional Temporality

Berman (1968) stresses the need to be aware of the meaning and significance of time, both in an internalized or psychological sense and in an external sense. In learning about the ordering and classification of events 38 L. ANN FISH and the measurement of time, Berman emphasizes application of “ethical purpose” to those understandings. In so doing, the individual becomes aware of using time in a planned or intentional manner and is satisfied with how that time was used. This “intentional temporality” is significant if “the moment of now is to count and successive moments of now are to add up to something of worth to the individual” (p. 4). Berman suggests allowing children to be involved in how their own time is to be used, with balance between activity and meditation. Another key understanding is the destructibility of time: it cannot be recreated. Attention must be given to “the realities of birth, life, and death” as justification for the purposeful use of time—a timeless recommendation with merits today. As we become more aware of the impact of life and death on a planetary scale, it is more important now than ever that we give thought to how we use our time in ways that promote or destroy ecological well being. Recent trends toward “going green” and practices that promote sustainability are rooted in awareness of intentional temporality, and hold promiseS for slow- ing the rate of destruction of the world’s diverse ecosystems and human impact on climate change. But beyond the sustainability Fof resources and thinking ecologically about issues of environment alone, our youth must recognize the far-reaching consequences of theirO short-term actions and intentionally plan for improving quality of life for themselves now and for future generations. The impetus for schoolsO today is to heed Berman’s call to engage students in work that has Rpersonal and societal m3eaning, so that productivity and problem solving replace the disinterest and disassociation that often accompanies inadequateP reflection on the1 use of time. 20 Integrity of ASelfhoodP The relatedI concept of integrity© of selfhood is a necessary component to transcending space and making intentional use of time. Berman (1968) was clearly influenced by the existentialism of the 1950s and1960s, in which meaning follows the acceptance of morality, when she describes the self that faces situations with “honesty and inward rightness” (p. 3). The development of individual selfhood is a process of “living comfortably within [one’] own skin” and requires grappling with conflict, as individuality is often lost when trying to “fit into the skin of another” (p. 6). Berman stresses the need to gather courage and resources in developing in ways unique to one’s self, and warns that without adequate freedom, one may fall into conformity or rebellion. Instead, constraints and boundaries, which are required within a society based on man’s interdependence, should foster creativity and integrity. In particular, schools should strive to be spaces that nurture and maintain integrity of individuals to the benefit Schools in Process 39 of all. In a society that greatly values the importance of the individual, only groups that recognize and rely on each individual’s unique potential are truly functioning as a group. The need to emphasize development of individual selfhood is no less of an imperative today. Although as a society we claim to value the individual, our schools are often bewildering paradoxes of inconsistent practice. We have little explicit emphasis within the curriculum on fostering creativity or integrity, and implicitly only as individual educators believe in its value. For example, we want our children to learn how to collaborate with others, yet we encourage competition. We want our children to be well rounded, but we ignore areas of their development that lie outside of athletics and academics. Thinking-Feeling Cohesion S Thinking and feeling happen simultaneously, although we may not be aware of both processes and only one may be outwardly Fvisible at a given time. Berman (1968) describes thinking as what occurs when trying to fill gaps in knowledge and includes analyzing, generalizing,O imagining, redefining, predicting, judging, and developing fluency. It is critical to be aware of different modes of thinking so oneO can intentionally select and apply them to the situation at hand.R Feelings are an unintentional3 response to a situation, a definition Berman crafts from borrowed ideas. The mutually beneficial relationshipP between thinking and1 feeling occurs when feeling is the catalyst for the application of further0 modes of thinking, an important step in transforming thoughts2 into actions and products. Similarly, emotion orP passion that is uninformed by thought can lead to ignorance andA thoughtless action. FeelingsI have never had the same© gravitas as thinking, in the 1960s or in any other decade. Although schools teach children to think, they tend not to teach feeling. In fact, schools ought to be teaching thinking and feeling together. In so doing, better thinking would result and groups that have traditionally been denied the right to express emotion due to cultural expectations and gender would benefit.

Humans in Process

Ultimately, Berman’s (1968) curriculum priorities are based on a view of humans as process-oriented beings, a view that embodies certain personality elements such as dynamism, motion, and responsibility that enable one to live in and contribute to the world. Berman assumes that it 40 L. ANN FISH is “good” to have some degree of process orientation and that all people can have it, especially if cultivated. Schools tend to focus on what has happened and what students have learned rather than reflection on applying learning to future contexts or to a present problem. Berman (1968) very correctly identified the need for schools to be oriented toward the future as the world continues to be an ever-changing place no matter the decade. Berman identifies eight particular skills that should be given priority in school programs. Called process skills due to their ongoing and developmental nature, they are relevant and applicable to a wide range of situations and settings. They are: perceiving, communicating, loving, decision making, knowing, patterning, creating, valuing. In each chapter, Berman (1968) outlines a basic definition, components, practical suggestions, and hypotheses for further testing for each process skill. Knowing it would be an impossible task, even for this “chronic hopeful” to take on the entirety of New Priorities in oneS chapter of this book, I decided to select one chapter for further focus, a slice of the past that is transferable to the present and which mightF inform the future. Berman’s chapter, “Creating: Reaching for the Unprecedented” immediately resonated with me for several reasons.O Creating is an important theme in my life. I have always identified with the act of creating and the label of “being creative.” As a classroomO teacher working with students identified as gifted and talented, muchR of my practice involves3 guiding children through the creative process. As a scholar of curriculum theory, I have interest in the value of Pbecoming a creative being,1 not only for the individual, but also for a democratic society, of 0which schools are a crucial part. Finally, the topicP of creativity is very2 current, almost trendy, and I feel a mixture of both disappointment with how little has been advanced since the 1960sA and hope that we are on the verge of a turning point in its illuminationI for the future. ©

CREATING: REACHING FOR THE STILL UNPRECEDENTED

In many ways I was both excited by the content of this chapter and also unprepared for the reactions it caused. Soon my own thoughts began to fill the pages, as paragraphs started to take on more of my underlining and asterisks, each margin filling with my kudos, comments, and questions. I was in “the flow”—“the state in which people are so intensely involved in an activity that nothing else seems to matter, the experience itself is so enjoyable that people will do it even at a great cost, for the sheer sake of doing it” (Csikszentmihalyi, 1990). Of course, there were occasional moments of being jarred back into the reality that this was Schools in Process 41 meant for a different era, the mention of drug use and occasional references to traditional female gender roles. But even those dated contexts could shed light on current issues with a little creativity. In fact, the description of artificial means of altering one’s view through LSD reminded me of Sir Ken Robinson’s argument in a recent TED Talk that we are currently anesthetizing our children through medication to calm symptoms of ADHD, to their detriment, when we should be waking their minds through aesthetic experience (Robinson, 2010). Berman (1968) sets the tone for her chapter on creating with a description of, what is for her, the present landscape of the human spirit: an “uneasy truce between a bland, wearisome life” and the spirit’s “need for refreshment of innovation.” Against the backdrop of “lassitude” and “ennui” that frame so many interactions between persons and ideas, few have been able to transcend beyond only occasional glimpses of the worth and satisfaction found in the act of creating. Man’s “true humanness,” Berman believes, is witnessed in the process of creating. SuchS an important personal revelation, one that has impact not only for the individual but also for the outside world, cannot be left to chance.F Berman offers hope that this can be the heritage of all, not just the domain of the few. Berman (1968) mentions the concept of a self-renewingO society. There is a continuous process of dying and rebirth occurring daily, which is not necessarily unique to American society. ThisO self-renewal process occurs as the individual creates. Individual self-renewalR is essential 3to a democracy, in which success for all depends on individuals reaching full potential. Citizens must learn, individuallyP and collectively, to “refine,1 change, modify” ideas in interest of discovery and development.0 As I read Berman’sP (1968) account for the2 need to better understand and prioritize the act of creating, I began to wonder why if it is something so near and dear to me,A why others might not see its value. It seems obvious that the developmentI and growth of the individual© is beneficial for society. I believe most people, regardless of discipline, would agree. Berman believes we must, as a society, question whether we are backing up in practice this understanding that who a person is and what they create matters. For persons to become “creative beings” there must be more study and attention given to the topic. Berman (1968) speaks of some increased interest in the phenomenon during the 1950s and 1960s, but little growth or change in attempts to understand or implement practical suggestions for schools. In fact, the late 1950s and early 1960s brought a shift in social thought away from the desirability of the mature person to emphasis on the dynamic, growing, ever-changing self. There was great concern, in some circles, that pressures to conform were not encouraging individual- ism and creativity. But this seems to have had little lasting consequence for the school setting. 42 L. ANN FISH

In large part that remains true today. Although we have recently begun to see renewed interest in the topic of creativity, action has come mainly out of areas outside of education, such as business and manufacturing. The value of creating is still mostly viewed as a means to an end: preparing individuals to be creative to add value to the workplace, as if creativity can be viewed as an investment and creative persons, a commodity. Far less popular is the idea of creativity and development of the self for its own sake, as a part of person in process. Today as in the 1960s, those who have the potential to be highly creative often fall into habits unproductive to their own development, slipping into “adaptive and adjustive” ways. Berman notes that these behaviors are easier to manage than those that come with innovation and creativity. I have to wonder for whom? We haven’t taught persons, especially youth, to cope with the “realities of the creative process,” nor have we taught society to cope with the realities of creativeS persons. Total Process, Total Person F What is it some people have that allows them to constantly renew themselves to create, to be creative? In the 1950s and 1960s,O John Gardner wrote about the contribution of individual innovators in renewing societies, work from which Berman draws heavily in her ideasO about creating. In Gardner’s book, Self Renewal: The Individual And The Innovative Society 3(1964), Gardner discusses the importance of optimism,R persistence, risk taking, experimentation, courage, resiliency, andP love in the process of 1self-renewal. Gardner believed the exploration of our range of potentials0 must be pursued systematically, with their development resulting from a dialogue between individuals and their environment.P He identified2 several attitudes present in such persons Aincluding willingness to takes risks, capability of giving and receiving love,I and commitment© to health of the body and mind. Similarly, Berman (1968) speaks of creativity as a total process involving the total person. Going beyond merely having original thoughts or fluency of ideas, Berman’s definition of the creative process in toto involves the interrelated skills of cognition, emotion, and moral reasoning, along with the involvement of the physical body. As she notes, “all are brought to bear upon a creative act” (p. 139).

Intellect

Berman (1968) suggests that creativity requires different intellectual skills at different points throughout the process. These include skills that “precipitate wondering, being sensitive to problems, being able to build Schools in Process 43 upon the idea of another, being able to express many ideas relevant to a topic in rapid succession, and being original” (p. 140). These are in line with what I have encountered in programs for the gifted and talented, which focus heavily on fluency, elaboration, novelty, and flexibility of thought. But Berman makes the distinction that fluency ought to occur in “rapid succession,” a distinction with which I disagree. Our current education system commits what I feel are two disservices to the development of creativity in our young people: (1) schools tend to privilege academic knowledge above all other forms of intelligence, resulting in what Robinson has termed, the “academic illusion” (Robinson, 2011); and (2) so-called measures of intelligence are limited in scope to logico-deductive reasoning and propositional knowledge. A person who can fire off ideas rapidly would likely do well in light of these considerations. But if the cultivation of intellectual skills—and through that process creativity—is to be the domain of all, then we must break free of past paradigms that associate intelligence with rapidity of thoughtS at a minimum. In my opinion, quality of creative thought trumps quantity, and may take a longer time to cultivate and express. OF Emotions O One of Berman’s (1968) most signifRicant observations,3 and one that is still overlooked in schools, is the inseparable link between emotion and thought. Creating requires bothP intense involvement1 and internal dedication, often leading to varied emotions ranging 0from “frustration, dissatisfaction, unhappiness”P to “positive feelings2 and joy” (p. 141). As such, those in the act of creating must be aware of the emotions that accompany and necessitateA creativity and must be prepared for this range of feelings. In my experienceI with students,© positive coping skills must be explicitly modeled and taught such as: knowing what triggers creative flow for the individual and what patterns in thinking constitute barriers to the process, guiding the student in how to pattern and select new ideas, how to refine them, and how to evaluate their merits. When emotions result from being in flow, coping skills are needed to deal with the emotion saturation brings. They can keep focused on the creative process rather than abandon it. Saturation or even obsession with an idea leads to constant thinking about it, getting caught somewhere between the conscious and subconscious mind. Although this may appear serendipitous, it actually is not. Berman (1968) believes “serendipities do not usually come about in a vacuum. More frequently, they are delayed reactions to previous immersion in a subject or problem” (p. 141). I disagree slightly since serendipities occur as a result of luck or chance, whereas solving problems 44 L. ANN FISH through immersion or saturation requires a spark to unite two unrelated ideas. This is crucial because this speaks to need for providing opportunity for immersion and for creating time and space for catalysts to emerge. I found it surprising that Berman would critique the discovery method, because it is still viewed favorably today by those believing they are pursuing a quasi-constructivist teaching model. But her criticism is more a distinction between what we would call open or authentic inquiry and guided inquiry using teacher-selected content or questions. In this distinction, Berman validates what I have frequently witnessed, highly creative children become bored with discovery if the process used is not relevant to student interests. In his book Drive, Daniel Pink (2009) examines three elements of motivation: autonomy, mastery, and purpose. Autonomy refers to the desire to direct our own lives; mastery, the urge to become better at something that matters to us; and purpose, the urge to do what it is we do in the service of something or someone larger than ourselves. Discovery for discovery’s sake is not encouraging of creativity because it doesS not provide children with opportunity to pursue their own interests and self-select areas for further exploration. When on rare occasion we Fhear of children who undertake extraordinarily creative pursuits, such as the boy who, at age 14, became the youngest to achieve nuclear Ofusion, such discoveries are treated as exceptions rather than the rule. The fact that they are not considered ordinary is indicative of a largerO problem: these should not be one-off cases, pursued largely outside of schools by those fortunate3 enough to have adequate resources and support,R nor should they be the domain of those in special schools for theP top one or two percent1 of high achieving students, but should reflect common opportunity0 for all of our children and hold a place of Ppriority within all of our2 schools. Morality IA © Because our lives are so fragmented, we often do not give priority to the intense emotional involvement required of creating. Berman (1968) says, “each person must come to a full awareness of where his potential contributions might be and use his time, talents, and energies accordingly” (p. 143). The question becomes: is spreading ourselves too thin immoral? If one’s levels of contributions are constantly kept at an inconse- quential level, there can be no value for self or society, which is immoral. Wise is the person who prioritizes time as to filter and act upon “better than good” ideas and activities to satisfy his own needs and make a contribution to others. Because time and resource allocation is a very personal decision, the merits of doing so must be taught. At a 2005 commencement address at Stanford University, Steve Jobs, CEO of Apple Computer and of Pixar Animation Studios, reflected on Schools in Process 45 how facing the likelihood of his own death after being diagnosed with pancreatic cancer helped to focus him on what really mattered, creating: “I didn’t see it then, but it turned out that getting fired from Apple was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again, less sure about everything. It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods of my life” (Standford Report, 2005). Jobs’ words remind me of my own flight from my previous career in corporate multimedia development to pursue my true passion in the field of education. Such moral decisions about how to use one’s time and talents to benefit others and awaken within oneself fruitful periods of creativity should not necessarily require major life events. Instead, as Berman suggests, provisions must be made in schools to allow children to see from an early age that they will need to prioritize how time and energy should be spent.

Physical S Berman (1968) describes the often-overlooked physicalF component of creativity: O If one has been truly creative, something of the individual departs. Not only do the intellectual and emotional processesO become involved in the act of creation; the bodily processes also quicken. Tension often ensues. The culmination of the creative product usuallyR involves a relaxation3 of the physical processes which have steppedP up during creation. (p. 143)1 Anyone who has experienced being in the creative0 “flow” can relate to the feelings of excitementP and euphoria that2 often accompany the singular focus on creating. In creating, a great deal of physical or mental energy is exerted.A To avoid a certain level of physical stress and deteriora- tion of theI body, Berman (1968)© recommends balancing intense output with more relaxed modes of input. We do not often hear of classrooms in which meditation, rest, and rejuvenation are valued and given priority of time and space. But these are exactly the types of activities that need to occur if creativity is to be nurtured in schools.

School Practices: Berman’s Recommendations for Cultivating Creativity in Schools Berman (1968) believed specific school practices should be encouraged with conditions present to allow children to acquire behaviors necessary for fresh ideas and increased productivity, and that these tendencies would likely not come into being without explicit focus. To that end, schools must, she believed, provide experiences that “enhance some of 46 L. ANN FISH the singular behaviors which provide for creative production” and “encourage the totality of the creative process through experiences which may develop a variety of behaviors that are central to creativity” (p. 144).

Creating and Perceiving

Berman (1968) specified several concepts central to the creative process, but I believe she envisioned these as what schools ought to do as a minimum, leaving room for further flexibility of design. “Mode of perceiving” is a basic skill of learning to see in open-ended ways as fully as possible. Berman provides an example of visualization exercises in which students attempt to mentally note differences in their surroundings that have gone previously unnoticed. I think her idea could be expanded to the discussion of the importance of the arts in schools, the elimination of which she most likely did not imagine then. From the child’s perspective,S it is critical that the child have the opportunity to participate in the arts, to gain valuable practice in perception. Visual arts allowF children to perceive what they are looking at, the parts and interrelatedness of those parts. In music, a similar patterning of perceptionsO occurs with learning to read music, hearing and replicating notes, involving the auditory senses. In physical education classes, studentsO learn to perceive their world through a bodily kinesthetic Runderstanding. All of 3these are crucial to a developing individual’s wholeness and to developing skills of perception as related to the totality Pof creative growth. 1 Within our academic core subjects, we have0 to seriously question whether we are valuingP and teaching skills2 related to perception. With the advent of common standards, we are privileging some forms of knowledge and perceptionA over others. That is not to say that commonly agreed upon standardsI might not be in ©the best interests of our children and society, as they may ultimately ensure greater consistency in what is taught from state to state and school to school, but perhaps those standards should be inclusive of more process-oriented skills and dispositions. Gifted education, thankfully, remains largely based in the affective and intellectual domains, emphasizing development of healthy habits of mind within the individual for the betterment of the larger world. Instead of having hundreds of content standards from which to choose, as a teacher of “gifted students,” I have skills, concepts, and processes I want my students to explore, free from the rigid structure and outcome-based lessons that often plague my regular education colleagues. As a teacher, I feel liberated in the reality that my classroom is a dynamic environment in which the best lessons arise from “teachable moments” and discovery based on student interest—those unexpected opportunities for learning that Schools in Process 47 emerge in the course of classroom life. In gifted programming, we often cultivate the creative or novel ways of approaching a task or activity, which makes defining specific responses or behaviors in advance nearly impossible. My students make tremendous gains in development of their selves as individuals, but this commitment to the creative certainly should not be exclusive to gifted education.

Creating and Error

Berman also discusses the psychological support needed to foster the growth of the creative individual. As such, teachers must become sponsors to creative students in giving direction and guidance when appropriate and providing opportunity for like-minded persons to work together in supportive ways. The psychologically supportive teacher also creates an environment in which students are given freedom to make and Slearn from mistakes. Berman speaks of the importance of fear not stymieing the development of a good idea or not allowing those new ideasF to surface in the first place. In my work with high ability children, I see all too often those who come to classroom afraid to take intellectual Orisks or give an opinion that may, at best, displease the teacher, and at worst, challenge the status quo. When I have children in my care who exhibitO these attitudes at the age of six or seven, I fear we may have already severely impacted3 their creative development. Those early experiencesR are difficult to “untrain,” but that untraining is often what is necessaryP for fresh ideas0 to1 begin to emerge. Creating andA InternalP Locus of Evaluation2 One of IBerman’s (1968) most© poignant observations that still rings true today, is “teachers are accustomed to evaluating the work of others. Yet, if creativity is prized, increased attention must be given to helping individuals develop their own loci of evaluation” (p. 147). In our success- oriented culture, there is often a reluctance to try new ideas or open one’s self up to potential criticism from others. When persons are in process of creating, they are constantly evaluating the cost-benefit analysis of is this worth it? Should I start over or stop pursuing it altogether? In effect, a person who realizes his or her creative potential must possess two different sets of skills: one that combats the internal voice of doubt and one that can endure external criticism. In schools, greater attention should be given to promoting internal standards and growing the individual’s repertoire of coping strategies. Emphasis on extrinsic motivation and praise does little to foster internal 48 L. ANN FISH judgment and creates a reliance on the teacher or adult as an evaluator or judge of individual action. Csikszentmihalyi (1990) believes

some individuals have developed such strong internal standards that they no longer need the opinion of others to judge whether they have performed a task well or not. The ability to give objective feedback to oneself is in fact the mark of the expert. (p. 181)

A critical question for all educators who heed the call to foster creativity in their students is how do we get children to trust their internal voice, to value their emotional interiors not just within a particular curriculum but also within and beyond it? I am fond of saying often to my own students, “you are the judge of good enough, not I.” It is a saying that I hope both inspires and empowers them in their pursuit of creative endeavors. SCHOOLS OF THE FUTURE: BERMAN’S PREDICTIONSF FORS NOW John Gardner (1964), whose work Berman (1968) cited in her justification of the need for prioritizing creating, said of educatingO for renewal, We are beginning to understand how to educateO for renewal but we must deepen that understanding. If we indoctrinate the young people in an elab- orate set of fixed beliefs, we are ensuringR his early obsolescence.3 The alternative is to skills, attitudes, habits of mind and the kinds of knowledge and understanding that will be Pthe instruments of continuous1 change and growth on the part of the young person. Then we0 will have fashioned a system that providesA forP its own continuous renewal.2 (p. 21) New MediaI and Technology© Berman (1968) made many hopeful predictions for creating schools of the future. Recognizing the growing complexity of the changing world and the unprecedented rate of growth of emerging technologies, she envisioned educational settings much different from the classrooms of the 1960s. Most striking is her prediction that, “with new media available to today’s and tomorrow’s schools, education has the opportunity to provide a setting in which children and youth can develop and test their own ideas” (p. 150). As I read this, I wondered what she might have thought these new technologies might look like? Surely she could not have imagined the advent of the Internet and the Web 2.0 influence on instruction in classrooms today. And Berman was not alone. Stanford University said of television, Schools in Process 49

Ten years from now, [it] will carry some part of the teaching of the great majority of school children in this nation, and is also expected that the television will make available at home to students of whatever age, a large part of the college curriculum. (Engineering Technology Education, 1985, p. 22)

The foresight in these predictions was and remains extremely powerful. In the 1960s, especially in cities and college towns, the act of creating was exploding through new advances in photography and the graphic arts; the sharing of ideas was expanding through free press movements and new communications technologies, such as television and satellite. The real-time broadcasting of events and widespread reach of advertising contributed to the revolutionary climate of the civil rights activism that characterized the decade. As new media began playing a larger role in children’s lives, the need for consideration of its role in helping society reach its creative potential grew more pressing. Today children and youth have an unprecedented ability toS use technology to create. In my decade of working as an educator, I have seen an evolution from personal computers to Internet-based, wireless,F and now cloud computing. I have watched, rather enthusiastically, as document cameras replaced overhead projectors and streamingO media replaced dusty old VHS tapes and DVDs. I have activelyO participated in interactive whiteboards replacing chalkboards. As I write this, I am beginning to see iPads and book readers replace notebRook paper and textbooks.3 In all of these instances, I have watched schools struggle to keep1 up, both with the financial costs and in terms ofP training, support, and implementation. As fast as new technologies are growing, so0 too is the “digital divide” between those who haveP access to them and2 those who do not. And far more odious than the issue of physical accessibility is the resulting inequity of education the ItechnologyA gap is creating© among our youth. This points to a greater need for our schools to not only make these technologies physically accessible and equally distributed to all students, but also to make good decisions about how technology is used. Technology is frequently being used to deliver traditional content in new ways. Instead of emphasizing the use of technology to provide skills needed for employment after graduation or as a means of improving academic achievement, technology should be used in ways that foster creating new ways of thinking, regardless of specific forms of technological trends or innovations. If as Berman suggests, schools are to be places where children can develop and test ideas, then teacher training should shift toward teaching innovatively, developing the processes of creativity in students and teachers. Otherwise, as Gardner (1964) points out, we will be educating children for obsolescence, as today’s innovations become yesterday’s news. 50 L. ANN FISH

Language and Experiences

Berman also predicted qualitative differences in both the language used in classrooms and in the experiences planned for classrooms. She wrote of a language of support and concern in which teachers would foster problem solving and stimulate creative thinking. As I read, I began to wonder what this language might sound like. Do I currently use it? Do others? Is it the language of critical and creative thinking that is often exclusively the domain of gifted classrooms and programs? Or is it in the language of our standards and assessments that often focus on higher order thinking but require demonstrating those processes in fixed, rigidly defined products? It my opinion, the language we now have is one of ends rather than means, of product rather than process. We have taken Bloom’s taxonomy and placed the top three levels, analysis, synthesis, and evaluation (Bloom, 1956) on a pedestal, inserting verbs like “compare and contrast” or “synthesize” into our lesson plans without equal consideration to theS affective (Krathwohl, Bloom, & Masia, 1973) or psychomotor (Simpson, 1972). The nonverbal, symbolic, sensory, and emotional languages areF missing from our schools. And how are the experiences Berman (1968) spokeO of fairing? Are our students being given the freedom to develop and investigate their own problems, to make and learn from mistakes,O to practice multiple forms of perception, and to development internRal loci of evaluation?3 I worry that these practices are as elusive now as ever and are found only in isolated classrooms around the country,P as situations and 1individual educators allow. They are not reflected in the dominant0 narrative of our schools today any more thanP they were in Berman’s2 day. If the “goal of school is to help children live creatively,” then these experiences are desperately needed, and Anot just in isolated spaces such as classrooms for the gifted and talented.I Instead, they should© be the domain of all.

FINAL THOUGHTS

Schools are no more spaces for the creation of individuals than they were 50 years ago. Worse yet, our recent push toward a high stakes testing culture is creating individuals who are norm-referenced and where failure is seen as an end or final judgment rather than an integral part of the learning process. And when we do speak of creativity it schools, it is alarmingly focused on its relevance to business and industry. All too often, it is used to describe a set of dispositions, skills, or ways of thinking that will enable young people to get jobs and innovate for the aims of business and economy. There is a lack of thought about its usefulness in developing the Schools in Process 51 whole individual for the betterment of society, as Berman believed was essential 50 years ago. This did not occur overnight, but has been a gradual process of co-opt- ing creativity. In an example from the 1980s, a book entitled How Creative Are You? makes the following prediction:

We are now confronting an accelerating rate of change in new technologies, socio-economic trends, and new attitudes and values. The “enervating eighties” promise to bring us, among other problems and challenges: (1) economic uncertainty, (2) rising costs, (3) scarcity of resources, (4) sharper competition, (5) a greater influence of international events in domestic affairs, (6) quicker paced demographic changes, (7) rising consumer discontent, (8) greater emphasis on the quality of work life, (9) the specter of more government regulation, and (10) growing employee discontent with the corporate world of work. (Raudsepp, 1981, p. 98) Viewing creativity as response to economic woes and workplaceS dissatisfaction is an incomplete and underdeveloped concept. In so doing, the larger issue of the development of the individual and Fthe impact that development has on the betterment of society for all is missing. We must move our collective mindset and practices of our Oschools away from skill- ing for the needs of business and the economyO and toward self-renewal. Like Berman (1968), I am chronically hopeful that it is not too late. If we implement new priorities now, thenR we can achieve what3 we have not been able to over the last 50 years. We may already1 be in the throes of a sort of paradigm shift aboutP how creativity works and why it matters. As with all such shifts from “conventional” wisdom0 to new ways of thinking about old problems,P the process can be painful2 and take time. If we are, then it is a potentially exciting time to be in education. I wonder, what might the schoolsA of tomorrow look like and will I be around to see them? I hope so. I would like very much© to witness children and youth developing and practicing creative ways of thinking not so much in the hopes of securing a job, but from a perspective of helping to solve real problems that would improve the quality of life for us all—in the pursuit of “a meaningful and satisfying life.”

REFERENCES

Berman, L. (1968). New priorities in the curriculum. Columbus, OH: C. E. Merrill. Bloom B. S. (1956). Taxonomy of Educational Objectives, Handbook I: The Cognitive Domain. New York, NY: David McKay. Csikszentmihalyi, M. (1990). Flow: The Psychology of Optimal Experience. New York, NY: Harper & Row. 52 L. ANN FISH

Gardner, J. (1964). Self-renewal: The individual and the innovative society. New York, NY: W. W. Norton. Krathwohl, D. R., Bloom, B. S., & Masia, B. B. (1973). Taxonomy of educational objectives, the classification of educational goals. Handbook II: Affective domain. New Yo r k , N Y: D a vi d M c K a y. National Research Council. (1985). Engineering education and practice in the United States: Engineering technology education. Washington, DC: The National Acade- mies Press. Robinson, K. (2010, Oct). Changing education paradigms [Video file]. Retrieved from http://www.ted.com/talks/ ken_robinson_changing_education_paradigms.html Simpson E. J. (1972). The classification of educational objectives in the psychomotor domain. Washington, DC: Gryphon House. Pink, D. (2009). Drive: The surprising truth about what motivates us. New York, NY: Penguin Group. Raudsepp, E. (1981). How creative are you? New York, NY: Putnam. Robinson, K. (2011). Out of our minds: Learning to be creative. New York, NY: Cap- stone. S Stanford Report. (2005). “You’ve got to find what you love,” Jobs says. Retrieved from http://news.stanford.edu/news/2005/june15/jobs-061505.htmlF OO PR 13 P 20 IA © CHAPTER 4

NO MORE BROKEN WINDOWS

Transforming the Lives of Urban School Children FS M. A. WEBB Mary A. WebbOO INTRODUCTIONPR 13 My journey to selecting James Herndon’s (1968)0 book The Way It Spozed To B e begins with myP absence during the first2 few sessions of class, as I was recovering from a recent surgery and could not drive to Oxford, Ohio, located aboutIA an hour from my home in Cincinnati. During my absence the group was presented with a ©list of curriculum scholars from which we could select an author. Had I been in class I am sure I might have selected a well-known scholar. On my preferred list were John Goodlad, Jonathan Kozol, Joseph Schwab, and Herbert Kohl. But since I am an African American scholar in what I hope is the final year of my doctoral studies in educational leadership, I began to explore the selection of an African American writer. Ultimately, my selection of Herndon was fueled by the notion that historically, the work of African American scholars suffers from an ongoing marginalization.

Curriculum Windows: What Curriculum Theorists of the 1960s Can Teach Us About Schools and Society Today, pp. 53–76 Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved. 53 54 M. A. WEBB

I also wanted to choose an author whose book was relevant to my own work and practice as an educator. As I have proceeded from our K-12 through graduate educational system, I have found an overwhelming dominance of the Euro-American perspective in research. My studies here at Miami University have afforded me the opportunity to engage in publication, research, and discourse of curricula that is relevant, meaningful, and that affirms the African American experience. My scholarly interests rest in culturally relevant pedagogy and critical race theory. So, since I was not in class and due to the size of our class all of the popular, well-known scholars quickly vanished from the list, Dr. Poetter decided that because our class was so large (everyone was excited about the possibility of being involved in a published writing project) he needed to expand the pool of authors in order for each of us to have a chapter for this curriculum project. As a result, he introduced more books from the “Romantics.” While still recovering from surgery, I got an e-mail from Dr. Poetter with the list of the authors identified as “Romantics.”S That list included not only the authors’ names but also the title of the books. The e-mail read: F

They were often later referred to as the ‘romantics’ Obecause they wrote in a distinctive, narrative-like, first person style/way that brought classrooms and conflicts alive for the average reader and Othe scholar. All of them wrote about the plight of students and teachersR in classrooms across3 America. As I read through the listP I immediately noticed1 the title The Way It Spozed To Be. I thought this sounded like an0 interesting title and the phrasing suggested that the book might be filled with things that someone from my cultureP would say. The title intrigued2 me, and I was hooked. I wanted to studyA something exciting and relevant to my practice as an urban middleI school mathematics© teacher. So, I immediately e-mailed back that I wanted this title. Little did I know, until I actually ordered the book and began to read it, that the author James Herndon was actually a White man writing about issues prevalent not only in schools of the 1960s but schools today in 2012 as we attempt to educate the historically disadvantaged students in urban classrooms. This book exposes the conflict between image and reality, between the way things “spozed to be” and the way they are. As an educator in an urban school district (North College Hill) located just outside of Cincinnati, Ohio, I hear the word “spozed” often, both in my work at school and in my community. After Dr. Poetter explained that Herndon was one of the romantic writers of the 1960s, I found myself even more curious about the author. I immediately ordered three of his books: The Way It Spozed To Be (1968), How to Survive in Your Native Land No More Broken Windows 55

(1971), and Notes From A Schoolteacher (1985). A funny thing happened when I ordered these great reads. I purchased the book The Way It Spozed to Be from Amazon for $1.99. However, the cost to ship it to me was $3.99! After reading the books, I felt like I had found several diamonds after searching through a bag of semi-precious stones. Incredible reading. I reacted to The Way It Spozed To Be with an immediate shock of recognition. Mr. Herndon’s experiences still ring true to this day. How was it that this veteran teacher on the outskirts of San Francisco in 1965 knew so much about students in 2012? And about me? Although this book was written in 1965, I would dare say that you could look in any American school today and see the same kinds of things happening for the students and with teachers, and particularly for students and teachers of color. It seems that I have traveled the same road some 30-40 years later. It reminds me of the interlude to the 60s TV show Dragnet. I have altered it to fit this writing: “The story you are about to read is true somewhere in an American school. Only the names have been changed to protect theF innocent.”S The Romantics O James Herndon along with authors such as George Dennison, Herbert Kohl, and Jonathan Kozol et al., are consideredO to be radical reformers of the 1960s. These educators advocatedR for child-centered3 schools. These schools were characterized by the freedom of students to discover, direct, and control their own learning,P which might result1 in noisy classrooms that sometimes appeared untidy and disorganized.0 The teaching/learning process is not controlledP by mandated curriculum2 or standardized testing but rather by meeting students where they are. This new genre of educational literatureA called for a transformation of the bureaucracy that administersI schools and the humaniza© tion of the teaching and learning process. It is said that romanticism has influenced political ideology, inviting engagement with the causes of the poor and oppressed and with ideals of social emancipation and progress (http://www.open.edu/openlearn/history- the-arts/culture/philosophy/schools-thought/legacy-the-romantics). James Herndon’s work fits this definition without question. The Way It Spozed To Be (1968) is Herndon’s first book, written as a narrative of his first year of teaching in a poor, segregated junior high school in a California city. It chronicles his passion for teaching students to read, his desire to use reading as a transformative process, his frustration with a school system that perpetuates hegemony, and his struggle against maintaining the status quo, which ultimately leads to the eventual nonrenewal of his teaching contract for “poor classroom management.” 56 M. A. WEBB

Who was James Herndon?

James Herndon (1926-1990) was a California junior high school educator for over 25 years and before his retirement served as president of the local teachers’ union. In addition, he was also the author of five books. His most notable two memoirs of teaching, The Way It Spozed to Be and Notes from a Schoolteacher, established him as one of the prominent voices of the school reform movement of the late 20th century. He began his teaching career in his early 40s after spending several years working in Europe for an American government agency (Herndon, 1971, p. 17). There he met and married his wife Fran. After learning that they were expecting their first child (Jay), they decided to move back to America. A few years later they had a second son (Jack).

The Travelogue S Herndon (1968) gives an account of his journey as a beginningF teacher learning to teach in an inner city public school in his book The Way It Spozed to Be. He highlights the highs and lows of his journey,O which took place at George Washington Junior High School (GW) 8 years prior to his writing the book. It describes the disheartening inadequacyO of the school system as well as his innovative efforts to teacRh his students to read.3 The art and practice of pedagogies of engagement are captured in this quote, from Education for Judgment by ChristensenP Garvin, and Sweet1 (1991): “To teach is to engage students in learning” (p. 6). The thesis0 of Herndon’s work and this chapter is thatP engaging students 2in learning is principally the responsibility of the teacher, who becomes less an imparter of knowledge and more a designerA and facilitator of learning experiences. Herndon was reprimandedI by school administrators’© because he refused to listen to the slew of racially tainted instructions and instead attempted to create a democratic learning environment in his classroom. Herndon describes George Washington Junior High (GW) as a “Negro school—about 98 percent Negro” (Herndon, 1968, p. 7). It was a school of defeated students whom the staff had named “The Tribe” because the group had “controlling characteristics not shared by all other such groups in America, characteristics which were really at the root of their actions, and from which they could not easily escape” (Herndon, 1968, p. 59). School culture dictates that when a new teacher arrives, well-intentioned colleagues let him know “what he’s spozed to do.” Instead of taking their advice, choosing to uphold the status quo and “the way it spozed to be,” Herndon chose a less traveled road that looked chaotic and messy but was actually realistic, relevant, and valuable while validating what No More Broken Windows 57 knowledge is important and who gets to decide what knowledge is of value. When Mr. Herndon tried to change one of the mindless routines of school that required students to copy a paragraph from the blackboard that most of the students could not read anyway, even the students responded by insisting that it wasn’t “the way it spozed to be!” The title of his first book emerged. His students were conditioned to the routinized, repetitious instruction that relied upon copying, recitation, and memorization of the facts. James Herndon was a teacher who utilized critical epistemology by refusing to accept the top-down curriculum. He abandoned the traditional classroom structures and allowed the students to set up their own reading program as individuals or in groups. Herndon tried to let his students read on their own in class, privately, stuff they liked, so that they could begin to catch up, and so that they could experience the joy of reading, and so that perhaps their lives could be transformed for the better. S America During the Era of the Romantics F This story actually started in the 1950s; SputnikO was launched by the Russians, which created a great sense of crisis at the realization that the Russians may have defeated us in the raceO for science and technology knowledge. Immediately, politiciansR blamed this failing3 on the Ameri- can educational system, claiming it wasn’t rigorous enough and that more attention needed to beP paid to mathematics1 and science education. As a result, schools and teachers came0 under attack. School “deform” (Pinar, 2012)P begins, then, in 2a displacement of military and scientific failure onto public education. The 1950s were also the beginning of the Aend of school segregation. In 1954, The U.S. Supreme Court heardI Brown vs. the Board© of Education of Topeka. This case looked at the issue of segregation and this time ruled that it was illegal to deny entry to a facility based on race and that a “separate but equal” educational system was unconstitutional and unjust. However, this ruling did not immediately end segregation, since we see schools like GW dominated by racist practices and gross inequities in the presence of funding and materials for learning. In the decade that followed, John F. Kennedy became president (1960). The Cuban Missile Crisis (1962) represented the Cold War confrontation between the United States and the Soviet Union. Kennedy was assassinated (1963), and the country’s political emphasis shifted to the Vietnam War and the Civil Rights movement (1964). President Johnson continued President Kennedy’s War on Poverty. Programs like Head Start, Job Corps, subsidized school lunches, and Title One began during this time 58 M. A. WEBB in an attempt to break the cycle of poverty and education (Schubert, Schubert, Thomas, & Carroll, 2002). At the same time, a National Curriculum Movement was initiated. The critics of the education system demanded more rigor and discipline to parallel its embrace of physical fitness. The nation’s security was at stake. It was described as the “the age of gold” for curriculum projects by Schubert et al. (2002) in Curriculum Books: The First Hundred Years (p. 148). Public and private funding for curriculum projects raced to an all-time high, which resulted in structured procedures and materials designed by subject-area curriculum specialists and scientists. These national curriculum projects constitute the beginning of the curriculum alignment process and of the reestablishment of outside control, signaling the great loss of autonomy over curriculum decisions as it was stripped from local teachers. Many educational reforms have been designed over the past 40 years to remove the professional discretion of teachers. Today in many schools, teachers are given a script (curriculum guide) that must be followed word-for-wordS in accordance with the mandated curriculum calendar. DisconnectingF the curriculum from students’ interests and teachers’ professional discretion ensures curriculum disconnect and pedagogical Omalaise. As a result, the interests of students and their teachers’ interest have little relevance. The more things change, the more they stay theO same, it seems. Schooling was inundated with “teacher-proof ” curricula, which failed to reach students, specifically the studentsR of color whom3 Herndon writes about. These curricula typifyP rote learning, mindless1 routines, and imposed discipline, which increased apathy and0 rebellion. Herndon illuminates the dialectic between perception and reality, between the way things “spozed to be”P and the way they are.2 Sadly enough, things have not changed veryA much. Schools today are still places of mindless routines that destroyI our students’ curiosities,© senses of adventure, and love for learning.

The Broken Window Theory

While reading Herndon’s story, I was reminded of “the broken window theory,” and I asked myself what the school considered important. Was it the curriculum, discipline, “The Word,” the characteristics of “The Tribe,” or “the way things are “spozed to be?” The broken window theory is based on research that found if a building has a broken window and it is not repaired, people see that no one cares enough to fix the window, and it will be the first building to have rocks thrown through the other windows. In the March (1982) edition of The Atlantic Monthly, James Q. Wilson and No More Broken Windows 59

George L. Kelling—writing about crime, policing, and neighborhood safety—wrote:

Consider a building with a few broken windows. If the windows are not repaired, the tendency is for vandals to break a few more windows. Eventu- ally, they may even break into the building, and if it’s unoccupied, perhaps become squatters or light fires inside. Or consider a sidewalk. Some litter accumulates. Soon, more litter accumulates. Eventually, people even start leaving bags of trash from take-out restaurants there or breaking into cars. (pp. 29-38)

For schools, the broken window theory is generally utilized to reclaim perceived losses in discipline and classroom order (“one person chews gum, and the school might burn down!”). However, I would dare to suggest that the focus on discipline as a precursor to learning has a profound impact on the teacher and school’s curriculum and practices of instruction. In terms of discipline, the theory is that less serious, small problemsS should be dealt with in order to prevent more serious ones. By allowingF the small problems such as chewing gum, cursing, yelling out in class, being tardy, uniform violations, talking back to the teacher, disruptingO the classroom through behavior that is not acceptable, and so forth, to go unaddressed, students believe that disorder and chaos areO a normal part of school (“the way its spozed to be”) which will ultimately result in more serious problems. Fixing windows as soon as they are brokenR sends a message:3 vandalism will not be tolerated. When inappropriateP behavior is 1demonstrated in the classroom and if the teacher does not address 0it, the behavior is encouraged and will spread from one student to another and from one classroom to another. “It is clear,P although unmentioned,2 that the main issue for that school year (asA it always seems in the secondary schools), is not primarily one of educationI but of “classroom© control’” (Herndon, 1968, p. 7). Hern- don (1968) thinks, “In order that learning may take place, Miss Bentley was saying, there must first be order” (p. 7). However, in Herndon’s (1968) text, the principals, Mr. Grisson, Miss Bentley, along with the coach, the substitute teacher, the consultant teacher, and his colleagues themselves constitute the broken windows in the setting. They believed that unaddressed problems would lead one to think that disorder was the norm, which would result in more problems. They saw noise, disorder, chaos, and anarchy as the problems. They were obstinate about the linear progression between order and learning. Order was paramount and one of the school’s core values. But Herndon did not see any of these things as a problem. “I don’t want to get them under control, I want them to see some reason for getting themselves under control” (p. 113). 60 M. A. WEBB

When Herndon (1968) first encountered his students’ widespread disengagement and outright hostility toward him, and toward learning, he resisted the instinct to try to establish the kind of control that the administrators and others attempted to establish. Their approach lay in direct contrast to that of Herndon, who treated his students respectfully as human beings. In fact, he was fired because he refused to embrace this core value that keeping order was paramount. Instead, viewing the students like beautiful stained glass windows, Herndon saw glimpses of brilliance in his students and repeatedly tried to get them involved in learning by creating assignments and using readings that were interesting and personally valuable to them. Herndon illuminates the stained glass color and beauty of his students through his transformative leadership. His leadership in the classroom critiques inequitable practices and offers liberation and hope, not only of greater individual accomplishment, but more so of a better personal and community life. Until the outsiders (principals and colleagues alike) are willing to consider things from a different perspectiveS and look at the windows as potentially as brilliant stained glass insteadF of as merely broken—that is, as beautiful, not ugly—there can be no hope of appreciating the beauty that Herndon enjoyed fromO his position as his students’ facilitator of learning. And teachers today must view their students differently, as filled with potential,O not as doomed (Hilliard, 1995). This is one of the inspirational truthsR of Herndon’s experience13 and book. Windows of Education P 0 I want to extend Pthe metaphor and propose2 that the norms for teaching and learningA represent the “windows” of education in a school. If you want to knowI what the school values,© don’t ask the principal first, ask the students. Student voices are valuable resources in finding out about the school’s academic quality and climate. Observe whether students can read or are interested in the process of reading. If they are not, it is the equiva- lent of a broken window: a sign that no one cares whether students acquire basic academic skills. If a student fails to bring home assignments and books or brings home a paper that contains numerous misspellings or errors, it might be a signal that no one cares whether he gets it right or has the necessary intellectual materials or the fund of knowledge required for success. How serious was the school about setting and maintaining demanding standards for academic achievement for all of its students? Better yet, find out what the students think about their teacher, their classmates, the classroom scene. Is school freeing, open, democratic, inspiring, exciting, and learning-filled? Students can show you whether No More Broken Windows 61 these things are so or not, and their presence suggests beauty as opposed to brokenness. Herndon’s (1968) school district laid him off at midyear because he had not met the deadline for sending in his credential documents to the state; this left him uncertified to teach at GW. He was replaced by a substitute teacher (Mrs. A.) who had been working in the district. Upon his return, his students told him what they had done in his absence. Some were glad he was back while others wished Mrs. A had remained their teacher. One student’s account was that Mrs. A was a “better teacher and real teacher” because she made them do work. “They were learning spelling and sentences and all they was spozed to” (p. 67). Another of his classes told stories of plenty of board work and that the substitute teacher made each student keep a notebook. However, upon Herndon’s review of their spellers he found out that

Most of the spellers in 9D were empty of writing—all that copying of words and alphabetizing and putting in lines between syllables hadn’tS actually been done except by May, Josephine and Geraldine. TheirsF were all filled out to date, but were also all wrong. (p. 67) O As Herndon (1968) surveyed his classes, he discovered that his B classes were the type that knew how to playO school. They as a group and as individuals had developed a cultureR of compliance. 3 Both had divined the absolute key to getting through school, namely, that you must understand and somehowP satisfy the bureaucracy.1 One group understood it and trusted it; the other understood0 it and conned it. Either way the bureaucracyP was satisfied. (p. 58) 2 Class 7B IA © believed in what they’d been told ever since kindergarten—the school ideals, neatness, promptness, courtesy, hard work; perform according to them, they’d been told, and you could grow up to be President or at least a private secretary (private secretaries were, according to the girls, the most enviable girls alive) and enjoy the promise of middle-class America. (p. 58)

One of his other classes, 7H, could not read, which accounted for their disengagement in the learning process. In fact, the class mainly consisted of nonreaders, a detail no one shared with him during the new teachers’ meeting. His other challenging class, 9D, consisted of a group of what he describes as “the most mature of the school population, but also the most apathetic and disinterested and cynical about the entire range of school activities” (Herndon, 1968, p. 63). He wondered what had happened to 9D. As a result, it was absolutely clear to Herndon that 7H and 9D did not, 62 M. A. WEBB could not, and would not play school in the manner in which both 7B and 8B had learned to do so. Therefore, his commitment was to 7H and 9D. Windows work two ways. They allow us a view of what is outside, while providing an opportunity for others to take a look inside. A window sym- bolizes freedom: it admits light, air, literally, and knowledge, figuratively, all of which may pass through coming and going. In literature, windows are often used to symbolize finding things out, or revealing something. Herndon (1968) gives us a metaphorical window into the complexities of the classroom and the teaching dilemmas that progressives in real schools grapple with and the real-life dilemmas confronting their beliefs in a curriculum for everyone. He takes his iconoclastic methods into GW where he addressed racial tensions due to social class stratification, issues of power and authority, the devastation of tracking, and the marginalization of African American students. Herndon, along with other progressive educators of the romantic era, is credited for contributing to the momentum for creating a space for different kinds of teachers andS schooling approaches that would free students’ imaginations and creativity from mindless drill and kill routines, tyrannical authority,O and Fpassive learning. Same Old, Same Old O Herndon (1968) opens the chapter with a physical description of the school building. While describing GWR as “old, dark, the same3 brown window shades all pulled exactlyP three-quarters of the 1way down” (p. 2), he differentiates it from the newer “motel-schools”0 which he said “fooled nobody; they were still schools, and the same old crap was going to go on in them” (p. 2). Clearly,P Herndon did not2 expect the operation of school to be differentA whether the building was old like GW or one of the new schools thatI he says looks like a ©motel or bowling alley. Herndon was ada- mant that the physical structure of school buildings did not matter, both were subject to its historical roots of being places where “the same old crap” occurred. He felt that the newer “motel-schools” simply projected a persona of revealing or being something new. Whereas, in “old” GW you knew what you were getting, nothing new was expected, nothing new was required in fact anything new, which Herndon would later find out, was frowned upon. This was the norm held by staff, students, and administrators at GW: maintain the status quo. For example, when Herndon (1968) met the coach who was also the physical education teacher, Coach advised him that things don’t and won’t change, saying, No More Broken Windows 63

“Well, Jim, you can have it just two ways here,” he said, keeping hold of my arm. “Pretty good, or pretty goddamn bad. Nothing in between. And it won’t ever change either. However it starts for you, it’s gonna stay that way.” (p. 10)

The coach’s other advice was on the use of “The Word,” another example of expectations or lack thereof and how things don’t change.

“The Word” is the one thing you can’t ever let them say in the classroom. It’s kind of a tradition around here, you might say. Any kid says “The Word,” then right down to the office with him, no arguing, ifs, ands buts. Just make out the slip; all you have to write is “The Word.” They all know it, the kids, and they expect it. Now, this isn’t an ordinary school in many ways, and one of the ways is swearing. You’ll find you have to ignore a lot of talk you wouldn’t dream of putting up with in some other place. My advice here is, forget it. It doesn’t mean a thing, and if you try to stop it you won’t get anywhere, and you won’t have time to do anything else. (p. 11) S Perhaps this is another example of the broken windowF theory, and/or evidence of the lack of authentic learning activities that might engage student interests and motivate them, which might actuallyO prevent unaccept- able behaviors like using “The Word.” O The Rhetoric Begins PR 13 During the new teacher meeting, the administration0 framed its window for discipline and the support that both teachers and students would receive from departmentP heads while also2 espousing its goals for students. Herndon (1968)A described what the new teachers heard as reassurance from the administrationI that © the individual freedoms to teach how we pleased would not be in any way affected, but that its purpose was to assist planning so that the students at GW might have an orderly and unrepetitive progression through the grades and that this administration wished to concentrate on the individual, on his freedom of action, learning, growth and development, and at the same time, to promote an orderly and responsible group of children. (p. 6)

The students of GW and Herndon would experience quite the opposite over the next year. Like many school administrators, perhaps even those with good intentions, they said one thing, and their actions supported another. Schools are involved in framing ideas about race and are constantly in struggles around racial equity. They serve as a sorting mechanism, 64 M. A. WEBB providing different students with access to different kinds of experiences, opportunities, and knowledge, which then shape future opportunities. We must acknowledge the way in which schools are structured, policies, and practices that are implemented to reproduce the very inequities that they should break down. Herndon (1968) recalls that during the new teacher meeting no one mentioned anything about the system of tracking used at GW. However, when he looked at his schedule, he found that he taught five different classes to four different groups (a seventh grade B class, an eighth grade B class, a ninth grade D class and a seventh grade H class). It wasn’t until he inquired about the tracking system in the teacher’s lounge that he learned about the ratings. He found that the students were all rated and group A (high) to H (low). The ratings were made on the basis of IQ tests, standardized achievement tests, and, on occasion, faculty recommendations. Herndon (1968) says, S It is this kind of classification, based on this kind of testing, Fwhich seems to me the perfect example of the kind of thing that continually goes on in a school, and for which there is no reasonable explanation.O Talking just to any teacher, as I did that year, you can hear a perfectly plausible lecture to the effect that IQ (or Mental Maturity, as it nowO goes) tests are not particularly valid under the best of conditions – that is, their validity is only general. You can’t say, for example, that a child whoR scores 120 is any more3 capable than one who scores 116, 112, or anything above, say, or anything above, say, 100. (p. 13) P 01 Later in the book, Herndon (1968) described another system of tracking employed by schoolP and supported by2 the state in the use of student spellers. This Asystem of tracking is discovered by the students, when they complainedI about the substitute© teacher (Mrs. A) issuing them the wrong spellers.

The state spellers tried to keep grade level a secret; they didn’t say seventh grade or second grade anywhere on them, to keep the kids unaware of the fact they were working below (or above) grade level. What they did have was a number of dots, near the top, perhaps so the teacher could tell what grade level they were—seven dots for seventh-grade, two dots for second grade. It didn’t take long for the slowest kid to figure out this system. (p. 67)

Mrs. A had given the spellers that were second and third grade spellers, hence two and three dots at the top of each workbook.

It was true the second-and third-grade spellers were of no use to them. What they needed were official spellers with seven big dots on them, to No More Broken Windows 65

carry outside on the school grounds and home with them to prove they were too in seventh grade. I gave out a bunch of homework in spelling and ordered everyone to take the spellers home that very night to do the homework in; everyone carried those spellers home and back again every day from then on, until they were lost or swiped. (p. 67)

To the students, the spellers were another example of “the way it spozed to be.” Whether they completed the spellers or not, having them meant that they were like everyone else. Students in other classes all had spellers.

School Experiences as Curriculum

In progressive communities, they endeavor to shape the experiences of the young so that instead of reproducing current habits, better habits shall be formed, and thus the future adult society be an improvement on their own. (Dewey, 1916, p. 79) FS Herndon (1968) was an advocate for child-centered, progressive education. He criticized schools for their “lack of focusO on personal and public education” (Schubert & Schubert, 1982, p. 224). Herndon saw the school system as oppressive rather than as a spaceO that promoted learning, especially for students already marginalized by race and class. He gives a view of a window of the systematic dullingR of students’ abilities3 and creativity within urban public schools. 1 Child centered progressive P education has been0 described as an effort to enhance both child and community by establishing schools that would focus on the needs Pand interests of children,2 thereby turning out more productive citizens.A Progressive classrooms are typically characterized by a great deal Iof freedom for students© and as noisy places that sometimes appear untidy and disorganized. The teaching/learning process is often structured around student interests and concerns. Schubert et al. (2002) discuss three major orientations to curriculum work that took shape during the 20th century. The kind of progressive, social justice approach to curriculum and pedagogy adopted by Herndon (1968) does not connect to two dominant perspectives They describe: the traditionalist perspective, which suggests that schooling provides awareness and insight into the paradigmatic structure of the disciplines of knowledge; and the behaviorist perspective, which suggests schools would mass produce contributors to “successful living” according to their perceived gifts and talents. But progressivism is kindred with the experientialists, who perceive schools allow students to resolve problems that inhibit meaning and direction in their lives (p. 221). 66 M. A. WEBB

Progressive educators of the 1920s conceived of the notion of curriculum as those “experiences” that students have under the auspices of school guided by teachers. These Progressives Reformers argued that the artificial environment of the schools was miseducative in that the youth of the country were not prepared to see and understand the values and issues which would confront them as they became adults (Dewey & Childs, 1933). The notion of experience requires students to evaluate their experiences and perceptions of these experiences as they encounter their education program. Progressive educators emphasized several beliefs that they considered central to any adequate conception of education.

First, they wished to remind other educators that the reality of a curriculum for a child was determined by the quality of the experience that the child had in the school and was not simply a piece of paper on which lesson plans were prepared. Second, because children differ from one another in background, aptitudes, interest, and the like, the curriculum was neverS identical for different children. (Eisner, 1985, p. 40) F The progressive reformers called for school curriculum that included (1) teaching about health and community life while engagingO in active learning that would stimulate the mind and illuminate their talents; (2) new scientific discoveries about learning; and (3)O tailored teaching techniques matched to students’ needs. Marsh Rand Willis (2007) cite Cremin3 who says that as part of progressivism in all phases of life, progressive education meant that schools should inP many ways attempt to1 improve the lives of individuals: 20 First, it (progressivism)P meant broadening the program and the function of the school toA include direct concerns for health, vocation, and the quality of family andI community life. Second,© it meant applying in the classroom the pedagogical principles derived from new scientific research in psychology and the social sciences. Third, it meant tailoring instruction more and more to the different kinds and classes of children who were being brought within the purview of the school. (p. 43)

John Dewey (1859-1952), considered the most renowned of the progressive educators, wrote for 60 years on psychology, ethics, politics, religion, art, formal philosophy, and education. A proponent of experiential education, Dewey described educational experiences as those that contribute to an individual’s growth. Growth for Dewey (1938) depends on whether development in a specific direction

promotes or retards growth in general. Does this form of growth create conditions for further growth or does it set up conditions that shut off the person No More Broken Windows 67

who has grown in this particular direction from the occasions, stimuli, and opportunities for continuing growth in new directions? (p. 36)

Dewey described three types of experiences: those that are educative, noneducative, and miseducative. An educative experience is one that promotes the growth and desire of the student toward further experiences. Dewey’s theory is that experience arises from the interaction of two principles—continuity and interaction. Continuity means that each experience affects for better or worse the attitudes that help us decide the quality of further experiences. Interaction refers to the situational influence on one’s experience. In other words, one’s present experience is a function of the interaction between one’s past experiences and the present situation (Dewey, 1938). For example, the experience of those students learning to read depended on how Mr. Hern- don (1968) planned and enacted the curriculum, as well their past experiences of learning to read. By allowing the students to go to theS library (a space generally reserved for readers) and to select reading material that was of interest to them, Herndon created a new, more educativeF experience for the students. The principle of continuity is critical and involved in every attempt to evaluate whether or not an experienceO is educative. The cultivation of a “desire to go on learning”O is one of the most important benchmarks of educative experiences (p. 48). Noneducative experiences are thoseR that are simply 3undergone and have no significant effect on the individual on way or1 the other. For example, once a child has learned P the alphabet and can recite the letters, any future experiences with recitation have no effect0 on the child one way or the other. In GW, theP daily routine of copying2 a paragraph from the blackboard as a mechanism to control students and keep them quiet is one of those noneducativeIA experiences© that students are required to do. Coach said,

The best method for getting them in order was to have a paragraph written out on the board when they entered, and get them in the habit of copying this paragraph in their notebooks immediately as they sat down, giving a time limit for its completion, erasing the paragraph when the time was up, and grading the notebooks frequently. Copying was something they could all do without further explanation from me; it got them in the mood for schoolwork, quiet, their materials ready, all set for the day’s lesson, whatever it was. (Herndon, 1968, p. 106)

Herndon’s (1968) response to himself was, “I don’t want to get them under control, I want them to see some reason for getting themselves under control” (p. 113). 68 M. A. WEBB

Dewey (1938) describes miseducative experiences as those that have “the effect of arresting or distorting the growth of further experience” (p. 25). These experiences restrict or prevent further experiences. A bigoted veteran teacher at the GW declared that all her life she had only spoken to ladies and gentlemen, and since none of the African American students were ladies or gentlemen, she not only refused to speak to them, but also strictly forbade them to speak in her class. She silently handed out worksheets on a daily basis with typed instructions to all the students. If students spoke in the class, she would hand them a written note instructing them to report to the office. The structure and routines of traditional school often prevent many students from developing in certain subject areas. For example, the reading experience of Herndon’s students was so damning and uncomfortable across their school and nonschool experiences that they avoided the subject whenever it was within their power to do so. The way in which the students experienced reading as a subject thwarted rather than nurturedS or stimulated the intellectual imagination and aesthetic possibilities typically brought about by reading. An experience that promotesF callousness toward learning; a repetitive experience that places a student in a “groove or rut”; an experience that leads to carelessness;O experiences that are individually enjoyable but utterly disconnectedO such that they lead to an inability to make sense of future experiences—all of these Dewey would call miseducative. Almost all of Herndon’sR students’ prior3 experiences with reading had been miseducative. For almost every1 student at GW, the miseducative lurked around Peach corner of the school, and blocked any meaningful vision ofP the present or future2 in school0 from view. Critical PedagogyIA and Culturally© Relevant Teaching

We speak increasingly of control, as if we feared that everything would collapse into nothing if we let loose our (illusory) hold on things. And so I have been urging one simple truth through all these pages: that the educational function does not rest upon our ability to control, or our will to instruct, but upon our human nature and the nature of experience. —George Dennison

Nearly a decade ago, African American educator Asa Hilliard spoke to a gathering of elementary teachers and principals in Milwaukee, stressing the central role of teacher knowledge and attitudes in any reform effort. “Curriculum is what’s inside teachers’ heads,” he reminded us. No More Broken Windows 69

Although Herndon (1968) assumed responsibility for establishing routines for instruction, management, and an environment conducive for academic learning and personal growth in his classroom by virtue of his position, the burden of the classroom context is not solely his responsibility, due to the oppressive and in this case racialized contexts of GW. In Herndon’s attempt not to reproduce the status quo in terms of classroom instruction or lack of classroom management, as well as to meet the needs of students where they were, he found himself engaged in what Friere (1970) describes as “the nature of oppression,” that is he was operating in a system in which the oppressors and the oppressed are held captive by the forces of oppression. The structure of school is highly oppressive. The teacher must follow a curriculum set by someone else and use textbooks written by someone else. The teacher is oppressed under the structure and hierarchy of the school system and therefore is unable to empower students by giving them freedom to create, explore, experience and transform. The challenge for today’s teachers is to include those elementsS of curricula that will optimize learning for students while maintainingF their cultural identity (Ladson-Billings, 1994). Culturally relevant teaching is a term created byO Gloria Ladson-Billings (1992) to describe a pedagogy that empowers students intellectually, socially, emotionally, and politically, usingO cultural referents to impart knowledge, skills, and attitudes as part of particular and3 overall school experiences through the curriculumR and pedagogy of the site and the teacher. Participating in culturallyP relevant teaching1 essentially means that teachers create a bridge between students’0 home and school lives, while still meeting Pthe expectations of the2 district and state curricular requirements. Culturally relevant teaching utilizes the backgrounds, knowledge, andA experiences of the students to inform the teacher’s lessons and methodology.I One of© ways in which Herndon engages in this notion of culturally relevant teaching is through what he describes as intellectual discourse where students discussed

all serious questions with a view to finding out the reasons and causes and probable outcomes of situations, everyone having a say including myself. The discussions were lively, honest, uncompromising (and disorderly)—I was on the whole satisfied with them. (p. 63)

During one of their discussions, the meaning of D designation for the class and the tracking system became their topic. Like in all schools, the students are supposed to be unaware of the tracking system used to group students, and like most students Herndon’s (1968) students know about the groupings. 70 M. A. WEBB

One day a kid opened up a period by asking me to explain why they were all in a dumb class—what he actually said, I remember was: If we in this dumb class why should we do anything if we already too dumb to do it? Yeah, came a number of voices in agreement, old D for Dumb! and several similar expressions. (p. 64)

They spent several days discussing this topic. Each day, students excitedly picked up where they left off. It was one of the times that Herndon (1968) says that the students did not mind listening to him talk for long periods of time. Herndon tried to explain about the tests, who made the tests, who took the tests, what they meant or didn’t mean, why a student might do well or poorly on the tests on any given day, and how they got the groups out of the results of the tests. “Everyone wanted to know about it because, I imagine, it was true and had something to do with them, and no one had ever gone into it with them before” (p. 64). Herndon’s (1968) goal for his students was to S learn something about English, since that was what they wereF “spozed to learn” and to “learn something about writing—how to say what they wanted on paper so that somebody else could read it. In this respect the discussions, upon which I’d counted, were a failure; no one foundO it necessary to record his own or anyone else’s thoughts. (p. 65) O The independent reading and Rwriting, along with 3the cooperative learning methods employed by Herndon (1968), were described as the most frequently discussed methodsP to teach African 1American students to read in a study conducted by Perkins (2001). Reading,0 as defined by Clay (1991), is a “message-getting,P problem-solving2 activity which increases in power and flexibility the more it is practiced” (p. 6). During independent reading and Awriting, students are in charge of their own reading and writing; theyI choose what to read© and what topics they will write about. Social interaction is extremely important in developing students’ cognitive growth. It is significantly relevant to current trends in reading instruction. Cooperative learning groups help students to synthesize information in a collaborative way. Slavin (1991) found that students’ achievement, self- concept, and social skills were enhanced when they participated in cooperative learning groups. Research on cooperative learning practices reveals that students achieve more when working in groups than when working individually or in competitive situations (Dilworth, 1992; Kuykendall, 1992). According to Irvine (1989), there is significant evidence in the literature that African American students achieve better when they work together rather than alone. The refusal of the curriculum coaches and administrators to support and encourage Herndon’s (1968) innovative No More Broken Windows 71 and emancipatory teaching techniques only helped to create and recreate the existing culture, beliefs and practices, which are hegemonic in nature. Although nearly always invisible, hegemonic structures reify what seems to be natural and therefore accepted as commonsense. Peter McLaren (1997) explains that critical pedagogy is an approach adopted by progressive teachers attempting to eliminate inequities on the basis of social class, and that it has also sparked a wide array of antisexist, antiracist, and antihomophobic classroom-based curricula and policy initiatives. Common questions for the critical educator include: What knowledge is of most worth? Whose knowledge is most important? What knowledge should be taught, and just as important, what knowledge is not to be taught? How does the structure of the school contribute to the social stratification of our society? What is the relationship between knowledge and power? What does this imply for our children? What is the purpose of schooling? Is it to ensure democracy or to maintain the status quo and support big business? How can teachers enable studentsS to become critical thinkers who will promote true democracyF and freedom? In Making Choices for Multicultural Education, Sleeter and Grant (1999) refer to multicultural education as “educational practicesO directed toward race, culture, language, social class, gender, and disability” (p. 211). How- ever, they do not imply that race is the primaryO form of social inequality that needs to be addressed. Multicultural educators are described as affirming difference as a resourceR rather than as a deficit.3 Thus, they would argue that a significantP aspect of student engagement1 is a connection to students’ personal lives and the material0 world (McLaren, 1997). The curriculum shouldP be reformed so that2 it will more accurately reflect the historyI andA cultures of ethnic© groups and women. (Banks, 1993, p. 4) Reading is said to be a window to the world in the The American Association of School Librarians Standards for the 21st Century Learner— says that reading is a foundational skill for learning, personal growth, and enjoyment. The degree to which students can read and understand text in all formats (e.g., pictures, videos, print matters of all kinds) and all contexts is a key indicator of success in school and in life (American Association of School Librarians, 2007, p. 2). Education—and reading well—enables students to look through window frames in order to see the realities of others and into mirrors in order to see their own reflected realities. Knowledge of both types of framing is basic to a balanced education, which should be committed to affirming the essential dialectic between the self and the world. In other words, education engages us in “the great conversation” between various frames of reference. 72 M. A. WEBB

Herndon (1968) describes the routine of asking nonreaders to engage in reading aloud, a practice that required students to risk themselves in ways that prevented them from complying. Their resistance provided protection to their emotional and social selves. This avoidance of the risk for Herndon’s students’ was entrenched in the racialized context of the school. In chapter three, titled “Welcome Back!” Herndon describes a huge poster located at the end of the hall hung high up on the wall. The poster said “Welcome Back.” Below the these words was a painted picture which showed two white children, a boy and a girl, carrying lunch boxes and books, heading for school. In light of the student population being 99% African American, this depiction is clearly problematic. The problem, as he describes it, is

that these two life sized painted kids didn’t look like anybody I saw or was likely to see, heading for old GW. The girl was blonde. Her hair hung in a nice long curl around her shoulders. The boy had brown hair, combed straight back. They both were white. (p. 11) FS The presence of the mural depicting white children, the limited books and older texts, showing a complete lack of concernO for the students in this school and their educational experiences, all certainly created a con- tentious climate inside the school. O For Herndon (1968), the task was to carve out a safe learning environment. He recognized that the structuresR of GW, like 3countless other schools across America then Pand now, were mis-educative.1 He attempted to create a learning space where students were0 encouraged to participate and engage in discussions and group projects. Learning would be enjoyable. However, whileP the plays and films 2blurred the lines between work and play, theyA ultimately led to his being characterized as an unsuccessful teacher. I © The idea that a central purpose of a democratic curriculum might involve exploring where knowledge comes from, the rules of its production, and the ways we can assess its quality and the purposes of its production often don’t resonate with individuals living in an era of standardized tests and student/school rankings (Kincheloe, 2008, p. 3). Dewey advised teachers to build their classroom lessons around the life experiences of students. Paulo Freire always reminded us that central to our work in critical pedagogy is the effort to end the grotesque reality of human suffering. “A critical epistemology helps educators understand that thinking in new ways always necessitates personal transformation: if enough people think in new ways, social and pedagogical transformation is inevitable” (Kincheloe, 2008, p. 32). No More Broken Windows 73

Martin Luther King, Jr. (n.d.), said:

It seems to me, that education has a two-fold function to perform in the life of man and in society: the one is utility and the other is culture. Education must enable a man (sic) to become more efficient, to achieve with increasing facility the legitimate goals of his life.

Some do see the education system, or more specifically our public schools, as a means for controlling students, for teaching them merely to obey (Gatto, 1992). It is widely agreed upon that one of the purposes of schooling is to understand our country and how it works, either as a way to operate in society or to question and to change it. A more democratic, critical, and progressive education in the public school makes it possible for students to control their own future. Stained Glass FS When I see a stained glass window in a church, its beauty often strikes me. The stained glass is often a depiction of a particularO story or inspiring moment from scripture or an aspect of faith. A closer look at the art embedded in the glass panes often revealsO that the window is made up of many pieces of glass of different shapes and sizes, some are large and some are small and they are made ofR different colors. 3 The ultimate goal of a greatP teacher (James Herndon),1 the fine artist who creates stained glass out of his students’ lives0 in the classroom, is to create something that will captivate, evoke, enthrall, or in some other way stimulate the viewerP (learner). This is accomplished2 by coming up with fresh ideas or Adesigns (innovative teaching strategies), and then executing them (evenI though the outcome© may look very random, imprecise, and sometimes chaotic). Students are like a giant stained glass window, with their own life experiences shimmering as the light of people who had an impact on their lives through liberating actions shines through them, always in the moment but sometimes recognized only in the future. Teachers, like James Herndon, shine through them, and create a new world, transformed by opportunity, and justice. As you look at each piece of beautiful stained glass—your students’ lives and experiences—you might see a name or image of something or someone that has made a difference for him, or for her, or for you. The people who shine through will be the ones who took the time to listen, to care, to teach, to inspire, to encourage, those whom you took a chance on, or who took a chance on you, like James Herndon did for his students. 74 M. A. WEBB

Instead of operating under the broken window theory, which privileges disorder and merely responds to the perception of it with behavioral interventions (like direct instruction), we should strive for the excellence and possibility symbolized by stained glass windows. Herndon was an educator who attempted to transform his students from regular glass windows, perceived by every other adult in the setting to be broken, into stained glass windows, in tact and thriving, and emitting beauty and potential. His nontraditional teaching methods led to enthusiasm and dil- igence from his students, and, ultimately, and sadly, the nonrenewal of his teaching contract. He attempted to utilize novel strategies that motivated students to read in a world where students had miseducative experiences with reading over the course of several years, since they were still nonreaders in seventh grade. In the last month of school, the students decided to stage riots. The riots mainly consisted of throwing things out of the windows, destroying books, and occasionally locking a teacher out of the classroom. SHerndon’s (1968) classes were the only ones not disrupted. His students did not riot against him and or his authority (or lack thereof) as they didF against other teachers. So, the administration fired Herndon because it felt that if no one rioted against him, he must be the only one Onot enforcing authority. In his final evaluation interview, HerndonO recalled that On the form, where it counted, I was totally unsatisfactory. He spoke to the point; the children were not in theirR seats on time, they did3 not begin lessons promptly, many of them sat around doing nothing,1 there was not an atmosphere conducive to study, P no effort was made to inculcate good study habits, there was no evidence of thorough preparation0 of lessons or goals. I appeared to encourageP activities that were opposed2 to the efforts of the faculty. In general, I appeared eager to discuss with the students matters irrelevant or unfitA for the classroom, I had no control over their actions, and I steadfastlyI rejected aid and advice© from experienced people. (p. 110) Instead, all of what Herndon did was done to empower and transform the lives of children, to educate them, which he did and the others in the school did not. Their realities are on different sides of the window, one that sees the windows as broken, and the other that sees them as beautiful, filled with possibility. We live in a society which values maintaining the status quo and where some of the most vibrant approaches and possibilities are often stifled, and where individuals not “with the program” are encouraged to become more like those that are accepted and privileged in the dominant culture. I have always believed that active lessons should connect to the real world and that the experiences of students, as they are surfaced and privileged in class, promote motivation and excitement for learning. Classrooms No More Broken Windows 75 should be places where students are treated as thinkers, doers, and directors of their own learning. Students will achieve academic prosperity when teachers like Herndon (1968) give them the opportunity to succeed. The persistence of racial and economic inequalities that minimize the life prospects of urban African American school children should lead each of us to consider our moral obligations as change agents, and particularly to reconsider just how it is that the status quo in curriculum and pedagogy today, especially in classrooms where students of color go to study and learn, is being fostered by the hegemonic forces of the day. We need more James Herndons to break down those practices, to engage learners, and to transform society.

REFERENCES American Association of School Librarians. (2007). Standards for the 21stS Century Learner. Retrieved from www.ala.org/aasl Banks, J. (1993). The cannon debate, knowledge constructionF and multicultural education. Educational Researcher, 33(5), 4-14. Christensen, C. R., Garvin, D. A., & Sweet, A. (1991). OEducation for judgment: The artistry of discussion leadership. Boston, MA: Harvard Business School Press. Clay, M. (1991). Becoming literate: The constructionO of inner control. Portsmouth, NH: Heinemann. 3 Dewey, J. (1916). Democracy and education.R New York, NY: Macmillan. Dewey, J. (1938). Experience & education.P New York, NY: Kappa1 Delta Pi. Dewey, J., & Childs, J. L. (1933). The social-economic0 situation and education. In W. H. Kilpatrick (Ed.), The educational frontier (pp. 32-72). New York, NY: D. Appleton-Century.P 2 Dilworth, M. E. (1992). Diversity in teacher education: New expectations. San Fran- cisco, CA:I AJossey-Bass. © Freire, P. (1970). Pedagogy of the oppressed. New York, NY: Continuum. Gatto, J. T. (1992). Dumbing us down: The hidden curriculum of compulsory schooling. Philadelphia, PA: New Society. Herndon, J. (1968). The way it spozed to be. New York, NY: Simon and Schuster. Herndon, J. (1985). Notes from a school teacher. New York, NY: Simon and Schuster. Herndon, J. (1971). How to survive in your native land. New York, NY: Simon and Schuster. Hilliard, A. (1995). The maroon within us. Baltimore, Md: Black Classic Press. Irvine, J. J. (1989). Annual meeting of the American Educational Research Association. Address presented at AERA, San Francisco, CA. Kincheloe, J. L. (2008). Knowledge and critical pedagogy: An introduction. Montreal: Springer. Kuykendall, C. (1992). From rage to hope: Strategies for reclaiming Black & His- panic students. National Educational Service. 76 M. A. WEBB

Ladson-Billings, G. (1992). Culturally relevant teaching: The key to making multicultural education work. In C. A. Grant (Ed.), Research and multicultural education (pp. 106-121). London, England: Falmer Press. Ladson-Billings, G. (1994). The dreamkeepers: Successful teachers of African American children. San Francisco, CA: Jossey-Bass. Marsh, C. J., & Willis, G. (2007). Curriculum: Alternatives approaches, ongoing issues (4th ed.). Upper Saddle River, NJ: Pearson/Merrill Prentice Hall. The Martin Luther King, Jr., Research and Education Institute—Martin Luther King, Jr., Papers Project. (n.d.). The Martin Luther King, Jr., Research and Education Institute—Martin Luther King, Jr., Papers Project. Retrieved from http:/ /mlk-kpp01.stanford.edu/kingweb/mlkpapers/ McLaren, P. (1997). Critical multiculturalism. In D. T. Goldberg (Ed.), In multiculturalism (pp. 45-74). Malden, MA: Blackwell. Perkins, H. (2001). Listen to their teachers’ voices: Effective reading instruction for fourth grade African American students. Reading Horizons, 41(4). Pinar, W. (2012). What is curriculum theory? (2nd edition). New York, NY: Taylor & Francis. Schubert, W., & Schubert, A. L. L. (1982). Conceptions of curriculum knowledge:S Focus on students and teachers. College Station, PA: The Pennsylvania State University. Schubert, W., Schubert, A. L. L., Thomas, T., & Carroll, W. F(2002). Curriculum books: The first hundred years. New York, NY: Peter Lang. Slavin, R. E. (1991). Are cooperative learning and “untracking”O harmful to the gifted. Educational Leadership, 48(6), 68-71. Sleeter, C. E., & Grant, C. A. (1999). Making choicesO for multicultural education: Five approaches to race, class, and gender. New York, NY: John Wiley. Wilson, J. Q., & Kelling, G. L. (1982).R Broken windows. The3 Atlantic Monthly, 249(3), 29-38. P 1 P 20 IA © CHAPTER 5

HOW READING INCENTIVE PROGRAMS FAIL

C. P. GARRY Candi Pierce Garry S OF We destroy the disinterested (I do not mean uninterested) love of learning in children, which is so strongO when they are small, by encouraging and compelling them to work for petty and contemptible rewards—gold stars,R or papers marked 1003 and tacked to the wall, or A’s on report cards, or honor rolls,1 or dean’s lists, or Phi Beta Kappa keys—in short,P for the ignoble satisfaction of feeling that they are better than someone else. We 0encourage them to feel that the end and Paim of all they do in school2 is nothing more than to get a good mark on a test, or to impress someone with what they seem to know.A We kill, not only their curiosity, but that it is a good and admirableI thing to be curious.©” —John Holt, How Children Fail

Introduction

How Children Fail, published in 1964, spelled out John Holt’s theories about children and school failure. In this widely read book, he describes his belief that the design, methods, values, and structure of traditional schooling sets up students for failure.

Curriculum Windows: What Curriculum Theorists of the 1960s Can Teach Us About Schools and Society Today, pp. 77–91 Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved. 77 78 C. P. GARRY

As a public school teacher-librarian, my first priority is to instill in my students a lifelong enjoyment of reading. The teacher side of me recognizes that learning to read, comprehend, and employ written language is vital to a student’s success, while the librarian in me knows that to get students to read, we need to get books in their hands, and that once students get hooked on reading, they will discover the joy and wonder that reading for pleasure brings. For many librarians, the phrase “by any means necessary” accurately describes their determination to influence young children with literature. This then becomes their motive for instituting reading incentive programs, hoping that the prizes or rewards the programs offer will help students discover books and become happy, confident readers. Unfortunately, as John Holt observed so many years ago, many of his fellow teachers’ well-meaning teaching strategies fail to teach children math, so too do these ambitious reading incentive programs fail to result in converting students into voracious readers. One major issue that John Holt had with traditional schoolingS was the almost exclusive use of extrinsic motivation in schools.F He shared his thoughts on incentives in a 1980 interview:

It’s a well established principle that if you take somebodyO who’s doing something for her or his own pleasure and offer some kind of outside reward for doing it—and let the person become accustomedO to performing the task for that reward—then take the reward away, the individual will stop3 that activity. You can even train nursery school youngstersR who love to draw pictures to stop drawing them, simply byP giving them gold stars1 or some other little bonus for a couple of months … and then removing0 that artificial “motivation.” (Stone, 1980)P 2 Holt believedA that incentives created a synthetic and very temporary motivation,I and led students to ©learn the wrong things for the wrong reasons and ultimately resulted in students losing interest in learning altogether. How Children Fail created a firestorm of controversy when it was written. As educators and others peered through Holt’s window into his classroom, they were jarringly awakened to the reality that even in the most elite private schools, children were failing to grasp basic concepts. “How Reading Incentive Programs Fail” is my attempt to create a similar window to illustrate that the feel-good reading incentives offered by well- meaning educators and librarians may actually quash the innate desire to read by cheapening the already intrinsically motivating activity of reading for pleasure with meaningless extrinsic motivators. In other words, reading incentive programs may do more than fail to inspire students to read —they may actually be conditioning them to dislike reading! How Reading Incentive Programs Fail 79

Who Was John Holt?

John Caldwell Holt (1923-1985) was an unlikely educator and thinker. He began his teaching career later in life, and came to it more by accident than by intention. He was the oldest and only son of affluent parents and was educated in elite private schools in New England. After graduating from Yale, where he studied industrial administration, he enlisted in the U.S. Navy toward the end of World War II, serving for 3 years as a com- missioned officer on the USS Barbero. He later credited his time spent on the submarine as the best learning community he had ever been a part of, due to his commanding officer who gave him genuine responsibilities and on-the-job learning opportunities. After his stint in the Navy, and moved by the horrors of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima, Holt became involved with the World Federalist Movement. This organization attracted a number of World War II veterans who felt that establishing a new global government might prevent future wars. However, discouragedS by the onset of the Cold War and the apparent futility of the new world order movement, he resigned after 6 years and spent the nextF year traveling Europe while contemplating his future. During a visit with his sister, she remarked on Holt’s affinity with children and Osuggested he consider teaching. As Holt had no teaching credentials andO therefore was not qualified to teach in public schools, his opportunitiesR were limited to3 private schools. Holt convinced the headmaster of the Colorado Rocky Mountain School to take him on initially as an Punpaid volunteer, but he1 soon found himself a full-time staff member teaching high school0 students. He described himself then as “a perfectlyP conventional2 schoolmaster” giving students numerous tests and failing them when they did not pass. He still felt they were capable ofA learning and spent a great deal of time trying to reach the students, butI after 4 years came© to the realization that the students expected to fail. John Holt decided to try his hand at teaching younger students, hoping to intervene before the students became so ingrained in their defeatist frame of mind. Holt moved across the country to Cambridge, Massachusetts, to work with fifth graders at the very selective Shady Hill School. Here he cotaught math with Bill Hull, an educator with whom he felt a kinship, as both were interested to find out why so many of their students didn’t learn well. The students in the class were children of highly intelligent society elites and their IQs had tested at the gifted level, yet many acted helpless in class. They did not retain what had been taught and “passed” in previous grades. Rather than resort to the common practice of drilling and testing the students to force them to preserve the information taught, Holt began trying to get the students to think about math, using manipulatives and other 80 C. P. GARRY means in an attempt to help the students understand the larger concepts. The school’s administration found this approach controversial, and the institution let him go. The next year he was teaching his own class at nearby Leslie Ellis School while remaining in touch with Bill Hull. Holt had written many letters and memos describing and reflecting on what he had been observing throughout his career, and at a friend’s urging, com- piled the letters into his first book, How Children Fail, published in 1964. John Holt then moved from Cambridge to Boston, accepting a position at Commonwealth School. While his book was becoming successful, Holt was working on his follow-up title, How Children Learn, which was published in 1967. Buoyed by his books’ success and still conflicting with school administrators over teaching philosophies, Holt left the classroom in 1967, spending the next 2 years as a guest lecturer in the Education departments of prestigious universities—first Harvard and later the Uni- versity of California at Berkeley. John Holt spent the rest of his life writing, lecturing, and attemptingS to reform the way children are educated. Eventually he cameF to the conclusion that traditional schools were counterproductive, harmful, and not willing or able to change. He felt children learnO best naturally, through real-life experiences. He became a pioneer in the homeschooling movement, eventually shifting his focus to theO idea of “unschooling,” which eschews any form of regimented curricula and schooling structure in favor of a natural, life-experiences Rapproach. He founded3 a newsletter in 1987 titled Growing WithoutP Schooling (GWS), which1 supported and encouraged homeschooling and unschooling families.0 GWS continued to flourish for 16 years after his death, closing in 2001 but maintaining an online presence withP a website containing2 digital copies of all the published newsletters.A Over his lifetime he published a total of 10 books, including revisedI and updated editions© of his two best-sellers. John Holt passed away in 1985 at the age of 62 from cancer (Farenga, 1999; Gilman, 1984; Holt, 1964; Lant, 1976; Meighan, 2007; Stone, 1980).

John Holt’s Theories on Learning

John Holt’s experiences as a classroom teacher and child observer in the 1960s formed the foundation of his educational theories. How Chil- dren Fail (1964) spells out some of his best known theories about children and learning:

Schools and teachers put so much focus on “right answers” that students become fearful of not knowing the answer and spend their How Reading Incentive Programs Fail 81

time desperately applying strategies to come up with the “right answer” rather than learning and comprehending the concepts. Schools destroy the inherent love of learning by compelling children to learn using petty rewards and other extrinsic motivators. People learn best from real-life experiences because they are meaningful. Students are frustrated and bored in schools because curriculum tends to be broken down into unrelated concepts that seem arbitrary, useless and confusing. There is a significant gap between what educators believe their students have learned and what the children actually understand. Teachers looking for right answers become satisfied when they hear what they are listening for and do not delve deeper to verify that the students have actually achieved full comprehension. Teachers think the students are learning, but often they are not. S Theoretical Framework F John Holt considered himself a common-senseO practitioner rather than an academic, and never wrote about or discussed any theoretical framework underpinning his own theories.O In fact, he eventually eschewed all traditional schooling, including higher education, and freely admitted that he had no formal trainingR in education or3 child development. However, whether HoltP wanted to admit it or1 not, his ideas show that he was strongly influenced by humanistic psychology.0 Humanistic psychology has its roots in the 1940s in the work of two prominent psychologists,P Abraham Maslow2 and Carl Rogers. Working with others inA their field, they held conferences in the late 1950s to create a professionalI association focused© on a more humanistic vision of psychology. In 1962, The Association for Humanist Psychology was founded; the Journal of Humanistic Psychology is the peer reviewed journal, still in print, that publishes work pertaining to this movement (McLeod, 2007). Humanistic psychology developed, in part, as a rebellion against behaviorist psychology. Humanism emphasizes the individual, focusing on the whole person, and assumes that a person’s actions are connected to his or her emotions and self-concept. The behaviorist belief that human behavior is determined by environmental influence is rejected as demeaning and dehumanizing. As most of behaviorist research is done on animals, humanists believe that behaviorist theories do not consider human agency, a vital aspect of humanism. Humanist research tends to be qualitative, as humanist psychologists feel that the quantitative method is inadequate to capture the richness of the human experience. However, many humanists 82 C. P. GARRY stress acceptance of people as they are, which reduces their motivation to critically study their behavior, and as a result, there is not an extensive body of humanistic research (McLeod, 2007; Moore 2001). Education has been influenced by humanistic psychology, which gave rise to what is aptly referred to as humanistic learning theory. Humanist educators are concerned with the whole student, but prioritize the affective needs of their students, those related to emotions, feelings, values, and attitudes. The emphasis on the individual is a central theme in the basic tenets of humanistic learning theory.

1. Students have an innate, intrinsic desire to learn. 2. Material taught must be relevant and meaningful to the student’s life. 3. Learning should be student-led with teachers acting as facilitators rather than directors. 4. Students should have agency over the curriculum and learning.S 5. Students evaluate their work through self-reflection.F Grades are extrinsic motivators. 6. Students have a natural inclination to improveO themselves and make a positive impact on the world.O Humanistic classrooms would lookR very different from traditional3 classrooms. The curriculum would be student-driven based on student interests and needs, and quite possiblyP even individualized1 for each student. There would be no need for artificial motivators,0 including grades, as students engaged in followingP their interests2 will have sufficient intrinsic motivation to attend to their learning and evaluate their progress. A humanistic classroomA would also be closely connected to the community, where studentsI would take advantage© of opportunities to learn in the greater world, and to give back something of themselves in order to create a better world (Tomei, 2004; Valett, 1974). John Holt emulated humanistic theory in both his educational career and in his personal life. Educationally, he envisioned a learning experience that was completely child-driven. He felt that the traditional classroom environment was harmful to students’ learning and self-concepts, and worked to convince educators to change the way schools operate. Later in his career, he abandoned the idea of reforming schools and shifted his focus to unschooling—a radical and ultranatural form of homeschooling that eschews any type of structure or format that emulates the traditional classroom. John Holt also lived humanistic principles in his own life. His early work with the World Federalist Movement was dedicated to a world-wide order that would prevent future wars and possible How Reading Incentive Programs Fail 83 nuclear annihilation. His teaching career was devoted to understanding children and their learning processes, and attempting to create a better educational world for them. His later lecturing, writing, and activism focused on supporting families as they applied humanistic learning concepts to their children’s education, as well as advocating for children’s rights. Finally, John Holt was determined to do his part environmentally to leave a better world behind. He scrupulously conserved water and other resources and he was known to pick up litter when he took his daily walks around Boston (Stone, 1980).

Reading Incentive Programs

What librarian doesn’t dream of instilling in students a lifelong love of reading and learning? Children won’t become readers if books don’t find a way into their hands, which is the lure of reading incentive programs—S many librarians see them as a positive way to encourage students to pick up books. Summer reading programs are very popular inF public libraries, while computerized reading software is the crux of most school programs. Summer reading programs were designed to motivateO kids to continue reading over the summer to help keep students’ minds active and minimize seasonal learning loss known as “summerO slide.” Most programs reward “quantitative” reading, by which studRents self-report how many3 books they read over a given time period and are rewarded accordingly. Some libraries even purchase larger prizes (e.g.,P bicycles, game consoles)1 as a grand prize, awarded in a raffle that includes all participants0 who meet the top goal. These programs areP often centered around2 a fun, summery theme, and many include supplemental programming and are heavily promoted with signs throughoutA the libraries and on their websites (Stauffer, 2009). ComputerizedI reading management© programs are expensive, commercial products that often form the basis of a school’s reading program. The most commonly used are Renaissance Learning’s Accelerated Reader (AR) and Scholastic’s Reading Counts (RC). With these programs, students read books within a specific reading level range and then take a computerized comprehension quiz. The student will earn “points” according to the score on the quiz and the length and level of the book. While the points themselves can be seen as extrinsic motivators, most teachers who implement this program will also attach an incentive or consequence to the amount of points a student earns or do not earn (Luck, 2010; Pennington, 2010). Reading incentive programs are put in place by well-intentioned teachers and librarians who truly believe that these programs will result in students reading more. They believe that once students are provided with 84 C. P. GARRY books for pleasure reading, they will discover that reading is a fun and pleasurable experience and become life-long lovers of literature. Unfortu- nately, the trick is in convincing a child to simply try reading. If it works, the means justify the ends. These programs are theoretically grounded in Skinnerian psychology and the belief that the use of rewards to condition desirable behaviors will be effective. Unfortunately, research on extrinsic motivation and performance tells a different story.

The Research on Extrinsic Motivation and Performance

In Punished by Rewards, Alfie Kohn (1999) discusses the extensive and surprising findings by behaviorist scientists studying the effects of rewards on performance. Over and over again, researchers working with all ages of people found that when a reward was offered for completing a task, the quality of the performance dropped significantly. These findingsS were initially perplexing to the psychologists, who expected the Skinnerian experiments to prove that rewards positively impacted performanceF (pp. 42-48). However, after reviewing the available research, psychologist John Condry was forced to conclude that when offered rewards,O people tended to choose easier tasks, are less efficient in usingO the information available to solve novel problems, and tend to be answer oriented and more illogical in their problem-solving strategies. TheyR seem to work harder3 and produce more activity, but the activity is of a lower quality, contains1 more errors and is more stereotyped and lessP creative than the work of comparable non- rewarded subjects workingP on the same problem.20 (p. 48) The argument set forth above becomes more convincing upon considerationA of the reasons why rewards are ineffective motivators. Kohn (1999) positsI five compelling reasons© why extrinsic rewards fail. I will review them here, and explain how they also explain why reading incentive programs are counterproductive.

Rewards Punish

Kohn (1999) argues that rewards and punishments are not opposite concepts, but rather two sides of the same coin. Both are methods used to control the behavior of the subject, and the difference between “do this and get a reward” and “do this or get punished” is more a matter of semantics than two distinct approaches. Both strategies result in a student who feels manipulated, and ultimately may develop negative feelings toward the desired behavior. Another punitive aspect of rewards is the How Reading Incentive Programs Fail 85 threat of not receiving them during the behavior modification process. If this occurs, the child is likely to interpret not receiving the reward as a punishment for not meeting the goal! (pp. 50-54) Well-intentioned teachers and librarians often resort to rewards in an effort to avoid punitive methods. By promoting the reading incentive program as a purely reward-based system, they are able to convince themselves and others that the entire program will be a positive learning experience for the students. In other words, children will have nothing to lose and plenty to gain by participating. However, the positive focus on rewards can quickly turn to a negative threat of not getting rewards when teachers become frustrated with students who are choosing not to participate or are not achieving at the level the teacher expects and the teacher reverses tactics, holding the reward over the students’ heads in a punitive manner. When some children receive the award and some do not, the ones that do not are likely to feel deprived and punished. S Rewards Rupture Relationships F A positive, trusting relationship between the educatorO and the student is an integral part of learning. The introduction of rewards (and inherently punishments) controlled by the teacherO increases the imbalance of power between teacher and studentR and creates an anxious3 relationship where the student is constantly feeling evaluated by the teacher. Relation- ships between peers can alsoP suffer when incentive 1programs are implemented. Performance is almost always enhanced0 when students work and learn together. RewardingP individual achievement2 creates competition among students, especially when the rewards are limited (e.g., top three winners). ManyA educators avoid the individual competition by using group rewards,I which only exacerbates© the tension between students. What teachers perceive as “positive peer pressure” feels much different to the one student who causes the group to not get the reward (Kohn, 1999, pp. 54-59). Reading incentives that offer rewards amplify the imbalance of power between the educator and student. This is likely to create a gulf between the two, and will inhibit the free discussion of ideas generated by reading a great book. The competition between students can be damaging as well. When students are competing for limited rewards, there is no incentive to cooperate, and a compelling reason to sabotage others. Computerized reading program results are often posted so that each student knows where they rank in the group, which can be very damaging and punitive to struggling readers and create a chasm between high and low achieving students (Pennington, 2010). 86 C. P. GARRY

Rewards Ignore Reasons

The use of rewards and punishment is often effective in changing behaviors but does not get at the reasons for the behaviors. It is a superficial fix for what is quite often a deeper problem (Kohn, 1999, pp. 59-62). For young readers, there are so many deeper issues surrounding their interaction with books that need to be teased out. When classrooms use computerized reading management programs, the teacher can know in a glance only whether or not the student gleaned enough facts from the book to pass the quiz. They do not know whether the student enjoyed the book, whether the book confused the child, or whether or not the child even read the book (as opposed to copying answers from a friend). Some teachers will take the initiative to go further, but the program itself does not encourage that. A related effect rewards tend to have on motivation to learn (or read) is that rewards change reasons. Students may initially read for fun,S but offering a reward causes the student’s logic to shift to reading for an award. In the 1950s, children’s librarian Mary Gaboda expressedF concern about offering incentives to read, arguing that the rewards “shifted children’s goals from enjoying a reading experience to the winningO of a contest, and that such extrinsic motivation undermines integrity and encourages dependence on lures and irrelevant rewards”O (Stauffer, 2009). A mother of a nine year old who did not readR much initially was thrilled3 with the library’s summer reading program, because suddenly her son was reading. However, the reason he Pwas reading was soon apparent—the1 library was giving out baseball cards. “That’s why I’m doing0 it,” the boy admitted. “I must have aA millionP baseball cards” (Kohn,2 1999, p. 73). Rewards DiscourageI Risk-Taking© “When we are working for a reward, we do exactly what is necessary to get it and no more” (Kohn, 1999, p. 63). Reading incentive plans stifle the initiative to attempt the unfamiliar or read more than is required. Students that are “paid” per book are likely to choose shorter books. Students that are required to take a quiz on the book after reading it will be tempted to stick with easier, familiar books that they understand rather than venture into a new genre or a thick book. When the goal of a reading incentive program is to encourage students to become better readers and to think about what they read, using rewards is the least effective way to reach that goal. “If we want children to read more, to read carefully, and to care about reading, then offering them bribes—edible or otherwise—is exactly the wrong way to go about it” (Kohn, 1999, p. 66). How Reading Incentive Programs Fail 87

Rewards Reduce Interest

In Punished by Rewards (1999), Kohn relates an amusing tale about an elderly man and some young neighborhood bullies who yelled insults at him. Fed up with their daily taunts, the man decided to try a novel approach. He met the youngsters on his front lawn and announced that anyone who returned the following day and shouted mean comments in his direction would receive a dollar. Sure enough, the boys returned the following day, shouting all the rude and caustic words they knew. The man paid each young thug a dollar and instructed them to return the following day, where they would receive a quarter for their insults. The youths consented, and came back the following day to verbally abuse the man some more. The old man paid up, and told the boys that the following day, their insults would only be worth a penny each. The boys were aghast and refused, never to harass him again. By rewarding them for their behavior, and then significantly reducing the incentive, theS man had effectively conditioned them to lose interest in an activityF they had once enjoyed (pp. 71-72). As this story illustrates, the most destructive aspectO of using rewards in hopes of motivating students to learn is that the practice is counterproductive. The presence of extrinsicO motivators has been shown repeatedly to effectively diminish and sometimes completely eliminate the desire to continue with the activityR for which one is being3 rewarded, especially when the “payment” ceases. In the early 1970s,1 two independent experiments examined the effectsP of rewards0 on task enjoyment. First, Edward Deci asked adult subjects to work on an interesting puzzle. Some were offered variousP amounts of money to2 complete the task; the others were not. WhenA the subjects were told the experiment was finished but asked to remainI in the room for© a few minutes, they discovered that the ones who had received payment tended to stop working the puzzle, while the ones who were not offered compensation were likely to continue on their own. Mark Lepper and his associates conducted an experiment with young children in which they found that by promising trifle rewards for coloring with felt-tip markers, an activity the children already loved, the students began to lose interest in drawing with the markers (Kohn, 1999, pp. 69-71). Lepper replicated and expanded this experiment a decade later. This time, he noticed that the kindergarten students enjoyed both felt-tip pens and pastel crayons. He divided the students in half, offering one group a reward for coloring with the pens and the others a reward for coloring with the pastels. When he returned a few weeks later, he confirmed that the students had indeed lost interest in coloring with the implement for which they had been rewarded (pp. 76-77). 88 C. P. GARRY

Kohn (1999) acknowledges that the reasons for this decline in interest may vary, but points to two logical explanations. The first is not surprising: “anything presented as a prerequisite for something else—that is, as a means toward some other end—comes to be seen as less desirable” (p. 76). When someone is willing to “pay” to have a task done, it stands to reason that the task must be unpleasant and undesirable. The second possibility relates to agency: “rewards are usually experienced as controlling, and we tend to recoil from situations where our autonomy has been diminished.” This is not hard to understand, as rewards are a part of conditioning, which is an attempt to control the behavior of another. When students enjoy doing an activity on their own accord, it becomes much less enjoyable when they are made to feel like they are doing the activity because someone else wants them to do it (p. 78). It is especially this last reason that reading incentive programs can be viewed as a negative influence: they can be catastrophic to a student’s enjoyment of reading. Multiple studies have shown that studentsS in schools that use computerized reading management programs report a decreased motivation to read after the program ends Fand the rewards stop coming (Biggers, 2001; Boucher, 2010; Fawson & Moore, 1999; Han- sen, Collins & Warschauer, 2009; Krashen, 2003;O Smith & Westberg, 2011). Millions of students have been inadvertently taught to view reading as a chore, rather than as a pleasantR activity.O 3 What Does Work? P 01 Research indicatesP that effective reading2 programs, those that result in both immediate increased reading and creating long-term reading habits have severalI componentsA in common:© Access to books: Ideally, students would have full and complete access to a wide range of grade appropriate and interesting books at all times. Time to read: A successful reading program will allot for a consistent and substantial period of time for students to read. School-wide support: When all the members of a school community, including administrators, teachers, support staff, custodians, parent volunteers and students, show interest in reading and discuss books freely, students will view reading as something that is valuable and worthwhile. Well-stocked libraries: Students need a wide variety of books about an array of subjects and varied reading levels. School libraries that How Reading Incentive Programs Fail 89

are brimming with fascinating, visually appealing books will draw students in and inspire reading. Student choice: Students will read when they are free to choose according to their interests. Many teachers limit their students to specific reading levels or genres, which stifles student discovery and makes students feel manipulated and confined.

There are a number of school and public library reading programs that implement the best-practices components. There are several ways to employ library programming to support and encourage recreational reading without destroying the intrinsic desire to read. Book read-alouds and book talks generate interest in books, and book clubs give students opportunities to share and discuss books with their peers. Author visits can educate students about the writing process while at the same time inspiring reading. Ideal reading programs encourage students to read by providing books, time and expertise, allowing them to explore,S discover, learn and enjoy on their own accord (Beckham, 2011; Miller, 2010). In my own experience, the collective sigh of relief fromF my middle school students upon hearing that they no longer had to participate in the computerized reading program was loud enoughO to get my attention. When we scrapped the program in favor of freedom of choice, paired with displays and book talks from the librarian,O teachers, and fellow students, I began to have students bringing backR books with a huge3 smile, proudly informing me that they had never liked a book so much. Many students returned to the library with aP friend in tow; having heard1 about the book from the first student, the friend wanted to be the0 next to check it out. By presenting reading asP a valuable and pleasant2 activity, with no promises of payment other than the unequivocal joy of reading, I saw firsthand what this motivationA does. It brings students back to the books, willingly, happily, eagerly.I It encourages them© to try new authors, to explore new worlds, to share books and thoughts with others, and to learn and grow.

CONCLUSION

John Holt believed that students learned best when they were not manipulated by their educators but rather were given the freedom to discover the world on their own. Many librarians feel the exact same way about reading—that students learned to read and enjoy reading best when their desire to read was not manipulated and ultimately diminished by reading incentive programs. John Holt was not a librarian, but he did believe that libraries were an outstanding, natural, independent learning environment for students. I think that librarians would have to agree. 90 C. P. GARRY

REFERENCES

Beckham, S. (2011). Promoting the joy of reading without killing it. Knowledge Quest, 39(4), 50-54. Biggers, D. (2001). The argument against Accelerated Reader. Journal of Adolescent & Adult Literacy, 45(1), 72. Boucher, D. (2010). Accelerated Reader: A disincentive to creating life-long readers. California English, 15(5), 19. Farenga, P. (1999). John Holt and the origins of contemporary homeschooling. Paths Of Learning: Options For Families & Communities, 1(1), 8-13. Fawson, P. C., & Moore, S. A. (1999). Reading incentive programs: Beliefs and practices. Reading Psychology, 20(4), 325-340. doi:10.1080/027027199278385 Gilman, R. (1984). An interview with John Holt. The Way of Learning, 6, 46. Hansen, L. E., Collins, P., & Warschauer, M. (2009). Reading management programs: A review of the research. Journal of Literacy and Technology, 10(3), 55-80. S Holt, J. C. (1964). How children fail. New York, NY: Pitman. Kohn, A. (1999). Punished by rewards: The trouble with gold stars, Fincentive plans, A’s, praise, and other bribes. Boston. MA: Houghton Mifflin. Krashen, S. D. (2003). The (lack of) experimental evidenceO supporting the use of Accelerated Reader. Journal of Children’s Literature, 29(2), 9-30. Lant, J. L. (1976). Considering John Holt. EducationalO Studies, 7(4), 327. Luck, S. A. (2010). Accelerated Reader: The controversy continues—A literature review of the effectiveness of AcceleratedR Reader in increasing3 reading achievement and student motivation.P Illinois Reading Council 1Journal, 38(2), 3-9. McLeod, S. A. (2007). Simply psychology humanism. Retrieved0 from http:// www.simplypsychology.org/humanistic.html Meighan, R. (2007). JohnP Holt. London, England:2 Continuum. Miller, D. (2010, September 5). How to accelerate a reader. Education Week: Blogs. RetrievedI Afrom http://blogs.edweek.org/teachers/book_whisperer/2010/09/© reading_rewarded_part_ii.html Moore, T. (2001). Humanistic psychology. In B. Benis & A. J. Feldman (Eds.), Gale encyclopedia of psychology (Vol. 1, pp. 313-314). New York, NY: Cengage Gale. Pennington, M. (2010, January 24). The 18 reasons not to use Accelerated Reader. Teaching Resources to Differentiate Instruction—Pennington Publishing. Retrieved from http://penningtonpublishing.com/blog/reading/ the-18-reasons-not-to-use-accelerated-reader/ Smith A., & Westberg, K. (2011). Student attitudes toward Accelerated Reader: “Thanks for asking!” Current Issues in Education, 14(2), 1-6. Stauffer, S. M. (2009). Summer reading incentives: Positive or pernicious? Children & Libraries, 7(2), 53-55. Stone, P. (1980). John Holt: Homeschooling advocate. Mother Earth News. Retrieved from http://www.motherearthnews.com/Nature-Community/1980- 07-01/Plowboy-Interview-John-Holt.aspx How Reading Incentive Programs Fail 91

Tomei, L. (2004, October 15). An examination of humanism: The psychology of the individual student. Learning theories—a primer exercise. Retrieved from academics.rmu.edu/~tomei/ed711psy/human.htm Valett, R. E. (1974). Affective-humanistic education; goals, programs & learning activities. Belmont, CA: L. Siegler/Fearon.

FS OO PR 13 P 20 IA ©

CHAPTER 6

FIFTY YEARS OF BEHAVIORAL OBJECTIVES For Business or For Education?FS M. O’HARA Mark O’HaraOO December, 1980. It was my 12th week Rof student teaching—five3 classes and three preps of 11th grade English—when Jerry came running1 from the middle school wing, his unbuttoned shirt and tieP flapping over his shoulder, shouting, “He’s here! Dr. George is here!” 0 It was our bargain Pthat whoever spied our 2student-teacher field supervisor first would warn the others. I had sprinted on other days down to the sixth and seventh grade classroomsA to warn Jerry and Danielle—preservice social studies teachers— and today JerryI had spotted Dr. George© in the parking lot before first bell. “Headed to the high school,” Jerry sputtered. “How many times does he have to observe? This is number 8!” I hurried back to my classroom, grabbing my five-subject notebook and scribbling behavioral objectives:

Students will be able to identify parts of speech for words from vocabulary lesson 12 with at least 85% accuracy.

Curriculum Windows: What Curriculum Theorists of the 1960s Can Teach Us About Schools and Society Today, pp. 93–107 Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved. 93 94 M. O’HARA

Given a sentence with a strong context clue, students will be able to provide definitions for words from vocabulary lesson 12 with at least 85% accuracy.

That’s as far as I got before Dr. George appeared, and my students stood for the Pledge of Allegiance. During announcements the professor collected my lesson plan notebook and sat in the back of the room. Each day for 12 weeks I had written out plans for three different preparations—honors, college prep and general English— including title of the lesson, materials needed, instructional goals, behavioral objectives, activities, and assessment. (The assessment was supposed to be written after the lesson, of course, though sometimes we wrote them before, or wrote several on Fridays for the previous week.) Today, Dr. George would catch me one lesson plan short. My college had been founded in 1923, a Normal School for Women which, a few years later, became coed and replaced part of its name with “Teachers College.” The school started not long after the efficiency movement gave birth Sto increased measurements and fewer motions in business and industry fields; this same movement probably had a lot to do with the spawning of instructionalF objectives. A connection I am making now is that Dr. George likely owned a couple of copies of Robert Mager’s Preparing Instructional ObjectivesO; after all, the purchase price on my 1962 copy is only $1.75. In the 32 years since my student teaching,O I have been a practicing educator and creative writer, and Rthe major arguments3 I have against Mager’s viewpoints come from my life experience. First, I enjoy the rhetorical diversity lent by devicesP such as dialogue and1 counternarrative. In his Preface, Mager (1962) employs a short fable0 about a sea horse that wastes his “seven piecesP of eight” on a flipper2 and a scooter, only to be gobbled by a shark. The moral? Sea horse didn’t know where he was going in the Afirst place (pp. vii-viii). The implication? The instructor “must first Idecide upon the goals© he intends to reach at the end of his course or program. He must then select procedures, content, and methods that are relevant to the objectives” (p. 1). Although the formatting of the Preface appears engaging, with its short paragraphs, and quotation marks around the speaker’s words, the fable itself face-plants abruptly in service to the implied (and later stated clearly if repetitively) agenda that learning will not take place unless the teacher spells out her goals before the start of any instruction. This hard- bitten attitude precludes “teaching moments” that come up along the way, in classrooms or on field trips or on family vacations, all settings in which one could follow a brainstorm and reinforce important skills, especially in ways that seem fun and not based in lecture or formal curriculum. The assertion that all objectives need to be stated in advance of instruction is one with which Eisner (1994) takes exception: Fifty Years of Behavioral Objectives 95

The means-ends model of thinking has for so long dominated our thinking that we have come to believe that not to have clearly defined purposes for our activities is to court irrationality or, at the least, to be professionally irre- sponsible. (p. 115)

Effective teachers display interactive intelligence with students, deciding when a student needs words of encouragement or compassion, or when he or she needs a special service (p. 123). In my American literature class, when I digress from a lesson on Ben Franklin’s arrival in Philadelphia in order to talk about generosity or hospitality (referring to Franklin’s flat loaves of bread and his sleeping in the Quaker meeting house), I am not committing a pedagogical sin. Instead, I am stressing the responsibilities of good citizenship. And my lesson objectives include nothing about the democratic tenet of living well together; in fact, I have not written behavioral objectives since my first year of teaching, when my principal never asked for them. My plans today, in fact, consist of scant notes in squares of the lesson book, the majority resting in units that I have developedS across the years and constantly change, as well as in intuition generatedF by day- to-day classroom presence. I am by no means suggesting in this chapter that penningO behavioral objectives is entirely useless. That viewpoint might cause persons outside of the education profession to suggest that, if undergraduate educationO majors don’t really need training to come up with solid objectives and lesson plans, then3 why can’t we dissolve schools of education and merely hireR college graduates of any major? They wouldn’t possess actual teachingP certificates, but why couldn’t1 a plain old liberal arts music major step into a high school music class0 and do just as well as the music education major? Of course, this devaluation of education schools and majors is occurring inP American schooling right2 now, and was in fact happening in various formsA even during my undergraduate years. (I have a cousin who majored in IEnglish and was hired© in a New Jersey elementary, as long as she began taking education classes.) The title of today’s widely-publicized national program dubs noncertified college grads as patriots who teach “for America.” It is simple to follow a line of reasoning from the lack of teacher training to the deskill- ing of the profession through various methods, including corporate publishers that print scripts for the surrogate teachers to read to their classrooms! I am reminded of taunts from childhood friends of mine who attended public schools, some of which, in the middle-1960s, required certificated teachers, whereas the private grammar school that I attended was staffed by college graduates who did not necessarily have teaching licenses. These were the years during which Mager’s book was newly minted, the Cold War was escalating, and President Kennedy had followed President Eisenhower’s lead in citing Sputnik as a signifier of obstacles to American supremacy. Engendered by the military/industrial/scientific complex, the Space Race caused many Americans to turn a “stink eye” on American schools, in 96 M. O’HARA which math and science were apparently not being taught properly, or at least far better than in countries that were not America. Enter incarnations and permuta- tions of the efficiency movement, along with the demand for precisely written and measurable “instructional objectives.” In the Mager Years, Dick and Jane filled my head with stories as vacuous as those from McGuffey’s Readers a century earlier—stories that taught my grandparents to read but not to think. Memories of the 1960s still call up nostalgic scenes in which I’m playing kickball with my crew-cut classmates, after eating a lunch of Wonder Bread and baloney, with a fat, choco- late-covered marshmallow pie for dessert. A striking gimmick appearing in Preparing Instructional Objectives is the format. Throughout most of the book, only the right-hand pages are numbered, the majority of the left pages are blank, or contain notes to the reader or examples of behavioral-centered scenarios. Grounded in behavioral principles, the examples on many unnumbered (left) pages feature non-school settings. For instance, Mager (1962) writes that “[a]t one industrial organization, it became desirable to teach some Semployees ‘to be able to read electrical meters’” (p. 25b). “At a large training establishment operated by the government, a course wasF once offered in which students were to learn how to operate and repair a large, complex electronic system” (p. 2b). And from a regular (right)O text page, “one of the skills a missile maintenance man must develop has to do with the adjustment of a round TV screen called a OPPI” (p. 50). In the teaching of writing, as in so many other disciplines, it is helpful to cast3 ideas in real-life situations. In going about teaching hoRw to compose measurable objectives, Mager clearly targets an audienceP of readers in industrial/business1 fields, and only secondarily, readers in school settings.0 In The EducationalP Imagination, Eisner2 (1994, p. 120) traces the transformation of modifiers for the noun “objectives” in the public arena: in 1950 theyA were termed educational objectives, but in the years following—thatI is, during the 1960s—he© adjective changed to instructional. Finally, the major shift to behavioral or performance objectives in the late 20th century served not just a rhetorical but also a practical purpose. Because a performance objective may or may not be educational, the elision of ideology related to learning continued and, as Eisner (1994) states, “the normative aspect of education no longer is a part of the term” (p. 120). This discursive sea change has seen the appropriation of educational language that has essentially been reengineered by writers invested in the fields of business and industry, and now superimposed back upon institutions of learning, as exemplified by the phrase “enterprise university.” What do I say, then, to my cousin who stepped into a classroom situation without having to navigate the course work, classroom experience, or licensure procedures required of me? Or to my former student who, with only weeks of training, found herself teaching math in a large high school in New Orleans, just a couple of years Fifty Years of Behavioral Objectives 97 after the devastation of Katrina? For that matter, should the same accreditation be awarded to for-profit schools, which charge so much more than public universities, especially when many of their instructors meet their students only online? Universities are opening branch or regional campuses in response to needs for flexibility but also, no doubt, in reaction to survive—to be more profitable. And I have certainly discovered by this point in my career that acting superior or resentful is futile and nonproductive. Based on my experience across three decades, and having taken many “brick-and-mortar” classes to renew my licenses, and having entered a second master’s program at age 49 and a doctoral program at 50, I am arguing that there is no better way to prepare teachers, or to gain learning myself, than through the community of an instructor and colearners working in the same physical space. Mager (1962) is correct when he states that Preparing Instructional Objec- tives is not concerned with who should choose objectives, or what the objectives are. But I take issue with his assurance that the book “is NOT about the philosophy of education” (p. viii). Under the title onS the plain white cover of the paperback edition are the words “A book for teachers and student teachers … for anyone interested in transmittingF knowledge to others” (Mager, cover). In countless forms, however, Mager transmits an ineluctable message to educators: “If you find Osomething you feel sure you cannot measure, the place to put effort is in trying to develop some way to measure it” (p. 50b). Does this statementO not posit a clear philosophical stance? Educators’ efforts Rshould go into measuring3 everything that is important enough to teach—the idea is actually a simple one, but the epistemological point supportingP it is debatable.1 Robert F. Mager holds his PhD in psychology.0 My positions in this chapter have alreadyP raised some philosophical2 hackles, so I will allude to the relationship between educators and educational psychologists: it’s complicated. AAs a full-time teacher of high school English and a part-time graduate student,I I see slices of both© worlds. Public schools that can budget for psychologists hire them; underfunded public schools use guidance counselors, caring professionals but in most cases not trained in psychology or mental health counseling. Private schools rely on the public district where they are located to provide a “school psychologist”—on very limited loan. My observations as a classroom teacher in grades 6 through 12, in three districts, have shown me that a psychologist is mostly concerned with testing a student for a condition that will approve or deny the student for a special service. They are measurement specialists. Underlying any testing are multiple questions: Why is the test given? Who created and who will grade it, and what are the criteria to be met for mastery, or just for passing? Other considerations include retesting, curving, or grade inflation. Is it high-stakes testing, in which a district might stand to gain or lose federal cash? Or a state legislator-mandated 98 M. O’HARA test in which a student might receive only a certificate of attendance but not a diploma, unless the student has passed all parts of the test by graduation? Writing measurable objectives is different than creating meaningful assessment tools, and I am not denying that a good teacher works toward specific goals. But measuring precisely everything that is taught is not only impossible but impractically positivistic. Preparing Instructional Objectives— previously published as Preparing Objectives for Programmed Instruction” (Mager, 1962, copyright page)—was deemed one of the Museum of Education’s Books of the Century (Mager, 2000). The book’s influence over the last half-century has been huge; unfortunately, the benefits it has brought to the world of pre-K-12 education cannot be measured. The word “teachers” on the cover might be applicable to anyone “transmitting knowledge,” but almost all readers would view the phrase as naming “schoolteachers.” And if education professionals and apprentices are the target audience, why are so many of the examples in the book set in the worlds of business and manufacturing? Obviously, Mager’s choicesS reveal a key commitment in his thinking: schools and classrooms Fneed to perform more like businesses, tightening processes, measuring outcomes, proving their efficiency and productivity in order to be determinedO “of worth.” Many features in the book, including the format, are also problematic. For one, the book is condescending, intentionallyO or not. Learning to write the type of specific objective for which Mager became famous is not a task requiring an entire book. (WRe education majors probably3 learned the routine in less than one 75-minute lesson.) The1 volume is 53 right- hand pages in length (106 pages,P not including0 the “self-test” at the end), and most of those right-hand pages are not full of print. Yes, the format is a novel one, supplyingP the reader with examples2 and sending the reader to various pageA numbers to self-check answers, but also occasionally recording aI snide tone if the choice© is wrong. (“Come on, now! This test item is not appropriate to the objective as stated…. Return to page 33 and read the objective more carefully before selecting another answer” [Mager, 1962, p. 35]). Mager also provides lists of infinitives, some of which, such as to recite, to contruct, and to list, are open to few interpretations; others he calls “loaded,” as they are open to many interpretations, verbal phrases such as to really understand, to appreciate, to have faith in (Mager, 1962, p. 11). The implication is that a teacher should choose the more behaviorally-oriented construction. Do you notice the whit of contempt in this qualifier: “One need not consider himself an unmitigated oaf for using such words as ‘appreciate’ and ‘understand’ in his statements of objectives, provided you go on to explain what you mean by them” (p. 11b). Further, Mager casts a superior glance toward objectives written by most teachers during the time his book was published (p. 25). Fifty Years of Behavioral Objectives 99

In my undergraduate English methods course, Dr. Roseberg taught us to construct a standard lesson plan that included both “instructional goals”—more general in tone and more far-reaching in educational intent—and behavioral objectives (this was 1980, so “behavior” was more the focus than “education” in this context).

Instructional Goals: To strengthen students’ comprehension of the Shake- spearian sonnet. To increase students’ knowledge of the uses of active and passive voice.

Behavioral Objectives: Students should be able to define and give original examples of three types of irony.

Students should be able to construct an introductory paragraph containing a central idea and a thesis statement. S Dr. Roseberg also required us to make 100+ activity cards for our future students, and a unit plan containing lessons for two weeks on a topic weF could use in the classroom; she was available to consult were we to have questions or problems with student teaching. It was our field supervisor, Dr. George,O who caused us to change the word “should” in the objective to “will”—a more positive and aggressive agenda. He also suggested that we throw in what MagerO terms the “criterion of acceptable performance” (Mager, 1962, p. 49); I believeR we alternated the minimum3 standard between 80% and 85%. This numerical divergence is irrelevant, though, because in the stress-filled 16 weeks of studentP teaching, one does not 1usually have the time to reteach and retest entire classes. To this day, I will curve0 a test for a class or, more commonly, tutor and retestP individual students.2 How practical and how reachable were the objectives we were required to write? What I remember is the requirement to write three to fourA goals and objectives for each class, three times a day. Fifty yearsI after Mager’s book,© educators still attach extreme importance to objectives. Marzano (2011) comments that teachers too often copy objectives on the whiteboard for students to read, but never refer to them again (p. 86). He also suggests that teachers ask students to translate objectives into their own words: “This restatement helps the students translate the objective into specific actions” (pp. 86-87). None of the teachers that I have worked with or observed since my college days have displayed the behaviorally-specific objective on the whiteboard, SmartBoard, chalk- board, or any other board. I imagine that in certain situations, it might be amusing to witness students attempting to deconstruct the educationese contained in a Mageresque statement that flashes up on their iPads. If I were asking my students to perform this activity, I would also extend it by asking students to brainstorm applications in the “real world” of the desired behavior. For instance, in minutes a class of 25 students could list 100 M. O’HARA numerous occupations held by their family or friends, in which producing writing with a clear governing idea or thesis is important and routine. A challenge to any teacher of writing, however, would lie in trying to twist and turn a phrase into an objective steering the behavior of students into the production of an entire sophisticated and subtle essay. Certainly a model essay could be skeletonized into specific objectives and mini-lessons on, say, organization and unity, transition and tone. Engineering a competent essay would be within the reach of most students. Teaching how to compose a stunning essay would prove elusive. Try teaching voice. Use snippets of dialogue from Didion and Leonard, one- liners from Allen and Mencken. It’s like a basketball coach trying to teach a fourth-grader to be more aggressive on the court. “Get your hands up into her line of vision! If you can’t reach the rebound, always try to pop the ball loose!” the coach might repeat. The player can’t be made to master these skills—though knowing about them and practicing them in other settings might cause them to surface brilliantly in try-outs for the sixth- or eighth-grade basketball teams. S Marzano (2011) also advocates writing objectives targeting the same terminal behavior but isolating different skill levels. In Fa class in which multi-tiered objectives are used, students could trace their progress more slowly and surely, instead of “perceiving attainmentO of a target instructional objective as an all-or-nothing proposition” (p. 87). This approach seems backgrounded in practical classroomO experience and, more important, supported by a concern moreR with learning than achievement.3 Stu- dents with various skill levels—or in different tracks—could benefit through working at their ownP paces. Individualized1 instruction—if the district spares enough funding to give the teacher0 enough time—would ensure the success Pof more students in 2reaching the ultimate desired behavior. I still ask if writing objectives at varying skill levels actually suggests that theA objectives are not all measurable, or at least not reasonably within reach.I © Across the decades since the 1960s, some of the most stalwart supporters of precise behaviorally measurable objectives have relented to a degree. Popham (1972) describes his idiosyncratic campaigns promoting the effort through the printing and distribution of bumper stickers with slogans such as “Help Stamp Out Non-behavioral Objectives” (pp. 605- 606). By 1970 he had added the word “Some” to a new batch of stickers, and had started work on “The Instructional Objectives Exchange,” a collection from which teachers might draw relevant statements instead of complaining about having to compose original objectives for each and every fact and skill covered in their curricula (p. 607). The ambition in starting a bank of objectives is admirable, but it also displays a questionable stubbornness to enumerate, label, and quantify each item of knowledge without necessarily connecting it to societal value or experience— Fifty Years of Behavioral Objectives 101 without connecting it to useful thinking skills. The chasing of supposed efficiency in education also encourages administrators to require teachers to compose exhaustive lists of objectives, or at least to code their lesson plans with prepackaged objectives like those from Popham’s bank. (Either eventuality also adds more tasks to the glutted schedules of teachers.) In any case, by the early 1970s, Popham had conceded that some important goals for children were not currently assessable but were worth pursuing, even if educators could not tell if they had been accomplished (p. 608). That a professional educator—and not a trainer or programmer of mana- gerial protocol—should forsake the need for immediate measurement in favor of the possibility of longer-range learning, speaks of the necessity to adopt different approaches in the realms of education and business. I’m not sure what to think of articulation—the coordination of programs or curricula between grades and schools that’s intended to help students progress. I view articulation like it’s a new neighbor that I’ve invited for a backyard picnic and bonded with, but then I’ve seen it the next morning yelling at its dog. IS don’t dislike "articulation," but now I know what it’s capable of, and I’m wary. It’s easy for teachers in the same school, especially if they’re good friends teachingF the same subject at different grades, to decide where their courses should dovetail. But I’ve taught in districts in which all teachers got together onceO a year—the first day back in August—and we high school teachers never again had the chance in a regular school meeting to interact with the junior highO English teachers. So I ended up passing out copies of The Lord of theR Flies to a class in which3 a third of the students had read it in 8th grade. Or I’ve begun a unit on clauses with students who’d been drilled in grammar, and otherP students whose teachers1 had taught them to write well through Whole Language approaches, without0 driving home the names of grammatical structures.P In interviews I’ve conversed2 with principals who have shown me thick binders full of scope and sequence documents and courses of study and curriculumA mapping not just for the high school but the entire district—and one of thoseI principals commented ©on how the efforts to produce the binder were useless because the product was too large and unwieldy, and it gathered dust on the desks of administrators and in the classroom closets of department heads. This principal touted the efforts of a curriculum professor whose work was popular in the 1990s, who advocated concise curriculum guides in small, accessible formats. Truthfully, this principal, who was my boss for 12 years, was the only administrator I’ve worked under who seemed to have more than a light acquaintance with current or recent developments in pedagogical practices when he spoke to the faculty. Also, he was the only principal that I can remember to hire subs and give our department release time to work on curriculum development. Should Pre-K–12 teachers in the same district be granted more time to coordinate what and how they teach? (After all, in-service days are a needed break from classroom routine, and I’ve found that professional conversations are always morale boosters.) One answer comes from the 102 M. O’HARA state level, where departments of education are publishing online lists of objectives and academic content standards. What’s easier than to steer your teachers to their PCs where they can download the PDF with common core standards and begin to code their lesson plans? Looking at federal involvement, teachers can spot national core standards on the horizon. Whether school reform efforts begin at the local, state, or national level, it is not only the long-held tendency to regulate the writing of behavioral objectives, but the desire to remake the American education system that impinges upon the very integrity of teachers. Pinar (2012) writes:

The pressure upon us is enormous. Through legislation, teachers are mandated to betray their professional calling to teach their subject as they deem appropriate, structuring the curriculum around their and their students’ answers to the ongoing curricular question what knowledge is of most worth? (p. 40) S Any discussion of curriculum, especially when it involvesF determining goals and objectives, content and methods, is steered by the experiences and agendas of those in control. If trained and experiencedO educators are not the ones guiding the discussion, then it is especially crucial to question and trouble the decisions that are made.O In fact, in a democracy, all stakeholders—the people whose children and community are affected by curricular decisions—should have theR right to select which3 knowledge is most important and therefore should be covered in school.1 After all, even those perceived as knowledge P experts disagree about what should be required knowledge (Newman & Wehlage, 1995,0 p. 19). What learning would be most beneficial?P What are the 2best ways to live together in a democracy? These questions are likely to be ones that most stakeholders would agree areA important. But what about differences in region, ethnicity, gender, or Iability? What groups ©stand to be excluded in what is identified in behavioral objectives, particularly ones that dictate very specific performance criteria? I am suggesting that educators choose goals and objectives that can be made to count—that can actually be implemented, instead of ones that sound rhetorically charming or that are noble but too remote to reach. Viewing a school day or even an academic quarter at eye- level, I can identify a staggering number of interruptions to instruction, ranging from picture days to assemblies, field trips to weather emergencies, family vacations to retesting failed sections of state exams. Sizer (1985) writes about the lack of connection between written goals and the goals resulting from school practice:

Most striking is the gap between statements about “self-realization and mental and physical growth” or “moral and ethical values”—common rhetoric in school Fifty Years of Behavioral Objectives 103

documents—and practice. Most physical education programs have neither the time nor the focus really to ensure fitness. Mental health is rarely defined. (p. 81)

Sizer is known for criticizing the ways in which American schooling has developed, how high schools, for example, employ “systematized, con- veyor-belt” methods (p. 83). Because the design of most American schools itself tends to put students “at risk,” it makes sense for district officials to identify goals and objectives that teachers can attempt to implement, even if they are hard to measure. In recent decades, one of the salient “ends” has certainly been standardized testing. While the means or methods used to reach high-stakes objectives are many, the objectives themselves are set solidly by state agencies. Just as there are students with IEPs in most American schools, there are students granted accommodations when they take their standardized tests. I am not concerned with discussing levels of these accommodations, although I cannot help thinking that many tests are administeredS not merely to discover a student’s competence but to categorize a student’s performance. And how many students would qualify for testingF accommodations or special services but do not take advantage of their eligibility because they fear stigmatization or they simply Oare not aware that they might qualify? About one-sixth of all Americans are disabled in some way, and this figure does not include people whoO wear eyeglasses or who have learning disabilities (Siebers, 2011, p. 71). When such large3 numbers of students with physical, developmental,R and psychological disabilities take a state test, rigid objectives certainlyP limit accessibility,1 even when accommodations are made available. 0 Using theories associated with disability or special education might temper the tendencyP to teach nothing that2 is not measurable. Scholars such as Bagnato McLean,A Macy, and Neisworth (2011) suggest that the very concept of Itesting—especially the© “high-stakes” type—is antithetical to the proper implementation of Early Childhood Intervention (2011, p. 251). From the point of view of both researchers and practitioners, an outstanding aspect of the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act is the individualization that can result in instruction tailored to each child’s needs (Bagnato et al., p. 249). Sizer (1985) weighs in with the observation that a “school’s goals should be universal, while the means to these goals will vary as the students themselves vary” (p. 81). Individualized instruction techniques would seem to be one answer to the question of access both to learning, and to passing tests. The possibility of individualized instruction and unique learning opportunities clashes with the specific behavioral objective. The trend that Mager assisted in establishing might have been born a century ago with profit-oriented business policies, but it reached majority a score of 104 M. O’HARA years after the Great Depression, after the American economy was cata- pulted out of the Second World War and sustained the belief that power was limitless. And make no mistake: Mager’s painstaking description of steps and procedures embedded in programmed instruction is power- centered. When he claims that the programmer “will sometimes have to define terminal behavior further by stating the conditions you will impose upon the learner when he is demonstrating his mastery of the objective” (Mager, 1962, p. 26), Mager’s positionality is exposed. I will grant that the masculine pronoun was not widely questioned in the middle of the Amer- ican Century, but other aspects of the construction are plainly aggressive. Learning is conditional and limited in this location, and there is no “give and take”; the instructor is regulating, managing, imposing the conditions upon the “learner.” It is this superimposition of language normally associated with education that further reveals the appropriate arena for such behaviorally precise discourse is not the education world but the world of business. In the manufacture of machinery or the design of anS application, there must be terminal steps and behaviors. But we are not asking enough of our children if we expect that everything we teachF them should be describable or measurable (Eisner, 1985, p. 113). Another salient argument against such discursiveO precision is exclusion. When it is plain the world is growing more complicated in its politics and social structures, it is too temptingO to conceive intentions that might expect uniformity and exertR control over all students.3 In an age of hyper-accountability, educators cannot ignore diversity among students. Especially in an atmosphereP in which administrators1 and teachers are expected to do more with less money 0and time, it is challenging to provide inclusiveP classroom settings or2 implement meaningful individualized instruction (Bagnato et al., 2011, p. 251). One segment of the student populationA that is marginalized through an overemphasis on objectives—andI the testing ©that shows if they are achieved—is poor test-takers. When Mager (1962) asserts that “a good way to explain to the learner the conditions under which he will be expected to perform is simply to show him some sample test items,” (p. 32) he offers practical advice, as no student enjoys being surprised on a test; however, he also reproduces the mindset that meaningful learning emerges only if it is tested well. In effect, Mager is so concerned with “behavior descriptions,” so concerned with educators being “well steeped in behavior theory” (p. 26b), that he constructs a binary between students who have achieved objectives (and therefore have scored well on the test) and those who have failed the test, whether it was because of lack of motivation or preparation, or because of an actual disability or disorder, whether learning, cognitive, or psychological in nature. Through statements like “The more objectives you include, the more successfully you Fifty Years of Behavioral Objectives 105 will communicate your intent” (p. 18), Mager advocates clarity and excellence, but also encourages teachers to strive for exclusivity in seeking “acceptable” behaviors. What was this 20th century focus on measurable objectives but objectivism—a technical and rational approach that hinders inclusive education? Its influence, according to Gallagher (2009), is broadcast by policymakers and the public, and by educators, resulting in countless “back to basics” movements, as well as adherence to adopting rigid curricula and their accompanying textbooks, many of which have frozen classroom instruction into vapid pedagogical scripts (p. 139). Special education professionals have increased numbers of students included in regular classrooms, but many schools maintain segregated classes and implement disciplinary curricula that demand compliance with authority. Such technical-rationalist approaches instruct students in obedience rather than school knowledge (Danforth, 2009, pp. 85-86). Awareness of the multitudinous needs of student populations causes me not to argueS in favor of complete inclusion, to the point of virtual elimination of separate classes; but I am also concerned for students who, because of theirF diverse needs, have less chance of exhibiting behaviors that fulfill the standards and objectives of precise measurement. O Examining this dilemma through a disabilityO lens might help. Siebers (2011) comments that R 3 disability studies might effect a sea change by asking that the inclusion- exclusion binary be reconceivedP in terms of accessibility1 and inaccessibility, thereby taking power and momentum from those0 on the inside and stressing that societies shouldP be open to everyone.2 (p. 94) Siebers’ observationA approaches the binary with a clear awareness of the hegemony Iin place since the beginnings© of American public education: classrooms are microcosms of a society that has collectively done little to eliminate both physical and social obstacles. Acknowledgement of this hegemony—of the structures that keep in place the power whose results grant or deny access to entering programs, or passing high-stakes testing, or reaching behaviorally-precise objectives—reflects Foucault’s theories of subjugated knowledges. Criticism, in this case assisted by scholarship in establishing a genealogy of accessibility, reveals and emancipates hidden historical knowledges and enables them to struggle against formal scientific discourses (Foucault, 1980, pp. 82-85). Like any minority theory, a disability filter would remind educators of the lingering benchmarks that keep students from “passing”; it might carry educative experiences closer to the obsolescence of the “bell curve” that distributes and categorizes grades and therefore the humans who attain them. 106 M. O’HARA

As a student or a teacher, everyone should engage in occasional nongraded experiences. In July of 1967 I arranged tiny ceramic tiles and added plaster to create an ashtray in craft summer camp (even though my father had stopped smoking and ashtrays were beginning to disappear from American households). That same summer, Dad drove the family from New Jersey to California and back; I learned about John Brown and Harper’s Ferry; about the Grand Canyon and Hoover Dam; even about bargaining with shopkeepers as I bought cowboy boots and a hand-carved mask in Nogales, Mexico. In the summer of 1993, my wife and I invited the children of friends to join our children in a neighborhood writing camp. Using our living and dining rooms, front porch and backyard, we encouraged a dozen 5-to-10-year-olds to create their own stories and scripts, some illustrated, recorded or videotaped, some dictated to adults who copied them down. We shared snacks and laughs all week. Two summers later, as our numbers grew, we moved to spare rooms in a local church, where we continued to draw autobiographical timelines, draft alternate endings to children’s stories, and perform skits. Always the last day of the 2 weeks featured readings, shortS plays, and wonderful food. Later we gained affiliation with the chapter of the National Writing Project located at the university in our city, and our kids were nowF the Young Writers. Visiting local theaters and museums, hiking trails and writing stories, our students never had a letter assigned to their creativity. I spentO hours preparing for these workshops, and they are among my most enjoyable moments of teaching. I never wrote an objective. O In this chapter as well as throughoutR much of my teaching3 career, I have resisted Robert Mager’s insistence that precise instructional objectives should start the courseP of everything that is taught1 in classrooms. One drawback of discursively defined behaviorism0 is that discourse itself is limited, especiallyP in describing subtleties2 of experience and qualitative understandings; further, any comparisons between industry and education are deceptive,A in part because individual children respond differently to the sameI stimuli (Eisner, 1994,© pp. 112-113). As a teacher I do not feel incompetent if I am unable to prove that each of my curricular activities has been steered by behavioral objectives, and I appreciate the vision of administrators who do not require me to do so. A classroom teacher must always be willing to welcome observers, and I would invite Dr. Mager or any behaviorist to watch me interact with my students as I work at developing their thinking skills and honing their educations, before they are exposed to the mindsets of business, or whatever vocation they choose.

REFERENCES

Bagnato, S. J., McLean, M., Macy, M., & Neisworth, J. T. (2011). Identifying instructional targets for early childhood via authentic assessment: Alignment Fifty Years of Behavioral Objectives 107

of professional standards and practice-based evidence. Journal of Early Inter- vention, 33(4), 243-253. doi:10.1177/1053815111427565 Danforth, S. (2009). Compliance as alienated labor: A critical analysis of public school programs for students considered to have emotional/behavioral disor- ders. In S. L. Gabel (Ed.), Disability studies in education (pp. 85-102). New York, NY: Peter Lang. Mager, R. F. (1962). Preparing instructional objectives. Palo Alto, CA: Fearon. Eisner, E. W. (1994). The Educational Imagination: On the design and evaluation of school programs. New York, NY: Macmillan. Foucault, M. (1980). Power/knowledge. New York, NY: Vintage Books. Gallagher, D. J. (2009). Searching for something outside of ourselves: The contradiction between technical rationality and the achievement of inclusive pedagogy. In S. L. Gabel (Ed.), Disability studies in education (pp. 139-154). New York, NY: Peter Lang. Marzano, R. J. (2011). Objectives that students understand. Educational Leadership, 68(8), 86-87. Newmann, F. M., & Wehlage, G. G. (1995). Successful school restructuring. Madison, WI: Wisconsin Center for Education Research. S Pinar, W. F. (2012). What is curriculum theory? New York, NY: Routlege. Popham, W. J. (1972). Must ALL objectives be behavioral? EducationalF Leadership, 29(7), 605-608. Siebers, T. (2011). Disability theory. Ann Arbor, MI: TheO University of Michigan Press. Sizer, T. R. (1985). Horace’s compromise: The dilemmaO of the American high school. Boston, MA: Houghton Mifflin.PR 13 P 20 IA ©

CHAPTER 7

A GLIMPSE AT FREEDOM, THROUGH THE WINDOW OF RACE IN SOCIETY AND EDUCATION FS Du Bois’ Mansart BuildsO Oa School T. VA U G H N TimothyR Vaughn 3 P 01 The Negro needs neitherP segregated schools 2nor mixed schools. What he needs is education. IA © —W.E.B. Du Bois

The oppressor, however, raises his voice to the contrary. He teaches the Negro that he has no worth-while past, that his race has done nothing significant since the beginning of time, and that there is no evidence that he will ever achieve anything great. —Carter G. Woodson

Curriculum Windows: What Curriculum Theorists of the 1960s Can Teach Us About Schools and Society Today, pp. 109–125 Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved. 109 110 T. VAUGHN

For if any be a hearer of the word, and not a doer, he is like unto a man beholding his natural face in a glass: For he beholdeth himself, and goeth his way, and straightway forgetteth what manner of man he was. —James 1:24, 25

In this chapter I attempt to show how W.E.B. Du Bois uses the framework of a novel to indicate to the reader that the Negro project is not yet finished, and he provides us a glimpse through the novel that allows us to peer through the window. He wanted to convey through his last project the depth of race, class, gender, spirituality, economics, and political issues that plagued and still plague American society. What is the purpose of a flame? A flame has the ability to destroy, restore, and replenish. Du Bois’ final works include three novels called “The Black Flame Trilogy.” These novels provide a glimpse into the historical counter-curriculum and hidden curriculum of the Negro community. The metaphoricalS use of the word “flame” signifies the destruction of the peonage of the Negro race, and how its members were able to restore and replenishF their community through the use of education as means of social mobility. The path and journey that Du Bois articulates in his trilogyO speak to the advancement of the Negro race and society at-large. In the second novel of his trilogy, MansartO Builds a School, Du Bois (1959) utilizes historical occurrences to deveRlop a window into the3 psyche of the Negro race; he further creates a window to provide the reader with an understanding of the importanceP of Negro education.1 Furthermore, it could be inferred that Du Bois created the character0 Mansart as a sort of representation of hisP thoughts and beliefs2 when it pertained to Negro education in the South. The character Mansart embodies characteristics of Du Bois, and DuA Bois superimposed his nature into the character Mansart. Du Bois wasI a part of the Negro© intelligentsia, and so was his fictional character Mansart. So, what was Du Bois’ flame illuminating? I suggest that Du Bois was fighting for three specific interests for the Negro community: first, he was fighting for the notion of creating historically Black colleges and universities (HBCUs) that would supersede historically White institutions of higher education, especially in the South. Second, he was fighting for the advancement of primary and secondary Negro education. And third, he envisioned that the Negro community would have the ability to mobilize its own resources and goods (i.e., through entrepreneurial endeavors) without the dictatorial and paternalistic presence of the White community. Du Bois (1959) tried to express the importance and place of HBCUs within the framework of American society. Specifically, in Mansart Builds a School, he focuses on land-grant institutions that were funded under the A Glimpse at Freedom 111 second Morrill Act of 1890, “which funded higher education by giving federally controlled land to the states” (p. xxv). Du Bois argued that the Negro is just as intelligent as his White counterpart, so it is important to cultivate the intellect of Negro children, women, and men. Moreover, Du Bois clearly points to the important fact that without the assistance of the federal government the establishment of many public HBCUs would not have come to fruition. Additionally, during the 1920s and 1930s it was still difficult for Negroes to attend predominantly White institutions of higher learning, and it was clear that without education the Negro had no place in American society except in performing menial and domesticated labor. Furthermore, Du Bois recognized that HBCUs exemplified a path- way toward developing the Negro intelligentsia and academicians. Hence, without the development of public land-grant HBCUs an immense amount of Negro children would still fall prey to illiteracy and alienation within American society. I would argue that Du Bois was concerned with the next Sgeneration and the generations to come, and that is why he pushed for the advancement of developing institutions of higher education forF the Negro community. If the Negro community does not have a space and place to cultivate the intellect, then the subsequent generationsO will fall into the same traps and pitfalls of the former generation. So, the significance of formulating a sound primary and secondaryO educational system for Negro children was an important topicR of discussion. Additionally,3 when it came to prescribing a curriculum that would be taught to all Negro children, the conversation was probablyP difficult, especially1 given the dam- aged view many Negroes had of the White racist0 states they resided in. Nonetheless, NegroP educators developed2 a way to successfully educate their own children and move them through the ranks of the educational hierarchy. TheA development of a Negro curriculum may have been the most controversialI issue during© the time of Du Bois because many Negroes believed that it was fine for the Negro to continue to work the land and perform menial labor. Du Bois would argue that it is important to develop the psyche and intellect of the Negro community, and not utilize a slave-like mentality when it comes to educating the “best and bright- est” within the Negro community. This is where Du Bois and Booker T. Washington differed within their curricular approaches for the Negro race. Du Bois wanted Negroes to move from having a slave-like mentality to having social and economic stability. This movement depended on each person receiving a strong, balanced, liberal education, not one dominated by the manual arts. Du Bois valued intellectual and/or mental labor over the practical and/ or manual labor; he thought that cultivating people’s intellects would move them up the social ladder quicker than working in the field. Du Bois 112 T. VAUGHN epitomized the term “Black intellectual,” he was by far the greatest mind of the 19th and early 20th century for the Negro, and he was definitely in the hearts and minds of those young Negro scholars who aspired to work in the academy.

Historical Context of the 1960s

The 1960s was a time of racial, social, and political unrest in the United States. It was a decade of struggle and victory, unity and division, death and life. With the world watching, the U.S. would have to live up to these words: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.” Many individuals fought for civil liberties for the Negro and others who were also disenfranchised. It took a unified mindset to destroy racial barriers that stood before those Freedom Fighters. Negroes and White folks joined together to try and dismantle the oppressiveS and violent force of “racism.” Their attempt to end racial segregation resulted in the Civil Rights Act of 1964, Voting Rights Act of 1965, Fand Civil Rights Act of 1968. However, even with the passage of these monumental laws, racial tension, oppression, and violence still residedO in the United States and still does today, at least 4 decades later. It is safe to argue that American societyO may never come to grips with the infectious epidemic called “racism.” Thomas Jefferson, one of the “founding fathers” of the United StatesR of America, was a 3White supremacist who believed in Black Pinferiority. Jefferson “asserted1 Blacks were mentally inferior, were ashamed of their color0 and wanted to be White, and that Black women preferred orangutans as sexual partners” (Ander- son & Kharem, 2009,P p. 17). The White race2 did not consider the Negro as a human beingA let alone a citizen of the United States. White Ameri- cans used literatureI to bolster their© ideological stance on the inferiority of the Black race. Keeping this in mind, the Negro psyche began to corrode, and racial violence began to accelerate within the country. As Woodson (1933) states:

There can be no reasonable objection to the Negro’s doing what the White man tells him to do, if the White man tells him to do what is right... The present system under the control of the Whites trains the Negro to be White and at the same time convinces him of the impropriety or the impossibility of his becoming White. (p. 23)

Undoubtedly, the Negro’s mind and soul were enslaved by the White race, therefore creating this “double consciousness.” Du Bois declared that “it is a peculiar sensation, this double-consciousness, this sense of always looking at one’s self through the eyes of others, of measuring one’s soul by the A Glimpse at Freedom 113 tape of a world that looks on in amused contempt and pity” (Du Bois, 2005, p. 14). The notion of double-consciousness created a psychological dualism, for the Negro, meaning Negroes struggled with their identities. Moreover, the Negro community battled with their “two souls, two thoughts, and two unreconciled strivings” ((Du Bois, 2005, p. 14). How- ever, they yearned for a way to merge their double selves. Eventually the Negro community challenged the treacherous claims presented by the White race; they joined together as community to explore their purpose and destiny. This is what Du Bois noticed about the Negro; he identified their resilient and unrelenting spirit to transcend the racially charged society they lived in. Du Bois’s mission was aimed at trying to disintegrate the pathological nature of the color line in American society. Furthermore, Du Bois attempted to shift the paradigm in the Negro community by bolstering arguments geared toward the advancement of educational access for those talented Negro scholars. Additionally, he recognized theS significance of education, and his foresight created opportunities for Negro students to experience education through a different lens.F At any rate, Du Bois was a visionary and a strategist; he understood the importance of creating spaces for Negroes and/or non-Whites. OHe was a revolutionary thinker and doer in the 95 years he lived on this earth. Moreover, he understood the struggles of the Negro andO the effects of having to live a life at times not worth living. And, Du Bois fought for peace3 and reconciliation, and through his struggles heR was humiliated, insulted, and abused. Finally, Du Bois declared thatP America would never1 get over the issue of race, and so he left the United States and went0 to live in Ghana where he later died. So, how are the struggles and turmoil2 of Du Bois’ own life connected to the curriculumP movements of the 1960s? In the late A1950s, Du Bois at the advanced age of 89, began to write a series of novels,I which he called© The Black Flame trilogy. These novels “demonstrated in full Du Bois’s ideas of the relations among the three forces: experience, history, and truth. The Black Flame mixes historical fact and fiction in the story of one man’s life” (Taiwo, 2004, p. 60). Du Bois (2007) wrote the first book, The Ordeal of Mansart, in 1957; he wrote the third book, Worlds of Color, in 1961. He also wrote a second book and it was published in 1959 right at the turn of the decade, and it was titled Mansart Builds a School. Du Bois’s Mansart Builds a School (1959) is an important text in that he articulates the historical malfeasance of the South’s White supremacist society and educational system. Du Bois may not hold the position of a conventional curricularist; however, he does provide insight and foresight to those scholars studying the plight of Negro education in the United States. Du Bois’ window provides a glimpse into how the problems of the 114 T. VAUGHN

Negro race seem unsolvable. Nevertheless, he attempts to illuminate the unwavering and relentless nature of the Negro race toward progress and improvement in American society. In Mansart Builds a School, Du Bois connects his personal struggles with the historical struggles of the Negro race in the early 20th century through the creation of his fictional character, Manuel Mansart. Du Bois places his nature into the character he created (e.g., Manuel Mansart). He provides a window into his world and life experiences through the creation of Mansart. Below I provide an elucida- tion of the five salient themes that resonate for me throughout Mansart Builds a School: race; the Negro community; social mobility; education; and curriculum. Furthermore, I attempt to provide pertinent information about Du Bois’ main character, Manuel Mansart. Hence, these five salient themes and Mansart provide a window for scholars interested in the plight of “The Negro Race” during the progressive era and beyond.S Overview of Mansart Builds a School F The novel Mansart Builds a School (1959) is aboutO the struggle towards advancing Negro education in the South, and more specifically in the state of Georgia. Mansart was a well-educatedO Negro who had been educated at Atlanta University. Mansart was a teacher at a country school in Atlanta, and he had plans to move Rto the state of Indiana,3 but the current superintendent (John James) of the Atlanta colored1 schools died, and he was asked to step into that position.P Mansart was0 the father of four children, and he was married to a beautiful woman who was his schoolmate at Atlanta University. MansartP was nothing 2like the former superintendent who was docileA in his approach when it came to interacting with White folks. Instead,I Mansart gave his© demands and told the White superintendent that he wanted respect and financial assistance to develop his school system. There were over 40,000 Negro children crammed into five schools, and all of the buildings were old, and all Negro schools had double sessions meaning that the children did not go to school all day. Obviously, teachers’ salaries and working conditions were detestable and inhumane in these schools. But, when Mansart became the superintendent of the Atlanta colored schools, things began to drastically change for the Negro teachers and students. Mansart demanded that those White leaders provide the proper resources and materials for the Negro school system in Atlanta. Furthermore, Mansart declared that Whites could no longer ignore the social and economic inequities that plague the Negro community, and it was time for the White community to support the advancement of the Negro as a race and community. Mansart believed in A Glimpse at Freedom 115 the idea of solidarity between the Negro and the White communities, but he also believed that it was best for Negroes to educate their own. Mansart was an exceptional superintendent and there was talk by the White leaders of making him the first Negro president of a state run college. Moreover, “Mansart is a ‘new type of Negro administrator,’ part of the first generation capable enough, and given enough autonomy from White oversight, to attempt to reform the Black educational system in the South from within” (Du Bois, 1959, p. xxv). In 1920, “Mansart became the president of the Georgia State Colored Agricultural and Mechanical College at Macon” (p. 72). He was president for 26 years, and his dream was to develop the Negro intelligentsia and labor force. The issues that Mansart faced seemed insurmountable because the majority of Negro colleges were under the control of White northern philanthropists. There were a few Negro private colleges that were funded by Negro churches, but those colleges were insignificant. Because most of the Negro college presidents had no powerS during this period in history, Mansart’s reign was atypical. Mansart’s life-work consisted of developing Georgia State Colored A&M CollegeF into a beacon of economic, social, and spiritual progress for the Negro community. Additionally, Mansart argued that Negroes were Ocapable enough to handle a curriculum that challenged them through the study of philosophy and the use of the scientific methods; heO challenged the status quo that stated that the Negro should tendR to menial and domesticated3 labor. Mansart understood that there was more for the Negro to gain by being educated than for the NegroP race to continue with1 the model that was present during slavery and postslavery (i.e., merely0 sharecropping and doing housework forP Whites). It was crucial2 that the Negro race shift the paradigm from just manual and/or menial labor to a more mental and intellectual typeA of labor. Hence, Mansart continually tried to develop and strengthenI the minds of his© race, but he also struggled with the fact that it would take both Negroes and Whites to come together and make meaning out of their existence. In the end, Mansart felt lost and dejected and he did not see the Negro and White race coming together (Pinar, 2012). Ultimately, “he was in a world apart—a worthy world, a world which must and would survive and yet, if it ever was to become a part of the White world, these worlds must understand each other increasingly. And they did not” (Du Bois, 1959, p. 261). So, it was Mansart’s life-work to try and bridge that gap between the Negro and White communities. Furthermore, it was through spirituality that the Negro community was able to make meaning of their existence and place in society. Spirituality embodies a deep connection with ritual, songs, religious expressions, culture, family, education, and the effect of history within the Negro community. Though it is known that Du Bois did 116 T. VAUGHN not adhere to organized religion because of his political beliefs (as a result of his commitment to communism), he still recognized the role and impact of spirituality in the Negro community. A connection to a divine deity does not necessarily mean that it is attached to a religious sect, but in most cases that is the norm. The Judeo-Christian faith and/or religious sect was offered to the Negro race during slavery, and through that process the Negro people gained strength, faith, perseverance, and tenacity to escape from their demise. Additionally, without their faith and trust in God, the Negro race would probably have ceased to exist in this country because it was the intent of many White folks to exterminate it. Spirituality is a window that allows the White and Negro race to open together to heal and be healed from ancestral atrocities. With spirituality comes hope, and hope gets illuminated by the window. Mansart recognized the importance of elevating his people through education, but he did not dismiss the fact that spirituality could open a window to observing issues of race, class, labor, and politics. Mansart understoodS that race and racism constituted the makeup of American society and culture, but he strategically utilized his intellect to fightF against the oppressive forces of racism. O Mansart’s Window to a ConversationRO About Race3 Manuel Mansart’s father was lynched on the night he was conceived. How might someone react to Pthis catastrophic event?1 Mansart did not suc- cumb to the violent and dehumanizing presence0 of racism even as it took shape in brutal termsP impacting his own life2 from the very beginning. He kept his eye on the prize and accomplished great feats during his lifetime that would foreverA transform the Negro community. Manuel Mansart was an astonishinglyI well-educated Negro,© who had brains and ideas. He was educated at Atlanta University, and he even completed some graduate studies there, too. Mansart was hired as the superintendent of the colored schools in Atlanta when his predecessor (John James) died. At the time, Mansart was in his late 30s and understood the struggles of the Negro, so his mission was to transform the lives of the Negro community utilizing education as a tool for social mobility. Mansart recognized the importance of being educated; he thought that being educated would produce a more equitable and just society. Furthermore, Mansart was later offered the position to become the first president of the Georgia State Colored Agri- cultural and Mechanical College at Macon (Du Bois, 1959, pp. 8, 72). Additionally, he cultivated the intellect of the Negro community and he strived to change and challenge the “Jim Crow” South during his academic and life work. Moreover, Manuel could never escape the racially A Glimpse at Freedom 117 charged hostile environment of the South. He understood the importance of race during his time, but he did not allow his race or the ubiquitous spirit of racism to deter him from his mission. Unfortunately, the idea of race was so ingrained in American culture that it saturated every facet of American life. Consequently, the Negro was constantly reminded that he/ she was inferior to the White race, and that the Negro would never be on the same level as the White race. Hence, Du Bois strategically engrafts the historical atrocities of the early 20th century to display the malicious, overtly racist actions of the White race on the Black race.

Race

Undoubtedly, it is evident that Mansart recognizes racial segregation within the state of Georgia and the South at-large. Moreover, the pervasive mantra of separate-but-equal still resounded clearly in theS heart of the South. In Mansart’s world, racism was a repulsive creature that gnawed incessantly at the oppressed and the oppressor; itF gained strength from those cruel and violent acts that left human beings lifeless and devoid of spirit. Du Bois (1959) declares that “inO the world of Manuel Mansart of that time there were separate churches and schools” (p. 72). Although, Mansart did try and cultivateO interracial relationships, his efforts did not have an immediate impact in the state of Georgia.3 Mansart realized that “he was in a world apart—aR worthy world, a world which must and would survive andP yet, if it ever was to become1 a part of the White world, these worlds must understand each0 other increasingly. And they did not” (p. 261). Furthermore, Negroes constituted one-third of the population of the stateP of Georgia during2 this time period, and Mansart knew that issuesA that revolved around race would have to be dealt with in the state. TheI psychological violence© of racism left the Negro as nothing more than a docile body, ready and willing to perform those tasks that were set forth by the oppressor. Carter G. Woodson (1933) states,

The American Negro has taken over an abundance of information which others have made accessible to the oppressed, but he has not yet learned to think and plan for himself as others do for themselves. Well might this race be referred to as the most docile and tractable people on earth. This merely means that when the oppressors once start the large majority of the race in the direction of serving the purposes of their traducers, the task becomes so easy in the years following that they have little trouble with the masses thus controlled. (p. 193)

It seems as if the Negro psyche is atrophied with false hopes of a utopian society built upon morals and virtuous tenets. The Negro believed that 118 T. VAUGHN the White community would support them in their endeavors to better themselves through providing them with educational opportunities. Moreover, Du Bois was cognizant of the racial violence that surrounded Mansart and himself. Du Bois (1968) proclaimed that “murder, killing, and maiming Negroes, raping Negro women—in the 80s and in the southern South, this was not even news” (p. 122); he goes on further to say that lynching “was a continuing and recurrent horror during my college days: from 1885 through 1894, 1,700 Negroes were lynched … and from 1910 to 1920, 52 to 99 Negroes were murdered by White mobs each year; a total of 807 persons” (Dubois, 1959, p. 30; Dubois, 1968, p. 122). In Mansart Builds a School, Dr. Baldwin, a White professor from Atlanta, describes the racial and oppressive nature of the United States; he proclaims, “We right here sought Liberty and established Slavery. We preached Brotherhood and built the Color bar. We taught our children that Negro Slavery was right and Negroes stupid, inferior and nasty” (Du Bois, 1959, p. 17). Moreover, Dr. Baldwin went further to sayS that the South “was developing a real Black criminal. That it Fwas investing in crime and making millions out of leasing convicts” (p. 19). Dr. Baldwin declares that this is why Southern jails are fullO of Negroes, and why Negroes are hanged and imprisoned for life. There was evidence that revealed that at least a fourth of the NegroO workers in the South were slaves of the state and they “were likely to become hardened criminals for life” (p. 19). However, the Negro counteredR the inevitability3 of Jim Crow enslavement by building his/her own utopian society1 separated from exploitation, oppression, andP violence. But how,0 realistically, could the Negro create a utopian society separated from racial tensions and violence? It seemed thatP the Negro community2 gained its strength through its connectionA to the metaphysical realm. Hence, the Negro community understoodI that the American South© was a cruel place, but its members also realized that their power and strength resided in a unified community built upon an unwavering faith in God. Negroes knew that they did not wield the power to completely separate themselves from exploitation, oppression, and violence; however, they did create spaces that edified their communal strengths. Through spirituality and faith in God the Negro community transcended the chaotic and destructive nature of American society. Du Bois appreciated the spiritual fervor of his community, and he knew that their faith inspired them to press toward the mark of solidarity and peace. The Negro community recognized the importance of the metaphysical aspects of life, and they placed their lives in the hands of God. Furthermore, their connection to God animated their inner-man, which gave them the strength to impart their wisdom and gifts to the next generation. A Glimpse at Freedom 119

Du Bois realized that the Black church was a beacon of hope, peace, and love. The American Negro needed a place to cultivate its gifts and talents, and the church served that purpose. The Negro community was obliged to stay segregated from the White community in certain components of their daily lives. Hence, Mansart articulates the importance of the Negro community and the benefits of having a community isolated from mainstream society (e.g., the White community).

Negro Community

Mansart had an optimistic impression of the Negro community; he perceived the colored world to “be a larger and more complete unified body” (Du Bois, 1959, p. 73). Du Bois (1968) proclaimed that his community was sort of a new world, due to isolation; he said, “There was among us but a half-awakened common consciousness, sprung from commonS joy and grief, at burial, birth or wedding; from a common hardshipF in poverty, poor land and low wages” (p. 120). Mansart had an awareness of the unified spirit of his community. Also, he acknowledgedO the lively and ambitious drive of the Negro community to take responsibility for its own affairs. The Negro community “organizedO itself for various local purposes like adorning the streets and fixing playgrounds and visiting the schools. There were united protests to the Rauthorities about clearing3 the streets and garbage removal” (Du Bois, 1959, p. 73). The Negro1 had the ability to create his/her own reality separatedP from the0 White man’s. In Mansart’s spirit, he believed that the American Negro was a chosen people, “a group dedicated to Pthe emancipation of the2 dark and tortured people of the world” (DuA Bois, 1959, p. 111). Many NegroesI were blessed to© have God-given gifts that were utilized to unite the world. First, American Negroes had a spiritual connection to music; Mansart explains that “music united all human beings, especially the Negro folk songs … Among Americans Mansart was aware of a new impulse, of a distinct emergence of an American Negro literature and art” (Du Bois, 1959, p. 100). In addition, Negro music engulfed the United States. Du Bois (1959) proclaims that “it came as slave songs in work and religion; it hummed in lullabies and dirges. It became Negro ballad and folk song” (p. 50). There was a surge of Negro musicians and poets such as Countee Cullen, Claude McKay, James Weldon Johnson, and many more, who aided in strengthening the persona of the Negro race. The American Negro achieved greatness and a sense of identity and self- expression through aesthetic genius. Moreover, the Negro community continued developing and transforming; the community went so far as 120 T. VAUGHN developing Black Nationalist movements (i.e., Pan-Africanism, UNIA- ACL, etc.). The Negro was trying to create a sense of identity and community, and at best wipe the stain of slavery from their souls. During the early 1930s, the Nation of Islam was seen as a positive religious sect for the Negro community because the tenets of the Nation of Islam empowered men and women to develop their own community separate from Whites. Ulti- mately, we must ask ourselves along with Du Bois, what manner of man is the American Negro? Du Bois thought the Negro was a peculiar being capable of accomplishing insurmountable feats. And, this is what Mansart believed; he believed that the Negro needed to rise above the racially stratified system, to build and protect a strong spiritual core in each citizen, and to develop a way to draw capital into their (Negro) community. Mansart knew the importance of building an economic infrastructure within his community; he knew that this infrastructure would create social mobility for his community. S As president of the Georgia State Colored College, Mansart stressed the importance of creating jobs for his community. HeF wanted his students to have the best training in not only cooking, sewing, and agriculture, but he wanted them to be trained in cottonO spinning, weaving, embroidery, metal work, automobile repairs, and a plethora of other things, too (Du Bois, 1959, p. 96). Mansart’sO aspirations did not go unmet because he had two major challenges:R the cost of3 machinery and opposition from White trade unions. It was obvious that the White trade unions would voice their oppositionP toward training1 Negroes in the areas of carpentry, bricklaying, and plumbing. Furthermore,0 these White trade union workers did notP want state money 2to be used for training Negroes (Du Bois, 1959, p. 96). Nevertheless, Mansart’s students were allowed to help with the Aconstruction of various buildings around the campus. It was said that “eventually,I the Trustees© decreed that Negro skilled labor must be used where competent and available. The White unions did not dare fight this; but they admitted as few Negroes as possible” (Du Bois, 1959, p. 109). Mansart wanted to create industry within his own community, but the Negro did not quite fully see Mansart’s vision. On the contrary, Woodson (1933) argued that Negroes did not support each other; in fact they believed that Negro businesses would fail.

Social Mobility

Woodson (1933) describes this concept as the mis-education of the Negro. Social mobility can only come with the establishment of community-based businesses, but the Negro did not understand the importance A Glimpse at Freedom 121 of building an economically independent community. Many believed that Negroes could not run their own businesses, and Woodson refuted that statement by saying,

Negro business men have made mistakes, and they are still making them; but the weak link in the chain is that they are not properly supported and do not always grow strong enough to pass through a crisis. The Negro business man, then, has not failed so much as he has failed to get support of Negroes who should be mentally developed sufficiently to see the wisdom of supporting such enterprises. (p. 42)

Woodson and Mansart had this incredible vision of what the Negro community could become, and they realized that if the community was divided it could not stand against the perils of society. Woodson identified the problem in the Negro community, and Du Bois, through Mansart, was trying to bring about a solution to that problem. They both valued education, and they knew that Negroes needed a proper educationS to maneuver through American society. The question is what kind of education should they receive? OF Education O Historically, Negroes were beingR educated in the U.S. 3even during the times of slavery. Anderson and Kharem (2009) explain that “as early as 1787, Prince Hall, a Black RevolutionaryP War veteran,1 advocated for Black public schools and petitioned the Massachusetts0 legislature to educate Black children” (p. 167).P For instance, African2 Free Schools were created by the New York Manumission Society in 1787. The Manumission Society “set out to accomplishA their ideology through the African Free Schools by indoctrinatingI the children with© Anglo-Protestant ideas and demeaning their African culture” (p. 10). The Society developed these schools to show Whites that Negroes could be educated if only given the opportunity. Whites thought Negroes were ignorant and lacked morals and values; therefore, the Society sought to prepare a Negro elite/middle class “that would shun their allegedly inferior Africanness and slave culture (p. 10). However, Negroes used the African Free Schools as “the vehicle for upward economic mobility for their children” (p. 11). Whites were fearful of the Negro community, and they believed the Negro would try to rebel against the system. Whites did not want competition in the labor force nor did they want Negroes succeeding economically. Woodson (1933) declares that “the thought of the inferiority of the Negro is drilled into him in almost every class he enters and in almost every book he studies” (p. 2). Nevertheless, there was a great push for the advancement of Negro education especially 122 T. VAUGHN by Whites, according to Anderson (1988), who would use “education” (or manual training) as a means for further subjugating freed Blacks. Understandably, Negroes believed that it was their responsibility to shape their own education. William Channing Gannett said, “they have a natural praiseworthy pride in keeping their educational institutions in their own hands” (Ander- son, 1988, p. 5). John W. Alvord, the national superintendent of schools for Freedmen’s Bureau, declared that Negroes had “native schools” in the South, and these schools were similar to “common schools.” With the move toward “native schools,” Negroes began to develop a self-sustaining system for improving their lives (Anderson, 1988, p. 5). Moreover, the Negro desired help from the White community, but they did not want them to control their educational endeavors (Anderson, 1988, p. 5). Self-help and self- determination were two values that the Negro hoisted in their community and educational system. This is why Mansart fought against White supremacist ideology and fear tactics because he envisioned the creationS of the Black intelligentsia. Mansart realized that educating the Negro was his God-given responsibility and that if the Negro receivedF an education it would make them an unstoppable force. White Southerners refused to believe that Negroes could build their own systemsO of education. White Southerners began to direct the path of Negro education in the South. Additionally, White Southerners assumedO the burden of building the Negro school system, and stated thatR “White education must3 take prece- dence over Negro in time and cost” (Du Bois, 1959, p. 64). So, obviously Negroes had poor and wretchedlyP inadequate schools.1 A White Southern philosophy was that “the Whites should have the0 better schools because they pay most of the taxesP and have better brains;2 Negroes should have schools, but schools suited to their needs” (Du Bois, 1959, p. 65). White Southerners thought it wasA necessary to train Negroes for specific menial tasks and then use that trainingI to continue to exploit© them. Tuskegee and Hampton were models for this type of educational movement; these two colleges trained Negro students to work for big businesses during the early 20th century. Meanwhile, White Southerners continued to forge ahead of the Negro in education and industry. Southern Whites wanted the Negro to know his place and stay in it; they did not want the Negro to elevate in social status. They did want the Negro to have some educational opportunities, and they thought educating the Negro would serve a greater purpose for the United States. Du Bois (1959) so eloquently presents Mayor John Baldwin’s thoughts about educating the Negro; he said, “what we want to do is outstrip them, keep the White race so far ahead that they will be breathless from trying to pursue us” (p. 13). Also, Baldwin argued that White schools should be superior to Negro schools. These notions of White superiority spilled over into the curriculum. A Glimpse at Freedom 123

Curriculum

During Mansart’s lifetime it was commonplace to see Negroes performing menial tasks (i.e., cooking, cleaning, sewing, etc.). Unfortunately, Negroes were told they would never reach higher levels of achievement, but that their achievement was in knowing their place in society. These notions were spewed out in the formulation of curricula based in White supremacist ideology. Woodson (1933) states,

a White instructor gave a course on the Negro, using for his text a work which teaches that Whites are superior to the Blacks…. Even schools for Negroes, then, are places where they must be convinced of their inferiority. The thought of the inferiority of the Negro is drilled into him in almost every class he enters and in almost every book he studies. (p. 2)

Woodson strategically noted the ways in which the White race shaped curricula that demoralized and alienated the Negro community.S Woodson explained that traditional curricula of the times did not include the Negro except to condemn or pity him (p. 17). WoodsonF explains the White supremacist ideological framework within curriculum development; he states that in geography, sciences, the studyO of language, literature, fine arts, medical schools, and historyO the Negro was eliminated or was depicted as inferior to the White race (pp. 17-21). Furthermore, Woodson argued that Negroes hadR no control over their3 education, and Negro teachers were powerless (p. 22). So, Woodson claimed that Negro educators who were educatedP by White folk would go1 back and indoctrinate the community with White supremacist ideals.0 If a Negro was educated by a White instructor,P then the Negro’s2 mind was enslaved and not able to escape the agenda of the White race (p. 23). However, Mansart perceived theA Negro as an intelligent being who had gifts and talents to share with Ithe world. Mansart recognized© that the Negro community was ignorant. Negroes did not have an understanding of Negro history, so Mansart implemented Negro history within the curriculum as superintendent of the Colored schools in Atlanta (Du Bois, 1959, p. 40). Moreover, when Mansart became the president of the Negro college, he had to implement curricula that suited the needs of the Negro community and society. The White race formulated curricula that demoralized the Negro’s psyche, cultural traditions, and spiritual connection to nature and the metaphysical realm. Mansart knew the White Southerners’ tactics and he did not concede or accept their stance on education. Mansart valued liberal education and vocational training, but he would not tolerate the stereotypical notions of Negro labor in society (i.e., cooking, cleaning, sewing, etc.). Instead, he advanced the idea that Negroes could become masons, carpenters, mechanics, and metal/textile workers. Mansart 124 T. VAUGHN understood the importance of reading and writing for the development of the Negro. When a Negro learns how to read and write, then he is prepared to function properly in society. With knowledge comes understanding, and the Negro needed understanding to excel in the South. The Negro needed the opportunity to receive an education and a higher education to advance the community. Mansart envisioned curricula that included history, physics, sociology, and philosophy. He wanted the Negro to have the opportunity to become a doctor, lawyer, minister, and teacher. However, there were difficulties with the Negro industrial schools; for instance, the Negro teachers who taught industry were not well-mannered individuals. Mansart “wanted a well-bred and well-mannered person who knew the world and its amenities, and who talked good English easily” (Du Bois, 1959, p. 97). His reasoning for developing a curriculum that stressed manners and culture was that the White world was always criticizing the Negro world (Du Bois, 1959, p. 97). It was important for Mansart to reimagine the curricula for the Negro, and his ingenuity and intellect created a space for theS Negro to advance in the academy. Mansart’s curriculum development methods were strategic and purposeful for the Negro community in theF South. Mansart tried to build a legacy for his community; Mansart tried to build a new legacy for his community, based on a rich legacy thatO had been tarnished by the institution of slavery. His foresight afforded him the responsibility and privilege to communicate to the Negroes andO the White world. Mansart was constantly trying toR simultaneously open3 the window of hope and build a bridge across troubled waters; he was trying to merge the two worlds together. TheP flame is that glimpse 1of hope through the window, and that flame also illuminates the0 path across that bridge towards coming togetherP as a united community2 of brothers and sisters in America. Mansart felt torn in his spirit, it was as though “he was in a world apart—aA worthy world, a world which must and would survive and yet, if it everI was to become a part© of the White world, these worlds must understand each other increasingly” (Du Bois, 1959, p. 261). The Negro and White race could not advance unless they advanced together. All in all, Mansart wanted deeply to cultivate and humanize relationships within the White and Negro communities. This was Du Bois’s vision of America, a country were citizens would not be judged by the color of their skin but by their character. Du Bois wanted White citizens to respect and value the Negro. The curriculum movement of the 1960s produced major changes and advancements in education. However, it was evident that the Negro still did not have a voice or place in the conversation. There were some Negro curricularists during the 1960s, but their research was not a part of the mainstream curriculum development movement. According to Pinar, curriculum development died in 1969, and curriculum understanding was A Glimpse at Freedom 125 born (Pinar, 2012, p. 6). Even though Du Bois was not considered a traditional curricularist, his work is a curriculum in and of itself. The Black Flame Trilogy is a culmination of Du Bois’s life experiences as embodied by his character Manuel Mansart. If the souls of Black folk could really talk, they would proclaim that America is a bastion of White supremacist ideals. However, those ancestral souls still see an America that may one day place their ideals of race to the side and recognize the importance of humanity.

REFERENCES

Anderson, J. D. (1988). The education of Blacks in the south, 1860-1935. The Univer- sity of North Carolina Press: Chapel Hill, NC. Anderson, N. S., & Kharem, H. (2009). Education as freedom: African American educational thought and activism. Lanham, MD: Lexington Books. Du Bois, W.E.B. (1959). Mansart builds a school. New York, NY: Mainstream. Du Bois, W.E.B. (1968). The autobiography of W.E.B. DuBois: A soliloquy onS viewing my life from the last decade of its century. New York, NY: International Publishers. Du Bois, W.E.B. (2005). The illustrated souls of Black folk. Boulder,F CO: Paradigm. Du Bois, W.E.B. (2007). The ordeal of Mansart. Oxford, England: Oxford University Press. O Du Bois. W.E.B. (2007). Worlds of color. Oxford, England: Oxford University Press. Pinar, W. (2012). What is curriculum theory? (2ndO edition). New York, NY: Rou- gledge. Taiwo, S. L. (2004). The effect of Cooper’sR A Voice from the South3 on W.E.B. Du Bois’s souls and black flame trilogy. Philosophia Africana,1 7(2), 59. Woodson, C. G. (1933). The mis-education P of the Negro. Washington, DC: The Associ- ated Publishers. P 20 IA ©

CHAPTER 8

BEYOND PROJECT VERSUS PROCESS Searching for Progress in EducationFS S. HAYES, SaraS. SANDER, Hayes, AND Scott B. Sander, LEWELLEN andO BeckO Lewellen Let’s play a game. We will provide Ra list of words and as3 you read them, allow them to conjure up images in your mind. Ok, 1here we go: Fab Four, establishment, bell bottoms, P Cold War, peace,0 Haight Ashbury, ‘nam, square. What have you come up with so far? Are you picturing them separately or are they Pworking together resulting2 in an overall feeling or impression? Let’s add a few more: civil rights, Twiggy, communist, Little Rock, protestI Amarch. What picture© do those words paint for you now? What messages do these words convey? What memories do they invoke? For many readers they might not mean much at all. For some they may form fuzzy images based on something they’ve been told or read about in a history class or book. But for others who are old enough to have lived experiences with these events, they paint a picture of the 1960s, one of the most volatile decades in recent U.S. history, both culturally and educationally. It was in the beginning of this decade of immense cultural change in the United States that Jerome Bruner published The Process of Education (1960). The book outlines recurrent themes and gives an overall sense of

Curriculum Windows: What Curriculum Theorists of the 1960s Can Teach Us About Schools and Society Today, pp. 127–145 Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved. 127 128 S. HAYES, S. SANDER, and B. LEWELLEN what transpired at the 1959 Woods Hole conference, which was aimed at “improving the dissemination of scientific knowledge in America.” The conference occurred in response to the 1957 launch of the Soviet Union’s satellite, Sputnik, the first satellite to be put into Earth’s orbit. As will be detailed later, this event precipitated the “Space Race” and deepened the anxiety and increased the focus of government, business, and everyday citizens about the inadequacy of the United States’ education system. The emphasis on education (especially mathematics and science) didn’t last as the mid-60s saw another Sputnik-like event draw the nation’s attention toward social issues. The unpopular war in Vietnam and a variety of social problems here at home shifted the focus of the country. The pendulum had swung and the ideas of Jerome Bruner (among other educational curricularists of the 60s) faded into the shadows. This chapter (and this book) is about reviving these ideas and opening the windows of dialogue and debate about what is the purpose of education today and where we are headed tomorrow. S At a time when standards for a national curriculum are being revealed, it would seem that all the questions surrounding educationF have been decided, that nothing is left to discuss, case closed. What can we do if we don’t agree with the decisions that have been made?O What if we feel the current path of education is the wrong one? What can be learned by curriculum reform efforts of the past? How canO we reopen that window to the ideas of the 60s, continue to developR their unfinished stories,3 and examine education from a different perspective than the top-down mandated one we all have been subjectedP to most recently? In1 this chapter, we look to trouble the current situation and complicate0 the conversation (or at least revive it) with Pmore questions, and none2 better than that of Jerome Bruner himself, “what shall we teach and to what end?” Consider this case, reopened. A The analysisI of Bruner’s work© will be gin with a fairly detailed account of the turbulent 1960s. It’s important for us to situate Bruner’s work con- textually for far too often his ideas (along with other curriculum scholars of the 60s) and what they do say are misinterpreted or alternately, unfairly attacked for what they don’t. We see Bruner’s insights as still valid and relevant to educational issues today, but the ideas put forth must be understood as products of time, place, and circumstances. Our approach will highlight these connections using personal vignettes and examples to interpret The Process of Education. What can we learn from the work of Bruner and how can it help education today? Whether you lived through the 60s or have only read about them we look to blend both epistemolo- gies in order to capture the true essence of Bruner’s work. While we fully acknowledge the dynamic complexity of education today that involves a myriad of social, cultural, and affective aspects, the goal of this chapter is Beyond Project Versus Process 129 to clarify and interpret what Bruner does put forth, how his work still provides a path for further development, and how it serves as the base of the spiral for the conversation which is later expanded by other curriculum scholars of the 60s. In combination, the curriculum efforts throughout the 60s open windows where we are able to once again view powerful lessons from yesterday (past) that still hold true today (present) and can help guide our tomorrow (future).

Historically Situating Curriculum in the 60s: The Pendulum Swings

Prior To Sputnik, The Life-Adjustment curriculum was popular. Practical, process knowledge was favored over academic content knowledge. Prob- lems of everyday life were the focus of school in preparation for the “job of living.” The intent was a curriculum that would apply to stuSdents of all abilities and social status. This sentiment can be found in A. H. Launcher’s address to the National Association of Secondary-SchoolF Prin- cipals in 1951, “When we come to the realization that not every child has to read, figure and spell … that many of them eitherO can not or will not master these chores … then we shall be on the road to improving the junior high curriculum” (Hofstadter, 1963,O p. 18). While that quote may make many current educators shudder,R it exemplifies the 3meager emphasis placed on pure content knowledge and a much different perspective than today’s standards-basedP focus on answers. 1 Even in the 1950s there were critics, such as Arthur0 Bestor and Admiral Hyman Rickover (Pinar,P Reynolds, Slattery,2 & Taubman, 2008), who strongly opposed the Life-Adjustment movement calling for a back-to- basics reform,A focusing on long established disciplinary subjects and content knowledge.I The debate of© what was to be taught in public schools became national in scope with headlines decrying the state of public education. Should our schools focus on open-ended, process-thinking or more project-focused content knowledge? During this ongoing debate, research level scientists and mathematicians, who had been heavily involved in the war effort of World War II, were advocating for changes in the ways science and mathematics were taught. This group was advocating for a combination of process and project that would be a closer match between their work in the laboratory and the work done in classrooms. So on a continuum, if the Life-Adjustment crowd was at the far left and the back-to-basics crowd was at the far right, the mathematicians and scientists would have fallen somewhere in the middle. All things being equal, it is hard to determine which group would have prevailed because in 1957 the narrative changed and shifted public opinion strongly to the right. 130 S. HAYES, S. SANDER, and B. LEWELLEN

Following the Russian’s launch of Sputnik, America felt that its national security and technical supremacy, as evidenced by the development of radar and the atomic bomb, were threatened. The popular press laid the blame for the Soviet advantage on the nation’s schools for their lack of rigor. President Eisenhower reassured the American public that the nation was secure, but that for reasons of national security, science education was going to receive special consideration. Less than a year after the launch of Sputnik, Congress rushed to prepare the nation’s first comprehensive education bill, the National Defense Education Act (NDEA). This act placed an increased emphasis on content knowledge. NDEA autho- rized federal expenditures of over $1 billion dollars ($8.1 trillion 2012 dollars1) for “new school construction, fellowships and loans to encourage promising students to seek higher education, new efforts in vocational education to meet critical manpower shortages in the defense industry, and a host of other programs” (Dow, 1997, p. 1). This effectively eliminated the Life-Adjustment movement from the conversation. S Sputnik shifted the focus of what was going to be taught toward content knowledge, now the question remained as to how this contentF should be taught. The National Science Foundation (NSF) was largely responsible for shaping the science and mathematics curriculum Oreform in the 1950s and 1960s. Their intentions were to move curriculum away from the longstand- ing tradition of teacher-centered methodsO and toward one based more on inquiry and discovery. For the first timeR a national, top-down3 approach was used to address the low state of high school science education as the NSF implemented summer institutesP to update and deepen1 discipline training to teachers across the country. NSF personnel stated,0 “the teacher is the key … but the teacher mustP have the tools, the2 course content, the curriculum” (Rudolph, 2002, p. 8) to bring the country’s science and mathematics education into competitionA with the Soviet Union. In 1958, using committees of prominentI scientists, mathematicians,© and engineers, the NSF became involved in a host of “alphabet” curricula that eventually included: PSSC (Physical Science Study Committee), SMSG (School Mathematics Study Group), BSCS (Biological Sciences Curriculum Study), Chem Study, ESCP (Earth Sciences Curriculum Project), SAPA (Science: A Process Approach), and M:ACOS (Man: A Course of Study) (Bybee, 1997). The common theme running through all funded curricula was that the content should be taught through inquiry-based methods. Many of the same scientists and mathematicians working for NSF were also among those invited to attend a 10-day conference held at Woods Hole, Massachusetts, to continue the discussion on how science education in the United States could be improved. Bruner, the cochair, stated that, “the intention [of the Woods Hole conference] was not to institute a crash program, but rather to examine the fundamental processes involved in Beyond Project Versus Process 131 imparting to young students a sense of the substance and method of science” (Bruner, 1960, p. xvii). Bruner and his colleagues were opening a window on content learning that had not been opened previously. They wished to structure the disciplines to mirror the practices in their own work. To know science and mathematics, students should experience the disciplines, as do scientists and mathematicians. It would be nice to say that all of their efforts paid off and everyone learned happily ever after. Unfortunately, when it comes to education, things are never that simple or straightforward. While curriculum reform efforts did manage to make some changes, overall they were ineffective at turning the vision into a reality. So what went wrong? For us, it’s not so much what reformers did wrong as it is what was overlooked. While the curriculum reformers may have had the funding and collaboration needed to make substantial changes, the complex web of educational change requires a much bigger net. PSSC is a good example of this type of curricula that shows the radical difference between formationS of a curriculum (theory) and its implementation in classroomsO (practice).F Physical Science Study Committee (PSSC): An Example of 60s Curriculum ReformO In the early 1950s, Jerrold Zacharias,R an MIT physics professor3 who had been deeply involved in theP creation of the atom bomb,1 was concerned that fewer than 25% of U.S. high school students0 studied physics and that the physics curriculum was inadequate and out-of-date (French, 1986). He approached physicsP curriculum reform2 in the same way that war scientists had successfullyA approached other projects—with a massive and coordinated teamI effort. PSSC was© comprised of university physicists, educational specialists, and high school physics teachers. Led by Zacha- rias, with an initial grant of $300,000 from the NSF, the group began to create a complete physics course from the ground up (French, 1986). This group had the funding and collaborative nature required to make a significant impact on science curriculum. The committee wanted to develop a physics curriculum that presented physics to students as not just mechanical rules to learn, but as an integrated intellectual activity. The important difference between the PSSC curriculum and the standard physics curriculum at the time was the aim of presenting the study of physics in terms of

both theory and experiment as the process of successive approximation, not as definitive or final knowledge … the goal was to get students to think and 132 S. HAYES, S. SANDER, and B. LEWELLEN

act like professional scientists: to learn to ask questions, collect and analyze data and form reasoned conclusions. (French, 1986, p. 30)

Traditional forms of teaching had students listening to or reading about science, now students were going to be expected to learn as scientists. This curriculum was structured according to the discipline of science itself: active observing, asking novel questions, testing, and experimenting with new ideas that lead to unexpected discoveries. Direct instructional materials for PSSC included a narrative style textbook, which did not allow for students to look for a brief statement of a law or theory; they needed to follow the development of the idea just as a scientist would. Also unique to any previous physics curriculum, PSSC included laboratory equipment, and a student laboratory guide, instructional films, and achievement tests. Supporting materials included a four- volume teacher guide and a supplementary reading series comprised of 40 original monographs about special interest topics. StudentsS were to acquire new knowledge in a much different way than they had been taught before. The textbook was not the only source of informatioF n; they were to also learn from film, the teacher, and/or lab work. Remember, these ideas need to be read in the context of the timeO as they were considered a huge shift from the pure lecture and rote learning that had dominated classrooms until this time. O The role of the physics laboratory was central in the design3 of the PSSC curriculum. Instead of lecture andR recall, students performed experiments with equipment similarP to what was used in actual1 laboratories. For example, students and their teachers used wave0 tanks, collected data and through analysis and through class discussion learned about wave phenomena. To demonstrateP measurement and2 scaling, PSSC devised a very simple balanceA using a soda-straw lever and a human hair. “With economically designedI equipment, the© lab became the place where the entire class could converse with nature and try to recognize its regularities” (Haber-Schaim, 2006, p. 6). Realizing that some phenomena or situations were too complex or difficult to be studied or the necessary equipment too costly, the committee used instructional films to supplement the textbook. The films had no Hollywood staging or background music. Bringing the audio-visual aspect into schools was a vision discussed at The Woods Hole Conference that PSSC was now implementing in classrooms for the first time. The actors were physicists showing real experiments, using real data, speaking in their individual ways, directing students’ attention to key points. Students were able to see scientists as real people. Dick Heckathorn (2006) commented that his PSSC Physics students reported that in their college physics classes they were significantly ahead Beyond Project Versus Process 133 of most of their fellow students in their knowledge of physics, their ability to perform investigations, and problem solving. “They felt that their process skills had been honed to the point that they could help others in their classes” (p. 2). PSSC recognized that the average teacher was not equipped to handle this new and challenging approach to physics instruction. Chris Chiave- rina (2006) commented,

To say my first encounter with PSSC was challenging would be an under- statement! Although I had taken 50 semester hours of physics as an undergraduate, I was not prepared to present the innovative curriculum…. The PSSC approach of integrating experiment and theory was foreign to me. (p. 2)

This was one of the reasons for a detailed, four-volume teacher guide. Another method to increase the teacher comfort level with this new curriculum was to offer 4 to 6 week summer teacher training institutesS and halfday in-service meetings throughout the academic year.F Like the classroom experience, the teacher training institutes were hands-on and designed to bring an understanding of the spiritO of teaching physics. By 1964, 4,000 teachers had been trained at summer institutes effecting approximately 1.6 million students (Haber-Schaim,O 2006, p. 7). Even though many teachers had been trained through PSSC summer institutes and in-service meetings,R Rigden (2006) reports3 that in the United States, PSSC as a curriculum never captured1 more than 7% of the high school physics textbook P market. Rigden 0hypothesizes that the program failed to take offP because 2 PSSC required both teachers and students to think.... To approach these qualitativeI topics,A instructors must engage students’ minds and do so without chalk in their hands. This is© difficult and requires careful and deliberate preparation, that is, thought. In a similar vein, students cannot understand the meanings of Space, Time, and Mass by memorizing equa- tions and learning some algorithms. No, students must also think. (Rigden, 2006, p. 2)

We are not implying that teachers or students weren’t capable of thinking in this way but again, it was a huge shift in roles from the expectations for all participants in a classroom setting. This is just one issue that arose to prevent full implementation of reform ideas. Within the complex world of education, is it even possible to anticipate and address every domain that would lead to change in classrooms? Even with massive funding and extensive collaboration, the reform efforts of the 1960s had minimal impact (Cuban, 1993). These 134 S. HAYES, S. SANDER, and B. LEWELLEN reformers should be commended for the positive contributions that they did make (the junior high version of PSSC is in its ninth addition and can still be found in many classrooms) but it still wasn’t holistic enough to provide real comprehensive change. This reform-minded group was also a victim of circumstance. Remem- ber the word game and picture that we painted in the first paragraph? The picture that those words painted for us was one of great social unrest in the United States. By the mid-60s, society had moved away from concerns about keeping pace with the Soviets and communist spies. The focus of the country was now on the unpopular war in Vietnam, persistent and oppressive poverty, overt racism, and violent reactions to the prejudice, gender inequity, and the impersonal and bureaucratic social institutions that comprised American government (DeBoer, 1991). Given this atmosphere, the call for intellectual rigor and disciplinary study that had resounded at the beginning of the decade was fading away. These social issues shifted attention away from educational issues and effectivelyS closed the window on the winds of change started by Bruner andF other curriculum reformers of the early 1960s. Can this conversation be revived? Instead of starting from scratch, can the progressO made in the 1960s be taken even further today? We look to reopen the streams of dialogue by reviewing the complete picture of Bruner’sO process of education and consider how it still applies today. R 3 The Process of Education (Past) 1 The moment was tense withP anticipation, counting0 the seconds; there were so many places that we could have made a mistake and we only had enough sample forP one more run. Had2 we properly connected everything; had weA used the centrifuge correctly; made the gel to the correct specifications?I We had never used© electrophoresis before. Were the pro- teins actually going to separate? Was our hypothesis that black walnut trees poison the surrounding area to reduce competition going to be proven correct? Though this happened more than 35 years ago, I (Sara) remember it well. It was the first time that I had been able/allowed to plan an experiment from beginning to end. My mind was turned onto planning, calculating, analyzing, and my hands were actively collecting, preparing. I was being a laboratory scientist. This was 1976, during my college career, and remain my earliest recollection of experiencing the process of education inside of a classroom. I, Sara, am a Baby Boomer, and was in public schools during the 1960s. I lived in a small conservative city in the Midwest. My memory of my K12 school career was one that Bestor and Rickover would have approved of— the schools were teacher-centered with quiet students sitting in rows tak- Beyond Project Versus Process 135 ing notes on the teacher’s lectures. Most of my classroom time was spent taking notes and memorizing information for tests. My love of science was not built on or encouraged by hands-on participation in school. I lived my science in the fields surrounding my home. My parents encouraged my learning by making sure that I had the Golden books to identify whatever I found. They also made sure that I played outside—a lot—to explore and learn on my own. My neighbors and I would leave in the morning with a lunch knowing that we did not have to be back until suppertime. Oh my, what freedom. We were naturally curious about the world around us and learned by exploring and then identifying our finds in our books. We even made an important discovery. While exploring a dried-up creek bed, we found a large, smooth, egg-shaped rock that our book couldn’t help us identify. Our parents could not identify the rock, either. So off it went to the geology department at the college in the next town. A geology professor brought the rock back along with a hammer.S We were amazed when he broke open the rock and showed us the inside. The inside of the rock was hollow with sparkling white crystalsF attached to the sidewalls. We had found a geode, something that was uncommon in our area. I know that we strutted around a little, callingO ourselves geologists and lived in the creek bed looking for more geodes. For the most part, we were our own teachers,O looking in our identifica- tion guides and when we had soakedR up that information,3 moving to the encyclopedia for more details. What is important in these experiences is that we were learning at our ownP pace in a way that excited1 us and kept us interested in exploring more and understanding0 the world in which we lived. We were livingP what Jerome Brunner2 (1960) termed the “process” of education. We were motivated by our natural curiosity to explore more; we built on theA knowledge that we had previously learned; and we viewed the differentI parts that we were ©exploring, e.g., rocks, birds, bugs, and so forth, not as separate areas of study but all as part of one big world—outside. How we learned outside of school was in direct contrast to how we learned at school. School was not a “process,” but a “project,” with the project being to know the material that we were taught. These personal examples reflect not only the vision for education advocated by curriculum reformers of the 1960s, but they also capture the essence of Bruner’s book. Based on the premise that school experiences should mirror the structure of the disciplines in question, where concrete experiences precede formal, abstract explanations, we now look to examine Bruner’s writings according the question posed at the beginning of this chapter, “what should we teach and to what end?” Bruner’s framework included four themes: structure, readiness, intuition, and interest. While we will interpret them separately here, they are 136 S. HAYES, S. SANDER, and B. LEWELLEN highly interconnected and overlapping. Cumulatively they epitomize Bruner’s vision for education that would take place just as naturally and authentically as a young girl discovering a geode buried in a dried-up creek bed.

Structure

Learning should not only take us somewhere; it should allow us later to go further more easily. —Jerome Bruner

For many people the word structure may convey some rigid framework or strict set of guidelines, but this would not be an accurateS com- parison for Bruner’s use of the word. Bruner advocated a pattern of instruction that would more closely mimic life and the Fwork of science/ scientists. For Bruner it goes beyond what students learn as he also emphasizes how they learn. This gets us pastO the common tension debated by the Life-Adjustment advocates and the back-to-basics supporters between learning basic skills/subjectO matter content vs. developing mental processes and better thinkingR skills. To reach3 the latter, one must have deep understanding of the former, so for1 Bruner, he values both. His emphasis was forP students to learn in a more natural way based on discovery, not by being told. For Bruner0 it was less about “the right answer” and moreP about the oppo2rtunity to investigate. It moved beyond just “hands-on” in favor of an authentic “minds-on” vision for education inI schools.A © This inductive approach mimics the way young children learn about the world, not through worksheets or lecture, but through curiosity and exploration. It also matches the life and work of science/scientists that was played out in curriculum efforts like PSSC. Bruner (1960) stated, “designing curricula in a way that reflects the basic structure of a field of knowledge requires the most fundamental understanding of that field” (p. 32). What do our current curriculum models reflect? Do we even take the time to have this conversation or are we too overwhelmed and concerned with designing “measurable” objectives, collecting assessment data and, raising test scores? While his writings avoid a prescriptive tone, he admits this is no easy task but one that is worthy of careful consideration and research. So let’s do just that. Let us keep considering some of his main ideas. Can they provide a window for our future? Beyond Project Versus Process 137

Readiness

Any subject can be taught effectively in some intellectually honest form to any child at any stage of development. —Jerome Bruner

By providing examples of a Bruner-ish curriculum (PSSC) and a personal vignette that captures his ideas, we were attempting to provide a literary version of the type of concrete experience deemed so vital for learning by Bruner and other curriculum scholars of the 60s. These shared experiences would serve as the base of knowledge from which instruction could be built. This is the basis of Bruner’s “spiral curriculum”: the development and introduction of topics in elementary years and then redevelopment during later years of school, with subsequent encounters of the topic presented in more abstract terms. S Along with the idea of disciplinary structure, BrunerF introduced the idea of stages of mental development to the educational community, or what he called “readiness.” In the late 1950s, BrunerO and a few other psychologists began to work with the ideas that Jean Piaget had developed a few decades previously. Besides describingO Piaget’s stages of cognitive development, Bruner applied these theories of mental development to science teaching and learning. WhenR discussing teaching3 geometry and physics to elementary school-agedP children, Barbel Inhelder,1 Piaget’s student and coworker, stated, “Basic notions in0 these fields are perfectly accessible to children of seven to ten years of age, provided that they are divorced from their mathematicalP expression and2 studied through materials that the child can handleA himself” (as cited in Bruner, 1960, p. 43; emphasis in original). The Ikey, then, to successful© teaching and learning was to redesign the curriculum into a logical form that students could understand and to present it in a way that was consistent with the student’s level of development. Once a concept or idea that was crucial to a field was identified, then instruction of that idea was to begin in an intellectually honest form as early as possible. For today’s science educators this may all sound familiar as constructivist learning cycles stress the importance of “explore before explain.” Some may be surprised to hear that it’s not some new fad or modern insight, it has been around for over 50 years! And it’s more in line with the way children learn naturally from the world. Let’s return to my explorations as a young girl. These are the experiences that I started with and that have stayed with me. Memorization is not the term for this type of deep internalization where an unidentified plant became a mystery or challenge to 138 S. HAYES, S. SANDER, and B. LEWELLEN be solved. Sure, I didn’t know its inner workings, nothing about plant reproduction nor the equation for photosynthesis, but I was able to make sense of the plant on my level and my terms and knew how to find out more in my Golden books. And not because someone told me to but because I wanted to. I learned the things that I took notice of and because of this, I didn’t have to memorize it. It was my knowledge, I constructed it—I owned it. Bruner would call this “internalized” and it was a big part of the PSSC curriculum during the 60s. No one was expecting teachers to teach organic chemistry to 6-year olds but Bruner’s ideas were to lay a strong foundation that would develop throughout the child’s education, ultimately leading to deeper understandings of complex topics like organic chemistry because the solid, basic, internalized experiences were at the core of what the student knows. How much of what our students “know” is anchored in deeply internalized experiences? Are we providing enough concrete experiences or simply flooding students with abstractS explanations? Instead of only complaining about the reasons these things do not occur, let us expand the discussion about possible ways toF make it happen again. Only when the base is strong can you build strong, deep and elabo- rate mental frameworks. OO Nature of Intuition R 3 P 1 The development of effectiveness in intuitive thinking0 is an objective of many of the most highly regardedP teachers in mathematics2 and science. IA © —Jerome Bruner At the time of the conference, the emphasis in much of teaching, learning, and testing was on analytical skills, on a student’s ability to reproduce formulas either verbally or numerically in a stepwise fashion. Bruner discussed the distinction between intuitive and analytical learning, arguing that scientists and mathematicians stressed the importance of intuitive thinking for creative solutions to problems in their fields. He identified early research findings that with a solid and thorough understanding of the field, an intuitive thinker had the self-confidence to “leap about, skip- ping steps and employing short cuts” (Bruner, 1960, p. 58). Bruner and his colleagues believed that it was important to provide students with opportunities to make guesses based on intuitive hunches and that teaching generalized problem-solving techniques would develop or enhance intuitive thought. Beyond Project Versus Process 139

In much the same way as a “mother’s intuition” is more of a feeling than a tangible product, Bruner’s talk of the nature of intuition can get a bit fuzzy—unless you connect it with some concrete experience! For me, it goes back to a time when my brother convinced me that it was a good idea to throw rocks at the barn windows. I guess he saw them as targets against an otherwise blank exterior. At that time I had no knowledge of Newton’s laws, momentum, or collisions but I did know about broken glass (or at least I had experience doing dishes and how a glass breaks when it slips out of your soapy hands and onto the floor). At the moment my lack of content knowledge did not detract from that feeling that something was wrong with this little experiment; this whole rock-into-window thing got my mental red flags waving. But like budding young scientists, we explored further. Whether it was the outcome of the experiment (the shattering of a large pane of glass) or the outcome of the outcome (our month long punishment), I learned that day (1) moving rocks and solid glass panes don’t go well together and (2) to listen more closely toS that little, intuitive voice in my head—and not to my brother! F Bruner constantly urges to establish the intuitive understanding (personal, everyday, common sense) of materials beforeO we expose our students to more traditional and formal methods of deduction and proof (again building on explore before explain).O This way of thinking can be squashed when traditional “teaching as telling” is employed. But without the “method” to improve intuition Rwe merely teach to base3 knowledge of the subject. Schools do not know how to do “intuitive,”1 so we do “analytic.” The more random uncertaintyP that would0 be required to achieve greater intuitive thought has been forsaken in favor of the one-step-at-a- time, linear thinkingP which is associated with2 analytical thought. Unfortu- nately, this mayA lead to false conceptions of things like the scientific method, andI to how many still perceive© that science is merely a stepwise, recipe to follow that always leads to expected outcomes. Is the work of scientists considered to include intuitive thinking or con- firmation of facts? Consider from the student perspective what messages are sent implicitly through didactic instruction. There seems to be a definite disconnect between experiencing creative problem-solving activities versus being told “science involves creative thinking.” For this reason the PSSC curriculum urged teachers to develop students’ intuitive thinking in a manner consistent with the discipline of science itself. Do we still value intuitive thought/creativity or does it receive lip service? Is it assumed that some just have it or are there ways to promote it? Bruner promotes a combination of analytic and intuitive approaches, but is our current system out of balance? Have we shifted so far toward end products (analytic) to the detriment of process thinking (intuitive)? 140 S. HAYES, S. SANDER, and B. LEWELLEN

This isn’t a good versus bad question or debate; you do not have to pick sides, but consider how do we regain balance in education?

Interest/Motivation

Somewhere between apathy and wild excitement, there is an optimum level of aroused attention that is ideal for classroom activity. – Jerome Bruner

While PSSC and the other curricula of the 60s seemed to be matching quite nicely with the process of education advocated by Bruner, there is (at least) one area that went unaddressed and is associated in part with the curriculum’s ineffectiveness. “The new courses did not do enough to motivate students to study science” (DeBoer, 1991, p. 170). S If we once again consider Bruner’s question “what shouldF we teach and to what end?” and also consider the purpose of education, the discussion will inevitably funnel toward motives for learning.O Each of Bruner’s other themes all hint at or lead toward this section on developing in the child an interest in what s/he is learning. StructuringO authentic, age appropriate, open-ended problems at the beginning for students to explore all contribute in the creation of interest.R But does this active 3style of learning actually exist today? Has it everP been found in schools?1 Or instead of providing problems at the beginning, have we settled0 for asking questions at the end (of a textbook chapter)? We return to my (Sara’s)P childhood experiences2 one last time as an example for how authentic,A natural ways of learning happen, well, naturally. My environmentI provided the external© stimulus and I did the rest. My world was already filled with perplexity and wonder, it didn’t have to be scripted by my parents or any adult. I didn’t need a standardized test or performance indicator. For me, that would have detracted from the experience in much the same way that many argue how today’s emphasis on standardized testing actually inhibits many of the ideas we have discussed throughout this chapter. So as we transition to the world of education today we leave you with a final question (for now) to ponder: Do schools really need to find ways to increase motivation or should they focus on ways to stop stopping it?

The Project of Education (Present) In 2011 Jerome Bruner was asked to comment on The Process of Educa- tion at a 50th anniversary celebration of the book. Among his comments, Bruner said that the book helped educators realize that, “the young are Beyond Project Versus Process 141 not idiotic, they are just not able to go as deep” (Bruner, 2011). This sentiment, as well as the theories recorded in The Process of Education, are reflected in the recently released National Research Council’s (NRC) A Framework for K-12 Science Education (2012). The principles of the framework are based on what is known about the nature of learning science: the capacity to learn, a focus on core ideas, true understanding over time, putting knowledge and practice together, pairing students’ interests and experiences with science education, and promoting equity. When compar- ing the principles of the framework with the themes of The Process of Edu- cation: structure of knowledge, readiness for learning, discovery learning, and motivation for learning, they appear to be identical in intent. We can’t help but wonder if they will fare any better than the reform efforts of the 1960s. It appears that the window is open and the themes in the Process of Edu- cation are being included in current teaching and learning methodologies. Is this a sign of progress or a recycled regression to the past?S There have been modifications to address many of the same issues that were criticized in the past. The new framework specifically addressesF the importance of capturing a student’s “sense of wonder about the world” and building his or her appreciation for the multiple waysO that science is pertinent in their every day lives (NRC, 2012, p. 28). Sounds good, right? Going beyond the formal inclusion of TheO Process of Education, parts of Bruner’s themes and theories withinR the book about the3 abilities of students to learn complex material can be found in most curricula today. More than ever before, teachersP are being pushed to1 use models such as inquiry and discovery-based learning to aid their0 instruction. Teachers who are willing to take the time to explore2 this avenue are having the opportunity to comeP across this reality in their everyday classroom. Maybe it’s our intuitiveA nature but that last sentence is once again waving those mental redI flags; remember that© throwing rocks at windows idea that sounded good at the time? This whole chapter is contextual and must be considered according to time and place. The place we currently reside in is highly standardized where many educators feel (whether real or perceived) that they simply don’t have the time to execute ideas put forth by Bruner and others. It is a common criticism to see the focus on exploration, curiosity, and discovery as all sunshine and lollipops while content knowledge is the real meat necessary for consumption. Likewise, this mentality quickly closes the conversation down, as practical-minded classroom teachers do not have time for all this idealistic theory. Can you hear the echoes of, “Sure it sounds good but it won’t work in my classroom”? Somewhat hidden in Bruner’s (1960) book is a type of warning that we feel has been ignored up to this point. He states, 142 S. HAYES, S. SANDER, and B. LEWELLEN

If the principle scholarships and prizes come increasingly to be awarded for merit in the sciences and mathematics, then we may also expect, and this is another danger we face, that there will be a devaluation of other forms of scholarly enterprise. (pp. 78-79)

Take a second to ponder this sentence in relation to our current focus on standardized testing. What did you come up with? For us, it’s pretty simple: what gets tested is what gets taught. So while the NGSS may promote many of the same features advocated by Bruner in the 60s, the ultimate trump card will be how the standards get tested and to what extent students successfully score on the standardized, high stakes tests. Unless the tests are going to measure process-oriented thinking associated with the work of scientists that value creative problem-solving about personally relevant topics, it’s unlikely that classroom instruction will change at all. The move toward online testing makes it seem even more likely that the focus on abstract, trivia-style content knowledge Swill remain the focus, so that will also remain the focus of classroom instruction. Test- ing seems to be the Sputnik and Vietnam of the current reformF movement; it’s what matters and what people are interested in. But does it have to be this way forever? Is that the end of the story?O O Toward Progress in EducationPR 13 One thing seems clear: if all students are helped to0 the full utilization of their intellectual powers,P we will have a better chance2 of surviving as a democracy in an age ofA enormous technological and social complexity. I © —Jerome Bruner In reading about Bruner and the curricularists of the 60s, they seem to say all the right things and put forth plenty of ideas that sure sound good. But if they were so good, I doubt we would be writing this chapter today; there would be no need for a discussion since everything would have been resolved. Due to the reasons we provided earlier, Bruner’s ideas were set on the mental back burner or have been prevented from being implemented, yet somehow we have failed to recognize alternate versions of education that do not involve testing. The impression that everything has been settled and that things are fine or that we are headed in the right direction is the exact need for this chapter, this book, and these discussions. Things are clearly not okay, yet we’ve been sold the idea that they are. Hopefully, by presenting the extensive history of the 60s and PSSC, Beyond Project Versus Process 143 you might begin to reconsider other possibilities beyond our current era of standardized testing. Bruner says it best, “to learn structure is to learn how things are related” (Bruner, 1960, p. 7). He was referring to science and mathematics but it also applies in terms of this chapter, this book, and the process of education required to produce them. Reading and researching other perspectives, discussing and debating various points of view, and struggling to make meaning from it all has made us confident in adding our voice to the conversation. Instead of accepting the limited version of education we are currently subjected to, we are interested in opening up the possibility for progress in education. Our goal was to reopen the window to the past and to bring greater awareness to these ideas. We wanted to promote dialogue, discussion, and debate, not give you “the answer,” because there are no simple answers, despite what we have been told. Even the classic battle lines (project vs. process) are artificially created and do more to distract our attentionS than lead to progress. Hopefully we have conveyed that both sides have merit in moderation but we are currently out of balance, whichF has limited the opportunities for our students. What can we do to shift back into balance? What if we started to question established beliefs?O If you are convinced that “new” ideas are out there, start your search in the past. Can previous ideas be incorporated into a broader view?O If we consider what went well, what we can use, and what to avoid,R then we won’t be recycling3 the same thing and calling it original! Our intent is to return theP conversation to the unique,1 individual classrooms and students who seem to be absent from0 so many current day debates about education.P The conversation2 treats students as nameless, faceless masses and reduces them to testing data. Is it not time to get back to what reallyA matters? For us, Bruner, and other curriculum scholars of the 60s, whatI matters are experiences© . Continue to consider this idea throughout the book. Consider how the ideas in this book may overlap, meld, or even contradict. Each perspective will help to inform the big picture in new ways. So while we’ll review the information, you will draw your own conclusions. You’re not expected to agree with everything that is written, it’s probably more productive if you don’t. Multiple perspectives discussing and working through complex issues is the only way that we can start thinking beyond our current situation and may lead to new solutions for the future. Ultimately, “the answer” is some mythical construction we have been trained to accept and search for but complexity and uncertainty are a part of education so a more holistic picture (past + present) should make us better equipped to navigate within such a complex system. There exists a fine line when it comes to taking action. Yes, our attempts to become better 144 S. HAYES, S. SANDER, and B. LEWELLEN informed are ultimately related to action but it needs to be a “doing” based on knowledge and how to make an impact (vs. running full speed into brick walls). It has to be about making our efforts count/matter. Getting beyond the “quick fix” mentality of so many in educational reform circles who focus solely on the ends in terms of test scores requires that we must realize there is never an end. Education is a continual process that needs to be sustainable. Short-term setbacks should be anticipated and expected as part of the ongoing process where certain events can be used as catalysts for action (these events don’t always have to lead to negative outcomes). We should be guided by Jerome Bruner’s questions, “what shall we teach and to what end?” as filters for sifting through the malaise, to survive, and to see progress in education. NOTE S 1. http://www.dollartimes.com/calculators/inflation.htm F REFERENCES O Bruner, J. S. (1960). The process of education. Cambridge,O MA: Harvard University Press. Brunner, J. S. (2011, April 27). A celebrationR of the 50th anniversary3 of Jerome Bruner’s The Process of Education by New York University1 School of Law. Retrieved from http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6t9DTKW4kvw P Bybee, R. (1997, October 4). The Sputnik era: Why is0 this educational reform different from all other reforms?P Paper presented at2 the National Academy of Science Symposium Reflecting on Sputnik: Linking the past, present, and future of educationalA reform. Retrieved from http://www.nas.edu/sputnik/bybee1.htm Chiaverina, IC. (2006, July 18). Teaching© PSSC Physics: A remembrance of things past. In C. Holbrow (Ed.), PSSC 50th Anniversary. Retrieved from http:// www.compadre.org/portal/pssc/pssc.cfm Cuban, L. (1993). How teachers taught: Constancy and change in American classrooms, 1890-1990. New York, NY: Teachers College Press. DeBoer, G. E. (1991). A history of ideas in science education: Implications for practice. New York, NY: Teachers College Press. Dollartimes.com. (n.d.), Retrieved from http://www.dollartimes.com/calculators/ inflation.htm Dow, P. B. (1997, October 4). Sputnik revisited: Historical perspectives on science reform. Paper presented at the National Academy of Science Symposium Reflecting on Sputnik: Linking the past, present, and future of educational reform. Retrieved from http://www.nas.edu/sputnik/dow1.htm French, A. P. (1986). Setting new directions in physics teaching: PSSC 30 years later. Physics Today, 39(9) 30-34. Beyond Project Versus Process 145

Haber-Schaim, U. (2006, July 18). PSSC physics: A personal perspective. In C. Holbrow (Ed.), PSSC 50th anniversary. Retrieved from http:// www.compadre.org/portal/pssc/pssc.cfm Heckathorn, D. (2006, July 18). How PSSC shaped my teaching. In C. Holbrow (Ed.), PSSC 50th Anniversary. Retrieved from http://www.compadre.org/portal/ pssc/pssc.cfm Hofstadter, R. (1963). Anti-intellectualism in American life. New York, NY: Knopf. National Research Council. (2012). A framework for K-12 science education: Practices, crosscutting concepts, and core ideas. Washington, DC: The National Academies Press. Pinar, W. F., Reynolds, W. M., Slattery, P., & Taubman, P. M., (2008). Understanding curriculum: an introduction to the study of historical and contemporary curriculum discourses. New York, NY: Peter Lang. Rigden, J. S. (2006, July 18). With PSSC, teachers and students had to think. In C. Holbrow (Ed.), PSSC 50th Anniversary. Retrieved from http:// www.compadre.org/portal/pssc/pssc.cfm Rudolph, J. L. (2002). Scientists in the classroom: The cold war reconstruction of Ameri- can science education. New York, NY: Palgave. FS OO PR 13 P 20 IA ©

CHAPTER 9

CURRICULUM MIDWIVES Teachers, Instruction, and StudentsS T. N G O R O S H A Trevor Ngorosha OF Memories of Teaching in Zimbabwe O Teaching in many Zimbabwe secondaryR schools is increasingly3 becoming examination-driven. TeachersP are so much absorbed1 in learning about and using examination-taking strategies in an0 education system built upon a transmission model of teaching (Freire, 1993). Teaching that privileges the utmost involvementP of the student2 and seeks to dig into the depth of a subjectA is dying slowly as teachers race through the curriculum to meet theI expectations of examinations.© This is how many of my colleagues and I experienced teaching in Zimbabwe when we taught in high school in the last 2 decades. We focused more on helping students pass their school-based and national examinations than we read about and discussed curriculum issues and the efficacy of our instruction. We were so engrossed in our work that we did not step back to (re)examine the purposes of education and how our instruction closely aligned with those purposes. With the inordinate emphasis placed on examination results by the various stakeholders, whose eyes were and still are glued on schooling, the teacher can easily be pressured and swayed away from rigorous

Curriculum Windows: What Curriculum Theorists of the 1960s Can Teach Us About Schools and Society Today, pp. 147–164 Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved. 147 148 T. NGOROSHA instruction and the important purposes of education. Rote learning which encourages the learning of facts rather than the promotion of comprehension and knowledge application is the definite consequence of a singular focus on examinations in our schools (Baine & Mwamwenda, 1994). When I joined the Zimbabwe teaching service in 1992, my concern was not so much about improving examination results as it was about helping my students understand and enjoy the beauty of literature in English as they experienced its liberating and edifying qualities. My teaching of English was also motivated by the need to see my students develop various competencies in the language as a communication facility. Passing examinations was still considered important, but any focus on exams did not overshadow teaching for intellectual growth. Today the story is different. Passing examinations has become the crowning badge of a great teacher or school. Teaching has increasingly morphed into examination-coaching in many schools. Never before have parents and teachers been so much concerned about preparing students for examinations than Sthe actual teaching. Traditionally, both students and teachers have used the April and August school holidays to rest after the tiring 3-monthF academic mar- athon, but now they have been turned into exam-prep vacation school sessions in most schools. If a student misses vacationO school, she or he suffers emotionally because that is the surest way of being left behind in examination preparation. I participated inO the vacation school programs and saw how students desperatelyR wanted teachers to chaperone3 them through past examination papers in the hope that they would cover all possible questions on their endP of course examinations1 taken in the 3- month examination season beginning in October.0 The time teachersP and students dread2 in Zimbabwe is when examination results are released and publicized. Parents and education officials want to know Awhich teacher and school “passed” or “failed” students. The media becomeI rabid as they rank© schools according to percentage pass rates. The publicity generated makes it embarrassing to be associated with a failing school regardless of the challenges faced by such a school. As a Zimbabwean citizen, teacher, and parent, I do not condone teachers who sacrifice the future of their students by not teaching effectively. What I disapprove of is taking examination results to be the overarching focus of our education. Stakeholders and the media must first show concern over the kind of teaching and learning that happens in schools throughout the year before they go on rooftops to shame failing schools or celebrate those considered excelling. Their interest should be on the curriculum and how students experience it through meaningful instruction. They should castigate mediocrity and celebrate innovative and rigorous instruction that deepens and broadens the intellectual and affective capacities of our students. More important, they must encourage teach- Curriculum Midwives 149 ers, curriculum specialists, and related professionals to have serious conversations about the purposes of education, and how to improve instruction in our schools to fulfill their highest purposes. A committed interrogation of purposes of education and improved instruction, not just preparation for examinations, should open for us a window into what it means to meaningfully educate our children. It dispels the darkness cast on our education system by the relentless focus on preparation for examinations at the expense of meaningful instruction which sets children on a quest for knowledge and problem-solving rather than the blinding focus on passing examinations.

The Purposes of Education and the Curriculum

The chief purpose of education is societal renewal for development and survival. The renewal of the Zimbabwean society cannot be successfulS if most of what our students are made to experience in their curriculum is learning to take examinations (Dewey, 1916). They needF an educational experience that enables them to flourish in life rather than one that just enables them to excel in school (Eisner, 2003)O as measured through superficial examination results. As a nation, we need to examine and reexamine how our curricula are taught untilO such a time we all come to realize that the curriculum is aboutR the mastery of skills 3that become the basis for the acquisition and use of more powerful ones (Bruner, 1966). Valuing examination results forP their own sake is honoring1 the product of schooling more than the process of knowing0 (Bruner, 1966). Such an understanding will Phelp us align our instruction2 with our purposes of education. Right now Zimbabwe faces monumental political, environmental,A and economic challenges that can only be solved if our students areI exposed to a problem-posing© instruction (Freire, 1993). In the political arena, many Zimbabweans have been killed or physically and emotionally scarred by political violence that has become pandemic in our communities. Literature and history, besides teaching about our aspirations and who we are as a people, could be used to explore the tragedy of political violence through the use of problem-posing instruction in our schools. The current situation where instruction in these subjects is examination-targeted and does not deal with the problems faced by the nation is counterproductive at best and oppressive at worst. In the last 2 decades Zimbabwe has seen her trees and rivers devastated as a result of the economic hardships being experienced mostly by the rural population. To eke out a living, people are cutting down trees they have preserved for generations to sell firewood or make artifacts for sale. The hazardous and environmentally harmful practice of gold panning on our 150 T. NGOROSHA rivers has become a common sight. Despite these problems, lessons in geography still treat issues of deforestation and land degradation as theoretical aspects whose understanding can only be proven through paper-and-pencil tests. Challenging conversations that can take our youths to the heart of education on environmental issues are rare (Eisner, 2002). The Zimbabwe national secondary school curriculum, which I believe is fairly adequate in terms of the content we need to prepare our children for in their present and future lives, requires rigorous instruction to enable students to experience it in meaningful and empowering ways. This cannot happen until the teaching that happens in our classrooms is liberated from the clutches of an examination-driven, banking education system (Freire, 1993) that was bequeathed to us by the British colonial system, which lasted formally for 90 years but still occupies us. The colonial education system did not value instruction that took a student on a journey of intellectual growth since its purpose was to churn out workers to service its colonial economic agenda. To continue with the same educational systemS is to maintain the traditions of colonialism. When schools overly focus on examination preparationF rather than rigorous instruction, the consequence is not only the narrowing of the curriculum (Ravitch, 2010) but also the diversion of theO curriculum from the purposes of education as discussed in the preceding paragraph. The curriculum can get narrowed in two destructiveO ways. First, some subjects that are notR considered important3 on the qualifying high school certificate are not given sufficient attention as teachers and students spend much ofP their time on those subjects1 they know give them access to the economic goods of the country.0 This is the fate that ChiShona and SiNdebele,P two of Zimbabwe’s2 indigenous languages, have suffered. The high school qualifying Ordinary Level Certificate does not give equal weightA to English, ChiShona and SiNdebele as languages studied in Zimbabwe’sI high schools.© A pass in English counts towards a full certificate of five subjects, but none of the indigenous languages named above earns one a full certificate if four other subjects excluding English are passed. What a contradiction in a country whose leadership boasts of total liberation from colonialism! Whereas teachers may still want to teach ChiShona and SiNdebele to the point where students achieve mastery to be able to use these languages for personal and national development, the pressure to teach to the examination, and the poor recognition accorded the languages open them to superficial teaching. General Paper offered at the Advanced Level suffers the same fate despite its rich content. As a subject it offers opportunities for students to learn, among other things, reading and writing skills. If it is taught properly, it prepares students not only for the rigor demanded in college reading and writing but also for situations requiring the same skills in adult life. Regrettably, Curriculum Midwives 151

Zimbabwe’s education policy, although it considers the subject a part of the Advanced Level curriculum, does not recognize it as a college entry requirement. This kills the interest of the students in the subject, and because the subject is not associated with the pomp and fanfare of the highly regarded science and commercial subjects, teachers do not expend as much effort on it as they do on the other subjects. So, ChiShona, SiNdebele and General Paper exist outside the core of the valued curriculum because they do not count much in examination results. Second, subjects that are not tested occupy a symbolic place on the curriculum. Nobody gives them any serious attention. Anyone who has taught in Zimbabwe’s high schools can attest to the insignificance associated with Education for Living, a subject that is supposed to make students grapple with the challenges young people face in their lives. Guidance and counseling is offered under Education for Living. Such topics as sex education, career opportunities, and the dangers of drug abuse are covered under this subject. Students benefit immensely from the subject but becauseS it is not tested, the subject continues to be shoved off the timetableF in most schools as examined subjects demand more time and effort. Administrators, teachers, and students would rather concentrate on subjectsO whose examination results they know will earn them the respect of parents and education officials if passed. O This discussion so far has shown Rthat teaching to the examination3 com- promises the curriculum whenever it happens because it robs the learner of opportunities to interact withP and fully engage the1 educational experience offered by the curriculum. It treats the learner0 as a mere shadow that follows and imitatesP what its master does,2 no matter how superficial the action may be. It treats the learner as thoughtless, and noncreative, merely waitingIA to benefit from the generosity of an omniscient teacher in a banking kind of education (Freire,© 1993). Taught and guided in this superficial manner for over 12 years the learner spends in primary and secondary education, is it any wonder why the student cannot think for himself or herself? Should society expect the student to be able to solve personal problems and engage in generative thinking to solve their community’s problems and work toward the common good? Can society be right to expect such a student to appreciate the ecological connection between oneself, the local community, the natural environment, and global issues? My answer to these questions is not in the affirmative. The questions present a challenge that educators must confront and solve. As educators we need authoritative instructional knowledge that supports an education that runs much deeper than the basic skills that standardized examinations promote and target. 152 T. NGOROSHA

Bruner’s Instructional Roadmap

On that early Wednesday evening of our curriculum, pedagogy, and diversity class, an array of curriculum books from the 1960s was presented for each member of our class to choose from, read, and reflect on insights that can help us deal with contemporary curriculum challenges. Bruner’s (1966) Toward a Theory of Instruction caught my eye. As an educator who spent 16 years teaching high school students in Zimbabwe, the title of the book intrigued and disappointed me at the same time. The title made me curious because in my career as a teacher I had heard about teaching methodologies but not theories of instruction. A theory of instruction is both prescriptive and normative in the sense that it lays down rules of effective ways of teaching to achieve knowledge as it defines the criteria to be followed (Bruner, 1966). Realizing that theories offer us an interpretive lens to understand a given subject matter, my mind was immediately attracted to reading and finding out the insights Bruner offered.S When I took my teacher education program courses, I heard a partial story of Bruner’s theory of instruction. What more did he offer beyondF the mostly talked about modes of representation that could help teachers make students’ experiences of the curriculum richer andO more rewarding? But before we delve into Bruner’s theory of instruction it is proper that I reg- ister my reservations on the idea of a “theoryO of instruction.” Teaching is such a complex affairR that cannot be reduced3 to formulaic standards encapsulated in a theory of instruction, no matter how rigorous it is. To talk about theory of Pinstruction without acknowledging1 and validating practice is not only problematic but also0 dangerous to the teaching profession. For a longP time some scholars2 have fought hard to promote theory at the expense of knowledge born out of practice, yet theory and practice are intertwined.A In one of our class discussions, Tom Poetter aptly described theI dialectical relationship© between theory and practice when he said thinking and action play on each other and that was the same way theory and practice should be conceptualized in the curriculum field (Tom Poetter, personal communication, February 1, 2012). Having said this about the paramount importance of practice in instructional work, we should proceed to explore the possibilities that Bruner’s theory of instruction brings to curriculum implementation. In fact, I should confess that after reading Toward a Theory of Instruction, my disappointment with the title of the book dissipated as I discovered that the book develops theory out of the practice of teaching children math. I think the title of the book should, however, have the words “theory” and “practice” in it as these two aspects interact with each another in the book. Out of the 18 curriculum books the class worked on from the 1960s, Bruner’s Toward a Theory of Instruction gathered my interest primarily Curriculum Midwives 153 because of the invitation to move “toward” a transforming instruction for the betterment of education. Considering that the curriculum has always been a “complicated conversation” (Pinar, 2004), I thought it would be interesting to have a conversation with Bruner to hear what he has to say about the curriculum and teaching. Bruner’s focus and interest is on the point of impact of the curriculum, the place where the rubber meets the road. His sight is set on what it takes to have meaningful instruction in the classroom. Unlike many other curriculum makers who design curriculum for the classroom, Bruner concentrates on the goings on of the classroom as the curriculum gets implemented by the teacher and the student. This is where the Zimbabwean teacher and curriculum maker, as any other teachers and curriculum makers, need to focus as well. It is not a mistake to say “the curriculum gets implemented by the teacher and the student” because these two are the subjects involved in curriculum operationalization (Eisner, 2002). Only the teacher can work with the student to transform the great ideas of any curriculumS into usable knowledge. Undeniably, the same can be said about the greatest teachers, parents. Whatever intergenerational knowledgeF they want the next generation to have can only reach their children when they work with the children! There are no two ways about it.O The richer, deeper, and more meaningful the learning process, the better prepared the children are to grapple with the challenges of theirO times. It, therefore, should not be surprising to find that Bruner’sR theory of instruction 3is captivating to educators. His work offers teachers and curriculum makers a roadmap to navigate the difficult and contestedP field of curriculum.1 Out of the fog generated by curriculum debates, Bruner’s theory0 of instruction shines a light to guide the workP of curriculum makers,2 teachers, and students, thus opening a window for best practice in education. Bruner believes that mental growthA of a student does not just happen but that it is influenced from outsideI the student as she ©or he engages in dialogue with agents of the culture into which she or he was born (Bruner, 1966). The “heart of the educational process” (Bruner, 1966, p. 21) depends on the help and dialogues to which students are exposed to in order for them to be able to translate their experiences into more powerful modes of representation. For Bruner, instruction is primarily about assisting or shaping growth, so his theory of instruction is an attempt to present the rigorous processes involved in promoting mental growth. But who is Jerome S. Bruner? Bruner occupies a unique place in the field of curriculum as a psychologist with an interest in how curricula get translated into student knowledge to benefit the students themselves, along with their societies. An important idea of Bruner’s theorizing is that disciplines have a structure, which, when understood, makes it possible for one to connect elements of that discipline much more easily 154 T. NGOROSHA

(Schubert, 2002). The structure of a discipline includes basic concepts, explanatory principles and insights, and depends on the nature of the discipline and an individual’s perception of what is considered critical in the discipline (Kielbard, 1965). Kielbard further suggests that the structure of subjects calls for attention to the central and not the peripheral aspects of the subjects. Curriculum planners should therefore underscore the fundamental aspects of a subject, which a teacher should bring to life when he or she interacts with students. Unfortunately, in an education system focused on examinations, the possibility of teachers not paying attention to the structure of the disciplines is high. Despite the rigor that the structure of the disciplines encourages, the one problem I see in the idea of the structure of the disciplines is that it can make curriculum makers and teachers work towards a cut-and-dry curriculum, which often precludes the intuitive aspects of learning. Bruner’s ideas about instruction revolve around the idea of making the learner master and participate in the structure of the disciplines.S Aligned with this idea is Bruner’s strong belief in the active agency of teachers and students as they seek to construct knowledge (Palmer, 2001).F Bruner thus advocates for the acknowledgement of the teacher’s active role in helping learners understand the underlying structure of eachO discipline. He wants teachers to develop generative thinking in their students as children are not supposed to be “assimilators of information”O (Palmer, 2001). He considered instruction as a process of fosteringR growth (Bruner, 1966),3 leading one to become a problem solver. When students are given opportunities to develop intellectually through learningP the structure of their subjects,1 they would be able to apply their knowledge and skills to similar0 and novel situations. Such opportunities would be helpful to 2redeem Zimbabwe’s secondary education system, whichP currently focuses on examinations more than a deep understandingIA of the curriculum.© Bruner and the Curriculum Tensions of the 1960s and Today

The 1960s, like the many decades before it and our present times as well, was not without its own share of curriculum tensions. This period was not spared the struggles about what should be taught in schools with dominant schools of thought fighting for supremacy (Schubert, 2002). It was during this decade that curriculum project authors in the U.S. created what were called “teacher-proof ” materials (Schubert, 2002). Quite disap- pointingly, the curriculum materials were highly structured and were meant to be used without regard to the contextual needs of teachers and students. Such projects were intended to make the teacher an instrument, if not an automaton, for delivering the curriculum. The intention behind Curriculum Midwives 155 such materials was to achieve the goals of the curriculum developer without the distortion the teacher was assumed to cause (Schubert, 2002). Teacher-proofing the curriculum causes the teacher to fail to offer instruction that attends to the intellectual development of the learner and other important contextual factors of the classroom. One example of a curriculum icon that focused on setting specific standards for teaching was Robert Mager with his book, Preparing Instructional Objectives (1962). Mager disapproved of the use of global objectives that characterized educational literature of the time. He advocated for what Schubert (2002) calls “business-like” specific objectives stated in observable behavior happening within specified time limits and meeting strict evaluative standards. Following this prescriptive trend, publishers com- mercially produced objectives that schools could buy and use. Once a teacher who deals with the nuances of classroom dynamics has lost control over the formulation of teaching objectives, education ceases to respond to the immediate needs of the student. Thus, Mager’s behavioralS objectives only served to satisfy the whims of the government agencies that value a means-ends kind of education. F The behavioral objectives project was part of the social behavioralist tradition against which the experientialist movementO emerged (Schubert, 2002). Philip Jackson was one of the educationists who also got disen- chanted with the quantitative movement.O He once remarked that classroom life was too complex to beR discussed from a single3 perspective (Jackson, 1968). Instead of heavily depending on paper-and-pencil tests, he saw the need to understandP the dynamism that underlies1 the complex activities of teaching and learning in classrooms.0 Bruner would agree with this view, as he believedP in the primacy of the2 learner’s interest and activity in constructing knowledge (Schubert, 2002). Unlike some curriculum scholars of theA 1960s who believed in the development of “teacher-proof ” curriculumI materials, Bruner (1960)© believed that curriculum materials should be made first for teachers before they are made for students. His argument for saying this was that if curriculum materials fail to have any impact on teachers, they would never have any effect on students. He describes “teacher-proofing” knowledge to avoid the contamination of it by the teacher as “nonsense.” This vitriolic pronouncement from a scholar of Bruner’s caliber may seem strong, but I think it is justified if one considers how “teacher-proofing” is a venomous concept in education. It kills all teacher initiative, and in the process shatters the student’s opportunity to engage in meaningful learning. The same can be said about making examinations the chief focus of schooling, which is the current practice in most Zimbabwean secondary schools. On the issue of math and science, which curriculum project leaders of the 1960s wanted to focus more on at the exclusion of the arts and 156 T. NGOROSHA humanities, Bruner (1960) argues that there is need to redouble efforts to have social studies, humanities, and language instruction taught in schools. He believes that literature and history can help students learn from the tragedy and triumph of humanity, and that the knowledge so gained is as important as understanding the structure of science disciplines. His ideas ran contrary to the essentialist intellectual traditionalism on which policy and practice were hinged in the 1960s and even today (Schubert, 2002). In Zimbabwe’s secondary schools, many parents, teachers, and students look down on the humanities. In the school where I taught for 16 years, I saw enrollment in the science and commercial subjects at the level of Advanced Certificate of Education swell by the year while enrollments in the humanities shrank. Many students considered enrolling in the humanities a last resort. One only chose to study humanities after one had failed to enroll into the science and commercial subjects that guaranteed prestige and high paying jobs. S Liberating Ideas in Toward a Theory of InstructionF Bruner’s Toward a Theory of Instruction (1966) isO a momentous work that not only challenges the current focus on examinations in Zimbabwe’s public education and elsewhere, but thatO also provides a foundational analysis of the pedagogical groundworkR that needs to be3 in place before any curriculum is exposed to learners. Bruner’s foundational pedagogical ideas geared toward intellectualP growth of students1 may be conveniently grouped under the following headings: (a) aspects0 of a theory of instruction; (b) individual Pdifferences; and (c) 2evaluation. Unlike the current examination movement in Zimbabwe and elsewhere, these areas put the child and theA teacher in the center of curriculum work. Through these areas BrunerI moves the teacher© and the student from the margins of the curriculum to the center as active participants in the intellectual development activities of schools. The narrative running through Toward a Theory of Instruction is that well executed instruction or teaching is all about helping students achieve intellectual growth by understanding the nature of their development, the structure of the disciplines, and the theory of instruction. The ultimate goal of instruction is to free the child from over dependence on environmental stimuli to communicate experience through language. Under- standing, which is tied to action and images (enactive and iconic modes), is necessary but not sufficient for dealing with phenomena that exists in the realm of the abstract. Instruction as envisioned by Bruner should help the student comprehend any material taught through action and images and still stretch the capacity so gained until language as a set of symbols Curriculum Midwives 157 becomes the medium for communicating understanding. With language being a tool for intellectual liberation, children should ultimately be able to communicate experience without depending on action or imagery (Bruner, 1966). For instance, students can dramatize peaceful election campaigns where people belonging to different political parties can still live peacefully together in their communities. As they continue to engage the subject of political freedoms at the symbolic level of language, they can begin to articulate political propositions by discussing human rights and freedoms. That way instruction will have helped them move from the enactive mode to the symbolic mode where they can engage in complex problem-solving debates. Bruner believes intellectual growth through well thought-out and executed instruction should lead to the use of words to capture and communicate all possibilities whether distant or near, abstract or hardly imaginable. He asserts that when such powerful representations of the world of possibilities are constructed and used, it is possible toS use them as “search models in problem solving.” I must, however, sayF that it takes a lot of effort and patience on the part of whoever is facilitating learning to allow students to grow intellectually following Bruner’sO instructional roadmap. Teachers who have the responsibility to help children grow intellectually must not only be knowledgeable aboutO the nature of the learner but must also be prepared to negotiate the detours on the road of every child’s intellectual growth. R 3 To reach the level of intellectual development 1envisaged by Bruner (1966), the trinity between Pthe theory of development,0 the theory of knowledge, and the theory of instruction should be maintained; otherwise the theory of developmentP will be “doomed2 to triviality” (p. 21). The theory of developmentA is represented by the modes of representation, namely, theI enactive, the iconic,© and the symbolic. If students reach the symbolic mode of representation, they have realized the height of intellectual development. But students cannot get there without experiencing a robust theory of knowledge developed by scholars, and a theory of instruction executed by the teacher in his or her interaction with the student and the environment. The theory of intellectual development is based on the premise that basic skills must be understood first before complicated ones are mastered, hence the idea of a spiral curriculum (Bruner, 1960, 1966). The spiral curriculum offers learning material at successive levels of difficulty with previous learning being a prerequisite for later learning (Harden & Stamper, 1999). This kind of curriculum creates opportunities for the teacher to move with the learner from simple to complex concepts (Harden & Stamper, 1999) thus laying a firm foundation for a problem-based education. 158 T. NGOROSHA

Following the logic of the spiral curriculum, Bruner (1960) scoffs at the idea of “readiness,” which some scholars advocate teachers should wait for before they present new learning material. He argues that readiness should be nurtured because it does not just come on its own. In whatever area of human learning, be it geometry, thermodynamics, or environmental sustainability, opportunities must be created for children to develop mastery in simpler terms so that the potential is developed for the understanding of knowledge at higher levels. Bruner gives the example of developing readiness for the teaching of Euclidian geometry by teaching intuitive geometry or exposing children to complex constructions using polygons. In short, Bruner (1966) advocates for a curriculum that values the mastery of simpler knowledge which creates opportunities for the mastery of much more complex knowledge. Under an examination- driven regime like the one in many Zimbabwe secondary schools, such a curriculum is not valued. Bruner’s theory of instruction seems to make the argumentS that not just education but a particular kind of education will save us (Orr, 2004). Carefully examined, Bruner’s theory of instruction is a normativeF theory establishing standards against which effective teaching should be measured. His theory of instruction is based on four features,O namely, predisposition towards learning; the structure of a body of knowledge; effective sequence of learning material; and the natureO and pacing of rewards and punishments during instruction. OnR individual predispositions3 toward learning, Bruner argues that there are personal, motivational, and cultural factors that influence theP desire to learn and these1 should be understood with the aim of maximizing students’ positive0 dispositions. These observations are difficultP if not impossible2 to dispute as no two individuals learn in the same way or grasp ideas at the same pace. We all differ in things that engageA our interest across disciplines, contexts, and times. In some cultures,I inquisitiveness and© the asking of questions are not discour- aged and young people nurtured in such cultures should be more open to experiences that lead to complex intellectual growth. In Zimbabwe, a culture of supporting such inquiry does not exist in most schools. The teacher-centered curriculum, limping along from the legacy of the oppressive colonial education system, discourages the asking of critical questions by students. Asking critical questions is generally viewed as challenging authority, as reflective of the banking education teacher-student relationship bequeathed to us by colonialism (Freire, 1993). In any learning process, Bruner (1966) sees an unequal balance of authority with the instructor having more authority than the student. It is the proper regulation of the authority underlying the teacher-student relationship that determines the kind of learning possible. The proper use of authority should create space for the learner to become independent and Curriculum Midwives 159 develop the confidence to perform tasks on his or her own. The teacher must regulate his or her authority to allow the learner to develop minimum mastery upon which special skills needed to engage in problem solving can be built (Bruner, 1966). Bruner argues that different cultural groups view intellectual activity differently. Some cultural traditions have more successful predispositions in the development of scientists, scholars, and artists. Zimbabwe needs to urgently change the oppressive teacher-student relationship and cultivate an instructional culture that promotes the development of students’ intellect in whatever direction is possible. Our teachers need to make the classroom a space for the optimal intellectual growth of students by establishing problem-posing instruction. Another aspect of learners’ predispositions is the ability to explore alternatives in problem solving. This predisposition does not just occur without a deliberate effort by the teacher to develop it. It depends on three aspects, namely, activation, maintenance, and direction (Bruner, 1966). These three integrated processes simply mean getting theS exploration of alternatives on problem-solving started, maintained and targeted, respectively (Bruner, 1966). Each of these processes Fmakes its own demands on the teacher. Activation would require the teacher to create uncertainty to encourage the exploration of alternatives.O In my experience as a learner and as a teacher, the use of uncertainty to encourage the exploration of alternatives was an exceptionO rather than the rule in our classrooms where the teacher-studentR ratio is often as high3 as 1:45. To improve instruction, a reduction of the teacher-student ratio is urgently needed in Zimbabwe. As a teacherP creates uncertainty,1 cut-and-dried routine tasks that invite little exploration should0 be avoided whereas too uncertain exercises Pleading to confusion2 and anxiety and discouraging exploration should not be part of the learning process, either. For exploration of alternativesA to be maintained, the benefits of alternative exploration shouldI be higher than ©the risks the learner faces. To achieve direction, the learner should know, at least to some extent, the goal of exploring various alternatives (Bruner, 1966). These are fundamental ideas that every Zimbabwean teacher needs to master to bring the curriculum home to the students in the classroom. If parents, teachers, school administrators, and ministry of education officials focused on these aspects of the theory of instruction, our students would experience a richer and more liberating curriculum. On the structure of knowledge, Bruner (1966) makes the argument that any idea, body of knowledge, or problem can be presented to the learner in a form simple enough to be understood by the learner as long as it is presented in the correct mode of representation and with the proper economy and power. The mode of representation makes it possible to present knowledge or a problem in a form accessible to the learner. 160 T. NGOROSHA

In the enactive mode, knowledge is presented in the form of action, whereas in the iconic mode it is presented as images, and in the symbolic mode it is presented as logical propositions or a set of symbols. These modes of presentation occur in their order of complexity and it should be noted that in any particular mode different learners still encounter different challenges. Economy refers to the amount of information that a learner must hold in his or her mind and process in order to comprehend the given material. If a learner has to process a lot of information in order to understand a given problem and reach a conclusion, the problem has less economy. Power is a concept related to the capacity of a representation to allow the learner to make connections to bodies of knowledge that may appear quite unrelated (Bruner, 1966). Bruner’s theory of instruction values the sequence in which material is presented to the learner because it affects the achievement of mastery. Sequence is closely related to modes of representation in intellectual development in the sense that a body of knowledge must be presentedS to the learner following the enactive, iconic, and symbolic modes. Such a sequence makes it possible for the learners to not onlyF understand the abstraction underlying a body of knowledge but to also have actions and images useful to the understanding of a body of knowledgeO (Bruner, 1966). The symbolic mode of representation stands for the learner’s intellectual autonomy and reflection, which are the ultimateO goals of instruction. The iconic representation mode—whichR represents imagery that3 a learner can use to understand problems—is said to be very important in understanding new problems (Bruner, 1966).P In fact, Bruner argues1 that imagery (iconic) is critical in the life of a learner as it enables him 0or her to heuristically relate problems faced to thoseP previously encountered.2 Teachers should make an effort to not only privilege logical propositions but to employ images in exploring bodiesA of knowledge. Logical propositions dominate Zimbabwe’s classrooms Ias most teachers are given© to lecturing as they prepare students for examination. Instruction that involves hands-on activities and the use of audio-visuals is considered as time wasting. This attitude needs to change if our children are to experience meaningful learning. The theory of instruction propounded by Bruner (1966) clearly shows that curriculum materials require rigorous planning and preparation if issues of learners’ predispositions, structure of disciplines, and sequence of learning material are to be incorporated. To be able to create curriculum materials with the rigor discussed in the preceding paragraphs, there is need for collaboration among the teacher, the psychologist, the subject specialist, and the student. Bruner (1966) makes this point clear when he says that the curriculum as a thing in balance cannot undergo piecemeal development whereby content, teaching method, visual aids, and other features are not considered as part of a unified whole. As pointed out earlier, the idea Curriculum Midwives 161 of a “teacher-proof ” or “student-proof ” curriculum is retrogressive as it takes out of the process of instruction people who are critically important in the experience and evaluation of curriculum (Bruner, 1966). A curriculum cannot be evaluated outside the interaction between the teacher and the student and neither can it be meaningfully evaluated without the input of the teacher and the student. These observations need to be appreciated by those driving the examination movement and seeking to reduce teachers to the level of “domestic workers” (Pinar, 2004), not professional workers who must offer rigorous instruction.

Bruner’s Theory of Instruction as a Curriculum Window

Bruner’s theory of instruction recognizes that the work of the teacher on the curriculum is far more important than is realized by those who think schooling is all about passing examinations. Ladson-Billings’ S(2006) apt observation that “No curriculum can teach itself ” (p. 33) summarizes the potency of Bruner’s theory of instruction. Her argumentF that exceptional curriculum made available to teachers who lack instructional skills is put to waste is valid. Noddings (1999) agrees with this view;O she believes teachers who lack competence do not have response-ability. Competent teachers, through their instructional work with the students,O are the midwives of the curriculum. They are not mere conduitsR to transmit the curriculum3 to students (Kim, 2011). They do not discourage students from being critical and raising questions about what theyP are taught. If teachers1 are ill-prepared for their job, the curriculum faces imminent death0 in the process of coming into life. If their handsP are tied, say by unreasonable2 expectations for examination results, teachers cannot develop and use instructional strategies that encourageA students to challenge and experiment with alternatives (Kim, 2011).I Bruner’s theory of© instruction not only shows the value that society should place on the process of education but also on the paramount importance of the teacher to the education of the child. His detailed and rigorous theory of instruction reveals that the goal of education is to educate children and develop them into problem-solving, responsible citizens with critical minds and good character (Ravitch, 2010). For Bruner (1966), the curriculum should not only focus on the nature of knowledge but must also seriously focus on the nature of the knower and the process of knowledge-getting, thus indicating that the teacher, the student, the subject matter, and the method of teaching are necessarily inseparable. Contrary to the idea of teachers being there merely to deliver the curriculum to their students, Bruner’s conviction is that curriculum preparation should be a joint effort between the subject-matter specialist, the teacher, and the psychologist who should all focus on the structure of 162 T. NGOROSHA the material, its sequencing, the management of reinforcement, and the development and maintenance of predispositions to problem solving. Bruner’s (1966) views on instruction offer us a window out of an examination-driven education system. The other window that Bruner’s To w a rd a T h e o r y o f I n s t r u c t i o n (1966) opens is the possibility of having curriculum that focuses on international issues such as peace and environmental sustainability. The idea of having instruction that does not just focus on examination results but also allows students to engage with fundamental structures of disciplines, offers space for the investigation of such complex issues as international peace and environmental sustainability. Through the use of the spiral curriculum, which thrives on the appropriate sequencing of learning material, complex issues like international peace and environmental sustainability can be engaged with regardless of the age of the learner. Brookfield (1995) asserts that teaching is meant to change the world so that people can relate with one another and their environment with compassion,S understanding, and fairness. Carrying out such a projectF is not possible under an educational regime that privileges examination results over critical understanding of issues. O Teaching children about national and global peace while harnessing their modes of representation from the enactiveO through the symbolic mode should make them develop a language for understanding such issues. As observed by Pinar, Reynolds, Slattery,R and Taubman,3 (1995), global education is about the interconnectedness, the interdependence,1 and the interrelationship that exist amongP world cultures.0 To be able to see the abstract interconnections students should have opportunities to delve into the foundational structuresP of disciplines like2 history, geography, literature, political science,A and economics. They need a stock of imagery and the language ofI abstraction developed© through the iconic and the symbolic modes of representation (Bruner, 1966). Bruner’s (1966) theory of instruction appears to have the depth and breadth to accommodate such a curriculum, thus offering us a window to see into the future where Zimbabwe and our global habitat benefit from “peacemakers, healers, restorers, storytellers and lovers,” and not the “ecologically illiterate” graduates that our education system is producing (Orr, 2004, p. 12). Bruner’s theory of instruction should prove to be useful for Zimbabwe’s education system as it could shift the focus of schooling from tests to values that deepen the educational experience. Every classroom must create opportunities for students to engage in problem solving, whose ultimate purpose is making students practice compassion and care with fellow human beings and the natural environment first at the local level but always growing outwards to embrace the entire world with all its biodiversity. Curriculum Midwives 163

Conclusion

Zimbabwe’s secondary education system needs to change its focus from examinations to meaningful instruction. It is rigorous instruction that will make students develop problem-solving skills, and that will make the nation deal with its socioeconomic and political problems. The purpose of education goes beyond examinations. Education should not just be used to prepare students to do better in school but to do better in life (Eisner, 2003). This is the idea that curriculum debates seem to have missed not only during the 1960s but also in decades prior to the 1960s and in our own times. The examination movement that has infected the Zimbabwean education systems needs a theory of instruction like the one proposed by Bruner (1966). Such a theory of instruction would enable teachers to turn the intended curriculum into operational curriculum with a kind of mastery that helps the student grow intellectually. Such a theory of instruction consecrates teachers as curriculum midwives for the benefit ofS students, society, and our global home. It creates the capacity of students to be problem solvers and to grow into self-actualizing people.OF REFERENCESO Baine, D., & Mwamwenda, T. (1994). Education in Southern Africa: Current conditions and future directions. InternationalR Review of Education,3 40(2), 113-134. Brookfield, S. (1995). Becoming a critically reflective teacher.1 San Francisco, CA: Jossey-Bass. P Bruner, J. (1960). The process of education. New York, 0NY: Vintage Books. Bruner, J. (1966). TowardP a theory of instruction. 2New York, NY: W.W. & Norton. Dewey, J. (1916). Democracy and education. New York, NY: Macmillan. Eisner, E. W. (2002).A The educational imagination: On the design and evaluation of school programsI . Columbus, OH:© Merrill Prentice Hall. Eisner, E. W. (2003). What does it mean to say that a school is doing well. In A. Ornstein and L. Behar-Horeinsten (Eds.), Contemporary issues in curriculum (3rd ed., pp. 239-247). Boston, MA: Allyn & Bacon. Freire, P. (1993). Pedagogy of the oppressed. New York, NY: Continuum. Harden, R. M., & Stamper, N. (1999). What is a spiral curriculum? Medical Teacher, 21(2), 141-143. Jackson, P. (1968). Life in the classrooms. New York, NY: Holt, Rinehart and Winston. Kielbard, H. (1965). Structure of the disciplines as an educational slogan. Te ac h e rs College Record, LXVI, 7, 598-603. Kim, Y. (2011). The case against the delivery of the curriculum. Phi Delta Kappan, 92(7), 54-56. Ladson-Billings, G. (2006). “Yes, but how do we do it?” In J. Landsman & C. W. Lewis (Eds.), White teachers/diverse classrooms: A guide to building inclusive schools, promoting high expectations, and elimination of racism (pp. 29-42). Sterling, VA: Stylus. 164 T. NGOROSHA

Mager, R. (1962). Preparing instructional objectives. Belmont, CA: Fearon. Noddings, N. (1999). Caring and competence. In G. A. Griffin (Ed.), The education of teachers: Ninety-eighth yearbook of the national society for the study of education. Chicago, IL: The University of Chicago Press. Orr, D. (2004). Earth in mind: On education, environment and the human prospect. Washington, DC: Island Press. Palmer, J. A. (Ed.). (2001). Fifty modern thinkers on education: From Piaget to the present. New York, NY: Routledge. Pinar, W. F. (2004). What is curriculum theory. Mahwah, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum. Pinar, W. F., Reynolds, W. M., Slattery, P., & Taubman, P. M. (1995). Understanding curriculum: An introduction to the study of historical and contemporary curriculum discourses. Washington, DC: Peter Lang. Ravitch, D. (2010). The death and the life of the great American school system: How testing and choice are undermining education. New York, NY: Basic Books. Schubert, W. (2002). Curriculum books: The first hundred years (2nd ed.). New York, NY: Routledge. FS OO PR 13 P 20 IA © CHAPTER 10

STUDENT PROTEST Blind Ignorance or Empowering Curriculum?S R. RADINA Rachel Radina OF Once we have “arrived” at the highest pointO of educational attainment, should we simply take advantage of the privilege we have been afforded by becoming complicit in the perpetuationR and performance3 of the rituals of the status quo? Should we closetP our identities, which1 were labeled as deviant or othered in order to keep us out of these0 spaces in which we are now made to feel unwelcome? Those of us who do not fit the “ideal type” of student must Passimilate into the2 White, middle/upper class, heterosexual, Aable-bodied culture or face the consequences. There seems to be little roomI for transformation,© even within programs that tout social justice and the transformative possibilities of education. Through my essay I hope to reopen a window that Joseph Schwab and others have worked hard to nail shut. Student protest is a necessary component of the collegiate community and should not be conceptualized as a problem. Students must have the ability to rise up against the injustices they see in society. Throughout history resistance has been one of the more fruitful ways that positive change has occurred (e.g., civil rights movement, women’s movement, American Indian Movement). Those who continue to deny and fail to see injustices merely perpetuate a system that privileges

Curriculum Windows: What Curriculum Theorists of the 1960s Can Teach Us About Schools and Society Today, pp. 165–180 Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved. 165 166 R. RADINA

White, middle class ways of knowing and communicating. As an educator, an activist, and a scholar, I refuse to remain docile while certain voices are excluded, marginalized, and silenced. This essay, like student protest, is an act of resistance, and resistance is an act of love. Joseph Schwab was born on February 2, 1909, and died on April 13, 1988. Much of his career was spent at the University of Chicago and he first entered the university setting as a student at the age of 15. In Under- standing Curriculum (Pinar, Reynolds, Slattery, & Taubman, 2004), Schwab is cited as one of the “‘giants’ of the curriculum field” (p. 177) and “one of the most brilliant and influential minds that the curriculum field has known” (p. 197). I will not debate this point; my task instead, is to examine his text on student protest and the curriculum, because on this topic I think he missed the mark. However, it is important to keep in mind that cultural hegemony often works to prop up the work of particular theorists and relegate others to the margins. I also question if Schwab and other scholars were paying attention to the curriculum outside of theS university during the 1960s. Did Schwab learn lessons from the wise words and work of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.? In his inspirational I HaveF a Dream speech in 1963, Dr. King said, “we have come to this hallowed spot to remind Americans of the fierce urgency of now” and he calledO upon American citizens to take collective action by stating, “now is the time to make real the promises of democracy.” Perhaps in the 1960s,O students decided to take heed to Dr. King’s call to action and work to create a more3 just society, starting on their own campuses. R In 1968, just before Schwab’sP book was published,1 Dr. King and Robert Kennedy were assassinated. Perhaps we should0 trouble the hidden curriculum of these heinousP acts. Resist and we 2will destroy you. Resist and face the ultimate silence. Perhaps students were suffering from traumatic events that theyA could hardly comprehend and perhaps, unlike Schwab’s claim that Istudent protest was ©symptomatic of ignorance that could be quelled by curricular prescriptions, there was much more to their cries of solidarity and collective acts of resistance. I would argue that student protest during the 1960s was not symptomatic of the curriculum, but was symptomatic of the larger struggle that was taking place both in and outside of the university.

Schwab’s Argument

Joseph Schwab’s book, College Curriculum and Student Protest, was published in 1969, during a time of great struggle and resistance. Just as Schwab suggested that the curriculum field was moribund, he seems to make a similar argument about student protest. I agree with Schwab that Student Protest 167 student protest is symptomatic of a larger problem, yet I do not agree with his conceptualization of the problem nor his proposed solutions. Schwab’s conceptualization of student protest as a problem can be captured in this passage on the very first page of his book when he describes student protest as:

Presenting symptoms of evils of their education; student ineptitudes and ignorances indicating neglects by the curriculum; perversities indicating distortions and mistreatments. (p. 3)

Schwab (1969) continues on to describe his book as a resource to treat these “curricular ills” and finally he makes the bold statement that his intent is to provide “a series of specific prescriptions drawing on these resources and aiming to ameliorate the ills identified” (p. 3, emphasis added). From this statement it is easy to conclude that Schwab sees student protest as a problem or “ill” that needs to be remedied. He sees the actions of student protestors as deviant and wants to provideS the “pre- scription” that will cure this “ill” (p. 3). He does state thatF the prescriptions will not abolish or quiet student protest; he suggests the prescriptions will only improve it (p. 3). Schwab’sO prescriptions can be conceptualized as educational reform and it is important to make the point that reform movements can be dangerous.O Reforms, such as those Schwab is suggesting, can stifle and suffocate resistance.3 In fact, Schwab seems to be purposefully aiming toR do just that. Schwab also suggests that his book is aimed at improvingP upon the “ills of the1 curriculum” and so will benefit most students, not just student protestors0 (p. 3). I do not mean to suggest that I disagree with all or even most of Schwab’s suggestionsP for improving the 2curriculum; however, I do disagree with hisA claim that improving the curriculum will impact student protest, or Ieven that it should. ©Designing the curriculum with the intent to silence resistance is nothing more than a form of social control and should be troubled, particularly at the university level. Schwab discusses his curriculum redesign in great detail, describing a curriculum based on collaboration and applied learning. He also describes teacher and student (as well as student and student) as partners in learning and problem solving. Additionally, Schwab (1969) puts forth the idea that the curriculum must be multifaceted and address multiple learning goals at the same time in order to be most effective. However, as he calls for a more collaborative, experiential learning environment, he also suggests that students should learn about public policy through apprenticeships. This is merely another tactic to assimilate students into an already existing social order as evidenced by this quote, “he must be able to keep his mouth shut; he must be prepared to conform to the exterior signs of acceptability 168 R. RADINA required by the cooperating agency” (p. 139). Additionally, students could only obtain an apprenticeship through a very selective process. Schwab posits that students picked for these experiences would likely be looked to as leaders by other students. This only furthers the ability of the university to create conformity amongst the student body. Schwab (1969) suggests that students, similar to assistant professors, are unaware of how decisions are made in the university. He further suggests that neither group—students or assistant professors—have the skills or knowledge necessary to make good decisions. It seems highly problematic that Schwab is not only diminishing the capabilities of students, but also his own colleagues. He then goes on to suggest that this is the case because we (the university) have not taught them how to make good decisions and in fact often model bad decision making. Although it may seem Schwab is taking responsibility for the problem and coming up with a solution, his position is very paternalistic, arrogant, and condescending. He is basically essentializing all students and assistant professorsS and making the argument that he and other knowledgeable folks in the university must remedy their ignorance by imparting wisdomF upon them. He suggests students and assistant professors are lacking decision making competence for the following reasons: (a) they Odo not know the facts needed to make decisions (lacking in knowledge); (b) they do not know what to do with the multitude of facts evenO when they know them (lacking skills); and (c) they have no long standingR commitment to3 the university (lack of motivation and this also suggests a lack of a sense of community). His continued suggestion thatP students are ignorant1 is maddening: “he does not know a fact when he sees one. He does0 not even know how to look” (p. 20). He blames the ignorance of2 students on the curriculum, but this does not excuseP his sweeping assumptions. He accuses student protestors of using wordsA they don’t understand, in contexts that are unrelated. Perhaps theseI students are experiencing© and questioning problems that Schwab himself fails to see. I find it highly problematic that Schwab never examines his own values, ideologies, or privilege. Some might suggest this is just a sign of the times (i.e., the late 1960s) and those in positions of privilege didn’t turn the lens back on themselves. However, this is not the case, since Richard Flacks (1971) does discuss his own political position and possible biases in his book about student protest, which I will further explore later in the essay.

Community: Assimilation Versus Counterculture

One of the main arguments in Schwab’s (1969) book is that students are not included in the collegiate community; therefore, they create their Student Protest 169 own communities because of this exclusion. Schwab suggests that the scholarly community is all but hidden from the students. He suggests that in order to facilitate community three things are needed: (1) a community needs to exist; (2) there should be a place within the community for students; and (3) there should be various ways for students to enter into the community. However, this seems to suggest assimilation into an already existing community and leaves no space for students to build their own discursive communities. Schwab also suggests that many student protestors are merely participating in student protest for fun and/or because they have limited alternative choices to satisfy their needs. Again Schwab is assuming they have no justifiable reasons to resist. Schwab discusses the various reasons students get involved in activism, but more important discusses why they stay involved. Once students participate in their first act of solidarity (Schwab uses a sit-in as an example), they experience a sense of community. Schwab describes the students as “starved of community,” but states that something is missing in this newly formed community,S “it lacks a history and a future” (p. 31). Schwab also suggests that students sense that something is missing as well but they can’t nameF it. I would argue that every social movement has to start somewhere and we all share a collective history. Of course, that collectiveO history will be quite different depending upon one’s race, class, gender, and sexuality. Schwab’s (1969) denial of a collective historyO only further calls attention to his unacknowledged privilege andR power. Furthermore,3 how can he be so arrogant to suggest that the newly formed community doesn’t have a future while at the same timeP he is writing a book to1 silence student protest, to ensure that it doesn’t? Schwab’s condescending0 and disrespectful tone can best be capturedP by this quote: “community2 is much more than a warm, crowded nest with lots of cheeping” (pp. 31-32). Schwab continuesA his utter disregard and lack of respect for students’ own agencyI and ability to form© community by stating that students should be given a role in the college community. He totally disregards student agency and fails to see the transformative possibility of students creating their own community. I do not mean to suggest that students who form community together should not enter into the larger conversation with the entire campus community, but I am suggesting they should also be given the space to foster their own collective community. I would also agree that there is a deficiency in the curriculum when it comes to community, because we teach students to compete, not to collaborate. We often teach them to look out for themselves and not others, privileging the individual over the collective good of society. Community is in fact so foreign to some students that many reject the notion of the common- good altogether. Grace Lee Boggs (2011) argues, “individuals can develop to their human potential only through their involvement in com- 170 R. RADINA munity” (p. 58). Capitalism has stolen the ability to build community and democracy must take it back. If student activism can help facilitate community building, then perhaps we need to learn from activism instead of suggesting that students have it all wrong. Although Schwab has some good ideas about building community for (not with) students, his plan still seems misguided. He suggests that students should merely assimilate into the current collegiate community and play by the rules. Although Schwab does fault the administration and professors for their part in not making space for students in the current community, most of the onus of ignorance is placed on the backs of students. He assumes that students are ignorant and lacking in experience. He refuses to see that students do not come to college with empty hearts and minds waiting to be filled up by knowledgeable instructors who will remedy their ignorance and naiveté (Freire, 1970). Schwab (1969) describes student protestors as, “blinded by passionate conviction that they already know all they need to know, even when they do not know what Sit means to know” (p. 274). It may be true that some students come to college with ideals and expectations that may be unrealistic and naïve;F however, this does not mean they have nothing to contribute prior to being molded by an institution that refuses to bend to the lived experiencesO of students and citizens. It is also important to note that many students have experienced life in ways that professors and administratorsO will never know. They have struggled to get to collegeR and then upon3 arrival come to the realization that the hegemonic halls of higher education have not been designed with them inP mind, but instead designed1 for those who have continually been afforded unearned privilege.0 In a White supremacist, elitist, male dominated,P heterosexist2 society, we cannot and should not assume that students who come to college should merely assimilate into the dominantA culture. When one suggests, such as Schwab does, that students merelyI need to be acculturated© into the already existing structure of the university, he fails to recognize that difference is not deficit and in a democratic society we should respect the multitude of voices, not work to silence them. Student protest is indeed symptomatic of a larger problem, but not the problems Schwab outlines in his ode to the collegiate community that he holds in such high esteem. College should be used as a democratic space to question the status quo, not maintain it. Schwab believes students should be taught the arts of deliberation so that they can understand and participate in decision-making that impacts their lives at the university. However, Nancy Fraser (1997) is wary of deliberation as a mode of equal participation in decision making, as often “deliberation can serve as a mask for domination” (p. 78). Fraser points out that people entering into the public sphere to deliberate inherently do not come to the table as equal partners and thus the dominant group Student Protest 171 remains the most powerful and may always have the final say when making decisions. In conversations on college campuses, faculty and administrators are often the stakeholders with the most power, the latter possessing the most control, thus the deliberative model that Schwab calls for is not the most effective mode to build student community. Fraser argues that the “bourgeois, masculine, White-supremacist” conceptualization of the public sphere operates under four basic assumptions, one of those being, “a single, comprehensive public sphere is always preferable to a nexus of multiple publics” (p. 76). Schwab seems to be suggesting that there should indeed only be one public in the public sphere on the college campus, as he refuses to recognize student protestors as a legitimate public. Student protest, resistance, and solidarity provides the space to create a counter public powerful enough to have real decision-making power when coming to the table. Throughout his book Schwab uses his privilege and authority to deem himself as expert and position student activists as the ignorant S“other.” In order to successfully “other” the students, he must conceptualize them as deviant and deficit. Schwab is intellectually and physicallyF policing the bodies of students by defining what they should and should not be. He seeks to assimilate students into the academy inO order to create docile bodies that will no longer question the status quo. Schwab is trying to the- orize away student agency and their abilityO to be a knower. Schwab uses the language of science to wield hisR hegemonic sword to illicit3 compliance and force students to play by his already defined rules or else. If we as a nation wish to call ourselves aP democracy, our public1 spaces should be utilized to transform society and allow all voices0 to be heard. Assimilation white washes the multiplicity of subject positions2 within our society and acts as a melting potP of oppression, which seeks to erase the differences inherent in aA culturally diverse society. An assimilationist approach also normalizesI Whiteness and labels© as deviant or “other” all subjects that do not fit the White master trait that has been created through ideology. We must teach students to resist merely assimilating into already existing cultures and communities that do not meet their needs. There are many lessons to learn from the various forms of resistance that were occurring across the country during the 1960s.

Student Protest in the 1960s: Blind Ignorance?

The 1960s brought a new wave of youth culture that created a counter culture of students who began to question their unearned privilege as students (Flacks, 1971). Richard Flacks, an activist scholar and former member of the Students for a Democratic Society (SDS), suggested that youth 172 R. RADINA revolt is a sign of “cultural breakdown” (p. 18). The 60s were a time of resistance and push back against many of the government policies and lack of governance that were hindering the realization of the ideals of democracy. Students were resisting racial inequality, poverty, war, and the generally authoritative policies of the university administration. Students were not rising up because of boredom or lack of understanding, as Schwab suggests; their world was in turmoil and they sought to make change in a society that seemed on the verge of total destruction. Students were concerned that the focus of government officials on the Vietnam War was detracting from the real work of creating much needed domestic policy reform (Flacks, 1971). As described by Flacks, starting with the Black youth-led movement in the 1960s, where sit-ins were the primary mode of resistance against segregation, “students, acting in their roles as students, had become effective agents of change” (Flacks, 1971, p. 75). Students had decided to take part in history instead of passively waiting for change. The Civil Rights Movement created a space for youth revolutionS and solidarity. In 1962, SDS came into existence with the goalF of “building a more democratically organized social order” (Flacks, 1971, p. 78). Between 1964-1965 the Free Speech MovementO began at Berkeley in which students orchestrated a massive sit-in, ending in the arrest of 800 students (Flacks, 1971). However, this alsoO led to negotiations between the students and faculty senate and created a spark that spread like wild fire, as students across the U.S. began toR demand change both3 in and outside of their universities. In April of 1965 the SDS organized1 25,000 students to participate in a national marchP on Washington0 protesting the war in Vietnam (Flacks, 1971). The lack of response to the rising tide of public concern about the warP prompted students2 to step up their direct action tactics. Many Astudents were protesting the draft by burning their draft cards and refusingI to serve. Students© were literally fighting for their lives; this was nothing to make light of or brush off as lack of understanding. In October of 1967, 100,000 people demonstrated their resistance to the war by sitting on the steps of the Pentagon. By 1968 the SDS had chapters on 350 campuses (Flacks, 1971). Schwab’s book was published in 1969 and the following year there was a massive student strike demonstrating public disapproval of the invasion of Cambodia. Unfortunately, students in Ohio and Mississippi were killed during this strike; this extreme means of silencing student resistance was only proof that their tactics were actually working. Before the passage of the 26th Amendment in 1971, which changed the voting age from 21 to 18, many of the students who were protesting against the war and other atrocities didn’t even have the right to vote. In 1969, when the draft was implemented, students could be forced to fight in a war against their will Student Protest 173 when they didn’t even have the voting power to elect the government officials who were making life and death decisions about their lives. I cannot even begin to imagine the sense of rage and perhaps hopelessness that many students felt during this time. Perhaps student protest was the only thing that kept students from going completely mad. Young men were treated like children in the university and then expected to transition into adults over night when they were forced to fight for their country in an unjust war that most Americans did not support. The racial injustice at this time was also atrocious and for Schwab to suggest that students had no right or reason to protest or resist seems absurd. We all have a shared responsibility in the fight for justice and if anything Schwab should have been morally prompted to fight alongside students instead of writing books designed to placate student protest. Shame on any academic in a position of privilege and power who does not teach students that they have the power to change society for the better. We must teach students to “talk back” (hooks, 1989, p. 5) and we must be brave enough toS join them. We are all responsible for demanding justice “when some individualsF suffer from injustice, then individuals, collectives, and institutions are all obliged to use any means available to promote justice”O (Young, 2011, p. 69). Student protestors are simply taking up that responsibility and demanding change. O As stated by Flacks (1971), studentR movements “constitute3 the breeding ground for those who will eventually lead broader mass movements of nationalist, reformist, or revolutionaryP character” (p.1 14). Students have the ability and time to become boundary spanners0 that can trouble the disconnection betweenP community life and2 university life. Students can become powerful change agents when given the space to criticize and trouble theI socialA structures they are immersed within. They can uncover the myth of meritocracy, which© works as a technology of power to maintain social order amongst college youth. This myth has been put in place to make students believe they can achieve the American dream as long as they assimilate into the culture of capitalism. The culture of capitalism conceptualizes education as a means to an end. Education serves the purpose of getting a job and nothing more; most students are not taught to become civic-minded participants of a democracy and therefore they do not resist at all. Civic life is set-aside for the elite who will work to maintain the status quo, as it best serves their interests and ability to accumulate wealth. Students can take back their rights to participate in democracy by building community with one another and resisting forced assimilation into a culture that was created to privilege and reward compliance. 174 R. RADINA

The Purpose of this Critique

I want to be clear that the point of this essay is not to attack Schwab. This essay is in response to the constant attacks on anyone who refuses to conform to a system that has been used to “other” in the name of progress. Our bodies have been bruised and sometimes broken by the structures that violently push us to the margins when we refuse to assimilate. Schwab is just one of many in the field of curriculum who because of unearned privilege gets to decide what education should entail. He is one of many who has been afforded the right to deem what does and does not count as knowledge. I refuse to silence the voices who have been brave enough to speak by finding something of value from Schwab’s text. That is not to say there is no value, but I have chosen to suggest that we move beyond White, male hegemony and let students have room to breathe and enter the college community on their own terms. As educators we need to work to change the narrative inS regards to what it means to live and participate in a democratic society by explicitly telling students democracy ought to be a tool used toF uplift, not to oppress. I firmly believe the only way we can move beyond the current reality is to imagine “what can be” because “whatO is” only seeks to create docile bodies that will bend to the whims of the current systematic structure that contorts bodies and colonizesO minds to become assimilation specialists in the “knowledge factory”R (Tokarczyk & Fay, 1993).3 Schwab himself even discusses the need for outside voices in order to ensure the needs of all communityP members are being1 met. He, too, realized that those who are closest to the institution0 could easily fall prey to protecting and maintainingP antiquated 2systems of privilege. However, Schwab’s solution is to incorporate student voices through assigning them positions on variousA committees across campus, giving students decision- making power.I However, if you ©look at universities today, many do utilize this mode of inclusion, but it’s akin to tokenism, as students are merely there to give the illusion of inclusion and voice. Students are also hand picked and it should come as no surprise that many students who are afforded these privileges fit quite nicely into the dominant script. Schwab also suggests that only certain types of students should be allowed to enter into the decision-making circle, thus all voices are not fully represented at the table. Again this seems to be an attempt to silence any dissident voices, which seems antithetical to democracy. Student protestors are not there to annoy and waste time, they actually serve a much greater purpose and in the absence of their presence one might assume that everything is fine in our institutions of higher education. In most instances this couldn’t be further from the truth and the illusion of progress should fool no one. Student protestors are needed to Student Protest 175 point out the many ways that the university marginalizes, silences, and pushes out those bodies that refuse to conform to the already existing culture of the university. Perhaps we shouldn’t be teaching conformity and instead we should teach students to resist and transgress beyond what currently is. Isn’t this the only way we have ever made progress throughout our history? Resistance comes in many forms and protest is one form of resistance that we should not seek to control, mute, and suffocate. Just as the health of our ecosystems and environment is determined by the health of the inhabitants, so too is the health of the college campus. Student protest supplies a visible warning sign that something has gone awry. It provides the clues needed to start addressing the problems that students themselves face, as well as the larger problems that we as a society face. Getting rid of pesky student protestors doesn’t get rid of the problems we face in universities; it merely covers them up with a veil. Student protest seeks to pull back that veil and expose what they experience and knowS to be true, those who want to keep it in place have much to lose. Hegemony creates the common sense notion that college is the key to Fsuccess and we shouldn’t question anything about the structures of the institution. It’s a privilege for students to have the opportunity toO attend and any act of resistance is labeled as deviant and those students are deemed ungrateful. Wherever there is great effort to silence, thereO is great fear of what may be heard. The places where people are most ready to silence3 voices are the very places we need to pay most attentionR to these voices! Silence often speaks the loudest and if we Phave learned anything 1from history, the vic- tors always seek to silence the opponent, typically0 to protect themselves. History haunts us,P both comforting and2 tormenting us all at the same time. We become nostalgic of a time in the past that never really was, and we often forgetA the atrocities, particularly if we were privileged enough not to suffer.I The past continues© to haunt us and I could write a nice, neat little essay about the great ideas Schwab brought to bear on the curriculum field and scholars and aspiring scholars may read it and feel satisfied. But all that would do is privilege Schwab’s voice—a White, male, upper class, heterosexual voice over the voices of students who were resisting the madness that surrounded them and who refused to remain silent about the things that mattered most. I want to suggest that we use Schwab as an example of someone who has written in order to silence, as someone who has written in the name of progress, but has merely kept the dominant voice in tact. He is someone who believes he knows what one might mean by the greater good. But how can he or any other curriculum theorist who refuses to listen to the multitude of voices that exist and have power in a democracy really determine the greater good? Student protest is one manifestation of democracy and when 176 R. RADINA we seek to silence the voices of student protestors we are seeking to take away their power to participate in democracy. Racism, sexism, and homophobia are inherent in the structures of our institutions. If we don’t resist them, we only fall prey to hegemony and become completely complicit, forgetting the history that has brought us to this place and time. After all, activism is “the journey rather than the arrival” (Boggs, 2011, p. 48) and students need to be supported in their efforts to struggle for change. Once one becomes entrenched in the institution (i.e., the university) it is all too easy to become much more complicit within the system. We need student protest to point out new directions in which we need to move. Students often know what needs to be addressed; since they are experiencing it, let them lead the way instead of insisting they acquiesce and blend into a system that seeks to silence them.

The Importance of Protest and Resistance S Student protest is not an attack on intellectualism orF the notion that universities provide the space to transform society. Instead it is a push back against the dominant culture that tries to holdO onto the unearned power to decide what gets counted as knowledge and who can be deemed as a knower or knowledge producer. It shouldO come as no surprise that those in positions of power becomeR nervous when students’3 voices rise above the suffocating silence and refuse to play along; the dominant group, of course, is fearful theyP will lose their power.1 Even in the cases in which one may argue that there is no ill intent,0 as many may argue with the case of Schwab,P all subject positions 2create blind spots (particularly powerful and privileged positions) and so, of course, Schwab sees no need for students toA protest. Of course, he understands the problem as one of ignorance Ion the part of the students.© He doesn’t see a need to protest because no one is refusing to hear his voice, refusing to acknowledge his presence, or questioning his ability or values as a knowledge producer. I do not mean to suggest that all people in positions of power are either power hungry or ignorant; there are many that fight for justice even when their privilege does not force them to do so. Grace Lee Boggs (2011) describes the women’s movement as “turning anger into hope,” which serves as a reminder that anger can be used to motivate, but hope causes the actual movement—an action towards change (p. 40). Schwab’s notions of silencing student protest turn anger into docility and servitude, instead of hope that is followed by collective action towards change. Schwab hoped to welcome students into the collegiate community, instead of letting students create their own communities that might be powerful enough to create change. Boggs calls for a “rein- Student Protest 177 vention of revolution” and students are a necessary part of that reinven- tion (p. 47). Curriculum and pedagogy in the college classroom should not seek to silence the voice of student protest. Rather educators should help students move beyond protest and work with them to build community with one another to create social change both in and outside of the university. Curriculum should always teach students to question and imagine new possibilities that do not fall into the confines of learning objectives that have been put into place before students ever step foot into a classroom. We must also teach students to connect the mind and body in the process of learning. We must teach students to turn anger into hope and to transgress beyond the false boundaries that curriculum and pedagogy often create. In much of Schwab’s work he calls for a focus on practice over theory, which seems ironic given his stance on student protest. He suggests students should practice deliberation by participating in the already existing collegiate community. He refuses to see student protest as participatingS in community, when one might argue that it is this typeF of experiential learning and practice that can facilitate system change and individual student growth. Pinar et. al (2004) suggest that SchwabO played a pivotal role in the reconceptualization of the curriculum field: “who was this man whose single essay set in motion the collapseO of the traditional paradigm and helped establish the contoursR of the new one?” (p.3 193) Perhaps Schwab articulated the current wave of curriculum movement and did not actually create the wave himself.P I do not mean to 1suggest that his work wasn’t important or didn’t have an impact on 0the curriculum field; I am just skeptical of the Pmagnitude of the impact.2 Indeed the curriculum field went through a transformation after his essay, but Schwab was not writing in a vacuum,I Aa lone scholar tasked with saving the curriculum field by breathing life into an already dead© and decaying discipline. Similarly, curriculum in the classroom does not exist in a vacuum and student experience and knowledge acquisition does not start and begin when they step through the classroom door. Students are impacted by the lived curriculum from the day they are born and continue to be exposed to and changed by the lived curriculum until the day they die (Marsh & Willis, 2007, as cited in Poetter, 2011). Student protest and the events that led students to resist were also part of the curriculum in the 1960s, a part of the curriculum Schwab chose to dismiss as immature and uninformed. Perhaps we should question the legitimacy of scholars to proclaim the death of an entire field as well as the insignificance of something as important as student protest. Foucault (1983) said, the 178 R. RADINA

point is not that everything is bad, but that everything is dangerous, which is not exactly the same as bad. If everything is dangerous, then we always have something to do. So my position leads not to apathy but to a hyper- and pessimistic activism. (pp. 231-232)

Many scholars, Schwab included, seem to be content to work within the system, which in some ways seems to be a very good strategy, but it is also dangerous when we refuse to question and be critical of our institutions. It is important to keep in mind that the “dynamic of the pedagogy of silence is the way that hegemony seeks to silence opposition, to silence those it dominates” (Talbert, 2011, p. 209). Whenever a movement is making progress, there will be much effort by those with the most power to silence it. The civil rights and the feminist movements both had a lasting impact on education, in higher education, as well as K-12. These “small but powerful revolutions in education” (hooks, 2010, p. 23) could not have taken place if activists had merely decided to work within instead of against the structures that were put in place to maintain and perpetuate White,S male hegemony. These movements not only created space Ffor students in higher education, they also created space for women and people of color to enter fields of study, both as students and professors,O that were once dominated by White males (hooks, 2010). Activism, resistance, and solidarity created space for me and for many Oof my colleagues in Miami Uni- versity’s Educational Leadership Department; in order3 to agree with Schwab we would have to agree thatR we don’t belong here. As previously stated, activism and protest areP symptoms of larger 1problems and silencing resistance only maintains systems that encourage0 domination and oppression. We must take heed to the wise words of bell hooks (2010) “liberation is an ongoingP process” so we must2 continue to struggle even when we make gainsA (p. 26). Refusing to see the necessity of dissident voices on college campusesI is not the solution;© instead, “we must pursue all opportunities to decolonize our minds and the minds of our students” (p. 28). Student protest and resistance must be part of the equation. I believe in the transformative power of revolutionary praxis (naïve or not) and I argue for an ethics that refuses to create docile bodies within a system that is broken. We can always work within the system while trying to implement radical, transformative ideas. History does not determine our future—so let’s fight while we still have the space to do so. To quote Paulo Freire (1970), “this struggle is possible only because dehumanization, although a concrete historical fact, is not a given destiny but the result of an unjust order that engenders violence in the oppressors, which in turn dehumanizes the oppressed” (p. 44). Schools should be used to transform society and schools cannot do this alone. I would argue that our educational institutions must be used to include the voices of all students and provide them Student Protest 179 with the tools necessary to fight the oppression that is rampant within our institutions. If we refuse to name and fight oppression within our educational institutions, then we are silencing resistance that may lead to positive social change and refusing to stand on the side of justice. The curriculum window that Schwab hammered down with his unearned privilege and authority, afforded by a patriarchal, White supremacist society, sought to forever trivialize and silence student protest. However, I am suggesting that as educators we conceptualize student protest, resistance, and solidarity as valuable parts of the lived curriculum and as a means to transform society. This is a window we must open, and do more than gaze through, but break through, shattering the vestiges of tradition and control that have historically sought to silence any resistance to the status quo. Stu- dents should be conceptualized as knowledgeable, powerful change agents instead of as ignorant, powerless subordinates. Educators have a shared responsibility to ensure our youth have the ability to participate in society as democratic citizens, enlivened by the power of resistance to createS meaningful social change. This type of resistance and social struggle is a necessary act of love that we cannot afford to dismiss. OF REFERENCESO Boggs, G. L. (2011). The next American revolution: Sustainable activism for the twenty- first century. Berkeley, CA: UniversityR of California Press. 3 Flacks, R. (1971). Youth and social change. Chicago, IL: Markham. Foucault, M. (1983). On the genealogyP of ethics: An overview1 of work in progress. In H. Dreyfus, P. Rabinow, & M. Foucault (Eds), 0Beyond structuralism and herme- neutics (2nd ed., pp. 231-232). Chicago, IL: The University of Chicago Press. Fraser, N. (1997). JusticeP interruptus: Critical reflections2 on the “postsocialist” condition. New York, ANY: Routledge. Freire, P. (1970).I Pedagogy of the oppressed.© New York, NY: Continuum. hooks, b. (1989). Talking back: Thinking feminist, thinking black. Boston, MA: South End Press. hooks, b. (2010). Teaching critical thinking: Practical wisdom. New York, NY: Rout- ledge. Pinar, W., Reynolds, W., Slattery, P., & Taubman, P. (2004). Understanding and curriculum. New York, NY: Peter Lang. Poetter, T. (2011). Beginning thoughts. In T. Poetter et al.’s (Eds.), 10 great curricula: Lived conversations of progressive, democratic curricula in school and society. Charlotte, NC: Information Age Publishing. Schwab, J. (1969). College and curriculum and student protest. Chicago, IL: The Uni- versity of Chicago Press. Talbert, K. (2011). Freedom Summer 1964: Truth, reconciliation and justice. In T. Poetter et al.’s (Eds.), 10 great curricula: Lived conversations of progressive, democratic curricula in school and society. Charlotte, NC: Information Age Publishing. 180 R. RADINA

Tokarczyk, M., & Fay, E. (1993). Working-class women in the academy: Laborers in the knowledge Factory. Amherst, MA: The University of Massachusetts Press. Young, I. M. (2011). Responsibility for Justice. New York, NY: Oxford University Press.

FS OO PR 13 P 20 IA © CHAPTER 11

HILDA TABA—CURRICULUM PIONEER AND ARCHITECT

S. SMITH Susan Smith S OF In only my second semester (and second class) of my doctoral work, I have often felt intimidated. Spending 60O hours per week, sometimes more, as an assistant principal at a high school, I decided I needed a new challenge, and I was thrilled to beR accepted into an educational3 leadership doctoral program at Miami University, where1 I had studied as an undergraduate student. When P I registered for curriculum, pedagogy, and diversity, I had no idea what to expect. When I0 learned we would be writing a book chapter, PI again experienced feeling2 intimidated. As I looked around the room, and as I got to know the students in the class who all come fromI differentA backgrounds, and who spend time each day working differently than I do, my feeling© did not subside. When it came time to select the books we would study, I was unfamiliar with ninety per cent of the authors from which we could choose. I watched as others in this class began to talk to each other about an author they already knew and about whom they would want to write. When Dr. Poetter explained he had read almost all of the books we would use for this project, I was impressed, and again, intimidated. He described each book and author that would be part of the project and passed them around the room to all of the students. Some were passed quickly to the next recipi-

Curriculum Windows: What Curriculum Theorists of the 1960s Can Teach Us About Schools and Society Today, pp. 181–191 Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved. 181 182 S. SMITH ent while some were pored over and discussed quietly among the students. I wrote notes feverishly about each one because I had little background knowledge and knew we would have to soon decide our fate with this project. Then, he passed out an index card to each of us, and asked us to write our top three choices. When I looked back through my notes, I had written only one word next to Hilda Taba’s name and book title—woman. I put down my first two choices, and decided, being the feminist that I am, that I should also include Taba in my choices. The following week, when the books were assigned, and Dr. Poetter e-mailed me that he wanted me to tackle Taba, I had no idea what I had done. The book was given to me, and even the cover of the book and its title seemed bland compared to the ones the other students know held in their hands. And, as I looked at the faces of my colleagues, it appeared, they looked back at me with sympathy. Even Dr. Poetter wished me luck as I would embark on the adventure of getting through this thick, intense and seemingly inaccessible text. S I started as any student would—at the beginning. I used Post-It notes, and got through about a third of the book before I stoppedF myself. I thought back to the word I had written in my notes—woman; I realized I should not have started by diving into this massiveO pool of text, but instead with learning about Hilda Taba as a woman. Finding out about her as a person propelled me through theO final 200 pages of her book; her life was interesting, and the obstaclesR she faced and3 overcame were inspiring to me. Though I cannot compare my short 4-hour trek from my home town in Michigan to Oxford,P Ohio, to the pioneer1 Taba was, my journey eventually would lead me to study a very0 interesting woman, and to remind me to notP judge a book by its cover.2 And, to not be intimidated. Many curriculum specialists have been labeled as pioneers in the field, but most oftenA do not travel across the sea seeking curriculum work. Hilda TabaI left her home in Estonia© after graduating from the University of Tartu in 1926 with a grant from the Rockefeller Foundation; her country had recently gained independence from Russia. Seeking independence herself, she left her homeland and came to America where she earned a master’s degree from Bryn Mawr College in 1927, and a PhD from Columbia University in 1932. Taba was influenced heavily in her work after reading Boyd Bode’s Fundamentals of Education, and she grew interested in the child-centered approach and the flexibility of the progressive movement in education (Krull, 2003). With these feelings toward progressivism, it is not surprising that Taba was most affected by John Dewey. She attended his lectures, studied his work, and eventually, Wil- liam H. Kilpatrick, one of Dewey’s colleagues, became the principle advi- sor of her doctoral work. Kilpatrick found Taba to be very capable, and knew her dissertation would influence educators and scholars for years to Hilda Taba—Curriculum Pioneer and Architect 183 come (Krull, 2003). Living in the afterglow of a completed doctorate and the success of her studies, she wanted to return to Estonia to implement her new-found knowledge at the university from which she had graduated. A professorship position was open at the University of Tartu, and Taba wanted to bring progressive thoughts to her alma mater. However, she was not chosen for the position, and experienced extreme disappointment (Hergesheimer, 2004). It is believed that she was not awarded the position because she was a woman, and this only fueled her anger (Crocco & Davis, 2002). But, she was not intimidated by the chauvinism. Taba accepted a position at a college of economics in Estonia, but her heart was not in it, and the curriculum pioneer once again returned to the United States to fill the void she was experiencing by not being able to apply the knowledge she had obtained through her studies in her homeland. But, with this journey, she had less optimism; upon her arrival, she was not able to find employment that met her qualifications. Taba instead had to accept jobs coaching and tutoring wealthy American families,S and ever-present was the threat that she would be deported because she had not yet acquired citizenship (Krull, 2003). Taba fought againstF sexism and for democracy in her personal and professional lives, and she forged ahead with her aspirations as a pioneer. O Taba finally landed a position with which she was satisfied as a German teacher and later, the curriculum director,O at the Dalton School; she became involved in educational researchR by chance, as she3 was hired as the Eight-Year Study was beginning. The Dalton1 School was heavily involved in this now well-knownP study, and this was the beginning of her professional relationship with Ralph Tyler. Tyler0 was impressed by Taba’s dedication to the fieldP of scientific research2 and her deep understanding of the processes in education (Krull, 2003), so he hired her to join the evaluation teamA at the Ohio State University as the social studies curriculum coordinator.I The staff was then© moved to the University of Chicago, and Taba was named the director of the curriculum laboratory, which she headed until 1945. Ironically, after her return to the United States, the intellectual leadership of Estonia was “eliminated” after the Soviet takeover of Estonia in 1940 (Hergesheimer, 2004). Had she stayed, she would not have been able to utilize her talents in the field of curriculum theory. Some say that her ability to take risks and persevere as a pioneer of democracy saved her life (Hergesheimer, 2004). Elizabeth Brady, who was one of Taba’s colleagues from 1945-1951, wrote,

Taba was very energetic, enthusiastic, active, seemingly tireless; she led life at a tempo which sometimes led to misunderstandings and often wore out friends and staff. She was small in stature, perky in manners and in dress…. 184 S. SMITH

There was that sense that she was always intent on the next destination. (Brady, 1992, p. 60)

Luckily, her final destination was our country; her work contributed a great deal to the curriculum foundations built in America in the 1960s. And, as I read through this maybe somewhat downplayed work of art, I picture this curriculum pioneer looking through the window of the boat she most likely traveled in to her new land of personal and professional democracy.

Taba as Curriculum Architect

In education, many practitioners view the curriculum as a “blueprint” of what is to be studied. When I learned that Taba was described as an architect and as I read Curriculum Development Theory and PracticeS (Taba, 1962), that made sense. I could imagine Taba writing her book methodically—planning each word carefully as she composed thisF very dense text. Architects work diligently to plan their projects; they begin with dimen- sions and ideas, and they transform these to blueprintsO for those in construction to follow. I see Taba anticipating her book would be the blueprint that theorists and practitionersO could reference and use when creating curriculum. And, in each building, each architectural3 creation, there has to be windows. There mustR be a way for those within the building to look out, and for thoseP outside to look within 1what the architect has created. When Taba wrote this later well-known0 text, she was writing through the lens of her work with Ralph Tyler and the Tyler Rationale; she saw curriculum Pdevelopment through2 a window of seven steps. The original sequenceA of these steps was developed by Tyler, but she used these as theI blueprint for her own© work. Both believed that curricula are designed so that students may learn; to develop curricula differently is a disservice to the field (Taba, 1962). As I describe the seven steps Taba elu- cidates in her book, I will explain that what Taba built has windows through which we can view curriculum and practice today as well.

Step 1: Diagnosis of Needs

The diagnosis involved in curriculum development, according to Taba, would center on the thought that there is a need to accommodate different types of learners, to introduce new content, and to emphasis different aspects through learning (Taba, 1962, p. 231). Taba explains that we can not determine students’ needs nor what content we should teach without Hilda Taba—Curriculum Pioneer and Architect 185

“diagnostic checks.” These checks determine a diagnosis of achievement, and without these checks we would be overreaching on the curriculum or underestimating and re-teaching what students already know. Taba likens this to closing the gap of what students know and what we need to teach them. This is quite similar to what is asked of teachers and instructional specialists when developing curriculum and determining what to teach. Much recent research and focus of practitioners is on the concept of formative assessments and formative instructional practices. As teachers, they are asked to determine where their students are through assessments and then close the gap to what students should learn and be able to do. New teacher evaluation models are focusing on this notion as well; in some states, 50% of a teacher’s evaluation will be on value added or student growth measured by standardized test scores. The measurements that will be used are assessments normed by states and the nation. Teach- ers will be held accountable for “closing the gap” for their students. Second, Taba (1962) wrote that educators should diagnose Swhere students are as learners in addition to achievement. For Taba, this included understanding students’ backgrounds, cultures, motivationalF patterns, how they learn socially, and what cultural capital they bring from home to the classroom. Taba actually writes, when consideringO learning to read, “the choice of content and the approach to learning depend on whether the students are largely slum dwellers or fromO the middle class” (p. 234). It is at points similar to this in theR book that the reader 3remembers that Taba is writing from the lens of the 1960s; the effect of the history of that period is evident in statementsP like this throughout1 her text. However, again, there is strong evidence of Taba creating0 a window to today’s society. Much has not changedP in terms of a2 socioeconomic gap that exists among students from low-income backgrounds and those of the middle- class students.A Though we would be hesitant to use a term “slum dweller,” we have not,I in 50 years, determined© how to bridge this gap between the “have’s” and the “have nots.” Taba also felt that it is essential for us to consider interpersonal relationships, the classroom climate, and group values when we diagnose curriculum needs. Today, as well, these three aspects of teaching continue to be important and studied. Finally, Taba (1962) expects that a diagnosis of curriculum problems must occur as the final part of this first step of curriculum development. She explains that in order for educators to determine what should be taught, we must formulate hypotheses, assemble data, and interpret them; she feels, too, that teachers should be involved in all parts of this process (p. 238). I will not digress into the debate that exists between scholars and researchers in terms of their involvement in research and curriculum; however, I will applaud Taba for recognizing that teachers should be researchers for their own classrooms and of their own students. 186 S. SMITH

Step 2: Formulation of Objectives

Taba (1962) found that the function of objectives was twofold—on the one hand, school-wide outcomes and on the other hand, more specific objectives that describe behaviors to be obtained in a certain unit, subject area, course or program (p. 196). The primary function of the latter type of objective would be what would guide decisions on what to “cover” or to “emphasize” in a curriculum. Objectives, according to Taba, also serve to provide a common, consistent focus for the activities included in a curriculum as well as a guide for the evaluation of achievement (as discussed in Step 1). Taba stated that objectives should describe the kind of behavior expected, and the content to which the behavior applies if one is attempting to create clear objectives. She elaborated by stating, “objectives are developmental, representing the roads to travel rather than terminal points” (p. 203). Teachers, in her opinion, would use the objectives as a blueprint of sorts, then, as a guide to what they are buildingS with their students. F And, again, this building would have a window—through which one could see today’s use of objectives. What objectivesO meant to the theorists of the 1960s is similar to how today’s educators view creating objectives. I feel as if teachers use objectives, often dictatedO by their district and their state departments of education, as guidelines for what they will teach and what they hope students will learn.R Teachers, though, cannot3 map out what some pedagogues term “teachable” or “Aha!”1 moments; these opportunities for learning occurP throughout the0 course of a well-planned lesson with excellent delivery. Either way, I am sure few would argue that the absence of objectivesP or standards would2 be intelligent in educational curriculum.IA © Step 3: Selection of Content

Another example of the historical context of Taba’s (1962) book is evident in her discussion of the selection of content. In this section, she mentions “new requirements for what constitutes literacy have also emerged” (p. 263) and that a recent “explosion of knowledge has made the classical simplicity of school subjects impossible.” She also explains that students need more knowledge of geography, and that “Since Sput- nik, priorities are being established by assigning more time to science, foreign languages, and mathematics … to develop more scientists and technicians” (p. 265); these new requirements, in my mind, reveal what was occurring nationally and the need to “keep up” with other countries Hilda Taba—Curriculum Pioneer and Architect 187 academically. This feeling of competition among the nations fueled much of the curriculum writing at this time. A caution that we should heed is that simply “covering” material does not mean learning will occur; she stresses depth over breadth. A mistake Taba (1962) exposes in this section of her book is that schools at this time were filling students’ minds with trivial and meaningless facts (p. 272). Both of these ideas ring true in education today; new sets of standards being adopted have fewer objectives, and the research states that a meaningful curriculum incorporates more in-depth learning on fewer topics or content areas. The pressure to contend with the academics and achievement of other countries is also still present. Society is bombarded with articles about America’s failing education system, and how we have dropped to near the bottom of reports on the intelligence of our students. Would Taba have seen this state of our education when she looked through her window? Another point worth mentioning that Taba (1962) makes inS describing how to select content is that the students need to be involved; they must be able to make the content their own (p. 283). In other Fwords, the learners need to be able to connect to the curriculum. If they are unable to do so, the content is meaningless in their world. TheO students must employ their own experiences and background knowledge to build upon when learning new material. This connects wellO with the philosophy of most educators today; finding ways to connectR the content to 3the lives of students is essential in modern classrooms. Taba appears to be forward- thinking when making theseP statements in regard 1to content selection, because we work towardP this goal when selecting20 content today as well. Step 4: OrganizationIA of Content© The roles of teachers and curriculum specialists are mentioned throughout Taba’s (1962) book. In this step, and the previous step, Taba states that teachers should not work alone. That teachers need an outside perspective when selecting and organizing content is her caution. And, in determining how to organize content, she criticizes what curriculum books at the time suggested. She states that using interests, experiences, life problems or content topics is ineffective. Instead, she encourages organizing content based on focus, and writes, that focusing the unit on core notions means student are the recipients of a more enriching scope of content development (p. 305). The term “depth not breadth” could be applied to her ideas on content development; she writes that trying to cover all elements of a content topic results in a reduction in learning. Rather, teaching fewer topics but teaching these topics at a deeper level 188 S. SMITH should be a teacher’s approach to developing content. Recently, the state of Ohio took the same approach with redesigning core content standards, and there are fewer topics, but more information included under each topic than in the previous set of standards. Taba would appreciate this redesign, though it has many teachers concerned about the changes. Additionally, Taba’s (1962) thoughts on organizing the content involve making certain that teachers understand that not all students learn the same way, and that it is our responsibility to provide a variety of instructional methods to our students (p. 307). The ideal approach, in her opinion, would be to have a balance of experiences and activities when organizing content. Some of the organization of content should consider the social aspects of the classroom as well. Learning activities should include reading, analyzing, researching, observing, writing, experimenting, manipulating, and finally (not surprising for a curriculum architect), constructing (p. 308). Further, Taba feels as if students also need time to absorb new material, and that teachers should account for timeS for students to reflect on new learning. In the windows that are built, we often see ourselves. FTaba creates this window not for others to look in, but for students to look within themselves, and to reflect on their learning. This is Oan important aspect of instruction today as well. Research shows that when students are involved and engaged in their own learning, growthO occurs. When anyone learns a new skill, she needs time to absorb Rand to reflect on what3 areas she needs work; this is true of students when responding to new content material. Taba knew that this must be consideredP when developing1 curriculum. P 20 Step 5: SelectionA of Learning Experiences Taba (1962)I states that selection© has always been a problem in curriculum development, and that there is never enough class time for all of the things students must learn (p. 263); and therein lies the dilemma. What to choose? Taba feels that educators “seem to be confused about the criteria” and that there has been an explosion of new knowledge that should be incorporated into curricula; equally troublesome is the fact that during the lesson, teachers must incorporate the improved technology of the 1960s (pp. 263-264). The issue of what should be selected for students to learn created many issues among the leading curriculum specialists at this time, and Taba challenges Gardner for stating that reading is more important than mathematics (p. 265). Again, she mentions Sputnik and “that competition with Russia requires that we develop more scientists and technicians” (p. 265). It appears as if the events of this decade dictated students’ learning experiences. Hilda Taba—Curriculum Pioneer and Architect 189

Taba (1962) also stresses in this section of her book that curriculum con- sists of two different things: content and learning experiences or in other words, how students retain new content. To summarize, Taba writes, “If curriculum is a plan for learning, and if objectives determine what learning is important, then it follows that that adequate curriculum planning involves selecting and organizing both content and learning experiences” (p. 266). Important to note as well, Taba includes a side note to this sentence asking the reader to refer to the work of her colleague Ralph Tyler. Looking toward the “unpredictable future” is another piece of advice Taba (1962) provided for readers, and she also gave a caveat that we should be prepared for what could lie ahead; she felt as if the curriculum at the time focused too much on “lessons of history” (p. 275); we need our students to be prepared for problem solving, adapting to new situations for critical thinking, and utilizing inquiry skills. As I read her book, I felt as if I was looking through a window of the 1960s to today; so much educational literature and media involve preparing students for 21stS century learning skills. These skills are not far from what Taba wanted 1960s educators to expect from students. F Another criticism Taba (1962) includes in this section is her feeling that the curriculum during the 1960s was ethnocentricO and based on Western culture, and she cautions that we need to have a knowledge of other cultures outside of our own – a “cosmopolitanO orientation” (p. 273). This critique may be rooted in her ethnicity, and being an immigrant,3 or her work in the area of social studies. RFrom wherever these thoughts origi- nate, we have not come that farP in the past 50 years.1 Much of the curriculum today focuses little on worldly cultures0 and a sense of global awareness or unification.AP 2 Step 6: OrganizationI of Learning© Experiences Once learning experiences are selected, they must be organized before instruction can occur. Taba’s (1962) statement regarding this organization process is interesting; she again feels as if there is a dualism that exists in this part of the process. One must organize the content and the learning experiences, and she writes that a typical curriculum lists the subject, topics, and the sequence teachers should use for these topics. She takes issue with the fact that usually “only an unorganized list of learning activities at most is offered” (p. 291) from which teachers choose when lesson planning. Most notable in this section of her writing is Taba’s (1962) forward- thinking stating that students’ needs are important when we organize what they will learn. She provides a window to what is today termed differentiated instruction. A balanced variety of learning techniques makes 190 S. SMITH flexibility possible when working with heterogeneous groups, and teaching to the most able students leaves others behind, while teaching to the “less able” provides no challenge for the more able students. Taba’s proposal is that we “design methods of learning according to differences in needs, level of comprehension, or ability” (p. 309). This approach is used today in classrooms nationwide; teachers strive to meet students where they are, and to help them grow academically.

Step 7: Determining of What to Evaluate and of the Ways and Means of Doing It

In the final step of curriculum development, Taba (1962) finally mentions the role of parents in education. She begins by stating that teachers use evaluations to assess progress toward the objectives while students should “make judgements” about what they have learned. Then,S parents should evaluate their children and whether or not they feel their students have learned the material (p. 311). Evaluations, to Taba,F were not just pencil-and-paper-write-in-a-blue-book types of tests; she takes a broader approach in her definition of evaluation. She feelsO that clarifying the objectives to describe student behaviors, developing a variety of ways to evaluate students, summarizing the evaluationsO or evidence, and using the information gained from theseR assessments are all in3 the evaluation process (p. 313). These steps, she believed, were essential to curriculum developing. Evaluation, in Pfact, was the blueprint.1 Without analyzing where students start, and what they achieve throughout0 a certain period of time, and then adjusting their instruction2 based on what is learned is teaching blindly in herP mind. Taba (1962)A also writes that there are three types of tests: standardized tests, non-standardizedI tests, and© informal devices. And, that overuse of one of these three will result in poor student data (p. 329). Were Taba to look through the window of today’s talk on assessments, she would see many similarities. Today, teachers are expected to utilize a variety of assessments—both formal and informal. They are to “assess for learning” if they are keeping up with that trend. They are to “use student data to inform instruction” and they are to focus on a new educational acronym (as if another is needed) FIP (Formative instructional practices). So much research and so much emphasis is placed on the assessment of students; it is a billion dollar industry. If Taba were alive to see countless companies vie for school funding that does not exist with the false hope that their product will improve scores or close achievement gaps, she would laugh. She wrote about the same concepts with less flashy terms 50 years ago. Hilda Taba—Curriculum Pioneer and Architect 191

When Taba (1962) traveled across seas to America and forged her way through the world of curriculum development and theory, she helped to build a foundation of progressivism through the creation of a blueprint. In her preface, she proclaims that the book was 20 years in the making. But, she didn’t know that what she wrote would transcend 70 years. She didn’t know how many would look through the window she built to shape their own research and to transform education. And, Willard B. Spaulding, who wrote the foreword, stated that Dr. Taba felt that “curriculum development is sterile if it does not encompass change in classroom practices” (p. viii). But, how much has changed in schools from when this pioneer, and the hundreds of others with whom she studied, blazed the trail for us? Considering the blueprint Taba constructed through her research, and the foundation her and her colleagues built nearly 70 years ago, they would be shamed that we have not yet opened the “curriculum window” as they would have wanted. We are standing in front of the windowS Taba included in her blueprint, but we refuse to open it. We continue to create curriculum that does not challenge our students beyond Fwhat is included in textbooks, and then we pressure them to perform on high-stakes tests of the pencil-and-paper variety. No critical thinkingO or problem-solving skills are assessed on these tests, and there is no opportunity for students to think globally. Students have surpassedO teachers when it comes to utilizing technology for learning, and with a lack of educational funding, this will only worsen. All that TabaR felt was important to 3curriculum and learning is essential to today’sP students as well, but we1 are staring through a closed window unsureP how to open it. 20 IA REFERENCES© Brady, E. (1996). Hilda Taba: The congruity of professing and doing. In C. Kridel, R. B. Bullough, Jr., & P. Shaker’s (Eds.), Teachers and mentors: Profiles of distinguished 20th century professors of education (pp. 59-70). New York, NY: Garland. Crocco., M., & Davis, O. L. (2002). Building a legacy: Women in social education, 1787-1984. Silver Spring, Maryland: National Council for the Social Studies. Hergesheimer, J. (2004). Who was Hilda Taba? University of California Santa Bar- bara Sunburst. Retrieved from http://education.ucsb.edu/webdata/instruction/ Krull, E. (2003). Hilda Taba. Prospects. UNESCO, International Bureau of Education, XXXIII(4). Retrieved from http://www.ibe.unesco.org/publications/ ThinkersPdf/tabae.pdf Taba, H. (1962). Curriculum development: Theory and practice. New York, NY: Har- court, Brace & World.

CHAPTER 12

EXPLORING TEACHING AS A SUBVERSIVE ACTIVITY

R GAMM Ryan Gamm S OF Introduction O On a crisp fall morning ripe with the smell of diesel exhaust, a young man waits impatiently at the frontR of the line, fishing net3 in one hand, toolbox in the other; he can’t get onto the school bus1 fast enough. Today is the day he has been waiting P for. Today is the day he gets to escape the monotony of the usual school routine. No more0 listening to teachers and being called on to giveP the answers they want2 to hear. No more tests, quizzes, vocabulary lists, chapter questions, or any other seemingly irrelevant puzzles to Isolve.A He struggles in school because traditional schoolwork couldn’t capture his attention, it© just doesn’t make sense to him. Today is the day to go out into the real world and do real work. Today the class is heading to the local river with one task at hand; to answer the question, is the local river’s ecosystem healthy? To accomplish this task, the class members will be getting their hands dirty making observations, gathering data, making initial analyses, and collaborating to assess a real problem in the community. After spending a beautiful October day outside in the sun, the area seemed pristine. How- ever, the evidence gathered by the class exposed that the river was any-

Curriculum Windows: What Curriculum Theorists of the 1960s Can Teach Us About Schools and Society Today, pp. 193–209 Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved. 193 194 R GAMM thing but healthy. The ecosystem was undoubtedly compromised, but the class could not explain how this was happening. Intrigued by the findings and inspired by the students’ curiosity, Mrs. Woodall spent the following days with students critically analyzing the data and researching the sources of local pollution. Eventually they gathered enough evidence to make the case that a local factory producing paper bags in combination with runoff from a nearby dam, were artificially raising water tempera- ture, literally suffocating the fish population. Some time later the class submitted its report to the community officials who determined that the flow rates of the dam could be altered to lower water temperatures allowing fish to return to the river and the health of the ecosystem to return. I did not become a science teacher by accident; I played the role of the young man in the story throughout my school career. In fact, in this true story, for the first time I was deeply engaged in my own learning and found genuine and intrinsic satisfaction in schoolwork. It was a transformative experience as a student and as a citizen. Until then I hadS struggled as a student, barely passing most of my classes. By engagingF in hands on learning, which I perceived as relevant, I discovered that I was a capable learner and could be successful in formal schooling.O Additionally, I felt the responsibility to be cautious about the environment and how my actions—and the actions of others—could Ohave either positive or negative ramifications in the surrounding world. This experience was empowering and embedded a kind of social responsibilityR in me, which3 has only grown since. 1 A decade later during my Pstudent teaching 0placement my cooperating teacher and I engaged our seventh grade science students in an almost identical field trip. AsP part of a larger environmental2 science unit, we used a hands-on fieldA trip experience as a means connecting a larger project designed toI help our students to© better understand natural phenomena, grounding it in a critical understanding of how our actions affect the world around us. We used pedagogical methods that embraced individual learning styles of each student, promoting a democratic and equitable classroom. Students engaged in an inquiry-oriented, problem-based experience set in their own community, which culminated in a critical analysis of human activity and its effects on the environment. The ecology project is the source of my inspiration to become an educator. I want to engage my students in critical knowledge for the greater good while at the same time empowering them as learners through genuine, relevant, and experiential learning. When introduced to the curriculum windows project, Teaching as a Subversive activity was a natural choice for me. Its current relevance could shed light on our teaching practices today. It can illuminate the transformative possibilities within education Exploring Teaching as a Subversive Activity 195 and serve as a window through which we can see our own practices today and their potential to change society.

The Book: Teaching as a Subversive Activity

Neil Postman and Charles Weingartner’s 1969 manifesto Teaching as a Subversive Activity was both influential and radical in deconstructing traditional concepts of education. Teaching as a Subversive Activity is based on two assumptions. That “(a) in general, the survival of our society is threatened by an increasing number of unprecedented and, to date, insoluble problems; and (b) that something can be done to improve the situation” (Post- man & Weingartner, 1969, p. i). According to the authors, one of these is indisputable and the other is highly questionable. They assert; “If you do not know which of these is indisputable and which is questionable, you have just finished reading this book”(Postman & Weingartner, 1969S p. ii). The problems presented include mental illness, crime, suicide, “dam- aged” or abused children, and misinformation known asF the “credibility gap.” These problems are all either related to or affected by the communications revolution, which according to the authorsO occurred post-World War II to the date of the book’s publication in 1969. This revolution in speed and availability of communication Oignited other problems including the civil rights and gender revolutions,R electronic bugging,3 bringing visibility to the sex problem, drug problem, and a plethora of other problems accredited to the populationP boom following World1 War II. Accord- ing to Postman and Weingartner (1969), what 0all of these problems have in common is that theyP are all related to2 progress. Progress is the paradox: while simultaneously solving some of society’s problems, others are generated. ForA instance, in 1969 America was struggling with “the Bomb” problem, theI Vietnam problem,© the Red China problem, the Middle East problem, the environmental problem, and many others, all resulting from progress. To answer the question, “What, if anything, can we do about these problems?” is exactly what Teaching as a Subversive Activity is about. Post- man and Weingartner (1969) propose to use education as the medium to solve some of the aforementioned problems. Since school is “inflicted” on everyone, and until this point, since school has done little if anything to address the deep problems of society—according to the authors—to enhance our chances at mutual survival, perhaps schooling can be repur- posed to do just that:

It is the thesis of this book that change—constant, accelerating, ubiquitous— is the most striking characteristic of the world we live in and that our 196 R GAMM

educational system has not yet recognized this fact. We maintain, further, that the abilities and attitudes required to deal adequately with change are those of the highest priority and that it is not beyond our ingenuity to design school environments, which can help young people to master concepts necessary to survival in a rapidly changing environment world. (p. xiii)

They suggest that, “the current education system is not viable and is certainly not capable of generating the energy to lead to its own revitalization. What is needed is a type of shock therapy with stimulation supplied by other living sources” (p. xv). In 2012, these problems all have another thing in common: they are analogous to present-day problems, many of which are either related to or affected by the communications explosion that has taken place since the 1990s. The way that humans communicate, and the speed at which communication takes place, has been revolutionized in ways similar to a quarter century prior to the publishing of Teaching as a Subversive Activity. The structure and function of schools have changed to reflectS education policies such the reauthorization of the ElementaryF and Secondary Education Act in 2001, commonly known as No Child Left Behind, Race to the Top, and the adoption of the new CommonO Core Standards; all of them in practice are narrowing the curriculum and placing a greater value on student performance as defined Oby standardized tests. Students are trained for job skills and rewarded for complacency. Our schools, the primary mechanism we have as a societyR for transforming3 and empowering our youth to be democraticP citizens, have been relegated1 to the role of preparation for work, with teachers playing the0 role of deskilled technicians of knowledge transference. All hope is not lost,P though; there are2 still pockets of resistance and means to workA simultaneously within, for, and against the system. A closer look at theI ideas presented by© Postman and Weingartner in 1969 will show that they have found their way into many of our teaching practices today. A further examination of their work will help illuminate the spaces teachers have to maneuver in today, in terms of transforming teaching into a subversive activity. The authors make no attempt to be polite or prudent, but rather present a no holds barred deconstruction of how they believe society functions when we do not treat schooling as scarred. It then should come as no surprise that the first chapter is titled:

Crap Detecting

One of the tenets of democratic society is the freedom of speech and expression, even if those ideas expressed explicitly undermine this very Exploring Teaching as a Subversive Activity 197 freedom. With the understanding that our schools are instruments of society, one of its purposes is to foster an understanding of this freedom in students as well as to help them gain the necessary intellectual skills to exercise it. This must take place so that society can continue to transform itself to be better suited to deal with present and future threats, problems, and opportunities. The problem is that our schools reinforce a system of stratification, nonparticipation, and silence. Postman and Weingartner (1969) present an alternative purpose of schooling: “schools must serve as the principle medium for developing in youth the attitudes and skills of social, political, and cultural criticism” (p. 2). In order for our students to be able to do this with fidelity, they must become experts in “crap detecting,” thus moving past the reverence of what is taken for granted as common knowledge or accepting the status quo. In order to do so, schools must develop a perspective that allows students to be part of their own culture while at the same time to take positions outside of it. It is not that we canS be free of our own prejudices, but we should not be completely captivated by them, either. F Postman and Weingartner (1969) suggest that of all the problems faced in the world, there are three in particular that urgentlyO call for this perspective and that are still problematic today. The first is the communication revolution that has taken place sinceO World War II. Communication and the technology that facilitates itR reconstruct a completely3 new environment requiring a new set of survival strategies. This was as true in 1969 as it is in 2013. The communicationsP revolution naturally1 led to an increase in media as well as a decrease in democratic “channels”0 as the new media was primarily one-way, top-down.P In the communications2 revolution it became possible to receive more media while being exposed to fewer ideas. This leads to the secondA problem, a “Change Revolution,” the communications revolution Itook place in a world© changing at an exponential pace. The unpredictability of a changing world has become the norm, so that the only stability and predictability are that change will persist. Any institution, idea, or belief that has existed will indefinitely evolve or become irrelevant. This then leads to the third problem of the “burgeoning bureaucracy.” Although seemingly necessary, bureaucracies are by nature resistant to change. Postman and Weingartner argue that school must serve as a “anti- bureaucracy” in order to provide the youth of society with a “What is it good for?” perspective, reflexively, on their own society. The only ones with the power to provoke such a revolution in response to these problems are schoolteachers. The technology revolution demands that students have the skills to navigate a rapidly morphing world; however, their teachers are teaching “subjects” that are themselves nearly extinct for a bureaucratic institution that is by nature resistant to 198 R GAMM ubiquitous change. If teachers do not find a way to change the “business” of schools, what is at stake is nothing short of our potential for mutual survival.

The Medium is the Message, of Course

Humans are products of their environments, and students are a product of the classrooms they are placed in. The most significant impressions made on the human nervous system are a result of the controls of their environment and the attitudes and perceptions of those who occupy it. The classroom life that exists becomes what students respond to. If the environment is the medium, then the message is “the perceptions you are allowed to build, the attitudes you are enticed to assume, the sensitivities you are encouraged to develop, almost all of the things you learn to see, feel, and value. You learn them because your environment is organized inS such a way that it permits or encourages or insists that you learn them”F (Postman & Weingartnerp, 1969, p. 17). Armed with this metaphor, a different picture of the classroom or school can emerge. According toO the authors, almost all schools of education and teacher training institutions in the United States treat the content and method in different manners,O and that this separation is real and useful, and that they are unequal. The medium is the message “implies that the invention of a dichotomyR between content3 and method is both naïve and dangerous. It implies that the critical1 content of any learning experience is the method Por process through0 which the learning occurs” (p. 19). What students experience as a result of being in the classroom is the medium and what Pthey learn in the classrooms2 is the message of that medium. TheA way in which and where students learn, is what they learn. What studentsI traditionally do© in the classroom is submit to the desires of the teacher. That is, typically, to guess what the teacher wants them to say. Students are then preoccupied with a puzzle of figuring out the right answers and if they don’t, they fail. With an understanding that the structure of the classroom is what is being learned, we teach students merely to meet the demands of the classroom through the truths that are assigned, and rules of communication, and the praise of those that correctly play the game. As a result we are training our youth to be submissive and failing those who resist, who think independently, who ask relevant questions challenging the social order. Simply put: “asking questions is a behavior, if you don’t do it, you don’t learn it” (Postman & Weingartner, 1969, p. 24). Like Postman and Weingartner (1969) proposed nearly 40 years ago, we need a curriculum based on student questions. We must transform the medium to change the message. Exploring Teaching as a Subversive Activity 199

The Inquiry Method

If the medium is the message, there must begin a “grammar” for the new education proposed by Postman and Weingartner (1969). New classrooms must commence within a new framework, which they propose is the inquiry method. Part of the human condition and social construction of knowledge is the tendency to “dismiss an experience by expedience of naming it,” in other words, “label-libel” (p. 25). Once it can be labeled, it can be oversimplified and falsely understood. This is the method of the old curriculum, which is linear and sequential. For example, science is primarily taught as an understanding of the products of science; however, science is a process and must be learned by engaging in the scientific process. The process of asking questions and performing investigations to answer these questions often generates new understandings and questions, which could not have been predicted before the process began. The inquiry method is proposed because students in the newS age of the communications revolution are typically not linear thinkers,F and they are not sequential thinkers. The inquiry method is designed to reflect what happens when people are truly engaged in the processO of learning; it is a “delightful, fitful, episodic, explosive collage of simultaneous ‘happenings’” (p. 31). In order for studentsO to become a part of this process, they must become good learners.R They must be confident3 in their ability to learn and have faith in the approach they are taking to the problem they are solving, and enjoyP solving the problem.1 They must know what is relevant to their survival, and prefer to rely0 on their own judgment rather than being toldP what is good to know.2 Good learners are not fearful of being wrong; they are not emphatically fast answerers, instead they are flexible, theyI Ahave a high degree of respect for facts, and understand that these facts are tentative. And good© learners do not need to have a resolution to every problem. In this new inquiry environment the components of the classroom must be different. The teacher is not to provide answers or tell the students what they believe, but rather they should conduct discourses primarily through questioning, not accepting singular answers, and should rarely summarize the positions taken by students on the learning that occurs. Student-to-student interaction is encouraged, and lessons are developed and driven by the responses of students and are based on problems posed by students. Success is measured in terms of behavioral changes in students. The inquiry method requires a new definition of the role of the teacher in the classroom environment, with the student now at the center, and the pursuit of the learning process replacing the label as the goal. 200 R GAMM

Pursuing Relevance

The inquiry method redefines the roles of teacher-student in the classroom as well as the environment necessary for real learning to occur. With a new focus on the process of learning, the question now is to focus on what it is that we are trying to “teach” students. According to Postman and Wein- gartner (1969), it is “insane” both literally and metaphorically, “for a teacher to ‘teach’ something unless his students require it for some identi- fiable and important purpose” (p. 42). Learning must be related to the life of the learner, and what is at stake is nothing short of the learner’s skill and interest in learning. When the traditional curriculum is placed under this lens, what we see in our traditional subjects is “little else than a strategy for distraction … designed to keep students from knowing themselves and their environment in any realistic sense” (p. 47). Consequently, this does not allow for inquiry into most of the critical problems in the world outside of school. If the most critical elements of a learning environmentS are the learner, the teacher, the content, and the strategies for learning, then they each must complement and derive meaning from the other.F If students are to engage in real learning, then a new type of teacher is required and the problems studied must be perceived as relevant.OO What is Worth Knowing R 3 If the question becomes “WhatP drives the content1 in an inquiry environment?” then the next logical step is to ask the0 question, “What is worth knowing?” To answer,P teachers need to evaluate2 the approach, and not ask “Is it high or low?” but “Is it appropriate to your goals?” (Postman & Weingartner, A1969, p. 67) Postman and Weingartner (1969) suggest a curriculum basedI on questions that© are divergent and open-ended. These types of questions have the ability to further generate questions that the learner may not be aware of at first, in other words a “consciousness expansion” (p. 70). In this proposition, the art and science of asking questions becomes the source of all knowledge, and they are adequate when they are useful and relevant to the life of the learner.

Making Meaning

When we engage in an inquiry answering student questions, we open ourselves to the vulnerability of multiple meanings, and the learners own meanings that are derived from their perception must be respected. These perceptions are influenced by each student’s own experiences, Exploring Teaching as a Subversive Activity 201 needs, and affect how one interprets the world outside. Postman and Weingartner (1969) suggest the metaphor “meaning maker” for students because “it forces us to focus on the individuality and the uniqueness of the meaning maker. In most other metaphors there is an assumption of ‘sameness’ in all learners” (p. 91). With this new metaphor it can no longer be assumed that all learning will occur in the same way, and there is no end to learning because learners will never stop interacting with their environment and creating new meanings, new perceptions. This new product is a “student centered curriculum” where motivation is an intrinsic aspect of the scene and where the “subject matter” exists in concrete fashion in the minds of the learners.

Language Language must play a prominent role in inquiry because ofS the necessary questioning, defining, observing, classifying, generalizing, verifying, and theorizing that are inherent to this process. The studyF of any subject must be a study of language, because the connotations and denotations of simple words such as fact, meaning, history, subject,O generalization, and many more, all become distinct when one is interrogating different subject matter. What it means to “answer” a “question”O becomes a much more intricate process then simply determining if an “answer”3 is “right” or “wrong,” “true” or false,” “correct” Ror “incorrect,” “yes” or “no.” How one sees the world becomes newlyP important, and the act1 of learning changes from acquisition of presentedP “facts” to the2 skillful0 perceiving of change. New TeachersIA © Postman and Weingartner suggest that we construct a “new education” which will require a new type of teacher if the primary aim of schools is the facilitation of learning. In order to make this possible they suggest that we declare a 5-year moratorium on the use of textbooks; have teachers teach in a subject area and/or grade level outside of their own; dissolve “subjects” and course “requirements”; limit teachers to 3 declarative and 15 interrogative sentences per class; declare a moratorium on all test grades; require all teachers to undergo some form of psycho-therapy as part of their in-service training; make all classes elective; make teachers take tests prepared by students on what their student know. In order to prepare teachers for this type of education, teacher education programs will need to be developed in order to empower teachers to be inventors of new teaching strategies, rather than facilitators of broken 202 R GAMM ones. Administrators will need to change as well. Administrators are by definition part of the top-down bureaucracy of schooling, which is no longer viable in the new education. Administration will need to become a student responsibility if our schools are to function as democratic systems. Although they would be somewhat inefficient, democratic governance is still the best means for enhancing our prospects for mutual survival.

City Schools

City schools can be hostile places for young, disadvantaged students. When schools fail to meet the needs of these students, they are faced with the choice of submitting to the demands of the oppressive environment, dropping out, or being thrown out. These students do not disappear; they remain in the communities and compromise their integrity, eventually costing much more to address than adjusting the schools to Smeet their needs in the first place. Postman and Weingartner (1969) suggest viewing city Fschools as a process. Through this process the primary focus can be direct and immediate service to the community. By viewing the school curriculumO in such a way, previously unseen possibilities become evident. Students and staff serving as a “think tank” can immediately addressO community problems. By addressing community problems inR this fashion, the school3 curriculum is transformed from an irrelevant, oppressive problem into a structure that is inherently relevant and transformativeP for individual1 students and the greater community they serve. Schools can 0become important social- political instrumentsP for change rather 2than another confining space serving theI statusA quo. © New Languages, The Media

If the facilitation of learning is to be the goal of schools, with a hope of increasing our chances of mutual survival, the new media must play a vital role in schools. The communications revolution dramatically changed the world, and schools need to catch up with it. Schools must not only study new forms of content, they also must study the perceptual-cognitive effects of the new forms of language. Print is no longer the sole medium of the media, yet school teaches printed text as the primary source of literacy. Students must be prepared to digest information and communicate using the medium of the new languages, manifesting themselves in new technologies. The magnitude and ubiquity of the new media render attempts at relevant education inadequate unless they adopt the language of the new media. Exploring Teaching as a Subversive Activity 203

Two Alternatives

According to Postman and Weingartner (1969), “At one time or another (including the present), the ideas we have been proposing have been tried in one place or another, with almost all of the desirable results claimed for them being verified” (p. 175). The new education they propose would simply consist of having all of them tried all of the time every- where. Alternative one: we carry on business as usual with teachers at the center of the curriculum, as the stars of the show, with linear forms or learning to train our students to be complacent participants in top-down bureaucracies serving the status quo and lessening our chances for mutual survival. Alternative two: develop a student-centered curriculum that recognizes the existence of the real world and prepares our students to become active participants in democratic society allowing our schools to become transformative spaces that serve our students and our society. In order to achieve this not all we know needs to be jettisoned, butS simply a “methodological and psychological shift in emphasis Fin the roles of teacher and student, a fundamental change in the nature of the classroom environment” (p. 205). The rapid changes broughtO about by the communications revolution make this leap not just possible, but probable. Alter- native two reveals itself as the only realisticO approach, which renders almost all traditional concepts, and the institutions that support them, irrelevant. R 3 P 1 Subversive EducationP Today 20 My experienceA participating in the ecology field trip as a young student was engaging,I powerful, and transformative.© While this experience serves as a decisive moment in my life, it was not so unique to educational experiences I had later as a student teacher. Under the guidance of my cooperating teacher, I exposed hundred of students to a very similar activity, which also reflected the pillars of Postman and Weingartner’s new education: a curriculum that was relevant to student’s lives, inquiry-based, and fostered critical thinking. Our methods were not revolutionary; we simply applied best practices formed to fit our local setting and individual learners. During my first year of teaching, I was fresh out of university, full of ideas, and under the tutelage of a seasoned veteran of science education, this teaching experience was one of several similar learning opportunities we engaged our students in. The methods described by Postman and Weingartner in Teaching as a Subversive Activity are present in our teacher education training programs today, though they are underpracticed and undercultivated. 204 R GAMM

Schooling and school curriculum today are driven by policies like No Child Left Behind, Race to the Top, and the adoption of the new Com- mon Core Standards, which are narrowing the curriculum and placing a greater value on student performance as defined by standardized test scores. The purpose of schooling has shifted from generating democratic citizens to training students with job skills and rewarding them for complacency. Teachers have been relegated to the role of technicians and transmitters of knowledge. Our schools, the primary mechanism we have as a society for transforming and empowering our youth, are becoming ever confining and oppressive spaces. But despite the difficulties we face today there is still space to navigate, for teachers to adapt their existing practices, and for new teachers to transition from university ready to transform their students and schools. Teaching as a Subversive Activity allows us to see where these places exist in our own practices and how we can use education as a social-political exercise for equity and democracy. Working within our current educational environment of testingS and accountability presents many challenges. For instance, the reauthorization of the Elementary and Secondary School Act, more commonlyF known as No Child Left Behind, has placed pressure on teachers and students to perform on high stakes standardized tests, arguablyO taking time away from and engaging in deeper learning. It is the intention of this monitoring and assessment to draw attention to Ogroups who have been under- served by our current system and provide access to educational opportunities. The highlighting of Rstudents that we need3 to serve in better ways is then negated by theP means in which we serve1 them, primarily through preference of standardized test practices0 in reading and math skills rather than deeper learning focused on individual learning styles and abilities. As educatorsP we bare the responsibility2 to resist being relegated to the Arole of technician and tap into our professional abilities. According Ito Eisner (2002) we ©need to focus on serving the individual learner:

Each child we teach is wonderfully unique, and each requires us to use in our work that most exquisite of human capacities, the ability to make judg- ments in the absence of rules. Although good teaching uses routines, it is seldom routine. Good teaching depends on sensibility and imagination. It courts surprise. It profits from caring. In short, good teaching is an artistic affair. (p. 577)

To work within, for, and against the current education reforms will require teachers to tap in to professional abilities and be effective while simultaneously being subversive. Working subversively within our current reforms will require teachers to clearly demonstrate that their students are learning the required content Exploring Teaching as a Subversive Activity 205 standards while developing critical thinking and problem solving skills. The artistry within this process will be engaging the individual learner in relevant and inquiry-based methods that develop a critical perspective. Eisner (2001) can help us understand how this is possible:

We have tended to focus on outcomes that are standard for all youngsters. We want youngsters to arrive at the same place at about the same time. I would argue that really good schools increase variance in student performance. Really good schools increase the variance and raise the mean. The reason I say that is because, when youngsters can play to their strengths, those whose aptitudes are in, say, mathematics are going to go faster and further in that area than youngsters whose aptitudes are in some other field. (p. 372)

Furthering the argument for individual learning styles, another study by Eisner (1999) demonstrated that inclusion of the arts, and speaking to the interests of students, were shown to raise test scores in reading andS writing. By finding ways to allow students to develop their own strengthsF and interests, learning objectives can be met while embracing the individual learner and allowing him or her to develop at an ideal rateO and holistically. A constructivist approach to teaching allows the individual to experience learning through the environment byO constructing his or her own meanings. Constructivism requires teachers to match their3 teaching styles to students’ learning styles, allowingR for a student-centered classroom. Teachers who engage in constructivistP methods set1 up a classroom that embraces inquiry and opens the door to student-generated0 questions and meanings. InherentP to constructivism and2 student-centered learning is student-generated knowledge, which breaks the right/wrong binary and allows for multipleA meanings and understanding while still covering the necessary content.I Students can ©understand content while developing the skills required for high stakes tests. According to Luppicini, Rocci, Schnackenberg, and Heidi (2000),

a close theoretical-practical connection is assumed to be a defining element of Constructivist Theory and can be given support independent of a Post- modernist framework by appealing to a broader notion of rationality that is objectively grounded and co-extensive with the prescriptive idealization of education.

By challenging students within a constructivist framework, students can engage in individual learning and meaning making which does not conflict with standards driven outcomes. Constructivist pedagogy does not come without its challenges, as shown by Matthews (2004), 206 R GAMM

Employing constructivist teaching practices is problematic at two levels: (1) there is an absence of empirical evidence of effectiveness; and (2) employing this approach for which there is a lack of evidential support, means not employing instructional practices for which there is empirical support. (p. 51)

To engage students in constructivist pedagogies, teachers may need to develop the research to support their methods of instruction that can engage their students in relevant and critical spaces. Teachers must engage in teacher inquiry. Constructivism pairs the appropriate teaching style to the most appropriate learning style of the student; teacher inquiry is the means to make this connection and defend its providence. Cochran-Smith and Lytle’s Inquiry as Stance (2009) describes teacher inquiry as “a powerful and affirmative notion that recognizes the collective intellectual capacity of practitioners to work in alliance with others to transform teacher, learning, leading, and schooling in accordance with democratic principlesS and social justice goals” (p. 118). As Postman and WeingartnerF (1969) called for transformative action 40 years ago, the same need is born out of the disparities in learning outcomes and opportunitiesO that exist today. Teachers must embrace the inquiry process as a habit of mind, blending their local knowledge with formal practicesO as a means to regain and retain professionalism in the field while fostering social justice and democracy. By utilizing inquiry practiRces in their own classrooms,3 teachers enhance their students’ opportunitiesP in education1 and in life while retaining professional autonomy. Spaces may 0be opened for the professional freedom to teach subversively by generating the empirical evidence of effectiveness requiredP in our current education2 reforms. This process allows teachersA to push back and work against current top-down polices while at theI same time opening ©space to teach with methods that are relevant and inquiry based and impart critical knowledge with their students. Opening the door to a student-centered classroom designed around the individual learning styles and using teacher inquiry to defend one’s methods, while not revolutionary ideas, require commitment and courage in even the most seasoned educator. The next question asked must be, “How do we encourage new teachers to embrace this approach?” The work of Wolf-Michael Roth can help illuminate the possibilities of introducing new teachers to the new education. Constructivism, student centered, individual learning styles, relevant teaching, and teacher inquiry are terms that many students of teacher education today are familiar with. So the question might be asked, “Why are these ideas under represented in education today?” The answer may be in what Roth (2002) calls “Symbolic Mastery” as part of their university training; students of teaching “manipulate synoptically, given Exploring Teaching as a Subversive Activity 207 temporal accounts of teaching, where actions can be arranged and rearranged without consequence” (p. 23). They develop a theoretical mastery, but lack in practical experience or “practical mastery.” The theorization occurs outside of the critical moments of here and now where real time decisions and consequences exist in the classroom requiring immediate attention and practical knowledge. How does one teach in the moment, making appropriate real-time decisions without the time for hermeneutic, phenomenological inquiry? Roth (2002) suggests employing the concepts of “being” and “being with,” that is “spielraum” and “relationality,” working either independently or weaving together to construct an image of teaching combining personal and professional experiences with knowledge of Self and Other (p. 91). Being and being with is the process of developing the ability to make the right decision at the right time during unfolding events in the classroom. This can be developed into one’s own habitus, the discursive and material practices of teaching in a specific setting. SpielraumS can be thought of as “room to maneuver in an appropriate manner,” the finding of one’s own voice within the structures of pedagogy (p. 59).F Relationality is described by Roth as “an attempt to deal with the phenomenological concern of restoring teachers’ lived experienceO of relating adaptively, knowingly, and thoughtfully to events and others” (p. 81). This position resisting the urge to simplify teaching as aO series of propositions and procedures embraces the holistic and experiential demands3 of blending praxeology, praxis, and local knowledge.R Roth’s (2002) analysis ofP how and why real-time1 decisions in the classroom can generate a dialectical tension0 between symbolical and practical knowledgeP may provide an answer2 to the new teacher question. As new teachers enter education, they must be supported in ways that create subversive teaching,A otherwise they may fall into the trap of “teaching to the test,” Imerely becoming a© teacher technician. Student teaching experiences must go beyond sink or swim and be rich in coteaching, cogenerative dialoguing, and team teaching. Through these practices experienced teachers can help teaching interns see their classrooms as their own sites for inquiry, where local knowledge can help dismantle the tensions resulting in practically engaging students in more theoretical constructs such as individual inquiry, questioning, construction of knowledge, and critical thinking. By helping future teachers within their own classrooms to practice subversive teaching, we make it possible for the transformation of teaching. Postman and Weingartner (1969) take the stance that the explosion in communication in the decades following World War II necessitated a need for critical knowledge. The Internet Age has seen the transmission of information accelerate exponentially. Students today are bombarded with 208 R GAMM media at an unprecedented rate. Further compounding this matter are reductionist education reforms that have directly limited the exposure students have to content outside the core subjects and opportunities for deeper thinking, limiting their perspectives. The knowledge and intellectual skills required to analyze and comprehend media are the difference between consuming information as a liberating practice, or being consumed by information and oppressed by media images. Practices of teaching to the test and test taking skills, particularly in struggling school districts with limited resources and challenging student populations, have exacerbated the inequity of access to a democratizing, empowering, and liberating education. Teachers in the new education must embrace new forms of communication and media and use the study of them as a way to better understand their subjects. For example, critical media literacy is the difference between teenagers watching the Twilight series of movies and unknowingly digesting the messages implicitly taught, or viewing these films or any other media as a text to understand the messagesS about sex and sexuality that are ever ubiquitous in teen films. As teachers we bear the responsibility to find ways to help students criticallyF understand media so they can be empowered through information and develop healthy views of self and other. O While following all of Postman and Weingartner’s (1969) suggestions may be difficult without overthrowing theO current education regime, the intended outcomes of their suggestionsR may be accomplished3 by working within the current system. While new teachers will not likely be able to place a moratorium on testing,P to teach outside of 1their licensed subject areas, to see school districts removing administrators0 and placing their responsibilities on Pstudents, or to turn2 city schools into community improvement projects, there are other practices which may accomplish the same ends.A Teachers can replace the majority of tests and quizzes with genuine, authentic,I and individualistic© forms of assessment by focusing on student generated work. Coteaching, team teaching, and interdisciplinary teaching can bring relevance to existing subject areas and allow teachers to collaborate and innovate. Democratic learning environments can provide students opportunities to participate and lead in school, developing a shared sense of community and civic responsibility. City schools still face difficult circumstances and are continuously asked to do more with less as social inequities in the United States grow; however, powerful work is being done in cities in terms of developing school community relations. Postman and Weingartner’s 1969 manifesto Teaching as a Subversive Activity was both influential and radical in deconstructing traditional concepts of education. Examining their work illuminates the transformative possibilities within education and functions as a window through which we can see our own practices today and their potential for changing society. Exploring Teaching as a Subversive Activity 209

Subversive teaching exists today, defying attempts to relegate teachers to technicians, engaging students in relevant and inquiry-driven education that challenges them to think critically, teaching students to question, and ultimately, promoting equity and democracy for the benefit of students and the society they enter.

REFERENCES

Cochran-Smith, M., & Lytle, S. (2009). Inquiry as stance: Practitioner research for the next generation. New York, NY: Teachers College Press. Eisner, E. (1999). Does experience in the arts boost academic achievement? Clear- ing House, 72(3), 143-149. Eisner, E. (2001). What does it mean to say a school is doing well? Phi Delta Kap- pan, 82(5), 367-372. Eisner, E. (2002). The kind of schools we need. Phi Delta Kappan, 83(8), 576-583. Luppicini, R., & Schnackenberg, H. (2000). In support of constructivism:S Utilizing rational, moral and communicative frameworks to address frequently posited criticisms. Annual Proceedings of Selected Research and DevelopmentF Papers Presented at the National Convention of the Association for Educational Communica- tions and Technology 2000, Denver, CO. O Matthews, W. (2003). Constructivism in the classroom: Epistemology, history, and empirical evidence. Teacher Education QuarterlyO, 30(3), 51-64. Roth, W.-M. (2002). Being and Becoming a Teacher. Westport, CT: Ablex. Postman, N., & Weingartner, C. (1969).R Teachings as a subversive 3activity. New York, NY: Dell. P 1 P 20 IA ©

CHAPTER 13

“WHAT IS THIS CHILD READY FOR?”

Interacting With John Goodlad as MalawiS Eyes a 100% Primary School CompletionOF Rate P. G A WA N A N I PreciousR GawananiO 3 John Goodlad was born in 1921P in the British Columbia1 province in Can- ada. He started his education career in his home0 country where he was educated up to the master’s level, taught in a one room school house, and then moved to UnitedP States to work on 2his doctoral degree at the Uni- versity of Chicago.A There he met some prominent education scholars who helped to mentorI him, such as ©Benjamin Bloom and Ralph Tyler. Good- lad is a prominent American educator; his work in education involves many areas such as early childhood education, school climate, teacher education, school culture, nongraded schools, curriculum, and school renewal. Goodlad also became well-known because he served in different positions ranging from a teacher in a one-room school house, a teacher in an elementary school, a school principal, a director of curriculum, a professor of education, a dean of education at the University of California, and director of the Center for Education Renewal (Goldberg, 1995). His work as director of the Center for Education Renewal at the University of

Curriculum Windows: What Curriculum Theorists of the 1960s Can Teach Us About Schools and Society Today, pp. 211–226 Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved. 211 212 P. GAWANANI

Washington influenced education renewal in the last 2 decades of the 20th century in the United States. Considering the work that Goodlad has been doing in education especially on school renewal, I thought it would be important to explore some of his ideas to see how they can be applied to the case of Malawi as we struggle to renew our schools and education system in general with the focus of achieving a 100% primary school completion rate by 2015 (goal two of the Millennium Development Goals). Several of Goodlad’s ideas concerning early childhood education, curriculum and school renewal, nongraded schools, and teacher education will help me reflect upon the challenges facing the education system in Malawi. Goodlad is a scholar who has openly advocated for universal public education, so his work connects pretty well to Malawi’s push for universal primary education. In order to see connections, I studied Goodlad’s book titled School, Curriculum and the Individual (1966). There are two main reasons for choosing to base my work on this book. One of the reasons Sis that this book was written at a very important time in the history of education in America. This is the time when scholars were panicking Fto find solutions to reports that the American education system was not matching up to that of Russia following Russia’s launch of SputnikO (Schubert, Schubert, Thomas, & Carroll, 2002). Educators had to brainstorm and find lasting solutions to the state of education in America.O Although not exactly in the same situation, Malawi today is simiRlarly bombarded with3 reports from all angles that the education system is not comparable to that of neighboring countries in Sub-Saharan AfricaP (Sabates, Akyeampong,1 Westbrook, & Hunt, 2011). Current studies show that schools0 in Malawi have the highest dropout rates, highest repetition rates,2 and lowest primary school completion rates whenP compared to other countries in southern Africa (Maluwa-Banda,A 2004; World Bank, 2004). The secondI reason for basing© my work on this book is that unlike many others written by Goodlad it covers a broader ground. This book is a compilation of papers, most of them written by him but all related to the three themes of school, curriculum, and the individual. So, I have found this work helpful because as we try to renew our education system in Malawi, we need to consider these three important domains, especially how they impact each other and the whole education system at large. Goodlad’s book was also written during a time when there was some civil unrest in the United States, especially centering on social injustices based on race, gender, and social class issues, in particular. This is the time when people, especially minority groups, were fighting daily for equal rights and access to education resources. Although people in Malawi are not fighting for exactly the same issues and are located in a different place and time, there are similarities. One similarity is that peo- “What is this Child Ready For?” 213 ple in both countries are fighting to end social inequalities among different groups. Malawian educators are struggling to find ways to reduce inequalities that lead to achievement gaps between some social groups of the population like female and male students, and students in urban and rural schools.

Review of Goodlad’s School, Curriculum and the Individual

Goodlad’s (1966) book is a compilation of papers on different matters in education related to themes of school, curriculum, and the individual. In the first part of the book, Goodlad discusses school function and the individual. He says that the aim of education, which is also reflected in the schools, is to develop people who value both themselves and all humankind. Goodlad moves a step further in the way he sees what schools should do, and he stresses that there is a moral aspect that accompaniesS his definition of what schools are expected to do. Using morality as a yard stick to assess who an educated person is, he identifies anF educated person as one who is rational. He explores how education systems of the so called ‘literate’ societies have not done enough inO developing or producing rational individuals hence the need for education renewal (p. 5). I find this yardstick both interesting andO challenging. In the first place, morality is not a concept that peopleR can easily agree 3on in terms of meaning. In my view morality is context based, what may be seen as moral in one given community mayP be immoral in another.1 In education, every decision has to do with making choices, choosing0 between right and wrong and consideringP the ethics and meaning2 and impact of actions. Goodlad’s preferred end is that moral decision making is rational, and that it leads toA the increased value and growth of the individual and community. I likeI the idea of broadening© the way an educated person is defined, not just confining it to intellectual abilities. There is also an emphasis on action in Goodlad’s work; an educated person should be able to put into practice what he or she learns for the betterment of the society. This is indeed a defensible moral end. In countries that have education systems with high-stakes testing like Malawi, being educated is narrowly defined in reference to intellectual attributes, which are mostly assessed through examinations. So, broadening the definition of an educated person helps us examine the educational practices in my country and even consider education renewal to reach this end, defined as a more moral, rational outcome of public education that would benefit all of society, individuals and all communities. Goodlad also discusses in great detail individual differences among students. He says children come to school with different abilities; he actu- 214 P. GAWANANI ally estimates that the mental age range for children entering first grade is more than three years (Goodlad, 1966). How do schools address for these differences? In many cases schools have not done a good job addressing the individual needs of students. Children for the most part have been treated homogenously. Graded schools, for example, expect students to receive and master instruction at the same pace; those who manage to master the curriculum are promoted to the next grade while those who fail to master it are retained. It is also interesting that Goodlad goes further to discuss differences from one subject-field to another in a single learner (Goodlad, 1966). There are occasions when you have students who are very good in one subject area like English, but they are not that good in another subject like mathematics. Sometimes it also happens that within a single subject students may be good in one section of the course and do badly in the other section. I found this to be an important observation which speaks directly to me. When I was in elementary school, I used to be an aboveS average student in all the subjects except mathematics. I was given a lot of good comments and awards from all other teachers except fromF the mathematics teacher because in this field I was just an average student. Because of the individual differences, questionsO of school organization become inevitable. Goodlad discusses the vertical and horizontal school organization. In terms of vertical organization,O schools must classify students to move them upward fromR a point when they enter3 school to a point when they leave school. He gives three options for this which are grading, multigrading, andP nongrading (Goodlad,1 1966). Horizontal school organization is determined by organizing0 the curriculum to emphasize the separatenessP of subjects or2 the interrelationships among them, by having self-contained or departmentalized classrooms. Although these two formsA of school organization are often confused, they are not the same. GoodladI argues against© graded schools, which he says ignore individual differences by expecting students to cover subject matter at the same pace. He mostly argues for nongraded schools in which students progress according to their readiness to proceed. The subject matter is presented based on its inherent difficulty and the individual student’s ability to cope with it. Graded schools also surface the question of promotion and nonpromotion. Teachers have to face this difficult question at the end of each and every academic year when working in graded schools. So Goodlad argues for creating nongraded schools where the question of promotion or nonpromotion does not even exist. I find this to be an interesting option especially when it comes to meeting individual needs of students considering the differences that students have among each other and even within individual learners themselves. Although Good- lad’s ideas about nongraded schools seem to be appealing, it is not some- “What is this Child Ready For?” 215 thing that should be taken uncritically. This is not a concept that can be applied wholesale from one context to another. One thing that is worth noting is that although Goodlad advocated ideas about nongraded schools almost 5 decades ago, and these ideas have not greatly influenced the American education system. American public schools are still graded for the most part and grades seem to be synonymous with vertical organization of the school system. In Malawi, just as in many other places, students attend school with different skill sets, which makes some more able to progress quickly in the vertical organization of the school while others struggle to move through the grades. Some students end up being frustrated and pushed out of the school system. The high repetition and dropout rates in Malawi could possibly be checked if the grades, which hinder some students’ learning, were abolished. In Malawi we face a shortage of teachers; in public schools it is not uncommon for a teacher to be teaching 80 students in one class (Chi- mombo, 2005) and there is an acute shortage of teaching andS learning resources. These challenges would make nongraded schools impractical. It would not be easy for a teacher to really give individualF attention, which is a main aspect of nongraded schools, to a class that has more than 80 students. This is not to justify graded schools, butO just trying to be prag- matic enough with respect to the challenges that are on the ground in Malawi. O Goodlad also discusses school renewal,R with a special focus3 on curriculum organization. He argues that there is need for improvements in curriculum organization so Pthat a school’s curriculum1 emphasizes fundamental concepts, skills, and values and 0also so that teachers have some freedom to organizeP activities that work2 well for individual students. In this line of thinking, Goodlad is against teacher-proof curriculum that generally asksA teachers to implement curriculum as it is without making a lot of changesI to suit the particular© contexts they are working in. This idea of teacher proof curricula, which was prevalent in the 1960s and early 1970s in America, is widely seen now in both America and other parts of the world because of the focus on standardized examinations that so many education systems have emphasized (Schubert et al., 2002). In Malawi because of the centralized nature of the education system and the focus on standardized high stakes examinations, teachers do not have enough autonomy to modify the curriculum to suit the needs of their individual students. Goodlad suggested that future schools should change the concept of looking at the curriculum as the final authority. The curriculum should guide the teacher in his or her work with the students; there should be no slavish adherence to the curriculum. This is also a challenge in the current American schools because of the No Child Left Behind Act of 2001 which supports standards based education reform. And because the stan- 216 P. GAWANANI dardized examinations in Malawi just focus on measuring some aspects of cognitive abilities other forms of knowledge and skills are neglected (Chakwera, Khembo, & Sireci, 2004). Teachers in Malawi also have for the most part resorted to teaching the knowledge and the skills that are being emphasized in the curriculum and on the standardized examination leaving students without a comprehensive education. In the last section of the book, Goodlad looks into the future in relation to how teachers will be deployed, how teachers will be prepared, how existing schools will be modified, and how new schools will be designed. Per- haps these ideas represent the ideal education system that Goodlad envisioned. It is sad that although many of the ideas Goodlad proposed are important in addressing the individual needs of children, many of his ideas have not been incorporated in the education reform movements that have happened in American schools or institutions of teacher education. As part of utilizing teachers effectively, Goodlad argues that society has not utilized talent well enough by just focusing on teachers as peopleS who can teach children. In this regard he suggests using people from different backgrounds like communication experts under the guidanceF of curriculum specialists who can develop education films and tapes that can be used to help students learn. He also suggests using teachersO on a part-time basis, especially some people who are well educated but do not want a full- time job. This approach could help reduceO the problem of teacher shortage that many education systems face,R especially in Malawi.3 However, if not supervised well, the approach of opening up the school to more input by citizens could water down theP education system; it is1 a fact that not everyone can teach. A similar situation happened in0 Malawi in 1994 when the government removedP tuition fees that primary2 school students were paying, enrollment in these schools doubled (Chimombo, 2005). Schools were not prepared Afor this as such they had to recruit more teachers, but since there were Inot a enough qualified© teachers to be recruited the government resorted to recruiting temporary, unqualified teachers. This process of using unqualified teachers also had a negative impact on the students and the teaching profession as a whole (Chimombo, 2005). Students were put in the hands of people who did not have knowledge of pedagogy, student development, and even of the content they were required to teach. But still the situation cemented the long held misconceptions in the public that anyone can teach. In America there is still a debate on whether ‘‘Teach for America,’’ a program that recruits new graduates from different fields to teach in low-income communities, really helps students. Some scholars argue that this program perpetuates education inequalities by allowing people who are not well prepared to teach in low income communities (Decker, Mayer, & Glazerman, 2004). The bottom line, though, is that schools should expand the nature of teaching and learning to include the “What is this Child Ready For?” 217 wider community; but doing so isn’t easy, requires time and resources, and depends on the context. Goodlad indicates that teacher preparation programs should be renewed. Prospective teachers or student teachers have to become very familiar with the practices of teaching through observing the practice. He suggests use of videotapes, where student teachers can discuss some important points that they have acquired in their training and they can now see them in practice (Goodlad, 1966). I find this observation helpful considering that in many circumstances in Malawi, student teachers become exposed to teaching practices when they are on the mandated teaching practicum. So, making sure that student teachers are exposed to the best teaching practices early enough through in-class observation and discussing videotaped lessons is important. Hopefully, practices like this could help ensure that teacher preparation institutions produce well trained teachers who would likely make a difference in the world. In Malawi we also have a similar situation whereby student teachersS are exposed to the practice of teaching late in their preparation program, mostly when they are about to graduate during a mandatoryF teaching practicum. It could help to have teacher preparation institutions make partnerships with elementary or high schools so thatO student teachers are sent to these schools to observe qualified and experienced teachers teach very early in their programs, instead of waitingO until they are almost finished with the program to do the teachingR practicum. Goodlad,3 through the National Network for Educational Renewal (NNER), has been a staunch proponent of strengtheningP teacher preparation1 programs especially through school and university partnerships0 (Goldberg, 1995). Although there are some teacher preparation2 institutions that try to do this in Malawi, it shouldP be part of the requirements that accrediting institutions demandIA from all the teacher© preparation institutions. Context and Challenges Facing Malawian Education System

I want to take some space and time to more thoroughly introduce my country and the challenges we face educationally in light of Goodlad’s ideas and my own experiences. Malawi is a country in the south east of Africa, bordered by Tanzania in the north, Zambia in the west, and Mozambique to the south and east. Like many other African countries, Malawi is facing numerous challenges in many areas including education (Zhang, 2006). One major inequality among different social groups of the population is their different levels of access to education opportunities (Mbewe, 2004). Malawi struggles to find resources for its schools, and its unequal means for distributing educational resources among different 218 P. GAWANANI social groups exacerbates the inequalities of the system. There are especially grave inequalities in terms of resource allocation between schools that are in the rural areas and those that are in the urban areas, with schools that are in the rural areas lacking important teaching and learning resources as compared to those in the urban areas (Chimombo, 2005). It is not uncommon to find students in the rural schools having their lessons under the shades of trees because of lack of classrooms (Sankhulani, 2007). Schools in the rural areas mostly have insufficient numbers of teachers; some teachers do not want to work in the rural areas of Malawi because these areas lack many of the basic necessities that their colleagues in urban centers enjoy. For example, most rural areas in Malawi do not have running/piped water, health facilities like hospitals are not available, and most areas in the rural parts of Malawi do not have electricity. These conditions make retention of teachers in rural areas a challenge; even when teachers are sent there by the government when they have just graduated from college, the teachers stay merely for a short period of timeS and eventually leave to work in more urban centers (Mbewe, 2004). Students in the rural schools are typically taught by the most inexperiencedF teachers. Among the teaching and learning resources that rural schools lack are science laboratories; this is a huge problem for studentsO in rural schools because they do not experience science lessons in the same way their peers in urban schools do and yet they areO assessed using the same yard stick, the national standardized examRinations. The stated 3reason given for the lack of science laboratories is that rural schools do not have piped water and hydroelectricity toP support these laboratories.1 This is for the most part a dodge by the government because0 many of the rural schools lack resources that Pare not dependent on2 hydro electricity or the piped water, such as a school library. Many schools in the rural areas do not have libraries whileA schools in the urban centers at least have libraries, which may not beI well stocked but at least© some books are available that students can read (Chimombo, 2005). In rural areas, students generally have to travel longer distances to school than in the urban areas. In the majority of cases students have to walk at least 10 kilometers everyday to attend school (Sankhulani, 2007). And since there are few schools in the rural areas, coupled with a shortage of teachers, it comes as no surprise to see that most of the schools in the rural areas have a very high teacher to student ratio. Chimombo (2005) observed that while in urban areas one teacher may be responsible for 40 students, in the rural areas it is worse because the number can go up to 70 students. The challenges that schools in rural areas have negatively affect the students that attend these schools, most especially students with special education needs. For example, walking long distances becomes a big problem to students with physical disabilities like those who have visual “What is this Child Ready For?” 219 impairments and those with mobility problems. Growing up in the rural part of Malawi, I saw some of my friends who had some physical disabilities drop out of school because they just could not manage walking long distances each and every day and their parents could not afford escorting them to school by carrying them on their back. Big class sizes also negatively affect the students with disabilities because they fail to get the individualized attention that they need from the teachers (Itimu, 2006). Although these problems are not unique to rural schools, the situation in urban schools is better than in rural schools in Malawi.

Goodlad’s Ideas and the Move Towards a 100% Primary School Completion Rate in Malawi

Malawi is a signatory to a number of treaties aimed at reforming education systems in the world. For example, she is a signatory toS the 1990 Jomtien “World Conference on Education for All” and the Dakar 2000 Framework for Action, which is a follow-up of the proceedingsF of the Jom- tien conference (Malawi Government, 2002). Also, the 1990 Jomtien conference was a meeting of 155 countries at which Oa resolution was drafted to ensure that education is accessible to all the children of the world. This resolution was championed by UNESCO andO it has been included in the Millennium Development Goals, andR it is goal number two3 which calls for countries to achieve universal primary education by the year 2015 (World Bank, 2010). P 1 Malawi made commitments to these resolutions0 on the international scene, and in 1994 tuitionP fees for primary2 schools were eliminated (Chi- mombo, 2005). This was a very good development because many children were out of schoolA because they could not pay tuition fees. As a result of this governmentI action, the student© enrollment doubled in schools the academic year after the fees were abolished (Chimombo, 2005). Although this was a good thing, it brought some unintended consequences such as a critical shortage of teachers, insufficient classroom space, and insufficient teaching and learning resources (Maluwa-Banda, 2004). So, although one problem was addressed—bringing in school children that would never be in school because of their inability to pay tuition—new problems were created such as high repetition and dropout rates. Malawi continues to struggle to meet goal number two of the Mille- nium Development Goals, which calls for universal primary education. As a result of the abolishment of tuition fees by the government, the net enrollment rate in Malawian primary schools is quite impressive if compared to other countries in the Sub-Saharan Africa. However, the primary school completion rate is the lowest among them (Sabates, Akyeampong, 220 P. GAWANANI

Westbrook, & Hunt, 2011). This means many children start school but drop out before they are literate. Some argue that the primary school dropout rate in Malawi is at 65%; of course, this makes the goal of universal primary education seem distant and unattainable. There seems to be a very good correlation between repetition rate and dropout rate. World Bank (2010) shows that Malawi has the highest repetition rate in the Sub- Saharan Africa. This makes a lot of sense to me, having interacted with many friends who were on the verge of dropping out of school because they had been held in the same grade for more than two academic years. Some students drop out because of frustration and also because they do not want to be part of the stigma that grade retention brings in Malawi.

How to Address Repetition and Dropout Rates in Malawi Maluwa-Banda (2004) noted that the main reason for gradeS retention is poor academic performance, so students that are heldF back are given some more time to learn the material that their friends managed to learn the first time round. This “more time” comes in theO form of repeating the grade. Goodlad’s work comes into play at this point; he argues for teachers and schools to address individual needsO of students. The most important question to ask in starting a child off on his school career is “What is this child ready for?” (Goodlad, 1966,R p. 248) If this 3question is well answered it can show that educators have moved a step1 further in addressing the needs of students, notP just lumping them0 together as if they are all the same, where they belong in heterogeneous settings but where their unique needs mightP also get lost. There are2 many ways of answering this question and Aaccording to Goodlad this question is at the center of the rationale forI nongraded schools.© So could a nongraded school structure help Malawi achieve a primary school completion rate of 100% by 2015 from the current 35%? This is not a simple question to answer considering that there are a number of factors that are involved in the effort to reach a 100% primary school completion rate. One of the major strategies in my view is to ensure that poor academic performance is addressed, because as already noted by Maluwa-Banda (2004), this is the main cause of grade retention, which contributes greatly to the dropout rate. Studies done in the Sub-Saharan Africa have shown that students in Malawi have been underperforming in both mathematics and English (World Bank, 2010). So, in order to address the root cause of repetition, which in turn often leads to an abundance of overage students who normally get frustrated and dropout, we need to address academic performance of these students in real time. We “What is this Child Ready For?” 221 need to find a way to improve the academic performance of the students, so that repetition is curbed. Goodlad’s proposal for nongraded schools removes the question of promotion to the next grade or retention. Nongraded schools would help students who struggle with mastering the content by providing more time for these students to learn without punishing them by holding them back. Strategies would have to be put in place to help students learn because in my view just removing the grade structure does not benefit students at all if their performance does not improve. However, I still consider the question that Goodlad always asks, “What is this child ready for?” as very important if one is to really meet the individual needs of students even in situations where one wants to organize schools differently other than the proposed nongraded schools. The challenge now is upon educators to make sure that they meet the individual needs of these students, identifying what the individual students are capable of doing. Putting this in the context of Malawi, where there is a critical shortage of teachersS and teaching and learning resources, how will schools be organized? There needs to be stronger infrastructure to take on a reform of this Fmagnitude, this would require hiring more teachers, developing a well coordinated continuous teacher professional development, and Oeven constructing more buildings to increase classroom space. One thing that is required in trying to meetO the individual needs of all the students is to make sure that theR government educates3 enough teachers to reduce the current unhealthy teacher to pupil ratio of 1:70 in some areas, especially rural ones. InP situations where one teacher1 is in charge of so many students, it becomes very difficult for the0 teacher to give individualized attention toP the students and to2 answer Goodlad’s important question, ‘What is this child ready for?’ If the government can make sure that the numberA of teachers is increased in all schools, especially in rural schools whereI teacher retention ©is such a big problem, then students’ academic performance would probably be improved. As observed by Grissom and Shepard (1989) and Maluwa-Banda (2004), good academic performance, of course, would reduce both repetition and dropout rates thereby allowing Malawi to approach a higher primary school completion rate. The government of Malawi needs to come up with education policies that will enable rural areas to have enough teachers to reduce the current high teacher to pupil ratio. Malawi could begin addressing this issue by encouraging institutions that educate primary school teachers to send student teachers to rural communities to work as teacher aides. This would be helpful both to the students in these rural communities who could have someone to tutor them thereby getting the much needed individualized attention but also the student teachers can learn a lot from this experience by being mentored by the experienced teachers. 222 P. GAWANANI

Also the government should introduce incentives that would attract teachers to consider working in the rural areas. The current rural hardship allowance, which is an extra amount of money that teachers who work in rural areas get (World Bank, 2008), is not adequate to attract teachers. The government should increase this rural hardship allowance but also consider introducing scholarships to teachers who work in rural areas so that they can use them to further their education. This would work both as an incentive and also as a form of professional development that is coordinated by the government. The problems of retention and dropout rates could also be addressed through equitable distribution of resources. As noted by Maluwa-Banda (2004), poor academic performance results in high retention rates, which contribute to dropout rates. And schools that do not achieve highly in academics are mostly those that lack important resources like teaching and learning resources; these are same schools that have a very high teacher to pupil ratio. Goodlad (1966) also argues for equitableS distribution of resources among schools so that students in low funded schools can also get quality education that their colleagues in richF neighborhoods receive. This is similar to the situation in Malawi where schools in the rural areas do not have necessary teaching and Olearning resources and also the teacher to pupil ratio is pathetic. To help reduce retention and dropout rates the government has to makeO a deliberate effort in ensuring that resources are distributedP equitably.R 13 Are Nongraded SchoolsP an Option in2 Malawi?0 Unfortunately, despite the value that would be added if they could be created, nongradedA schools in Malawi would not be an option to meet the goal of achievingI a 100% primary© school completion rate. In the first place, the Malawian education system is highly centralized and so is the curriculum, which is simply handed down to teachers from the Ministry of Education, the national controlling board of education in the country. Teachers do not have much input on what is taught, and the practice of standardized national examinations makes it even harder for teachers to bring into the curriculum some material that they may think is important for students. Goodlad’s (1966) notion of nongraded schools requires a lot of flexibility in the organization of the curriculum. He points out that curriculum in nongraded schools should just be a guide to teachers and not representative of everything that is taught (p. 240). Teachers in a school like that have autonomy to implement material that is helpful to individual students without taking into consideration a sequence predetermined by outside authorities. “What is this Child Ready For?” 223

Another reason that would make nongraded schools not work effectively in Malawi is the problem of the teacher shortage. Nongraded schools, as advocated by Goodlad, work well in places where a teacher is in charge of not more than 25 students. I think it would be an absolute nightmare for a teacher to be in charge of 100 students in a nongraded school. So, although we are pushing for the government to train more teachers with fewer resources, it is not likely that the current high teacher to pupil ratio would be reduced to 1:25 or better anytime soon. So, nongraded school dreams in Malawi will still be in the pipeline for some time.

Multigraded Schools as a Window

Considering that repetition and dropout rates are highest in the rural areas in most Sub-Saharan Africa (Mulkeen & Higgins, 2009), I would suggest it would be important to look for ways of school organizationS that address this problem especially in these areas. One strategy to meet the needs of many children in the rural areas who are “at-risk”F of dropping out of school before they are even literate is to establish multigraded schools in these areas. Multigraded schools come Othrough a vertical organization of schools whereby two or more “official” grades are combined (Anderson & Pavan, 1993). Schools may endO up being organized as multigraded because educators chose thatR form of organization3 or they may have been forced by the available conditions. With choice, it may come as a form of pedagogy that educatorsP agree upon (Anderson1 & Pavan, 1993). Mulkeen and Higgins (2009) have argued that0 multigraded schools are popular in areas thatP are remote, especially2 where there are not enough children to run a full range graded school. In the case of Malawi, some students in ruralA areas—because of the geographic features like moun- tains, thickI forests, and rivers—are© unable to attend schools regularly and in the long run they just end up dropping out (World Bank, 2010). The idea of multigraded schools would serve these children because a multigraded primary school that just has three teachers for example and is located close to these children would be able to meet their individual needs without punishing them with retention, thereby reducing the chances of dropping out. Multigraded schools as noted by Mulkeen and Higgins (2009) would work well in the Sub-Saharan Africa to address needs of children who need to attend school that is very close to their home such as female students who may not feel safe walking long distances to school, and orphans who may also be taking care of their siblings. Malawi, being a country in the Sub- Saharan Africa that has seen so many children orphaned due to HIV and AIDS related diseases (National Statistic Office, 2011) and that has many 224 P. GAWANANI schools that are located far from each other in the rural areas, could benefit from multigraded schools. In terms of improving the academic performance of students, several studies have shown that students in multigraded schools have higher reading scores than those in graded schools (Mulkeen & Higgins, 2009). So, since the main reason for introducing these schools in the rural areas is to increase access and academic performance of the at risk children, multigraded schools might be a better option. Multigrade schools in some Sub-Saharan Africa have also been used to reach out to children who dropped out from graded schools (Mulkeen & Higgins, 2009). This would be a wonderful opportunity in Malawi considering that there are many children who drop out from primary school when they are barely literate (World Bank, 2010). The push for a 100% primary school completion rate would also be enhanced if children between 7 and 15 years old who have dropped out of school are brought back to school and helped to complete their primary school education.S I think multigraded schools would work well in attendingF to students who dropped out of school in different grades. The teachers would be able to meet the individual needs of these students who Ocould be in one remote area but may have dropped out of school in different grades and have different individual needs. RO 3 How to Make Multigraded Schools Work Effectively1 in Malawi P 0 One of the mostP important ways to make2 multigraded schools work effectively in MalawiA is to make curriculum adaptations. It would be challenging (butI not impossible) to effe©ctively manage multigraded schools in countries like Malawi that have education systems that are very centralized. Anderson and Pavan (1993) argue that curriculum material in many countries is premised on graded schools, so making some modifications to suit the needs of multigraded schools would be important. Modifica- tions would include differentiated curricula and assessment formats that consider that grades are combined. Teacher preparation is also very important if we are to implement multigraded schools effectively. Countries like Finland that have successfully implemented multigraded schools have embedded multigrade teaching into teacher education curricula (World Bank, 2010). Institu- tions that prepare primary school teachers in Malawi should ensure that multigrade teaching is part of the required courses student teachers have to study before they graduate. For those already in the service, it would “What is this Child Ready For?” 225 be important for education officials to facilitate professional development courses that discuss multigrade teaching. Considering that the dominant thinking in vertical school organization is graded, change would require awareness campaigns to people both in the education circles and those outside of them such as parents and the general public. The public has to be made aware that multigraded schools are not inferior to graded schools; it is just another form of vertical school organization. Anderson and Pavan (1993) observed that multigraded schools fail mostly in areas where teachers, parents, and the community have not understood the concept behind multigraded teaching and school organization. In summary, Goodlad offers us a very important lesson in trying to address the challenges that our education system is facing that will make it hard for us to achieve the mandated 100% primary school completion rate by 2015. Poor academic achievement which greatly contributes to high rates of retention and dropout is the main challenge thatS is facing the education system in Malawi. Although there are many approaches that could improve academic performance for studentsF in Malawi, one thing that we surely can learn from Goodlad is to attend to individual needs of particular students. We may not need toO follow the nongraded schools that Goodlad proposes because the conditions in Malawi may not easily support them. However, utilizing theO question that Goodlad asks when trying to meet the individual needs of students would help us consider other forms of school organizationR like multigraded3 schools that would equally meet the individualP needs of students1 thereby improving their academic performance while still fitting within0 the political and economic constraints of the setting. Another lesson that we can get from Goodlad is about reformingP primary school2 teacher education programs to allow studentA teachers to get immersed in classrooms early enough in their educationI programs. This would© be very valuable in Malawi; it would help students get some extra tutoring which is very important considering the high teacher to pupil ratio and the student teachers themselves would be mentored by the experienced teachers in these schools.

REFERENCES

Anderson, R. H., & Pavan, B.,N. (1993). Nongradedness: Helping it to happen. Lan- caster, England: Technomic. Chakwera, E., Khembo, D., & Sireci, S.G. (2004). High-stakes test in the warm heart of Africa: The challenges and successes of the Malawi National Exami- nation Board. Educational Policy Analysis Archive, 12(29), 1-21. Chimombo, J. P. G. (2005). Quantity versus quality in education: Case studies in Malawi. International Review of Education, 51(1), 155-172. 226 P. GAWANANI

Decker, P. T., Mayer, D. P., & Glazerman, S. (2004). The effects of teach for America on students: Findings from a national evaluation. (A Report prepared for: The Smith Richardson Foundation, The William and Flora Hewlett Foundation and The Carnegie Foundation). Princeton, NJ: Mathematica Policy Research. Goldberg, M. F., (1995) A portrait of John Goodlad. Educational Leadership, 52(6), 82-85. Goodlad, J. (1966). School, curriculum, and the individual. Waltham, MA: Blaisdell. Grisson, J. B., & Shepard, L. A. (1989). Repeating and dropping out of school. In L. A. Shepard & M. L. Smith, (Eds.), Flunking grades: Research and policies on retention (pp. 34-63). New York, NY: The Falmer Press. Itimu, A. N. (2006). Realizing education for all from a special needs perspective. Malawi Institute of Education: Curriculum and Assessment for Quality Education in the 21st Century Conference, 101-110. Malawi Government. (2002). Malawi poverty reduction strategic paper. Lilongwe, Malawi: Ministry of Finance and Economic Planning. Maluwa-Banda, D. (2004). Gender sensitive educational policy and practice: The case of Malawi. Prospects, 34(1), 72-83. Mbewe, S. M. (2004). Rural communities-education relationship inS developing countries: The case of Malawi. International Education Journal, 5(3), 310-330. Mulkeen, A. G., & Higgins, C. (2009). Multigrade teaching in Sub-SaharanF Africa: Lessons fromUganda, Senegal and Gambia. World Bank Working Paper, 173, 1- 44. O National Statistics Office. (2011). Malawi demographic and health survey 2010. Blan- tyre, Malawi: Government Press. O Sabates, R., Akyeampong, K., Westbrook, J., & Hunt, F. (2011). School dropout, patterns, changes and policies. BackgroundR paper for Education3 for All Global Monitoring Report 2011. Retrieved from http://unesdoc.unesco.org/images/1 0019/001907/190771e.pdf P Sankhulani, L. (2007). Responding to the needs of the0 community: Examining the education opportunitiesP for girls in rural 2Malawi. International Education Jour- nal, 8(1), 100-107. Schubert, W.,L,A Schubert, A. L. L, Thomas, P. T., & Carroll, W. M. (2002). Curricu- lum books:I The first hundred years© (2nd ed ). New York, NY: Peter Lang. World Bank. (2004). Cost, financing and school effectiveness of education in Malawi. Africa region Human Development Working Paper series. Washington, DC: Human Development Sector. World Bank. (2008). Teachers for rural schools: Experiences in Lesotho, Malawi, Mozam- bique, Tanzania, and Uganda. A. Mulkeen & D. Chen (Eds.), Washington, DC: Author. World Bank. (2010). The education system in Malawi. Washington, DC: Author. Zhang, Y, (2006). Urban-rural literacy gaps in Sub-Saharan Africa: The roles of socioeconomic class and school quality. Comparative Education Review, 50(4), 581-602. CHAPTER 14

IN PURSUIT OF THE COMMON GOOD WITH PHILIP PHENIX

C. SCALFARO Carmen Scalfaro S OF One of my favorite components of doctoral level courses is the classroom discussion. This is an enriching space whereO charged minds are free to question, to critique, to vehemently agree or disagree with one another— including Dr. Poetter’s class, where RI was invited to write this3 chapter. Typ- ically, the classroom tables in his class were arranged1 in the shape of a “U,” allowing us to easily seeP each other as we spoke. It also created a large area in the middle of the room, ideal for0 snacks and refreshments each week. To me,P most discussions resembled2 that of the childhood game of “hot potato,” where one person expressed a thought, followed quickly by Ianother,A and so on like rapid fire. Any student was welcome to contribute an opinion. I’ve always© thought I learned the most through these engaging, rich conversations with my colleagues. At the first class meeting, Dr. Poetter addressed us as we sat in our “U,” presenting the basis of this project: to engage a text from the 1960s and construct a vision or a “window” allowing us to move forward. He circulated the books from which we could choose and shared a brief overview for each. When he came to Education and the Common Good: A Moral Philosophy of the Curriculum by Philip Phenix (1977), my ears perked up. Through most of my doctoral courses, laden with critical and postmodern influences, I have

Curriculum Windows: What Curriculum Theorists of the 1960s Can Teach Us About Schools and Society Today, pp. 227–242 Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved. 227 228 C. SCALFARO learned to at least consider or question terms like “common” and “good”— who’s good and how can it be common? Does good exist beyond the word itself? What is moral? Who are we serving? What is good and who decides? After hearing Dr. Poetter suggest Phenix and his book, I had to reflect on what “good” means to me; I had to know more.

A Window to a Democracy of Worth

My intent in writing this chapter is to visit the ideas of educational scholar and curricularist Phillip Phenix and to resurface his commitment to a “democracy of worth,” the notion that one can move beyond individual interests and personal gain to a just and equitable place of harmony. Looking at Phenix and his ideas, we can see a glimpse of what he believes it means to be more concerned with the well-being of others and concom- itantly to find joy in our dedication to the common good. For SPhenix, we can have both a fulfilling public life and private life. ThisF understanding comes through education. Phenix carves a space that grants educators the freedom to share with students values that are worthyO of our devotion, rather than to simply hide behind sanitized, prefabricated benchmarks and standardized curricula. Consider theO following exemplar that not only spotlights the value of learning and teaching beyond a standardized curriculum, but also provides a metaRphor of a “window”3 to seeing a democracy of worth. 1 “Miss Bloom,” a first grade P teacher, was sitting alone at her desk bask- ing in the relative silence as she finished her lunch.0 She heard little foot- steps and looked upP to find one of her2 students unobtrusively walk through the door and sit at his desk. Curious, she approached the young man and askedIA why he had left the© playground and the other children. “I don’t like to play basketball like all the other kids. I’m not as good as them and I don’t want to play!” he puffed. Miss Bloom unfolded her arms and thought for a moment. Then she smiled and asked him to look out the window with her. From her third floor classroom window they could see the busy street below. As he eyed the vibrant panorama, he saw many people doing “routine” things. He saw shops with signs in their doors beckoning patrons in for lunch, a woman walking three different sized dogs, two city workers attending a broken parking meter, a smiling man on the corner selling a hot dog to a woman carrying blueprints she just finished, and an older woman shoo- ing away pigeons as she swept the sidewalk in front of her newspaper stand. Miss Bloom said, In Pursuit of the Common Good With Philip Phenix 229

When I look out this window, I see people helping others by doing what they enjoy. We all can’t do the same things or be good at the same things because we enjoy doing different things. And since people are good at doing different things, all of us can enjoy different things—like eating hot- dogs! It’s okay if you don’t like to play basketball, not everybody does. Part of my job as your teacher—which I enjoy doing—is helping you discover what it is that you like to do. This is what school is really be about!

He scrunched his brow, pulled a pencil from his desk, and offered, “I like to draw.” Miss Bloom turned to the shelf behind her, picked up a sheet of blank paper, and placed it in front of him and said, “Then draw.”

Clear and Functional Philip Phenix

Philip Phenix studied at Princeton University, Union Theological Sem- inary, and Columbia University and worked as Dean of CarletonS College and professor of Education at Teachers College at ColumbiaF University. In 1961, Phenix published Education and the Common Good: A Moral Philos- ophy of the Curriculum. In it, he argues that curriculumO is not merely located within subjects covered in school, but in everything that can be taught or learned within or beyond the classroomO walls. He systematically engages in topics from manners and recreation to health and social class in clear and functional chapters. PhenixR (1977) contested3 that the focal point of the book is to emphasize that the cardinal1 goal of educational instruction, no matter the field,P should be the development of loyalty to what is excellent, instead of achievement of individual0 desires. Citizens should be self-sacrificingP in an effort to2 optimize what is best for the whole of humanity. Phenix promotes clarity and function as he examines what the rolesIA and responsibilities of citizens are within a democracy. Phenix clearly and functionally© constructs a vision of what is good, not simply to the individual or the personal, but to all. It is something we all have in common at the most basic level; and the good is something of a hybrid idea or construct, that is fully universal, yet fully personal. It is our right or duty, as believers in that which is excellent, to uphold the common good and to forsake our personal interests for the betterment and progress of society and democracy. This is not an easy task to undertake considering the relative world we live in; yet Phenix does not merely prescribe it, he expects it from us as educated and intelligent individuals, as he writes:

This is the soul of democracy—this combination of universality and individuality—and the life that animates it is intelligence. Reason not only unites all mankind into one intelligent species but also negates that undifferentiated 230 C. SCALFARO

sameness of interchangeable human units which—often parading in the guise of a “people’s democracy”—constitutes a denial of true democracy. (p. 34)

For Phenix, education, which is democratic and universal, is founded upon the nurture of intelligence and should be socially oriented and focused on an awareness of individual differences among society. It is important to recognize the ways Phenix is perceived from within the educational field, particularly by the field of curriculum.

Placing Phenix as a Curricularist

Curriculum scholar William H. Schubert (2002) delegated three branches of scholarly writing styles that contributed to the field of curriculum: intellectual traditionalists, social behaviorists, and experientialists. Intellectual traditionalists hold to the classical style of Seducation, privileging particular subjects such as grammar, mathematics, music, speaking, exposure to “great” literature, and philosophy.F These areas of study were thought to “cultivate the mind, harvest virtue, and reap the full person” (p. 6). O The second branch, social behaviorists, relied on the tenets of the scientific method. Based on the techniques foundO in the natural sciences, social behaviorists meticulously labor to achieve validity and conclusive3 evidence to problems. In this way, social behavioristsR saw themselves as researchers working in a laboratory. TheyP analyzed data, constructed1 hypothesis, measured variables, and quantified statistical outcomes.0 If a teacher wants to know why a student failed her test, all she needs to do, according to the social behaviorists, isP plug in the variables2 and run the experiment. The third branchA of curriculum study is the experientialists. This group operated onI the premise that ©if education is about the growth of the individual and the betterment of society, then a certain degree of ethical fortitude must be central. Schubert (2002) explains that teachers should not simply consider how students learn best but why, where, what, and with whom they learn. Headliners included John Dewey and the “golden age” of the Progressive Education era of the 1920s and 1930s. The Deweyan way of education spotlighted “child-centered curriculum” and “education of the whole child” as the primary commitments to teaching and learning. Like the social behaviorists, the experientialists relied on methods as the fundamental process of organizing content or substance of learning in order to make it relevant to students. Methods are the vehicles that transport the curriculum from idle words in a book to comprehensible capsules of knowledge. Therefore, the study of the learner and the process by which curriculum is delivered are the keys to teaching. In Pursuit of the Common Good With Philip Phenix 231

Of Schubert’s (2002) three approaches to curriculum study mentioned above, Phenix fits in the experientialist camp. He looks at the problems from a whole-to-part point of view. For example, he contests that the central problem of curriculum planning is not just a school issue but a significant concern to all of society. When considering what should be taught in school, Phenix argues that individual subject areas and personal preferences are not pertinent reference points when deciding on a curriculum, rather the whole of civilization is the indicator of choice in the curriculum. From his perspective Phenix states “everyone needs education to make good his membership in the common humanity” (p. 35). The responsibility he attaches to education and educators is sizeable as well. It is the moralistic educational process, or the pursuit of truth as Phenix foresees it, which is the primary way of creating and sustaining a healthy democracy in addition to teaching values and a sense of morality to its citizens. S Moving Forward With Phenix F For Phenix (1977), the term “moral” refers to purposefulO conduct based on the consideration of values (p. 4). This is central to the curricular question of “What should be taught in school?”O Classic texts are classic because they are able to transcend generationsR and somehow still find3 a place in our hearts and in our lives. For Phenix, the reason for utilizing classic texts— and all other subjects within Pthe curriculum—is to teach1 students how to understand and confront the major problem areas0 in modern life (p. 4). I think back to myP high school American2 literature class, and how I begged my teacher, whom I will name “Mrs. Cherry,” to explain to me why we had toA read Poe or Hawthorne. Mrs. Cherry was a cheery, rosy- cheeked teacherI who loved both© her students and the subject she taught. However, to my former self, a 16-year-old kid, these authors had been dead for centuries and offered little relevancy. In effect, I had failed to make the connection between the written word and myself, between the word and the world, or between the world and myself. I cheated myself by not allowing “The Raven” to enter through the window of my soul or to feel the warm embrace of Hester Prynne. It was only through my own ambition, later in life, did I (miraculously) decide to engage the literature. This is the conundrum of subject content and child development in schools: getting it through to the student at a point in time when she or he is ready. Once it has been decided by the powers that be what knowledge is of most worth and when it should be taught, then it is up to a great teacher to deliver it. And in cases like my own, in terms of my readiness for literature, even that is not enough. 232 C. SCALFARO

Curriculum theory, according to William Pinar (1977), is “a form of autobiographically informed truth-telling that articulates the educational experience of teachers as lived” (p. 35). Here, the emphasis is on the subjective experience of the existing individual. Pinar writes that the individual should engage the curriculum and make it one’s own. As we reflect on the educational experiences in our lives, we create a new space for learning. This is the essence of currere; the method of currere “seeks to understand the contribution academic studies makes to one’s understanding (and vice versa), and how both are imbricated in society, politics, and culture” (p. 45). As we contemplate currere, we see that—in addition to selecting knowledge worth knowing and finding teachers with a passion for empowering students – it is ultimately the choice of the student to grasp the knowledge and make it her or his own. Phenix writes with clarity and function in mind and I believe he would agree with Pinar’s notion of currere. Phenix (1977) states that a democratic education should incite the practice of “sustained inquiry and the arts of sincere persuasion”S (p. 7). Through inquiry a reflective learner generates understanding, makes connections to one’s own life, and resolves Othat whichF is “good.” What is a “Common Good?” O Phenix (1977) believes in a “commonR good,” a place 3or a situation in which satisfaction is maximized and destructive conflict is minimized. A fully functional democracy is Pa means of organizing in1 such a fashion so as to promote the optimal harmonization of desires.0 Phenix argues that since a “common good”P can be defined it2 should be our highest priority to attain it. Phenix divides Education and the Common Good: A Moral Philos- ophy of the CurriculumA into four central themes to illustrate how to achieve what is goodI: democracy, economics,© science, and religion. First, democracy is the end goal of all citizenry. Phenix, like John Dewey before him, believed that democracy is not merely a form of government or political structure but rather a mode of operation in all aspects of life. In a democracy, the power is not held by a select few based on their birthright but rather democracy is embodied within all citizenry. In the United States, we operate as a democratic republic wherein citizens have the duty to elect delegates who represent or voice the interests of the people. Second, economic life encompasses the production, distribution, acquisition, and utilization of a limited supply of goods and resources. Phenix (1977) labels “the economic man” as one who concerns himself with the acquisition of commodities and goods for his own satisfactions. Knowledge is considered a commodity and intelligence is viewed as a tool for gain. The emphasis on obtaining a quality education then, is not only In Pursuit of the Common Good With Philip Phenix 233 a privilege, but also a duty. A responsible citizen should value education as a specific possession, one that will allow an individual to navigate the challenges and obstacles of a progressive society. Third, science is viewed as a means for discovering truth. Through the use of science and technology we can find all the truths that have been hidden from us, for example, by creating new medicine to help those who are sick, by relying less on nonrenewable forms of energy as a means of powering our transportation, and by discovering innovative ways to make the world “smaller” and strengthen global communications. Science is of value because of its precision and universality; personal computers get faster and can handle stringent workloads at the same time they progres- sively become lighter and smaller in size. Fourth, religion is the end game of a democratic state. To Phenix, humanity’s guiding theme is that the primary reason for education should be conversion from the self-centered striving for advantage to a life of loyal dedication to excellence. Phenix (1977) uses the term “religious”S to signify the attitude and practice of sincere devotion to what is supremely worthful (p. 237). A religious person, according to Phenix,F is one who in intention and in deed is devoted to the supreme, the infinite, the perfect, the true, the completely excellent, regardless of words,O acts, or institutions through which one expresses dedication. Phenix (1977) titles his last chapter “Religion.”O For him, religion is the ultimate value, the ultimate reasonR for democracy. As mentioned3 above, “religious” refers to the attitude and practice of unimpeded devotion to that which is “supremely worthful.”P This is the link1 that must be understood when Phenix ascertains a comprehension0 of the common good. As much as democracyP is a way of life to Phenix,2 it is also a spiritual form of metacognition. It’s not so much spiritual in a sense of a conversion to a specific religiousA sect or denomination, but spiritual in that “what is meant is theI inner transformation© of purpose and motive from self- regarding irreligion and the idolatrous service of limited goods to reverent service of the most high” (p. 242).

Democracy of Desire and Democracy of Worth

Two central ideas are visited often throughout the Phenix’s (1977) text: “democracy of desire” and “democracy of worth.” Phenix suggests that a democracy of desire is the outlook one has when one is seeking fulfillment through personal desire. It carries a connotation of self-absorption and a reliance on individuality to provide for oneself rather than defer- ring to others. In opposition to the democracy of desire is “democracy of worth,” which deemphasizes the self and promotes the other. In this con- 234 C. SCALFARO struct, Phenix suggests that every individual is expected to seek her own interests, while simultaneously, to collaborate with others in forms of social organization that will enable everyone to gain what she desires without interfering with the corresponding pursuits of others, and also to increase her own and others’ satisfactions by such joint efforts. Heuristi- cally, Phenix compares a democracy of desire and a democracy of worth to categorize democratic outcomes within individual chapters, for example, around the areas of recreation, manners, and health. The premise of each chapter of Education and the Common Good is to methodically and deliberately prescribe how various daily aspects of our common lives should contribute to a thriving democracy, especially one devoted to cultivating a democracy of worth. A concrete example of this process can be found in the chapter titled “Work”; here Phenix (1977) considers what our motives should be when seeking employment. According to the democracy of desire, the goal of work is for the individual to be successful at whatever cost. Success,S in turn, provides citizens with the things they desire. Money is the ultimate motivation and maximum effort is applied to gain and accumulateF it. Earning a paycheck is the only value in work. No other factor enters into the work equation: not love, pride, care, or fulfillment. PhenixO argues that because we have positioned work as a means of acquiring mere things, our culture is in peril. O However, those who value worth aheadR of desire realize a3 different meaning to work. Instead of focusing on the desired ends of wealth, work is depicted as one’s moral duty toP uphold. The decision 1to work is not in question; everyone should work. The choice of what 0profession a person should be a part of should Pbe determined by interest2 and passion rather than by monetary factors. Work is not done because of a lust for money but for the opportunity ofA expression and creativity—just like most teachers I know! The productI of one’s labor is not© without value; rather it supports the greater good and is a source of intrinsic value and meaning making. As I read Phenix’s allusion to work, I cannot help but envision a colony of hon- eybees or worker ants. These determined little creatures do not leave me with the impression of self-promotion or individuality but efficient colonial preservation and universal reproduction. As a teacher, I try to cultivate this need for a greater good in my students and contribute to it as a professional person committed to work as means for achieving a democracy of worth.

My Student Teaching and Construction of “Good”

In the next two sections I will share stories I hope will differentiate Phe- nix’s constructs of a democracy of desire and a democracy of worth. In the In Pursuit of the Common Good With Philip Phenix 235 first example, I will show how my construction of “good” coincides with Phenix’s democracy of desire. In the second example, I will use “Mrs. Bee” to illustrate another example of a window into his democracy of worth. Phenix (1977) writes, “Under the democracy of desire, education is governed by the twin principles of self-realization and social accommoda- tion” (p. 24). Here, that which is considered “good” and “right” are directly dependent upon people expressed through customs and through the activities of a culture. Here, I define “good” by the ways in which the social is acting upon me. In the following example, notice how Phenix’s democracy of desire is represented and the ways I construct that which is “good.” Currently, I am working with preservice teachers as they prepare to embark on their journey into student teaching. It’s an exciting time for them as they begin to think about their potential roles and placements. I can’t help but reflect on my own student teaching and how it Spertains to this chapter as I consider the question: “What is good?” I was placed in a high school in the town of “Wordsworth.”F Most townspeople would agree that Wordsworth is somewhat of a hybrid-town, more rural than suburban, but not fully one or theO other. Its downtown has a mid-20th century feel complete with numerous businesses that include everything from a natural health pharmacyO to a hardware store to a jeweler to an antique store to a bakery. However,R it is Wordsworth’s3 school district that is the heart of the town. It is its largest employer and services upwards of 5,000 students. School sports,P both boys and girls,1 are a source of pride for Wordsworth’s residents. 0 As it would happen,P I was placed with2 a teacher who also served as a varsity coach, “Mr. Ulry.” Mr. Ulry, a veteran teacher of seven years, was a soft-spoken, fairA man, and because of his hulky physical stature, student confrontationsI were hardly ever© an issue. He was also a graduate of Wordsworth High School and a star athlete so he had many connections to students’ families and he had an extensive understanding of the local area as well. He taught no less than three courses: Accounting I, spreadsheet software, and word-processing, all of which I would eventually “take over.” During my student teaching assignment, every morning before school in his office or classroom, as I was clearing the sleep from my eyes, Mr. Ulry and I discussed our (mostly his) daily plans and expectations. As he explained the plans, I was trying to “read” his words as well as his body language, his facial expressions, and his reactions to my questions and comments. As this discussion took place, I was constructing what “good” teaching should look like from the perspective of Mr. Ulry. As I stepped into the classroom for the first time as a hybrid-being, not fully student and not fully teacher, yet fully both, I felt the gaze of young eyes 236 C. SCALFARO upon me. Though they had been introduced to me weeks before, this was the first time I would address the students as their teacher, a person of authority. I felt them sizing me up, as if looking for weaknesses, or chinks in my armor to exploit. Fortunately for me, Mr. Ulry usually stayed in the room for at least the beginning half of the class and acted as a lion, ready to pounce should the need arise. Because of this, discipline and control were never an issue, which allowed me to focus more on “delivering” the lesson plan or “transmitting” knowledge. However, I knew this was not necessarily what “good” teaching was; I was committed to the students’ “whole” education. As I assigned in-class projects for students to work on, either individually or in groups, I made the concerted effort to ask the students what they found worthy or not about the tasks given to them or my teaching style in general. As these discussions took place, I was constructing what “good” teaching should look like from the perspective of the students. As with any student teacher, I was assigned to a supervising teacher from the university, “Mrs. Sunshine.” Mrs. Sunshine was an energeticS and encouraging woman who spent many years as a classroom teacher before moving on to the university. She was particularly skilledF in setting clear goals for her students (both in her previous work as a classroom teacher and at the university). I knew this because this wasO one of the concerns she had with my undeveloped teaching style: I wasn’t setting clear daily objectives and benchmarks for the students toO reach. Over the course of my student teaching, we discussed specificR strategies and3 methods for improvement in this area. Mrs. Sunshine was a master at employing, what I will call, “the sandwich method,”P in discussions of my1 improvement. She started by telling me a positive facet of my teaching,0 followed by a facet of concern, and concludedP with another 2positive. I think the sandwich method was effective because I never got the feeling that I was “failing” as a student teacherA or doing a “bad” job, but simply that I had areas of improvementI to pursue, at least© accord ing to Mrs. Sunshine. As this discussion took place, I was constructing what “good” teaching should look like from the perspective of Mrs. Sunshine. “Learning to teach—like teaching itself—is always the process of becoming: a time of formation and transformation, of scrutiny into what one is doing, and who one can become” (Britzman, 1991, p. 8). My student teaching was successful because I was able to meet—at least up to my standards—the expectations others placed upon me. I satisfied the divide between “good” and “bad” teaching in accordance with those whom I felt I most impacted. Because of this, I look back on that bizarre hybrid time with great fondness. I enjoyed this process of growing autonomy, the process of “becoming;” I was excited for any event that awaited me in the future. The confidence and self-assurance I gained during this time directly fostered a sense of worth within me, which I believe ultimately In Pursuit of the Common Good With Philip Phenix 237 helped me to obtain my first classroom teaching position. Through dialogical discourse with Mr. Ulry, my students, and Mrs. Sunshine, I constructed a positive vision of myself and my teaching then, and in some ways I still carry this vision with me today. According to Phenix (1977), in a democracy of desire “each individual is expected to seek his own welfare and to cooperate with others in forms of social organization that will enable everyone to gain what he desires without interfering with the corresponding pursuits of others, and also to increase his own and other’s satisfactions by such joint efforts” (p. 24). From this perspective, my sense of success as a student teacher, at that particular moment, was more about my becoming a certified autonomous educator and less about a devotion to the greater good, or that which is excellent. Mrs. Bee and A Democracy of Worth S In a democracy of worth, Phenix (1977) tells us educationF is built upon and follows a value principle rather than “a principle of want-satisfaction” (p. 27). Teachers are not reduced to simply transmittingO facts, figures, and dates but are responsible for modeling important personal behaviors and inspiring learners to engage and adopt theseO behaviors into their own lives. Recently, I took the opportunity to have lunch with my second-grade daughter at her school. It’s a smallR time commitment but3 a special time and a great memory-maker! After lunch I walked Bella1 back to her classroom and said hello to her teacher,P “Mrs. Bee.”0 Mrs. Bee is in her 33rd year as an elementary school teacher; so she knows a thing or two about what is “good” in teaching.P Mrs. Bee greeted2 me with a warm and friendly smile and askedA me if I could stay for a bit to help with a class activity. I glanced quicklyI at my watch and© thought about the pressing obligations I had for the afternoon. “Sure, I’d love to,” I said. “I’m happy to help with the students’ lesson.” But it was I who would be in for the lesson this afternoon. Mrs. Bee’s topic of the day was fossils. The class was preparing for its field trip later in the week to a local park, which had lots of trilobites, bra- chiopods, cephalopods, and crinoids the students could search for. My job, along with a couple of other parent volunteers, was to prepare the components of the fossil creation project. This included mixing the Plas- ter of Paris and passing out leaves, among other things. As I was working with the other volunteers, one of them exclaimed how much her older son loved Mrs. Bee and still talks about her with delight several years later. “You know, Mrs. Bee is here until 7 or 8 o’clock each night and every weekend,” the other parent volunteer added. 238 C. SCALFARO

As we prepared the fossil exercise, I watched Mrs. Bee as she led the class. The students, sitting on the carpet, listened attentively as she showed them a picture of each fossil they would be hunting. Asking for participation along the way, Mrs. Bee captivated them with what they might find at the park. As a student began to stray off from her lesson and distract others, she gently persuaded him to turn his attention back to her. She knew that if other students in the class were attending to him, they were not hearing what she wanted them to hear. Mrs. Bee asked the students to head back to their seats where we, the parent volunteers, set up the Plaster of Paris fossil activity. Though it was messy and a little hectic to have all 26 students make fossil molds in the plaster, Mrs. Bee facilitated the project masterfully, providing helpful hints and encouraging words to the students (and the parent volunteers) as each created a perfect fossil. As I stayed around afterward to help clean up the activity (Mrs. Bee was singing a fossil tune with the students), my thoughts drew toS Phenix’s democracy of worth. Like Phenix, Mrs. Bee leaned on clear and functional methods to motivate her students. Like Phenix, Mrs.F Bee operates from an experientialist perspective. Each learner, myself included, followed Mrs. Bee’s specific lead—students moved fromO place to place, used scissors and markers appropriately for example, and parent volunteers distributed teaching materials on point; Owe all clearly understood the function of our roles. R 3 Mrs. Bee’s commitment to excellent was evident. She teaches the way she believes to be best for studentP learning—organizing1 a field trip, creating hands-on classroom activities, encouraging0 parent volunteers, singing songs, moving studentsP from place to place2 within the classroom. This takes a great deal of planning and determination (and even working into the evening andA on weekends). This isn’t easy! If Mrs. Bee wanted easy, perhaps sheI could have relied on© more traditional ways of teaching. On the process of education, Phenix (1977) writes, “Whether it be pleasant or painful, it needs to rest on the enduring foundation of loyalty to the good” (p. 111). Not only does Mrs. Bee foster a loyalty to the good on behalf of her students, but also on behalf of her parent volunteers as well. Volunteers, who operate in accordance with the common good and that which is excellent, certainly can help to promote a democratic classroom. In this way, Mrs. Bee demonstrates that she not only values learners—of all ages—around her, but through her actions, she models what others should value, too. Above, I have provided examples of what I consider to be consistent with Phenix’s democracy of desire and worth. However, I want to emphasize that the variable of age should not, necessarily, factor into the difference between the two. In my student teaching example, I tried to In Pursuit of the Common Good With Philip Phenix 239 emphasize and describe my position in the classroom, and my concern more with my personal circumstances and the advancement of positionality than on the students in my classroom, at that particular time and place. In a sense, I saw my student teaching experience more as a completion of a degree and a step in the process of becoming a teacher than on building an excellent classroom experience for my students. This is consistent with a democracy of desire. I think it is important to point out that a democracy of worth, as Phenix describes it, is not a destination or a crescendo, but a way of being, a pursuit of excellence—regardless of age. In the example of Mrs. Bee, I point out that she is a veteran teacher of 33 years, this is not necessarily a qualifier of excellence, but merely a detail into her description. Mrs. Bee, in her teaching, has shown a commitment to what Phenix would describe as good. For example, she creates a safe and inclusive classroom, creative and fun activities for the benefit of her students and so on. In the time I have been an educator, I have been fortunate to work with many young teachers—within their first fiveS years— who clearly exemplify excellence and a commitment to the greater good in their work. OF Complications With Phenix O As with any text, we should considerR the context and time3 from which Education and the Common Good was constructed. We should also consider the style of which Phenix writes.P I believe he operates1 from what Bakhtin (Britzman, 1991) calls an authoritative discourse,0 where the reader or “the one perceivingP and understanding this2 discourse is a distant descen- dent; there can be no arguing with him” (p. 21). For example, Phenix (1977) acknowledgesA that regulations in family and in school can be used as a basis forI developing a high© concept of law, when they are presented as approximations to right (p. 215). He continues that the law should “not be of an arbitrary impositions, not as expressions of superior power, not as absolute rules which can never be modified” (p. 215). The question is what is the basis for deciding what is an “approximation to right?” Who is deciding and how do we assess the validity of the law? This is particularly evident in his chapter “Sex and Family Life” where Phenix lays out his claims as to what constitutes a “self-forgetful dedication and joyful responsibility” (p. 147) to the ideal of family. Sexual relationships are to be only between husband and wife, not outside the marriage, and primarily utilized as a means of procreation (p. 154). The problem here with Phenix, if you disagree with his position, is he begins to impede on the tension between order and freedom. Classic conservative author Russell Kirk (2008) defines order as the harmonious 240 C. SCALFARO agreement of classes and functions, which guards justice and obtains willing consent to law and ensures that we shall all be safe together. In this sense, freedom is a by-product of order. Until order has been established, freedom cannot be enjoyed. Phenix (1977), not only in his chapter “Sex and Family Life,” but arguably throughout the text, writes from a perspective that would suggest he is more of a proponent of order and less of freedom. His allegiance to order gives the impression that he is rigid and unwilling to tolerate a “truth” different from his own. Phenix openly rejects notions of freedom as individuals doing what they want or pursuing one’s own good in one’s own way. Phenix’s values are the messages he is broadcasting to his audience. In every chapter of the book his personal perspective, biases, beliefs, and tendencies are packaged and delivered in a tight, concise, and comprehensible manner that forces the reader to vehemently answer, “Yes!” or causes one to scratch his or her head and ask, “Why?” or even shout, “No!” Dewey (2010) tells us that any theory of values is open to criticism.S Criticism, according to Dewey, is discriminating judgment and careful appraisal— judgment is appropriately termed criticism wherever the Fsubject matter of discrimination concerns goods or values (p. 398). It is important to recognize that what Phenix values in 1961 may or may notO be what he or anyone else would value presently. Values are as unstable as the forms of clouds; according to Dewey, good things change andO vanish not only with changes in the environing medium but also with changes in ourselves3 (p. 399). Phe- nix (1977), in his concordance with Rpragmatists, warns against dogmatism and absolutism and recognizesP the dynamic nature1 of human existence. While at the same time, he warns that if we undervalue0 certain values then we are not shaping democracyP to its fullest.2 Phenix (1977), on the other hand, writes that pragmatists such as Dewey tendedA to swallow up values, so determined to banish fixed traditional codesI of value and so absorbed© with the methods of reconstructing them that the transcendent ground and goal of the moral enterprise are obscured. He continues, that in the conduct of life and the guidance of learning we need a firm commitment to truth and goodness, which men and their processes “subserve” but do not create (p. 12).

My Lasting Impressions of Philip Phenix

Phenix brilliantly and beautifully writes with tremendous insight and understanding into a complex and exhausting subject matter—curriculum theory. And despite some complications with Phenix, his convictions about individual excellence and committing to a common good is com- mendable and worthy of our pursuit. For the common good of humanity, In Pursuit of the Common Good With Philip Phenix 241 our expectations for each other and ourselves should be greater. Our chief concern should not be solely the responsibility of ourselves, but we should be responsible for others. Phenix (1977) writes, “[Students] must also be taught the lesson of conscience that with respect to the uses of nature each person is his brother’s—and his children’s and his children’s children’s—keeper” (p. 132). We should strive to inspire and challenge others and ourselves to discover what it is that we enjoy doing to make our society better. For Phenix, our lives shouldn’t be measured by our bank accounts, our material possessions, or the praise given by others, but rather we should seek to work with and for others, not above them. In this chapter, I have tried to use specific characters in education to illustrate Phenix’s democracy of worth and to show that such a way of life is not impossible to achieve. I have tried to show how Phenix’s constructs and ideas are not only important for a time gone by but to look at Phenix as a window into the future. For educators, hopefully, Phenix rings true. Educators recognizeS that, as a profession, education doesn’t seek immediate dividends or material profit. It is not about self-promotion and personal expansionF and/or privilege through the capitalization of others. Education shouldn’t be about the technical analyses of test scores and data Otransmission. Teaching should be more than the function of identifying and sorting as a means to sustain the educational institution rather Othan the actual education of a student. Phenix (1977) emphasizes Rthat education should 3not be about the “life-destroying struggle to get and hold” but instead about the cultivation of devotion to the reverent pathP of life-giving virtue (p.1 14). Becoming educated is about discovering how life can be fulfilling0 and worthful. In a democracy of worth,P education is about 2helping students define what is valuable. For Phenix, value is seen as not what gives pleasure, either in the short term orA beyond, but as “what evokes continuing self-transcending dedication”I (p. 27). This is, Phenix© continues, is “the only way life can supply the directives and energies for regenerating and advancing civilization, the meanings required for healthy life individually and in association, and adequate foundations for teaching and learning” (p. 27). Phenix provides us, in education and beyond, a consummate reminder of where our responsibilities should lie, not solely to the interests of the self, as in a democracy of desire, but to the continual commitment of our fellow citizens. Phenix is as relevant today as he was in the mid-20th century; his message is clear and concise. If he were with us today, he would proclaim that schools shouldn’t hide behind the veil of standardized tests and curricula, which boast value-free content, but that value in schools is exactly what is lacking. Values, to Phenix, aren’t differentiated and segregated and cat- egorized, but they are universal and real. In Education and the Common Good, he sets out not to recommend any set of particular values, but to establish 242 C. SCALFARO the fundamental principle that there is a common good and there are values worthy of our devotion.

REFERENCES

Britzman, D. P. (1991). Practice makes practice. Albany, NY: State University of New Yo r k . Dewey, J. (2010). Experience and nature. New York, NY: Kessinger. Kirk, R. (2008). The roots of American order (4th ed.). Wilmington, DE: ISI Books. Phenix, P. H. (1977). Education and the common good: A moral philosophy of the curriculum. Westport, CT: Greenwood Press. Pinar, W. (2012). What is curriculum theory? (2nd ed.). New York, NY: Routledge. Schubert, W. H. (2002). Curriculum books: The first hundred years (2nd ed.). New York, NY: Peter Lang. FS OO PR 13 P 20 IA © CHAPTER 15

WINDOWS OF SUCCESS WITH AFRICAN AMERICAN STUDENTS Inspiration From Kohl FS J. MILLS Jennifer MillsO O Introduction R 13 Sometimes life gets in theP way. Certain life constraints kept me from completing this chapter on time. But I wanted0 to share this snapshot of my personal and professionalP journey and2 hope that you will stop to reflect on just how it is we that we might overcome the constraints of knowledge andA action that keep us from serving all students with excellence and Iequity every day in every© classroom across this land. If there ever were a window to open to “the other side,” it would be the one that takes us beyond the status quo for minority students in schools and into a new era of hope, possibility, justice, and excellence for all. Do we have the courage, know-how, and commitment of purpose to step through that window, like Herbert Kohl did so many years ago? Don’t students not deserve as much?

Curriculum Windows: What Curriculum Theorists of the 1960s Can Teach Us About Schools and Society Today, pp. 243–247 Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved. 243 244 J. MILLS

Reflections on Kohl’s 36 Children and Teaching Today

A few years ago a local school district gave me permission to observe several classrooms; in one particular setting, I got to see an expert craftsman of teaching, Mr. Daniels, make his classroom buzz with excitement and learning. As I walked toward his classroom one day, I could see the students were jumping around while counting by 5’s. I slipped in quietly and took a seat. A couple of students waved quietly, trying not to lose focus. There was so much energy for learning in the room. This is a kindergarten class, but they seemed to be engaged (especially since they are jumping around) and they appeared to be having lots of fun. The walls were littered with student work and everything else from dinosaur Fatheads to posters of leaders in history. There was even a poster of Lebron James that stated, “You don’t want to be like me, be better than me,” which even I found inspiring. There were a few different areas in the classroom where books and toys were plentiful. The desks were arranged in groupsS of four. The students knew each other and worked together well.F Mr. Daniels constantly gives the students positive feedback and support. No one seems to be withdrawn or uncomfortable. TheyO all seem to love the way their teacher teaches them and gives them each a fist “pound” or “high-five” as they answer correctly or doO something positive. They are very affectionate and the teacher and students openly exchange words like, “I love you” every now and then—andR no one seems uncomfortable3 with it. It presents a feeling of acceptance.P It is clear that the 1students are happy in this setting. 0 Mr. Daniels uses rap music to reach the students! His classroom is predominantly Black withP three White students2 who also seem to love the musical learningA activity. Mr. Daniels wrote a “phonics song” that teaches the studentsI the sounds each letter© of the alphabet makes. They seem to love it! Every student gets up dance and rap to the phonics song. Even Mr. Daniels was dancing!

******

Herbert Kohl (1967) was both a teacher and a writer. At the start of his first year of teaching in Harlem in the 1960s, he was still young, but not inexperienced. However, his prior teaching experiences had been primarily with privileged, white students in the city. His primary purpose for writing 36 Children was to show both the abilities and the needs of urban schoolchildren; in his writing and stories of his teaching and the students’ classroom life, Kohl displays their skill, passion, and potential, but also reveals their weaknesses—their need for emotional relationships and con- Windows of Success With African American Students 245 nections, especially with adults. Not only does Kohl describe the children and the day-to-day events that took place, but he also includes actual examples of the children’s writings, drawings, and poems. He writes the majority of the text in a personal narrative, going for the most part chronologically through the school year. 36 Children deals with many issues surrounding urban education; Kohl uses his personal experience to confront the implicit racism and poverty of urban public schools. He addresses the difficulty of teaching students who haven’t slept because of the drunks outside their apartment building, the challenge of preventing these children from turning to the streets like everyone they’ve ever known, and the racism within the school itself. These issues, more than over 40 years later, remain among the top challenges and concerns in urban public education. In addition to dealing with important issues in teaching, learning, curriculum, and education in urban public schools, Kohl captures the intelligence of the children that society almost always writes off as hopeless. Kohl’s method of teaching shows hisS respect, understanding, and admiration for the children and what they had to offer. This book is not only a study of urban education but also anF account of the lives of these Harlem children. Kohl also criticizes conventional teaching methods in his recounting. He connects his initialO frustration and failure with the children to his inflexibility and adherence to traditional structures, especially his fear of moving away fromO what today we might call a traditional, teacher-centered classroom. As soon as he gives3 the children freedom and shows his confidenceR in them, their relationship and their performance begin to change,P and Kohl makes a strong1 case for a teaching style based on human connection and student0 action by showing the connections with academic success and learning.2 Kohl’s success contributes greatly to the prospectsP and hope of improving the quality of urban education andA the lives of its children. His unconventional approach yielded encouragingI results. The© success Kohl had with his students is a direct reflection of care in the classroom. Kohl’s story advocates for more personal teaching methods and the need to connect with children’s outside lives to prevent them from turning to the streets. 36 Children is relevant over 40 years later in this era of standardized testing, impersonal schools, and mistrust. Kohl conveys his message effectively through his emotional yet informative account of his experience. The teacher described in the introduction uses rap/hip-hop to help his students remember important academic rules or concepts. Although his students are only 6 years old, they have the ability to memorize their favorite “rap” song and recite it during classroom instruction. The teacher has taken what many on first blush might call a “disruption” and turned it into something useful and positive, all the while connecting with 246 J. MILLS student interest and motivation. He has personally written hip-hop songs for his students that have catchy choruses and educational lyrics. Last school year, a local producer created music and a playful but rhythmic beat to accompany the lyrics written by the Mr. Daniels. The school recorded the best student voices as leads and used the rest as background. The song titled “We’re the Best” was recorded and a video was created so the students could have a keepsake. This song helped boost the school’s motto, “Anything less than your best is failure.” The students not only had a blast learning how their favorite hip-hop song could be produced and recorded, but they also got the chance to put what they learned into action (with the help of the teacher and producer) by participating in the creation of the “class song” and video. Even now, Mr. Daniels has written more hip-hop songs including the “Phonics Song” which help the students remember the sounds the letters of the alphabet makes. He has also written a song titled “Show Me Five!” which describes five behavioral goals for students in the classroom,S at home, and in public. These songs have not only boosted the students’ motivation but have linked their classroom instructionF to the outside world, their world. Dr. Daniels has shown that using hip-hop in the classroom, especially through songs cocreated by Ohis students, is valuable even in the earliest childhood education years. This connection has left a lasting impression on his students, and isO evident in their enthusiasm to learn. And Mr. Daniels’ commitmentR to this type of 3learning in the classroom isn’t just a carrot, it’s an honest, humble nod to something the students actually value, theirP preferred mode of expression,1 one of their best means of communication. 0 Teachers are commonlyP limited by2 lack of funds, inadequate technologies, and demands of state standards and high-stakes tests. Educators wishA for studies that would give them additional ammunition for rallying theirI administrators to provide© digital tools and capabilities. They look for studies that describe how new literacies can help them address state standards and demonstrate how incorporating digital practices improves students’ academic attitudes, motivation, and achievement. While these desires may be beyond the scope of this text, they do provide an agenda for future collaborative efforts to explore new literacies in classroom settings. The successful, purposeful incorporation of hip-hop language helps children depict, express, and reflect their fledgling senses of identity; this type of approach is absolutely necessary for the successful connection among students, their teachers, and the institutions of school and society. It is an absolutely necessary window to open for students in the middle of their identity formulation, and those who even at the youngest ages—as a result of detrimental conflicts with context, culture, society, politics, and economics—struggle for liberation. Across the country we need to follow Windows of Success With African American Students 247 the leads of past reformers, and new pedagogues like Mr. Daniels, who meet students where they are, connect with them, and build on their strengths for success today.

REFERENCE

Kohl, H. (1967). 36 Children. New York, NY: New American Library.

CHAPTER 16

SUMMERHILL

A Call for Significance in a World of Irrelevance FS J. WEEDA Jocelyn WeedaOO Imagine sitting in an English countrysideR cottage looking3 through a window that overlooks a school—not your typical school1 with a building full of classrooms, bells ringing Pwith mostly dutiful students shuffling from one class to the next, students sitting in classrooms0 with teachers leading the lessons—but insteadP more camp-like2 in its structure with several buildings throughout the grounds including a tool shed, bunk houses with studentI Abeds, a main house, and several other buildings that will allow the students to decide the© experiences that will be part of their schooling. As you watch the children at this atypical school, you notice the absence of a schedule, students are engaged in several activities—some working together, others working on their own, some just playing and the adults are a part of the picture but not lecturing, disciplining, and calling all the shots. Students are curious, imaginative, engaged, and most of all happy. If the year is 1960, you may very well be looking at Summerhill, a school that was designed to not only educate, but based on the philosophical ideals of freedom and happiness, a school that is founded on the

Curriculum Windows: What Curriculum Theorists of the 1960s Can Teach Us About Schools and Society Today, pp. 249–266 Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved. 249 250 J. WEEDA principle that student voice should be honored, a school that was radical for its time and let’s be honest, radical for even the 21st century. Many will read the beginning of this chapter and think of a place that is idealistic, all sunshine, lollipops, and rainbows that cannot really exist, but in actuality Summerhill and other democratic schools really exist in this and similar ways. These schools give students “free-range” over not only the property, but also their education. This idea of a free-range childhood was coined by a former Summerhill houseparent, Matthew Appleton, and has sparked a movement today for parenting modeled after the freedom philosophy that is the hallmark of Summerhill. Many public school teachers will think this is an unattainable ideal in the structure of schooling today. In this chapter, it is my intent to show that Summerhill is a place where each child feels significant—as if they not only belong, but will be missed if not there. This is a critical element needed in today’s classrooms. As we explore this idea of significance, I will present a case of a former struggling student at my school who got lost in and by the educational system today, Slook at how the idea of Summerhill was formed by humanistic philosophy juxtaposed in a world that was not being operated in that way, examineF the controversy that Summerhill created then and now, scrutinize the focus of schools today, and finally explore the window that Summerhill canO invite each and every one of us to look through to consider possibilities of implementation in our own world. Summerhill is thought provokingO and provides us with an open window through which to view a society in which we honor3 each child as significant—an educational world Rdifferent than the ones we typically inhabit today. P 01 A Glimpse atA OneP Student Today 2 First, let’sI examine the real© case of Jacob, a former student at the school where I previously taught. Jacob was a young and enthusiastic sixth grader who was eager to graduate from elementary school to attend middle school so he could learn from a teacher who specialized in science; specifically he wanted to learn more about astronomy. He had taken in all the books, movies, and Discovery Channel shows about astronomy that he could get his hands on and was ready to learn from someone who shared his same interest. He ran into science his first day of middle school.

Jacob: Hi! I’m Jacob! I love astronomy and can’t wait to learn all about it! Teacher: Jacob, it’s so nice to meet you and I’m so glad to have a fellow scientist to share the next 3 years! Unfortunately, we don’t have astronomy in our Science standards this year, but Summerhill 251

you will learn lots of other exciting aspects of science. Astronomy will be here in no time! Please take your seat.

Jacob’s enthusiasm was crushed immediately, but he summoned the resolve to stick with science. Although Jacob had exhibited some anxiety issues in the past and school was not his strong suit, he did have a real interest in astronomy and knew he could hang on to learn more about it. He did not do well in most of his classes that year, but he did apply himself the most in science earned grades of Bs and Cs (record-high grades for Jacob). Jacob did learn the other aspects of science (ecology, chemistry, geology, etc.), but they didn’t interest him as much as astronomy. The next year, Jacob came back to his teacher again ready to learn, he hoped that astronomy would be in his near future.

Jacob: Is this the year that we learn about astronomy? Teacher: I know you are so excited to learn about astronomy,S Jacob. Astronomy is in our eighth grade standards. You are half way to eighth grade and we have an awesomeF unit in astronomy at the beginning of eighth grade. I know you will be shining star (pun intended) at that time!O

Jacob’s seventh grade year was very difficultO for him academically and emotionally. His grades dropped inR all his classes, including3 science. He began to withdraw from his classmates and started missing school on a weekly basis. Unfortunately, JacobP never made it to the1 eighth grade where astronomy awaited; he dropped out of middle0 school before the end of seventh grade. He hadP an anxiety disorder2 and had no real connection compelling him to stay in school. Jacob lost all sense of significance. Would it really matterA if he was at school or not? Against his parents’ and teachers’ desires, it wasI decided for Jacob’s© best interest that he be homeschooled for the rest of his secondary schooling years. We have since lost contact with Jacob and have the sincerest hope that he was able to be successful and most of all, happy. It would be naïve to think that just having taught Jacob astronomy would have rectified all that troubled him, but Jacob and his story still haunt me today. I wonder if part of the disconnect with school resulted from his experience with an inflexible curriculum born from a rigid system that fostered his sense of alienation from both the school and himself. Jacob spent 9 years in a system that did not value his voice and left him feeling powerless. What would have come of Jacob if he weren’t being educated in the age of standards and accountability where the content is prescribed by grade levels? What would have happened to Jacob if we would have just let him learn and nurtured his interests? What would have 252 J. WEEDA happened if we had given him the control over his own learning and allowed him to apply his knowledge? What would have happened to Jacob if he weren’t in a system that encouraged following the strict rules of a traditionalist, content-driven curriculum, instead of honoring the needs and voice of the student? What would have happened if Jacob went to school at Summerhill?

Summerhill

Imagine a school.... Where kids have freedom to be themselves; where success is not defined by academic achievement but by the child’s own definition of success; where the whole school deals democratically with issues, with each individual having an equal right to be heard; where you can play all day if you want to; and there is time and space to sit and dream … could there be such a school? S —A. S. Neill’s Summerhill (Summerhill Website,F 2004) Summerhill is a private, progressive school inO England that is still in existence today. It was founded by A. S. Neill in 1921 and is headed today by his daughter, Zoe Neill Readhead. The Oschool’s philosophy is based on happiness. At Summerhill, it is believed that happiness comes from personal freedom and student ownership.R A. S. Neill (1960)1 asserts,3 the aim of life is to find happiness,P which means to find interest. Education should be a preparation for life. Our culture has not0 been very successful. Our education, politics, Pand economics lead to war.2 Our medicines have not done away with disease.A Our religion has not abolished usury and robbery. (p. 24) At Summerhill,I classes are not© compulsory and at the heart of the school’s philosophy is the notion that only acts completed by self-motivation are worth doing. This is the core of freedom, not license to do whatever one pleases without thought. “Freedom means doing what you like, so long as you don’t interfere with the freedom of others. The result is self-discipline” (Neill, 1960, p. 44). Another important aspect of Summerhill is that there are weekly meetings to decide on community rules. Students run the meeting, discussing the welfare of all at Summerhill including rules, any infractions, and others’ concerns. Every member of the school (both adult and child) has one vote. In these meetings and in the school, children have the right to express themselves without judgment or punishment. The activities and classes that are available are determined by students and include free access to woodworking, art, and drama rooms. Summerhill was designed to invite its students to freely explore their own learning. Summerhill 253

How the Summerhill Philosophy Developed

The founder of Summerhill was Alexander Sutherland Neill. A. S. Neill lived in a time when children were mainly viewed as small adults that needed to be molded into productive citizens; however, there were emerging humanist voices that claimed the value of each person, and that children should be viewed as developing individuals. Neill was born in 1873 in Scotland when Victorian social values based on moral and religious doctrine dominated. As Neill was being educated in his own compulsory schooling by his Schoolmaster father, Sigmund Freud opened his own practice in Vienna to delve into the human psyche and personality. Freud established ideas of repression, transference, and psychotherapy that began to permeate the education world. When Neill graduated from the University of Edinburgh at age 14, John Dewey published an article in the School Journal that summarized his views of progressive education with an emphasis on giving students a command of themselves and onS building community. Just 2 years later, Neill was an apprentice schoolmaster himself in which his ideals of freedom, democracy, and hope Fbegan to form. Neill continued his education at Edinburgh University with a major in English Literature, as Freudian psychology was makingO a big push into education, and he joined an experimental school called King Alfred School as a new teacher, during which timeO Nietzsche’s focus on the powers of humankind and the act of valuingR individuals by questioning3 societal doctrines began to influence Neill’s own philosophy of education. Neill had worked with studentsP that were viewed1 as non-conforming within a typical school setting and decided to use0 a democratic framework that would allow studentsP to be free of coercive2 structures and allow for personal freedom. Under these conditions, students’ behavior changed drastically as Athey chose to participate in schooling and the school’s community forI the better. Neill wanted© to put these progressive ideals into practice for all students, so he designed a school built on a philosophy that emphasized the need for freedom and happiness. After World War I, Neill opened his first school in Dresden, Germany, in 1921. By 1927, Neill (1960) moved his school to Suffolk, England, where it still stands today: “We had one idea, to make the school fit the child” (p. 9). Neill was laying the foundation of Summerhill built upon humanist philosophies that had formed the framework for his thinking about schooling and the needs of children with freedom as its cornerstone. According to Suffange (1994), “Neill was neither a scientist nor a researcher, perhaps a philosopher, but above all a dreamer and idealist. He did not belong to one specific educational or psychological school of thought” (p. 2). As the school grew, Neill began publishing articles about his beliefs and opened Summerhill’s doors to observers. 254 J. WEEDA

As Hitler marched his way across the European continent, Neill (1960) encouraged freedom from within, believing that a student’s outward aggression was linked to inner hatred. “All crimes, all hatreds, all wars can be reduced to unhappiness” (p. 343). As Maslow’s hierarchy of needs came to be spoken across the field of psychology, Neill attended to students’ needs for love, belonging, and ultimately happiness by encouraging students to find their own path to truth with minimal societal repression. Students at Summerhill went to classes when they wished, expressed their emotions freely, and held weekly meetings to discuss the rules within the community, even as Neill wrote the book Summerhill in the late 1950s. In the 1960s, Neill’s book became popular in some American colleges and was discussed throughout teacher education classrooms, while the freedom school concept began. Some teachers and parents began talking about the need for their children not to be viewed as little adults, but valued for who they were as children. The Civil Rights MovementS fueled discussions on the meaning of equality, freedom, and democracy.F Just as these ideas were taking root, there were also critics of Neill’s approach; an argument against freedom began to take hold in someO groups. In Schubert, Schubert, Lopez, and Carroll’s (2002) Curriculum Books: The First Hundred Years (2nd. ed.), the authorsO discuss the 1960s as a decade of competition between humanism and the sciences being pur- ported by the intellectual traditionalistRs. According to Schubert3 et al., the group he calls “intellectual traditionalists” were rooted1 in the Greco- Roman classics with a focus onP the “basics” of the0 3 Rs and history. Within 10 years of the publication of Summerhill, a book was published that showcased the binary thatP Schubert et al. speaks2 of, Summerhill For and Against (1970). The book’sA purpose was to debate the pros and cons of Neill’s vision on Ieducation and childrearing.© Controversy brewed from the beginning, pitting two sides against each other. In this polarity of views, the intellectual traditionalists thought Summerhill did not honor the society that students were growing up in—a society that had rules, traditions, and mores. The intellectual traditionalists believed that all children should be molded in both character and mind to that which society holds acceptable. Many of those that honored the tradition and structure of society began to look at Summerhill as a bastion of heathens who had suc- cumbed to the evils of the world. During this time of social unrest, many curricular traditionalists argued that students craved structure, objectives to learning, and could only develop these in compulsory classrooms. “The aim of education is to give young people the intellectual tools which the race over the centuries has found indispensable in the pursuit of truth” (Rafferty, 2010, p. 13). Summerhill 255

On the other hand, support came from progressive educators who thought a Summerhill-type of community in regular school settings could honor the best in all students to transform themselves and possibly remake society as a whole. These educators, like John Culkin (1970), believed “Schools are for students. Everything else is just a means to an end, to be used or not used depending on whether or not it will serve the growth of students” (p. 29). Progressive scholars recognized the need to honor students’ passion and their need to create a world of their own. They argued that education doesn’t occur at the same time or in the same way for any child. Summerhill’s followers believed that creativity needed to be nurtured. A. S. Neill (1960) states,

The world is full of jobs that hold no intrinsic interest or pleasure. We seem to be adapting our schools to this dullness in life. By compelling our students’ attention to subjects which hold no interest for them, we, in effect, condition them for jobs they will not enjoy. (p. 164) S Neill lived, taught, and wrote during a time when the Fclimate was very structured and society ruled, but the voices of psychologists, humanists, and progressives were in the air influencing hisO and others’ thinking about the best ways to educate children. It was a time similar to today—a precipice of sorts—on the edge of an openO window. Window to Today PR 13 it is a race between the believers in deadness and the0 believers in life. No man dare to remainP neutral. 2 A —A. S. Neill (1960, p. 103) LookingI at education today, the© questions are overwhelming and their unfortunate answers are making the Jacobs of the world feel more insignificant. First, are schools today set up to disenfranchise students? Unfor- tunately, yes, high-stakes testing alienates children from real learning. Second, are schools meant to repress those that do not hold the key to navigate the hegemony of the culture? Unfortunately, yes, high stakes testing capitalizes on cultural capital and language that can only perpetuate a hegemonic structure, that is that a system without equity that rewards some and not others. Third, are the learning objectives purposefully set up to squelch the enthusiasm of the learner, like in the case of Jacob? Again, yes, because the higher the score does not equate to a better educational experience. Experiences cannot be quantitatively measured. Fourth, are we breeding passivity and distrust and are the No Child Left Behind and Race to the Top initiatives meant to sort rather than edu- 256 J. WEEDA cate students and schools? Once again, yes, these enacted policies set students up to be isolated and feel more like a number than a significant human being. Finally, are we as educators honoring society above the student? Yes, we as teachers are inundated by testing and new policies. We are so busy trying to meet all the mandates that we are losing our selves and sense of self-efficacy. In the process, students are lost as well. As an educator, this is so disheartening. Neither I, nor any of my colleagues, went into teaching in hopes of alienating and isolating students from learning, but I do know that happens to even the best of us. After 17 years of teaching, I can still get bogged down daily with the 282 standards (yes, that is the actual number of standards that students are required to know in the three years of middle school) that may be tested and for which I am told to hold students accountable to know in just one of four content areas tested. If it bogs me down, then I know it bogs students down, too. How can anyone hold on to 282 bits of information that they may or may not be tested on? I know it may be harsh,S but as I begin to recognize the system that is in place today, I believe that many students are held hostage and alienated by the processF of schooling— sometimes without the student themselves or their teacher even realizing it. I have justified such stifling of students by sayingO that they need to be prepared for testing because it will help them navigate the “real world.” I’ve rationalized by saying that I would neverO want any child to go into a situation in which they will be judgedR without preparing3 them ahead of time. I have watched silently (as I was instructed that I could not speak to any student) as a 10 year-oldP child cried during state1 testing because the directions said, “Read the selection and answer0 the questions.” We hadn’t used the word selectionP before and the student2 wanted to perform well but was unsure of what to do. We can say that is a bad test question or even a fluke, but theA reality is there is a lot of pressure that both students and teachers feelI to perform well ©on a 1-day test that will evaluate the worthiness of the child, teacher, school, and now, as some propose, even the institutions of higher education that prepare teachers! And these tests are not full proof, helpful, or adequate. But the stakes are high and tilted in favor of the system. Even with mistakes, the tests are unassailable. “America’s schoolchildren (are) pressed not to discover and cultivate their talents or understand the world they inhabit. Schoolchildren enrolled in today’s cram schools are pressed to do one thing: produce higher scores on high-stakes standardized exams” (Pinar, 2012, p. xii). I have come to believe that high-stakes testing is intended to maintain a hegemonic social structure in which only certain students can succeed. This process of standardization inherently excludes and sorts students. “Stan- dardized testing reproduces social and economic inequality…. Stripped of subjectivity and social purpose, standardized testing breeds cynicism, and Summerhill 257 not only among teachers” (Pinar, 2012, p. xii). Students who have the cultural capital, by being fluent in the language of the dominant culture and privy to the background knowledge of this culture, are the most successful on the test. If this weren’t true, we wouldn’t see the same students failing over and over again. What does this atmosphere of standards and high- stakes testing assume? Does it assume that this language and content knowledge are the best and most important knowledge to have? Does the test, by privileging certain knowledge, in effect quell any other knowledge? The curriculum of today is standardized in the hopes that each child will achieve the highest benchmark possible; the problem with this is that “Curriculum is characterized by educational experience, not test scores” (Pinar, 2012, p. xiii). The standards and the amount of coverage of material for testing by no means equates to the characteristics necessary to bring about educational experiences. Students need to be able to take time to delve deeply into a concept and make real connections with the content to their own lives. In today’s atmosphere these experiencesS are not prized. This atmosphere is what Pinar (2012) would call school deform “in which educational institutions devolve into cram schoolsF focused on preparing students for standardized exams” (p. xiii). The environment of schooling sets our students up to be consumersO of information or an audience that needs to be entertained. There are a number of resources and workshops out there that come as gimmicksO to trick students into learning, similar to how advertisers lure consumers to 3their products. These gimmicks have tried to teacher-proofR the curriculum by adding a cute video here and an activityP there to engage students.1 The problem is that often these aversions subvert and undermine0 the educational process with entertainment; students should have2 real reasons for learning. Deform schooling Ptoday breeds passivity, rather than the active, participatory Acitizens that our classrooms and wider communities need for the future.I © Fourth, through this process, students have become more and more isolated and disconnected from humanity and a sense of community. High-stakes testing and standardization dehumanize our children and make them into merely data sets to be intervened upon to create even more data to measure our educational system. Pinar (2012) criticizes that we are in a world “in which no child is to be left behind in a race to nowhere” (p. xiv). Students are becoming savvy to this and are, as Grace Lee Boggs (2011) notes, “voting with their feet against an educational system that sorts, tracks, tests, and rejects or certifies them like products of a factory because it was created for the age of industrialization. They are crying out for another kind of education” (p. 49). Finally, this system is negatively affecting our educators today. One of the greatest weapons of any oppressive system is the ability to take away 258 J. WEEDA a sense of self-advocacy. Educators today are feeling hopeless. They are also taken hostage in this movement of standardization. They spend so much time preparing students to navigate the testing world, that they have lost their own sense of agency. It would be a crime not to prepare students, but when we are slaves to the system, we are modeling that the system is the correct one. Because teachers and school districts are reeling to meet each new demand, they have no time to advocate against this system that oppresses and dehumanizes. We need to discuss the purpose of schooling, to realize that it is important to have conversations about curriculum, and to know that schooling of all our children is a just and paramount endeavor. Without these complicated and messy conversations, we will continue to propagate the structural injustices around us. As Pinar (2012) suggests, “we must act as if we can prevent the new catastrophe” (p. xvi). We must act until we believe that the future holds a different view for the Jacobs of the world. S Window to the Future F We, as educators, must have the courage and determinationO to redefine, reimagine, and renew our schools and education system. This paradigm shift must include a respect for children, a chanceO to welcome challenges as opportunities, and ignite our collective voice toward social justice and democracy. Summerhill was revolutionaryR in its time, because3 it encouraged people to look at children as just that, children, not 1as little adults merely preparing for the monotony ofP life. A. S. Neill shared0 his philosophies as a way to inspire parents and educators to focus on the good each child has to offer and to allow eachP child the time they2 need to blossom. The past can inform our practicesA today. Neill’s belief in the child has inspired me (and hopefully willI inspire you) to look© closely at my public school classroom and find those pieces that will make the Jacobs of the world feel more significant. I have taken the liberty of pulling five frames from the Summerhill window that shed light on Neill’s practices that are worthwhile to contemplate and implement in classrooms today. I believe these five critical frames (freedom, play, equality, community, and celebration) will help to move myself and my classroom forward. I hope they will help you to begin to ponder your classroom as well.

Freedom Freedom was the cornerstone of the success at Summerhill. For Neill, (1960) freedom was not license to do whatever one pleases, but freedom required responsibility for one’s self and one’s actions. Summerhill 259

It is this distinction between freedom and license that many … cannot grasp. In a disciplined home, children have no rights. In the spoiled home, they have all rights. The proper home is one in which children and adults have equal rights. And the same applies to school. (p. 107)

It is the ideal that in our democratic society, we have both rights and responsibilities. With every right or piece of freedom, we have the responsibility to own up to our part of making sure that everyone else’s freedom is being honored as well. With freedom comes sacrifice and compromise, but the goal for each child is self-regulation. Summerhill teaches that where there is freedom, there is an absence of fear. In our classrooms, it is important to remember that “fear should never be a pedagogical tool” (Hechinger, 1970, p. 43). Oftentimes students’ lives and experiences are not honored because those in power fear the loss of their own control. Fear can only limit a child. “It is much easier to live with children who fear you than with children who love you—that is, you have a quieter life. When they fear you, children give Syou a wide berth” (Neill, 1960, p. 130). On the other hand, acceptanceF does not mean license to do what you please at the expense of those around you. Neill emphasizes over and over that honoring theO individual is not about being reckless (letting a student do whatever he or she pleases when it could potentially harm others), but in havingO the child be the critical decision maker and the teacher as guide of the possible experiences3 at hand. Freedom allows a child to know Rthat his or her personal best is always good enough. We support andP cheer them on as they1 make each step of the journey themselves—being there for them, 0not doing it for them. This seems so simple; we allow small children to grow in this way, but when a child goes to schoolP we stop. Freedom allows2 a child to be wonderfully themselves. “TheA function of a child is to live his own life, not the life that his anxiousI parents think he should,© not a life according to the purpose of an educator who thinks he knows best” (Neill, 1960, p. 12). Allowing for freedom is the act of valuing the child. “Free children are not easily influenced, the absence of fear accounts for this phenomenon. Indeed, the absence of fear is the finest thing that can happen to a child” (p. 111). Neill believed that students should be encouraged to question and challenge rather than conform to the hegemonic structures within society. Freedom is scary. To allow freedom is to take a child and his or her interests seriously. It is to assume that a child has something to contribute to class other than being a receptacle of knowledge. Students will ultimately exercise their freedom. They truly have the control over whether to absorb the classroom information or not, to invest in schooling or not, to bring themselves to the process or not, and to check in or out of the classroom. As adults, we like to think that we have the control and the 260 J. WEEDA power in the classroom. It is when we realize that the true power is held by the students, that real learning occurs—not because it is forced but because they want to learn it. They have the right and need to exercise their freedom. They have the right to discover who they are and how they fit into this world—that cannot be learned without freedom. Summerhill was required by school inspectors to provide interviews of graduating students to prove that students learned despite their ability to choose their classes. The students were asked if they thought noncompulsory classes hurt them. One student, Susan, responded,

If we had compulsory lessons I would never have discovered that I want to be an actress, because I could choose to go to Drama. Going to lessons you enjoy really trains your brain to actually think for yourself and figure things out and have common sense. I don’t feel at all disadvantaged, in fact I feel advantaged because I know how to think for myself and work things out for myself. (Summerhill Website, Pupil Interviews, 2012) S Shouldn’t helping students think for themselves and gain a sense of self be the goals of education? These ends are what freedom andF trust inspire! Therefore, it is a teacher’s role is to move a child more toward his or her own freedom. It is our job to provide the scaffoldingO that allows a child to build herself, not to merely fill her with knowledge. This can only happen through love, respect, and understanding—andO in a school that is open, accepting, and not based on Rfear. “It is the environment3 that cures them—for the environment of Summerhill gives out trust, security, sympathy, lack of blame, absenceP of judgment” (Neill,1 1960, p. 284). Freedom nourishes a child from within. 0 So I start to questionP out loud, “How 2can I give students the chance to make decisions, express their feelings, and make important choices within the structureA of schooling that I have in my classroom?” This idea of freedomI feels very loose,© but I know when I have given the class over to the students, they have always lived up to or even beyond my expectations. I have allowed students to create the classroom rules, to teach lessons that were built on standards, and to follow their own interests when we learn processes such as creating timelines of a topic of their choice. These are the small steps that I have begun to take for freedom to develop in my classroom.

Play

In a free classroom, play is encouraged. Play is the way of childhood. Play is where all our hopes and dreams can come true. At Summerhill, schooling is actually optional, but learning about life is not. When you really think Summerhill 261 about it, many life lessons in childhood are learned during play. I can’t tell you one school lesson I learned in third grade—I am sure I learned many. However, I can tell you the lessons I learned from our third grade versus fourth grade kickball games at recess. I learned how to be part of team, how to use my keen observation skills to understand the next best play, how to cheer on my team, how to be okay with losing or being picked last, how to solve disagreements amicably, and how to set fair rules so all who wanted to play could. These are the lessons of play—both good and bad. Play in part can be fantasy. Have you ever taken a moment to watch a child in the throes of a fantasy world? They are uniquely themselves in the moment, using their intellect and creativity while being joyful, adventur- ous, and charming. In schools, if we have play, we often confine it to half an hour increments of time on rubbery surfaces that minimize the risk of harm. So, I begin to question and think out loud, What if students were given more opportunities to play throughoutS their day? What would play look like in my classroom? Would play have to involve being outside, or could play happen inside? Could I play moreF with ideas, ways of processing information, and motivate students by knowing that learning and play go hand and hand? O Play instills a sense of wonder about the Oworld, confidence in one’s self, and as Culkin (1970) writes “a senseR of non-sense” (p. 32).3 Many feel the school day should be all about the business of traditional learning. This means that studentsP should sit passively1 at desks and do work that their boss has given them without question.0 What if instead of this typical school Pscene, most of the students’2 day looked more like recess? Students would have time to explore and discover using their senses to buildA an understanding of the world around them. Through play studentsI can direct their own© learning, find ways to express themselves, and develop their creative thinking. Che-eun Park (2010) comments on her time at Summerhill in the school’s newsletter,

Being at Summerhill with all the freedom gave me a happy childhood. I could choose to do whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted and wherever I wanted to do it. I wasn’t forced to do anything but I did plenty. Running around, playing games, hanging off the arms of big kids and climbing trees. Eventually I grew out of those activities, started going to lessons and began taking some responsibilities in the community, which I did out of pure interest and joy.

Students should have more opportunity to play in the world around them, but also to play with ideas, concepts, and new skills. This would allow for students to be more willing to take risks in their learning, 262 J. WEEDA instead of worrying about a correct answer. Schooling should be experiential, imaginative, and stimulating—in other words, involve play!

Equality

Equality is not the belief that everything has to be fair or the same. Equality in schools comes in both opportunities and acceptance. Equality is not a one-size-fits-all concept, but an opportunity to take each learner from where he or she is to the furthest point possible. In Summerhill: For and Against, Ashley Montagu (1970) claims that, “A good teacher ministers to the unique needs and personality of each student, and enables that student to find and fulfill himself, and he treats each student as an individual in his own right and encourages him to develop his own uniqueness” (p. 55). Equality at Summerhill means that no one voice is more important than any other. This type of equality brings unity. In Neill’sS mind, all hate stems from self-hatred. In an environment where all are welcomed, there is no need to bully, stereotype, or repress others. F “At Summerhill we treat children as equals. By and large, we respect the individuality and personality of a child just as weO would respect the individuality and personality of an adult, knowing that the child is different from an adult” (Neill, 1960, p. 160). WithinO a school, this would mean that teachers would not be superiors to students,R but a person who3 works hand- in-hand with a student in the educational process. Teachers would “retain no protective dignity, no sarcasm.P They would inspire1 no fear. They would have to be men and women of infinite patience, able0 to see far ahead, willing to trust in ultimate Presults” (p. 287). Schooling2 in a place like this would allow for the best in all students, but it is also critical for students to understand that theyA do not live in a world that is structured similarly. Unfortu- nately, withinI our world, certain© types of people are valued more than others. Students need to be aware and critically analyze the reasons behind this type of inequality. We have to look no further than our own history to see this and then look closely at our society today. Understanding the society that you live in and the rules of today are crucial to becoming the problem solvers of tomorrow. Students do need to know and understand the framework of how to work in society, but as a means to being able to be change agents within it. They, too, can then begin to fight for their rights to freedom and equality within our democratic society. The major outcome from having equality in a classroom is having every member feel significant. Here again, I begin to question and think out loud, “How can I help every child feel that her own personal story is relevant? How can I include the diversity of thoughts and opinions in my classroom without privileging one over the other? How can I show my Summerhill 263 belief that every child’s voice, experiences, and presence matters in my classroom?” It is in this type of classroom that ethics and social responsibility can be cultivated. Equality fosters community.

Community

Summerhill is about community. Community is a place to belong that cares if we are not there. Community is a place and a concept through which we can be challenged and cherished. “We urgently need to bring to our communities the limitless capacity to love, serve, and create for and with each other. We urgently need to bring the neighbor back into our hoods, not only in our inner cities but also in our suburbs, our gated communities, on Main Street and Wall Street, and on Ivy League campuses” (Boggs, 2011, p. 47), and, I would contend, in our schools. At Summerhill, community is formed through a self-governing Sprocess in which students listen to the opinions of others and then decide for themselves the rules for their community. In this direct democracy,F every member of the community (child and adult) has one vote. There is not a top-down power structure in which age determinesO the amount of say someone has in the community. All are equal. Students are therefore more invested in being community participantsO because their vote does count. They feel as if they can make a difference and that is the 3first step in self- advocacy and the power to control theirR own lives. As I look to my classroom,P I emphasize that we1 are a community of learners. “A classroom is a place where a community0 of learners—as opposed to a collection of discrete individuals—engages in discovery and invention, reflectionP and problem solving”2 (Kohn, 1999, p. 3). Therefore as I think outA loud again, “How can I create the opportunities for each child to haveI an equal say in ©the decision-making process, especially regarding those decisions that directly affect their lives and learning?”

The chief non-family social setting of children … is the school. What better place to begin to give children the experience of democratic rule making, with all the trappings? Where better to learn the art of debate, the need for taking other people’s views into account, the benefits of open-mindedness, the balancing forces of personal and community interests, the nature of political power-blocs, the joy of victory and the anguish of defeat, the ability to recoup a loss and plan for further gain? (Greenberg, 1992, p. 112)

But, how to make this occur is not always as easy as it looks. It takes a deliberate effort by both the teacher and class to look at what their community needs. This takes time away from content learning, but not from real learning. When a child feels empowered in a classroom, he begins to take on the 264 J. WEEDA burden of standing up for himself and the other members of the community. The diversity and accomplishments of the group can be celebrated.

Celebration Celebration is a not a one-time event that occurs at the end of a school year, but is shown each and every day through the belief that each child is loved for who he or she already is. A child has to be believed in, cheered for, and celebrated to see his or her own potential as a crucial member within our society. The greatest present we can give to another human being is to truly see them, their potential, and to honor them as a human being. “Summerhill beckons children to “’Become who you are.’ The role of the teacher must be to nurture this delicate process by removing all obstacles to growth and by providing a context of love, respect, competence, and strength” (Culkin, 1970, p. 31). The celebration of who these students are is still seen at the present- day Summerhill. The students are encouraged to create plays,S webcasts, debates, newspapers, photo essays, and all types of authentic tasks. Stu- dents are able to take on their own real world problemsF to solve and engage in their own worthy investigations. If the students choose to have another student or a class or the school as an audience,O this is encouraged and their work is celebrated. Students and their needs are taken seriously. There is something about the authenticityO of student-initiated work that has a different energy to it than teacher-ledR activities at a 3typical school. Today I ask myself just what is that invisible energy that1 makes Summerhill so special? I have never seen P a man’s soul, never seen an angel, never seen radio or TV waves, and never seen the energy that0 flows through a small tribe on an island Pknown as Summerhill ...2 could it be love? Respect? Jus- tice? The question is out there ... if you think you know the answer ... then I’d love toI seeA your photographs!© (Russell, 2010, para 1) So What About Jacob? So what about the Jacobs of the future? How can one teacher simply meet the needs of all these children, so that one soul isn’t lost? I don’t know that there is a simplistic answer to this question. But I do know that the lived experience of Summerhill with its message of love should inspire those that work with and for children. I implore you to walk with me down a path that works to help each child feel worthy and significant—that they themselves matter. We need to work toward the ideal of happiness for each child. We need to accept Jacob, for who he is and not for whom he doesn’t measure up to be. We need to see and honor the child. We need to give time for self-exploration and play. We need to hear his voice and give him every opportunity to empower himself. We need to help students understand their society for what it is—a place in which they are growing Summerhill 265 up that must be understood and navigated but also a place where they can be cared for, especially through the important avenue of schooling. Summerhill has both challenged and invited me to deepen my commitment to education for students and to be an advocate for change for them. Using these five frames, I have been able to reclaim my own sense of agency by thinking about my classroom and students right here and right now. Neill’s philosophies frame windows of opportunity that can inspire all of us as educators to be agents of change. If we do not agree with a system, but do nothing to change it, in essence we are saying that we agree with the system. Institutional change can only come from within. It is time that teachers think about what they can do in their space, their classrooms, and then move out to form collaborations with others who are ready to cast off the chains of a system that is not working. “The social activists among us struggle to create actions that go beyond protest and negativity and build community because community is the most important thing that has been destroyed” (Boggs, 2011, p. 41). It is withinS these communities that real change can happen. Doing this takes a leap of faith and lots of trust. We must make the Jacobs of the worldF feel significant because they have a voice and stake in the conversation. We must open our hearts to the hope that the future holds and empowerO our students to embrace the power that they hold withinR themselves.O 3 PREFERENCES 1 Boggs, G. L. (2011). The next American revolution:0 Sustainable activism for the twenty-first century. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Culkin, J. M. (1970). JohnP M. Culkin. In Summerhill:2 For & against. New York, NY: Hart. A Greenberg, D.I (1992). Education in America:© A view from sudbury valley. MA: Sudbury Valley School Press. Hechinger, F. M. (1970). Fred M. Hechinger. In Summerhill: For & against. New York, NY: Hart. Kohn, A. (1999). The schools our children deserve: Moving beyond traditional classrooms and “tougher standards.” New York, NY: Houghton Mifflin. Montagu, A. (1970). Ashley Montagu. In Summerhill: For & against. New York: Hart. Neill, A. S. (1960). Summerhill: A Radical Approach to Child Rearing. New York, NY: Hart. Neill, A. S. (1970). Summerhill: For and against. New York, NY: Hart. Park, C. (2010, October). My time at Summerhill. Summerhill School Newsletter, Retrieved from http://www.summerhillschool.co.uk/newsletters/newsletter-11- 1.pdf Pinar, W. (2012). What is curriculum theory? (2nd ed.) New York, NY: Peter Lang. 266 J. WEEDA

Rafferty, M. (1970). Max Rafferty. In Summerhill: For & against. New York, NY: Hart. Russell, Q. (2010, April). Quincy Russell on the couch. Summerhill School Newsletter. Retrieved from http://www.summerhillschool.co.uk/newsletters/newsletter- 10.pdf Saffange, J. F. (1994). Alexander Sutherland Neill (1883 -1973). Prospects; The Quarterly Review of Comparative Education, 24, 217-229. Schubert, W. (2002). Curriculum books: The first hundred years (2nd ed.). New York, NY: Routledge. Summerhill Website. (2004). A. S. Neill’s Summerhill homepage. Retrieved from http://www.summerhillschool.co.uk/ FS OO PR 13 P 20 IA © CHAPTER 17

HIDE AND SEEK WITH PHILIP JACKSON The Hidden Curriculum in Life in ClassroomsFS K. WALDROP Kelly WaldropOO Hide and seek is a simple game. TheR seeker closes her eyes3 and counts. The other players hide. When the seeker is finished1 counting, she seeks, looking for those who have Phidden in the hopes0 of chasing them down and tagging them before they reach the designated home base. Simple. And yet, any child canP tell you, there are a2 many factors that can make the game endlessly complex. The field of play, for example, can have an enormous effectIA on the success ©of the players and is usually dictated, not as in many games by an attempt to maximize the skill of the player, but more often on the purpose of the game. Having been shooed outside by weary parents in search of peace on a beautiful summer day, the field of play becomes the wide open spaces of a backyard, the home base a tree in the middle of the yard, always visible by all players, a field of play that privileges those who are fleet of foot. Or, having been locked up inside, whiling away a cold and dreary December Saturday, the field of play becomes the twisted warren of the home’s interior, with home base the living room sofa, almost always out of sight of the seeker and hiders alike, a

Curriculum Windows: What Curriculum Theorists of the 1960s Can Teach Us About Schools and Society Today, pp. 267–285 Copyright © 2013 by Information Age Publishing All rights of reproduction in any form reserved. 267 268 K. WALDROP field of play that privileges those who pick crafty hiding places and have the fortitude to quietly wait out the other players. Likewise is education, as illuminated by Philip W. Jackson in his groundbreaking 1968 work, Life in Classrooms, incredibly simple yet infi- nitely complex. Its overt purposes are obvious, yet a multitude of factors outside the control of any of the players, whether they be students, teachers, or administrators, impact the ability of all involved to succeed in their various tasks. The contemporary reader, wading through page after page of Jackson’s sexist language, like the seeker rooting out the hiding, must ferret out that which Jackson intentionally illuminates for us along with that which is obscured to discover new ways to look at schooling and educational research.

Philip Jackson: Seeker of Educational Insight Philip Jackson is overwhelmingly viewed by those in educationS as a key figure. After earning his PhD in developmental psychology from Teachers College, Columbia University, in 1955, Jackson took a positFion as a professor of education at the University of Chicago, where he worked until his retirement. Jackson served over his career as chairmanO of the Depart- ment of Education, dean of the Graduate School of Education, director of the University’s Benton Center for CurriculumO and Instruction, and principal of the University’s nursery school.R He also held leadership3 positions in such organizations as the Center for Advanced Study in Behavioral Sci- ences, the National AcademyP of Education, the American1 Educational Research Association, and the John Dewey Society0 (Eisner, 2001). Jackson’s contributionsP to the field of2 education do not end with his tremendous leadership efforts, which are rather overwhelmed by a wealth of salient andA sagacious research and writing on what it means to educate and be educated.I Beginning with© his first major publication, Creativity and Intelligence (1962), which he wrote with fellow psychologist Jacob Getzels, Jackson began breaking new ground by attempting to illuminate the relationship between IQ and creativity (Eisner, 2001, p. 200). Jackson then became interested in studying and attempting to describe and explore the lived experience of the classroom. The studies he designed and carried out over the next few years in the University of Chicago’s Laboratory School culminated in what many consider to be his most enduring work, Life in Classrooms. With his following major works, The Teacher and the Machine, The Practice of Teaching, Untaught Lessons, and John Dewey and the Lessons of Art, Jackson continued his efforts to explore the richness of the educational setting as a place to discover new ideas and ways of thinking. Jackson would teach graduate students in Education by having them read seminal works by authors such as Aristotle, Plato, Dewey, Word- Hide and Seek With Philip Jackson 269 sworth, and Wittgenstein, and engage his classes in discussions about what the works, many of which not overtly concerning education, might have to say about the ways in which we teach and learn (Hansen, 1996, p. 133). Having read and reread Life in Classrooms, I was not surprised to learn that Jackson was influenced by Aristotle, since I detected in it a mindset similar to my own, as a teacher of writing and rhetoric. Jackson approaches the subject of the lived experience in the classroom as if he were deliberately applying Aristotle’s rhetorical triangle, where the argument, or in this case the classroom, is a complex web of the identities (for Jackson both the backgrounds and the physical selves), the emotions, and the intellects of the individuals involved within the context of the learning environment. Having come from a background where he was encouraged to focus almost exclusively on the intellect and within a field of education that focused almost exclusively on the intellectual aspects of the learning process, Jackson breaks all the rules of the game when he spends the entirety of Life in Classrooms focused on seeking out the physicalS and emotional factors of the teaching and learning process as they impact and are impacted by the learning environment. In doing so, he Fmakes an enduring argument for the complexity—much of which is allowed to languish unconsidered by many—of the life of students andO teachers in classrooms. Jackson (1968) concerned himself as a researcher and as a teacher with opening avenues of exploration. Of his workO in Life in Classrooms he writes that he is not necessarily interested in making great change3s, but that he is hoping to “awaken concern overR aspects of school life that seem to be receiving less attention than Pthey deserve” (p. vii). He1 is most interested in shedding light into the dark corners and seeing0 if there is anything interesting hiding there to which he or fellow2 scholars might give chase. In the process, he hasP opened up doors to a great number of later educationists to questionA the hidden curricula of our schools and the ways those hidden curriculaI may affect our© students and teachers. Along the way, Jackson reveals some hidden agendas of his own, through the use of pro- vocative and patriarchal language, that serves to complicate and obscure his messages, while at the same time offering a fascinating irony, i.e. that a work that is inherently sexist could have given rise to many theoretical off- shoots that have effectively shed light on the hidden curricula of patriarchal forces in our schools.

What Jackson Found: A Synopsis Life in Classrooms is divided up into five sections: “The Daily Grind”; “Students’ Feelings About School”; “Involvement and Withdrawal in the Classroom”; “Teachers’ Views”; and “The Need for New Perspectives.” All will be synopsized below, with the first section receiving a more thorough 270 K. WALDROP treatment, as it sets up and contextualizes the other four sections and as it is the one that receives the most focus in later literature. The Daily Grind, which is probably the best known of the entire work, outlines in imagistic and almost poetic language the reality of what it means to live one’s life, as either student or teacher, within the brick and mortar walls of the American public education system. Jackson identifies the key physical and emotional facts of daily school life, including the simple requirement of attendance and the problems inherent in not having chosen to be there in the first place; evaluation, both by the teacher and by peers; and time spent waiting, either for a particular favorite activity or for everyone to complete a current activity. In this section, Jackson focuses on what he calls the “three facts of life” with which students must cope in schools, “crowds, praise, and power,” which make up what Jackson is the first to dub the “hidden curriculum” (Jackson, 1968, pp. 33-34). Much of the course of school life, as described by Jackson (1968), is dictated by the sheer number of students in the classroom.S Jackson argues, “Only in schools do thirty or more people spend several hours each day literally side by side” (p. 8). Jackson’s skill as a rhetoricianF is first thrown into relief in these pages as he lures the reader into indulging in the mental exercise of trying to come up with exceptionsO to this rule, only to agree a page later that two other institutions, prisons and mental hospitals, are similar especially in the compulsoryO nature of attendance (p. 9). Crowd control, according to Jackson, is one of teachers’ main3 functions as they may participate in “as manyR as 1000 interpersonal interchanges” each in a given school day P(p. 11). This daily fact1 of classroom life is intrinsically connected to the other issues of evaluation0 and power. Having one teacherP to deal with many2 students sets up various complex issues as the teacher negotiates who will have attention, who will receive goodsA and services, and who will be praised and/or penalized. The number ofI students in the classroom© dictates the pace at which those issues are resolved. The quality of student evaluation is directly linked to the crowded classroom but is not all encompassing. Regardless of the numbers of people with whom students and teachers must interact, evaluation is another daily eventuality that is unique to the school environment. Jackson (1968) notes that “most people seldom encounter tests outside of their school experience” (p. 19). Whether they are being offi- cially evaluated by the teacher on class material, rated on their behavior as the teacher determines who will get extra time at recess, or evaluated even less formally by students who will decide who will be popular and who will be judged as not socially worthy, students are evaluated in all kinds of ways and for all kinds of things throughout their school day. The fact of the crowds and the pervasiveness of praise (or its opposite) contribute to and complicate the relations of power within the school. Hide and Seek With Philip Jackson 271

Jackson (1968) notes that a big part of the power imbalance between students and staff in school is related to time, as teachers become the “official timekeeper[s]” of the institution (p. 12). As noted above, the amount of time and attention given to a student by a teacher is dictated as much by the number of students present as any other factor. Additionally, Jackson notes that students rarely get to choose the time at which they complete a task and never are given the opportunity to decide when to take a break. In addition to the triple threat of crowds, praise and power, Jackson (1968) adds what he calls the “four unpublicized features of school life: delay, denial, interruption, and social distraction” (p. 17). Successfully meeting the challenge of schooling is as much, in this view, about learning to negotiate the hidden curriculum and to sublimate one’s own wants either indefinitely or at least until the institutionally approved time for them to be addressed. Learning to wait patiently through any number of delays, or accepting having one’s preferences being denied altogether, becomes for many students in Jackson’s view a necessity for educationalS success, especially since students are required to attend school and in school have no control over the way in which their time Fis spent. Jackson connects the failure to accept these truths with problems of student motivation. He argues that failure to be suitably motivatedO and engaged in the classroom is frequently diagnosed as “failure to comply with institutional expectations, a failure to master the hiddenO curriculum” (p. 35). This connection of the hidden curriculum toR student motivation and3 engagement is the main concern of the next four chapters of the book. Jackson’s (1968) second chapter,P “Students’ Feelings1 About School,” surveys studies conducted by other researchers0 regarding students’ attitudes toward school Pand the degree of satisfaction2 they have with their educational experiences. From open-ended questionnaires to studies asking students to selectA from lists of adjectives to describe their experiences, Jackson reportsI that most studies© suggest that most students do not have strong feelings one way or another about schooling. Some report on embarrassing situations and many point to boredom as a problem, but overall, the research suggests that school is not something students analyze in depth. Jackson argues, however, that a significant number of students report dissatisfaction and is worth further exploration. A final set of studies discussed by Jackson takes on the issue of student satisfaction along with whether or not teachers are capable of predicting which student will report being satisfied or dissatisfied. Jackson notes two main findings. Teachers are not overly adept at anticipating which students will claim to be either satisfied or dissatisfied, with most teachers assuming that students who perform well will be satisfied and those who perform poorly will be dissatisfied, which Jackson points out as a “common-sense” and, therefore, according to Jackson, a worthy assumption (p. 80). Nonetheless, the 272 K. WALDROP researchers discussed cannot demonstrate a link between student attitudes about school and educational achievement. Further, the teachers involved were shown to be more adept at predicting the attitudes of satisfied girls, dissatisfied boys, and students of both genders with high IQs. Chapter 3, “Involvement and Withdrawal in the Classroom,” reviews studies conducted relating to student attention and involvement in classroom activities. Jackson (1968) includes studies ranging from those that simply have observers watching students and attempting to gauge attention, to those that attempt to differentiate from the appearance of attention to actual attentiveness, and finally, to those that attempt to determine the impact of attentiveness on academic performance. Jackson makes several key connections here. First, he notes that although complete inatten- tion is easily detected, researchers have a difficult time determining when engaged students are thinking about the course material based on their outward appearances alone. The studies also suggest that attention may relate to scores on achievement tests but not necessarily to Sintellectual ability nor to students’ attitudes toward school. Jackson notes that there are significant correlations between the ability to engage Fstudents in class- work and the hidden curriculum, noting the many rules and regulations that are intended to minimize interruptions so thatO students may focus on the task at hand. He notes that these rulesO are often more prevalent in lower grade levels. In this section, Jackson recursively connects the overt curriculum to the hidden curriculum,R noting that the appropriatenes3 s of material to the students, which can either heighten1 or kill interest, is equally important as the appropriatenP ess of the classroom conditions that make focusing on the overt material possible. Nonetheless,0 Jackson’s final word on the subject Pin this chapter is that 2“often it is school that is boring, not just arithmetic or social studies” (p. 111), suggesting that no matter how salient theA overt curriculum, the hidden curriculum can impede student involvement.I © The chapter titled, “Teachers’ Views,” contains the results of Jackson’s own study, where he interviewed 50 teachers from middle-class, suburban schools, who were chosen by their administrators as being excellent educators. Jackson (1968) states,

The goal of the interview was to find out how these teachers know when they were doing a good job, how they dealt with the fact of their own power and that of their administrative superiors, and what pleasures, if any, life in the classroom held out to them. (p. 119)

He collects their responses according to four themes “immediacy, informality, autonomy, and individuality” (p. 119). In discussing immediacy, the teachers talk about the daily relationship they have with their students Hide and Seek With Philip Jackson 273 and how those daily interactions are the best gauge for how well they are doing their jobs, as well as how well the students are doing in understanding the material. Some rather prophetic discussions given the current high-stakes testing movement cover the inability for a class’s performance on a single test to accurately measure a teacher’s success. The comments on informality relate the importance of the interpersonal relationships between the teachers and their students as a key factor in measuring teacher effectiveness. In another almost disturbingly forward-looking section, teachers discuss the importance of autonomy in the classroom, especially as it relates to the freedom to control curricular content and the freedom from administrative evaluation in the classroom. The teachers state in the strongest possible terms that loss of control over curriculum and a high level of evaluation would result in them quitting their jobs. Key to these concerns was the belief in the need to honor the individuality of the teachers and the students and its importance to curricular content and pace. The second half of the chapter is taken up with Jackson’sS analysis of the teacher’s responses, where he critiques them in harsh terms as being overly concerned with the concrete minutiae of theirF daily lives with students, too emotionally involved with their students, unable to ratio- nally analyze the phenomena in their classrooms,O and lacking in a technical vocabulary to discuss, especially with university researchers like himself, what they do each day. Jackson endsO the chapter by considering that some of these traits may be necessary to succeeding3 in negotiating the hidden curriculum of schools andR making school life less institutionally harsh and difficult for theirP students. 1 In his final chapter, “The Need for New Perspectives,”0 Jackson (1968) discusses the “engineeringP point of view”2 of teaching and the effort of some to try to turn teaching from “an art into a science” (p. 165). Although notA entirely sold on the idea, Jackson argues that given the major contributionsI of the testing© movement and textbook and curricular improvements brought about by engineering point of view, “it would be foolish to call into question” its overall merits (p. 165). Jackson notes, however, that the problem with the engineering point of view is its inability to deal with the complexity of life in classrooms, or more simply, the hidden curriculum. He discusses teaching as “opportunistic” (p. 166) in that it must take advantage of the moment, especially the moments when students are engaged and make what seem to be intuitive leaps toward understanding that can’t be anticipated or planned for. Also unaddressed by the engineering perspective are the wide array of teachers’ concerns, which extend beyond learning objectives to include issues relating to the hidden curriculum, such as whether or not they have been fair in dealing out praise and time to their students. Jackson argues that we need to “seek an understanding of the teaching process as it is commonly per- 274 K. WALDROP formed” before trying to fix it from the outside and that we should strive to “preserve, rather than transform” the artistry of teaching (p. 175). Returning to the concerns voiced in Chapter 4, Jackson renews a call for teachers and researchers to develop a common, sophisticated vocabulary that will allow them to communicate more clearly and give teachers an “effective set of descriptive terms for talking about what they do” (p. 176).

Hidden in the Shadows: Critiquing the Work

Although, as mentioned above, Jackson’s work here is held in high regard and has born a tremendous amount of fruit in the years since Life in Classrooms was first published, many have also critiqued his views. From Cherryholmes (1988) to Giroux (1983), authors question Jackson’s blithe commentary that the hidden curriculum is a fact of life thatS must be accepted, and further that educational success requires mastery of this curriculum. Jackson occasionally discusses the difficultiesF created by the hidden curriculum, such as the problems it may cause in student engagement with the overt curriculum, but his agenda seemsO to lean toward finding ways to help students and teachers cope with the hidden curriculum, rather than finding ways to dismantle it. OJackson’s comfort with what he calls the engineering point of viewR is also a cause for concern,3 since it seems at odds with the progressive stance that he takes throughout most of his other work. P 1 Moving beyond these larger concerns and reading0 Jackson’s text for its semiotics, as one canP only imagine that Jackson2 himself would do were it not his own creation, there are deeper issues of concern here. It is unsur- prising, althoughA not entirely forgivable, that this text, written in 1968, is awash withI patriarchal language.© In the opening chapters, the pronouns exclusively situate all of Jackson’s hypothetical teachers and students as male, in accordance with the custom of the day. But the sexist nature of the book goes much deeper than that and is heighted when one considers it in terms of Sadker and Sadker’s (1994) work Failing at Fairness. In 1970, only 2 years after Life in Classrooms first appeared in print, Jack- son wrote in an essay for the NEA Association for Supervision and Curric- ulum Development’s compilation The Unstudied Curriculum, that researchers must begin to focus on what is not easily observed and encouraged others to turn his “hidden curriculum” from the daily facts of life of schooling to more complex and less obvious issues, and many did just that, in that compilation and in the years beyond (Overly, 1970). Apple (2004) would take up the hidden curriculum as evidence of the school as institution working to reify the class system. Giroux (1983) would discuss it as the Hide and Seek With Philip Jackson 275 work of hegemony perpetuating and recreating power systems. Most ironically, however, given the pervasive nature of sexism within the book, Sad- ker and Sadker turn the hidden curriculum on itself and demonstrate ways to read Life in Classrooms for its patriarchal agenda. Failing at Fairness is the result of the Sadker and Sadker’s (1994) long term quest to root out and exemplify what they call a “powerful hidden curriculum” that works to “shortchange girls and women as they study along with boys and men” (p. ix). Throughout the work, it is clear that Sadker and Sadker are commenting directly on many of the issues first unearthed by Jackson’s (1968) Life in Classrooms. From their use of the specific term, “hidden curriculum,” to their inclusion of critiques of the work of Kohlberg and Rosenthal, which is featured prominently alongside Jackson’s (1970) chapter in The Unstudied Curriculum, it is clear that Sadker and Sadker are intentionally using and taking on Jackson’s work. Among the many excellent and important discussions of the ways in which schools reinforce the male-dominated nature of our society, the authorsS point out the omission of the feminine from school texts, from the use of the masculine to represent the neutral position, which is shownF to call up mental images of males alone, to the absence of women in both text and pictures. Sadker and Sadker convincingly demonstrateO the damage caused by patriarchal language in text intended for every kind of student, from the kindergartener to the undergraduate teachingO major. As noted above, the simple andR expected subtle use of3 the masculine pronouns when discussing hypothetical and/or theoretical teachers and students in the beginning of PLife in Classrooms is an 1easy example to find. Likewise, one can find gender stereotyping throughout0 the book. Much of this is overt, as whenP Jackson (1968) comments,2 “Many of the behaviors that the teacher smiles upon, especially those that have to do with compliance to institutionalA expectations (e.g., neatness, passivity, cleanliness), are more closelyI linked in our society© with feminine than with masculine ideas” (p. 25). Or when Jackson suggests that the chores with which students may help teachers are “feminine in character” (p. 68). Or when he notes that we should not be surprised that many of the teachers he interviews for Chapter 4 deal with their work in a highly intuitive, rather than rational (Jackson’s opposition), way, since most of them are women and we should not “be surprised to find female teachers behaving like other women” (p. 146). This obvious form of sexism is not the end, however. Like the textbooks Sadker and Sadker (1994) discuss, Jackson also provides gendered examples of students that offer a clearly sexist view. When Jackson discusses the issue of teacher evaluation, he includes the following examples: “Sarah is a neat and pleasant girl. She is a good helper;” “William is a good worker;” “John is a good worker;” “Liza has a listening face” (p. 23). Note that, as holds true in the textbooks Sadker and Sadker 276 K. WALDROP explicate, the male students are active and good at doing, while the females are relegated to passive roles and descriptions of their appearance, rather than their abilities. When discussing the issue of attentiveness and the difficulty in gauging it by appearance alone, Jackson wonders “about the girl who is furiously writing over by the window” and whether she is taking notes or “dashing off a message to her boyfriend.” He also considers the “young man who is gazing at the ceiling” and whether he is considering the classroom discussion or “conjuring up images to fit the contours of the cracks in the plaster” (p. 87). While the male student is either engaged in work or in a process of creativity, the girl is either engaged in work or in concerning herself with a boy. Con- tinuing to follow Sadker and Sadker in gender analysis of the text, we find an even more subtle and distressing form of sexism than this. In his second and third chapters, as Jackson (1968) discusses research done by others, he does so in a way that positions the male as the neutral or normal position and the female as the exception. He doesS this by pointing out each instance in which the researchers conducting the studies are female. Take the following for example, “With respectF to the children’s liking of their present teacher, Sister Josephina found an even smaller amount of discontent than did Tenenbaum”O (p. 51). Note that Tenenbaum is both male and uninflected, while Josephina is given her full title and, thus, gendered. This could Obe argued away by saying that Josephina, being a nun and havingR a quite feminine name,3 is gendered without Jackson’s actions making it so. This is not the case, however, in this situation alone, but an overallP pattern in the work.1 Later in the same chapter, Sister M. Amatora Tschechtelin’s work0 is discussed alongside that of L. F. Malpass. AsP should be expected,2 Malpass is referred to by last name alone, while Tschechtelin is referred to by Sister M. Amatora (pp. 78-79). Again,A one could argue that the author’s ecclesiastical identity could beI creating the issue, and© again, additional examples make that conclusion unlikely. Jackson continues the next chapter by juxtaposing work done by Bryce Hudgins and Henriette Lahaderne (pp. 100-101). Hudgins is, as always, Hudgins, but Lahaderne is “Miss Lahaderne” throughout the discussion. Jackson’s naming formula serves to highlight certain researchers as feminine and distant from himself and those he considers to be his closer kin and true colleagues. This pattern of distanc- ing is further complicated in the disturbing treatment of women in Chap- ter 4, “Teacher’s Views.” Jackson (1968) tells us that the interviews that make up the basis for the chapter were conducted with 50 teachers without giving us information at the outset about the gender of those involved. Although the majority of the pronouns used in this section continue to be masculine, Jackson does identify several of his subjects as female by using feminine pronouns, Hide and Seek With Philip Jackson 277 as he relates their responses to his questions throughout the first four sections of the chapter. The use of pronouns in these early sections seems to be entirely driven by the gender of the respondent. In the fifth section, however, things change dramatically as Jackson begins to critique the teachers’ responses. Regardless of his stated intention not to be critical but only to shed light on that which has been in darkness, Jackson launches into a fairly scathing attack on what he calls the “human fail- ings” of his subjects (p. 149). As he takes them to task for their lack of a technical vocabulary and the simplicity with which they view their work, Jackson switches exclusively to the use of female pronouns. One could argue that this is driven by the fact that, as Jackson notes for us, “almost all of the interviewees were women” (p. 146). This in itself begs the question of whether or not his critiques apply only to the female and not the male teachers interviewed. Further, it becomes clear, as he discusses the “weakness of their intellectual tenacity and the intuitive softness of their talk” (p. 146) that he is talking not only of his subjects, but of aS hypothetical/ideal female teacher. Take for example the following quote, “the focus of theF teacher’s concern is on her concrete experience with a particular group of students” (Jackson, 1968, p. 147). As Jackson argues againstO the teacher’s inability to analyze her experience in an abstract way, he also feminizes her and reduces all of his subjects, or given the aboveO analysis, only his female subjects, to a single feminine entity, theR nonintellectual female.3 Further down the page, his patriarchal world view comes into clearer relief when he argues against the “emotionalP ties” his female teacher1 has with her students by writing, “Of course everyone cares to 0some extent about what he is doing and about Phis daily associates. To2 that extent, then, teachers are no different from anyone else. But the intensity of the teacher’s emotional investment inA her work, if we can believe the way she talks about it, often exceeds thisI common concern.” ©Note that the neutral and normal “everyone” is male and that “teachers” when discussed as like that normal male are plural, yet when Jackson returns to his critique questioning the benefit of emotional attachment and the female teacher’s reliability as a witness to her own world, she becomes again the lone, small and vulnerable woman. This single female entity, “the teacher” and “her” abilities, or more clearly her lack of abilities of value to Jackson, are the subject of the rest of his critique from whom he only broadens his focus back out to teachers in the plural and the specific group of teachers he interviewed as the section comes to a close. The final section of the chapter shows Jackson (1968) backing off from his critique by arguing that many of the problems he has pointed out in the previous section may have actual benefits by allowing the teacher to “soften the impact of the impersonal institution” (p. 152) and “make the 278 K. WALDROP classroom more tolerable for students” (p. 154). As you will have undoubtedly and correctly assumed, this section, which does much to ameliorate the viciousness of the attack of the previous section, marks the return of the exclusive use of the masculine pronoun. As Jackson describes for his reader the benefits and beauties of the art of teaching, rather than its fail- ings, the teacher once again gets the privilege of being male. Much of this emphasis on gender is heightened by an additional linguistic issue within the text. Jackson (1968) uses what I have come to think of as a “language of desire” to discuss life within the elementary school classroom. This language, at least to the contemporary ear, casts a delicate sheen of sexuality over the work. He discusses the environment in schools as one of “social intimacy” (p. 8) and notes that “students must learn to employ their executive powers in the service of the teacher’s desires rather than their own. Even if it hurts” (p. 30). He talks of the need for students to “keep their private fantasies in check” (p. 32) and of their needs to promote “discipline” over “desires” (p. 36). It doesn’t take a Freudian expert Sto note the significance of Jackson’s word choice when he suggests that researchers should “probe more deeply” issues of student satisfactionF (p. 54). More examples are evident throughout the text as Jackson connects motivation to maximizing pleasure and avoiding pain (p. 61),O student motivation to desire (p. 74), and the concern for classroom order to a delicate balance of desires (p. 107). My goal here is not to suggestO that Jackson has some sort of overtly or even covertly sexualizedR view of school or that3 he is intentionally discussing it in these terms. Much more than a sophomoric attempt to point and giggle at suggestiveP language, in the context1 of highly sexist language, issues of gender become heightened. They0 also point to an area of hidden curriculum, the sexual nature of the2 individuals within the school setting, that is left hiddenP by Jackson and only teased out by later researchers like SadkerIA and Sadker (1994).© Through the Curriculum Window: A Classroom View Turned Upside Down

I have attempted to show that Jackson’s (1968) book is woefully flawed due to its patriarchal language and clear sexist agenda, yet it is likewise not without its beauties nor without a richness that is in part owing to those same flaws. When challenged to consider Jackson’s work in terms of the metaphor of “curriculum windows,” without a doubt the window becomes that of the long, vertical rectangle of glass embedded in the side of the classroom door. One can easily imagine Jackson standing outside that door looking in on classroom activities, making notes about the “daily grind” he sees taking place within. This window, which gives the Hide and Seek With Philip Jackson 279 viewer a glimpse into the life that goes on in classrooms, is an apt metaphor for the many benefits and uses that can still be made by considering Jackson’s work, including the importance of outside observation, the necessity of carefully considering the language we use when discussing education, the uses to which seemingly outdated notions can be put in observing contemporary phenomena, and a focus on the bodily, gendered experiences of teachers and students. Much of the evidence given by Sadker and Sadker (1994) focuses on the need for outside observation. They demonstrate repeatedly that teachers dedicated to justice and equality can easily and unwittingly fall into sexist patterns of behavior, such as giving more attention and providing better, more detailed instruction to male students. This concern has been in the back of my mind since I was first introduced to it early on in my teaching career as a graduate teaching associate. Not having the benefit of regular outside observation and feedback, I have often wondered whether or not my intentions to balance my classroom behaviorS as it relates to my students’ genders are actually borne out in practice. Sadker and Sadker conclude in their final chapter, “Given the hecticF pace of classroom life, clocked at several hundred to a thousand interactions daily, most teachers cannot monitor accurately who receivesO their attention. An outside observer—a colleague, parent, or even a student—must help” (p. 267). Apple (2004) also notes the importanceO of the relationship between the researcher and the teacherR by suggesting that3 the attempt of the researcher to immerse herself in the life of the classroom is the only way that “teaching of a less overt,P hidden curriculum1 can be documented” (p. 15). Whether one is interested in ameliorating0 a sexist agenda within the hidden curriculum,P as Sadker and Sadker2 (1994) are, or simply interested in shedding light on unconsidered classroom phenomena, as is Apple and JacksonA before him, the importance of the outside observer cannot be overestimated.I © Ensuring that teachers and those observers are able to communicate with each other is also an important message Jackson imparts that has lasting implications. In a graduate education class I took several summers ago, I was one of only 2 students out of 25 or so who were not public school teachers. The teacher asked for a showing of hands of how many students in the class considered themselves to be intellectuals. I was the only one who raised my hand. I was also one of two who was there, not for the purposes of continuing education required for teacher certification, but for the purpose of obtaining a PhD and becoming a researcher of educational matters. The gap between the university researcher and the classroom practitioner, it would seem, is no less significant than it was when Jackson published his book in 1968. Although I would never condone nor align myself with his elitist perspective on teachers and their 280 K. WALDROP intellectual capabilities, he does have a salient point that the two groups, one of dedicated outside observers and the other of equally dedicated entrenched troops, must continue to find ways to work together to examine and discuss what takes place in classroom settings. Unfortunately, it is also important to ensure that the observers are dedicated to the improvement of schooling and not simply engaged in the draconian style of surveillance that many states and school districts are attempting in the name of teacher accountability. Teachers in one school district in Tennessee, with whom I am acquainted, tell the story of the district mandating their administration to observe and document their performance a certain number of times each year to help determine promotions and salary increases and to build cases to fire teachers if needed. The administration had to go to their school board and explain, using elementary math, that the number of times and mandated dura- tions of observations was physically impossible, since it added up to more time than was in the school year. Administrators would literallyS have been able to do nothing but observe their teachers and still wouldF not have met the requirement. Notions of the necessity of teacher accountabilityO are washing through our society on many levels, from movies like Bad Teacher to laws requiring districts to put in place absurd plans like thatO described above. In my own state of Ohio, Senate Bill 5, which was eventually repealed by popular vote, included both funding cuts Rfor police and fire departments3 and requirements for accountability measures for teachers.1 As the Bill’s popular vote was approaching, I oneP day found myself0 overhearing a conversation by two women as we waited for our daughters’ dance class to end. They were discussingP how they would vote2 for the measure, and one expressed to Athe other how conflicted she felt, since she wanted to vote the Bill downI in order to show support© for the police and firemen but also wanted to vote for the Bill because she felt teachers needed to be held accountable to do their jobs well. I was struck dumb in amazement at her different assessments of these groups of public servants, the police and firemen who held her esteem and unqualified support and the teachers who needed to be forced into doing good work. I couldn’t help but conclude that sexism was at least in part responsible both for her attitude and that general perception in society, since it is an unquestionable truth that one big difference in those groups is gender demographics. I cannot prove this assertion, of course, but Jackson’s work and its combination of sexist language and notions about the importance of observation forces us to consider that while observation can and should be a way to help teachers and students work together more effectively, issues like gender politics can easily turn observation into a hegemonic method of control. Hide and Seek With Philip Jackson 281

Jackson’s (1968) work, specifically the use of both patriarchal and pro- vocative language, demonstrates the importance of examining the language we use to discuss education. For the purposes of this work, issues of sexist language and the effect it may have on the reader and the field is a necessary source of attack. This is not the only way in which this focus on the language of the field can bear fruit. Cherryholmes (1988) writes, as have others, about curriculum theorists’ attachment to the language of death. She makes insightful connections between the field’s linguistically volatile extremes and an inherent turbulence in the field due to its lack of tethering to a stable subject (See Chapter 7, “Poststructuralism, Pragmatism and Cur- riculum”). Cherryholmes also highlights the importance of language as she explains the poststructuralist perspective on speech as action and/or practice (pp. 7-8). Thus, the language researchers use to discuss education is implicated in the nature of education itself. Looking back at Jackson’s language from this perspective, it is still ironic, yet not entirely surprising, that a focus on the patriarchal nature of the hidden curriculum as clearlyS expli- cated by Sadker and Sadker was born out of the highly sexistF and sexualized language Jackson uses to describe curriculum. I am not suggesting that Jackson and his linguisticO choices are responsible for the sexist nature of education, nor am I offering a harsh critique of those choices. We are not, in many realO ways, in control of either the language we use or the way in which that language is interpreted by others. When sharing the title I had craftedR for this chapter, 3“Hide and Seek with Philip Jackson,” one of my colleagues snickered1 and said, “That sounds dirty.” I was at once horrifiedP and gratified0 as my title became in a strangely recursive way an example of the way language sneaks up on us, even the language weP are trying to wrestle2 into conveying our point. As I struggled to relateA my thoughts on Jackson’s ideas, specifically my ideas on his sexistI and sexualized language,© I had devised a title that at least some would find sexually suggestive, even though this was not my intent. Again the importance and interplay of the outside observer is highlighted. Looking as just such an observer at Jackson’s work, I am able to see much in his linguistic choices which he likely never intended and probably never considered. Those linguistic choices may have resulted in a heightened awareness of gender and sexuality that lead those like Sad- ker and Sadker (1994) to question the ways in which the hidden curriculum works to reinforce the sexist nature of our society. The natural conclusion is that it is more than worthwhile, and maybe even necessary, that we examine historic and seminal texts (the linguistic connotations of that word choice are, I am sure, lost on few) like Jackson’s for insights into the nature of injustice in our schools, for they can potentially lead us to the means to dismantle them. 282 K. WALDROP

Jackson’s 1968 linguistic choices, especially those that are sexist and sexual, lead us to consider carefully the ways that gender and sexuality are at play in a school setting. Sadker and Sadker (1994) take the connections between gender, sexuality, and education into a startlingly stark and unpleasant light. They share that in 1994 one in six college women reported being raped (p. 183). Things have improved in the intervening years, but they have not improved nearly enough. The Campus Sexual Assault Study conducted in 2007 for the U.S. Department of Justice says that 19%, or roughly one in five, college women report having experienced an attempted or completed sexual assault, with 8.5%, roughly one in 12, reporting rape (Krebs, Lindquist, Warner, Fisher, & Martin, 2007). Additionally, Sadker and Sadker highlight a disturbing connection between the ability to succeed in school and teenage pregnancy. They explain that “school frustration, failure, and neglect” contribute to the problem, as most students who drop out due to pregnancy were found to be “in academic trouble” as early as fifth grade “and by middleS school were trapped in a cycle of failure” (p. 116). The issues reported are not just limited to students, however. “Of the 220,000 teachersF in California, 145 lost their licenses between 1985 and 1990 because of sexual misconduct with students” (p. 114). This issue is also, unfortunately,O not one of the past. An Associated Press investigation in 2007 discovered that from 2001-2005, 2570 teachers had their licensesO revoked due to accusations of sexual misconduct. A continuing and timely issue, sex and3 sexuality in our schools peeks out from the hiddenR depths of Jackson’s text and is found in the daily reality of our classrooms. P 01 Future SeekingA andP Finding: Observations2 Worth Making As a long-timeI lover and student© of literature, I was somewhat stunned at a colleague’s assertion that we needed to address in our writing what the value might be in contemporary readers reading 40 and 50 year old texts like Jackson’s. If Aristotle and Shakespeare are still relevant, Jackson and his early contemporaries should also certainly be, I reasoned. Among other pearls of wisdom found in Jackson’s lifetime of educational observation, teaching, and writing is the value of history. As noted above, he has been known to encourage his students to turn to historic texts for answers to contemporary educational questions, and his works, although not very old by literary standards, can serve similar purposes for us today. I recently attended The Rouge Forum, an educational conference dedicated to justice in education, where I sat in on a presentation discussing the Occupy the Department of Education event, the organizations behind it, and effective educational reform efforts. In that presentation, Johnson Hide and Seek With Philip Jackson 283

(Johnson & Poetter, 2012) argued that academic writing is powerless, useless, and pointless, since things like what I have written here and books like Jackson’s are not widely read and certainly not read by those with the political power to make tangible change in our school systems. He says that their only value is that of allowing young professors to achieve tenure and secure positions that will allow them access to power to potentially affect change. Johnson spends much of his time and energy writing blogs and creating podcasts for his Internet presence at The Chalk Face, a site dedicated to meaningful and just educational reform. These kinds of writings, he suggests, are the kinds that have a better chance at having a positive impact on education. Although I sympathize with his frustrations at the lack of a broad audience for educational research, I could not disagree more with his conclusions. The notion that one kind of writing has more power than another due to the number of readers it may have misses entirely the subtlety and pervasiveness of power. An author cannot control the way inS which his work is interpreted nor the power it may have to affect change. Johnson’s (1968) arguments are not entirely without merit, however.F Part of the power of Life in Classrooms is that contemporary readers can easily see their own school experiences past and present inO that historical portrait. In many ways, not much has changed since Jackson first wrote about the daily grind in 1968. At the same time, aO great deal has changed. Even since Sadker and Sadker (1994) wroteR Failing at Fairness3, we have seen impressive strides made in the achievement of girls in school. Girls now outperform boys in every assessmentP measure, from1 classroom grades to standardized tests, in all subjects, and a greater0 number of girls than boys go on to college (Francis,P 2002). That said,2 more work is still to be done. Scholars have demonstrated that gendered silos of learning within higher education, whereA male students get the overwhelming majority of degrees that result Iin high paying jobs, contributes© to the continuation of the salary gap between male and female wage earners (Bobbitt-Zeher, 2010; Freeman, Snyder, & Connoly, 2005; St. Rose, 2010). I am certain that Jackson did not set out to affect change in the ways female students achieve and it is impossible to determine what effect, if any, Jackson and Sadker and Sadker had on the improvements we have seen. Reading Jackson’s work in today’s climate of high-stakes testing and teacher accountability highlights the role of sexism in the disrespectful social attitude toward teachers. Education remains a highly feminized field, among one of the low paying degrees earned mostly by women. Unfortunately, just like the daily grind, the attitude of the academy, our government, and our society is much the same as it was when Jackson wrote his scathing critique of his unthinking, over-feminized teachers with limited vocabulary. Yet, a new reading of Jackson highlights the differences 284 K. WALDROP between the teachers he interviewed 40 years ago and teachers today. Although a full examination of those differences is not within the scope of this chapter, elementary teachers are prepared differently now than they were in 1968 and work today using different teaching and learning theories. I dare say if Jackson were to interview 50 exceptional teachers today, his experience would be significantly different, and that is a book I would love to read. Macdonald (as cited in Pinar, Reynolds, Slattery, & Taubman, 2004) writes, “The world today is not the same, and a different reading of history is needed to help make sense of the contemporary world” (p. 217). As educational scholars, the impact our writing has is not in our control, regardless of the kind of writing it may be, but it will have an impact, for language has a power all its own. Language defines us, controls us, and gives us power, and when we set out, as Jackson did, to seek new ideas and concepts in our explorations, we find new things in our societies, in our schools, and in ourselves. Reading those kinds of works will Schange us and the way we view the world around us. They are bells that cannot be unrung. Writing those kinds of works will change the worldF around us, maybe not in the way we expect, but certainly, inevitably, and hopefully for the better. OO REFERENCESR 3 Apple, M. W. (2004). Ideology and curriculum. New York, NY:1 RoutledgeFalmer. Bobbitt-Zeher, D. (2010). The roleP of college major segregation in gender income gaps. On Campus with Women, 39(1), 6-6. 0 Cherryholmes, C. H. P(1988). Power and criticism:2 Poststructural investigations in education. New York, NY: Teachers College Press. Eisner, E. (2001).A “Philip Wesley Jackson.” In J. Palmer, D. E. Cooper, & L. Bresler (Eds.), FiftyI modern thinkers on education:© From Piaget to the present day (pp. 199- 202). London, England: Routledge. Francis, B. (2002). Is the future really female? the impact and implications of gender for 14-16 year olds’ career choices. Journal of Education & Work, 15(1), 75- 88. doi:10.1080/13639080120106730 Freeman, C. E., Snyder, T. D., & Connoly, B. (2005). The impact of degree field on the earnings of male and female college graduates. Education Policy Analysis Archives, 13(6), 1-19. Giroux, H. A. (1983). Theory and resistance in education: A pedagogy for the opposition. South Hadley, MA: Bergin & Garvey. Hansen, D. (1996). “In class with Philip W. Jackson.” In C. Kridel, R. Bullough Jr., & P. Shaker (Eds.), Teachers and mentors: Profiles of distinguished twentieth-century professors of education (pp. 127-138). New York, NY: Garland. Jackson, P. (1968). The teacher and the machine. Pittsburgh, PA: The University of Pittsburgh Press. Hide and Seek With Philip Jackson 285

Jackson, P. (1970). The consequences of schooling. In N. V. Overly’s (Ed.), The unstudied curriculum: Its impact on children (pp. 1-22). Reston, VA: Association for Supervision and Curriculum Development Elementary Education Council. Jackson, P. (1986). The practice of teaching. New York, NY: Teachers College Press. Jackson, P. (1992). Untaught lessons. New York, NY: Teachers College Press. Jackson, P. (2000). John Dewey and the lessons of art. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press. Jackson, P., & Getzels, J. (1962). Creativity and intelligence: Explorations with gifted students. Oxford, England: Wiley. Jackson, P. W. (1968). Life in classrooms. New York, NY: Holt, Rinehart and Winston. Johnson, S., & Poetter, T. (2012, June 22). From occupying the Department of Educa- tion to occupying the conversation on education reform: A social primer. Panel discussion at the 2012 Rouge Forum, Oxford, Ohio. Krebs, C., Lindquist, C., Warner, T., Fisher B., & Martin, S. (2007). The campus sexual assault (CSA) study. Retrieved from https://www.ncjrs.gov/pdffiles1/nij/ grants/221153.pdf Overly, N. (Ed.). (1970). The unstudied curriculum. Washington, DC: AssociationS for Supervision and Curriculum Development. Pinar, W. F., Reynolds, W. M., Slattery, P., & Taubman, P. M. (2004).F Understanding curriculum. New York, NY: Peter Lang. Sadker, M., & Sadker, D. M. (1994). Failing at fairness:O How America’s schools cheat girls. New York, NY: C. Scribner’s Sons. St. Rose, A. (2010). STEM major choice and theO gender pay gap. On Campus with Women, 39(1),1. PR 13 P 20 IA ©

ABOUT THE AUTHORS

Thomas S. Poetter is professor of cur- S riculum studies in the Department of Educational Leadership at Miami Uni- F versity in Oxford, Ohio. Since 1994, Poetter has been engaging students in O inquiries into theory and practice in O curriculum and teaching. His first book, Voices of Inquiry in Teacher Educa-R 3 tion (1997, Lawrence Erlbaum), challenged teachers to view inquiryP as a key 1 orientation for a lifetime of profes- 0 sional practice in schools.P Since then, 2 his students have authored and co- authored manyA books and articles as a result of courseworkI taken with ©him at Miami University including book- length works such as Critical Perspectives on the Curriculum of Teacher Educa- tion (2004, UPA), No Child Left Behind and the Illusion of Reform (2006, UPA), and 10 Great Curricula: Lived Conversations of Progressive, Democratic Curricula in School and Society (2012, IAP). Recently, Poetter (2010) out- lined his curricular and pedagogical approaches with students in “Taking the leap, mentoring doctoral students as scholars” (The Journal of Natural Inquiry & Reflective Practice, 24(1), pp. 22-29). A longtime public school advocate and partner, Poetter continues to write and teach with remark- ably talented, focused students at Miami in the areas of curriculum, teaching, and public education renewal.

287 288 ABOUT THE AUTHORS

Leigh Ann Fish is a PhD candidate in the Department of Educational Leadership at Miami University in Oxford, Ohio, and a Coordinator of Gifted Services at Troy City Schools in Troy, Ohio. Drawing from her decade of experience as a practitioner in public schools and her recent work with beginning teachers, Fish remains a “chronic hopeful” in bringing meaningful school experiences to all children. Her research interests include ritual performance of identity in schools, the effects of labeling on high ability girls, and alternatives to outcomes-based education.

Kyra T. Collier is a doctoral student in the Department of Educational Leadership at Miami University of Oxford, Ohio. Her research interest focuses on the ways in which issues of race, spirituality, and leadership impact the holistic learning experience and successful matriculation of African American students to and through college. Ryan Gamm is a science teacher and PhD student in the DepartmentS of Education Leadership at Miami University. As a science teacher, Ryan advocates for equality and opportunity through science Feducation. Ryan continues to engage Miami students in the potential and possibilities of education. O Candi Pierce Garry is a third-year doctoralO student in the Department of Educational Leadership at Miami UniverRsity. Additionally,3 she is a Teacher Librarian serving a diverse, urban high school. Her research interests center around issues of censorship P and equality in 0K-121 education. Precious GawananiP is a doctoral student 2and graduate research assistant in the Department of Educational Leadership, Miami University, Oxford, Ohio. He is aA former secondary school teacher in Malawi and has worked as a lecturerI for one academic year© in Education Foundations at Univer- sity of Livingstonia in Malawi. His research interest is in the area of Pro- fessional Development for Secondary School Teachers in Malawi.

Sara Hayes is completing Miami University’s master’s program in curriculum and teacher leadership in the Department of Educational Leader- ship. She is the center coordinator at Miami University’s Discovery Center focusing on teacher professional development, systemic reform, and research interests in gender and ethnicity in STEM learning.

Beck D. Lewellen is a graduate of Miami University’s Earth Science Sec- ondary Education program, and its master’s degree program in curriculum and teacher leadership with a focus on curriculum instruction and professional development. With a continued passion for adolescent edu- About the Authors 289 cation, Lewellen looks forward to making a positive contribution on the evolution of our education system.

Jennifer M. Mills is a doctoral student in the Department of Educational Leadership at Miami University in Oxford, Ohio. Her research interest includes parental engagement as it relates to K-12 urban schools. She hopes to someday be a voice for parents who are silenced by the traditional notions of parental involvement.

Trevor Ngorosha is a doctoral student in the leadership, culture, and curriculum program in the Department of Educational Leadership at Miami University, Oxford, Ohio. A high school educator from Zimbabwe where he taught English and Literature for many years, Trevor’s research interests are in the areas of teacher professional development, supervision of instruction, and schools as learning organizations. S Mark W. O’Hara is a doctoral candidate in the EducationalF Leadership Department at Miami University in Oxford, Ohio. O’Hara’s classroom teaching has taken him from public middle schoolO to private high school, from university classes to summer projects with elementary students. His interests include disability studies, curriculum,O and creative writing. Rachel Radina is a doctoral studentR in the Department3 of Educational Leadership at Miami University. Her research interests1 include family- school-community partnerships, P social class,0 and education activism. Radina currently teaches a course on the foundations of education at Miami University andP works with the faculty2 in the urban teacher education program Ato design and conduct research to evaluate and improve the program. I © Scott Sander is a graduate assistant in the Discovery Center at Miami University providing professional development for K-12 math and science teachers in Ohio. He has 10 years of experience as a science teacher and is currently a PhD student at Miami University in the Department of Educational Leadership. His areas of interest include curriculum theory, science education, and preservice teacher education.

Carmen Scalfaro has been a public school teacher since 2002, teaching technology courses at the middle school level. As a doctoral student, Car- men is focused on curriculum studies and is interested in critical theory, democracy in education, and teacher education. Currently, Carmen is teaching education courses for preservice teachers at Miami University. 290 ABOUT THE AUTHORS

Susan K. Smith is an assistant principal at Colerain High School in the Northwest Local School District in Cincinnati, Ohio. She is also a doctoral student at Miami University in Oxford, Ohio.

Timothy W. Vaughn, Jr. is a doctoral student in the Department of Educa- tional Leadership at Miami University in Oxford, Ohio, where he also teaches an undergraduate course titled “Sociocultural Foundations in Edu- cation.” His research interests center on how pre-K-12 administrators utilize transformative leadership and critical spirituality as ways to promote a culture of success for students who are marginalized and disenfranchised.

Kelly Waldrop is a full-time business-writing instructor in the Farmer School of Business, Miami University, Oxford, Ohio. She is also a PhD student at Miami in The Department of Educational Leadership. Her areas of study include curriculum theory, queer theory, business education, service learning, and writing. S Mary Webb is a 16-year veteran mathematics teacher andF a doctoral student in Miami University’s educational leadership program. As a scholar and practitioner, one of her goals for teaching mathO is to allow students to immediately experience the usefulness of math by creating unforgetta- ble experiences through curriculum integration.O Her research interest focuses on how we reconceptualize the perception that math is not for everyone, not fun, can only be doneR by using paper and3 pencil, is not related to the real lives of students, P and only comes0 from1 a textbook. Jocelyn Weeda is a teaching assistant and doctoral candidate in the Department of EducationalP Leadership at2 Miami University in Oxford, Ohio. She hasA been a middle childhood educator and teacher advocate in CentervilleI City Schools, Centerville,© Ohio, for 18 years.