This diary is part of the YKOS Education UpRising Project, which has been introduced in a few diaries by teacherken such as Ed/Up Education UpRising - Educating for Democracy (Yearlykos).
This could be viewed as a break from our more formal work. It involves several of us sharing the most important lessons we learned in school.
For the past two weeks, we have started giving some of the history of American education in diaries by Sherman Dorn. Those diaries are The purposes of public education (YearlyKos) and A thumbnail history of school bureaucracy (Ykos). He will continue the next two weeks with a history of teaching and a history of equality (or the lack thereof) in education. After the history diaries, our group will look at the current state of schools and put forth proposals describing what education in America should be.
While Sherman takes a break this week, several of us are teaming up in this diary to talk about the most important lessons we learned while we were in school. Many of the other diaries our group creates will read like policy papers, but we thought it might be good to try a few personal diaries because education is such an innately personal experience for students, teachers, and parents. We welcome you to share the lessons you learned, and we hope that this could turn into a springboard to discuss the great accomplishments that are possible for schools. Several of the people quoted below are around to contribute to the discussion.
Here are some of our answers to the question:
What is the most important lesson you learned in school?
I learned that I could accomplish a lot by thinking. I was a math and science geek from a young age, and I always enjoyed being given problems to solve. The experience of solving something difficult is irreplaceable in terms of what it teaches you about yourself and the power of your mind.
--reino (high school math teacher)
That motivation was unique to the individual. It was all the result of the one teacher who truly knew how to challenge me, Thomas Rock, in AP American History. He told me that he expected me to do twice the work of the other students because it came so easily to me, and if I didn't agree, he wouldn't admit me to the class. I wanted in so I agreed. The first 3 (of 6 marking periods) I got 94s and 95. Once grades had gone into college I slacked off a bit, and my average dropped to 90. When I got my report card Mr. Rock had given me an 80. I went in to see him, and before I could say a word he told me that he knew why I was there, but before I spoke did I remember our conversation from the previous spring? I did, and he told me that I had nothing to say to him, did I? He was right. For me that was the proper motivation, and the final two marking periods my effort - and my grades - were back up.
--teacherken (high school social studies teacher)
Elementary school - that, desite all my many difficulties, I was a smart person who was capable of reason.
High school - a) that adolescents are hateful, mean-spirited and horrid. (That's what I learned - not that it's necessarily always true)
b) That, when reading a book, you should first look at the author, the index, and the bibliography.
c) That math is beautiful
(NB - I attended special ed. for elementary school)
--plf515 (expert in psychometrics)
Research Paper 101, my sophomore year in high school. The teacher taught us to write a Master's level paper (at that time) with regard to formatting and layout (on the typewriter, no less!), using footnotes correctly, citing correctly (I still remember the differences between ibid, loc cit and op cit), and bibilography. That class saved me more times than not through the rest of my high school career and all throughout my college career including my Masters degree, because I knew how to use note cards, I knew how to do research, and--I knew proper citation methods. Most of all, it taught me how to systematically organize my thoughts, not just for writing but for research and study.
--joyce (special ed teacher)
To look at the word "most" as the beginning of a very long list. To engage. To ask questions.
--deweycounts (educator turned internet activist)
'Do no harm' and 'advocate for the child'. Any time I have to make a difficult decision, I remember these, and it helps.
--Sidof79 (future school psychologist)
Normally, that would be a head-scratcher for me, but, luckily (or, unluckily in some ways) I spent the better part of two years thinking about it when I wrote my book, aptly titled Becoming Mr. Henry. (Note: I do not recommend anyone try this, particularly if you are
Mr. Nobody. You will lose money, and, when your health care lapses, you will end up with bad teeth and a limp, which doesn't exactly draw people to you at book events.)
What I concluded was that, despite the insightful and challenging courses I took in three different states, in six different schools from 5th grade through 10th, what actually stuck was not anything "explicit" provided by my teachers. Though, in fact, I somehow learned to read and write and think. Rather, what was most valuable and what stayed with me was what I learned "implicitly."
"How's that?" You say. Just this:
My family moved a lot in the middle years of my education, and I was somewhat of a transient student, though not exactly incapable or alienated. In a sense, like a lot of adolescents, I was searching for a way to belong, a place I could feel at home, an identity that fit for me, but only for me, because when you are the 8th of 9 in a family, wearing someone else's pants won't do. Plus, I had gleaned an important insight into the reality of school: every town, every community, every building has their share of heroes and big shots and heads and heavies and jocks and nerds. What we sometimes build up as being so terribly important as a kid, seen against the backdrop of having been there, and there, and there, suddenly loses its power to intimidate, the luster of those bright stage lights of imagined glory doesn't seem so impressive.
So for me, having traversed America and found myself never quite at home, never quite at ease, never quite believing that any of this was truly as important as other kids believed, what did matter was that teachers cared. That they did listen, that they did read my papers
and see what little of value was there. That they did give me a sense that my paltry and sometimes vain-glorious efforts at self-expression were worth their time, were worth improving. That, in fact, my quixotic life itself was worth salvaging, dusting off and lifting up when even I myself was unable to see it.
It's that, above all else: they believed that their job mattered.
And even though I have trouble recalling the explicit material as it unfolded day by day, I remember faces--Mr. Burns, Mr. Donoghue, Ms. Ayers, Mrs. Connors. And they way they talked; the way they conducted class; the way they treated all kids, even me. They gave me something implicit that helped me make it through.
They made me realize what I did with my life mattered, too.
Even today, in every small exchange around the building with every kid, I carry that seed of awareness. "This matters, right here, right now, kid. Because you matter."
We all do.
--Mi Corazon (English teacher, author, and activist)
What is the most important lesson you learned in school?