Preparing students for the real world

In schools we often talk about "the real world." I have to admit before I go any further that I have very little experience in the real world. I grew up living on a school campus, attended several elite institutions of higher learning, and have been a teacher most of my adult life. The academic world is my home and I have little desire to experience the "real world". Because of that, most of what I will say here is pure speculation.

When talking about accommodations made for students with identified learning disabilities, detractors often point out that there will be no accommodations once they enter the real world after graduation. At the same time, however, people who need such accommodations are unlikely to choose a career requiring them to use those skills and abilities that cause them trouble. In school, we are forced to take all the subjects and cannot pick and choose courses which suit our strengths. I actually think that's a good thing, because we need to be forced out of our comfort zones. If we never explore, we will never uncover our hidden strengths and passions. I don't, however, think it is a good basis for an argument that we shouldn't make accommodations which allow all students to do the best they can.

My AP Calculus students will be taking their big exam on Wednesday. They will sit in a big, silent room, separated by the requisite 5 feet. Some of the time they will be allowed to use calculators, some of the time only scrap paper. At the end of each section of the exam, they will hear those famous words, "Put your pencil down." How is this preparing them for the real world? The real world is all about collaboration and communication. My wife is a research scientist, something to which many AP Calculus students aspire. There is no such thing as a single-author paper in science any more. All science is done collaboratively. I suspect the same is true of most disciplines. In her 20 years of research, my wife has never sat silently in a room, bubbling in the results of her research on a computerized answer sheet. Instead she writes papers and presents her research verbally to other scientists. The real world is about communication.

The issue that has been on my mind the most this year is the idea of time limits. Schools love time limits. A test must be finished during the 45 minute class period or you get no credit for the problems you didn't finish. Students with a demonstrated need get an extra 50% time. (Why 50%?) What is the point of these time limits? A friend of mine who is an author talks about evaluating every scene and asking, "How does this advance the story or the characters? Does it have a purpose?" Shouldn't we do the same thing with education? How does finishing a test in 45 minutes advance education? What purpose does it serve? We seem to like to use the "real world" standard a lot when evaluating education. When was the last time your boss gave you a time limit on anything? Most jobs involve deadlines, not time limits, and those are very different things. If your boss tells you that you need to accomplish a task by the end of the day on Friday, she doesn't care how much time it takes you. If you want to work late all week or come in early and take lots of extra time to do the job well, you'll probably be commended for your dedication rather than told that you are not good enough. Why would we hold students who are just learning something for the first time to specific time limits when professionals who have been performing similar tasks for decades get deadlines instead?

Similarly, when was the last time your boss gave you a task and told you that you cannot use the technology tools available that would make your job more efficient and more accurate? Yes, as a math teacher, I think it is important for students to understand what is going on mathematically rather than just typing things into a calculator and trusting the answer. Any good math teacher, however, can find questions and tasks which require a student to show true understanding without being able to use technology as a crutch. Again, in your job, if you figure out a way to use technology that is already available in the office to do your job better and faster, you will probably get a commendation rather than being accused of cheating.

School is not the real world and it shouldn't be. Students make mistakes all the time that would get them fired in most workplaces, and school needs to be a safe place to make those mistakes and learn from them. Maybe there is value to some of these "sacred cows" of education, but if so, I think we, as educators, have a responsibility to clarify what that value is. The "preparing kids for the real world" argument just doesn't hold water.

Am I a hypocrite?

I had a very strange experience this week. I attended a private boarding school in high school. My mother taught there, so I got to go for free. I had a small group of friends at the school that I hung out with around school. As day students, we were allowed to go out to lunch if we had enough "merit points," and David, Derek, Mike, and I frequently went out to eat together. Those three were definitely my best friends at school. Outside of school hours, though, I spent all of my time with friends from the local public schools. Because of that strange dichotomy of friend groups, I have ended up not keeping up with my school friends much since graduation. I am Facebook friends with three or four, although a few of those wouldn't have given me the time of day in high school. The strange thing is that I have no contact at all with David, Derek, or Mike - my best friends from school.

Reading through the school alumni magazine this week, I found a story that Mike had been murdered in an incident of gang violence. (He was an innocent victim.) The good news is that, after some internet investigation, it looks like the Mike who was murdered was actually a different person with the same name as my friend. The person in charge of that section of the alumni magazine is working on figuring out the truth, and I know he will find it. He is an old friend, one of the most important mentors of my life, and one of the smartest people I know, so I am confident that he will find the truth if it is there to find. All of that is not really my concern here, though. The point of this post is my emotional roller coaster over the last couple of days. When I first read the story, I was stunned. Such a tragedy happening to an old friend was shocking and very upsetting. When I figured out that it looked like the story was a case of mistaken identity, I was relieved, but also angry about the emotional stress I had gone through since reading the story. That is when the word "hypocrite" started to haunt the back of my mind. Since he graduated in 1988, I have made no attempt at getting in touch with Mike other than searching for him on Facebook (unsuccessfully). Now, 23 years later, I feel like I've had my emotions abused because I thought I'd lost him. If I really cared that much, why have I not made a greater effort to get in touch with him? Was he actually not that important to me? In that case, I am a hypocrite for being upset that I was led to believe he'd been killed. Was he really that important to me and I had a right to be upset? In that case, I am a hypocrite for complaining that the alumni magazine did not make a greater effort to check their facts when I have barely made an effort to keep in touch with such an important old friend. Yesterday I felt like the alumni magazine should be embarrassed for publishing that story without knowing the full truth, but today I realize that the embarrassment is actually mine for my reaction.

Is there a lesson here? Lots of them, actually. First, if somebody is important to you, keep in touch and let him or her know. Second - if you don't make an effort, then you forfeit any right to complain about the effort of others. That applies in almost every aspect of life. Finally, remember that almost everybody you encounter in life is trying hard to do their best. People make mistakes, but almost all of them are honest  mistakes. I talk to my kids a lot during sibling squabbles about assuming that the other is actually a nice person rather than interpreting every action as evil or inept. I think we all can use a little reminder of that sometimes. We have a habit of associating the actions of the most extreme of a group of people with the whole group, whether it is 9/11 bombings with Muslims or bigoted comments with a specific political group. In my experience, almost all Muslims are good people, as are almost all Christians, Jews, Buddhists, and atheists. Almost all homosexuals are looking for stable, monogamous, long-term relationships, as are almost all heterosexuals. Almost all Republicans and almost all Democrats are generally good people who want the best for this country, but disagree on what that means or how it should be achieved. I think the world would be a much better place if we look at each other as always having the best motives and always making our best efforts. Sometimes we'll get burned, but most of the time we won't. I forgot to assume the best this week. Does that mean I am a hypocrite? I hope not. Instead I think it makes me human.

Aging is awesome!

Everyone is so afraid of getting older. Once we get past 21, we dread birthdays, we lie about our age, and we spend lots of money to appear younger than we are. Why is that? Age = experience, and there is nothing that can make us more interesting and attractive than experience. Age also results in our knowing and understanding ourselves more, and pursuing the things we find important. When I was younger, I was AMBITIOUS! I wanted power. I knew that private schools, and especially boarding schools, were the playing field on which I would make my career, and I was going to be a Headmaster. Why? Because I was young and ambitious. As I aged, I came to realize more and more that being a Headmaster meant putting aside everything else in your life to focus on that one goal. How awful! When I turned 38, I stepped down as the chair of my department because power was no longer my number one goal. Instead of being powerful, I want to make a difference in the lives of my own particular students. Although this has been a very difficult year in a lot of ways (I am teaching one class more than a full load, with four totally different classes when 2 is the norm, and new textbooks in all four classes) it has also been my most enjoyable year in a long time. For the first time in almost a decade, I get to focus on my own kids and what they need, not on what the department needs. I am finally able to recognize what I want out of my professional life and focus on that. I've never been so satisfied with my work!

One of the other benefits of aging is that my children are aging too. I can go on for pages about my son - my running buddy and soccer star, but right now I'm thinking about my daughter - the older child. She's about to become a teenager and is old enough now to share a lot of my interests. We read the same books and talk about them. She now watches "How I Met Your Mother" with me and marvels at Barney's Awesomnity (Layne's word). She laughs when I text her funny pictures on her cell phone. How can aging be bad when it is turning my daughter into my best friend?

Why am I thinking about aging today? It is because today we celebrated my wife's 39th birthday. Yes, the first and real 39th birthday. How did we celebrate it? There were three main parts to the day. First, we took the kids to the community Easter Egg Hunt. We got to hang out with friends and watch our children behave perfectly, even when their friends were not. I wish I could say that happens every day, but they're human too. Then Deb and I biked together to another city IN ANOTHER STATE and had lunch sitting on a bench outside on a beautiful day. After lunch, we biked home, mostly downhill, and had some awesome stretches of pure speed. We've never been able to discover and share this interest in cycling before because the children have been too young, but age has brought this incredible shared interest.

The last thought on the awesomnity of aging is definitely related to the biking. For the first time in years, Deb and I are able to focus some energy on being individuals, and not just on being parents. As a couple, we've lost almost 70 pounds, started exercising more (aka cycling), and had the time to seriously expand our interests in cooking and eating. We've been able to find food that is both healthier and tastier, and have enjoyed the extra time together in the kitchen preparing everything. Best of all, these new interests that have come from aging help make sure that we will have many more years of life to discover more new interests together. Everybody wants to be young, but I just don't get it - aging is AWESOME!

The least well-defined word in the English language

I have been sitting here for the last half hour watching the Johns Hopkins v. Navy lacrosse game on my DVR. This game features a couple of things close to my heart: lacrosse - the greatest sport ever invented, and Baltimore, which will always hold a special place in my heart. Baltimore is the city where I became a husband (maybe Charlottesville wins on this one, but only very temporarily), where I became a father, and where I became a teacher. Also while in Baltimore, I ran my first road race, so in a way, it's the city where I became a runner. Husband/father/teacher/runner - that pretty much sums up everything that is important to me, except for the more recent addition of cyclist. What does any of this have to do with the title of the blog post? The TV cameras keep focusing in on Dave Pietramala, the coach of the Johns Hopkins team. The shirt he is wearing says in large letters across the back, "FAMILY". That got me thinking about what that word means. In the year 2011, what is a family? It seems like such a simple concept, but the differences in the way people define that word result in some of the biggest fights today.

The irony of this whole thing is that I have one of the most stereotypically traditional families possible. Two parents, two kids, several pets - the fifties would be proud. Okay, so my wife makes more money than I do. The fifties might not be proud of that, but I definitely am! (And I hope my kids are too!) I have an adopted niece. While "family" may be the least well-defined word in the English language, "adoption" may be the most meaningless in my opinion. If somebody says, "This is my adopted daughter," that is just a waste of three syllables. The statement, "This is my daughter," says exactly the same thing. Who cares about the biology of the situation!? Family is family. Love is love.

I have several good friends who are in very stable, long-term homosexual relationships. Are those couples any less a family because they choose to risk the scorn of so many people to be with the person they love? All this talk about how gay marriage is going to ruin the institution of marriage is ridiculous! Again, love is love. Family is family. I have several good friends who have been in traditional marriages and have gotten divorced, but every friend of mine in a long-term homosexual relationship has made it work. Yes, that is anecdotal, and there are plenty of homosexual relationships that don't work out, but that doesn't make them any worse than, or any danger to, old-fashioned straight relationships.

Although I don't get to watch it as much as I would like, I am a big fan of the TV show "What Would You Do?" On the show, they have actors stage uncomfortable situations just to see how people will react. Not surprisingly, most people mind their own business and ignore what is going on, although some situations they have set up have definitely engendered more reactions than others. Last night, I watched the show and they set up a situation where a white woman and a black man were telling their parents in a restaurant that they were getting married. Both families were furious and let the "kids" know quite loudly that they disapproved of the inter-racial relationship. For the first time, almost everybody took the time to intervene in the situation. Has the US actually gotten to the point where almost everybody will go out of their way to say that an interracial family is okay? I'm too cynical to believe that's true, no matter how much I wish it were.

I recently had the privilege of reading a soon-to-be-published book by a former student of mine in which some of the main characters are a family of brothers who have lost their parents. In the book, the oldest brother has official custody of the other three, but there is a lot of tension with that relationship. Is he a brother or a parent? All of them struggle with that relationship in a very believable way. Can four teenage boys constitute a family? You cannot read this book without answering with a resounding YES even though it can be very difficult for them. What makes them a family? At times they can't even stand to be around each other, but when it comes down to it, they all want the best for each other. When one of them is in a dangerous situation, they all come to his aid. The oldest brother constantly struggles with the fact that, to keep them together, he has to be strict and make the others hate him at times. What matters most, though, is keeping them all together and keeping them safe. Even though most of the time, the four brothers are ready to kill each others, just like most siblings, when the going gets tough, they would die for each other in a second. Is that the definition of family? If so, that's a pretty high standard! Is it a better standard then biology? I'm not ready to say yes to that either. The definition of the word "family" is at the heart of so much legislation today, and I don't know what the best answer is. I can confidently say that I think the "good ole days" of the fifties are behind us and we are now living the "better new days" of the new millennium. In a lot of ways, I think it's unfortunate that we even have to attempt to define "family" because any definition inherently implies restrictions. If only we could all just say "family is family - love is love" and let that suffice!

Current Reading - Born to Run

As an off-and-on runner throughout my life, I've been intrigued by everything I've been hearing about this book. Yesterday, when I finished the book I was reading on my Kindle with 30 minutes left in my workout, I finally decided to give it a try. I'm only 15% in, but it's definitely worth the read. It hasn't changed my life or my running yet, but it definitely is reminding me of why I keep coming back to running. The way the Tarahumara approach running is the way we should approach everything in life. It's easy to say they "run for the fun of it," but I think there's a lot more to it than that. They understand the value of being able to run far and long and cultivate that skill. While they are doing it, though, they are completely in the moment. They enjoy the process of running, of interacting with earth at the most basic level, and they fully feel and appreciate that experience. This approach is the same thing that attracts me to Buddhism. Even pain and hardship can be appreciated and valued if you are open to the experience and accept it for what it is, no more or less. In the last three weeks before my first marathon, I am going to try and truly feel the experience of running and enjoy the feeling like a little kid. Forget about "goal times" and "race pace". The marathon is an experience that merits my full attention without the distractions of data and statistics. I'm going to charge up my iPod, put on some awesome tunes, and just run however it feels good. If it take 6 hours, so be it. If I run like Phoebe from Friends, even better. It's time to stop focusing on being happy at the end of the run and start focusing on being happy throughout every mile. Now if I can only figure out how to do that in the rest of my life!

The Guy in the Glass, by Peter "Dale" Wimbrow, Sr.

When you get what you want in your struggle for pelf, And the world makes you King for a day, Then go to the mirror and look at yourself, And see what that guy has to say. For it isn't your Father, or Mother, or Wife, Who judgement upon you must pass. The feller whose verdict counts most in your life Is the guy staring back from the glass. He's the feller to please, never mind all the rest, For he's with you clear up to the end, And you've passed your most dangerous, difficult test If the guy in the glass is your friend. You may be like Jack Horner and "chisel" a plum, And think you're a wonderful guy, But the man in the glass says you're only a bum If you can't look him straight in the eye. You can fool the whole world down the pathway of years, And get pats on the back as you pass, But your final reward will be heartaches and tears If you've cheated the guy in the glass.

From Will Grayson, Will Grayson

Far too often people make fun of Young Adult literature and tell people to read real books instead. Some of the best writing coming out right now is by Young Adult authors. My favorite is John Green. I've read everything he has published, some of it twice, and am continually touched by his insights. Will Grayson, Will Grayson is a terrific novel about teenagers searching for both self-acceptance and the appreciation of others. The characters are all a bit extreme, but very human. I will probably post a number of quotes from that book as I go. For today, the first is:

tiny: you know what? i'm totally at peace with being big-boned. and i was gay long before i knew what sex was. it's just who i am, and that's great. i don't want to be thin or conventionally beautiful or straight or brilliant. no, what i really want - and what i never get - is to be appreciated. do you know what it's like to work so hard to make sure everyone's happy, and to have not a single person recognize it? i can work my ass off bringing together the other will grayson and jane - no appreciation, only grief. i write this whole musical that's basically about love, and the main character in it - besides me, of course - is phil wrayson, who needs to figure some things out, but is all-in-all a pretty wonderful guy. and does will get that? no. he freaks out. i do everything i can to be a good boyfriend with you - no appreciation, only grief. i try to make this musical so it can create something, to show that we all have something to sing - no appreciation, only grief. this musical is a gift, will. my gift to the world. it's not about me. it's about what i have to share. there's a difference - i see it, but i am worried that i am the only frickin' one who sees it. you think i have it easy, will? are you really dying to try on these size fifteens? because every morning when i wake up, i have to convince myself that, yes, by the end of the day, i will be able to do something good. that's all i ask - to be able to do something good. not for myself, you whiny shithead bastard complainer who, incidentally, i really, really like. but for my friends. for other people.