The Great Ones

It’s the Teachers, Stupid

Think about the greatest teacher you ever had. 

There’s nothing quite like a truly Great Teacher.  If you were lucky to have one, you know exactly what I’m talking about.  

The Great Ones were cool, man.  They seemed to have effortless mastery of the content.  They knew how to manage the class; they made jokes sometimes but always at the perfect time.  They were occasionally terrifying, but you killed yourself for their approval.  They might have looked horrible—no fashion sense, homely, downright ugly or bizarre—but you didn’t care.  At times they may have pissed you off, at times they may have made you cry:  but they changed you.

Like great athletes, mechanics, doctors, or pilots, they acted in the moment, made split-second decisions, and had access to great instinct and skill.  

And they made you want to be a better version of yourself.

Greatness Is Invisible To the System

You ever notice how little official "love" the Great Teachers got at your school?  The Great Teachers were often off on their own, doing their own thing, while other Good Teachers (and sometimes Lousy Teachers) were carried around on shoulders, having parties thrown in their honor, t-shirts made about them and crap like that.

In fact, Great Teachers were often scary or annoying to other teachers and staff.  Some of the kids didn't get them or even hated them.

I always turn into Holden Caufield when I talk about this stuff.  Celebrations of teachers often just feel like a Festival of Phonies.

It’s kind of gross.  Our educational system, of course, does practically nothing to attract, develop, or sustain Great Teachers.  Great Teachers exist IN SPITE of the constantly changing weather of education: the movements, the swings, the trends, and the political fray.  This is because Great Teachers are not managed, supervised, or led into being Great.  

         How does a Great Teacher "happen?" 
         There are only three ways-- and none of them are 
         addressed by our school systems.  
        Great Teachers are...

            1.  BORN great-- all the talents are there
            2.  MAKE THEMSELVES great on their own

            3.  are coached or mentored by an 
                 OTHER Great Teacher

            

That’s the problem.  Even though almost everyone in any school knows who the Great Teachers are in it, school managers have no “official” way of identifying them.  Administrators, generally not great teachers themselves, lack the skills or tools to even recognize Great Teachers.  They look at test scores, student behavior, and parent feedback—none of which consistently identifies Greatness in teaching.  

Squandering Resources

We don't spend any time actually talking about Great Teachers.  Like so many other teachers, I have sat through hundreds of hours of "professional development" that are not only insulting, they're ridiculously devoid of anything that can help me get better at my job.  Mind-numbing, soul-crushing, pencil-stabbing-your eye stuff.  And when I look at the few Great Teachers on my faculty (everyone always knows who the Greats are), I can't believe how ignored they are.  It's a sad and deplorable waste of time and resources. 

Our goal is to raise test scores?  Are you serious?  What are you smoking?  We don’t need better tests and test scores, better tutoring systems or education models, happier parents, happier students, better computers…

We need Great Teachers.  It's the whole thing, man.  

Earthquake Virgin

“The only source of knowledge is experience.”

Albert Einstein

Adam's leg was bouncing up and down in a kind of nervous shake. My friend Ryan and I were talking about art with him and his mom and sister. Sitting at a table on the sidewalk of the American Cafe, they were waiting for their food. And this kid's freakin' leg was going overtime.

“Who came up with 'Restless Leg Syndrome?' Did they make a lot of money from it?” I wondered to myself. It's genius if they did. Anyway, that's what was rocking the table so much, I thought. Some anxious kid shaking his leg.

And that was my whole experience of the earthquake.

For the rest of the sunny August afternoon, people shared their own off-kilter stories-- on the internet, tv, radio, in streets and shops, over food and drink, talking of how they hadn't experienced anything like it before. Most people told versions of the same tale:

“I thought it was the subway...”

“A huge truck rumbling by...”

“The boiler broke down...”

"I thought I was sick or something..."

“The neighbor's house was crumbling...”

“Someone was rocking my car...”

The story BECAME the story as everyone told and listened and retold and relistened. Some of my New York friends joked that people from California would laugh at all of us for making such a big deal. And many Californians did laugh, rolling their eyes at our near hysteria over a little “temblor” that appeared to have done almost no damage anywhere. To those who live in earthquake zones, we were like teenage girls hysterical over the newest boy pop idol talking to silvering beauties who, 40 years ago, fainted at Beatles concerts.

For those of us who have never experienced an earthquake, it was a moment of dumbstruck confusion. It was reminiscent of September 11^th, if only briefly, because of the absolute lack of context for so many of us. We had no idea what was happening AS IT WAS happening.  

How did people react?  Well, some just cried like babies during a thunderstorm, or like Mets fans in late summer.  Others whooped it up like helmetless daredevils racing motorcycles, thrilled to have had the (terribly pathetic) opportunity to cheat death.  I was in this group, of course.  Still others yawned, shook their heads at the commotion, and went back to work.

As a teacher observing this range of response, this is very interesting.

Give Some Love To the Newbs

You see, all of us quake newbs became what we, in school, ask every student to be: disoriented, clueless, and lost. Students learning new concepts or skills are often completely stupefied. And here's where we in schools mess it up. We see these stupefied kids as STUPID. Instead of seeing them as simply dazed, we see them as unable or weak.

In fact, we see ignorance as either "virginity" (which must be protected ) or "idiocy" (which must be ridiculed or destroyed). In fact, ignorance is merely a stage in the learning process.

Think again about the earthquake. Here is a case study on how people act when they are dumbfounded. It is a sneak peak into how people deal with a donkey punch of not knowing what's going on.

What are you like when you have no idea what's happening? When you've lost your bearings? When nothing makes sense?

The best learners are not good at mastering the material. The best learners are good at being lost. They get slammed with a new experience, are dizzy and confused, and then... they try to figure it out.

So, what am I saying this pansy little earthquake is telling us hysterical quake survivors?  What badge of courage have we all earned from this (lack of) wreckage and terror?

Embrace your newbness! You don't know what the hell is happening? You can't tell your arse from your elbow? Good! You're in the perfect place. You should get lost more often.

Now: learn, you moron.