Nostalgia is a powerful and often faulty lens. It can distort and makes the view seem at times softer and at times harsher than, in fact, it ever was.
I’ve been indulging myself in nostalgia these days as it occurs to me that my first 4th graders turn forty this year. Coincidentally, I turn thirty-nine. Go figure.
I have all their pictures hanging on the wall. They are gorgeous ten-year olds and it is quite impossible that they have pot bellies and graying temples and children in college. They will always be ten.
During a faculty meeting, I ran down some suggestions I had for speakers, videos, book lists, etc.
I was on a roll with grade-appropriate ways for my elementary school, located in the suburbs of Salt Lake City, to help our students understand the importance of this man and the movement he lead in bringing the United States out of segregation and closer to its vision, that all of us are equal under the civil law and under the moral principles of humanity.
And I was ticking off ideas until one of our teachers innocently raised his hand, genuinely confused, and said, “Excuse me, Lily. I don’t get why we’re doing this. We don’t have any black students here.”
Yesterday I was on a distinguished panel. The title of the conference was on the banner above our heads: A Penny Saved – How School Districts Can Tighten Their Belts and Serve Kids Better.
I know when I’m being set up.
But I also know when I’ve been given an opportunity. I’m a fairly noisy teacher, and I don’t get asked to formal things like this often (at least I don’t get asked twice.) Just as well. I find that distinguished people are very polite even when they disagree with you. This audience was very polite and listened quietly, taking notes. Something that can be painfully unnerving to a 6th grade teacher.
The forum sponsors sent me research papers in advance that dealt with lists of ways school districts could save pennies like turning down the thermostats or firing teachers or charging families bigger fees for sports or music or AP classes.
I was supposed to react to their suggestions and offer my own about how we could “tighten our belts” and “serve kids better.”
It is a heady thing to be asked to give your opinion. Into a microphone. With people taking notes. In seven minutes. Or less.
I am not a researcher. I am an excellent, professional, obviously humble 6th grade teacher from Utah. I have opinions on everything. And in this hearing room, with PhDs from Stanford and authors on best practices and researchers and statisticians, I had seven minutes to have folks understand, from the perspective of a practitioner, the opportunities and challenges and dangers of Closing the Achievement Gap between white children and children of other colors.
Would this audience understand we’re not talking about a test score? Would they understand that to define something as mind-blowingly complex as the achievement of a human-type child to a standardized test, you narrow what it means to teach and what it means to learn.
I was once on some talk show in Florida where a reporter said: Don’t you think you’re being a little hypocritical as a teacher being against tests.
The teacher debate and "the science of making stuff up." Must-read blog post from NEA VP Lily Eskelsen www.lilysblackboard.org http://twitter.com/NEAToday
NEA President Van Roekel to Congress: 'Focus on kids, fix the tests'. Read the story and testimony at www.neatoday.org http://twitter.com/NEAToday
Lesson plans, bios and other free resources for Women's History Month available at www.nea.org/tools/38436.htm http://twitter.com/NEAToday
