First some background, then a rant, and finally a point.
At the end of my WWII unit, I give a full lecture on the decision to use the atomic bomb on Japan. I display supporting pictures, give arguments from both sides, and show documentary footage of the aftermath of the explosion and radiation. This includes extensive survivor interviews and footage that had previously been suppressed. We discuss the moral implications of using the bomb as well as the military arguments. We ponder questions such as, “Do the ends justify the means?” “Did dropping the bomb actually save lives by immediately ending the war?” Finally, I tell them the story of Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes. A story of a young girl from Hiroshima who slowly dies in the hospital from leukemia as a result of the bomb blast and is desperately trying to fold a thousand cranes so that her wish to become well will be granted. The story is emotional and is a powerful moment for the class. At the end, I tell them of the monument honoring Sadako that is in the Hiroshima Peace Park and the inscription that reads, “This our cry, this our prayer, peace in the world.” I bring out a garland made entirely of a thousand small cranes and then tell the class that, to honor Sadako and innocent victims of war, I will teach them to fold a paper crane. The last section of the Sadako day is spent with me leading them through the folds. Every student leaves with a self-made crane.
O.K., there’s the background…now comes the rant!
We just had a WASC (Western Assoc. of Schools and Colleges) accreditation visit at our school. The visiting team was well led and left with a positive impression of our school. All things considered, it was a meaningful and productive process. HOWEVER, and this is a big however, one thing happened that got my blood boiling and it has taken a long time to let it go. One of the visiting committee members came into my class during the last 10 minutes of the Sadako lesson as I was leading the class through the final folds. He approached a student sitting on the counter (that’s right…more students than seats!) and asked what class it was. Upon hearing that it was U.S. History, he looked around and said judgmentally under his breath (but loud enough for multiple students in the area to hear), “What does this have to do with U.S. History?” He then walked to the back wall and left after a couple of minutes.
“What does this have to do with U.S. History?” Are you kidding me? You’re going to come into my class for 3 minutes and see something totally removed from any context and then drop that line? Let’s forget about how unprofessional it is to say something like that in front of a group of my students. I can get over that because they all thought he was a complete idiot…they knew exactly what it had to do with U.S. History. How about this…if you really want to know, why don’t you @#&@ing ask me?!! Instead, you make a misguided, arrogant judgment and leave just as ignorant as you entered.
Then I hear that in one of the final leadership meetings, an English teacher was criticized because students were drawing a picture of a Greek god as part of a project on mythology. The comment was, “Is that really an example of rigor in an English class?”
Yeah, God forbid that we incorporate artistic elements and creativity into a class outside of the art department. Next thing you know, kids might start enjoying school and become well-rounded individuals.
I know I’m going to get into trouble with some of you now, but let’s be careful with this word “rigor.” I looked it up and here is what the Merriam-Webster Online Dictionary says:
- “harsh inflexibility in opinion, temper, or judgment
- severity
- the quality of being unyielding or inflexible
- strictness, severity of life, austerity
- an act or instance of strictness, severity, or cruelty
- a tremor caused by a chill
- a condition that makes life difficult, challenging, or uncomfortable”
Wow! I don’t want any of these definitions to describe my class. The only good thing in the whole definition is the word “challenging.” Harsh inflexibility in opinion? Severity? Cruelty? A condition that makes life uncomfortable? No thanks!
I know, I know…that’s not what educators mean when they throw the word around so often. Nevertheless, I think it’s important that we clearly define it and be a little careful. I hope it doesn’t just mean a bigger workload for students. It better not mean more hours of homework or classes that are just harder to pass. If you are talking about improving higher order thinking skills and offering students the opportunity for meaningful and challenging work then I’m all for it. More real world applications? Sounds good! I just think that a lot of people who use that word have never bothered to look it up. I also think that some people have no idea what meaningful and challenging work is. After all, creativity is one of the highest forms of thinking that exists but yet some don’t want to let students have an opportunity to express it. They see it as a “soft” skill…not “rigorous” enough. We clearly have some work to do.
Now let’s move on to the point. You will be criticized! In fact, the more you step outside the box and reject the culture of conformity, the more of a target you will become. Of course, you should take an honest look and see if the criticism might be an opportunity for growth, but it is also possible that your critic has no idea what they are talking about! You have to have the intestinal fortitude, self-confidence, and personal power to press on and do what you know is right for kids. Don’t let misguided and ill-informed critics steal your enthusiasm for innovation and sap you of the strength needed to persist in this brutally tough profession. You have to learn how to take a punch, bob and weave, and keep moving forward. What we do is too important to let somebody standing on the sidelines prevent you from being the absolutely most powerful teacher that you can be. Some people will just never get it! That’s O.K., that’s their problem and you can’t let it become yours.
I don’t think anyone has ever said it better than Teddy Roosevelt:
“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”
-Theodore Roosevelt
It’s easy to stand against the back wall and be a critic. Meanwhile, the rest of us will keep wiping the dust, sweat, and blood off our face because we’re in the arena.
Dave Burgess