I don’t trust this guy. He looks like he means to make mischief of one kind or another. Photo by M. Severson

Any good parent will tell you they can’t make their children behave, but what they can do is make them want to behave. They can make them imagine the consequences of not behaving in a certain way and choose to do what is safest for their continued happiness.

Teachers will tell you teaching is not like that.

This is where teaching and parenting part ways. Teachers can develop dire outcomes to aberrant behaviors in many faceted forms and children will still choose the wrong path, no matter our resistance.

So that’s it, fine, we have no recourse, if children don’t want to learn, we can’t make them. It’s over, give up.

No, that’s why we have teachers.

What teachers can do, if fact what many teachers are really good at, is they can make children ready to learn. This is the penultimate divergence between parenting and teaching. Teachers check to see what skills children have before they try to teach them something. They evaluate student learning styles to see how the child processes new concepts and how best they internalize new ideas and teachers strive to make the learning of the material understandable and interesting so that the child is intrigued by the thought of pursuing it further.

Teachers spend most of their time preparing children so they are ready to learn, it is what they do.

Ready to learn. What an epiphany!

Our focus in education over the last few years has been directed at setting the curriculum (read test) and forcing the child to learn it or else. “Learn this or fail!” has been a hollow mantra that has resulted in increased frustration and growing despair among students and teachers alike.

Imagine if our cynosure was the child, themselves. What if we chose instead to ensure that the child had all they needed to be ready to learn before we demanded that they do it?

If you are working on your car would you get up in the morning and throw up the hood without first gathering tools, identifying the problem, making sure you had parts and perhaps even fixing yourself a cup of coffee to help ameliorate your mood at being forced to pursue the activity in the first place? No, you want to be prepared.

We owe our children at least this courtesy. Make sure they are ready to learn before we ask them to learn. Provide the stability and security of the freedom from hunger, disease, poverty or fear and then offer the enrichment of exposure to all the developmental prerequisites necessary to make the child feel confident they are prepared and yes, even eager to learn.

In some ways teachers are a little like military veterans. We share common experiences from our time “in the trenches” of teaching school on a daily basis. We have combated ignorance and sloth wherever we have found it. We do not face the danger or regimen of the service but there are similarities. Anyone who has been a classroom teacher successfully for several years belongs to this group. It is my sorrow to report that we lost a good one this last week. Bella Nymo, a good friend of mine for many years, succumbed to complications from emergency surgery.

I chose to use the military allusion because Bella was a warrior. Her teaching style was combative and rigorous. She refused to believe she could not get you to learn what she was teaching and she would pursue it to ultimate success. Her students always did well, she would make sure of that. As a teacher Mrs. Nymo was a bulldog.

She was adored by students and colleagues alike because unlike the current negative characterizations of teachers as lazy free-loaders and students as dispassionate somnambulists, students love a teacher who challenges them to learn and teachers foster that desire to learn as second nature.

There is another reason I chose the military characterization. I met Bella when I came to work at Smith Elementary, a school located on Davis-Monthan Air Force Base. She had already taught there for several years which was in synchronicitiy because her husband, Colonel Rolf Nymo (Ret.) had served at the base.

All teachers must spend some time developing a style of teaching that is comfortable to them, it is a process which can take several years. Bella and I could not have been much more disparate in our styles of teaching but I believe in our own ways we were both very effective. This fact just helps to demonstrate the premise that good teaching is not a menu, it is an art. As a teacher, Mrs. Nymo was an accomplished artist.

Eventually she was thinking of retirement. She talked to me about it because, her husband having passed away, she was afraid of giving up teaching entirely. Her life had been devoted to the profession for years and she wondered whether anyone would call on her so she could work occasionally as a substitute. I assured her she would not only be called but if she wanted she would be able to work as much as she desired.

In the end she retired and found out that I was right; at Smith alone we kept her as busy as she liked. I loved having her as a sub because when I got back the next day, not only had she followed my plans but all the papers were graded and my students had received feedback on mistakes they had made. I still don’t know how she did it all but I loved it.

After Smith closed she was again worried that she would be an unknown and wouldn’t be called but again she need not have worried. Rather quickly Bella was corralled by another school and became their number one substitute. It is a corollary of education that for principals and teachers, a good substitute is pure gold and when an experienced teacher retires and indicates their willingness to work as a sub, her name quickly becomes well known.

Over the years the former members of the Smith community has stayed in touch, getting together once a month and through this activity, Bella and I had stayed connected. So I was surprised when another of our alums had contacted everyone to say that she had gone into the hospital for emergency surgery and was in a coma. A few days later came the news that she had been taken off life support and had passed away surrounded by her family.

It is hard to accept that someone so full of humor and energy is gone. The rich life she lived while among us notwithstanding, Bella Nymo was a jewel and when such treasures vanish inexplicably it is especially difficult for those who knew her so well to endure.

But the real tragedy is not just that I have lost another friend it is also that our profession has lost a consummate educator.

I remember a brown duck. It was the next to the last duck in the line of little quackers that marched in identical form across the wall above the chalkboard. They were identical in form and expression but each was a different color with a word identifying their color in bold letters beneath each one. I stared at that duck. I hated that brown duck. And my enmity was directed at the representative of the anatidae family simply because for the life of me I could not spell the word ‘brown’ correctly.

As a student I struggled in first grade. I sat there amazed at how much everyone else knew. Of course I had two strikes against me — I was the youngest in the class, not turning six until December and I was a boy. These are not excuses, they are facts, they are realities.

In our fervor to adopt the new Common Core Standards we have set ambitious goals. I am on-board with this. I don’t shirk hard work as demonstrated by my catching up with my classmates by the second grade and going on to excel in school. It is also proven by my choosing to become a teacher.

But this isn’t about me.

It is about the impact of our desires that our children all excel in school. When my daughter was accepted in a advanced program, for gifted students we were told she would be bused to another school where a special class of high achieving students were all grouped together. Much to the surprise of the administrator of the program, my wife and I, both career educators said, “No thank you.” Our daughter was attending the public school we had chosen for her, she was in a class where we greatly respected the teacher, we felt there was no reason for her to go anywhere. It was nice to know she had qualified for the class but she would stay where she was.

But this isn’t about my daughter.

What this is about is our children. We all want what is best for our children. We want them to achieve the most they can in life and we want to be proud of them. But in the end we have to be proud of ourselves too. Parents have to be able to look back on their stewardship of a new human and know that what they did was in the best interest and to the best of their abilities as parents.

It isn’t about being right or wrong. It is about choosing the things for your child that they aren’t qualified to choose for themselves. As adults we must decide what we want for our children. That is why education is such a hot button issue with many people. You are trusting another adult to deliver what your child needs to learn.

Most of us vaguely remember what we did in school. But the specifics are less clear, they show up in the skills we have and how we employ those skills in our daily lives. I doubt if there are many parents who do not care about what their children are learning but the I also believe the same is true of most teachers.

Teachers take their job seriously. After thirty plus years in this field I know this. You cannot show up ready to wrangle a classroom full of children and not be focused and serious about what you do. Yes, there are people who fail as teachers but they do not last long.

The same is true of students. There are children who fail as students, at least in the standard sense. In every class there are students who struggle for whatever reason in their attempts to learn what everyone else is already doing. We all have our brown ducks, smiling down at us taunting us that we cannot do something no matter how hard we try. Self-doubt is the greatest ally of failure.

That is why we owe it to our children not to set walls up that they will slam up against. It is not in their best interest to say, ‘you failed, do it again’. The proper response is “I see this is hard for you, let me try another way to help you’. We need to adapt education to the multitude of needs evinced by our modern world. We should not be narrowing education, forcing children to all conform, we should be broadening it, expanding it and opening up the potential that each individual child has so that they can best assume their place in this complex world.

Our new Common Core standards seek to encourage students to think. In approaching the completion of these goals we need to offer a greater variety of teaching tools and methods, not a smaller array. We must empower our teachers and support them. We have to provide strong, developmentally correct, early childhood enrichment for all children. Schools build the future, we need to support them to the best of our abilities, not the most cost effective. The investment will be worth it. Here in Arizona and elsewhere in the United States I believe that adoption of the Common Core is only the beginning of the process of reforming American achievement and making our schools all they can be. We have much still to do.

In a thoughtful article Walt Gardner discusses just some of the ramifications around school closures (“Unintended Consequences of Shuttering Schools” 1). His arguments focus on the effects surrounding the closing of schools in rural environments where population has a major effect on enrollment. Interestingly enough a similar argument can be posed for the current decrease in enrollment in a metro setting like Tucson.

While in the case of the rural Texas schools Gardner cites the populations are often leaving to find employment elsewhere, here, in Tucson, the inner city is being abandoned for peripheral areas. The exponential growth of satellite communities such as Marana and Vail near Tucson results in decreased enrollment and subsequent loss of revenue for inner city schools.

I have been through the closing of a school, you could say I’m a school closure survivor. In the case of my school there was another slightly larger school just a half a mile away that could easily absorb our population and make the one consolidated campus more efficient by maximizing enrollment while reducing many of the costs of maintaining two sites. It really was a ‘no-brainer’.

I was a relative newcomer to the staff of this particular school. I had only been there nine years. It was one of those schools where members of the staff never left voluntarily. The school was on the Air Force base, the kids were very motivated, the parents were involved and on those rare occasions when you called home you usually got someone and they responded.

If I may indulge my raconteur’s penchant for a moment, there was one incident where I had to call the parents of one girl who had become ill. Her  dad happened to be a Colonel. I called home but Mom was out so after leaving a message I called dad’s work phone. A female Airman answered and I asked for Mr. —–. She replied icily, “You mean, Colonel ——?” I said, “Yes, I’m sorry this is his daughter’s teacher, Mr Severson . . .” “Oh excuse me Mr. Severson, certainly, I will connect you right away.”

It was that kind of environment . A throwback to a time where teachers were respected, school work was turned in on time and homework always done. That’s probably why no one ever left, at least, as I said, not voluntarily.

And yet, we were all on borrowed time.

A thunderbolt struck. We found out that our school might be scheduled for closure and our students would be merging with those at another school. At first we didn’t believe it. But slowly it became more than just a rumor. Finally we met to discus it.

It now became obvious that they were seriously thinking of closing our school and merging the two populations and we were horrified. It was true our school was small, no more than two classes per grade level and a total population under 300. But data showed small schools at the elementary level were better for students (2) (3) (4). Closing our school may have made monetary sense, but we still fought against it tooth and nail.

It was, of course, inevitable. The school closed and the following year all our students were consolidated into the population of the other school. Meanwhile the staff that had worked together for so long scattered to the winds and though we keep in touch with a monthly brunch, it’s just not the same. There is universal agreement among my former colleagues that no matter how good our current schools are, we all miss the community we once were part of.

Beyond the camaraderie, there is a greater issue. Schools are not just institutions where service is delivered. They are often the most stable environment in the lives of the children they educate. Many of our students today are arriving at day care by 6 and staying until 6. Their time in school is the core of their busy lives. The teachers are aware of this, that’s one of the reasons they keep coming back despite the loss of funding, lack of adequate support and the general lack of respect for their profession that is currently in vogue.

Closing a school may make economic sense but in terms of the human effect and affects, the losses are potentially tragic.

(1) http://blogs.edweek.org/edweek/walt_gardners_reality_check/2012/01/aftermath_of_shuttering_schools.html

(2) http://www.smallerschools.org/research.php?ref=school-size

(3) http://www.straightdope.com/columns/read/3009/are-smaller-elementary-school-class-sizes-better

(4) http://pixel.cs.vt.edu/edu/size.html

One thing that amazes me as I navigate my 62nd year on this earth is the number of people I have known who are gone. I saw a posting on Facebook about the death of Bill Rathje and it brought a flood of feelings that I hadn’t thought of in a long time.

A colleague of his at Stanford, Michael Shanks writes eloquently of Bill 1) and if you have any interest in modern archaeology theory you probably already know his name. I know him because he was one of the young lions in the University of Arizona, Anthropology department when I was studying archaeology back in the late 60s and early 70s.

One particular incident I remember is they day I had car trouble and showed up late for a test. I shrugged and held up my hands as if to say, “What do you expect? I’m 18 years old.” Shaking his head and saying something close to, “Severson, you’re incorrigible.” he smiled that amazing smile of his and took me to his office so I could take the test there. He was that kind of teacher.

But it wasn’t always hearts and roses. I remember later in a graduate level course I was aghast that he did not know on sight, the difference between the two main towns of Chaco Canyon, Chettro Ketl and Pueblo Bonito and I told him so in class. I was full of myself as a southwestern archaeologist because at 21 I’d already been in the field several seasons, but at the same time I was way out of line. I was actually “swift boating ” Bill by saying he did not really know his stuff. Though he was obviously embarrassed at my reproof he took it well and chose not to destroy me, which as a full professor in archaeology talking to a kid who still hadn’t finished his BA, he had every right to do.

The one thing that I remember most about Bill Rathje was that he was a teacher. Of all the anthropology classes I had at the university his were the most exciting and interesting. And this was with an array of instructors that included Bernard Fontana, William Longacre, Edward Spicer, Keith Basso, T. Patrick Culbert and Jerrold Levy among others; an amazing collection of anthropological minds.

If you are interested in reading more about Bill you can go here: http://uanews.org/node/47560

But I have chosen to focus on him now in death for another reason than his pioneering work in the theory of archaeology. Writing in the New York Times, Gary Gutting discusses the nature of teaching specific to the ancient technique of lecture. He argues that K-12 schools should adopt a similar style of recruiting teachers as colleges do. 2)

He says: So why not make use of all this talent to develop an elite class of professionals — like those who teach in our colleges — and give them primary responsibility for K-12 education? One objection is that teaching children and teenagers requires a set of social/emotional abilities — to empathize, to nurture, to discipline — that have little connection with the intellectual qualities of the “best” college students. But there is no reason to think that people who are smart, articulate and enthusiastic about ideas are in general less likely to have these non-intellectual abilities. The idea is to choose those who have both high intellectual ability and the qualities needed to work successfully with children at a given grade level. Moreover, it’s important that teachers be — as they now often are not — credible authority figures, a status readily supported by the justified self-confidence and prestige of an elite professional.

I, for one, must take offense at the idea that K-12 teachers, sans doctorates in most cases, are any less qualified to teach children than a college professor. I also argue that the lack of teachers as ‘credible authority figures’ is due to the current “swift boating” campaign that has been launched against them.

If you have forgotten, “swift boating” involves attacking someone at the area of their strength, denying over and over again, despite proof to the contrary, that they are competent and lacking somehow in that particular quality that they have previously been recognized for.

Responding to Gutting in his Blog, Walt Gardner 3) says that just because you are knowledgeable does not mean you can convey that knowledge to others; as nearly all of the math teachers I came into contact with over the years have proven.

But when I think of great lecturers, who could make you think and engage you even as he stood there and told you information, Bill Rathje comes to mind. When he talked about the things he knew about, you could not help but listen and laugh and remember. He was, above all, a consummate teacher.

And that is really the crux of my argument. The “swift boating” of American teachers is faceless and general. It does not focus on individuals though they all suffer the indictment no matter how unfair. Teachers teach to their strengths, their styles are as myriad as they are, but their effectiveness can not be graded by one measure, no matter what that is. Do we need to reform American education? Of course we do, and we have reformed and we continue to do so. There has never been a time in my 33 odd years as an educator that I have not worked to refine my craft and improve my instruction and most of my colleagues have been even more diligent than I have in this respect.

Oh, and about that time I called Dr Rathje out; I did not entirely escape his wrath. But good teacher that he was he chose to unleash it, fully warranted I may add, when he reviewed my next paper. The flames of red ink rising off that document are still mentally visible in my mind’s eye, even after nearly 40 years. Whew, hot stuff!

1) http://www.mshanks.com/2012/05/30/bill-rathje/

2) http://opinionator.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/06/07/who-should-teach-our-children/

3) http://blogs.edweek.org/edweek/walt_gardners_reality_check/2012/06/telling_is_not_teaching.html

I got a unique opportunity this week; at least I hope it was unique. I got to play principal for three days. It’s not a job I really enjoy and it’s not that I am not familiar with it. It may be that I am too familiar with it. I was the summer school principal for several sessions in another district. It’s just that it is a very chaotic and demanding job.

My routine this week consisted of walking in and stopping at the office to find out what decisions were needed right now. We are blessed with a very strong office staff and yet there was always something, I mean at least as a teacher I get to unlock my door before most crises accost me.

That’s why they pay the principals the big bucks.

A good principal is golden for a school. They can provide support, encourage staff and students, prepare lists of potential realistic, long-range goals and fill many other necessary roles. Still they must always remember what their number one responsibility is. The term principal comes from Principal Teacher: the principal should be the example and driving force that ensures that the curriculum is delivered to every student. Amid whatever else occurs, and you would not believe some of the things I am referring to; they must keep their eye on the prize — the successful completion of another school year.

Fortunately I was only charged with ‘holding down the fort’ until my principal returned. The more esoteric role described above was not in my purview. That was good because I was dealing with a personal tragedy most of the last two weeks that consumed much of my waking consciousness. A week ago Friday, there was a death in my family — it was my hard drive.

That evening my MacBook was working sluggishly and I was seeing the twirling rainbow that told me it was a little confused as to what I wanted it to do so I decided to shut it down and restart. Unfortunately it didn’t restart, it just kept shutting down.

The problem was exacerbated by a long held intention of mine that had never come to fruition — I had not backed up my files. Thanks to my friend, John and the wizards at Simutek I was back in business in a few days, a few hundred dollars poorer and hopefully a whole lot wiser. Along with my new hard drive I also purchased a stand alone hard drive as a back-up. Turns out my Mac had a program just for that that makes it all ridiculously simple. (I do hate being patronized by my own computer!)

Computers and principals share a unique similarity. They both must operate a wide variety of programs effectively and maintain a certain equanimity in doing so. When my computer would not restart, I felt abandoned and alone. Teachers can relate. A good principal can mitigate some of those feelings in their teachers by their leadership, support and collegiality while still maintaining their position as the pre-emptive leader of the school. It is a difficult job that requires dedication and seemingly unending hard work to do well.

Meanwhile I served as my principal’s backup, hopefully maintaining her data retrieval and appropriate presence at our school until she would return. I functioned reasonably efficiently, didn’t freeze up and the little rainbow twirl was not too often in evidence as I attempted to navigate the teaming waters of the ever-changing elementary seas at least approximately as she would have. Upon her return I happily relinquished the tiller to her more capable and willing hands.