Subscribe now

When I started this blog in August, I said I was going to post once per week.  That was the intent, but as always, life has other intentions.  I realize now that posting every week was a little too ambitious for me, but even more than that, I have been away for so long to address some of my own personal struggles with mental health, a journey that is not yet over. Yet, this journey is precisely what brings me to my reflections on education today.

In schools across the country (no doubt, around the world), schools and students are experiencing a significant mental health crisis.  I recognize that this term can be thrown around with hyperbole, but I mean every bit of it.  I’ve read the statistics and I’ve seen it firsthand.  Since COVID-19 closures, many students have struggled to deal with their own sense of loss, both personal and academic.  They’ve struggled even more to regain footing in a world that prioritizes individualism and independence over community—a world that all but collapsed when closures shut down the only forms of community that many had.  As a rite of developmental passage, students have always struggled with forming their identities, but that identity formation is now sometimes more handicapped as they struggle with reversing the malformation that occurred over two years of increased social media and technology immersion, aggravated and angry political discourse, compounding traumatic experiences, and a lack of truly interpersonal interactions and guidance.  I see the results of these struggles in attention-seeking and risky behaviors, increases in depression and anxiety, and severe academic losses.

As much as it may seem otherwise, the point of this post is not to belabor the point that today’s students are struggling, but rather to think through one particular way that teachers and other educators can serve as a presence of hope and growth in the midst of these struggles.  That way is simple but profound—vulnerability.  It may come as a shock to their students, but teachers and administrators have their own profound loss and disruption from during the pandemic, as well as before and since.  In fact, adults in any profession often carry around tremendous trauma and grief, with many not expressing their deepest hurts to those around them.  What I’m not advocating for is a vulnerability free-for-all, but rather a measured attempt by educators to reveal more of themselves for the sake of their students and themselves.  This revelation has humanizing qualities, showing students that adults struggle too.  It also enables the practice of empathy and compassion, two traits that are often missing in today’s society and in fact form the basis for much of the social-emotional learning that many districts are currently pushing. 

More than anything, however, educators have the ability to be “wounded healers”—a term coined by late theologian Henri Nouwen to describe how individuals that work through pain to heal their own wounds can then become a healer to someone else, helping them through their own grief and trauma.  There are many ways to engage in the practice of healing, but basic vulnerability is one, and such a practice has immense potential for fostering community in schools and classrooms where it may be sorely lacking.  The details of what is appropriate to share and not share must of course be worked through, but let us not miss the key point—vulnerability can make a difference in the healing process of others and ourselves.

If I am to advocate for vulnerability, I have learned over my life that I must lead by example, and to that end I want to end with sharing some of my own story.  Some people know, but many others do not, that I have struggled with my own mental health issues for several years, being placed on medication for anxiety and depression and receiving counseling for much of that time period.  In the last 7 years, I have come off of my medication three times, with each resulting in a relapse of severe symptoms a month later.  When I’m healthy, I’m productive and love interacting with others, sharing life, and constantly being on the go.  When I’m going through a crisis, I literally struggle to function and to get out of the spiraling thoughts in my head. 

One of these crises started happening again in late August, shortly after my last post, and after finally getting in for two different psychiatric evaluations, I was diagnosed with obsessive compulsive disorder, a diagnosis that explained years of struggle.  OCD is a lot more severe than the typical displays of it on TV shows, and in fact has a suicide rate that is 10X the normal average (thankfully, that wasn’t me).  It manifests in many different ways and latches onto many different areas for different people, and can take the form of outward compulsions or just inward ruminating thoughts.  The latter is how it is for me—I struggle less with physically doing repetitive behaviors and more with repetitive thoughts that are fear-based and feel like I’m stuck in quick sand and can’t get out. 

I’ll save further details of my OCD for another time, but it’s important to note that I’m still on my own journey.  But even while I’m on my journey, and you are on yours, we can still both be healing agents for our students and others by inviting them into our own vulnerable story, thus giving them permission to share theirs.  And in the sharing of stories is where compassion awakens and healing begins, even if for the simple fact that now, our students know they are not alone. 

Leave a comment

Share

Subscribe now

What does it mean to be fully human?  What does human nature consist of?  These might seem like random questions for a blog on remixing education, but I believe they are at the core of how we should think about any educational restructuring.  For millennia, philosophers have been contemplating these questions and coming up with various answers, but one thing remains consistent—humans are multifaceted and complex, with various dimensions that all need development in order to truly thrive. 

One of the answers to this question comes from the Christian Bible, in which humans are instructed to love God with all their heart, soul, mind, and strength (Mark 12:30).  Let’s say that these four areas correspond roughly to the idea that being fully human then consists of relationships/community, internal reflection and mystery, intellect, and capacity for action/doing.  One doesn’t need to be Christian to appreciate the usefulness of this framework for understanding the inward and outward dimensions of human life.  One also mustn’t be a Christian to see that neglect of these various dimensions often leads to inhibited growth and an unhealthy life.  If I consistently engage in action, or doing work, and don’t reserve space to develop my reflective capacity, then I’m likely to shortchange my emotional growth and make decisions that don’t adequately account for my limitations.  Similarly, if I focus on action but don’t spend enough time engaging my mind in study, I will likely make uninformed decisions and act in ways that are literally thoughtless and possibly harmful.  And finally, if I focus on action to the detriment of relationships, I lose the valuable perspective and collaboration from others that I often need to be successful, happy, and empathic, as well as become aware of my own biases.  Development of all four areas are critical to having a well-balanced and healthy personhood.

My contention is that public education typically overemphasizes one area of humanity, the mind, for students, thus forming many individuals who believe that gaining more knowledge is the basis for a good life and a good career.  And even if this is not a consciously chosen belief, it’s one that structures how many are implicitly taught to live.  Developing character, virtue, and ethical action, while often historically espoused as a purpose of education, are now rarely codified and included as explicit objectives.  Cultivating imagination and creativity, or right-brain thinking, is lauded publicly, but course requirements and standardized assessments show how little our systems really value them.  And collaboration amongst students definitely continues to increase in emphasis, yet our classrooms remain siloed without adequate cross-curricular learning and our schools are still hyper-individualistic in performative assessments.  In short, most of our public education is still modeled in many ways on consumption—consuming information and spitting it back out. 

On the faculty and administrator side of things, development is not much better.  Teachers and administrators, especially in underserved schools, are usually so busy “doing” that they have little time for researching best practices (mind), reflecting on their own teaching and leading (soul), or collaborating with others (heart).  On both sides, if being fully human includes development of all four areas mentioned above, is it too strong to say that our systems are dehumanizing because they neglect this full development? 

There are some who will argue that they want schools to only focus on the mind because the other areas are better left to families, churches, etc.  I’m sympathetic in some ways to this argument because I do think that the development of character and values, for instance, are primarily the domain of these other institutions.  I do not think, however, that it is feasible or desired to only leave schools to deal strictly with the intellect because schools are also inherently sites of socialization.  There is no way to get around the fact that students engage with each other and with faculty in myriad ways for around 8 hours a day, so whether we like it or not, that socialization is heading in a particular direction—that is, to say, it’s not neutral.  I would rather schools intentionally develop these other areas in some ways, in partnership with families where appropriate, rather than ignore them and let implicit narratives and socialization proceed unexamined.  In any case, what I’m advocating is not any particular beliefs or values to indoctrinate students, but rather space and practices that allow for more full development.  And students, for their part, will likely welcome the more authentic and diverse experiences.

Putting it into Practice

To develop students more fully, a detailed, thoughtful plan should really be created.  Since there is not space for this here, I’ve included some initial suggestions to get started.  As you will see, most of what I recommend is at a systems level because teachers and administrators are frequently constrained by the policies and structures they inherit.  In case you didn’t already know, school reform is a broad issue, not limited to individual schools. 

Mind (intellect)-

Schools already emphasize intellectual development in many ways, but much of it is still too heavy on consumption.  Students need to be challenged to see multiple perspectives and ways of understanding things, ultimately parsing through information to come to their own conclusions.  This process has a basis in understanding “facts,” but facts are not the most important part of learning—questions are.  I advocate for cultivating curiosity through exposure and teaching students how to solve problems.  Many schools have problem-based and project-based learning approaches, which is more authentic to the real world.  This develops the mind more fully while also incorporating cross-curricular learning and collaboration.  The problem is this: state standards don’t typically value these modes of instruction and they definitely don’t have effective assessments for them.  Teachers can create novel ways to incorporate more project-based and problem-based learning, but it would be a lot easier if policies provided them more space for collaboration and showed that this type of learning was valued in how they assess.

Developing the mind also means not just developing one part of it.  The arts have been sidelined for too long as underfunded and undervalued electives that students may or may not take.  Not all students are artistic in the same way, but all students can learn to develop their creativity and imagination through the arts.  It’s up to us to push that.  Emphasizing the arts undermines the notion that economics is the dominating factor for what schools should value.  It also exposes students to alternate means to convey truths and capture meaning, which can be very valuable in their own quest to make a better world.  Finally, the arts have also been shown to contribute to positive educational outcomes in general, whether through developing different neural pathways, encouraging greater school engagement, or helping students develop confidence.

Soul (reflection and mystery)-

Let’s face it, most individuals, young or old, don’t do well reserving time for internal reflection despite our knowledge that it’s necessary for growth.  We also understand that practices like journaling help us process our emotions and relate to others in healthier ways.  What I’m advocating for is simple—prioritize time and space for students and faculty to simply reflect, with guiding questions if necessary.  No need to share if it’s not wanted.  This goes against the idea that we constantly have to do something active in school.  No, we don’t.  And if this space and time are valued and structured effectively, my bet is that student behavior problems would decrease and achievement would actually increase.

Another element to the soul, however, is that we recognize and make space for mystery.  Mystery refers to the element of transcendence in our world—an acknowledgement of the things we cannot know or fully understand.  In an education system that prioritizes answers and knowing, we need to sit with ourselves and reflect on the mysteries in and around us.  This is spiritual in a sense, yes, but it need not be sectarian.  It’s important for students to acknowledge mystery and the limits of their knowledge and control, as this helps develop humility, awareness, and the ability to hold various ideas in tension. It also leads to a sense of awe and appreciation as they learn to reflect on the complexities of the world around them.  This sense of awe is so often what is lacking in consumer education, and helping bring it back could do wonders for student engagement.

Strength (action/doing)-

Students need space for actually doing hands-on learning, which many teachers know and already try to incorporate.  Career-technical education courses are also great for this.  My primary concern, once again, is that our siloed classrooms often don’t offer enough opportunity for truly meaningful action.  I think CTE courses should be more integrated into traditional school curriculum, just like the arts, such that students get more exposure to valuable trades, they learn how their math and science courses are directly applicable (taught in conjunction with those core teachers) in real life, and they gain needed critical thinking skills.  CTE courses are often thought of as classes where students who are less intellectual go.  I’m not suggesting that some students aren’t more prone to intellectual work versus working with their hands.  What I am suggesting, however, is that this area need not be dualistic—students can and should learn both hands on skills and critical thinking skills in the same space.  This is important for creating well-rounded citizens for a democratic society, as well as developing competent humans who can understand and appreciate the complexities of different fields and how everything works together.

Beyond traditional classroom space, what I believe needs to occur is also a greater emphasis on serving others as part of the “action” focus.  Many people in general are self-centered, but teenagers in particular struggle with seeing the world solely through their lens.  I think it’s important for schools to push back on this tendency by purposefully incorporating service learning activities.  Additionally, action-oriented education means that students can learn to solve community-related problems that affect those around them, ultimately combining problem-based learning with a localized approach focused on helping others. This approach forms habits for healthy individuals and helps expand their exposure and understanding of others.  It also emphasizes values that I do think are important for a democratic society and happy life—focusing on the common good rather than tribalism, and getting outside of ourselves rather than becoming more self-indulgent. 

Heart (relationships)-

Humans are social creatures, and schools are inherently sites of intense social interaction.  What is important, however, is the type of social interaction that schools intentionally build.  As I mentioned above, this primarily includes much collaborative work in classrooms and across disciplines, but it can also include appropriately tailored spaces for emotional growth.  I do not think students should be forced to share any emotions with others that they are not ready to share, but I think it’s healthy for schools to have some safe spaces for connecting with others on a deeper level and depending on each other for support.  Many schools also incorporate various practices from restorative justice to help develop healing and empathic relationships. 

The Teacher’s Role

In all of this, teachers must be trained extensively and consistently to implement effective cross-curricular, collaborative, action-oriented, reflective lessons.  This is not something that I have seen incorporated well into many school systems, and it involves restructuring system-wide values and evaluation systems as well as creatively reimagining courses, partnerships, and curriculum guides.  In short, it’s a massive undertaking.  I’m well aware that the ideas I’m proposing would take large shifts in how schools are run in order to implement them effectively, but changes can begin small.  For starters, I encourage educators to think intentionally about how they are cultivating each of these four areas in students. If there are windows to make changes here and there, then do so.  Here’s the kicker—to do any of these changes well, whether small or large, teachers and administrators need margin to fully think, reflect, collaborate, and act themselves.  Can it happen?  I think so, and I’m willing to bet that some priorities can shift in order to create this space.  Let’s get going.

Subscribe now

As a new school year starts and many are eager to return to a sense of normalcy in education, I have heard “back to the basics” approaches being espoused by school and political leaders.  Undoubtedly, this tagline is in part a response to the chaos and confusion of pandemic-age schooling and the many lapses in achievement that occurred.  For some, it likely reflects their sense that schools in general are becoming hotbeds for leftist extreme ideas and the need to return to a place where students were taught traditional subjects and topics in a more traditional manner.  I don’t debate the fact that some schools really do need to re-emphasize the foundations of good education, but when leaders make statements about going back to the basics, I’m left wondering several questions—What basics? Whose basics? And what were schools doing the past two years that necessitate this stance?  The vagueness of the statement is what makes me nervous.  I predict, however, that if we are indeed going “back to the basics,” we are likely not going deep enough.

It is no secret that critical race theory became a hot-button topic in the last year or two, with many pointing out scattered examples of leftist extremism in the classroom and society and framing them all under the label “CRT.”  This was a purposeful strategy, as has been acknowledged by Christopher Rufo, the senior fellow at the Manhattan Institute who is credited with inventing the conflict over CRT.  The result was a slew of legislation and state education policies aiming to reduce discussions of various racial, sexual, and gender topics, as well as other limitations related to standards and training. 

On the opposing side, many claimed that the CRT being propagated was a caricature of the theory itself (often true) and that CRT was only taught in law school and some random other graduate programs.  Teachers were not usually taught it, it wasn’t explicitly taught in K-12 classrooms, and its influence wasn’t in teacher training.  I was exposed to and read numerous resources utilizing CRT when I was working on my Ph.D., and I can confidently say that both sides are trafficking in half-truths on this issue.  Nevertheless, aside from the topic becoming a play for power instead of truth, especially amongst political leaders, I believe that the conflict, where it exists because of truthful concerns, is in part the result of differing views on the purpose of education.  What I’ve learned is that most of us carry around ideas on the purpose of education that are usually hidden social theories that we have subconsciously imbibed.  Remixing education ultimately requires that we identify and discuss the values and theories that shape our view of education in order to more clearly move forward.

The Purpose of Education

I believe that most Americans have some vague notion of what the purpose of education is, mainly because they haven’t thought about it in depth.  In reality, much of what most of us believe in this area has been passed down to us through various social theories and their understanding of the role of social structures in society. 

Functionalism

The most dominant view with much of America stems from the ideas of functionalism, which posits that societies develop structures to carry out necessary functions and pass on values, customs, and rules.  One of these structures is the school, which serves numerous purposes and fills in the void if other social structures don’t fulfill their roles.  This is why we see schools constantly taking on responsibilities that used to be the job of the church, family, and other institutions.  According to functionalists, the purpose of schools can thus be divided into four main areas (copied from The Way Schools Work: A Sociological Analysis of Education).

Intellectual Purposes

o   Acquisition of cognitive skills (reading, math, etc.)

o   Acquisition of substantive knowledge

o   Acquisition of inquiry skills (evaluation, synthesis, etc.)

Political Purposes

o   To educate future citizens for appropriate participation in the given political order

o   To promote patriotism by teaching myths, history, and stories about the country, its leaders, and government

o   To promote the assimilation of immigrants

o   To ensure order, public civility, and conformity to laws

o   In America specifically, to instill values for a unified American identity

Economic Purposes

o   To prepare students for later work roles

o   To select and train the labor force (stratification)

Social Purposes

o   To promote a sense of social and moral responsibility

o   To serve as site for the solution or amelioration of social problems

o   To supplement the efforts of other institutions of socialize, such as the family and the church

As I review these purposes, I see much that is commendable and much that most people would agree to, but I also see some clear points of contention—namely, promoting patriotism often involves teaching a watered-down curriculum that caters to certain views, promoting assimilation involves immigrants losing much of their cultural identity, and ensuring order and conformity to laws does nothing to address unjust laws and practices.  It is precisely these areas where many people from non-dominant cultures and groups (i.e. non-White and immigrant people) feel conflicted and/or defensive.  There is no consensus on what is “American” and what values need to be passed down, but traditional schooling has acted like there is and attempted to shoehorn everyone in a particular mold modeled after European-American culture and values.  It is thus no wonder that many students buck at their schooling experiences, because the political purposes of school attempt to eliminate or alter part of their identity, rather than embracing it and celebrating it.  Functionalism as a theory understands school in more benign terms, where school is mostly neutral and conflict is an aberration.  When there is conflict, the goal is to eliminate it as quickly as possible.  Conflict and tension is not to be embraced and used as a catalyst for change, because change that is not slow and incremental hurts the overall functioning of society.

Conflict Theory

This is where conflict theory, of which Marxism is part, proposes another model for understanding school.  Conflict theorists believe that tension and conflict are dominant/normal features of society, not aberrations.  People groups are always in tension because of competing power claims related to inequality of property, resource distribution, and economic opportunity.  This conflict plays out in school because schools reflect society and are modeled after the dominant economic system.  So, whereas conflict theorists would not necessarily disagree with all of the purposes of school listed by functionalists, they wholeheartedly disagree that school is a neutral site where these purposes play out.  Instead, schools serve as sites of reproduction, where the existing and dominant hierarchy, ideologies, and inequalities of society are reproduced, which ultimately keeps power in the hands of the groups that already have it. 

Reproduction occurs in many ways, as schools privilege the formal language, behavior expectations, values, and cultural knowledge of the dominant group in society.  They also magnify class differences and reinforce the status quo through both formal curriculum and “hidden curriculum”—the subtle messages that are conveyed but not explicitly taught on class, ethnicity, and gender.  For example, lower class children are often socialized in such a way that teaches them to accept authority, be punctual, wait, and be compliant.  In contrast, middle class students are often socialized into roles of responsibility, authoritative modes of self-presentation, and independent work habits.  In this view, schools reflect the ideologies that are espoused by the state agencies that run them, and government policies often prevent alternative views from gaining an audience or establishing legitimacy. 

Critical Theory

As you can hopefully see, functionalists and conflict theories disagree tremendously on the role and effect of schools in society.  And while functionalists have often been critiqued for their naïve view of the neutrality of our schools, conflict theorists have often been heavily critiqued for their neglect of human agency, or the ability of individuals to overcome oppressive structures and be successful.  Into this gap comes the development of critical theory.  Critical theory draws from both functionalism and conflict theory, as well as other schools of thought.  It posits that inequality is determined by economic structure and that we must deconstruct the hidden assumptions that govern society, usually in favor of dominant groups.  It believes, however, that individuals’ outcomes are not pre-determined by social class or status, though the expectations and obligations of these social roles do constrain them.  Humans have the ability to use their agency to transform society, especially as they become aware, or conscious, of the forces that oppress them. 

In education, this plays out in the view that schools are sites where resistance takes place in response to the cultural and social marginalization that many students feel.  Issues of power and control are worked out in the classroom and in individual interactions, which is what leads to so much of the teacher/student conflict we see in schools.  In the end, critical theory proposes that, if teachers and students can become conscious of what leads to social reproduction in their schools, they can resist these processes and instead create a site of social transformation.  This leads to a heightened concern for pedagogy as the means through which consciousness is raised, and it leads to an emphasis on teachers becoming “transformative intellectuals.”    As deMarrais and LeCompte state:

Critical theorists’ belief that their task is to uncover the ways in which dominant ideology is translated into practice in schools and the ways in which human agency mutes the impact of that ideology.  Thus, critical educational theorists are deeply concerned with the art and practice of teaching.  They argue that teachers must become “transformative intellectuals” and “critical pedagogues” in order to resist the oppression of the dominant ideology and to produce a liberating culture within schools.  In other words, teachers must continue to be active, questioning learners.  They must have knowledge as well as critical ability, so they can question not only their own practice but school structure as well.  Students also must be taught to become active, critical, and engaged learners in an environment made stimulating (32). 

A major critique leveled against critical theory, precisely because of its heightened focus on uncovering and resisting oppression, is that it often creates problems or finds some where there are none, as well as neglects the complexity of social issues in favor of an uncritical and unbalanced stance in favor of oppressed groups.

Current Conflict

Can you now begin to see where this plays out in all of our recent school controversies?  Some groups, based on their experience and what they have been taught, view school as a largely benign and neutral site where all can succeed equally, whereas others view schools as places that attempt to reproduce the status quo and alter their own identity.  It should also be said—this social and cultural reproduction may be purposeful, but it need not be.  In fact, most educators, precisely because they come from the dominant social group, fail to recognize how their actions may inspire resistance from students.  The problem is subconscious, not intentional.  Nevertheless, we are left with very different views of school, along with an increase in activist teachers who may or may not understand their own limits and biases.  It all comes down to what we believe the purpose of education is and how it fulfills its role, and my contention is that communities must have frank conversations correctly identifying their conflicts and getting to the heart of this issue in order to effectively and sustainably move forward in remixing education. 

Communities and schools need not adopt one of the theories above in full, but should be able to wrestle with the complexities inherent in each, ultimately framing the purpose of education in whatever terms best account for the experiences of their many constituents and students.  I am not naïve enough, however, to believe that this can occur effectively without conflict and the sidelining of our defensiveness and quest for power no matter the cost.  Even though groups with competing views are unlikely to compromise in our current political climate, I still say that the clarifying conversations and process to determine the purpose of education is a worthy endeavor and that going “back to the basics” should really begin there.

Share

I started teaching 11 years ago, fresh out of college at 22 years of age. My students were juniors in high school, only about 6 years younger than I was. Still, to this day, one of my favorite things is seeing former students in the community and getting to hear about their lives now as adults. I still feel a sense of pride when I see them because they were MY students...students that exhibited strength, tenacity, and personality, and in turn enlivened my every day with joy, even when it was accompanied with frustration:) Some of my former students will thank me for being patient with them, when in reality I need to thank them for being patient with me--patient as I made mistakes, failed, and learned on the go about teaching and coaching.

I go on to talk about the importance of reciprocal grace between students and teachers, which I still believe is critical.  In the years since I left school administration, however, we’ve all been through a pandemic, compounded by racial unrest, frequently toxic community/school relations, and exponential mental health issues for students and their support systems.  We’ve also witnessed the gaps in education that were exacerbated by systems not equipped for the challenges they would face.  In the midst of all this, I found myself more and more cynical regarding the state of public education in America.  About this I should be clear—I refuse to overly criticize teachers and administrators, or at least the majority of them, because I know their challenges and how hard they worked during the pandemic.  And I was not alongside them in the day to day grind.  My frustration began long before 2019 and stems, in part, from intimately knowing the flaws of our education systems and seeing how they continue to get in their own way.  I believe grace should remain central in our approach as we navigate our way through the mess that remains, but right alongside that must be creativity, competence, and accountability. It’s far past time we start pushing our systems to make changes that were long needed.  We will continue to make mistakes and learn on the go, but the key is that we keep growing, advocating, imagining, and enacting.

This blog is my attempt at putting some of my reflections and thoughts on education reform to words, focusing on the personal, philosophical, practical, and political.  As you will see, I have many critiques of public education as we know it, but I’m also deeply committed to it.  I’m a product of public schools, as well as a former teacher and administrator in public schools.  I currently work for an educational nonprofit that supports and works with our local public schools.  And though I am not against private educational options for families, I still believe that a system of fully privatized education will never attain the results that some believe it will (for reasons too numerous to share right now).  My thoughts on remixing education come from experience and research, but they are not immune to critique themselves.  In the midst of so much busyness and exhaustion, I hope to stimulate reflection and responses from readers, creating a small community of thoughtful participants who dare to consider possibilities. 

This blog is not limited in its scope to educators, however.  As much as I will reflect on what I see as an often dehumanizing and uninspiring system, schools don’t exist in a vacuum.  Local communities have too frequently relegated their role in supporting schools and students, choosing instead to focus on individual autonomy and divide into competing small tribes.  This leads to fractured community, where the common good and care for one another is limited in scope and power.  My goal is also to challenge this narrative and normalized way of being, especially for the good of all students, particularly the underserved and marginalized.  As D.L. Mayfield writes:

Someone’s students have to attend the worst schools in your community.  In your mind whose kids should that be?... It’s a hard message to give in my city—which, like so many in our world, is segregated by race and class.  Asking people to do good, to give, to be charitable, becomes easy in these kinds of societies; asking them to be neighbors with those they most wish to help is not, since it points out an inconvenient truth that most of us try hard to forget all the time: some of us have worked hard to make sure we are only neighbors with certain kinds of people, and now we have to live with the results.1

Our fractured communities lead to many of the problems our schools face, and though I cannot offer expertise in how to reverse these macro-level social trends, I can write to encourage reflection and bring awareness to what I am learning myself. 

In all, my goals for this blog are modest, and I’ll mostly settle for initiating conversations and reframing the narrative on education reform among a small number of devoted citizens who make a difference.  In the end, small groups of deeply committed and passionate individuals are often the means to enact change in society, especially as their influence is multiplied.  To connect back to the 2018 post at the beginning of this newsletter—those students deserve our best efforts, even if change is slow and arduous. Though it’s cliché, they are still the focus of my efforts and the heart and soul of any educational change.  Want to join me?  Let’s get going.

Subscribe now