Public education today is at a crossroads. As much of a cliche at it sounds, it is true. Public education faces two very different paths and I believe if it continues on the one it is currently traveling, the results will be disastrous for all stakeholders.
The current road has been tried for close to one hundred years. It arose out of a fundamental question asked at the turn of the twentieth century. With more students going to school, how can the one-room schoolhouse evolve to accommodate these rapidly increasing numbers?
The answer, as it turns out, came from the factory. Pioneers such as Henry Ford had become incredibly efficient and profitable by standardizing the factory system. Education reformers essentially took that model and applied it to the public school. Students were compartmentalized by age into grades and then into classrooms and standardized tests were soon developed to measure student performance. Passive lectures that placed emphasis on memorization and regurgitation were prevalent as the emphasis was placed on educating as many students as possible relatively efficiently. Little thought was put into differentiation as the results were demonstrating the system was working for the industrial economy of the time.
However, that economy has since almost disappeared. Instead, a new knowledge economy has taken its place that puts emphasis not on memorization and simple recall of facts but the ability to take pieces of information and assemble them into something more advanced, more complicated. In other words, while the old economy might have you memorize that A + B = C, the new economy might ask where A and B come from and if C is the only answer. Critical thinking rules the new economy.
Unfortunately, the factory rules our schools. Students and teachers are continued to be told that their futures are determined by student performance on standardized tests that, while increasingly sophisticated, still force students to become test takers and not tomorrow's makers.
But the situation is far worse than that. Many students are struggling even to pass these tests and many advanced students find the preparation for these tests to be boring and hardly challenging. Teachers are placed in the difficult position of teaching to the middle and hoping some of these struggling students pass and that opportunities for the advanced students will emerge.
The problem of differentiation is coupled with the problem of time. Teachers cannot accelerate for the advanced students because that would jeopardize the success of the struggling students. Teachers cannot slow down because they risk not covering all the material on the test. Thus, teachers are forced to move at one pace that works for only a fraction of the learners in the classroom.
Thus, education stands at the fork. On the left, is more of the same: one pace, one method. On the right, is differentiation based on each student's individual needs and mastery learning that allows students to progress at their own pace.
But how do we move public education to the right? How do we as stakeholders develop public schools that both meet the individual needs of students and allow students to achieve mastery? Some have suggested that standardized tests have to go. I, ever the realist, do believe that is viable. Politicians will continue to push those tests until the backlash is strong enough to suggest otherwise.
The answer must come from within schools. As to what that answer looks like, I do not believe there is one single solution. For some, it might be flipping the classroom. For others, it might be new technology. Still others might adopt the charter school model. Whatever the solution, public education needs to wake up now. The future is calling.
Sunday, January 25, 2015
God and Education
As a social studies teacher, my students can ask me some fairly controversial questions. I have been asked about my political party preference, how I feel about abortion, and why racism is still a big deal. However there is one question I am asked every year without fail:
What is your religion?
My seventh graders are more likely to ask this question than my eighth graders as part of the seventh grade course is a study of world religions. There are two methods of dealing with this question (to my knowledge) and I have tried them both. The first method (and the one I used in my first year of teaching) is to not tell them. I inform them that my job is present to them with a variety of opinions and let them make their own choices. What I believe should not be a factor as it could influence their judgments. I have also tried telling them my religion and explaining to them that the choice is still theirs. I will not raise their grades for sharing my faith or lower their grades for having different beliefs.
Yet that question begs a larger one in education: What should religion's role in education be? I have encountered individuals across the entire spectrum of answers to that question. I have encountered a pastor who has lamented the removal of school-sanctioned prayer as tantamount to spitting in God's face. I have encountered those who believe religion should be kept out of school all together. Interestingly, not all of these people are atheists. Some do not want one "version" of a religion taught in school that counters their denomination's brand. And I have encountered far many more who are not sure of what the role of religion should be.
To answer that question, one might turn to the First Amendment that forbids Congress from making any law with respect to the establishment of religion or its free exercise. Public schools, as government enterprises, fall under that directive. But the vagueness of the First Amendment that was the Founding Fathers' genius (so that the Constitution could adapt to the circumstances at hand) also makes debate all the more likely. Some would argue that the Founding Fathers' idea of freedom of religion was permitting Americans to choose which brand of Christianity they wanted without penalty as opposed to a license to remove it from school all together. Still others point to some Founding Fathers who shared more pluralistic views of society as evidence that this view was not universally shared among the Founders. Those from this camp will point to several Supreme Court cases as further support for their point of view.
As a Christian and a social studies teacher who champions the ideals of the U.S. Constitution, this leaves me seemingly between a rock and a hard place. On the one hand, I want students to experience and cherish the freedoms of the Constitution when it comes to their choices but I also want my students to make the right choices. And I personally believe that the best choice they will ever make is saying "yes" to Jesus. But as a public school teacher and a de facto member of the government this Constitution limits, I cannot come out and encourage them to follow Jesus. How then can I preserve my ideals and my faith? How can I let them choose and not violate my heart that knows there are eternal consequences to their choice in this regard?
The answer, I have found, is deceptively simple: Because that's what Jesus did and does. Jesus lets people choose. People can choose to accept Him or they can spurn Him. Love, which I believe is at the center of God's pursuit of us, is after all about choice. A person can't make another person love him or her. God can't either because it's not in His nature; it's not in the nature of love. So, to follow Jesus, is to let my students choose. Because I love Jesus. And because I love my students.
Some may say that this does not solve the conflict. Jesus, as many readers of the New Testament would point out, could and did directly speak to people about their need for forgiveness. (Although I will point that the danger for Him was the possibility of His arrest and death, a price He ultimately paid.) If I do the same, I risk being fired and forfeit all contact with students. So, am I not still stuck?
Let me answer that question with one more question. When you think of Jesus, what do you picture? Most would probably think of His death on the cross or Him rising from the tomb on the first Easter. Still, others might think of Him walking on water or feeding the five thousand.
All of these pictures have one thing in common: they describe actions. Jesus, while on earth, was a man of action. He loved people where they were and in a way they would understand. Think about it. Jesus could have easily told the world's people He loves them and left it at that. But words, as powerful as they are, are just that: words. Anyone can utter them at any time and the cost is nothing. But this is not so with actions. And Jesus chose the most poignant of all as He was nailed to the cross for you and me, leaving no doubt about where He stood in His opinion of us.
I am not permitted to tell my students who Jesus is. But I can show them. I can show them in the way I forgive them for breaking a rule. I can show them by attending their basketball games. I can show them when I remember their birthday. I can show them in attending their brother's funeral. I can show them in how I care. I can show them in how I love. And then, like Jesus does with all of us, I can let them choose.
What is your religion?
My seventh graders are more likely to ask this question than my eighth graders as part of the seventh grade course is a study of world religions. There are two methods of dealing with this question (to my knowledge) and I have tried them both. The first method (and the one I used in my first year of teaching) is to not tell them. I inform them that my job is present to them with a variety of opinions and let them make their own choices. What I believe should not be a factor as it could influence their judgments. I have also tried telling them my religion and explaining to them that the choice is still theirs. I will not raise their grades for sharing my faith or lower their grades for having different beliefs.
Yet that question begs a larger one in education: What should religion's role in education be? I have encountered individuals across the entire spectrum of answers to that question. I have encountered a pastor who has lamented the removal of school-sanctioned prayer as tantamount to spitting in God's face. I have encountered those who believe religion should be kept out of school all together. Interestingly, not all of these people are atheists. Some do not want one "version" of a religion taught in school that counters their denomination's brand. And I have encountered far many more who are not sure of what the role of religion should be.
To answer that question, one might turn to the First Amendment that forbids Congress from making any law with respect to the establishment of religion or its free exercise. Public schools, as government enterprises, fall under that directive. But the vagueness of the First Amendment that was the Founding Fathers' genius (so that the Constitution could adapt to the circumstances at hand) also makes debate all the more likely. Some would argue that the Founding Fathers' idea of freedom of religion was permitting Americans to choose which brand of Christianity they wanted without penalty as opposed to a license to remove it from school all together. Still others point to some Founding Fathers who shared more pluralistic views of society as evidence that this view was not universally shared among the Founders. Those from this camp will point to several Supreme Court cases as further support for their point of view.
As a Christian and a social studies teacher who champions the ideals of the U.S. Constitution, this leaves me seemingly between a rock and a hard place. On the one hand, I want students to experience and cherish the freedoms of the Constitution when it comes to their choices but I also want my students to make the right choices. And I personally believe that the best choice they will ever make is saying "yes" to Jesus. But as a public school teacher and a de facto member of the government this Constitution limits, I cannot come out and encourage them to follow Jesus. How then can I preserve my ideals and my faith? How can I let them choose and not violate my heart that knows there are eternal consequences to their choice in this regard?
The answer, I have found, is deceptively simple: Because that's what Jesus did and does. Jesus lets people choose. People can choose to accept Him or they can spurn Him. Love, which I believe is at the center of God's pursuit of us, is after all about choice. A person can't make another person love him or her. God can't either because it's not in His nature; it's not in the nature of love. So, to follow Jesus, is to let my students choose. Because I love Jesus. And because I love my students.
Some may say that this does not solve the conflict. Jesus, as many readers of the New Testament would point out, could and did directly speak to people about their need for forgiveness. (Although I will point that the danger for Him was the possibility of His arrest and death, a price He ultimately paid.) If I do the same, I risk being fired and forfeit all contact with students. So, am I not still stuck?
Let me answer that question with one more question. When you think of Jesus, what do you picture? Most would probably think of His death on the cross or Him rising from the tomb on the first Easter. Still, others might think of Him walking on water or feeding the five thousand.
All of these pictures have one thing in common: they describe actions. Jesus, while on earth, was a man of action. He loved people where they were and in a way they would understand. Think about it. Jesus could have easily told the world's people He loves them and left it at that. But words, as powerful as they are, are just that: words. Anyone can utter them at any time and the cost is nothing. But this is not so with actions. And Jesus chose the most poignant of all as He was nailed to the cross for you and me, leaving no doubt about where He stood in His opinion of us.
I am not permitted to tell my students who Jesus is. But I can show them. I can show them in the way I forgive them for breaking a rule. I can show them by attending their basketball games. I can show them when I remember their birthday. I can show them in attending their brother's funeral. I can show them in how I care. I can show them in how I love. And then, like Jesus does with all of us, I can let them choose.
What I Wish I Knew: Classroom Management Edition
If you did not read my last post, "What I Wish I Knew", I encourage you to stop for a moment and read that post. It will explain the rationale for sharing some insights from my first year of teaching.
With that said, I have decided to follow that post up with a second "What I Wish I Knew" that focuses solely on classroom management. It has become something of a cliche to say that first-year teachers struggle with classroom management. While part of the problem could be contributed to the overemphasis on theory at the collegiate level, a large part of the problem is that a teacher will not truly understand what works until stepping foot into his or her own classroom.
To aid in this transition, I present four things about classroom management that I wish I had known as a first-year teacher (I have omitted the notion of consistency as it is covered in the previous post):
1. Keep it simple.
Have you ever watched someone struggle with a new piece of technology? They aren't sure how to turn on the device or make it operate the way they need it to because the instructions are confusing. Frustration and anger began to surface as the person is tempted to give up. The same could be said of many first-year classrooms. Most first-year teachers are taught develop rules and procedures that govern every aspect of the classroom. This is valid. However, teachers should make sure that students can readily understand what is expected of them and how to meet those expectations consistently. As an example, try to limit your "classroom rules" to five. You don't want too few rules as you will expose students to generalities that cannot be followed. But you do not want so many rules that students cannot remember them either. Five rules, for whatever reason, strikes a good balance. While you will often have many more procedures, make sure to model those procedures early and often with students as well as give them opportunities to ask questions.
2. Keep parents involved.
I still struggle with this idea. I have always been afraid to talk to parents. I didn't want parents to yell at me and say it was my fault the student was misbehaving or that I was singling out their kid. However, I recognize now that such a parent is few and far between. Most parents want to be engaged about their child's behavior and are committed to helping you as the teacher get the best out of the student. But you have to involve them early. Do not wait until the student has misbehaved for weeks into the year to decide it is time to call home. By then, a student may have developed a habit of misbehavior that will be hard to break. However, if you make that contact quickly and a student understands that you will involve their parents if they misbehave, they are many times more likely to do what you ask.
3. Keep it subtle.
When a student misbehaves in the middle of class, it is tempting to stop and call out the student. The problem with this approach is when the student pushes back. Suddenly, there is a struggle for control of the classroom. If you continue to push right back with no success, that student and those around him or her begin to sense you are in trouble. They will sense the negative energy in the room and feast on your misery. Thus, discretion is incredibly important. Find a way to discuss the issue with the student individually and away from others. Approach the student at his or her desk. Have the student step into the hallway for a moment in a normal tone and say you will talk to him or her in a moment. Denying the student his or her "backup" will increase your chances of a successful intervention.
4. Know your students.
There is no silver bullet to classroom management despite how easy master teachers make it look. Yet, what all these teachers have learned is that no two students are the same and therefore an intervention that works well for one student might not work well for another. One master teacher told me that you have to find what "gets" the student or, in other words, find what bothers them. What will change the behavior? Is it a lunch detention? A parent phone call? A positive comment now and again? Exhaust all your options before involving the office when possible. Administrators want to know you have tried to handle the student yourself and have been unsuccessful.
With that said, I have decided to follow that post up with a second "What I Wish I Knew" that focuses solely on classroom management. It has become something of a cliche to say that first-year teachers struggle with classroom management. While part of the problem could be contributed to the overemphasis on theory at the collegiate level, a large part of the problem is that a teacher will not truly understand what works until stepping foot into his or her own classroom.
To aid in this transition, I present four things about classroom management that I wish I had known as a first-year teacher (I have omitted the notion of consistency as it is covered in the previous post):
1. Keep it simple.
Have you ever watched someone struggle with a new piece of technology? They aren't sure how to turn on the device or make it operate the way they need it to because the instructions are confusing. Frustration and anger began to surface as the person is tempted to give up. The same could be said of many first-year classrooms. Most first-year teachers are taught develop rules and procedures that govern every aspect of the classroom. This is valid. However, teachers should make sure that students can readily understand what is expected of them and how to meet those expectations consistently. As an example, try to limit your "classroom rules" to five. You don't want too few rules as you will expose students to generalities that cannot be followed. But you do not want so many rules that students cannot remember them either. Five rules, for whatever reason, strikes a good balance. While you will often have many more procedures, make sure to model those procedures early and often with students as well as give them opportunities to ask questions.
2. Keep parents involved.
I still struggle with this idea. I have always been afraid to talk to parents. I didn't want parents to yell at me and say it was my fault the student was misbehaving or that I was singling out their kid. However, I recognize now that such a parent is few and far between. Most parents want to be engaged about their child's behavior and are committed to helping you as the teacher get the best out of the student. But you have to involve them early. Do not wait until the student has misbehaved for weeks into the year to decide it is time to call home. By then, a student may have developed a habit of misbehavior that will be hard to break. However, if you make that contact quickly and a student understands that you will involve their parents if they misbehave, they are many times more likely to do what you ask.
3. Keep it subtle.
When a student misbehaves in the middle of class, it is tempting to stop and call out the student. The problem with this approach is when the student pushes back. Suddenly, there is a struggle for control of the classroom. If you continue to push right back with no success, that student and those around him or her begin to sense you are in trouble. They will sense the negative energy in the room and feast on your misery. Thus, discretion is incredibly important. Find a way to discuss the issue with the student individually and away from others. Approach the student at his or her desk. Have the student step into the hallway for a moment in a normal tone and say you will talk to him or her in a moment. Denying the student his or her "backup" will increase your chances of a successful intervention.
4. Know your students.
There is no silver bullet to classroom management despite how easy master teachers make it look. Yet, what all these teachers have learned is that no two students are the same and therefore an intervention that works well for one student might not work well for another. One master teacher told me that you have to find what "gets" the student or, in other words, find what bothers them. What will change the behavior? Is it a lunch detention? A parent phone call? A positive comment now and again? Exhaust all your options before involving the office when possible. Administrators want to know you have tried to handle the student yourself and have been unsuccessful.
What I Wish I Knew
I graduated from Franklin College, a small liberal arts school in southern Indiana, in 2013. I majored in secondary education and economics while minoring in Spanish. I have always touted my experience in the education department to be of very high quality and I still hold that opinion today.
Yet, after spending a year in the classroom, there are things about teaching that I wish someone would have told me. While I felt Franklin prepared me well for my career, there are many things that I learned the hard way. This harks to the dynamic between theory and practice that is surely found at all colleges and universities. Colleges do well at teaching theory. They struggle with practice for a variety of reasons from educational standards to a lack of opportunities for professional experiences to the differentiation within the career itself. Teacher preparation I believe suffers from the latter. Every graduating teacher will enter into a position different from each of his or her peers. The classroom will be different. The expectation will be different. In most cases, the school and district will be different. Thus, it is hard to give practical advice to students whose futures will be so varied.
However, from my own experience as a first-year teacher, I have found a few ideas that I believe all first-year teachers should know but many are probably not taught. Below are four of them:
1. There should be a place for everything and everything should be in its place.
When I first started teaching, I did everything inefficiently. I couldn't find papers. I did not know what to do with late work or absent work. I was not sure how to manage textbook numbers or tardies. I quickly discovered that I was spending more time on finding things than doing whatever I needed to do with those things. I soon developed a procedure for every task in my classroom and a place for every item in my classroom. The result was that I was spending more time on helping my students learn and less on managing their stuff and my stuff.
2. Do what you say. Do what you say. Do what you say.
Students are creatures of habit. They want to know what to expect when they my classroom and they want those expectations to remain relatively static. Yet, as I was learning what worked and what didn't, I found myself changing my classroom rules, consequences, and procedures constantly. Students began to become confused as to where to turn in late work or what counted as being late to class. Worst of all, I did not enforce my consequences consistently. If a student misbehaved in class and I told them I would call home, I rarely followed through due to time constraints or a fear of what the parent might say. This implicitly taught my students they didn't need to follow my rules. Consistency is the lifeblood of good classroom management.
3. If you want them to value it, grade it.
Education is permeated by the grading culture. Students are taught from an early age that school is about getting whatever grade they need to acquire to either (a) get their parents off their backs, (b) maintain athletic eligibility, (c) reinforce their self-worth or (d) get into the college of their choice. (There are other probably other reasons). As teachers, we of course despise this culture. We want students to come to school because they want to learn and to develop their budding curiosity. Yet, if you do give students an assignment and do not give them a grade for it, they resist and the the quality of their work plummets. Why? The answer is because students have been taught by the grading culture that the only work worth doing is the work that gives them a grade. Otherwise, what's the point? Thus, teachers are forced to appease the grading culture because they themselves are graded through a host of teacher evaluation methods and need students to perform. It is a sad and unfortunate part of education today.
4. Great teachers are great students.
Peyton Manning, the current quarterback of the Denver Broncos football team, is considered one of the greatest to ever play the position. Part of what makes him so great is that he is a "student of the game." He spends countless hours in film study and practice to hone his craft. Teachers should never stop honing their craft either. There are numerous ways to go about professional development and no way is necessarily better than another. Conferences, social networks, and content organizations all can offer great ideas. Face-to-face interactions with colleagues (the "old-school" method) can do wonders. Heck, even a Google search can teach you something new. However you go about it, don't stop growing. If we want our students to become lifelong learners, we must have the same aspiration.
Yet, after spending a year in the classroom, there are things about teaching that I wish someone would have told me. While I felt Franklin prepared me well for my career, there are many things that I learned the hard way. This harks to the dynamic between theory and practice that is surely found at all colleges and universities. Colleges do well at teaching theory. They struggle with practice for a variety of reasons from educational standards to a lack of opportunities for professional experiences to the differentiation within the career itself. Teacher preparation I believe suffers from the latter. Every graduating teacher will enter into a position different from each of his or her peers. The classroom will be different. The expectation will be different. In most cases, the school and district will be different. Thus, it is hard to give practical advice to students whose futures will be so varied.
However, from my own experience as a first-year teacher, I have found a few ideas that I believe all first-year teachers should know but many are probably not taught. Below are four of them:
1. There should be a place for everything and everything should be in its place.
When I first started teaching, I did everything inefficiently. I couldn't find papers. I did not know what to do with late work or absent work. I was not sure how to manage textbook numbers or tardies. I quickly discovered that I was spending more time on finding things than doing whatever I needed to do with those things. I soon developed a procedure for every task in my classroom and a place for every item in my classroom. The result was that I was spending more time on helping my students learn and less on managing their stuff and my stuff.
2. Do what you say. Do what you say. Do what you say.
Students are creatures of habit. They want to know what to expect when they my classroom and they want those expectations to remain relatively static. Yet, as I was learning what worked and what didn't, I found myself changing my classroom rules, consequences, and procedures constantly. Students began to become confused as to where to turn in late work or what counted as being late to class. Worst of all, I did not enforce my consequences consistently. If a student misbehaved in class and I told them I would call home, I rarely followed through due to time constraints or a fear of what the parent might say. This implicitly taught my students they didn't need to follow my rules. Consistency is the lifeblood of good classroom management.
3. If you want them to value it, grade it.
Education is permeated by the grading culture. Students are taught from an early age that school is about getting whatever grade they need to acquire to either (a) get their parents off their backs, (b) maintain athletic eligibility, (c) reinforce their self-worth or (d) get into the college of their choice. (There are other probably other reasons). As teachers, we of course despise this culture. We want students to come to school because they want to learn and to develop their budding curiosity. Yet, if you do give students an assignment and do not give them a grade for it, they resist and the the quality of their work plummets. Why? The answer is because students have been taught by the grading culture that the only work worth doing is the work that gives them a grade. Otherwise, what's the point? Thus, teachers are forced to appease the grading culture because they themselves are graded through a host of teacher evaluation methods and need students to perform. It is a sad and unfortunate part of education today.
4. Great teachers are great students.
Peyton Manning, the current quarterback of the Denver Broncos football team, is considered one of the greatest to ever play the position. Part of what makes him so great is that he is a "student of the game." He spends countless hours in film study and practice to hone his craft. Teachers should never stop honing their craft either. There are numerous ways to go about professional development and no way is necessarily better than another. Conferences, social networks, and content organizations all can offer great ideas. Face-to-face interactions with colleagues (the "old-school" method) can do wonders. Heck, even a Google search can teach you something new. However you go about it, don't stop growing. If we want our students to become lifelong learners, we must have the same aspiration.
The Apple Way
I confess myself to be an Apple geek. I own a Macbook Air that I am currently using to type this post, a fourth generation iPad, and an iPhone 5. I love the countless number of applications that I can run, the enhanced productivity I have found using these products, and the products' durability.
Yet, more than anything else, I love the seamless integration of hardware and software that has been the mantra of Apple ever since Steve Jobs co-founded the company. This idea that people who love software should build their own hardware has allowed Apple to create products that "just work" while avoiding the inherent bugs found in their competitors' products.
What allows this seamless integration? What allows these products to "just work" to the point that Apple fans are willing to line up for hours to be one of the first to have the next great product? (Sadly, I have yet to join this ragtag group.)
One could argue that Apple is very intentional (see my first blog post for an exploration of this word). Apple is very purposeful with every design decision it makes and is able to a fantastic explanation for any choice it makes with few exceptions.
Yet, there is a related concept that makes Apple so successful at its integration and it is an idea educators should take to heart. The idea is called simplicity. As a working definition, simplicity is the art of distilling something to its essence so that all that is left is only what is needed to make that something what it needs to be. Simplicity is the sworn enemy of complexity and is opposed to frills, processes, and hierarchies. By contrast, simplicity is the champion of intuitiveness and ease of use.
The hallmark of simplicity can be found when someone can easily take something and know exactly what it is and what to do with it with little prompting. As an example, take the iPhone. When one sees the orderly row of apps, one instinctively knows to touch them. There is no need for a pop-up to tell you. It just makes sense to touch them.
This idea can, and should, extend to education. When you give directions to your students, do you remove unnecessary steps? When you type an exam, do you remove padded questions that exist only so that the exam takes a certain amount of time? When you set up your classroom, do you strike a balance between too much decoration and barren walls?
In short, to engage in simplicity in the classroom, one should merely ask: Is the purpose (the intentionality) of what I am doing defeated if I remove this aspect from its design? If the answer is no, great job! You have made the item or task more simple. If the answer is no, you have reached the edge of simplicity, the edge of the integration between educational design (the software) and the task at hand (the hardware) that Apple has been using to change lives the way teachers so aspire.
Yet, more than anything else, I love the seamless integration of hardware and software that has been the mantra of Apple ever since Steve Jobs co-founded the company. This idea that people who love software should build their own hardware has allowed Apple to create products that "just work" while avoiding the inherent bugs found in their competitors' products.
What allows this seamless integration? What allows these products to "just work" to the point that Apple fans are willing to line up for hours to be one of the first to have the next great product? (Sadly, I have yet to join this ragtag group.)
One could argue that Apple is very intentional (see my first blog post for an exploration of this word). Apple is very purposeful with every design decision it makes and is able to a fantastic explanation for any choice it makes with few exceptions.
Yet, there is a related concept that makes Apple so successful at its integration and it is an idea educators should take to heart. The idea is called simplicity. As a working definition, simplicity is the art of distilling something to its essence so that all that is left is only what is needed to make that something what it needs to be. Simplicity is the sworn enemy of complexity and is opposed to frills, processes, and hierarchies. By contrast, simplicity is the champion of intuitiveness and ease of use.
The hallmark of simplicity can be found when someone can easily take something and know exactly what it is and what to do with it with little prompting. As an example, take the iPhone. When one sees the orderly row of apps, one instinctively knows to touch them. There is no need for a pop-up to tell you. It just makes sense to touch them.
This idea can, and should, extend to education. When you give directions to your students, do you remove unnecessary steps? When you type an exam, do you remove padded questions that exist only so that the exam takes a certain amount of time? When you set up your classroom, do you strike a balance between too much decoration and barren walls?
In short, to engage in simplicity in the classroom, one should merely ask: Is the purpose (the intentionality) of what I am doing defeated if I remove this aspect from its design? If the answer is no, great job! You have made the item or task more simple. If the answer is no, you have reached the edge of simplicity, the edge of the integration between educational design (the software) and the task at hand (the hardware) that Apple has been using to change lives the way teachers so aspire.
The Importance of Intentionality
In my teacher preparation, by far the best (and most important) experience I had was my student teaching. Of course, any teacher reading this would not be surprised. Student teaching is that moment when a teacher-in-training comes the closest to having his or her own classroom with the daily lesson plans, grading, seating chart management, and almost everything in between. Most importantly, the teacher-in-training still has a (hopefully) master teacher to guide him or her through this new litany of responsibilities and offer new insights in the process.
Of all those nuggets of wisdom my master teacher taught me, one stands out among all the rest. I was preparing for the next day's lesson and my master teacher had offered to work through the lesson with me to ensure it was as great as possible. As we discussed the lesson, my teacher peppered me with the same question over and over again:
Why?
Why are you using that resource? Why do you think this historical voice is most important to emphasize? Why have you selected this activity? Why is this your warm-up? Why did you use this assessment technique over another? Why?
At first, I thought my teacher was criticizing me. I thought he believed my lesson plan was terrible and wanted to expose it as such. However, as I drove home that day, I began to understand "why" he asked me that question. He wanted me to be intentional in my teaching. He wanted me to understand that every decision I made from the moment the students entered the classroom to the moment they left was formulated by design.
Intention. Design. Outcome. These words are irrevocably related in education. Yet, I have found that teachers so often forget their importance and relationship. Intention influences design and design influences outcome. If my intention is to "get through the day", that thinking will show up in my design (unit plans, lesson plans, etc.) and the outcome will most likely be poor learning.
Most importantly, students are aware of a teacher's intention. It is like an aroma that permeates the classroom. Students can sense the difference between lessons prepared in haste and lessons prepared in intention. This gap can explain many problems in the classroom from management issues to poor understanding of the material.
Intention, of course, takes time. It requires repeatedly asking that question my master teacher asked me years ago. Why? It may require one thousand no's for every yes. Yet the results are worth the time and energy and worth this teacher's admiration of a man who taught me that lesson so long ago.
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