Nicholson Baker is my favorite living writer, and I’ve been a working teacher for fifteen years, so I was delighted when I found out this book existed. It did not disappoint.
I’ve taught in public and private schools, written curriculum for schools and online programs, and homeschooled and tutored private students, and I can attest to the absurd amount of time wasted in a typical classroom day. If we surgically removed relentless and ineffective behavioral interventions, illogical busy work, unnecessary interruptions and transitions, and endless worksheets, Baker is absolutely right that a student could learn all he or she needed to know in two hours a day, tops.
The question is, what do students need to know? I teach at the elementary level, so fortunately I’ve been spared the crushing experience of forcing teenagers who have no aptitude or interest in an advanced subject to do forty-seven sample problems on an obscure math or science topic. However, I do need to work with the Common Core standards for elementary school, and discern the best ways to teach them.
Here’s the problem. There is nothing objectively wrong with Common Core. It lays out clear developmental goals and defines the skills and concepts that will serve as a foundation for students’ thinking. The problem is in the interpretation and implementation. Schools are so pressured by standardized assessments that they end up drilling holes in students’ brains and trying to force this information in so that nobody loses their jobs or funding. There’s no joy in it—no joy in the children themselves and no joy in the art of teaching and learning. And that’s so heartbreaking.
My favorite thing about this book was Baker’s fondness and affection for the students, even (and sometimes especially) those who were a pain in the ass. I feel like this is what’s fundamentally missing in those classrooms that fail – and I mean fail both morally and academically. When a student walks into my classroom, it’s my job to love them first and foremost. To listen and to get to know them, to understand who they are, how they personally learn, what they care about, what their strengths are, and where they need support. Personally, I do begin this process by establishing myself as the authority in the classroom, because I believe children need to know that they are safe, that someone is in charge and can be trusted to manage any problems that arise. All discipline, though, is explained clearly and with compassion. What makes it work is its consistency and fairness, and the fact that I respect my students—truly. I believe in them, I like them, and my high expectations of them, I believe, make them feel good about themselves in the end.
The learning is also meaningful, relevant, and contextualized to the best of my ability, and you’d be surprised by how unusual this is. If I’m teaching something, my students understand why they need to know it and how it applies to the real world. If I’m teaching something that’s boring because I have to, since it’s necessary, I acknowledge that, and I limit the time we spend on it and try to make it fun. Most of the work is project-based. All of it is organized around the joy of being someone who thinks deeply, who develops skills out of pride and intellectual interest, who communicates clearly and also knows how to listen. We’re building a community here—one that is capable of creatively solving the problems of the complex world we’re handing over to our children, who knows how to communicate, collaborate, negotiate, and listen to and consider multiple conflicting points of view.
I don’t always succeed at this, of course, but this is how I define success. Not by managing to arbitrarily fill six and half hours a day or checking off boxes on a taxonomy poster. What Baker is showing here—with a wonderful mix of humor, sadness, and bafflement—is how profoundly we are missing the boat on what education could be. Useful. Relevant. Intellectually engaging. Loving. Compassionate. Joyful. This isn’t impossible to do. It’s goddamn hard, but it’s not impossible. And it’s what we really should be aiming for.
* Side note: From now on, whenever I am sad, I’m going to play “You Dropped A Bomb On Me” and eat coffee chocolate.