Archives for category: Creativity

Ken Robinson is famed for his inspirational books, lectures, and articles about the importance of creativity.

In this article, he describes how standardization has broken education, and what we must do to change it.

It is tempting to reprint the article in its entirety because it is so beautifully written, but I will give you a start so you are tempted to read it yourself.

The problem with fixing it in the U.S. is that the only way to end standardization is to change the federal law that mandates that all children must learn the same thing in the same way and be prepared to answer multiple-choice questions that satisfy Pearson or some other giant testing corporation.

But the way to make that happen is to start now. Opt out. Write letters to the editor. Speak up at Parent meetings and in the teachers’ lounge. Get your union–if you are in one–to take a stand. Be relentless. Promote creativity, diversity of thought, and a stubborn resistance to standardization. Treasure collaboration, oppose competition. Value each person for his or her unique gifts. That’s hard, but that’s where we need to go in our thinking and our actions.

Robinson begins:

We are all born with fathomless capacities, but what we make of them has everything to do with education. One role of education is to help people develop their natural talents and abilities; the other is to help them make their way in the world around them. Too often, education falls short on both counts. As we face an increasingly febrile future, it’s vital to do better. For that to happen, education has to be urgently transformed. We have the resources and the expertise, but now we need the vision and commitment.

In my book, You, Your Child and School, I make a distinction between learning, education and school. Learning is acquiring new skills and understanding; education is an organised system of learning; a school is a community of learners. All children love to learn, but many have a hard time with education and some have big problems with school.

Usually, the problem is not the learners – it’s the inherent bias of education and the enforced culture of schools. For generations, formal education has been systematically biased towards narrow forms of academic ability. The result is that it largely disregards the marvellous diversity of human talents and interests.

For the past generation especially, politicians have been smothering schools in a depressing culture of standardisation. As a result, they have been marginalising the very capabilities our children need to create a more equitable and sustainable world – by which I mean creativity, compassion citizenship and collaboration.

As far as we know, human beings are the most creative creatures ever to walk the Earth. We are endowed with deep powers of imagination and the physical capacities to realise our imaginings in complex languages, theories and beliefs, as well as in the tangible forms of technology, architecture, agriculture, the arts and the sciences and so on.

The trouble is that, in the past 300 years, we have created civilisations that have dislocated our relationships with the natural environment and that now imperil our survival as a species. We face existential challenges. We have immense capabilities to innovate, but the clock is ticking and education is the only key to unlocking these capacities – not the torpid system of testing we have now, but forms of education that celebrate and cultivate these unique powers deliberately.

 

 

 

 

Kathryn Berger knows something that legislators don’t know. Students are hungry for real literature and art but we feed them standardized tests.

They crave authenticity, but our policymakers impose standardization, which is inauthentic.

See this video she made.

 

The family of a 2-year-old with limited mobility needed a wheelchair but could not afford the cost of a wheelchair, $20,000. The Farmington, Minnesota, public high school “Rogue Robotics Team” did it. 

Great and talented kids. No one mentioned theirvtest scores.

 

Kevin Bosworth, a teacher at Olathe East High School in Olathe, Kansas, wrote to tell me about a class discussion of grades and tests. A student shared her poem with the class, and Kevin shared it with me. The reformers and disrupters now say they are intrigued with social and emotional learning. Let them read this and see what they have learned.

 

Hello my name is worthless

Name number and date

State your class and hour

Let the rubric pick your fate

 

Your value as a human

Can be measured by percent

All that matters is the value

That the numbers represent

 

We promise that you matter

You’re more than just a grade

But you better score one hundred

Or else you won’t get paid

 

They require our attendance

We’re brain dead taking notes

So we can barf back up the knowledge

That they shove down our throats

 

Each human life is precious

And every childhood has worth

But if you fill in the wrong bubbles

Then you don’t belong on earth

 

They question our depression

They wonder why we’re stressed

When our futures are decided

Doing better on a test

 

They tell me that I’m gifted

That there’s no need to despair

But if you only read the numbers

I’m a living waste of air

 

I might think I have talents

But there’s no worth in art

Because it can’t be measured

By a number on a chart

 

The people say I’m flying

The numbers say I’ll crash

My letter grades ‘ll prove it

I’m worthless human trash

They use standardized procedures

To find the worth of kids

But I don’t fit in boxes

Without spilling out the lids

 

Some kids don’t fit the system

But differences can’t stay

They put us in the garbage

And throw it all away

 

This is a beautiful statement. Computer-graded essays represent the ultimate dumbing down of education. Professor Les Perelman of MIT has has written many studies about the stupidity of machines. They are indifferent to factual accuracy. They don’t understand tone or irony or wit. They can be fooled by pretentious gibberish.

Keep fighting!

Open Letter to Ohio Department of Education from English teachers. Concerning: Computer-graded exams.

Open Letter to Ohio Department of Education from English teachers. Concerning: Computer-graded exams.
by inthevalleyofthedoanSeptember 8, 2018
OPEN LETTER

TO: Paolo DeMaria

Superintendent of Public Instruction

Ohio Department of Education

superintendent@education.ohio.gov

CC: Office of Curriculum and Assessment:

Brian.Roget@education.ohio.gov

Sarah.Wilson@education.ohio.gov

Shantelle.Hill@education.ohio.gov

Daniel.Badea@education.ohio.gov

Sarah.McClusky@education.ohio.gov

FROM: English teachers of Shaker Heights High School

September 7, 2018

Dear Superintendent DeMaria and the Office of Curriculum and Assessment,

We are English teachers at Shaker Heights High School, and we would like to voice our profound dismay over the direction that the Ohio Department of Education has taken with the End of Course exams.

In the nation’s unthinking rush to test, test, test, we have reached a new low: We are now expected to teach our students how to write for a machine to read.

We have been given a document called, “Machine-Scored Grading: Initial Suggestions for Preparing Students,” produced by the Westerville City Schools “in consultation with the ODE.” According to these guidelines, “When composing text to be read by a computer, the writer cannot assume that the machine will ‘know’ and be able to interpret communicative intent.”

Imagine for a moment how humiliating it is for students to hear that what they write will be read by a machine, not by a human. Can you think of anything as pointless? Would anybody be inspired to do their best work?

The message that we send students is this: Your inner self, the ground from which all writing springs, has no value, no relevance. We do not care about the content of your mind, only that you have the mental machinery to decipher and generate informational text.

Writing for a computer is antithetical to everything that led us to become educators. Our overseers in Columbus, however, have a very different attitude. In support of machine scoring, this is from an official statement from an Associate Director of the Office of Curriculum and Assessment:

“This is the only way to get to adaptive testing and to return results faster, with the goal to be eventual on demand results, which has been an extremely vocal issue by the field to legislators, ODE Leadership, etc.”

First of all, this is an appalling sentence. But once we get past the errors in syntax, grammar and capitalization, and the sloppy, confusing phrasing, we are still left with an absurdity. We teachers are supposed to set students before a computer and then wait breathlessly for the machine to tell us how well or poorly the student writes? That is the ultimate goal? And the person in charge doesn’t even know how to write? How much are Ohio taxpayers spending on this?

There are always the same three justifications for computer grading:

It’s fast.
It’s cheap.
It’s objective.
But we can point to a system that is faster, cheaper, and maybe even more objective. There just happens to be a group of trained professionals handy: people who are dedicated to the wellbeing and growth of Ohio’s schoolchildren, people who love writing and literature, people who are trained to the standards of the Ohio Department of Education, people who continually strive to improve their ability to provide meaningful evaluation of student writing:

Teachers.

We can do the job fast because we’re with the students every day. We can do it cheap, in fact at no extra cost to Ohio taxpayers, because it’s what we’re paid to do anyway.

You might assume that machines have us beat when it comes to objectivity. But computers are only as objective as the humans who program them. And we have good reason to distrust multinational corporations when they invoke proprietary trade secrets to hide the systems that determine the fates of millions of public school children.

But objectivity may be the wrong criterion. As English teachers, we love writing because it is one of the most subjective things taught in school. We love the teaching of writing because we love to see students develop their unique voices, their sense of themselves as the subjects of their own lives.

If we begin our thinking with the assumption that standardized tests are a sacred imperative, then, surely the fastest, cheapest, most objective thing is to grade them is with a machine. However, if we begin our thinking with the belief that students should learn how to write well, then we see that artificial intelligence is not just irrelevant, but counterproductive.

Superintendent DeMaria, what is truly being tested here is the ODE itself. Are you so captive to the testing-industrial complex that you throw millions of taxpayer dollars into an unnecessary technology? Or are you so committed to educating students that you are willing to use your available human capital to do it for free?

Yours sincerely,

English teachers at Shaker Heights High School

Dr. Michael Hynes is the Superintendent of the Patchogue-Medford School District on Long Island in New York. He is a champion of child-centered education, has given TED talks, and has led his community in support of a vision of education that is good for children. He should be New York’s State Commissioner of Education.

In this video, he talks about women who informed and inspired him.

You will recognize some of them immediately, maybe all of them.

Is it possible that a math test could be dangerous? This teacher educator, Kassia Omohundro Wedekind, says yes. She says the iReady Assessment is dangerous.

She explains:

This school year Fairfax County Public Schools, the 10th largest school division in the United States, adopted the iReady assessment as a universal screener across all of its elementary schools. Students in grades K-6 take these assessments individually on the computer three times per year, and the results are made available to both teachers and parents.

According to Curriculum Associates, the company that makes iReady, these assessments are an “adaptive Diagnostic for reading and mathematics [that] pinpoints student need down to the sub-skill level, and [provides] ongoing progress monitoring [to] show whether students are on track to achieve end-of-year targets.”

The Fairfax County Public Schools website further asserts that iReady is a “tool that has the potential to streamline Responsive Instruction processes, promote early identification and remediation of difficulties and improve student achievement.”

While I have found this assessment deeply troubling all year, it has taken me a while to be able to articulate exactly why I think this assessment is so dangerous, and why I think we need to use our voices as teachers, administrators and parents to speak out against it.*

So, let’s get back to the claim in the title of this blog post. iReady is dangerous. This might sound like hyperbole. After all, this is just a test, right? In this era of public schooling, children take many assessments, some more useful than others, so what’s the big deal with iReady?…

Based on the scores, iReady generates a report for each student for each of the domains. The report offers a bulleted list of what the student can do and next steps for instruction. However, if you take a look at the finer print you’ll learn that these reports are not generated from the specific questions that the child answered correctly or incorrectly, but rather are a generic list based on what iReady thinks that students who score in this same range in this domain likely need.

The teacher can never see the questions the child answered correctly or incorrectly, nor can she even access a description of the kinds of questions the child answered correctly or incorrectly. The most a teacher will ever know is that a child scored poorly, for example, in number and operations. Folks, that is a giant category, and far too broad to be actionable.

But above all else, the iReady Universal Screener is a dangerous assessment because it is a dehumanizing assessment. The test strips away all evidence of the students’ thinking, of her mathematical identity, and instead assigns broad and largely meaningless labels. The test boils down a student’s entire mathematical identity to a generic list of skills that “students like her” generally need, according to iReady. And yet despite its lumping of students into broad categories, iReady certainly doesn’t hesitate to offer very specific information about what a child likely can do and what next instructional steps should be.

Read on. See her examples. What do you think?

Michael Hynes, the superintendent of the Patchogue-Medford School District on Long Island is a visionary educator. He is truly child-centered. When he thinks about the purpose of education, he doesn’t think about test scores. He thinks about the development of healthy, confident, secure children, who are prepared by their schools to live good lives.

In our test-centric world, this district boldly swims against the tide.

The district recently issued a report about its goals. You might enjoy reading it. Ask yourself: is this what I want for my child?

See the report here.

This is a story written by teacher Jane K. Marsh. It teaches a lesson about the redemptive power of the arts.

The Artful Anastasia

In the eyes of most people, Anastasia was a compliant, dutiful twelve-year-old — a respectful daughter and a model student. Yet, she had another, subversive side that found its way into her art. When she entered the world of creation, she dreamed of worlds as yet undiscovered – beautiful places where all of the earth’s inhabitants were listened to – even children. Of course, many who viewed her work failed to recognize the underlying message. Her paintings were seen as whimsical – those pictures of kittens and birds sharing a drink of water in a dish formed by a peculiar confluence of fallen leaves. Her renderings of foxes and chicks dancing in the moonlight, too, simply were regarded as a pleasant diversion. But Anastasia knew better. Her paintings represented the opening salvos of a battle for the hearts and minds of her community.

Early on, Anastasia had witnessed the all-too-usual, negative behavior of people who did not listen. Unfortunately, her family members were often troubled, and they expressed sorrow and frustration in the usual way – by yelling, accusing and so forth. Sometimes the adults found solace in alcohol which of course led to more yelling, accusing, etc. Her brothers also reflected a combative gene that seemed to rule their waking hours. Even their games involved competition and the outsmarting of one another. Anastasia vowed to live in another way.

At first, she retreated to her own place of peace and creation. When she was upset with the atmosphere of her home life, she created an alternative world in her art – losing herself in her imagination. This activity formed the groundwork from whence her later subversion would take hold. Her paintings also provided others with images of peace that, at least for a moment, appeared to affect them subliminally. That is, the shouting momentarily ceased when others viewed her work.

During one particular painful, parental argument, Anastasia thought to herself, as she had so many times before, “Why can’t they listen to one another? Tell each other calmly and honestly exactly how they feel and why?” Then she decided to create heart-shaped, post-it notes that read: “Ask her how she feels” and “Ask him how he feels.” These she placed in strategic places for her parents to find. Once again, her imagination provided momentary relief for her family. You see, her mum and dad were then aware of the feelings and thoughts of their then ten-year-old daughter, and there was talk of “out of the mouths of babes” and so forth. Anastasia suspected that she had not so easily solved the dilemma of her parents’ relationship, but the “cease-fire” was a start. When tempers flared once more, she would post signs that read “Listen” throughout the house.

Unfortunately, the listen-sign campaign backfired. “I don’t appreciate being scolded by a ten-year-old. You don’t understand everything.” Anastasia knew this to be true. Yet, she had tried, anyway – and would keep on trying – though maybe not at home for a while. Anastasia saved the heart-shaped, post-it notes for another situation that she found troubling.

You see, her school had lately seemed more like a prison. Gone were the days of laughter, conversation and discovery. Rigor and testing had become the norm. There was only one class where Anastasia felt really free to express her inner-most thoughts – and that was art class. The rest seemed like endless preparations for tests that would determine her future. Students were advised to practice self-discipline, to listen intently to their teachers so as to reach potential – that is the next step as determined by tests. Competition became the order of the day. Everyone was trying to outdo the other, and all were vying for the same prize. Then it occurred to Anastasia that the adults who expected to be carefully listened to, had very little time for the thoughts of students. As a result, students ceased to come up with their own ideas. What was the point? No one would hear. Anastasia decided that the focus on testing was the real problem. These big state tests, especially, made everyone nervous and unhappy – and unwilling to listen.

Anastasia would once again use her heart-shaped, post-it notes to send a message – this time to the teachers and students at her school. When no one was looking she placed these notes with the message “The Real Test!” in various places in the school. This anonymous, and somewhat unclear to many, signage, created a discussion in her school, for young and old wanted to know who was behind the message as well as what it meant exactly. Anastasia was pleased to overhear at least one person claim that the signs had to do with love being more important than tests. After a week or so had passed and the furor over the post-it notes had died down, Anastasia followed up with additional post-it notes that were decorated with flowers and simply stated: “Listen.”

As it turned out, this latest admonition largely went over the heads of the population of the school. She had been trying to say that when people take the time to listen to one another, something beautiful grows, but somehow that message was not received in a meaningful way. “Perhaps, it was too vague,” Anastasia thought. She also felt that the message was really aimed at those teachers who had forgotten how to listen to their students. Anastasia decided to paint a picture that would clearly state her concern. So, she drew a comic-strip-type illustration of a teacher and a student poring over a test-preparation booklet in the first frame. In the next frame the student asks the teacher: “Will you listen to me?” The final frame shows student and teacher looking at one another rather than at the test booklet, and the teacher responding: “Yes, I will.”

Maybe it was Anastasia’s imagination, but for a while it seemed to her that teachers were listening better. However, the testing continued all the same. Anastasia was disappointed that her messages and picture had not changed the feeling of the school in a big way.

However, when she admitted to her art teacher that she had been the one behind the mysterious post-it notes and larger illustration, her teacher listened very carefully to Anastasia’s explanation. She also said that it had made a difference because, for a moment in time, Anastasia had encouraged her community to question the road they were taking. The teacher said, “Big change doesn’t happen overnight. However, the artist can at least point the way and start a conversation. And remember, Anastasia, art endures – perhaps because it goes beyond simply stating (or yelling) a concern. Art enables people to stop for a moment – and to think their own thoughts in response. Good work!”

Anastasia felt much better after this conversation. Maybe she couldn’t change the world – nor even a small part of it such as a family or a school – but she could voice her opinions in interesting ways that caused people to listen, though perhaps only momentarily. And she remembered, too, the other purpose in creating art. It made her feel better when she was frustrated, angry or sad – even when she tried and failed to convince others with her views. Art meant healing herself through the illustration of a better world and remaining open to the most exciting part of herself, her imagination.

 

 

This seems to me like a good way to end a very difficult year.

Every so often, it is useful to remember the purposes of education.

It is not about test scores.

It is not about readiness for college and career.

It is not about readiness to be a global competitor.

It is the process of developing judgment, humanity, character, ethical and moral sensibility, one’s sense of self and sense of civic responsibility.

A journalist recently asked me what to read to learn about Dewey’s vision of education.

This was my recommendation.

Here is John Dewey’s creed.

What do you think?