As I sit here watching snowflakes thud to the earth outside the window and thinking about what I want to communicate in this proposal to create an alternative “educational path”, I am continuously reminded of how my experience with the education system (with university as well as the preceding 12 years) has failed me, and how modern education in the Western world continues to fail us all. Two salient questions then, as they relate to my proposition and future experience here at Northeastern, are: “How and why is education failing us,” and, “What can be done to change the existing educational framework to achieve what students themselves feel is important in this process?” The primary reason for writing this proposal is to elude the uncompromising rigidity of this system’s academic curriculum with the hope of shaping my experience to accommodate my goals, my needs, and my ambitions; expecting anything less would shatter our true potential as human beings and undermine the essential nature of education, which, contrary to our present notions, is more than the crass meritocracy that dictates who ‘succeeds’ and who ‘fails’ based upon certain assumptions about what ‘learning’ is. The Latin root of the word education, ‘educere’, means to ‘draw out from within’, or to ‘lead forth’, and refers to the vital, engaging process that it’s meant to be- a process of unearthing and discovering who you are, what your true gifts are, and how you can most joyfully use these gifts to participate in the world around you.
And so, I want to begin this ‘communiqué’ with a discussion revolving around some possible answers to the “two salient questions” above, as I believe it will present a fitting introduction to my academic proposal (which only peripherally involves education), as well as expose an interesting perspective as to how this all plays out in a ‘real-world’ context.
___________________
Here is an important question that is often asked by education reformer Sir Ken Robinson: How can children/students be prepared to take their place in the economies of the 21st century, given that we can’t even anticipate what the economy will look like at the end of next week? I would modify this question to read: How do we prepare our children to live in the 21st century, given that we can’t even anticipate what the world will look like in 5 years time? Forget the economy. Rivers, oceans, and watersheds are being poisoned (in the U.S. alone, 40% of waterways are undrinkable; 75% of fisheries fished at or beyond capacity), forests and arable land are being annihilated to make room for cattle ranches, oil drilling facilities, and parking lots (80% of the world’s forests are GONE; in the U.S., less than 4% remain intact; in the Amazon, 2000 trees are cut down every minute), and unabated patterns of consumption are continuously eroding the ability of ecosystems to sustain life. From listening to mainstream media in this culture, you’d think that the economy was more real than the natural world. If the ecological crisis weren’t so real, I’d feel jaded and apathetic incessantly focused on such a ‘hackneyed’ talking point (only because of the lack of concern shown on the part of people in this culture, as if our wellbeing has nothing to do with the health of the so-called ‘environment’). With the unprecedented explosions in population comes unprecedented drain on the Earth’s ‘resources’ and carrying capacity, as well as unprecedented demand for innovation, fresh thinking, and revolutionary ways of helping people connect with themselves and have lives of purpose and meaning.
Nota Bene:
Although I tend to view the ecological crisis as a kind of crux or focal point of a broader convergence of crises- social, political, economic, etc.- I feel as though none of these issues is separate from the other. I believe that these crises are inevitable products of how we’ve constructed our worldviews, cosmologies, belief structures, and understandings about the nature of reality, which are the raw origins of our social systems. My proposed study track will be an examination of these cosmologies, and how a possible “shift in consciousness” can help us access new realms of thinking and being, new internal dimensions of spirituality, imagination, creativity, artistry, and wisdom. It will be a revival of archaic values and animistic appreciation for life’s beautiful interconnectedness- a restoration of both indigenous erudition and deep ecology with a modern technological underpinning. I will discuss this later in more detail.
So, returning to the subject of modern educational paradigms, the point I’m getting to is this: our school systems are trying to meet this extraordinarily unpredictable future with what they’ve done in the past. As John Taylor Gatto eloquently argues in his books, the current system of education was designed, conceived, and structured for a different age- in the intellectual culture of the Enlightenment, and the economic circumstances of the Industrial Revolution. With the exception of a few alternative school programs like the ‘Waldorf’ pedagogy (created by Rudolf Steiner), the paradigms of Western education have remained relatively analogous since their inception, when they were modeled on the interests of industrialism. “Schools are pretty much still organized on factory lines,” says Ken Robinson, “with the ringing of bells (obviously doesn’t apply to university), the specialization into separate subjects. We still educate children in batches; we put them through the system by age group. Why do we do that? Why is there this assumption that the most important thing kids have in common is how old they are? It’s like their most important thing about them is their date of manufacture.”
Well I know kids who are much better than other kids at the same age in different disciplines. Or at different times of the day. Or better in smaller groups than in large groups. Or sometimes they want to be on their own. If you are interested in the model of learning, you don’t start with this production line mentality. It’s become increasingly about conformity, especially when you look at the increase in standardized testing and curricula. We’ve spent years at school being told, ‘There’s one answer, it’s at the back of the book. And don’t look. And don’t copy, because that’s cheating. Outside of school this is called collaboration.’
I am intimately familiar with the protocols of the public school system, having been a victim of its ruthlessly rational standards and criteria for 12 years. I agree completely with Sir Ken when he argues that as children progress through this system, they are educated out of their creative capacities. There was a study done in the book, Break Point and Beyond, about ‘divergent thinking’ – the ability to think “laterally” about questions, to interpret questions in multiple ways, and to see lots of possible answers- in which different age groups were asked, “How many different uses can you think of for a paper clip?” If you scored above a certain level (by perhaps theorizing, ‘What if the paper clip were 200 feet tall and made of foam rubber?’), you were considered a ‘genius’ at divergent thinking. In the first group of kindergarten students, 98% scored above genius level. In the next group, students between the ages of 8 and 10, 32% scored above the mark. Only 10% of the 13-15 age group qualified for ‘genius level’, while less than 2% of adults older than 25 qualified. While divergent thinking isn’t the same thing as creativity, it is certainly an essential capacity of it, and we see that, particularly in public schooling before university, children are being subjected to distorted assumptions about the nature of learning while being stripped of what the world needs most at this turbulent time- creative and innovative ways of thinking.
Although there is a great leap of difference between the public school system and university education structure, I believe that Northeastern, and most mainstream university systems, are still operating under fundamentally flawed presumptions about society, intelligence, ability, economic purpose, and above all, what people need. Every year, enormous sums of green pieces of paper (money) are spent on education, yet academic performance is decreasing [the prime example being ‘No Child Left Behind’] and dropout rates (especially in college) are skyrocketing. But there’s a noteworthy theme running through this, that also permeates the university setting, and that is: we are educating from the outside in; we are asking, ‘What does the economy need,’ ‘What does the university need to streamline its efficiency and turnover rate’, ‘What do teachers need to make their jobs easier,’ ‘What kinds of policies can we enact to keep everyone in line with our agenda,’ and making students conform, rather than building an educational model around the richness of imagination and the unique learning sensitivities of each child. One of my criticisms of Northeastern is that it seems the academic process has become more about ‘earning’ a degree and joining the job market than the ‘drawing out from within’ of human potential and self-awareness. It’s more about progressing through the system following arbitrary, standardized benchmarks of achievement (grades, tests) than cultivating the innate creative capacities of each student. Learning is not a mechanistic procedure of uniformity and homogenization, but rather an organic, delicate process that depends upon feelings, relationships, motivation, value/self-value, identity, community, and purpose.
As part of this proposal, I am asking for a ‘Pass/Fail’ mode of grading to be implemented for all of my classes. I feel that the conventional letter grade system has profound implications and consequences within the sphere of learning, which fiercely restrict the potential of students to fully grasp and explore the realms of their minds and those available in academia. I think this is rather important to discuss a bit further, as it carries supreme relevance to the idea of thinking differently about human capacity.
In the Spring of 2010, I took Peoples and Cultures with ________, whom I think is a shrewd, perceptive, and gifted scholar, not to mention an all-around great person with whom to just chat and discuss ideas (in spite of the near impossibility of tracking him down). Our class curriculum consisted of three ethnographies (studying the Ju’hoansi, Sioux Native Americans, and the Rastafarian movement), and three exams (on each book/ethnic group). Here is the everyday drill for students: wander into class hall half-asleep with Dunkin’ Donuts coffees and iPods; open notebooks and mechanically begin copying _____’s words as they come out of his mouth (an occasional raising of a hand to ask, ‘Will this be on the test?’ followed by a return to vigorous note-taking); on the nights before exams, tirelessly memorize copious notes (____’s words) to regurgitate them onto a piece of paper the next day; remain after class to discuss with ____ grades, tests, and ‘performance’ in the course; then promptly exit the building to return to an apo-academic life that usually has little to do with what’s going on inside the classroom. Is this not true? We have very little time outside of school (homework, classes, etc.) to wrap our heads around the material in a way we can relate to, as ‘extracurricular’ activity is normally dedicated to leisure- to get on with the business of life: enjoying ourselves. Rarely do professors ask, “What do you guys think about this?” or, “How does this relate to what you want to achieve?”
Now, I realize this was an introductory Anthropology class with 150 students, but, as I communicated to ____ on several occasions, this is the predominant model of this system, which I don’t think is conducive to true, authentic learning. I really enjoyed the ethnographies, and I extracted a lot of valuable things that I felt were important as they related to my interests, my goals, and my opinions about the material’s significance; however, I did not take notes (it’s not very difficult to remember concepts if you actually want to remember them- for yourself, not to pass a test), which were the basis for exams [if you were to record Alan’s lectures and allowed to use it during exams, you would not miss a question]. My exam grades were as follows: C+ (Ju’hoansi), D (Rastafari), A- (Sioux). I would have received a C had I not elected to petition for the ‘Pass/Fail’ option. But all that matters in this system- all that students have to show for to smack on resumés- is this omnipotent ‘letter’, as if your total achievement (intellectually, existentially, experientially, how this affects your growth as a person, etc.) is encapsulated in this arbitrary symbol. I learned an extraordinary amount from reading the ethnographies and listening to Alan: how spirituality and animism form integral parts of indigenous culture; how most older cultures outside of Western civilization possess remarkable, ‘deep ecological’ values; how an intimate connection to, and knowledge of, the Earth can create beautifully simple and sustainable patterns of living and being. Are these realizations worth a C+? Can anyone (or any institution) tell you the value of your achievement?
I doubt we’d be very concerned about these grades, class ranks, and test scores if this external evaluation didn’t have such a significant influence on our paths and decisions (I know I wouldn’t!); in fact, I think we’d be exploring the world with a lot more purpose and energy if this desensitizing method of assessment were discarded. But it’s more complicated than that. The educational structure is so securely fastened to the foundations of our competitive economic/social systems: many of the underlying tenets of Capitalism- the ruthless, aggressive notions of Social Darwinism- are neatly embedded within the very fabric of modern education. At a very young age we’re pitted against one another as the fulfillment of this broader story of a barbarous, unforgiving, dog-eat-dog world- that is really a vicious myth about the nature of human social systems and the fictitious cultural beliefs that form the bedrock of Western industrial civilization. One consequence of this, as it relates to education, is that millions of brilliant children think they’re not, because they’ve been judged against these spurious assumptions and values. Another consequence (as it relates to grades and test scores) is that by the time we’re adults, we’re so frightened of being wrong that we’ve completely lost the capacity to be creative. Now, this isn’t to say that being wrong is the same thing as being creative, but, as Sir Ken Robinson says, “If you’re not prepared to be wrong, then you’ll never come up with anything original.” If you’re not prepared to be wrong. We run both our companies and education systems like this- stigmatizing mistakes- and it results in systematic damage, both on an individual and societal scale.
When I first mentioned the idea of a ‘Pass/Fail’ grading system to _________ of the Interdisciplinary Studies department (via email), she replied bluntly, “The letter grade system will be applied to all courses.” Why? Why must we always put these burdensome limits on the way we grow, and decline unflinchingly when someone questions these limits? Perhaps one concern would be that the ‘Pass/Fail’ model would lower academic standards; I am absolutely certain of the contrary (at least as it applies to me). I’m reading several books at the moment: Original Wisdom: Stories of an Ancient Way of Knowing by Robert Wolff, On Nature and the Environment by Jiddu Krishnamurti, The Ascent of Humanity by Charles Eisenstein, and The Power of Now by Eckhart Tolle, which I am constantly re-examining. I don’t need any authority figures assessing, evaluating, and mandating that I read these books because I want to read them. I love reading them, and I love contemplating ways of ending the tremendous suffering that’s inflicted on the Earth and its inhabitants every day by ‘modern industrialism’ (and the vulnerable, egoic minds that run it). My point is this: people do their best when they’re doing what they love… when they’re in their element. Just as children don’t need to be persuaded to run or play or sing or shout, and just as adults don’t need to be coerced into making love, people don’t need to be convinced to explore the world; one doesn’t need to be convinced to pursue one’s passions. It’s just a matter of providing and cultivating environments in which these passions can burst forth into existence. Grades are created to either, a) cajole people into doing things they’d rather not do by transporting ‘value’ and ‘achievement’ to arbitrary, external standards for the university’s convenience, or b) support the economic systems by filtering students into certain categories of ‘qualification’ for job markets. I wonder what percentage of working adults would do their jobs for free. I’d guess less than 10%. Maybe less than 5%. When the primary motive for ‘work’ is to earn green pieces of paper [mainly to spend as ‘consumer capital’ and entertainment instead of investing in land bases and sustainable living practices], you are no longer connected with yourself, no longer living with purpose.
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