Written by Mary
Sherry
The following selection first appeared as
a 1991 “My turn” column in Newsweek
Tens of
thousands of 18-year-olds will graduate this year and be handed meaningless
diplomas. These diplomas won’t look any different from those awarded their
luckier classmates. Their validity will be questioned only when their employers
discover that these graduates are semiliterate.
Eventually a
fortunate few will find their way into educational repair shops-adult literacy
programs, such as the one where I teach basic grammar and writing. These, high-
school graduates and high-school dropouts pursing graduate-equivalency
certificates will learn the skills they should have learned in high school.
They will also discover they have been cheated by our educational system.
As I teach, I
learn a lot about our schools. Early in each session I ask my students to write
about an unpleasant experience they had in school. No writers’ block here! “I
wish someone would have had made me stop doing drugs and made me study.” “I
liked to party and no one seemed to care.” “I was a good kid and didn’t have
any trouble, so they just passed me along even though I didn’t read well and
couldn’t write. “ And so on.
I am your basic
do-gooder, and prior to teaching this class I blamed the poor academic skills
our kids have today on drugs, divorce and other impediments to concentration
necessary for doing well in school. But, as I rediscover each time I walk into
classroom, before a teacher can expect students to concentrate, he has to get
their attention, no matter what distractions may be at hand. There are many
ways to do this, and they have much to do with teaching style. However, if
style alone won’t do it, there is another way to show who holds the winning
hand in the classroom. That is to reveal the trump card of failure.
I will never
forget a teacher who played that card to get the attention of one of my
children. Our youngest, a world-class charmer, did little to develop his
intellectual talents but always got by. Until Mrs. Stifter.
Our son was a
high-school senior when he had her for English. “He sits in the back of the
room talking to his friends,” she told me. “Why don’t you move him to the front
row?” I urged believing the embarrassment would get him to settle down. Mrs.
Stifter looked at me steely-eyed over her glasses. “I don’t move seniors,” she
said. “I flunk them.” Our son’s academic life flashed before my eyes. No
teacher had ever threatened him with that before. I gained my composure and
managed to say that I thought she was right. By the time I got home I was
feeling pretty good about this. It was a radical approach for these times, but
well, why not? “She‘s going to flunk you,” I told my son. I did not discuss it
any further. Suddenly English became a priority in his life. He finished out
the semester with an A.
I know one
example doesn’t make a case, but at night I see a parade of students who are
angry and resentful for having been passed along until they could no longer
even pretend to keep up. Of average intelligence or better, they eventually
quit school, concluding they were too dumb to finish. “I should have been held
back,” is a comment I hear frequently. Even sadder are those students who are
high-school graduates who say to me after a few weeks if class, “I don’t know
how I ever got a high-school diploma.”
Passing students
who have not mastered the work cheats them and the employers who expect
graduates to have basic skills. We excuse this dishonest behavior by saying
kids can’t learn if they come from terrible environments they come from-most
kids don’t put school on their list of priorities unless they perceive
something is at stake. They’d rather be sailing.
Many students I
see at night school give expert testimony on unemployment, chemical dependency,
and abusive relationships. In spite these difficulties, they have decided to
make education a priority. They are motivated by the desire for a better job or
the need to hang on to the one they got. They have a healthy fear of failure.
People of all ages can rise above their problems, but they need to have a reason to do so. Young people generally don’t have the maturity to value education in the same way my adult students value it. But fear of failure, whether economic or academic, can motivate both.
Flunking as a
regular policy has just as much merit today as it did two generations ago. We
must review the threat of flunking and see it as it really is-a positive
teaching tool. It is an expression of confidence by both teachers and parents
that the students have the ability to learn the material presented to them.
However, making it work again would take a dedicated, caring conspiracy between
teachers and parents. It would mean facing the tough reality that passing kids
who haven’t learned the material-while it might save them grief for the
short-term-dooms them to long–term illiteracy. It would mean that teachers
would have to follow through on their threats, and parents would have to stand
behind them, knowing their children’s best interests are indeed at stake. This
means no more doing Scott’s assignments for him because he might fail. No more
passing Jodi because she’s a nice kid.
This is a policy
that worked in the past and can work today. A wise teacher, with the support of
his parents, gave our son the opportunity to succeed-or fail. It’s time we
return this choice to all students.
No comments:
Post a Comment