Wednesday, October 29, 2008

Something is Missing

So, I have been experiencing major computer problems at home, which has delayed the publication of this week’s entry, however as usual the wheels in my brain have been churning, and I have been doing quite a bit of reflecting. During the moments my computer has been working, I have also devoted quite a bit of time to reading and responding to other blogs. Practicality played a big part of this; I didn’t want to do any major writing of my own, as I was afraid I would lose it with the random restarting of my computer (which has been the problem I am experiencing- it is so annoying) and as a result the different topics others have blogged about have also sent my brain reeling.

I really enjoyed hearing about Biesta and his ideas and philosophies. Though I have not read any of his writings, and am working solely with what was introduced in class and in the blogs, he seems to have flipped some of our common understandings on their sides. I am quite intrigued by the change in the outlook of empathy, and the idea of putting ourselves in someone else’s shoes and then looking back out at ourselves. What a cool way to see the world. Just hearing about these ideas gave me a lot to think about.

So I have been doing quite a bit of thinking, and I have ended up at a point where it is clear to me, that through all of the discussions on curriculum, pedagogy, and philosophy something is missing. As I begin to pinpoint what this is for me, I am beginning to get a little bit nervous. I am afraid I am opening a can of worms that may be both controversial and somewhat uncomfortable. In order to explain my thoughts, I also recognize that I am putting a part of myself and my beliefs out there, which I have not done until today, and I am left wondering how they will be received (which I suppose is always the case, but in this instance it feels a bit more personal).

Together with this, in my personal life, due to major changes in the past year, I have been going through a very strong period of personal reflection. I have spent the better part of the last 20 years of my life journaling, and so I have been going through an intense process of reviewing and reflecting on my life, my own changes and growth, through my journals.

About 15 years ago, due to various circumstances, I began what I consider to be the spiritual path of my life. This is not to be confused with anything having to do with religion. In fact, my spiritual path led me away from the religious customs and traditions of my conservative Jewish upbringing. As a young, 20-something I found myself uncovering my spiritual self, as a secular Jew living in Israel.

Rereading these journals recently I came across a quote I had noted from a book. The book was a small publication that I vaguely remember, called That Which You Are Seeking Is Causing You To Seek. I did not bother to note the author, and at the time never imagined that I would become an English teacher and actually care that I had not noted it.

The quote read, “In spiritual practice it is good to be disturbed. We want to be disturbed as long as we can be disturbed. When you are not disturbed it is only because you are not disturbed, not because nothing is disturbing. It is true that nothing is intrinsically disturbing, but as long as you can be disturbed you can’t know that. So if we want to wake up, if we want to see how we create disturbance & suffering within ourselves we will want to continue to be disturbed and to pay very close attention to being disturbed for as long as we are disturbed.”

As soon as I read this, from some 15 years ago, I immediately thought of our class, Kincheloe and his “State of Discomfort,” Biesta turning ideas upside down, Hansen and the “Poetics of Teaching,” and even some of the McLuhan ideas, and realized it is all connected. It seems to me that underneath of everything, underneath the curriculum, behind the pedagogy and philosophy, there is the spiritual component that is conspicuously missing, or at least not talked about in an obvious matter. As I continue to read and listen to others, more and more, I feel like these leaders and great minds in education are circling these ideas, but never naming them.

As a result, I am left with the feeling that something is missing, and I am left with many questions. Where does the spiritual fit into all of this? Does spirituality play a role in curriculum, pedagogy, and educational philosophy? Can we talk about god without naming it god? Can we talk about education on a spiritual plane? Can we talk about spirituality in school without bringing in the subject of religion?

If I believe in a god of my understanding, and live my life accordingly, don’t I bring that god to school everyday, even though I never speak a word of it or “teach” about it?

It seems to me that there exists a spirituality that is at the foundation of everything and goes way beyond the religions of the world. Whether we call it God, Jesus, Allah, Buddha, the creator, Krishna, or any other of the many names, is there not an underlying common denominator, or a spirit that exists? Can or does this spirit connect to education, curriculum and our teaching practices regardless of what we choose to name it?

And so, once again, I am left with more questions than answers, which again is the foundation of a spiritual practice. So as I close this entry, which I am sure I will continue to ponder in the future, I wonder about this missing component, this spirit and the role it plays in education, teaching and curriculum. On that note I pose this question: Does curriculum have a soul?

Monday, October 20, 2008

Commercial, Curriculum?

Generally when I sit down to write I have some idea as to what I want to say, and where it is going to go, but today this is not the case. However, I feel like this work is hanging over my head and I have the time now to get it done, and so I guess I am going to see where it ends up. Unlike the feelings some expressed in class, I have never had a problem pushing that publish button. Ideas are just words and thoughts, and I am not certain they were ever really mine in the first place (but that is the subject for a whole other blog).

Yesterday I was watching TV (this is not surprising to anyone who knows me) and within an hour I had seen the same commercial about six times. Each time I saw it, it struck me that this too connects with everything we have been talking about in class, and so now it is my turn to reflect upon a commercial. The commercial I saw was for Dentyne. With exceptionally annoying background music, it shows a variety of different scenes involving human contact and events. As each scene plays out in a couple of seconds, it labels each interaction with a computer descriptor; for example the hug between two people is “transfer complete,” the celebration of the winning goal is “friend request accepted,” and the final kiss is “instant message.” The commercial ends with the tag line, “Dentyne, make face time.*!”

As the commercial ended the first time my initial thought was, though annoying, this is clever marketing, and doesn’t this connect with many of the discussions around McLuhan? Then as the commercial was replayed four or five or six times during the course of the show, the marketing aspect behind its concept began to dawn on me more; this company was using phrases that in actuality require no human contact and giving them entirely new meanings. This is a tactic that is very clever, it changes the meaning of the words and their implications. What a great way to sell gum; what great marketing.

And it was this thought that led my mind to make the great leap to curriculum (and I haven’t quite landed yet, which is why I don’t know where all of this is going to take me). But the thought that came to my mind after seeing this commercial the first time, and then all the subsequent times, was how much of curriculum comes down to marketing? And then, who is doing this marketing, and for whom?

As the discussions in class and through the blogs continue, I am beginning to realize that my own personal definition of curriculum is becoming less important, if not entirely irrelevant. This is not to say that what I do in my classroom is not important. Nor is it to say that I do not need to question my own practice, why I do what I do, and be critical in my thinking. This, in fact, has never been more important, as I am beginning to understand how much greater this role of curriculum actually is, and how unless I am willing to become politically involved on many levels (which today I am not) I have very little control over curriculum and its potential (both positive and negative) in schools today.

I have long known how lucky I am to be a teacher in Manitoba. I have also been very grateful for the freedom I have in my classroom as an English Language Arts teacher, as the learning outcomes of the curriculum are so broad, almost anything can be applied as subject matter, and demonstrations of learning are endless. Though my gratitude in these areas to those who came before me is not something I take for granted, what has been is that all of this could easily change at any moment. The curriculum as I know it could be completely redefined with a change in government, school board, administration, or even by a group of parents.

Which brings me to the topic I have been trying to avoid; curriculum as a definition of power, and then back to that commercial, marketing. The small group discussion around Kincheloe led to conversation regarding certain school practices, curriculum, and the distribution of power. While discussing the new Arts curriculum, Chris very aptly pointed out that regardless of its content, this new curriculum is a document, and not a guide. The difference, upon implementation, is that a document is meant to be upheld and enforced, whether or not we as teachers agree with the content or changes made, as opposed to a curriculum guide, which allows each individual teacher to choose to what suits his/her in the classroom. Chris also cited a historical context when this occurred in relation to government changes, which I recall appreciating hearing at the time, but do not remember now.

Reminded of this perspective, I cannot ignore the fact that curriculum is a point of power, and the powers that be, or as Howard has referred to them, “the gods of education” (albeit in a slightly different context) have put forth curriculum which teachers are expected to uphold. However I may define curriculum, it still comes to me in the form of a document. Given this fact, which I would still prefer to ignore, my definition of curriculum seems suddenly limited to something which can be contained in a document. And while this document may be written by a group of teachers and others who are often respected, which was also pointed out in our discussion, it still remains a document which I am expected to teach in my classroom.

As if this is not enough of a revelation for me, the discussion also included the role of parents and their potential to affect change within a school and influence its culture (does this count as curriculum?). Catherine told the story of the microwaves in her school in her blog last week, and the topic resurfaced with discussions around Oh Cananda, Hatikva (the Israeli National Anthem), and religious practices in our schools today. Groups of parents can have tremendous power as to what happens in schools, at times with little or no say from the teachers involved. While I have no doubt that the majority of parents really do care about their children and their schools, parents have the ability to be loud, persuasive and persistent; they also do a lot of the fundraising. This aspect opens up another dimension to the definition of curriculum, money. Where does money fit into the definition of curriculum? Social standing and classes aside (if that is possible), does money play a part in how curriculum is defined or developed?

Somehow, all of these thoughts and questions then bring me back to the Dentyne commercial; how is curriculum marketed? Is curriculum a commodity which is ultimately “sold,” by and to teachers, students, parents? Is curriculum meant to be a matter of “hocking knowledge?” Has it ended up this way?

So this is where I have ended up for today (a day later than I began). Rereading my thoughts, I realize that these are not new ideas. They are things I have known somewhere, but was really happier ignoring. But when I really allow myself to look within, I know that this curriculum is important stuff; it impacts my life and my classroom every single day.

I guess this is just another beginning, or maybe I am somewhere in the middle. There is also a paradox to these understandings; in recognizing my powerlessness over the “education gods” (at least at this point in my career), I also recognize the strength of my individual voice within my teaching practice. I accept that with this voice comes a great responsibility to be diligent and mindful in my practice. On the other hand, I also must acknowledge that until I am ready to take a more active role in the creation of curriculum (whatever that may be) I have to respect the work of those who have come before me, and those who are doing this work today. I can begin to do this by striving to be both an open-minded individual and a critical pedagogue.

Monday, October 6, 2008

Fifty Great Educators

This weekend was my birthday and so I took a little break from school work and didn’t have time to sit down and write until today, however what I noticed during this time is that a lot of ideas have been running through my head. Similarly to our first course with Wayne, I have had many conversations with colleagues and my mom (a retired teacher of many years) and even though I can’t always sit down and write formally, a lot of ideas have been “percolating” in my mind.

When we were given the task of choosing from the list of “Great Educators” I was really at a loss as to who to choose, and I didn’t consider my choice very important. My studies at the Faculty of Education were so long ago, that with the exception of those people who we studied with Wayne, I really didn’t remember or recognize anyone else, especially as I got the list so close to the end of the class. When I made the choice to go with a Jewish educator it was a fairly flippant decision; I simply thought that I had to pick someone, and as my Jewish identity is such a big part of who I am, I might as well pick someone Jewish. As with many things in life, I didn’t recognize at the time how significant the choice, as well as the process of my choice, was until after the fact.

At the time I noted that considering the list was so small (I am certain there are well over fifty great educators in modern times- at least I hope so), and judging by the names alone, there were quite a few Jewish names on the list. After giving this more thought and reflection, I realized that this is not actually surprising to me at all.

I was brought up Jewish and went to Jewish day schools through to my high school graduation. During my schooling two areas were consistently stressed; the first was my Jewish education, including Jewish values, religion, laws and tradition, and the second was the value of education in general. For as long as I can remember I have known that I was entitled to a good education and that my education was important. As a young student (especially in high school, and even in university) I may not have appreciated this, but I always thought of it as a given. I would do well in high school and I would go to university, which is exactly what I did. It was also what the vast majority of my classmates did, as well as what my brother, my sister and their classmates did in subsequent years.

The value of education has always been at the heart of Jewish tradition and values, and growing up Jewish it was a value that was taught and then continuously emphasized throughout my learning. From the earliest Yiddish stories (I learned Yiddish before Hebrew) the learned Rabbi was a scholar and always the most esteemed member of the community. Having the time to study (in this case the Torah and other biblical and rabbinical teachings) was sought after in the shtetals (Jewish villages- think of "Fiddler on the Roof"), and studying at Yeshivas (rabbinical schools) in Israel today is still held in high esteem (by most- politics aside), and is considered a service to the country; it is often an alternative to going into the Israeli army (again politics aside). Jewish history (for better or worse) has also necessitated the need for the focus on education as at many times throughout Jewish history, Jews were not allowed to own land, and restricted from studying Jewish religion, which led to further stress on the importance of education (both Jewish and secular), as well as the right to study.

As Jews immigrated around the world, especially after the Holocaust, and assimilated to various countries, specifically in North America and Britain, it is not at all surprising that many entered the fields of education, and focused on the connections between education and social justice.

As I began my reading of Basil Bernstein, and then heard the various presentations of the other great educators, who also happened to be Jewish, like Bloom, Eisner and especially Gardner, the impact of Jewish history on modern education in the 20th and 21st century became much clearer to me. It is a part of my history that I have somewhat taken for granted, and I am beginning to realize I need to be both grateful for it and proud of it.

As a result of all of the presentations during last week’s class I also find myself coming back to the question, “What is curriculum?” As with many things in this life, the result of these thoughts is another paradox, as it seems that I am coming both closer to a working definition, and farther away from a definitive answer, simultaneously.

Reading about Bernstein's work helped to clarify a working definition of curriculum for me, and again paradoxically also led to further questions. In his work with “message systems,” Bernstein separated the concepts of curriculum, pedagogy, and later evaluation into clear working definitions. He stated that, “Curriculum defines what counts as valid knowledge, and pedagogy as what counts as valid transmission of knowledge.” He later went on to add, “Evaluation as valid realization of knowledge by those who have been taught” (Fifty Modern Thinkers on Education). Working with these definitions I can narrow the curriculum to the “what” of what we teach, and pedagogy to the “how.” Evaluation is not quite as clear cut, but that is the topic for another blog.

Defining curriculum to the “what” makes things quite clear; curriculum is knowledge and knowledge includes both the facts and the skills. The topics and the processes are equally important, for one could not exist without the other. Curriculum can then encompass everything we teach, which at first glance appears to make things quite simple, but as always with questions like these, things are never that simple. This definition only leads to many more questions. The two most pertinent questions which come to my mind are, 1. Who then decides what this valid knowledge is?” and 2. Can we ever truly separate curriculum (valid knowledge) from pedagogy (how the knowledge is transmitted)? These are questions I am still pondering and I am certain I will return to in later reflections.

Before I close this entry I would also like to share one very interesting insight that my mother expressed in the course of one of our conversations. My mother recently retired from teaching for over 25 years in Winnipeg's core area, and so we often talk about my courses and the discussions we have in class (she also helps me greatly with my research and has my Questia password- thanks mom). My mom commented that, “Curriculum has changed with the different periods in society. In the 60’s it was about the “what,” the facts, and the inspectors would come into the schools and expect that each teacher, in each classroom, would be on the same page in the same book, according to their grade level. Then in the 80’s the focus shifted to the “how;” with Bloom’s Taxonomy and Gardner’s Multiple Intelligences and of course, Piaget, teaching became all about the development of the child and how they learned. A third shift then began to occur in 2000’s, when she noted that the “who” had moved into the forefront, and the individual student including their background and experience were considered to be a part of learning.” I thought this was a pretty cool observation, especially as it was an understanding of her experiences. It also reminded me of the “Growing up Canadian” video and the changes in our schools, and how we are all a part of that. So even if I don’t have any of the answers, it’s good that I am asking the questions.