Two ideas in this week’s reading particularly stuck with me, not because the notions are necessarily new, but because of how they were elaborated, placed in the context of our course work, and how they then framed my reflections on my high school experiences. These ideas certainly, then, have implications for our work as professional educators as well. Those ideas are schools as places of initiation and education as a “process by which a culture transmits itself across the generations” (p. 12). However, the notion of education as transmitter becomes a different matter altogether as Waks makes the distinction between education and schooling, at which point one sees schooling as transmitting itself across generations en lieu of education — or at the very least, alongside it.
My High School According to Waks
The high school I attended consistently ranked among the top public districts in the state. In
the late 1970’s and early 1980’s, it was the epitome of the suburban district delivering a “conventional curriculum-based schooling” (p.11) for the mostly college-bound upper middle-class students it served. About a dozen years out from the first rumblings of the Internet (back when it was a proper noun), the faculty and curriculum of my high school absolutely set a path for a “‘particular way of becoming a person-in-society'”(p. 12) . It transmitted the college prep culture across the generations from the Postwar/GI Bill years of the Greatest Generation through the Vietnam years of the Baby Boomers to those of us in Generation X. However, the society my high school sought to initiate me into would no longer exist by the time I graduated from college.
The predictable and orderly “rules of governing…that build up around all of the significant aspects of life in society” (p. 28) my high school teachers were preparing us for were not those of the social, networked, collaborative, knowledge economy in which we currently live. As an educator, I can look back now and see quite clearly the assumptions our teachers made about who we would be as adults reflected in what they taught us and how they taught it to us. They initiated us to be professionals and business people, specifically working in New York City, mostly in high rises, offices and cubicles. Aside from the occasional think/pair/share exercise, I can’t recall a single small-group-activity-to-large-group-shareout I ever experienced in four years of high school classroom learning. Yet I do remember an entire lesson dedicated to learning how to do the “subway fold” with a newspaper. (This is a particular kind of large-scale origami that with a specific set of folds, flips and turns allows one to read a broadsheet newspaper on a crowded train without the paper ever taking up more space than a trade paperback. I even remember the class being instructed to turn to the business section to start the fold and then our teacher coming to each of our desks to watch us demonstrate the fold as an individual performance assessment.) Talk about initiation.
My high school was also the perfect example of mass schooling that habituated us “to the norms of industrial life rather than academic learning” (p. 40). The only exceptions to that would be my “egg-crated” French classes and “extracurricular” theater program. I can point to real learning from those experiences. Still, if I had to estimate, I’d say my high school learning consisted of 25% education and 75% schooling. It really wasn’t until college that I can begin identifying multiple courses that exposed me to much more new knowledge and understandings than I can count — even if it was done within a hierarchical model. But from my high school experiences, I can write well and I can still speak, read, and write French. I can present in front of audiences of all sizes. I can fold a newspaper like nobody’s business. But math stumps me both conceptually and practically. When it came to math I wish I had been allowed to “build up [an] active capability sufficient to perform with enjoyment in activities and share in their values” — and for me, this entailed different methods than were consistently employed throughout my K-12 experience. Given my deep fascination with language, what if I had been encouraged to explore math as another language with its own vocabulary, grammar and syntax rather than as mere formulae known by “rote learning unconnected to performance” (p. 30)? I imagine I would have had a very different experience of math then and far less anxiety about it today.
Waks’s 7 characteristics of the hierarchical/industrial/factory model (p. 38) map directly to my high school. So too were we examples of Sizer’s point that the architecture and grammar of contemporary schooling have changed so little in the past 100+ years and we were so stuck in that way of schooling that college as the next step after high school wasn’t even conceived of as optional (p. 39). In my family, the question was never, “Are you going to college after high school?” In my family, the questions were, “Which four-year college will you attend?” and “Will you attend close to home and commute, or will you go away to college and live on campus?” As a teenager, I was barely even aware of my astounding economic luck to have those as my options, never mind understand the underlying assumptions.
The Sticky Framing Question
I keep returning to the question of the ways in which my high school was a success or a failure in terms of Waks’s beliefs. In terms of how it functioned as an institution that “introduce[d] order and predictability [and] consist[ed] of rules governing the practices that build up around all of the significant aspects of life in society” (p. 28) — such as life and society still were in the early 1980’s — I would say it was successful. Where it failed was in the administration’s and faculty’s ability to see what was coming just five years down the pike, adapt to it, and prepare us accordingly as best they could. Admittedly, a nearly impossible order given the architecture of schooling. So they schooled all of us such that we could attend college and then take our place in a stable, lifelong, white-collar career with a single company that would then provide the benefits we need through retirement — just as our parents and grandparents had experienced. It makes me laugh even to type that today. For Gen X, those work and societal scenarios were already obsolete by the time we graduated college. And that meant years of struggle, doubt, and misbelief about our own success when, by the age of 28, we were already on to our second or third job placement. Sadly, those outdated notions were only reinforced by the older generations who questioned our ability to hold a job and admonished us to “settle down” and “make a decision” about what to do with our lives. My high school and the educators who staffed it did not recognize that “social, political, religious and economic institutions work together in an interdependent institutional order” and that several of those were about to change “in fundamental ways [and that education] must adapt” (p. 28). That was so at the dawn of the information age and it is so again as a Civilization 2.0 reveals itself through a truly global, collaborative society connected through the digital, networked devices that billions of people carry in their pockets. Nearly every institution has been impacted by the internet and information and communication technology — particularly our social, political and economic institutions. Yet our educational institutions have been slow “to give”.
Reflecting on this week’s readings through these framing questions has left me a bit dispirited. Heidi Hayes Jacobs is fond of asking teachers, “What year are you preparing your students for?” From my high school experiences as a student and the evidence I see as a teacher and consultant now 30 years on, the answer — at least in urban schools — more often than not is indeed the 1990’s. Society has changed several times over in the years since I was in high school, and yet too many of our schools chug along in the same, centuries-old, outmoded paradigm. Still, Waks helps us remain optimistic. “Mass secondary education is an accident that turned into an institution. As we re-imagine education in the Internet age, remember that today’s system is an unshapely human invention that today’s humans can replace by another invention better suited for our times” (p.21). That’s encouraging, even if it is a long road ahead.
Waks, L. J. (2016). Education 2.0: The learningweb revolution and the transformation of the school. New York, NY: Routledge.