Category: Education

It’s Time To Do What Is Right

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

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He’s a sweet child, innocent and earnest with a bit of Tom Sawyer mixed in. He works hard and is able to manipulate numbers with the best of them, but when in comes to the questions on the STAAR test he sometimes gets befuddled. He wants to be like his dad whom he adores, a smart engineer. Somehow he loses confidence whenever he compares himself because, after all, the STAAR test often challenges his abilities and makes him feel less than. He worries a great deal about how he will do on the mathematics test because he has to work slowly to be certain that he is correct in his analysis of the questions. He gets most of the answers correct, but often has to hurry to finish in time and that’s when he just has to make a best guess. He wants to be thought of as smart and competent, which he is, but that test threatens to make him look bad, so he becomes anxious. His teacher confided that she doesn’t think he will pass. He goes to his mother in a state of panic and cries. He wonders what he will do if he fails. Suddenly his head is so filled with fear that he can’t think. All of the concepts that he understands so well become jumbled and he has difficulty remembering things that he has mastered. The high stakes of the test have him discombobulated and he is only ten years old, already a worried old man having to deal with the trajectory of his future when he should be outside enjoying the lovely spring weather with his friends.

He took the STAAR test on Tuesday. It will be a while before any of us know how he did. I prayed all day Monday that he would remain calm and be able to reach into his memory bank to work the problems. He is able to tackle operations with fractions better than many high school students that I have taught. He understands how to perform operations with expressions as well and how to turn a linear graph or a table into an equation. He is able to discuss financial terms like gross and net income, property and payroll taxes. He is very bright in every way, but that test seems evil to him. The questions purposely have hidden meanings that he sometimes doesn’t catch. The problems may take as many as four steps to complete. When he’s nervous he might miss the catch, and he was very nervous on Tuesday.

I tried to show him how to tackle each question. I reminded him not to tarry too long on a single problem. I urged him to draw pictures of the given ideas. Together we underlined important information and crossed out whatever didn’t matter. He caught on quickly and his daily grades in school improved. He was named the student of the month because his teachers saw how hard he was working, and because he is so wonderfully kind. Still he was so concerned that he might not do well on the test, so I attempted to calm him. His parents also did their best to raise his confidence level. We all quietly worried that he was working himself into a state of mind that would interfere with his ability to do as well as he is capable.

Each school year I find myself railing at the STAAR test and other instruments supposedly used to measure the abilities and achievement levels of students. They are cold and supposedly objective ways of determining how well students and schools are doing, and yet we all know that they favor certain types of children over others. As a teacher I often witnessed kids who did little or nothing in class hit home runs on standardized tests while others who were almost religious in the way they applied themselves crashed and burned. According to the exam they had not learned all that they should have, but I knew better because I was so familiar with who they were. Some of those same youngsters who flopped on the state exams went on to graduate with honors from college and to be highly successful in their chosen careers. It angered me that so many decisions were being made about them along the way based solely on a one day test created by a company that makes millions of dollars spewing out questions that many adults would be unable to answer correctly.

I recall a time when one of my principals complained that the teachers in the mathematics department were not raising student scores enough. He demanded that they work harder. Since I was the department head I took his criticisms personally and felt a bit defensive. I wanted him to know what the teachers and the students were dealing with so I gave him a seventh grade mathematics test and told him to complete it in the allotted time frame. Just as I would have with the kids I monitored him while he worked the problems. From time to time he looked at me in frustration and I read his body language to mean that he was beginning to see how difficult the tests can be. When he was finished I graded his work immediately. He made a sixty seven. He was crushed and asked me to never reveal his score to anyone. He then met with the mathematics teachers and praised them for their dedication. He told them that he understood just how difficult it was to prepare the students for the tests. His encouragement brought results. Every single teacher had better overall scores than in the past. Perhaps the tests had been easier, but I prefer to think that when the teachers felt more support they transferred their own feelings to the students.

I seriously question why we put students and teachers and even principals through the misery of yearly standardized testing. I worry about the well being of our children and question putting them through such stressful situations when the overall results of such measures don’t actually correlate to ultimate success in life. We are deluding ourselves in thinking that the exams are fair because every study has shown that they are not. Mostly they turn off the natural curiosity of children and their willingness to take risks. So many psyches are being crushed making the “I hate math” crowd grow larger and larger when we might instead encourage our children to explore the world of numbers without worrying that they will be harmed. Math can actually be fun, but not so much when it is used to label an individual.

I suppose that I will continue my yearly rant with no effect, but I feel compelled to defend all of the boys and girls who live in fear of the humiliation that sometimes comes from them. I refuse to be quiet until somebody finally listens and considers the true worth of such measures. Instead of making testing companies rich, perhaps it is time that we enrich the lives of our young by pulling the plug on such high stakes testing. It’s well past time to use our heads and finally do what is right.

  

There Must Be A Better Way

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

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Here in Houston we have had a number of locally famous doctors. Among them was a bonafide Texan named Red Duke. Red worked on trauma cases in an emergency room where some of the most seriously injured arrived again and again in hopes of miracles. God only knows how many lives Dr. Duke saved during his career. I know for certain that he was responsible for rescuing the daughter of one of my dear friends from the brink of death. The young girl was brought to him from an horrific auto accident barely breathing. The family had been told that things looked grim and they were preparing themselves for the worst. Dr. Duke went to work on her broken and battered body, and she not only survived, but went on to lead a very normal and happy life.

The interesting thing about Red Duke is that he was also a kind of celebrity here in Houston because he regularly appeared on a health spot on one of the local television stations. He was appealing because he seemed to be the quintessential cowboy with his enormous mustache and unapologetic drawl. His advice was always spot on and his folksy ways only made him more endearing to those of us in the audience. Over the years he earned quite a name for himself and the whole city mourned his passing as if he had been a family friend. His memory lives on for those of us who admired him and his work and even schools have been named in his honor.  More than anything Dr. Red Duke was a brilliant physician who dedicated his life to helping the citizens of our city to overcome some of the worst possible injuries.

Red Duke was a graduate of Texas A&M University, and the story of how he became a student at that renowned institution tells a great deal about his character and how things used to be in a long ago time. Red wasn’t school in the ways of academia, but he was a bright fellow and he knew that he wanted a college degree so he found out when the fall classes would commence at A&M and simply showed up one day announcing that he wanted to study science. He had not filled out an application nor even taken any entrance exams because he didn’t realize that there was a formal admission process. Instead He simply visited one of the departments and announced that he was ready to tackle the curriculum. The professor with whom he spoke was so taken with Red that he immediately decided to allow the enterprising young man to register. Of course Dr. Duke proved to be more than qualified for the rigors of the college and went on to become the incredible doctor that we knew and loved.

I often think about this story and others like it whenever I hear of how difficult it has become for students to earn admission to universities. The days of the old college try are mostly gone. Admissions are competitive to the point of overlooking a great deal of talent, and certainly nobody like Red Duke would be taken seriously in today’s environment. It’s sad to think about all of the students who might actually do quite well if given the opportunity to be judged on something other than grades and test scores which are often affected by considerations having little to do with actual capabilities.

We all know those types who get nervous on high stakes standardized tests and rarely do as well as they might. I am one of those who seem to literally lose my mind when faced with a ticking clock and sets of questions that I must attack quickly, and yet my cumulative GPA in college was almost a perfect 4.0. I’m a very hard worker and someone who may take a day or so longer than others to master a concept, but I will do it every time because I am filled with nonstop determination. Such traits don’t always matter much in today’s world where everyone is just one of thousands of electronically submitted applications, essays, and scores. 

There is also the problem of with the subjectivity of grading that varies tremendously from one place to another, one teacher to the next. A very high grade may be easy to achieve in one school but unlikely in another. It’s almost impossible to judge the true worth of grades without closely studying the history of the courses and the types of measures used. It’s well known that some universities, for example grade hard, while others dole out A’s and B’s like water. Being in the top ten percent of a graduating class at Bellaire High School is much more difficult to achieve than doing the same thing at other Houston. Purdue University has a reputation for generally giving students lower marks than they would make with the same level of work at one of the Ivy League schools. Grades are a very subjective and complex measure and yet they mean everything when attempting to gain entrance to the best colleges and universities.

All of this reliance on data rather than the living breathing characteristics of individuals has created a kind of intense game that dedicated high schoolers must play in order to move to the next level. The stressors are unbelievable and today’s students are having to work at a continually fast pace just to stay in the race. In the meantimes classes are becoming ever more rigorous as the required knowledge and skills are advancing to levels that were once the domain of universities. It is little wonder that so many young people are burning out and even becoming ill. It is more and more difficult for them to just be carefree. Instead their lives are dominated by studying and activities from the moment they arise each morning until late into the night, and the pressure just appears to be getting worse, not to even mention the fears of violence that hang over their heads.

There is so much required material to cover that teachers are beginning to rely more and more on videos and supplemental readings for their students. Assignments are often long and complex, taking hours to complete with very short amounts of intervals allotted to do the work. There are projects and extra curricular activities that fight for inclusion on overloaded calendars. All too often parents only find moments to spend time with their children over assignments and as spectators at events. Family togetherness is being stolen to the point of ridiculousness and because of the demands those who rebel and refuse to play the game are unlikely to get acceptance letters from the universities that they most want to attend. Few are given a chance to just prove themselves if their bonafides are not up to speed. Qualifications have to be golden from the start.

I understand that universities are crowded and must somehow draw the line on how many admissions they may grant. Still I wonder how many Red Dukes are being turned away. How much potential is lost?  Why should the actions or lack of them from teenagers be used to determine futures? Surely brilliance and potential cannot possibly be measured in the same way for all people.

I’d love to see a bit more willingness from admissions panels to deviate from formulaic decision making. In using only certain guidelines we are surely missing some unique souls who might be the future change makers of our world. Perhaps it’s time to use a bit more common sense and be open to that individual who shows up with something so beguiling that it’s worth setting aside the formulas to see what he or she might do. We need to consider whether or not we are stealing the happy days from our youth by placing them in the kinds of stressful situations that presently exist. Somehow there must be a better way.

Taking One For The Team

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

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A little food for thought… A group of twelve wolves:  The three in front are old and sick, they walk in front to set the pace of the running group lest they get left behind. The next five are the strongest and best, they are tasked to protect the front side if there is an attack. The pack in the middle are always protected from any attack. The five behind them are also among the strongest and best; they are tasked to protect the back side if there is an attack. The last one is the LEADER. He ensures that no one is left behind. He keeps the pack unified and on the same path. He is always ready to run in any direction to protect and serves as the body guard to the entire group. Just in case anyone wanted to know what it means to be a leader, it’s not about being out front. It means taking care of the team. —-Ivan Ginsberg

The best bosses that I ever had were quiet leaders. Sometimes it was not until they had gone that those of us who worked for them understood the full extent of their greatness. They were the kind of men and women who rarely tooted their own horns, but rather proudly shined the limelight on their employees instead. They sometimes took the heat in our defense without mentioning the troubles that they were willing to endure for us. They were low key but ferociously loyal to the team. The success that they sought centered on finding and developing the individual strengths of each member of the group. Often their guidance helped us to find talents within ourselves that we didn’t even know we had.

In particular I recall working in a school that had a less than sterling reputation. It was one of those places where people were reluctant to go. The employees were thought to be mediocre to bad. Public opinion of the place was abysmal. A new principal infused life into the place without hiring a single new person. His secret was quite simple. He made a point of providing each individual with special responsibilities based on their particular skills. He turned followers into leaders. He made former weaklings feel strong. Before long people were flocking to the school from all over town to see what miraculous things were happening, when in fact the only real change had been in how the system was run. The talent had always been there and this man was able to make it work.

There is a current trend to see the brash and boastful as the sort who should lead us. We tend to favor those who sling the most hurtful insults or fire the most people. We view arrogance as power, when the truth is that such individuals are actually harmful. They are the sorts who will leave us stranded and responsible for our own safety when danger lurks. They mouth caring platitudes, but when push comes to shove they are all in for themselves and toss us to our enemies.

Years ago my husband worked in a start up company created by a man who literally sucked the air out of any room that he entered. His focus was more on his own needs than those of the business and its employees. At the grand opening party I met his mother. She was a sweet lady who was nervous about the impression that she was making. She did not want to ruin the event for her son who was doing his best to avoid her. She confessed to me that he had only asked her to attend for the optics, otherwise she felt that she was somehow an embarrassment to him. At one point he walked over to her and stealthily suggested that she had been there long enough and needed to just go home before she messed up his big moment.

I remember thinking that he was a horrible man for treating his mother so poorly and I silently worried about my husband working for him. My forebodings were right on target. Within months the organization began to fall apart as the man slashed and burned the cohesion of the team. Eventually there was almost rebellion among the employees and my husband was among those who left in complete frustration. For all of his fanfare the arrogant boss ended up being all hat and no cattle. There was nothing behind his words other than his own insecurities which ultimately led to the business failing rather quickly.

Loyalty is rarely produced by intimidation. A great leader understands the importance of seeking a common purpose and using individual talents in that pursuit. When there is an atmosphere of respect and gratitude for each contribution people are eager to work for the cause whatever that may be. When we feel safe we are able to ascend to higher and higher levels of actualization. When we see that each person is valued we are willing to take risks to become more and more accomplished.

The downfall of organizations or governments can be traced again and again to a kind of megalomania that pits one person against another, breeding paranoia and unhinged competition. Enron had been a good place to work until Jeff Skilling unleashed an atmosphere of winning at all costs that lead to cut throat tactics and deceit. The mentality of firing the bottom fifth of producers each year created a chaos that encouraged lawlessness. In the end the employees were left for slaughter.

One of my former students has started a very successful business. I have noticed with pleasure how often he gives credit to his employees and demonstrates his gratitude for their hard work. He understands that his job is to be the leader by following behind and taking care of the team.

There are entire educational programs designed to teach individuals how to to manage organizations. A great deal of social science has been dedicated to researching teamwork and leadership. The one thing that all conclusions have in common is the realization that working together in a spirit of mutual respect is critical, and it is the leader who makes or breaks the system. If we want to drain the swamp of any group that is not working, we must first find a leader who is willing to work with the group.

The Time Of My Life

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

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It is amazing how we have certain memories that are so pleasant that the mere thought of them brings smiles to our faces. They are not always of the most remarkable events like a wedding or the birth of a child. Sometimes they are actually quite simple, like the smell of newly mown grass in the summer or the twinkle of lights on a Christmas tree. As I approach my seventieth year I have more than my share of satisfying remembrances, but few turn up the corners of my mouth into an unabashed grin more readily than the time that I shared a ride in a limousine with a group of young boys.

Schools never seem to have enough funds to do the things that they want to do, so they invariably enlist the students to raise some extra money. Such was true when I was teaching seventh grade mathematics at South Houston Intermediate. Each year the kids received brochures filled with enticing photos of candy, wrapping paper, and trinkets that they were encouraged to sell to family and friends. Those who sold the most received opportunities to enter a money machine to nab dollar bills as they floated through the air, but the grand prize was an afternoon riding around town in a limo. It was a highly coveted prize and the winner would be allowed to invite a few friends to go along. Not only would there be transportation, but also funds for food and entrainment. It provided strong motivation for the students to sell, sell, sell.

At the end of one campaign a student of mine was declared the winner. He was a sweet, bright and exceedingly well behaved young man so I was delighted that he would be treated to so much fun. It was soon apparent, however, that he had a very real problem. He had to have a parent chaperone the event and both his mother and father were not able to leave their jobs to do so. It looked as though the poor lad was going to lose his prize until he learned that if one of his teachers agreed to accompany the group all would be fine. That’s when he came to me requesting that I join him and his guests. His invitation was polite and almost impossible to refuse, and so I found myself piling into a gorgeous stretch limo one afternoon without knowing what the itinerary would be.

I drew a sigh of relief when I saw the others who would accompany us on the adventure. They were all rather delightful young men whom I knew well. I doubted that I would have any kind of trouble with them and that proved to be true. I then learned that our first stop would be a small game and go kart center located near the school. It was a very good choice of venue because the boys were occupied with rides for hours. I sat and enjoyed the solitude and people watching while they had a ball.

Next on the agenda was dinner at Sonic. The boys were laughing hysterically at the thought of driving up in a limousine to order burgers and hot dogs. They pre-arranged a storyline with me and the chauffeur that we were to recite, namely that one of the young men was a child star who was filming in Houston and wanted to take a break with his costars for a bit to eat. I was the nanny in charge of the group’s safety, care and education during the shooting of the movie. We were not at liberty to provide any more information than that lest the kids be endangered. Hilariously the waitress fell for the fib hook line and sinker while the boys roared with unmitigated joy as they watched people pointing at the big black car as though a real celebrity was on the premises.

The impishness didn’t end there. The final touch came when the chauffeur rolled down his window and spoke into the speaker with his most refined voice, “Pardon me, do you have any Grey Poupon?” By then the car was literally swaying from the rolling around caused by the youngsters’ laughter. Even the driver and I were chuckling with unrestrained glee.

Once we had eaten we had just enough time left to visit a comic book store. I stood guard as the students browsed through the bins and selected a few items to purchase with money they had brought in case such an occasion arose. As they shopped the owner of the establishment quietly inquired about the identity of his customers. By then I was all in for my designated role and was exceedingly coy at first. Eventually I explained that one of the young men was an actor and I was his nanny. I revealed that we were out on the town after a long day of filming so that the kids might unwind just a bit. I whispered that I was not at liberty to provide any more information than that and the shopkeeper nodded with respect.

As the kids were paying for their purchases the boy who had won the prize looked at me and said, “Nanny, here’s some money to buy yourself a lottery ticket. It appears that there is a drawing tonight. Maybe you will win and be able to enjoy life more. Go ahead. Buy a ticket.”

Then he looked at the man behind the counter and smiled, “She is such a good woman. It would be nice for her to learn what it is like to be rich like me.”  With a straight face I gathered the boys together and we piled back into the limousine barely able to contain ourselves from laughing before we were once again out of sight. 

We chattered all the way back to the school as though we had just experienced something rather remarkable, and in a way I suppose we had. I truly can’t recall too many times when I had more fun. I would often think about those boys and their leader who had brought us all together and wonder how their lives had been. Then one day I found the young man who had made it all happen on Facebook and learned that he had become a teacher in an intermediate school. It was good to know that things had turned out well for him because he had given me the time of my life on that long ago day. 

If Only We Had Tried Harder

Published on by Sharron BurnettLeave a comment

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I’m a student of human nature. I watch people all of the time, even when I’m at the gym. My mother used to correct me for staring when I was a child. I suppose that I become so interested in observing that I sometimes forget how invasive my glances may appear to be. My interest in people watching worked well when I was a teacher because as anyone who has been in charge of a group of youngsters knows, it is potentially lethal to look away for even a second. Thus my skills in noting the goings on around me worked fairly well although there were always sly individuals who snuck past my notice.

I am particularly fascinated by criminal activities. Mysteries have always been my favorite kinds of books and true crime has the power of fully engaging my thoughts. The television programs and movies that I enjoy the most are those involving investigations of murders and such. I suppose that I might have been a good candidate for the FBI or even the CIA. I wouldn’t want to be the person working in the streets to prevent crime, but rather someone who does the detective work after the fact. Mostly I am the kind of person who wants to know what causes an individual to act beyond the confines of normal law abiding behavior. I wonder what circumstances lead to violence and murder, and more importantly whether there is a critical moment at which such tendencies might be noted and deactivated.

I believe that we only know a fraction of what goes on in the human brain. Somehow illnesses and dysfunctions breed there just as they do in other parts of the body. We have yet to unlock all of the secrets of the mind or the impact of environmental factors on human behavior. We are certainly more advanced that in the past, but there is still so much to learn, and in those discoveries may lie the keys to helping the wretched souls who become monsters in our midst.

Unlike many who believe that we are born with the stain of sin and must be saved, I have always thought that we are the most innocent and pure as babies. It is in our future development that we become either good or bad people, and the complexity of how that process works is difficult to unravel. The chemistry and makeup of our brain, the ways in which we are raised, the events that befall us, the people with whom we come in contact and every little interaction with the world around us slowly molds our character and influences the ways in which we make choices and how we react to their consequences. Two people from the very same family will quite often be very different in spite of experiencing almost identical circumstances. So how are we to learn how to effectively build character, and how do we judge what the best practices for doing so should be?

I am quite troubled by the mixed messages that we send our young. On the one hand we want to eliminate the means of committing acts of violence by enacting laws restricting the use of guns, and at the same time we allow our teens to spend hours defending themselves with electronic arms on video games. The programs that stream into our homes are filled with murderous tales and some of them even provide a kind of hero status to characters whose actions are as questionable as the villains that they pursue. The line between good and evil is often so blurred that it is difficult to determine right from wrong without lengthy debates. We depict serial killers with a hint of sympathy and barely examine the lost lives of their victims. We no longer insist on a certain level of public decorum from those who lead us, and yet we wonder why so many children today are bullies. We see hypocrisy and lack of personal responsibility all around us and then shake our heads in disbelief when someone loses it and strikes out against complete strangers in murderous rage,

I heard an interview with a man on NPR the other day that was fascinating. He claims to have had violent urges from the time that he was only about five years old. He was continually in trouble during his school days and became known as a troubled child. Somehow he managed to turn things around in high school and landed an appointment at West Point but he still felt those horrific urges in his mind. While at the academy he met a teacher who spoke of the role of the military in striving for peace rather than automatically opting for war. The professor taught the students the skills of finding a place of calm inside their own minds so that their reactions would be reasoned and calm even in times of great stress. This concept changed the direction of the young recruit’s life. He became a disciple of such thinking and made it his vocation to study ways to tame the beasts that seemed to lurk inside his mind. He devotes his career to helping others to find the peace of mind that he now possesses. He truly believes that given the right situation it is totally possible to help many violent people to set aside their aggressive tendencies.

As a teacher I encountered many children who were so troubled that they had been designated as special needs students with emotional disturbances. They would often act out with little provocation or warning. Their behaviors were sometimes frightening. It was heartbreaking to see their pain and suffering and not have enough time or training to really help them. They were often relegated to self contained groups under the direction of someone who did little more than keep them from hurting themselves or others. It felt as though their lives had already been defined.

I took a special interest in such young people. I desperately wanted to make a difference in their lives. Most of the time they would indeed improve while they were in my class, but ultimately they had to move to the next grade and I would not see them again. I would hear of egregious acts that they had performed. I would grieve for them, and consider better ways of working with them. Only once did I feel that I might have actually changed the direction of such a student’s life. He was someone with anger management issues who was generally a sweet soul, but when something set him off he became enraged and dangerous. I managed his behavior quite well. I began to sense when his frustrations were overwhelming him and I created safe spaces where he would go to unwind, He seemed to be improving as long as he was with me, but when he went to other classrooms he often lost his composure and found himself in trouble. 

Each summer San Jacinto Junior College offered a special math/science program for students who wanted to enrich their knowledge of those subjects. The college sent me applications and urged me to encourage my students to try for the limited number of spots. Interested parties had to write essays describing why they should be chosen and most of those papers were so similar in content that the selection came down to a lottery. I would allow anyone who was interested to apply, but I was somewhat concerned when my behaviorally challenged student turned in his forms and written work with great earnestness. When I read his composition I believed that he would win the competition because it was profoundly moving. Indeed he landed a spot over many of my most brilliant students. When the other teachers heard about this they urged me to ask him to withdraw lest he embarrass the school with one of his outbursts. I decided that it was more important to let him have the opportunity to do something positive.

I found out that the young man didn’t have a way to get to the daily classes at the college and so I agreed to take him. I picked him up early each day and for four weeks drove him back and forth from the college which was about a forty minute drive. During that time we talked about so many things, but mostly about how excited he was to be thought of as someone who was good and worthy. He confided that the instructors and the other kids at the program thought he was smart and good natured and so for a few hours each day that’s who he was determined to be.

The program continued all the way through the young man’s high school years and even included special events. Each time he had an event to attend I was his chauffeur. We became the best of friends during those rides and I watched him grow into a truly remarkable person over the next four years. He laughed at the idea that nobody ever knew that he was actually a bad boy, or had been deemed one at his regular school. He assumed the role of a studious and well behaved young man and soon realized that it wasn’t that difficult to be that way all of the time. His life began to change in very dramatic ways.

I was sad when I no longer had to drive him to his classes. We said our farewells and he gave me a lovely gift that I still treasure. Each time I look at it I think of how easy it was to make a difference. I still find myself wondering how many more might have been saved if only we had tried harder.