No Standard Children

My students always have a hard time writing criticism. The first complaint is that they don’t know enough; that’s not true, of course. They have the assignment, to start, which they can use as criteria. That’s plenty of material in itself, but they also have their own sense of language. It may be difficult to articulate your tastes in writing, but that’s the point. The more you struggle to put things into words, the more you will improve as a writer and a thinker.

Once I get them over that hurdle—sometimes before—their next complaint is that they don’t want to be negative. They want to affirm what’s right as well as explain what’s wrong. The practical-minded curmudgeon in me resists that idea—affirmation is both unnecessary and often unhelpful. In the spirit of compromise, though, I often tell them to affirm first, briefly, and then get on to the criticism. More generally, too, I understand that relentless criticism can be bracing at best and often dispiriting.

In the resisting the curmudgeon spirit, I was happy to read this summary of the proposed changes to No Child Left Behind; a measure often known more simply as No Child left (“Obama to Seek Sweeping Change in ‘No Child’ Law“). Suffice to say that NCLB was a brutal attack on working people and their children. The best part of the proposed changes, to my way of thinking, is the possibility that the new program will embrace what’s called the “Common Core State Standards Initiative.”

The writing standards, in particularly, are refreshingly rich, the opposite of a standardized test. It’s easy to imagine a college admissions process founded in these standards. Teachers, perhaps with the help of students and parents, could create non-reductive narrative assessments. Admission officials, then, with the help of professor’s and staff, could use these narratives to compile diverse freshman classes. It wouldn’t be perfect but it would be a huge improvement.

Privileged Suffering

There’s a famous passage in the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy in which a planet-sized computer, tasked with finding “the meaning of life” finally reports its results after hundreds of years of analysis. The answer, it says, is 42. That’s my feeling about grades, they provide an absurdly simple answer to very complicated questions. You feel like something happened, but in fact nothing happened. Still, as this story about grade inflation at Princeton shows (“Type-A-Plus Students Chafe at Grade Deflation“), just because something is totally absurd, doesn’t mean it can’t have efficacy in the world.

I’m never sure what grade inflation really means, in the end, but at Princeton they have apparently brought it under control, reducing the total number of A students from 50% to 40%. The problem, apparently, is that no other schools have followed suit. This means, as a student reports, the possible “nightmare scenario, if you will, is that you apply with a 3.5 from Princeton and someone just as smart as you applies with a 3.8 from Yale.” I suppose it’s true that in a highly competitive environment that .3 would make a big difference, if you define ”a big difference” as settling for Standford when you wanted M.I.T.

Despite the right-wing’s ongoing paranoia about college students, I think this reflects the profound conservatism of most undergraduates. (the 60s were a rare exception.) As Doug Henwood said recently (talking about health care reform), American culture is rooted in traditional notions of rugged individualism; these exercises in meritocratic-hair-splitting are one of the best illustrations I’ve seen recently. Education is (or should be) a collective enterprise, and it’s a shame we can’t bring ourselves to adopt forms of learning assessment that don’t generate these bizarre competitions.

Thinking Conservative

I have to say that I am always extremely skeptical of the idea that the university– or professors– are somehow more liberal than society at large (“Professor is a Label that Leans to the Left“). Universities are broader than the liberal arts, and if you have spent any time in administrative meetings and business (or economics departments) you know that conservatism is the norm rather than the exception. It depends on how you define “liberal” too.

Academia has witnessed the wholesale destruction of its former status as a full-time, tenured profession without much more than a collective peep of protest. The academic administrators who dismantled the traditional system are not liberal. There’s nothing liberal in the rising cost of education. The university system is not particularly democratic, either. At the top of the hierarchy, too, are very well paid administrators and even professors not likely to challenge the status quo.

I think this idea has to do with some very general and misleading ideas about what “left” or liberal might mean. (You can the essay noted by the NYT, here.) One major quality of this so-called liberalism is secularism and tolerance. Do we really need religious intolerance in university classrooms? What’s the opposite of a respect for diversity? A respect for limited exposure to people who might think and talk differently than you and your family?

If you think through the evidence supporting evolution (and you understand what the word theory does and does not mean) you will find the idea of teaching creationism as a equally valid scientific theory profoundly insulting. Does that make you a liberal or does that simply mean that you are open to the processes of evaluating scientific validity? Does anti-intellectualism need to be represented in the classroom as a corrective to reason itself?

A Little Taste of Class

Recent news about the University of Illinois furlough program shows a touch of class in two senses (Illinois Education Association, “In the News, Jan. 5“). It’s great that Governor Quinn excused workers who earn less than $30,000; it also shows that the public can only handle the tiniest little whiff of the class hierarchy. Or, at least, that our so-called populist governor doesn’t feel he can get away with much populism at all.

It’s too bad that the higher paid administartion and faculty– say, those making over $90,000– aren’t taking an active stand on the inequities of the current fiscal crisis. Almost across the board it’s students and low paid staff that are taking the biggest hit. It’s true, of course, that this is in the end a political problem– a kind of deadlock between the governor and the legislature over funding, particularly over the state income tax– and no none should have to sacrifice much of anything.

Still, wouldn’t be great– a refreshing touch of class– if a few very highly paid administrators, or faculty, or even a coach, got together and called for a salary freeze above a certain level as well as a process that would address the huge gaps between the best and the worst paid in Illinois education. So far the crisis seems to have only created an opportunity for the well off to consolidate their positions via these ‘we all share the sacrifice’ initiatives. It’d be great to see a few privileged academics do more.