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| Look: a Greek temple of knowledge. Somehow Socrates, Plato and Aristotle all managed without Common Core Curriculum. |
WE VISIT A TYPICAL AMERICAN CLASSROOM in the not too distant future:
April 1, 2020: Two highly paid consultants, one from Wireless Generation, a leading company in the sale of education software, the other from Pearson, a major player in the giant testing industry, are sitting in on John Galt’s seventh grade American history class. Neither one has ever taught but they are here to assess how new technology, guaranteed to boost standardized test scores, is functioning. Did we just say, “Boost test scores?”
We meant, “To enhance true learning.”
Several surveillance cameras, all set to follow Galt’s every move, are running in the room. This is part of the push to improve schools by focusing entirely on teachers. Because, let’s face it. The only person who matters in the room is the teacher.
That’s what leading education reformers say.
In this classroom every child has his or her own computer—purchased at great expense from Amplify, a division of Wireless Generation. (Corporate Philosophy of Education: No Dollar Left Behind.) Galt and all his students are hooked to electrodes. Today, the class is trying to hold a discussion about the battle for women’s rights in the 1800s.
“Mr. Galt,” a student named Dagney inquires, “I’ve been wondering. Who were the leaders in the fight for equality?”
“One would be Susan B. Anthony,” Galt responds gingerly. He consults his computer to be sure she is specifically mentioned in the Common Core Curriculum. She is. “Susan B. Anthony may be on the new standardized tests being designed right now. The other leader, who will not be on the test, would be Eliza…” Before he can finish his sentence the electrodes attached to his scalp deliver a powerful shock. The smell of singed hair fills the room.
(He was going to say: “Elizabeth Cady Stanton.”)
Every student receives a flashing red warning on their computer screen: DANGER! MATERIAL NOT INCLUDED ON STANDARDIZED TEST! DANGER! A voice similar to HAL, the deranged computer in 2001: A Space Odyssey, delivers the message verbally, as well.
Joaquin, seated in the desk closest to the door, waits for Galt to recover. He raises a hand to add to the discussion. “I can’t understand why women weren’t granted equal rights when the U. S. Constitution was first written. My grandmother once told...”
That boy should have known better! A loud buzzing noise, followed by Joaquin’s spastic jerking, and another computer warning, teaches Joaquin and all his curious classmates an important lesson. If it can’t be tested…it isn’t education.
Carolyn wants to know: “What year did women finally win the right to vote?” ZAPPPPPP. Another shock for a foolish student. Again, computers flash the warning: DANGER! MATERIAL NOT INCLUDED ON STANDARDIZED TEST! DANGER!
Galt wants to answer. He wants to say “1920,” and note that his mother was in kindergarten by the time men got around to giving women the vote. He wants to say to the girls in the room, “Just think. In all the long centuries of human history the dumbest man walking the face of the earth had more rights than any female on the face of the globe.” Galt used to use this line—before Common Core—and remembers how it always riled up the ladies in class and got them interested. Now he knows if it’s not on the test it doesn’t matter. Considering that Ohio enacted laws in 2013 to tie teacher pay to test scores, maybe it’s all for the best.
Still, he’s a professional. He wants his kids to learn. “It wasn’t just women who couldn’t vote. Poor white men…”
That’s as far as he gets. Another shock is administered and Galt jumps where he stands like a fish on an electrified line.
He’s a stubborn man where learning is involved. He tries again, disguising his reply: “No vote. Pale skin. Poor…” ZAPPPPPP. The computer gets wise to what he’s doing and delivers a fresh jolt.
The consultant from Pearson makes a note: “May need to increase voltage.”
Perhaps in his confusion, Galt forgets where he is, in a modern U. S. classroom, with all the reforms of recent years welded into place. He forgets he’s expected to follow a script. He is going to tell students that in the summer of 1964, Congress debated a massive civil rights bill designed to guarantee equal treatment to people of all colors, religions, and ethnic backgrounds. He is going to explain that Representative Howard W. Smith from Virginia stepped forward to block the legislation. Smith feared a world in which blacks might win equal rights. So Smith devised a clever ruse to derail the bill. He suggested on the floor of the House that the word “sex” be added to the bill. Surely, no sane person could vote for a bill which granted equal rights to blacks and women!
Yet they did.
Galt is going to tell this story because he thinks it reveals the ludicrous nature of prejudice in all its forms. He tries to get it out by talking fast—telling the story at preternatural speed—and the cameras and electrodes and the computer are baffled for precious seconds. He gets in “summer of 1964” and “Howard W. Smith” but when he mentions the word “sex” the system catches up and gives him a stunning jolt.
When the smoke around his head finally clears he sees a brave young man in the front row put up a hand. He wants to ask a question about gay marriage and discrimination. But he decides it’s not worth the risk and lowers his hand.
Galt tells the class he needs to sit a moment and regain his wits. He consults his own materials, prepared over the course of his forty-five years in front of a class, and tries to figure out what he’s really allowed to cover. He has a lengthy reading prepared on the fight for women’s rights—but he realizes that on a standardized test there won’t be more than a single question on this topic. Should he then include extra material? If his classes learn—but what they learn isn’t tested—does that still count as learning?
IF SOMEONE ASKS A QUESTION IN THE FOREST and the tree falls on his head and no one hears the answer does it matter? Isn’t that how the riddle goes?
Maybe there’s still some way to slip this reading past the censors. He knows that students have always found it interesting. It reads in part:
The ideal woman [in the 1800s] was a wife and mother. And wives must be content within this sphere. One expert on women—a man, of course—argued that bed-making was “good exercise.” He continued: “There is more to be learned about pouring out tea and coffee than most young ladies are willing to believe.”
“A woman is a nobody,” one newspaper commented. “A wife is everything.”
The handout continues in the same way for several pages. One writer compared men to elm trees and women to ivy vines, needing a man to lean on for support. Of course, a husband controlled all property, including a wife's paycheck (if any). Should the couple divorce he gained automatic custody of any children. Judges also upheld the right of husbands to beat their wives for nagging and various other faults. A Massachusetts judge, however, did order that the man not use a stick any bigger around than his thumb.
At this point—in an era before standardized everything, standardized tests, standardized texts, and standardized humanity—Galt would have illustrated the point by picking up his pointer and whipping it through the air. The “whooshing” noise would make it clear how much damage a rod of such thickness could do.
Now, Galt knows better. Too much depth. Depth has nothing to do with Common Core Curriculum. Depth of knowledge can’t be tested.
Then Galt thinks about all the damage the fools who claim to be fixing education have done and it makes him angry to the core. (Irony intended.) Like all good teachers, he has dedicated himself to imparting as much knowledge as he possibly can. He is determined to broaden today’s discussion. He will tell his classes how bad it was for women in this country even in the 1960s and 70s. He will explain how his old high school tried to start a girl’s track team in 1967, and how everyone thought the idea was absurd. Only two girls showed up to try out. Galt will emphasize how much attitudes—what we think we can do and what we think we cannot do—shape our lives. He believes this is a lesson he can impart to students. He feels it in his bones. He feels the lesson matters.
They will discuss the idea that women were once considered too delicate to run long distances. He will throw out the example of Paula Radcliffe, who set the record for women in 2003, running the London Marathon in 2 hours and 15 minutes, a pace of 5:10 per mile.
He thinks he can plant a seed, hint to all the girls that they should take on any challenge…and Galt will make it clear the same attitude equally applies to boys.
“When I was in high school,” he begins.
ZAAAAP.
“They said girls were too weak…”
ZAAAAAAAAAAP!
“Paula Radcliffe…”
ZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!
Student computers are blinking wildly: DANGER! NON-STANDARDIZED LEARNING! EVILTEACH! BADEDUCATOR! HORRORKNOWLEDGE! ACADEMICKILL! DANGER! DANGER! LEARNING DOES NOT COMPUTE!
Galt is lying on the floor. He looks bad. He raises his head slightly and gasps: “Women…marathon…”
ZZZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!
The consultants shoot each other knowing looks. The Pearson rep makes a note to include one question on the standardized test about Susan B. Anthony. After all, you want the tests to align with the Common Core Curriculum.
Oh hell, who cares! Pearson is making hundreds of millions of dollars designing more and more standardized tests.
The consultant from Amplify is happy too. Galt is out cold. Now the kids have no choice but to rely on their computers for some warm student-machine interaction.
It’s U. S. education for the future.
ZAAAAAAAAAAP!
“Paula Radcliffe…”
ZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!
Student computers are blinking wildly: DANGER! NON-STANDARDIZED LEARNING! EVILTEACH! BADEDUCATOR! HORRORKNOWLEDGE! ACADEMICKILL! DANGER! DANGER! LEARNING DOES NOT COMPUTE!
Galt is lying on the floor. He looks bad. He raises his head slightly and gasps: “Women…marathon…”
ZZZAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!
The consultants shoot each other knowing looks. The Pearson rep makes a note to include one question on the standardized test about Susan B. Anthony. After all, you want the tests to align with the Common Core Curriculum.
Oh hell, who cares! Pearson is making hundreds of millions of dollars designing more and more standardized tests.
The consultant from Amplify is happy too. Galt is out cold. Now the kids have no choice but to rely on their computers for some warm student-machine interaction.
It’s U. S. education for the future.
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| Somehow this image seems more fitting when we talk about school reform today. |











