Don't Think of an Elephant Initial Response

I have just begun reading the illuminating book Don't Think of an Elephant. Published in 2004, it is a brief explanation for progressives about how conservatives shape political debate using language. By effectively controlling the language, conservatives have been able to effectively frame political debate to their advantage.

The author, George Lakoff, explains that both conservative and progressive thought grow out of a family model. Conservatives' model is an authoritarian father-figure. Progressives' model is a nurturing parent. This is extremely beneficial to understanding the other side's point of view. I have been grappling with understanding why people will vote Republican when it is not in their financial best interests. This book addresses that question very clearly.

I am certainly a progressive. I recognize my most cherished values in Lakoff's sketch of progressive beliefs. Career-wise, the value driving me the most is opportunity, closely followed by fairness. I can see that my outrage about poor public education centers around a lack of opportunity for those children who do not have access to any better education than their failing public school. This is simply not fair, I reason, because they can never be as well off as those with a better education, no matter how hard they work.

These children could be of any race, but they are almost always poor. Lakoff identifies several types of progressive, and I see myself in the type he calls Socioeconomic Progressive, who view problems in terms of class and economics. I cannot ignore that I am a mixed-race person who was raised to cherish the progress gained during the Civil Rights Movement, so I was taught a lot of identity politics (another progressive type). However, class and economics speak more strongly to me. My white mother is from a poor-er family than my black father. Growing up I concluded, somewhere along the way, that if you're poor you need help regardless of skin color.

It seems that my next step is to figure out how conservatives frame debates related to education. I was discussing the evolution/creationism "debate" with friends when they recommended Lakoff's book. So maybe that topic is a good jumping off place. The role of strict father in creationism is pretty clear: the all-knowing, infallible God. For further study, Lakoff has several other more academic books I would benefit from reading.

Then there's finishing up my tour of education political philosophy. Phew! I'm behind "schedule" on that, but cutting myself slack because we're moving.

"Should We Burn Babar?" Response

"Should We Burn Babar?" is the first essay in a book of the same title. The Babar books are well-loved children's classics about an adorable elephant. They also happen to be loaded with colonialism and racism. And probably a few other nasty isms. What are we to do with a book like this, as thinking parents and educators?

The author, Herbert Kohl, concludes that Babar should be read critically, with adult guidance, and otherwise be relegated to a museum shelf for historical oddities. I essentially agree with him. Upon rereading as an adult, I was similarly disturbed by the colonial messages in Curious George. Let's all agree to stop sending white characters to the jungle to civilize monkeys and elephants, okay?

Kohl is careful to avoid advocating censorship and encourages his reader to help children develop critical attitudes towards their books and toys. I can imagine reading Babar with my daughter as part of a history lesson on French colonialism.

Moving from Babar to Barbie, Kohl explains that though troubled by all they represent he and his wife allowed their daughters to have Barbie dolls. He encouraged them to be played with in a variety of creative ways, and modeled respect for women. The girls grew up to be feminists, undamaged by Barbie dolls, and they tell their father that their home environment helped them understand that Barbies are nothing like real women.

Then Kohl explains that he draws the line at G.I. Joe toys, because they teach children that war is play. It was the 1970s, he and his wife were protesting the Vietnam War, and they explained that those toys represented the worst in people. It "worked," the kids never wanted the toys, and they grew up to be pacifists. That's all well and good, and I'm not a huge fan of war. However, we have access to more subtle ideas about war and soldiers, just like the variety of ways to play with Barbie dolls. You can protest a war and respect a soldier. G.I. Joe can provide humanitarian aid. We are all products of our time, but what this passage boiled down to is Kohl being more disturbed by war (G.I. Joe) than he is by sexism (Barbie). He's entitled to that, but I was irked by the break from, "teach kids to think for themselves" in favor of "I raised my kids to believe what I believe, and now they do, yay!"

On the whole, the essay was very thoughtful and nuanced. While criticizing every aspect of Babar, Kohl acknowledges the charm of the story and its illustrations. He retells how much he loved them as a child. I appreciate his honesty, because I remember my horror when my mother pointed out the problems with this story. There is a loss of innocence involved. Kohl provides many ideas to discuss with our children and students, and I will return to this essay if and when I am reading Babar to children.

Notes on Book X of Nicomachean Ethics

I am currently reading Philosophical Documents in Education, which is an anthology containing excerpts from, well, philosophical documents about education. My goal is to read one chapter per day. The chapters are not too long, so I think this is a reasonable goal for a busy mother to a small child.

Today's chapter contains excerpts from Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics. Because I am a perfectionist and also a little shy about the value of my thoughts, I think it is best to dash off a quick post about the lines that I found most striking.

Aristotle is discussing raising virtuous children, and encouraging adults to continue being virtuous through legislation. Then he says, "Now it is best that there should be a public and proper care for such matters; but if they are neglected by the community it would seem right for each man to help his children and friends towards virtue, and that they should have the power, or at least the will, to do this."

My thought is that the current state of many public schools deserves the description "neglected by the community." Even if a lot of attention is being paid to public education, the result has not been "proper care." In that situation, Aristotle says it would seem right for each man [or woman?] to help his children toward virtue. This is why I am oriented toward homeschool.

The next paragraph continues with, "It would seem from what has been said that he can do this better if he makes himself capable of legislating." This is, in part, why I want to pursue a degree in public policy. How better to effect change? I don't want to enter education policy for my children; I believe that I can see to their education. But all children deserve a better education than what is available to many of them now.

Aristotle goes on: "Further, private education has an advantage over public, as private medical treatment has; for while in general rest and abstinence from food are good for a man in a fever, for a particular man they may not be; and a boxer presumably does not prescribe the same style of fighting to all his pupils. It would seem, then, that the detail is worked out with more precision if the control is private; for each person is more likely to get what suits his case."

I am simply struck by the elegant argument in favor of individualized attention. To me personally, this is an argument in support of homeschooling. I don't know what the idea translates to in terms of broader policy. School choice? Smaller class sizes? Less standardization? More freedom for teachers to be creative?

Getting Me Talking: Inequality

This post is harder to write. I wrote my first blog post yesterday morning on Imperfect Homeschool. That was like chatting with a friend. This is like asking someone out on a date. I'm nervous; what will they think of me? Who am I to venture into the realm of education policy? I have almost no formal training in this area, just a passion. Researching, studying, or even shaping education policy is a career I'd like, not one I have. I want this blog to be a step toward that goal. Time to dive in.

Recently, I got all fired up talking with a close friend. She's into science policy, and I'm into education policy. Her actual Ph.D. (pending!) and actual trips to D.C. inspire and excite me. During our talk, I ranted about the unsportsmanlike way our education system works. We'd be ashamed if it were peewee sports. I believe I'm taking this sports analogy from Jonathan Kozol's The Shame of the Nation.

In my rant, I argued that if we actually improved education for everyone, there would be more viable competition for top college spots. Then maybe the mediocre student from a strong school district would get more college rejection letters. It's simple economics, right? If you are the parent of that mediocre student, what is your incentive to improve public education for everyone? When we fail to improve our worst public schools, students with access to private and decent public education benefit from reduced competition for colleges and jobs. Unfortunately, there are people with an interest in maintaining the status quo.

My friend then said it was important that I pointed this out to her. She hadn't previously thought of public education issues in these terms. She had imagined the varied and complex causes, but had not thought of the added dimension of people uninterested in changing a thing. Not just uninterested in change, but invested against it.

Well then. It looks like I do have something to contribute, don't I? Maybe a reader of this blog will come across a new idea. My plan is to teach myself* as much as possible about education in America and share what I learn here.

*Did I mention I value learning? ;)