By Tracey

When I was an exchange student in South Africa, 20 years ago, I entered an education system unlike any I had ever encountered.  To be fair, I had only encountered one at the time – that of the United States.  But, I was a Navy brat and that brought with it the experience of moving around the country to some degree.  My kindergarten through eleventh grade education included public schools in Wisconsin, (You’re right, that was pre-Navy brat life.) Washington, and Hawaii.  All were very different from each other.  In fourth grade, Mrs. Velacich taught a fascinating unit about the Bushmen.  I was so enthralled with their culture and way of living; to this day I’ve never forgotten it.  In fifth grade, Mr. Huff showed The Blue and the Gray, a long TV mini-series set during the Civil War. In seventh grade I copied lengthy epic poems off the board for reasons I’m still not sure of while Mr. E read car magazines in the back of the classroom.  In high school I studied myths and wrote my own to explain the world.  I still remember putting Teddy Ruxpin at the center of the universe, creator of all living things.  I also served on the prosecution as we tried King Charles I for high treason. 

Overall, I was pretty lucky with my education.  Apart from my seventh grade English teacher, I mostly had great teachers and came away with a well-rounded education.  Today, I attribute this to luck.  I don’t think I would have learned about the Bushmen if I had gone to the other elementary school across town.  It’s not like the study of Bushmen falls squarely in fourth grade core curriculum.  But, I’m sure I would have learned about something else, and developed my reading and writing skills through another equally interesting topic of study.  I hope.  I suppose that depended on the teacher.

When I entered my senior year as an exchange student, clad in a yellow and black striped school uniform, I learned along with all the other white students of South Africa.  (Yes, this was during Apartheid- that’s another story.)  Their school system was modeled after that of the British.  By the twelfth grade, everyone is preparing to take the state test to matriculate.  It is THE most important and stressful test for which everything in your future is determined.  It is the epitome of high stakes testing, for a student.  It was interesting for me to watch how this affected the way my teachers taught.  They were always stressed about not keeping pace.  There was a plan of what content would be covered that I was completely unaware of until I enrolled in a South African school.  I learned that if I had gone to another school, anywhere in the country, and taken the same class, I’d be learning the same content from the same books, at exactly the same time.  Even at the age of 17, with no intention of becoming a teacher, I remember thinking how strange that was.  I was so used to learning through my teachers’ unique passions, I tried to imagine all the students of the United States taking on King Charles I in the eleventh grade.  Somehow, I knew my experience was unique. 

I have vivid memories of the notebooks the students carried with them to their classes.  They are the closest things I’ve seen to a modern day illuminated manuscript.  Accompanying these notebooks was the essential pencil bags filled with a collection of colored pencils and pens for underlining important terms.  Pick up any student’s notebook, and they’re all identical.  It was something I never learned how to do while I was there – take notes the South African way, with special indents, colored underlines for specific reasons, definitions, charts, page numbers, etc.  This was the tool they would use to prepare for the exam.  Their notebooks were their only hope to passing the test.  And if they didn’t get the notes from a class on a particular day, they would borrow each other’s notebooks to copy down the notes, so that at least they had the right information to study for the test.

It was rare when students asked questions that delved deeper than the content presented or didn’t seek clarification.  I remember once after a science experiment was demonstrated before us at the front of the room and someone asked a question that looked for deeper understanding.  The teacher beamed, happy a student was thinking.  She answered the question, but prefaced it with, “You won’t need to know this for the test.”  I heard this phrase on occasion during my year there, and the most interesting thing about hearing it was what followed.  Everyone sat up, took a breath, and put down their pencils and colored pens.  They looked up from their notebooks.  For just that moment, the room relaxed, just a little. 

I’m remembering this experience 20 years later, after discovering what the word “collaboration” means in my school.  I didn’t realize this until fairly recently.  Collaboration means that on my team of fifth grade teachers, we are all teaching the exact same thing on the same day in the same way.  Our district has been working to develop frameworks both in math and reading.  I now have three new big binders I consult frequently.  For the most part, I like them.  I like that they have clear learning objectives, with a scope and sequence that’s easy to follow.  I don’t have to work as hard developing my own plan based on the state standards.  My biggest complaint about them is they don’t integrate the reading and math skills with other content areas.  But, I can do that.  I’m happy to locate the resources and teach the learning goals through our study of microorganisms and life in the American colonies.  How else am I going to ensure my students learn science and social studies?

This concern is one that is also shared by my other colleagues.  And for many of our team meetings, we discuss how we will teach concepts outlined in the district’s frameworks.  We share how our math lessons went, after they were taught.  We discuss plans for teaching future lessons.  We even look at our students’ performance on tests and assignments, examine data, and set goals together.  I thought we were collaborating.  It turns out we’re not, according to the evidence drawn from peeking into all three of our classrooms on any given day.  We’re not all teaching the same thing, on the same day, in the same way. 

When did that become the expectation?  Our principal shared with us the example of the second grade team, and how successful they’ve been in developing all their lessons together.  When do you find the time to plan all your lessons together?  And doesn’t a good teacher plan lessons based on her unique students?  Well, that’s another new development.  I just inherited fifty new students – the classes of my two colleagues.  Together, they’re all our students.

I’m all for collaborating.  I love getting ideas from my colleagues.  They’re smart people and our skills really do compliment each other.   But where does research say that students learn better if the lessons taught are the same next door and across the hall?  I’m not saying that we should go back to the days of my K-11 education where I learned random content inspired by the unique passions and interests of my teachers.  I've always believed in common learning outcomes, or standards, while allowing for the creativity of a teacher’s approach to how those outcomes are achieved. 

Both my colleagues gave up on the microorganism unit long ago.  They taught the first four lessons and sent their kits back.  Deep down, I was a little disappointed. Yes, the kit isn’t the greatest.  But, there’s so much you can do with it.  And, I had plans to do it all.  Our schedules were so busy with other agenda items; we never made time to discuss science integration.  So, if we’re “collaborating” does that mean I should have sent my kit back, too?  And what happens with technology integration and my use of iPod Touches?  Do I give that up because my colleagues didn’t get a grant to buy them?  How, exactly, are we suppose to “collaborate” if we are all skilled in different areas?  Where did this notion of identical instruction come from?

As education reform yields its true colors from the mouths of policy makers to the practical level in my classroom, I’m left with a lot of questions.  Is this really “school improvement?”  How does identical instruction improve student learning?  When I think of the teachers I admire most, the ones that any school would be thrilled to have on staff, they’re all innovative and creative.  Where does innovation and creativity fit in with identical instruction?  It doesn’t.  To do that would require hours and hours of meeting time – time we don’t have.  So, why do we claim to want exceptional teachers, when what schools really want are teachers that follow direction and blend in?  Taking away opportunities for us to be creative is just one more reason we’re feeling demoralized.  And you know what happens to good teachers who feel that way?  They find something else to do.