February 2010 Archives

The folly of economics

Future historians will one day look back at our age and place economists in the same category as alchemists and phrenologists. Alchemists believed base metals could be turned into gold and phrenologists believed the shape and size of the human skull could predict personality traits. Today we laugh at such ideas, but once upon a time alchemists and phrenologists taught in some of the world's most venerated universities. The wisdom of these professors of higher learning was considered gospel by colleagues and an ignorant populace. But time heals all wounds. Soon an enlightened population realized that gold was a singular and immutable element and people with protruding foreheads and bushy eyebrows were not all criminals. Alchemists and phrenologists lost their lofty university positions and the world became a better place.

The study of economics was once a benign school of thought that did not try to extend its boundaries into the realm of the scientific method. Economists debated and promulgated a variety of theories concerning the production, development, and management of material wealth and wisely avoided the pitfalls of trying to apply algorithms and formulae to forecast pecuniary matters. Unfortunately too many economists eventually made the fateful leap from a theoretical school of thought to a school of applied science, and the unpredictable nature of depressions, recessions and the stock market forever doomed economics as a true science. People soon realized that economists were no better at predicting the prices of stocks and commodities than the neighborhood grocer. (Indeed, I would argue that my neighborhood grocer is far better at predicting spending trends than economists. She uses an algorithm based upon the monthly sales of chop meat and conversations with intuitive shoppers.)

But economists will not "go gentle into that good night." Some need to drag teachers along the creeping path of death.

According to a February 10th article written by William Gillespie in Business Lexington, Stanford University professor Eric Hanushek claims that identifying and replacing 6 percent of a school system's least effective teachers can turn around student performance and have a greater and more positive impact than any other expenditure designed to stimulate economic growth.

Wow.

So all this talk about capital and labor and gross domestic product has all been a sham? The key to a nation's economic prosperity can be found in a simple 6% solution? The implications are mind boggling. If President Hoover had identified and replaced six percent of our nation's least effective teachers in the autumn of 1929, the Great Depression could have been averted and the song Brother Can You Spare a Dime would never have reached the top of the pop charts.

I do not know how or why the Stanford professor arrived at a 6 percent formula, but I suspect he too was taking the fatal leap that has made economists the weathermen of academia. He wanted to legitimize his theory by applying a formula and a prediction. Sadly, the professor's suggestion is not a bold or novel idea. The Roman Army periodically practiced a form of military discipline called decimation. During troubled times, such as a battle loss or threat of mutiny, Roman officers killed 10 percent of their soldiers. This cleansing was believed to right a wrong and motivate the remaining soldiers.

Now teachers are the target of a contemporary decimation proposal; they are being sacrificed to right the wrongs of an errant economy and school system. How disgusting.

I have a better idea. Let's shelve the ridiculous and vindictive 6% solution and invite the good professor to teach in a present-day underfunded and overcrowded classroom. Let him teach for one year in an inner city or rural school in which students do not have family support systems or come to class with the appropriate level of preparedness needed to be successful. Let this theoretician become a clinician and then measure the annual results of his students. And let us not forget to offer this position under the condition that if he fails, it's off with his head.

Decimation is a dangerous game, but it is a quick means to place economists on the same shelf as alchemists and phrenologists.

*A special thank you to Nancy Flanagan for alerting me to this matter. Please read her recent blog Teacher in a Strange Land.

Posted by Anthony Mullen at 9:26 AM | Permalink | Leave a comment | Recommend

Buffalo, New York

Buffalo has no buffalo. Never did. Yet the image of this iconic North American animal is everywhere. I walk through the main corridor of the Buffalo Niagara International Airport and pass eateries and stores selling tee shirts, mugs, postcards and all sorts of souvenirs stamped with the image of a buffalo. I watch a mother buy a small buffalo stuffed animal for her son, and then glance at a photograph of a buffalo statue made to resemble Elvis. I expect to exit the airport and encounter a herd of buffalo.

The power of suggestion is very strong. Simply naming a city Buffalo suggests this majestic animal once roamed this beautiful region of Western New York. Don't believe me? Let's take a quiz:

The city of Buffalo is named after:

(A) A creek near Lake Erie.
(B) A homesteader named Joshua Buffalo.
(C) The animal that bears its name.
(D) A Canadian flower.

Most children (and adults) would probably select C. And they would be wrong.The suggestive name infers that buffalo (the animal) has something to do with Buffalo (the city) and therein lies the power of suggestion.But I wanted to test my conjecture on real people. And what better population to survey than unsuspecting college students?

Let's all take a trip to the local college.

I am now standing inside the Student Center of Buffalo State College. Soon I will be speaking with an audience of education majors, but now is the time to try a brief social experiment. The center is teeming with hungry and hurried students. I decide to use a sample population sitting idly near a beautiful water fountain.

A young lady is sitting cross-legged next to the tranquil fountain, watching people and sipping a cup of Starbucks coffee. "Excuse me," I said. "Do you know why the city of Buffalo is named Buffalo?"

She glanced at me, no doubt wondering why I had asked such a random question. "Because of all the buffalo that once lived here," she replied. "Am I right?"

I didn't consider the possibility that my query could be received as a right or wrong type question.

"No...but it's a good answer, "I replied. She shrugged her shoulders and continued to drink coffee.

A student sitting near the young lady was wearing a Buffalo Bills tee shirt. Perfect! His shirt was loudly displaying the image of a large buffalo. "Do you know why the city of Buffalo is named Buffalo?" I asked.

The young man asked me to repeat the question. I later learned that he was an exchange student from France. "It is...I believe...because one time many buffalo would be here," he answered. He looked at me for validation and the young lady waited for me to answer.

"No." I said. "But thanks for your help."

I approached two students who appeared to be a couple. "Excuse me," I said politely. "But I was wondering if either of you know why Buffalo is named Buffalo?

"What do you mean?" the female half of the pair asked.

"I'm trying to find out how or why the city of Buffalo is named Buffalo," I replied.

"That's easy," she said. "This area of New York once had a lot of buffalo before the Europeans and cowboys killed them all."

"She's right," added her male companion. "All the buffalo were killed and became extinct. The city is named in honor of all those dead animals."

The first student I questioned rejoined the conversation. "You see," she said, "Buffalo is named after buffaloes." She did not want to be proved wrong.

Suddenly I was confronted with another dimension of the power of suggestion-peer pressure. I think about how often one or more of my students answered a question incorrectly because they wanted to echo the response of another student. Students have a very strong inclination to conform to peer group standards and beliefs even when they know they are wrong. Why is that? Is it because the human mind is very susceptible to all sorts of untruths and misconceptions because our self-image is affected?

One of the most remarkable and potent examples of the power of suggestion is the placebo effect. Physicians and faith healers have known about this phenomenon for ages, but only recently has modern science been able to offer an explanation. When a doctor suggests to a patient that he is getting better, the patient's immune system sometimes kicks into overdrive and heals. The mind "commands" the body to heal itself. Sugar pills or syringes filled with water have been proven to cure many illnesses simply because the patient is convinced that he or she has is now an active player in the healing process.

How does this relate to teaching and learning? I believe all students have an innate ability to learn, but many are unable to fully access that ability because their negative self image and associated beliefs compromise their intellect. The power of suggestion seems to be part of human nature, and that is one reason why the college students agreed on a singular answer. And that is why I, too, would have believed the city of Buffalo is named after an animal had I not first researched this trivial fact. How many students are told at an early age that a particular subject, such as math or writing, is a "weakness" and consequently believe this to be true? What if we could somehow let these students know that a "weakness" is actually a "strength" waiting to be unleashed? Could teachers tap a reservoir of potential learning that is akin to our immune system?

The power of suggestion is one of the most powerful learning tools a teacher can possess, a tool that can improve the self-image of a child and consequently the student's ability to learn. How many teachers have used the power of suggestion to improve the success of a student?

I would enjoy reading and sharing your stories.

Posted by Anthony Mullen at 2:32 PM | Permalink | Leave a comment | Recommend

Dallas, Texas

I am alone on the 6th floor of the Texas Book Depository building in Dallas, Texas. A few days earlier I had walked in the footsteps of protesting students and Ohio National Guardsmen at Kent State University, and now I follow in the path of America's most infamous assassin, Lee Harvey Oswald. Visiting two historic crime scenes in less than one week appears to be the product of a morbid and perverse mind, but I am only following my travel schedule.

The Book Depository no longer stores books, but I calculate the number of books written about the JFK assassination could easily fill the spacious floors of this historic warehouse. Dallas County bought the building in 1977 and placed county offices on the first five floors. The top two floors of the warehouse, including the infamous sixth floor, remained empty until The Sixth Floor Museum opened in 1989. The museum contains artifacts and images concerning the JFK assassination, as well as a nice restaurant which happens to be on the seventh floor. I'm here tonight because I had the honor and pleasure to be invited to a dinner celebrating the 2010 state teachers of the year. I slipped away from the meal some time between the serving of macaroni and cheese and cupcakes, and walked down a flight of stairs to the sixth floor.

The air is stale and the lights are dim. The whitewashed brick walls and worn pine floors remain unaffected since Oswald's time, and suddenly the afternoon of November 22, 1963 does not seem so distant. I look around and try to determine which side of the building faces Dealey Plaza. I manage to find the correct wall in this square room on my fourth try. A sheet of Plexiglas shields the south east corner window. So this is where Oswald's cunning little brain created a makeshift sniper's nest? I look inside and see the windowsill where he placed his Mannlicher-Carcano rifle. A few boxes are placed near the window to mimic the original setting, but the boxes are new and look like props.

Lee Harvey Oswald was a failure at life. He was a high school dropout, couldn't hold a job, believed the Soviet Union was a workers paradise, abused his teenage bride, and was given a dishonorable discharge from the Marine Corps. The only skill he did have was a marksman's eye. He was rated a sharpshooter in the Marine Corps., a talent that would later change the course of American history.

Oswald allegedly fired the fatal shots that killed a beloved president from the windowsill before me. And I later learn that Oswald's rifle is stored at the National Archives, a place to preserve the grim reality of this tragic event. And then I think about another important archive right here in Dallas, an archive that stores hope and is trying to help at-risk students stay in school.

The MIDDLE SCHOOL ARCHIVE PROJECT is the brain child of Bill Betzen, a veteran Dallas teacher and social worker who believes a child's own story has the power to heal. Bill was angry and frustrated that more than half of all Dallas high school students were failing to graduate, so he decided that part of the solution to this endemic problem was to remind all students that they have a past, present, and future. Bill decided that an archive could be more than a place to store other people's relics and histories.

In Bill's words, "The most valuable possession any person has is their story, their history, the reasons they will be remembered.

All along the way the School Archive and "the letter" can be an opportunity for many priceless conversations with parents, teachers and classmates."

The simplicity of Bill's idea has proven to be a godsend to students most likely to leave school without a diploma. Children who desperately need a personal archive to set goals. All 32 high schools in Dallas are improving in their ability to keep students in school, and 11th and 12th grade enrollments have gone up 5% over the past four years. In real numbers, that's 758 upper class students who have earned a diploma.

But here's the real shocker: 55% of the 758 students came from only two of the 32 high school high schools-the two schools participating in the Middle School Archive Project.

How does it work? Let's listen to Bill: "The core of the School Archive Project is rather simple: a "re purposed" gun vault bolted to the floor in the middle school (or any school) lobby to function as a 10-year time-capsule leading toward a 10-year class reunion and mentoring experience with returning students speaking with decade younger students about their recommendations for success.

On this simple "backbone" you can hang many very valuable experiences or traditions. The 500-pound vault bolted to the school lobby floor, and the reality of the passing of time, help students to overcome the abstractions involved. Once the 10-year reunions start you will have that reality of 10-year older returning students. That will make things VERY real. That is what we are doing, working to be as realistic as is humanly possible. That helps eliminate the abstract issues involved."

History is full of "what if" scenarios that require a vivid imagination and the ability to warp time. The truly tragic moments in history are often the focus of this cerebral exercise because seminal events are caused more often by the actions of people than by nature or the hand of God. These are the type of people who emerge from relative obscurity and seek a world stage. Lee Harvey Oswald was one such person.

But "what if" Lee Harvey Oswald had met someone such as Bill Betzen and joined a Middle School Archive Project? "What if" Oswald had wrote down his future hopes and dreams on a letter and deposited it in one of Bill's gun vaults? "What if" Oswald had learned that a modified gun locker could memorialize his thoughts, aspirations, and dreams of a better future?

Just think: Oswald's ten-year 8th grade class reunion would have occurred the same year he shot President Kennedy, a reunion that could have altered the course of American history.

Please visit Bill Betzen's website at: http://www.studentmotivation.org

Posted by Anthony Mullen at 9:53 AM | Permalink | Leave a comment | Recommend

I was recently asked to write the foreword to a newly published book titled Chicken Soup for the Soul: Teacher Tales. I was a bit reluctant to write the foreword because I have not used my blog Road Diaries to discuss some of the many wonderful books I have read about the art and beauty of teaching. My fellow bloggers on this page do a wonderful job reviewing such books and writing about the many challenging and complex issues facing educators. I am given the less strenuous task of describing what I see and feel as I travel the country. But when I was told that the book would be written by and for teachers, I felt compelled to visit the book's editor. I agreed to write the foreword under one condition: my fellow 2009 state teachers of the year would have a story included in the book. This was a bold request because the book had received over 3000 submissions from authors seeking to be published in a Chicken Soup for the Soul book. If the editor agreed to my request, more than half of the 101 stories would be written by my friends and colleagues, teachers who are actively teaching in classrooms. The editor agreed to my request and now I was faced with a new challenge: what should I write about in the foreword? Why is this particular book important to teachers? And then I thought about a teacher I had met in Mississippi. This lovely and compassionate woman had been teaching for almost forty years and now wanted to...

Foreword to Chicken Soup for the Soul: Teacher Tales.

Living in a fast paced world flooded with technology has taken something away from the essential human desire to enjoy a story. The 101 stories in this inspirational book will provide the reader much time to relax and enjoy a good tale.

Thank you, America's teachers, for sharing your stories.

And thank you for helping us get dressed in the morning.

Posted by Anthony Mullen at 11:00 AM | Permalink | Leave a comment | Recommend