The other night, I had the opportunity to hear former
Governor Larry Hogan speak abou civil public discourse. He talked about growing
up with a father in politics and how people could have passionate
disagreements, argue their positions, and then sit down and have dinner
together. When politicians came to his house, you couldn’t tell the Republicans
from the Democrats because they were friends. Imagine that. People who
disagreed about how to run the country could still break bread together without
treating each other like they were responsible for the decline of the country.
It got me thinking about a conversation I recently had with
someone I greatly respect, even though we hold opposing political views.
Somewhere in the middle of our discussion, we discovered something remarkable.
We wanted the same things. We wanted our kids to receive a good education. We
wanted them to attend school in a safe environment, have safe places to play,
find jobs they enjoyed, and earn enough money to support a family. You know,
the basic stuff that most of us want for the people we love. We weren't arguing
about whether our children deserved these things. We were arguing about how to
make them happen.
After thirty years in
the classroom, I have some pretty strong opinions about education. I've seen
things work, watched other things fail, and probably muttered "Who thought
this was a good idea?" more times than I care to admit. But here's the
uncomfortable question I've been trying to ask myself: How much of what I
believe is based on what I know, and how much is based on the path I've taken?
What if I had been raised in a different household, in a different community,
with different experiences? What if, instead of spending thirty years as a
teacher, I had spent those years as a school administrator? Would I see the
same problems differently? Would the decisions that frustrate me from the
classroom look different when I was responsible for an entire building, a
budget, hundreds of employees, and thousands of competing needs? I don't have
to agree with every decision someone makes to recognize that I might not fully
understand the circumstances that led them to make it.
And what about today's students? What if I were going to
school right now, growing up in a world where artificial intelligence can write
an essay, explain a complicated concept, generate an image, and answer
questions before I have finished figuring out what the questions should be?
Would I think about learning the same way? Would I approach homework, research,
writing, or even the purpose of school differently? It's easy for those of us
who grew up in a different era to look at these changes and immediately decide
what is right and wrong. It's harder to put ourselves in the shoes of a student
who has never known a world without smartphones, social media, and now AI. That
doesn't mean we abandon standards, common sense, or everything we know about
good teaching. It means we recognize that the world our students are preparing
to enter is different from the one we entered. If education is supposed to
prepare young people for the future, shouldn't we be willing to reconsider some
of our assumptions about that future?
Which brings me to something I'm trying to change about the
way I approach a disagreement. For a long time, if I'm being honest, I probably
entered a debate with the goal of making my point, defending my position, and,
if possible, proving tLhe other person wrong. I'm beginning to think that my primary goal
when debating someone shouldn't be to win the argument. It should be listening
to hear something I've never considered before.
The challenge for all of us is to imagine we grew up with
different views. How would that change the
way we would solve the problem? We need
to remember that the other person loves the community, the school and the
country as much as we do. Let us listen
to learn and be able to finish the discussion better friends than when we
started.
As always your feedback is appreciated.
No comments:
Post a Comment