forjona.doc

Curriculum for Jonah, who will be 27 in the year 2001 By Liza Loop, 1985 Our world is changing. And, the amount of change experienced by each human generation is increasing. What should the goals of education be under such conditions? What should we teach our children to prepare them for adult life in the 21st century? The answers we give to these questions will describe a theory of curriculum, a sieve with which to separate out a useful course of study from the whole body of human knowledge and a skeleton to be fleshed out with teaching strategies, lesson plans and instructional materials.

In the following pages, I will present and justify my own theory of curriculum. I will begin with a vision of an educated adult in the year 2001. This vision will be incomplete because it is impossible to predict with accuracy what changes the next 15 years will bring. Stepping back from my crystal ball, I will glance around the present landscape. What is the curriculum encountered by my own children today? At 12 and 14, they are just entering secondary school in the most highly industrialized nation in the world. Is their current experience likely to result in an adult who fulfills my vision in 2001? If not, what adjustments in prevailing theory should I prescribe to increase their chances for success?

Before bending to the fortuneteller's task, I want to exorcise a twin pair of ghosts that frequently haunt discussions about education. The first ghost is the belief that education is what goes on in schools. Yes, education does take place in schools, but it also takes place in the home, the movie theater, the tranquil trout stream, the jail cell and any other human habitat. Knowledge is not only that which can be read in a scholar's book. It is the exact time to press the button on a switch blade and what to say to secure fifth year graduate funding and how hard a mother should hug a fourteen year old boy. Education is, in the words of George Spindler, "cultural transmission." (1) For most individuals, school is only a small part of it.

The second ghost is the belief that schools, that is, buildings, campuses, children collected in groups under the control of an adult, and lockstep courses of study, are a necessary institution in modern life that ought to be preserved, reformed, and continued. From an historical perspective, schools for the education of the masses are a very new phenomenon. Although there is a correlation between the spread of mass schooling and the acceleration of change we are now experiencing, correlation does not necessarily imply a causal relationship.

I mention these ghosts because I wish to separate the notion of curriculum from the structure we normally think of as school. Curriculum is an abstraction of the culture that should be transmitted to the next generation. The question of whether the transmission process should go on within the walls of the little red schoolhouse or not leads one to conjure up alternate visions -- of sleep tapes, educational television and computers along with one-to-one mentors and peer tutors. But alternate visions are not at issue here so we shall not be disturbed if our crystal ball happens to reveal curricular characteristics which could not be implemented within the context of that institution we call school in the current year: 1985.

As the swirling mist recedes from the glass orb, we see the ideal products of late twentieth century education jog into view. Both sexes are clothed in biologically responsive second skins that reveal the curves and sinews of good health. Each sports a brightly colored cape that advertises their individual cultural heritages through traditional designs and symbols.

How do they allocate their waking hours? Roughly in four parts: 4 hours in personal maintenance including grooming, exercising, dressing, eating, cooking, housekeeping, shopping, and decorating their residences; 4 hours in "social production" (what we used to call work); 4 hours of recreational activity such as playing games, attending cultural events, communing with nature, or participating in the arts; and, of course, 4 hours at school. What do they mean, "at school?" Well, not in a classroom as they did in the old days, rather, "engaged in a learning activity." For example, suppose your coffee pot won't perk. You put it in test mode and see if the self diagnosis is still working. If not, you call up a page of instructions and learn how to do a manual diagnosis. If you can't get it going, you recycle it, get a new pot and spend about 1/2 hour with it going through the tutorial.

It's the same with all their tools and appliances in the home, at work and at play. If the item is more than a year old you will have to learn a completely new procedure in order to operate it. In this century there is no concept of "finishing school" or "on the job training." The learning of operational skills is a necessary supporting activity that accompanies every facet of life. The "how" and "what" of this year will be different next year.

Living with this kind of change has some interesting consequences in the development of self concept. These children, born in the 70's and '80's of the last century, see themselves as the intersection of two perpendicular time sequences. One is the individual's history: Who am I? Who were my people historically? What did they look like? How did they live? What was the style of their art and music and poetry? This consciousness informs their personal styles as expressed in their homes, the work they choose and the capes on their backs.

The other strand of identity is rooted in the present and spreads widely, but only into the near future. It is concerned with the individual's abilities, skills, talents, mental and physical strengths and weaknesses which determine his capacity learn fast enough to make a continuing contribution to the productive work of the society. A doctor who misses the latest wonder drug is likely to be sued by the patient who finds out about it after his leg has been amputated. The engineer, unfamiliar with wafer scale integration (which hadn't been imagined during his undergraduate days), will be quietly laid off. The housewife who doesn't master her new appliances will have a nervous breakdown.

A further effect is noticeable if you examine the value of creativity in this future decade. That which is algorithmic, which can be described by a computer program and thereafter carried out by a robot, is not required, in the normal course of things, from a human. However, it cannot be completely forgotten either, because robots and computers are still not self regenerative. People have to fix them. And, if they need to be fixed, something unexpected must have happened. Creativity backed by knowledge is needed to deal with the unexpected.

In recreation and personal care, now a larger feature in the life of the common man than in the previous century, opportunities for creative expression and appreciation have broadened. The crystal ball does not reveal the downtrodden industrial worker slaving from dawn to dusk nor the starving peasant. Craftsmanship and artistic innovation are enjoying a renaissance. A person who cannot amuse himself in the absence of external directives is severely handicapped in this society and would be urged to place himself in therapy immediately.

What are the educational goals that must have been attained by those who have made a happy adjustment to 2001? The 3 R's have been superseded by the 3 C's: Creating, Communicating, and Computing. This doesn't mean that no one can read, write, or do arithmetic. Rather, those disciplines are seen as components of the 3 C's. Reading and writing, for example, are seen as methods of communicating, as access to and medium of creation, and as adjunct skills (along with interpreting icons and manipulating a "mouse") to computing. Also, it is possible to get along quite nicely without reading and writing in 2001 if one is sufficiently creative. It is similar to being unable to drive a car in 1985, one of those skills you might never bother to acquire because you were too busy doing other things.

Before we return to the realities of 1985 a few miscellaneous comments are in order about the 3 C’s.

Creating: I predict that we will learn a great deal more about creativity and its function in such activities as scientific discovery, industrial invention, programming, and "fixing things." I believe creativity is both a "gift" that one is born with and a "skill" that can be learned and exploited for practical purposes.

Communicating: Communication can be intra and/or interpersonal. To be in touch with one's own body, to be centered or well balanced, to be self directed, to know one's own strengths and weaknesses, to be sure one's right brain is talking to one's left brain, these are the outcomes of well-developed, intrapersonal communication. Interpersonal communication includes reading, writing, speaking, and listening on the most obvious level. These become deeper when we add art, music, dance, as more general examples of using visual symbols, sounds, and body movement to communicate among people. A further level of complexity occurs when we consider the mediation of these forms of communication through print, sound, video and holographic recording.

Computing: The use of machines of the type we commonly call computers also leads in some non-obvious directions. The ability to index and store large quantities of information makes skill in retrieving information move valuable than skill in remembering it. We are then faced with the problem of remembering or regenerating the index, not the information it points to. To do this a broad general knowledge of what kinds of facts might be found under what kinds of headings is needed. Further, we must understand the structure of the data base and how the retrieval program searches it. We must also be aware that stored information ages, sometimes maintaining its value, sometimes decaying. For example, a list of the passengers on the Mayflower is not likely to change from 1998 to 2002. However, a list of headache remedies may need several additions and deletions during the same time period. In 1985, people are predicting that computing will change society in ways as profound as the invention of the printing press or the harnessing of electricity. By 2001, reprogramming a coffee pot will be child's play!

The crystal surface of my word processor grows dark and cloudy as my 14 year old shoves his algebra book under my nose. "I don't understand this polynomial stuff, Mom," he whines. I wonder what theory of curriculum dictates that this bundle of competing hormones must unravel polynomials today. His 12 year old brother sits across the room happily building Lego spaceships. He has just returned from alpha testing a computer-based algebra tutorial. He finished seven of the twelve levels of tutorial in less than two hours. He has never had instruction in algebra before.

Algebra in the 9th grade is part of the intended curriculum for college track students in American high schools. It is only partly driven by history since both these boys are already more advanced in math than an Eton graduate of 1950. Piaget would say they are ready for formal operations now. But is multiplication of polynomials the paradigm of formal operations? Not for this 14 year old. He's confused and angry. He has a personal antipathy for not knowing the right answer and he can't see any use in knowing about polynomials. This curriculum is driven by the US hunger for scientists and engineers who must complete differential equations by the end of the sophomore year in college in order to fit in electricity and magnetism as well as quantum mechanics! It has almost nothing to do with the human being standing at my side. And the other one across the room? He will be bored to tears by the time he gets to Algebra 1. The picture gets worse if I widen my view of "the curriculum" beyond the list of required high school courses provided by the University of California.

Let's draw a diagram that includes the intended curriculum and the "beyond."





Algebra is part of the curriculum intended by the teacher. It's all laid out in the book. But there are also the unintended lessons implicit in the presentation of a two semester course in Algebra: It ought to take you nine months to learn this. I remember exasperated shouts of "Is that all there is to it?" when Mr. 14 finally understood the relationship between the unfamiliar algebraic representation and the arithmetic he had been going over for the last eight years. EIGHT YEARS! There really isn't very much to learn in first year algebra when you are ready and willing. Mr. 12 could slice through that book in three months, starting right now but we don't teach algebra in 6th grade (or 7th or 8th). Then there are uncountable lessons from peers: the cheapest place to buy skateboard trucks, how to "share" algebra homework, who's cute and who's not, and perhaps even how to multiply polynomials. A fourth circle can represent the lessons from the experience of school itself: be on time, do what you are told, innovative behavior is not likely to be rewarded, you are not o.k. as you are, you must be educated. All this is superimposed onto a background of cultural transmission from the home and the street.

What relationship does school-based instruction have to the 3 C's of 2001? Not much. Unless the message comes from the home, the object of the secondary curriculum in 1985 does not get the impression that he is in the midst of a lifelong educational journey. My sons, among others, are hoping for a "quick trip." No one tells them that their goal is to learn how to learn. Their goal is clearly to learn algebra. And creative solutions to algebra problems are out. Right answers are in. Were Mr. 14 to inform his teacher that the map in his ten year old geography book does not reflect the Africa of today he will not be applauded nor would this be the harbinger to a lesson on the aging of data. He is told to learn what is in the book. Perhaps a ditto of an updated map will be substituted, but the nature of data and its evaluation is not part of the curriculum. Mr. 12 is likely to figure out such relationships for himself, but for Mr. 14 the results will be tragic.

What of communication? That between teacher and student must be squeezed through a narrow channel of questions chosen by the teacher and answers judged correct by the teacher. The rivers of communication between peers, both in school and in the street, go largely unmonitored and untutored. Communication in the home will be a function of whether the child has had the good sense to be born to sensitive, communicating parents. My sons have taken some gorgeous photographs but the only communications that count at school are handwritten essays.

And yet, which adults do we judge to be the best educated today in 1985? Are they the punctual, right answer givers? Of course not. The best educated are the people who keep coming up with new ideas, who learn from every experience, who can find a fact when they need it, who can adjust to changes in the workplace and in society. As Eisner and Vallance put it, "the central issues in educational discussion do not revolve around the time orientation itself" (2). My crystal ball is only a stage device to focus our attention on consequences which unfold through time. Would you think a person well educated if he was bored most of the time, used his creativity to avoid work and prefered to spend his days watching television today?

Unfortunately, that is an accurate description of many of the products of today's curriculum. What theory supports that curriculum? Clear expositions are hard to find. But it is not one that values creativity, communication, and access to information (computing) above all else. It is not one that concerns itself deeply with the intrapersonal state of the learner. It does not place itself in the middle of a lifelong activity which will provide countless opportunities to pick up any topics that might be missed during the early years of formal schooling. It is failing the students who will emerge from the cocoon of high school this year and, without major change now, it will not be any better for the young adults of 2001.

(1) Spindler, George D.; Education and Cultural Process. New York, 1974. Page 274

(2) Eisner, Eliot W. and Vallance, Elizabeth; Conflicting Conceptions of Curriculum. Berkeley, CA, 1974. Page 5