Take Out the Stories They've Put into Your Mind

“To embrace suffering culminates in greater empathy, the capacity to feel what it is like for the other to suffer, which is the ground for unsentimental compassion and love." - Stephen Batchelor, Confessions of a Buddhist Atheist

Throughout the past month, covid numbers climbed again. Many I know began to retreat back into their cocoons. Fear set in. Again. Newspaper headlines reported the descent into another chaotic public health crisis coupled with a political crisis of a growing resistance movement by the many who refuse to accept that covid represents any sort of threat to their lives or those of their loved ones. 

As an uplifting backdrop to the daily fresh hell of American politics, I have been reading a book about grief and acceptance of loss. Despite not actively grieving anyone at the moment, I found the book particularly moving and an important glimpse into how Americans view death. The read fresh in my mind when my partner recently proclaimed that, "covid has stolen nearly two years of our lives at this point!" it unlocked the missing piece for me in all of this. The resistance and the covid-cautious are both grieving in some way, albeit very differently. Everyone has lost someone or something out of this pandemic. No one wanted this, clearly. But now that it is here, the only way out is through. Certain people have settled on through is to risk getting covid and hope that their own immune defenses will be enough. Yet, from a utilitarian standpoint, the best way through for the highest percentage of people (young to old, healthy to unwell, poor to rich) would be to increase the number of preventative measures like vaccinating, distancing, increasing overall health, etc. 

Americans will go to great lengths to avoid any sort of discomfort - mentally, emotionally, and physically. These measures against discomfort take many forms including believing in conspiracy theories, alternative timelines, and accepting millenarianism. The pandemic has gone through many stages at this point, and in its current evolution, there's still not a hint of acceptance coming through on any political front. For the more cautious, unending vigilance against viruses has literally put lives on hold in major ways, threatening to damage the socioemotional and intellectual development of everyone involved. On the other side, an assertion of individual freedoms over anything that impedes their lives in any way, big or small, has put countless innocents at risk of dying unnecessarily of covid. Both of these perspectives are just that -interpretations of reality.  Yet, "reality" aligns with the universe's moral stance, which is to say, there is not one. 

Speaking of discomfort, this semester I took Economics of Education, a course that I powered through to learn the secrets of another perspective on the world. I will never be an economist. It's a degree of empiricism that is akin to religious fanaticism in my mind. If answers are in the numbers, wouldn't we have been able to figure out how to solve the problem of unequal outcomes in school achievement by now? Maybe there are truly too many variables to study this definitively. As much as I felt like an outsider in the course and at times experienced imposter syndrome, I am glad I continued in the course. The class provided valuable information about how others who contribute to the field of education view the institutions and people within it. As the only active educator, I was a minority voice within the discussions at times because my experience had led me to different conclusions and desirous of different solutions than those being presented. Talking face to face with others made it possible to come to an understanding of where we could come together and what would require compromise to accomplish. The current political milieu, entrenched in faceless online interactions does not allow for such a vent. 

As someone whose entire occupation relies on in-person interactions, I spend a lot of time thinking about how our culture is evolving due to the prevalence of online interactions. About a month ago, I was sitting in the back of a public high school auditorium last period with my worst class academically. As they shifted in their seats, uncomfortable and done with the week, a guest speaker tried to engage them in meditation and mindfulness. Admittedly, my own mindfulness during this series of workshops had been absolutely abysmal - writing a paper, grading, checking email, et al. But I decided to model good behavior by at least trying to "turn on, tune in, drop out," too. Why should they be the only ones to sit uncomfortably until the last bell rang?

I began by watchfully observing my students; a movie blasted through the partitioned wall in a drama class. The dialogue caught my attention as something I had seen before -  A Vietnam-era movie? Full Metal Jacket? Maybe. But then, after waking a kid up, the "Flight of the Valkyries" kicked in, and I knew it - Apocalypse Now! Oh, I thought, this is an interesting juxtaposition. Choppers flying overhead, machinegun fire, and a will to be fully present; it took strength to not laugh out loud at that moment. The presenter seemed not to notice, neither did the kids.  Despite their collective disinterest in the program, some of the students were paying close attention and all of them at least had a break from the norm of the hyper-scheduled school day. 

This tableau so concisely symbolizes the experience of working in a public school - the dysfunction is real, and yet largely, the kids are alright. For those concerned about the wellness of students after two years of interruptions, the truth is, there are issues academically, behaviorally, and emotionally. Parents and politicos should realize that those problems may have been exacerbated by school being interrupted, but they were already manifesting long before that. Problems may be coming to a head because there's a support staff at school to adequately deal with it. Many students, like many adults, want to return to whatever their normal was before. Constantly harping on the learning losses and emotional depravity of covid-learning plants thoughts in students' minds that there IS something wrong. 

Anxiety often proves to be unproductive. Rather, present students with tools and coping mechanisms, meet students where they are academically and model good behavior. Education institutions have been providing these services for generations. We have to trust that with the right support, public institutions can survive the most difficult times as those in which we live. For those who find it more appropriate to tear down public faith in these institutions, the question becomes just how cynical are you about the state of society? Public schools persisted through prior pandemics, world wars, doomsday countdowns, natural disasters, and perpetual budget cuts. The difference now is that maintaining the health of schools and similar organizations relies on everyone pitching in. In an era of every man for himself, that's a hard sell. The scarcity mindset is not objective reality - it's another lens that's employed to control people through fear. 

Basic human interactions are often awkward and uncomfortable, they require give and take. We're all grieving for the loss of our normal lives, but we're so focused on the loss, we're also forgetting we're still living despite all of that grieving. The best way forward is through, no matter how uncomfortable. 

How can American educators regain a status in the professional class?

    In the past twenty years, the United States and Finland’s public education systems developed along completely different trajectories; while the formidable superpower repeatedly tests in the middle of the pack on international assessments, the relatively small Scandinavian country has become a powerhouse and a model for the world. American attempts at increasing accountability for individual educators stagnate growth and stunt progress whereas Finland’s model of shared responsibility promotes teacher autonomy and creativity as well as measurable success for students.  What can the United States learn from an international model of excellence like Finland? How can American educators regain a status in the professional class on par with other white collar professionals like lawyers and doctors? 

American teachers increasingly found themselves drawn into the political sphere this year during an already trying experience of teaching during the pandemic. From the initial lockdown through the one year point in the pandemic, public opinion on teachers has gone through a kaleidoscope of changes. Despite the variable view of teachers in society’s eye, educators as a workforce have largely adapted to teaching in this new environment of virtual, hybrid and socially distanced classrooms. For many teachers, being publicly vilified and used as political pawns seem de rigeur at this point. Regardless, the included stressor of a worldwide crisis has only added to the amount of pressure on America’s teachers to perform herculean tasks that are far beyond their pay grade. Thus, more teachers are reporting burnout and contemplating leaving the profession entirely than ever before.

 

While conditions within American public schools have been exacerbated by the

coronavirus lockdowns and restrictions, there is an underlying ideological malady that predates

interruptions by any literal disease. The ideological shift from responsibility toward “accountability” in public education has been one of the hallmark symptoms of the disease

plaguing public education, (ESEA, Statement of Purpose, Sec. 1001). While the two terms are

related and often used interchangeably, accountability puts the onus on individuals and their

actions, oftentimes measured by output. Since the introduction of No Child Left Behind legislation in 2002, or its successor, Every Student Succeeds, educators have been

evaluated based on their students’ performances on high-stakes state exams, such as the PARCC,

district-wide initiatives like benchmark exams, or even individual coursework through SGOs

(student grown objectives).  Much like other public policy initiatives, the way of

approaching public education has been dominated by neoliberal, “third way” socioeconomic

theory, “The social theory of the Third Way argued for integrative thinking—linking the best of government leadership with innovative markets in educational change. In practice,

though, many Third Way policies have drifted from the Way's original ideals—alienating

students, corrupting classrooms, manipulating educators, and deceiving the public,”

(Hargreaves & Hurley, 21).

As educational theorists Andy Hargreaves and Dennis Hurley note, while the third way can offer

objective numbers that can be compared across school districts, there has been an overemphasis

on those raw scores rather than considering the human aspect of the teaching profession. 

The obsession with accountability has roots much deeper than the influence of corporate paradigms within education. A misapplication of the Protestant work ethic is at the root of this pathology. Elements of the Calvinist strain of Protestantism at the foundation of Anglo-American colonization remain a cornerstone for defining “core American values.” The thrifty and hardworking Puritans are but one group in a long line of stoic endurers of difficult times in the American mythos - from homesteading pioneers to the Depression era savers to pandemic bread makers and DIY-ers; there have always been survivors and thrivers. This persistence through obstacles, while originally attributed to God’s saving grace, has been secularized into part of the American character. 

This perseverance has been co-opted by corporate America into another selling point for potential employees. Marketability of one’s self now must include some sort of grit, “x” factor, or charisma that remains difficult to define or quantify. What is it that makes one employee thrive but another wilt? Those who cannot keep up may be provided with constructive criticism or a corrective action plan, but the onus of success remains on the individual and not the institution. The lie perpetuated here is that those “graced” with grit will perform well, despite any hardships. 

The concept of accountability under the guise of “grit” even swept through schools as a way to market personal accountability to individual students. Valorizing this nebulous but clearly individual trait turns education into a competitive exhibition of academic success earned through grit - and measured through gains on quantitative assessments - which in turn allows access to highly-rated colleges and highly-paid careers. Life within and beyond the classroom is reduced to the pursuit of the “score.” Such practices prime students for their future as obedient players in systems that continue to “grade” them throughout their lives - from their school to  employment careers. Accountability provides employers with a mode to quantitatively measure job performance without explicitly saying so. 

Accountability (and measures of it) is a tool. The emphasis on accountability as the bellwether of health of an institution like public education is problematic, however. Schools do not exist in a vacuum and while an individual teacher or district can be measured through evaluative standards on how well they perform, there are multiple variables that remain outside their control, despite their potential impact on the outcome, (for example, socioeconomic status of students in a class or district). Accountability as a measure stems from the corporatization of the public sector in the US. Both major American political parties embraced neoliberalism in their own ways in the wake of the Cold War, but always with an end goal toward protecting profit margins. As noted by education researcher Marianne Larsen, “...the imperatives of global capital have imposed neo-liberal economic discipline on all levels of government...characterized by managerialism, these policies entail the introduction of business values and practices in the public sector,” (Larsen, 293). 

While teacher quality can and should be assessed, what would be the most effective and

productive way to do so, and would that make a difference in professional satisfaction and for

student achievement as well?  On an international level, the evaluative model for teacher

professionalism and expertise varies from nation-state to nation-state; international comparisons

have shown that the more high-stakes and punitive teacher evaluations are, the more likely they

are to provoke counterproductive distress within the evaluee, “Like other fields of study, education has been influenced by market-driven global forces, and stakeholders with administrative powers started questioning whether their investment, financial or otherwise, was getting its worth…accountability-based teacher evaluation models, despite their popularity nowadays, are more likely to ‘increase stress, anxiety, fear, and mistrust amongst teachers and limit growth, flexibility and creativity’ (Larsen, 292) and that teachers are oftentimes struggling with trying to meet the requirements defined by various stakeholders.” (Tarhan, 37).

Yet, the problem may not be with accountability itself, but the cultural climate surrounding accountability; what foundational ideologies surround accountability in the US versus Finland?  While their research focuses on accountability for students, the differing sociopolitical context in the US and Finland frames the usage and interpretation of accountability as a tool. Furthermore, the researchers illuminate the stark contrast between the Finnish teacher training programs and associated professional evaluative systems, which are standardized across a handful of universities, all with the same objectives to meet the national requirements for professionalism, with the American accreditation programs, which not only vary from state to state, but may vary from district to district within a state.

          

Reflecting on Weariness

“When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.” – Viktor Frankl

Two weeks ago, on a remote day of instruction thanks to a true winter snowstorm, the likes of which the area has not seen in years, I finally felt "over" the pandemic. Logging into class that morning, I relayed this sentiment to my students, who were as war-weary themselves. Some of them nodded in agreement, while others stared straight ahead into their cameras. It's not that I hadn't felt "over it" prior to that day, but those moments had been more tied up in fear, anguish, disgust or generally overridden by another, stronger emotion. Etymologically, weariness draws meaning from physical exhaustion, obviously, but shares deeper roots with notions of wandering and intoxication. When I reflect on how the past year has felt "weary," at times, it has encompassed those alternate meanings as well. It's been like walking through a dream in some moments, and in others, as though Kafka himself handed me some real wicked shit to try and now we're both suffering a bad, paranoid trip.

Our school demands that we consider the curriculum in light of the stressors of the outside world and that we maintain a degree of normalcy for the kids' sake while leaving their mental health to appropriately-designated professionals like counselors and social workers. While I do not think I should be personally counseling students, taking a moment to relate to them as people is something that reaffirms that we are all going through something and it is OK to be tired or frustrated. Normalizing mental weariness and stressors is a frightening prospect for many educational professionals and others in positions of authority (including politicians) because it tends to be associated with weakness and uncertainty in American culture. For many students however, their feelings ARE very certain to them. To not acknowledge said feelings and to power through the pandemic as though we will all come through on the other side of this as though nothing disrupted our pre-pandemic flow for a year plus is delusional and destructive to each of our selves. 

Within the same time frame of coming to terms with taedium vitae, I recently stopped blow drying and straightening my hair. While it may seem like an odd thing to pivot toward discussing in this post, it marked a milestone of acceptance of my self. From teenage years on, I have tried to change the texture of my hair. Not really having any luck in the long run, I at least succeeded to mask nature through sheer determination and a colossal waste of my own time. No one had ever specifically told me wavy hair was undesirable, but it was never shown to be desirable either, which left me to draw my own conclusions. While some white lady finally embracing her natural hair texture isn't revolutionary, it does raise the question of the degree of pervasiveness beauty standards and norms have in our wider culture. More broadly, embracing the natural within myself has been a way to escape the existential weariness associated with cultural conformity that extends far beyond the past year. America's obsession with getting back on the road to normalcy in the post-pandemic world has gone through many iterations in the past year - from virtue-signaling to a particular base, to publicly flouting basic hygienic and safety precautions, and extending to an extreme and abject rejection of reality (eg; the rise of conspiratorial theories, the failed Capitol insurrection, et al).

However, the post-pandemic world is not here yet, and to pretend that going back to business-as-usual is necessary now is misguided and dangerous. To stave off more weariness for the future generations, now should be the time to take stock in whether business-as-usual is even worth going back to. The obstinate American idealism that preceded so many national disasters, like the entirety of the 1920s, for example, points to the idea that American rhetoric has continually been incapable of acceptance of reality. There's a degree of insanity to American (or any nation's version of) exceptionalism that prevents the cultural messaging from attending to the suffering and subsequent healing at the time of a crisis. It takes a pragmatic mind to address issues in the now rather than looking toward a way to reverse course and recreate a simpler past or to barrel through toward a better future. The biggest concern I have moving through this entire year of quarantining is that many Americans will come out having learned little to nothing about themselves and our society. Reflecting on the present would go a long way toward understanding how best to provide support for all members of our society to stave off suffering for future generations coming of age in the post-pandemic world. That would start with being truer to ourselves. 

‘There is a still deeper source of activist faith and activist nihilism in a profound taedium vitae, in a malaise in historical existence, in a deep-seated spiritual impotence of meeting life on its own terms, and consequently in a will to escape from the burden of existence into a paradise.