Beginnings

There is a fundamental disconnect in our country between business and education. Employers are consistently reporting that they cannot find workers with the skills they need and yet the Great Recession has left hundreds of thousands of Americans without jobs. This year’s graduating college seniors are facing job prospects only marginally less bleak than last year’s. The obsession with standardized testing that led to No Child Left Behind has not improved “results”. State budgets have cut education funding to the bone and yet we are asking our schools to do more with less… but are schools doing the right kind of “more”? Did we miss the mark by thinking the only problem was a lack of data & accountability? Do we perhaps actually need an approach more about completely revisioning the purpose of education and the mission of schools, preschool to post-graduate, in our country?

Thirteen years ago, I decided that the best way to change the world was to become a teacher. It wasn’t an easy decision. I had grown up in a family with generations of teachers. I spent my childhood waiting for my mother, a high school history teacher, to get out of faculty meetings. I knew that she worked far into the night grading students’ papers. We had several of her students live with us while they went through family crises. Teaching was a hard, hard job.

Worse still, I wanted to teach elementary school. Young children. I was living in D.C. then, working for a well-regarded think tank in an administrative role. When I told people my plans, the respect I’d been accorded by association with my employer vanished. “Can you teach me how to color?” one young man leered.

I spent two years at Bank Street Graduate School of Education, teaching during the day and taking classes at night. I chose Bank Street because I wanted the hands-on, practical experience along with a rigorous intellectual challenge in a setting that saw children the way I did– as real people with valid ideas, partners in the process of learning.  After graduating with a masters of science in early childhood / elementary education, I chose to teach in independent schools. I started my teaching career in 2001, the same year No Child Left Behind was passed. “Teaching to the test” was starting to dominate public school life. That wasn’t my vision of education. My vision was pretty much this:


And, indeed, that’s how I taught for six years, first through fourth grades (although I spent three years teaching third grade and there is a part of me that will always be a third grade teacher). We explored the world together through math, technology, reading, writing, history, science, music and art. We wrote every day. One of my favorite memories was the day it snowed and we had to cancel a planned field trip. I led my students on a senses walk outside, calling out “Look!” “Hear!” “Taste!” “Smell!” “Touch!” as we tromped through the snow. Once back inside, we sprawled out and wrote poems about our experiences (yes, we. I wrote, too). Oh, I was very Maria Von Trapp.

I left because I burned out. Not from the kids, but from the tension between the parents, who were either too present or not present enough, and the administration, which was always, always too present without being supportive. It wasn’t easy to transition out. Prospective employers saw “teacher” on my résumé and assumed that I wanted something in a school. They couldn’t see how my experience running a classroom– organizing, managing, providing feedback, coaching, planning curriculum, communicating– translated into the non-education world. And yet I have drawn on my teaching experience every single day of my working life.

My career took me first into school administration (K-12) and then back into my first love (and undergraduate major)- politics. I managed two campaigns, one local, one for the state legislature. Everywhere my candidates went, education was on people’s minds. A year ago, I began working at a public community college. A two-year technical college. This is the first time I’ve been employed at a public institution. I love it. Our students are wonderfully diverse– older than your typical community college student, with a rich array of immigration stories, socioeconomic & ethnic backgrounds. Our students are training for careers, not just jobs. Their programs range from two months to two years. Our average placement rate is 76%– meaning that 76% of our students find jobs in their field. We are successful at what we do, although we are constantly seeking to improve.

I bring a unique perspective to the education conversation. As a former teacher, I know first hand what it’s like to work in a classroom, scrambling to put together lesson plans, waking up in the middle of the night thinking about a problem with a student, meeting with worried parents, having the hard conversation about needing further testing, celebrating the “ah-ha!” moments. I have taught in overcrowded public school classrooms in inner city New York. I have taught in quiet independent school classrooms in verdant New England. I have taught the children of parents who relied on food stamps and lived in public housing. I have taught the children of millionaires.

I also bring a policy view– not just education policy, but public policy from the perspective of an elected official dealing with an array of competing interests.

And then last June, I participated in the Marshall Memorial Fellowship, which took me to Europe for 24 days, discussing trans-Atlantic relationships and the European Union with policy leaders from five different European nations and a broad cross-section of the United States. My companions included the sharpest rising legal minds in the country, legislative leaders, veterans, public policy analysts, and business people.  For the first time in my career, I stopped hearing that guy in the bar in D.C. asking if I could teach him to color. I started to realize that I had something important to bring to the conversation. None of my fellow Fellows knew what it was like to teach kindergarten in Spanish Harlem. None of my former teaching colleagues had visited a trade school in Berlin. None of my current colleagues have talked with candidates for statewide office about higher education policy. None of my business leader friends knew how to teach a first grader algebra or how to read.

At a recent Marshall Forum in Dallas, the focus was on the economy, both here in the US & in the European Union. There were plenty of sessions that included “innovation” in the workshop title and none that centered on education… and yet, we kept coming back to education.

“Innovation” is a hot buzz word now. I’m interested in how education relates to and supports innovation. Innovation is a habit of mind, a culture of being as much as a result. It is essential for success in this post-Great Recession, Etsy-generation world. It is, in many ways, a core American value. In order for our nation to thrive in this new age, we have to figure out a way to align our education systems with the requirements of an innovation economy. I will be writing about higher education and workforce training, but I will also be writing about innovation in general and the ways in which our entire perspective on education needs to change to ensure the coming generations are prepared.

I hope that you will engage in a conversation here. Education cannot happen in a vacuum. Innovators and educators are in the same business- making things and people better. It’s time we started to talk.

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2 thoughts on “Beginnings

  1. Very well written!! We need to get people ready for careers. Not just a job, and let them know that learning is a lifelong journey!!!

  2. I agree. Well written. It is time we start to talk. It’s funny, at 43 years old, I’m learning how to listen. I’m not nearly as good as it as I’d like to be, but I’m learning.

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