I don’t even have a beginner’s grasp on what School 2.0 might mean (and maybe that’s OK), but I have been playing with a question that seems to be moving in that direction.

What if teachers worked as facilitators and translators, instead of gatekeepers and repositories of knowledge? Bear with me through some thinking-aloud …

Context and Relevance Are Essential

I’ve never understood why education separates the “what” of the curriculum from the “why” of the discipline, though I suspect it’s because too many teachers don’t understand the connections themselves and don’t keep up with the major concerns of their discipline. (Not entirely their fault … see my last post.)

Teachers get exasperated at the kid who asks the question: “why do I have to learn this?” But that’s an extremely important, and intelligent, question to ask. Learning only happens for two reasons outside the artificial construct of school: 1) because the person has a natural inclination to and interest in the topic, or 2) because it’s necessary for achieving a desired goal. In both cases, personal satisfaction or survival is the motivation. Why do we expect things to be different in school?

I think schools can and should do a better job of providing that motivation, but we’ve sold out to easy answers like: “it’s on the test” or “it’s in the curriculum” or “you’ll need it for college.” These are bad answers, and that’s why students don’t accept them.

To provide better answers, though, teachers must understand the connection between what they teach in the classroom and the larger issues and questions that drive their discipline as well as the real-world application of their lessons. In other words: the context and the relevance.

In effect, we ask students to study the minutiae of carburetors without first letting them feel the power of a race car. Who cares about carburetors? No one. Or, more precisely, only the people who understand how carburetors affect the race car, and then only in that context.

Context and Relevance Require Careful Thought

There are a number of ways to provide context and relevance to our instruction, but it should never be optional. If a student has to ask why they need to know something, then we’ve failed at some point and shouldn’t bother moving ahead until that question no longer needs to be asked.

One way to bring context and relevance to any discipline would be to involve students with the real-world workings of that discipline. This would mean getting them to interact with professionals that rely heavily on the given discipline and introducing them to the “big questions” that the discipline seeks to answer.

I can imagine working with my English students in this way. I would have to start by clarifying (for myself) the answers to some difficult questions.

What are the concerns of this discipline? My answer: communicating effectively using a variety of modes and media; reading a variety of texts for understanding, analysis, and critique; understanding how various groups communicate (or fail to communicate) in the past and present;considering how culture, age, gender, and other factors inform communication; learning to take advantage of the relevant knowledge and skills to enact change personally and communally.

What are the major questions/issues of this discipline? My answer: cultural literacy, the “canon wars,” cultural/multi-cultural studies, the nature of texts, and even the purpose of creating and maintaining English as a separate discipline.

Who relies on this discipline? My answer: everyone to varying degrees, at least indirectly. More specific answers would include writers and publishers, reporters, lawyers, professors, and political analysts, among others.

None of these lists is exhaustive, obviously. Some of them are in contention, particularly the second. But that’s fine … let students in on the secret. I’ve never understood why we hide the “fights” from students until graduate school. The fights are what make it fun! This is part of the move toward transparency in education. If we let students know that people are having nasty fights about some of these questions–because the questions are important and matter–then perhaps they will get interested enough in the fight to learn some things, pick sides and sling some mud of their own. In the process, they’ll also be learning why they need to be critical and analytical readers of texts.

Context and Relevance Allow for Curiosity and Creativity

We should also be helping students to discover their own questions and to see how these questions connect to the concerns of the various disciplines. Curiosity and creativity are the engines of education (though not necessarily of schools). But they both require fuel–the specific concerns and applications of the discipline. Once students can see the context and understand the relevance, they can begin entering the discussion.

Students do this on their own all the time in areas that schools don’t regulate. Bring up topics like witchcraft, anime, or video-game violence to your students. I’ll bet my planning period that they have opinions in some of these areas, are aware of the major arguments, and can express, with some passion, their take on the issue.

By opening up the discipline to the world outside the classroom–the real-world applications, the professionals who rely on these disciplines, and the questions and arguments that surround them–we allow students to see the bigger picture, make connections, and possibly become interested enough to engage on their own terms.

Professionals Can Help Provide Context and Relevance

At the end here, I can offer a sketch of an idea that brings this back to School 2.0. I want to say up front that I haven’t thought this out, considered the implications, or gathered any relevant research, but I wanted to muse aloud …

I can see myself acting as a facilitator of my students’ learning and a translator of the real-world/discipline-wide issues for their level of readiness. Minimally, this would mean finding working professionals in or related to my discipline who would be willing to interact with students on a class blog or discussion forum. This is a start, and would provide some larger context and relevance to their work.

But allow me to dream big and foolish for a moment …

April is interested in magazine publications and physics, particularly that trippy string-theory stuff. She writes bad teen poetry, reads fashion magazines, and isn’t very good at math (she says), but really likes thinking about the idea that the world is made up of two-dimensional vibrating strings. “Like music!” she says, then scrunches her face and asks, “What does that even mean?!”

So what’s my job in this new role? I think it’s to help her find other magazines (Discover and Scientific American to start) and some RSS feeds (News@Nature, Scientific American online, and maybe even the Unexplained Mysteries feed for the alternative perspective). I’d have to do some translating here, too. Some of the reading is beyond her present ability.

Then I’d talk to the scientists/facilitators at my school. (I’m in dream-mode now … at this school, the science teachers are practicing researchers, the English teachers are practicing writers, etc.) They give me some more recommendations. They also direct me to a few blogs written by physicists in the field. When they meet with April later, they introduce her to a physicist in another state who has volunteered to interact with interested students. The scientist/facilitator also moderates a forum and the physicist agrees to check in and respond.

Meanwhile, I’m talking to a few agents, publishers, and full-time writers to set up a similar situation. I find an assistant editor from a fashion magazine who has volunteered to work with students. I direct April to a discussion forum hosted by another school devoted to magazine publication. Meanwhile, I’m talking to nearby Nothern Virginia Magazine about their student internship possibilities.

While all of this is happening, April’s writing on her personal blog, reading a selection of Gothic/Romantic novels for which she researches prominent fashions of the time, presenting her findings through presentations and videos, and developing her e-portfolio that demonstrates her growth in reading, writing, and communicating. She writes a final essay about the connection between dress and social customs in Jane Eyre

During all this, I’m making sure she has the skills necessary to fully comprehend what she’s working with. This means we’re addressing grammar and literary terms and movements. It also means I’m checking her reading comprehension and helping where I see problems. I’m in the background of her learning, and I pull her aside for specific lessons when necessary.

Get the idea … ?

But I can hear you already. Safety! Control! What about the kid who can barely read or write? OK … you’ve got me. Those are problems. But they’re problems we need to address, not the end of the conversation.

Students want to be challenged and engaged. (This is one reason video games are so successful.) We need to help them find the challenge in what we teach, and we need to ensure the challenges are within their “zone of proximal development” (games are challenging but not impossible). That’s where the work as both facilitator and translator enter the discussion.

In the case of students who perform significantly below grade level, I would argue that nothing will help them improve faster than giving them a reason to do so–a meaningful, personal reason that provides a context for their learning and a genuine relevance to their lives.

OK, I’m done for now. Chop away …

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