Organically Inclined

This essay, by John Taylor Gatto, has inspired me to no end. I hope it will inspire you too!

The 7-Lesson Schoolteacher
by John Taylor Gatto
New Society Publishers, 1992

“Call me Mr. Gatto, please. Twenty-six years ago, having nothing
better to do at the time, I tried my hand at schoolteaching. The
license I hold certifies that I am an instructor of English language and
English literature, but that isn’t what I do at all. I don’t teach
English, I teach school — and I win awards doing it.

“Teaching means different things in different places, but seven
lessons are universally taught Harlem to Hollywood Hills. They
constitute a national curriculum you pay more for in more ways than you
can imagine, so you might as well know what it is. You are at liberty,
of course, to regard these lessons any way you like, but believe me when
I say I intend no irony in this presentation. These are the things I
teach, these are the things you pay me to teach. Make of them what you
will:

I.

“A lady named Kathy wrote this to me from Dubois, Indiana the other
day:

“”What big ideas are important to little kids? Well, the biggest
idea I think they need is that what they are learning isn’t
idiosyncratic — that this is some system to it all and it’s not just
raining down on them as they helplessly absorb. That’s the task, to
understand, to make coherent.”

“Kathy has it wrong. The first lesson I teach is confusion.
Everything I teach is out of context… I teach the unrelating of
everything. I teach disconnections. I teach too much: the orbiting of
planets, the law of large numbers, slavery, adjectives, architectural
drawing, dance, gymnasium, choral singing, assemblies, surprise guests,
fire drills, computer languages, parent’s nights, staff-development
days, pull-out programs, guidance with strangers you may never see
again, standardized tests, age-segregation unlike anything seen in the
outside world… what do any of these things have to do with each
other?

“Even in the best schools a close examination of curriculum and its
sequences turns up a lack of coherence, full of internal contradictions.
Fortunately the children have no words to define the panic and anger
they feel at constant violations of natural order and sequence fobbed
off on them as quality in education. The logic of the school-mind is
that it is better to leave school with a tool kit of superficial jargon
derived from economics, sociology, natural science and so on than to
leave with one genuine enthusiasm. But quality in education entails
learning about something in depth. Confusion is thrust upon kids by too
many strange adults, each working alone with only the thinnest
relationship with each other, pretending for the most part, to an
expertise they do not possess.

“Meaning, not disconnected facts, is what sane human beings seek,
and education is a set of codes for processing raw facts into meaning.
Behind the patchwork quilt of school sequences, and the school obsession
with facts and theories the age-old human search lies well concealed.
This is harder to see in elementary school where the hierarchy of school
experience seems to make better sense because the good-natured simple
relationship of “let’s do this” and “let’s do that now” is just assumed
to mean something and the clientele has not yet consciously discerned
how little substance is behind the play and pretense.

“Think of all the great natural sequences like learning to walk and
learning to talk, following the progression of light from sunrise to
sunset, witnessing the ancient procedures of a farm, a smithy, or a
shoemaker, watching your mother prepare a Thanksgiving feast — all of
the parts are in perfect harmony with each other, each action justifies
itself and illuminates the past and future. School sequences aren’t
like that, not inside a single class and not among the total menu of
daily classes. School sequences are crazy. There is no particular
reason for any of them, nothing that bears close scrutiny. Few teachers
would dare to teach the tools whereby dogmas of a school or a teacher
could be criticized since everything must be accepted. School subjects
are learned, if they can be learned, like children learn the catechism
or memorize the 39 articles of Anglicanism. I teach the un-relating of
everything, an infinite fragmentation the opposite of cohesion; what I
do is more related to television programming than to making a scheme of
order. In a world where home is only a ghost because both parents work
or because too many moves or too many job changes or too much ambition
or something else has left everybody too confused to stay in a family
relation I teach you how to accept confusion as your destiny. That’s
the first lesson I teach.
(more…)

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