I became a pre-k through 8th grade teacher in the mid-1980s. I was literally in the last teacher education cohort who was expected to learn how to teach science, music, art, physical education, special education, make puppets out of Pop-Tart boxes, create math manipulatives, and fill a classroom with interdisciplinary projects. Teacher preparation was equal parts art and science. Then around 1985, a couple of years after A Nation at Risk, legislatures around the world declared, “Teaching ain’t nothin’,” and replaced rich and varied teacher education curricula with Animal Control and Curriculum Delivery.
Today, anyone who has ever been a billionaire or 7-11 night manager can run the US Department of Education or be a superintendent of schools, while well-prepared and experienced educators are met with suspicion and derision. We say that, “we stand on the shoulders of giants,” but ask a room full of school leaders how many of the authors in this reading list they have read and prepare to be stunned by the blank stares. Suggest any teaching practice not sold by Pearson and you’re likely to have a school principal reply, “Oh! You mean like Montessori?” Quite simply, unqualified is the new qualified.
Elementary teaching has been narrowed and departmentalized in ways that make it as ineffective as high school. Truly getting to know each child and to engage them in meaning making through interdisciplinary projects has been the first casualty of the assault on the art of teaching. As teacher agency has eroded through mistrust, prescriptive curriculum, and standardized testing, teachers become less, not more, thoughtful in their practice. When you mechanize teaching and place it under constant surveillance, teaching quality becomes less human, rewarding, joyful, creative, and more compliant.
Over the past thirty years, educators have lost control, freedom, and memory of classic pedagogical practices. During my work in classrooms around the world, I am often struck by how teachers are unaware of teaching practices I have long taken for granted. For example, I just assumed that every teacher knew about classroom centers, could defend their use, and make them a staple of each learning environment. I was wrong. That’s one of the reasons I wrote “Thoughts on Classroom Centers,” although I would still love to find the seminal work(s) on the topic.
While mentioning this lingering question to one of my heroes, Deborah Meier, she suggested I ask Renée Dinerstein. (I intend to) Ms. Dinnerstein is the author of a fine new book, Choice Time – How to Deepen Learning Through Inquiry and Play, PreK-2. The book focuses on the critical element of student choice and what they do during learner-centered classroom time. Classroom centers are the magic carpet of choice time.
I just purchased the book and cannot recommend it highly enough. It is a beautiful guide filled with clear and practical advice for teachers without being condescending or treating its readers like imbeciles. The book is not 500 pages of jargon and reproducibles, but rather 165 pages of inspiration intended to rekindle creative teaching in order to create more productive contexts for learning by children. It also helps teachers observe and understand the thinking of each child.
Although it says that the book’s wiscom is intended for PK-2nd grade, I would recomment the book to teachers at any grade level.
The author maintains a web site, investigatingchoicetime.com, intended to extend the inspiration shared in the book.