Pencil Island - Part Two

My principal pulls me aside on Tuesday afternoon.  "Techno-Tommy, we need to talk."  I appreciate the subtle warning.  Any time the word "need" is used, it means I'm in trouble.  Oddly enough, on really difficult days, when I feel the crushing blow of a broken world, I sometimes "need to talk" but I keep it to myself.  It might seem that a principal feels the same way, as if "we need to talk" could be a way of saying, "Tom, leadership is painful and lonely and I just need someone to tell me I'm doing okay."  But alas, "need to talk" is a code word for, "need to shame you in a subtle way."

"Tom, I don't like the way you talked to the consultant from Pencil Island," he says squinting through his dated monocle.

"The man's a snake oil salesman, not a consultant." I explain.

"Look, I know you don't trust businessmen, but this isn't time to pull a Coxey's Army stunt. Not all business is bad.  I don't mind if you're a Populist, but education is a business and we need to recognize it as such."

"It's not a business and I'm not an executive.  This is called public education for a reason.  I serve, because I care about my students.  I am a civil servant representing my community and I don't think my community wants to sell a child's mind to a wolf in professional clothing."

"All curriculum costs money."

"That's not the issue.  Yes, books cost money.  But this man has a whole system set up designed to teach rote skills and make him a fortune."

"Pencil Island is amazing, Tom.  Information is broken down into consumable parts for children."

"Consumable.  That's the problem.  Children should be thinking, not consuming."

"This is the Age of Industry.  We need to prepare future factory workers.  Back when we had farmers, well, it made sense to teach holistically.  But we can't.  We need compliant workers. We're pulling out of an economic panic and we have to educate our way into becoming an industrial nation."

"If that's the case, why bother with school?  I hear most factories will hire kids as young as five or six.  We won't even need to turn the school into a factory.  I think Rockefeller could hook them up with a job. Might as well start them early when their hands are nimble."

"Do you suggest that we give them an archaic education?  Set them up to be liberal arts majors.  How many jobs these days are asking for philosophy majors?"

"No, the challenge we face is giving kids a classic, holistic education within the context of our industrial age.  Setting kids down in isolation to fill out worksheet packets seems like a step in the wrong direction."

I leave the meeting wanting to slam a door, but the principal has taken the door off the hinge in an effort to create an open atmosphere.  So, I end up storming off in anger and then I feel horrible about getting so passionate about something I can't control.
 

Pencil Island

indeed, island is a perfect metaphor to describe the isolation and loneliness of worksheet learning

My principal walks into my classroom and says, "Tom, we have a consultant here who works for Pencil Island."

"Is he really a consultant or a salesman?" I ask.

"Just meet with him.  He tried sending you a telegram and you never answered."

"Sorry, I meant to go see him. My horse was broken down.  I'll . . . I'll meet with him I guess."

Minutes later, I'm ushered into a room where a smiling man in a three-piece suit is sitting down.  "I brought you some bagels and Coke. I hope you don't mind."

"I'm not sure I should be consuming cocaine on day that I have to work, but I'll have a bagel." It's strikes me that the Coca-Cola and the product he's selling aren't entirely different.  Sweet, efficient, addicting, but in the end deadly to a child.

"We have a whole system that you can use in a pencil-integrated classroom.  Imagine this: each child learns discreet skills independently.  Step-by-step they move through a sequential order designed for the mastery of each math, reading and writing skill."

"Wouldn't it make sense to have students use paper and pencil to write papers and solve equations?  What if they did some of it independently and worked cooperatively together instead?" I argue.

The consultant-snake-oil-salesman answers, "That sounds great.  But aren't you tired of kids not working?  This allows each child to work at his or her level independently.  Each time they do a worksheet correctly, you put a sticker on the paper.  If they pass all the pencil-based worksheet tests, they can earn the chance to play a pencil game. You can even allow free drawing time if you'd like."

"Do teachers need training on this?" the principal asks.

"We provide our own professional development.  However, trust me, it's a very user-friendly system. Teachers love it, because it replaces the teacher with the program.  Think of it this way.  You move from a sage on stage to a guide on the side."

Note to self: never trust people who rhyme their responses.

Don't get me wrong.  There is a time to practice discreet skills.  But it seems to me that worksheets fail to inspire.  If you aim for "basic skills" you won't hit it.  If students work on authentic pencil-integrated projects, though, and have to use critical thinking, the skills will increase along the way.

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