Take Boredom Out of Schools--and Then See What’s Left
When I think back on all the crap I learned in high school/
It’s a wonder I can think at all.
--Paul Simon, from his song,
“Kodachrome.”
*
It was my first class after lunch, which guaranteed that my stomach would be gurgling, if not my brain. Innocuously named advanced math and taught by the delightfully prim Miss Kiewit, it was intended for seniors who had aced algebra and geometry. Algebra came easily to me and I had been teacher’s pet in geometry, so I took my A’s into the advanced math maw, an hourlong survival drama five days a week that would have made a nice predator-prey segment on the Discovery Channel had it existed then.
I don’t remember Miss Kiewit or any classmate ever using the word “trigonometry,” but I eventually came to realize that’s what she was teaching. Our teacher-student relationship was more like alien-abductee. I stepped into the classroom, Miss Kiewit closed the door and whisked me to another galaxy where they talked of “sines” and “cosines,” “tangents” and “cotangents.” I heard more recognizable words in Latin class than in Miss Kiewit’s.
To this day, nearly 30 years later, I have no idea what went on inside that class. I went from straight-A math student to Gomer Pyle. My consternation at the time went beyond lack of aptitude for the subject matter. I never understood what we were trying to learn or why we needed to know it. For those of us who didn’t go on to work for the U.S. space program, trig still has no practical application that I know of. From the last day of class in 1967 to the present, I’ve never heard another human use the word “secant” in a sentence.
I am not indicting the study of mathematics or difficult subjects. I never got above a C in shop class, either, but at least my parents got a workable spice rack out of one semester. However fumble-fingered I might have been, I understood the value of learning how to pound a nail into a piece of wood.
Miss Kiewit’s class was something else. Even from my current vantage point as responsible adult and friend of education, I have to say those five hours a week (plus, minimum two hours homework a night) were utterly wasted.
Let me rephrase. Perhaps not wasted, but unwisely used.
In education, a day is a terrible thing to waste. Limited by the available hours of the school day, the name of the game must be time management.
Now that another summer is upon us and most teachers and administrators have some time to think, why not remake the school day--or, at least, tinker with it?
We’re past the point where an unsuspecting senior can get railroaded into trig class, but are there some other time-wasters out there?
In my occasional forays into remaking the universe, I’ve played with the concept of the school day. I don’t claim to know what high schoolers are thinking, but in recalling my high school days, what sticks out is the boredom. Isn’t the idea to keep the students interested in school? I never learned anything while bored.
In conceding to the new world order of MTV, then, I’d have no classes longer than 20 minutes. Teachers would be energized by the shorter class periods, because they’d be forced to streamline their lectures or presentations. Irrelevant memorization would go by the boards, replaced by practical lesson plans that stressed overriding issues.
Hold it, kids. You think you’re getting out of school sooner this way? Not a chance.
Rather than taking five subjects, I’d give you 10. My concession to you is a system that significantly reduced or eliminated homework, meaning you wouldn’t be locked in your bedroom for two to three hours a night.
What students lose in homework discipline would be offset by their paying closer attention in the shorter class periods and, ideally, spending at least a little quality time with their parents.
Under the shorter class-period plan, there wouldn’t be arguments over whether a class in arts appreciation was a luxury. Or, whether teaching a second language was a frill. Both would be mandatory and justified as preparing students for the real world.
Among other mandatory classes I’d add would be those for money management, family relationships and comparative cultures. In a county where students in a single school can come from two dozen or more countries, global awareness is necessary. And it wouldn’t come at the expense of U.S. history or other core subjects.
There may be a few bugs in my new school, but I’d have an advisory panel of my best teachers and students to work them out. Under the jazzy new format, coming to school would be cool for the first time in history.
And for you future NASA scientists, don’t worry. Trig would be available, but only on demand.
Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. Readers may reach Parsons by writing to him at the Times Orange County Edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, CA 92626, or calling (714) 966-7821.
