Lesson Six: The Great Gatsby

The Great Gatsby

by F. Scott Fitzgerald

Lesson: Don’t live in the past.

Of the “lessons” thus far, this may be the most true to what the author intended, but it’s important. I can’t for the life of me find it, but I read a fantastic article written by a veteran who implored other veterans to not make their deployment(s) the most significant thing they ever do in their life. Don’t be that guy who sneaks “When I was in Iraq/Afghanistan/the military” into every…single…conversation. The “thank me for my service” guys.

Her husband, among various physical accomplishments, had been one of the most powerful ends that ever
played football at New Haven – a national figure in a way, one of those men who reach such an acute limited
excellence at twenty−one that everything afterward savors of anti−climax.

Same goes for any other wonderful accomplishment from your youth. You got into a great college. You played a sport at a competitive level. You were published. You saved an orphan from a burning bus. You toured with Weezer. Et cetera. I don’t mean to be dismissive of service and success. I mean to say, by canonizing things that have already happened, then you live in a space that no longer exists. It’s all make-believe. For better or worse, you’re not that person anymore. It’s a part of what formed you, but it’s not you.

For the record, I enjoyed The Great Gatsby the first time I read it, and loathed reading it every time since, primarily because just about every character is a slave to their past. It’s gross. Don’t be that person.

Lesson Five: You were probably taught “Of Mice and Men” incorrectly

Of Mice and Men

by John Steinbeck

Lesson: Control your destiny.

“The American Dream is that dream of a land in which life should be better and richer and fuller for everyone, with opportunity for each according to ability or achievement.” James Truslow Adams

Sparknotes cites “The Impossibility of the American Dream” as one of the central themes of Steinbeck’s Of Mice and Men; and, without googling it, I’m fairly certain that was what Steinbeck himself said he was going for when he wrote the book. I happen to be one of those people who believe the author is dead once the piece is published – that is, Steinbeck has a right to comment on the work, but his comments ought not be weighed any more or less than anyone else with a reasonable interpretation. And I believe Steinbeck is wrong, and that his own work may not  demonstrate how the American Dream is alive and well, but it does demonstrate that our choices matter.

Curley’s wife, for instance, has resigned herself to an unfulfilling marriage.

Curley’s wife, at some point in her life, chose to marry the narcissistic, Napoleon-complexed son of the wealthy plantation owner. She chose not to chase her dreams as a movie star. She chose to flirt with the farmhands, instead of redirecting her energy towards building or repairing her marriage. She chose to stay in a marriage in which she was miserable (divorce was not simple back then, nor was it impossible). She chose to resign herself to being unfulfilled. She chose the easy-wrong over the courageous-right at every step. Her life was not the failure of the American Dream. She had more opportunity than most, and she chose not to take advantage of those opportunities.

George and Lennie’s dream of owning a farm, which would enable them to sustain themselves, and, most important, offer them protection from an inhospitable world, represents a prototypically American ideal. Their journey, which awakens George to the impossibility of this dream, sadly proves that the bitter Crooks is right: such paradises of freedom, contentment, and safety are not to be found in this world.

If Steinbeck’s argument is that the American Dream is impossible, then my counterpoint is that our choices matter. George is capable of making decisions, and Lennie is at the mercy of the decisions George makes. That’s because George is a human and Lennie is, basically, an animal (Steinbeck uses animal imagery throughout to describe Lennie). People can make decisions, for example, they can eschew immediate gratification in exchange for achieving long-term goals. Animals cannot. George was in a terrible situation. We don’t know if he simply lost the lottery of birth, or if he made a bunch of bad life-choices, but he was broke and transient. Then, an amazing opportunity fell into his lap. George knows of a small farm for a fair price. He is employed, and several of the other hardest-luck cases (Candy and Crooks) agree to go in on it with him. They do the math, and figure that after one month of work, they’d be able to put a down payment on the farm.

They have one month to save their money, and independence, self-reliance, home, and community could be theirs. A chapter later, George is spending all of his money in the cat house, along with the rest of the farmhands. His decision not only self-sabotages, he is also letting down men who depend on him – men who actually didn’t have much access to the American Dream, at least not without help. How in the world is this the fault of The American Dream? George had a shot and he blew it.


Candy, Crooks, and Lennie didn’t have much, if any, access to the American Dream. If you were born black, or severely mentally retarded, or crippled, in the 1930s, then your options were extremely limited. I’m not arguing that everyone is born with equal levels of privilege. Some of us are born into absolute tragedy, and then our lives get worse from there. Some of us have absolutely no hope for a normalcy or traditional success. That’s not the same thing as saying “The American Dream is dead” and success and contentment cannot be found in this world by anybody. What a strange argument. Because if the dream of meritocracy – a fuller, more successful life, for those who are capable and industrious – is dead, then that means our choices have no impact on our lives.

That’s quantifiably not true. Anyone trying to sell you on the idea that you have no control over your own destiny is the devil.


Sixteen Lessons I’ve Learned Teaching Literature

When I was in high school, I asked my English teacher, “What’s the point of English class? How is “reading stories” a subject?” Her answer was lame: we read stories to build our vocabulary and so we have something to write or speak about. This helps prepare us for college.

I wasn’t sure how to articulate the question, and I honestly didn’t know the answer; but English class seemed really out of place, and besides, I was confused how one might “teach” something as personal and subjective as literature. That isn’t to say that every answer is a right answer, or that because there may be multiple ways of receiving a story that any way of receiving a story is valid. It is to say that, as far as I can tell, the only true way to discuss and write about literature and to arrive at a single grade for students, that is perceived as fair, is to test on structural elements, such as literary terms and vocabulary, or to construct detailed writing rubrics, which necessarily narrows the diversity of thought and expression.

This is probably why English classes are gravitating towards nonfiction writing. First, it’s easier to create meaningful and fair assessments using nonfiction text (although some of the same problems exist). Second, there is a gross underestimation as to the purpose of literature. I think most people would say that reading fiction or narrative nonfiction is for entertainment, or to build the kind of vocabulary that better prepares you for the SATs. Those are both true statements, but statements that vastly understates the significance of literature.

Most learning comes from experience, but there are things that we literally can’t, or wouldn’t want to, experience. Stories act as vicarious experience. We can’t go back and experience the 17th century, and most of us don’t have the experience of being a double amputee. This we could roughly categorize as “experiences of the physical realm.” Stories, like art and performance in general, also work as apertures into the nonphysical realm. It’s the closest thing to prayer that you’ll get in a public school. Or, if the idea of prayer makes you feel icky, it’s the closest thing to drawing a personal connection to the collective consciousness of all humanity, and humanity’s place within the physical and nonphysical world, both today and for all of history. Stories are peepholes that allow you to catch a glimpse of divinity. Fiction isn’t “fake.” Stories aren’t “made up.” They get to the root of who we are and the possibilities of what we may be.

It’s also overly simplistic to reduce books to a series of “lessons learned” but I’m going to do it anyway. For one, it’s fun. For another, I’ve learned a lot by “teaching” stories – way more than I ever did reading them, which is a lesson in itself. Enjoy!

How do recent graduates perceive high school – commentary

Here are three conclusions that I have come to based on a survey I gave which aimed to answer the question “How do recent high school graduates perceive high school?” (some caveats, along with the raw data, here):


Respondents’ feelings towards high school are inconsistent.

When asked what the first three words are that come to mind when thinking about high school, 41% of the words were positively connotated (e.g. fun, friends, exciting, informative), 24% were negatively connotated (e.g. boring, isolating, cruel, torture), and 35% had a neutral connotation (e.g. homework, class, rugby, ESL). In terms of this question, as well as viewing the survey as a whole, about a third of respondents gave contradicting answers in their responses. Examples include:


Fun; isolating

Hard; Easy; Fulfilling; Unnecessary

Fun; fear

[What I loved most was] teachers; [the worst thing about school was my] teacher was rude to me


Again, referring to the question that asked what the first three words are that come to mind when thinking about high school, one respondent answered boring, boring, boring; that same person claimed that gym class was the only thing they loved about school. Another respondent, who loved being able to take AP/IB classes and participate in after-school clubs, cited gym class as the thing they most hated about high school. Several people mentioned how unnecessarily long and tedious school is, both in terms of the school day and the full four years, and (I believe related) most valued human relationships and control over the curriculum – even as the second most common thread, it still was only true that 72% of respondents cited friends or teachers as the most valued aspect of their high school experience, and for some of them, those were also their most hated aspect of high school. For example, one respondent cited friends and being social as the aspects of high school that they loved the most, but also resented having to be forced into contact with people: many times you had to be in a group whether or not you fit in as the aspect they hated the most.


Most respondents see more value in human relationships than in curriculum.

Of all the respondents, 72% reported relationships with people (usually friends, sometimes teachers or teachers and friends) as a valuable aspect of high school. One respondent, who described high school as intense, amazing, growth, wrote that she loved:

The opportunity to travel, the chance to make friends from around the world, the people (especially the staff)

although she also admitted:

[What I hated the most about high school was] the ‘culture’ surrounding the things I participated in. When I think about the things I did, it was very inaccessible to many of the students in my high school. A lot of the extracurriculars were expensive, the classes were advertised as elite and for ‘smart kids’. Therefore the representation within these classes was limited. (Mind you, my school was very ‘diverse’)

and two out of three changes she would make are curricular:

First, I would have more practical class options (how to file your taxes, current affairs, math for entrepreneurship etc); Second, I would give more money to the debate program (I think all students should have access to activities that allow them to critically thinking about given subjects and topics from two different perspectives…and clearly articulate this)

Many of the 72% simply wrote friends or teachers as things they loved the most about school. It was fairly typical for respondents to be more critical of the actual school programming, more so than of peer socialization or relationships with teachers:

I didn’t learn practical skills that I could use today. I still don’t really know how to do my taxes.


[I loved] the friendships and relationships I made; [I hated] how unnecessary a lot of [high school is]


A lot of classes that I took were useless to me.


lots of busy work and not much respect for ambition


High school hardly exposed me to any career options, or to what the real world was going to be like. Also, every class lacked substance. I felt like I was taught to memorize and spit back a lot of information, but I was never asked to think about life or values or any other serious conversation. [I hated being] stressed out by things that were really inconsequential.

Respondents generally prefer freedom to choose what to learn and which classes to take, and are happier when they exercise the limited power that they do have over their curriculum.

When asked the question, “Should students have the freedom to decide how to spend their time while in school?”, 78% (n=25) answered yes and 22% (n=7) answered no. Also, respondents who stated or implied that they were in ESL, AP, IB, or explorations programs, which are all classes that have (at least the perception) of student choice, were also more likely to have a favorable view of school, overall (ESL isn’t always “voluntary”, but if you’re responding to this survey in English, my assumption is at some point you wanted to learn English, and would have elected to take ESL classes. I admit this is an inference, not hard data). Many respondents mentioned a lack of curricular choice as a negative aspect of school throughout the survey, not just in the final few questions that directly addressed this topic. 

Below is a fairly representative sample of reasons respondents gave for answering no:

A respondent, who revealed that she is going to school to be a teacher, had concerns about social media addiction:

Knowing students at this point in time, even including myself, we are all attached to our phones, laptops or any other device. By giving students the freedom to decide what they do with their time, I won’t deny that some of them would study, but some other, they would be all day in their phones.

Another respondent was more direct:

You go to school to study not to have a good time.

One respondent admitted (which I found incredibly interesting, in light of the over 5,000 hours one spends in high school):

It really doesn’t matter either way.


A fairly representative sample of respondents who answered yes:

teachers should be there to help students navigate school – not to personally drive them through it. Students are fully capable of driving themselves to answers and revelations; they may just need a little push in the right direction.

One respondent, who wrote that being stuck in class was the aspect of high school that she hated the most, that school didn’t prepare her for a good life, and that every year was the same as the last, also said:

Explorations [an off-campus apprenticeship program] senior year in an architecture firm. I worked on one project the whole year with 3 other students. And two of the employees there were our mentors. We then presented our project to a bunch of professionals at the company who critiqued us. It taught me teamwork, presentations skills, and a bit about what I do and don’t enjoy professionally, and also made for good recommendation letters.

[High school] needs to cater more to individual students and their different abilities and ways of learning. For example, I always had good grades in all my classes. I was always in AP and honors and did well. But I skipped classes a lot because being tied down for four years to the same thing was so boring. If I had more of a choice I think I wouldn’t have done that. Skipping class made me feel like I had more control – and I didn’t care that I skipped because I was still able to get the grades I wanted. Some people learn great by reading a book and listening to a teacher and taking an exam, but some students get bored of sitting still and doing the same thing for four years. There should be an option. I could have learned and passed with flying colors everything I did in high school in two years instead of four. The other two years should have been spent with something hands on, more active, and more interesting. It would definitely have done a lot more to help with the real world and college.

High school does not teach enough critical thinking skills – if it did it would have more of an impact on people.

Another student, who had previously described high school as trash and limiting, reported:

I think if we let students explore more via electives at the high school level, it will save them time and money in college

I hated reading in school, but now I LOVE it, books are the only windows into finding a better future. I would have kids read more personal development books and less “literature”. Authors like Malcolm Gladwell and Cal Newport will have more of an impact at a developmental stage than Shakespeare.



It’s ironic to me that so many respondents found personal relationships with friends the most rewarding part of high school, considering it has been my observation that teachers spend a considerable amount of time and energy keeping students from socializing and instead, focused on the very important task of learning those things that respondents largely found irrelevant.

Perhaps the best way to transform high school into something more universally and consistently valuable would be to allow students to define the terms of their own graduation. The median age of the respondents was 22 years old – enough time had gone by for them to think about the impact of high school, but not so long that they forgot many details. Many of them reflected that control over what goes into their brain and freedom of association with friends and adults would add considerable value to their high school experience, and that the majority of actual instruction is mostly a waste.

A second, more practical option, is described in great detail in the second half of my book. In a nutshell – even in the state of New York, with its draconian public school requirements, it is possible to offer much more freedom and choice to students and staff, while still meeting state and union requirements. It would take considerable trust between administrators, teachers, the school board, and the community, as well as a deeply held belief that the student is the most important aspect of the learning process…but it can be done.


The culmination of these seemingly insignificant choices will define you

I believe it’s the culmination of life’s seemingly insignificant choices that will define me as a person. This strikes me as significant, in terms of being the primary male role model for my sons. Here are choices that I have decided are simple to understand, rewarding though difficult to live by, and are worthy of putting out into the universe:

  1. I can control what I can control, and I can discern that which is within my control. I can control my attitude towards that which I cannot control, so therefore, everything is to an extent within my control.
  2. I know when to go with the flow, and when to swim against the current. Stillness and action are both virtues, when timed correctly.
  3. I am a seeker. I understand that my perception of truth is not truth, but even still, that is not an excuse for ignorance. I discriminate value from rubbish. I am principled, but am willing to test those principles against anything. I am not scared to listen to either irreverent or mainstream ideas. Virtually nothing offends me.

The five things that I will explicitly teach my boys

My wife Ramita and I don’t “unschool” our five- and seven-year-old boys in the strictest sense, but I’d say our family has the spirit of self-direction. With the exception of violin, we don’t go out of our way to give them structured lessons in anything that they don’t ask for. We read to them almost every day, we try to get outside as much as we can, and we put them in sports and swimming lessons, all of which they look forward to and love. They do math worksheets, puzzles, writing, science, and lately a ton of sewing and embroidering, all on their own.

That said, there are five things I’m going to explicitly teach my boys, with or without their consent – and not just a single lesson, but many sneaky little lessons. I’ll slip into their psyche like a ninja and calibrate their sense of normalcy, without their permission, even if I have to give up my Self-Directed-Educator’s-Card to do it.

For ease of understanding, I’ve put the lessons’ content objective in red.

War Memorials & War Movies

The first time I ever really noticed how many statues commemorating war there are in our area was two summers ago. My oldest was in an art class, so I took my youngest on a walk around the city. There were at least six in a half mile radius. Now that I’m paying attention, there are war memorials everywhere.

I’m not hating on veterans (I am one). I’m just saying – is there any other possible thing in our community we could commemorate? A philanthropist? An explorer? An inventor? A self-made millionaire? A poet? Anything?

I know boys crave adventure, excitement, and risk. I know I did, and I know my boys do. They are already asking me about war, and telling me that they can’t wait to go themselves, and I’ve literally told them nothing about my experience. I’m firmly against this country’s never-ending aggression and occupation of countries that have no means of attacking us; however, the military often is a valuable experience for young people. It was for me. On the other hand, it doesn’t have to be the only option on the table. There are dozens of ways that a boy can become a man besides military service, but that’s hard to see when you’re raised in the shadow of thirty foot tall war memorials.

Social Media & Dopamine

It is very possible that I am wrong on this one. I say that because there are many people in the SDE world, who I consider to be extremely intelligent and well-read, who believe that the dangers of screen time for kids is overblown, and that most kids will learn to self-regulate after a few days or weeks of over-indulging. Maybe that’s more true of video games than it is of social media (Peter Gray argues for the cognitive benefits of playing video games). I don’t play video games anymore, but I played plenty as a kid, and I doubt as though they are tearing away the fabric of society. However, if the argument is that social media is completely innocuous, then I disagree – that is, it may be true that some kids can do that, but I don’t think most can (many adults struggle, too). I can boil it down to two points:

  1. There are people who are being paid millions of dollars whose expressed job is to get you to stay on social media for as long as possible. They are exploiting dopamine loops and literally rewiring your brain. These are brilliant people whose job it is to alter your chemistry to make it more difficult to put down your device. I don’t think kids have a realistic chance at resisting this
  2. Many of the top paid tech people do not allow their kids to have devices, do not use social media themselves, and send their kids to Waldorf schools. Don’t trust a skinny chef.


“We compound the problem. We curate our lives around this perceived sense of perfection because we get rewarded in these short-term signals – hearts, likes, thumbs-up – and we conflate that with value and we conflate it with truth. And instead what it really is is fake, brittle popularity, that’s short-term, and that leaves you – admit it – more vacant and empty than before you did it. Because then it forces you into this vicious cycle of ‘what’s the next thing I have to do now?’…You don’t realize it, but you are being programmed.” ~Chamath Palihapitiya

College Loans & Credit Cards

You sign on for a hundred grand or more in student loans and you are agreeing to serfdom. Credit cards are poisonous. I don’t feel like I need to explain these points further.

Fast Food & Other Garbage

Similar to the screen time/dopamine argument – a young kid or a teenager has no defense against sugar. We are programmed genetically to like sweet and salty, but that was never a problem because in our evolutionary past we could never get our hands on too much of it. Now they dump forty grams of sugar or so in a soda, which is basically just water and carbonation, and charge a couple bucks for it. How are you supposed to fight that as a seven year old? You can’t, and that’s not an accident. They want you hooked. According to the .gov, a third of Americans are obese. BMI is unreliable, so call it a quarter of us, if you’d like. Fast food and other manufacturers of garbage food care about how much of their product you buy, not about your health.

Automotive Safety

OK, so not as sexy as war memorials, but a huge concern. When I let my kids outside by themselves, which I think is important, I’m not worried about sexual predators or kidnappers even a hundredth of how much I worry about them getting hit by a car. When they get older, odds are that they or a friend will have the urge to drive recklessly. When I was fifteen, I told my parents I was going one place and I wound up going another. I got into a car with a sixteen-year-old who, long story short, flipped the car over twice. My hand got caught between the roof of the car and the road, although somehow all I lost was a fingernail. We were both extremely fortunate, however, nothing can change your life quicker, and more permanently, than a bad car accident.

What secondary school could learn from Joe Rogan


“Here’s the craziest thing about life. This is the thing that nobody really considers: You know as much about what life is all about as anybody who’s ever lived, ever. That’s the craziest thing about us. We’re all just kinda wandering through this, going, “You know what you’re doing?” “Yes” “Oh, I do, too. I know what I’m doing.” “Okay. Good, then.” But really no one has a fucking clue.” ~Joe Rogan


The Joe Rogan Experience podcast is a long form conversation hosted by comedian, UFC color commentator, and actor Joe Rogan with friends and guests that have included comedians, actors, musicians, MMA instructors and commentators, authors, artists, and porn stars. By “long form” they mean up to three hours of conversation. It’s a wildly popular podcast – Rogan has said he gets thirty million downloads a month. Besides the content itself, there are a number of things that schools could learn from the Joe Rogan Experience:

It’s three hours of conversation

Joe Rogan’s audience are obviously not a bunch of dummies, but there’s nothing to suggest they are all serious academics. About 10% of us have been diagnosed with ADHD, so out of thirty million downloads a month there may be three million who have been told they can’t sit still without medication, listening to up to three hours of Joe chatting with hunters, fighters, musicians, professors, scientists, authors, medical doctors, conspiracy theorists, actors, and all manner of folks who have been fired from their jobs. At thirty million downloads a month, statistically speaking, most listeners are probably just regular, everyday, curious people.

What schools could learn from this is that it’s not necessary to structure secondary classes at 45 minutes each, with five minutes of an “anticipatory set/do-now”, ten minutes “direct instruction”, fifteen minutes “release the lesson”, ten minutes of assessment, and five minutes for an “exit ticket.” In school, it’s common practice to not stay on one thing for any amount of time, because the assumption is that teenagers are incapable of focus. Teenagers are definitely more impulsive and (especially young men) more prone to risk-taking than grown adults, but I’d argue that they are more adult than child. I’ve run an after school program that was basically a “Socratic Seminar” that lasted for three hours at a time, and the fifteen-years-olds reported that time flew by.

In other words, they aren’t antsy because they are incapable – they are antsy because (mostly) they are being forced to engage with irrelevant and uninteresting factoids that are completely devoid of context.

Rogan is not married to a particular line of questioning

The word “knowledge” actually means “to take some action with the things we know” and had a spiritual or religious connotation (from https://www.etymonline.com/word/knowledge):

“early 12c., cnawlece ‘acknowledgment of a superior, honor, worship;’ for first element see know (v.). The second element is obscure, perhaps from Scandinavian and cognate with the -lock ‘action, process,'”

Rogan has boundless, genuine curiosity – I believe that’s how he’s attracted such an eclectic mix of guests on his show. I also believe that’s part of the reason why so many people tune in – we are all curious creatures, by nature. However, he has also embraced this definition of “knowledge.” He does not abstain from facts – he has an assistant who fact-checks online in real time. But his show isn’t simply a lecture on the things that we all already could find on a google search. It is an action or a process, such as a journey, with his guests and with facts as we know them. He positions himself as a seeker as opposed to a knower, which I believe is both a more enlightened, and a more pragmatic, way to approach education.

What schools need to recognize is that we’re doing the opposite. We are positioning ourselves as knowers (“content experts”) who have an agenda for students (“content and skill objectives”) and we already know the answers to the test that’s coming at the end of the unit. It’s all a dead end.

I don’t want to give the wrong idea – we don’t want to Socratic-seminar our way through brain surgery or piloting a jet. But we only have one brain, one body, and five senses, with which to experience this universe. These are ultimately our tools for doing things such as surgery on brains. We aren’t computers to be programmed – we’re humans, and as the word “knowledge” once connoted, it is a form of honor and worship to take the things we know and to have sport with them.

It’s consensual

Nobody has ever tried to bribe or threaten me with grades, detention, suspension, or “honor roll juice and bagels” to coerce me into listening to an episode of the Joe Rogan Experience. Somehow, despite the conspicuous lack of a report card, JRE gets thirty million downloads a month.

The Ideal Public Education System Would Allow Students to Define Their Own Graduation

The Ideal Public Education System Would Allow Students to Define Their Own Graduation

In New York, where I teach, High School students are required to accumulate these 22 credits (one credit equals one year) in order to graduate:

  • English (4)
  • Social Studies (US History (1) Participation in Government (1/2) Economics (1/2) Other (2)= 4 total)
  • Science (Life Science (1 or 2) Physical Science (1 or 2) = 3 total)
  • Mathematics (3)
  • Languages other than English (1)
  • Visual Art, Music, Dance, Theater (1)
  • Physical Education (2)
  • Health (1/2)
  • Electives (3 ½)
    • = 22 Credits

In addition to these 22 credits, students must take and pass five regents examinations with a 65% or higher: English, Math, Global History, US History, and Science. There are some exceptions to these rules, and I admit that graduation criteria in New York are less flexible than many other states. However, there is no state (that I’m aware of) that allows students (in conjunction with their families, mentors, and the school) to define their own graduation.

The ideal public education system would allow students to define their own graduation:

  1. Note the specific and arbitrary nature of these graduation requirements, as in the number of credits, the subjects, even the number of years in school. This creates an environment that naturally favors some students over others in terms of interests and aptitudes, and leaves no room for flexibility (how absurd is it that, all else being equal, 3 English credits and 4 Math credits means you don’t graduate). Students are held up from internships and CTE due to, e.g., a single science credit. Also, as it stands now, academic subjects are heavily favored over the arts and physical education (see Ken Robinson if you haven’t already). That being said, I wouldn’t be happy if the script flipped and 15 of the credits were in the arts and 3 credits were required in traditional academics, because that’s just doing the same thing differently. It makes no sense that a single governing agency gets to decide specifically and arbitrarily what every student in New York has to sit through, and for how long and to what standards.
  2. There is nothing wrong with any of the things listed in the requirements, or their accompanying standards. There is nothing wrong with tests, per se, although these Regents exams have many structural flaws. That they exist isn’t the problem; that they are required, by someone else, for you, is. Consent is necessary for a respectful educational experience, and I don’t see any way around it: if we are to maintain a system of public schooling, but introduce the concepts of consent and mutual respect, then we must allow students, in conjunction with families etc., to define their own graduation requirements.
  3. Public school funding calculations derive, in large part (usually), from the number of students enrolled. The onus would then be on the school to create interesting, useful, and otherwise worthwhile programming that students would choose and thus remain in school; or else, if nothing important was happening on their schedule, they’d graduate themselves. Conversely, schools would have the power to offer those kinds of interesting things, because they wouldn’t be tethered to specific and arbitrary requirements.
  4. What about college? Colleges still have admissions officers, and students are still willing and eager to further their education. Those students will continue to skew towards an academic track – no need to panic, algebra and Shakespeare will likely remain somewhere in the book of course offerings. I work a lot with refugees and ENL students – many of them seem to find comfort in the familiarity of a traditional, classical education, as found in many places in Asia. “High performers” in the existing system will continue to be high performers in my proposed system, with the added benefit that students who don’t fit the classic school mold will also be high performers, in their own right.
  5. What about poor kids? School people (teachers, administrators, etc.) typically want what’s best for kids. The institution of school wants four year graduation rates to be at a certain percentage, and pressures the humans that it pays to achieve it, often by any means necessary. In my proposed system, where students may define their own graduation, graduation rates would effectively be at 100%. School systems could then stop doing data yoga for the sake of metrics, and school people could get back to the business of helping kids.

I welcome your thoughts 🙂



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Anything else would be uncivilized!