But an “F” for 21st Century Education
Most P.E. teachers now resemble NCAA coaches in quick-dry, school logo regalia, and the sweaty outdoor feats can be achieved through “online P.E.”
Today’s experience thus lacks the paper and ink that lent both precision and finality to the labors of students and teachers. What now exists in the glitchy haze of digital notifications and maddening logins was, just 20 years ago, presented with handwritten—if perhaps disheartening—clarity. The school experience for both students and parents has metastasized into a digital disease that hollows out both brains and souls, all under the guise of “21st Century education.”
A couple days ago, I received an email informing me that I had a message in a special app called “ParentSquare”. In this special app—not in regular, low-tech email—the teacher had written an important message about my daughter’s schoolwork So, the email was a digital middleman that informed me of a message in a completely separate digital system. The email then repeated the contents of the app’s message anyways, making the separate app completely unnecessary. Confused? Me too.
You might wonder why an important message to or from a teacher could not be delivered through old-fashioned, direct email, without the redundancy of the fancy gatekeeper app. You might wonder what’s wrong with regular email—that breakthrough invention that supposedly enabled quicker business communication. If so, you wouldn’t be alone; most parents wonder these things, too.
Alas, things have changed for American education, and copious data suggests none of it is for the better. I’m not statistician, but I’ve noticed a couple things. First, schools are more expensive and tech-driven than ever, with textbooks and attention spans slowly disappearing from classrooms. Second, students are dumber and more out-of-shape than ever, belying the promises of special taxes and funding drives for the new technology and fancy gyms now nearly ubiquitous in American schools.
Something real has been lost in the rush to upgrade K-12 schools into campuses that rival community colleges. I’d say they’re a bit too smart for their own good. Members of the football team now look like sponsored athletes, with an array of warm-up gear suitable for a Nike campaign. It’s not just the kids getting fancy, though; where are the wrestling coaches wandering campus in their double-knit polyester shorts? These guys once doubled as physical education teachers and had us running the mile and climbing wooden walls in street shoes—feats many students are able to avoid nowadays. Most P.E. teachers now resemble NCAA coaches in quick-dry, school logo regalia, and the sweaty outdoor feats can be achieved through “online P.E.”
How about the other suffering that made us strong—the bulky textbooks with student names inscribed inside the front cover, or school lunches with only basic selections, including the world’s best rectangular pizza? I even miss the smell of damp, blue printer ink, the pink carbon-copy report card, and the very rare need to meet with teachers. It isn’t just a sentimental idea, either; paper and pencil make better brains. One of my kids desperately needed help with his math practice “sheet” a while back; when I went to help him, the “sheet” was on his screen, sending me on an education diatribe.
Today’s experience thus lacks the paper and ink that lent both precision and finality to the labors of students and teachers. What now exists in the glitchy haze of digital notifications and maddening logins was, just 20 years ago, presented with handwritten—if perhaps disheartening—clarity. The school experience for both students and parents has metastasized into a digital disease that hollows out both brains and souls, all under the guise of “21st Century education.”
Be seeing you
MCViewPoint 