Smrt Lernins

Michael Smith, author of several books geared towards public school teachers, principals, and administrators, and a school superintendent himself, thinks we should stop teaching kids how to write, type correctly, or spell. He also suggests we don’t need to teach the periodic table of elements, how to use a dictionary, the memorization of “useless” facts like the state capitals, or poetry.

Before I address his specific complaints, I’d like to make it clear that I have very little respect for anyone (let alone an educator) who brags that he made 12 typos in the writing of his blog post and was able to fix them with spell-check. Was I supposed to applaud? Is “Bad Educator” going to be the new “Bad Mom” trend? Considering how insufferable I find those Bad Moms who play up how disengaged they are with their children, how badly/frequently/proudly they’ve screwed up, and how much time their kids are likely to spend in therapy, I’m not on the short list of people who are going to line up to praise Bad Educator.

Consider yourself informed that I didn’t read Smith’s blog with a particularly open mind. Much of what he writes just reinforces my sense of relief that my child isn’t in public school. I think he’s an anti-intellectual and isn’t nearly as funny as he believes himself to be. On the whole, he pisses me off, so here are a few of his bones, from which I am picking the meat. Smith writes:

Penmanship is rarely used by most adults. Unless they are signing their name, so spending hundreds of hours teaching children how to make the perfect “Q” in cursive could be a waste of time.

Rarely used by some adults. Other adults use it quite often. I personally do a lot of my first drafts in longhand. My husband has to take legible notes when he’s out on call (good thing they’re legible, too, because sometimes he calls home for information and I have to retrieve it from his notebooks). It’s also pretty hard to take thorough notes on a laptop while trying to read from a large textbook. Take notes during a lecture, sure, but I can barely fit my laptop and, say, Bevington’s Complete Works of Shakespeare on my desk at the same time, let alone use the laptop to take good notes from the Bevington. Legible handwriting is also very important during the moony teen years, because only cursive can truly impart the angst and passion of teenage poetry. Typing simply will not cut it.

There are benefits to teaching proper handwriting that extend beyond writing letters or poetry or notes, however. It’s a way to develop fine motor skills (a different set from those used in typing). A 2006 study found an increase in letter confusion (specifically mixing letters up with their mirrors, d and b, for example) among those who first learned the letter through typing, and that the “stability of the characters’ representation in memory depends on the nature of the motor activity produced during learning.” In other words, writing letters by hand, not typing, more firmly and accurately implanted the letters into the memory. Handwriting, particularly cursive, stimulates the frontal cortex in a profound, lasting, and measurable (via PET scan) way, not only helping the student retain that skill, but greasing the pathways for later learning.

Keyboarding? Haven’t we progressed past the point of controlling our students by making them sit straight up and down with both feet on the floor while they type? I don’t know of any former students who have computer skills and weren’t hired for a job because they didn’t type fast enough or use the proper technique. Last time I checked, most elementary students know their way around a keyboard.

A) “Controlling our students?” Really, Michael Smith? Really?

B) We haven’t progressed past the point of back problems, carpal tunnel, or a host of other posture-related health problems that are in large part the result of incorrect body and arm positioning at the keyboard. Why not help our kids develop the muscle memory to hold their bodies in a more optimal position while typing and help decrease their risk of these conditions? When I’m having back/hip pain or my wrists are starting to hurt, I’m always amazed (though no longer surprised) by how much better I feel when I put my feet flat on the floor, sit up with a straight back, and position my hands properly on the keys.

C) He’s never met anyone who wasn’t hired for a job because they lacked adequate typing speed? I suppose none of his students have ever been an administrative/personal assistant, then, as typing speed is still pretty important. When being hired for data entry jobs, as well, the ability to quickly and accurately enter the data actually plays a role in getting the job. In my line of work (writing/editing), speed and accuracy in typing may not be a determining factor in getting a contract, but definitely can mean the difference between meeting deadlines (and getting paid) or not, between turning in usable work or not. The faster and more accurately I could type, the more contracts I could take, the more work I could do, and the more money I could make.

D) Captain Science has been using a keyboard since he was 2 or 3. He still has to hunt and peck when asked to type an essay. Playing games online requires the mouse and a few keys, while writing papers takes the full keyboard and very little mouse usage. Please don’t confuse computer gaming proficiency with typing proficiency. Or, as the Nana so eloquently put it, “There is a vast difference in the keyboarding skills needed to hack NASA and the skills needed to write an eloquent term paper.”

Lastly, what’s with all the time on spelling? Do we really need to know how to spell in this day and age? Can’t we just come close when we are typing and then let the computer correct us? During the typing of this blog, I misspelled 12 words. Maybe it’s my keyboarding skills, maybe I’m just stupid.

Oh yes! Let’s just let the machines do all the thinking for us. What could possibly go wrong?

I’m dumbfounded by Michael Smith’s hoisting of the banners of “Meh. Close enough.” Here you have an educator who is not only not particularly concerned that we are, as a nation, becoming dumber (or maybe, to be more fair, lowering our expectations and then falling to meet them), but is actually encouraging it! While I don’t think spelling is a barometer of intelligence (I know of one incredibly gifted girl who struggles with spelling, but excels in practically everything else), I do think that spelling has an important place in a well-rounded education. Far from being a mere “exercise in confusion” that we should get rid of, as Smith extols in another post, or foist off on a computer game (really? do we need less human interaction in education?), spelling teaches patterns, reveals roots of words, and allows for a tremendous degree of playfulness with language. A spell-check program can’t tell which of a set of homophones is appropriate in a given context. Did you really mean that kind of meat, Mr. Smith?

Stop with the memorizing state capitals. [...] If you find yourself desperately needing to know the capital of Delaware… look it up. [..]]I haven’t even gotten to the Periodic Table, poetry [...]

How trendy! Someone in education knocking the value of memorization!

Of course, many professions require an extensive amount of memorization. Think of what doctors have to memorize to graduate medical school, of the laws and cases lawyers must remember to pass their bar exams, of the codes and pathways that programmers must remember. If college is the first time in your life you’re called upon to memorize a large amount of information, you’re going to be in for a real treat.

Smith mentions poetry as one of the things to ditch from education. Memorizing poetry isn’t just a tedious task for filling classroom hours. Poetry teaches us about language patterns, stimulates parts of our brain we don’t normally use, imparts important lessons about rhythm into our cores. I won’t belabor this point too much, because Michael Knox Beran did a far superior job in his In Defense of Memorization. Suffice it to say, it’s not about the importance of knowing the state capitals (though it’s amazing how many times in my life that knowledge has come in hand), but about the importance of the art of learning by rote (or as Michael Clay Thompson prefers to call it, by heart).

Now, don’t get me wrong. I think I understand the point Smith is trying, but ultimately failing, to make. Technology must, absolutely must, play a more central role in our children’s educations. Technical literacy is becoming increasingly important in colleges and careers. Not only should children know how to use a computer for things like typing, graphic design, and programming, but they need to learn how to become fully participating online citizens. They need to be conversant in social media, because it has an undeniable power. Blogging reaches people in ways that other media can’t. Failure to respect the permanence and reach of anything that happens online has cost more than one job, friendship, or marriage. While my digital literacy soapbox can wait for another day, I wholeheartedly agree that digital literacy must be taught in public schools, private schools, home schools.

That doesn’t mean it needs to be taught to the exclusion of everything else. There are benefits to most aspects of a classical education that extend beyond memorizing a poem in that moment, studying Latin or Latinate vocabulary in that moment. Education isn’t just (or even primarily) about what happens in that moment, but about the big picture of lifelong learning, and Michael Smith’s inability to see that big picture is troubling. It’s particularly troubling that he is giving advice to teachers and (worse) administrators, urging them to sacrifice skills that have much greater benefit than what is seen in that moment.

Incidentally, Mr. Smith, spell-check may have corrected your 12 spelling mistakes, but not your attitude. Do you think they make a computer game that can address that one?

For starters, have you made your “awesome” lists yet? If not, you’d better get right on that.

Now, for today’s “Ask a [Smrt] Homeschooler” question, submitted anonymously through Formspring.

You seem to be kind of anti-waldorf (correct me if I’m wrong!). Do you feel it’s one of those methods that doesn’t work for you but is fine for others, or do you feel about it how you feel about unschooling? Why?

I really don’t think that Waldorf and unschooling are quite analogous. Waldorf education tends to be done in a structured environment, with text books and a curriculum. It’s a methodology that is applied in multiple settings, from private Waldorf schools to public schools (though the method’s application in public schools has been a subject of controversy) to homeschooling. Some unschoolers even espouse a “Waldorf philosophy,” though by that, I think they mean a focus on nature, open-ended play, etc. more than an implementation of Waldorf methodology. My problems with unschooling lies in the lack of formal/structured education, while my issues with Waldorf education lie in the philosophy and implementation. Either could result in a well-rounded, well-educated child. Either could result in a child who is educationally short-changed. Neither strike me as the ideal education for all or most children.

I like the Waldorf-inspired toys, I like the wide array of art forms Waldorf schools teach to their students, I like that nature is valued, and I like the cool way they paint their walls…and that’s about where my “like” of this methodology ends. I feel that Waldorf can probably work for some children (just like unschooling can work for some children), and some Waldorf schools may not embody all the unpleasant aspects of Waldorf philosophy, but on the whole, I don’t see the Waldorf method as a means of imparting a thorough education in a child. In fact, in confirming some of the things I’d heard and read about Waldorf education, I have actually found some downright frightening aspects to it. I don’t think parents who choose the Waldorf method are being neglectful or have negative/harmful attitudes or intentions, but I also think that many of them don’t explore the roots of Waldorf or consider the greater implications of some of the philosophies and methodologies.

Waldorf education does have some specific aspects that greatly put me off, such as:

No technology — Sorry, folks. I’m a believer in the written word, both the hand-written word and the printed paper book, as much as the next bibliophile, but technology is absolutely ingrained in our society…and much of it with good reason. Technological literacy is as much a necessity as reading literacy at this point, perhaps even more so. Labeling all technology as evil or harmful is absurd. Technology is neutral, on the whole; what you do with it is what gives it weight. Rather than “protecting” children from the supposed dangerous influences of technology, I feel it is important to introduce children to responsible uses of technology in education.

Technology provides an incomparable fount of research and resources, far beyond a library’s physical (and financial) capabilities to hold. Technology provides a means for a child whose brain works faster than his hands or who has certain learning disabilities to get the words out without frustration. This “fearing technology just because” mentality makes no sense — electric lights were a technological advance, the printing press was technological advance, the eyeglasses or contact lenses you wear were a technological advance. What makes them acceptable and not other technology? Because of the newness? Because someone has arbitrarily decided certain technologies are acceptable, but others are not? I don’t think computers necessary need to be in every classroom or used all the time, but there’s an expectation in many Waldorf schools that computing should not be done by students at all, television watched at all, technology from their disapproved list used at all. It’s one of many ways in which Waldorf education attempts to extend its sphere of influence beyond the classroom.

The downplaying of the importance of technology is also one of my biggest qualms with classical education, come to think of it. Come on, guys. I don’t think classical education is a perfect methodology, either.

Intentionally delaying reading — The Waldorf method discourages “early” reading, which they classify as reading before at least 2nd grade. They don’t just mean “don’t push reading.” They actually mean “try to delay it.” Independent reading is discouraged, because apparently reading is somehow damaging to a child. Y’all know how I feel about the importance of reading.

While some Waldorf parents (and some Waldorf schools) may simply not encourage (or in their words, “push”) reading before second grade, some do, in fact, outright discourage “early” reading. The wording “discourage early reading” is used throughout multiple pro-Waldorf information sites. This isn’t just a matter of not teaching or not encouraging reading, but of actively thwarting the learning process if possible, in order to protect the “development of the etheric body.” Rudolph Steiner himself said, “A child who cannot write properly at thirteen or fourteen (I can speak out of my own experience because I could not do it at that age) is not so hindered for later spiritual development as one who early, at seven or eight years can already read and write perfectly.” This is not an education method that loves or values literacy.

Claiming to encourage artistic qualities and creativities, while really controlling the artistic process — The “no black crayons” thing is a great example of this. Elementary school students aren’t allowed to use black crayons in many Waldorf schools. I heard this one directly from my future sister-in-law (who went through Waldorf education) and thought that surely it must have been her school only! Since then, I have had it confirmed in multiple places. Black crayons might lead to horrible things like drawing outlines and black is a “dead color,” apparently. Scroll down to “About Black Crayons at Waldorf” to learn more about that.

Of course, if you have black hair or very dark skin, you’re out of luck. My future-SIL said that her school encouraged substitution of the color blue for black when coloring hair. A commenter in this thread (whose children were enrolled in Waldorf education) expresses quite well why I find this anti-black(and sometimes even brown!) crayon sentiment to be so damaging:

There is no way to express or comprehend how an oriental or African American child must feel being unable to draw their own hair or the hair of their family members. And while there may seem like a stretch to make a racial connection with this, we hear time and time again of children who have tried to draw angels with dark skin or hair and are corrected by the teacher and told angels must have light skin and golden hair.

Waldorf schools often tend to discourage the use of pencils, markers, or anything else that can draw a crisp line. Children are typically given block crayons that can only make wide swaths of color and discouraged from detailed face drawings. Much of their art is “wet on wet” watercolor art, which doesn’t allow for much detail work. There also seems to be a heavy emphasis on copying other artwork examples or art under specific direction, at least early on, rather than truly creative artistic expression.

It’s more than a little bit cultish — I was unaware of how much of Waldorf education is wrapped up in anthroposophy. They call it a “spiritual science,” a term I have difficulty even dignifying, as there is absolutely no evidence for their supposed scientific claims. What teachers are taught to teach is sometimes just plain bizarre. The more I read, the more cult-like Steiner’s foundations of Waldorf education seem. The fixation with “demons” (like Lucifer and especially this “Ahriman”), the strange melding of eastern philosophies with European mythologies in order to create a magical world that–of course–only a Waldorf-education person could contact and understand, the encouragement of Waldorf families to associate with only other Waldorf families (I’ve seen this one first-hand), Steiner’s beliefs about racial superiority. Though Steiner’s defenders like to claim his quotes are taken out of context, I’m not sure what context, exactly, would justify statements like, “If the blonds and blue-eyed people die out, the human race will become increasingly dense if men do not arrive at a form of intelligence that is independent of blondness.”

While blatant racism may not be tolerated in Waldorf schools, Waldorf education’s roots are planted in questionable soil and I have found plenty of examples of Waldorf schools subtly and not-so-subtly presenting white as right. By devaluing the colors black and (sometimes) brown and by insisting that angels must be drawn as blonde-haired and fair-skinned, Waldorf schools may be sending dangerous messages about race.

Downplaying the importance of the study of history. — The Waldorf method seems to present history and mythology as essentially same thing, especially in the early years. While I’m not as history-centric as some classical (or neo-classical, as I’m starting to think of myself) educators, the idea of dismissing history as a separate subject entirely or presenting it solely or primarily through myths and legends is troubling and I have a hard time believing that a thorough historical education could be had through such means. Myths have an important role to play within the context of history, but when you remove them from their historical context, you essentially boil the entirety of the human experience down to fairy tales.

What I have written here is my own set of concerns regarding Waldorf education. I have tried to, by and large, use only pro-Waldorf links in my examples above, though in the area of racism/anthroposophy, I have linked to experiences and examples on sites with a negative view of the Waldorf method. I haven’t address Waldorf as it applies to homeschooling, because I honestly have no idea how much of the Waldorf method could be applied at home (as Waldorf method teachers seem to require a goodly amount of specialized training in the methodology/philosophy), outside of the more benign art-and-nature-focused aspects of it. The former Waldorf students I know have been taught in traditional Waldorf method schools, not at home, and their experiences and accounts have had the most significant influence on my perception of Waldorf education.

If you’re interested in reading more about concerns and pitfalls of Waldorf education, you can find quite a few sites out there that actively explore and deconstruct the philosophies and practices of the Waldorf method, including those site I linked in the section on anthroposophy and racism. Mothering.com’s forums have multiple discussion threads about negative experiences with Waldorf or with specific aspects of the method. Other parents have had experiences like this blogger’s and written about it. You can also find many sites and accounts that praise the method, including those I have linked in most of the above post.

To answer my anonymous questioner, no, I don’t feel that the Waldorf method is one that “doesn’t work for [me] but is fine for others” in a larger sense. Like with unschooling, I feel there are people and circumstances that can probably do it very well and very right, with the result of a well-educated and thoroughly delightful student. As with unschooling, I think it has merits that can make it seem quite appealing. I don’t think those merits and the slim possibility of the stars aligning for a perfect education are strong enough to consider Waldorf education a good call for most families. Your mileage may vary. If you are a Waldorf family, I sincerely hope your mileage does vary, because (as with unschooling, believe it or not) I’d like to be wrong on this one.

Do you have a question for the [Smrt] Homeschooler? Email them to
smrtmama@smrtlernins.com or ask me anonymously on Formspring.