I came across an interesting Facebook post a while back. Someone was lauding a decision by a British school to no longer teach children to read analog clocks. He compared it to American public schools removing cursive from their curriculum and celebrated both decisions as education removing archaic burdens that no longer have a place in our technological century. I disagreed, but looking at the comments, realized that it had become a collection of long arguments. I wasn't about to engage in that, since I was primarily on Facebook for 3 minutes of entertainment and not to enter into a debate with adults subtly calling each other dumb. Besides, I hadn't fully formulated my reasons for disagreeing with the person's conclusions. (Plus, Facebook is a poor forum for debate or objective analysis . . .)
A week or more later though, I was having trouble falling back to sleep after a nighttime feeding for Baby, and I found my mind cycling through the cons to the school's decision. That's when I realized that I did care.
First, I decided, it's hard to call any morally-neutral learning useless.
One fairly well-known analogy for understanding the brain is the brain as a muscle. Researchers have seen it light up on scans when learning occurs, and we know that new learning prepares it for more learning. Memorization, new skills, new knowledge, aid in brain plasticity, which creates a healthy brain environment. Seriously, if people can make an argument for learning Latin, a dead language, surely knowing how to read a clock face - something that is still present in nearly every life setting - could be a good life skill. (Yes, practically everyone has a cell phone in their pocket now to aid them should they not be able to read the time, but do we really want our children to be MORE dependent on their phones?)
We also know that skills we learn when younger stay with us longer and integrate into a level of naturalness better than those learned later in life. Examples from my life of things I learned early and used often: tying shoes, playing piano, writing papers, cooking, cleaning, typing, and gardening. On the other hand, later in my life, I've attempted to learn to play the guitar, speak Spanish, write in italics, and format a paper in the APA style, with varying degrees of success. I can adapt the first list to my needs now, even if they're not used strictly in the exact nature in which it was taught (I don't write papers anymore, I blog; I don't often sit at a computer and type, but I'm familiar with the keyboard on my phone screen for texting; I don't always wear shoes with laces, but I can make a lovely bow when decorating gifts or craft projects). The things I wasn't taught when I was young aren't available to me in the same enriching way. Just because the application of a skill (like writing in cursive or reading an analog clock) may be elusive, it doesn't mean we need to send it the way of the dinosaurs.
Secondly, kids don't need a dumbed-down environment; they need a healthy one.
When I say this, I don't mean Lysol wipes and rubber mats. (Did you know that there is a recent trend to make playgrounds less "safe"?) Even the church has fallen prey to this one. Sunday school and youth group is plagued by curriculum filled with bite-sized theology. We pull kids out of the large group in the church service and send them off to children's church. (If you think I'm getting away from the morally-neutral premise of the first point, I'm not. How are kids going to learn to sit and pay attention in a world of sound bites and flashing screens if we don't ask it of them? How are they going to see themselves as part of a whole culture if they're only ever sequestered with those of their own age group? How are they going to learn to value other perspectives if they are only given one? How are they going to understand where they came from if they never interact with those who have gone before? How are they going to get good at thinking about things if we do all their thinking for them?)
No, what kids need is someplace they won't be preyed upon because they're weaker, where manners and how to apologize are modeled, where they know they're loved enough that it's ok to make mistakes and maybe even (gasp!) fail. They need someone who requires them to persevere in the face of obstacles. They need encouragement to do things that are hard at first.
If schools aren't going to be a place like that, maybe our kids shouldn't be there.
