The most important words are often the ones not emphasized

“"Big news! Extremely prestigious people have completed a robust and expensive scientific study showing that ___ produces gains in student achievement!!!”….(if implemented properly)

It’s like the fine print of education innovation. It’s the most important thing but the least exciting thing to market or publicize.

There are endless initiatives and ideas (within reason) that can improve education if implemented properly. At the same time, how often do we see something that improves education even without being implemented properly? So instead of spending all of our time and energy on generating new ideas with great potential and high-profile studies telling us that something improves education when implemented properly, wouldn’t our focus be better spent on figuring out what exactly “implemented properly” entails?

In the field of education I often hear 3 terms used interchangeably. They are all things schools do with teachers to help them improve. But are they really the same thing?

Here they are (combination of Wikipedia’s language and my own):

Professional Development (PD): The acquisition of skills and knowledge, both for personal development and for career advancement. Think conferences, advanced degrees, networking opportunities, certifications, guest speakers, etc. These are opportunities to learn something new, build various skills, and improve overall as a professional. There is no specific objective, rather a general appetite for learning, connecting, and improving.

Training: The teaching of vocational or practical skills and knowledge that relate to specific useful competencies. Here there is a particular goal in mind, a skill that needs to be developed. This is really about teaching...

I went to see an orthopedist today. I was checked in 3 times (lobby, front desk of the center, doctor’s receptionist), filled out all my forms, and had all of my information taken by various employees. The nurse asked me some questions, took some notes, and helped me get prepared for the doctor. The doctor then came in, asked me how my knee was feeling, and gave me an injection. He couldn’t have been in the room for more than 4 minutes, but managed in that time to smoothly drop in to do the most important piece of my 30 minute visit.

Somehow in medicine we’ve figured out how to maximize a doctor’s time. The doctor isn’t a receptionist, office manager, documenter, interviewer, or data manager. He doesn’t sign into the computer. The entire operation is optimized to leave the most difficult/advanced work to the doctor, and to give everything else to other employees.

Yes, the doctor’s time...

The education system has always been and still is filled with teachers trying to help students do what the teachers themselves can already do.
An english teacher teaches students to memorize a poem he already can recite.
A math teacher teaches students to solve problems she already can do in her sleep.
A foreign language teacher teaches students to speak a language in which he already is fluent.

Upon entering the workforce, a graduate is often asked to do things his boss doesn’t know how to do, or develop a particular expertise nobody else in the company has. If the graduate becomes an entrepreneur, she may not even have a boss at all.

What if we could create more scenarios in which students managed to learn things we teachers didn’t even know ourselves?

In my experience with new projects/initiatives, I’ve seen three general types of success-related questions that get asked. A single person could theoretically ask all of them, but more often than not each person focuses on just one of the three. In truth, these questions are far more than just questions (as most are). They represent drastically different philosophies, approaches, and attitudes towards change:

1. “Could it possibly ever succeed considering _____?”
2. “What should we do to evaluate whether or not it succeeded?”
3. “What can we do to make it succeed?”

Each question is asked innocently, with the assumption that the answer will help direct the project toward success.

The secret, though, is that in reality the direction toward or away from success has already been set by choosing which question to ask.

For hundreds of thousands of students, this weekend represents one of the most drastic and immediate transitions in their lives. After completing a long, immersive, educational experience, a mere few hours in a cap and gown serve as a rite of passage into an entirely different stage of life.

One common message of graduation goes something like this:
“Until today, you were a taker.* We (teachers & parents) taught you everything you needed to know. Your days and nights have been reserved for learning. We tried to remove all possible distractions and responsibilities from you so you could focus on absorbing content and skills. We isolated you from the world, having paid professionals make you their client and full-time student. We gave you school buildings, campuses, cafeterias, labs, libraries, dorms, advisors, and study lounges. We have worked as hard as possible to shield you from the...

“If you want to understand Superman, you have to understand Kryptonite”

This frequent saying of a former teacher of mine is very insightful and can be eye-opening if put into practice.

In order to understand a person, an organization, an institution, or a system, you need to understand its limits. What makes it crumble? What outside force, context, or set of variables causes it to become vulnerable? Which circumstances or anecdotes reveal or highlight its most critical flaws?

No system or organization is perfect. No student is perfect. No teacher is perfect. No school is perfect. The education system as a whole is certainly not perfect. We should always be striving to improve, enhance, and adapt on every level.

So, what’s your Kryptonite?

Over 30 years have passed since Howard Gardner first proposed his “Multiple Intelligences” theory. Rather than viewing intelligence as lying on a one-dimensional spectrum, Gardner asserted that intelligence is not one unified characteristic. Instead, there are eight or so (some are still being debated to this day) types of intelligence. Any given person can be strong in one intelligence area while being weak in another. The uniqueness of each learner stems in part from the individual’s balance and combination of intelligences.

The battle to incorporate this ideology into mainstream education is very much ongoing. Some teachers & schools still refer to their students as “strong/weak” or “smart/slow,” while others maintain that those categories are inaccurate and outdated. Between high-stakes testing, curriculum standards, and differing pedagogical philosophies, schools vary greatly in...

In school, the distinction is pretty clear.
Students are expected to listen, follow instructions, study, and cooperate.
Teachers are expected to teach, give instructions, motivate, and inspire.

Separate lunch tables, bathrooms, work areas, lounges, and titles/names - the distinction is unambiguous.

Outside of school, though, the lines are quite blurry. Individuals sway back and forth — one minute a teacher, the next minute a student. One person. One place. One time. Student and teacher all rolled up into one.

What if we blurred the lines in school too?