Opening Remarks by John Siegenthaler: Academic Awards, Semester I, 2008-2009
Thank you and good afternoon...I must admit that when Ms. Havard asked
me to speak at this assembly, which honors your academic achievements,
I was a bit concerned. What might I say which would benefit the whole
community? Truth be told, I am conflicted about the value of this
gathering, or rather, the possible cost to those of you whose names
will not be called. I can imagine myself in those pews, waiting in vain
for my name to be called, hoping that a dean or school head might hand
me a trophy. I have no recollection that this sort of thing even took
place when I was in high school, which might mean that I did not
deserve such an award. Not exactly the proper credentials to speak at
tonight’s gathering.
Nevertheless, I have attended these assemblies for a great many years. I have congratulated those of you who have managed to move forward positively and well. Still, my concern remains that what sticks with us about these gatherings is the reward and not the process by which the prize is earned. For many in this country, schooling is the collection of trophies and assorted merit badges. I would like to explore another interpretation with you for the next few minutes.
How did we develop the view of education which sees schooling as the passing of tests and the awarding of places on honor roll lists?
Let me start with a brief look at the Latin word at the center of this conversation and its connection to schooling. The English word education comes from a Latin verb – educare - which means to bring up, to rear, to train, as in bringing up babies, rearing children or training students. The verb’s action is initiated by the one who does the bringing up, the rearing, the training. Middle and upper class Romans engaged in a lengthy debate about who ought to educate children. The traditional theory stated that parents should perform this important task. It was assumed that fathers would train sons to assume the critical responsibilities of citizen, soldier and breadwinner and mothers would equip daughters for their important roles as mother and household organizer. To leave the education of one’s child to another was scandalous. The future of individual families and of Rome itself depended on the careful rearing of the society’s youth by their parents. Children were the careful creations of the adults in their world.
Roman children were taught basic academic skills like reading and writing, along with a host of occupational tasks. Farming techniques, craftmenship and physical activities like horseback riding and military training were part of a boy’s education. Girls learned domestic skills from their mothers including the proper management of a large household, something similar to running a small business for some of the wealthier families. Roman morality was a central element of this education and central to morality was a sense of duty to the society as a whole. Romans would be quite familiar with our school motto Non Sibi sed Cunctis and were raised to think of the larger group first.
As society became more complicated, both in the Roman system and in our own world, the education of children became the responsibility of someone other than a parent. And as cultures overlapped and morality became a more diverse conversation, teaching became more narrowly focused on measurable skills. Schooling became the method by which information was inserted into children and a variety of methods were created to test whether the students were actually learning the material. In an increasingly data-rich world, someone had to train children for the future.
This has become the most common description of schooling in our country. Teachers teach and students learn. Children exist to be molded, albeit gently and humanely, into efficient, functioning young adults. Schools everywhere suggest that students will be trained in a variety of ways, especially academic ones. Academic success determines your eligibility for the next set of courses, leads to admission to selective colleges and maybe even provides access to a walk of life which appeals to you. And everywhere the power of teachers is invoked as the key.
Popular culture is full of examples which reinforce this view of school as training and the critical role teachers play in this training. Movies like Dangerous Minds and Stand and Deliver contain stories of heroic instructors working their magic with unlikely students to achieve remarkable success. And, of course, there are those films which portray teachers who are less than successful at this, like Ferris Bueller's Day Off. Your own speech gives teachers the credit – or blame – for your progress. How many of you have referred to a grade as something you have been given? “Mr. Siegenthaler gave me a B- on that last paper” or “I can’t believe I only got a C on the Physics quiz.”
This is all well and good but...is this all there is to education? If we accept the notion of schooling as training we run the risk of diminishing the importance of students in the process. Think about the following: if students demonstrate that they have been well trained, shouldn’t the trainer be recognized? To do justice to conventional theory, you all should remain seated tonight and your teachers should be rewarded for bringing you to such accomplishment. In its logical conclusion, this theory says that your successes simply happen to you, or are the result of other, outside forces, and may even be temporary. This term you make the honor roll but will you do so again next time? How do you get any credit for your achievements?
Rather than accepting this notion of schooling and teachers, I suggest a different approach. Consider another Latin verb - advento - which means to advance, to press forward. Our word adventure comes from this Latin verb. Adventures are journeys in search of something, usually involve some risk and require a great deal of energy on the part of the adventurer. The levels of these can be adjusted to suit the talents and personality of the one involved. These journeys are seldom laid out in advance, the adventurer cannot count on a particular outcome. Adventures last a very long time and no two are exactly alike.
How many of you are willing to see schooling as an adventure, the moving toward a particular goal or understanding? If we take this approach, the responsibility for progress and success is where it should be – with you. This notion suggests that you receive the credit for your achievements because your energies and decisions drive the process, not the talents of magical teachers or twists of fate. And, education becomes a lifelong process, an endeavor of boundless scope and breadth. It does not end with a particular test or set of courses or with the awarding of a degree. Rather, it continues in a way which rejuvenates the participants and encourages each to look for additional opportunities to learn.
The role of teacher in this vision of schooling remains a critical one. Every story book adventurer encounters guides along the way, characters who encourage, advise and direct the efforts of the brave explorer. In the best of these stories, the influence of these guides is somewhat vague, the advice a little less direct than the main character would wish it to be. This is an important point; for if teachers, as guides, do the work for you, the credit again belongs to them and not to you. Still, we all need help at various stages and the best teachers know when to step in and when to hang back. You must be ready to risk a little, to open your mind to the opportunities which learning presents even when there is no clear end in sight or recognizable plan in place. You need not know where the journey will take you in order to begin the adventure.
Let me tell you a story about one such risk. I do not consider it unique; in fact, I am confident that each of the adults in this chapel can conjure up a version of this adventure from their own past. When I was in the tenth grade, I had a teacher named George Jessup. Mr. Jessup worked in the physical educational department of my large public high school and he was my gym teacher that fall. For reasons I still do not understand, Mr. Jessup required me to do two things that year. The first was that I drop gym and try out for the soccer team. Why me? I had not played any organized soccer and was not a terribly impressive physical specimen. But I could not find a reason to say no. That spring, Mr. Jessup made his second request. I was to take a job in a summer camp in Maine. I had seldom been away from home and for two weeks at most. This time it would be for nine. I was to be a kitchen boy, hardly a glamorous or attractive job. Mr. Jessup had no idea whether I could even wash dishes. Again, I was not bold enough to say no. I was not an instant success at either soccer or dishwashing but I persevered, trusting that the adventure would lead somewhere interesting and rewarding. A place on one soccer team led to another and then to years of coaching. The dish room job became a counselor’s position at the camp and camp became boarding school. Was Mr. Jessup a miracle worker? No, he was not. Was he responsible for the path my life has taken? No, but he certainly gave me the gift of opportunity, for which I am eternally grateful. The risks were mine, however, and the successes and failures mine as well. The point is I was willing to push ahead, to explore, not because there was a test to pass or a diploma to earn but because the adventure was compelling and enjoyable.
Tonight we applaud the progress of many of you as you master the various tasks involved in being a good student. Yet, we must not forget the process involved in this success. Some of you are naturally good at this task. Others of you have applied yourself with determination, and at least a little good cheer, to the various components of school work. Still others are uneasy about this whole thing. To you I say, give yourselves to the process. Trust the people around you to support your adventure, to fire your imagination. Worry less about the outcome and focus on the enjoyment of the direction this portion of your life is taking. Only by applying yourself with enthusiasm and vigor will you discover the depths of your abilities and the possibilities which await you.
I leave you with two stanzas from one of my favorite poems entitled Ulysses by Alfred Lord Tennyson. You remember the story, I trust, about the Greek hero of the Trojan War who wanders for many years before finding his way home. In this poem, Ulysses is old, ruling his kingdom without incident and lamenting that life has become so staid. In these lines, the king urges us to seek new adventures, to explore both literally and figuratively. These words sum up the notion of education as adventure more eloquently than I have when the King says:
I am a part of all that I have met;
Yet all experience is an arch wherethro'
Gleams that untravell'd world whose margin fades
For ever and for ever when I move.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use!
As tho' to breathe were life!
Ulysses goes on to say...
Come, my friends.
'T is not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down;
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are,
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield...
Congratulations to those of you already engaged in an adventure and best wishes to those about to set forth.
Back
How did we develop the view of education which sees schooling as the passing of tests and the awarding of places on honor roll lists?
Let me start with a brief look at the Latin word at the center of this conversation and its connection to schooling. The English word education comes from a Latin verb – educare - which means to bring up, to rear, to train, as in bringing up babies, rearing children or training students. The verb’s action is initiated by the one who does the bringing up, the rearing, the training. Middle and upper class Romans engaged in a lengthy debate about who ought to educate children. The traditional theory stated that parents should perform this important task. It was assumed that fathers would train sons to assume the critical responsibilities of citizen, soldier and breadwinner and mothers would equip daughters for their important roles as mother and household organizer. To leave the education of one’s child to another was scandalous. The future of individual families and of Rome itself depended on the careful rearing of the society’s youth by their parents. Children were the careful creations of the adults in their world.
Roman children were taught basic academic skills like reading and writing, along with a host of occupational tasks. Farming techniques, craftmenship and physical activities like horseback riding and military training were part of a boy’s education. Girls learned domestic skills from their mothers including the proper management of a large household, something similar to running a small business for some of the wealthier families. Roman morality was a central element of this education and central to morality was a sense of duty to the society as a whole. Romans would be quite familiar with our school motto Non Sibi sed Cunctis and were raised to think of the larger group first.
As society became more complicated, both in the Roman system and in our own world, the education of children became the responsibility of someone other than a parent. And as cultures overlapped and morality became a more diverse conversation, teaching became more narrowly focused on measurable skills. Schooling became the method by which information was inserted into children and a variety of methods were created to test whether the students were actually learning the material. In an increasingly data-rich world, someone had to train children for the future.
This has become the most common description of schooling in our country. Teachers teach and students learn. Children exist to be molded, albeit gently and humanely, into efficient, functioning young adults. Schools everywhere suggest that students will be trained in a variety of ways, especially academic ones. Academic success determines your eligibility for the next set of courses, leads to admission to selective colleges and maybe even provides access to a walk of life which appeals to you. And everywhere the power of teachers is invoked as the key.
Popular culture is full of examples which reinforce this view of school as training and the critical role teachers play in this training. Movies like Dangerous Minds and Stand and Deliver contain stories of heroic instructors working their magic with unlikely students to achieve remarkable success. And, of course, there are those films which portray teachers who are less than successful at this, like Ferris Bueller's Day Off. Your own speech gives teachers the credit – or blame – for your progress. How many of you have referred to a grade as something you have been given? “Mr. Siegenthaler gave me a B- on that last paper” or “I can’t believe I only got a C on the Physics quiz.”
This is all well and good but...is this all there is to education? If we accept the notion of schooling as training we run the risk of diminishing the importance of students in the process. Think about the following: if students demonstrate that they have been well trained, shouldn’t the trainer be recognized? To do justice to conventional theory, you all should remain seated tonight and your teachers should be rewarded for bringing you to such accomplishment. In its logical conclusion, this theory says that your successes simply happen to you, or are the result of other, outside forces, and may even be temporary. This term you make the honor roll but will you do so again next time? How do you get any credit for your achievements?
Rather than accepting this notion of schooling and teachers, I suggest a different approach. Consider another Latin verb - advento - which means to advance, to press forward. Our word adventure comes from this Latin verb. Adventures are journeys in search of something, usually involve some risk and require a great deal of energy on the part of the adventurer. The levels of these can be adjusted to suit the talents and personality of the one involved. These journeys are seldom laid out in advance, the adventurer cannot count on a particular outcome. Adventures last a very long time and no two are exactly alike.
How many of you are willing to see schooling as an adventure, the moving toward a particular goal or understanding? If we take this approach, the responsibility for progress and success is where it should be – with you. This notion suggests that you receive the credit for your achievements because your energies and decisions drive the process, not the talents of magical teachers or twists of fate. And, education becomes a lifelong process, an endeavor of boundless scope and breadth. It does not end with a particular test or set of courses or with the awarding of a degree. Rather, it continues in a way which rejuvenates the participants and encourages each to look for additional opportunities to learn.
The role of teacher in this vision of schooling remains a critical one. Every story book adventurer encounters guides along the way, characters who encourage, advise and direct the efforts of the brave explorer. In the best of these stories, the influence of these guides is somewhat vague, the advice a little less direct than the main character would wish it to be. This is an important point; for if teachers, as guides, do the work for you, the credit again belongs to them and not to you. Still, we all need help at various stages and the best teachers know when to step in and when to hang back. You must be ready to risk a little, to open your mind to the opportunities which learning presents even when there is no clear end in sight or recognizable plan in place. You need not know where the journey will take you in order to begin the adventure.
Let me tell you a story about one such risk. I do not consider it unique; in fact, I am confident that each of the adults in this chapel can conjure up a version of this adventure from their own past. When I was in the tenth grade, I had a teacher named George Jessup. Mr. Jessup worked in the physical educational department of my large public high school and he was my gym teacher that fall. For reasons I still do not understand, Mr. Jessup required me to do two things that year. The first was that I drop gym and try out for the soccer team. Why me? I had not played any organized soccer and was not a terribly impressive physical specimen. But I could not find a reason to say no. That spring, Mr. Jessup made his second request. I was to take a job in a summer camp in Maine. I had seldom been away from home and for two weeks at most. This time it would be for nine. I was to be a kitchen boy, hardly a glamorous or attractive job. Mr. Jessup had no idea whether I could even wash dishes. Again, I was not bold enough to say no. I was not an instant success at either soccer or dishwashing but I persevered, trusting that the adventure would lead somewhere interesting and rewarding. A place on one soccer team led to another and then to years of coaching. The dish room job became a counselor’s position at the camp and camp became boarding school. Was Mr. Jessup a miracle worker? No, he was not. Was he responsible for the path my life has taken? No, but he certainly gave me the gift of opportunity, for which I am eternally grateful. The risks were mine, however, and the successes and failures mine as well. The point is I was willing to push ahead, to explore, not because there was a test to pass or a diploma to earn but because the adventure was compelling and enjoyable.
Tonight we applaud the progress of many of you as you master the various tasks involved in being a good student. Yet, we must not forget the process involved in this success. Some of you are naturally good at this task. Others of you have applied yourself with determination, and at least a little good cheer, to the various components of school work. Still others are uneasy about this whole thing. To you I say, give yourselves to the process. Trust the people around you to support your adventure, to fire your imagination. Worry less about the outcome and focus on the enjoyment of the direction this portion of your life is taking. Only by applying yourself with enthusiasm and vigor will you discover the depths of your abilities and the possibilities which await you.
I leave you with two stanzas from one of my favorite poems entitled Ulysses by Alfred Lord Tennyson. You remember the story, I trust, about the Greek hero of the Trojan War who wanders for many years before finding his way home. In this poem, Ulysses is old, ruling his kingdom without incident and lamenting that life has become so staid. In these lines, the king urges us to seek new adventures, to explore both literally and figuratively. These words sum up the notion of education as adventure more eloquently than I have when the King says:
I am a part of all that I have met;
Yet all experience is an arch wherethro'
Gleams that untravell'd world whose margin fades
For ever and for ever when I move.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use!
As tho' to breathe were life!
Ulysses goes on to say...
Come, my friends.
'T is not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down;
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are,
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield...
Congratulations to those of you already engaged in an adventure and best wishes to those about to set forth.
