How Would Jesus Teach (HWJT)?

July 3, 2022June 4, 2023 ~ Blue Cereal ~ 1 Comment

I’m not a preacher, a prophet, or a theologian. I like too many different colors of children and accept too wide a range of people and their efforts to make sense of this world and their place in it. I don’t worship the police, the military, or the GOP. I don’t even own a gun. So, despite what the current Supreme Court seems to think, I’m probably not the person you want teaching your kids about what American Christianity demands they think, feel, believe, or do.

I’d mess too much of it up.

I do have some experience, however, with being a teacher. I’ve taught literally thousands of teenagers over the past three decades (how terrifying is that?) and worked with hundreds of educators during that span as well. I have a pretty good idea of what often works and which things usually don’t. In a pinch, I can even use fancy pedagogical terms and reference Marzano or Dweck like I mean it.

If you take the (Protestant) Bible at face value, it turns out Jesus did some teaching as well. Apparently it was something he wanted to do from a young age. The scriptures provide only a single account from the period between the Nativity and his adult ministry: as a young man, he bailed on his parents to hang out with successful teachers and practice a little pedagogy of his own (Luke 2:41-52).

I assume carpentry paid better, but sometimes you gotta go with your calling, whatever the tax bracket. He’d later turn down even more prestige and prosperity in favor of his true gig (Matthew 4:1-11, Luke 4:1-13)

The first four books of the New Testament – Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John – contain multiple accounts of his approach to teaching and to those being taught, as well as excerpts of some of his actual lessons. I thought a few of these might prove interesting, given current events.

Now, before you get yourself all worked up in either joyous anticipation or preliminary outrage, I’m not interpreting the actual teachings of Jesus in this post – at least, not as they apply to our eternal souls or doctrinal disputes. I’m more interested in his approach to the enlightenment process itself and what we might be able to learn from it as educators in a very different time and place.

In fact, we should probably start with the “very different” element right up front.

Cultural Context and Contrasts

The times in which Jesus taught were complex enough in their own way, but most of us would have found the pace of life rather tedious. Things simply didn’t happen as fast as we expect today.

Revisit any classic film from the 1970s or 1980s. It doesn’t even have to be a drama – you can choose 101 Dalmatians, Beverly Hills Cop, or even Jaws. While you may still enjoy them, you can’t help but notice the pacing is radically different than what we’ve come to expect. Go back another few decades, and the distinction is even more noticeable.

Keep going for about two thousand years and you have the plodding tempo of the year zero.

That fact alone made teaching anything to anyone a bit easier because you weren’t competing with a wide variety of far more exciting alternatives, many of them in their pockets or hidden under their desks at that exact moment.

The curriculum was also arguably more engaging. Most of Jesus’s teaching focused on the nature of the relationship between man and God, or between people. Some involved divine mysteries, others addressed practical approaches to networking or helping an outreach campaign go viral. But there are few (if any) technical explanations recorded in the four Gospels – no Algebra II or explanations of RNA vs. DNA. Consequently, there wasn’t much in the way of graphic organizers or foldables used in Christ’s lesson plans (as far as we know).

Jesus also taught in a culture much more comfortable with oral instruction. He may have been the only actual Son of God exhorting the crowds in his time, but by most accounts there were dozens of similar “prophets” or “teachers” who took similar approaches and made their own cases for whatever was on their minds.

Finally, most folks listening to Jesus wanted to be there. As is so often pointed out whenever super-smart experts from outside public education share their inspirational analogies about pilots or blueberries or whatever, we’re tasked with capturing, focusing, and enlightening youth who are essentially prisoners in our care for eight hours a day. Anyone not enamored with the Son of Man, on the other hand, could simply walk away without consequences.

Well, without immediate consequences, anyway. I suppose long-term it was probably a bad idea.

Lessons (from Lessons)

Still, there are some recurring elements of Jesus’s approach to teaching which should be familiar to any modern educator and which no doubt increased his effectiveness substantially.

First, Jesus offered wraparound services. He often focused on meeting the critical needs of his students before even thinking about schooling them on whatever topic was on the agenda that day. Most of the time this involved providing health care, although feeding them was sometimes a priority as well. He recognized that many people couldn’t or wouldn’t focus on difficult concepts until their basic needs were met. Such attentiveness also built relationships and credibility, which made subsequent lessons or corrections far more meaningful (Matthew 8, 9, 12, 14, 15, 17, Mark 1, 6, 8, Luke 4, 5, 9, John 5, 6, 9, and other examples too numerous to cite).

Jesus took on every student, whether they “deserved” to be there or not, and whatever their discipline record, lifestyle choices, or societal status (Matthew 15:21-28, 19:13-14, Mark 2:13-17, 10:13-16, Luke 19:1-10, John 4). He rejected the idea that illness or poverty were “natural consequences” of poor choices and instead approached them as opportunities to serve (Luke 5:17-25, 6:37-42, 10:25-37, 14:12-14, John 9). He supported targeted efforts to reach every student (Luke 15) while still recognizing that at some point, whether or not learning and growth actually occurs is up to the individual (Matthew 13:1-9, Mark 4).

At times, he seems to have neglected his family in favor of his mission (Matthew 6:46-49, Luke 8:19-21). While it’s not clear this was intended as a literal example to be followed by the rest of us, it’s a tendency many educators will recognize.

As to his actual teaching, Jesus expressed complex ideas in ways accessible to his audience (Matthew 5:13-14, 7, 13, 20:1-16, Mark 12:1-11, Luke 8, 10:25-37, 19, 20, John 10, 15, and other examples too numerous to cite). His analogies (“parables”) connected new ideas to familiar experiences common to farming, parenting, etc. He was also good about connecting new information to his audience’s prior knowledge (Matthew 5, 12:1-8, Luke 11, 17) and providing real-world examples of potentially elusive ideas.

For particularly important tasks or skills, he offered mentor texts (examples) for them to follow until they were confident enough to customize or create their own (Matthew 6:7-13, Luke 11:1-12).

Jesus insisted on the value of even seemingly small efforts in the face of overwhelming odds and celebrated mindset over standardized measures of achievement (Matthew 13:31-34, Mark 4, Mark 12:41-44, Luke 21:1-4). He even appreciated stubborn determination when the results themselves were questionable (Luke 18:1-8).

Progressive Education

Jesus refused to simply “teach the content” and leave relationships and attitude out of it. He constantly exhorted his students to exceed minimal expectations and push themselves to do better than was absolutely required. Given the choice between performing some task or accomplishing some goal and practicing kindness, restorative justice, or social emotional learning, he preferred the latter (Matthew 5, 7:1-5, 22:34-40, Luke 6).

While pushing “students” to preserve and practice their faith in all settings, he suggested that overtly religious rituals be reserved for the appropriate time and place – not, for example, celebrated on the 50-yard line after lawyering up and contacting the local media (Matthew 6:5-8).

Jesus generally tried to avoid unnecessary socio-political conflict and focus on his mission (Matthew 22:15-22, Mark 12:13-17, Luke 20:20-26) but he wasn’t afraid to break the rules or violate stupid laws in order to better serve those in his care (Matthew 12:1-13, 15:1-20, Mark 2:23-28, 3:1-6, 5:1-17, Luke 6:1-10, Luke 14:1-6). He spoke out on issues related to his efforts and wasn’t afraid to criticize those doing harm to his “kids” (Matthew 11:20-24, 23, Luke 11). He was vocal in calling out bad policy and bad practice (Matthew 23:13-33, Luke 20:45-47, John 2:13-17).

He continued teaching and encouraging others to join the profession in the face of constant insults and opposition from those in religious and political power (Matthew 10). He was willing to learn from “experts” but didn’t become overly enamored with them or automatically buy into everything they were selling (Matthew 23:1-12, Mark 12:38-40). He at times attempted to engage and reason with political and religious authorities despite realizing in advance that they weren’t really looking for solutions so much as grandstanding to promote their own pre-existing ideologies or status (Matthew 12:25-37, Mark 12, John 8).

Practical Considerations

Jesus wasn’t afraid to practice “self-care” and withdraw from the craziness from time to time in order to refocus and re-energize (Mark 1:35-39, Luke 4:42). He willingly worked alone, but actively mentored those newer to the gig (Matthew 9-15 and pretty much every other conversation with his disciples).

He differentiated his lessons from large groups to the smaller, PLC-type sessions with his inner circle (and presumably spoke differently to the little kids than he did to the adults as well). He taught fishermen differently than he did Pharisees and recognized that not everyone could handle all parts of the same curriculum (John 6).

For his efforts, as you probably know, he was demonized and eventually murdered by those representing entrenched religious and political power. I’m not suggesting most educators are likely to be literally crucified before 2025, but it certainly suggests that hating us for what we’re trying to do isn’t exactly new.

Conclusion

This is not my introductory rough draft for an upcoming Teach Like A Messiah book, nor am I looking to break into the gift book market at the local Mardel or LifeWay. Mostly, I just thought there were some interesting elements in Jesus’s approach that might be worthy of consideration.

Not everything that works for one person in one situation works for everyone in all situations – even when that one person is, you know… THAT ONE PERSON. But surely if there’s anyone we could benefit from emulating as we hope against hope that perhaps the truth might still somehow set us free, he’s as good a place as any to start.

I’m Not Sure I Want My Students To Succeed

December 16, 2020June 4, 2023 ~ Blue Cereal

I’m not sure I want my students to succeed.

How’s that for an attention-grabber? Now I’ll skillfully jump back and lay the foundation for such an outrageous claim and hope it’s enough to keep you reading until we reach it again further on.

Four-Point Scale or Back Hoe?

The question of how to grade, what to grade, or even IF to grade isn’t exactly new in the world of public education. Sometimes it’s set by building or district policy (although enforcement is problematic at best). Other times it’s at least discussed within departments. By and large, however, it’s something no two teachers seem to do quite the same.

Many of the differences are cosmetic. Categories or total points? Are quizzes worth 10% or are they worth way more points than daily work and the math ends up with pretty much the same results? Other differences are philosophical. Completion or accuracy? Effort or quality? Improvement or achievement?

Things quickly get messy. If I grade entirely on objective standards, the kid who rarely shows up and never participates but has a great memory might pull a solid ‘B’ in my class without actually learning anything or becoming less odious to the world at large. The girl who does everything I ask and shows massive improvement still fails if she started off with less knowledge and fewer skills. On the other hand, points for effort sometimes seems like we’re rewarding mediocrity – or worse, giving pity points to kids who have no business moving up a level academically.

In other words, you don’t have to go very far before you realize several things about grades in high school. First, they don’t usually mean everything we hope and pretend they mean – particularly not from one class to another. Second, they’re almost impossible to get rid of. They’re so baked into the system that even districts bold enough to try alternatives usually end up using some form of an A – F, 4.0 scale when communicating with the state or post-secondary institutions.

Finally, and perhaps most significantly, any discussion of grades or grading quickly becomes a discussion about priorities and overall teaching philosophy as well. It reveals our assumptions about kids, about education, about “the system,” and about our own ability to accurately observe and assess specific skills or chunks of learnin’ in otherwise complicated beings – teenagers.

Our Rubric, Which Art From Heaven…

I’ve worked with amazing educators who believed that a 59.4% was the highest ‘F’ you could earn, so congrats on that. This wasn’t some sort of revenge for being bullied as a child; it reflected a larger conviction regarding expectations, opportunity and responsibility. I’ve heard anecdotes about teachers who announce on Day One that everyone’s getting an ‘A’, so let’s just focus on learning! I can’t imagine this actually working very often, but it’s not founded on laziness; it’s founded on a set of ideals about what education should look like.

Emphasizing quizzes and tests over daily work is more than a calculation; it reflects a philosophy about how things work (or should). The opposite is equally true. Prioritizing completion and effort and showing up every day over performance on formal assessments is about underlying beliefs. The whole “standards-based grading” movement is merely a variation on this theme – are we actually measuring whatever it is we think they’re supposed to be learning?

This means, of course, that we can’t really talk about grading until we talk about what it is we’re trying to measure. This is standard edu-blogging clickbait; I’m not breaking any new ground here. But it’s always worth revisiting the question of what, exactly, it is we think we’re supposed to be teaching. Only then can we wrestle with whether or not our grades actually correlate.

Birth of the Blue

My very first blog post opened this way:

If you want to completely derail any meeting of three or more educators – teachers, administrators, curriculum coordinators, outside consultants, or whatever – ask what our priorities should be.
You know, as educators – what are our priorities for the kids? It’s hard to make a good plan without a clear target, so what are we trying to accomplish – you know, ideally?

It was a relatively brief post (hard to imagine now, I know) addressing the difficulty of actually narrowing down our goals as educators. Do we prioritize content? Academic skills? Mindset? Grit? Job skills? Personal hygiene? The ability to work with others? Reading? Writing? Critical thinking? Citizenship? Not putting your entire email in the subject line?

Schools are expected to be at least three dozen different things simultaneously, plus whatever else people think of along the way. (That way, no matter how many things we’re doing well, there are always something for which we can be labeled complete and total failures.) Let’s assume we’re already doing our best with legislative mandates and district goals. These things are generally insufficient, however, to shape the day-to-day details of HOW we teach, let alone WHY we teach.

That’s what I’m wrestling with at the moment.

Success Secession

One of the top 3 or 4 reasons commonly given by teachers for why we do what we do is our desire that students succeed – not just in our classes, but in the so-called “real world.” We have this idea that success outside of school requires the sorts of mindsets and skills we traditionally value. Personal responsibility. Professional appearance. Work ethic. Good citizenship. Effective collaboration. Subject knowledge. Appreciating other points of view. Communication skills. Not smelling weird all the time.

I’m not sure these skills are as universally useful as we’d like to think.

I love Amazon, but is Jeff Bezos insanely rich because of how much personal responsibility he takes for his employees or his commitment to interacting fairly with other entrepreneurs? Does Mark Zuckerberg’s success demonstrate a commitment to good citizenship, honesty, or owning one’s choices? Are the Koch Brothers doing so well because of how respectfully they tolerate other points of view, or is it mostly their belief in democracy and the fundamental equality of all citizens?

Was Donald Trump elected President because of his work ethic, or was it more about his impressive command of relevant facts? Has he been so wildly influential because of his professional communication skills and ability to work well with others, or because he’s learned to show up on time and meet deadlines? The most powerful individual in the world has absolutely none of the skills or basic knowledge we push in public education – and shows zero interest in learning any of it. He is the personification of printing off your essay from Wikipedia then arguing vehemently that you wrote it even though the URL is still at the bottom of every page. The only difference is that Trump essentially became valedictorian as a result and half the school board is now questioning whether your teaching certificate is even real.

He may be the most outlandish example, but he’s hardly alone in his approach.

Studies suggest that overly confident (but largely incompetent) men get promoted far more often than counterparts who actually know stuff and demonstrate effectiveness at their jobs. It’s increasingly difficult to argue that political leadership requires real historic or legal understanding. Our cultural and political trend-setters and thought-leaders may include a few of the best-and-brightest, but they’re hardly the norm. Classrooms still hold up Abraham Lincoln and MLK as American heroes, but real success stories in the 21st century are about Übermensch more than emancipation.

“I have a scheme today… Me at last, me at least, like God Almighty, all for me at last!”

The Better Angels of Our Pedagogy

If we really want our students to be successful, perhaps we should be teaching them complete and total shamelessness – how standards, ethics, or consistency are merely chains to hold them back. We could offer lessons in race-baiting, gas-lighting, and general sophistry. We could teach them how to focus so intently on money and power that they don’t care who they use up or discard to get there, and that legal limitations are for poor people. At the very least, no child should be given a high school diploma without first demonstrating basic competence in manipulating the fears and insecurities of others to sell products or secure influence.

I’m not suggesting that all business owners are evil – merely that being responsible and smart and hard-working aren’t exactly requirements for success in the 21st century. (They may actually be disadvantages if taken too seriously.) Aren’t we doing our students a severe disservice if we refuse to be honest or practical about what success too often looks like in the “real world”?

The alternative, of course, is to continue inflicting our own narrow, idealistic views of how things should work, in hopes they might eventually come true. If that’s what we decide, that’s fine, but let’s be honest about what we’re doing. If what we’re actually teaching is a higher ideal for how society could be, and how capitalism could work, and what success could look like, let’s own that instead of hiding behind “real world” rhetoric. We may not win that argument, but we’ll at least be striving for something better.

I don’t love the real world at the moment. I don’t want to be responsible for preparing kids to “succeed” in it if that means they become more like those currently at the top. I’m willing to risk criticism from the powers-that-be and the perpetually victimized right wing to promote a higher ideal – one built on our founding documents and our national potential more than our Fortune 500 or modern politics.

So… I guess I do want my kids to succeed. I’d just like them to first question what they believe counts as “success.”