From the Newaukum River to the Charles

Given the cultural differences between Onalaska, WA and Cambridge, MA, three thousand miles may as well be thirty thousand.

Maybe someday Harvard-bound Brooklyn Sandrindge will make a film about her Onalaska to Cambridge journey. I cycled all around Onalaska, WA last Saturday. There may be more cows in Lewis County than people. It’s as small, rural, and politically conservative as it gets.

I spent the summer between my sophomore and junior college years doing internships in Boston, often taking the “T” to Cambridge on Friday nights to listen to street music, eat pizza by the slice, and browse used book stores.

Cambridge is a wee bit bigger, more urban, and progressive than Onalaska. Sandrindge’s transition will not be easy, but I’m guessing she’ll rise to the occasion.

Another Shrinking Private Liberal Arts College

Strong opening from a Los Angeles Times story on Whittier College’s woes.

“The grounds of Whittier College are lush and the buildings stately. But the once-bustling quad is often all but empty these days, students say, and inside the Wanberg Hall dormitory, carpets smell musty, the WiFi is spotty, and 25 students share two restrooms with toilets that frequently break down and take ages to fix.”

If you’ve been following the decline of modestly endowed private liberal arts colleges, you know the rest of the story, including declining enrollment, plunging revenue, a divided board, a president under fire, the elimination of some sports (and subjects of study), and the selling of the president’s house.

Why would anyone shopping colleges choose one on the financial ropes? That’s the tipping point the bottom third of private liberal arts colleges are trying desperately to avoid. Similarly, if you were wanting to making a charitable contribution to a college or university, would you choose one with an uncertain future?

The Los Angeles Teacher Strike Explained

It’s really the Los Angeles Unified School District support staff that are striking for livable wages. And 89% of the students’ families support them. Because they are intimately familiar with the challenges of trying to make ends meet in one of country’s most expensive cities.

As reported here:

“The parents see their lives mirrored in the struggles of the bus drivers, cafeteria workers and classroom aides walking the picket lines — working-class residents who take on multiple jobs to survive in Southern California.

‘If you’re not making massive six-figure salaries, then, yeah, it’s hard,’ Ms. Cruz, 33, said. “How can you not support their cause?”

The strike has sharply illustrated the economic divide in modern Los Angeles, where low-wage workers can barely scrap together rent while affluent professionals blocks away are willing to pay $13 for a coconut smoothie. In this case, the school district’s working-class parents and school workers are on the same side of the divide.”

Support staff are seeking a 30% increase in pay while the district has countered with 23% over several years.

I Failed

How will large language models/artificial intelligence change K-12 education? Maybe the better question is will large language modes/artificial intelligence change K-12 education? Through teaching, research, and writing, I spent most of my academic career trying to make high schools more democratic, more international, more personal, and more relevant and purposeful.

I’m sad to report that I failed bigly. The fact of the matter is, except for all the surreptitious texting under desks, the typical high school today functions remarkably similar to the way Cypress (California) High School did when I graduated in 1980. What other institution in American life can you say that about?

Lesson learned. K-12 education is incredibly resistant to change. Like YouTube, surely ChatGPX-like devices will have some effect, but probably not enough to fundamentally alter the teacher-student relationship. One education scholar uses an ocean metaphor to explain the futility of education reform. Schedule tweaks, new curriculum initiatives, education technologies, all create changes on the surface of the ocean just as high winds do. Descend to the ocean floor however, meaning the teacher-student relationship in the classroom, and the water’s darkness, chemistry, and animal life are completely unaffected by the tumult on the surface. The teacher still mostly talks and the students listen.

Despite it being so obvious, it wasn’t easy to admit my my failure, you know, professional identity and ego and all. But the consolation is a quiet confidence that I have made a positive difference in a lot of individual teacher’s lives. Despite not having dented their work environment, I have made meaningful contributions to their professional success. I’ve failed, but I’m not a failure.

And even though I’ve admitted defeat and let go of my teacher education identity, I am still helping individual teachers on occasion, just fewer of them. Yesterday, for example, one of my first year writers from Fall 2021, a prospective teacher, wrote me seeking advice. Here’s how she started her missive:

“I hope all is well! I am reaching out to you because I need some advice. I figured you would be an excellent person to reach out to because you are part of the education faculty and have taught abroad and done things I want to do with my life. I also think you won’t sugarcoat things and you will tell me the truth.” 

I liked that she didn’t think I’d “sugarcoat things”. So, in that spirit of keeping it real, I predict high schools in 43 years, make that 2066, will still look and feel pretty damn similar. Given my protein bar consumption, it’s unlikely I’ll live long enough to see if my prediction comes true. I hope it does not.

Postscript: Not an “institution”, but same idea.

Why Did Hamline University Tell Erika Lopez Prater Her Services Were No Longer Needed?

According to this book, American higher education is captive of the Radical Left and the “woke mob” to the detriment of students.

This illuminating case study about an adjunct art history professor who showed a painting of the prophet Muhammad and lost her job suggests some colleges are restricting academic freedom to stem the tide of enrollment decline.

“Arguments over academic freedom have been fought on campuses for years, but they can be especially fraught at small private colleges like Hamline, which are facing shrinking enrollment and growing financial pressures. To attract applicants, many of these colleges have diversified their curriculums and tried to be more welcoming to students who have been historically shut out of higher education.”

It suggests this phenomenon is not the result of a vast left wing conspiracy; instead, it’s demographics plain and simple.

Attempting to slow enrollment decline does not justify giving up on academic freedom. It’s a dead-end strategy with negative ripple effects including declining faculty morale, and quite possibly, fewer promising applicants for faculty positions.

Related: Why Some Students Are Skipping College

Put A Fork In It

The semester is a wrap. My parting words to my students.

“The very end of my first class as a brand new professor at Guilford College in Greensboro, NC ended in a humorous manner. I spoke for about ten minutes, doing my best to tie together all the course’s loose ends. I was pulling out my egghead professor vocab and thought everyone was listening closely. After I finished, Josh raised his hand. ‘Oh great,’ I thought, ‘Josh is going to thank me for the brilliant summary and the course more generally.’ Instead, he said, ‘Dude, you have a pierced ear!’ Then the discussion devolved into why I had never came to class with an earring. Lesson learned, keep the end-of-semester spiel very, very brief.

Price writes that ‘the more we train ourselves to notice delights—the everyday beauties and kindnesses and amusing absurdities, the things that make us laugh or that we feel grateful for—we will feel more positive.’ She goes on to suggest we say ‘delight’ out loud whenever we experience anything that sparks joy. I’m trying to adapt this practice. This morning, on my drive in through the Nisqually Delta, I saw a huge flock of birds flying in ‘V’ formation. I said ‘delight’ to myself. Then I immediately thought of this class and what I wanted to say to you now that we’re at the finishing line.

And here it is. Delight.

It’s been a complete and total delight to get to know each of you individually and collectively. I hope the rest of Year 1 goes well and that we cross paths again sometime in the future.”

Ron