Teachers Aide

We seem to live in an age of endless hand-wringing about the state of education. There are infinite reasons proffered as to why America typically ranks so low compared to other wealthy, industrialized nations.

Having volunteered at my son's school, in multiple elementary grade classrooms, I confess I am unable to pinpoint any one problem at the root of our (alleged) educational malady. But I have noticed some trends that often come up in the conversation, and in no particular order, I offer my observations on them.

It's an oft-quoted truism that children learn better when class sizes are smaller. This has been fairly well proven to be true in K-3 learning, although, the results aren't as clear-cut as common sense might seem to dictate.

In my own observation, class size seems to matter much less than class composition. A large class of well-behaved (in the abstract sense) children is much easier to manage than even a class half its size, filled with unruly behavior. One child throwing a loud temper-tantrum can just as easily derail a class of 15, as it can a class of 25.

The question then becomes, what techniques can a teacher employ to maintain order in their classroom? This is an interesting problem, I've observed, and there probably is no real right answer. But I've certainly seen techniques that are effective...and others that are less so.

But as I look at my own parenting style and skills, I am reminded that our ability as parents to direct our children's behavior becomes more and more limited the older they get. They are, after all, small humans, with all of the complex emotions and incomprehensible decision-making instincts that we adults have, without the benefit of experience and logic to temper them. The more I observe of a day in the classroom, the more I'm convinced that Nature is a far bigger influence on our growth than Nurture.

My son, for example, exhibits numerous traits that I too expressed as a child. Yet he's never observed me directly engaging in such activities or behavior. There are times when he speaks, I hear my own voice reflected, from decades past, saying (virtually) the exact same thing in the exact tone of voice.

You may accuse me here of projecting my own psyche onto my son (and I can't honestly be certain you'd be wrong), but even if that's true...it's a sobering thought. That these patterns, even unconsciously, repeat themselves in the imprint of our offspring.

Perhaps that's the uncomfortable truth at the core of the "problems" we see in the classroom. It's not necessarily a lack of parental engagement, or dysfunctional schools (though those likely play a part); perhaps it's more our inability to understand our own actions and motives. Our own dysfunctions as human beings, reflected back at us through the immutable lens of our children's eyes.

If I'm honest with myself (and I owe you at least that, dear reader), I can't really say that I enjoy my time spent at his school. Don't get me wrong, I want and choose to be there, and I think it's important. I believe I need to model the behavior I expect my son to emulate, and a big part of that is demonstrating that progress is made by the people who show up. But I struggle when I'm there with an overwhelming sense of...melancholy? A profound sense that the struggles and challenges manifested in these children are not problems that can be "solved"; rather they are a fundamental component of who and what humanity is.

That probably sounds far more hopeless than I intend. Rest assured, I have no illusions that the way things are now is the way they have to be. Which is why I'll continue to volunteer and show up. Because if there is any progress to be made, it'll be made by those who do.