I loved the Ezra Klein podcast that began all this. I’ve loved reconnecting with my old friends here, and this book discussion has been the catalyst for that. I’ve loved the fresh way Angela and Faith have opened the discussion for the two sections we’ve looked at so far, and the exchanges we’ve had as a result. I was very moved by the posts Faith wrote about their children, and the way Faith so thoughtfully introduced Part 1.
But this morning I picked up ‘The Disengaged Teen’, to read Part 1. I’ve been telling myself to do this for weeks now, and keep finding other things to do.
I tried this morning, but I couldn’t push myself through. I felt like a disengaged teen myself. I recognise the truth of almost all of what I’m reading, but I don’t feel in the slightest fired up about the detail. The stories of the individual students – Kia, Mateo, Emily, Stella etc – all have the ring of truth; I’ve known so many students like them, suffering school in ways exactly like them. I’ve written about similar students myself. I agree with the authors’ explanations and the critique of current schooling systems and practices.
So why am I so disengaged?
Is it because there’s nothing new in all this? Is it because the book is written for young teachers and parents? I can’t put my finger on it.
What am I missing?
Maybe, having written this, I’ll have got something out of my system and I’ll be ready to make a more constructive contribution soon.
I've been sitting with these thoughts and this feeling since writing the above.
One of the things the authors talk about is the way the subject matter of the curriculum is often mistimed; too often students are taught things they're either not yet ready for or which they already know; the subject matter is unconnected in some significant way from the questions that are preoccupying them.
AI and learning is one of my current preoccupations, and it was one of the central foci of the conversation between Ezra Klein and Rebecca Winthrop. The book (so far) is not about that.
Maybe that's why I'm struggling to connect with this chapter?
This revelation of Steve’s current ambivalence towards reading further has somehow struck a chord in me, and I’ve now picked up the book.
I’ve made it through the introduction and am wrestling with various thoughts. Some of you may have seen some version of this post in email form, but Steve has attempted some arm twisting to encourage me to (learn how to) post it here, and noone can quite twist my arm like Steve...
As a current secondary teacher and a member of my school's leadership team, I struggle a lot with finding the overlapping circles in the Venn Diagram of quality teaching, professionalism, work life balance, job satisfaction, student learning, student engagement and whatever else is supposed to be thrown in there, and so I suppose I’m coming to this conversation from the perspective of someone who is very much reflecting on the role I play to harness the potential engagement of students and also work with them on the development of their identity capital, while at the same time still grappling a lot with teacher identity, a subject that has much exercised my thoughts over the years.
That analogy of the school day to align with the careers of people outside school was a bit of a horrifying articulation of what I know a lot teachers struggle with - our days are also subject to this highly stop start, task interrupted style of rigid operating. And it’s interesting (depressing?) to think about the way systems really drive us into a lot of patterns that probably don't help us help our students. We’re perhaps not in the Dickensian era but a lot of the industrial model of education still applies, at least in mainstream settings in my jurisdiction.
Angela's reflection on the introduction was helpful to me in terms of thinking about the question of what is the role of the teacher and where is it that we are helping our students to journey?
An observation, as perhaps at the moment this is what I have time to commit to. The most engaged teaching and learning I’ve been a part of with my students for a while is considering the work of TS Eliot. And although we have of course done this within the confines of a specific system and curriculum, I notice that students are seduced by the bigger picture of this work and the uncertainty it explores. They’re teenagers, they recognize angst when they see it and know what despair feels like (to them, but some of them do genuinely really know it).
But what are they drawn to? That hope of redemption and a pathway forward? By the end they can see the narrative of Eliot’s life and perhaps in our post-Covid era of global turmoil, they see that the unknown and the uncertain does not have to paralyze us if we have some form of faith in a way out. Timely. Even for those who don’t want to have faith in religion the way Eliot did.
For about 3 years in a row now I would say this is where I feel I have best seen students learn meaningfully in relation to the world they live in, beyond the legislative requirement that they do so. So for me as a teacher and philosopher (barely) I wonder….how can I help others find this too, and earlier than the point at which the system I work in lets them interact with such meaty texts…?
Thank you all for the thoughtful writing you have shared in posts and comments. I am still making my way thru much of it, but will find my way into substack at some stage.
Hannah! Because you and I talk from time to time about our lives and work (despite the geographical distance between us), I know that when you write about the deep way your students have responded to T.S.Eliot, you’re not talking about privileged private school students in an inner city school. These are rural students in a government high school. I find this so exciting and moving and encouraging … and such a testament to so many things: you as a teacher, the ongoing relevance of literature to those for whom life isn’t always easy, and so on. I’m so glad you’ve written here about some of the work you’re doing and about the meaning your students are finding in the writing of people like T.S.Eliot. Voices from different eras making contact.
So grounded and wise Faith. These thoughts stood out:
1. "When a child resists, when they withdraw or appear disinterested - what are they protecting? What’s been lost? What’s no longer safe or meaningful? Similarly, when a high-performing child excels outwardly while crumbling inwardly, as so many Achievers do, the problem isn’t their lack of effort - it’s the burden of perfection, the fear of failure, the narrowing of identity around performance."
2. "I see all four modes reflected constantly in my work in outdoor education - particularly how readily children shift modes when given permission to learn differently."
3. "For me, The Disengaged Teen is not so much a solution as it is a provocation - a reminder that disengagement is not a failure of the child, but a signal from the system."
There is so much distressing about the world at the moment. That there are a zillion teachers like you on the ground thinking similar thoughts and working in similar ways – and writers writing books like this one getting us to think again about what motivates students to explore – is heartening.
I share Steve's resistance to reading, but yesterday, I set aside some time and made inroads into the section. Then i tossed the book and other stuff into the back seat of my car, where my water bottle leaked, soaked the book, and caused some notes to bleed purple all over the pages. It's currently drying out and I will return to it.
It strikes me that I am having parallel experiences around this book. One is a powerful response to Faith's recent post. The other is my response to the book itself. More about these later.
I'm currently living in the war-ravaged hellscape of Portland OR that Trump is going to save by sending in the National Guard. <cue eyeroll here) Never fear, The folks who organize the World Naked Bike Ride are mounting an emergency ride in response. One of our senators posted this on Instagram the other day: https://www.instagram.com/reel/DPRqINoj-Ck/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA== Even those protesting at the ICE facility-- a square block within the 145 sq. miles that comprise our little city-- are doing things like holding tea parties in the midst of protests. Needless to say, it preoccupies me, and I find it hard to focus on typical daily stuff when there is other work to be done.
That war zone looks like hell on earth Karen. [There is something genuinely terrifying about the way the White House dwells inside a reality entirely of its own making, a practice which then creates another quite dangerous reality.]
I'm waiting for the front to shift to NYC and perhaps my own sanctuary city of Buffalo. My husband is a federal employee as well, working with no hope for pay until this shutdown is over. It's very hard to stay focused on my reading, but I have long travel this week, good stretches of time to sit with this book, and some great nudges from all of you here. Excellent points to ponder and tensions, too. Be right back with some thoughts....
It struck me, reading this, that passengers are not necessarily doing it wrong. Neither are resistors. I didn't feel that the text illuminated this as well as I would have liked, though. I am appreciating your invitation to consider the system here, Faith. School, as most of us know it, was designed for very specific kinds of learners. The utility of those four modes is dependent on our acceptance of the fact that disengagement and resistance are valid responses that make good sense. I am behind on my reading, but I'll be interested to see how those responses are viewed and treated in the chapters ahead. Is about changing the kids? The teachers and the way they teach? Or...the system itself?
There are so many teachers finding ways to loosen the system's hold. Many of them are here on Substack: The Broken Copier, Engaged Education, Curmuducation, How to be Brave, to mention just a few.
So many teachers. Teachers like Faith.
Back in 2009 I was teaching a class of Achievers. There was considerable resistance from a number of them to my attempts to subvert the system. One evening I opened my inbox to read the following from one of the more articulate students:
“.. in Years 11 and 12, it's barely even about the learning at all. ... In most subjects, we learn how to pass the exams... how to structure an essay, how to deliver a speech the way they want it, etc. School is all about how you play the game these days. It's all about doing what you can to get an A, regardless of what you're learning.”
This is just one aspect of the system, I realise.
But I agree, Angela.
It’s not essentially about the students. Or the teachers.
I simply cannot stop thinking about the simple/ powerful/ depressing (?) truth of this statement.
I’ve now finished this section of the book. In all the case studies of the students shared, I could see this wonderful invitation to reflect on those I have taught and also the way I teach. I think about the pockets of good work Steve and Faith have previously mentioned, and the theme that seems to be emerging in everyone’s shared comments that within your own family structures you find yourselves having to strategize how best to help your children navigate the system.
I’m not a parent, so I come at this without sharing that experience, but I feel the frustration around the constraints we all operate in. Extremely interested to see whether the jEngagement Toolkit brings insight that I might adapt and implement in the classroom (surely yes), and then whether or not I will find ways to do this and rebel sufficiently analyst the systems I operate in so as to serve the many and often competing masters of student autonomy, agency and belonging, standardized curriculum/exam structures and “insert current academic trend buzzword” focus here. I am less optimistic about that.
Be right back, just screaming into the void for a while…
While you're screaming into the void, Hannah :-) I'm thinking about something you mentioned in another comment, something with very un-void-like resonance.
You wrote: "The most engaged teaching and learning I’ve been a part of with my students for a while is considering the work of TS Eliot. And although we have of course done this within the confines of a specific system and curriculum, I notice that students are seduced by the bigger picture of this work and the uncertainty it explores. They’re teenagers, they recognize angst when they see it and know what despair feels like (to them, but some of them do genuinely really know it)."
This, it seems to me, is an example of the (many?) ways teachers find to work around the system. Good people not (always) being defeated by bad systems?
So I'd love to hear more from you, Hannah, about what happened in this TS Eliot unit. What poems? What did the seduction you mentioned actually look like? What happens when teenagers experience a resonance in poetry written a hundred years ago?
A confession and a dilemma.
I loved the Ezra Klein podcast that began all this. I’ve loved reconnecting with my old friends here, and this book discussion has been the catalyst for that. I’ve loved the fresh way Angela and Faith have opened the discussion for the two sections we’ve looked at so far, and the exchanges we’ve had as a result. I was very moved by the posts Faith wrote about their children, and the way Faith so thoughtfully introduced Part 1.
But this morning I picked up ‘The Disengaged Teen’, to read Part 1. I’ve been telling myself to do this for weeks now, and keep finding other things to do.
I tried this morning, but I couldn’t push myself through. I felt like a disengaged teen myself. I recognise the truth of almost all of what I’m reading, but I don’t feel in the slightest fired up about the detail. The stories of the individual students – Kia, Mateo, Emily, Stella etc – all have the ring of truth; I’ve known so many students like them, suffering school in ways exactly like them. I’ve written about similar students myself. I agree with the authors’ explanations and the critique of current schooling systems and practices.
So why am I so disengaged?
Is it because there’s nothing new in all this? Is it because the book is written for young teachers and parents? I can’t put my finger on it.
What am I missing?
Maybe, having written this, I’ll have got something out of my system and I’ll be ready to make a more constructive contribution soon.
I've been sitting with these thoughts and this feeling since writing the above.
One of the things the authors talk about is the way the subject matter of the curriculum is often mistimed; too often students are taught things they're either not yet ready for or which they already know; the subject matter is unconnected in some significant way from the questions that are preoccupying them.
AI and learning is one of my current preoccupations, and it was one of the central foci of the conversation between Ezra Klein and Rebecca Winthrop. The book (so far) is not about that.
Maybe that's why I'm struggling to connect with this chapter?
And on the subject of AI and learning ... or more specifically on AI and writing ... I've just listened to a wonderful conversation with John Warner about his book "More than words". The conversation can be found here: https://open.spotify.com/episode/1KfIxxozZvkWd2CHFMRN0e?si=g_Xd3FvlQw-inff1IH1W9w
This revelation of Steve’s current ambivalence towards reading further has somehow struck a chord in me, and I’ve now picked up the book.
I’ve made it through the introduction and am wrestling with various thoughts. Some of you may have seen some version of this post in email form, but Steve has attempted some arm twisting to encourage me to (learn how to) post it here, and noone can quite twist my arm like Steve...
As a current secondary teacher and a member of my school's leadership team, I struggle a lot with finding the overlapping circles in the Venn Diagram of quality teaching, professionalism, work life balance, job satisfaction, student learning, student engagement and whatever else is supposed to be thrown in there, and so I suppose I’m coming to this conversation from the perspective of someone who is very much reflecting on the role I play to harness the potential engagement of students and also work with them on the development of their identity capital, while at the same time still grappling a lot with teacher identity, a subject that has much exercised my thoughts over the years.
That analogy of the school day to align with the careers of people outside school was a bit of a horrifying articulation of what I know a lot teachers struggle with - our days are also subject to this highly stop start, task interrupted style of rigid operating. And it’s interesting (depressing?) to think about the way systems really drive us into a lot of patterns that probably don't help us help our students. We’re perhaps not in the Dickensian era but a lot of the industrial model of education still applies, at least in mainstream settings in my jurisdiction.
Angela's reflection on the introduction was helpful to me in terms of thinking about the question of what is the role of the teacher and where is it that we are helping our students to journey?
An observation, as perhaps at the moment this is what I have time to commit to. The most engaged teaching and learning I’ve been a part of with my students for a while is considering the work of TS Eliot. And although we have of course done this within the confines of a specific system and curriculum, I notice that students are seduced by the bigger picture of this work and the uncertainty it explores. They’re teenagers, they recognize angst when they see it and know what despair feels like (to them, but some of them do genuinely really know it).
But what are they drawn to? That hope of redemption and a pathway forward? By the end they can see the narrative of Eliot’s life and perhaps in our post-Covid era of global turmoil, they see that the unknown and the uncertain does not have to paralyze us if we have some form of faith in a way out. Timely. Even for those who don’t want to have faith in religion the way Eliot did.
For about 3 years in a row now I would say this is where I feel I have best seen students learn meaningfully in relation to the world they live in, beyond the legislative requirement that they do so. So for me as a teacher and philosopher (barely) I wonder….how can I help others find this too, and earlier than the point at which the system I work in lets them interact with such meaty texts…?
Thank you all for the thoughtful writing you have shared in posts and comments. I am still making my way thru much of it, but will find my way into substack at some stage.
Hannah! Because you and I talk from time to time about our lives and work (despite the geographical distance between us), I know that when you write about the deep way your students have responded to T.S.Eliot, you’re not talking about privileged private school students in an inner city school. These are rural students in a government high school. I find this so exciting and moving and encouraging … and such a testament to so many things: you as a teacher, the ongoing relevance of literature to those for whom life isn’t always easy, and so on. I’m so glad you’ve written here about some of the work you’re doing and about the meaning your students are finding in the writing of people like T.S.Eliot. Voices from different eras making contact.
So grounded and wise Faith. These thoughts stood out:
1. "When a child resists, when they withdraw or appear disinterested - what are they protecting? What’s been lost? What’s no longer safe or meaningful? Similarly, when a high-performing child excels outwardly while crumbling inwardly, as so many Achievers do, the problem isn’t their lack of effort - it’s the burden of perfection, the fear of failure, the narrowing of identity around performance."
2. "I see all four modes reflected constantly in my work in outdoor education - particularly how readily children shift modes when given permission to learn differently."
3. "For me, The Disengaged Teen is not so much a solution as it is a provocation - a reminder that disengagement is not a failure of the child, but a signal from the system."
There is so much distressing about the world at the moment. That there are a zillion teachers like you on the ground thinking similar thoughts and working in similar ways – and writers writing books like this one getting us to think again about what motivates students to explore – is heartening.
I share Steve's resistance to reading, but yesterday, I set aside some time and made inroads into the section. Then i tossed the book and other stuff into the back seat of my car, where my water bottle leaked, soaked the book, and caused some notes to bleed purple all over the pages. It's currently drying out and I will return to it.
It strikes me that I am having parallel experiences around this book. One is a powerful response to Faith's recent post. The other is my response to the book itself. More about these later.
I'm currently living in the war-ravaged hellscape of Portland OR that Trump is going to save by sending in the National Guard. <cue eyeroll here) Never fear, The folks who organize the World Naked Bike Ride are mounting an emergency ride in response. One of our senators posted this on Instagram the other day: https://www.instagram.com/reel/DPRqINoj-Ck/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA== Even those protesting at the ICE facility-- a square block within the 145 sq. miles that comprise our little city-- are doing things like holding tea parties in the midst of protests. Needless to say, it preoccupies me, and I find it hard to focus on typical daily stuff when there is other work to be done.
That war zone looks like hell on earth Karen. [There is something genuinely terrifying about the way the White House dwells inside a reality entirely of its own making, a practice which then creates another quite dangerous reality.]
I'm waiting for the front to shift to NYC and perhaps my own sanctuary city of Buffalo. My husband is a federal employee as well, working with no hope for pay until this shutdown is over. It's very hard to stay focused on my reading, but I have long travel this week, good stretches of time to sit with this book, and some great nudges from all of you here. Excellent points to ponder and tensions, too. Be right back with some thoughts....
It struck me, reading this, that passengers are not necessarily doing it wrong. Neither are resistors. I didn't feel that the text illuminated this as well as I would have liked, though. I am appreciating your invitation to consider the system here, Faith. School, as most of us know it, was designed for very specific kinds of learners. The utility of those four modes is dependent on our acceptance of the fact that disengagement and resistance are valid responses that make good sense. I am behind on my reading, but I'll be interested to see how those responses are viewed and treated in the chapters ahead. Is about changing the kids? The teachers and the way they teach? Or...the system itself?
The system itself!
There are so many teachers finding ways to loosen the system's hold. Many of them are here on Substack: The Broken Copier, Engaged Education, Curmuducation, How to be Brave, to mention just a few.
So many teachers. Teachers like Faith.
Back in 2009 I was teaching a class of Achievers. There was considerable resistance from a number of them to my attempts to subvert the system. One evening I opened my inbox to read the following from one of the more articulate students:
“.. in Years 11 and 12, it's barely even about the learning at all. ... In most subjects, we learn how to pass the exams... how to structure an essay, how to deliver a speech the way they want it, etc. School is all about how you play the game these days. It's all about doing what you can to get an A, regardless of what you're learning.”
This is just one aspect of the system, I realise.
But I agree, Angela.
It’s not essentially about the students. Or the teachers.
It’s the system.
And bad systems beat good people every time.
I simply cannot stop thinking about the simple/ powerful/ depressing (?) truth of this statement.
I’ve now finished this section of the book. In all the case studies of the students shared, I could see this wonderful invitation to reflect on those I have taught and also the way I teach. I think about the pockets of good work Steve and Faith have previously mentioned, and the theme that seems to be emerging in everyone’s shared comments that within your own family structures you find yourselves having to strategize how best to help your children navigate the system.
I’m not a parent, so I come at this without sharing that experience, but I feel the frustration around the constraints we all operate in. Extremely interested to see whether the jEngagement Toolkit brings insight that I might adapt and implement in the classroom (surely yes), and then whether or not I will find ways to do this and rebel sufficiently analyst the systems I operate in so as to serve the many and often competing masters of student autonomy, agency and belonging, standardized curriculum/exam structures and “insert current academic trend buzzword” focus here. I am less optimistic about that.
Be right back, just screaming into the void for a while…
While you're screaming into the void, Hannah :-) I'm thinking about something you mentioned in another comment, something with very un-void-like resonance.
You wrote: "The most engaged teaching and learning I’ve been a part of with my students for a while is considering the work of TS Eliot. And although we have of course done this within the confines of a specific system and curriculum, I notice that students are seduced by the bigger picture of this work and the uncertainty it explores. They’re teenagers, they recognize angst when they see it and know what despair feels like (to them, but some of them do genuinely really know it)."
This, it seems to me, is an example of the (many?) ways teachers find to work around the system. Good people not (always) being defeated by bad systems?
So I'd love to hear more from you, Hannah, about what happened in this TS Eliot unit. What poems? What did the seduction you mentioned actually look like? What happens when teenagers experience a resonance in poetry written a hundred years ago?
And I can feel entire pieces of it withering…collapsing…and I’m not sure how I feel about this.