The Element of Surprise

Abstract

Seven years old and wise far beyond their years, my brother Tommy and cousin Mickey once hatched a remarkable and outlandish plan for taking over the I had been watching them for a few minutes as they huddled around the kitchen table. One minute, their heads were close together, whispering strategies and adding details to the large paper with what appeared to be schematic drawings of red lines and arrows. The next minute, their arms waved wildly making grand swooping motions. When it was finally too much for me to bear, I ambled over to the table and pulled up a chair. So, what you guys working on, I asked innocently. The boys paused a moment and looked up at me. Tommy slapped his hands on the drawings. Mickey responded, Oh, just a plan to take over the world. My brother smiled proudly, affirming with a bobble-head nod. At 11, I had heard some crazy plans out of these two clowns, but this, I thought, was way over the edge even for them. Since I had assumed responsibility for introducing them to a little thing called reality, I pushed forward. OK. You two planning to take over the Just you? I asked. Yes, we have it all worked out, Mickey said. We going to use two helicopters. I should have known better, but I asked, Would you mind telling me how you plan to accomplish this? They paused and looked at me with what I interpreted as pity for my low IQ. We're counting heavily on the element of they said. The element of surprise. Well, it certainly would be a surprise, I agreed. And you know, there days I wonder if maybe they could have pulled it off if they'd actually had access to helicopters, and their feet could have reached the floor pedals. Surprise as a weapon This encounter was my introduction to the element of surprise as a strategic weapon. Over time, I've seen this weapon used to create panic and to slide some pretty remarkable craziness into schools--No Child Left Behind being one example. This year, I got two more of these surprises. One from the National Council on Teacher Quality (NCTQ); the other from the Kentucky Education Professional Standards Board. One day last summer I sat almost comatose working on one of many reports required by the National Council for Accreditation of Teacher Education (NCATE) as part of its upcoming accreditation visit to Berea College. When the little bell announcing a new e-mail chimed, I was grateful for an excuse to escape the mind-numbing reports if only for a second or two. Reading the e-mail, I was surprised I had not heard the steady thwap, thwap, thwap of helicopter blades circling above me. The e-mail from NCTQ announced it had paired with U.S. News & World Report to rate teacher education programs. NCTQ's purpose was clear, or so the e-mail claimed. The ratings are meant to help aspiring teachers identify programs that will best prepare them for the classroom, aid school districts in knowing where they should target their new hire efforts, and assist education leaders and policy makers in evaluating best and worst practices. They offer no definitions of what they mean by best and worst practices or programs or how I might find out what arbitrary standards they've set. My head dropped into my hands and then onto my keyboard. As it fell, I heard a string of expletives from a voice I later realized was my own. There I sat, giving up my whole summer for the second year in a row to get ready for accreditation only to hear that there would be still another agency to accommodate. …