AM A meandering kind of thinker. Something comes up for me, and that reminds me of something else, and then remember a third thing, and pretty soon I'm talking about something brand new. Let me take you on a little tour of how that works for me. I'm walking to Albertson's because Ben & Jerry's Frozen Yogurt is on sale--two pints for five dollars. get to the store, it's about seven o'clock at night, and the parking lot is jammed; people are weaving around with their shopping carts through the stream of incoming cars trying to get their groceries to their own cars and go home. And I'm looking at all of these hundreds of people and all of these cars, and suddenly think, I wonder how many of these people could resolve a trigonometric identity. Honest to God, that's what came into my head. from there, this meandering thinker was off to the races. I wonder how many of these people could tell you about the origins of the French Revolution. wonder how many can still diagram a sentence. And then thought, Well, why would care if they could or not? They all have enough money to afford their cars and their groceries; they're getting by. Would they get by any better if they remembered how to construct the perpendicular bisector of a line segment using only a straightedge and a compass? that of course took me right back to the high school that wrote my book about and to all the kids who ever asked why they should bother learning something. Why are we doing this? That was the plaintive cry from the back corners of the room. Why are we doing this? It never came from the front: up front were the kids to whom never occurred to ask that question or who had given up asking And the arguments that came back from the teachers were never very compelling to me. They said things like, There's lots of careers that use algebra, though they never offered a specific example. Or, when the question came up with regard to conjugating French verbs, would be met with, Well, you might travel to France someday. For these kids from rural Northern California, even the City of Lights was neither a likely nor an especially desirable destination. Their picture of France amounted to the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, and a language that made them say things like, Hello, name myself Stacy. How do you name yourself? Why are we doing this? the kids ask. So let's ask ourselves why we have them doing all of these crazy things. When think about what high school is for, remember that John Ogbu, the educational anthropologist, wrote that, whatever else education may be, from the standpoint of society is a of children for adult life as adults in their society conceive it. don't know, John. Here am in the Albertson's parking lot, willing to bet my Ben & Jerry's and most of my paycheck that not one of the next three people see could name the first European to sail around the Cape of Good Hope. Adult life as adults in our society conceive it doesn't typically include answering trivia questions like that, unless we're standing on a stage across from Alex Trebek. (By the way, was Vasco da Gama in 1497, and yes, had to look up.) But let's give John Ogbu another reading and another chance: Whatever else education may be, from the standpoint of society is a of children for adult life as adults in their society conceive it. think that's true, but the problem we have, in our very diverse society, is that Ogbu's phrase preparation for has many different meanings, based on a lot of potential adulthoods. think we need to make those adulthoods explicit so that we're not working at cross-purposes. So I'm going to do two things here. I'm going to start out by telling you what think a successful adulthood is, and then I'm going to tell you--based on the evidence of my own and other people's research--what our education system says that a successful adulthood is. …
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Mar 1, 2008
Franck Cochoy 
Open Access