Plain Stupid

The Kentucky legislature is considering prohibiting young people from dropping out of school before the age of 18. (It's 16 now). And a major newspaper is saying hooray, citing such "facts" as that high school graduates make more money than dropouts and that dropouts are more likely to end up in jail than are those with diplomas. (One of my friends, a criminal justice professor, wonders whether it's osmosis that's the reason two extra years of boredom can be so beneficial. However, if osmosis, or something equivalent, doesn't work my friend says that two extra years of forced acquiescence will be good preparation for jail.)

Dee Hock, the founder of the Visa credit card organization, and author of the remarkable book, "Birth of the Chaordic Age", posed the question as to why he sometimes resorted to top-down command and control methods even though he knew that such methods were the opposite of what is needed. His answer was "Plain Stupid!"

Everybody will agree, if they think about it, that marking time in a classroom is not the same thing is learning. Our best educators have, for many years, been telling us that education is effective only when the students are active participants. But we keep right on with the top-down methods: more standardized testing, more coercion of teachers and students, more of the same old thing. More "Plain Stupid!"

I have confessed to some stupid things I've done: when I was an ambitious young bureaucrat I regularly used top-down coercive methods and thought that was all right. But I didn't call myself stupid; I was saying that it is in the nature of political/bureaucratic hierarchies to issue top-down mandates. I'm now ready to admit, however, that our problem is not merely a systems problem, but it is rooted in human nature: we like to feel special.

Yale professor Jeffrey Sonnenfeld, in an article in "Newsweek", (January 31), helps put things in perspective. I quote briefly from Sonnenfeld: "Top leaders, like artists, are fueled by the desire to leave a lasting legacy. I have termed this the 'heroic mission'. In his book, ‘The Denial of Death', Ernest Becker wrote that the leader is on a quest for immortality -- he or she must stand out, be a hero, make the biggest possible contribution to work life, show that he counts more than anyone or anything else".

Looking at education from the vantage point of the legacy of a political leader -- or a corporate leader or a high-ranking bureaucrat -- children's learning is not what’s important: the leader needs to satisfy his "heroic mission" imperatives. It is impossible -- obviously impossible -- for people or organizations who don't know a child as an individual to be of as much help to that child as can, say, a grandmother. A child and a grandmother (or, even better, a combination of grandmother, parents, neighbors, and dedicated schoolteachers) can do highly important learning, but that doesn't translate into "heroic mission" credits.

What I'm saying -- what I think I've learned -- is that there is a fundamental conflict between what children need and what "heroic mission" adults are seeking. That conflict, as of now, is being resolved in favor of adults. And that's Plain Stupid!

We know, as one of my wise old friends puts it, that "There are two kinds of governments -- those in which the citizens fear the government and those in which the government fears the citizens." King George III believed that our Founding Fathers were supposed to fear him; it took a war for the King to learn his lesson. We don't face a war over fear -- at least, I don't think we do—but we do face conflict. We citizens -- We the People –can minimize the conflict by helping our government hierarchies and the corporate bosses understand that top-down techniques of coercion do damage to children's learning.

The best way to achieve the needed understanding is to show that learning through active participation is superior to learning by coercion. We can do this, as one important example, by listening to Grace Lee Boggs, that remarkable lady in Detroit whose life's work is proof that children can be assets rather than problems. As Grace has demonstrated, young people can be highly valuable partners in community-based social entrepreneurship. As other important sources of understanding, we can draw upon examples from the best of the world of homeschooling, from "alternative" schools, from vocational agriculture, and from other sources in which partnership outranks fear. (I regularly cite, as one of my favorite examples, the Linefork community in southeastern Kentucky, where young people and elders are working as partners in restoring the American Chestnut tree to the forests. That example is spreading.)

The political part of the equation will, I feel sure, essentially take care of itself as youngsters and adults become partners in real-life projects. There are somewhere in the neighborhood of 70 million grandparents in the country, every one of which is on the side of partnership rather than fear. (And that doesn't count the many millions more people who have grand parent type love and respect for young people.) I don't believe there is a politician in the country who would willingly advocate techniques of fear while grandparents are watching.

David Mathews of the Kettering Foundation puts the political issue this way: "Citizens are not customers of government, they own the store". He is correct.

The bottom line is clear: if we don't replace fear with thoughtful respect for children, we are Plain Stupid!

Bob Cornett

Let's Change Directions

I just now read in the newspaper that the new Governor of New Jersey proclaimed his intent to fix public education by such things as mandating more tests and paying teachers on the basis of student scores on the mandated tests. That Governor is but an example: politicians all over the country are making similar pronouncements.

The effect of doing what those politicians say they're going to do is to change the purpose of public schools from serving children to serving adults. That obviously makes no sense from an educational point of view. (Anybody who doubts that what those politicians are saying is senseless needs to listen to what the education journalist Marion Brady has to say on the subject. Brady's article in the Washington Post on January 10 is an excellent place to start.) But politicians listen to their own drummer, and their drummer plays to a political beat.

I think I know why politicians (and bureaucrats) advocate senseless public education policies: they don't know any better. The way our political/bureaucratic systems work is that the politicians get their information from people who come into their political world; and that political world is about power and status. As a small recent example from my own experience, a Kentucky legislator asked me where I stand on the issue of "charter schools", which is pending before the Legislature. My answer was that I regard the issue as more fundamental than "yea" or "nay" to that particular piece of legislation. That answer didn't help the legislator a bit; the system he works within requires that issues be defined in the context of his political world. (Incidentally, I regard that legislator as a good one; it's not him I'm faulting -- it's the system).

Abraham Maslow, who was a prominent pioneer in the field of psychology -- he was highly regarded in the business world for his insights on management -- gave us a quotation that helps sum up our problem: "If your only tool is a hammer, before long everything looks like a nail". Power -- the power to coerce and the power to reward -- is the hammer of the political/bureaucratic system. What that New Jersey governor is saying -- senseless though it is from a learning point of view -- is a predictable product of the political system. (As one of my old friends puts it, "Politicians like to get credit for doing good things for the people". The Governor is telling the people that he will fix the schools, and that the citizens need to do little more than appreciate him for doing that job.)

What I'm saying about the difference between politicians and citizens is something I've been saying for a long time. But I've seen the difference in actual operation; and what I've seen has convinced me that my own time and energy needs to focus on communities where the citizens are actively connecting the young people with the life in their community. My best example right now is a community I've talked about before: Linefork, located at the base of Pine Mountain in Letcher County, Kentucky. I believe Linefork is shaping up to be an excellent example of what small communities can accomplish when they look to their own strengths. Linefork is very much an Appalachian community, and the self-reliant Scots-Irish culture that has been in those mountains since right after the Revolutionary War may well be largely responsible for what I see happening. If that is correct -- if the Scots-Irish culture is indeed a positive force -- Linefork can set an example not only for Appalachian communities but for rural communities wherever a sense of self-reliance is alive and well.

I think I need to tell the Linefork story -- and the story of the example that I believe Linefork will be providing. I'm not talking about a scholarly report -- I want to see the spirit of Linefork everywhere -- but I think I can be factually accurate.

We may want to change the name of this blog -- I've toyed with "Appalachian Generations Connected" -- but let's think about that later. For now, I'll plan to emphasize Linefork and what it inspires

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I've told in earlier postings about Linefork's involvement with the return of the American Chestnut tree to the Appalachian forests, but I haven't told that story well enough. I'll have more about Chestnuts and Linefork in a week or two..

Bob Cornett

Some Notes to Myself

I'm writing these "notes" to help clarify my own thinking, but I will share my thoughts with a few colleagues and I post the "notes" on the blog.

My thinking has changed since I first became involved with school "reform" some two decades ago; and some of my thinking has become clearer as a result of recent conversations with my oldest grandson, Roy—he has a deeper understanding of social network kinds of things than does anybody else I know.

Roy knows that I have long been critical of the top-down control of education reform efforts. And he knows that I have regarded the self-serving nature of political/bureaucratic systems as the root of the problem. He agrees with me when I use the word "foolish" to describe the notion that schooling and learning are the same thing; we agree that at least as much learning takes place outside of school as inside. And I believe I have convinced Roy that, because the public school reform hierarchies have strong vested interests in the status quo, effective change cannot come from the top down but must come from an active and informed citizenry.

What Roy and I had not talked much about, however, is what I have come to see as the necessary interconnection between public policy generally and education. Some very smart people have been saying that our country has passed the crest of its success and influence and is headed downhill. But some other very smart people are saying that the citizenry is capable of reclaiming the leadership role that has been the basic part of our democracy. As I indicated to Roy, I tend to find myself on the side of the optimists, and a good part of my optimism is based upon the self-reliant independence that I see in lots of citizens. James Webb, who is now a United States Senator from Virginia, makes a very strong case, in his book, "Born Fighting", that the Scots-Irish culture is alive and well in much of the country, and that that culture is a significant source of citizen strength.

I want to agree with Webb; I grew up in a section of southeastern Kentucky where the Scots-Irish legacy is as strong as it gets anywhere. When I think about my own ancestors and, for that matter, the people I grew up with, I don't believe that we citizens -- We the People -- will allow ourselves to be run over by political/bureaucratic hierarchies. Not if we know what is going on. But Roy raised a question that I regard as the fundamental issue that our country faces: Will we citizens come to understand?

We Kentuckians have been well positioned to observe the recent election and  reactions to it -- we have several nationally prominent politicians including, in Rand Paul, probably the most visible of the so-called "tea party" candidates. What we saw during the election campaign were, above all, professional political salesmen from out of state selling candidates the way hucksters used to sell soap; the campaign had essentially nothing to do with governance. (As one fellow put it, they were selling candidates the way they sell Viagra: "Buy our stuff and it will make you feel like Superman".)

There has been little or nothing about the election or its aftermath to warrant optimism for the future. But I have been telling myself that the Internet gives us citizens information tools that we've never had before: we can come together at the grassroots level without being dependent upon hierarchies for our information. Roy tells me that I'm oversimplifying the situation. He says that sometimes the Internet is not serving to bring people together but is doing the opposite. Roy showed me, to help make his point, how he has prepared his fancy cell phone (I think it's called an i-Pad) to select the information that he wants to read. The very fact of putting the information into predetermined categories means that Roy already knows something about the information he is receiving; he is, in the nature of the beast that is his gadget, excluding from his attention whatever is not already familiar to him. And, even more to the point, he is interacting mostly with people who already agree with him. Instead of connections being widened they are being narrowed (according to Roy).

I conclude from what Roy tells me that the Internet will not by itself fix our problems -- it will not give us the informed citizenry that we need. But that doesn't mean that the Internet cannot be a useful tool. Citizens who share common objectives can and do enhance their knowledge through interaction. But the key is in the shared objectives rather than the technology..

There are many ways to express the need for common objectives, but I especially like some terminology that David Brooks of the New York Times used in his December 9 column. Here are some of Brooks' words: "Over the past week we've seen the big differences between cluster liberals and network liberals. Cluster liberals (like cluster conservatives) view politics as a battle between implacable opponents. As a result, they believe victory is achieved through maximum unity. Psychologically, they tend to value loyalty and solidarity. They tend to angle toward solutions in which philosophical lines are clearly drawn and partisan might can be bluntly applied. Network liberals share the same goals and emerge from the same movement. But they tend to believe -- the nation being as diverse as it is and the Constitution saying what it does -- that politics is a complex jockeying of ideas and interests."

The task before us is more a "network" than a "cluster" job; rescuing our country from decline requires us all. That task, however, seems too vague to get hold of—not much will happen if all we do is talk about such things as networks. But the hierarchies are unwittingly giving some help; they are not only regarding us citizens as being too dumb to matter, they're making their attitudes obvious. That, in turn, gives us a clear basis for common cause: we -- We the People --believe that we do matter.

A recent visit with some young relatives can help illustrate a highly valuable source of network strength.  Roy has a five month old son, Miller, and Miller has not yet learned to crawl. I thought he was ready to learn, so I got down on the floor with him, turned him on his stomach in crawling position, and put his pacifier about six inches out of his reach. Miller stretched his arms as far as they would stretch but he didn't use his knees to move so he couldn't get the pacifier. I didn't want to push him any further on his first lesson, so I handed him the pacifier and got up off the floor. Looking around at the dozen or so people in the room, I realized that they were somewhat amazed; they had apparently never seen an old man helping a baby learn to crawl. What those onlookers did not know is that what Miller and I had done was perfectly natural, the kind of thing that has gone on since the beginning of the human race.

Miller's crawling lesson is of direct significance only to me and Miller (and our family and friends).  But what that lesson can symbolize is of significance to every grandparent (and grandchild) in the country. We matter -- we matter to the children and the children matter to us -- and that's the way nature designed things. When the hierarchies attempt to dismiss us as being too dumb to be relevant, they are taking on a deeply imbedded part of human nature.

I don't say that the natural relationship between children and elders is the only thing that is necessary to fix our democracy. Much of what is done in public schools is necessary, as is much of what economists and other experts do. And the political system, even at its best, is complex. What I do say, however, is that subordinating citizens to hierarchies is a sure road to failure. In the case of education, what matters the most is how well the children are prepared for life and learning; and this means that the natural partnerships that link children and elders are to be cherished, not run over.

I'm not talking about pie-in-the-sky. I've seen firsthand what happens when communities come together in common purpose. On Linefork Creek in Letcher County, Kentucky, a tiny mountain community is serving as a beautiful example for the nation on how young people and adults can restore the American Chestnut tree to the Appalachian forests ( those trees were supreme until they were essentially wiped out by blight some six to seven decades ago). I've seen some young people and adults in a small community in the mountain region of northeastern Alabama publishing the town's newspaper, operating the town's hardware store, and otherwise doing work that is important to the community. I've seen some so-called "alternative" students in Battle Creek, Michigan, working with adults on projects that matter to the community. I've seen young people and adults working as partners on community gardens in Detroit (as a result of the leadership of Grace Lee Boggs and her late husband, Jimmy Boggs). I've seen children and adults collaborating in enjoying bluegrass music; some of this has been at a music camp that is part of my family's bluegrass music festival -- the Festival of the Bluegrass -- which we have held for thirty-seven years .And I've seen more. (And lots and lots of people have seen lots and lots more.)

When the citizens come together in a cause that benefits everybody -- that is the case in the examples I've cited -- the relationship between hierarchies and citizens changes fundamentally: the hierarchies come to where the citizens are. The best of the people in the hierarchies -- those who are capable of providing effective leadership -- like it when the communities take the initiative. And the less- than- best of the people in hierarchies also come down to join the citizens—they understand that it is in their own best interest to join the citizens.

I view the debate over "charter schools" as an illustration of the difference between top-down and grassroots. Lots of pressure is being put on states to transfer schools from the control of public education hierarchies to schools with charters, and this pressure comes from a variety of sources. The US Department of Education is using grant money to push charters. A number of foundations, including the Gates foundation, are encouraging charters. And some business organizations are pushing charters.

Whether a particular charter school is better or worse than a particular public school depends (of course) on factors that go far beyond whether a "charter" hangs on a wall at the school. But the notion that hierarchical power ought to be used says, in effect, that government functionaries know best. When the US Department of Education, the Gates people, business organizations, and others seek to mandate charter schools those organizations are saying that citizens don’t much matter. (And when such organizations push for standardized tests and other mandates they are likewise devaluing citizens.)

The most difficult task we face is to find ways to involve "cluster" people and organizations without allowing them to get in the way of "networks" of citizens. (Or, to use different words, we need to find ways to involve hierarchies without allowing them to do damage to citizens and communities.) When money is needed, the temptation to put money ahead of all else (including citizens and children) can be overwhelming. And egos can do as much damage as money: there are lots of situations -- the Washington, DC, school system is a good example -- in which the people at the top of the hierarchies genuinely believe that they know more about children than do the people who know and love the children as individuals. Still another problem is the fact that top-down coercive techniques have become part of the culture inside the education world; and a result is that we see some respected educators proposing more and more top-down mandates, including such citizens-don't-matter mandates as lengthening school days and eliminating summer vacation time (and in effect endorsing the notion that hierarchies outrank citizens).

There can be no magic bullet -- we will not see a mad rush of people climbing down from their hierarchal pedestals to join the citizens. But that's all right. A general understanding that we citizens matter can lead to better understanding of specifics and that understanding brings the hierarchies to the citizens.

What I'm saying about citizens -- We the People -- has been said many times by many people over many years. I've been trying for a long time, in my own way, to say those things. But I believe one thing is different now: the stakes are higher than they've ever been -- much higher. The very smart people who tell us that our society is headed downhill will surely be proven correct if we continue on our present course of allowing ourselves to be manipulated by hierarchies. We therefore have no responsible choice: we have to come together. All of us. Those of us who are especially interested in the young people need those who want good jobs for everybody, and we need those who want to protect the earth, and we need a well-functioning civil society. And so forth. And all of us who care about our nation's future -- that's everybody I know -- need the young people to be well prepared for life.

We all matter -- we can strengthen each other and that strength is what has built our country and what can keep it vital. In the case of children's education, understanding that we all matter clears the way to involve many many people who have much to offer children -- a beautiful example I only recently learned about is The Children and Nature Network, which is a network of people who seek to connect young people with the natural world outside of classrooms. And there are grandparents, some seventy million of us. Partnerships of elders and young people can be highly valuable contributors to society (and to each other).

One of my old friends used some words that can help sum up our situation: "We can seek to be powerful or we can seek to be human". My friend went on to observe that when we choose power over humanity we see "pins on a map" rather than people. That friend is right (of course): we need to see each other as humans, not as things.

I end with an example of a surefire way to find humanity. Yesterday, in a conversation with little Miller’s sister, Sophie, age 4, I asked if Miller had learned to crawl. Sophie’s answer was “Not yet, but he can roll over”. Sophie sees humanity, and so do I. And so do many millions of young people and their elder friends; I believe we can explain the facts of humanity to the seekers of power.

Bob Cornett

Georgetown, Kentucky

Politics and Bureaucracy Versus Democracy

The New York Times (on Sunday, December 5) had two articles on the same page that, together, get to the essence of the mess America is in. One of the articles is by the respected economist at the Brookings Institution, Henry Aaron. Aaron recommends long-term comprehensive policies that he believes will get our budget deficits down and that will bring costs of social security, Medicare, and Medicaid down to sustainable levels. The other article, by Maureen Dowd, is about the controversy over gays in the military; the article quotes General George Casey as saying, in response to a question, that "... the military is not a democracy". Casey was rebutting a suggestion that rank-and-file military people should be asked their preferences as to policies regarding gays.

We all can agree, I think, that we need long-term and comprehensive policies and, while we might not agree on the specifics of Henry Aaron's proposals, I think we can agree that he is reaching in a useful direction. Having said that, however, I see no evidence that our political/bureaucratic system as it now operates is capable of doing much more than playing the game of who's in, who's out. Our democracy is not working.

General Casey is no doubt correct: military organizations are not democracies -- and are not intended to be democracies. They are bureaucracies. And military forces are not by any means the only government organizations that are not intended to be democracies: we would not want, let's say, Social Security employees to decide who should get what in the way of pensions.

Our problem, as I see it, is not that bureaucracies are bad; our problem is that we are allowing political/bureaucratic systems to do things that they are ill-equipped to do. The specific systems problem that I have deplored for many years is that we are allowing bureaucracies in Washingto n and state capitals to control how and what children learn. It is patently foolish to believe that people in far away places who do not know the children or their circumstances can know more about a child than do those of us who know and love the children as precious humans. And, yet, we keep on allowing bureaucracies to dominate children and their teachers.

Henry Aaron and General Casey heip to remind me that the issue facing us is broader than schools -- much broader. Historians tell us that empires go into decline when the government hierarchies serve themselves at the expense of the public. Some very smart people believe that America is in decline; and, according to polls a substantial majority of the public agrees. If those people are correct -- if our children and grandchildren do in fact face a bleak future, the reason is that we are allowing bureaucracy to prevail over democracy. People sitting on pedestals looking down at mere citizens are serving themselves, economically, politically, educationally, and otherwise.

The stakes are big, perhaps as big as any our nation has faced in its history. I believe that's good: the high stakes mean that none of us can justify sitting back and allowing ourselves to be run over. We can't allow our economic system to be designed by a self-serving political/bureaucratic system. We can't allow our responsibilities to each other to be defined by people sitting on pedestals in capital cities. We can't allow our political system to be controlled by money instead of by citizens. And, as one of America's 70 million grandparents, I say emphatically that we can't allow the foolishly arrogant notion that "experts" in far away places have more to offer the children than we do.

My basic message here to those who share my interest in children's learning is that we're not alone. We stand with everybody who cares about the future of our society.

We need to keep in mind that "movements" can be better adapted to accomplishing the task before us than are organizations. (It is, as we all know, very easy for organizations to take on self-serving bureaucratic characteristics.) I have mentioned in earlier posts that the Scots-Irish legacy of self-reliance can be a significant source of movement strength, especially in "working class" sections of the country. Another source of movement strength -- I've only recently learned about this (to my chagrin) -- is The Children and Nature Network, which is encouraging connecting children with nature. Also, I'm more convinced than ever that partnerships between young people and us elders can be of just about unlimited value.

The political/bureaucratic forces that, if unchecked, would take our nation down, will have "divide and conquer" as a strategy -- they will try to pit groups of citizens against each other. But that doesn't have to work -- and it won't work if we -- We the People -- remember that we'll be just fine if we keep clearly in mind that we're in this fight together.

I'll be reporting some of the movements that can help us come together.

Bob Cornett

Santa Claus, Scrooge, and Wooden-Headed Governments

While I was thinking about the self-reliant culture of the Scots Irish (and of Appalachia), I had three experiences that, together, are influencing my thoughts. First, one of my friends from my years as a bureaucrat made this observation: "Congress is used to being Santa Claus". Second, I reread the section of the Barbara Tuchman book, "The March of Folly", that describes the "wooden-headed" mistakes the British made that caused the Revolutionary War. And, third, I watched a Kentucky mountain grandmother eating lunch (in a Bob Evans restaurant) with her 15-month-old granddaughter.

My friend is correct about Congress and Santa Claus, and his point applies generally to politicians -- politicians like to do things that make people happy (such as giving out money). On the other side of the political/bureaucratic apparatus, when governments have to do non-Santa Claus kinds of things (such as reducing money payments), the politicians turn to the bureaucracies -- the bureaucrats get the job of doing Scrooge kinds of things. Then, what the bureaucrats do is to turn decisions over to systems -- they let the systems take the blame. (I have to confess that, in my own years as a bureaucrat, I have designed many systems that serve little or no purpose except to provide me and my fellow bureaucrats "cover" for our backsides.)

Barbara Tuchman very well understood politicians and bureaucrats; she demonstrated her understanding by, among many other things, citing Plato's argument that government is so complex and important that "philosopher-kings" are necessary if we are to have good government. Then she cited Plato's acknowledgment that, until we succeed in actually having philosopher-kings, " there can be no rest from the troubles of the cities, and I think for the whole human race". And, in Tuchman's words, "So it has been" .

Here's what Barbara Tuchman said about the situation in England just prior to the Revolution: "The all-pervading, all-important problem that absorbed major attention was the game of faction, the obtaining of office, the manipulating of connections, the making and breaking of political alliances -- in sum, the business, more urgent, more vital, more passionate than any other, of who's in, who's out". I think it's accurate to say that Tuchman could have been describing the political and bureaucratic situation in America in 2010.

When I contrast that mountain grandmother and her tiny granddaughter with our wooden-headed political/bureaucratic systems, I believe I see the basic reason why our colonial ancestors won the War: the colonials had a sense of shared purpose but the British were serving themselves-- they were more interested in protecting their right to wear powdered wigs than in serving the public interest.

I cannot adequately describe the relationship between that grandmother and her tiny granddaughter -- the beauty I saw was beyond my ability to put in words. All I'll try to say is that those two people were sharing life as partners. If that sounds insignificant, let's keep in mind that the sense of community partnership is what our colonial ancestors had, and that proved to be quite enough.

Is the love that binds a grandmother with a granddaughter enough to keep the wooden-headed forces at bay? Or, more to the point of the issue before me, can ordinary citizens stop wooden-headed forces from using the public schools for self-serving purposes? Or, to tie the question more directly to Scots Irish and Appalachian culture, will the citizens do battle on behalf of the love and common purpose that is in grandmothers and grandchildren? Merely posing that question clears my head: I don't believe I know even one genuine mountain citizen who would knowingly stand aside and allow the wooden headed crowd to run over the likes of that grandmother and little girl.

What will the wooden-headed bunch do when they see citizens standing with the children (and their grandmothers and granddaddies and neighbors and dedicated schoolteachers and everybody else who is motivated by a sense of shared love)? I don't know for sure, but I can't believe that our political/bureaucratic apparatus is as wooden-headed as were the British. But not to worry: our Founding Fathers gave us a democracy; and, yes, we know how to keep it.

Bob Cornett

Does the Scots Irish Culture Still Matter?

I find myself more and more optimistic that we Americans will locate the strength to pull ourselves out of our political and economic crisis. And I find myself convinced that the biggest part of that strength will come from the communities. That conviction, in turn, raises the question as to where our community strength will come from.

I visited, several weeks ago, the grave of my great, great, great, great grandfather. That ancestor, William ("Billy") Cornett, served in the Revolution and, like many other soldiers in that War, was paid in the form of a grant of land; his land-grant was near where Bull Creek runs into the north fork of the Kentucky River. Billy's grave is on a mountainside looking down at a narrow valley. It's beautiful country, but those mountains are steep. I tried to imagine making a living from that land but I didn't do much good in my imagining; Billy and his family, and his neighbors and their families, had to produce just about everything they used -- there were no Krogers and Wal-Marts.

While in Detroit talking with Grace Boggs I posed the question as to whether some of the Scots Irish culture that Billy Cornett (and thousands like him) took to the Appalachians might still be a source of self-reliant attitudes. Grace encouraged me to think about this and write a brief article for her newsletter. I agreed to try, even though I did not personally experience much of a self-reliant life. (I grew up in town, and we made our living from my dad's paycheck as a railroad man.)

The first thing I did, when I got home from Detroit, was to look for my copy of a book about Scots Irish in America; this book, "Born Fighting", written by James Webb (before he became the United States Senator from Virginia), is superb. But, as is the nature of my books, this one was gone. (I'll have another one shortly.) And I also started reminding myself of stories I have heard -- both dad and mom grew up in self-reliant situations, as did most of their relatives. And I remembered back to my years inside the political/bureaucratic world; those memories reminded me that, in general, mountain people tended not to defer to top-down authority.

I'm not yet ready to do justice to the question as to whether Appalachia independence might still be a source of community strength. But I feel myself getting ready. As an example, I recently saw an animated film that contrasted some of King George III's powdered wig functionaries with such colonists as Paul Revere. I believe a good case can be made that much of our problem now is that we have turned ourselves over to the equivalent of George III’s powdered wig crowd; and I can point to a number of examples in which the equivalent of Paul Revere (and my great great great great grandfather Billy) are managing just fine without becoming lackeys to our present day powdered wig bunch.

I'll have more later.

Bob Cornett

Battle Creek, Detroit, Appalachia, and David Brooks

I've returned home after several days in Battle Creek and Detroit. I saw lots of good things. As a significant example, I observed an experienced teacher and athletic coach working with a group of young people in a "satellite site". The students were essentially responsible for their own learning, with Internet "distance learning" classes being important sources of their lessons. The teacher was functioning mostly as an advisor. These students, who had been doing poorly in regular classroom situations, were doing well, and the teacher was delighted -- he regards what he and the students are doing as being far more productive than are typical classroom situations. I told the teacher about students in a tiny town in the Appalachian region of Alabama who are publishing the town's newspaper and otherwise doing work that is important to their community. The Battle Creek teacher envisions that his students will also be reaching toward the community for projects that matter.

Also in Battle Creek, I saw people who are making effective use of community gardens as tools for building stronger communities; I even heard some discussion about connecting Battle Creek's young gardeners with gardeners in Africa. And I listened to a conversation about whether the top-down standardized tests do mostly good or mostly harm. One line of reasoning said that teachers need to feel pressure from bosses in order to stay focused on the task, and the other line of reasoning was that the real job of teachers is to help students learn to learn -- and that, therefore, teachers should be responding to their students more than to top-down bosses.

In Detroit I was privileged to spend some time with Grace Lee Boggs. Grace has the wisdom that comes from years -- she is 95 -- and her wisdom is linked to incredible vitality. She is, among many other things, participating in discussions to "reimagine work". She and her colleagues, who include some people who have been active in organized labor, know that the monotonous days of assembly lines are ending; and they realize that somebody needs to do some thinking about what the work of the future will be like.

I saw still more good things, including a cadre of highly dedicated teachers in a suburban community west of Detroit. But I also saw reminders of a pervasive bad thing: public schools require money, and that money is controlled by political/bureaucratic systems that, in the nature of the beast, seek to control what goes on at the bottom of the hierarchy. This disconnect between what the system demands and what children need puts teachers in the extremely difficult position of having to balance education with politics.

I saw no silver bullet solutions to this disconnect problem -- I didn't expect to. What I did see, however, were significant numbers of citizens who realize that connecting children with the life of their community is of long-term benefit to everybody. I saw some of those citizens in conversations with each other (in person as well as via Internet kinds of things). One of the key leaders in Battle Creek is even going so far as to help start a new blog, tentatively called "One Community at a Time", to enable communities to share their experiences.

Local citizens working together on behalf of everybody is what built our country. And local citizens working together are what can pull our country back together now. As David Brooks argues, in his New York Times column of November 12, the political movement that was so evident in the recent elections is cause for optimism. In Brooks' words, "I'm optimistic because, while our political system is a mess, the economic and social values of the country remain sound. This optimism is also based on the conviction that serious, vibrant societies don't sit by and do nothing as their governments drive off a cliff".

David Brooks had made the point in an earlier column that "working class" citizens are the key to fixing the political system. What I saw in Battle Creek and Detroit (and what I've seen in the mountains of Kentucky and Alabama and elsewhere) tells me that Brooks is correct: we ought to be optimistic because our citizenry is a good citizenry, with the capacity to subordinate selfish interests for the welfare of the country and the children. That said, it follows that, as the unselfish strength of our citizenry asserts itself, the political/bureaucratic system will defer to the citizens; and that means, among many other good things, that education policies will be transferred from the hierarchies to the communities.

I don't suggest that communities can do a perfect job of balancing education with politics. Communities can, however, do one crucially important thing that political/bureaucratic hierarchies cannot do: communities can see the children as individuals (not as abstract profiles). This difference -- the difference between profiles and individuals -- allows teachers to focus on the students (rather than on the politics of hierarchies).

I don't suggest, either, that it will be easy to convince the political/bureaucratic hierarchies that their proper role is to support public education, not to use schools as political pawns. I do suggest, however -- I know this from many long years of experience-- that when politicians and bureaucrats in capital cities see an unselfish citizenry standing together, those politicians and bureaucrats come down off their pedestals and join the public

David Brooks is optimistic that our good citizens will fix our broken political system (and I agree with him). That fixing will be done largely at the community level, which is where education must be fixed. And that's the core of what I think I've learned: fixing our political system and fixing our schools are part and parcel of the same thing -- they need to be fixed together.

Bob Cornett