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

Is David Brooks’ Scary Pronouncement for Real?

One of my oldest bureaucrat friends and I -- we go back a full half-century -- have looked again at David Brooks pronouncement (in his New York Times column) that the United States will remain a dominant power only if "... we can figure out how to build a decent future for the working class people in this region". (The region he is referring to runs from central New York and Pennsylvania into the Midwest and South to Arkansas.)

My friend and I have close knowledge of the region that Brooks is talking about. We both grew up in "working class" Kentucky, and we have lots of relatives who migrated to Ohio and Michigan (and other points north) to work in places like automobile plants. Those folks -- "us folks" would be close to accurate -- see evidence all around that Brooks is right -- that things might be badly broken. And because of what they're seeing they want something done; that's the basic message they were attempting to send on election day.

We're convinced -- my friend and I -- that the people Brooks is talking about will stay the course -- they won't back down from demanding that something be done. But my friend and I see no evidence that the political establishment has heard those working-class people. What we hear coming out of Washington is more of the same -- politics as usual, with the Republicans saying that the job ahead is to beat the Democrats and the Democrats saying that the job is to beat the Republicans. In Kentucky, we've just endured the ugliest political campaign I've ever seen.

My friend and I agree, also, that the core unanswered question is where the people will look for solutions. As of now, I'm hearing demands that "they" -- the big people in government and business -- do the fixing. But I'm also hearing some people who are looking far ahead -- they tend to be more worried about their grandchildren than about themselves. I believe I know, from my many years around governments, that the political establishment will continue on the present course -- the course that is manipulating rather than hearing the citizens -- for as long as it is allowed to do so. The political mess can be fixed only if the people -- those people that David Brooks is talking about (and others like them) -- send the message that we're all in this together: "We the People" have to do this fixing job. (It goes almost without saying that people who know each other can collaborate more readily than can strangers—and this means that communities are better able to support collaboration than are political/bureaucratic hierarchies).

Will we citizens do what we need to do? Will we, to use words from David Mathews of the Kettering Foundation, "reclaim our democracy"? I don't know for sure, but I think I do know that we cannot separate our problems into compartments to be "outsourced". We cannot allow professional political handlers to exclude citizens from our democratic processes. And we can't allow professional bureaucrats to exclude communities from children and their learning. We simply cannot, if we care about America's future, look for "up there" to fix either our economy, our democracy, our communities, or our schools. We the People have to look to each other to do this fixing.

My own answer to David Brooks is yes, we can -- we can figure out how to build a decent future for the working-class people in this region. But I'm prejudiced-- and I don't have a coherent strategy as to how to get from here to there.

I’ll be in Battle Creek, Michigan, and in Detroit for a few days. Good things are happening up there.

Bob Cornett 

A Request of Old Friends

I may have learned something, in the past few days, that can help our "cause" of improving public education. I'm asking some of my long-time friends and colleagues to help think about what I believe I have learned.

As points of reference, I remind my friends that I have long been convinced that the top-down mandating now being peddled as a way to improve public education is the wrong way to go; many fine educators have shown me that the children need to be active participants in order for their learning to be effective. As another reference point, I have understood, from my own long experience in and around public bureaucracies, that top-down coercive methods are the stock in trade of government agencies; the thinking is done at the top, with the people at the bottom doing as they're told. Learning to think is the crucial component of effective education but, to the extent that bureaucracies have their way, students (and their teachers) are being told "No Thinking Allowed".

As the most vexing of my reference points, I have been perplexed by the fact that many of our very finest educators (and other highly intelligent people) persist in looking to the political/bureaucratic hierarchies to lead the way to better learning. I know -- or at least I think I know -- that the very fact of asking government agencies to fix education conveys the message that top-down bureaucratic methods are capable of leading the way to good public education -- and that's exactly the wrong message.

Wendell Berry, our renowned Kentucky farmer and philosopher, has long been telling us that many of the things that matter the most to us humans are at the community level. I'm convinced that Berry is correct, and that what he's saying applies to children's learning. David Mathews, in his book "Reclaiming Public Education by Reclaiming Our Democracy", reminds us that we citizens "are not customers of government; we own the store"; and he further tells us that the essence of our citizenship is in the communities. And, as Mathews makes clear, good public schools are dependent upon the democracy that is in good communities.

I tend, in my own mind, to put Wendell Berry and David Mathews together; they are saying, correctly I believe, that community, democracy, and education are interconnected.  But, as I have learned the hard way, it is easy to look to government hierarchies to do our fixing for us but it is not easy to look to each other.

Looking back, I realize that I have been somewhat naïve. I should have known that we humans find it very difficult to turn our backs on our own "special" interests. If we're being paid (in money or status) to be top-down fixers, that's what we're very likely to be. (I have, at times in my own career, been paid to be a top-down fixer, and I managed to convince myself that what I was doing was just what the public needed.)

And that brings me to what I think I've learned in the past few days. One of my friends, a longtime elementary school principal in the eastern Kentucky mountains, said these words to me: "You can't deny people bragging rights". That friend -- she's retired now and she may well be the world champion when it comes to bragging on her grandchildren -- was saying something that I had not really thought about: we very much need people who, like my educator/grandmother friend, are especially proud of their own families.

When I discussed "bragging rights" with one of my elder bureaucrat friends, we reminded each other that our political systems, when they are working at their theoretical best, balance special interests with the public interest. What I've long been saying about the problem with public education policies is that the political/bureaucratic apparatus has itself become a special interest and that, therefore, we need to take away the hierarchies' power over public schools. What I need to do now, I'm thinking, is to acknowledge the need to balance special interests with the public interest: we need for each child to be "special" to the grandmothers and, from a public interest perspective, we also need for all children to be special.

Does what I'm saying about special interests and public interest make any difference? I think so: the distinction can help push down some of the barriers that are now separating people who ought to be together. As an example of a barrier, I have many times found myself saying to dedicated educators that they should look for allies out in the communities rather than in the political/bureaucratic hierarchies. That, in turn, raises the question as to where the money is to come from, and then I find myself saying something like "The politicians and bureaucrats don't own the money -- they work for us"; and that can sound like I'm threatening the people who hold the keys to the smokehouse.

There are other barriers to effective conversation about education. I frequently see, as an example, evidence of the elitist notion that upper-class people have superior knowledge about children's learning than do "ordinary" folk. (The notion that top-down mandates can be more valuable to children than can, let's say, the love of grandmothers is an obviously foolish notion; but it's nevertheless a notion that can be seen in lots of places.) These barriers (and others that I could mention) lead to a pattern of deference to hierarchies that has been going on for so many years that it has become almost cultural. We almost believe that conversation about children's learning is supposed to be restricted to what big people and big hierarchies say and do; and that means, as a political/bureaucratic fact of life, that the conversation is about adult power rather than children's learning.

The basic reason that "bragging rights" can make a significant difference (I believe) is that it is possible for communities but impossible for hierarchies to care about children who are special and, at the same time, care about all children. This means, in turn, that nobody need feel threatened when a community helps all children understand that they matter. Instead of, in effect, telling the hierarchies to take their standardized tests and other mandates and throw them in the river, those tests can continue to be given -- and the grandmothers and others can brag on the kids who make good scores on them. The change is merely that the community, as a matter of public policy, does things to make all children special. (In the interest of transparency, I admit that I believe those top-down standardized tests ought to be thrown in the river, and I think they in fact will eventually lose whatever credibility they now have.)

I know that communities can do things to help children matter. I have, as an example, recently seen a small town in the Appalachian region of northeast Alabama, doing a beautiful job of engaging young people as active contributors to the life in their town (the youngsters, among many other things, produce the town newspaper).

I grant that it is easy to ignore what goes on in such places as that Alabama town, but maybe David Brooks can give us a useful perspective. Brooks, in his column in the New York Times, said that the key to America's future is with the working-class families in the region of America "that starts in central New York and Pennsylvania and then stretches out through Ohio and Indiana before spreading out to include Wisconsin and Arkansas". Brooke's punch line, which is as powerful as any words I've seen for awhile, is this: "If America can figure out how to build a decent future for the working class people in this region, then the U. S. will remain a predominant power. If it can't, it won't".

I don't know that David Brooks is right, but I think I do know that we need -- that we must have -- strong and active communities with strong and active young people (and with lots of grandparents who insist on bragging rights).

Friends, let's do what we can to put "bragging rights" to work.

Bob Cornett 

Where Is Our Democracy?

The election is upon us, and we're all getting bombarded with television ads that tell us how bad the opponent is. And the pundits frequently are not much better.

One of my wise old friends puts it this way: "The election is good for the media people -- they make a lot of money without having to think. And we citizens are being given a choice as to which of the two candidates is to be our dictator." My friend is exaggerating -- we don't have a dictatorship (at least, not yet). But his basic point is valid: the election is more about manipulating us citizens than serving us.

I can say, from the vantage point of a long lifetime of watching our governments from close up, that the transition from service to manipulation has been gradual-- so gradual as to be barely noticeable. We've been "outsourcing" our democracy and, in the process, we've been outsourcing children's educations.

Thoughtful educators have been telling us for years that children's learning cannot be outsourced -- not effectively: when we outsource education policies to government hierarchies we are subordinating the children (and their teachers) to systems that have been moving more and more toward manipulation.

I heard just yesterday (on C-SPAN) a speech by an intelligent politician calling for more standardization -- and more of the manipulation that goes with treating the children as if they are all alike. And that intelligent politician seemed to actually believe that treating children as cogs on an assembly line is just what the children need.

I saw, early in the week, a school that is totally committed to connecting students with the real life in the community; the students, to cite but one example of the kinds of real-life projects that they do, write and publish the town newspaper (with the support of a retired journalist in the community.) This school, a small school in the Appalachian corner of Northeast Alabama, is the best example I've seen of students being full-fledged members of their community. The school made me feel good: it gave me proof positive that we can have excellent schools. But the scarcity of such schools makes me sad.

When educators first started telling me about the damage being done by top-down manipulation, I believed that the solution to the problem was conceptually pretty simple: we citizens needed to join with the dedicated educators and explain the situation to public officials. I was naïve, to say the least. As of now, our public schools are so intertwined with our political systems that putting learning back where it belongs -- in the communities where the children live and where the professional educators and the citizens are partners with the students -- requires delicate surgery. Public schools cannot operate without money, and much of the money must come from governments; separating children's learning from top-down manipulation, and doing so without endangering government financial support, is at best a huge challenge. And times are not the best.

I've made it a point to compare notes with some of my elder friends from the world of politics and bureaucracy. (And I have also done lots of reading from people who know about governments.) The fact is that we don't know where our democracy is headed. The public is unhappy with governments -- lots of people realize that they're being manipulated and they don't like it. But this unhappiness is not necessarily taking us away from manipulation -- it could, in fact, go the other way.

My core conclusion here is that, although governmental manipulation is causing most of the problems in public education, there is not now a strategy for correcting that governmental problem. Those of us who are supposed to know something about government need to get ourselves a supply of humble pie. But that doesn't mean we need to give up: we citizens -- We the People -- have been, are now, and will be the source of our democracy's strength. And thanks to people such as those I've talked about in the mountains of Kentucky and Alabama (and such young people as Erica Goldson), we know the difference between learning by manipulation and learning by partnership.

Bob Cornett

From Chesnuts to Blues and Bluegrass

My friends at Linefork tell me that planning for next year's Chestnut Festival has already started, with several new features already assured. (There will be, as one example, a sorghum "stir-off"). Many of the new features are intertwined with year-round activities at the community center. One of those year-round activities is, in my mind, of enormous importance; and I need to give some background.

A remarkable bluegrass music teacher had came up with a general plan, a few weeks ago, to have youngsters interview older adults in their communities about the "old days" and then, after discussion, to write songs that highlight lessons from the interviews that are relevant to the young peoples' lives today. In communities where bluegrass music is part of the culture, the songs would be bluegrass style; and in communities where blues are part of the culture, the songs would be blues style. And, then, as a final step the bluegrass people and the blues people would get together for some joint songwriting and performing.

When some of the bluegrass musicians at the Chestnut Festival heard this idea about combining bluegrass and blues, they became highly enthusiastic. And they became even more enthusiastic when somebody mentioned the sizable community across the mountain from Linefork where blues music is very much alive and well. The bluegrassers have already contacted the blues people, and the two communities are at work. I don't think there's any way to stop this music initiative -- too many people are too excited.

What does the music project have to do with the Chestnut trees? Plenty. Some seven or eight years ago two elementary school principals learned about the Chestnut restoration initiative, and they agreed that this offered an excellent opportunity to connect young people with the real life in their communities. Those two principals -- both of them were highly respected women nearing retirement age, and one of them was principal of the Kingdom Come school -- visited the local volunteer fire department to enlist the support of the firemen. The firemen were happy to participate and, as one result, firemen escorted Kingdom Come students, in groups of three or four, to interview adults who were old enough to remember the Chestnut trees before the blight came. (Videos of those interviews are now treasured parts of the community's archives.)

As a result of the firemen's becoming involved with the school, a Chestnut Festival was started, jointly sponsored by the school and the fire department. The Festival went well, growing each year, but misfortune hit and the school was closed. (I need not elaborate about the school closing -- the closing was unrelated to the Chestnut project.) The community was saddened, but after a few weeks some citizens, led by members of the fire department, became determined to pull itself together. And the community has, indeed,pulled itself together.

The school property is now in the hands of the community. The building is in a good state of repair (thanks largely to volunteers). There's lots of music and lots of other happy things. And, beyond being happy, the people in that little community are demonstrating, for all the world to see, what can happen when people come together in a spirit of love and trust for each other. The community will soon have the first major planting in Kentucky of blight resistant Chestnut seedlings. And the community will, I'm willing to bet, have a bluegrass-blues music project that connects races in a beautiful and powerful way. And those are just some of the things that will be happening at Linefork.

I think I've said enough, at least for now, about the importance of young people being connected with active adult mentors in their communities. Other people have long been saying essentially what I'm saying, and they say it far better than I can. Just a while ago, as an example, I got an e-mail from a friend that quoted a professor named Nel Noddings. The quotation, which is eloquent, ended with this sentence: "In direct opposition to the current emphasis on academic standards, a national curriculum, and national assessment, I have argued that our main educational aim should be to encourage the growth of competent, caring, loving and lovable people".

Let's take a bit of liberty with what the professor is saying: let's assume that she believes that the children matter. The people at Linefork agree fully -- they, too, believe the children matter. But there is a crucially important difference: the people at Linefork are motivated by the children mattering-- it is this fact that the children matter that is responsible for the things that are happening at Linefork. In the case of Dr. Noddings, however, her words about children mattering are likely to be processed through the top-down world of political bureaucracies. And that processing does what George Orwell's pigs did when they added the words "but some animals are more equal than others" to their original sign that said "All animals are equal".

When government hierarchies issue their mandates -- one of my friends says we ought to call them "fiats" -- those mandates have the effect of saying that children matter but that hierarchies matter more. At Linefork there is the absence of hierarchies and their fiats. I believe it is that absence, above all, that makes Linefork special.

Our blog can and should (I believe) call attention to situations where children genuinely do matter (situations such as Linefork). But we also have the job of finding and shining lights on people and organizations that treat children as if they don't matter day and this is the toughest job. We need everybody, teachers and communities. And we need to find ways to liberate expert scholars from having their work distorted by hierarchies -- we need such people asNel Noddings working with such communities as Linefork.

I'll be out of pocket for a few days.

Bob Cornett