I love this. Duh. So much of my journey on this continues to be--how can we be more honest about the impact individual choices have on public systems without making people feel shut down?
For some my book has been a portal of sorts, a way into a choice that they suspected they wanted to make but weren't sure was really okay. It's okay! Slide down the portal! It's beautiful and complicated here! For others, it (and I) have become a symbol of something naive, judgy, something they want to avoid and/or rationalize in various ways. My overwhelming experience of the book being published on "the negative side" has been avoidance, not debate. People do not want to talk about it. At. All.
I love that your work, Bucks, is about wrestling with this tension--that in our various forms of reckoning, there are real relationships to attend to. The quest to do that with honesty and humility and boldness all at once seems very hard and very important right now.
I am fascinated by the avoidance. I feel it too (from others on this issue, and from myself on many other issues). As writers, I know both of us struggle with the balance of how to write about topics that cause people shame in ways that kick folks in the butt a little while welcoming them in. Not easy! And though it's easier when you can sit down across from somebody in a more organize-y way, we both know that's not open and shut either! We are filled with shame and inertia, Courtney!
I hope it's ok to say here, but I read your book after hearing about it from this newsletter, and even though I'm not a parent, I really enjoyed it and have kept thinking about it ever since.
That top question is just . . . I'm so glad you asked it. It feels like one of the central questions we're all trying to explore right now, and find a way to move forward with.
"My overwhelming experience of the book being published on "the negative side" has been avoidance, not debate. People do not want to talk about it. At. All. "
This comment stands out to me. I wrote some critical reviews of your book on Amazon and Good Reads, and you reached out to me to discuss my ideas further. I don't consider my lack of further engagement to be avoidance . . . I put in the time to read your book and I gave my honest feedback. It comes across as some combination of needy, entitled, and invasive to ask more than that.
The irony is that my thesis was you centered yourself and expected too much hand-holding from others (I hope I said it more tactfully than that, but that was the gist). I'll suggest that the act of receiving feedback is not a negotiation or a group project, but something for you to work through on your own. You have great intentions and obviously a voice that resonates with many, but I would encourage you to ponder the line between boldness and wheedling, and don't take the easy way out by dismissing the feedback of people who choose not to keep pouring into your bucket.
This was very cathartic to read after reading that NY Times section and feeling many similar but less articulate feelings. I am ready to volunteer as editor of the special “Private Schools and White Flight Suburbs… They Literally Shouldn’t Exist In A Just Society But We Are Sure Many Of You Would Struggle Mightily To Give Up Your Relationship To Your School and Your Town and Your Property Values And That’s A Problem But It’s Also Understandable So What The Hell Are We Going To Do With All That?” edition!
A great read as always Garrett. I also desire school to be something that diminishes social stratification, not increases it. It feels like we as a country would need a shared value of community over the individual to make that happen systematically, and that feels like a long way off. I wonder what your thoughts are on what incremental change looks like on more personal level - as I close in on two decades in education, I feel less invested in the systemic change side of things.
Damn that's a great "over a beer" question (overdue, btw). You know, one of the things I've been trying to do more recently is paying attention to the imperfect-but-real building blocks of community involvement that I took for granted-- the fact that there are tons of people who wake up in our city every day and focus on a community-minded project. Like at our school, for instance, there are retired faculty members who just keep on showing up-- to help out in classrooms, to tend to the greenhouse, etc. They live in the neighborhood and keep up with alumni and seem to have made this conscious decision that "this isn't just a workplace to me, nor is it just the school in my neighborhood, it's something I'm connected to and I want to sustain that connection." And that's small! But in the context of our country, it's really large! So I've found myself super curious about folks like that- why community matters to them, what sustains their efforts when it's cold and they're tired, etc. That's not a full answer to your question, but just a thought to prove the larger point that I think about that a lot too.
"I've found myself super curious about folks like that- why community matters to them, what sustains their efforts when it's cold and they're tired, etc." THIS is a fantastic question that I would love to read more about.
GARRETT. I mostly just have questions after reading this. And so many feelings of yes yes yes yes yes. And I just can't help but keep thinking: but what about what we know now about children's brains and their development and scientific observation of their brilliance and their potential and their deep need for multi-generational community, and where do all of those things fit into all of this? This is the perennial question for those of us in the intersection of public schools and "alternative" pedagogies like Montessori: it's mostly only available to limited populations (White people) but more and more research is coming out to suggest that brain-based pedagogies benefit ALL children, and we're trying in public schools but it's so hard to implement in this climate of accountability and quantifying children's value through standardized testing and all the other things that are listed on Great Schools. Which, of course, aren't any of the things that really matter about being human. Anyway, thanks for always making me feel and think and question all at the same time, especially about the things closest to my heart and my work.
I love where this took you, Hannah, and I absolutely agree- one of the many mini-tragedies embedded in the macro-tragedy of American education is that instead of taking pedagogies that are child-centric and empowering and asking "how can we make sure these are part of what every kid gets to experience" we made them educational-lifestyle amenities disproportionally more privileged parents. And yeah, I know that there's a lot of spaces in the Montessori community that are thinking about that gap, for example, but it still feels reactive rather than proactive.
"We know what schools are for. We just don’t want to live into the challenge of that answer." I just love where you take this. This has been on my mind a LOT. Especially as I've been thinking about people I know who talk about commitment to our school district -- and I believe they mean it! -- but whose kids go elsewhere.
I love this. Duh. So much of my journey on this continues to be--how can we be more honest about the impact individual choices have on public systems without making people feel shut down?
For some my book has been a portal of sorts, a way into a choice that they suspected they wanted to make but weren't sure was really okay. It's okay! Slide down the portal! It's beautiful and complicated here! For others, it (and I) have become a symbol of something naive, judgy, something they want to avoid and/or rationalize in various ways. My overwhelming experience of the book being published on "the negative side" has been avoidance, not debate. People do not want to talk about it. At. All.
I love that your work, Bucks, is about wrestling with this tension--that in our various forms of reckoning, there are real relationships to attend to. The quest to do that with honesty and humility and boldness all at once seems very hard and very important right now.
I am fascinated by the avoidance. I feel it too (from others on this issue, and from myself on many other issues). As writers, I know both of us struggle with the balance of how to write about topics that cause people shame in ways that kick folks in the butt a little while welcoming them in. Not easy! And though it's easier when you can sit down across from somebody in a more organize-y way, we both know that's not open and shut either! We are filled with shame and inertia, Courtney!
I hope it's ok to say here, but I read your book after hearing about it from this newsletter, and even though I'm not a parent, I really enjoyed it and have kept thinking about it ever since.
In this house we always allow Courtney Martin praise
That top question is just . . . I'm so glad you asked it. It feels like one of the central questions we're all trying to explore right now, and find a way to move forward with.
"My overwhelming experience of the book being published on "the negative side" has been avoidance, not debate. People do not want to talk about it. At. All. "
This comment stands out to me. I wrote some critical reviews of your book on Amazon and Good Reads, and you reached out to me to discuss my ideas further. I don't consider my lack of further engagement to be avoidance . . . I put in the time to read your book and I gave my honest feedback. It comes across as some combination of needy, entitled, and invasive to ask more than that.
The irony is that my thesis was you centered yourself and expected too much hand-holding from others (I hope I said it more tactfully than that, but that was the gist). I'll suggest that the act of receiving feedback is not a negotiation or a group project, but something for you to work through on your own. You have great intentions and obviously a voice that resonates with many, but I would encourage you to ponder the line between boldness and wheedling, and don't take the easy way out by dismissing the feedback of people who choose not to keep pouring into your bucket.
This was very cathartic to read after reading that NY Times section and feeling many similar but less articulate feelings. I am ready to volunteer as editor of the special “Private Schools and White Flight Suburbs… They Literally Shouldn’t Exist In A Just Society But We Are Sure Many Of You Would Struggle Mightily To Give Up Your Relationship To Your School and Your Town and Your Property Values And That’s A Problem But It’s Also Understandable So What The Hell Are We Going To Do With All That?” edition!
Hey The New York Times, Sarah Wheeler is right here, besties. She's waiting for your call.
I will be first in line to read!
A great read as always Garrett. I also desire school to be something that diminishes social stratification, not increases it. It feels like we as a country would need a shared value of community over the individual to make that happen systematically, and that feels like a long way off. I wonder what your thoughts are on what incremental change looks like on more personal level - as I close in on two decades in education, I feel less invested in the systemic change side of things.
Damn that's a great "over a beer" question (overdue, btw). You know, one of the things I've been trying to do more recently is paying attention to the imperfect-but-real building blocks of community involvement that I took for granted-- the fact that there are tons of people who wake up in our city every day and focus on a community-minded project. Like at our school, for instance, there are retired faculty members who just keep on showing up-- to help out in classrooms, to tend to the greenhouse, etc. They live in the neighborhood and keep up with alumni and seem to have made this conscious decision that "this isn't just a workplace to me, nor is it just the school in my neighborhood, it's something I'm connected to and I want to sustain that connection." And that's small! But in the context of our country, it's really large! So I've found myself super curious about folks like that- why community matters to them, what sustains their efforts when it's cold and they're tired, etc. That's not a full answer to your question, but just a thought to prove the larger point that I think about that a lot too.
"I've found myself super curious about folks like that- why community matters to them, what sustains their efforts when it's cold and they're tired, etc." THIS is a fantastic question that I would love to read more about.
GARRETT. I mostly just have questions after reading this. And so many feelings of yes yes yes yes yes. And I just can't help but keep thinking: but what about what we know now about children's brains and their development and scientific observation of their brilliance and their potential and their deep need for multi-generational community, and where do all of those things fit into all of this? This is the perennial question for those of us in the intersection of public schools and "alternative" pedagogies like Montessori: it's mostly only available to limited populations (White people) but more and more research is coming out to suggest that brain-based pedagogies benefit ALL children, and we're trying in public schools but it's so hard to implement in this climate of accountability and quantifying children's value through standardized testing and all the other things that are listed on Great Schools. Which, of course, aren't any of the things that really matter about being human. Anyway, thanks for always making me feel and think and question all at the same time, especially about the things closest to my heart and my work.
I love where this took you, Hannah, and I absolutely agree- one of the many mini-tragedies embedded in the macro-tragedy of American education is that instead of taking pedagogies that are child-centric and empowering and asking "how can we make sure these are part of what every kid gets to experience" we made them educational-lifestyle amenities disproportionally more privileged parents. And yeah, I know that there's a lot of spaces in the Montessori community that are thinking about that gap, for example, but it still feels reactive rather than proactive.
"We know what schools are for. We just don’t want to live into the challenge of that answer." I just love where you take this. This has been on my mind a LOT. Especially as I've been thinking about people I know who talk about commitment to our school district -- and I believe they mean it! -- but whose kids go elsewhere.