On Saturday morning, I went outside and found trash strewn all about my driveway. Cursing the animals that feast on what I throw away, I went about picking up their mess. Eager to get on with the walk that I had originally planned, I hastily lifted the lid of my trashcan to dispose of the waste and discovered this:
Needless to say, I was startled to see a live animal in my garbage can–I screamed, slammed the lid down, and went inside and got my husband. Shaking all over and speaking animatedly about the creature that I had seen, my reaction fed my husband’s reaction. He jumped out of bed and readied himself to protect me from this potentially rabid, wild animal invader. He donned gloves and grabbed a shovel and stood back as he cautiously pried the lid off the can.
When it was open, we both peered inside at the raccoon balled up atop our refuse. He didn’t hiss or growl or make whatever defensive noises raccoons are known to make. In fact, he stood eerily still as he stared up at us with helpless, timid eyes. At that moment, I realized how small he was. After a night of foraging, he was the baby who was left behind. And he needed help. He didn’t need me to stand dialing animal control to discuss options and possibilities. He was stuck and he needed me to tilt the can so that he could get out and find his family and go about living his raccoon life.
As the drama of this incident ended in the instant that we pushed over the trashcan, I laughed at both my reaction and its similarity to education. Children peer at us with the same innocent expression quietly asking for our help but instead of simply responding to their needs, we become paralyzed by fear. If I help in this way, will it align with the Common Core State Standards? And if I do this, is it a tier two or tier three intervention? And exactly how will I measure the result so that I can be sure that it is reflected in my annual review of professional performance?
All of the changes and educational reforms have us deliberating and questioning our sensibilities when meanwhile, the only way to make sure that children are not left behind is to be the kind of teacher who looks into their pleading eyes and gives them what they need as learners.
Great!
Have you heard that there will be no official recess in a large Central NY school district so all the minutes can be devoted to learning? I am sure it is that way in other places. We are losing site of the forest. I fear that teachers will resort to apparently meaningful “activities” lessons to meet the standards, but I am not sure we all really know for sure what is going to translate into real learning. I worry about the assessments and the APPR and the day to day lives of our little ones. Or any kids who struggles to “get it” in school.
Your piece on the “forgotten” raccoon who needed a little help to get on with life, is poignant.
I still believe our kids need rigor and great teaching and learning, but that will look different in different classrooms and towns. We need to realize there can be a variety of ways to get to the goal. And sometimes patience and common sense are going to serve us very well.
This reminds me of my personal coach saying that I would produce more if I spent less time in front of my computer and more time in the garden.”Working” harder doesn’t always produce more/better outcomes. There is a point of diminishing returns.
oops I mean *sight!