rel="nofollow" href="#litres_trial_promo">[4] By small schools I mean those with up to seventy-five students a grade, or as it was better put in a prize winning speech from a sitcom- aware fourth grader, schools that are “Cheers-size.” In such schools kids are more likely to be participants than spectators, partly because small size makes the active engagement of every student essential—an important matter in effective education for a democracy where the involvement of all is to be sought. Unfortunately, driven by industrial notions and on the pretext of saving money and offering more opportunities, the size of schools has been increasing steadily.
Second, most schools are not “owned” or significantly influenced by the communities where they are located. At times it almost seems that politicians and policy makers make it their business to ensure that the public does not influence or participate in the work of schools. What appears to be asked of citizens is a willingness to pay for schools without being engaged in their operation. It is reasonable to suppose that, in the absence of significant public connections, public support will be difficult to rally even if the moment finally arrives when all students test above average.
Third, I wish Americans could routinely view the work of kids in schools. Perhaps schools should be more like my refrigerator, the true purpose of which is to display photos and artistic efforts of my grandchildren, who regularly inspect the current arrangements and comment on any changes, revealing the value they place on a public display related to their lives. It is the same for every young person. As one teacher explained in a PACERS’ planning meeting, “all our kids want to shine, and we should give them the chance.” PACERS projects, like those presented later as exemplary practices and like many school programs, were venues for students to produce and display handiwork significant for their communities. As could be expected: students relished the opportunities afforded by the projects; teachers gained greater local appreciation for their work; community members applauded and gave their support. Educators have always known the value of kids showing off their work. It is important for kids and public education, that they have the opportunity.
The associations and experiences on which this book is based are varied. Students involved in the projects which I helped organize and administer and on which this book is based range from affluent to very poor, and they represent a diversity of racial and ethnic groups. Their abilities, interests, and ways of knowing are equally diverse, and they have differing means of expressing their intelligence. The communities from which the students come are mainly rural, and so it’s true that they share some common understanding, but nonetheless, these communities have different opportunities, resources, and histories and are as diverse as are their students. In my judgment, schools are ethically bound to honor the heterogeneity of their students. This goal does not jettison standards; it calls for teaching and learning that is community connected and for modes of instruction and evaluation that are multi-dimensional.
It is difficult for schools to tie their work to the communities where they are located given centralized governance, professionalized control, and standardized curricula and evaluation. Throughout this book, I examine the disconnect between schools and communities and between learning and place. They have negative consequences for a citizen’s support and ownership of schools, for a student’s motivation and learning, and for a teacher’s ability to teach. The London Underground constantly warns riders to “mind the gap,” that is the separation between the train and the passenger platform. Consequential Learning is mindful of the gap between schools and citizens and between the traditional goals of education and the needs of students living in a democracy with a participatory economy, and it suggests means for bridging that gap—for involving parents, community members, resource persons, businesses and agencies in the work of the school. It is possible that, wherever the gap is bridged, public schools will become sufficiently public, and, thereby, gain the civic encouragement, guidance, and support they need.
Section 1
The Inspiration for Consequential Learning
Young people are citizens and members of communities. They are capable of fulfilling responsibilities that arise from their citizenship and community membership and are prepared to do so. Given the opportunity, they will take initiative to improve the places where they live, and they will demonstrate considerably more character and grit than they are often given credit for. The principles and programs gathered under the rubric “Consequential Learning” build on young peoples’ citizenship and relationships to their communities. They were imagined and refined over thirty years of work with students, work that is described and analyzed below in order to illustrate links between theory and experience and to set out guidelines and examples that will help support application of Consequential Learning principles in other situations.
The Wesley Foundation, the United Methodist Church’s campus ministry at the University of Alabama, was the first setting that led me to think about the approaches in Consequential Learning. The primary constituents of the Wesley Foundation, at which I served as director, were graduate and undergraduate students, and many of them were participants in its community need programs. The second framework was the Program for Rural Services and Research (PRSR), also at the University of Alabama. The PRSR has sponsored university student projects and initiated partnerships statewide with rural schools and communities in order to engage their youngsters in ventures that enhance both learning and civic life.
As United Methodist campus minister and later as organizer and director of the PRSR, I was in a position to encourage and assist university students, to clear space for them to take initiative, and to listen to their insights and reflections. At the PRSR, the scope of my experience was extended to include many small rural public schools, where I watched kids of all ages demonstrate their interest in learning through work that connected them to their communities. My views are grounded in direct experience with students and with adults who understand young peoples’ competence, commitments, and communities. The following summaries of pivotal projects are presented to document students’ abilities and interests and to show how Consequential Learning was developed.
Partlow Project at the Wesley Foundation
Many of the perspectives of this book probably were set in motion by a 1968 meeting between university students and staff members at Partlow State School, Alabama’s residential facility for persons then unfortunately labeled “emotionally and mentally retarded.” The students were members of the Wesley Foundation attending the meeting to negotiate the terms of a service program they were keen to undertake for Partlow residents. The process had been initiated by a Partlow administrator. He was seeking to expand the opportunities available to his school’s clients and asked if students at the Wesley Foundation might be interested in helping. His invitation was taken seriously and sparked a strong response—one that I have seen often when adults seek to engage young people in serious work. Students’ answer to the invitation was to propose a plan that was to be reviewed at the meeting. Their proposal was imaginative, thoughtfully constructed, and placed significant responsibilities upon themselves.
The students planned a program that included events at the Wesley Foundation. Some staff members opposed the recommended program, arguing that residents did not normally leave campus, that there might be lawsuits, and that students might not be able to coordinate the effort. As other issues arose, negotiations became increasingly serious. Students held their own, pointed to potential benefits of the project, and maintained their competence to manage it. In the end, their proposal gained approval, and a groundbreaking relationship was initiated. The process was not unique. On many occasions, I have seen students make plans, establish rationales for them, and make a difference through them—a series of actions that express an intention to undertake consequential civic work that enhances communities.
For more than a decade, the program involved a large number of Partlow residents and hundreds of university students, many of whom developed individual relationships with persons
