Fame Doesn't Make You Right (More Stories on the Death of Expertise)

Anyone who knows me knows that I am not a fan of professional sports.  I would never be a member of a fantasy anything team and feel like I am hearing a foreign language when people discuss games and calls.  I do, however, like a few players.  Steph Curry was one of those players. 

Then, a few weeks ago, Steph appeared on a podcast and discussed, among other things, conspiracy theories.  In the discussion, he stated that he did not believe men had walked on the moon.  As a science teacher and life-long lover of NASA, my heart sank.  My students (many of whom really like conspiracy theories anyway) would come to class with a new argument - a famous person doesn't believe it.

To be fair, Steph has recently said that he was joking, and he did take the time to tour NASA's JPL and talked with Buzz Aldrin.  He apologized to astronaut Scott Kelley for the problems his statements have caused.  Kyrie Irving has done the same, apologizing to science teachers everywhere for his statements that he thought the earth was flat. 

Let's set aside for the moment that I teach the moon landing, love the history of our space program, and therefore, have an emotional connection to this particular topic.  Let's just say for a moment that the issue is a topic I have less passion for.  There's a larger question here.  Why is Steph Curry's opinion important?  Why do students think that his statement is a win in their column?  Why does his status as a basketball champion make him more right in their minds?  It's the same argument I had with them after Kyrie Irving's statement that the earth was flat.  If he comes out with an opinion about the rules of basketball, I would find that credible, but he has no expertise in science.  Even with their walking back their statements, the question I have is why we care.  Why does a basketball player's opinion on issues of science mean anything?  If a geologist comes out and says he thinks the earth is flat, that should make big news.  But why does it matter if a professional athlete believes it?

Please understand that I am far from saying, "Shut up and dribble."  We live in a country where the right to speak is our first right.  Everyone is truly entitled to their own opinion.  Steph and Kyrie are equally as free to have and state their opinions on any issue as I am.  But the equal right to an opinion does not mean equally valid opinions.

These two stories are not isolated.  They are reflective of many issues.

- I am facebook friends with a woman whose son is autistic.  She is an anti-vaxxer as a result of her son's condition.  She, a nurse, has had ample opportunity to examine the studies involving this issue.  She has read every report, all of which show no linkage between vaccines and autism.  They all show genetics and trauma during the third trimester of pregnancy as the primary risk factors.  She does not care.  She openly says she does not care.  She has said out loud and in writing, "I don't care what the CDC found.  I know what I know.  Autism moms can't stop. Won't stop."  She is openly saying that her expertise as the mother of one child is more valuable than the expertise of those who have researched thousands of children.

- When the product Airborne started being sold, many people recommended it to me.  I have no problem with this product.  It is essentially powdered Vitamin C, which we have known for decades supports your immune system.  I have a problem with the way in which people recommended it to me.  "You should use this.  It was invented by a teacher."  I'm not sure why that should matter.  If it were invented by an immunologist, I might be more inclined to care.  Why should the fact that a teacher invented it make me more inclined to trust it? 

- Even members of Congress, while performing an investigation, fall into this trap.  While asking Google executives about how Google functions, they follow up by disagreeing with them.  This video would be funny if it weren't so sad.  They have brought an expert into the room and asked them questions only to replace his reality with their own.

We have stopped caring about whether or not people know what they are talking about.  We have entered an age of populism about knowledge.  There are people who praise that, calling it the "democratization of knowledge."  I called it the Death of Expertise.  We no longer care if someone holds a degree in the topic at hand or has experience in it.   How did this happen?

I think it starts with our cultural worship of fame.  This goes back at least as far as the age of television.  It may go back farther, but I know that when celebrities started endorsing products on television commercials, it reflected the idea that their opinions mattered more than those of others.  Remember the "I'm not a doctor but I play one on tv" commercials.  They didn't hire a doctor because people were more likely to believe a famous person.  If you believe you don't worship fame, look at who you follow on social media.  At the time of this writing, Kim Kardashian has 59.3 million Twitter followers, compared to Buzz Aldrin's 1.36 million, and the fact that I have to use google to name any of last year's Nobel prize winners.  We absolutely worship fame over expertise.  The few scientists whose names you do know (Bill Nye, Neil deGrasse Tyson) work hard at maintaining their public presence and hire publicists to do so.

Speaking of Twitter, I think social media has contributed to this problem as well.  A few decades ago, you would know the opinions of people you knew well and people who were interviewed on the news (and before 24-hour news killed good journalism, you could believe they had taken the time to seek a credible expert).  Social media has given everyone a megaphone, and while you have some ability to cultivate your echo chamber by who you choose to follow, you are exposed to the opinions of far more people than you used to be.  All opinions lie side by side in the age of social media (with the edge to your side if you are famous, of course).   Because they are all right there together, our brains process them as equally valid.  We get to choose who we will agree with, regardless of their credibility.

I know this has gotten long, and my blog is supposed to be about education, so let me wrap up by speaking to teachers.  This perfect storm of cultural cynicism, fame worship, social media leveling everyone, and some high profile falls of authority figures has led to this, and we need to do what we can as teachers to model better for our students.  We need to openly care more about expertise than fame.  We need them to see that we seek out credible sources; they should never hear us say that we "read something somewhere" without caring about who we get information from.  We need to teach them to seek out credible information (including but not limited to their sources for research papers). 

We live in a sea of "information" that is a mix of good an bad, credible and ridiculous, worthy and unworthy of our time.  We, as teachers, cannot be passive.  We must act as lighthouses on this sea, pointing them to the good and credible and worthy and teaching them to recognize it.

What Inspires Me

Last week I mentioned Danny Steele, an administrator with a Twitter account of educational encouragement.  Occasionally, he does a few posts called "What Inspires Me?"  Since I don't do New Year's resolutions, I thought I would use the typical end of year reflective time to think about the things that have inspired me in 20 years of teaching.  Here are some things that inspire me (and just a few of the people who display them).

- Teachers who challenge their students and then spend their time helping students meet that challenge. (Zane and Meagan)
- Students who give their best to meet challenges. (They're minors, so I won't use their names, but they know who they are.)

- The energy and enthusiasm of first and second year teachers. (Hannah and Emily)

- Veteran teachers who still spend time reading and learning from the latest research. (Kristin)
- Teachers who keep using techniques they know to be effective, not being swayed by fads. (Kellie)
- Teachers who come to our school from other places and give us a chance to see it with fresh eyes, reminding us what we have. (Melanie and Julianne)
- Colleagues who generously share their best practices. (Too many to name)
- Media specialists who help me think through new things. (Laura and Daniel)
- Colleagues who give me great ideas and then help me implement them.  (Kellie, Elizabeth, Jaime)
- Administrators who problem solve so that everyone gets the best they can have. (Mandy, Eric, James, Pascale, Isaiah)
- Office, lunch, and maintenance staff who give their best every day even though their work doesn't get talked about. (Karen, Kathleen, Willa Bea, Beth, Vivian, BJay)
- Educators who take to Twitter to share their wisdom and encourage strangers. (Danny Steele)
- The memories I have of my best teachers (I wrote about them in November)
- Alumni who return to share their lives with us. (Harrison, Will, Jay, Caroline, Cassidy, Rhea, Alex, and dozens of others)

Thanks to all of you for inspiring everyone you influence.

Counting Your School Blessings

My twitter account exists as a professional learning tool.  I follow Scientific American, CERN, Fermilab, and some other things that keep me up with current science.  I follow Buzz Aldrin and NASA.  This year, I have made the effort to follow other educators, thinking I would find some interesting ideas.  What I have found are people who are reaching out for encouragement.  This year, I have spent more time talking education with educators outside of my school than ever before, and so many are feeling alone in their schools. 

Since I had a year like that in my career, I have reached out to a few.  They are generally idealists who adore their students and want to do what is best for them.  They feel their hands are tied by systems of testing over-emphasis, unsupportive administrators, or schools in which student compliance is valued above learning.

What I have also found on Twitter is a group of teachers and administrators who seem to be made of encouragement.  If you need some online boosting in your job, try following Fixing Education (@WhyTeaching),  Dave Stuart, Jr. (@davestuartjr), and Bethany Hill #JoyfulLeaders (@bethhill2829). 

These are all great, but the account that drips with enthusiasm, love, empathy, and encouragement is that of Danny Steele (@SteeleThoughts).  Just to give you an idea, here's a screenshot from a few days ago.

On December 19, @SteeleThouts tweeted this:  "Do our students know we love our job?  I hope so."  Some of the replies he got to this tweet were amazing teachers showing how they communicate their enthusiasm to their kids, even a principal dressed up as a Christmas tree.  Other replies were heartbreaking, like this one from @JeffcoEducation - "Danny, my son comes home and tells me about his teacher sitting in the corner, reading her book..... he asks: “if she doesn’t want to be here.... why should I want to be here?”.

The one that stuck with me was from @EthanAdshade.

Aside from how sad it is that a person in his position (his organization pairs experts and educators so that students will be exposed to people in higher education) has not observed many positive school cultures, he reminded me to be grateful that I am in a supportive and encouraging school environment.  Here are a few things that spring to mind.

- I laugh with my students every day.

- I laugh with my colleagues every day.

- My administrators pray for/with me.

- I am trusted and respected by my administration (a fact that a teacher who came from a different school reminded me of on Friday)

- My administration asks for my input on important decisions.

- My administration creates space for us to encourage each other.

- My administration and colleagues help me solve problems.

- My colleagues share ideas and resources.

There's more, but I would like to say based on Ethan's reply, "I consider myself blessed because I do love my job."

Magic of the Mundane

Do you know what a miracle walking on two feet is?  No, you don't.  It's okay that you don't.  You aren't crazy enough to think about things like this while just living your regular life.  I'm the person who thinks about physics all the time and how, while we think of friction, as a negative thing, we could not walk, swallow, or write with a pencil if it didn't exist.

Okay, let's talk about bipedal walking.  First, have you noticed that we are the only species (besides non-flight birds) that use it as a primary form of movement?  I'm not saying nothing else can walk on two legs, but they do it for short periods and then drop back down to four for actual travel.  My cat will get on his back legs to swat at something with his front paws, but he doesn't walk to the kitchen that way.

Why?  Because bipedal motion is inherently unstable.  Most animals keep three points of contact with the ground most of the time (exceptions when running fast or for defensive reasons, but for most regular activity, they keep a tripod on the ground).  Keeping three points of contact means that if the center of gravity shifts a bit, it is still supported (physics, just roll with me).

Now, let's look at the way we humans walk.  We stand on two legs, which means there is a much narrower range to how far our center of gravity can move before we lose our balance.  Then, we pick our foot up, shifting all of our weight to one foot and make ourselves fall forward!  The other foot comes down to support our shifting center of gravity and just as soon as it does, we repeat the process with the other foot.  How are we not falling down multiple times a day?  We aren't.  We walk without even thinking about it.  If you aren't amazed by that, adjust your sense of awe.  Even atheist researcher Steven Pinker,  in his book How the Mind Works, calls it miraculous.

Your hand is even more amazing.  It can open a vacuum sealed jar, turn a key in a lock, type, lift a fork, operate a pencil or chopsticks, stroke someone's hair, and pinch.  These are massively different skills involving different sets of muscles.  Have you had this experience?  You are on the way out of the house to get in your car when you realize the trash bag is full and needs to be taken out.  While still holding your car keys, you reach down and hook the bag with two fingers.  When you get outside, you lift the garbage can lid with your one free finger and drop the bag in without letting go of the keys?  What?  Do you realize how many different kinds of muscle maneuvers that involves? 

I could keep going, but here is my point.  We live our lives every day with awe-inspiring incidents all around us that we don't notice because they are so common.

This week is going to be stressful.  We are getting close to Christmas.  For some schools, that means there are exams.  For others, it means kids getting rambunctious.  For all, it means there will be tons of sugar coming into your building.  I haven't even mentioned the non-teacher related stresses of the holidays.

When you need something to destress during this week, look around.  Look at your hand while it holds a pencil or types on your computer.  Be amazed at the quick movement across the keys and how your brain and fingers work together without your even noticing.  Look at the paper you are writing on and think about how incredible it that it was once an actual tree with bark and leaves that there is no way you could write on with a pen.  Marvel at your calculator, which has more power than the computer that took us to the moon.  Be amazed by your stapler, your copy machine, or any of the other astonishing things that surround you in everyday life.  It will make you smile to recognize the magic in the mundane.

Reacting to Someone Else's Thoughts (You May Be Wrong)

I am going to start with a story that happened while I was in Boston for the Learning and the Brain Conference.  This has nothing to do with the conference.  It happened while I was walking from my hotel to the convention center at 7 am on Sunday morning.

I am a single woman, walking alone at an unusual time in a city with which I am not familiar.  For that reason, I was experiencing a little nervous energy.  I wasn't super anxious or afraid; it was just that low level of nerves that makes you alert to your surroundings and likely to evaluate every sound, shadow, and person on the street.  If you are a man reading this, you may not understand, but women do this any time we are out alone.  This level of alert vigilance is a gift of God that helps with our safety.

I was in this process of heightened evaluation when a man who I was about to pass on the sidewalk came to a complete stop.  My anxiety level spiked from the low level that makes you alert to the level of "I don't know what is about to happen, and it could be very, very bad." I quickened my step to get away from this situation a little faster, and I heard behind me a very irritated, "You're welcome."

Why am I sharing this story?  There are two reasons.

First, it is an interesting illustration of the differences between men and women.  When a man is walking alone, he is trying to get to a destination.  When a woman is walking alone, she is trying to not get attacked.  Women are not being paranoid; men are not being reckless.  It is just a function of how our experiences and environments differ in the world.  We probably can't understand this about each other, but we can accept it anyway.

Second, I think this could have a valuable application in our classrooms.  Let's revisit the thought processes of the two people in this story.
Context
- I was a single woman in an unfamiliar city and was, therefore, on the lookout for danger.  This was a thought that was already in my mind as I walked down the street.
- He was walking home on a Sunday morning.  There were no thoughts on his side that I might pose a threat to him.

Motivation
- He was attempting to do something nice (although I will say I think that is undercut by his expectation of being thanked for it).
- I was attempting to get to the convention center unharmed.

Assumption
- I assumed he had the potential to be dangerous.
- He assumed it was clear to me that he was not a danger (if he thought about it at all).

Timing
- It took me an extra 0.5 seconds after I passed him to realize that he was, in fact, stopping for my benefit.  I had to reverse directions in thinking and that takes a moment.  I would have certainly thanked him at that point if I had been able to.
- He already knew his motivation, so it took 0.0s for him to decide I was rude.

So, how does this apply to the classroom?  When conflicts arise, the reactions of both teacher and student are always based in context (which we usually think we are sharing but might not be), motivation (which are different between the two parties), assumptions (which we may or may not be right about), and timing (perhaps it takes the student an extra half-second to process what you meant, not just what you said).  Just like this man on the street and I had very different reactions to the same experience because neither of us knew what was going on in the other's mind, students and teachers may have very different reactions to each other.

Did you know that there is a part of your brain solely responsible for helping you construct a representation of other people's thoughts?  It helps you know when you have upset someone or see that the boy in your class likes you.  When it is accurate, it is quite helpful; but it can be wrong.  Sometimes, we process the input from a student incorrectly, and they interpret us incorrectly as well while both of us absolutely believe we are right. 

As the adult in the room, I am the one responsible for moderating my reaction.  I have the maturity to act, rather than just react that my 8th-grader may not have yet.  Perhaps, I should slow down and ask a student why they are reacting the way they are.  It will give me insight into, not only the conflict of that moment, but it might help me avoid future conflicts as well because I will have a better understanding of how they think.  Let's have the humility to doubt or own rightness is every situation.

Thanksgiving Post 4 - Mr. Barbara

When you teach, you often get asked who was "the one."  People want to know who the teacher was that inspired you to be a teacher.  You may be able to tell from the series of posts this month that I didn't just have one.  I had many teachers in my life that pushed me along the way and inspired me in different ways.  (I haven't even touched on the English teachers who made me love literature and taught me to organize my thoughts in writing.  I haven't mentioned a favorite math teacher who showed me the magic of fractals.)  God definitely blessed me with "the several."  However, there is one teacher who beyond doubt is the reason I teach physics today.  My physics teacher, Mr. Jim Barbara, is the physics teacher everyone should have had.

Let's start with this astounding fact.  My brother liked him.  My brother is not a fan of teachers.  He tolerated their presence in his life at best.  When I got my schedule for my senior year and saw Mr. Barbara's name on it, my brother said, "You'll like him.  He's crazy."  That may not sound like a high praise, but from my brother, it is a glowing recommendation.  From the first day of school, it was clear that Mr. Barbara loved physics.  I mean, he loved it, and he obviously loved teaching it.  I'm not sure I ever had a teacher who seemed to be having more fun than Mr. Barbara.  I'm sure you already know this, but when the teacher is having fun, the kids learn more (A thought I keep in mind while I'm teaching as well).

Mr. Barbara had more energy than a person can handle while standing still, so he was always bouncing around the room.  He would be in the middle of a sentence and run into the storage room to get something to illustrate his point, emerging from the storage room still talking.  He just had more to say and show us than he could contain.  I couldn't get enough, and since I had him the last period of the day, I would often stay for a few more minutes to ask him more questions (I didn't stop being a demanding learner after Mr. Sandberg, you know).

Although Mr. Barbara and I had different worldviews, I felt that he respected mine (or at least my devotion to it).  When he discovered the internet (This was 1994, and he was the first person I ever heard use the word internet.), he actually took the time to tell me about "religious things" he had seen on it.

Because of Mr. Barbara's energy and response to my innate curiosity, I devoured physics.  I went home at the end of each day and did my homework in reverse class order so that I could do my physics first.  I would be sitting at a concert and be really excited that I knew how the microphones worked.  I would watch a play and wonder about the physics behind getting the sets to move.  This was possibly also the first time I understood that math described the function and relationship of things.  I had been able to do math, but I had not understood its purpose until Mr. Barbara connected it to physics.

I was a college freshman when I found out that Mr. Barbara was leaving the teaching profession for the world of computer networking.  I wrote him a letter, telling him that while I knew he didn't owe me an explanation, I wanted one anyway.  I'm sure he enjoyed his career in computers, but the world of education suffered a great loss that day.

When people tell me they don't like physics, I tell them they didn't have the right teacher.  The teacher is important in every discipline, but in a subject like physics, it is essential that you have someone who can show you the bigger picture and reveal "the awesome" that lies behind the work.  Mr. Jim Barbara did that for me, and for that and all his energy and love, I am thankful.

Thanksgiving Post 3 - Mr. Sandberg

While I wrote these posts in order of the year I had each teacher, I am very happy that this particular teacher landed on the week of Thanksgiving.  When I think of the teachers for which I am most thankful, Mr. Don Sandberg is number one on the list.  This should be the easiest post to write, but it is actually difficult because it is hard to sum up what Mr. Sandberg has meant to me in just one post.

Mr. Sandberg taught me physical science in the 9th grade, and this is the subject I have taught every year for the last twenty years.  In the first two years of my teaching, I never sat down to do a lesson plan without thinking of how Mr. Sandberg taught me.  If there was an analogy or example or technique he used to make something clear to us, I wrote it into my own plans.  Although I have developed my own style and techniques in the classroom, some of those early things remain in my teaching to this day.  Any student who has had me for physical science has gotten at least a little instruction from Mr. Sandberg.

Perhaps the most important thing Mr. Sandberg did for me as a student was to encourage my curiosity.  He didn't make me curious because I came into the world that way, but he did keep me curious.  And at a time in my life when it would have been easy to throw me off track as I was a loud, strange, 14-year-old girl when I was in his class.  I was a pretty demanding learner.  In the 10 months that I was in his class, I estimate that I asked him 144,000 questions.  I asked him how keys open locks, how gas pumps know to cut off when the tank is full, and thousands of other things.  One day, he pulled out a scrap of paper and said, "I think you would find this book helpful."  It was The Way Things Work by David Macauley.  I ran right out and bought it; and before there was Google, this book was a valuable source of information for me.  I still have it today.  While his recommendation of this book might have been as much for his benefit as mine, it just led to me asking him even more questions.  The important thing is that he never seemed exasperated by my constant stream of questions.  He didn't turn me away, even if he couldn't answer.  It is scary to know that a frustrated teacher on a bad day could say something to squelch a student's curiosity, and it is amazing to me that he never did.  I keep this in mind when I am teaching students like myself.  I look at the picture on my classroom wall and say, "Mr. Sandberg was patient with you.  You must be patient with them."

If you have never taught in a Christian school, you may not know the responsibility that a Christian educator feels in fostering the spiritual development of students, modeling faith, and integrating Biblical worldview into the curriculum.  It is frightening because the last thing you want to do is innoculate students to the Lord, giving them just enough of a weakened version of Jesus that they miss the real thing.  You may not know that teachers receive zero training in how to do this, even when getting an education degree from a Christian university.  When I started at GRACE, I was at a bit of a loss for how to lesson plan with this in mind.  Once again, I thought back to my times with Mr. Sandberg.  He revealed the gospel in everything he did and every conversation he had with students; it was just implicit in who he was.  While I don't know that I will ever think I'm doing enough of this in my classroom, his model was inspirational and still is.

For all that Mr. Sandberg was to me my freshman year and what he continues to be for me now, I am thankful.