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Posts published in “Day: May 22, 2021”

A remarkable teaching year

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Michael Strickland of Pocatello teaches for Boise State University and is a visiting scholar at the Samuel DeWitt Proctor Institute for Leadership, Equity and Justice at the Rutgers Graduate School of Education.

In “The Alchemist” by Paulo Coelho, Santiago is a shepherd boy who travels in search of extravagant treasures. He journeys to the markets of Tangiers and across the Egyptian desert. The story teaches us about listening to our hearts and learning to read the omens strewn along life’s path. With each passing obstacle and hurdle that the young boy encounters, there is a lesson to learn.

As this school year draws to an end, I reflect on the many false starts and frustrations. Troubleshooting technology glitches was a constant. Months of uncertainty, long hours, and juggling personal and work responsibilities piled up. Many teachers told me they had reached a breaking point. Since last fall, they tried and often failed to motivate students to speak through the tiny windows of Zoom. On the flip side, it was a year of tremendous growth. Teachers became virtual alchemists — people who transform or create things through a seemingly magical process.

Unfortunately, we had little foresight of the many changes the pandemic would bring to the classroom. Do we even know the scale and range of what is to come? The discussion has been driven in wildly different directions. There has been a plethora of ideas about what sort of knowledge, outcomes, and ends we are now supposed to produce.

The worldwide pandemic threw complex curveballs, speed bumps and barriers to teaching and learning. Many traditional methods became temporarily impossible or seriously limited. However, the situation is revealing new and more creative ways of discussion, engagement, assessment and delivery of learning materials. The art of teaching is increasing in power and enthusiasm. Like the alchemists of old, teachers and students have shared hundreds of stories of transformation in this brave new world of distance classrooms.

As students have spent countless hours engaged in online learning, officials at all levels have expressed concerns about the wellbeing of young learners. We debated the path for getting kids back into school buildings. Through all the uncertainty over the best steps for returning to hybrid or in-person learning, students have continued to do their best despite the disruption, isolation, and challenges they face on a daily basis.

In alchemy, there existed power to transform things for the better — real or imagined. Teaching during a pandemic is like working in a parallel universe, another world. Many of us expended excessive amounts of our energy adjusting to this new environment. The lines between what seemed to be happening and what was really going on became blurred. “We became inventors because our survival as teachers depended on our ability to adapt: we didn’t have a choice,” wrote Serena Morales and Dev Bose of Boise State University.

In their essay, “10 Reasons to Look in the Mirror: Reflecting and Learning from Pandemic Teaching,” Morales and Bose continued:

“Circumstances shoved us through a mirror: we overhauled courses, learned technologies, shifted our teaching to unfamiliar settings, rewrote assessments, changed feedback processes, and shifted learning expectations. There are things we did because we had to and which we would not have considered otherwise.”

At the highest level, a shift in mindset was required. Crucial emotional and psychological scaffolds were needed to teach in this new paradigm.

“In the past, we might have been so tied to traditional approaches that it took a pandemic to open our eyes,” said Dieter Uchtdorf. “Perhaps we were still building with sandstone when granite was already available. Of necessity, we are now learning how to use a variety of methods, including technology, to invite people — in normal and natural ways — to come and see, come and help, and come and belong.”

There will be more health emergencies and natural disasters in the future. We are now more aware of how students and teachers need to be prepared for learning continuity. Online synchronous and asynchronous, in-person, and hybrid modalities all came to the forefront during the national health crisis. We figured out how to adapt and adjust, to-and-between all of them, at a moment’s notice.

For some students, virtual school has been a blessing. They feel less anxious, have more quiet time to work and reflect, and are empowered to design their own schedules. Online learning has freed many to contribute their voices in new ways. Teacher efficiency has improved. Some blocks were previously dead time, in-between learning tasks. Now they are free spaces where students exercise enhanced choice, bolstering creativity.

Other students lost family members or friends to COVID-19. Many are experiencing economic instability. Now that they have lived through this, we can’t stop having conversations about those challenges. Loss, grief and societal issues such as inequality, oppression and poverty need to remain at the forefront of the classroom and community discussion. We have an opportunity to use this openness to heal. Build community. Move through adversity and come out the other side, together.

To understand the complexity of the challenges ahead, we need to be acutely conscious of the history. As we ponder the overwhelming reality of what still needs to be done, I’m optimistic that positive change will happen. In “The Alchemist,” Coelho makes clear that people are capable, at any time in their lives, of doing what they dream of. We can create ideal school environments where all students can learn.

A little giant

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Given the current dominance of the Republican Party in Idaho it is difficult to remember it wasn’t always so.

When Wilder, Idaho onion farmer Phil Batt was elected in 1994 as Idaho’s 29th governor he became the first Republican governor in 24 years. Batt defeated a popular incumbent attorney general, and the man some – including his political adversaries – call “the little giant” deserves the lion’s share of the credit for rebuilding a party that had fallen on hard times in the early 1990’s. It was a sea change moment.

A new book just out celebrates Batt’s life and legacy. The little volume is a timely reminder of a better, more civil, more accomplished time in the state’s politics. Without meaning to do so the book also casts light on how reactionary and radical the state’s dominant political party has become in the last quarter century.

(The book – Lucky: The Wit and Wisdom of Phil Batt – has been published by Caxton Press, the venerable Idaho publisher based in Caldwell. All sale proceeds will benefit the Wassmuth Center for Human Rights.)

The book’s author, Rod Gramer, a long-time Idaho journalist who now heads Idaho Business for Education, a group trying to push the state’s education system into the 21st Century, conducted a series of interviews with Batt and also commissioned several essays about the man who broke the string of six consecutive Democratic gubernatorial wins.

I’m honored that Rod asked me to write one of the essays about Batt, a man I’ve known and observed in a variety of roles since 1975. Former governors Butch Otter and Dirk Kempthorne also contributed, as did former Batt staffer Lindy High, journalist Randy Stapilus and long-time political analyst Dr. Jim Weatherby. The book is a fine contribution to Idaho political history.

Several things distinguish Batt – now 94, a bit frail, but as sharp as ever – particularly when his life and career is considered side-by-side with what passes for Idaho conservatism these days. His legacy really comes down to two big ideas: advancing human rights and resisting an often unaccountable federal bureaucracy.

In the first instance Batt was – and remains – the state’s foremost advocate for the Human Rights Commission. He championed the creation of the state agency, helped nurture it in its infancy and supports expanding its authority. Batt told Gramer that he supports, without conditions, the long-delayed adoption of human rights protections related to sexual orientation. “They should not be discriminated against,” Batt said in usual terse, authoritative style.

This position is, of course, at odds with the vast majority of Republicans in the state legislature who have refused with blind determination to even discuss the issue of human rights protections for LGBTQ citizens.

Batt, the conservative farmer, also insisted on providing worker compensation insurance coverage for farm workers. “Why should a farmworker have to put up with injurious practices when nobody else had to do it,” he asks.

Batt came by his human rights views in the old-fashioned way: he observed the Jim Crow South up close while in the military in Mississippi. “I saw Blacks forced off the sidewalk to let Whites go by,” he told Gramer. “Separate toilets. Separate drinking fountains. Blacks forced to the back of the bus. Just totally unacceptable, but most of the people didn’t think it was. I thought it was totally unfair. I didn’t like it. It did make an impression on me.”

The other major piece of Batt’s legacy is the agreement he forced the U.S. Department of Energy to accept that gave Idaho legal leverage over nuclear waste clean-up and further waste storage at the Idaho National Laboratory in eastern Idaho. No other state has such a comprehensive, binding agreement that protects the ground water, health and livelihood of Idaho. Tellingly, Republicans in the congressional delegation and the legislature have been trying to undo the deal every day since Batt signed the agreement in 1995 with the support and encouragement of his friend and occasional political adversary former Democratic Governor Cecil Andrus.

Batt is clearly in the last lap of his long and productive life, and he is correctly predicting that his nuclear waste handiwork will be further eroded when he takes leave. Idahoans will rue the day that happens. Given the arrogance and ignorance of the current ruling class, count on the fact that after the final tributes have been paid to the former governor they’ll do what they can to destroy the best protection Idaho ever had from the overreaching hand of the federal government.

There is much else to be said about Phil Batt. He can tell and take a joke. He is a farmer who plays a mean jazz clarinet and plays it well enough to have jammed with legendary pianist Gene Harris and guitarist Chet Atkins. He can write – speeches and newspaper columns and humorous essays. He was, as Andrus often said, as honest as the day is long, a man of his word, a giant.

The two former governors enjoyed a mutual admiration society. As different in their politics as they were in their physical appearance, Batt and Andrus were totally alike in understanding that when practiced by honorable, candid, decent people politics is the way we get things done in our world. You work things out. You make a deal. You compromise. You understand what the other guy needs and find a way forward.

So much of the modern Republican Party has slipped from the political moorings of a conservative like Phil Batt as to make one wonder if the guy who served in both houses of the legislature, became the leader of the state senate, then lieutenant governor, party chairman and finally governor could win a Republican primary today. He might be too pragmatic, too committed to the process of politics and problem solving to navigate in the land of conspiracy, misinformation and anger that now passes for conservatism.

“The current political climate is a shameful thing,” Batt told Gramer. “I don’t have an answer for it, but it has badly damaged our country worldwide and can get a lot worse.”

He’s right, of course, and if Idaho wants a model for how to rescue the state’s politics from the white supremacy, nationalism and fact-free grievance that now consumes the majority party they could do no better than to look to the life and legacy of the committed conservative from Wilder, Idaho.