Discovering the Purposes of a School
The four broad purposes of schools discussed in this chapter of your textbook: the intellectual, the political, and the economic, and the social, will help you form a useful framework for examining what schools are and how they can operate. As you begin to examine schools more closely, you'll see that these purposes exist simultaneously, even overlapping each other. The more you begin to practice observing schools from those perspectives, the more you'll be able to
see what at first glance seems invisible.
Another way to begin to see how these purposes converge is to examine the formal, public documents every school has.
Formal Statements
The most direct approach is to read official statements of purpose. Like most institutions, our schools have occasioned many official attempts to explain what they are all about. In 1986, a report sponsored by the Carnegie Corporation,
A Nation Prepared:
Teachers for the 21st Century, reasserted an old theme about American education-the link between education and the common good:
From the first days of the
Republic, education has been recognized as
the foundation of a democratic society
for the nation and the individual
alike. . . . School must provide a deeper
understanding necessary for a self-governing
citizenry. It must provide access to
a shared cultural and intellectual heritage
if it is to bind its citizens
together in the common will. It certainly
must enable the citizens of this Republic
to make informed judgments about the
complex issues and events that characterize
life in advanced economies. . . . The cost
of not doing so might well be
the gradual erosion of our democratic
birthright.1
Formal statements such as this one are typically eloquent and valuable, but they are also quite remote from the daily grind of life in schools. Stating a goal such as "schools will provide a deeper understanding for a self-governing citizenry" does not indicate how that will be done, only that that is what schools are expected to do. Broad formal statements do not help a teacher to select just the right story when students are restless or bored, or to decide how to deal with a distraught child whose parents are in the midst of a traumatic divorce.
Formal statements of purpose also may mask contradictory practices. What we say and what we actually do are not always the same. One therefore needs to look beyond the formal statements on paper to see the true, operational purposes of schools. Take, for example, the contradictory messages teachers receive about what to do to help their students. In a study entitled
Teachers at Work, one researcher describes the frustrations of teachers caught between their desire to teach what they feel the children need and the drive by school boards and school administrators to have tangible evidence that students are making progress toward established standards in areas such as mathematics and reading. One method of stimulating teachers to attend to student achievement is to make the results of standardized tests publicly available. The researcher quotes one teacher who was angered by recent comparisons of achievement scores in local newspapers:
We just had all the state
testing at grades three, seven, and
eleven. A year ago, when all this
was introduced, it was: "This is to
help you better understand what you're
doing for the kids. It is not
designed for comparison." Yet in the
last three weeks . . . all they did
was compare. It is extremely depressing
to pick up the newspapers and read
about schools being weighted by their
CAT scores, their SAT scores, when
at the same time, we're being told
by so-called experts . . . that we
have to do more hands-on work
with the kids, get out of the
schools more. It's the same people
saying these things. "Scores have to
go up. Get them out in the
world." Yet, if I don't have them
here and can't sit down and work
with them, I can't help them with
their skill problems.2
Personal Experiences
If formal statements by official groups, even presidential and other blue-ribbon commissions, can be misleading, why can't we simply rely on our own experiences to discover the true nature and purpose of a school? After all, we have all spent a large portion of our lives in schools, and each of us has a rich mental storehouse of ideas and impressions to draw on. Although personal experience is a very important source of data to help us define what a school is, it has two limitations: the uniqueness of the schools that we, individually, have attended and the uniqueness of our own personal experiences in those schools.
The Variety of Schools The United States is a huge nation with
a great mix of religions, races, and social and economic groupings. While schooling
across America has much in common, our schools, for better or worse, vary substantially.
Before going further, take a moment to jot down five or six phrases that you believe
capture your high school.
Now contrast the word picture of your school with these two images:
strong smell of disinfectant and
human sweat in the air
gritty sound of chalk scraping blackboard
fear of getting beat up on the
way home
drab, greenish paint everywhere
asphalt playground with basketball backboards,
but badly bent hoops
--------------
bright colors and cheerful, sunny rooms
same alphabet cards as grade school on
top of board knowing everyoneall
105in the school
bonfire pep rally for whole community
before regional football championships
rows of computers in each classroom
Clearly, the authors of these word pictures went to different schools. The first
description suggests a rundown school in an urban slum. The second could be a
new school in a rural area. The point is that the same word,
school, conjures
up different images in two minds. This is because schools vary so enormously in
our country. The resulting difficulty is that since each of us has known a very
narrow range of schools, each of us has a narrow range of vision, which constricts
our ability to understand fully the purpose of a school.
Our Personal Angle of Vision Besides our narrow range of vision,
there is a problem with the uniqueness of our angle of vision, the way each of
us sees and interprets our school experience. For instance, note the differing
angles of vision of one seventh-grade history class we once observed. Many students
finished the year confused and upset because their teacher had raised serious
and unanswered questions about the widespread homelessness and structural poverty
in our country. But the teacher felt that unsettling the students and goading
them to ask new questions was exactly what should have been accomplished. The
principal, on the other hand, thought the teacher was turning the students into
malcontents. A foreign visitor observing the class saw a teacher who told the
students "so little and asked them too many questions." And parents, who had to
rely on their children's perceptions (or secondhand angles of vision), had wildly
divergent views of the true purpose of that classroom.
The simple word
school conjures up a great variety of people, motives, activities, and outcomes. But the narrowness of our experience and the angle from which we perceive it color both what we see in a school and the judgment we make about it. We have to make up somehow for these limitations if we are to really know what a school is. However, the school experiences of people in this country share many commonalities, which are explored in this and other chapters of your textbook, as well as at this web site.
1 Task Force on Teaching as a Profession, A Nation
Prepared: Teachers for the 21st Century (New York: Carnegie Corporation, 1986),
pp. 14-15.
2 Susan Moore Johnson,
Teachers at Work
(New York: Basic Books, 1990), p. 142.