A couple of weeks ago, David Brooks wrote an op-ed piece, “What Machines Can’t Do,” in the NY Times that describes human traits that should be valued now and in the future as these traits cannot be replicated by computers. While Brooks is a political commentator, he is also a thoughtful observer of human nature. In this article, Brooks writes that “The role of the human is not to be dispassionate, depersonalized or neutral. It is precisely the emotive traits that are rewarded: the voracious lust for understanding, the enthusiasm for work, the ability to grasp the gist, the empathetic sensitivity to what will attract attention and linger in the mind.” If Brooks is right, and I believe he is, then as educators we must examine how schools can help these traits to flourish.
Voracious lust for anything sounds pretty scary to a middle school principal. Do we really want a bunch of limit-pushing, hormone-pumped twelve-year-olds unleashing their Freudian ids into our orderly classrooms? Well, maybe not all of teenage passion should be on display in schools, but Brooks isn’t talking about sexting or sticking it to the man; the passion that he describes is the passion of engagement, the passion of inquiry -- an unyielding desire to figure things out.
Most schools squelch this passion, the very thing that should be driving our youth. School has become ruled by graphite-filled ovals on Scantrons, by squealing bells that signal the end to learning, by curriculum written by who-knows-who a jillion miles removed from any teenager’s first pimple. Most folks would have loved to have Robin Williams’ character in Dead Poet’s Society as their teacher; however, a teacher like that, one who seeks to connect students with their own passion, will not last long in America’s controlled, assembly-line schools that have been cleverly and frighteningly described in this RSA talk by Sir Ken Robinson.
Schools that support passion are schools that have deliberately created a culture around passion. It doesn’t happen by accident. These schools offer students a chance to plunge deeply into learning. They know that not everything in a standard course can be “covered” so they choose particular elements to examine thoroughly. They frequently offer students the opportunity to choose what they want to read and write. They serve up problems that make students’ brains wrinkle, problems that cause students to mentally engage because whatever they have seen or heard just doesn’t quite fit with their current understanding. They require students to discuss and argue over big, meaningful topics like justice, love, revolution, and peace. They ask them to solve difficult problems that take weeks or months of planning and trials. They realize that passion doesn’t come from chasing the currency of school -- grades -- but that it comes from within each individual, so teachers offer formative feedback so students are supported in their attempt to try something different rather than thwarted by the prospects of getting a bad grade. They offer students chances to let their spirits flow by asking them to paint, design, make films, take photos, sing, dance, and perform. They give every student an opportunity to participate and grow in sports. They require students to think about how they think and learn, so that they can more deeply understand their own passions and how best to explore them.
These schools are out there; in fact, I work in one. However, schools that are grounded in passion will only flourish as long as educators are given the opportunity to display the passion that drew them to their life’s work.
