Quickly, the Battle Royale genre has gained increasing popularity amongst our youth. The genre includes such aspects as 100+ individuals battling each other, only one person survives/wins, and the randomization of where/how you start. To put it into a very relatable perspective, Hunger Games is an incredibly successful battle royale themed young adult series. Furthermore, the most trending young adult literature is dystopian with other similar series such as Divergent, The Maze Runner, and others. There have been quite a few different video games to utilize this genre, but one in particular seems to have captured audiences like none other, becoming a meme of sorts: Fortnite. I’m not going to spend much (if any) time on the game itself as the theme is what I’m interested in, so if you’re curious about the game itself click the link. It is free to play after all.

The battle royale model and its interest to our youth should come as absolutely no surprise. When you juxtapose it with our traditional / Prussian / Factory model of education, you will see a great many similarities.

1. You are forced to play as the environment will kill you if you remain stagnant (school attendance is compulsory and much of education is coercive)
2. Every “player” must play as an individual (students must achieve goals on their own and are even assessed individually when completing group work).
3. You are pitted against others looking to achieve the same goal of coming out on top to increase ranking (i.e., valedictorian).
4. Player’s start in very different positions, some with immediate access to better tools increasing odds of success (for students this includes zip codes — family and school wealth, prior knowledge, family dynamic, passion for subjects, etc.)

There are likely more nuanced connections as well, but for the sake of this blog the aforementioned points will suffice.

When you view these points, the popularity of the genre (i.e., Fortnite, Hunger Games, PlayerUnknown’s Battlegrounds, etc.), should come as absolutely no surprise. Our children are being raised in this exact fashion. It shoudl be noted, however, that the popularity of Hunger Games came not from the active battle royale but from the revolution. The beloved character was not the Capitol (those in control); it was the underdog, Katniss Everdeen, fighting back against the systemic plague of pitting individuals against themselves (including friends against friends, families against families), eventually taking down the Capitol. The same could be said for Orwell’s 1984. No one was cheering for the thought police, and many find the rather long exposition detailing the corrupt government to be a bit tedious of a read. However, when Winston finally stands up against the ministry we receive an incredibly exciting 3rd part of the novel wishing the best for our subjugated underdog. Alas, we see no such victory as is usually the case.

Point being, our children are seemingly raised to enjoy the battle royale genre while consistently rooting for its demise — rooting for peace. The original fodder for this burgeoning trend was a dystopian Japanese film released in December of 2000 titled: Battle Royale. The movie depicted, get this, high schoolers (between the ages of 13–15) fighting each other to the death with the tagline reading, “Could you kill your best friend?” Despite Hunger Games being a nearly mirrored rendition of the original Battle Royale, Kinji Fukasaku’s film was banned from the states for nearly 11 years. Much of this push back came from the recency of the Columbine tragedy. Either way, the movie became a massive success with some critics commenting that the film was actually a critique of the Japanese educational system. Speaking of, another interesting note to consider is the popularity of Fortnite (specifically the “solo” mode), and the battle royale genre in congruence with location.

It is interesting to note that of the top two current battle royale style games — Fortnite and PlayerUnknown’s Battlegrounds — they, together, make up 1/3 of PC gaming in the states. What’s even more interesting to note is where the genre is most popular: America and China have the highest number of players. China’s play time dwarfs America’s with 51% of PC gamers playing the battle royale genre twice as much as their American counterparts. There are certainly many correlations to be made here, but two that are important would absolutely be access to the games as well as the coercive drive of education and academic elitism. While compared to China, America’s educational system would look lackadaisical at best, the correlation still exists. Both countries face a system of ed that favors the every person for themselves — may the best person win — win at all costs mentality, so it is easy to see why the genre is so incredibly popular.

It’s unfortunate that media of this nature seems to mirror the lives our children are currently living (whether video games or young adult novels). Teenagers are growing up believing that there can only be one at the top, and that spot is more important than anything else. If you aren’t a billionaire by 25 you might as well give up. If you aren’t the top of your class you aren’t cut out for the big leagues. It’s such an aberrant and absurd reality that the best quote to wrap it all up comes from the father of Will Ferrell’s character in the film Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby: “If you ain’t first, you’re last.” The character later admits he was probably high when he said it, making the absurdity all the more real.

To understand this is to know that education needs a well overdue reformation. We are no longer preparing students for anything other than the next school year, placing them in battle royale after battle royale, year after year. When the real world approaches, they see there are many spots other than first. They see the profundity of friendship and relationships in general. They wonder why they weren’t taught the value of sharing ideas, creative thinking, team efforts, think tanks, or the value of their own passions. They leave the battle royale seeing the world has much more to offer. Many leave wanting to return in hopes to reform and defeat the battle royale model. We are over 100 years overdue for change. It’s time to rethink the traditional model. It’s time to stop the battle royales.

If you want to know more about reforming education and re-humanizing our students and teachers, check us out! http://www.humanrestorationproject.org

Traditional Ed is a Battle Royale was originally published in Human Restoration Project on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

While listening to a podcast recently, I heard Neil deGrasse Tyson utter: “Some, but not all…”. This was in direct response to neuroscientist and author, Sam Harris. To paraphrase, Sam was harping on how despite the evidence or research, people’s anecdotes will nearly always win out when discussing claims that are either unsettling or antithetical to current trends/beliefs: especially those which may not bolster one’s confirmation bias. For instance, if someone posited that all research suggests the majority of water bottles are made from plastic, there would most certainly be naysayers replying: “Well what about mine? It’s made of glass!” And more of the same.

This is the main issue at stake:

The masses that believe their personal anecdotes outweigh logic.

Despite the fact that the original statement was “the majority of water bottles”, not, “all water bottles”, people will still rebuke the statement claiming there are water bottles in existence that are not plastic. This is where the redundancy of “some, but not all” might be put into practice: to assuage those that skim over the qualifiers such as “nearly all”, “most”, “quite a few”, “over half”, etc.

If we took the very same water bottle statement and said instead: “Current research suggests that some (or most), but not all, water bottles are made of plastic,” there is a very good chance that people who have seen anything other than a plastic water bottle will be less inclined to claim the statement as incorrect due to a single anecdotal point. Obviously words such as some or most already determine the not all portion of the statement, but perhaps this redundancy is necessary in delivering peer-reviewed, research-based information that may rub listeners the wrong way.

Why I believe this to be important and necessary to implement in my arsenal of phrases comes with the amount of disdain people tend to share on social media regarding peer-reviewed, research-based information regarding progressive methods of education. For example:

Initial Idea: “While acquiring language at a young age is of utmost importance, research is suggesting that forced and assessed reading at a young age may hamper most children's love of reading as they grow older.”

Common Rebuttal: “Can’t be right. My child is a prolific reader and has been reading since she was 5.”

Here we see this exact trend occurring. In fact, below is a very current example directly from Twitter regarding the above feigned scenario.

This is a dialogue between the two debaters regarding the initial claim that for some learning critical methods of reading while being assessed at a young age is not healthy. Clearly, we can see the anecdotal issue: “My early reader…” and we can also see the rebuttal attempting to again suggest “research suggests…failure for many” (not all).

I see this day in and day out on Twitter, Reddit, Facebook, and the like. People are incredibly quick to provide these types of anecdotal stories without really realizing it merely proves the initial statement true by asserting most children may be affected, not all children. Obviously this is a frustrating counterargument to the person presenting the information as it is unfalsifiable and anecdotal. What more, many see this form of rebuttal and agree, “Yeah! How do you prove that!?” Which, in turn, leaves the initial proponent of the argument in a state of perplexity. Will more logic work? More evidence? Odds are, no. The initial proponent, now frustrated, usually responds with anecdotes of her/his own. In fact, if we come back to the screen shot from the aforementioned Twitter argument we will see the proponent of the research replying with anecdotes:

The peer-reviewed research that was brought up is now either diluted with pseudo-fictional tales, or completely forgotten amidst a new argument looking to see who is the louder or more defamatory commenter.

That said, perhaps some redundancy is in order. If a statement as simple as, “Some, but not all…” can gravitate more freely and unharmed throughout the ether of logical thought, I’m okay with being redundant. If it brings research to the ears of those who may normally push back with anecdotes, I’m okay with it. It seems this may be a very manageable way to discuss progressive ideas in a society that tends to reject either the idea or the time and energy it may take to push the idea forward.

Some, but Not All was originally published in Human Restoration Project on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

I seem to come to this idea (generally) quite often whether discussing adolescent sleep behaviors or the toll planning and assessing can take on a passionate and engaging teacher (one not willing to recycle or resort to canned curriculum — or even those poor educators who feel manipulated and forced to recycle or used canned curriculum). Either way, it is obviously of utmost importance.

Where is the balance in education? Students (in traditional school settings) spend 7 hours taking in new information 5 days a week. This information is nearly always inert and disassociated from students’ lives. It is delivered non-stop from the moment the bell rings signaling the beginning of class (a la “bell ringers”) to the moment class is over (a la “exit slips”). Every educator seems pressured and pushed to cram as much seemingly erroneous information into a child’s mind while simultaneously finding the time to make sure that child understands and remembers all the new information. It’s like some freakish equivalent to the chubby bunny game. How many banal facts can be stuffed into a student with them saying in the end “I understand”? It’s nauseating (both the chubby bunny game and the act of bell ringers/exit slips).

Google “bell ringers” and see what you find. Here is one of my favorites — paraphrased: Need a good bell ringer? Try making fun and engaging lessons regarding vocabulary! So much of this is incendiary (philosophically and semantically). This idea is asserting that teachers simply haven’t tried. That’s why no one is interested. Try trying and see what happens. Furthermore, the people promulgating these ideas actually believe you just have to make science vocabulary fun and everyone will care. This idea suggests the education being delivered to students is so useless and erroneous that without being disguised as something fun it holds zero weight. There’s our first issue. If you have to disguise the learning, maybe we should look at the content, not the delivery. I know this is sounding as though I value absolutely no part of education — which is untrue — but the point needs to be made. Things that need to be disguised are usually a necessary evil (e.g., taking gross medicines, getting vaccine shots, euphemisms for death, etc.). Do we really want our children believing that learning (like getting a cavity filled), is an often pain inducing, boring, and fearful experience that simply has to happen, or else?

I’m too far off track here. The point from the get-go was balance. Yes, students are constantly pummeled with information and work, and then they are sent home with more work and more information. When are they decompressing? When are they actually marinating on the information that has been received? Are they ever actually thinking about it or putting it into practice? Or, is it really all for not? It’s a series of chaptered out flash cards littered with facts that bear no real meaning made for a test that is created by an organization for profit. Day after week after month after year. It’s truly punishing and ineffective.

Teachers…it’s just the same. Children are the cups, information is the liquid, teachers are the pitchers expected to pour constantly from sun up to sun down. Then, these same teachers are expected to continue studying best practice, create meaningful lesson plans, make all the mandatory and compulsory learning fun, reflect on the process, be engaged in PD, and maybe even have a family at home. (I dare someone to say, “But teachers get summers off!” Do your research. How many teachers are spending their summers preparing for the next year? Working another job to compensate for the low pay plus student loans? Even better, do you really believe it’s okay to suggest that even though a person is working nearly 17 hours a day 9.5 months of the year, they have 2.5 months to spend with family? Ugh…you probably also think 6 weeks of maternity leave is too much…). Either way, again, where is the balance? Also, yes, in this analogy teachers are the pitchers pouring liquid in the cups (students), but teachers are also being poured into constantly as well. It’s truly a vicious cycle.

This cycle is unnecessary. Time and time again studies suggest how ineffective the traditional model is. Cram, pass/fail, forget. This is an ugly model that suggests learning is no different than getting a tetanus shot. Even worse, getting 100 tetanus shots 5 days a week. The mental health of everyone in this cycle suffers, and it is not necessary. To be a progressive, engaging educator who focuses on real world/student centered projects means you actually have to give up a lot of the time you may normally spend creating / lecturing / assessing / scolding / bell ringing / etc. Instead, the students are now spending their time on creating / maintaining / justifying / etc. their own work. It is quality over quantity. It is depth over breadth. You absolutely won’t get to all of your content, but the content will be engaging because the children made it their own. The learning is fun because it’s learning.

How many times did your dad or mom or uncle or aunt or whoever tell you your music was no good? It’s not the real music they listened to back in their day. How many times did you comply saying: “Wow. You must be right because that’s what you did so now I will do the same thing and not think for myself!” I’m betting the numbers aren’t equivalent. Learning is the exact same. Why do we continue to repeat a broken and ineffective system? Because that’s what we were a part of and if it’s good enough for us…you get the point. Why is To Kill a Mockingbird the classroom read yet again? Not because it deals with perspective, aggression, racism, etc. Thousands of novels deal with these themes. Books such as this — lessons such as these — are repeated because it’s easy. It’s what we were taught. It’s what we know. That doesn’t make it right.

Students don’t need to feel constantly overwhelmed. Teachers don’t need to constantly feel on the verge of quitting their jobs. There can be a balance. But first, you must accept that the current model isn’t going to produce this balance. There must be a change made, and you can make that change. Don’t know where to start? Check us out — we’re here to help: Human Restoration Project.

One more thing…pay teachers more.

Teachers, Students…Relax was originally published in Human Restoration Project on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

I am of the opinion that education (while widely discussed if you find yourself in the right arenas), really isn’t talked about like one might expect. Sure, we may discuss specific notions of standards, school safety, or budgets, but no one ever seems to ask the seemingly innocuous question that is Why do we do it this way at all? That is, why is school, as we know it, the way that it is?

To answer this question, one may seek out books (often inline with her/his personal beliefs) and in doing so one will find pockets of general notions here and there. With enough research and enough reading, one will eventually piecemeal together a broad outline of the history of education. The problem with that is all of it. There aren’t many people who desire to become experts in this field, nor do they find it necessary. Instead, people latch on to the handful of education books or speeches they relate with (i.e., information that causes very little uproar in one’s current beliefs or dogma) and use that to understand how they will carry on offering their personal education philosophies. I don’t want that to be the case.

I believe it would be nice to have an extremely succinct, matter-of-fact timeline that can be used to determine and understand why we have the traditional system we have today. In the very same way those debating the second amendment often reach backward to explain the archaic nature of guns (as opposed to modern rifles and gluttonous magazines) during the time of the amendment’s inception, I wanted a tool that any individual might pick up and see how (also reaching backward) one can look at the methods of public school inception.

Why continuously debate a system that wasn’t intended to function in the society we currently exist in? It makes no sense. It is akin to debating the effectiveness of a lawnmower without first asking or understanding why on Earth one needs to have maintained lawn to begin with. It is doing for the sake of doing without first asking, why?

Why continuously debate a system that wasn’t intended to function in the society we currently exist in?

I have your answer! As I’m sure do many others. However, as previously mentioned, my answer comes in the form of an illustrated “children’s” book. (Children’s is emphasised with quotations marks as I truly don’t believe there will be much fun in reading this to a child, but it will certainly plant a seed of understanding when the time comes!) This illustrated timeline is intended to get straight to the major points that lead us to where we are specifically today. Many decisions were made regarding what would stay and what would go, as is the plight of any piece of writing. I believe what remains is a simple look at the reasons we are here. It answers the why? Before we continue dialoguing about best practice or how to spice up boring lessons or whether or not State Standards are fun, let’s look at why we are even in this current educational model to begin with.

It is my intention, with this novel, to bring about a sense of traditional public education reform. Yes, change is difficult and tends to happen one person at a time over the course of years or decades, but it is precisely this change that we need. It is less important that we attempt to figure out how to implement more methods of standardization in public schools and instead ask why we do it that way to begin with? Why are students placed in grades via age? Why are standardized tests given in multiple choice format? Why is test data considered a valuable means of assessing a child’s learning capacity as well as a teacher’s effectiveness? Why are students encouraged to remain quiet, attentive, obedient? Why is there a focus on only four major curricula (science, social studies, English, math)? Instead of trying to debate how we do these things, let’s ask why they’re even there to begin with. I doubt many will have an accurate, researched, or succinct answer to the question of why; and that’s okay! It’s to be expected. After all, it would be quite the endeavor to attempt to figure the whole thing out.

Instead, I offer my illustrated timeline: Where did School Come From? A (very) Brief and Illustrated Timeline of Public Education in American.

Please feel free to download this resource as it will do well to give anyone who reads it a better understanding of what is going on. Maybe then, with more inquisitive parents and children becoming attuned to this history of school, we might change the dialogue to Why on Earth are we still teaching this way — let’s reform it immediately to better suit the 21st century and our children. Many are aware of the issues. Many are aware of what doesn’t work. Let’s stop that and do something that does work. Maybe your answer is homeschooling. Maybe your answer is self-directed learning centers. Or maybe your answer is keeping public education around and making it worthwhile to create a more passionate, empathetic, civically minded, and creative future for those who can’t afford the previous suggestions.yo

Again, it’s not about what doesn’t work. We know what doesn’t work. It’s not about how can we make what exists better? What exists isn’t good, and there are a myriad of ways to reform. It’s not about when, it’s not about who. It is about why.

If you’d like to download our new “kids” book, check it out here.

Where Did Traditional Public Education Come From? was originally published in Human Restoration Project on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

I have most certainly been conditioned as an educator. From the moment I step into my room and take attendance, my inner teacher voice compels me with veracity to be immediately sure every student in my room in working with language arts. Whether they’re reading, writing, or participating in a conversation I can clearly document, assess, and tie to common core is irrelevant — I just need them working.

As I participate more and more in creating a consensual learning environment in my classroom, that inner teacher voice gets louder and louder reaching a voluminous zenith. I see students deciding not only what to read, but when to read. I see some students utilizing self-guided group work time to work as an individual. I see some students zoned out wearing earbuds adoring one of several glowing screens: others speak in a volume between “inside and outside voice.” I see all of this and, despite the quantitative research qualifying my grounds for fostering such a classroom, my inner teacher is screaming for partitioned rows of silent students notating my every word over a topic I was unfamiliar with until researching that state mandated language arts datum.

I’m not sure why, precisely, this voice still has enough clout to muster ill feelings of regret and anxiety within considering my understanding of best practice and the ethical treatment of a human being. I don’t know why, but I certainly know when. If I assign something, and they don’t do it — I hear the voice. If I’m speaking on a topic, and they aren’t intrigued or at least listening attentively — I hear the voice. If they aren’t using their designated language arts class time to work on language arts — I hear the voice. Though I know these situations to be dictatorial, non consensual, and draconian (both respectively and interchangeably it would seem), the teacher voice still cries out from within.

Why aren’t you reprimanding more often? it asks. They aren’t actually learning anything! it utters. If they won’t do the work, make it extrinsically valuable and test them on it! it suggests. This is extremely common among all educators: not only the voice, but the actions listed as well. As many educators attempt to shift a paradigm focusing on a new modus operandi they are continually bombarded by the inner homunculus suggesting traditional methods. This can most certainly be attributed to the very traditional and consistent schooling (which can be traced back to Mann’s Common Schools), and the accrediting of modern educators (which we can trace back to Mann’s Normal Schools).

Common. Normal. Two very particular words chosen with great specificity, I imagine.

We, as educators, are set up to feel an increasing urge to reduce consent in a classroom and instead fill the void with demands and commands, carrots and sticks. Many will often reflect after a long day of learning, wondering why specific subjects must be learned at specific times. Many will reflect and consider the absurdity of creating a lesson plan that 20 to 30 people will all find equally as enjoyable. Many will reflect and wonder if what is happening is truly best practice, or instead, simply preparing students to live a very common and normal life in which they can raise similarly common and normal children. We reflect and we wonder because we know something just isn’t right. Not all students want to be mathematicians, literary agents, scientists, or historians. In fact, many traditional models of high school seem to be preparing every student to in turn eventually teach in that high school. What else would one do with a mediocre understanding of these specific four subjects?

Literacy is of utmost importance. A general understanding of common mathematical principles is of utmost importance. A general understanding of scientific thinking (what many are referring to now as first principles thinking), is of utmost importance. A general understanding of our country’s quite violent history — moreover civic duties — is of utmost importance. I can’t imagine anyone arguing that. However, enforcing these studies over extended periods of time to the levels of extremity currently found in traditional — common — schools (e.g., algebra 2, physical science, etc.), is abhorrent. There is no focus on individual student’s understanding, ability, or interest at this point. The only focus is ubiquitous consistency. The two terms do sound quite redundant, but so do normal and common. I’m merely rowing in a familiar boat.

It seems I may have finally breached the definitive point of this blog, and that is another common and normal issue educators have internal struggles over: time spent on task. Time not wasted while in class. A simple Google search regarding methods to effectively using every waking second of class will conjure plenty of results. Differing results explaining how to use the remaining 15, 10, or even 5 remaining minutes of a class will purpose varying activities for your subject matter. These activities will help to ensure educators never give students a moment of respite. Why is it necessary? Why is it of utmost importance that teenagers never take 5, 10, even 15 minutes to marinate? They go through subject after subject taking in common and normal information with veritably no time to process or comprehend the information before new information is being poured in. This is an inner monologue that I believe could be won easily; let them rest. Not every waking second of class time needs to be spent analyzing, reviewing, reading, listening, etc. Sometimes merely existing can be efficient enough. Exist, be, and breathe.

If you enjoy this blog and want more like it, come check us out at The Human Restoration Project.

Good ’til the Last Drop was originally published in Human Restoration Project on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

No matter the security level (minimum, medium, maximum), prison guards working in close proximity of inmates are not allowed to carry a firearm. That means guards surrounded by sometimes the most violent of offenders are doing so unarmed. Though one may think this must be due to guards battling possible tempers (after all, prisoners have often been known to spit on, throw feces at, and generally bad mouth guards), that is far from the case. Prison guards (who have been trained with a firearm and know precisely how to use one), don’t carry firearms because it eliminates the possibility of gun deaths in the prison. Imagine how easy it might be for a group of 20 to 25 prisoners (let alone 120 to 125) to gather around a guard causing chaos and confusion while one of the prisoners in the group manages to get the guard’s weapon. Indeed this is an absolutely terrifying scenario.

Imagine, as well, the amount of responsibility one must feel carrying a firearm. Say you were a guard and were allowed to carry a handgun on your hip. You are now in charge of keeping all of the inmates in order, keeping an eye out in every direction, keeping track of the day’s schedule/events, monitoring the time, looking out for drugs or weapons in the prison, while simultaneously keeping vigilant track of the weapon holstered on your hip. There is a great lot of responsibility that goes along with such a task as carrying a firearm. This responsibility also connects directly to the psychological effects of working a job that requires you carry a firearm daily. In fact, police officers are often required to fill out “Use of Force” paperwork for simply pulling their firearm let alone using it. If an officer feels the need to use a firearm, they will more often than not speak with a certified police psychologist afterwards. In other words, carrying and using a firearm is an absolutely serious responsibility and can be quite nerve-wracking even for those comfortable and trained with their firearm.

I can recall taking my conceal and carry class quite vividly as it was my first real experience using a firearm of any kind. I may have fired a shotgun at some point with my family that lives in a stereotypical country setting, but other than that, I was 31 years old before I’d held and shot anything correctly and for an extended period of time.

I live in Ohio, so a majority of the class was spent discussing the lack of “stand your ground” laws and how you are legally better off never using your weapon considering the unique “castle doctrine” Ohio imposes. You can open carry all you want (something like a cowboy), shoot dogs that bother you, leave your weapon out (as oppose to locked up in a safe when not on your person), but if you use your firearm in self-defense there’s a good chance you will be sued. The second facet of the class that marshaled a majority of the conversation: the constant reminding that if you were to ever pull your firearm out to use you’d better be ready to use it, which you won’t be, really, since you can’t train for a life or death situation without it being, well, life or death.

Consider that. Let’s say you are a fairly well trained marksman and you know your gun well. You know how it feels to pull it from the holster and fire it accurately as you spend a great lot of time at various shooting ranges. However, how much practice do you have pulling your weapon from your holster while adrenaline is coursing during the heat of a situation that called for the use of your firearm? Probably (and hopefully) never or — at best — very rarely. Side note: I am speaking from the point of view of a person who doesn’t carry a firearm specifically for his or her job at this point.

I remember the instructor reiterating this over and over. Just because you know how to use a gun doesn’t mean you will know how to or feel comfortable firing it at another human being. Furthermore, you can’t be prepared for how you will feel after shooting another human being — potentially killing them. That was a serious part of the conversation during this training. If you pull your weapon, you are knowingly doing so with the intent to kill or seriously harm. That is quite a serious psychological undertaking for a course that takes maybe 20 percent of the time it would take to get a driver’s license. Point being, just because one may know how to use a gun doesn’t mean one knows how to use a gun under extreme pressure. There are plenty of stories of professionals pulling their firearm under duress and accidentally ejecting the magazine, or the gun didn’t “clear” the holster, or they fire the gun to early potentially harming themselves, etc. So much can go wrong even for those who train daily for a career that requires carrying a weapon for a living: like teachers…

Currently, there is a debate of sorts occurring in the public and probably private sphere regarding whether or not teachers should carry firearms in school. Of course, this debate is a direct response to the recent school shooting in Florida (and a more indirect response to the number of school shootings that have occurred in general). There is not a single part of this conversation that should be taken lightly, so if any of the following sounds cynical or flippant, that is my error in projecting an incorrect tone. That said, this notion of arming teachers is an absolutely alarming and ill conceived notion in which the positives couldn’t ever begin to outweigh the negatives. The issue isn’t whether or not a teacher could be trained to carry a firearm or something as clinical as licensing. The major issues adhere to responsibility and emotion.

Teachers — for the most part — took that position because they want to educate children and foster strong and healthy relationships. Teachers spend their days laughing, crying, disciplining, cleaning up trash, cleaning up bodily fluids, testing the constraints of their bladder, parenting, mentoring, listening, talking, evaluating, running therapy sessions, eating lunch in 5 or 10 minutes, then take all of that home with them to reflect and prepare for the next day with an average starting salary (in Ohio) of $33,000 (give or take). Now we are being asked to be well trained enough to carry a firearm as well in case we will ever need to kill a child. Not only that, but kill a child we have probably at some point taught and built a relationship with as school shooters are usually current or former students. This seems so unimaginable it’s hard to believe the current debate is not merely a fever dream we are waiting to wake up from.

The long and short of it: putting more guns into a school is absolutely not the most effective means to lessen gun violence in schools; and teachers absolutely do not deserve to have that sort of responsibility or impetus put upon them because our government has yet to determine any other route issuing a net positive. Before we begin arming educators, bricking up windows, adding metal detectors, lining fences with barbed wire, and generally turn schools into actual prisons, let’s perhaps have a real discussion that will lead to real and positive results. After all, the pen is mightier than the sword.

Guns in School was originally published in Human Restoration Project on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

A problem so common in brick and mortar (and presumably digital) schools that it would probably be safe to call it an epidemic: students falling asleep in the classroom. Maybe one or two per period, maybe just lightly dozing off, maybe crashed so hard you have shake the student to bring the escaped spirit back to the corporeal plane. Either way, again it is, if anything, a commonality. So, what do you do? Kick the desk? Gently nudge a shoulder? Convince the entire class to clap until the student wakes up immersed in a ruse and leaves feeling embarrassed? Or, let them sleep?

Looking primarily at the high school classroom (where this issue would find itself most abundant), we can say a few things for certain. On average, a teenager’s circadian rhythm, (the 24 hour cycle that determines your sleepiness), is set to approximately 10 to 11 p.m. On average, high school classes start around 7:45 a.m. On average, teenagers (to be healthy), require between 9 and 10 hours of sleep. Do the math.

If a student were able to live at school and need no time to eat or get dressed or participate in any form of hygienic activity, it’s possible 9 to 10 hours of sleep may be achievable.

Now, what’s the reality?

Let’s say a student (Max) leaves school at 2:45 (on the bus). After a 20 minute bus ride the student arrives home at 3:10 (ish). Max decides to sit down for an hour and have a snack — after all he just spent 6 hours with the expectation of working and learning at break-neck speeds. It’s 4:15. Max starts homework. It’s nearly 7 p.m. and Max has yet to play outside (or inside) or talk with his family or talk with his friends or read for fun or shower or fixate on a hobby or develop a passion or (ad infinitum). That aside, it’s time for dinner. Max sits with his family for 30 minutes to eat but suggests he still needs to get back to homework. At this point it’s nearing 8 p.m. Max showers, brushes his teeth, and gets ready for bed. Perfect. He’s in bed by 8:30 and by 9 he drifts off to sleep. So, how is there a problem? As long as our students are doing only schoolwork, eating, sleeping, and commencing in fairly rigorous hygiene, there’s no reason anyone should be tired. Absurd.

Let’s say Max participates in any after school activity (sports, dance, band, etc.). If that’s the case, Max’s schedule wouldn’t start until nearly 7 p.m. I know students who have practice in cities that are nearly 45 minutes away, getting them home sometimes at 10 p.m. That’s before homework, family time, friend time, leisure time, etc. Let’s say Max wants to build a relationship with his family or with his friends. Where does that time come from? Where does hobby time come from? Where does leisure time come from? Well, if Max skips practice for this, he’s kicked off the team. If Max skips homework, he’s in trouble at school (which will bleed into his homelife). If Max skips building relationships, he will wind up much lesser as a human being in the long run. So, the only natural choice would be to pull the time from sleep.

The reality, then, is that teenagers are getting (on average) 7 hours of sleep a night, they’re falling asleep in class, and they’re being chastised for it. Study after study insists on the absolute importance of sleep for health and regeneration and how teenagers aren’t getting nearly enough. No one would disagree. However, school hours aren’t conducive, classroom rules aren’t conducive, administrative and teacher attitudes aren’t conducive, etc. We don’t let kids sleep at night. They fall asleep in class (where it’s often quiet, warm, comfortable, and safe), and then get punished. What are we teaching them? What is the point?

So, what are your options? Well, either let the kids sleep in your class. Picket, toss, turn, yell, and generally speak up to encourage starting school much later. Don’t give homework. Or, you can suggest to the student and the parents to pull them from all after school activities and hobbies and relationships. I say start with homework (as it’s the easiest), but that’s just me.

Sleepy Kids in School was originally published in Human Restoration Project on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Commonly we hear in schools across the country that when the first bell rings the classroom doors close and they reopen again when it’s time to go home. This is extremely similar to the admin doors as well. Everyone has an office. Everyone has their space: their room. Everyone has their desk. These spaces tend to become a home away from home. However, it is precisely this facet of education that creates an immediate fracturing of admin, staff, and students. It is the physical representation of, “Leave me alone; I’m busy in my space.”

Elon Musk, an incredibly innovative and progressive entrepreneur, is known for his lack of having an office. His desk is where the biggest problems arise. He is mobile. He is aware of others as they are aware of him. With no door to close, you are inherently always open: physically and philosophically. Staff and students (and humans in general), see an open door as opportunistic, welcoming, available, friendly, accessible, and the like. Granted, one still has to come across your room, but when one does, one knows she/he is welcome. This is an incredibly empowering and uniting feeling that spreads throughout the staff, and this feeling doubles when one is not only open but mobile.

It can be quite a sad and disheartening day when a student is unaware of who their administrators are. This may be quite literal in that they truly can’t put a face to the name, or it may be more of a misunderstanding: sure, I know the name of the principal, but I don’t know the principal. While yes, this is a major malfunction in the educational system, it isn’t uncommon. So often admin may easily find themselves stuck in their office burying noses in paperwork and taking phone calls making little to no time to simply roam the halls, entering the proverbial “front lines”. Or maybe our admin simply gets so comfortable in their “home away from home” that it becomes increasingly difficult to make the rounds. While yes, it is easy to not find time to visit every room and instead keep busy with whatever can be found in the closed office, making that effort to get out and be seen can drastically transform the culture of a school expressing the importance of communication and face to face contact.

Frank McCourt wrote in Teacher Man:

First day of your teaching you are to stand at your classroom door and let your students know how happy you are to see them. Stand, I say. Any playwright will tell you that when the actor sits down the play sits down. The best move of all is to establish yourself as a presence and to do it outside in the hallway. Outside, I say. That’s your territory and when you’re out there you’ll be seen as a strong teacher, fearless, ready to face the swarm.

There is a great lot of truth to this. Granted, McCourt may have been speaking more toward the dominant power of a teacher that comes with this ultimate presence, but that is not to say the same doesn’t apply to a sense of interpersonal relationships. Yes, teachers, let your students know you are happy to see them with open doors and the like. However, our admin has the responsibility to let not only our students know this same truth but the staff as well. The staff needs to know the admin has their back and, more importantly, is simply aware of their presence. It would seem this should be a no brainer. As a principal or member of administration — in general — you would think seeing the school and knowing what is going on would not only be something you need to find time for, but you would want to find the time. When administration hunkers down in that office with a door that is often closed, that ripples throughout the cultural fabric of the school like rocks in water. Imagine all the wild projects, collaborative learning, incredible mistakes, passionate dialogues and the like that (hopefully) are constantly happening in schools. What administrator wouldn’t want to be a part of that?

It is so easy to fall into unpleasant and destructive habits without knowing it: chewing nails, skipping the gym, closing doors, dolling out worksheets, assigning points because no one is listening, ad nauseum. These habits can seem so innocuous and possibly quite menial; but, this is far from the case. You tell yourself: Well I’ll just stay in my room today and tomorrow I will get out there and see what’s going on. That tomorrow begets another tomorrow and at some point it’s been months and eventually years. Admin: don’t worry about tomorrow. Deal with that then. Don’t worry about yesterday. It is out of your control. Do what can be done today. Take the hinges off your door, push the office walls down, start doing paperwork in common areas, and watch how the ripples spread. Live the expectations of your staff and student body . They will see that, become empowered and secure in the vision, and like wildfire this will spread.

Leave the Doors Open was originally published in Human Restoration Project on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

As a teacher, I’m reminded constantly to “keep all students engaged.” If there are students with their heads down or students not participating in a discussion, it is certainly the teacher’s fault! It couldn’t possibly be that students have high anxiety during their prepubescent years resulting in poor sleep patterns. It couldn’t possibly be that students head home to a house in which they help take care of their families. It couldn’t possibly be that some students are simply disinterested in the materials presented (as if all human beings need to be persistently engaged and ultimately compelled to learn math, science, social studies, and language arts for a minimum of 12 years). Most of all, it couldn’t possibly be that these students, these “disengaged” quiet students sitting (possibly) in the back, are simply participating wholly in their minds while practicing in the arts of Lao-Tzu’s “uncarved block.”

In Lao-Tzu’s Tao Te Ching, he references (often), the power of doing little. Our society is greatly focused on consumerism, no doubt about it. Furthermore, I don’t (personally) believe this to be inherently wrong or bad, but it is certainly not the only way one can go about existing. While modern times have produced a massive influx of information and methods of retrieving, they have not yet produced methods of discernment or reflection or languid thought. That is to say, using modern inventions to aggregate mass information is not correlative to living a thoughtful, wise, or intentional life. Lao-Tzu states, “Those who know do not talk. Those who talk, do not know.” Of course, such a paradox is not meant to (necessarily) be taken literally, but instead interpreted for its root truth or deeper meaning. I find that deeper meaning, simply put, to be stating, “Shout out to all the quiet kids in classrooms all over the world for taking the time to possibly be considering a topic that is being openly discussed, ruminating over it, and digging deep to understand what their stance may or may not be and then — if the teacher is thoughtful enough — responding with their own ideas via a plethora of methods” (e.g., blog posts, digital discussion boards, short essays, etc.).

Perhaps, these students appearing disengaged, shouldn’t be labeled (with haste more often than not) as “mouth breathers” who the teachers can’t engage. Instead, we should look to these students for guidance, as they are currently exhibiting ancient Chinese philosophies while simultaneously taking the time to understand information before spouting out personal thoughts and ideas. There is certainly something to be said for the students who practice contemplation: who practices “think before you speak.” Yet, as a society, we tend to praise the students who think little yet participate much. That, for whatever reason, is consistently used as a correlation for “good” teaching and engaging or rigorous lessons. It matters little if the students are learning to think, as long as they speak much and with haste.

I say “no more!” to such nonsense. It is important that we have students willing and able to digest information and analyze its merit. No doubt, Lao-Tzu would be riveted and delighted with our “disengaged” or quiet students as they live the life of the uncarved block well. Granted there are always two sides to a coin, but the point here is understanding that not all students engage in similar ways. Many students, as Lao-Tzu discusses, simply engage differently, utilizing deep thought and constant reflection. This may certainly appear to look “useless” to those grading classroom goings on, but with that said, it is important to remember, “When the block is carved, it becomes useful. When the sage uses it, he becomes ruler” (Lao-Tzu, chapter 28). Give those quiet kids a chance. Give them a separate platform to encourage their deep thinking. And, most of all, give props to those quiet kids in class; they will most likely never forget it.

Shout Out to the Quiet Kids was originally published in Human Restoration Project on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

I teach high school English. I think it is important to acknowledge that upfront. I say this because many things I notice in my classroom make me wonder if they are — at that point — able to be redirected by one person (me) in a very short amount of time (9 months). Is it possible that the current traditional education model has dropped these teenagers off at my classroom’s threshold with destructive traits that have now fallen onto my shoulders? Most certainly the middle school says the same about primary school, primary school may say the same about caregivers, and, presumably, universities say the same about high school educators. So, there is certainly an issue. Somebody is doing these learners a disservice at some point and expecting someone else to fix it. Every year.

One thing I have grown considerably weary of — in the classroom — is searching for and developing methods of reading (literature) instruction. I’ve found absolutely zilch in the area of connecting state standards with some form of curriculum that encourages personal growth in, excitement for, and a lifelong passion of reading. In fact, insofar as I can surmise, a traditional school setting may quite possibly be a perfect condition to foster a lifelong disdain for reading.

• Novels are pre chosen by someone else’s interests or personal history
• Reading is delegated by length and time (when and how long)
• All reading is connected to various questions regarding specific details (often times given out of order as to make finding the answers in the novel more difficult)
• Interest is not required (and often times a lack of interest is not tolerated)
• Not reading will only result in a negative consequence (despite personal interest)

As each year passes I continually seek out methods to build rapport between students and reading. The whole class novel seems directly ineffective and grouping students in small pockets regarding novels chosen from a narrow and finite list seems a step in the right direction (albeit, this is a false sense of choice as these books still may have very little to do with the reader’s interests and will be followed up with reports and questions and tests and essays). Regardless, neither seems effective. Both methods leave students with a further distaste for reading and a probable hatred of the novel they had to read (granted many students will never have read the novel utilizing CliffsNotes, friends, or plagiarism to fill in the gaps). None of this will foster a love for reading. It will absolutely have the adverse reaction. I was never happy with any of these options. These methods aren’t even taking into account other common issues with reading in the high school setting (e.g., having students read at home despite them never having quiet time to sit and read, assuming all students read at the same pace, assuming all students comprehend at the same pace, assuming students will read and comprehend difficult and antiquated texts because you enjoy them or because they have to, etc.).

I no longer feel comfortable participating in this practice. I’ve watched students put books away they want to be reading to have an unenthusiastic discussion about a book they would’ve never read unless it was tied to their GPA. I’ve watched a classroom full of interesting people stare at me wide-eyed having professed my disappointment regarding their being unprepared for a class discussion over a book they loathed. I’ve dissected books to no end, having students read and reread portions to find the meaning I wanted them to find (because, more likely than not, someone taught me that very same thing at some point). I’ve participated in these practices and, though I resent these actions, they’ve led me to where I am today: No Tech 20.

At the beginning of every class my students are given 20 minutes to read anything they want. (If 20 minutes seems extravagant, consider I teach a semester long course with daily 90 minute classes.) All I’m giving my students is a comfortable and quiet place to read as well as a selection (albeit currently frugal selection) of books/magazines/comics that I’ve acquired with my own money/resources. The rules are as follows:

• No technology for 20 minutes (we are a 1:1 school — I have nothing against technology, but it’s nice to take a break)
• Bring in something to read (magazine, book, comic, etc.) or choose something from the humble library (graphic novels, young adult lit, some classics, magazines, etc.)
• If you don’t like what you’re reading, put it down and choose something else (personal agency/autonomy) but do read something
• No tests/questions/discussions on the reading (unless you’d like to share something you found interesting in your reading or suggest the book for others)
• Read quietly for 20 minutes

I’ve been doing this for several weeks, and I’ve discovered quite a bit. I’ve seen students struggle with reading much more than I would ever have thought. I mean much more. Quite a few students seem stumped as to what they want to read. It’s as if they can’t remember the last time they were given an option and now are merely waiting for me to choose something for them. When I suggest they pick something they are interested in, they seem even more confused. At that point, I’m not even sure how I could be of service. If a student, at 14–15 years old, doesn’t know what she/he is interested in, a much more significant problem exists: self-identify. Of course this merely reinforces the work done in the Human Restoration Project, but that doesn’t make it any easier to swallow. Not only are many students struggling with reading at a basic level, but they are struggling with understanding who they are. They are having difficulties making a decision — one as simple as what are you interested in? Is it possible, in 9 months, that this activity will make any sort of mark on these students? I suppose I will see.

That said, the positives have been through the roof. Students have requested more time to read. Many have expressed gratitude for the time in class. Some students have even gone so far as to print off the fanfiction they’ve been reading online and place it in a three-ring binder to read from (adhering to the No Tech rule). Usually it takes weeks — sometimes months — to build a routine with a new class. By day two, students had their various texts out and ready to read.

As I mentioned, this “curriculum” has absolutely no connection to standards — aside from just reading in general. It won’t garner a grade. It can’t be quantified. And all of that is okay with me. Hopefully, it will rekindle and foster a love for reading (whether it’s MAD Magazine or Jane Eyre), bringing with it a myriad of positives. Will this practice make a massive change in the lives of my students over the course of 9 (ish) months? Maybe. Will it be a small reminder of the power of literacy? Absolutely. And again, that is okay with me.

I Don’t Want to Make Kids Hate Reading Anymore was originally published in Human Restoration Project on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.