that’s life! JOANNE BROKAW
Adding up my ignorance There’s been a lot of talk lately about Common Core, the new national education initiative, and the way students are now being taught to do basic math. From what I can understand, based on this example of Sam and his marbles, kids don’t just add two numbers to get one answer. They “decompose” numbers and perform several additional problems to solve the original problem. I’ve been told that this process allows students to learn “various strategies to solve addition and subtraction problems.” But why complicate something just because you can? Eight plus 7 will always be 15, no matter how much you decompose it. I confess that I (obviously) don’t know much about math or Common Core and the debate over its evils or merit. What I do know is that if this is the way kids are being taught today, I would never survive elementary school. Back then, I barely knew my own name. Picture this: It’s the first day of first grade and the bright classroom is filled with eager students sitting quietly at their desks. The teacher calls the roll, gently sounding out names which are answered with a “here” by child after child. She finishes with the Zs and asks, “Is there anyone whose name I didn’t call?” I raise my hand. “What’s your last name, dear?” “Keltz,” I answer, embarrassed as all eyes turn to me. We’re sure I’m in the wrong room, and even first-graders know when to savor someone else’s pain. “Oh! I did call your name, sweetheart.” She smiles and puts a checkmark on her list. “Elizabeth J. Keltz.” “No, my name isn’t Elizabeth,” I reply, frightened, because I’m the center of attention, and pleased, because I am the center of attention, and curious, because someone else in the room has the
38
REFRESHED | April 2014
same last name as I do. “I’m Joanne.” “I see,” she says with a puzzled look on her face, and calls the office secretary, who calls my parents, only to find out that, in fact, I am Elizabeth J. Keltz— the “J” being Joanne. Now I’m puzzled, because I’m pretty sure no one ever told me that. I’ve redeemed myself as the kid who couldn’t find the right classroom, but am now forever pegged as the firstgrader who doesn’t know her own name. What a stupid-head. Things apparently got a little better over the years, as evidenced by my fourth-grade report card. The teacher gave me high marks in language arts, science and social studies. But in mathematics? She wrote, “Joanne could use more work on the fast recall of multiplication and division facts, especially those involving 7, 8 and 9.” (She also wrote that I offer “a great deal to our class discussions,” which I think was a polite way of saying I talked a lot.) To be honest, I still have trouble with my multiplication facts, especially those involving 7, 8, and 9. (And it will come as no surprise to anyone who knows me that I still talk a lot.) But I’m not stupid. Sure, I’m not the first person you’d call if you needed to divide a cookie into three equal pieces so that everyone got the same number of chocolate chips. And yet I’ve still managed to grow up to be a reasonably successful adult with a keen interest in learning, someone who can carry on an intelligent conversation on myriad topics. But even I admit there’s a lot of stuff they taught in school that I never learned. I did learn at an early age that touching frogs won’t give you warts. But even though I took high school biology, I can’t dissect a frog or tell you where its vital organs are located, even if said frog is already partially dissected by the
blades of a lawn mower. While I’m sure that knowledge of frog anatomy comes in handy for some adults, the less complicated fact—hat frogs aren’t contagious—has been far more useful to me. I really stole the show at my brother-in-law’s outdoor wedding, for example, when I caught a frog with my bare hands. And that’s my point. Learning should be about solving problems, not creating more of them. Forget complex math. Teach kids how to chase and then catch a frog at a dinner party (with bonus points for doing it in a dress and heels). That’s a core skill that’ll actually come in handy later in life. Award-winning freelance writer Joanne Brokaw spends her days dreaming of things she’d like to do but probably never will— like swimming with dolphins, cleaning the attic and someday overcoming the trauma of elementary school picture day. She lives with two dogs, a cat, six chickens and one very patient husband. Learn more at www.joannebrokaw.com.