There are many perks to having a blog. For one thing, posting feels like a semi-productive use of time. But mostly, I love that it's another chance to write, and what I write can be made available to the virtual world within a matter of seconds.
In this year's State of the Union address, Barack Obama focused on his plans for education reform, and emphasized the nation's slipping competitiveness in math and science. According to the most recent Nation's Report Card, a Department of Education survey on grade-level proficiency, only 21 percent of twelfth-graders were proficient in science in 2009, and 26 percent were proficient in math. In order to compete in a post-industrial knowledge economy, of course Obama is correct in his assertion that education programs in the maths and sciences need to improve.
At first, Obama's speech made me feel obsolete, as math and science are not where my strengths and interests lie. But after he finished, I realized Obama failed to mention a undeniably important skill that even the most brilliant scientists need in order to coherently share their findings.
Writing.
Only 24 percent of twelfth-graders were found to be proficient in writing; yet, Obama did not mention any plans for improving English programs (or foreign language programs, oddly enough, which are essential in today's global society).
Maybe writing proficiency is not what makes a country "competitive," but would anyone's education be complete without it? Maybe the folks at home wouln't want to hear that a portion of our budget will be used for improving English language programs nationwide ("Our tax dollars are going towards what?").
Yet writing is a form of communication that is essential not only in story-telling, but also in sharing new ideas and discoveries, in analyzing texts or phenomena, in describing the world we inhabit. It is the ultimate form of expression, creativity, and a true catharsis.
Maybe I am obsolete. At least I'll be able to write about it.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Should We Be Forced?
This past winter break, 480 students at Bard College participated in a mandatory program called Citizen Science, a rigorous, hands-on course that familiarized students with lab equipment and computer modeling, and taught them about all aspects of disease, including detecting germs and managing pandemics.
Bard's president, David Botstein, the brainchild behind Citizen Science, said, “The hidden Achilles’ heel is that while we’ve found ways to educate scientists in the humanities, the reverse has never really happened. Everybody knows this, but nobody wants to do anything about it.”
Students neither receive credit nor grades for their work. Certainly, the initiative allows students who normally would not choose a science-based course to learn without the pressure that inevitably accompanies a graded class.
The National Academy of Sciences, in its 2005 report, "Rising Above the Gathering Storm," said that the United States "faced a future of economic decline if it failed to make significant investments in research in and teaching of science and mathematics," according to The New York Times.
Thus, the question: should we be forced to learn science, perhaps even pursue it? Even if we're not a "science person?" And what does it mean to be a science person anyway?
Also according to The Times, only 16 percent of American college students received a degree in natural sciences or engineering in 2006. In China, 38 percent of students majored in a scientific field that year.
For those who aren't scientifically-inclined, and don't know how they'd fare in a traditional Chem or Bio course, perhaps Bard's initiative is a good thing, offering students a chance to test the waters--without fear of drowning amidst pre-meds or engineers.
Yet what is really the motive behind Citizen Science? Is it simply to expose the "humanities people" to science (an aim normally achieved through general education requirements)? Or, is it an attempt to gain more "science people"? And can Bard's no-pressure method achieve this goal?
Although there is no grade, the students have a final project. According to The Times, one group project was a dance performance that illustrated how an infleunza vaccine works.
While this sort of thinking is innovative and certainly requires a thorough understanding of the material, if Bard's goal is to encourage further coursework and majors in the hard sciences, perhaps Citizen Science is not the most accurate introduction. (If, on the other hand, Dr. Botstein simply wants the humanities people to have some understanding of science, then this is a unique method to achieve that aim.)
Bard's initiative begs the question: should we learn what we want to learn (within reason), or should we be forced to pursue fields of academia that will make the United States more "competitive" on the global scale? Is our education for ourselves, for the sake of learning, exposure to new things and understanding our place in society, or is our education meant to help our nation "compete"?
It's in bad taste to end a post with a series of questions, but obviously, I'm without the answers.
Bard's president, David Botstein, the brainchild behind Citizen Science, said, “The hidden Achilles’ heel is that while we’ve found ways to educate scientists in the humanities, the reverse has never really happened. Everybody knows this, but nobody wants to do anything about it.”
Students neither receive credit nor grades for their work. Certainly, the initiative allows students who normally would not choose a science-based course to learn without the pressure that inevitably accompanies a graded class.
The National Academy of Sciences, in its 2005 report, "Rising Above the Gathering Storm," said that the United States "faced a future of economic decline if it failed to make significant investments in research in and teaching of science and mathematics," according to The New York Times.
Thus, the question: should we be forced to learn science, perhaps even pursue it? Even if we're not a "science person?" And what does it mean to be a science person anyway?
Also according to The Times, only 16 percent of American college students received a degree in natural sciences or engineering in 2006. In China, 38 percent of students majored in a scientific field that year.
For those who aren't scientifically-inclined, and don't know how they'd fare in a traditional Chem or Bio course, perhaps Bard's initiative is a good thing, offering students a chance to test the waters--without fear of drowning amidst pre-meds or engineers.
Yet what is really the motive behind Citizen Science? Is it simply to expose the "humanities people" to science (an aim normally achieved through general education requirements)? Or, is it an attempt to gain more "science people"? And can Bard's no-pressure method achieve this goal?
Although there is no grade, the students have a final project. According to The Times, one group project was a dance performance that illustrated how an infleunza vaccine works.
While this sort of thinking is innovative and certainly requires a thorough understanding of the material, if Bard's goal is to encourage further coursework and majors in the hard sciences, perhaps Citizen Science is not the most accurate introduction. (If, on the other hand, Dr. Botstein simply wants the humanities people to have some understanding of science, then this is a unique method to achieve that aim.)
Bard's initiative begs the question: should we learn what we want to learn (within reason), or should we be forced to pursue fields of academia that will make the United States more "competitive" on the global scale? Is our education for ourselves, for the sake of learning, exposure to new things and understanding our place in society, or is our education meant to help our nation "compete"?
It's in bad taste to end a post with a series of questions, but obviously, I'm without the answers.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Why We Should Actually Criticize the Tiger Mother
I don't remember much about being seven years old. Yes, I vaguely remember going to school, doing my homework, and taking piano lessons and tennis lessons. But mostly, I remember wild sleepovers with my friends, arts and crafts projects with my mother, and pool parties in my backyard.
Early last week, Americans denounced Amy Chua, a Yale law professor; in her book, Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother, Chua details her extreme "Chinese" parenting style, while accusing American parents of lacking authority. Though she even mocks her own methods, some of what her book revealed simply cannot be laughed off.
Chua's two daughters were not allowed to have friends over or sleepovers. They couldn't make silly arts and crafts projects like I did, or watch TV or play video games. Though America is undeniably filled with parents who push and pressure their kids, Chua didn't stand for nonsense (though why Chua equates fun with nonsense is what's truly nonsensical), and only demanded excellence from her daughters. As a result, they get straight A's and win musical competitions.
The stories that point to Chua's severe parenting are the ones that enraged America, such as when Chua deemed her daughters' handmade birthday cards as being unsatisfactory and demanded they make new ones, or when Chua threatened to burn one of her daughter's stuffed animals until she played a piece of music flawlessly.
These extreme accounts horrify me, too; however, I feel there is a deeper problem with Chua's style of parenting, a crucial one that many American critics are missing in their broadsides against her.
Chua is raising her children to live in a world without social interaction.
Her children might be mathematically-advanced and musical geniuses, but how do they fare in the cafeteria? Maybe lunchtime isn't a class with a grade, but it sure as hell is an important component of the school day. And while Chua pushes her children to constantly build and strengthen intellectual and musical skills, what setting does she provide to let them build their characters? No matter how well her daughters can take a derivative, if they can't work in teams or interact with their peers, those skills won't take them very far.
Perhaps her daughters will have "success" in the future, however Chua defines it. For a number of reasons aside from Chua's parenting, they probably will. Yet they already lost out on something: fun. I never won musical competitions, or any significant competitions for that matter, as a child, but my childhood accomplished more than theirs. I can look back on it and remember my crazy play dates and slumber parties, both of which helped shape my character and my internal moral compass. I learned way more about life and about myself from those interactions than from any elementary classroom lesson.
Maybe my childhood wasn't a success in Chua's eyes. I would be horrified if it were.
Monday, January 17, 2011
AZ in the News (Again)
Stories on the shooting in Tuscon are flooding the newspapers (and their online equivalents), but Arizona was in The Times yesterday for a different reason: its new backward education law.
A new education law, which took effect Dec. 31, bans classes that "promote resentment toward a race or class of people" or "advocate ethnic solidarity instead of the treatment of pupils as individuals." While the law sounds ethical on paper (though I'm a little fuzzy on how it defines "ethnic solidarity"), Arizona's new attorney general, Tim Horne, used it to prohibit a Mexican-American ethnic studies program in the Tuscon Unified School District. Mr. Horne is the man who wrote the law.
And I thought we were in the 21st century.
Mr. Horne accused the program of "brainwashing" Latino students, claiming it taught "ethnic chauvinism" because it uses works by authors critical of the United States' historical relationship with Latin America and its past treatment of Latinos.
Where does critical thinking come into play if students learn "one side" of the story, and don't engage with relevant texts that shed a new, perhaps unfavorable, light on the United States for a particular issue? Isn't an education supposed to encourage students to understand their place in the world? How can they do that when perspectives are removed from the discussion?
I had an English professor this year who emphasized the "Aha!" moments in essay writing. Similarly, isn't an education (or an ideal education) a series of "Aha!" moments, in which different pieces of a greater picture come together in a way you never thought imaginable?
The students in the Tuscon Unified School District won't have these "Aha!" moments any longer, at least when it comes to Mexican-American relations--a crucial part of the American historical narrative.
Tuscon school officials say the program has helped students keep their grades up and stay in school.
A new education law, which took effect Dec. 31, bans classes that "promote resentment toward a race or class of people" or "advocate ethnic solidarity instead of the treatment of pupils as individuals." While the law sounds ethical on paper (though I'm a little fuzzy on how it defines "ethnic solidarity"), Arizona's new attorney general, Tim Horne, used it to prohibit a Mexican-American ethnic studies program in the Tuscon Unified School District. Mr. Horne is the man who wrote the law.
And I thought we were in the 21st century.
Mr. Horne accused the program of "brainwashing" Latino students, claiming it taught "ethnic chauvinism" because it uses works by authors critical of the United States' historical relationship with Latin America and its past treatment of Latinos.
Where does critical thinking come into play if students learn "one side" of the story, and don't engage with relevant texts that shed a new, perhaps unfavorable, light on the United States for a particular issue? Isn't an education supposed to encourage students to understand their place in the world? How can they do that when perspectives are removed from the discussion?
I had an English professor this year who emphasized the "Aha!" moments in essay writing. Similarly, isn't an education (or an ideal education) a series of "Aha!" moments, in which different pieces of a greater picture come together in a way you never thought imaginable?
The students in the Tuscon Unified School District won't have these "Aha!" moments any longer, at least when it comes to Mexican-American relations--a crucial part of the American historical narrative.
Tuscon school officials say the program has helped students keep their grades up and stay in school.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Jersey Shore at B&N
The fact that the "Jersey Shore" is today's most popular television show reflects the pathetic state of American society. Still, I'm not a "TV snob"--I watch my fair share of junk television, though I'd like to think "Millionaire Matchmaker" and "The Real Housewives of New York City" are at least a tad more respectable. We're all entitled to the mental downtime these shows provide.
Yet the fact that "Snooki" is writing a book (a novel, not an autobiography), titled A Shore Thing, crosses the line.
The girl whose claim to fame is excessive partying, drinking, and general shenanigan-type behavior, the girl who said "I'm too pretty to be in jail," should not be on the shelves at Barnes and Noble alongside great writers, intellects, pundits, researchers, or people simply with a good story.
Currently, I try to avoid the "Jersey Shore" phenomenon: I turn off the TV, dodge conversation about it, and choose not to buy Snooki products. Yet once a book with Snooki's beehive-hair on its cover enters my bookstores--well, that's when I'll be furious.
Simon and Schuster is the publisher behind Snooki's book; if you'd like a different Simon and Schuster read, pre-order a copy of Live and Let Love. The book comes out on February 1st. A link is below:
http://books.simonandschuster.com/Live-and-Let-Love/Andrea-Buchanan/9781439191354
Friday, January 14, 2011
That's What She Said
I thought the headline was sarcastic when I saw it flash across my computer screen on The Times website.
According to New York City Schools Chancellor Cathellen P. Black, birth control just might be the solution to school overcrowding.
Yesterday evening during a meeting with Assembly Speaker Sheldon Silver and his school overcrowding task force, Ms. Black addressed the problem head-on:
“Couldn’t we just have some birth control for a while?” Ms. Black asked. “It would really help us.”
Demographic projections predict a shortage of 1,000 school seats by 2015 in the downtown Manhattan area.
Yes, Ms. Black laughed at her own comment. Still, perhaps I'm not getting the joke. I certainly don't find it funny.
Ms. Black's spokeswoman, Natalie Ravitz, offered an apology on behalf of Chancellor Black, and characterized the comment as an "off-handed joke."
Isn't it so comforting to know City kids are in the hands of a woman with a sense of humor?
Maybe I would find the "joke" funny if it were part of a conversation at my dinner table. But coming from the chancellor--the woman whose job it is to ensure that our children receive an education--I find it nothing short of twisted and disconcerting.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Re-Assessing Our Stance on Gun Control
The debate over gun control is indubitably a heated and complex one, with a vast abyss of middle ground that makes forming a clear opinion a difficult feat. The Constitution’s Second Amendment states that it is the right of the people to keep and bear arms, and not only are the applications of this amendment in question, but also the precise meaning.
Gun rights advocates claim that people have the right to own arms for their defense. Yet as cognitive beings, people have the ability to choose what to do with a weapon once it is in their possession. In the case of Jared Loughner, clearly a disturbed individual, he made the choice to use a gun to kill in a fatal rampage outside a Tuscon grocery store on Jan. 8, 2011. According to The New York Times, Loughner legally purchased the semiautomatic Glock pistol used in the shooting at Sportsman’s Warehouse, which sells hunting and fishing gear, on Nov. 30 in Tucson. State gun laws in Arizona allow the carrying of a concealed weapon.
Furthermore, Loughner "had repeated contact with law enforcement officers over the years," according to The Times, and yet, he was still able to purchase a weapon.
Perhaps the saying should go: "People kill people, and can more easily do so when weapons can be purchased just as quickly as shoes."
Simply put, I don't trust all of my fellow citizens. While of course not everyone who purchases a gun intends to pull the trigger, I don't believe every person is capable of handling gun ownership. What I certainly do believe is that many, many tragedies--murders, suicides--could have been avoided if guns were not so readily accessible.
Plus, for those who believe owning a gun for defense purposes is a wise safety precaution, statistics from the Brady Campaign to Prevent Gun Violence say otherwise. A gun in the home is eleven times more likely to be used in an attempted suicide than to be used to injure or kill in self-defense. And of these attempted suicides with a gun, more than ninety percent are fatal; in comparison, only three percent of suicide attempts with drugs or cutting result in death.
We need to re-assess the Second Amendment. If a gun is legally allowed to be in the hands of every American, how many lives are we putting at risk? How many guns will land in the wrong hands? And most importantly, are public safety and gun ownership mutually exclusive?
The National Rifle Association called the Loughner rampage a "senseless tragedy"--senseless it was, indeed. So does it not make sense that the right to live in a secure nation should come before the right to keep and bear arms?
Gun rights advocates claim that people have the right to own arms for their defense. Yet as cognitive beings, people have the ability to choose what to do with a weapon once it is in their possession. In the case of Jared Loughner, clearly a disturbed individual, he made the choice to use a gun to kill in a fatal rampage outside a Tuscon grocery store on Jan. 8, 2011. According to The New York Times, Loughner legally purchased the semiautomatic Glock pistol used in the shooting at Sportsman’s Warehouse, which sells hunting and fishing gear, on Nov. 30 in Tucson. State gun laws in Arizona allow the carrying of a concealed weapon.
Furthermore, Loughner "had repeated contact with law enforcement officers over the years," according to The Times, and yet, he was still able to purchase a weapon.
Perhaps the saying should go: "People kill people, and can more easily do so when weapons can be purchased just as quickly as shoes."
Simply put, I don't trust all of my fellow citizens. While of course not everyone who purchases a gun intends to pull the trigger, I don't believe every person is capable of handling gun ownership. What I certainly do believe is that many, many tragedies--murders, suicides--could have been avoided if guns were not so readily accessible.
Plus, for those who believe owning a gun for defense purposes is a wise safety precaution, statistics from the Brady Campaign to Prevent Gun Violence say otherwise. A gun in the home is eleven times more likely to be used in an attempted suicide than to be used to injure or kill in self-defense. And of these attempted suicides with a gun, more than ninety percent are fatal; in comparison, only three percent of suicide attempts with drugs or cutting result in death.
We need to re-assess the Second Amendment. If a gun is legally allowed to be in the hands of every American, how many lives are we putting at risk? How many guns will land in the wrong hands? And most importantly, are public safety and gun ownership mutually exclusive?
The National Rifle Association called the Loughner rampage a "senseless tragedy"--senseless it was, indeed. So does it not make sense that the right to live in a secure nation should come before the right to keep and bear arms?
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