
A scandal. Chaotic. A disaster. Irrelevant. A bazaar. Artificial. Irresponsible. Narrow. Fragmented. Incoherent. Those are the words of nationally-known educators describing the general education curriculum. They've been using those kinds of words to describe the curriculum for at least a century, yet little has changed:
We still have a curriculum shaped
by accident and political maneuvering rather than by reason and logic.
We still have a curriculum that
completely ignores some of the most important aspects of human experience.
We still have a curriculum that
denies the systemic nature of reality.
We still have a curriculum which
tells us nothing about the relative importance of various kinds of knowledge.
We still have a curriculum that
encourages teachers and students to neglect every mental process except
recall.
Any one of these problems is sufficiently
serious to warrant calling a halt to what we're doing. To make matters
worse, the problems affect not simply what does or doesn't go on in students'
heads, but also discipline, evaluation, motivation, administrative organization,
public attitudes, legislative activity, building configuration, technology,
the kinds of people attracted to teaching, teacher training--everything
connected to educating.
Why can't we put together a better
curriculum? Surely not because we haven't tried. Just about every school
in the country has a committee working on the problem. We have more people
claiming to be educational experts than any other nation on earth. Our
professional publications--of which there are many--are always searching
for fresh ideas to share. Foundations and other funding agencies offer
support for all but the flimsiest proposals. At least some school leaders
are willing to try just about anything.
Why, then, haven't we been able
to construct a more acceptable general education curriculum?
Because we're trying to assemble
it from scraps--from bits and pieces borrowed from a random assortment
of academic disciplines. Given the materials, the product is inevitable.
Are there other, better materials
available? Absolutely.
We're trying to help our students
(and ourselves) make more sense of reality. In western culture, we begin
to do that by dumping every aspect of experience--everything we think about--into
one of five categories. We do this automatically, instantly, "naturally."
We can't help ourselves.
All that reality "out there"--all
that we and our instruments can perceive--is ENVIRONMENT.
The meaning-building organisms
which perceive environments are HUMANS.
What humans think about what they
perceive are PERCEPTIONS OF REALITY. (Different groups of humans tend to
have different perceptions of reality.)
Humans who share perceptions of
reality tend to follow the same PATTERNS OF ACTION.
That's four categories of reality.
RELATIONSHIPS BETWEEN THE FOUR make a fifth category.
Biology, political science, literature,
chemistry, economics, physics--the only place where human experience is
packaged so arbitrarily and so artificially is in school. Take our thought
processes apart and, to the extent that such things are divisible, what
will emerge will be five categories of reality. In simple terms: Stage.
Actors. Plot. Action. Play.
If we will but recognize, formalize and elaborate our five natural categories of reality (and when we're working within a category constantly remind ourselves and our students of that category's relationship to the others) we'll have the best possible tool for selecting, organizing and integrating the kindergarten-through-graduate school general education curriculum.
I've worked almost daily with this
idea for a quarter of a century, with students from the fourth grade through
the graduate level. I've worked with it with teachers and non-academics.
I know a little of what it can do. If the purpose of general education
is to help students make sense of the human condition, I'll put a curriculum
based on the five categories of reality up against any curriculum based
on the traditional disciplines (or based on anything else).
No doubt the whole idea sounds
bizarre. When the book-length manuscript describing this alternative theoretical
foundation for the curriculum was sent out for review by its eventual publisher,
one expert wrote in large letters across the last page: "This is almost
pure schlock."
A reassuring response. "Any new
theory," wrote William James, "is first attacked as absurd. Then it is
admitted to be true, but obvious and insignificant. Finally, it seems to
be important, so important that its adversaries claim they themselves discovered
it."
Given the sorry state of education,
it's surely time to move the curriculum in a different, logically defensible
direction. Behind the soft-focus memories of how much better it was when
we were young, behind the never-ending administrative mixing and matching
of the same old stuff, behind the view that everything will be OK when
everybody has a PC and it's plugged into the Ultimate Data Base, lies the
assumption that the disciplines are what educating is all about.
That assumption is moving us steadily
toward educational bankruptcy. If we don't dump it, and dump it soon, we're
out of business.