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Lessons Taught, Lessons Learned Vol. II
Some Observations Concerning
Excellent Rural Alaskan Schools
by Bob Moore
Kenai Peninsula Borough School District
Nikolaevsk is a community of Old Believer
Russian immigrants located on the Kenai Peninsula and known for its
conservative position on many issues
- educational and otherwise. The residents
of Nikolaevsk had sought an "island of refuge"
- a
place where they could "practice, without interference, the tenets of
the faith and raise our children in the truth," and had found, they
thought, their dreams fulfilled in Alaska. After purchasing the land
in 1967, and building homes from virgin forest in 1968, they were
ready for a school. I began as the only teacher in the remote
community in 1970, and although prepared professionally as an
educator, I found I had much to learn.
My first day of school in September, 1970 was
spent in the homes, gardens and greenhouses of parents of Nikolaevsk
students. A student fluent in both Russian and English accompanied me
as I told parents the hours school would be in session and the
subject matter which I would teach. I requested their support and
told them I was not there to destroy any precept or belief they held,
but to build upon those things which would insure capable,
contributing citizens. My pragmatic approach was that I would not
teach anything that they did not need to know. My able translator
communicated my words in Russian and reported back to me parental
responses in three short words: "We will watch."
Little did I understand the real meaning in
those words. But soon I learned that without television, radio, or
phones in the community, my punctual arrival in the village each
morning would be used as a standard to set clocks, and that lunch
break and afternoon dismissal confirmed accurate time. In striding
through the village going to or from the school building, I received
bows, smiles and greetings from the elders and students alike. Daily,
from one to a half dozen elders would visit the school to observe
quietly from a few minutes to a half hour or more. They would enter
quietly, bow to me as I taught, then observe student behavior and
involvement, quietly whispering questions or concerns to students as
they observed my interaction with their children, grandchildren,
godchildren, relatives or acquaintances. I would respond to their
arrival or departure with a bow or nod and continue working with
students in grades one through eight.
I learned much in those first few years as we
worked together in the classroom, as we dug potatoes, and harvested
cabbages and other vegetables in the gardens, as we caught trout
together in the streams, played soccer in the village road, picked up
garbage and trash as it accumulated along the road, and a hundred
other activities and projects. It was in late September, 1974, when
several village elders came to me at school and asked, "Mr. Moore,
will you teach us to be citizens of your country?" By then I had some
knowledge of the intense persecution in the Old Believers' three
hundred years history, and I could not help crying at this tremendous
compliment they had given me.
I consented and our citizenship class started
in October and would continue through April. Two nights a week for
three hours was scheduled. Imagine my surprise on the first night
when 65 people between the ages of 16 and 65 attended!
Attendance did not drop, but continued high. I never got away with
only three hours of instruction - more often closer to four
hours.
At an early session where reading, writing,
basic citizenship, and government were being taught to individuals
who spoke Russian as a first language, and also spoke Chinese,
Portuguese, and some English, an important lesson was brought home to
me. After over three hours of instruction to adults and a long day of
instructing children in grades one through eight, several elders and
I were discussing education. One elder turned to me and said, "Mr.
Moore, our children are like small boats, and the school is one oar.
You may splash a lot or work very hard, but the little boat goes in a
circle. The parents or home is like the other oar, and we too often
make a lot of splashing, but the child, he goes in a circle the other
way, but together we keep him straight."
Another shared, "How do you wash your hands to
get them clean? Do you dip one in the basin of water and swish it
around by itself, or do you bring both hands together in the water so
that there is friction between the two to wash away the grime that
has accumulated?"
These analogies brought greater appreciation
and focus to me as an educator. First of all, education is not the
total responsibility of the classroom teacher, but a shared
obligation of many: the home, parents, siblings, community, other
families, and organizations like the school and the church. None of
us have a monopoly on knowledge, the future, or those things needed
for successful living, and we can all learn from others. These
resources, singularly and in combination, provide many educational
experiences as we expose students to life and living.
Secondly, education is a lifelong process
brought about sometimes through competition but more often through
cooperation. We must provide opportunities for collective efforts and
for teamwork, recognizing that none of us are islands in and of
ourselves, but in some way we must contribute to and receive from
those around us to insure survival.
This idea is expanded to include the concept of
service. We did not get to the position we now occupy entirely by our
own efforts. Therefore we owe someone or society in general. Often we
cannot return compensation directly to those from whom we have
received. It becomes our obligation, therefore, to be a contributor
to society generally and to individuals within our range of influence
specifically.
Many secondary schools and colleges are
requiring a service project as a graduation requirement. Our society,
to a great extent, is a consuming entity and a required service
project is often a student's first exposure to doing something for
others with no compensation other than a grateful "thank you." In my
opinion, this is an excellent way to combat selfishness and to teach
a basic lesson in generosity.
Educators in the past generation have used
catch words like individualization, individual educational program,
diagnosis and prescription to describe the ideal methodology in
dealing with students. As practitioners of the teaching art, we agree
with this personalized philosophy as it applies to individual
students or extensions of the individual classrooms. In rural Alaska,
however, it seems that we balk at making that same application to
individual schools and communities that, in reality, are as unique
from others as personalities and characteristics are in individuals.
School districts often, in their desire for standardization, treat
individual communities in a way that they never would tolerate toward
individual students.
Flexibility and capitalization on the
uniqueness of individuals are just as critical for individual
communities as they are for individual students. Just as we carefully
diagnose and prescribe separate educational programs for individuals,
we need to be sensitive to communities and the schools represented in
each of them. That diagnosis cannot be complete without an awareness
of the cultural, linguistic, economic subsistence, and emotional
characteristics which help make up the whole picture of the
community.
This knowledge makes it critical for us as
educators to be involved with the community in which we serve. We
don't have all the answers so we seek input from all elements within
the community. We must ask questions like these:
- What comprises education in this community?
What is it that the adults of this community expect children to
know?
- What are we preparing these children to
be?
- What are we preparing these children to
do?
- Are the expectations of teachers, parents,
students and community shared and communicated?
- Are the goals of the community and district
the same? Are they compatible? Where do we put our emphasis or
priority?
- How can we best use the resources at our
disposal?
- What modifications do we need to
personalize education for our clients in this
community?
- Have we examined all the details completely
so that we will have the best educational program
possible?
Not only must we ask these questions but we
must honestly evaluate the answers and information resulting from our
questioning.
Often in our examination of entire educational
needs, we find that the curriculum presented by our district just is
not compatible with our community. We see economic and subsistence
needs and practices which do not mesh with state and local
regulations. We see an emphasis on assimilation and a lack of
appreciation for non-standard lifestyles or practices. We see
children who are expected to be dropouts before they even enroll. We
see a dominant culture blatantly insisting on compliance to
unacceptable standards by the minority culture. Is it any wonder that
our minority students have a poor self-image or lack
self-esteem?
What are the answers to problems of rural,
culturally different schools and communities? The RAIIA has
thoughtfully examined these issues for three summers now and offers
many viable solutions, which if implemented in whole or in part,
would be beneficial.
Curriculum modifications which result in an
experiential, community-based approach to learning are most
desirable. We need to think universally but act locally. We must
build upon the expectations of the adults, children, and communities
we serve. We must provide opportunities for growth, but build upon
the values and culture modeled in our communities. Expectations must
be high, and high quality must be required.
The climate of our schools must demonstrate
everything desirable from our communities. The environment must be
supportive, safe, and comfortable. Students should see every adult in
the school environment as an asset, as a friend they can talk to,
question, or seek counsel from - not as answer dispensers but guides
toward self-actualization. The structure of the school calendar
should reflect the needs of the community - not vice-versa. The
school should be responsive to the needs of the community it serves,
demonstrating a real commitment to local control and positive
input.
Since the school is organized to satisfy
community needs, evidence of parental involvement should be obvious.
Parents will be involved in advisory groups and extracurricular
activites; active as teacher aides and resources for local lore and
culture and as experts within their individual vocations and
avocations. Students and teachers will be visible in homes,
businesses, and organizations within the community. All will be
members of the same team with the mutual goal of constantly providing
a positive, healthy learning environment for all participants within
the community. As a result, we will witness an increase in school
pride and student self-esteem.
All of the above are critical to the
development of ideal schools in rural Alaska. Yet perhaps more
important than any or all of the above, however, is the unselfishly
committed staff who must organize and operate the schools. Commitment
is a key concept where service is the rule rather than the exception.
The type of committed service I visualize is more closely akin to a
mission than to a job.
Teachers, administrators, and support personnel
are pleased to get a paycheck at the end of the month, but it is the
icing on the cake. The real thrill is in joy received from seeing the
spark in a child's eyes when a new idea is realized. It is in seeing
self-esteem blossom into the radiance of self-worth extended in
friendship, and lifting up one who needs a helping hand. It is in
seeing a child encourage another that you could not reach
yourself.
Teachers and administrators provide this
encouragement by structuring the environment, involving the parents
and community, modifying the curriculum to meet local needs,
exercising flexibility in scheduling, and recognizing that the same
program is not for every student, nor is the same curriculum right
for every community. By incorporating this more human element into
our schools, we place ourselves on an accessible level to students
and community and make of ourselves students. In doing this we become
more capable, competent, and confident as citizens with a special
responsibility -teaching for the betterment of our total
society in a way that proves beyond any doubt that we really
care.
Foreword
Ray Barnhardt
Part I *
Rural School Ideals
"My
Goodness, People Come and Go So Quickly Around
Here"
Lance C. Blackwood
Parental Involvement
in a Cross-Cultural Environment
Monte Boston
Teachers and
Administrators for Rural Alaska
Claudia Caffee
The Mentor Teacher
Program
Judy Charles
Building
Networks
Helen Eckelman
Ideal Curriculum and
Teaching Approaches for a School in Rural
Alaska
Teresa McConnell
Some Observations
Concerning Excellent Rural Alaskan Schools
Bob Moore
The Ideal Rural
Alaska Village School
Samuel Moses
From Then To Now:
The Value of Experiential Learning
Clara Carol Potterville
The Ideal
School
Jane Seaton
Toward an Integrated,
Nonlinear, Community-Oriented Curriculum
Unit
Mary Short
A Letter from
Idealogak, Alaska
Timothy Stathis
Preparing
Rural Students for the Future
Michael Stockburger
The Ideal
Rural School
Dawn Weyiouanna
Alternative
Approaches to the High School Curriculum
Mark J. Zintek
Part II *
Rural Curriculum Ideas
"Masking" the
Curriculum
Irene Bowie
On Punks and
Culture
Louise J. Britton
Literature to Meet
the Needs of Rural Students
Debra Buchanan
Reaching the Gifted
Student Via the Regular Classroom
Patricia S. Caldwell
Early Childhood Special
Education in Rural Alaska
Colleen Chinn
Technically
Speaking
Wayne Day
Process Learning
Through the School Newspaper
Marilyn Harmon
Glacier Bay
History: A Unit in Cultural Education
David Jaynes
Principals of
Technology
Brian Marsh
Here's Looking
at You and Whole Language
Susan Nugent
Inside, Outside and
all-Around: Learning to Read and Write
Mary L. Olsen
Science Across
the Curriculum
Alice Porter
Here's Looking at
You 2000 Workshop
Cheryl Severns
School-Based
Enterprises
Gerald Sheehan
King Island
Christmas: A Language Arts Unit
Christine Pearsall Villano
Using Student-Produced
Dialogues
Michael A. Wilson
We-Search and
Curriculum Integration in the Community
Sally Young
Artist's
Credits
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