The Calhoun School, where I served as Head for 19 years, recently announced that four wonderful associate teachers - Jean, Yvonne, Yadi and Julie - are leaving after decades of service. This announcement prompted thoughts about the critical role such teachers play in the lives of children everywhere.
During my tenure, two of these teachers were awarded the annual prize given to a faculty member who most richly represents the progressive values implicit and explicit in Calhoun’s mission. Years ago we created a special category for associate teachers, who may not have traditional credentials, but are deeply valued members of the professional community.
Such teachers are undervalued and underpaid in most public and private schools, often described as paraprofessionals, a slightly demeaning categorization that underestimates the profound impact they have on children. Nationwide, the compensation for these teachers averages $12-15 per hour - less than Amazon pays for warehouse workers, not to diminish their dignity or importance either.
I have long argued, with abundant evidence, that early childhood education is more important than the later years, which receive the lion’s share of attention. Much of the enduring and durable benefit of early education derives from relationships between loving adults and the children in their care.
As with the other principles of progressive education, the power of relationships in learning is affirmed by theory, observation and, especially, in recent decades, a substantial and growing body of research.
Sondra Birch and Gary Ladd at the University of Illinois make a compelling case in their Journal of School Psychology article titled, The Teacher-Child Relationship and Children’s Early School Adjustment. Their research was extensive and looked at many dimensions of school performance and its correlation with positive, intimate relationships between children and teachers. The details are arcane and unnecessary for the purpose of this post, but they conclude their study: “ . . . the quality of children’s teacher-child relationships may have far-reaching significance in terms of the various educational trajectories that children follow throughout their schooling experience.”
This inarguable truth makes current trends in public education nonsensical. Economies of scale championed by neoconservative reformers assume that class size doesn’t matter. An industrial approach to education persists for political, not educational, reasons. Like Ford Motor Company assembly lines that inspired the “factory” iteration of public schools a century ago, this mechanistic way of looking at schools in the 21st century has its own notion of automation: standardize the curriculum, standardize the lesson plans and materials, standardize the assessments, and the system will operate quite well with minimal staffing.
If this way of education had merit, the reformers would be right. Instruction delivered directly from a syllabus, poured directly into little heads, will work equally well with a classroom of 15 or 40.
Technology proponents, who love the scalability offered by online programs, most enthusiastically embrace the modern iteration of the factory model. Not only is lean staffing possible, now some technocrats believe there is no real need for classrooms either. Among the collateral damages the pandemic caused in education, remote “learning” may be the most persistent and pernicious. Many school systems, including New York City, intend to continue some iteration of online learning.
Public schools, particularly in less advantaged communities, were underfunded before the pandemic. Now, politicians and bureaucrats in cash-strapped cities and towns will inevitably succumb to the pressure for the fiscal efficiencies of larger classes and more online education. When teacher and student relationships are sacrificed in the service of a cheaper factory model, the results are training, not education.
Back to Jean, Yvonne, Yadi and Julie . . .
In each of my 19 years I met individually for an hour or two with each 11th grader. These conversations were wide-ranging, often surprisingly intimate, and a great privilege for me. During these conversations the students reflected on the people and experiences that affected them most profoundly. I was not surprised to hear frequent recollections of affection and respect for these often under-appreciated members of the early childhood faculty.
Close relationships are the medium in which learning best thrives. This is true throughout a student’s school experience, but absolutely crucial in the early years. Associate and assistant teachers everywhere are providing this nurturing environment and setting the trajectory for millions of children.
Every school has women and men who do this joyful work with limited rewards and recognition.
They are the unsung heroes of education and we should sing their praises - and pay them more.
We were just talking this week how Evie, Finn and Madison have such wonderful memories of Little Calhoun, and especially from when they were in the Threes with Meena, Julie, Diane and Yadi, who recently retired. They learned so much, but especially they felt they were loved, they, we, count ourselves lucky to have been part of the Calhoun community. So many names come to mind, it was all such a wonderful experience over the years and to watch them grow and cross hallways and move up. Every time we are back in New York we visit and say hi to those who are still there, but especially we remember those happy days and where lies the foundation of their (progressive) education. A year from now Evie will have graduated with a dual degree from Berkeley and Sciences Po, Finn started university this year and Madison is about to start the IB Diploma Program (both in Amsterdam, since we made the shift from near Amsterdam Avenue to -near- Amsterdam), but the foundation for their education lies on West 74th street between Amsterdam and Columbus. Thank you for choosing such wonderful teachers, and all the best to Jean, Yvonne, Yadi and Julie!