AP Success - AP English Language: The Trump Card of Failure

As I teach, I learn a lot about our schools. Early in each session I ask my students to write about an unpleasant experience they had in school. No writers’ block here! “I wish someone would have had made me stop doing drugs and made me study.” “I liked to party and no one seemed to care.” “I was a good kid and didn’t cause any trouble, so they just passed me along even though I didn’t read and couldn’t write.” And so on. I am your basic do-gooder, and prior to teaching this class I blamed the poor academic skills our kids have today on drugs, divorce and other impediments to concentration necessary for doing well in school. But, as I rediscover each time I walk into the classroom, before a teacher can expect students to concentrate, he has to get their attention, no matter what distractions may be at hand. There are many ways to do this, and they have much to do with teaching style. However, if style alone won’t do it, there is another way to show who holds the winning hand in the classroom. That is to reveal the trump card of failure. I will never forget a teacher who played that card to get the attention of one of my children. Our youngest, a world class charmer, did little to develop his intellectual talents but always got by. Until Mrs. Stifter. Our son was a high-school senior when he had her for English. “He sits in the back of the room talking to his friends,” she told me. “Why don’t you move him to the front row?” I urged, believing the embarrassment would get him to settle down. Mrs. Stifter looked at me steely-eyed over her glasses.”I don’t move seniors,” she said. “I flunk them.” I was flustered. Our son’s academic life flashed before my eyes. No teacher had ever threatened him with that before. I regained my composure and managed to say that I thought she was right. By the time I got home I was feeling pretty good about this. It was a radical approach for these times, but, well, why not? “She’s going to flunk you,” I told my son. I did not discuss it any further. Suddenly English became a priority in his life. He finished out the semester with an A. I know one example doesn’t make a case, but at night I see a parade of students who are angry and resentful for having been passed along until they could no longer even pretend to keep up. Of average intelligence or better, they eventually quit school, concluding they were too dumb to finish. “I should have been held back,” is a comment I hear frequently. Even sadder are those students who are highschool graduates who say to me after a few weeks of class, “I don’t know how I ever got a high-school diploma.” Passing students who have not mastered the work cheats them and the employers who expect graduates to have basic skills. We excuse this dishonest behavior by saying kids can’t learn if they come from terrible environments. No one seems to stop to think that—no matter what environments they come from—most kids don’t put school first on their list unless they perceive something is at stake. They’d rather be sailing…. Flunking as a regular policy has just as much merit today as it did two generations ago. We must review the threat of flunking and see it as it really is—a positive teaching tool. It is an expression of confidence by both teachers and parents that the students have the ability to learn the material presented to them. However, making it work again would take a dedicated, caring conspiracy between teachers and parents. It would mean facing the tough reality that passing kids who haven’t learned the material—while it might save them grief for the short term—dooms them to longterm illiteracy.