When I was in junior high, there were two math classes. The “A” class was for kids who didn’t do well in math and the “B” class was for those that excelled. The school thought that by calling the lesser-skilled kids the “A” class, they’d be fooled into not feeling bad because they weren’t one of the smarter kids. After all, “A” had to be better than “B”. Right?
They didn’t fool anybody. Of course, every kid immediately saw through the little ruse designed to make them feel better about not understanding math.
By the time kids get into junior high, they know where they fall in the academic pecking order. They might not understand algebra, but that doesn’t mean they’re stupid. So, they understood right away that “A” wasn’t as good as “B”. And, they understood that the teachers thought they were too dumb to figure that out.
The goal was to let the advanced kids advance without making the other kids feel too bad. It didn’t work.
The education system in America cares more about student’s feelings than it does teaching them…you know…actual stuff. Schools have continuously lowered the bar so that little Tommy or Sally can feel good about themselves while not actually learning anything useful.
The State of Virginia has taken that insanity to a whole new level. They’ve eliminated advanced math classes for grades 10 and under to allow students a chance to develop their “math identity”. All students from grade 10 on down will be required to take the same courses, regardless of individual students’ proficiency in math.
So, instead of figuring out a way to help the struggling kids understand, their plan is to just dumb down the curriculum so that everybody gets a gold star, and nobody’s feelings get hurt.
This program is mandatory across the entire state of Virginia. Though schools do have some leeway.
“Districts can select more inclusive math textbooks that speak to a greater array of student experiences,” and teachers can foster classrooms “structured to allow for debate amongst students.”
Wow. Just….wow.
I’d like to suggest a word problem for their “math inclusive textbook”:
“Whitey has $150 and wants to score. Tyrone is selling weed at $1 per gram, horse at $5 per gram, coke at $10 per gram and meth at $25 per gram. If the cracker buys three grazzles of ice, four yams and four jeezies, how many $5 lewinskys can he get with his remaining money.”
See? That not only makes kids feel warm and fuzzy about being able to tie their “math identity” to a real-life experience, it’s also practical. My word problem would eliminate the “what will we ever use this for in real life” question that all math teachers get.
This also meets the requirement to provide an atmosphere that encourages debate in a math class:
“Man dog, whitey would never buy 3 grams of meth at $25! That’s fucked up. My cousin outside the 7-Eleven on Main street sells it for $15 or 3 for $40. No, the cracker would for real max on the coke which is a sweal at $10.”
It’s hard to argue with that.
And yet, I will.
The education system should be helping each kid reach their fullest potential. Whatever that potential may be. The kids who can excel should be given every opportunity to do so. The kids who can’t handle calculus, geometry or algebra, should be taught practical math skills. Yes, that means that some kids are going to do better than others, but that’s how life works.
One plus one will always equal two. That’s not up for debate. Just like “there’s no crying in baseball”, there’s no debate in math class. At least, there shouldn’t be.
If you put kids of all levels in the same class, some kids are going to do great. And, unless you make the curriculum brain-dead simple, some kids are still going to struggle. And the struggling kids are still going to feel bad.
We should be challenging kids to do their best. But we’re not. Instead of raising the bar, the education system has been reduced to a point where mediocrity is mandated, and no one is allowed to excel.
Note:
In case anyone is interested, the correct answer is: After his score, whitey will be able to buy six j bizzles, and still have an ace in his pocket.
