one a weekday morning in 2005, university of pennsylvania psychology professor martin seligman was fortuitously double booked. his contribution to the positive psychology movement had caught the attention of dominic randolph, headmaster of one of new york city’s most prestigious private schools. it had also attracted the company of a pioneer on the other side of the educational spectrum: david levin, co-founder of KIPP charter schools, which exist to “prepare students in underserved communities for college and life” (KIPP website).

seligman combined the meetings. and just for fun, he invited his colleague christopher peterson. the two had just finished co-writing character strengths and virtues: a handbook and classification. the discussion between the four men was an explosion of creativity. randolph and levin found exactly what they didn’t know they were looking for: a breakdown of character strengths thought to produce happiness and success in a variety of cultures.

they found themselves wrestling with questions that have long confounded not just educators but anyone trying to nurture a thriving child or simply live a good life. what is good character? …which qualities matter most for a child who is trying to negotiate his way to a successful and autonomous adulthood? and are the answers to those questions the same in harlem and in riverdale (what if the secret to success is failure, paul tough, nytimes)?

the four worked together in the months that followed to develop a list of character strengths that proved to be even more related to report card grades than students’ IQs. levin points out that the list is not

a finger-wagging guilt trip about good values and appropriate behavior but [rather] a recipe for a successful and happy life (tough, NY times).

so randolph and levin, and those in their increasing realms of influence, began identifying, assessing, and inculcating the following character strengths in their students:

zest

grit

self-control

social intelligence

gratitude

optimism

curiosity

students at levin’s KIPP schools now receive character and academic report cards. newly developed assessment scales for qualities such as grit are routinely used to quantify and improve character markers of success. KIPP students are graduating from college at an increasing rate.

at randolph’s school, the emphasis on character is more subtle. he explains,

i don’t want to come up with a metric around character that could be gamed. i would hate it if that’s where we ended up (tough, NY times).

but it’s randolph’s take on character education that speaks most to me, an upper middle class parent, raising two upper middle class children, in an upper middle class environment that is all about minimizing kids’ suffering and maximizing their success.

faculty at randolph’s school relay that many of their students’ parents hold their children to high standards of performance while they protect their kids from the kinds of hardships that lead to grit, self-control, gratitude, etc. (tough, NY times). sheltered students are deprived of the kind of learning that happens through risk and failure. tough writes,

it is a central paradox of contemporary parenting… we have an acute, almost biological impulse to provide for our children, to give them everything they want and need, to protect them from dangers and discomforts both large and small. and yet we all know — on some level, at least — that what kids need more than anything is a little hardship: some challenge, some deprivation that they can overcome, even if just to prove to themselves that they can.

i’m not sure what this philosophy will look like as i try to put the proper amount of scaffolding in place around my monkey and bird, who are at once rambunctious and sensitive, privileged, and not immune to life’s limits. but perhaps my less-than-perfect parenting will prepare my kids for their less-than-perfect bosses, their less-than-perfect partners, their less-than-perfect surroundings, and their not-yet-realized dreams. what characteristics lead to a successful and happy life? if the answer to this question is the same in harlem and in riverdale, maybe it is the same for my children as it is for me.

about a year ago, the MakeShift revolution was born of equal parts anxiety and creativity. anxiety and creativity are a likely pairing in most cases of  forward progress, no  matter how big or small. anxiety about the way things are leads to the creative resolve to make things new.

but on the subject of anxiety, perfect madness author judith warner suggests that many mothers are unwilling to be honest with ourselves and others about the sources of this natural maternal emotion:

“basically, it is acceptable to air all your dirty laundry about yourself, your husband, or your children but it is not acceptable to look beyond your family to suggest that there is something wrong with the world. it is not permissible to talk about policy, or economics, or culture… and this is because, i think, policy, economics, and culture are perceived as being things that we have no control over…. and so we fixate on those things we feel we can control — how our child holds a pencil, whether or not she eats gluten — rather than worry about what we can’t control: our economic futures, kids’ education, health care costs, whether or not we’ll ever be able to afford to retire….

the perversity in all this, of course, is that what we’re trying to control is precisely what one cannot control; you can’t shape and perfect human beings, pre-program and prepare them along the way. but you can — ostensibly — exert some control over what kind of society you live in…. you ostensibly have the power, en masse, to set the national agenda” (209). 

i am often guilty of shying away from “setting the national agenda” in favor of setting our family agenda. but today’s post is a venture into a space where the personal and political are intertwined: the issue of educating the children of memphis and shelby county. below is an interview with gretchen stroud, a representative of friends united for school equality (FUSE). FUSE is a group of parents and grassroots activists in favor of the proposed merger of local city and county school systems. read below for a beautiful example of how the collective forces of parental anxiety and creativity are moving beyond the home and into the broken world.  

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mary allison: please introduce yourself and let readers know why are you in favor of the consolidation of shelby county and memphis city schools.

gretchen: I am the parent of an Memphis City Schools (MCS) student in first grade. We have had a wonderful experience with MCS so far and are very happy with his school. However, I support consolidation for a few key reasons:

1. If Shelby County Schools (SCS) were to obtain the special school district status (with taxing authority) pursued by its school board president David Pickler, this would cut funding for MCS and do away with the equitable per student funding that currently comes from Shelby County. In this scenario, Memphis would be responsible for educating approximately 70% of the county’s children with only 40% of the tax revenues. Taxes in Memphis would have to rise substantially to make up the difference.
2. Although the money issue is concerning, the major reason I support the consolidation is that you cannot have “separate but equal” school systems, by law. We are creating a widening division between those students who come from middle and upper class families and those at the lowest end of the economic spectrum. This is immoral, unethical and will ultimately create great harm to Memphis and all the surrounding towns and cities who depend on Memphis as the anchor for our mid-south cultural and economic sustainability. Every single child has the potential to learn, and I can tell you from watching the children in my son’s school that every one of them wants to learn. It is up to the adults to figure out how to do that fairly and equally for all.

mary allison: what is FUSE?

gretchen: FUSE stands for Friends United for School Equality. We are a group of Shelby County residents (which means, of course, those living in Memphis and in the suburbs – we are ALL Shelby County) who believe that for our county to remain viable and competitive in the 21st century we must work together as one to provide quality education to ALL of the children in Shelby County.

mary allison: how did FUSE start? please describe how the idea emerged and how so many mid-south parents became organized and mobilized so quickly under the umbrella of FUSE:

gretchen: Well, it started as a group of MCS Optional School parents who came together on Facebook after Mr. Pickler started trying to scare people by threatening the Optional program. I think that he was hoping that our fear of losing this program would drive us to vote against the merger. However, he definitely underestimated us. We came together to start talking about consolidation and quickly realized that this isn’t just about our kids, it is about ALL of the kids in Shelby County. Every single one of them deserves a great education – not just the ones we are raising. And we talked about how we wanted to reach out to other parents from the county schools because we felt that there were more people like us out there who are committed to the concept that you cannot raise your children in a bubble of privilege. What is good for my child should be good for ALL children, and if it isn’t good for all children then it really isn’t good for my own child in the long run either. I think we have grown so quickly because our group is devoted to fostering kind, honest, and real conversation among parents and other “regular people.”

mary allison: what are some of the reasons that fuel opposition to school consolidation, and what do you to say to parents who are not in favor of merging?

gretchen: Fear and lack of truth. Honestly, people think that MCS are pits of danger and despair. I partly blame the media because they will run a hundred stories about teen pregnancy, a fight at a school, and an underperforming principal. But, I didn’t see a single mid-south news organization cover the news this summer when Memphis was named one of the 21 “overachieving” urban school districts based on a large study of urban school districts in the US. Not just one of the 21, but one of the top five! That is great news for Memphis, and NO ONE reported it. The report can be found in this Education Week article. 

We had a group of Germantown moms send us a list of questions that they honestly wanted to ask (but were a little embarrassed and afraid to, I think). They wanted to know if our elementary kids in MCS have art or music or libraries. I was blown away! But, the sad fact is that the myths and stereotypes people have been hearing about MCS for years are in many cases their only exposure to the city school system. We were able to answer those questions in a non-threatening manner that encouraged further dialog. And, in case your readers are wondering, yes, MCS elementary students have art, Orff music, P.E., and library every week. And most elementary schools also offer foreign languages starting in first grade. In addition, the gifted program in MCS begins in kindergarten. They start instruments in fourth grade too.

What I say to parents who oppose the merger is, come and see what MCS is really about. Our kids are great kids who want to learn, just like yours do. We have wonderful, hard-working teachers, just like you do. Great things happen in Memphis City Schools every single day. Beyond that, I would say consolidation is the RIGHT thing to do. Shelby County cannot survive with this crazy  us vs. them mentality. And, you aren’t creating the kind of place where your children will want to live when they grow up if the city that is the keystone of this entire mid-south area is left to decay and decline because we cannot come together as one community.

mary allison: what actions do members of FUSE take to affect change?

gretchen: We have some really great members! We write letters to the newspapers, and we are working with Stand for Children to host educational events for the community about the pros and cons of consolidation (although I should note that FUSE supports the consolidation and Stand is non-partisan on this issue). We had a very active email campaign to city council last week ahead of their vote. We contact our state legislature and the governor to try to give Memphis a voice in this process. We educate others about what consolidation could look like. We reach out to parents across the county to start the conversation now about what we parents want a unified school district to offer. Do we want smaller sub-districts? Do we want magnet schools? Do we want smaller class sizes? Do we want every child to get foreign language instruction starting in first grade? What do we think our children need to be competitive in the 21st century? I’m not saying that I have a position on all of these issues, but so far no one is asking parents what WE want in a new, unified district. And they should be asking.

mary allison: could you describe in layman’s terms the timeline and political process that is currently structuring the consolidation decision?

gretchen: Ha, ha, ha!  If I could do that, I’d be rich!  As of this moment, the city council has accepted the charter surrender, but Memphians STILL need to vote in the referendum (early voting begins Feb. 16). Shelby County Schools has filed a federal lawsuit against a whole lot of people, including (but not limited to) MCS, Memphis City Council, US Dept of Education, Education Secretary Arne Duncan, US Dept of Justice, Attorney General Eric Holder, Tennessee Department of Education, Education Commissioner Patrick Smith (and others). And, that is just the beginning.

But, and this is important, it is time NOW for all of us in Shelby County to seriously contemplate whether we want this issue tied up in federal courts for the next five to ten years. Who does that serve? Certainly not the children. It really just serves our fear and our prejudices. And, if we want to come together and try to figure out the best way to educate all of the children in this community in the best way possible, then we need to tell our elected officials that we want to come together and fix this now.

mary allison: how might others who are interested in FUSE become involved in your work?

gretchen: First, let me say that we would love to have anyone join us who is interested.  You can find us at www.fuseshelby.org or on Facebook.

[source info for perfect madness is located on the bibliography page, which is listed on the sidebar to your right.]

[this is the second in a series of guest posts written by jennifer harrison, who was perhaps the only other person in my high school english classes who joined me in gleeful celebration when called up on to diagram sentences. jennifer’s posts will highlight how her vocation as an elementary school teacher informs her parenting, and vice-versa. her bio is located at the conclusion of this post.] 

Milestones in a school year inspire my inner mathematician to make an appearance. As I wrap up my fall parent-teacher conferences, I think back to the number of conferences that I have conducted as the teacher in the parent-teacher duo. I imagine that the number is now close to 500, which is a fairly remarkable number given that I so clearly remember my very first parent teacher conference. I was a young, new teacher, spruced up in a carefully chosen outfit and neatly applied makeup that I hoped would give me more authority than my 21 years commanded.

image from reason.com

Things have changed a great deal since those early days of my career, and I naturally see that each of these conferences is much more than an opportunity to put my best sartorial foot forward. These meetings, while not without significant amounts of preparation and planning, are nonetheless a welcome respite from parents’ and teachers’ hectic day-to-day schedules, schedules that hardly afford us the opportunity to sit down as a team and talk about the accomplishments and the needs of young children. Conferences are opportunities for me to connect and collaborate with my students’ first and most important teachers.  

I love watching parents’ faces as I discuss their child. I love it when they lean in a little closer to listen carefully to my description of the child, whom they love so much. It is so exciting to watch their eyes twinkle as I share a funny anecdote about their child or reveal a significant accomplishment or contribution; and I delight in seeing them emphatically nod in agreement as I outline what I believe to be their child’s special and unique talents.

Conversely, I feel rushes of compassion and sympathy when conversations turn toward challenges and frustrations in the classroom. I see that parents so dearly want their children to succeed. This is a goal that I share, one that propels me to communicate in a way that inspires positive action and manageable objectives.

My daughter, Elizabeth, is only 16 months old, so I am not quite at the point where I’ll put on the parent hat during parent-teacher conference time. Yet I often wonder what Elizabeth’s teachers will share with my husband and me as our daughter grows from a toddler to a child to a young woman. What personality traits will emerge as she grows up and learns more about the world around her? Will her unyielding determination to figure out how those stacking cups work turn into a love of geometry? Does the way in which she babbles as she flips the pages of her books mean that we will have an eager, voracious reader on our hands? Is her sunny greeting of “hi, hi” to everyone she meets indicative of a friendly, engaging girl? Is her high-pitched, frustrated wail of toddler-hood a harbinger of a stubborn streak when things don’t go her way?

What will Elizabeth’s teachers say to my husband and me that will make our eyes twinkle, that will prompt us to lean in a little closer?  

 jennifer harrison earned her bachelors and masters degrees at vanderbilt and has taught in public and private schools since 1999. she currently enjoys chicago city life with her ER nurse husband, 16-month-old daughter elizabeth, and dog rowdy. when jennifer is not parenting or teaching, she loves to read, take pictures, travel, and search for the perfect latte.

first grade, for me, was when the curriculum ceased to be play-based. the active life of preschool and kindergarten, with all of its hiding and seeking and cooking and dancing, became fodder for my daydreams as i plugged away at my little wooden first grade desk at what was unabashedly called “seatwork.” i resisted this stationary kind of learning so much that i almost failed the first grade, but in the face of at least eleven more years of school, i learned to expand my knowledge within the confines of the system. unknowingly, i separated the parts of me that were once beautifully integrated in childhood: mental and physical exercise. there were spelling tests and there was recess. there was long division, and there was sports practice. there was contemporary theology and there was jogging. as i was being created into a contributing member of society, there was evening, and there was morning for approximately 4,140 days.

as i was riding my bicycle on the greenline yesterday with the bird in tow, i lapsed into the guilty reflection that is common to upper middle class mothers. i calculated how many days i have spent formally acquiring knowledge in educational settings, and i came up with the above number. then i commenced to worry that “my brain is turning to mush.” i thought of my diplomas that are not framed in an office but are still tucked away in their little black folders between photo albums of my kids’ first years and behind a colorful butcher paper masterpiece that the monkey created at school. i thought of the staggering amount of guilt that is experienced as women like me, who have spent the majority of our lives doing “seatwork,” are plunged into the unfamiliar world of mothering, where equations and essays are irrelevant. i started plotting my next vocational move once the kids are in school, work that would justify my masters degree and present a reason to frame those diplomas. and then i remembered another stark contrast between life in educational systems and life as a mostly stay-at-home-mom: the former is future-oriented by design. the latter can only be fully embraced by living in the present.

i went on like this for an hour — enough time for the bird and me to ride to shelby farms and back into town. i reflected on the way that my life now involves so much physical activity — schlepping kids, groceries, and laundry, pushing the steam mop, averting disasters, rushing to disentangle the climbing bird from all manor of hanging garage tools. the seatwork smarty pants in me unleashed more judgement. “what a waste,” she said.

and then, miraculously, i remembered who i was in the first place, before the confines of first grade hit, before i spent 4,140 days compartmentalizing mental and physical excercise. i am someone who loves a play-based curriculum and an integrated life. and that is precisely what i’ve got right now.

so as the bird and i finished up our bike ride and went on to schlepp the week’s groceries, i laid the guilt to rest. perhaps mothering young children is a chance to return to a more natural state of being, a time to collect all of the scattered parts of me and put them back together.

[this is the first in a series of guest posts written by jennifer harrison, who was perhaps the only other person in my high school english classes who joined me in gleeful celebration when called up on to diagram sentences. jennifer’s posts will highlight how her vocation as an elementary school teacher informs her parenting, and vice-versa. her bio is located at the conclusion of her wise words.] 

I’m not a math person but I have recently been throwing together some numbers. The upcoming school year marks my tenth as a classroom teacher. Each year, I’ve taught about 20 kids. This means that in all, I’ve worked with roughly 200 students, not to mention about 400 parents. So, long before I began raising my own daughter, Elizabeth, I was introduced to the wonderful, complicated, emotional, and consuming business of parenting.

While I will begin this school year and its requisite parent partnerships with a good chunk of experience under my belt, I nonetheless approach my tenth class with new eyes: the eyes of a new mother, who fiercely loves her daughter and only wants the best for her. I know that each first grade parent I will meet next week was once just like I am now: constantly chasing after a toddler; looking at a little face and wondering what kind of person this small being will become; and hoping that a cheerful, babbling child will always know a happy and abundant life.

Throughout my years as a teacher, I have come to believe that there is one essential truth about parenting. All parents, no matter whether they are overbearing, laid-back, or somewhere in between, absolutely love their children. The way in which this love manifests itself is wildly different from parent to parent. Some parents wring their hands in fretful anxiety about what I, as a teacher, know is a minor bump in the road (if it’s even a bump at all!). Others celebrate every victory and milestone with endless flashes of the camera and small notes in lunchboxes. Still others occupy themselves with very demanding careers so that they can provide their children with a vast array of creature comforts and material things. Regardless of how hands-on or hands-off a parent may appear to be, their common fuel is their deep and abiding love of sons and daughters.

” Too often, we critically declare that this mother works too much, this father hovers around the school too frequently, or this couple places too many demands on their child.”

I think it is unfortunately too easy for so many of us — teachers, fellow parents, and the casual observers of society — to quickly, harshly judge parents. Too often, we critically declare that this mother works too much, this father hovers around the school too frequently, or this couple places too many demands on their child. It helps to remember that all of those parents once held a moments-old newborn in their arms. They have all become enraptured, as I have, with the enormity and the wonder of a life that is, as a friend so wisely put it, pure potential. That moment is the tie that binds us all together as parents. It is a tie that I now share with the 36 parents who will soon receive a letter from me in the mail. I now understand the eyes with which those parents will read that letter. This fresh perspective has renewed my commitment to my career, and it has reminded me of all that I hope Elizabeth and I will grow to be as mother and daughter.

jennifer harrison earned her bachelors and masters degrees at vanderbilt and has taught in public and private schools since 1999. she currently enjoys chicago city life with her ER nurse husband, 13-month-old daughter elizabeth, and dog rowdy. when jennifer is not parenting or teaching, she enjoys reading, photography, travel, and the quest for the perfect latte.