Let's remember what education is really about

Being Frank, by Frank Ameduri

I've come to think that the U.S. public education system is like an onion -- not just because it smells bad and often makes us cry, but also because it has many layers, and the sweetest part is probably at the center, if you can find it.

When asked to list our top social priorities, most of us list education at or very near the top. Interestingly, though, if you ask 100 of us to define what public education is or should be, you'll get 130 different answers -- some of us have more than one opinion.

Here's what public education has become to many people: No Child Left Behind, standardized grade-appropriate testing, high-school graduation exams, before-school breakfast, free-lunch programs, after-school programs, Annual Yearly Progress, life-skills training, political correctness, standardized diversity, knives in schools, drugs in schools, guns in schools, police in schools -- deep breath -- curriculum realignment (based upon standardized testing requirements), censorship of classic literature, too much homework, not enough homework, in-service days, no prayer in school, too much God in school, too much sex in school, not enough sex education in school, insufficient education funds, inefficient education spending, Attention Deficit Disorder, must I go on?

Is it just me, or does none of that have anything to do with education? I guess you could say I'm no expert -- if being an expert means having an education in education.

On the other hand, a lot of us are experts of another kind. We went through school ourselves and many of us have, or have had, children in school.

When I describe my own education, none of those things listed above come to mind. I started in Catholic school, but received most of my education in public schools, including a state university.

Some of the experiences weren't so good, and sometimes the quality could have been better, but all in all, it was a good education.

Here are some of the reasons why.

In fourth grade, Mrs. Yates seemed about 125 years old. She was a tough, old Irish woman who claimed to be a teen-ager because she was a leap year baby. She valued art and literature, and we wrote short stories in class every Friday.

I wasn't a standout student in all subjects, but I enjoyed the writing, and she encouraged me to continue, giving me things to read that would help me improve my writing.

She told me I might be a good writer some day if I worked very hard at it. Some people would never be good at it, and even the most talented people had to work very hard. It was not a politically correct sort of thing to say. It was a true thing to say.

I'll never be a good mechanic, pilot or accountant. I'll never be even a passable doctor, lawyer, musician. If I work very hard, someday I might be a good writer, though.

In ninth grade Mr. Hayes was my English teacher. He was also the wrestling coach. He was a huge man with a gentle voice and an even temper. He is now an author of bilingual children's books and a professional story teller -- and a hero of mine.

Mr. Hayes encouraged creativity and risk-taking. We were once asked to recite Marc Antony's speech from "Julius Caesar." I rewrote the speech in what I thought was jive talk and recited it that way.

Another teacher might have punished me for not following instructions, but Hayes was thrilled with my bad performance and wanted to videotape it for other classes.

I don't remember if Mr. Hayes taught me to put commas in the right place, but he taught me that if I was brave, I could use language like wings. Sometimes I fall, but sometimes I see things I'd never see any other way. Thanks, Mr. Hayes.

A guidance counselor in my junior high was a word nut. Every day he'd hit me with a particularly strange word and give me some sort of prize once I returned with the definition and used it in a sentence. I don't even remember his name. I do remember what sesquipedalian and preconsonantal mean.

I guess the point is that education is what happens inside a student's head -- at school, home or anywhere else. Public education, the part that happens at school, is supposed to belong to us.

I wonder what would happen if parents and students decided what education should be.

I wonder if Marc Antony in jive or the word sesquipedalian would have helped me pass the high-school graduation exam.

I wonder what Mrs. Yates would have said when she discovered some distant bureaucrat had decided she wasn't a highly qualified teacher.

But, like I said, I'm no expert.

Frank Ameduri is a product of public book learnin'.