Near the end of November, I employed – not asked – my family
to assist with leaf raking in our backyard. We have a large pin oak that enjoys
clinging to its leaves far beyond the time that the other trees have shed
theirs. This ensures – year after year – quality family time engaged in
meaningful yard work well into December. As a kid, I remember all too well
raking leaves in our backyard, particularly an area covered by trees where no
grass even grew. I also fondly remember needing to rake and collect each and
every last leaf in the yard, no exceptions. As I was taught, so too do I teach.
So here’s how the raking played out: I announced to my three
kids that we just needed to get most of the leaves, not all. My kids were no
doubt thinking how awesome I was as a dad at this point. We then commenced to
raking, I with great fervor and determination – the kids with mild apathy and
reticence. For five or ten minutes all proceeded as raking should, leaves
piling up and the yard clearly visible again. What I soon noticed in two of my
children was an increase in the weight of the rakes to the point that holding
them and continuing to move the leaves required monumental strength, a strength
that neither of my sons apparently possessed. My teenage daughter, on the other
hand, had disappeared from raking altogether.
And then my wife entered the scene – with the leaf blower
and the hundred-foot extension cord. I continued to move those leaves into
piles with my traditional rake, which – by the way – holds an 1874 U.S. patent.
Leaf blowers have only been patented in some form since the 1950s. My sons
quickly abandoned their rakes to “help” mom with the leaf blower. Annoyance at
their behavior only increased the vigor with which I collected those leaves
with my tried-and-true rake. They should have been raking the leaves. That’s how leaves are gathered each fall and how
they have been gathered by families for countless years.
Once connected, the leaf blower exploded to life, sending
the leaves – or at least most of them – into piles that could be transferred
onto a tarp and hauled to the street for pickup. What had begun as a necessary
but arduous task was now transformed into an activity that led to my sons
physically fighting with one another for the chance to use the leaf blower.
At the time of the leaf-raking-turned-blowing, I thought
about how my sons can fight over anything and how my daughter can slip away
silently from certain chores. Many days later, while talking to a colleague at
work about innovation in the classroom, I couldn’t stop thinking about the
family leaf-raking event and how it connects to education.
When we talk about innovation in education, we talk about
how things will be done differently and how things will look different than
they currently do. But in practice, we tend to stick with the way school has
always been done, with the way it has always looked. As an instructional coach,
I hear from teachers what is not working when it comes to instruction. This is
the point where we should bring in the leaf blower, not the rake. The rake is
not a bad tool – it just might not be the most effective tool to utilize. We
want students excited about their learning, in the same way that leaf “raking”
suddenly became a desirable activity for my sons once the leaf blower made an
appearance. My wife saw a different way to rake leaves, a way that I had not
considered in my 1874 rake mindset.
There is certainly nothing fundamentally wrong with the
rake, but that doesn’t mean that it should always be used for the simple reason
that it has always been used. In education, we should also be open to different
ways of “raking,” even though those ideas may have been around for many years. The
term “innovation” is tossed around in educational discussions, and this is a
good thing. As educators, we should always be looking at ways to improve
student learning by introducing new ideas and methods, by innovating.
What I learned from the raking episode: The biggest barrier
to education is not a lack of resources and time. The biggest barrier is not
our population of students or testing or technology. The biggest barrier to
innovation is our own way of thinking, our mindset. When we acknowledge this –
as I eventually did with leaf raking – we have opened the door to looking at learning
with a new perspective. We are open to innovation.
Author’s note: My daughter was eventually located and
returned to leaf-raking duties. She was not offered the chance to use the leaf
blower. My sons continued to fight with one another, despite each being given a chance to use the leaf blower.
So very true Matt! Loved reading this and the way you connect your life to your profession!
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