The Importance of Questions
In education, we sadly seem more focused on students getting the right answer than we are in helping students ask the right questions. Just think about all the statewide standardized testing where one answer is right (supposedly). Answers: those are what matter and those are what we use to make data informed decisions.
And, we fail to acknowledge sufficiently that one of the gifts an educator can give to students is helping them learn to ask really good and hard questions. And, we can’t be afraid of questions, even difficult ones. We have to ask them of ourselves and others. And that applies to situations far beyond educational institutions.
It may be for these just articulated reasons that one of the most influential books I have ever read is James Ryan’s Wait What and Life’s Other Essential Questions.
This book informs what I do, what I ask, how I navigate, how I view the world. That’s one powerful book and I don’t get royalties.
Are We Asking the Right Questions about Violence and School Shootings?
The simple answer is no. I think we are asking the wrong questions if we are concerned about stopping school violence and mass shootings. Let me unwrap this statement.
The approach of a host of legislators has been characterized as “nihilistic” — in others words (as I understand it), they are just punting and taking no specific stance and are throwing up their arms into the air. They are saying: Just a problem. Just criminals. Nothing we can do now.” I am not sure that is what is meant by nihilism historically or even now but it is the vogue term of art for how folks in power are responding to the latest shooting. See the below link:
https://www.bostonglobe.com/2023/03/29/nation/after-another-school-shooting-nihilism-begins-set/
I, along with many many folks within and outside education, have been deeply concerned about the rise in school shootings in 2023. I have been concerned about violence — broadly defined. But, I don’t think giving up or giving in or shrugging our collective shoulders in disbelief are the answers.
Some have called for legislative change, cautious of the Second Amendment. Some have organized protests. Some have talked a lot about the US culture versus that of other nations with less violence and fewer shootings. I have talked about developing less deadly ammunition. (We know how to do the opposite) I have considered why we need and allow certain types of weapons in our streets — assault rifles for example. I have talked about gun safety education. I think mental health is a contributory factor, more correctly stated, the lack of mental wellness.
It seems to me we do more to enable people to get a driver’s license than we do to get weapons. And. make no mistake about it: cars (like weapons) are dangerous to the driver and to others in the same car or other cars to standing or walking on crosswalks and sidewalks. Just read Rising in the Mourning. It will tear your heart apart.
Recent Sets of Questions in Different Contexts
Why are we not asking students how they feel after all these swatting episodes and the accompanying lock downs? Why are we not processing the fear many students and educators near and far from the incidents have, whether from drills or actual shootings? And yes, gun violence is the leading cause of death in children but most of the deaths take place OUTSIDE of school, often in homes and neighborhoods.
An amazing kindergarten teacher is asking her students today, prompted by a drill for severe weather that took place yesterday and a student’s response, how they felt about the event. She is asking: How did it make you feel? Did it remind you of anything/ Can you share whether you are still thinking about the drill now?
I am visiting a campus soon that has had its share of traumatic events on or close to campus (from sexual harassment to deaths to fires to stabbings). And, in that context, I prepared a set of questions for the reception for faculty. Sure, we could just do wine and hors d’oeuvres but I liked the idea of posing important questions and I will answer one. Call it role modeling. And the questions will be available for faculty folks to take with them, so they can reflect after the event. And they can both ask the questions of others and ponder the questions (and answers) themselves.
Here’s one of the questions. Exercising self-care is not selfish. Why is that a true statement (assuming it is for you) and why it is so difficult for many of us in the caregiving fields to deploy self-care?
If you want a set of the questions, just ask. I will send them to you via email. For real.
Now, it is in the context of all of the above that I read a really smart, thoughtful opinion piece titled (with a question) appearing in the NYTimes by Esau McCaulley: How Can We Be a Country That Does This to Our Children. The piece is dated March 26, 2023.
I was particularly struck by the following paragraph in this Opinion and I want to ask these questions in anticipation of your reading the paragraph: Can we begin to ask the right questions, the hard questions, the probing and processing questions that enable us to start on a pathway for change? James Ryan has a question that fits right in here: Can’t we at least agree that — — — — -? My “that….” is: Can we at least agree that too many children are dying from guns and we can no longer sit back and bemoan these occurrences? And finally, can’t we have different metrics for measuring success in a number of arenas, of which safety is but one?
And now the quote:
There are many ways to judge the success or failure of a country. We can look at its economy, the strength of its military or the quality of its education. We can examine the soundness of our bridges or the smoothness of our highways. But what if we used a different standard? We should judge a nation by one simple metric: the number of weeping parents it allows, the small coffins it tolerates.
I might quibble with the word “parents” and substitute caregivers. I might suggest that other metrics are wrong and surely we need more than one by which to judge an entire nation (including how we treat our citizenry and our degree of liberty from tyrants and oppression). But the question posed above is a key one and a troubling one.
Time for all of us to ask way better questions. We can begin today, right?
Special thank you to SM, PN, ET, JL, ED, AF, BR and JS. Your ideas and conversations helped me immeasurably.
In education, we sadly seem more focused on students getting the right answer than we are in helping students ask the right questions. Just think about all the statewide standardized testing where one answer is right (supposedly). Answers: those are what matter and those are what we use to make data informed decisions.
And, we fail to acknowledge sufficiently that one of the gifts an educator can give to students is helping them learn to ask really good and hard questions. And, we can’t be afraid of questions, even difficult ones. We have to ask them of ourselves and others. And that applies to situations far beyond educational institutions.
It may be for these just articulated reasons that one of the most influential books I have ever read is James Ryan’s Wait What and Life’s Other Essential Questions.
This book informs what I do, what I ask, how I navigate, how I view the world. That’s one powerful book and I don’t get royalties.
Are We Asking the Right Questions about Violence and School Shootings?
The simple answer is no. I think we are asking the wrong questions if we are concerned about stopping school violence and mass shootings. Let me unwrap this statement.
The approach of a host of legislators has been characterized as “nihilistic” — in others words (as I understand it), they are just punting and taking no specific stance and are throwing up their arms into the air. They are saying: Just a problem. Just criminals. Nothing we can do now.” I am not sure that is what is meant by nihilism historically or even now but it is the vogue term of art for how folks in power are responding to the latest shooting. See the below link:
https://www.bostonglobe.com/2023/03/29/nation/after-another-school-shooting-nihilism-begins-set/
I, along with many many folks within and outside education, have been deeply concerned about the rise in school shootings in 2023. I have been concerned about violence — broadly defined. But, I don’t think giving up or giving in or shrugging our collective shoulders in disbelief are the answers.
Some have called for legislative change, cautious of the Second Amendment. Some have organized protests. Some have talked a lot about the US culture versus that of other nations with less violence and fewer shootings. I have talked about developing less deadly ammunition. (We know how to do the opposite) I have considered why we need and allow certain types of weapons in our streets — assault rifles for example. I have talked about gun safety education. I think mental health is a contributory factor, more correctly stated, the lack of mental wellness.
It seems to me we do more to enable people to get a driver’s license than we do to get weapons. And. make no mistake about it: cars (like weapons) are dangerous to the driver and to others in the same car or other cars to standing or walking on crosswalks and sidewalks. Just read Rising in the Mourning. It will tear your heart apart.
Recent Sets of Questions in Different Contexts
Why are we not asking students how they feel after all these swatting episodes and the accompanying lock downs? Why are we not processing the fear many students and educators near and far from the incidents have, whether from drills or actual shootings? And yes, gun violence is the leading cause of death in children but most of the deaths take place OUTSIDE of school, often in homes and neighborhoods.
An amazing kindergarten teacher is asking her students today, prompted by a drill for severe weather that took place yesterday and a student’s response, how they felt about the event. She is asking: How did it make you feel? Did it remind you of anything/ Can you share whether you are still thinking about the drill now?
I am visiting a campus soon that has had its share of traumatic events on or close to campus (from sexual harassment to deaths to fires to stabbings). And, in that context, I prepared a set of questions for the reception for faculty. Sure, we could just do wine and hors d’oeuvres but I liked the idea of posing important questions and I will answer one. Call it role modeling. And the questions will be available for faculty folks to take with them, so they can reflect after the event. And they can both ask the questions of others and ponder the questions (and answers) themselves.
Here’s one of the questions. Exercising self-care is not selfish. Why is that a true statement (assuming it is for you) and why it is so difficult for many of us in the caregiving fields to deploy self-care?
If you want a set of the questions, just ask. I will send them to you via email. For real.
Now, it is in the context of all of the above that I read a really smart, thoughtful opinion piece titled (with a question) appearing in the NYTimes by Esau McCaulley: How Can We Be a Country That Does This to Our Children. The piece is dated March 26, 2023.
I was particularly struck by the following paragraph in this Opinion and I want to ask these questions in anticipation of your reading the paragraph: Can we begin to ask the right questions, the hard questions, the probing and processing questions that enable us to start on a pathway for change? James Ryan has a question that fits right in here: Can’t we at least agree that — — — — -? My “that….” is: Can we at least agree that too many children are dying from guns and we can no longer sit back and bemoan these occurrences? And finally, can’t we have different metrics for measuring success in a number of arenas, of which safety is but one?
And now the quote:
There are many ways to judge the success or failure of a country. We can look at its economy, the strength of its military or the quality of its education. We can examine the soundness of our bridges or the smoothness of our highways. But what if we used a different standard? We should judge a nation by one simple metric: the number of weeping parents it allows, the small coffins it tolerates.
I might quibble with the word “parents” and substitute caregivers. I might suggest that other metrics are wrong and surely we need more than one by which to judge an entire nation (including how we treat our citizenry and our degree of liberty from tyrants and oppression). But the question posed above is a key one and a troubling one.
Time for all of us to ask way better questions. We can begin today, right?
Special thank you to SM, PN, ET, JL, ED, AF, BR and JS. Your ideas and conversations helped me immeasurably.