In my old neighborhood, I walked past a little charter school every day on my way to the train. It was housed in the first and second floors of a “nice” apartment building (there were balconies but also a colony of feral cats around the back) and had large graphics featuring smiling students on the windows. Sometimes I’d see classes in progress through the windows on my walk, and I wondered what it was like in there.
My understanding of charter schools at the time was largely based on what I had heard on the news: stories of frauds and failures. I knew someone could found a charter school, reap the vouchers, and then invest nothing in the school, leading to its inevitable closure. The founder keeps the money, and the students and teachers are left without resources and without a school. I had read stories of teachers showing up to the school building only to find a sign on the door informing them they were no longer employed because the school no longer existed. But, I think walking past the little charter school pulled the issue to the front of my mind a little more and I spent some effort seeking out information on why and how charter schools work.
Now I understand charter schools are established to provide an alternative to public schools, and often focus on specific specialties or needs in the community. Though there’s little difference in student achievement when comparing charters and public schools (TS&S Ch. 5 p. 158), charter schools provide an opportunity to explore and implement curricula outside of the state and local regulations. Charter schools also provide opportunities for students to potentially find an environment more conducive to their learning style than might be available in public schools.
However, my feelings about charter schools are still mixed. Relaxed regulations can be helpful in curriculum design and specialization, but can also be taken advantage of in ways that harm students and teachers. Vouchers turn students into dollars instead of learners. Students and parents may need to commute longer, or leave their communities entirely, to get to a chosen charter school. I’m interested to see how charter schools develop over the next decade, and how the impact of these schools ripples out into the larger education structure of the country.
In Italy, far away from US charter schools, Reggio Emilia teachers use time, space, and listening to facilitate exploration for their students. I’m interested in the element of listening the most. In Reggio schools, teachers listen to students, engaging fully in discussion and posing questions to deepen the conversation. Reggio teachers help “children to develop theories in response to listening” (Wexler, 2004, p. 18). Outside of a few very rare occasions, I don’t remember being listened to like that in my experience in my US public schools. Looking at it from an educator’s point of view now, I understand how scary it can be to just let kids talk about something. What if the conversation goes off the rails? What if something bad happens???
It will be fine. Becoming comfortable with not knowing is a big first step I hope to take in incorporating listening into my classroom. I do hope to provide a space for students to discover their own interests and theories, and not just those put on them by adults in their lives. I don’t think discussion needs to be long or drawn out to be meaningful, it just needs to be routine and comfortable. I think if a class of kids are in the habit of discussing before and after a learning experience, it will become natural to express thoughts and feelings about the topics as they come. As a teacher, my responsibility is to facilitate a supportive listening environment and step back to let the kids work!