“Growing old is mandatory; growing up is optional.”
~ Chili Davis
I was spending some time with a good friend in Chapters yesterday, browsing through the Kids’ Fiction section – the kind of stories written for children of nine to twelve years. I discovered a couple of books from my youth that she had also read, and we stood there with Watership Down and Tuck Everlasting and began to reminisce about how profound these books were, and how they dealt with such powerful issues, introducing us to the ideas of tyranny and freedom, reason and blind emotion, the folly of seeking immortality, and so on. Then we looked at a random selection of the latest in kids’ fiction and found them wanting, compilations of insubstantial fluff bound together and called a novel, that explored nothing of worth and catered only to the whimsical fancies of a new generation.
This led the conversation to a discussion of the maturity of our students (my friend is a children’s pastor). We came to the conclusion that, far from growing up too fast, they aren’t taking the time to grow up at all; while they are exposed to mature themes in modern society – sex, drugs, violence, and so on – they are not developing the maturity to handle it. The apparent truth of this conclusion came when we talked of decades past, when children were expected to follow in the trade of their parents, when they were educated with what they needed to know to make a decent living and struck out to make a life of their own by the age of fifteen (if not sooner).
Certainly, it was a harder life in those times – but a person of eighteen years in that era was an adult, fully independent and mature; a person of eighteen years now is still a child, barely possessing the wherewithal to make wise decisions, let alone build a life for themselves. Despite the tongue-in-cheek title of this reflection, I don’t think it’s an issue of intelligence but one of preparedness. Students today are simply not being prepared to become adults; they are coddled and pampered and given choices that they have not earned, and it is ruining their youth. This is a time that ought to be spent building wisdom, discipline, honor, charity, and a host of other virtues – and instead it is squandered in the pursuit of frivolities that are, ultimately, meaningless.
Yes, I know, there are exceptions. But they make these observations more poignant for the contrast.
So what does all this have to do with teaching science? It is making me question the point of all that we teach in high school science. The curriculum is content-driven, and while different methods can be used to make it interesting and engaging and fun, I question why we are teaching it at all. Only a fraction of those who take science classes will remember what they have learned even a year after graduation; of those, another mere fraction will actually put what they have learned to use in further education and industry. What is the point of making the science curriculum so content-driven when most of the content will be forgotten?
The quandary I have is this: I love science. I find it fascinating and I enjoy teaching the subject of my fascination to others. But I would gladly abandon it in favor of teaching students that life doesn’t revolve around them; that they are a spoiled, selfish generation; that if society is ever to rise out of the murk and mire of our times, they just have to grow up. That’s what they need to learn. And I just don’t see how teaching science can get them there – it contains a great deal of information, but very little about life.
(I really miss teaching life skills to homeless ex-convicts right now.)
My only consolation at this point is that the teaching of science will inevitably lead to strong relationships with certain students as the years go by, built upon a shared love of the subject. Through these relationships I hope to be able to influence and shape these individuals, to help them grow in maturity and wisdom, and to become the people that the world needs. I have to hold on to the belief that even if there aren’t many good people in the universe, you only need a few.
Until I find a way to integrate science and the larger issues of life, science will always take second place to teaching that which is really important.
