kaleidoscope museum--a curriculum of perspectives

This should be held until eighth or ninth grade—so shall we keep the division in grades, and between elementary, middle, high and college, as they are? And what about the lay of the school year—where should the breaks be, and how long? I suppose much will be conserved here; but let this be considered hand in hand with the curriculum. The keystone of it, as I conceive it setting out, is its historical perspective, by which I simply mean that, insofar as possible, works will be taught in the context of their creation, and in relation to what came before and what followed. Thus, we will read the likes of Beowulf and Chaucer, Shakespeare and Milton, Blake and Keats, Joyce and Eliot, Tom Stoppard and Philip Pullman, in that order, though perhaps cyclically, by which I mean that while kindergardeners probably will not get King Lear, they may be treated to a few of the songs; as soon as possible, though, the groundwork of an understanding of Renaissance, 17th century, 18th c., and modern will be laid, and the key ideas of each borne in mind.

As with the English, we will read some French, Italian, German and Russian works to provide another kind of context, geographical, and build outwards in both, in time and space, so that a graduate has a sense of the sweep of culture to which he is the inheritor. And we will read American books, of course, and books by women, and from elsewhere on Earth than the West, from other levels of society than the elite, and even some postmodern and contemporary stuff--this is all our purview. Naturally, we won’t be learning French, Italian, etc ; however, exposure to foreign languages, and actually becoming fluent in at least one living language, is a major goal for the new education, a concrete end within the broader goal of relating the possibilities, the varieties of experience making up life. Towards this end, students at one elementary school will begin learning Spanish, those at another, French, and at a third, Chinese; in the unlikely event that there are qualified teachers, more than one may be offered at a single school, and any kids whose parents want to go a little crazy will be free to take multiple languages.

This freedom raises an important point—while there will be a core of such sources as the Bible, Homer, Shakespeare, elsewhere there will be instead a list to choose from, at the individual teacher’s discretion, to avoid undue lockstep and keep things fresh from year to year.

And then besides books, for there is much more to culture, we will teach the art, music, history, that is, what was happening politically, what life was like, and science, how people looked at the world and made use of it. It may be worth reading some of the sources on these subjects, but more often it may be best left to the artifacts—the pictures, reproductions of tools, food, maps—accompanied by a summary from the teacher. We will not only be listening to music and looking at paintings, but playing instruments and singing and drawing—and even writing, not just reading. Oh yeah, math.

teachers, books, faith--Montaigne

Naturally teachers will be expected to have at least an acquaintance with all the works they teach, hopefully a thorough understanding and interest moreover, but at least an open and fertile mind if coming to it, like their students, for the first time. It is the person that is essential, though, not the books they know, when we are discussing the kind of teacher I want, and want to be. Let us make that clear: despite the importance of books to the new schooling, we are concerned with developing good people, not literary critics only, and so the role models, the teachers, must foremost be interesting people themselves. It is just that books are an invaluable repository of the eternal part of just such interesting people who have lived throughout history—proving it is possible and giving us good cheer. God rest ye merry gentlemen; we must read some of the Bible, old and new, in various translations. To show the variety in translation, the vicissitudes in the history of its composition, the interpretations, allusions, and prevarications erected upon it, never forgetting the faith attached to it, sometimes how fast, others how tenuously, but not, of course, expounding or declaiming this faith unfairly, but exploring it, too, and showing the margin beyond which only belief permits certainty, and the lack of belief, if it tries to force itself, certain danger —our watchwords are Montaigne’s: What do I know? and, not necessarily an answer, Restraint.

welcome

Que scais-je?
Love thy neighbor
γνῶθι σαυτόν

--and an American flag as you walk in, a globe, and a bookshelf. Off to one side a coffee table and comfortable chairs and benches, windows, plants, paintings. Magazines and local brochures, picture books scattered about. A dog ambles by, old and good-natured.

More and more the school and the neighborhood take on the same images, the same idea. What motivates one motivates the other—authenticity; responsibility and delight; honesty and respect. The same human weakness afflicts them both in this least human age, at the ebb of our capacities in that regard--we don't know the people around us, don't care about what is not immediately relevant to our narrow sights--put up with bad and evil things silently, hoping to escape, and are bad and evil ourselves if it serves our ends.

The freedom, the flexibility which permits this, in itself good, has not been consolidated with the guidance to make good decisions, now that every choice is open to us--to make us aware of the all laid out before us--to so much as instill in us our value-giving, meaningful aptitude, the apple of enlightenment.

The neighborhood is the metaphor for the school, so that all the teachers and students will strive together and be at home, and the school is the way towards making the neighborhood real, so that when they leave these walls, they bear it out in daily life, daily bread. Say, how are you? and hear the answer--hear in the answer acknowledgment of mutual humanity. Say, when they are unsure of something, I don't know, and go about finding out. And when in pain or threat of violence or fear or rage, hopefully, to catch sight of themselves and laugh, daydream. Have the confidence to pursue happiness. That is all.