Missives from Samsara

I came across the information below in today’s Morning Brew newsletter. It appears professors at one of America’s most elite universities are inflating grades. Shocker! Indeed, I don’t buy the comment from the student quoted at the bottom of the screenshot. College should be much more difficult than high school and just because a student earned A’s in high school, that shouldn’t necessarily mean they will deserve the same grades in college.

In fact, as a high school teacher, approaching three full decades in the classroom, I can say emphatically that high schools are also inflating grades. In the case of high schools the reasons for this include the incentive placed on schools to increase graduation rates and ‘equity.’ Neither of these root causes are positive developments, yet they are the current reality, at least where I teach.

Whether or not this all matters is worth thinking about. Here are a few takes on the topic: Take #1 and Take #2. The problem I have with it is that it warps the connection in the minds of students between their efforts and the quality of the outcomes of their efforts. In all of life, feedback is data. If the feedback is inaccurate, it puts people at a disadvantage as they move through early adulthood. The disconnect can lead to some serious pain (like borrowing tens of thousands of dollars for school and then flunking out). For kids coming from middle and working class families, they deserve honest feedback in the form of grades.

Privilege is a flip side to this. Many people whose lives and outcomes are boosted by privilege face the same problem of disconnect between effort and outcomes. Often their success had little to do with their efforts and a lot to do with the privilege they inherited. Considering that approximately 57% of Harvard students come from families in the top 10% of the income distribution, it is clear this is relevant give the grade inflation there.

In my APUSH classes today we wrapped up the War of 1812 and began a lesson on the surge of nationalism that arose in the young United States in the wake of the war. To help differentiate nationalism from patriotism, I shared the quotes below from Roger Cohen’s excellent, thought-provoking book An Affirming Flame and encouraged students to discuss them.

My students got Cohen’s points immediately, and I think it is safe to say they agree with Albert Einstein that nationalism is an ‘infantile disease’ that leads to war and is primitive and unbecoming of grown ups in this day and age. Many of us can see that now. However, nations as political constructs are not all that old and despite the fact that in the early 1800s the Napoleonic Wars were raging in Europe, the horrors of the two world wars lay ahead of everyone. The nationalism that arose in America during and after the Era of Good Feelings had many contributing factors (such as the Battle of New Orleans, Clay’s American System, Chief Justice John Marshall’s SCOTUS rulings, and developments in the arts) and in hindsight it is understandable why it arose. However, surely it is time to put the ridiculous ideology to bed and replace it with an openhearted patriotism and general goodwill towards others.

One of the hardest parts of teaching is covering topics that don’t naturally interest most 16- and 17-year olds. Some folks, mostly those that aren’t actually trying to educate young people, claim that the job of teachers is to make topics ‘interesting.’ This sort of cant grates. The fact is, sometimes young people need to be made aware of realities that—on a Tuesday afternoon in October—they won’t easily engage with. This has always been a dilemma for teachers (portrayed humorously by SNL back in 1992), but it is made even more problematic in the Age of Handheld Distraction. Teens today are used to watching a short video on their smartphones and scrolling past it within seconds if it doesn’t capture their interest. And teachers are not entertainers. Students can’t scroll us away.

The quote below by educator Peps Mccrea resonated with me because it’s true and because it isn’t something teachers hear all that often. If math was intrinsically interesting to 8 year olds, schools wouldn’t be needed. Indeed, algebra is not always a ‘magnet of attention’ for most people, kids or otherwise.

In my case, I recently taught Brutus No. 1, the most famous of the Anti-Federalist arguments against the ratification of the Constitution. It was written in 1788. It comes off as stilted to the modern reader. It is—Hard. To. Read. Of course, the arguments Brutus made about an overpowerful federal government ruled by a strongman is super relevant to teenagers growing up in Portland, Oregon at the moment. That depressing fact of life today helps make the reading relevant. But the point remains: it is not necessarily interesting (as evidenced by the fact that the vast, vast majority of Americans have no idea a) what Brutus’ arguments were and b) who the Anti-federalists were). Indeed, those who do know it most likely learned it in school.

So, the dilemma remains. We have to teach topics that aren’t always going to interest students, that aren’t natural ‘magnets of attention.’ The art of teaching–the perpetual challenge–is figuring out how to make even the dullest topics come alive for as many students as possible.

In my AP Government class we recently read Madison’s Federalist No. 10. Rereading it this year, I am reminded that it is something I wish more Americans were familiar with and the conversation in class connected to an idea in one of the books I just finished reading. In Federalist No. 10 Madison argues for a republican government; that is, a representative democracy. His fear of majority rule (‘direct democracy’) was based on the idea the majority might use that status to trample on the natural rights of the minority. He was mostly worried about the landless masses taking the property of men like himself through the power of the legislature. However, his point has been made throughout American history. The example I use in class is the stain of Jim Crow racism in our history. For close to 100 years a majority of whites in many states (and in all the southern states) voted to trample the rights of non-white citizens. They disenfranchised racial minorities as well, but even if everyone in those places could actually vote most southern states were still majority white so Madison’s point would have likely still been made, that in a pure democracy there is a danger of the minority having their rights abused. This is known as the ‘tyranny of the majority’ and it is an obvious danger of a direct democracy.

Of course, a minority faction (that is, an interest group or political party that does not represent the majority of society) can also trample on the natural rights of the people if they have power. Today, we certainly can see that those with enormous wealth, a minority for sure, have captured much of our government and take advantage of that capture to protect their wealth (I’m looking at you 119th Congress). While discussing the essay, students in class brought up campaign finance as an example of a faction’s threat to our democracy. Coincidentally, their comments touched on something I recently read.

The Narrow Corridor is an excellent, if wonky, book, subtitled ‘States, Societies, and the Fate of Liberty.’ At the end of the paradigm-shifting book, the authors (Daron Acemoglu and James A. Robinson) include a few suggestions for keeping America ‘in the corridor’ (between a ‘despotic leviathan’ and an ‘absent leviathan’), as it is clear to everyone paying attention that we are living in a time when liberty is being threatened by an increasingly unshackled state.

So what was the connection? Well, the first solution Acemoglu and Robinson mention was campaign finance reform. Specifically, they argue we should “curtail campaign contributions and limit the impact of lobbying. Specific measures to bring greater transparency to the relationship between firms, lobbyists, and politicians may be particularly important since accounts of how politicians became become faithful servants of certain industries or interests often involve meetings hidden from the public eye and poorly monitored revolving door arrangements in which regulators and politicians are later hired by the private sector at very attractive salaries.”

In other words, it would be beneficial to change our campaign finance laws in order to make it harder for minority factions (that is, special interest groups) or the uber-wealthy in general, to threaten the liberty of the majority of citizens.

I always love it when something happens in class that connects with something that has been brought to my attention by something I have recently read. I wonder what Madison would say about the fact that today such a small minority, due to their incredible wealth, can manipulate our government, at all levels, for their own benefit.

Sam Wineburg is one of the brains behind the amazing website Digital Inquiry Group (which used to be called the Stanford History Education Group). The team behind DIG produces high-quality lesson plans for social studies teachers that focus on inquiry and expose students to a variety of primary and secondary sources. Their lessons also emphasize that there can be multiple views about what has happened in the past. I have happily used their lessons for years.

A few years ago I read Wineburg’s excellent book Why Learn History. The quote below resonated because it gets to an issue that the public, and many educators, aren’t familiar with. Namely, that the folks who make the tests are constantly redefining what counts, which makes the tests a bit less helpful than they could be. In Oregon, students’ knowledge of social studies content isn’t really tested. Certainly, if students are taking AP exams, they are taking standardized exams written by the College Board. However, as a veteran educator, I don’t put a lot of trust in their test results. The main reason for this is that test scores can yo-yo from year to year, even though what and how I teach isn’t all that different from year to year.

Moving the goal posts leads to another issue. When students demonstrate mastery of a particular skill or fact, that item might vanish from the test, not because it’s unimportant, but because assessors want to maintain a spread of scores. That practice means success can feel like it gets punished—today’s knowledge may not even register tomorrow. At the same time, it’s worth noting that there are moments when standards are lowered, which is an entirely different problem. Lowering expectations masks gaps rather than addressing them, creating a false sense of progress. Between shifting targets on one end and diluted benchmarks on the other, it’s little wonder that educators, parents, and the public often struggle to trust what standardized scores actually tell us.

On top of that, when I think about my own teaching, it is an absolute fact that I have gotten better as my career has continued. I’d say the quality of teaching generally is better than what one would have found broadly twenty-five years ago. We just know more about good instruction. Yet, the news and ‘scores’ don’t always reflect it.

At the end of the day, as both a teacher and a parent, I don’t put too much weight into test scores. I’m not opposed to standardized tests, but I try to keep in mind Wineburg’s point, that there are reasons, often hidden, that weaken their ability to inform.

As a teacher, I hear students lament the frustrations of procrastination all the time. Just last week I asked some of my classes during a whip around what they want to improve on this semester. The most common answer was beating procrastination. Of course, teenagers aren’t the only ones who battle this problem. Steven Pressfield wrote a beautiful book about it called The War of Art. He called the problem The Resistance.

Fellow writer (and Pressfield friend) Ryan Holiday provides a helpful perspective on procrastination in the three sentences shared below. Whereas Pressfield frames procrastination as fear dressed in all of our endless distractions, Holiday goes a bit further and says it is arrogance. Together, they show both the inner and outer faces of the same issue.

I couldn’t save this quote into my second brain fast enough. It gets to the heart of the matter for me because it relates to the core Buddhist idea of impermanence. When I remember that nothing is guaranteed, not even tomorrow, it makes the decision to start today feel less like a burden and more like a responsibility. It is a fact that we could die at any time. Karma can shift on a dime. Most of us don’t think about that fact very often (that’s a whole other topic). Thus, Holiday is spot on; to put something important off because you think you will have time later is arrogant. It’s also true that if you lack the will and the discipline in the present, what’s to say you’ll have it in the future? For me, this shows up most clearly when I put off my short little home weight lifting protocol. I tell myself I’ll do it in an hour, but half the time it never happens that day.

Readwise, the app I use to capture these quotes while I read, allows you to pick favorites that they email to you every Sunday. This is one of those favorited Sunday quotes for me.

Brian Johnson is an amazing resource for those who want to learn about self improvement. I discovered him years ago because he produced what he called Philosopher’s Notes on the many books he read. Today he runs a company called Heroic that is focused on helping people and the world flourish. I highly recommend his book and other digital resources.

This quote hits hard for me. As a high school teacher, I am all about being efficient with my time due to the challenges of teaching (interfacing with 150 teenagers every day, email, planning, grading, hiking across campus just to make copies, dealing with all the other teacher admin we need to deal with–you get the idea). However, I find that I always feel rushed when talking to people individually outside of class and often give both students and colleagues less than my full attention. I know that is not ideal. After such an interaction, I can usually feel that I was not fully present and it leaves me disappointed. I saved this quote while reading Arete’ because it is a solid reminder that I need to reframe how I interact with people one-on-one at work. I’m still learning, and some days are harder than others, but I am getting better. I have come to realize that what’s true of productivity is also true of people: sometimes you’ve got to slow down in order to speed up.

One issue nearly all high school teachers face is students who are excessively worried about their grades. To be sure, the student that doesn’t care about their grades presents a more worrisome dilemma, but that does not make the ‘grade grubber’ student any less real or frustrating. As a teacher, when I talk to this young person I hope to convey the idea that the process is more important than the result. I also attempt to convince them that getting a B in an AP class in high school is not the end of the world. I always add that this grade they are worried about iis something they likely won’t think about once they’re out of high school. Like, ever. Sometimes my arguments ease the student’s worry, but I suspect most often my words don’t do all that much good.

A related problem arises when a student who has high A continues to stress out about their grade. This type of student typically has the habits to maintain their success. The quote below, from a 2024 book by Jennifer Breheny Wallace about the dangers of ‘achievement culture’ in America, makes an important point about this type of student that I strongly agree with. Put simply, a meaningful adolescence should involve more than just academic performance. Indeed, thinking back now on my high school experience–many years ago, that is true-–I remember hardly anything about the academic nature of my experience, including specific grades. What I do remember are my friendships, playing football, cutting class on Wednesdays during senior year to drive to Oakland to catch Oakland A’s day games in the bleachers (for something like $5!), and the other emotional highs and lows of my particular experience in the late 80s in a small college town in Northern California. I recognize in hindsight that earning decent grades (I was a straight B student) helped me get into college. However, the grades and their meaning faded quickly.

It is worth noting that our current system is organized in a way that promotes student worries about grades. That is a whole other topic that I will refrain from getting into, but I do think is important not to forget.

Today, I hope my students, as well as my daughter, will approach high school with the wisdom to discern that while grades matter, so do relationships, extra-curricular activities, travel (if one is so lucky), and the pursuit of other interests in the margins of the high school experience. Of course, students today have additional pressures caused by phones and social media that I didn’t have to deal with in the ‘80s. Nevertheless, it’s a critical balance; and while it is hard to nail it, having a well rounded experience in high school is worth the effort. Wallace nails this idea with these 12 words.