Dumbing Us Down by John Taylor Gatto

This is the 6th post in my series about books related to teaching, learning and homeschooling. 

(See my earlier post for a description of the series.)

I first came across Dumbing Us Down: The Hidden Curriculum of Compulsory Schooling (1st edition, 1991) at a homeschooling conference. At the time, I was trying to understand why my mostly positive memories of elementary school in the 1960s were not enough to overcome my adverse reaction to sending my daughter to school in 1996. How had something that had felt so right for me, when I was a child, become something that felt so wrong for my own free-spirited little girl?

At first, all I had to go on was a gut feeling, because I hadn't yet found the words to describe exactly what it was about the school environment that bothered me, but the feeling wouldn't go away. I just knew there was something about the way my daughter was being instructed and confined all day that didn't sit well with me. What had been OK for me was not something I was willing to accept for her.  It was as simple—and irrational—as that. What I needed was a rational explanation for what my instincts were telling me.

I think that's why Dumbing Us Down caught my attention. "Strong Words from the New York State Teacher of the Year" the cover proclaimed. Glancing at the back of the book, I learned the author was a teacher who had broken ranks and turned against the system that had employed him.  He had resigned "after 26 years of award-winning teaching in Manhattan's public schools." What had happened to provoke this teacher, who in his book describes school as "a twelve-year jail sentence where bad habits are the only curriculum truly learned"? 

Strong words, indeed, but was there any truth to them? I bought a copy of the book to decide for myself. In the first chapter, I read about the seven lessons that make up the "hidden curriculum of compulsory schooling." They are, according to Gatto:

1. Confusion—"Everything I teach is out of context."
2. Class Position—"The variety of ways children are numbered by schools has increased dramatically, until it is hard to see the human beings plainly under the weight of the numbers they carry."
3. Indifference—"The lesson of bells is that no work is worth finishing, so why care too deeply about anything?"
4. Emotional Dependency—"By stars and red checks, smiles and frowns, prizes, honors, and disgraces, I teach kids to surrender their will to the predestinated chain of command."
5. Intellectual Dependency—"Good students wait for a teacher to tell them what to do."
6. Provisional Self-Esteem—"I teach that a kid's self-respect should depend on expert opinion. My kids are constantly evaluated and judged." "Self-evaluation, the staple of every major philosophical system that ever appeared on the planet, is never considered a factor."
7. One Can't Hide—"I teach students they are always watched, that each is under constant surveillance by myself and my colleagues."

Although I didn't agree with all the libertarian rhetoric in Gatto's book—too many sweeping generalizations and not enough evidence to convince me—his list of lessons validated what I had been feeling. My daughter had already complained (in first grade!) about doing work that seemed meaningless (i.e., out of context). She grumbled about not having enough time to finish her work and the lack of "alone time." And, as her mother, I was concerned about her lack of freedom: her teacher made all the decisions about what, when and how to learn, leaving little opportunity for self-directed learning or "free play." 

So, why hadn't these things bothered me when I was in school? I think it was because I was the kind of child who needed a place that was predictable, where expectations were clear and consistent. I thrived on the gold stars and approval I got from teachers. For reasons I won't go into here, I didn't expect to have control over my own life, so I was ripe for schooling.

But a child who has always been encouraged to believe in herself and pursue her own dreams knows what freedom feels like. She takes for granted her ability to branch out and explore, gradually widening her reach as she grows older. I think that's why putting my daughter into school felt so much like putting her into a cage. Compared to her life at home and within a larger community, it was too limiting, too confining, too prescriptive. I wanted her to have access to a bigger experience than school could provide. 

That's what Gatto's book helped me to see:

"Whatever an education is, it should make you a unique individual, not a conformist; it should furnish you with an original spirit with which to tackle the big challenges; it should allow you to find values which will be your road map through life; it should make you spiritually rich, a person who loves whatever you are doing, wherever you are, whomever you are with; it should teach you what is important, how to live and how to die."