Education Gurus and Driving Range Swamis

Earlier this week, the teachers in my building were instructed to attend an in-service called “Love and Logic,” presented by a Dr. Bob Sornson.

It turned out to be three of the most excruciating hours of my life. Worse, we all have to attend part two next week.

Sornson comes across as condescending, vapid and insipid. I found his “insights” into teaching nothing more than vacuous platitudes.

The “seminar” reminded me of a movie from some thirty years ago called “Being There.” In that movie, Peter Sellers played a simpleton—a gardener—named Chauncey who is forced into the world when his employer dies. Through a series of mishaps, Chauncey ends up as the confidant of the wealthy and powerful, who mistake his idiotic statements as wisdom.

A scene from the film:

President “Bobby”: Mr. Gardner, do you agree with Ben, or do you think that we can stimulate growth through temporary incentives?
[Long pause]
Chance the Gardener: As long as the roots are not severed, all is well. And all will be well in the garden.
President “Bobby”: In the garden.
Chance the Gardener: Yes. In the garden, growth has it seasons. First comes spring and summer, but then we have fall and winter. And then we get spring and summer again.
President “Bobby”: Spring and summer.
Chance the Gardener: Yes.
President “Bobby”: Then fall and winter.
Chance the Gardener: Yes.
Benjamin Rand: I think what our insightful young friend is saying is that we welcome the inevitable seasons of nature, but we’re upset by the seasons of our economy.
Chance the Gardener: Yes! There will be growth in the spring!
Benjamin Rand: Hmm!
Chance the Gardener: Hmm!
President “Bobby”: Hm. Well, Mr. Gardner, I must admit that is one of the most refreshing and optimistic statements I’ve heard in a very, very long time.
[Benjamin Rand applauds]
President “Bobby”: I admire your good, solid sense. That’s precisely what we lack on Capitol Hill.

Sornson’s pronouncements were no less simple. Some choice bits:

“A good teacher has high expectations for his students.”

“A good teacher creates a safe classroom”

“Good teachers don’t argue with their students. They reinforce the rules and procedures.”

While it’s apparent from his “rave reviews” that some take his words as a profound new understanding, my only thought was “DUH.” I can’t believe that this man has managed to make a living by stating such painfully obvious truths. He said nothing that I haven’t been doing for fifteen years.

Further, I can’t believe that there are any teachers out there who haven’t already figured all of this out on their own. Is there a professional educator out there who would really allow themselves to be sucked into an argument with a kid? Are there really any teachers worth their salt who don’t already have high expectations for their students? And even if they didn’t personally, state standards and benchmarks would already have forced them into it.

If there are teachers who didn’t already know what Sornson spent hours talking about, I haven’t met them. My own colleagues are thoughtful, conscientious, dedicated individuals.

Sornson gets with delivering platitudes because of the Ph.D. behind his name. If it’s said by a guy with an impressive title, it must be worth considering. After all, a mere teacher could not arrive at such conclusions on his own.

What’s even more infuriating is that all of this is coming from a guy who hasn’t been in a classroom in two decades. Actually, that’s not surprising. It’s an article of faith among teachers that failed teachers become administrators. And failed administrators become consultants. It’s a lot easier to tell someone how to teach than to do the teaching yourself. Given the simplistic formulas Sornson preaches, it’s no wonder he had to go into consulting.

I think I should go into the golf guru business with a similar strategy. I’ll add a couple of impressive-sounding letters after my name and make some similarly moronic statements:

“To be better at golf you need to get the ball in the hole.”

“Hitting a fairway is better than landing in the rough.”

It won’t matter that I’m a 12 handicapper. Eduction consultants prove that you don’t have to be good at something yourself in order to tell others how to do things. All it takes is overweening self-confidence and the willingness to perpetuate a fraud on your victims.

I’ve run across more than a couple of those in my search for an instructor to improve my game. In both group lessons and private, I’ve found that—like a Ph.D.—a Class A PGA certification really doesn’t mean a whole lot. And price is no indication of competence.

I visited a couple of instructors last summer on a trial basis. All were obsessed with the digital video camera and with using that toy to compare my swing to Tiger’s. And they all offered Sornson-like platitudes: Swing it easy to hit it far. Square the clubface at impact. Keep your head down. Take it back low and slow.

I’m still looking for a golf guru. Just like I’m looking for a education consultant who has something to teach me.