I read last month that Tennessee is adding a new dimension to its school standards.
As the Tennessee Department of Education prepares to roll out new academic standards in math, English, social studies and science, it’s turning attention to creating the state’s first-ever set of standards in a completely new arena — social and emotional learning.
Tennessee will spend the next year on the task as one of eight states chosen to draft new standards focused on students’ emotional well-being and mental health in grades K-12.
That means setting benchmarks for what students should know or be able to do in each grade when it comes to skills such as decision-making, self-awareness, social awareness, self-control, and establishing and maintaining healthy relationships.
The idea is that setting grade-appropriate standards for social and emotional learning can help teachers help their students thrive both in and out of the classroom.
. . .
The standards will be developed in collaboration with the Collaborative for Academic, Social, and Emotional Learning, also known as CASEL, which announced this week that Tennessee will join the initiative along with California, Georgia, Massachusetts, Minnesota, Nevada, Pennsylvania and Washington. The national organization previously has partnered with urban districts including Metropolitan Nashville Public Schools but is branching out into state policy to spread strategies around social and emotional learning.
. . .
“(The standards) will establish social and emotional learning as a priority in education,” said Conner, who has worked with at-risk youth in Tennessee for 30 years.
I was struck by a recent article in Business Insider titled “I moved from LA to a town of 2,300 people — here were the biggest culture shocks I faced in small-town America“. Here are a couple of excerpts.
The media focus on the local community
I still remember one of my first big culture shocks: when I saw a picture from the local high school basketball team on the front page of the daily paper.
I used to read the nationally-minded LA Times. Now my local paper, the Jackson Hole News & Guide, runs stories about the debate team.
The issues people care about here are different than those in the city. Stories about land usage, grazing rights, and the Bureau of Land Management are hot-button topics over here, while they may not register with my friends in coastal cities.
. . .
Small towns are more intimate but also more isolating than big cities
You have a lot of time to be alone with your thoughts up here, and if you have issues with crowds and the bustle of busy boulevards, this is a great place. Acre lots are pretty standard in neighborhoods. You can always find parking, traffic is minimal, and there’s a real sense of “we’re all in this together” even if we’re all more separated.
On the other hand, there are fewer social events here, especially in the winter. And many people in small towns have had their friends for years, so it can take a while to build strong relationships, whereas in cities people are usually more interested in networking and trying to expand their social groups. Still, within a few years you begin to feel like you know everybody.
There’s more at the link. Recommended reading.
I was struck by a recent article comparing school reading lists from 1908 and today, and what it revealed. It’s structured in such a way that it’s hard to pick usable excerpts from it, so I’ll simply recommend that you read the whole thing. Briefly, the author pointed out that the books on the modern reading list were much less challenging to their readers, much less informative about our cultural and historical background, and very limited in their vocabulary. She concluded:
Unless we give our students challenging material to dissect, process, and study, how can we expect them to break out of the current poor proficiency ratings and advance beyond a basic reading level?
Go read it all. It’s worth your time.
My wife is constantly
nagging chiding reminding me about the need to maintain a healthy work-life balance. Of course, our definitions of what’s “healthy” are frequently not very well synchronized…
Dorothy here, writing you from somewhere in the Pisgah National Forest, on Peter’s login since it’s functioning better than the laptop I brought. (Two is one, and one is none…) Today’s article is dialogue: how not to do it. Read more
I’m doing one of my regular assessments of where I’m at, in terms of books in progress or published, earnings from my writing, and future prospects. I find it helps to take a cold, calculating look at my position from time to time, and figure out whether I’m achieving my goals, or whether the latter need to be revised, or whether I need to change how I’m going about achieving them.
In the process, I’ve been reading other creators’ assessment of their successes and/or failures. Some of them seem to regard themselves as failures because they can’t earn a living from their writing. They fail to understand that very few writers can do so – probably no more than 1-2% of us, if truth be told. Yet, many of us (including yours truly) aspire to earn at that level. The question thus arises: are we fooling ourselves? Are we living in cloud cuckoo land? Or is that objective worth pursuing?
I’m sure we all had favorite books while growing up. I have very fond memories of Arthur Ransome‘s “Swallows and Amazons” series, Rosemary Sutcliff‘s voluminous output (particularly her Roman Britain books), Elizabeth Enright‘s delightful novels, and so on.
A particular favorite, to whom I returned time and time again, was Ronald Welch. His series of children’s historical novels about successive generations of the Carey family, running the gamut from the Crusades to World War I, captivated me, and never grew stale. Even as an adult, when I occasionally came across a copy, I’d re-read it with great pleasure. His books had been out of print for decades, and were hard to find (particularly at affordable prices – some of them are in nosebleed territory), but now and again I’d find one I could afford, and add it to my bookshelves.