It’s been a topsy-turvy period recently, but one of the highlights has been collaborating on a fascinating project with my colleague, Dean Pedro Noguera from USC Ed School. Our discussions, which started back in January and will soon become a book published by Teachers College Press, have traversed numerous critical debates within education. This experience has brought me back to a question that persistently lingers in my mind: Why Is School So Boring for so many students?
Think about young children – they are inherently inquisitive. A defining characteristic of toddlers is their relentless barrage of questions. “What’s this?”, “What’s that?”, “Why does this happen?” Their constant questioning is often endearing, sometimes exasperating, but always indicative of a natural thirst for knowledge.
It’s perplexing, then, that our education system seems almost designed to extinguish this innate curiosity. Children begin their academic journey with an eagerness to learn about practically everything, yet this enthusiasm visibly diminishes as they progress through their school years. This spring served as a stark reminder. With students confined to their homes, detached from extracurricular activities and social interactions, one might have anticipated that schoolwork would offer a stimulating distraction. However, the overwhelming feedback from parents, teachers, and students alike was that remote learning was largely perceived as monotonous and uninspiring busywork. When I inquired about positive aspects, the responses centered on convenience and flexibility, rarely on engagement or enjoyment.
Honestly, pinpointing the exact cause of this widespread disengagement, this “Great Tuning Out,” is challenging. Is it the educators? Parents? The omnipresence of technology like iPhones? The influence of popular culture? The reality is, effectively engaging even a single child in learning is a complex undertaking. We burden schools with a multitude of additional responsibilities, from providing meals to managing transportation, tasks that are logistically demanding, as recent times have underscored.
While I’ve often believed that schools and teachers need to enhance their approaches, I must also acknowledge my own experiences. As someone who has taught at both the high school and college levels for years, even managing two young children at home can be incredibly demanding. It’s a constant cycle of activity, noise, and, of course, endless questions, repeating every few minutes. Attempting to read to them, focus them on an activity, or encourage independent play often devolves into a series of brief intervals punctuated by complaints, laughter, and questionable choices.
Reflecting on my time teaching 30 high school students in a classroom in Baton Rouge, Louisiana, I wonder how I managed to navigate those days. Despite my criticisms of districts struggling to adapt to contemporary educational needs, I am reminded of the sheer effort involved in simply guiding a class of students through a single school day. And this doesn’t even account for the myriad distractions students face, such as social media notifications or late-night video binges.
I find myself contemplating how to reconcile two conflicting ideas: the strong belief that schools should be vibrant and stimulating environments, and the recognition that the daily work of educating children can be incredibly draining, even for the most passionate and dedicated educators.
I confess, I don’t possess a definitive solution to this dilemma, whether in traditional classrooms or online settings. Many well-intentioned reforms aimed at improving “ineffective” teaching – from standardized testing to teacher evaluations – have inadvertently made classrooms feel more rigid and less inspiring. Simultaneously, overly sentimental praise for teachers can sometimes obscure the reality that many classrooms are indeed uninspiring places, and some educators may lack the strategies to improve this.
Perhaps the disruptions of this past spring and the less-than-ideal experiment with distance learning will trigger some much-needed insights. Perhaps this period will encourage us to discover more effective ways to address this fundamental challenge. It may be optimistic, but I am searching for silver linings in these experiences.
