At the moment my school’s faculty are discussing and shaping for ourselves to ideals. We are gathering ideas to produce a portrait of an Ideal Graduate and defining what an Ideal Teacher at our school would be like. These are powerful pursuits because they can lift every student and teacher to a higher plane of community and unity.
But not everyone in our day believes in ideals. I often hear that ideals lead to idealism, meaning having a standard that is impractical makes those who pursue it impractical. This is often argued in the area of assessment. The argument goes something like, “If you place some arbitrary ideal in front of a student, one they can never reach, you are just going to frustrate them.”
I disagree. Some of the argument is due to the shift from “teaching the father of the man” to a child centered pedagogy in modern theory. I will blog more extensively on the old concept that makes truth, not the person, the center of education later. But when education became more focused on how children feel in school than on what they are learning, we definitely stopped believing in ideals.
An ideal anything sets the normative basis for that thing. The ideal basketball player (who cannot possibly exists) helps the coach set before his players not only a vision they can never attain, but it also reveals to the players and coach what portion less than that ideal is acceptable on the team.
In another way of approaching it, if there is no “100%” there can be nothing to measure a 90 or 80 or 70 against. The truly great education calls a student to something beyond his reach. It certainly has to help him rise up to that calling, but once he believes himself lifted up to a higher plateau, he realizes that from that vantage point, there is another, higher, goal calling him yet up and in. I have solioquized often about how powerful I think David Hick’s Norms and Nobility is as a modern work on education. Let me allow him to more fully develop this idea in ways that are beyond my skill.
“In his quest for the best education, the ancient schoolmaster possessed two advantages over the modern educator. First, he knew exactly what kind of a person he wished to produce…Second, he agreed in form upon an inquiry-based or knowledge-centered – as opposed to a child-centered – approach to education.” (David Hicks, Norms and Nobility, p. 39)
“The past instructs us that man has only understood himself and mastered himself in pursuit of a self-transcendent Ideal, a Golden Fleece, a Promised Land, a Holy Grail, a numinous windmill. He defines himself in the quest, not on Kalypso’s unblown isle, where he is only judged against himself, where all obstacles are removed, where the question of human significance seems insignificant, and where there are no moral restraints or binding ideals. On Kalypso’s idyllic estate, Odyssean man is a nobody. He languishes in egocentric frustration, self-doubt, and insecurity. In many ways, he is a portrait of the modern student, seated “on the vacant beach with a shattered heart, scanning the sea’s bare horizon with wet eyes.” Only Odysseus’ knowledge of the past- his longing for Ithaka, Penelope, and Telemakhos- keeps him alive; and only the responsibility he takes for that knowledge rescues him from Kalypso’s pointless life of pleasure.” (David Hicks, Norms and Nobility, p. 51)