SECTION 1 - via - School of Visual Arts

(whichever “them” is most handy at the time) and such an admission reinforces the entrenched
fatalism that paralyzes us.
To all this fatalistic abdication of responsibility, Socrates says, “nonsense”. Perhaps that’s too
liberal a translation from the Greek. What he did say though (which roughly translates to
“nonsense”) is, “what a society values, that it will cultivate”. Read carefully; he didn’t say
society would try to cultivate its values or make a sincere effort to cultivate its values. He said it
would cultivate those values, period. Basically, Socrates would have very little patience with the
pseudo-reform movements in education because they are mere movements of subterfuge
designed to cover the fact that what we have is really what we want. If we didn’t want it, we
wouldn’t have it. What we have has been scrupulously cultivated and is therefore the product
of what we value. If we valued something different badly enough, we would cultivate something
different. This stage of fatalism in colleges of education is a caricature of the oldest medical
joke in history—the patient says to the doctor, “it hurts when I do this”, to which the doctor
replies, “well stop doing that”. We in education bemoan our fate, and talk about all the things
that don’t work. To which any sensible observer would remark, “well stop doing those things
and try something else” (having colleges of education begin a civilizing dialogue with our
future teachers concerning the fine arts and humanities would certainly seem to fit this call to
“try something else” quite nicely). But the call to try something else is usually met with a sigh
and a mumbled reply stating, but “they” won’t let us.
Proceeding ever downward to the uncivilized existential vacuum from planlessness, to fatalism,
we now encounter the third stage—conformism. Colleges of education are uncommonly fond of
pseudo-intellectual fads. From new math, to whole language, to assertive discipline, to learning
styles, to right brain/left brain thinking, to transformational grammar, to cooperative learning,
the list goes on and on. Perhaps many of these fads have worthwhile pieces to add to a quality
educational experience for our future teachers. But rarely are they treated as the potential
minor step in the right direction, which surely could be their only claim. Rather, they are
treated as some sort of magical panacea that will instantaneously transform colleges of
education into an intellectual Valhalla if only enough disciples will convert and conform to
whatever fad is popular at that moment. An astute observer would note that it is rare when
such clarion calls for converts are not rewarded with conforming multitudes. Books will be
written, workshops will be held, and Continuing Education credits will be offered to all who
will embrace whatever fad has gained momentary popularity. After a brief period of time, the
disciples will wander off, blank faced, in search of the next pseudo-intellectual epiphany, and
one is reminded of the Miltonic quote so frequently repeated by Robert M. Hutchins, “the
sheep look up, but are not fed” (1968, p. 115).
When caught in this web of conformity, Frankl (1975) noted that we publicly (and
institutionally) echo Schopenhauer’s admonition that “we seem eternally condemned to
vacillate between the two extremes of want and boredom” (p. 169). We are like children in that
we see a new toy, and we can’t live without it. We know that when we get it, we will be fulfilled
and happy. But after ten minutes with the new toy, we realize that it really wasn’t what we
wanted after all, and so we search for a new magic toy to enchant us. Such shallow
enchantment is always ephemeral, and it never quite satisfies as we thought it would. We want,
we get, we become quickly bored with our new found fad and then, “herdlike”, we move off in
search for the next educational salvation just appearing on the horizon (trust me, there’s always
one there).
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