Old Hands and Starfish

Tonight, for our Monday evening class session, our class was lucky enough to be visited by Mr. Steve Chambliss, who is a forty year veteran to education. The story of his career was unconventional to be sure. After Mr. Chambliss finished his undergraduate, and then his masters degree, he went to work in Carpentersville, Illinois, which is a suburb of Chicago.

Mr. Chambliss's background is typical for a modern Luther student. He had a small town upbringing, and went to a modestly sized school. I was expecting him to mention that after his move to the suburbs, he experienced his fair amount of culture shock. You can say that it shocked me when Mr. Chambliss said that working in the city suburbs was the "biggest mistake of [his] life", but that would be an understatement.

Mr. Chambliss went on to explain this statement, stating that he "wasn't prepared to help so many" and that the amount of poverty he had to handle was too much for him in his early career. This is a reasonable story, and understandable. He bit off more than he could chew for his first big gig. However, throughout his conversation with us, he cites more instances about how students from impoverished families have trouble making good decisions because they didn't have the same upbringing as the typical small-town middle classer. He even went on to say "Public schools in metropolitan areas have failed and can't be rescued". I apologize if I generalize Mr. Chambliss's message too broadly, but overall, he seemed to be suggesting that more money in the schools equals better kids. This is incorrect. More money in schools means more opportunities for kids like organized sport teams, band, or other extra-curriculars, but that does not mean that better quality people come out of those schools. As a kid who grew up in Chicago, I take offense to the suggestion that city kids don't know how to deal with the real world just because their elementary school didn't have a soccer team.

There's an old story here that rang in my head as soon as Mr. Chambliss, while on the subject of poor public schools, said these words: "You can't save everybody". Please excuse my segue as I retell that story here.

There's an old man and several young children on the beach, playing in the water. Time passes, and the tide recedes, exposing hundreds upon hundreds of starfish to the sun. The children know that the starfish will die within a few minutes of being exposed to the open sun, so the children immediately begin to pick up as many starfish as they can and throw them back into the ocean. The old man stops one of them and says that their work is pointless, that the children will never be able to save all of the starfish on the beach. However, the children work on, with a smile, knowing that while they cannot save every starfish, they make a difference with every fish they save. This is the attitude that we need to approach education with. In education, there is always hope, and there is always a noble cause.

Mr. Chambliss went on to say that after his urban experience, including the turbulent era where whites and blacks were sharing a classroom for the first time, he decided he would go back to Decorah to become the superintendant for the Winnesheik county public schools. He explained that after such an intense experience, he needed to be back in an environment he was comfortable with. There is only one part of this that I feel I need to pick apart. Mr. Chambliss explained that being out of one's comfort zone was a wonderful thing, and that it more than anything makes an educator grow professionally. If this is true, why would Mr. Chambliss move to a place like Decorah, a town just like what he's used to?

Perhaps teaching during such a tough time can wear a person out. Perhaps a person does require a change of pace every so often. Mr. Chambliss's advice was wonderful and helpful, but some of his own actions required some closer examination. I respect him and thank him very much for his time, kind words, and patience with my prying questions. It is, after all, my job to ask them.