Efficient Toward What?

I have been thinking about efficiency in public education … and now I am wondering if I am trying to be efficient myself, or if I expect efficiency from my students, my admin, or the larger public education system … or all of the above. And efficient toward what? I started thinking I might write about this and immediately decided it should be less than a two-minute read, which is kind of funny. Am I trying to make my wondering efficient for whoever is willing to read it? SOOOO … apparently I have questions.

I think this started with the idea that efficiency has its place in public education but there is some magic in the messy, inefficient process of building a classroom community. Yesterday I was pretty inefficient setting up a See-Sign-Write activity. I could have told everyone exactly where to sit and probably gotten us started faster, but instead we went slow so they could figure some of it out. Go slow to go fast. I also stopped what I was doing to tell them their frustration is their superpower … and then told them their frustration is the manure the seeds of their skills and knowledge are growing in. Ha ha. That is certainly NOT in my curriculum. But if they can figure out how and when and where communication broke down, that is pure gold in learning ASL. So was I wasting instructional time or teaching them how to eventually need me less?

Even attendance has me thinking. It would be faster to read a name, hear “here,” mark the kid present and move on. Instead, especially early in the year, I say the name and look at the face. I am trying to connect 126-ish names with 126-ish actual humans. It takes longer TODAY … but knowing their names sooner makes me more efficient later. Maybe I am measuring efficiency across the wrong amount of time.

And then I walk into a class with 37 students and efficiency gets more complicated. I have been asked to add another student who needs additional support and I immediately wonder whether I can give him what he needs AND give the other students what they need. There is another student in that class with significant support needs and two paras. Yesterday a district specialist came too, so there were three additional adults working with him … and I noticed all three trying to learn ASL. Hmmm. If my teaching results in more adults around this kid being able to communicate with him, does that count? I think it does. It isn’t one of my learning targets and I don’t know how I would measure it. But it sure seems like a thing.

Meanwhile, I am apparently trying to make MYSELF efficient enough to fit into the school day. Today I used the bathroom when I didn’t really need to because I knew I wouldn’t be able to go later when I might actually need to. Same with eating. Once I started looking for efficiency I started seeing it everywhere.

But I actually LOVE efficiency when someone runs a meeting well. Keep us moving. Help someone land the plane. Figure out what we decided. Honor everybody’s time. I notice when someone is good at it … and I definitely notice when nobody is doing it.

So do my students notice that about me? Do they appreciate when I keep class rolling? Do they notice when I’ve lost the plot? Maybe some of the quiet kids need the structure and momentum and would NEVER tell me that. How would I know?

And am I sometimes rushing my students because I am trying to protect them from homework? Come on … let’s get this done. But what if one kid needs another minute? What if the conversation we’re having is useful? And what if another kid is sitting there thinking PLEASE can we move on?

I am NOT arguing that inefficiency is wonderful. Sometimes being more efficient simply means serving people better. And 37 students don’t become a beautiful messy community just because I decide to appreciate the mess. There are still 37 people who need something from one teacher.

Maybe efficiency isn’t always about doing something faster. Maybe it is about using the time we have well … which means deciding what “well” means. Sometimes it might mean letting a conversation breathe. Sometimes it might mean looking a kid in the face while I take attendance. And sometimes it might mean … okay, we’ve got it. Moving on.

So I keep circling back to where I started … efficient toward what? For whom? Over what amount of time? And who pays for that efficiency?

I don’t think I am finished thinking about this yet. I’m certainly not done overthinking it.

Which is probably why this took longer than two minutes to read.