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Ditch the Eduspeak and try using English
OPINION
By Ray Weikal
Back in the day, shortly before getting hitched and between bouts of college, I worked for a builders’ supply warehouse in eastern Iowa, slinging’ lumber and making deliveries with a flatbed GMC.
It was honest work. I’ll never forget the day I unloaded about 300 50-pound packs of shingles during an ice storm on a slick metal deck. Actually, that happened more than once.
As hard as it was, as muddy, hot, cold, painful and exhausting as it was, I’m occasionally nostalgic for that time in my life.
For one thing, the men I worked with were straightforward. They were tough and hard working and crude and drove the new guys mercilessly. But I worked hard and did my part, didn’t take offense too easily, and eventually earned their respect.
One of my foremen was Eric, called “Little E” because he was smaller than the other Eric — also a foreman — a sizeable man known cleverly as “Big E.”
Little E was a Viking with red hair and thick beard. In the winter, he’d disappear in thick hunter’s overalls and orange ski cap, roam the yard and mumbled out monosyllabic commands to his crew.
One time, early on a blindingly cold morning, Little E hopped into the black seat of his orange skid loader and turned the key. Nothing. He tried again. Still nothing.
“The f---ing f---er is f---ed!” he yelled, pounding the steering wheel. It was the first time I realized that particular word could be used for every part of a complete sentence. It was perfect, efficient communication, in five words. I still marvel at it.
So all this was on my wondering mind the other night while I attended a North Kansas City Schools Board of Education meeting.
In the middle of a largely indecipherable presentation by administrators about an ongoing efficiency study, Board member Terry Ward asked a straightforward question about who should be held responsible for the performance of our schools. There were answers, I think, but none of them were as clear as Ward’s question.
I’m on the record that I think we have great schools and great educators in the Northland. But one thing I think they need to work on is talking about things in a way that make sense to us mere mortals.
When in groups of three or more, almost all educators I know revert to a professional lingo known among education reporters as “Eduspeak.” I’ve been covering education for awhile now, and I’ve gotten fairly good at translating Eduspeak in to English. But I still find myself completely flummoxed on a regular basis during school board meetings.
So, if I’m confused, what about the folks that pay the bills, the taxpayers?
I understand that at some level technical language is needed to describe complex issues. But too often, professionalese like Eduspeak becomes a bulwark for bureaucracy. Things that appear negative in plain language can be made to seem OK when couched in technical terms.
These days, when taxpayers are more sensitive than ever to government bloat and mismanagement, what we need is more straight talk from our public educators. If our schools are going to get the support they need to succeed, people need to know what’s working, what’s failing and who is accountable.
A couple of days after the North Kansas City Schools Board of Education meeting, I cornered Deputy Superintendent Todd White — the man who will take over the district next year — and reiterated Ward’s question.
“Who is responsible?” White asked. “Well, I am.”
Good. That’s an honest answer. Little E would be proud.
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By Ray Weikal
Back in the day, shortly before getting hitched and between bouts of college, I worked for a builders’ supply warehouse in eastern Iowa, slinging’ lumber and making deliveries with a flatbed GMC.
It was honest work. I’ll never forget the day I unloaded about 300 50-pound packs of shingles during an ice storm on a slick metal deck. Actually, that happened more than once.
As hard as it was, as muddy, hot, cold, painful and exhausting as it was, I’m occasionally nostalgic for that time in my life.
For one thing, the men I worked with were straightforward. They were tough and hard working and crude and drove the new guys mercilessly. But I worked hard and did my part, didn’t take offense too easily, and eventually earned their respect.
One of my foremen was Eric, called “Little E” because he was smaller than the other Eric — also a foreman — a sizeable man known cleverly as “Big E.”
Little E was a Viking with red hair and thick beard. In the winter, he’d disappear in thick hunter’s overalls and orange ski cap, roam the yard and mumbled out monosyllabic commands to his crew.
One time, early on a blindingly cold morning, Little E hopped into the black seat of his orange skid loader and turned the key. Nothing. He tried again. Still nothing.
“The f---ing f---er is f---ed!” he yelled, pounding the steering wheel. It was the first time I realized that particular word could be used for every part of a complete sentence. It was perfect, efficient communication, in five words. I still marvel at it.
So all this was on my wondering mind the other night while I attended a North Kansas City Schools Board of Education meeting.
In the middle of a largely indecipherable presentation by administrators about an ongoing efficiency study, Board member Terry Ward asked a straightforward question about who should be held responsible for the performance of our schools. There were answers, I think, but none of them were as clear as Ward’s question.
I’m on the record that I think we have great schools and great educators in the Northland. But one thing I think they need to work on is talking about things in a way that make sense to us mere mortals.
When in groups of three or more, almost all educators I know revert to a professional lingo known among education reporters as “Eduspeak.” I’ve been covering education for awhile now, and I’ve gotten fairly good at translating Eduspeak in to English. But I still find myself completely flummoxed on a regular basis during school board meetings.
So, if I’m confused, what about the folks that pay the bills, the taxpayers?
I understand that at some level technical language is needed to describe complex issues. But too often, professionalese like Eduspeak becomes a bulwark for bureaucracy. Things that appear negative in plain language can be made to seem OK when couched in technical terms.
These days, when taxpayers are more sensitive than ever to government bloat and mismanagement, what we need is more straight talk from our public educators. If our schools are going to get the support they need to succeed, people need to know what’s working, what’s failing and who is accountable.
A couple of days after the North Kansas City Schools Board of Education meeting, I cornered Deputy Superintendent Todd White — the man who will take over the district next year — and reiterated Ward’s question.
“Who is responsible?” White asked. “Well, I am.”
Good. That’s an honest answer. Little E would be proud.