Sometimes the best way to see what might be coming is to have a close look at what has come before. In the Spring, 2020 edition of Historical Studies in Education, independent scholar Reesa Sorin published an article entitled Sputnik’s Children: History of the Major Work Program in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Schools 1954-1972.
The short story is that, partially in response to the worry that intellectually advanced students were not being sufficiently challenged in mainstream classrooms, Winnipeg School Division No. 1 created a series of separate “Major Work” classes for gifted students in the hopes that these would better “challenge their capacities to the full, and [would] result in the continuation of their education beyond high school.” This innovation took place within the larger North American context which saw the implementation of “gifted education” as a necessary response to the perceived threat of Russian superiority.
In addition to doing an excellent job of illuminating the historical context and substantive approach of Winnipeg’s Major Work program, Sorin introduces a number of more general themes that have clear applicability in our current deliberations about the next generation of schools.
She points out, for example, that the cycle of educational reform historically see-saws back and forth between a “society-centered” and “child-centered” approach. The turn toward gifted education emerged, in part, from a society-centered concern that we were not getting the most out of our intellectually-gifted students, particularly in comparison to our Russian counterparts. Sorin quotes historian Jeffrey Herold who proposes that, “When the society finds itself in need of certain kinds of personnel … humanistic pretences are thrown to the wind in the interests of grinding out manpower.” She herself adds that, “Children become a commodity to be used for the purposes of the nation, rather than beings considered as humans with needs and desires.”
Secondly, Sorin illuminates an age-old structural problem in pointing to the tensions that inevitably emerge in the debate between segregating and integrating different kinds of learners. The major work initiative was definitely a case of segregating out a distinct group of learners in a (mostly successful) attempt to enhance their learning experience. This approach eventually ran headlong into mounting critiques of IQ testing (which had been used to identify candidates for the program) and an emerging sensibility to provide “equal opportunity for all”.
In reviewing the instructional methods of the Major Work teachers, Sorin reveals many of the program elements and methodologies that some believe are just now being discovered for the first time. She describes, for example, a program that was “meant to be flexible and experiential, with no fixed way of teaching” and of “learning that was enriched by various activities, based on student interests and teachers’ skills.” She explained that students regularly gave oral presentations about topics they had researched, and described the importance of the “Reading Club”, which was explicitly designed to enable students to eventually assume leadership responsibilities within the group. What is interesting and important about Sorin’s historical account is that when the reform cycle shifted away from a society-centered approach to a child-centered focus, there was a decided effort to transplant many of the Major Work teaching elements and methodologies back into the now-integrated “mainstream” classroom.
What might Sorin’s research tell us about how to proceed into the next generation of schooling? A few things, I think.
The first is that we need to be philosophically conscious and intentional about what purposes we think our schools are meant to serve. Must schools always look upon students as “human capital” that need to be developed in the interest of society as a whole? (What version of “human capital” do our current schools implicitly or explicitly endorse?) Is child-centered education simply a matter of catering to individual interests and desires, no matter how narrow those might be? Or can we flesh out those “humanistic pretences” and “human needs and desires” in a way that would allow us to imagine a deeper and richer purpose for schools?
Second, most of us probably recognize that we have within our grasp the opportunity to overcome the tension between segregated and integrated learning to give all students a worthwhile education. Provided we are willing to significantly change the operational architecture of our schools -- class cohorts, instructional timetables, program elements, assessment practices, etc. -- we are now within striking range of creating a school system that could actually deliver on our deeper and richer aspirations.
And finally, Sorin’s account of the Major Work teaching methodology underlines that we already know what we need to do. The Major Work teachers knew what they needed to do back in the 50’s and 60’s, and since that time, there have been countless other exemplars that collectively point us in the right direction. The real challenge for us now is to have the courage of our convictions and follow through on doing what we know needs to be done.
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Reference: Ressa Sorin, Sputnik’s Children: History of Major Work Program in Winnipeg, Manitoba, Schools, 1965-1972, Historical Studies in Education 32, 1 Spring 2020, 89-111.
Ted Spear has over 25 years of teaching and administrative experience in public and independent schools. In July, 2019 he published a book about the future of education entitled, Education Reimagined: The Schools Our Children Need. He is an engaging speaker who invites parents and educators to change the way we think about schools.