The World Needs Ditch-Diggers Too

My definition of a great educator is a person who can teach a student how to do something that the student would not otherwise be able to do or learn on their own. I had many good teachers throughout my childhood, people that worked hard and challenged me and my classmates. The one person who still stands out today in my mind as great was a smart, surly and sarcastic math genius named Bob Clark.

 

Mr. Clark's smarts were off the charts. I passed those upper level math classes only because of him, plain and simple. If Mr. Clark knew a student was willing to work,  he didn't let them give up or fail. His surliness was mostly bravado - but definitely by design, keeping students on their toes as well as adding to his reputation. The truth behind Mr. Clark's bluster was that he cared very deeply about his students and his subject. The sarcasm, however, was genuine and undoubtedly what his students remember most about Mr. Clark.

 

One particular scene played out in his classroom day after day, month after month, year after year. Mr. Clark used only two teaching tools - an overhead projector and wet-erase markers. Every class period of every day his hands would slowly turn blue and red and green and black - as he relentlessly worked through math problems on a transparency - solving them, then wiping off one set of numbers after another. He would tackle one student's question at a time, but doing it in such a way that everyone learned from his explaining. The consistent level of concentration from most students in his classroom created an almost intimate atmosphere - one in which real learning took place.

 

Heaven help the student however, who tried to out-sarcasm the Master. One refrain has echoed across the decades, repeated fondly by Mr. Clark's former students whether they graduated in the 1960's or 1990's. Picture the scene:

 

You are nodding off or have fallen asleep in Mr. Clark's class (an epic, monumental mistake). In a not so subtle fashion, he rouses you awake and loudly announces, "Don't worry insert last name here, keep sleeping - the world needs ditch-diggers too." You are embarrassed. Kids are laughing, and not at Mr. Clark. In six simple words he has struck at the heart of the matter - that if you don't try or care enough about your own education there is a joyless, back-breaking job waiting for you. The world needs ditch-diggers too.  

 

I have been a teacher now for 17 years. Adulthood, and having one job for this long, has been its own education. Specifically, working with kids every day has taught me that Mr. Clark was so right, but in ways both intentional and inadvertent. He nailed it - ability does not trump effort - and Mr. Clark demanded effort, knowing that consistently trying meant success in whatever way a person chooses to measure it. Simple math, really.

 

But for all of the scorn that was implied in Mr. Clark's unforgettable line, he also didn't know how right he was (actually he probably did). We are not created equal. For all of my multi-syllabic word use (including multi-syllabic), I still don't know how to change the oil in my car or cut a tree down with a chainsaw so it doesn't come crashing down on me or how to properly load a gun. With effort, yes, I could learn and overcome my lack of ability. But I don't want to - which is the point.

 

I believe education serves two functions. The first is tangible - learning concepts and skills that can be applied to life and future learning. In this realm, students identify areas of interest they might one day turn into professional pursuits. The second function is much more elusive but probably a greater indicator of employability. Learning - at its core - is a marathon, an endurance race in which a student's primary competition is one's self. There is a start and a finish to all levels of schooling, and effort matters. You have to persevere - train long, run hard. No shortcuts. Bob Clark knew that. His signature line was never a knock on ditch-diggers, but rather a persistent lack of effort that might lead a person to fall into a bottomless pit of a job in which one's self-respect is unrecoverable.

 

I'm guessing he also knew that traditional schooling is not for everyone. Unfortunately, Education (with a capital E) has sold the American people the false premise that states, "Everyone can go to a four-year university." Yes, everyone can. No, everyone shouldn't. The result has been hordes of baristas and sandwich artists living with mom and dad while paying down their $500 a month student loans with only B.A.'s in Political Science and Art History to show for it but no real skills. Yikes - default here they come.

No, we may not be a manufacturing haven anymore. I get that. Those jobs went west and east a long time ago and won't be coming back. But as our national infrastructures continue to deteriorate, we are a country in desperate need of skilled workers. Such skills aren't acquired by attending a liberal arts college. They come from getting direct technical training and practical field experience. There is no shame in that. If there is there certainly shouldn't be.

But either way - whether it is a white collar profession or a blue collar job - effort trumps ability, in attitude, application and outlook. I'm sure that's why Bob Clark always wore his devilish, knowing grin when he spoke with a twinkle in his eye and said, "The world needs ditch-diggers too, Bergman. The world needs ditch-diggers too."