I visited a 6th grade class . . .

I visited sixth grade for one morning in October. Told kids that my name was “Gerry.” After the Pledge of Alliance, we studied "estimating," a lesson from the thick text. Must have been a review; kids were pretty quick to answer. I looked at a problem: four big, odd numbers, which (with a little rounding up and down) yielded an answer of 4000. My granddaughter waited patiently for me to come up with the answer. All but one of the 18 in the room (I heard two were absent) seemed to be ready for the next day’s quiz.

The kids seemed to like their teacher, a veteran, a pro. The lesson was over and we lined up for the walk to the computer lab down the hall.

Signs advocating "Tiger Pride" were everywhere: Pride, respect, etc. Kids seem to have gotten the message. I straightened my spine to hold my head up a little higher, with dignity, you know, pride.

Next stop was the computer room, where each kid had a seat in front of a desktop PC. This was to be a lesson in web-based research, aiming to garner info about a student's favorite singer – Taylor Swift, in my granddaughter's case. Answers to questions and conclusions were recorded in a separate piece of web-based software that allowed students to collect their work in a kind of scrapbook with pictures and prose. I was impressed.

Where was this when I was a kid? I made a note to suggest this software to colleagues in my memoir-writers class.

Class over. Save work. Shut down. Line up. Tiger Pride. Move to next room – this time a geography/science lesson with another teacher. Hands-on, engaging, working in teams: the right stuff. “Heads up; pay attention,” she said. There's an aide to help slower kids keep pace.

We were working with both topographical and aerial maps of a mountain range. Kids helped each other find information and explain stuff. If one had a question and another an answer, they hooked up. If necessary the teacher answered questions too hard for the team. This left me behind; I didn't have the vocabulary. I couldn't help much; my major was English.

No giggling, poking ribs or wandering eyes (like me in my 6th grade 50 years ago). The task was interesting and the kids put real effort into completing the assignment. As a grandpa, I was impressed.

One boy asked, "How ya doing, Gerry"? The kid was sincere. I answered, "Fine, when do we get a bathroom break"?

Am I really in the sixth grade? There must really be something to this "Tiger Pride." Add, "helpful," "courteous," and "sincere" to the Tiger list.

Next class is in a different computer class, different teacher. I'm now getting the picture; sixth grade is departmentalized, not self-contained like the 1st grade I'd visited a couple weeks earlier. In this room - again each kid in front of a desktop PC - kids were set up for math drill using an older, but sophisticated l program. The problems weren't easy, but age appropriate, and timed, I think.

If I was following this right, a new problem popped up, even though the prior one had not been fully completed. My granddaughter didn't have time to explain it to me. Don't know if the computer gave partial credit for partial answers. Grandpa - me - saw kids who liked math, for whom it was easy, a game. They flew through the problems. Others didn't fly, but I think the session gave teachers data about which kids needed more help. I would have been on that list.

The last class was the one I liked best. We were back with our main teacher whose morning, while we roamed, was spent teaching other kids other lessons. (The departmental thing, remember?). Now we were novice archeologists. The teacher had us set our desks in teams of four. Each team got a box of "midden" (a new vocabulary word for me). There were five teams, five boxes of midden (artifacts from a person or place), and we were to sleuth out the identity of the person whose midden was in the boxes.

We (I'm a team member by now) examine each artifact, discuss its implications and record our inferences on our worksheet. Then we rotate to a new box, all retrieved from the same dig. Just like on CSI on TV. It looks to me like our subject is female, late 20th century, and a music fan. Too quickly, the class time is over. We'll take up the research tomorrow, except I won't be back. Maybe my granddaughter will reveal the subject's identity to me later.

Finally, a bathroom break. Wash hands thoroughly. More Tiger Pride. Off to lunch where I choose a corn dog, mixed vegetables, and apricots. My new friend asks me if I need any help. I do: "Where do we put the trays"?

I'm done for the day, ready to leave. I'm tired. "Do I get a hug?"

I get a hug. Out the door leaving the sixth graders to the second half of their day - reading and writing, art and music, etc. Stop at Casey's for coffee to sustain me on my drive home. School is work, but fun too.

In the car I listen to the news. The governor has just rolled out a new plan to make schools world-class. I'd just left a school: average town, average kids (except for my exceptional granddaughter, of course). But, was the school world-class? Sure seemed like the kids were learning important stuff - estimating, web-based research, map reading and teamwork, math drill and archeology (not to mention the Tiger Pride). Don't know if those are on the state's test, or not.

Since I was listening to public radio, I got more detail; just enough to know that the world-class blueprint aimed to improve teachers, change pay practices, upgrade standards and accountability, and encourage innovation. The reporter said there would be new, yet-to-be calculated costs to implement the changes, which seemed a lot like changes called for by prior governors and commissions. Teachers, the reporter said, were opposed to more standardized testing, and some felt the plan unfairly singled them out. If these sixth-grade teachers or their students could work any harder, I don't know how.

I guess there's more to know now than when I was a youngster. They say that for our economy's sake, there’s urgency that kids learn more, more quickly, be world-class. When you add a piano lesson, a dance lesson and Lego League to the sixth grade curriculum, plus a sport, you've got a kid on a pretty steep learning curve. How hard can you push young minds and bodies?

Heard it might be good to hold kids who can't read back in third grade. An idea, but by state law? The image of a 10-year old in third grade hung in my mind. The 10-year old might have actually learned to read by third grade if his parents and other community folks were more involved in his learning. Crazy thought, I know, but there are many roads to world-class; it takes a village.

I came away from my half-day thinking a good start on reform would be helping teachers be tech savvy, and making sure schools are modern, in good repair and appealing to kids. I envision schools that are more like beehives than assembly lines.

I hope districts can continue to attract quality teachers, and keep them. Good principals too, plus I like it that classes are small, and I’d put in more technology so learning could be more personalized (customized) to each kid's needs. Just crazy thoughts, I know.