Mr. Chip gets a chip: How teaching is changing

One of my favorite movies was the 1939 film, “Goodbye, Mr. Chips,” the story of a teacher in a small private school in England, based on James Hilton’s 1934 novel which tells the story of a somewhat stern but loved teacher, Mr. Chipping.

But it’s his death bed scene that forms for me the real reason to teach.

On his death bed, Chipping hears some friends talking about him, wondering if he regrets never having children, to which he replies: “I thought you said it was a pity, a pity I never had any children. But you’re wrong. I have! Thousands of ’em, thousands of ’em....”

I love teaching. It’s in my blood. It is what I was called to be and do, whether in a classroom or sitting here at my laptop writing this column. It’s learning that excites me, whether holding a published book in my hands or seeing the light go on in a student’s eyes as she understands something.

But the truth is that these great moments of insights are rare. Behind each one are many hours of preparation.

What Thomas Edison said about his work is also true about good teaching: It’s 1 percent inspiration and 99 percent perspiration.

But teaching isn’t what it used to be and that’s the hard, cold reality today. It’s gotten routinized and mechanized. It has become more focused on how people learn than what. A lot of it is shown on a screen, not a blackboard.

More and more college courses are being taught online. That trend will continue. I’ve read some of the research about whether students learn as well online as in class, and the results seem inconclusive to me. I’ve heard educators talk about how online learning is the key to the future, but I am not convinced.

And my suspicion is that while administrators laud online education, it is not just about learning but the bottom line, saving money.

I fear we are getting away from one of the most important reasons for education— to learn how to think and relate to others. Learning is relational; it requires that we relate to one another in a group, accept differ- ences, and grow.

I remember a few years ago, seeing three of my students in the hallway, cell phones to their ears. When I asked why, one responded: “We’re texting each other.”

When I asked why they just didn’t talk to each other, another said: “That’s just not how we do it these days,” making me feel like Mr. Chips in another century.

If the brave new world of education is learning online, I am not resigned nor hopeful. I might be a dinosaur in a world of chatrooms, but I’d rather sit with people in one room where we can see and hear and talk with one another, not be disembodied spirits sitting at home watching someone lecture.

I have a solution that carries the current impetus for online learning to its extreme.

Why not just do away with pouring more money into buildings, like gyms and football stadiums, and instead plant a computer chip into everyone’s brains, which includes everything they will need to know throughout their lives?

Then, Mr. Chips will have a chip — as will everyone else. It will then be George Orwell’s “1984” on steroids, and hopefully I won’t be around to see it. Or, for all I know, I am already gone and just a chip off the old block myself.