By Rick Stephens, Editor-in-Chief, All Habs Hockey Magazine
MONTREAL, QC — Let’s take a break from talking about hockey. My background is in higher education, specifically mathematics. Today I wanted to share with you a story told to me by a parent of a high school student.
The University of Waterloo has one of the premiere Mathematics faculties on the continent. And each Spring they hold a competition for the best of the best. The Euclid Mathematics Contest is a grueling 2.5 hour exam that poses ten extremely challenging questions. Winning an award is extremely prestigious.
Well, there was one advanced high school class that began the school year with the goal of winning the ultimate prize. They were led by a teacher of average ability but he was very popular with about half of the parents, and most importantly, was best buddies with the principal.
The group had a real international flavor, wasn’t overly laden with talent but seemed to work very well together in their problem-solving tasks. But this group had an ace-in-the-hole. He was a student who could put the entire team on his back and almost single-handedly help them win the competition.
With the Euclid about eight months away, the class worked in earnest meeting in a study group and writing pre-contest tests all led by their star pupil.
The early results were like none this school and their parents had ever seen before. When asked the teacher simply said that his students were performing the “right way.” And he called his star student “phenomenal.”
Were they a lock for the Euclid Award? Too early to tell. But parents began planning a parade just in case.
But then something happened.
The star student would be away from the school for a few weeks. He was experiencing migraines. How many days would he miss? How would this affect the class? And what about their chances for the competition?
The principal tried to calm fears saying, “What he needs is rest and treatment. It will take as long as it takes.”
The principal also expressed confidence in the rest of the class.
“We’ll see what the character of this group is,” said the principal. I believe in our character, and every class in the country goes through periods without key students. There’s no need for us to panic over this.”
And for a short time, they were okay.
But at the first sign of a struggle, the teacher panicked. He started changing the seating arrangements in the room. He even sent some of the students from the advanced class out into the hall.
Strong students were dispersed. Weaker students were placed in key positions. The chemistry of the group and the momentum were lost.
In a curious move he brought his favorite student to the front of the class and devoted the majority of his lesson and study time to him. He was not among the most talented student. Truth be told, he probably belonged in the remedial math class. But he was short, cute and had got along famously with the teacher for years.
Well, with the teacher’s pet leading the study group the results of the subsequent pre-contest exams started to drop. Not a little. But drastically.
The teacher changed the seating plan in the class again. The principal even recruited a few students from a neighboring school.
Nothing seemed to help.
Confidence was shattered.
The teacher had his system. He vowed not to make any changes. He said that his teaching methodology had worked at the beginning of the year. And he was going to continue using it until it worked again.
More pre-contest exams. More dismal failures. And more stubbornness from the teacher.
In fact, it was the worst set of results in 76 years for this proud school. The parents had endured enough. They saw their once promising school year slipping away.
They began to speak out publicly.
Some were critical of the principal. He really had a knack for bringing in students to fill the remedial classes. Their ranks were in fact, overflowing.
His track record at recruiting top students was dismal.
But the majority of the heat was directed at the teacher of the advanced class. Was he truly dedicated to bringing home a Euclid? It was clear that this was not the worst crop of pupils in 76 years. Was he the right educator who could get the best out of these talented students?
As a professional educator did he not have more teaching techniques at his disposal that moving around the desks in the classroom?
With pressure mounting, the principal felt the need to hold a meeting with the parents in the school gym.
While question after question focused on the incompetence of the teacher and his methods, the principal told the group that his teacher wasn’t going anywhere. The principal invited disgruntled parents to direct the barbs his way. “It’s on me,” he said.
Little risk in making a statement like that. The principal had just been given a 7-year addition to his contract by the school board. He was safe for the long-term and now had extended his cloak of immunity to protect the teacher, his friend.
It was unclear whether the two ever had any combat experience. But whispers spread through the gymnasium that the two had once shared a foxhole.
The principal’s apologists applauded his courage to call a meeting. Faux accountability was the reaction from most of the parents. It required no courage from him when there was nothing to lose.
The parents were reminded that the principal’s job was really, really hard. He hadn’t been able to find any students to help the class. The principal showed the parents his phone bills as proof that he was on the job for them.
Parents in the back of the room scoffed. The ‘I’m trying hard’ had never worked for their kids when it came time for report cards.
There was one pupil with raw talent. He wasn’t liked much by the teacher so wasn’t allowed to attend the study group nor write any of the tests. The parents had hoped for an exchange, maybe bringing in a student who could help the advanced class. Someone who was acceptable to the teacher’s narrow preferences. Instead, the principal arranged a swap bringing in a couple of pupils for the remedial class.
‘A joke’ many called it. Worse than that the school was being called ‘the laughing stock’ in the math community.
Another disappointment. When asked why, the principal said that the reason was super, super secret. “I made an exchange that, at the time, I had to make that exchange, so I have some reason I can’t really tell you why.”
If the bizarre exchange wasn’t already being questioned, this explanation sealed it.
Even his most ardent supporters winced when the principal took a shot at the performance on the practice test in October. As a way of dampening the shock of the current dismal showing, the principal said that the students really didn’t deserve the early grades.
As if it wasn’t already enough for parent’s to absorb, the principal also announced that the star pupil would be out about another month. The migraines continued. “I don’t have exactly a date, but I don’t think it’ll be before another three weeks. Maybe even a month. We don’t have a timeframe,” said the principal.
Sigh. The parents were despondent.
The class was going nowhere. The teacher refused to try any new methods. The principal was being questioned for his lack of action. Was his popularity and free ride simply based on his snappy suits and good humour?
~~~
I wish this story had a happy ending. I wish I could tell you that the star pupil returned in time to turn the school year around.
I wish that the teacher was fired, replaced by one who was committed to get the best from every one of his pupils.
I wish that the principal valued the success of his students more than bonds of an old friend.
I wish that the school board ran an organization that was based on a meritocracy rather than political correctness.
And lastly, I sincerely wish that the parents rose up and demanded better from a school which, while once the class of the educational community, hadn’t enjoyed success for a very, very long time.
Until then, there will be no more Euclids. Parents, students and alumni will have to be satisfied with looking at dusty old banners of past wins in the school’s glass display case.