President Bush's goal of teaching "all" children has been given lip service by educators through the years. Unfortunately, we often make excuses about why a particular child hasn't been able to learn at the pace of the rest of the children in the class. Some teachers reason, "I taught it; he just didn't learn it." Or "If her parents would just cooperate!" Or "She came to my grade lacking the right skills. They just aren't teaching students what needs to be taught in the grades below mine."
Teaching "all" children means all children. It means the child who came to my 1st grade classroom from an undesirable environment, who, because he couldn't attend kindergarten, didn't even know how to hold a pair of scissors. It is the child who came to my 1st grade classroom already reading at the 3rd grade level. It is the child who, because of physical problems, had difficulty sitting in her chair. It is the child who said to me, "This book has the wrong answer" (and he was right). It is the child who questions everything she does for you because she wants to do everything "just right." It is the child who just doesn't know how to quit talking so he can listen.
As a young teacher I would marvel at one of the seasoned teachers in my school, Miss Mary Campbell Burnett. Then, I often wished that I could be a fly on the wall to observe this special teacher. Back in the 1970s, however, principals rarely allowed a teacher to give up class time to observe a master teacher in another classroom. Yet all of the teachers in that building and most of the community knew that if a child was in Miss Burnett's 1st grade classroom, he would leave 1st grade able to read well. No wonder all of the parents in the community wanted their children in her classroom. Miss Burnett worked with each child in the unique way that was needed. Morever, she always had the child's interests at heart, never expecting (or receiving) extra pay for tutoring a child after school when she realized that progress would not take place otherwise.
Early in the second semester, Miss Burnett would give her 1st grade students worksheets that duplicated the form of the questions on the readiness tests that were given in May to all 1st graders in the district. She taught test-taking skills long before it was suggested. Her students always did well. Miss Burnett knew how to teach all of her children. She showed by example that she truly believed that "all means all."
Miss Burnett didn't stop at teaching her students. She was a wonderful mentor—during planning time with other teachers or informally, whenever one of us had a problem. She taught all of us on her team, a group of five 1st grade teachers who had planning time together while our students went to music and physical education classes. Even today, her expert teaching manifests itself in one of the best kindergarten teachers in our district, who was fortunate enough to complete her student teaching with Miss Burnett. Teachers tend to believe that they influence only their students, but that wasn't the case with Miss Burnett.
One of Miss Burnett's strengths was that she knew how to differentiate instruction long before it became a buzzword. She and other great teachers knew how to adjust the curriculum when and where necessary. When some children didn't understand a concept, Miss Burnett would form a small group for extra tutoring. Those who still didn't understand would get one-on-one tutoring after school with her.
Differentiating instruction is absolutely necessary for teachers in the classroom today. In this world of so much readily available knowledge, we must help students concentrate on what they need to know. Perhaps more importantly, we must help them learn how to learn, how to think logically, and how to puzzle through problems, old and new. It is a hard task, but our goal is clear: We must learn what our students already know and use differentiated instruction to teach all of our students to be lifelong learners.