Planting the Seeds of Power and Purpose: A GoodWork™-inspired Introduction to Higher Education for First-Year Students

by Mary Katherine Duncan

For several months, my colleague (Dr. Jennifer Johnson) and I have been developing a GoodWork™-inspired Summer Reading Assignment and series of Freshman Orientation workshops for first-year (often, first generation) undergraduate students. We aim to welcome young women and men to our academic community by introducing them to the three Es of GoodWork™ and helping them to understand what it means to do GoodWork™ as persons, students, and citizens at Bloomsburg University of Pennsylvania. After several semesters of programming and assessment of campus-wide initiatives (e.g., Summer Reading Assignment, Freshman Orientation workshop, University Seminar discussion groups, and research studies), we felt as though we had a pretty good handle on what it means to do academic GoodWork™ (i.e., excellence, ethics, and engagement as a student). We were less confident, however, in our understanding of what it means to do GoodWork™ as a citizen of the University and how to share our understanding with young people who are entering our academic community.

Participation in the GoodWork™ Conference—Developing Responsible, Caring and Balanced Youth—was instrumental in helping us to think about what it means to be a good citizen in an academic community. Two programs stood out as especially relevant to our current initiative. During one of the conference’s interactive workshops, The Pedagogy of Power, Eric Liu described citizenship as “learning how to live well with others.” Eric asked workshop attendees to consider what citizens owe each other. After several exchanges, it became clear that we owe each other the best of ourselves; that is, a daily commitment to living a life consistent with our character strengths and virtues. Eric asserted that citizenship is about using these strengths (i.e., power) in service of “leaving the joint better.” It became clear that a GoodWork™-inspired Summer Reading Assignment and Freshman Orientation should afford students the opportunity to reflect on their power and how they might employ their strengths in service of the University.

Toward the end of the conference, Bill Damon offered a plenary session about young people’s search for purpose. Bill noted that most young people are searching for purpose and that young people tend to find purpose in their own way and in their own time. Again, as we thought about our role in welcoming the Class of 2017 to Bloomsburg University, we wondered how our academic community could best support young people as they journey along their paths to living purposeful lives. Bill pointed out that young people have to define purpose for themselves. They have to own it. It must be meaningful to them. He also noted that purpose must be of consequence to the world beyond the self. Very often, our students mistake personal goals (e.g., earning a high GPA, gaining admission to graduate school, being happy, getting rich) for purpose. It will be important for us to help students understand the difference between short-horizon, self-centered goals and long-horizon, other-focused purpose. Bill’s research suggests that useful strategies for supporting youth’s search for purpose include affording young people opportunities to learn more about the community or institution needs, to observe purposeful role models who are striving to meet these needs while exhibiting moral commitment, and to discover how they can employ their own strengths and abilities in service of meeting the identified needs.

With information and insight gleaned from the GoodWork™ conference, we proposed the second annual GoodWork™-inspired Summer Reading Assignment and Freshman Orientation program. More specifically, in partial fulfillment of the Summer Reading Assignment, incoming students will write a paper on how they would like to be remembered as persons, students, and citizens of the University on their graduation day in May 2017. This legacy paper will “plant the seed” for more reflective exercises and in-depth discussions during Freshman Orientation and throughout their years of undergraduate study. During Freshman Orientation, trained student leaders will introduce the three Es of GoodWork™ and share their own stories of pursuing GoodWork™ including discussions of factors that catalyzed, sustain, and challenge their commitment to doing GoodWork™ as persons, students, and citizens of the University. Student leaders also will engage first-year students in self-reflective exercises to begin the process of exploring character strengths, values, and cognitive competencies. In addition, student leaders will lead discussions about what the University and surrounding communities need and what can be done to meet those needs in order to encourage first-year students to begin thinking about how they can employ their scholarship and good character in service of the academic and broader communities. In addition to serving as role models, student leaders will escort first-year students to an Academic Resource Fair and a Student Activities Fair where they will introduce our newest citizens to faculty and staff role models who are pursuing lives of purpose while demonstrating moral commitment. Overall, we want our students to understand that their undergraduate studies are as much about figuring out what they want to do with their lives as discovering who they are and ascertaining what they have to offer, to whom, and how.

As we partner with the Office of Academic Affairs and the Office of Student Affairs to strengthen the culture of GoodWork™ at our University, we thank the good folks at Project Zero for organizing such a thought-provoking and inspiring conference.

Conference Reflections from a Classroom Teacher: Three Human Phenomena and the Three E’s of Good Work

by Amy Hoffman

Recently, I attended the first GoodWork conference at Noble and Greenbough School in Dedham, Massachusetts. Armed with and ready to present the elementary toolkit that I had been developing with my mother, Jo Hoffman, and Good Team members Margot Locker, Wendy Fischman, and Lynn Barendsen, I arrived on that very snowy Friday not sure what to expect. I had never presented at a conference before, but I had attended several – listened to interesting people, took notes, and walked away really the same as I had entered. I had no idea how my understanding of conferences and in fact, my ideas about teaching, were about to change.

I teach a 1st and 2nd grade multiage class at a small charter school in New Jersey, and for the past two years I have been working with my young students to develop their understandings of the basic principles of GoodWork. The students have been working hard exploring ethics, excellence, and engagement through hands-on activities and class discussions. I start each year with the students by exploring the definitions of the 3 “E’s” through word mapping, looking for examples through children’s literature and narratives written for the toolkit, and ending with activities during which students write their own narratives and role-play that work. Students have benefitted from the activities, participating happily, and their understanding of concepts related to the 3 E’s has evolved since the beginning of the school year.  Nonetheless, after reflecting about my experiences at the conference, I began to formulate an idea for another entry point to explore and deepen their connections to the essence of the 3 E’s and being human.

During his plenary session at the GoodWork Conference, Esa Saarinen (philosopher and professor at Aalto University in Finland) spoke about “Three Human Phenomena”- Being Present, Being-By-Your-Sideness, and Magical Uplift- concepts that were new to me but resonated deeply.  In listening to Esa speak and reflecting on this conversation, I started thinking about how these concepts can and should be brought into my classroom and how they fit into our conversation about GoodWork.

As Howard Gardner once relayed to me, it’s not about the students memorizing definitions but really being able to model GoodWork and recognize it in the behavior of others. My question is: how can these “three human phenomena” be leveraged and woven into the discussion about GoodWork to assist students in synthesizing their understandings of its concepts and help them to better understand their social world and their responsibilities to our community?

When I returned to my classroom, I reflected on this question and started with myself. How might I be a better teacher as a result of what I’d learned?  I have been working with the elementary toolkit for 2 years now and we keep the discussion of ethics, excellence, and engagement ongoing throughout the school year-what these principles look like, sound like, feel like. A teacher’s role is being present in the classroom – constantly assisting and supporting students, and being engaged in the profession and the daily give and take within the classroom. A teacher’s role is also to support her students, be by their side, and guide them through learning –  living the principles of excellence. Finally, I believe a teacher’s role is to develop an uplifting classroom community: fostering confidence, optimism, and trust in order to assist students in achieving their goals.   I view creating this positive space in the classroom as part of my ethical responsibility to my students.

So on a bright spring day at our Morning Meeting, I started a conversation with my students, first sharing the thinking and reflecting that I was having personally about being human and the 3 E’s.  I shared with them my ideas and personal reflections. After explaining the Three Human Phenomena, we engaged in a discussion. First, I asked my students to think about what they know about human beings. They responded with answers like, “all humans are good at different things,” “humans have 2 eyes, 2 legs, 2 arms, etc.,” “some humans are kind,” and “some humans are shy.” Then I asked them how their responses are connected to the 3 Es, while I guided the conversation by asking about the Three Human Phenomena.  My initial assessment from this first discussion is that my students were making the connections between the two ideas. They were able to see a link between engagement and being present by commenting on how “if you are present in the classroom, it means you’re listening and learning.”  The students also participated in a conversation surrounding “human kindness”, Magical Uplift, and ethics. These 6, 7 and 8 year olds were able to point out the importance of creating a positive space by being kind, making smart choices, and helping others.

After this conversation about the Three Human Phenomena, the feel of the classroom seemed to change, however slightly. The students seemed ready to synthesize these ideas and implement their understandings of the 3 Es through thinking about uplifting their peers, being present in the classroom, and working together seamlessly.  I look forward to watching how this understanding evolves in the weeks and months ahead.

Critical Literacy and Good Work in Scotland

by Kelly Stone

In Scotland, our new Curriculum for Excellence is intended to enable all young people to become successful learners, confident individuals, responsible citizens, and effective contributors to society. Initial guidelines for Literacy and English appeared in 2008, claiming that “the important skills of critical literacy” were being foregrounded in the new curriculum.  Although critical literacy is a contested term, and definitions vary, I understand the two main elements of critical literacy to be deconstruction and reconstruction. David Wray (2006) makes this point succinctly, stating that “critical literacy is about transforming taken-for-granted social and language practices or assumptions for the good of as many people as possible.” I wholeheartedly believe in the importance of critical literacy, which creates exciting possibilities for discussing what it means to be a responsible citizen of the world, in both online and offline communities. Yet our problem in Scotland is this: as the government has issued more information to teachers, the “critical” element of critical literacy has been shifted to one side, and we now have “information and critical literacy” appearing. Issues of social justice are missing from the “official” constructions (for example, click here). But how can we have responsible citizens, participating in online and offline communities, who are not taught to think ethically and critically about the messages they encounter and to act to change what they think is unfair or unjust?

I don’t mean to suggest that critical literacy for social justice isn’t happening in Scotland. Many educators here are committed to these issues, and I was fortunate to meet some of them as part of my doctoral research. I have spent much of my time these past few years thinking about critical literacy, wondering why it has been deflated, or sidelined, in Scotland. One theory I have is that people might be afraid of the implications of a critical education which encourages and promotes challenge, critique, and action for transformation. Maybe it is lack of understanding about what “critical” really means in educational terms. I have wondered if we might be better talking about “literacy for responsible citizenship?” Is there more clarity in using that term? Is it less daunting, less intimidating? Other educational systems do not seem to have trouble using and understanding critical literacy, and changing terminology would bring Scotland out of alignment with them.

As Paulo Freire explained it, critical pedagogies enable “reflection and action upon the world in order to transform it.” I am hopeful that the use of The GoodWork Toolkit here will create spaces for reflection, discussion and action. Many teachers in the United Kingdom believe that there is an urgent and widespread need for the development of digital fluency or critical literacy skills that will enable children to evaluate the information they encounter online. They have also identified the need for support in understanding how to teach critical digital skills (Bartlett and Miller, 2011). As part of my doctoral research, I interviewed teachers and librarians who similarly identified a lack of resources to help them understand how to teach critical skills.  Participants spoke of the difficulties faced by children with handling the volume of information they find online and of the need for them to know how to help children deal with it, in order to prevent them from being manipulated or taken advantage of. The fact that they identified a dearth of resources to help them teach critical, evaluative skills, particularly as they relate to digital practices, highlights the need for such resources to be disseminated more widely. This is why materials such as The GoodWork Toolkit have such potential and value for educators. I have recommended its use to practitioners (in the online safety materials or here). Further, as part of a talk I gave at a recent conference workshop on the importance of critical skills in preparing children to use the internet safely, I  informed conference delegates about GoodWork principles, and how to find the toolkit.  At that workshop, while I was speaking with a group of multi-agency professionals about how we can prepare children and young people to become responsible digital citizens, it was clear that there is a real appetite to know more about how we can help foster ethical and critical thinking skills.  I look forward to using the Toolkit to open up discussions about ethics, rights, and responsibilities, and reporting back on these experiences.  It is, I believe, one key way to do good work as teachers, and to find how we can guide and support children in doing good work when they participate in communities, online and offline.

Bartlett, J. and Miller, C. (2011) Truth, Lies and the Internet: A report into young people’s digital fluency. London: Demos.

Freire, P. (1970) Pedagogy of the Oppressed. New York: Seabury.

Wray, D. (2006) Developing critical literacy: a priority for the 21st century [online].

Good Work Conference Reflections: Getting the Measure of Success

by Amelia Peterson

A couple of years ago Clayton Christensen, guru on the principles of successful business innovation, wrote an article for the Harvard Business Review entitled, ‘How Will You Measure Your Life?’. The piece sets out the guidance Christensen gave to the HBS class of 2010 about principles for success in their personal lives.

Last year, Matthew Killingsworth, a PhD student in Daniel Gilbert’s lab at the Harvard Psychology department presented as part of his dissertation research a new method to study ‘happiness’: he asked people at the end of each day to think back over their activities and respond for each, ‘if you could ‘fast forward’ through that activity, would you?’. Killingsworth found that on average, respondents would choose not to experience over half of their day.

The continuing popularity of Christensen’s article (which soon became a book) and the interest in questions such as Killingsworth’s is a reminder of our interest as a culture in evaluating the success our lives. I was reminded of these pieces last weekend by a New York Times post from a mother fretting about her child’s high school course choices. The writer, Hope Perlman, was angst-ridden, she explained, because “[her] goal as a parent is to raise successful kids” – and she was worried about how their choices now might affect their chances of particular kinds of success down the road. For, she admitted with the ‘candor’ perfected by NYT parent bloggers, alongside the wish for her children to be “well-rounded and humane” she holds another wish: “for them to achieve: top of their classes, admission to top colleges and therefore (this is my fantasy) assured jobs and material success.”

It turns out that Perlman has a whole blog dedicated to finding the meaning of ‘success’. I came across it while waiting for my ride at the end of day two of the Project Zero/Good Work conference on the subject of ‘Developing responsible, caring and balanced youth’. If being ‘successful’ remains a powerful life goal for so many, then those of us concerned by questions of ‘balance’ and ‘responsibility’ have a task: to ensure that success is not just a zero-sum status game but one that entails caring and fulfillment. Which brings me to my initial question: what does it mean to be successful?

On the final morning of that same conference, we were offered something by way of an answer from, unsurprisingly, the articulate mind of Howard Gardner. The question we should be asking ourselves, he said, is how can we spend time well? You can find a longer development of Howard’s ideas in this Cognoscenti post, but one way of thinking about it is: what if we were all part of Killingsworth’s study and thought at the end of each day – how much of that would I have fast forwarded, and how much was really worthwhile?

So what does it look like to be doing something worthwhile? In that same conference panel we heard veteran educator Ron Berger describe his 28 years creating beautiful work with his students. I expect ‘elementary school teacher’ is not quite the career Hope Perlman has in mind for her children. However, I believe that if she had heard Ron on that morning she would not have been worried about the low status or pay of the position. His enthusiasm for his work is compelling. Here, quite clearly, is a man who is able to spend his time as he chooses.

Quite universally I think, we value the power of this kind of autonomy. It is therefore bizarre the extent to which we have allowed it to fall away as a criterion of success. Our societal vision of success is one where the figure of your annual salary (or rather, your bonus) has become the arbiter of value, as opposed to what kind of quality of life you manage to achieve in your waking hours.

Think how different it would be if we brought to the centre of our idea of success, how we spend our time. The outlook does not invite past blanket statements about what kinds of activities or careers are, and are not, worth pursuing. Spreadsheets, coding, or endless meetings might be absolutely how some people would choose to spend their time, particularly if the activities form part of a larger sense of what they are doing with their lives and why. Yet for others, a lens that valued well-spent time might emphasize that they are far from successful by this account, and perhaps the only attraction of their field is the lingering sense of status attached to their hard won position. Making spent time our arbiter of value could also help us acknowledge the inequity at the lower end of the pay scale – if we valued human time more highly, we would have the proper response to the situation of those forced to work more than eight hours a day to acquire a liveable wage.

What this lens prioritizes is an experiential as opposed to goal-orientated way of looking at value, meaning and purpose. Both lenses are of course important – the value of a particular experience of spent time can vary depending on associated goals – but a focus on goals alone can lead to a skewed picture of how to live ones life. A picture that is liable to reduce the importance of attending to minor day-to-day matters that are not attached to a goal, such as the quality of interpersonal interactions. Overall, therefore, the time spent lens can help us to raise to its proper place something that is vital if we intend to be and develop more caring and responsible people: due attention to how we treat others. This focus simply does not fit well with a life orientated towards traditional conceptions of success, where achievement of goals trumps any time-bound or experiential concern. If someone is trying to achieve time-well-spent, however, then time spent engaging with others – or even just passing through a respectful interaction – never feels wasted, because human connection is simply the thing none of us can get enough of.

So along with what Christensen and Killingworth would say to Hope Perlman about how to help her children life a good life, we might add the words of Samuel Johnson: “The true measure of a man is how he treats someone who can do him absolutely no good.”

Good Work Conference Reflections: On “Embracing the Messy Path to Purpose”

by Alexis Redding

The first GoodWork Conference was last weekend in Dedham, Massachusetts. The conference focused on developing responsible, caring and balanced youth and included inspiring speakers including Howard Gardner, Bill Damon, Eric Liu, Damien Woetzel and more. Panels at the conference featured discussions of growing up in the digital age, the arts and good work, engaging youth in empathy and a discussion led by Howard Gardner with adult good workers. In the coming weeks, we will post a series of reflections by PZers and our colleagues on the conference, highlighting key moments and takeaways from the exciting 3 day event.

As a child, I relied on the oft-used ploy to delay lights out by demanding “just one more story” at bedtime.  My father, no stranger to my antics, would stand at the doorway and convey the final tale of the night: “Once upon a time, they lived happily ever after, the end” before plunging the room into darkness with the flip of a switch.  The first time he did this, I protested.  He was cheating, I said.  It wasn’t a real story, I argued.  But, over time, I embraced this 11-word tale as part of our evening ritual.

I hadn’t thought about his abridged story for nearly three decades, but was reminded of it over the weekend during the “Developing Responsible, Caring, & Balanced Youth” Conference in Dedham, MA.  In the morning on our final day together, Dr. William Damon described to the audience how “finding a sense of purpose doesn’t always work in a neat and pretty way.”  He warned of our over-simplified ideas about finding one’s calling and cautioned us about the “egocentrism in our dreams for our children.”  After spending more than a dozen years working with college-bound students, his admonitions rang true.  Allowing teens the space to listen to their own voices, to formulate ideas about the future that may look quite different from what their parents expected of them, and giving them room to fail is only a small part of the dialogue today.  Too small.

Listening to Dr. Damon’s description, I recognized that the little joke my father used to tell me is a very real part of the narrative we continue to tell teens today. We lead them to believe that life offers a direct path towards purpose, suggesting that jumping through each hoop along the way will lead to a “happily ever after” that may not actually be waiting at the end. What we fail to tell them is that the middle part of the story, the meaty bit where all of the richness of real life takes place, isn’t a straight line. And we forget to share with them the truth that life will be filled with many endings, some happier than others, followed by new beginnings and new dreams along the way.  And, worst of all, we neglect to point out that the obstacles that we climb over, tunnel under, and maybe even succumb to are what make the story interesting.  Indeed, it is in these details that we are most likely to find our true purpose.  Life should not be about the perceived “happily ever after” of getting into the right college, securing the dream job, or building the perfect home.  Though, for many adults – and for too many teens – we intone that it is.

To meet the conference goal of “Developing Responsible, Caring, & Balanced Youth,” we need to foster these traits in ourselves first.  And, above all else, we need to be truthful.  We need to show teens the people we revere as role models are almost always those who fell down or got lost along the way.  These are the risk-takers and dreamers of our contemporary mythology – our Horatio Algers and American dreamers of the modern world.

All weekend long we listened to such visionaries speak about the circuitous paths that they took and we felt inspired by them. Teens also need to be let in on the secret that getting off the beaten path can lead in the right direction and that failure is an integral part of success. As educators, we talk passionately about developing ‘grit’ in kids today.  However, without preparing them for the fact that life doesn’t always look like we expect it to in the end, we are not giving them the real tools to develop this kind of resiliency.

After this weekend, I propose a new version of my father’s story for the next generation: “Once upon a time, life got messy. But, then I made meaning… and it was mostly happy in the end.”  My dad didn’t include that middle bit in his nighttime tale, but he did include it in the decades of lessons he has taught me since then. These are the messages he has given me as I have fallen down, dusted myself off, and ultimately found the renewed sense of purpose that led me to this inspiring weekend conference.