Grabelle, Samantha. (2004). The BIG picture: Education is everyone's business. Reviewed by Naomi Jeffery Petersen, Indiana University South Bend

	Littky, Dennis, with Grabelle, Samantha. (2004). The BIG picture: Education is everyone’s business. Alexandria, VA: Association of Supervision and Curriculum Development. Pp. 230 + xi. $26.95 (Paperback)     ISBN 1-4166-0058-2 Reviewed by Naomi Jeffery Petersen Indiana University South Bend December 8, 2004 The Association of Supervision and Curriculum Development is a commercially successful nonprofit publisher, so familiar that its initials are used in casual conversation among educators. ASCD has a niche for interpreting and popularizing educational trends, so getting something in the mail from them could perk up your day. This review is inspired by the mailbox goodies that arrived on my doorstep yesterday and today: a magazine and a book. A membership in ASCD, like the National Geographic Society as well as many professional organizations, means a subscription to its flagship periodical, Educational Leadership. This editorial style, thanks to the journalistic vision of Ron Brandt, is refreshingly direct and readable. Over the years, it has become more of a glossy magazine, although the articles retain some of the scholarly conventions: at least one reference, and an author note. But there is every indication that this is a consumer, not a scholarly, publication: full-page ads, more color photos than text in the articles, and repagination. Peer-reviewed journals usually continue numbering pages throughout the year’s volume of issues, perceiving the year’s worth of issues as one volume to be archived; Consumer periodicals are consumable, that is, unlikely to be archived. It’s a minor detail, but it might be useful for an episode of Monk. Another clue to its audience can be seen in the current (October, 2004) issue devoted to writing, or “Writing!”. Exclamation points are also rare in scholarly writing. Furthermore, in their article on 6-triat rubrics, Saddler and Andrade fail to acknowledge seminal authors, i.e., Stiggins (2001), from the Northwest Regional Educational Laboratory that developed it. Although more customer-previewed than peer-reviewed, it is still useful to professors of education for its themed issues serve as a convenient collection for the novice reader of professional literature; it is a voice of student-centered pedagogy and social action, seeing schools in a broader role than test-preparation factories. Dennis Littky is one such voice. There are three levels of individual membership (with annual dues): basic ($49), comprehensive ($79), and premium ($189). You get more newsletters and free books with the higher levels, 5 and 9 titles, respectively, each year. Until a few years ago, ASCD issued a themed yearbook—a collection of authoritative, if ideologically similar, essays on the topic du jour. Either because Brandt departed or the millennium arrived, these are no longer produced, so another freebie arrives instead. The free titles are a mixture. Some titles become industry standards, for instance Danielson’s (1996) Enhancing Professional Practice, which gave language and framework to a national trend of pedagogical assessment. Charlotte has gone on to ETS, the industry giant of test design so popular in these reform-laden times. Another recent favorite is James Popham’s (2001), The Truth about Testing: An Educator’s Call to Action, all the more powerful because of Popham’s long association and stature in testing. On the website promoting its 2004 conference, ASCD even calls its authors ‘faculty’, such as Robert Marzano who helped develop Dimensions of Thinking. Many of its authors are also in the stable of speakers for whom ASCD organizes workshops. It’s a well-oiled machine, providing helpful links for continuing education credit; its pitch to exhibitors is to “Reach school and district leaders who make top-down spending decisions on school improvement” (http://www.ascd.org/cms/index.cfm?TheViewID=446). Another line of products is an impressive array of professional development workshops packaged with videos and blackline masters, the brainchild of Aurora Chase in Brandt’s heyday. Thus, ASCD is known for practical and technical expertise and can safely be called a voice of current pedagogical trends. By comparison, other free titles are more like personal enrichment experiences and prophets (rather than profits) in the wilderness, sharing a particular insight or technique, usually grounded in common sense and personal experience. Littky’s (2004) The BIG Picture: Education Is Everyone’s Businessis one such title. To write this review of it, I looked up what ASCD has to say about themselves on their website <www.ascd.org>. This is interesting: We address all aspects of effective teaching and learning—such as professional development, educational leadership, and capacity building. ASCD offers broad, multiple perspectives—across all education professions—in reporting key policies and practices. Because we represent all educators, we are able to focus solely on professional practice within the context of "Is it good for the children?" rather than what is reflective of a specific educator role. In short, ASCD reflects the conscience and content of education. It’s pretty hard to argue with a group that is focused only on what is good for children. Any politician knows that this is a grand rhetorical device, focusing on what we all have in common and suggesting that each ‘specific educator role’ is part of a larger community of shared purpose. This logic is behind ASCD’s masterful balancing act of marketing to essentialists and progressives alike. However, the claim of reflecting our ‘conscience and content’ is more problematic, and brings us to the title of interest to this review. Dennis Littky takes the role of being the voice of moral certainty quite seriously.Let’s see how he does it. First of all, the cover art of this slim volume is compelling. It is a photomosaic of a thoughtful student composed of other photos. I love those things. I love the zoom lens effect of focusing first on the larger picture and then the individual tiles. I love the metaphor of one person being part and parcel of the rest of humanity. It’s a great effect, interrupted by the book title and author banners. The finish is a pleasant matte, with an uncharacteristic navy blue inner cover that suggests greater weight than the soft cover, and more drama than an ordinary book. It is a great cover, holding the promise of a textured and student-oriented ‘big picture’ within. Based on an original photo by Cally Robyn Wolk, it is copyrighted by ASCD, so it may not be part of Littky’s vision so much as their graphic designers’. Without introduction, before the Table of Contents, the Foreword and the Preface, there is a picture of a lovely girl and her testimonial to the good effect on her development under the tutelage of the author and his institution. And that sets the pattern for the book: personal narrative and anecdote are presented for the author’s personal journey to grasping the sublime truths that underlie the success of his school in Providence, Rhode Island: the Metropolitan Regional Career and Technical Center, referred to fondly throughout as ‘the Met’. The first chapter is titled “The Real Goals of Education”; unlike Kieran Egan’s (1997) treatment that concluded there were multiple simultaneous, overlapping, and somewhat mutually exclusive goals, Littky focuses on what is NOT a ‘real’ (read: worthy) goal. There are generally two moods in the book: affectionate and disdainful. The tone is reminiscent of earnest proselytes who passionately hope you will be saved from ignorance and destruction by realizing the truth and wisdom they have already found. They don’t promise it will be easy, but they do suggest it is simple. The dark side in this case would be the essentialists currently holding court, i.e., standardized curricula and assessment that focus on academic achievement. Littky is clearly suspicious that mandating ‘adequate yearly progress’ is inconsistent with a tradition of nurturing individual development and differentiating instruction for diverse learners. However, there is no reasoned discussion of the particulars here. The No Child Left Behind Act of 2001 is not even mentioned nor is the dilemma of schools who must resolve multiple and conflicting mandates from different stakeholders in their children’s education. We’ll get to it later, but there is a serious deficiency of context throughout the narrative. To be fair we must note that this volume is pitched for an incredibly broad audience, from high school students “who want to take control over their learning and want school to be interesting, safe, respectful, and fun” to “principals and district administrators who want to change way schools are run”, according to the back cover. This is not a book for troubleshooting and improving existing schools, but rather a vision of complete restructuring schools to rid them of their systemic toxins, as he has done at ‘The Met’ and other schools. He designed it ‘from scratch’, a luxury unknown to most people and a point we will return to later. He reminisces about the early days of implementing his vision, and he was indeed visionary. He is also a benevolent master, supporting but relentlessly guiding his staff and students. He is a cult figure in his community, and certainly to his assistant, Sam Gabrelle. Perhaps her loyalty stayed an otherwise effective editorial hand. After his alternative school was up and running, he was able to present it to Ted Sizer who promptly identified it as the first in the Coalition of Essential Schools. This encounter is worth pointing out. He shares it in the Acknowledgements, wherein he says he is ‘grateful for people like John Dewey and Ted Sizer’, although he points out that he pioneered his approach before Sizer’s influence. “I’m already doing it!” was his introduction. I’m not sure if Littky thought it would help inspire his readers to share that after the thrilling first meeting with Sizer, “I ran outside on pure adrenaline and threw up in the parking lot.” He then gushes “ (Sizer) told me we were soulmates. We were, and continue to be. And neither of us has ever stepped away from our commitment to make schools better places for learning.” They join a large family of committed educators. For six pages he acknowledges relationships in the same cheerfully self-congratulatory manner of one who is not only sincerely aware of the qualities in those he likes to work with, but also basks in the fact that such quality folks choose to work with him. He cheerfully drops famous names, say Steven Spielberg, only to report, like Michael Moore, that there was no interest in his request. But he hopes that by reading his book, the director will be inspired to respond, thereby scoring points for single-minded optimism, with no doubt about his method or his message. Similarly, he enjoys pointing out that Csikszentmihalyi “has come to the same conclusions that we did when we started the Met” (p. 107). The rhetorical device of honor by association might be forgiven if the conclusions were self-evident. Perhaps it is not oversight that prevented him from including the evidence, but arrogance if he assumes that we did our homework and became familiar with the accounts of it, however dated. The BIG Picture is a personal narrative, for the emphasis appears to be all about Littky rather than any generalizable ideas. Not only are there no empirical studies to support the anecdotal evidence, there are not even census figures that would situate his ideas into a recognizable population and context. So there is an external validity weakness.He summarizes and dismisses detractors with no effort to acknowledge their perspective, as seen in his report of ‘a principal from another school’ who downplayed his achievements. “Incredible,” he sniffed (p. 194), after using quotation marks for patently manufactured paraphrases. At least, it is unlikely that two overheard statements could share such parallel structure. There is a strong whiff of poetic license to accompany the bombast. So there is an internal validity weakness as well. Littky’s construct validity is also suspect, given his penchant for broad sweeping statements with no support such as a professional educator would expect when challenging the status quo; even his high school audience might expect more structure to his thesis. My preservice teachers’ novice efforts to write a philosophy of education statement would be returned for heavy revision if they could not connect their beliefs to some literature in the professional knowledge base and use the language that identifies similar strands of ideology. In his case, he might recognize his preference for self-actualization, client-centered therapy, and a gestalt and identify humanist psychologists, i.e., Maslow, Rogers, and Perls. He would no doubt appreciate Wil Durant’s Declaration of Interdependence (1945) or Morton Deutsch’s (1973) conflict resolution. I was surprised to see no William Glasser (1986). Rather, his strongest defining moment is in accusing people of faint hearts and flawed motives. His insight and discovery and responsiveness and passion appear to be the critical ingredients of his success. The guiding questions at the end of each chapter are broadly intended to foster that insight, largely by confronting demons of fear and inertia and provincial myopia, or worse, un-kid-friendliness. Littky is preaching to the choir here. He’s just not preaching very well, at least to my pew. This is not to minimize what he has clearly accomplished. Littky championed two middle schools, one beginning in 1972 and the other in 1981, before the Nation at Risk report was issued in 1983; he started this alternative high school in 1996 — before No Child Left Behind Act of 2001 and when most states were in the process of revamping their standards. An era of reform and accountability has long exceeded the research interests of a simpler time, with far more complex considerations and more sophisticated statistical programs to analyze them. To his credit, after bemoaning standardized tests for measuring what can be measured rather than what is of value, his rare mention of empirical evidence is about students at ‘the Met’ school feeling comfortable about talking to teachers about personal or family problems “almost three times higher than the statewide average” (p. 39). One wonders if Littky’s success (heretofore defined in highly personal and unquanitifed terms) can be duplicated without the apparent charisma. His picture on the cover, and also in the promotional material for the upcoming ASCD convention, feature his trademark brimless cap, bemused twinkle, and soft beard. I have never met him, but he appears poised to make a friend or convert. The words of the book, however, reveal that Littky is competitive, an irony considering his passionate entreaty that schools are currently flawed because they emphasize competition. Why do I think he is competitive? Too often there are references to the distinctiveness of his relationships and his school compared to others: “After more than 35 years in education, I continue to be angry and amazed at what goes on in our public school system… I am angry and amazed that more people don’t see what I see” (p. 20). Later he enjoys a familiar bait and switch of recalling a 20-year old criticism that “Sadly, it is just as relevant today” (p. 35), thereby congratulating himself on vision as well as superiority. Given his fondness for aphorism, consider this one from Will Durant (1958), a fellow humanist with a telling home truth for Littky: “To speak ill of others is a dishonest way of praising ourselves.” Littky reveals more than a little cynicism regarding the potential of adults who are less than ideal. A favorite teacherism of mine that Littky might appreciate is appropo here: We don’t punish a child who cannot see the board; why then fail the child who cannot see the point? The same might be applied to lifelong learners. A visionary is often fueled by passion, but it is disappointing that he offers no compassionate insight into the people who do not see things the same way. In the spirit of personal narrative and disclosure, let me share how I approach a text in order to form a snapshot of the author’s orientation and knowledge base. First, I survey the chapter titles and then I cruise through the bibliography to note the citations, accumulating a mental distribution of the ideologies and preferences associated with them. This was not hard to do with Littky’s book because there is no bibliography-- although there are Notes at the end of the book for each chapter. These may be analyzed for their currency, their scholarly rigor, and their content. The three references in the preface are from the 80’s, and they are all profiles of his work. They are referred to frequently throughout the book. This is a problem when there are no more than ten citations per chapter. He favors the writing of post-Sputnik Conant (1959), post-Kennedy Holt(1964), post-boom Peters (1987), post-modernist Illich (1996), and post-coercive Kohn (www.alfiekohn.org). He has a strong affinity for Myles Horton, whose autobiography was written with Herbert Kohl, another romantic progressivist. Boyer is quoted from a decade ago, at his most iconoclastic: “I feel authorized this morning officially to declare (the Carnegie unit) dead” (p.93) but the citation is incomplete. Nearly every chapter also cites Dewey’s (1938) Experience and Education. Ironically for Littky, the 1938 volume was Dewey’s criticism of progressive education losing its focus. It is a sterling book that I, too, enjoy reading and re-reading although in context of its limitations: Dewey did not address the dilemma of ‘inclusion’ of special education students, nor myriad other technicalities that have received widespread attention. The American Educational Research Association’s primary journal recently printed an exchange (Glassman, 2001; Gredler & Schields, 2004) that demonstrates the fallacy of assuming Dewey’s legacy is simple and agreed. But to return to the survey of chapter titles, Chapter 1 “The Real Goals of Education” and Chapter 6 “Real Work in a the Real World” herald a challenge to the artifice of schooling but also the belief that the reality can be recognized. Who will define that reality? According to Chapters 2, “Kids, Schools, and the Bigger Picture”, Chapter 4, “One Student at a Time”, and Chapter 5, “Learning through Interests and Pursuing Passions”, it will be the students; Chapter 7 promises “Giving Families Back Their Power”. This last immediately alerts me to the dilemma of schools who have absorbed parenting functions due to abdication, not subjugation, of adult decision-making, so I park that caution until I read further. I notice the clever device of numbering one chapter “8 ½”. This allows for nearly three more whole page of ponderable questions, another full page inspirational photo plus a mock-up page of a newspaper article, a reproduced student response, and two pages of “some great resources” which include books he has already discussed at length. Chapter 9 concludes this slim volume with the challenge to “Make It Happen” followed by the cozy ‘From Dennis’s Bookshelf’ invitation to new friends. There is no list of tables or figures, not in itself a serious limitation, but there is accordingly no concise model presented anywhere, a serious limitation indeed. There is no summary of the elements although key points are discussed in turn. Chapter 3 makes the case for ‘creating an atmosphere that supports learning’ and concludes with the clearest directive: “The best way to create a positive school culture, with a supportive, nurturing atmosphere, is to start by creating a small school” (p. 67), thereby defining the purpose of the book: to describe and prescribe an idea and mood of success. The closest he comes to a rubric is to say “Learning is about what we at the Met call ‘the three Rs”—relationships, relevance, and rigor” (p. 35). Clearly the bulk of the book is about relationships and relevance; the academic rigor is left to the classroom teacher, cheered on by the principal. Let me mention his editorial device to highlight key concepts; because they are not similar in any way, i.e., all actions or all questions. Rather, they appear to merely punctuate the text. He highlights them so it is possible to skim the already sparsely populated page to get an abridged sound bite version of his message. The effect is like sitting next to someone talking on a cell phone, with only part of the conversation in regular (or shrill) volume and the rest faintly overheard as if by eavesdropping. Here is a bit of the hopscotch of spontaneous boldface within regular paragraph text of Chapter 2: “Kids are so fragile” (p. 20); “While I think kids are very fragile, I also think they are very resilient” (p. 22); “All of our kids are facing the odds of an education system that is all wrong” (p. 27); “We have to have higher standards, and they’ve got to be different standards” (p. 35). And here’s Chapter 3, mentioned above as the most focused for practical guidelines: “A belief in positive school climate as a goal, not as a process toward a goal” (p. 46); “We greeted the kids” (p. 47); “Respect” (p.48); “Fun and happiness” (p. 48); “A shared philosophy” (p. 49); “I love coming to work” (p. 49); “fun” (p. 49); “different every day” (p. 50); “students must be part of a democratic environment” (p. 51); “kindness” (p. 50); “where kids feel safe” (p. 52); “becomes like a great newspaper office” (p. 53); “take advantage of everything we know about how people learn best” (p. 56); “If kids are going to be respectful, they must feel respected” (p. 56). In the final chapter he provides lists of things for each stakeholder to do in order to “Make It Happen”. Tellingly, there are only two items on the principal’s list, so revealing in their superficiality that they merit complete quotation: “Encourage your parents, students, and teachers to do everything on these lists, and much, much more.” “Recognize that you are accountable to your students far beyond their graduation from your school. If your goal is to create successful, lifelong learners, then you accountability to your students must follow them into their adult lives and careers.”(p. 198) What does that mean when it’s at home? What kind of accountability is he proposing? What kind of leadership is he describing if it only involves encouragement and recognition? This is a cheerleader, not an instructional leader who must negotiate very troubled waters indeed. His prevailing argument is that personal enrichment will indirectly improve learning. A large body of theory and research, unmentioned here, support this hypothesis. Unless he speaks the language of empiricism, or reviews the literature that does, he will not persuade the caretakers of taxpayer monies who now demand short-term accountability for resources invested in student achievement. He could take a page from Brandt (2001) who at least responded to the common concerns of fiscal inefficiency. Littky does acknowledge that his school, although public, was funded externally—in large part through his personal efforts. But he could acknowledge that even the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation, his great benefactors, could not fund enough schools to make it feasible for all. He has not made the case that the model can effectively replace factory model schools. One more thing. Littky acknowledges that he was able to ‘start from scratch’ to develop the school of his dreams. I am reminded of the difference between the American revolution and all that followed. Creating a new country on this soil did not really revolutionize so much as refuse to extend to new territory an established structure. We started from scratch with few traditions so entrenched that they had irresistible momentum. France followed soon after, but less smoothly. A Reign of Terror or two later and it is still not the beacon of democracy hoped for at the barricade. Insurrections and civil wars for the most part involve more damage than healing, as can be seen in our own American south. So his insistence on “completely overhauling the entire structure of schools” (p. 29) echoes the desire for a brave new world, not a reconstituted old one. I feel the same way about my basement. I wish for lightning to strike and a catastrophic but well-insured fire to rescue me from the task. But we are not moving, so I’d best begin making decisions, one book or piece of clothing at a time, with a grand goal in mind. Isn’t it ironic to recognize the same logic that fueled clean sweep reforms? Regarding that voting public, they are more informed than thirty years ago when Littky (and I) began our idealistic careers and you couldn’t’ vote until you were 21. Non-educators have heard of multiple intelligences and young parents have turned off televisions and stocked up on Baby Einstein toys and music, largely based on widely disseminated research. They are unlikely to be rallied with cries of “Now! Now! Now!” (p. 176) or grand gestures toward Gandhi without attribution, i.e., “Imagine what your school would look like if the changes you imagine began to take hold” (p. 195). Martin Luther King, Jr. provides some of the inspirational quotes, and the good doctor has no detractor here. However, “the time is always right to do what is right ” (p. 195; also at http://www.oberlin.edu/external/EOG/BlackHistoryMonth/MLK/MLKmainpage.html) is not a compelling argument for this vaguely defined revolt. This widely attributed quote was first broadcast in 1964 in King’s commencement address to Oberlin college on "The Future of Integration”. He cautioned students about to vote for the first time to consider who had voted against the Civil Rights Bill, in this case Barry Goldwater. The dilemma for most people is not so clear, because there is more than one right way to do anything, and many of the right goals seem mutually exclusive (Carter, 1997). How does one reconcile the learner-centered ideal to help each child ‘develop to his fullest potential’ (familiar rhetoric from boomer childhoods) with the knowledge-centered measures of ‘adequate yearly progress’ as required by NCLB? Let me point out a difficulty in writing this review. I, too, am a progressivist relic from the 70’s, or as Brandt (2001) termed a romantic idealogue. The book reads like an inspirational study of scripture, with thoughtful questions at the end of each chapter (“Why do schools so often seem to resist, or even fear, parent involvement? What can parents do to change this? What can schools do?” p. 151) and inspiring words decorating the margins (“teaching is so much more than I ever thought it would be.” P. 13). Littky’s Artisan-Idealist is not able to translate his message for the Rationalist-Manager, and the public has certainly emerged as a hands-on manager compared to the ‘good old days’ before standards-era reform and homeschools. The other difficulty in writing this review is that after reading the casual, if strident, conversation of Littky’s book, I find myself punctuating a perfectly promising train of logic with random diversions. So I will abruptly return to what I liked in the first place: the cover art. I’d keep this free book just for that if it weren’t disfigured with the author and title. Maybe ASCD will offer it as a poster. Or a jigsaw puzzle. This review began with the context for this book, its publisher. To balance its record here, consider another recent offering: Transforming Schools: Creating a Culture of Continuous Improvement by Allison Zmuda, Robert Kuklis, and Everett Kline (2004). This, too, is an admittedly non-technical book, as explained in the foreword by Jay McTigue, himself a noted author of many technical books on assessment and therefore adding all the more credibility to a work focused on “a set of principles to guide reformation” rather than a single model. They use Sizer’s rhetorical device of a fictional school to examine a simultaneously realistic and idealistic change of culture. Included are many helpful figures, especially 4.1 “Conversations centerd on continuous improvement in a competent system” (p. 90) a simple diagram of communication. Conversations are included in format distinguished from the text, and bold type is not used for decoration. It, too, closes each chapter with ponderable questions, but they are a bullet list rather than a self-conscious exercise. Finally, the references list is current and authoritative, indicating the beliefs and vision guiding the work are supported by the logic and rigor of the profession. Both books share the same goal, but Littky’s is festschrift to Zmuda, Kuklis, and Kline’s fictionalized handbook to systems thinking. Both have a purpose, and we can thank ASCD for providing the choice in the democracy of the marketplace. References Brandt (2002). Powerful Learning. Postscript to presentation at the 2002 annual meeting of the Washington Educational Research Association). Retrieved 10 October 2004 from http://www.wera-web.org/pages/activities/brandt.php Carte, S. (1997). Integrity. New York: HarperCollins. Conant, J. (1959). The American high school today: A first report to interested citizens. New York: McGraw-Hill. Danielson, C. (1996). Enhancing professional practice. Alexandria, VA: ASCD. Deutsch, M. (1973). The resolution of conflict. New Haven, CT: Yale. Durant, W. (1945). Declaration of interdependence. Introduced into the Congressional Record on October 1, 1945 by Hon. Ellis E. Patterson. Durant, W. (1958). Commencement Address to Webb School of Claremont, CA, on June 7, 1958. Dewey, J. (1938). Experience and education. New York: Macmillan. Egan, K. (1997). The educated mind: How cognitive tools shape our understanding. University of Chicago. Glasser, W. (1986). Control theory in the classroom. New York: Harper. Glassman, M. (2001). Dewey and Vygotsky: Society, experience, and inquiry in educational practice. Educational Researcher, 30 (4), 3-14. Gredler, M. & Schields, C. (2004). Does no one read Vygotsky’s words any more? Educational Researcher, 33 (2), 21-25. Holt, J. (1964). How children fail. New York: Bantam Doubleday Dell. Illich, I. (1996). Deschooling society: Social questions. London: Marion Boyars. Marzano, R. (1992). A different kind of classroom: Teaching with Dimensions of Learning. Alexandria, VA: ASCD. Peters, T. (1987). Thriving on chaos.New York: HarperCollins. Popham, W. J. (2001). The truth about testing: An educator’s call to action. Alexandria, VA: ASCD. Saddler, B. & Andrade, H. (2004).The writing rubric: Instructional rubrics can help students become self-regulated writers. Educational Leadership, 64. 48-52. Stiggins, R. (2001). Student-involved classroom assessment. (3rd ed.). New York: Merrill. Zmuda, A., Kuklis, R., & Kline, E. (2004). Transforming schools: Creating a culture of continuous improvement. Alexandria, VA: ASCD. About the Reviewer Naomi Jeffery Petersen, Assistant Professor of Education, Indiana University, South Bend, IN, has years and years of experience teaching students grade 3 and up through graduate school to write. Email her at NJP@iusb.edu, especially if you share any of her current scholarly interests centering on communities of learners, e.g. adjunct roles in schools of education; online intersubjectivity; the logistics and curricula of field trips; survey methods; or culture-building and concept-attainment strategies to replace coercive classroom management.