What about those laptops?

We’re No. 1 in the nation!” Commissioner of Education Duke Albanese exhorted to a group of Maine middle-level educators gathered at Sugarloaf for their annual middle level conference. “Once again Maine is leading the nation in its Laptop Initiative!”

“Well, who cares, Duke?” I found myself exhorting in return, almost verbally attacking this enthusiastic leader, knowing full well that the venting of my frustration over what I perceived to be a competitive, win at all costs, win just to be number one attitude on his part might just be a bit of an obnoxious act on my own part. Yet, I continued to lament, “Who cares if we lead the nation unless we can help the rest of the states follow suit and manage something equally of value for their own youth or, better still, in order that they may lead us in return?” I don’t give a about being No. 1! Excuse me! But, unless we can share our expertise with others in order that they can be equally good, who cares if we’re number one?”

“Man! Are you rude and prickly!” “Man! You really are obnoxious!” I said to myself, madly critiquing my own ‘attitude’, my own competitive edge, my own desire to be right as I needled this Commissioner of ours. And man! Did he come back with a jewel:

“Well, what’s wrong with being first? Can that be all bad? Maine has something to share. Maine can lead in order that others reap the benefits of our wisdom.” And he added, “Mainers have, for generations, appeared to have a bit of an inferiority complex. Mainers don’t seem to know their worth. Mainers deserve to recognize their own mettle.”

I softened. Actually, I melted. I walked away from a heated confrontation having patted the arm of this wise leader, having experienced relief at his clear understanding of that which I had thought he’d missed.

Mainers, by and large, unlike their summer visitors, don’t have the means to pour into yachts, or ski trips abroad, or original art, or jewels, or Jaguars, or gems, so instead, they pour their hearts and souls into doing things like enhancing the lives of their own Maine kids. The dedication of Maine teachers is unlike anything I’ve seen elsewhere, elsewhere like in “away”, away in other states where I’ve taught. The dedication of Maine teachers fulfills their need for excitement, for reward, for a sense of having done something exhilarating and lasting, filling that void that yachts and skis and jewels and Jaguars and gems can’t touch.

And how about Maine kids, those fortunate enough to be using laptops now, laptops assigned to them all day, all week in those pilot sites, those schools where we can see first hand why our governor’s brainstorm has merit? Are these Maine kids using them to see who in the class is also first? First to locate a site on the war of 1812? First to amass 20 citations on the value of free speech? First to learn the date of the signing of Maine’s statehood? First to find the final count of electoral votes for George W. Bush? First, just to win? First just to be number one in the class?

Well, actually, no. They’re sighing with delight as they discover the virtual site of the Ann Frank Museum in Amsterdam, viewing those rooms in Ann’s house that sheltered her and her family, viewing the bed in which Ann slept.

Well, actually, no. They’re engaging their peers as they entice them too, to find the “secret” notations and diary of a Watergate “actor”.

Well, actually, no. They’re squealing with pre-adolescent delight as they find an accounting of those underground railroads who finally saw the light of day, on a day, on a hill, glistening in the Penobscot, in Brewer, Maine.

Well, actually, no. They’re voraciously swallowing the stats, the photos, the plays, the quotes, and the re-plays of Super Bowl XXXVI.

Will our legislators recognize that this initiative is not about technology but about learning? That it’s not about memorizing but about amassing vast stores of complex data? That it’s not about the rigid transport of facts from a dull teacher to a yet more dulled student recipient? That it’s not about apathy but about joy? After all, that’s what real learning is. It’s joy. Will our legislators get it? Will they open their minds to what works?

They have no choice. Our kids’ lives depend on it. It’s not all bad to be first. It’s not all bad to lead others. It’s not all bad to share the learning. It’s not all bad to experience the joy.

Carolyn Leick, EdD is the principal of Glenburn Elementary School.