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When I ask people what positive things about their schooling stand out in memory, they often mention a particular teacher, even a particular moment with a particular teacher.

A lot of educators have written about the importance of care in schooling, and I'd like to underscore an aspect of care, of meaningful relationships with adults, that, I think, warrants attention:  The intimate relation between these relationships and learning, good ol' hard-nosed cognitive outcomes.

I have a personal take on this issue, for it was one teacher, my senior high-school English teacher, Jack McFarland, who turned my life around.  He had a no-nonsense demeanor, and he had the most demanding curriculum I faced in four years of high school.  But we students knew he gave a damn, that he worked us because he believed in us, and he demanded more of himself - in terms of hours spent closely reading our papers - than he did of us.  After a while, hungry for adult connection, I wanted to connect with him.

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For some time now, there has been a troubled national conversation about the skills and values of young people entering the workforce, concerns about their literacy, numeracy, and problem-solving ability, and, as well, their weaknesses in the so-called "soft" job skills: punctuality, responsibility, a sense of workmanship.

I wonder, though, if our collective anxiety is distracting us from, even blinding us to, a wide range of behaviors and values that are constructive, engaged, and laudable and, in fact, are dearly sought in our national assays of young people's lives. We don't look in the right places - which are, not infrequently, right before us.

The studies I did for The Mind at Work offer a different perspective. My observations of young people building a cabinet or repairing a faulty circuit revealed complex thought and skill. And these observations have also revealed a range of values that would offer an unexpected contribution to our national lamentation over the loss of values.

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A few months ago, National Public Radio was running a series called "Letters to the President," in which various experts weighed in with advice for President Obama on pressing topics: health care, national security, the economy, the environment. Then came the one that was on education.

There were three people interviewed. A person from a conservative think tank led off with a call for standing tough on NLCB-style accountability and for alternatives to the public education system like charter schools and vouchers. She also took a swipe at teachers' unions.  Then one of Obama's education advisors said the president needs to avoid the stale skirmishes - for example, over NCLB - and put forth a bold initiative, like merit pay for teachers. The third speaker was from another advocacy group and spoke to the need to change our beliefs that poor kids can't achieve in school.

Regardless of the merits of what each person said, I couldn't help but notice that all three were from the policy world. There were no teachers or principals interviewed for this "Letter to the President." There were no parents interviewed (though of course the three speakers might have kids in school, but they didn't speak in that capacity). There were no youth workers, no one from social services. There were no educational researchers. And there were no artists or writers or scientists or diplomats. And there were no students.

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In the midst of the culture wars that swirl around schools; the fractious, intractable school politics; the drumbeat of economic competitiveness; and the testing, testing, testing - in the midst of all this, it is easy to lose sight of the broader purpose and grand vision of the common public school.

The economic motive has always been a significant factor in the spread of mass education in the United States, and as someone from the working class who has achieved financial mobility from schooling, the importance of the link between education and economic well-being is not lost on me.

But this economic focus can restrict our vision of what school ought to be about: the full sweep of growth and development, for both individuals and for a democratic society. This narrowing of discourse, this pinching of what we talk about when we talk about school, is evident in the national and regional discussions of the goals of education.

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Mike Rose is our guest blogger during the week of August 17th. If you have any questions for Mike Rose, add a comment to any of his posts. Here is some more information about The Mind at Work, Possible Lives, and Lives on the Boundary:

The Mind at Work

As did the national bestseller Nickel and Dimed, Mike Rose's revelatory book demolishes the long-held notion that people who work with their hands make up a less intelligent class. He shows us waitresses making lightning-fast calculations, carpenters handling complex spatial mathematics, and hairdressers, plumbers, and electricians with their aesthetic and diagnostic acumen.  Rose, an educator who is himself the son of a waitress, explores the intellectual repertory of everyday workers and the terrible social cost of undervaluing the work they do. Deftly combining research, interviews, and personal history, this is one of those rare books that has the capacity both to shape public policy and to illuminate general readers.

Possible Lives

"This big-shouldered book, full of ardor...offers us a reasonable hope that with attention and care we can again make public education what it was meant to be, and must yet be."-The Los Angeles Times.