The Art of Jazz

“When they study our civilization two thousand years from now, there will only be three things that Americans will be known for: the Constitution, baseball, and jazz.”

— Gerald Early

Imagine a country: imperfect, divided, diverse, contradictory, inchoate, in search of a more perfect union.

Now give that country a sound, a feeling, and a form.

Jazz is the soundtrack of American life. It is a prism through which we can see and make sense of our own history.

Jazz peels back the layers of American identity. It takes our national character and gives it shape.

It was born in the Crescent City of New Orleans — established by the French in 1718, briefly ruled by Spain, a waystation for the ships and crews of the world, a part of America since 1803, and home to an unprecedented mixture of the world’s people, languages, cultures, and styles of music.

Its roots can be traced to the early 19th century and to the public, legal gathering of slaves in Congo Square, who brought a uniquely African form of music  — polyrhythmic, antiphonal, and unabashedly expressive — into public view.

It is a music of movement — marching bands and swing dances and waltzes and mazurkas. It contains within its DNA the genes of ragtime, the blues, and the sacred music of the baptist church — but also klezmer, calypso, and zydeco.

Jazz is a dialectic. It rewards individual expression and demands selfless collaboration. It is organized chaos. It emerges through feeling. It is the recipe of a thousand chefs.

To its detractors, jazz is an abomination — a “bolshevistic smashing of the rules and tenets of decorous music. A “willful ugliness.” A “deliberate vulgarity.”

But to its devotees, jazz is a barometer of freedom itself — a music Duke Ellington said “is the only unhampered, unhindered expression of complete freedom yet produced in this country.”

Jazz is more style than composition. One moment it was unknown — “a low noise in a low dive.” A moment later it was the center of everything, “the diversion of princes and millionaires,” an art form that could match a new tempo to the world and to American public life, “a restorative for the national nerve complaint, the great American noise.”

Its feeling, Wynton Marsalis says, is like the feeling you get going into your favorite grandmother’s house. You know there’s all kinds of things in there that you might not recognize, but it’s accumulated wisdom. Jazz is freedom of expression with a groove.

Jazz objectifies us. It’s an art form that helps us understand ourselves. It’s the art of negotiation. It’s the argument we keep having.

Jazz is a chance to decide how to let one’s personality emerge against the tapestry of a whole stage full of musicians doing the same thing, at the same time.

Jazz is like democracy itself. It’s a process that will not always go your way. It will force you to adjust.

Jazz is a way of wrestling with what to means to be human. “What comes out of your horn is what you understand about life, the texture of it, the absurdity of it, and the beauty of it.”

Jazz is all of it — the interweaving, the dueling, the calling and responding, the alternating, the texturing, the dominating and submitting, the euphoria and the sadness, moving, challenging, celebrating and reshaping.

Jazz is not the notes you play; it’s the notes you leave out.

Listen.

 

New Orleans is an all-charter city. Is that a good thing?

This week, the last five traditional neighborhood schools in New Orleans’ Recovery School district were closed – making it the country’s first district made up entirely of charter schools.

That’s a good thing, right?

If you look at some of the baseline data, it’s hard not to say yes. According to the Washington Post‘s Lyndsey Layton, prior to Hurricane Katrina, New Orleans’ high school graduation rate was just over 50 percent. In 2013, it was just shy of 80 percent. Similarly, student math and reading scores have risen over thirty points higher than they were before the storm. Indeed, as longtime PBS education reporter John Merrow shows in his documentary film, Rebirth, there’s a lot to like about what’s happening in the Crescent City.

Of course, Merrow’s balanced coverage also exposes some of the problems with the reform strategy in New Orleans – from reduced financial oversight to increased social stratification. And community activists like Karran Harper Royal have gone further, arguing that school closures in cities like hers disproportionately affect African American students and families. “This push to close schools  . . . is the new Jim Crow,” she explained, pointing out that New Orleans’ “new normal” means something very different to residents like her. In an all-charter city, she says, “You have a chance, not a choice.”

Which is it? Are charter schools the answer? Or are they the beginning of the end of public education in America?

I’ve been thinking about these questions a lot these days, after spending the month of May traveling around the country to talk about my new book, which is (surprise surprise) all about school choice. What I learned can be boiled down to these two observations: first, school choice feels (and is) very different depending on where you live; and second, the question we ask when we talk about school choice – are charter schools the solution or the problem? – is not the question we should be asking.

With regard to the first point, let’s begin with a city like Washington, D.C., where enrollment in both charters and district schools is rising, and where the district and charter community are collaborative enough to have held their first unified lottery this year. Contrast that with a state like Michigan, where four out of five charter schools are for-profit entities. Then look at a city like Chicago, where more than fifty neighborhood schools have already been closed, where more will undoubtedly be shuttered this fall, and where shiny new ones are opening all the time – and this amid a larger climate of declining enrollment overall (you do the math), and you begin to see that speaking broadly about “school choice” or “charter schools” is appealingly simple, and completely inappropriate.

How choice feels depends on where you live, and how high (or low) the levels of trust, transparency, and cross-sector collaboration are in those communities. Period.

To be clear, school choice should feel different in different places, because different driving forces are at the root of different parts of the movement. Is the goal to build space for more innovation as a way to not just increase the number of charter schools but also create a rising tide that lifts all boats and improves all schools (of all stripes) in a city? I would argue that’s what’s happening, mostly, in D.C. Or is the goal to create a zero-sum game that results in the disappearance of everything old in order to make way for anything new? That’s what it feels like, partly, in Chicago.

Too often, our infatuation with charter schools has led too many of us – from soccer moms to President Obama – to equate them with reform. More charter schools, the logic goes, equals more quality and a reimagined public school system. And, to be sure, I’ve seen a lot more good charter schools in my travels than bad ones. But you can’t improve American public education, systemically, one school at a time (and, to be clear, although cities like New Orleans and D.C. are inundated, less than 5% of children nationwide attend charters).

This is not surprising to anyone who knows anything about systems change. “From a very early age,” Peter Senge writes in his classic book, The Fifth Discipline, “we are taught to break apart problems, to fragment the world.” This reflex makes complex tasks seem more approachable. But the truth is we all pay a price for deluding ourselves into thinking that complex problems can be addressed with piecemeal, or, in this case, school-by-school, solutions.

In Solving Tough Problems, Adam Kahane postulates that one reason we do this is because we fail to recognize the interplay of three different types of complexity: dynamic, generative, and social. “A problem has low dynamic complexity,” Kahane writes, “if cause and effect are close together in space and time. In a car engine, for example, causes produce effects that are nearby, immediate, and obvious; and so, why an engine doesn’t run can be understood and solved be testing and fixing one piece at a time.” By contrast, a problem has high dynamic complexity if cause and effect are far apart in space and time. This characterizes just about any major challenge faced by American public education today. Kahane says such problems “can only be understood systemically, taking account of the interrelationship among the pieces and the functioning of the system as a whole.

“A problem has low generative complexity,” he continues, “if its future is familiar and predictable. In a traditional village, for example, the future simply replays the past, and so solutions and rules from the past will work in the future.” By contrast, a problem has high generative complexity if its future is unfamiliar and unpredictable. Think again of the challenges faced by schools, which must depart from the traditional Industrial-era model of schooling to match the needs of students who are entering a radically different world than the one their parents grew up in. “Solutions to problems with high generative complexity cannot be calculated in advance, on paper, based on what has worked in the past, but have to be worked out as the situation unfolds.

“A problem has low social complexity if the people who are part of the problem have common assumptions, values, rationales, and objectives.” This may have been true in the past, when one’s neighborhood school was more likely to attract families of similar faiths, economic levels, and ethnicities. But a problem has high social complexity if the people who must solve it together see the world in very different ways. “Problems of high social complexity,” Kahane says, “cannot be peacefully solved by authorities from on high; the people involved must participate in creating and implementing solutions.”

So how do we identify solutions for a field that is marked by high degrees of dynamic, generative, and social complexity? One step is merely by asking the question, as opposed to debating whether we need more or less charter schools. And another step, impossible to avoid when the opening question is a different one, is to start seeing public schools and the communities they serve as systems, not parallel tracks.

Too often, this interdependence between charters and traditional public schools (not to mention between charters themselves) is given short shrift. Yet our still-nascent experiment in school choice – national and/or local – won’t work until we do. And although New Orleans’ highly localized experiment as an all-charter city may ultimately succeed, its strategy, applied nationwide, is a fool’s errand. “The most profound strategy for changing a living network comes from biology,” Meg Wheatley explains in Leadership & The New Science. “If a system is in trouble, it can only be restored by connecting itself to more of itself.”

So what does this all mean?

To unleash the sort of generative feedback loop that can improve all schools, we must see reform as a both/and proposition. We need to raze and rebuild, and we need to preserve and improve. We need the ingenuity of single-school autonomy, and we need the scalability of whole-community structures. We need to incentivize schools to instill in young people the skills, habits and dispositions they’ll need to navigate this brave new world, and we need to stop rewarding schools that are merely perfecting our ability to succeed in a system that no longer serves our interests. And, finally, we need to realize that as appealing as it may be to assume otherwise, concepts like “choice” and “charter” are not monolithic terms; they are fluid, fulsome, and unfolding before our eyes.

In New Orleans, and everywhere else, we remain in the eye of the storm.

(This column originally appeared in Education Week.)

With Treme, Blues at the Equinox

Is anyone out there watching the final season of Treme, David Simon’s underappreciated series about New Orleans and, by extension, us?

Since its debut in 2010, which followed perhaps too closely on the heels of Simon’s undisputed masterpiece, The Wire, most of the comments about Treme have focused on what it is not.

It’s not thrilling. It’s not suspenseful. It’s not exciting.

It’s true – Treme is not really any of those things. Then again, unlike just about every other drama on television, it’s also not about drugs, or counter-terrorism, or organized crime.

Two episodes into its fourth and final season on HBO, I’m struck by what this show is about – the silent, almost imperceptible shift away from something original, and raw, and dysfunctional, and towards something far more efficient, and generic, and mundane.

Treme is about modern society, in other words, and what it looks and feels like to be a human being at the equinox of reform-minded hope and change-inducing despair.

Consider the title of this season’s opening episode, “Yes We Can.” It’s 2008, and the central characters of the show – musicians and foodies most – are awash in the glow of Barack Obama’s historic presidential victory. But the glow lasts about five minutes before the reality of life in New Orleans intercedes to remind them (and us) of the work that remains to be done. A murderer escapes detection because the city’s crime cameras haven’t worked since Hurricane Katrina. A car gets eaten by one of the city’s gaping potholes. And someone arrested for a petty offense dies senselessly of an asthma attack in a holding cell. “I keep waiting for someone to come through and clean this place out,” says a frustrated detective.

There is, of course, a cleaning-out underway, but it’s the kind that comes with a cost. Developers and change agents of all kinds see in post-Katrina New Orleans a once-in-a-generation opportunity to remove the dirt and dysfunction of the past. Housing projects are closed to their former inhabitants. Charter schools apply fresh coats of paint to formerly rotting public school buildings. And corporate interests have plans for a gleaming new jazz center in an abandoned municipal hall.

Change is coming to the Crescent City. Who could argue with that?

A lot of people, actually. As one resident says at a contentious community meeting, “We all like getting sanctified, but we don’t like being gentrified!” But the genius of David Simon is that he doesn’t give us clear heroes and villains; instead, everyone inhabits their own moral shade of gray. As one of the developers asks earnestly, in the face of so much resistance, “Why is everybody so pissed off in this town all the time?”

Why indeed. And that’s why the tone of this show is so perfect. Unlike the crumbling levees of 2005, there are no undeniable alarm bells to signal the post-Katrina crisis at hand – which, at its core, is the diminution of New Orleans’ distinctive culture, particularly its twin anchors: music and food. Instead, the alarm of gentrification is a dog whistle; only some can hear it. Others see merely the beautiful convergence of profit and progress, leaving the rest of us to endure the disinfecting scrub of modernity, which spreads silently like Hannah Arendt’s definition of evil –with neither depth nor dimension, like a fungus, over the surface of all things.

In the face of such banal reforms, and amidst the death and the betrayal and the corruption and delay and disappointment, Treme reminds us of something that the rest of our popular entertainment seeks to skip over – that the circle of life is our lone constant, in all its persistence and pathology.

For better and for worse, our salvation rests with one another.

The writer Bruce Weigl makes a similar point in his similarly underappreciated Blues at the Equinox, a poem about its own form of strange bedfellows: two people moments after a motel hookup. “In the shadows the woman dresses quietly,” Weigl begins, “beyond the light the parking lot spears through thin drapes, her heart inclined towards the miraculous.”

What passes for love,
the miles and the years
and the rivers crossed no one could name,

what passes for love
is not always the fierce blessing
the mortal lovers give—and then grow pale—

but sometimes one heart robbing another
in a rented room, a great sadness
and a great happiness, at the same time, descending.

And so it goes.

(This article also appeared in the Huffington Post.)