[Header Photo by Roger Starnes Sr on Unsplash]
I attended public schools in the rural South from 1967 to 1979, including three years in junior high school from 1973 to 1976 (punctuated by the US Bicentennial).
Junior high included grades 7 through 9; some of those ninth graders could drive so mornings a few students would roll into the parking lot and smoke would billow out of the car, students emerging like rock stars through the cloud of the cigarettes and pot they were smoking.
The bathrooms at that school were also filled constantly with a gray and yellow fog, the smell of marijuana strong throughout the school and on most of our clothes simply from going to the bathroom between classes.
I was always a good student, and frankly, school was easy for me even in the top classes. I was on the basketball team and had many friends who were not in those top classes.
And, as almost everyone has experienced, we were mostly told by the adults that we were dumb and lazy as a box of rocks—not like in their day as young people.
I entered the classroom as a teacher of high school students in 1984 right out of college so I have been directly in the formal education system across seven decades.
My doctoral work was grounded in the history of education, that work reaching back into the beginning of the twentieth century.
And here is the problem: “Kids today” at every point that I can find (not across just decades but centuries) are always considered at any point of now to be dumb and lazy as a box of rocks.
This graphic is causing a stir on social media:

We are in a high point as well of adults shouting that “kids today” cannot do math, cannot read, and of course, “kids today” don’t read.
I currently teach at a selective liberal arts college. The students are among the top high school students, having come out of elite private schools and many have been in Advanced Placement and International Baccalaureate programs.
Since the “kids today” mantra has included a current wave of bashing college students (another tired mantra)—they don’t read, and they can’t read extended texts, like complete books—I have asked my students about those charges (and of course, I assign a great deal of reading, including books, as well as all of my students write essays).
As much or maybe even more so than my students over 42 years of teaching, these students have, in fact, been assigned many books in high school, often in their college classes, and even read by choice, many eagerly sharing their favorite writers and series.
I can attest without hesitation that “kids today” over my teaching career have been mostly about the same as you’d expect teens and young adults to be, but if anything, they are smarter and have more challenging K-12 educations year after year.
I do think that the Covid era has had some unique negative consequences for current cohorts of students, and some of that is reflected in the reductive ways we determine if students are learning, mostly test scores.
And that leads back to the chart above; I don’t see anyone noting this is data from NAEP (a national random-selected population of students) and it is self-reported by the students (who are not held accountable in any way for their test scores or the data they provide).
I have never been convinced that NAEP scores are that valuable in terms of what and how student learning is measured, but I can assure you that self-reported data by those students is likely even weaker evidence of anything.
NAEP scores, in fact, like all standardized testing is a far greater reflection of the lives students are living outside of schools than of the quality of their learning in formal schooling.
Children and teens living without food or housing security as well as with little or no access to healthcare are likely finding little time or motivation to read for pleasure, and their intellectual batteries are drained by the lives resulting in not being able to fully engage with the few hours a day for about half the year when they are in classes that may be overcrowded or taught by an un- or under-certified teacher being paid poorly and attacked as a groomer and an indoctrinator by the current political climate.
Most of my college students have had much more privileged lives than the average child or teen in the US so it is worth nothing, as well, that they invariably say they want to read more but the main reason they don’t is schooling. They simply do not have time to read while they are taking courses, and they add that the assigned reading tends to also discourage them from reading (the pervasive obsession with assigning novels and focusing on the canon has never worked to motivate students).
There seems to be something futile and hollow about “adults today” perpetually criticizing “kids today,” particularly when adults today were themselves kids at some point in their lives also then accused of being dumb and lazy as a bag of rocks.
The “kids today” crisis rhetoric, I believe, is much more a reflection of adults, the cynicism of aging and the loss we all feel as we move further and further away from our childhood and teens years.
Kids today are not dumb and lazy as a bag of rocks, but they do have something we adults can never recover—youth.
But I can assure you that finding children and young people fascinating, fun, and surprising is a far better way to navigate growing older.
I am very lucky as a teacher of young people, and equally blessed by young grandchildren, who I assure you are not dumb and lazy as a bag of rocks.
I will always resist the crisis rhetoric around education and “kids today” because it defies logic that “kids today” have always been dumb and lazy as a box of rocks.
However, if anyone would like to launch into a criticism of adults today, I may be willing to join in.

























