100 books like Making Learning Visible

For anyone interested in view of education that is distinctly American and clearly progressive, Dewey’s writings—though challenging—are fundamental and, therefore, worth careful reading and re-reading. And of course, Dewey is read and valued all over the world. I wish that every child had the opportunity to attend a Dewey-inspired school.

When I met Jerry Bruner in the summer of 1965, I had expected to become a clinical psychologist or perhaps a psychoanalyst. However, the chance to work as a research assistant for Bruner as he was developing a social studies curriculum for middle schools was transformative: I decided to become a cognitively oriented developmental psychologist with a focus on the arts.

Both the ideas that Bruner introduced me to and the way in which he interweaved the humanities and social sciences in his writings are never far from my literary consciousness. I am glad that my children had a chance to attend schools where Bruner’s ideas were taken seriously.

A small group of scholars and educators have taken the ideas of progressive education seriously and made them available to ambitious and adventurous educators worldwide.

In his explanations of why Finland has become among the most admired systems in the world, with three editions of this “instant classic,” Sahlberg has provided an important and timely model for progressive educators worldwide.

Among professors of education of our time, Lee Shulman stands out as a thinker, a speaker, and the adviser and role model of scores of excellent researchers and practitioners.

Shulman is primarily a writer of powerful essays. The educational world is fortunate that this volume collects his best thinking and writing. I wish that every teacher and every researcher would read and absorb Shulman’s vision of good education.

My own book title is explicitly an homage to this book, which tells the story of the sterling standard in its heyday. 

It is my dream that readers will put my book next to this one on their bookshelves, reading mine as a continuation of the story that DeCecco tells so masterfully. He is more economic historian, and I am more historian of economic ideas, so the books are different (and his original was in Italian), but they can be read as in conversation with one another. 

This is another book that I look forward to rereading, now that I know more, and engaging more deeply and systematically.

Ada Boni's culinary bible, Il talismano della felicità, first saw the light of day in 1928, six years after Benito Mussolini had succeeded in uniting Italy's quarrelsome regions under the banner of fascism.

Specifically targeted at the nation's housewives - ordinary folk on whose support El Duce rose to power in 1922 - this collection of nearly a thousand simple, practical traditional recipes for regional dishes became the dictator's favourite cookbook, as it did for generations of Italian women (still does). 

I first came across it on an Italian friend's recommendation while researching European Peasant Cookery and attempting to unravel the complicated traditions of a land that remains as fiercely partisan in the kitchen now as then. 

It’s criminal that Celia Dale’s books are almost all out of print. 

Dale dwells in the world of people you wouldn’t look at twice – nice old ladies, sympathetic homemakers, slightly out-of-date romeos – who practice a kind of cruelty that isn’t necessarily obvious to the outside world, but that is nonetheless terrible.

Helping Hand deals with a couple who hurry old ladies to their deaths by means of kindness that’s actually cruel, and a young relative of one of those old ladies, who is herself grotesquely self-centered and uncaring. 

Fortunately, the book is saved by the presence of a decent young Italian woman, who provides hope in a black world.

This book presents six vignettes of sex and violence plucked by Thomas Cohen from the archives of the papal governor of sixteenth-century Rome.

I love Cohen’s passion for telling a good story without losing sight of its broader historical significance. Examining the everyday lives of people in the streets, Cohen reveals how a clash between the contradictory currents of Italian Renaissance society fueled much of its conflicts and discontents.

On the one hand, Christian religion preached mercy, forgiveness, and community, on the other the compelling codes of honor, familial loyalty, and unwritten social rules promoted violence and vengeance.

The book also reveals how women and other socially marginalized figures could navigate and manipulate these codes to find space and freedom in a world dominated by powerful men. 

A book about books.

Who hasn’t imagined the books they read coming to life in their living room or being able to dive into the fictional world? A father and daughter have a magical ability to do just that.

Unfortunately, the villain of one story was released and this sets them off on an adventure typically only available in books.

Meggie and Mo are an endearing father/daughter team while they navigate the consequences and reaches of their magic.

An American journalist, expelled from Italy in 1925, traces roots, rise, and rule of Il Duce in this 1935 book, which is as vivid as its title.

Mussolini appears as a cheap showman, who, “acting the Hero,” revived ancient Roman pomp and spectacles. He was also aware of the power of mass media, especially the cinema, “posing before men and moviemen.”

One of the virtues of Seldes’ book are the extensive quotations, which unmask Mussolini and others in their own words. Fascist documents, quoted at length, include “The Fascist Decalogue” (note its VIII. Commandment!) and the “Fascist Catechism,” which must be read to be (dis)believed.

Seldes’ book has become valuable again in the current age of assorted domestic and foreign media- and image-obsessed demagogues, autocrats, and dictators.