The John Wick Paradox is Destroying Education

I was a librarian yesterday, and all I can think about is John Wick.

I generally have low expectations of the lesson plans I receive as a guest teacher. I only take jobs that are pre-arranged, so I surmise there has been some thought in terms of what the learners will do during the day. I’m generally disappointed, and I adjust. There is usually something missing: some angle they forgot to include or some tidbit that was left out. Often this isn’t a big deal; sometimes it can be maddening.

It’s one of the reasons I email the educator the week before and inquire as to what the lesson plan is and the schedule for the day. Most respond and send whatever they have. Others ignore the email entirely. It’s a crapshoot. I had no communication with my latest assignment.

When I walked into the building, I had no idea what I was to do. It’s a very interesting feeling. You’re expected to navigate a new network of adults and learners without knowing what you have to do. I was given the keys as usual and told how to get to the library. I opened the door and went lesson plan hunting.

As a rule, I don’t search behind locked doors or in drawers. First, it’s a privacy issue. This is someone else’s space, not mine. If there is something for me, it should be easy for me to find. This is why I usually insist on lesson plans up front. An email conversation generally informs me of where materials will be, what I’ll be asked to do, and so on. Not in this case.

Eventually, I found the lesson “plans” and realized this was going to be an interesting day. I get to schools early enough to review lesson plans, understand them, and edit if necessary. These plans were uninspiring. I was told that there were whiteboards available for my use and that there was no need to use the Newline interactive board at the front of the room. I chuckled and turned the board on.

I had lunchroom duty, so I scurried off to pace through wave after wave of toothless smiles, giggling faces, and pre-middle schoolers. Upon my return, the library aide was there. I peppered her with questions about how the classroom worked and whether the young people came in with their Chromebooks. She answered my questions and indicated that learners arrived with no technology whatsoever and she had seen no technology used in the classroom.

John Wick, I thought. John Wick.

I retired from teaching in 2021, but not for the reasons one might think. The pandemic had demonstrated to me what was possible as an educator, and I didn’t want to go back to doing business the way we had. When we came back to in-person learning, what I saw was education returning to what it had been prior to the pandemic, and it depressed me.

Deficit thinking. Covid gaps. “Devices had destroyed learning.” There was little talk of how the system was ill-prepared for the shift in philosophy, presentation, and pedagogy that was called for during the pandemic. The devices had failed, “distance” learning didn’t work, and, once we made it to the other side, it was time to return to “basics.” No mention of the mandatory passive vampirism that edtech companies had wiggled into classrooms. The issue wasn’t the devices; it was what was being done on them.

The John Wick Paradox is what I have dubbed the philosophy of many educators post-pandemic: an unbridled focus on analog tools and pedagogy without using them as a springboard to digital tools and pedagogy.

In the 2014 film “John Wick,” there is a poignant scene where Viggo the crime boss informs his son, Iosef, that he once witnessed Wick kill three men in a bar with a pencil. This, of course, breeds fear in the mind of his son and is meant to demonstrate what a formidable hit man Wick is. However, the focus of the story isn’t the pencil; it’s the skill of the wielder. The story is actually saying: if he can do this with a pencil, imagine what he can do with the other weapons at his disposal. Teachers are focusing on the “pencil” instead of the reason behind the story.

The fear isn’t that Wick would attack you with a pencil. It’s inefficient at scale. The fear is that this is a master of any tool his hands can touch, analog or otherwise. He’s been trained to use any and everything in the pursuit of his goals. While a pencil will do in a pinch, it’s probably not the tool of choice when there are katana-clad ninjas and pistol-waving assassins around.

Being trained in hand-to-hand combat is important, but your training should not stop there. It should continue into the use of modern tools and techniques as well. The problem is focusing on the pencil and forgetting that for the entire movie, Wick dismantles his opposition without the use of a pencil at all. He channels his passion, perseverance, and “sheer will” using a variety of tools.

Given that I didn’t have time to amend the lesson plans or any way to inform teachers that their Chromebooks would be required during library, I started to sketch in my notebook a plan that was feasible given my limitations. No Chromebooks. No relationships with learners or teachers. No idea what was going on in classrooms. I asked the library aide more questions while staring at the clock to gauge time. I was looking for “pencils.” I finally had a workable concept finished when the first class walked in.

I looked at the graphic organizers I was asked to use during the lessons. For the younger grades, I was to read a story and have the young people write sentences and then color. For the older grades I was to read a few pages from two books, have them ask questions, and then draw and color. There were no scaffolds, no engagement. No “sheer will.” It was probably the worst day of my guest teaching experience, to be honest.

As the classes came in and took their seats, I asked what they were reading in their homeroom class. Some could answer; some could not. We used the interactive whiteboard to write down ideas as they arrived, without pencils, paper, or devices. Using the list that was generated gave me a good idea of how to tie the books I was going to read to their classroom experiences and make the lesson somewhat purposeful.

The younger grades had been studying the different continents and how plants grow. The book I was to read them was about helping. We discussed how helping could be applied to sharing the world and caring for plants. We listed possible ways on the whiteboard so that those who needed scaffolds for their sentences could use the board as a reference. They then illustrated their sentences.

For the older grades, I followed the same protocol, but I wanted them to think about the books they had just finished and returned to the library. We made another circle map on the board and asked for ideas. This gave me insight into how to present the two books I was to read to them. They were able to see the connection, make their decisions on the graphic organizer, write their answers, and illustrate as needed.

I would have liked to have had the lesson plans beforehand, but it worked in a pinch. I found my pencil, used the technology I was asked not to use, and got through the day unscathed. I also made a great contact with the library aide.

In 2026, the pencil is still useful. Nobody is saying burn it. But what happens when there’s no pencil in the room and something more complex is waiting? Learners deserve to walk in ready for any tool. You can’t build that readiness by staying strictly analog.