The Problem With Opposition

So we have two camps. On the one hand is the anti-union, pro-charter, pro-testing group called reformers by the MSM (chidingly, "the deformers", by its opposition) and embodied by Michelle Rhee, Joel Klein, and others. The other side is pro-union, anti-charter, anti-testing, without a meaningful name (chidingly, "the status quo", by its opposition) embodied by Diane Ravitch, Deborah Meier, and others.

The reformers gain a lot of ground by consistently trying to come up with evidence for "what works". Whatever effort they endorse, be it merit-pay, charter schools, vouchers, et al, the true test is always, "did the scores go up?". Sometimes they do. Sometimes they don't. But the reformers' job is to try something new and see if the scores go up.

Ravitch et al have a mightier task. The problem with opposing the reformers is that you must constantly prove that nothing works. Schools are not the answer; out of school factors mean much more to student success than anything in school. Test scores are either reflective of a narrowing of curriculum, creamed students, or outright cheating. These are troublesome because (1) you are consistently labeled contrarian and working against the children (2) ultimately your suggestions are political and have more to do with tax policy or our social safety net than schools themselves and (3) you have to spend much time writing "take downs" of what the Rhees of this world are doing, rather than focusing on your own agenda.

Can those that oppose "the reformers" come up with a coherent agenda that will help students and win broad public support?

Can we end the dichotomy?

Heather Harding writes with a unique and untold perspective. If you're TFA are you a tool of corporate deformers? Do you seek radical deconstruction of the public school system?

In many cases, no. Unfortunately the dichotomous nature of our debate leaves no room for perspectives that are "in between" established ideologies.

OK World, What Do I Do?

I want to do something. I want to be involved in improving education in the United States. I want to, specifically, improve education in impoverished urban areas. Why? Because my ability to think is what I cherish the most. I want everyone to have this. Without people that can think for themselves, we're fucking donezo. Climate change, economic meltdowns, you name it, we need need thinkers. To get us to the 22nd century in one piece.

I'll work a twelve hour day and all I want to do is go home and read education blogs.

So call me names. I'm white. OK. I went to college. Yes. It was Ivy League. My parents went to college too. I grew up in the suburbs. Call me what you want. Overpriviliged asshole. Fine. Maybe I don't belong here. What are the options?

1. "Just teach" Work in a traditional public school. Develop an ulcer. Be a grain of sand in a whirling storm. Stand tall with the union. Fight for seniority rights. Know, in my heart of hearts, that I'm "doing right by the kids" and that I have a pension and I've sided with labor, the good guys. Always feel powerless. Never feel respected. Never make enough money. Sit in union meetings and hate myself because all anyone wants to talk about is minutes in the day, not failing students. Feel successful every now and again. Maybe become a principal. Spend my time forcing out senior teachers to fix my budget. Make more money. Fudging numbers. Causing teachers to hate me.

2. "Go 100% charter" I've done it for a few years. Whole-heartedly renounce collective bargaining. Stay in the charter world. Feel respected, feel powerful. Make more money. Be a media darling. Feel successful every day. Feel like shit because I'm on the wrong team, I'm privatizing what should be a public entity. Feel like shit because lots of kids don't make it through our schools. Feel like shit because despite all of our extra money, numbers-fudging, and autonomy, public schools are still compared to us in the media and demonized, unfairly. Maybe become a principal. Create a school some kids and the media will love, but in my heart of hearts, I know is a sham.

3. "Fucking leave" Do something else! I don't belong here and I never did. I have the wrong mentality. The wrong background. The wrong everything. If you can't stand wholeheartedly in one of these camps, there's no place for you. Get out!

4. "Policy wonk" Go to ed school. Get a PhD. Spend the rest of my life writing about what's wrong with charter schools, what's wrong with district schools, and die happy knowing my conscience is clear. At least I didn't fuck anything up. I didn't do anything real. I didn't walk the walk.

Not expecting an answer. I just don't feel optimistic about any of them.

TFA20 - Opening Plenary

Finally found the time to collect my thoughts from the TFA 20th Anniversary Summit, and I must say, if nothing else it was inspiring. It feels good to be reminded that it's OK to "still be a teacher" and to know that, as annoying as TFA may seem at times, its alumni are frequently dedicated, caring people who think about the issues that matter. Well, maybe not every issue that matters.

It was also interesting to get a sense of the current TFA philosophy and I must report that an organization that once (six years ago) felt pro-teacher and that at least tried to stay out of political issues is now pro-"leadership" and has a distinct ideological (pro-charter) slant.

Saturday began with an opening plenary that felt like a high school pep rally in an airplane hangar, complete with rock music and a raucous crowd.

Kaya Henderson, a TFA alumna who has taken over the reins of DCPS, introduced the summit (following a performance by the Ballou High School marching band). She also hinted at the tenor of the day, stating in no uncertain terms, "This is the revolution that we all dreamed about." From there the alarmist histrionics would only increase in urgency.

Wendy Kopp was next. In describing the nature of the alumni force, she dropped an interesting fact bomb: "1500 of you alumni are teachers". Well let's think about that. The total number of alumni was repeatedly stated to be 20,000. 1,500/20,000 = 7.5%. So 7.5% are still teaching. Not the number that gets tossed around in the media.

In her opening address, Wendy established what would be the refrain of the day: (1) we have solved the achievement gap, the recipe has been found, and (2) there is a moral imperative for drastic action, rather than slow, careful change. "We have created 'transformational schools' that make this work sustainable. We know what these schools are doing, and it is not elusive," she said. Later she added, "Incremental change is not enough, we need transformational change."

Immediately questions popped into my head: What is the evidence that any school works? Unsaid all weekend: the evidence is always proficiency rates on state-written assessments. Bunk. It's too easy to test-prep, it's not college readiness, it's not critical thinking. Also, so much evidence shows that real school change is gradual. It has to be gradual. I felt like throwing a copy of The Teaching Gap at the stage. But Kopp would not be the last to demand sudden, explosive change.

Walter Isaacson of the Aspen Institute (what?) then introduced a celebrity "yes!"-panel of edustars that quickly started sounding like Gucci-wearing versions of Karl Marx. First up, Joel Klein had the audacity to channel the Cairo protestors, asking, "Is this our Egypt moment?" He made the pertinent claim, "Each one of you out there, insist that every school is one you would send your own kids to." Fair enough. But couldn't end without echoing Kopp: "We need radical change."

Klein was followed by Dave Levin. The original KIPPster intoned, "We know it's possible. Revolutionary schools exist." He would close: "What will you do to serve the revolution?"

No edreform panel in 2011 would be complete without Michelle Rhee. She began with a proclamation, "We know what works," referencing quickly KIPP and the Harlem Children's Zone, before warning, "Not everyone is going to like us. We need to be aggressive." Oh shit!

HCZ's own Geoffery Canada would be next, stating breathlessly, "I never thought this moment would come." I have a ton of respect for Mr. Canada, and his presence on this panel, for me, legitimized a lot of the summit. I started to think if Geoff's here and Geoff's behind this, then I am too.

Probably least well-known was the last to speak, John Deasy, new leader of LAUSD. Apparently his resume includes work for Prince George's County and the Gates Foundation. "This is a courage issue," he said. "We will not allow rules or regulations to put great teaching in peril."

I kept waiting for one of them to bang his or her shoe on the table.

A lot of the rhetoric I agreed with: "We must professionalize teaching," (Klein); "This is the hardest work on the planet. It's also the most important," (Levin).

But I am ready to deepen the conversation. In addition to the unspoken assumption above (increased test scores = increased everything good), another big assumption is always that "transformational schools" teach kids that are "the same" as their counterparts in the same districts. Are they? Is a poor kid is a poor kid is a poor kid? When Klein says, "Give those same kids a great education, and the outcome is different," what does he really mean? In what sense are the kids "the same"? What "outcome" is he referring to?

When John Deasy says, "Look, we happen to be people of privilege, so what? Our students are not. We are violating our students' rights," what rights is he referring to? What is the purpose of schooling? What rights are guaranteed to in our public school system? Could we ever agree? This is still the question that matters.

"What learning can the state properly demand of its students?"

-Horace's Compromise, p. 85, written in 1984

Today I don't think this question gets the time and thought it deserves. Again, the central term of this question, "learning", is left largely undiscussed. Learning is what the teachers are in charge of; the debate on the other hand, discussed by all of those important people that don't teach, revolves around the machinations of merit pay, school governance models, and union politics. Yes, you want charters schools. Yes, you want vouchers. Yes, you want to recruit better teachers. Yes, you want more accountability. But to what end? What will happen in these schools? Does this deserve your time and attention?

Ted Sizer lists three areas that should be required learning for everyone: (1) literacy, "the ability to...read easily and sensitively enough to comprehend at least the basic arguments presented by contemporary political and social life," (2) numeracy, "the ability to use numbers, arithmetically and algebraically, and to understand the concepts, relationships, and logic embedded in mathematical thought," (3) civic understanding, "a grasp of the basis for consensual democratic government, a respect for its processes, and acceptance of the restraints and obligations incumbent on a citizen," (p.86).

I don't think there would be too much argument with this as a basis for schools today. But then he goes on to say:

However, beyond these three elements, the claims of the state have far less merit. The state has no right to insist that I be "employable" on its terms of what a "career" may be. This is my private matter, and I take the risk that no one will purchase the services that I prepare myself to offer. The state has no right or obligation to tell me how to spend my leisure time. I can enrich myself and the state if I am cultured, but it is unreasonable of the state to impose on me its own definition of culture. As long as my style of life and values do not impinge on those of others, I should have the sovereign right to be what I want to be, including a slob. (p. 86-87, my bold)

Sizer goes on to write that "encouraging" particular careers or definitions of culture should be acceptable, to contrast with mandating these things. He rounds out his thoughts with the claim that, "Americans must come to terms with the limits on compulsion, on the minimal reasonable claims of the state on the time and minds of young citizens," (p. 87).

Today, this would fall into the category of "soft bigotry". The reform climate pushes college on everyone. Paternalistic charter schools do push a particular, middle-class culture on students. The goal of high-paying careers for as many people as possible seems to be the unspoken goal of our system. (And with good reason! Widening inequality has put those without a college degree in a very difficult position.)

Moreover, so much of today's educational discussion seems to be tied to our national economic interests (this is a particularly egregious example). Presumably, if we send everyone to college and prepare people for careers in science and technology, our GDP will rise and America will maintain its superpower status. Should this be the goal of our schools? Are there practical implications for making this the goal of our schools? If we are society that has become obsessed with our own gross domestic product and little else, we will likely create students that are obsessed with our GDP, or their own personal wealth, and little else.

We need to bring learning and the purpose of schools back to the table. I think Sizer's three criteria are a good starting place.

Rambling, incoherent

Ted Sizer wrote: "We rarely underestimate the difficulties of learning. Having had to learn, we know that it is a complicated and unpredictable business," (Horace's Compromise, p. 2).

In today's climate, I disagree. I believe the wide majority, those that have never taught, regularly discount any challenge related to learning.

You're in sixth grade and you can't add fractions with unlike denominators with 80% accuracy? There's something wrong with your teacher. Or maybe you. You're lazy, kid. Get with it.

As every punishment must fit its crime, so too must every reform correspond to a particular failing of the system. Witness the rise of the "no excuses" mantra. Want to outlaw excuses? Someone must have been making a whole damn lot of them.

Can anyone who has never taught fractions really have an opinion? Should we really be listening to them at all? I'm not trying to be divisive, I really want to know. Should Bill Gates really be a powerful voice on education? Something tells me learning fractions was never that hard for him.

Is learning hard? Teaching? What does it even mean to learn? Have you ever learned? How do you know? How could you prove it to someone? Is there more than one way to prove it? Who or what caused your learning? How do you know? Do any of these questions even matter? To whom?

Until we, and I mean everyone, really wrestle with these ideas I see little hope for progress. Hold up a great school. Let's take a look. What's that, you say? The students have learned a lot? According to whom or what source? What did they learn? Did your school teach it to them? How do you know?

Popular assumptions undergird the debate. We are quick to applaud a school with high test scores. This is unquestionably a place where much learning has taken place; thus it deserves our attention. Left unwondered: are high scores really evidence of learning? What in fact, causes high scores on this particular exam? Do we know that the school played a role in causing the high scores?

Those few that ask these questions find a small audience and risk the label of contrarian.

Teaching Is What Matters

I've recently picked up Horace's Compromise by the late Ted Sizer. I'll try to post as I go through it. So much of this book rings true to me (though some parts need updating for the 21st century) I have a feeling there will be more to write, but the first thought is with respect to teaching.

From the introduction: "Curiously most of us, lay people and educators alike, tend to underrate teaching...We can play at learning, without retaining much save the temporary pleasure of the play, and we can act the teacher, strutting expectable stuff in front of blackboards. Real learning and real teaching require more." This is obviously still true. Few of those with a mainstream voice on education policy are willing to examine the details of what great teaching entails. Certainly for the policy wonks, actual teaching is a radioactive substance best left to those slovenly masses who actually have to handle it on a daily basis. They would much rather focus on the important stuff: parsing the intricacies of school governance models or arguing endlessly about national standards.

Last April, the New York Times ran a piece about out-of-work professionals turning to teaching amid the recession. Pam Grossman, ed professor at Stanford, made some insightful statements. She wrote (bold is mine):

Because all of us have spent thousands of hours in classroom observing teachers, we may underestimate the skill required to engage a group of children or adolescents and ensure that they are learning. Much of the teaching we do in everyday life, as parents or employers, involves telling or tutoring. As parents, we help children with math homework, test them on their vocabulary words, answer their questions. But teaching is much more than telling, and teachers have to know more than right answers.

My impression is that most reformers working from without, who have little or no experience teaching, likely misunderstand fully any and all problems with our educational system, since they likely misunderstand fully any and all aspects of teaching. If teaching is a sort of knowledge transfer then logically any problem must lie with its agents; the teller or the telling is flawed.

Let me ask: Bill Gates, when you consider a high school with low math scores, do you shake your head and and wonder how teachers could not give accurate lectures on the quadratic formula? Do you wish that teachers would write equations more clearly on the blackboard? That they had more mathematical knowledge? That there were more and neater examples on paper?

Anyone with classroom experience will know that in many cases, it doesn't matter how clear your message is to the kids; it takes more and varied approaches. It takes student action and engagement with the content; it takes relevance to student lives (and I'm not talking about putting homework on an iPhone). It takes myriad other techniques, tasks, and ideas.

If teachers are going to shape the future of education, then we need to do a better job of convincing the public of what it really means to be a good teacher. Which means teachers' unions doing a better job of highlighting their star teachers and what they do. Which means media coverage that is more than a feeble-minded dichotomy between syrupy sweet Hollywood martyr-pics and "serious" articles and op-eds decrying the corruption and entitlement among teachers.

Maybe we need David Simon to make an HBO series about real schools.