The Tempered Radical

Really Expensive Overhead Projectors....

I can honestly say that I have never seen an overhead projector outside of a school, yet each fall, fleets of these antiques are rolled out of supply closets like aircraft carriers, gliding along corridors on carts complete with spools of clear film and cases of markers, ready to stain fingers and bore minds. 

Whenever I stumble across a teacher whose red fingers belie a love of the overhead, I put on the full-court digital press. "Have you thought about trying to use Web 2.0 tools in your classroom yet?"  I'll ask. Most often, the answer is no. By far, the most commonly quoted reason that the overhead still dominates instruction are limited numbers of classroom computers. "I only have two computers in my room," they'll say. "What am I supposed to do with that?"

My answer: Tons of stuff. How do I know? Because I only have three computers and an Internet connection in my classroom and we've jumped off the digital deep end!

A few suggestions:

Starting a classroom wiki as an easy first step into the virtual pool. These collaborative websites allow any user to add and edit information from any computer that has access to the Internet. My students have been jazzed by our wiki, creating over 80 pages of content related to our classroom curriculum since October. Providing opportunities for students to reflect on and revise their own thinking about school lessons is a great way to reinforce learning.  efore long, your children will be posting to your wiki from home, from the computer lab, from the public library...and from the two computers in your classroom. 

Best of all, learning to use a wiki is a lot like learning to fall off a bike—anyone can do it the first time you try! Wikis have editing toolbars that look just like most word processing programs and require nothing more than finding the "save" button to make updates. Most wiki services offer free wikis to educators. My favorite service (and I've tried each of "the big three") is PB Wiki.

Next, fire up a classroom blog or discussion board that gives students the opportunity to debate meaningful issues related to your curriculum with one another—and with an audience beyond your classroom. Blogs make student work public, bringing a measure of transparency to content conversations and student thinking that is rarely seen in traditional classrooms. 

Students learn to listen to alternate viewpoints, shape their own thinking about topics, and wrestle with topics they may otherwise have never tackled. Don't believe me?  Check out this post written on a student blog called The Blurb that questions what makes one heroic. Blogging is also easy...and free. Many teachers blogging with students have set up classroom forums using Blogger, a Google tool that is becoming more and more sophisticated over time.

Need another idea? Start some simple pod/vodcasting with your students. Recording audio reflections on stories and classroom curriculum has become easier than ever with new tools like Voicethread that allow users to narrate simple slide shows with nothing other than a microphone and an Internet connection. I created my first Voicethread for use in my classroom today in about 25 minutes. It's titled Looking into Faces, and it is designed to introduce my children to people from countries around the world. Like all of the other tools I've mentioned, Voicethread is free. 

What leaves me most excited about digital tools is that each time I show my students what I've created using Web 2.0 tools, they come up with ten new ways to use them in their work in five minutes. Completely unintimidated, I see engaging applications and continued growth for months on end. That's just how kids who have grown up connected roll. Soon, I become the novice again, learning new tricks from twelve year olds. 

That reality convinces me that incorporating technology into classroom instruction is rarely a hardware or software issue. In fact, I doubt that any number of new computers and whiteboards will significantly change instruction at all. Over investing in bells and whistles has gotten many districts nothing more than classrooms decked out with really expensive overhead projectors.

Instead, we need to invest in professional development that exposes teachers to the tools that our students have already adopted. As Marc Prensky wrote almost two years ago in his Edutopia article Adopt and Adapt, "If we want to move the useful adoption of technology forward, it is crucial for educators to learn to listen, to observe, to ask and to try all the new methods their students have already figured out, and do so regularly."

 

Armchair Educators and School Reform....

I stumbled onto an interesting--albeit belated--strand of thinking the other day started by the Education Wonks when they wrote:

Why is it that so many would-be EduReformers (who are so quick to criticise our public schools) would never consider going into a classroom and actually work with children themselves?

We weren't the first one to notice....

Some of us who do serve children on a daily basis continue to be amazed at the large number of non-teaching teaching experts that are out there.

Maybe it would do many of 'em some good if these "armchair educators" went down to their local school district, filled out an application, and, if nothing else, did a little substitute classroom teaching.

We think that this person might find such an experience to be enlightening.

Matt Johnston, author of Going to the Mat, replied:

I will tell you why.

I am a taxpayer, I have a constitutional right and a duty to petition the government (that includes school boards, administrator and teachers) for a redress of my greivances. If that makes me an "armchair" edu-reformer then so be it and I will wear the title with pride.

I also can read data pretty well. The data tells me that our schools have not improved in nearly 40 years, that test scores have remained flat and that there are better methods available to be tried. I see evidence of reluctance to try anything new.

As an attorney, if my clients don't like my services, they are free to find other representation. Public school kids don't have that choice and so it is up to us parents and "armchair edu-reformers" to take up the cause--ca ause too many politicians, teachers and certainly the teachers unions have proven unfit for the task.

Now, I genuinely like Johnston. His work is reasoned and thoughtful, unlike critics of education that resort only to spitting venom. And in this case, I think he's got at least one legitimate point: Lack of school choice sentences students in underperforming schools to poor educations with no recourse. There is something inherently wrong in a system where we knowingly overlook the very real fact that some schools are serving children far better than others. Students of poverty deserve more.

We disagree on where the blame for this reality lies. When Johnston argues that teachers have proven unfit for the task, he is pointing fingers in the wrong direction. Teachers working in troubled schools face barriers that are almost insurmountable, attempting to address the social, emotional and academic challenges of children who have been overlooked by a society comfortable with the growing economic gap separating rich families from the poor. What's more, teachers in troubled schools often go without basic resources, time, parental support and professional development in facilities that are crumbling around them.

That's where the Ed Wonks argument that "Armchair Educators" should spend some time in schools carries weight. Once reformers realize exactly how little control teachers have over the results of "the system," they will be able to put the proper target in their crosshairs and offer real suggestions for driving change based on an understanding of the reality of our work.

 

Multiple Viewpoints: Obsoledge

Not long ago, I wrote a bit spotlighting the thinking of Alvin Toeffler who argued in an Edutopia article titled "Future School" that schools swamp students in discrete bits of information that quickly become obsolete in a digital world where new knowledge is generated at an amazing pace. Schools, Toeffler argues, overemphasize these discrete bits of knowledge to the detriment of students. He writes:

"We have this enormous bank of obsolete knowledge in our heads, in our books, and in our culture. When change was slower, obsoledge didn't pile up as quickly. Now, because everything is in rapid change, the amount of obsolete knowledge that we have — and that we teach — is greater and greater and greater. We're drowning in obsolete information. We make big decisions — personal decisions —- based on it, and public and political decisions based on it."

I was really challenged by Toeffler and sent the article out to a few friends who've been sounding boards about educational issues for a long time. We decided to blend our interest in blogging and podcasting with our interest in school reform by recording our reaction to Toeffler's piece independently and posting them here without talking to one another at all! We figured that it would be cool to see the intersections and divergences between our positions and wondered if our role in the system would influence our responses.      

To focus our recordings, I set this central question:

Given the skill set of teachers in the majority of America's classrooms, are the kinds of constructivist strategies that Toeffler argues for really possible (plausible) at the school, district or state level?  If not, how do we get to the point where teaching and learning focuses more on real world experiences and less on discrete bits of knowledge that will soon be obsolete?

Adam Garry was the first to respond. Adam is responsible for oversight of Pearson Achievement Solutions' technology integration and national professional development. A former elementary school teacher, Adam has presented at conferences across the country, including Alan November's conferences and has written articles on technology integration for several education publications.

He also developed a four-day WebQuest training (online and face-to-face) for K-12 teachers, blended professional development for the Dell Exchange, and a curriculum alignment action priority. Adam received a BA in Elementary Education and a Master's in Teaching and Learning with a Technology emphasis and is currently working on a certificate in Administration and Supervision from Johns Hopkins.

Here are Adam's thoughts on Obsoledge:

Download obsoledge_adam.mp3

(Impatient User Warning:  it's quicker to right click this link and save it to your desktop than it is to stream this recording over the Internet) 

My response came next. As most of you know, I've been a practicing classroom teacher for the past 14 years. During that time, I've earned certification from the National Board for Professional Teaching Standards as a Middle Childhood Generalist—and renewed my certification for the first (of what will likely be two) times. Some days I'm highly qualified and others I'm just agitated.      

I've also served as the Teacher in Residence at The Center for Teaching Quality, a Senior Fellow in the Teacher Leaders Network, and a Policy Consultant for TeacherSolutions and been recognized as a District and Regional Teacher of the Year in my state.  I've written for several different education journals including Threshold, Teacher Magazine, and The Journal for Staff Development. What I'm probably best known for, however, is my determination to remain a classroom teacher—and for drinking a dozen Diet Cokes a day.

Here were my thoughts on Obsoledge:

Download obsoledge_bill.mp3

(Impatient User Warning:  it's quicker to right click this link and save it to your desktop than it is to stream this recording over the Internet) 

Over the next week or so, I'm expecting to get another recording or two. I'll post them as they trickle in. If you're interested in sharing your thoughts, jump right in! Either send an short MP3 recording—along with some biographical information about your interest/role in education—to wmferriter [at] gmail [dot] com or leave a comment below.

Might be kind of fun to see what "Multiple Viewpoints" can become!

This Ain't Your Father's Oldsmobile...

I was doing some blog browsing this morning and found some interesting connections between posts from Brett on the DeHavilland Blog and Brian Mull over at November Learning. Brett sparked my thinking with these thoughts:

I was rereading a classic marketing article—Marketing Myopia, by Theodore Levitt (found in this excellent book)—and came across the following:

In a sense [Henry] Ford was both the most brilliant and the most senseless marketer in American history. He was senseless because he refused to give the customer anything but a black car. He was brilliant because he fashioned a production system designed to fit market needs.

We habitually celebrate him for the wrong reason, his production genius. His real genius was marketing. We think he was able to cut his selling price and therefore sell millions of $500 cars because his invention of the assembly line had reduced the costs. Actually he invented the assembly line because he had concluded that at $500 he could sell millions of cars. Mass production was the result, not the cause, of his low prices.

This is a fantastic new take on a classic story (and apparently a true one, based on Ford’s writings). And it illustrates a critical difference between how most people fulfill a market need, and how a visionary like Henry Ford does.

Most people look at what they have, or what they do, and try to figure out where to sell it. Ford figured out what people wanted—in this case, an affordable car—and figured out how to give it to them. Hence, the invention of the assembly line, a means to an end which enabled him to provide that car affordably.

What if we applied this to public education? It seems as if the tremendous legacy system we have limits our vision, forcing us to think in terms of what the current system can do, and preventing us from thinking about what it is our customers need. What if we wiped the slate clean—forgot about all the buildings, the standard course of study, the bus schedules, the textbooks, the lunchroom, and everything else—and started from square one? What if we looked at what the customers of public education (students, parents, other stakeholders) really need, and how we can fill that need?

If we identified any of the following as a true want/need of education consumers, how would we retool the system to make them possible a la Henry Ford?

Brett's questions are brilliant because the vision and purpose for public education has become muddled by the cacophony of voices trying to shape direction for our schools. Put 10 random adults in a room and ask them what their "true wants and needs for education" are and you're quite likely to get ten different answers—not to mention a headache, high blood pressure and a darn good argument!

Consider this list of goals for schools compiled by a Superintendent in Missouri that Brian Mull found and recently shared with his readers:

America’s public schools can be traced back to the year 1640. The Massachusetts Puritans established schools to:

1. Teach basic reading, some writing, and arithmetic skills, and

2. Cultivate values that serve a democratic society (some history and civics).

From 1900 to 1910, we added nutrition - immunization - and health to the list of school responsibilities.

From 1910 to 1930, we added Physical Education, including organized athletics - the practical arts - vocational education, including home economics and agricultural education, and - school transportation began to be mandated.

In the 1940’s, we added business education - art and music - speech and drama - half day kindergarten, and - school lunch programs appeared (We take this for granted today. It was, however, a significant step to shift to the schools the job of feeding America’s 1/3 of their daily meals.)

In the 1950’s, we added expanded science and math education - safety education - driver’s education - expanded music and art education - foreign language requirements were strengthened, and - sex education was introduced (topics continue to escalate).

In the 1960’s, we added Advanced Placement programs - Head Start - Title I - adult education - career education - peace, leisure, and recreation education.

In the 1970’s, the breakup of the American family accelerated, and we added - special education (mandated by Federal Government - Title IX programs (greatly expanded athletic programs for female students) - drug and alcohol abuse education - parent education - behavior adjustment classes - character education - environmental education - school breakfast programs appeared (Now, some schools feed America’s children 2/3 of their daily meals.)

In the 1980’s, the flood gates opened, and we added keyboarding and computer education - global education - ethnic education - multicultural/non-sexist education - English-as-a-second-language, and bilingual education - Teen pregnancy awareness - Hispanic heritage education - Early childhood education - Jump Start, Early Start, Even Start, and Prime Start - full day Kindergarten - pre-school programs for children at-risk - after school programs for children of working parents - alternative education in all its forms - stranger/danger education - anti-smoking education - sexual abuse prevention education - health and psychological services were expanded, and - child abuse monitoring became a legal requirement for all teachers.

In the 1990’s, we added conflict resolution and peer mediation - HIV/AIDS education - CPR training - death education - expanded computer and Internet education - inclusion - Tech Prep and School to Work programs - gang prevention education (in urban centers) - bus safety, bicycle safety, gun safety, and water safety education.

In the first years of the 21st century, we have superimposed upon everything else a layer of high-stakes, standardized tests.

Whew! Is anyone surprised when teachers tell you that they're exhausted by the daily demands of their work? Can we ever hope to succeed in a system swamped by a million different goals set by a million different special interest groups wanting to take us in a million different directions?  What's more, do we have any chance of down-sizing expectations in a culture where "Biggie-Sizing" everything has become a national pastime?

What is it that we really want from schools?

Staffing High Needs Schools....

Reading about the Bush Administration's plans to force teachers to transfer to troubled schools left me remembering my neighborhood school, Northwoods Elementary.  Northwoods was a place where I felt safe, where my classmates were the same year after year and where parents were actively involved as tutors and PTA volunteers.  It was a place that neighbors could rally around and come together for events, building a sense of unity that spread across subdivisions and throughout our community.

The teachers at Northwoods were nothing short of outstanding.  I remember being involved in creative activities designed by Mr. Nowak and Mr. Tribula.  Mr. Earl, who was my band teacher, challenged me time and again.  Our school was consistently recognized for academic success because of the commitment of our teachers to continual growth, to one another and to their students.

There can be no question that the teachers of Northwoods were a significant factor in the success that the children of our community went on to experience.  Their accomplishment provided the foundation for ours.  In that sense, I understand the intent behind plans whose final goal is to guarantee that every child has the opportunity to experience a highly accomplished teacher.

But forced transfers to high poverty schools is yet another simplistic solution to a complex educational problem.  Until we make the serious investments necessary to restructure schools of poverty as places where accomplished teachers want to teach, we will fail in an endeavor that is at once well-intentioned and essential.

We need to begin by ensuring that our highest needs schools are led by our most accomplished administrators.  When principals work to develop a positive relationship with their faculties, the entire school benefits from the sense of collegiality.  As researcher Linda Darling-Hammond has written, effective school leadership has a "magnetic" effect, attracting accomplished teachers who are searching for environments that will allow them to reach their peak performance level.  Data from the North Carolina Teacher Working Conditions Survey supports Darling-Hammond's assertions--fully 30% of NC teachers cite school leadership as a significant factor in their decision to stay or to leave their current buildings.   

We can also provide accomplished teachers with the professional flexibility to do what it is that they do best:  identify needs and then design instruction tailored for the students in their classrooms.  Rigid attempts to control the work of teachers in high-needs schools chase away motivated educators who thrive on the mental creativity of the act of teaching.  As one of my colleagues recently wrote, "If I'm allowed to utilize my teaching expertise--to draw from what it is that I know will engage and stimulate my students--then students will achieve at levels that no one could dream of.  It is only when I'm hampered that I can't do what it is that I do best."

We can provide additional time and training to teachers in our highest needs schools and communities.  Meeting the academic and social demands of children living in poverty requires a set of skills that few educators--regardless of level of experience--are prepared for.  Opportunities to engage in high quality, teacher driven professional development during the course of the school day and year will help to ensure that teachers in high needs communities experience success with economically and culturally diverse student populations.

Finally, we can reconsider the use of external accountability models that result in schools of poverty being labeled "failures" in the eyes of the community.  We do little to emotionally reward teachers who work in high needs buildings--relying instead on their altruism as a retention strategy--and current accountability systems are loaded in favor of teachers in less demanding schools.  Such systems only serve to demoralize teachers and to discourage them from accepting difficult assignments.

Looking back, I'm challenged by my neighborhood school experience.  Sometimes I wonder, "Was I successful only because my parents were able to move into the right home in the right neighborhood with the right school?"  Neighborhood schools worked for my family, but who did they fail?  Wouldn't every parent--if they could--have chosen to move into my neighborhood.

What's more, I often feel a sense of shame for having spent the majority of my career working in affluent suburban schools.  My students have every advantage---and while I firmly believe that they deserve accomplished teachers as well, I know that I have, in a sense, avoided the children who need me the most.

But some part of me believes that the real shame belongs to educational decision makers who fail to commit energies and resources to addressing what is a very real and very complex problem.  We have a responsibility to all children...and to meet that responsibility, we must be able to guarantee that students of poverty have access to our most accomplished educators. 

Meeting that responsibility, however, requires more that simply reworking collective bargaining agreements to allow for forcible transfers of senior teachers to troubled schools. 

 

Shuford Pushback

Jake, in response to my Spitting Venom post, wrote:

Regarding criticism in general, I'm sure you will agree that understanding the faults of a system is important to improving it. I would hope that you would welcome such criticism and respond to it with reasoned analysis of why it is wrong or how legitimate problems can be addressed.

In a way, your post could be seen as an example of the very practice you are criticizing. You denigrate what Shuford has to say, but you offer no advice for him to improve his advocacy aside from implying that he should change his mind to believe what you do.

Point well taken, Jake....I was definitely spitting my own venom the other day.

I've actually written on school choice--Shuford's main target--a few times in the last several months. In fact, last night I was shooting the breeze with a friend of mine—Dr. Parry Graham—-who I generally think is brilliant. He'd read my Boortz on Choice post and sparked my thinking by comparing school choice to America's struggles with health care. 

"Health care and education are both essential services that people have to have," he said. "And yet we're comfortable allowing 50 million Americans to live without the basic medical attention that they need.  Are we comfortable with seeing the same trends in schooling? Because that's what we'll end up with if we switched to a school choice model and abandoned public schools completely."

I actually like Graham's comparison between health care and education because it demonstrates America's apparent comfort level with drastic differences between the lives of the rich and the poor in our country. That comfort allows school choice advocates to argue that little harm will be done in a system where "neighborhoods" have control. Is there really any doubt that the schools serving wealthy children will be better staffed or supplied than those serving the poor? 

I've also written about teacher quality—another one of Shuford's concerns—wondering if we have the kind of profession that can successfully attract and retain accomplished teachers and whether or not teachers are assertive enough to own their own profession. I've looked at the challenges that NBCTs face in trying to serve as school leaders and the logical ways to hold teachers accountable for their performance. 

The intent of my Spitting Venom post, however, wasn't to debate the merits of school choice. Instead, it was to call attention to how the "battle" over education is increasingly being fought. Critics pull out propaganda tricks in order to try to bury the public in half-truths. Demonizing schools and teachers is often their only move. Consider these quotes from Shuford:

1. Today’s college-of-education apple has not fallen far from that training-service-for-cooks-and-house-maids tree. 
2. Limited academic talent of too many educators.
3. Politicians secure the political support of teacher-training institutions, educators of limited ability and their unions by making sure that parents/families — unless they have means or are willing to make extraordinary sacrifices — have no options.
4. This is the perfect structure for “inadequately educating” children, enfeebling families and weakening neighborhoods and communities.

The name calling, character assassinations over generalizations and doomsday thinking found in this one short piece (and, admittedly, in my response) are part of a repeating pattern playing out on hundreds of radio dials and in hundreds of newspapers every day. It is that open animosity—often packaged as "understanding the faults of a system"—that I've grown tired of.

Spitting Venom....

One of my greatest frustrations as a classroom teacher are critics who regularly hurl stones at the public school system without offering any productive solutions to the "educational crises" that they seem to find around every turn. Conservative radio show hosts and policy organizations seem committed only to tearing down a system of education that continues to serve our nation well and is respected by many of our international competitors.

Consider these thoughts, written and recently published in a Rhode Island newspaper by retired teacher Tom Shuford—a school choice advocate who has argued that diversity actually hurts communities:

At no charge, I can tell Rhode Island a lot more about how to “adequately educate” its youngsters than any $135,000 150-page report prepared by Florida consultants. Inadequate education has origins in four deep structural factors:

1) Anti-academic bias in colleges of education: Teachers College at Columbia University, the nation’s premier pedagogical institution, traces its origins to the Kitchen Garden Association, which was incorporated in 1880 to train girls for domestic service. In 1887 the institution began to train teachers. It was renamed Teachers College in 1889. Today’s college-of-education apple has not fallen far from that training-service-for-cooks-and-house-maids tree.

2) Limited academic talent of too many educators: Picture a bell-shaped curve of scores on the Graduate Record Examination, which is a kind of SAT for prospective graduate students. Mean GRE scores of all the education majors —- with the exception of secondary education (in the middle) — are bunched on the far left side of the bell curve.

3) Political power of the education establishment: An Illinois study found that in any given year a tenured teacher’s chances of being fired for poor job performance were about 1 in 47,000.

4) Powerlessness of parents/families: Politicians secure the political support of teacher-training institutions, educators of limited ability and their unions by making sure that parents/families — unless they have means or are willing to make extraordinary sacrifices — have no options.

This is the perfect structure for “inadequately educating” children, enfeebling families and weakening neighborhoods and communities.

While Shuford begins by claiming to be able to "tell Rhode Island how to adequately educate its youngsters," his piece includes absolutely no positive suggestions for improvement of public schools.  Instead, his writing quickly devolves into an unproductive rant mirroring the half-truths pushed by critics for decades. 

My favorite Shuford-ism:  #4:  Parents are powerless because politicians are making shady deals with teacher unions. Quick question, Mr. Shuford: Who elected the politicians? And who has the power to vote them out of office if they are as dissatisfied as you are? Could it be that you are the one feeling powerless because the majority of America understands the importance of public education, believes in their local school, and is willing to support the continuing improvement of a system that has put our country into an enviable position amongst our peers?

People like Shuford do great harm to our communities.  Rather than serving as critical friends seeking to drive positive change, they introduce almost insurmountable negativity to conversations about teaching and learning in America.  As a result, educators everywhere are forced into proverbial upper rooms, hiding from screaming mobs spitting venom, almost ashamed of the work they do each day and yet consistently working towards improvement.

When will we take a stand against this kind of reprehensible bias in conversations about education?

Class Size Pushback....

A reader named Mike left the following comment on my Problem with Class Size Reductions post yesterday: 

One teacher, 18 students. One teacher, 36 students. If you really believe that the teacher with 36 students will be able to accomplish nearly as much or devote nearly as much individual attention to their students as the teacher with 18 students, you should expect to have your lucidity questioned, and regularly.

Mike....Like so many readers, I think you've missed the central point of my argument.  If you reread my piece, you'll find that we agree completely on the importance of class size reductions and the impact that fewer students can have on quality instruction.  In fact, some of my words literally mirror yours.  Here's what I wrote:

Like a lot of other instincts, our drive for smaller class sizes is based in our desire to succeed. We know that smaller class sizes mean more individual feedback for students. We know that smaller class sizes mean more differentiation—remediation for some and enrichment for others. We know that smaller class sizes mean deeply trusting relationships with children, and that quality relationships quite simply matter. We know that what we invest in our students is directly proportional to what they will achieve.

The problem is that when large scale class size reductions are put into place, teaching quality across systems and states plummets because districts have to revert to hiring anyone who walks through the door to staff their classrooms.  Consider these thoughts from Bruinchiq, another reader:

In California, class-size reduction brought in an era of horribly unprepared educators that we are still recovering from today. Sure, teachers got some relief from an overcrowded classroom, but 20 students were now being taught by anyone who wanted to walk through the door (well, anyone that possessed a B.A.). Most teachers are not exposed to the statistical studies that show the non-impact of small class size reduction, and they are not willing to see the extreme trade-offs of the situation due to the high cost associated with smaller classrooms.

While an accomplished teacher in a room with 18 students will definitely be able to take kids to places they've never gone, how many accomplished teachers will we have to go around when we need to hire thousands and thousands more from a supply pool that is---quite honestly---always empty?

The central premise in my argument is that until we can ensure that all of the teachers that we hire are at least minimally prepared, class size reductions will do more harm to students than good.  While the 18 kids in your classroom are likely to get excellent service, the same argument could not be made for the 18 kids stuck in the room down the hall with an unprepared teacher new to the profession who is drowning under discipline, who doesn't know how to structure learning, and who may have an understanding of content but not kids----or the thousands of kids sitting in classrooms just like them.

More importantly, the children who suffer the most from these decisions are the kids in high needs schools who often end up with a higher percentage of under prepared teachers than kids in suburban communities....which only exacerbates the gap between students of wealth and students of poverty that already exists in our country.  Is that a logical decision for states to make in the interest of "improving the quality of education?"

Pushback?

Bill

Put Me in Coach?

A digital friend of mine named John Holland--who teaches preschool in Virginia and writes a terrific blog subtitled "Leading from the Start"--sparked my thinking the other day, comparing teaching to athletics:

"Is teaching the little leagues? Where you take every player you get and build on their strengths or is it the big leagues where all of the players that are just average have given up or been cut and only those who are truly the best in their position stay. 

Up until now teaching has been a little league. That is why baseball  players make more money ;)(wink)"

My first reaction to John's thoughts was that the teaching profession definitely resembles "the little leagues." Heck, we're the veritable Bad News Bears of the educated work world--lovable little tykes with a "Can Do" attitude even while losing 15 straight games. 

There's always a Kelly or two on our teams—ready to use their incredible skills to carry our teams to the championship games—but they're surrounded by guys like Timmy Lupus and Engelberg who mean well but can't play worth a lick. More than a few schools are led by Morris Buttermakers—washed up fellas with a trick or two left in the bag, but not enough to really inspire a group of misfits.

How did we get in this pickle? 

It sure doesn't help that entry into our profession is protected like home plate in a 12-0 ballgame.  Literally anyone can teach in our country—and those who don't are convinced that they can. What's more, schools have an "Everyone's a Winner" attitude where we wrap incompetence in smiles and cotton candy.  Once someone makes the team, there is little competition or criticism no matter how many errors he/she may make. 

That's one of the things that brings great scorn to our work. Critics of education like Jay Greene and the John Locke Foundation use this lack of differentiation between the "best" and the "rest" to regularly question our status as a profession. Tired of seeing a bunch of Average Joes lose to the Girl Scouts, they're looking for Purple Cobras, feathered and lethal with a killer instinct and determination to match. 

I guess a part of me doubts that we'll ever have a deep enough candidate pool to make fine-grade choices about who "makes the cut" in our classrooms.  Education struggles to attract huge numbers at our "tryouts" because we're just not the best game in town. Poor working conditions, low status, low salaries and demanding days that rival work done in any profession only serve to drive prospective teachers away—and make it less likely that we'll ever be able to step up to "the big leagues."

I guess I also wonder if we are really interested in the big leagues? Is accepting the responsibility that comes along with increased accountability and ownership over our profession something that we're ready for? Are we willing to invest the kind of mental and physical energy that it takes to succeed at the top notches of any profession?   

Or are we happy just sitting on the bench?

The Problem with Class Size Reductions...

One of my favorite pieces of my own writing was a selection on the problem with class size reductions that I recently wrote for the Teacher Magazine website. I opened with:

If you ever want to start a near brawl in the teacher workroom nearest you, walk in and casually drop the following line: There is no question that single-minded efforts to reduce class sizes are flawed and are limiting how successful schools can be.

And needless to say the piece started a digital brawl! It received over 3,500 page views--ranking as the most viewed piece on the TM site for days--and elicited dozens of comments from educators who seem to think that I've completely lost my mind! Consider the following examples:

The teacher/student relationship cannot be of any reasonable nature with more the 20 or so students per class. To say otherwise is just plain foolish.

As far as I'm concerned, anyone who thinks that smaller class sizes would not benefit the disadvantaged child has either never taught in a setting like that or has got a screw loose. Take your pick!

To say that class size reduction must be accompanied by other reforms like hiring and retaining qualified teachers, etc. is a fairly obvious and somewhat boneheaded statement. Mr. Ferriter seems to be characterizing the move as a bad decision that will only further worsen educational quality. It sounds like he wrote this article merely to create discussion about himself–and, oh look!–he has.

Why are you trying to make this a black and white issue in this manner? If you want to discuss the money behind this, compare a small class to a large class; if you want to compare the relationship and achievement of students, compare both. But don't pretend that one side has all the logic. What a poorly presented idea.

And my personal favorite:

What a silly article this is. The tag seems to be about a pedagogical debate, then it quickly devolves into something completely different. It's like a bait-and -switch advertising scheme, and it made me disappointed that I even read it because I thought I was going to see some thoughtful commentary on class size. Instead, I got politics. Reminds me of the morale-deflating bean-counter discussions that happen at my school. Pedagogy comes in second, as usual. Oh well.

What have I learned after strapping a bulls-eye to my chest and daring to argue that class size reductions may be poorly planned decisions (read: quick and popular) that can harm students and create new challenges for education? 

That many teachers struggle to think beyond their own classrooms. This commitment to our own situations is good for the students in our care, but limits our ability to have influence on education at a broader level. Our belief that "our reality is right" serves as a barrier, limiting our understanding of district, state and national policy decisions.

So what do you think? Does the hard-won, intimate knowledge that teachers possess about their own classrooms easily translate to understandings that can inform and educate policymakers? Or do our experiences prevent us from seeing beyond what it is that we understand as individuals?

How about this provocative thought: Is the perspective possessed by those who are removed from the classroom essential for making effective decisions for systems serving thousands of children?  Does leaving the classroom allow one to finally see—as my least favorite principal of all time used to say—"the bigger picture?" 

If so, how can we gain perspective and stay in the classroom at the same time?