The Tempered Radical

Drinking the Kool-Aid: Part Deux

It's been a busy few days here on the Radical:  My page views have nearly tripled since posting recently on why professional learning communities are a staff development initiative worth supporting!  Jazzed that my work resonated--and hoping for another week of ridiculous page views--I figured the time was right to tackle the kinds of specific actions necessary for sustaining momentum in learning communities. 

After all, sustaining momentum has essentially been my school's greatest struggle over the past four years.  Despite embracing the driving philosophy of learning communities from day one, most of my colleagues have thought about giving up more than once during our time together.

Why? 

Because no one ever mentions how incredibly hard the work of professional learning teams really is.    Fighting nearly a century of well-established traditions is no easy task! 

Think about this:  Teachers have never had to work closely with anyone before.  We've never had to use data to inform decision-making, never had to ensure that every child succeeds, and never had to create systems to remediate or enrich students at either end of the performance spectrum in our classes.  While these kinds of behaviors may have played a small role in the lives of some classroom teachers, never have systematic expectations been put in place to make team-based reflection a key element of the way things are done in schools---and yet all of those behaviors are core tenets of highly functioning learning communities. 

School leaders join teachers in this constant fight against the almost crushing weight of history.  Once they've embraced learning communities as a tool for driving change, principals are forced to empower teachers to make key decisions.  To be successful, they must rethink "professional development," release control over hiring decisions, reallocate resources to support remediation and enrichment efforts, and refocus their leadership from supervising individuals to supporting collaborative teams.   

Facing such a long list of new responsibilities, it's no wonder that the excitement surrounding professional learning communities fizzles quickly!

Battling fatigue requires three actions on the part of all members of a learning community:

1.  Celebrating Every Success:  While it may seem terribly trite, celebration is essential to keeping a new professional learning community motivated.  There are times when doubt creeps into the minds of even the highest functioning teams.  Change requires incredible effort and yet results can be slow to develop.  If a team doesn't feel successful or have any reason to celebrate, it is significantly harder to sustain momentum.

Find every reason to praise the work of your teachers and teammates.  If you've got a team that has finally worked out a successful structure for meetings, praise them.  If you've got a team that has learned to work with data and is making their efforts public to the entire staff, praise them.  If you've got a team that has developed a common assessment, praise them. 

No effort is too small to celebrate---and praise should come from every level of your organization.  Principals, teachers, district level leaders, and PTAs interested in seeing professional learning communities succeed should make it their personal responsibility to recognize the efforts being invested by all members of a faculty all the time.  Informal conversations and notes in mailboxes go a long way towards encouraging teams to continue even when times are tough.

2.  Refusing to let Perfection stand in the way of Innovation:  By definition, most teachers are incredibly committed to their work.  We understand that our decisions often determine the success or failure of children---and that pressure weighs heavily on our minds.  As a result, learning teams working together for the first time are often paralyzed by a fear of "doing something wrong."   

This fear often leads to inaction.  Struggling teams can spend months developing complex plans or developing sophisticated common assessments, getting bogged down by details.  Schools can spend years talking about systemic change without ever taking first steps.  This desire to be perfect before moving forward results in stagnation. 

Convince your colleagues that innovation is the key.  Taking first steps is essential for any school change effort.  Be willing to move forward with new ideas that haven't been fully tested---and be comfortable with the reality that new ideas may need polishing after implementation.  The excitement generated by change is only possible when a school is constantly innovating.  Promoting creative thinking over perfection trains teachers and teams to be action-oriented---and an action orientation defines the most successful learning communities.   

3.  Embracing Non-Traditional Thinking:  The kinds of people drawn to education are typically driven by traditions.  They place high value on--and take great pride in---"the way we do things."  To rethink is to question previous efforts---and to question previous efforts is to doubt something that you once valued greatly.

This commitment to tradition can serve as an almost insurmountable barrier to the successful implementation of learning communities.  Teachers are unwilling to rethink instructional planning and delivery because they've grown comfortable with strategies developed over time.  Administrators and educational professionals are unwilling to rethink allocation of resources and responsibilities because they've grown comfortable with roles and routines "perfected" over time.

Effective learning communities, however, are driven by non-traditional thinking.  Teachers regroup students across hallways, matching student interest and abilities with educators best suited to individual learning styles.  Every instructional strategy is questioned and evaluated, supported by evidence and reflection or discarded as ineffective.

But classroom teachers aren't the only members of a school community that must embrace non-traditional thinking.  In highly functioning learning communities, EVERYONE works differently.  Positions that have traditionally remained distant from instructional responsibilities are redefined to address identified strengths and weaknesses in a school's population.

Guidance counselors are more directly involved in supporting struggling students, designing outreach programs designed to target families and coordinating community services that can help to address personal challenges.  Media specialists, academically gifted teachers, instructional coaches and testing coordinators begin to contribute by providing additional time and attention to struggling students, disaggregating data and providing reports to classroom teachers, or developing comprehensive unit plans that can be easily implemented by learning teams across grade levels and content areas.    

Every decision in a building is rethought in most learning communities.  Budgeting decisions change, hiring decisions change, and parent involvement efforts change.  Secretaries work differently, messages are communicated differently, and teaching positions are allocated differently.  Homework is rethought, class periods are rethought, and student feedback is rethought.

Even district level decisions must change to support learning communities!  Superintendents who want to promote collaboration between teachers and empowerment at the school level must model those behaviors at the county office.  While it may seem counterintuitive during an era of increasing control over schools, district level leaders must promote creative thinking and risk-taking in the ranks of their principals.  As Matt Wight--one of my former leadership mentors--used to say, "Successful leaders are comfortable with high degree of ambiguity."   

This all sounds intimidating, doesn't it? 

In many ways, restructuring schools is intimidating!  No one ever said that the work of learning communities was going to be easy.  But momentum can be sustained when successes are celebrated, innovation is promoted and non-traditional thinking is embraced. 

   

 

          

 

   

 

I Finally Drank the Kool-Aid!

Those who know me the best always think it's hilarious when I'm asked to make staff development presentations because I've got a history of resisting even the most well-intentioned reform efforts. 

Heck, the closest that I've ever come to getting fired for insubordination was when I put Kool-Aid and Dixie Cups out on the snack table in a Jonestown-esque reference to the cultish feel of a Stephen Covey presentation that was serving as our formal staff development plan one year.

Not exactly one of my more professional decisions!

But in a lot of ways, I'd grown tired of the way staff development was chosen in our building. Rarely were teachers involved in any of the decision-making, rarely did the selections have any direct impact on teaching and learning in our school, and rarely did the selections stay around long enough to become a part of our school's culture or driving philosophy. 

We were on the Merry-Go-Round of professional learning, and my head was spinning.      

What made the ride even more frustrating was that most of the "programs" we were exposed to were drawn directly from the latest cliche-craze sweeping the business world. We read Who Moved My Cheese, studied the Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, and tried to move from Good to Great.  We had Crucial Conversations and Crucial Confrontations. 

While most of my colleagues recognized that these programs were a huge waste of our time and our building's resources, they were largely unwilling to challenge the status quo. "Nothing's going to change," they would say, "This is how professional development has always been chosen. Just bring a big stack of papers to grade and you'll keep busy." 

But I've never been real good at "just keeping busy." In the context of today's high school reform efforts, I'm driven by relevance---always questioning the decisions that influence what happens in my classroom.  In fact, my peers call me "The Why Guy" because I ask the same three questions over and over again when reflecting on school-wide decisions:

Why This?

Why Now?

Why Bother? (Usually uttered in hushed tones under my breath.  I may be borderline belligerent, but I'm not stupid!)

What gets me in the most trouble is that I don't go away easily! If my school's leadership struggles to answer any of my three whys, I automatically go into attack mode. "If we can't answer these questions legitimately, then we're wasting time," I'll say. "And I ain't got time to waste! Do you know how hard classroom teaching really is?"

Having gained notoriety as a somewhat surly cuss, most everyone was surprised when I emerged as an active proponent of professional learning communities as a form of staff development. In fact, many would consider me to be on the Varsity PLC cheerleading team---a huge digression from my typical pattern of behavior when it comes to PD. 

Why have I finally decided to embrace a staff development initiative? Because PLCs answer my three whys better than any effort I've seen in over 15 years of teaching:

Why This:  PLCs are the right staff development initiative because they inherently value the knowledge and expertise of practitioners---as opposed to the knowledge and expertise of heavily paid outsiders who may or many not have any experience working in schools or with children! In buildings functioning as learning communities, teachers working together are empowered to find solutions to challenges interfering with student growth and development. 

That kind of confidence in the ability of teachers is just plain refreshing in an educational environment where outside experts have become the in-thing!

Why Now:  Education stands at a critical juncture. In an increasingly flattening world, our students are going to have to compete in a global marketplace for gainful employment.  Estimates show that the largest English speaking nation in the world will be China in the next decade---creating a sense of competition that we have never had to wrestle with as a nation until now.

These new realities have introduced fear into nearly every conversation about teaching and learning.  Many members of the general public question the ability of teachers and schools to produce meaningful learning results. Scrutiny and criticism increase exponentially each year, resulting in greater restrictions and controls on the work we do in the classroom. Standardized testing and scripted curricula are direct responses to the lack of confidence that decision-makers have in the ability of educators. 

Isn't it time that we show what a committed group of teaching professionals can do when given the freedom to explore their practice in a meaningful way? 

Why Bother:  The moralistic, high-minded answer to this question would be, "PLCs ensure that every child has access to the best instruction regardless of instructor---and every child deserves our best."

Sounds lovely, doesn't it? 

Sure, but as a practitioner who is already swamped by the day-to-day demands of a profession that can be simply overwhelming, I couldn't give a rip about moralistic, high-minded answers! 

Good thing, then, that there's a more practical reason that educators should embrace learning teams:  Collaboration done right helps to lighten the load for everyone. In the past few years, I've actually seen the time that I invest in planning daily lessons go down as I've taken advantage of learning experiences and materials shared by my colleagues. We've even gotten creative about regrouping students across classrooms during the school day to provide the kinds of remediation experiences that I used to deliver in after school tutoring sessions.

Now don't get me wrong: Learning communities aren't all sunshine and daffodils.  In fact, for the first few years, I even wondered whether collaborative work in schools was possible. Having spent the majority of our careers working in complete isolation, my team struggled to learn the skills necessary to work together effectively and spent a significant amount of time "storming" our way through meetings.

But I've never been more energized or more effective in my entire teaching career either. I approach professional development with an unusual zeal because I know that I'm going to get to explore my practice with my peers. Together, we learn more about instruction that works and we polish the things that we do best.  We have a commitment to one another and to our students that is nothing short of energizing---and that commitment brings us back year after year to work together again. 

I guess I finally drank the Kool-Aid, huh?.

Living a Silent War. . .

Think that life in high needs schools isn't challenging? Then read this email from a first year teacher working in a school of poverty outside of Atlanta that was forwarded to me by a friend last week:

Amber and I volunteered to ride a bus today so that we could tell the parents they had to be at the stop or the children would be taken back to school and charged for after-school care. It was very mind opening to see the neighborhoods these children live in. There were several stops that we decided to get off the bus together because it was so scary.

Unfortunately five kids from my bus  had to be taken back to school because no one was there to pick them up---one who was a student in my class. After arriving back at school we had to wait for the parents to pick up their children and a little tiff broke out with the parent of my child. The parent said their neighbor was at the stop,  but they weren't---in fact, Ashley and I got off the bus, walked in the neighborhood, knocked on their door, and even called the emergency numbers with no answer. This is the same parent who got in a verbal argument on the first day and said it wasn't her responsibility to be at the bus stop....

Three of my students really stand out:

Child one: I found out that the same children (one of which is in my classroom) have been abused in the past and investigations are continuing, so I need to look out for abuse. On top of that, they have no lunch money and because my county is so big, the free and reduced lunch forms cannot be approved fast enough, so children bring lunch from home (which consists of practically nothing---cheese and bread---which the students do not eat).

Child Two: I stayed after and waited with a child until her grandmother came to pick her up from after school (which ended up being 6 pm). The child lives with grandma now because mom is in jail and we have no idea about the father. I have tried to call the grandmother everyday, and have even sent home notes on a daily basis. This girl has already been to the school counselor because she sporadically cries and becomes non-responsive.

After speaking with her kindergarten teacher, I realized that this is completely opposite behavior from last year so I decided to talk with grandma... since I consistently got no response on the phone, I waited... only to find out that grandma lost her job, and the phone, gas, and electric has been cut off. This child also struggles with being fed because grandma is not the legal guardian and thus cannot fill out the paperwork for free/reduced lunch---or so I have been told.

Child Three: This girl lives with dad and step-mom. They are trying to make ends meet, however mom is going to school and dad works full time (late hours, never home). They have three children, one a new-born and again no money. She is very needy and never has papers returned, behavior log signed---I call, and get no answer.

This is just three of my 15 children... all but two live in good home situations. I have children with severe behavior problems (due to the lack of structure at home, and one mother even tells him that when he acts inappropriately, "the devil is in his head"--obviously something you DO NOT tell a first grader!!!)

As I learn more about my students, I become more appreciative of my life, yet more discouraged with the world. This is exactly the type of students I want to work with... they need us more than ever. I am becoming more patient as I learn these shocking truths of my students. I have learned that not everyone has the tooth fairy visit them... so I don't ask when students lose teeth, "How much money did the tooth fairly leave you?" 

The answer is always none...

I have learned that most kids do not go home to mom or dad and get help with homework--they go home to an empty house. It's hard to understand how some of these students survive in the living conditions they were born into. Not that I didn't know it already... but I see how lucky I am to have had the "tooth fairy," "Santa Claus," stuffed animals, clean clothes, food, candy, tv, air conditioning, a clean bed, and parents always around. Sometimes I get home and it's hard for me to get my mind off of my children and whether or not they are safe, being fed, etc.

While there is so much sadness in these children's lives, they are, for the most part, incredibly happy children (at school). We have our times where discipline must be enforced, but these children are so good at keeping their lives a secret... no one would ever guess that these children are living a silent war that begins at 2:15 everyday.

The first two weeks are almost over and I have already learned so much. Each day is a new adventure... We've had bathroom accidents, several teeth have fallen out, crying fits that last for what seems hours... I collapse into bed each and every night. I hope you are having a good week... and even if you are having a bad day... just remember my kids...and how our lives could be worse... it's been a huge reality check for me... but I wouldn't change a thing.

Love,
Maggie

Maggie's words left me speechless---and wondering how long she'll remain in the classroom. Her spirit is positive and she approaches her work with a zeal that defines many of those who work with students of poverty, but will zeal be enough to keep her going day after day in the face of almost insurmountable challenges?

Her words also paint a clear picture of why schools serving high needs communities are often staffed by under-prepared educators. Long hours, constant criticism and heart-wrenching circumstances drive all but the most self-sacrificing educators to schools serving less demanding populations. 

When will we realize that equal funding, staffing and compensation for teachers in high needs schools is insufficient to ensure success for every child?  When will we begin to advocate instead for equitable funding, extra positions and additional salary supplements for those willing to work in difficult circumstances? 

Carnival of Education Posted

The Carnies have struck a new camp this week.  If you're interested in kicking back on the Tilt a-Whirl and reading a bit about the edu-sphere, head on over to History is Elementary for this week's edition of the Carnival of Education. 

I'm looking for some cotton candy and a post on education policy as we speak!

Sick of the Rim-Sitters. . .

In response to my post on who is responsible for student learning, Miller wrote:

I go to the doctor and she tells me to take a medication to get better. I don't follow her instructions and get worse. Should I sue her? Is it her fault? Has she committed malpractice? According to YOU she did.

I've actually got lots of problems with the doctor/teacher analogy, Miller. While it may seem like a logical comparison because doctors suggest plans of action to patients who can choose to follow directions or ignore advice, that's where the similarities stop. 

Perhaps most importantly, you're suggesting that students have the same ability to make reasoned decisions as adults. Rick Wormeli---author, educational consultant and fellow TLNer---shaped my thinking on this issue a few months back in a conversation we were having about holding students accountable for meeting deadlines for assignments.  Here's some of what he said: 

"We are not teaching adults, we're teaching youth. The morphing humans we teach do not have adult-level competencies yet. To expect them to have their entire lives so together as to make everything work out in a timely manner is inappropriate. Students are messy as they grow, often taking 3 steps forward for every two steps backward.

The examples given for adults meeting deadlines such as working 12 or more hours in a day to meet a contract deadline, etc., are possible because these workers are adults. They have control over their lives, they know their bodies, they can re-arrange other things in their lives, and they can set aside some recovery time after the task is completed.

Our students have none of these options. They really can't re-arrange everything else in their lives, they can't stay until 10:00 at night at their school to work on things, skip out on taking care of their younger siblings if the parents are working evenings, or argue with the football coach to skip the state championship because they need to finish their essay on how cuneiform writing dramatically impacted the Fertile Crescent.

Students' physiology is changing which makes it hard for students to "read" their bodies. They can't go without sleep, and take time afterwards to recover from the long days. They are so egocentric in the now of the moment that they can rarely task analyze so well as to plan appropriately for how long something will take to complete, especially if there are many somethings...

Our students are imperfect beings, constantly mixing priorities, dealing with temptations, and often making the wrong decisions...Our commission is to teach so that students learn, not just present curriculum and blindly hold students accountable for it.

The idea that each of our students learns at the same pace as everyone else goes against all we know about human psychology and the way the mind learns....We do a lot more for students by extending to them a compassionate ladder with which to climb from the hole they've dug themselves than we do by yelling at them from the hole's rim, "Just sit down there and try to become a better person while the rest of the world passes you by."

I guess I just can't understand the rim-sitters in our schools. Do they doubt their own ability to educate?  Are they too lazy to change? What satisfaction do they take in seeing any student---no matter how belligerent or irresponsible---fail? Is additional training necessary to help them fill in ability gaps that have lingered for years?

And I'm completely frustrated by our inability to hold rim-sitters accountable for their actions. Instead, we just turn our backs and pretend like we don't know what's going on in their rooms. We're willing to fight when our own children get assigned to their classrooms but we do nothing to protect other people's kids from the consequences of unprofessional practice. 

If this were medicine, rim-sitters would be called before a review board and lose their license. 

In education, they get a salary-step increase for experience. 

Does that bother anyone besides me?

Instruction That Results in Student Learning

About a week ago, Mike asked a really provocative question that sparked thinking here on the Radical when he wrote:

What responsibility, specifically, do you believe an individual student, and by extension, their parents, have for that student's learning outcomes? We agree that teachers bear a substantial burden here, but what's the burden of the consumer of learning? What's the burden of their parents?

He then followed his comments up with another intriguing comment explaining his viewpoint that included these thoughts:

Think I'm exaggerating? Impose two laws: (1) Teacher's whose classes do not score at least 75% on mandatory tests may be fired. (2) Parents whose children fail three or more classes in a given year may be fined. Which would have the greatest chance of staying on the books? Which would be embraced by politicians?

What remains essentially unaddressed, here and elsewhere, is the demand that parents act like parents, and that students do their part to learn. Learning, after all cannot be downloaded, but achieved only through consistent, dedicated effort and practice. Teachers can provide that opportunity and guidance, they cannot do the learning for the students, nor can they act as the student's parent.

Mike's on to what I believe is a central question for all professional educators: Who is responsible for the student learning that happens in our classrooms each day?

And that is a question that has plagued teachers for years. "It's the parents that are responsible," many will answer, "After all, we only have students for six hours a day. What happens beyond the walls of our classroom is just as important as what happens inside our rooms. If we're sent students who are poorly prepared to learn, what kind of results can we really take responsibility for?"

Others will argue that students are responsible. "If a child comes into my room and does nothing for months on end, how can I be held responsible for results? I'm presenting lessons that are producing results in the students who are paying attention and completing their homework. The only kids who are struggling are those who aren't doing what I tell them to do. How can that be my fault?"

I've even heard teachers blame the broader community. "Look at the resources that I'm provided to work with," they'll argue, "Until I'm given the materials that I need to do my job well, I can't be held accountable for anything. I'm working with antiquated computers, textbooks that are out of date and a library that has nothing interesting for the students to borrow. When those things are fixed, you'll get the results that you want."

Few would argue that each of these factors plays a considerable role in the success or failure of students in our classrooms. In fact, disparities in these categories often explain the achievement gap between students of wealth and students of poverty. Families in high needs communities rarely have the time and financial resources to invest in their children that are a given in middle and upper class families. As a result, children living in poverty face barriers to school success from day one that children of the middle class—the demographic most often drawn to teaching as a career—may never understand.

As a society that claims to be interested in leaving no child behind, significant efforts should be directed at closing the socioeconomic gaps that exist between the rich and the poor in our country. Until we drive meaningful changes in high-needs communities—providing universal health care, child care, and preschool for every child—we'll never be able to guarantee success for the millions of children who enter our schools at risk for academic failure.

But I am openly embarrassed by educators who fail to take responsibility for student learning in their classrooms. When a child is struggling—regardless of the reason—our response should be to change our course and seek out instructional practices that work. In every school, the collective wisdom exists to find solutions to every problem that individual children are facing. In simpler terms, someone in every building knows how to produce results with students—and each of us bears a responsibility for seeking those people out and amplifying their effective practices.

To do otherwise is malpractice—and malpractice happens at an alarming rate in our schools today. Teachers—knowing that their instructional practices aren't working—make no significant changes to their work regardless of results. Instead, they continue to teach the same material in the same way to students with significantly different needs. "My job is to teach," they'll say. "It's the student's job to learn."

That's bunk.

Our job is to devise instructional experiences that result in student learning. If we claim to be professionals, we must build these instructional experiences on a strong understanding of the strengths and weaknesses of our student population and an awareness of practices being used successfully with similar student populations in our school, district or state. We must document the results of our instruction and make informed decisions about "next steps" based on this documentation.

Those are the actions that I hold teachers accountable for—and those actions are painfully non-existent in many of our nation's classrooms because of shameful unwillingness on the part of educators to be held responsible for their work.