Brainstorming about STEM

In our daily discussion group, a Teacher Leaders Network member wrote:

I have been asked to represent the voice of the teacher leader on an international panel next week. We’ll be considering steps that might be taken to strengthen the pipeline from our classrooms to careers in Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics (STEM) occupations.

I would like to bring your thoughts with me. Why do you think more students don't choose STEM pathways in high school and college? What are the systemic issues you see that keep students from moving into STEM courses and careers? What suggestions would you have for improving this?

Shannon, a Milken award winning chemistry teacher in the Midwest, responded:

I have done countless interviews with students trying to figure this out so that we might change our high school courses to make students persist through the first few years of college-level math and science.

There is a consistent thread that indicates a huge mismatch in the level of rigor and the level of homework expected at high school and that expected at college. Students who take the top math and science courses at their high school enter college intending to pursue STEM majors. They find the going rough, decide they were ill prepared by their high school courses, and change their majors.

Successful high school students learn the material for the test but have difficulty transferring the information later, when it is connected at the next levels of learning. Reason? Their high school courses  are way too bloated with content (good for the test), and they do not spend sufficient time on big ideas and the connections between and among these ideas (bad for persistence in college).

Across the board, the students said that in high school they did little homework and seldom read the text -- since the teacher could usually be talked into covering that material in discussions and lectures. In college, the straightforward expectation that students will study without coaxing -- and the large amount of daily homework -- was a huge barrier for many students. And this barrier crops up early, in their first first college math and science classes. Many new college students need a course that conditions them to higher expectations and builds confidence. Instead, these early courses often weed them out -- especially when students compare the level of cognitive work required in math/science with the workload in the social sciences, where most learning occurs socially through discussions, current events, and application.

Also, if the students go to a college where the first two years are mostly theory and not much application, they often lose interest. They cannot see a clear path from where they are to the career they have imagined or desired.

Retired from the military, Mark is now a second-career science teacher on the East Coast. He replied:

This could be a great subject for a doctoral dissertation. The issue is very much a concern in the military and NASA. I’ve spent the past two summers working with a group that is trying to address this very question. From what I have seen it really comes down to the way public education is structured versus the way STEM knowledge and skills are actually used by scientists and engineers.

STEM occupations require an interdisciplinary approach to problems. In high school, we have "the Math Department" and "the Science Department." What we really need is "the Engineering and Research Department," where we would teach math and science as part of an integrated, application-oriented subject. Instead we have math and science courses where the topics are presented for the most part as established, immutable facts. Tests have one correct answer. Each course is taught as a stand-alone topic with little or no relation to other topics. With the standardized testing push, the emphasis on getting the single correct answer has become even greater.

I think the solution to the problem lies in the direction that Massachusetts has taken. They have developed standards for technology and engineering across the K-12 curriculum. These standards are separate from the Technical and Career Education strand (which, in many schools, is where most anything called engineering seems to end up -- also a part of the problem).

Until there are K-12 standards for technology and engineering there won't be any kind of push to make the curriculum changes necessary to allow for truly integrated, cross-disciplinary courses that would generate student interest in STEM fields.

Anthony, a secondary science coach on the West Coast, wrote:

Could it be that the demand for people with science and engineering degrees is far less than the media and industry leaders proclaim? There is a robust debate going on within the scientific community centering on this issue. I think it would be interesting to explore this debate a bit. One problem is that research money has declined over the last decade, as government money has flowed towards war and away from research.

I am a science educator, so I tend to be inclined towards those who would encourage young people to pursue this field. But then I hear stories of the many graduates who are having trouble finding work in their fields, and the intense competition for grants, and I wonder if we are doing the students a favor by directing them to these fields. By the same token, I sometimes wonder if four-year college degrees have been oversold, or at least the notion that everyone must have such a degree in order to survive in the modern economy.

In a column in Business Week last fall, titled The Science Education Myth, Harvard and Duke University scholar (and tech entrepreneur) Vivek Wadhwa suggested there is actually an oversupply of engineers for the jobs available. Citing a 2007 report from the Urban Institute, he said the available data “disproves many confident pronouncements about the alleged weaknesses and failures of the U.S. education system.”

Others disagree, of course. Here’s an account of views expressed at a Graduate STEM Education Roundtable sponsored by the President’s Office of Science and Technology Policy. And Education Week devoted its 2008 Technology Counts report to STEM-related stories.

Amy, a winner of state and national middle grades science teaching awards, wrote:

Here are a couple of thoughts based on my time in the classroom and as an Einstein Fellow on Capitol Hill. The time spent teaching science in elementary school and some middle schools has been greatly reduced since 2001, as an unintended consequence of NCLB. Since state testing in science (as with social studies and many other subjects) did not count towards schools’ all important Adequate Yearly Progress rating, classes were cut as reading and math took up more of the school day.

Students are now reaching high school without a rich science background or have lost their natural interest in scientific inquiry as other interests develop. Without these building blocks, science may be difficult and high schools may be playing catch-up on the basics. Students go off to college without the skills they need to be successful in the hard sciences.

Common feedback that I heard while in DC is that many college students find science/math to be “too hard.” Many also do not know the job potentials that are possible with STEM majors. So they choose majors they find to be easier.

My opinion is if we expect to build the STEM pipeline, science and math need to be taught well in elementary and middle school, when students are still excited about learning new things. High school is too late to try and get students hooked. Students need to know before they enter high school that they should take all of the math, science and engineering courses they can in order to build background knowledge that will serve them well in whatever they finally decide to major in.

Susie, a veteran teacher in the Midwest, has a long memory:

It's not just NCLB that has diminished science teaching in elementary; it's been woeful for years. As a middle school science teacher for 23 years pre-NCLB, I found that many elementary teachers felt ill-prepared to teach it (many of them having had little more than one methods class), had trouble obtaining materials due to time or money constraints, or felt other priorities were more pressing. Science is a tested subject in our state (grades 5 & 7), so it actually receives more emphasis now.

Beginning in 2007-2008, all states are now required by NCLB to test students in science, but states are not required to include science assessments as part of the formula for determining AYP. Anthony commented:

As a science teacher, I am not comforted by the fact that science will be tested more under NCLB. While that may lead to a bit more emphasis on science subject matter, I do not think it will improve real understanding in science. That is because I feel the most profound understanding of science comes when one understands the mental framework science gives us.

Science is like history in this regard. Real history is not merely the fact that Abraham Lincoln was the 16th president of the United States. Real history is the ability to review original documents and sources of information and extract understandings of the past. A real historian is able to analyze the past, to interrogate source material and figure out what different forces were at play. Real science is similar. We are working with evidence, and sometimes conducting experiments to create new evidence, to answer questions we have about the natural world.

Of course a big part of science is understanding what others have discovered before us. But the vitality of science is in the exploration of the new, of our ability to pose new questions that lead to new discoveries. This rich kind of science learning is very hard to fit in the tiny bubbles on a multiple choice test. It is certainly an indictment of NCLB that by “counting” only math and language arts test results, it has ignored science and history (and other important subjects). However, I believe that the way knowledge and skills are measured is equally important, and thus I do not believe science educators should be celebrating the inclusion of science in these high-stakes tests.

Rick, an English and science teacher, replied:

But as you say, Anthony, it’s a start. It puts science on the radar scope. To never be a part of the conversation means to never start. Once in the testing arena, we can construct science assessments that truly assess those wonderful science skills and frameworks you promote.

You are right on with everything you say science is, but most other disciplines claim the same concerns about their subjects and tests. For example, does reciting parts of speech or verb conjugations help you write better? I believe they do not. Stephen King, William Zinsser, and many others who write about writing agree. Yet those are some of the indicators we use to decide if students are proficient in writing.

Unfortunately, testing formats usually result from what policymakers think is legally defensible and financially feasible to test, as well as some reference to what they remember testing was like when they were in school. I celebrate the addition of science to the testing world, but I agree with you that the most important aspects of science cannot be adequately assessed given our current testing formats. It just means we should step boldly forward and try to convince policy-makers to assess science correctly.

Marsha, a math and science teacher in a suburban middle school, closed out the conversation with her take on the STEM careers issue.

I find that STEM courses require a sense of maturity. I see this when I do the robotics unit with my 6th graders. They are thrilled that we are going to do robots, but the "fun" wears off a bit when I tell them that we'll be studying how changing gear ratios changes speed and/or distance. They thought they were going to play with the Legos (and we do have one day for “free exploration”--code word for play). But it's hard work building a robot, seeing the results of what you’ve built, thinking about how to fix it so it runs better, and then redesigning and rebuilding.

With the exception of the writing process, when I think about most of the work we do with students, I don't see tons of the “think, design, build, revise, retest, rebuild” cycle going on.

Yet STEM is all about that.

So from my vantage point, even high school may be early for students to always see the "fun" in that iterative process of learning. They may just want coursework that you can memorize, take the test, and be done with. STEM courses require more of a sense of perseverance than many kids have at that age.

It also seems to me that once they're a bit older, they begin to look beyond immediate gratification and to things that will sustain intellectual interest. I think that's why you'll see people become interested in engineering or the like when they enter college, but not at the high school level. I know that it wasn't until my own children had some substantive, hands-on lab experiences that they began to think about “stuff” rather than grades.

At least at the high schools around here, the push to take AP courses is huge. I wonder how many high schools are willing to really push the STEM courses (where you are much more likely to experience applied science) over AP biology, chemistry or physics? The culture sort of dictates otherwise.

My son had this experience with physics. Kids had to be able to weigh the advantages of taking a Tech Physics course, which lasted two years and included lots of hands-on learning at nearby engineering companies, against the wisdom of taking AP Physics. If students chose the Tech Physics course, they were sometimes teased that it was “Physics for Dummies” because they weren't getting the AP or honors credit. Yet most of the kids who choose the applied program end up with engineering aspirations in college. Some of my son's friends are even pursuing physics majors with engineering minors because the Tech Physics class gave them that conceptual AND real world knowledge.

Lastly, I wonder how much our counselors really know about STEM courses. At least where I teach, their expertise really lies in the typical college prep pathway. They don't talk about options much. Unless a college-bound kid really presses them or already knows about options, that kid is very likely to be led into honors and AP without much discussion. In my district the FACS, CAD and broadcast courses are amazing. Often they are overlooked because they fall far outside the normal college-prep thinking – and parents don't even know about them until it's too late to get into the sequence.

Counselors have a tough job, and I don't mean to imply that they channel kids away. But if you don't talk about the possibilities because either you don't have the information, the time, or the ability to meet with kids one-on-one, then students will follow the path of least resistance.

Actually, in my district, many of our high school STEM teachers have taken to "advertising" their courses near the time of registration. Not true advertising, of course, but they do put out information brochures and/or posters that inform kids about the STEM courses and where they can lead in terms of college and careers. It has helped spread the word, and I think more kids are finding out and enrolling.

A Sinuous Approach to Fly-By Evaluation

During some serious discussion about the cursory nature of much teacher observation and evaluation, a TLN member lightened the mood with this story:

I remember one particular experience where for some bewildering reason, the assistant principal decided to make it her mission to evaluate me herself and to find fault with me and my teaching. (This happened shortly after I was named my state’s teacher of the year.)

Fortunately, I had a simple and foolproof solution for this problem, given the AP’s known phobias. My solution was known affectionately by my students as George. She (we discovered her gender after the naming activity!) was a 5 1/2 foot speckled king snake -- the kind that looks all slithery and evil, but is really quite sweet and cooperative.

You can probably guess the rest. When I knew evaluations were in the air, I took George out of her cage, to the delight of the students, and draped her gracefully around my neck. With an occasional tug to make sure she didn't take her position too seriously (king snakes are constrictors), this worked quite well to keep my students’ attention totally focused on me, and to keep the assistant principal out of my room.

From that point on, the principal always did my evaluations (eyes rolling when he saw George, matched by a knowing grin). And he was always fair. I should add that we gave George regular work breaks, draping her over the crossbar of my lab station from time to time.

George deserved her own evaluation. She could really take charge of a classroom.

Pondering Professionalization

After crunching some numbers from the Bureau of Labor Statistics, blogger Matt Johnston determined that roughly 2.2 percent of America’s workers are teachers. So he wonders, how come teachers keep complaining that they’re not respected as professionals?

The teachers themselves have the power to change the perception of their occupation, from one where they don't get the respect they demand and perhaps deserve, to one on par with the respect paid to doctors, lawyers, accountants, engineers etc.

When someone in the TLN daily discussion group shared Matt’s blog link, the replies weren’t long in coming, both on our email listserv and at Matt’s blog. Here’s some of the listserv dialogue:

TB wrote:

OK, I was up for the challenge of answering Matt's questions this morning. Then I began to contemplate the differences between teachers and the other professionals he lists so I could try to figure out WHY teachers don't get the respect we deserve. The difference is the organization of schools and education.

Think back to when teachers taught in stand alone schools — you know, all grades in one room, no principal, no mandated textbooks. Just teach kids the basics and how to survive. Weren't teachers given respect then? My great-grandmother certainly got some.

Now there is a hierarchy of administration and people outside of classrooms (some of whom have never been a teacher) making decisions that impact every minute of a teacher's (and her student's) day, what is taught, when and how. I am sitting here listening to an NPR segment on mandated state testing and NCLB. Who are the people behind NCLB and all this mandated testing? Others.

Do engineers, doctors, or lawyers work under the same massive mandates? The difficulty in demanding the respect that we deserve is that teachers work for others, and "others" control what we do. Yes, we can make a huge difference in our individual classrooms and even in our schools. And I bet the majority of us would say we are highly respected in our schools.

So some of these "others" out there say teachers need to close the achievement gap. Are there "others" out there mandating doctors to close a mortality gap? Or lawyers to close some gap between the legal rights of the poor and the well to do?

I really want teachers to get the respect we deserve but where do we start?

Anthony replied:

After reading the post by Matt, and TB's response, I am drawn back to our recent conversation about civil disobedience. We discussed why it might be justified, and how it could be made effective, and some folks seemed to be open to the fact that collective action might be needed. The core issue is the systematic disempowerment of teachers.

Matt seems to base his argument on numbers. He suggests that since 2.2 percent of working Americans are teachers, and we have powerful unions, we ought to be able to change the profession ourselves. For me, I think there are historical reasons, relating to culture, economics and gender, that help explain why the profession has been shaped the way it is. It is useful to look at those reasons, and see what we can do to change them, but I am not sure it helps to point a finger of blame at the whole profession. We all wind up in our roles, and it is tough sometimes to break out of them and take a new path.

Along those lines, I would break the question he poses into two parts.

Question One: What are the historical conditions that have shaped (and limited the power of) the teaching profession up to this point?

Question Two: How can we challenge and change this dynamic so that teachers take more power in our classrooms and in the profession?

The answer to the first question is really important. We are often compared to lawyers and doctors, but our professions developed under very different circumstances. As the US became industrialized, our schools shifted from an agrarian model with one or a few mostly male teachers, to a factory model with classrooms staffed by mostly female teachers, governed by a male principal, overseen by male school boards. Power in the schools has historically been invested in a patriarchal structure, where the principal is expected to supervise and set the curriculum, and teachers are expected to follow those directions.

Beyond the school, the professional knowledge and research base of the profession has resided in Schools of Education, which not only prepare teachers but also have an interest in maintaining their own status as the experts on how children should be taught. And beyond the schools of education lie the real forces that shape educational policy, political leaders who see tinkering with education as their opportunity to show they are doing something about the problems of society.

Schools have been seen for a long time as a place where the ills of society are remedied. When waves of immigrants arrived from Europe a century ago, the schools were expected to socialize them into a common "American" culture. Back in 1900, only half the children even attended school, and the average number of years attended was five.

I did a little research online and found a copy of a 1922 teacher's contract for $75 a month:

Miss ---------- agrees:

1. Not to get married. This contract becomes null and void immediately if the teacher marries.

2. Not to have company with men.

3. To be at home between the hours of 8:00 p.m. and 6:00 a.m. unless in attendance at a school function.

4 Not to loiter downtown in ice cream stores.

5. Not to leave town at any time without the permission of the Chairman of the Trustees.

6. Not to smoke cigarettes. This contract becomes null and void immediately if the teacher is found smoking.

7. Not to drink beer, wine or whiskey: This contract becomes null and void immediately if the teacher is found drinking beer, wine, or whiskey.

8. Not to ride in a carriage or automobile with any man except her brother or father.

9. Not to dress in bright colors.

10. Not to dye her hair.

11. To wear at least two petticoats.

12. Not to wear dresses more than two inches above the ankles.

13. To keep the schoolroom clean: (a) to sweep the classroom floor at least once daily. (b) to scrub the classroom floor at least once weekly with soap and hot water. (c) to clean the blackboard at least once daily. (d) to start the fire at 7:00 a.m., so that the room will be warm at 8:00 a.m. when the children arrive.

14. Not to wear face powder, mascara, or to paint the lips.

(Photo: teachers circa 1930)

So I think we have to be careful to consider the roots of our profession when we start saying "teachers are to blame" for our own disempowerment. As I said, I do not think blame is a good place from which to develop motivation for change, though some of us are familiar with that device from our family relationships! I think we need to understand, with compassion, how these patterns developed, and then we can begin to challenge them.

Which brings us to question two: how can we challenge and change this dynamic so that teachers take more power in our classrooms and in the profession?

This is really a question about how you bring about social change. Once again, it is good to look at history and see how things have changed in the past. Matt is pointing out the large number of teachers in America, which suggests there is a latent power there. But social change takes much more than sheer numbers, and even having teachers organized into unions is not enough. Jim Crow lasted for almost a century in spite of the millions of people it oppressed.

In order for us to accomplish this shift there needs to be a clear sense of direction, widely shared. We need a moral imperative that gives us clarity of purpose. We need to be clear that we are in a fluid situation, where there are different political forces at work, each with their own sets of ideas contending for dominance. Actually, this is a very interesting moment, and we see things even more fluid than usual. No Child Left Behind was the policy vehicle of a number of career policymakers, and as it is reaching the end of its credibility, we see many of these former champions leaping aside to become critics, so as to position themselves to continue to offer sage advice.

So there is a bit of a vacuum, a time when teacher leaders have the opportunity to put forward another model of school improvement, one which recognizes teacher leadership as the most powerful source of change in schools. But we have to go farther than that. We have to answer the questions answered so badly by NCLB and the high-stakes testing regime. To whom are our schools accountable? How is learning measured? How is that measurement shared with the community? How is teaching expertise developed? What is the role of the teacher in making educational decisions? How do we build sustainable communities of powerful educators in ALL of our schools?

This definition of our direction is really just the first step in the social change process. We will then need to take that vision and share it widely, and organize around it broadly, including parents and community leaders. We will need to ally with other people making parallel realizations in their walks of life, because this is all part of a larger social dynamic, and our disempowerment is one piece of a much larger pattern. And we will need to begin taking actions, because if Rosa Parks' arrest had been the end of the story, the Montgomery bus boycott would not have happened, and Jim Crow would still be with us.

Nancy responded:

Actually, doctors, lawyers and engineers do work under considerable mandates, especially if they practice in areas where they are employed by the public; many of them also work for others, who control their immediate work practice/load, and measure their outcomes. Civil and mechanical engineers' work products (think bridges) are rigorously tested, and new doctors in a corporate practice will be expected to treat a specific number of patients daily. They also come out of professional school with incredible debt loads, which may not permit them to work "for themselves" until they're in their 40s.

It's technical expertise that separates professionals from non-professionals, and teaching, unfortunately, has a weak technical knowledge base. We reinforce this every time we say "teaching is an art" or allow someone with no training into a classroom as the teacher of record. When we permit substitute teachers without education degrees to "cover" classrooms, or reduce teacher training to six-week boot camps, we reinforce the notion that there isn't much to know about teaching. It's instinctive, natural, not very difficult.

I'm glad Anthony raised the question of the historical role of teachers. Historically, doctors were trained in helter-skelter fashion--some in two-year programs, some in six-year programs, with and without clinical experience. Until the Flexner report, early in this century, medical training was hit and miss, and there were lots of healers, barber-surgeons and midwives who had little or no formal training.

The Flexner report changed all that by establishing the ideas that there was one best way to practice medicine, rigorous scientific research would continue to update "best practice" protocols, and training should be standardized. And, with the standardization of training and required knowledge, came a true medical profession, what we speak of today when we wish teachers were treated like doctors.

There were downsides. Small, country medical schools were closed, including many medical schools for minorities, serving minority populations with a little less training but a lot of personal care. Medical training became prohibitively expensive, and public expectations about "perfect" medical care led to malpractice insurance (something lawyers in private practice are also required to have--but not teachers). True, doctors and lawyers have more decision-making power, but they also have full accountability.

We need to be careful what we wish for...but with that said, I personally believe professionalism is something that teachers  should pursue, aggressively. We should begin to embrace concepts like precise diagnosis and prescription for learning needs, and continuously investigate/research effective practice, and control standards and benchmarks for assessing good teaching.

We will not become professional without stepping on some of our colleagues, or without a great deal of internal discomfort. The reason I believe we can do this, however, is because teaching in some other countries looks MUCH more like a profession than it does here, largely because they've had schools, universities and a highly educated citizenry far longer than the U.S.. We're still dealing with the aftermath of teachers who had to start the fire, scrub the floor, and obey the rules about riding in cars with boys.

Renee replied:

I like both Nancy and Anthony's thoughtful responses to this — especially the historical context of our situation, which matters greatly. BTW, Anthony's reference to Rosa Parks reminds me that most people do not know that hers was not a spontaneous act of individual heroism. She was an officer in the NAACP, trained and prepared for direct action, with several organizations ready to back her up.

Theoretically, teachers could and should take a more aggressive stance to changing our public image and our leverage over our own profession. But as TB pointed out, this is a huge task and just figuring out where to start is daunting. One place, I would think, should be the licensure and certification boards in our respective states (or the push for a national one). If I had my way, every school board would be required to have one-third to one-half of its members be either practicing educators or persons with significant experience in public education.

However, just getting teachers on these bodies would not necessarily improve our overall situation (just as getting more blacks elected to various offices did not necessarily improve the quality of life for African Americans). Can we, as a profession, move to a consensus view on best practices, standard operating procedures, certification criteria, teacher education curricula and approaches? While we are also fighting off those non-educators who have carved comfortable careers and small fortunes off running (or ruining) our schools and careers? 

When the state Teachers of the Year tried to make a political statement last year about NCLB, it was greeted in the administration with almost paternalistic chagrin. But, if recognized groups of accomplished teachers continue to speak out loud enough and long enough, could we generate a critical mass? This is worth thinking and talking through more. Sounds like a great idea for some working conferences (maybe online ones) of teachers from different areas and organizations.

Why Don't More Schools Integrate LA and SS?

A TLN member wrote:

As the district coordinating teacher for social studies, I have been struggling to keep social studies in our elementary schools and to keep struggling kids in social studies at the middle school. To my dismay, we have had principals tell teachers to drop science and social studies in order to get in additional math and reading time. Other teachers, who don't care for social studies, simply know it isn't an area of emphasis and choose to minimize its instructional time.

Now that science will be tested annually at our elementary level, social studies has officially taken the lowest spot on the totem pole. Our parents want to know about our new social studies curriculum's scope and sequence and are concerned about the lack of social studies being taught at the elementary level.

I know you all have heard these scenarios before, but for the first time, I've had parents take notice. K-5 students may receive one hour of social studies per week and many schools rotate through science and social studies, teaching one a semester or quarter.

Bill, a middle grades teacher, replied:

I'm actually jazzed that your parents are raising a stink about the lack of social studies in the curriculum! Social studies is probably one of the more important subjects for success in the future, considering that kids will need to be able to function in a global economy. That's hard to do when they know nothing about the globe! And parent pressure just may get SS back on the radar in your district.

I think what frustrates me in conversations about social studies and language arts, though, is that people---particularly educators----see them as totally disconnected subjects. They're not!

I teach a completely integrated Language Arts and Social Studies class to sixth graders, and the way that I word it is this: "Language Arts" is not a subject. Instead, it is a set of skills that one uses to learn other subjects. So when we're selecting texts to read, we select social studies texts and incorporate reading skills into our lessons. When we're looking for topics to write about, we select social studies topics.

One good example might be this wiki:
http://staycurrent.pbwiki.com

My team of LA/SS teachers uses daily current events---which connect to our geography heavy/history light social studies curriculum---to teach reading skills. Each day, we select a current event (CE) that is aligned to a SS theme we are studying. Then, while reading through the CE, we focus on reading skills like "identifying main idea," "determining the meaning of words in context," or "discovering an author's bias." This 30-minute mini lesson is at once a social studies and a language arts teaching opportunity.

We finish each lesson with a multiple choice reading question or two (posted in the wiki for parents to see so they can better understand the kinds of reading tasks that are expected of their students) that measures reading ability and gives us instant feedback on student strengths and weaknesses----which we turn around and use to plan the next day's CE lesson.

Another example is the five paragraph essay writing we do. In our state, middle schoolers are required to write problem-solution and evaluation pieces. The social studies curriculum is a natural fit for both essay types. Instead of writing about school uniforms, our favorite movies or the best way to beautify our campus, we write about addressing challenges caused by limited natural resources or about our favorite European region.

Again---we're using LA skills to learn SS content. It's a perfect fit.

I guess I never totally understand why this kind of seamless integration doesn't happen in schools. LA teachers are already reading and writing something----why shouldn't it be content directly connected to the SS or SCI curriculum.

Photo credit: Mirko Garufi, Creative Commons 

 

Tax Breakage

In the Teacher Leaders Network discussion group, Mary Tedrow wrote:

A recent edition of NOW, the PBS news documentary show, reported on regressive tax systems, using Alabama as the example because it has the most regressive taxes in the nation.

The report "Taxing the Poor" explained regressive taxes to the uninitiated in great detail, but the true power of the lesson in taxation was told through the voices, faces, and the struggles of the poor of Alabama who are caught in a downward spiral of poverty -- brought on in large part by the structure of the taxing system.  I am sure that Renee (who lives in rural Mississippi) is intimately aware of the struggles of our rural poor and can speak to how this slow grind plays itself out in her state.

The reporter tried to get elected officials to explain their voting decisions from a moral standpoint.  It was obvious that not a one of them was comfortable defending their voting records when the hardship on the poor was highlighted, though they gave the usual lip service to "providing jobs" for all through tax cuts and favors to industry.

Conversely, these favors cut heavily into services provided for their electorate -- including gutting funding for schools. Leaving the poor inadequately educated only adds to their woes, including their inability to vote in behalf of their own interests. The uneducated voter is especially swayed by emotional appeals -- something that the resource-rich lobbies for business are especially able to exploit since there is plenty of money for quick, emotional spots on television. 

The industries are using the wealth created by the political favors to influence the electorate to vote against its own interests!  Tax cuts and write offs for the corporate world are made up by raising taxes on food, gasoline, and public utilities. Though these are often touted as a 'fair' tax because everyone pays them, for the poor, taxing food is particularly harmful as it means less food. For the well-to-do, taxing food is barely noticed.

I find this an interesting link to the argument we've often discussed that businesses think schools should be run more like a business.  The emphasis on a corporate view of the world continually puts profits before humans. In addition, the schools are often targeted by corporations as not producing an educated worker for their needs, even though the cuts to public moneys could be coming from those favors to industry mentioned above. Its a crazy catch-22 in some communities where schools are encouraged to do more with less only to provide employees for the groups who are profiting from public money spent to fuel private industry.

Though corporations do provide jobs, they often do so at the public's expense.  Corporations require a strong road system, rely heavily on the resources we all must share (clean water and air, places to dispose of waste), and the need for human capital in the form of raw labor and educated workers. When an industry moves into town and only offers hourly wages and weak insurance coverage (if that), the burden of keeping the workers healthy falls to public health services -- or is non-existent. (That’s another spiral: the poor avoid medical care until it is obviously late, making a controllable health issue into a critical medical problem.) Like the canary in the mine -- the worst damage is borne by the children, who are more vulnerable to poor nutrition, health, and cuts in other social supports.

The interesting point is that when most people come to understand the unfairness of the situation, they offer that they are willing to do more to help those less fortunate.  Most would willingly pay more in taxes so that all can benefit. They don't ever say they'd like paying the taxes, but they can see that having too much is just too much if it is at the expense of others.

Renee Moore replied:

I address a closely related issue in my most recent blog. Please read the PDK article by David Mathews if you haven't seen it yet.

This concept that if we run every part of the society based on free-market principles, we will fix everything, is at best oversimplistic and at worst heartless.

Theoretically, I have the right to choose whatever I want to eat, so I should be able to make healthy diet choices. But not if I live in a neighborhood that has only one poorly stocked, overpriced grocery store, no transportation, no reliable public transportation, and hungry children to feed. 

If I'm fortunate enough to have health insurance, I'm often told which doctors I can or can't use, and they're told what they can or can't do for me. If I don't have health insurance (like my daughter and son-in-law who both work full time and have three children), then I pray no one gets sick because there is only one hospital in town and they are not known for high quality service.

This is why I laugh whenever I hear people touting the benefits of vouchers and school privatization. If the government were capable of giving every family enough money to send all their children to a really good school, then the leaders who think this is a good idea must be planning on building a lot more schools, hiring a lot more teachers, and reinventing the public transportation system across the country. Right?

Of course not. Instead, they would give a token amount to each household and a "good luck to you" on your search for an educational option at the price you can pay.

Poverty is physically, emotionally, and spiritually draining. It sucks life out of a person and a community. Unfortunately, many of those who have never experienced it, tend to blame or overlook those who do.

Photo by romanlily - Creative Commons license

Save Our Librarians! Or Maybe Not

A March 11 story in the Arizona Republic cited a trend that seems to disturb some educators more than others. The headline reads: 'Shrinking Budgets Mean Fewer School Librarians.' Here's an excerpt:

Many Arizona school districts are shedding librarians and cutting their hours.

Like most other states, Arizona has no dedicated funding for libraries and no law requiring school libraries to exist. The fate of the libraries and librarians is up to district officials.

"Almost any district at any time facing a funding crisis can say, 'Here's an easy fix,' " said Sara Kelly Johns, president of the American Association of School Librarians. "They're looking at what programs are mandated instead of what programs are effective," Johns said.

Research shows that strong library programs improve student test scores. That has caused some states to maintain or even strengthen K-12 libraries. But Johns said more and more school libraries, especially in elementary and middle schools, are taking a hit….

Traditionally, school librarians have found books to inspire kids to read for the sheer joy of it and helped them to unravel the Dewey decimal system. Now, librarians also build and maintain computer-based libraries, teach kids to sort fact from fiction on the Internet and help teachers find online training or videos for lesson plans.

"The need for the librarian and the expert in the field hasn't changed; it has just multiplied," said Jaqie Gardner, the librarian at Fountain Hills High School. "We have the physical space to take care of, plus we have the virtual space."

When this story was shared in the TLN discussion group, Bill served as “devil’s advocate” in questioning whether there really is a long-term future for school-based librarians in a high-speed Internet world.

Over the course of the conversation, the focus morphed from a debate over the future of librarians and media specialists to a much broader discussion of whether there are differences in teachers’ accountability, determined by whether their subjects are tested in the high stakes accountability system. Here’s a sample from the week-long dialogue.

Bill, a language arts teacher in the middle grades, wrote:

This is a road I shudder to walk down again. The last time I said anything about librarians, all the hockey sticks broke out! But I've got a strictly objective and dispassionate question to ask:

Do you think the need for someone outside of the classroom teacher to teach kids fact from fiction on the Internet and to help teachers find online resources will remain the same over time? Or do you think younger teachers with greater digital savvy will be able to handle those tasks largely on their own in the future?

I know that in today's schools, there are tons of teachers who need help navigating a new digital landscape -- so "media specialists" are invaluable. But I think demand for these services will go down over time only because technology use will be embedded in the lives of young educators.

I know that I never end up using our school's media specialist, not because she doesn't do great things for people but because I'm comfortable without her support.

And my questions don't simply pertain to media specialists. I wonder if we try to "save the assistant principals" and "save the guidance counselors" and "save the shop teachers" and "save the (fill in the appropriate blank for your district)" at all costs because that's what schools do best.

We're inherently traditional, aren't we?

Yet we're working in a time that is rapidly changing, and those changes require non-traditional thinking about the ways we've always done things in order for us to keep pace. If we fail to rethink everything about our schools, we'll likely end up being wasteful somewhere.

Kitty, an elementary school media specialist, had her hockey stick handy:

I would ask you, Bill, if you are aware of the research which has demonstrated beyond any reasonable doubt that those schools that have full time media specialists have students who perform better and achieve higher scores on all achievement tests. There are several studies that have been conducted in recent years, so it truly boggles my mind that in light of that sort of documentation, anyone can justify cutting library media specialists out of the overall instructional program.

I would also have to challenge your assumption that the media specialist is only about teaching the difference between fiction and nonfiction or even about teaching kids how to navigate the ever growing digital landscape. We do WAY more than that -- assuming, of course, that we are doing our full job.

Reading is still the foundation for all other learning, is it not? As the media specialist in my building, I am responsible for maintaining a collection of high quality literature and other reading material that students can read for fun or for information depending upon their specific need at a specific time. How are kids to learn to read for the love of reading if they have no library, no library books, and no library media specialist to guide them through the world of literature? What happens if we neglect teaching reading as a life-long skill as opposed to simply consuming information presented in a digital format?

My job as the library media specialist has changed more over time than any other job in the building, so I am somewhat dismayed by your perception that maintaining a viable library collection or providing a viable library program is part of some outdated tradition.

My job as the library media specialist is also one of collaborator and instructional assistant in that I work with the teachers in my building to provide instructional units of learning to enhance the instruction in the classroom. I am a teaching partner, a instructional resource, and a provider of professional development programs when the teachers in my building need to be serve in those capacities. Just last week, for example, I taught a fifth grade unit on Reconstruction. Two weeks before, students came to the library and worked their way through five different stations using different instructional modalities to review concepts and facts about the Civil War.

Finally, last but not least, the number of students who come to my library for books to read "for fun" has tripled over the course of the seven years that I have been in my current building. My kids like coming to the library, and I believe they count on me and my library assistant to help them to find books and materials they can read and enjoy. If we were no longer around because of budget cuts, there is no one else who would be able to fill that void, and I shudder to think what would happen to my kids.

I don't pretend to be dispassionate about this issue (I imagine that’s obvious by now), but it is not about just protecting turf or maintaining outdated instructional programs as part of an outmoded tradition. If a library media specialist is doing the job that needs to be done in his/her building, he/she should be viewed as an indispensable part of the faculty and the overall instructional program. It saddens me no end that apparently there are colleagues in my specialty out there who haven't created that niche for themselves.

But that doesn't justify throwing the baby out with the bathwater, either.

Ariel, an eighth grade teacher, wrote:

Bill wrote that “we're working in a time that is rapidly changing----and those changes require non-traditional thinking about the ways we've always done things in order for us to keep pace. If we fail to rethink everything about our schools, we'll likely end up being wasteful somewhere.”

I'm all for rethinking roles in schools, but I'm NOT for putting sole responsibility for everything on teachers, even though teachers are amazing and have seemingly infinite potential. I do want there to be room for me to experiment outside of my traditional role without stepping on someone else's turf, but frankly I don't have time to learn, then plan, then try out, so many of the things I'd like to do in my classroom. I'm very happy to let someone else learn how to use certain technology tools and then share them with me or directly with my students.

As an English teacher I LOVE hanging out at the bookstore and perusing new adolescent literature, and I do maintain a pretty great library in my classroom that my students rely on. But I don't have nearly enough time to keep it as fresh and up to date as I'd like, nor do I have time to jump through hoops to get funding for it (I end up using my own money). I'd be so happy if my school had a full time librarian whose job it was to do just that.

I've also come to appreciate and rely on support staff members who really do their jobs. I've known guidance counselors and social workers who did essentially nothing for students or to support teachers. But I now work with an AP, a social worker and guidance counselor (all on the young end, incidentally, though I've known great seasoned social workers and AP's) who make themselves integral parts of our school's functionality.

We all probably need the chance to rethink our roles, but until then, I'm not comfortable absorbing someone else's job. Like I said, I want the leeway to be able to experiment, but I also want some boundaries I can count on so that I can have a personal life, and be able to participate in things like this Network.

Renee, a high school English teacher, wrote:

Don't worry, Bill, no hockey stick here. I think library/media specialists are invaluable in any school setting. First, because even in this digital age, not every teacher is equally comfortable with the various aspects of information media (there's more than using the Internet). Some teachers may be quite proficient at locating resources related to their own subject area, but not others.

I also appreciate the time and energy the librarian saves me by pulling things together for me and my students (and everybody else in the building), even preparing lessons on how to find and use sources, teaching those lessons to my students for me, and being an available resource for them, so they'll have someone other than me to look for when they have a question. When you teach 100-150 students a day, all those services represent a huge benefit for students as well as teachers.

David, another high school teacher, wrote:

In the past several months I have learned a whole new appreciation for what a librarian can do. Our new librarian has transformed the physical space in the library, and the role of librarian, all for the better. She (of course it's a she -- where are the male librarians?!) has made the library a comfortable, inviting space, where students' portraits are featured on the READ! posters instead of celebrities and athletes, and where you can't turn around without having new books "marketed" to you. She aggressively pursues funding and makes sure to know what students want to read. In fact, she promises to buy any book (within reason) that a student requests if it can't be located within our district system.

But wait, there's more! She has turned our library web page into the perfect research portal, with links not only to useful web sites (frequently updated), but more importantly, links to databases that we had never heard of before. She constantly shares her learning with students and faculty, and has made it much easier for all of us to find more and better information.

Could a classroom teacher do these things? Yes, but not as much, and usually not as well. It's a thoroughly different job and different skill set. I hope we have a lot in common, but having a specialist at the hub of all the research, media, and texts on campus makes such a difference. My sophomores are in better shape with their English research projects because of the librarian's experience helping the AP Music Theory students and the seniors in Economics.

Bill, in responding to Kitty’s comments, raised the issue of different levels of accountability for different teachers in a school, based on high-stakes accountability testing.

Kitty wrote: I would ask you, Bill, if you are aware of the research which has demonstrated beyond any reasonable doubt that those schools that have full time media specialists have students who perform better and achieve higher scores on all achievement tests.

I’ve read those reports. The big difference, Kitty, is that media specialists aren't held directly accountable for results on those exact same tests when students fail. The "teacher of record" is. In most buildings, when test scores are low, they don't pull the media specialist in for answers. It's me sitting on the other side of the table.

I wonder if my thoughts (are a) response to the crushing pressures that standardized testing places on some -- but not all --members of a school community. In the end, when our students succeed, everyone in our building takes credit. When our students don't succeed, the finger points at me.

While I love all of the great stories about the wonderful contributions that are made by remarkable professionals outside the classroom to the overall health of a school -- and while those wonderful contributions are made by media specialists, APs, and guidance counselors in my building too -- the only contribution that is considered valuable from me are student scores on end of grade exams.

That's something I struggle with. "Love of reading" means nothing when it's a contribution that I make. It's not tested. "Guiding kids through the world of literature" is also something I do -- but it's not recognized or rewarded. Teaching "healthy living," "life long learning" and "twenty first century skills" happens every day in my room -- but none of those outcomes mean anything because they aren't tested.

I guess what I want is an equal distribution of the pressures and consequences of testing.

Kitty replied:

You make some valid points, Bill, but what occurs to me at this early morning moment is that just because something isn't tested on a multiple choice test, that doesn't mean it's not important. In fact, I would argue that the most important learning that takes place is often that which cannot and never will be tested in any traditional sense. Which, of course, points to part of the problem inherent in the accountability movement. The "love of learning" is an intangible outcome of one's education, but just because it can't be tested, should we forget about trying to encourage it?

You're right about the media specialists not being held directly accountable for the test results of the individual teacher. We are held accountable for many other things.

Nancy commented:

In my experience, "younger" teachers don't necessarily understand the effective use of technology in schools any better than older teachers. They may have vastly more experience in social networking or playing with Blabberize, but in terms of higher-level knowledge acquisition, application and synthesis, not so much.

And besides, if all your media specialist is doing is teaching kids how to find online resources, you need a better media specialist. It's the misunderstanding of what media specialists actually do (or can do) that causes school boards to think: "Oh, they just check out materials; any aide can do that" and pink-slip them.

I give media specialists a great deal of credit. They have had to re-invent their occupation in the past couple of decades, something that English teachers have not been forced to do. Most of them have done a splendid job. To think that, in this media-soaked universe, we would want to dismiss a media SPECIALIST, someone with specific knowledge on how media impacts, molds and influences our thinking, is counter-productive, to say the least.

Let's not get into arguments about whose subject discipline is expendable. (I say this as a music teacher, who has had to defend my program dozens of times.) I fully believe in teacher accountability and responsibility -- if a teacher is not producing satisfactory results (and those results vary by discipline and grade level), then the teacher needs to improve or be let go. But to pit tested teachers vs. untested teachers is folly.

In most places, thank God, kindergarten students are not subjected to statewide assessments. So are their teachers "not accountable?" And I wish my middle school had guidance counselors to save. We lost them in a budget crisis back in the 80s, and they never came back. But the Board said we had lots of moms and dads on the teaching staff, and they could help the kids "adjust."

Sarah, a high school librarian, wrote:

As a teacher librarian, this discussion strand has certainly caught my eye. The past few months in Washington State, we have been working really hard with the legislature to ensure funding (and equity) for school libraries around the state. As specialists, we are first to be cut and in struggling schools, this has an even bigger impact on students who don’t have the support to get to the public library -- if there is one nearby.

Here’s the other side of accountability: We have tried for YEARS to be counted (based on whatever the counting measure is at any given time) but continue to be cut because we are not tested, we are specialists, and we are difficult for principals to evaluate. We have even said, aloud, “I wish we were a tested area -- then we would matter.” We as teacher librarians are often behind the scenes, planning with teachers, working with students one-on-one, or making sure our materials match the curriculum of the school.

On the other hand, as teacher librarians, we are more like public figures in a school. Teachers see what we do, and don’t do, more easily. We can’t shut our doors and hide. We are still fighting the stereotype of the librarian, bun and glasses (and female) who doesn’t want the kids to “mess up” the books. Many people have said “all my librarian does is sit and read.” And the reality is that yes, that is part of our job. But it should be so much more.

The testing frenzy has impacted the library I work in by decreasing use. Teachers are worried about testing, coverage and scope and sequence and then testing some more. The total process of teaching and learning isn’t emphasized. I would argue that research and library skills are useful for all tested areas, but instead of broadening the learning experiences kids have, teaching and learning has been narrowed to “released items” and “practice tests” because they are easy to control and measure. Sad. But it is only Monday. There is hope.

Susan, a family and consumer science teacher, responded:

First of all, Bill, I love that you are willing to ask hard questions.

You are not the average teacher, and while you may be very proficient as a technology user and as a researcher, not all teachers are. If all a librarian does is check out books, then, maybe they are expendable. And if all shop teachers do is make birdhouses, then they may be expendable too. In fact, if Family and Consumer Science teachers focus on chocolate chip cookies and cross stitch, we are unnecessary.

But I would also argue that if a Chemistry teacher is stuck on the memorization of the Periodic Tables or an English teacher focuses on little more than writing research papers that compile and critique existing literary analysis of the "Great Books," then these teachers are also expendable.

Yes, the content area teacher for end-of-year tested subject matter is the teacher of record. That is the burden you bear. Other teaching positions bear their own. How about the Special Ed teacher who has to make accommodations for testing and prepare each child for testing at his or her level? That shop teacher, if he is teaching in a high school program, has been doing competency reports for many years, and he is expected to follow up on whether his former students are gainfully employed in the field.

If he's an auto mechanics teacher, he will be judged based on the number of his students who receive industry certification at the end of his program. (And by the way, he'll be doing this with kids that were probably seen as "lost causes" for college prep.) If he's in a middle school, he's likely to be seeing hundreds of students over the course of the year and many of them are likely to be special ed. He has to insure safety as well as instruct.

Performing Arts teachers are likely to have a 200-plus student load and they take their students to contests where they receive ratings. That PE position you imagine as has less pressure? That's fine if it doesn't involve a coaching position. Those folks are held accountable for every game, and that's after they've finished teaching their classes. A few people around here are old enough to remember when the PE department was held responsible for getting every child in shape so we could hold off the Red Army with push ups, endurance running and doing some sort of balance thing where you held your right foot and jumped over it on your right foot. (This last one resulted in a lot of kids going to the school nurse, definitely an endangered species today.)

Does everyone need to call upon the media specialist, the shop teacher, the literature teacher, the calculus teacher, the PE teacher? Probably not. But they all have something important to contribute.

Do Schools with 1 or 2 Grade Levels Make Sense?

Someone in the TLN discussion group asked:

My school district is thinking of changing to grade level centers. One school would have all of the district's PK-1st grade students. One school would have all of the 3rd and 4th graders. One school would have all of the 5th graders. We have two middle schools and only one high school.

The superintendent supports this idea, believing it will save money and encourage collaboration. Does anyone in our group have research or experience with grade-level centers?

Another TLN member (from a small school district) replied:

My district did this several years back -- sliced the system into 2-grade buildings. It was done because we were growing rapidly and needed a new middle school and a new elementary building, and there was fear that parents wouldn't vote for a bond issue to build a new building unless their child could attend school there.

There is no research that I know of that supports this sorting out of grade levels as being "good for kids." Based on our experience, I can think of several reasons NOT to do it:

1. Parents suddenly have kids in multiple buildings. My next door neighbor, who had four children, had to attend conferences in the K-2 building, the 3-4 building, the 5-6 building and the 7-8 building, all in one year. Not to mention Open Houses, concerts, basketball games, etc. If you have no more than two children, your kids are still continuously in different buildings -- there is never a "home" building that becomes your family's school base.

2. The residual knowledge that a teaching staff has, as a child moves through the grades in that building, is lost every time the child goes to a new building. I know that records transfer, but the informal conversations -- "you had Jason in first grade -- was he acting out then?"-- don't happen when Jason's new teachers are in a different building.

3. Every time a child moves to a new building, there are transition issues--finding your way around, feeling comfortable with new rules, a new principal, new cafeteria procedures, new bathrooms. Transitions are rough anyway--why build in more of them?

4. You drastically reduce the role-modeling opportunities that develop when you have a K-5, 6-8, 9-12 sort of school structure. In a K-5 school, certain privileges and leadership roles may be established for older kids-- safety patrol, student council, reading buddies, etc. These opportunities are good for kids, letting them feel responsibility and accomplishment. Conversely, when you have only two grades in a building, the worst qualities of that age group are accentuated. In a 9th grade building, for example, there are no college-bound seniors, no varsity volleyball team, no accomplished musicians and artists headed off to fine arts programs, no National Merit scholars. In our 9th grade building, you could smell the untempered hormones in the hallway, and there was nobody to look up to – no sense of what was next.

5. Having a 5/6 and a 7/8 school, instead of two 5/8 buildings, means only one basketball team, one chorus, one school play, one student council, etc.. There are fewer chances to shine (and it may bump your 7/8 up into a new athletic class). Smaller, multi-grade schools mean lots more things to try out and less competition for opportunities. This is the principle behind the small schools movement.

6. Finally, there’s reason to be skeptical of the "extra year of childhood" argument. My school said that 6th and 8th graders didn't belong in the same building--they were too developmentally different, and the 6th graders deserved an extra year of just being kids. What happened, of course, is that the unstoppable, burgeoning adolescence of the 6th graders impacted the 5th graders, their new classmates.

7. Oh — and one other thing. How will this save money?

In a later post, a member of the TLN discussion group noted research by Sanders and Horn which William L. Sanders summarized in this 1998 article from School Administrator magazine:

The effect of building-level change: When populations of students change buildings, the expected loss in academic gain the first year after the change is large (averaging 15 to 30 percent), with few exceptions observed across the state. Receiving schools do not have a good handle on where the feeder schools have ended their instruction, which results in much unnecessary reteaching. A compensatory effect in gain shows up the following year, but this effect does not negate the academic loss the first year after the change.

The poster noted that "if this research holds water, it's reasonable to wonder about the effect of changing schools every year on two on academic progress."

Do Teachers Have the Will to Be Accountable?

In his useful book Results Now, Mike Schmoker probes the connection between teacher isolationism and the difficulty in bringing about whole-school improvement. In Chapter One of his book, which is subtitled How We Can Achieve Unprecedented Improvements in Teaching and Learning, Schmoker speaks of the "buffer" or protective barrier "that discourages and even punishes close, constructive scrutiny of instruction and the supervision of instruction." Its primary effect, he says, is to protect these two activities, which lie at the heart of successful schools, from outside inspection, interference, or disruption. He writes:

Unlike other professionals and despite near-universal agreement on the importance of teaming, teachers do not work in teams. They do not prepare lessons and assessments together and they do not test and refine their lessons regularly on the basis of assessment results.

Schmoker then offers some evidence of the consequences of teachers’ failure to work together to improve instruction:

A sobering recent study based on 1,500 classroom observations puts a fine point on these trends. If you care about student learning, these findings are chilling:

• Classrooms in which there was evidence of a clear learning objective -- 4 percent

• Classrooms in which high-yield strategies were being used -- 0.2 percent

• Classrooms in which there was evidence of higher-order thinking -- 3 percent

• Classrooms in which students were either writing or using rubrics -- 0 percent

• Classrooms in which fewer than one-half of students were paying attention -- 85 percent

• Classrooms in which students were using worksheets -- 52 percent

Schmoker speculates that “things have improved — slightly" since this survey was done four years ago. “I would expect more teachers to be using rubrics, for example," he says. "But if even these numbers  [have] DOUBLED, look at how far we have to come....”

Summing up, Schmoker writes:

These observations and statistics, taken together, explode the old myths and excuses. They clearly show that our current results have to be a reflection of a school culture that, in too many cases, has an alarming tolerance for mediocre instruction, worksheets, and busy work — at the expense of effective, intellectually viable reading, writing, and learning activities.

Surely, we can make significant changes here, but not unless we're willing to take on this buffer, which prevents us from seeing these realities. At its heart is an unexamined addiction to [teacher] privacy and isolation.

A TLN member offered these comments after reading Schmoker’s frank appraisal of teacher isolationism and a general unwillingness to support mutual accountability:

We truly are a nation with entrenched classroom methods, whether they work or not for our kids. I keep hoping it's because teachers don't know any different, which is why I keep banging the drum of active learning and student engagement. Too often, unfortunately, both new and experienced teachers aren't really jiving to the beat. Is it because this music requires a lot more time and effort than lecturing, worksheets, and tests? I know it did for me.

I'm a "teacher leader" as a reading and literacy coach, well-respected and welcome at my school — up to a point. After a half-dozen years I've finally gotten a foothold on group change within the English department, despite a few holdouts.Through professional development, I'm still working on the other departments (even though they're not in my job description) because in some departments we have no teacher leadership -- no teachers interested in making any changes to their individual practice.

I'm still looking for that "critical mass" of teacher leaders in my school who might hold all teachers accountable, because it seems clear the impetus is never going to come from outside. Outside, the battle between central administration and union leadership keeps us at an impasse. Mandates are often put forth but rarely enforced. Teachers who should not be in classrooms remain, supported in their mediocrity (or worse). We tried out a process of consensus leadership in our district. It fizzled and we’re back more than ever to a top-down approach.

Teachers are feeling very disenfranchised and disenchanted. Are we the only ones who can change this direction? I do believe real positive change is dependent upon teachers themselves, but do we have the will?

What Makes a Teacher Irrelevant?

During our recent lengthy discussions around 21st Century teaching and learning, the conversation turned to a question heard more and more frequently in education circles: If schools, and more to the point, teachers fail to integrate digital technologies, the Internet, etc. into their teaching, will they become soon become irrelevant?

Here's some of what Marsha, a middle school science teacher, had to say in response:

What would make someone irrelevant? Is it because their knowledge is out of date? Is it because the style of assessment no longer accurately measures what it is intended? Is it because of the way in which the message is delivered? Is it because they don't understand the people with whom they are dealing?

For me these questions get at the issue of teacher irrelevance -- and I think I have different answers that some might have.

Is our knowledge out of date? I'm not sure. With subjects that are built on factoids, I'd probably agree. History has certainly racked up quite a lot of events in the last 100 years. But what if you're not a history teacher who focuses on dates, places and events. What if you're a history teacher who teaches the concepts of power, migration and leadership through dates, places & events? Would you be more effective using more timely evidence? You bet, but the powerful lessons of history would not be lost by simply examining non-current (is that a word?) data. Or how about the great themes of literature? Love, jealousy, power and so on still are at the heart of our literature, aren't they?

Is our style of assessment no longer accurately measuring learning? Now here's one that I often worry about. I'd bet the answer is yes. When I hear my mother recall how she taught in her rural Missouri one-room school house in the early decades of the 20th century, I hear lots of references to ongoing, continuous formative assessments. She knew each of her students’ abilities, personalities and challenges to a "T"...and she catered their instruction to meet them where they were. Yes, children got left behind, but only to try again the next year. I'm not sure many of my colleagues are doing this kind of assessment now.

Is it because of the way we deliver the message? Now here's where I think we should have some serious concerns. With students, I find that it takes a much more accomplished teacher to engage and motivate if the toolset is not current. I do think the use of technology can obscure the inability or inaccuracy of some teachers because students love the medium more than the message. I spend hours and hours teaching myself how to do all this new fangled stuff -- much to the delight of my students and the frustration of the administration. (smile) But how I use it and whether students learn as much or more when I use it is what really matters.

Is it because we don't understand our audience and our lessons fall short of gaining their interest? Have students changed? Have their parents changed? Has the job that society has assigned to teachers changed? These answers would tell you much about our irrelevance.

Honestly I have a hard time thinking that the big ideas of our world are boring to anyone. How can the great ideas of science be boring when it reveals so much about how our world works (or doesn't work)? How can the great themes of literature and history not suck you into deep thinking? And, my personal favorite, how can the patterns explained by mathematics not make you feel powerful as you uncover secrets? I think you could do all this without a lick of technology and it would still be enthralling. Complement it with the tools and the medium of 2008 and it will be transformative.

I just went to hear the HD broadcast of the Metropolitan Opera on Saturday. I could never afford to go to the Met and have only been to NYC once in my whole life. Now because of technology I've heard and seen The Magic Flute, The Barber of Seville, The First Emperor, and Macbeth as the Met seeks out younger audiences from across the world. But the operas themselves haven't changed. They are powerful and moving because of the way they were written, performed and produced. (I'm looking forward to hearing the opening to Tristan and Isolde as well as hearing La Boheme later this season.)

Do I think technology is critical? Yes, but as an enhancer or an amplifier to good solid curriculum, instruction and assessment. It's why I spend so much time trying to become proficient with at least some pieces. Does technology makes the great ideas of our disciplines any more compelling? I'd say no.

Image copyright Cartoon Stock - licensed for use

THIS Was a Flex Schedule!

When Nancy D. asked, 'Does anyone in the Teacher Leaders Network use a flex schedule? I'd love to know how teachers work out who gets what time and how students are grouped,' she got quite an answer.

Anne wrote:

I had an unusual situation with regard to flex scheduling. Our system opened a new middle school, and our principal was a true middle school believer. He put kids and teachers in teams, blocked out the times that our students would go to electives/PE and lunch, and told us -- "The rest of the day is yours. No bells." Wow! What would you do as a team of teachers if your principal told you that?

Two grade levels went right back to traditional periods. However, we eighth-grade teachers decided to push it to the max! We figured out how many minutes each student needed in each subject per week to meet state requirements. We looked at the available time -- noticing that the time did not work out in five equal parts -- so we put our kids on a rotating block schedule. We designed it so that no class would meet "last period" more often than once per week. (Now, THAT could be the topic of a dissertation in itself! No question that the time of day a class meets has a tremendous influence.)

The neat thing was that we were free to keep changing and adjusting. We tweaked our first schedule after about four weeks so that all kids rotated to classes in a particular order . . . math, science, language arts, history, and critical thinking and problem solving. That meant that when they changed classes everyone just moved one classroom to the left -- no crisscrossing between rooms -- for a smoother traffic flow.

As far as how to group students, that was always a challenge. But keep in mind that we had freedom to make changes as needed so we felt truly empowered, and we felt that discipline issues were things we could deal with. We started out by dividing up students pretty much randomly. Then we observed them, decided which ones would be better off apart, and made some adjustments after four weeks or so. Keep in mind that we all taught these students and the classes were heterogenous, so being switched from one group to another was no big deal in terms of any kind of change in teaching and learning.

Our biggest "go out on a limb" moment was one I'll never forget. Because our school was a new facility, the 8th grade wasn't full that year -- students were already enrolled at other middle schools and were not asked to change. So our 8th grade that first year was made up of transfer students . . . and do I need to tell you who was transferred? I'm imagining that the other area middle schools undoubtedly had trouble-free 8th grade classes that year!

Anyway, being empowered to make professional decisions about classes and students is energizing, and we dealt with the influx of students with problems. By the second semester we made a decision that shook our principal to the bone, but to his credit he didn't stop us. (Later he credited us for a wise decision).

We realized that we had 22 young men in our student group who were either felons, on medication for various behavior disorders, or both. These guys could pretty much tear apart a class -- even if just four or five of them were in it. And, they were learning absolutely nothing. So we pulled them together into a class of their very own. The purpose was not to punish them for having problems -- it was to allow us to find a way for them to leave school that year (maybe for the first time in their lives) having actually had an enjoyable learning experience of some sort.

Of course, the start-up was rough. Some parents were drastically unhappy and came to visit, but we were able to show them our plans, their child's need for some successful experiences, and with the principal's support we kept the students grouped that way.

As the year went on, a professor from a nearby university met with these guys to help them select a site for a wetland for the school area. (The students decided they wanted a wetland -- certainly not a suggestion from the central office.) These young men took real ownership of this project, and they built an entire wetland -- weir and all -- and with the help of the other 8th grade students, they stocked it plants from the area. I have so many funny and memorable stories, and so many warm thoughts about these young men. They were great outside and worked together cooperatively. Inside it was a whole different story. (We used to reflect together on the different dynamics in the outside and inside class.)

We were able to do ongoing projects like this with students because we could use the flex schedule to lengthen or shorten periods as we desired, so long as we were able to give each subject the correct number of minutes each week.

Nancy, this has been a gruelingly long answer to your concise question. Teachers worked out the schedule times by sheer determination, force of will, and gratitude that we had freedom and support in our teaching journey that year. Same with dividing students. We had no formula or written procedure. And I can't say enough for our principal. Despite his doubts, shakes, and probably sheer terror at times, he made a commitment to support us as leaders and professionals, and he did so.