On the penultimate Friday night of the school year, I gathered with about 10 colleagues from my school to bid farewell to four beloved members--2 middle school teachers and 2 high school teachers--of the science department. After enjoying some food and socializing, what began as a time of reflecting on the significant contributions of these four teachers blossomed into an amazing time during which words of vulnerability, encouragement and thanksgiving were shared by all of us about each other. Joyful laughter and heartrending tears rang out into the night alternately. Fears, disappointments, admiration, struggles, hopes and appreciation were all shared with great intimacy that night. The significance of what happened that night is profound and I will never forget it.
For over two hours as we either fought back our tears or just let them flow, we heard how these four colleagues, along with the rest of us, had existed as a community that had challenged, supported, encouraged and engaged each other so meaningfully over the past few years. Even though most of us had only worked together for about five years, the tears and heartache expressed that evening reflected a level of intimacy usually only found (if ever) in professional relationships forged over decades. Some people work for 30 years in a profession and never achieve the depth of relationships that I have found with my current colleagues--so how did it come to be this way?
I think that there is something about the sticky mess that is public education (at least at my school) and something about working with kids that provides the conditions necessary to get to that Friday night. How does one deal with a 15 year-old who plans to drop out of school at age 16 by oneself? How does one deal with parental accusations of incompetence by oneself? How does one deal with high stress and low pay (and the commensurate feeling of being undervalued) by oneself? How does one deal with a 16 year-old student who can't pass Algebra I but who plans to become an actuary by oneself? How does one deal with accusations of racist favoritism by oneself? How does one deal with endless bureaucratic procedures--that may actually inhibit student learning--but which seem designed solely to limit litigation, by oneself? How does one deal with the implications of families with means fleeing the school system you work for in favor of private schools by oneself? How does one deal with the interpersonal interactions with 120 adolescents every day for 180 days by oneself? The answer, I think, is that one can't deal with such things by oneself. Survival necessitates community. The bonds between my fellow teachers and me were forged as we worked side-by-side in a profession that demands your heart and soul; we developed an intimate interdependence that enabled us to sustain each other through the emotion-filled and often heart-wrenching highs and lows that are altogether common in teaching.
My colleagues have poured their lives out into their students and their school. They are the smartest, most passionate, most caring, most interesting and sometimes the most discouraged people I have ever met. I am honored to have worked beside them--their self-sacrifice, their commitment to social justice, their concern for helping kids, their innovative and creative pedagogies, their leadership and vision, and their sensitive hearts certainly have made me a better teacher and more importantly, a better person. I was blessed to experience that Friday night with my fellow teachers and dear friends and am even more blessed to have experienced the days, weeks, months and years leading up to it. I am thankful to have participated in and benefited from the building of such an intimate community of adults--to love and be loved so deeply by the people with whom you work is truly a gift.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
The Money Quote, Part II
My soon-to-be-departed principal and his wife had a baby a few months ago. Recently he and I were talking about his new job and he said a big reason why he and his wife were excited to go to China was that their child
"would be able to attend good schools there."
While I haven't totally unpacked the significance of an American public school leader feeling like he has to move to China for his daughter to have access to good schools, I can't help but feel a sense of foreboding about it...
"would be able to attend good schools there."
While I haven't totally unpacked the significance of an American public school leader feeling like he has to move to China for his daughter to have access to good schools, I can't help but feel a sense of foreboding about it...
4 Principals in 4 Years
A few weeks ago, our principal informed us that he would be leaving our school to become the Middle School Head at an American School in Shanghai. A search committee has been formed to find our next fearless leader. This next principal will be the fourth in four years at my school (the fifth if you count the principal who hired me, but who retired before my first day of school). What does such high turnover say about the being principal at my school?
Saturday, May 5, 2007
Education and Technology
Education and technology are becoming increasingly intertwined. The theory is that the more adept students are at using technology, the more prepared they will be for finding 21st Century jobs. In education there are people--often called Instructional Technology Consultants or Educational Technology Consultants--who consistently advocate for increasing the use of technology in the classroom. We should not fail to note, however, that an increase in the use of technology in schools necessarily increases the demand for the services these people provide--how nicely that works out for them!
Anyway, it seems to me that schools often blindly follow the advice of these people and embrace technology before understanding what it would take to make that technology educationally relevant for students. Case in point from the NY Times--a recent article about schools and school systems that had issued laptops to all students. These schools are now finding that 1) students are using the laptops for non-educational purposes (online gaming, pornography, hacking into school networks) more than for educational purposes, and 2) these programs are incredibly expensive because of the maintenance required of laptops. Surprise, surprise...
Apparently another use of technology in education is to bribe students to perform well on standardized tests: At Northern High School in Durham, NC, school administrators are offering free iPods to students who score a top score of "4" on the North Carolina State Writing Assessment. Why are they doing this? Apparently many students do not show up for school on the day of this test. Many other students do not try to do their best on this test. Why not? Perhaps because this test doesn't count for a grade. Perhaps because they are tired of all of the standardized testing in North Carolina.
Anyway, it seems to me that schools often blindly follow the advice of these people and embrace technology before understanding what it would take to make that technology educationally relevant for students. Case in point from the NY Times--a recent article about schools and school systems that had issued laptops to all students. These schools are now finding that 1) students are using the laptops for non-educational purposes (online gaming, pornography, hacking into school networks) more than for educational purposes, and 2) these programs are incredibly expensive because of the maintenance required of laptops. Surprise, surprise...
Apparently another use of technology in education is to bribe students to perform well on standardized tests: At Northern High School in Durham, NC, school administrators are offering free iPods to students who score a top score of "4" on the North Carolina State Writing Assessment. Why are they doing this? Apparently many students do not show up for school on the day of this test. Many other students do not try to do their best on this test. Why not? Perhaps because this test doesn't count for a grade. Perhaps because they are tired of all of the standardized testing in North Carolina.
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Lunch Duty
For the next two weeks, during my 30-minute lunch break, I have Lunch Duty. This entails sitting on a chair outside of the boys' bathroom next to the cafeteria. I don't really know what I'm supposed to do there--make sure the boys flush after using the urinals? interrogate passers-by? stare intently at 6th graders?--but we've all been told how important it is that we are at our duty stations.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
The Money Quote
So subtle, I almost missed it.
From a recent parent email:
"Hopefully, we'll see an improvement in grades. That's the goal and objective."
Interesting...I thought the goal and objective was an improvement in learning.
From a recent parent email:
"Hopefully, we'll see an improvement in grades. That's the goal and objective."
Interesting...I thought the goal and objective was an improvement in learning.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
The Emperor Has No Clothes
Three days ago I participated in a meeting for a student who is in our Exceptional Children's (EC) program (i.e., Special Education). The purpose of the meeting was to reevaluate his Individualized Education Plan (IEP). This student is failing all of his core academic classes; he is also receiving D's and F's in his elective classes (something almost as rare at my school as the white rhino). He is enrolled in the lowest levels of each class that we offer at our school for ninth graders including:
- Standard-level Science
- Standard-level History
- Inclusion English (which means there is a special ed teacher in the classroom in addition to the regular teacher)
- Career-track inclusion Math (which means that there is a special ed teacher in this class also and that this math is not a part of the college-prep curriculum accepted by the University of North Carolina)
A sad situation for sure. Now here is where the situation gets even sadder: This student's parent says, "I just want to make sure that he gets through high school so that he can get to college, where things will be easier." Then the Exceptional Children's Coordinator, the student's EC caseworker, his math teacher, and I all look at the mother and nod in agreement. No one says anything.
I hate to be fatalistic, but it seems unlikely that, given this student's performance so far in high school, that college will be an option. But there is this idea out there that all kids should go to college, or at least have the option of going to college. The President says it, Senators say it, educators say it, parents want to believe it, kids believe it. But the reality is that not all kids will have the option of going to college, and perhaps--although this may be educational heresy--not all kids should.
My school really offers no vocational options to students. As an arts magnet school, we basically offer the college prep curriculum and an abundance of art electives. How is the student mentioned above being served by my school? It doesn't appear that he will become an artist (given his performance and interest in his arts classes) and the academic work is killing him. Even if he is able to graduate in 5 years after repeating the ninth grade, what will he be prepared to do? How will the classes he will have taken--World History, Physical Science and Earth Science, Spanish 1, Career Math, Clay 1--prepare him to be a self-sufficient and contributing member of society?
The fact is that we (educators) don't want to tell people that they should begin thinking of options other than college prep--such as vocational programs--and parents and students wouldn't want to hear it even if we said it. But it seems that at some point as a society we need to pull our heads out of the sand, realize that perhaps college is not for everybody, and consider the possibility that there's nothing wrong with that.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
What's the Problem in Physics?
I have a good friend who teaches physics at my school. He has taught for over 10 years, is National Board Certified, and has a PhD in biomedical engineering. Over the past several years the scores of his physics students on the North Carolina End-of-Course (EOC) test in physics have been at or near the top of the district. Last year, our school district decided to implement "benchmark" testing throughout the year in order to ensure that teachers and/or students are on track for the EOCs. These test supposedly mimic the EOCs and give district officials probable cause to interrogate principals and teachers whose scores aren't where they should be.
On the first benchmark test of this year, my friend's physics students scored below the district average. The principal's response to this development was to ask my friend, "What's the problem in physics?" My friend reacted with indignation to this comment by the principal. Why did such a seemingly innocent question catalyze such a strong reaction from my friend? I think that unpacking this situation will reveal much about the dynamics within my school; further, I believe this situation is emblematic of some larger, common problems that occur vis-a-vis public schools in the Testing Era.
1) If poor student test scores can be grounds for teacher critique, good test scores should be used for encouragement. At no time during the past seven years of teaching in a high-stakes accountability environment has my friend received affirmation from the principal for his consistently outstanding test scores. One can't have it both ways: either the test scores are meaningful (both positive and negative) and say something about the job the teacher is doing, or they are useless and don't warrant a response. It is demoralizing for teachers when administrators are silent about high test scores but jump on a teachers for low test scores.
2) Superficial conclusions will infuriate teachers. The question that the principal posed to my friend was really a conclusion: that there must be a problem in physics this year and that it must be simple enough to be explained right then and there, in a sound-bite. This occurred in the school's main office, where my friend had gone to drop off a form. The bell to signal the beginning of the next class period was set to ring momentarily. The question the principal asked does not have a simple answer. As such, it doesn't warrant the simplistic, 5-minute sound-bite answer ("I forgot to teach the unit on mechanics," "I neglected to tell the kids that g=9.8 m/s/s," "I told the students that they could use ballpoint pen to bubble in the answer form on the benchmark") that he must have been expecting. Hamstrung, there was really no way my friend could respond in that context, in the busy main office of the school, in the middle of the day, 5 minutes before 24 students would be pounding on his classroom door to be let in. The person asking that question needed to be willing to work a little harder to hear a legitimate--rather than a simplistic--analysis of the state of his physics classes this year. Absent that, a little righteous indignation on the part of the teacher is perhaps understandable.
3) Superficial conclusions are based on superficial analyses. The test scores in question were the average percent correct for my friend's physics students on that benchmark test compared to that of the rest of the district. Hypothetically, let's say my friend's students had averaged 80% correct on the test while the rest of the district averaged 87% correct. That doesn't look too good. But what if his students were not especially high achieving students? Then is getting 80% correct really so bad? What if the average math PSAT score of the other physics students in the district was 650, while the average math PSAT score of my friend's students was 575. Now those scores are actually beginning to look a little better. The problem with comparing average scores of different cohorts of students without controlling for any other variables is that it can only lead to superficial conclusions such as the one proffered by the principal.
In North Carolina there are two sets of test scores that are relevant for different reasons. The first set of relevant scores are basically the percentage of items that students get correct on a given test--these are called Composite Scores. This is the set of scores that gets published in local newspapers, that gets on school websites, and that most of the general public (and sadly probably many educators) thinks is the only data that matters. However, there is another data set in calculated in North Carolina that is perhaps more important. This second set of data is student Growth Scores. For each test given in North Carolina, the state Department of Public Instruction has devised a formula that, given a student's past performance on other relevant tests, predicts their performance on the current test. If a student performs as predicted, he has Met Growth. If the student scores far enough below the predicted score, he has No Growth. If the student scores far enough above the predicted score, the he may achieve High Growth. In North Carolina, schools are awarded bonuses based on how many of their students meet the various levels of Growth. I would argue--assuming that the prediction formula is legitimate (which is a whole 'nother kettle of fish)--that Growth Scores are more powerful indicators of how the teachers and students are doing than are the Composite Scores. If a student who is predicted to score a 75 instead scores an 87, the teacher might be doing something really well. If a student who is predicted to get a 95 instead scores 73, then there might be a problem. Sadly, growth scores are not published in the newspaper, on school websites, and in my experience are even difficult to get my hands on as a teacher. I have yet to see individual growth scores for any of my students, yet it would be quite helpful for me to know which students are learning more than predicted and which are learning less than predicted. The fact that I just had to write a paragraph explaining what Growth Scores are is probably the reason why, despite their usefulness, these scores are not utilized for the benefit of increased student achievement: these scores require more than a superficial understanding to interpret them.
It also turns out that AP Biology has become wildly popular at my school. This is the result of it being taught by a wonderful teacher and the fact that the class takes an annual trip to an exotic, tropical location each spring break. As a consequence of this, many high-performing juniors are enrolling in AP Biology in lieu of physics. Since only 3 years of science are required for graduation, and because my school is an arts magnet school, many of these students stop taking science after AP Biology. This swell in AP Biology enrollment is causing fewer high-achieving students to take physics and it seems reasonable this trend could cause average physics scores--BUT NOT NECESSARILY GROWTH SCORES--to drop.
In fact, my friend the physics teacher has led the district and my school in Growth Scores over the past five years. Because of the growth scores of his students in physics and physical science, he is almost single-handedly responsible for my school receiving bonus money for each of the past five years. And the students he currently teaches, those same students who scored below the district average on the benchmark test, may very well receive high growth scores on the EOCs at the end of the year because those scores take into account that his students are not necessarily the same as the other physics students around the district. So the question of "what's the problem in physics" should probably become "is there a problem in physics?" I guess we'll have to wait and see.
But does anyone (policy makers, administrators, the general public) really want to take the time to look this deeply at the issues? It's much easier just to conduct a superficial analysis of the situation ("our average scores have dropped") and then make a superficial conclusion ("somebody must be doing something wrong").
4) Superficial conclusions lead to superficial solutions. The district in which I teach seems to have a different silver bullet each year for fixing our many problems. However, one silver bullet that has stuck around is a district-wide intranet called RIO. RIO contains unit plans, pacing guides, and a smattering of lesson plans that all teachers in the district are supposed to utilize in order to make student learning more uniform from school to school. This, in turn, is supposed to help students learn better and, of course, raise test scores. It makes sense then, that after the principal asked my friend what the problem was in physics, he followed that question up with, "Have you been using RIO?"
What's funny about that question, and about the district's almost fanatical emphasis on RIO as the solution to all of our problems, is the fact that there is no evidence that I'm aware of that can show that RIO is an effective means to improve student achievement. Sure it cost lots of money...sure it involves technology...sure it sounds sexy...but has it been shown to increase student learning? There is no data to suggest that the lesson plans on RIO are any more effective than other lesson plans teachers have been using. There is no data to suggest that the pacing guide on RIO is any more effective than other pacing guides teachers have used. In fact, if our district's academic performance is any indication, RIO's early returns look pretty bad. Last year was the first full year that RIO had been implemented and the district's test scores last year--both Composite and Growth Scores--were at an all-time low. Furthermore, when my friend was leading the district in both Composite Scores and Growth Scores over the past five years, RIO didn't even exist!
It seems that when it comes to education, people want simple solutions such as "Every teacher must do X to improve test scores." These superficial solutions--some of which can be quite expensive--can sound really good, but if they are based on superficial conclusions, which are based on superficial analyses, then we're really not making much progress.
On the first benchmark test of this year, my friend's physics students scored below the district average. The principal's response to this development was to ask my friend, "What's the problem in physics?" My friend reacted with indignation to this comment by the principal. Why did such a seemingly innocent question catalyze such a strong reaction from my friend? I think that unpacking this situation will reveal much about the dynamics within my school; further, I believe this situation is emblematic of some larger, common problems that occur vis-a-vis public schools in the Testing Era.
1) If poor student test scores can be grounds for teacher critique, good test scores should be used for encouragement. At no time during the past seven years of teaching in a high-stakes accountability environment has my friend received affirmation from the principal for his consistently outstanding test scores. One can't have it both ways: either the test scores are meaningful (both positive and negative) and say something about the job the teacher is doing, or they are useless and don't warrant a response. It is demoralizing for teachers when administrators are silent about high test scores but jump on a teachers for low test scores.
2) Superficial conclusions will infuriate teachers. The question that the principal posed to my friend was really a conclusion: that there must be a problem in physics this year and that it must be simple enough to be explained right then and there, in a sound-bite. This occurred in the school's main office, where my friend had gone to drop off a form. The bell to signal the beginning of the next class period was set to ring momentarily. The question the principal asked does not have a simple answer. As such, it doesn't warrant the simplistic, 5-minute sound-bite answer ("I forgot to teach the unit on mechanics," "I neglected to tell the kids that g=9.8 m/s/s," "I told the students that they could use ballpoint pen to bubble in the answer form on the benchmark") that he must have been expecting. Hamstrung, there was really no way my friend could respond in that context, in the busy main office of the school, in the middle of the day, 5 minutes before 24 students would be pounding on his classroom door to be let in. The person asking that question needed to be willing to work a little harder to hear a legitimate--rather than a simplistic--analysis of the state of his physics classes this year. Absent that, a little righteous indignation on the part of the teacher is perhaps understandable.
3) Superficial conclusions are based on superficial analyses. The test scores in question were the average percent correct for my friend's physics students on that benchmark test compared to that of the rest of the district. Hypothetically, let's say my friend's students had averaged 80% correct on the test while the rest of the district averaged 87% correct. That doesn't look too good. But what if his students were not especially high achieving students? Then is getting 80% correct really so bad? What if the average math PSAT score of the other physics students in the district was 650, while the average math PSAT score of my friend's students was 575. Now those scores are actually beginning to look a little better. The problem with comparing average scores of different cohorts of students without controlling for any other variables is that it can only lead to superficial conclusions such as the one proffered by the principal.
In North Carolina there are two sets of test scores that are relevant for different reasons. The first set of relevant scores are basically the percentage of items that students get correct on a given test--these are called Composite Scores. This is the set of scores that gets published in local newspapers, that gets on school websites, and that most of the general public (and sadly probably many educators) thinks is the only data that matters. However, there is another data set in calculated in North Carolina that is perhaps more important. This second set of data is student Growth Scores. For each test given in North Carolina, the state Department of Public Instruction has devised a formula that, given a student's past performance on other relevant tests, predicts their performance on the current test. If a student performs as predicted, he has Met Growth. If the student scores far enough below the predicted score, he has No Growth. If the student scores far enough above the predicted score, the he may achieve High Growth. In North Carolina, schools are awarded bonuses based on how many of their students meet the various levels of Growth. I would argue--assuming that the prediction formula is legitimate (which is a whole 'nother kettle of fish)--that Growth Scores are more powerful indicators of how the teachers and students are doing than are the Composite Scores. If a student who is predicted to score a 75 instead scores an 87, the teacher might be doing something really well. If a student who is predicted to get a 95 instead scores 73, then there might be a problem. Sadly, growth scores are not published in the newspaper, on school websites, and in my experience are even difficult to get my hands on as a teacher. I have yet to see individual growth scores for any of my students, yet it would be quite helpful for me to know which students are learning more than predicted and which are learning less than predicted. The fact that I just had to write a paragraph explaining what Growth Scores are is probably the reason why, despite their usefulness, these scores are not utilized for the benefit of increased student achievement: these scores require more than a superficial understanding to interpret them.
It also turns out that AP Biology has become wildly popular at my school. This is the result of it being taught by a wonderful teacher and the fact that the class takes an annual trip to an exotic, tropical location each spring break. As a consequence of this, many high-performing juniors are enrolling in AP Biology in lieu of physics. Since only 3 years of science are required for graduation, and because my school is an arts magnet school, many of these students stop taking science after AP Biology. This swell in AP Biology enrollment is causing fewer high-achieving students to take physics and it seems reasonable this trend could cause average physics scores--BUT NOT NECESSARILY GROWTH SCORES--to drop.
In fact, my friend the physics teacher has led the district and my school in Growth Scores over the past five years. Because of the growth scores of his students in physics and physical science, he is almost single-handedly responsible for my school receiving bonus money for each of the past five years. And the students he currently teaches, those same students who scored below the district average on the benchmark test, may very well receive high growth scores on the EOCs at the end of the year because those scores take into account that his students are not necessarily the same as the other physics students around the district. So the question of "what's the problem in physics" should probably become "is there a problem in physics?" I guess we'll have to wait and see.
But does anyone (policy makers, administrators, the general public) really want to take the time to look this deeply at the issues? It's much easier just to conduct a superficial analysis of the situation ("our average scores have dropped") and then make a superficial conclusion ("somebody must be doing something wrong").
4) Superficial conclusions lead to superficial solutions. The district in which I teach seems to have a different silver bullet each year for fixing our many problems. However, one silver bullet that has stuck around is a district-wide intranet called RIO. RIO contains unit plans, pacing guides, and a smattering of lesson plans that all teachers in the district are supposed to utilize in order to make student learning more uniform from school to school. This, in turn, is supposed to help students learn better and, of course, raise test scores. It makes sense then, that after the principal asked my friend what the problem was in physics, he followed that question up with, "Have you been using RIO?"
What's funny about that question, and about the district's almost fanatical emphasis on RIO as the solution to all of our problems, is the fact that there is no evidence that I'm aware of that can show that RIO is an effective means to improve student achievement. Sure it cost lots of money...sure it involves technology...sure it sounds sexy...but has it been shown to increase student learning? There is no data to suggest that the lesson plans on RIO are any more effective than other lesson plans teachers have been using. There is no data to suggest that the pacing guide on RIO is any more effective than other pacing guides teachers have used. In fact, if our district's academic performance is any indication, RIO's early returns look pretty bad. Last year was the first full year that RIO had been implemented and the district's test scores last year--both Composite and Growth Scores--were at an all-time low. Furthermore, when my friend was leading the district in both Composite Scores and Growth Scores over the past five years, RIO didn't even exist!
It seems that when it comes to education, people want simple solutions such as "Every teacher must do X to improve test scores." These superficial solutions--some of which can be quite expensive--can sound really good, but if they are based on superficial conclusions, which are based on superficial analyses, then we're really not making much progress.
Tuesday, January 9, 2007
Revenge of the Bulletin Boards
Today our department received word from our principal that we are responsible for decorating the bulletin boards in our hallway in order to prevent the currently blank boards from having more graffiti written on them. We have been directed that we have until January 23rd to decorate these bulletin boards. Furthermore, the assistant principal in our building will be "checking the progress."
I, for one, am unclear as to why hallway decor is a teacher-responsibility. In this day when teachers are held accountable for student achievement (and perhaps rightly so), I find it a bit ironic that teachers can focus our time and energy on decorating bulletin boards, while an assistant principal who faces virtually no accountability for student achievement can "check our progress."
The even greater irony is the same day that I received this directive to decorate bulletin boards in the hallway, I participated in a "fireside chat" with Mary Easley, the First Lady of North Carolina, who extolled the importance of teachers today: You are what enables North Carolina to stay competitive in the global economy, she said.
North Carolina: Equipping students for the global marketplace one bulletin board at a time.
I, for one, am unclear as to why hallway decor is a teacher-responsibility. In this day when teachers are held accountable for student achievement (and perhaps rightly so), I find it a bit ironic that teachers can focus our time and energy on decorating bulletin boards, while an assistant principal who faces virtually no accountability for student achievement can "check our progress."
The even greater irony is the same day that I received this directive to decorate bulletin boards in the hallway, I participated in a "fireside chat" with Mary Easley, the First Lady of North Carolina, who extolled the importance of teachers today: You are what enables North Carolina to stay competitive in the global economy, she said.
North Carolina: Equipping students for the global marketplace one bulletin board at a time.
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