School Cannot Be A Chick-fil-A

Last week it happened again. Over on Elon's Bot Emporium, a live human made this observation:

I was thinking this morning that education could learn some valuable lessons from Chick-fil-A (stay with me here). They are unapologetic about their systems for running a restaurant, preparing food, and serving customers. Anyone who wants to be part of the Chick-fil-A team has to (pretty strictly) adhere to their standards, whether they prefer to do it that way or not. 

What this means is that people can go into any Chick-fil-A restaurant and expect the same quality, cleanliness, and customer service. It’s rare to find an exception. 

Franchise owners, managers, and the other employees aren’t left to wonder how to do their jobs. It’s specifically laid out for them and they are given ample training to fully understand before they’re let loose on their own.

The author, a woman who describes herself as "the mother of four, educator, and advocate for all children," blogs about education, and occasionally posts things I agree with was making an understandable call for more order and systematic approach to schooling. And lord knows I can sympathize with someone who makes an analogy that doesn't quite hold up. But this idea, versions of which keep turning up over and over again, does not hold up.

So what could education learn from Chick-fil-A? To be more efficiently standardized? 

But how does that work, exactly. In the Chick-fil-A model, where are the students? Are they the customers? If so, how do we come up with an education menu that offers a very limited one-size-fits-all set of selections that customers can either take or leave. If a student/customer has special dietary needs that the limited Chick-fil-education menu does not serve, what is that student supposed to do? I mean, I suppose we could say that the student/customer has to go to a different restaurant, but then the whole standardization thing goes right out the window. 

Or maybe in this model the students are analogous to the chicken being served, in which case they would be the result of a process that throws out any pieces of chicken/students that don't meet the standards of Chick-fil-education. Chick-fil-A gets to decide which pieces of food it is going to cook and serve, and the rest goes to the curb. 

And since we're using Chick-fil-A, I have to also point out that they have decided when to offer their services, and customers can take it or leave it. As with everything else about this highly standardized operation, customers do not get to assert a parental right to have the company do what they want it to do.

Look, I totally get the desire for a certain amount of standardization in education. That teacher who ignores the district's scope and sequence and just kind of goes where the wind takes her-- nobody is more annoyed by her than the teacher who gets those same students the following year. I never needed us all to be on exactly the same page, but it sure helps if we can all act like we're on the same team.

But Chick-fil-A is a terrible analogy. The restaurant fails as an analog for education because A) it does not have to serve all customers and B) it can pick and choose what materials it works with. Chick-fil-A can standardize all of its outputs and methods because it can also standardize all its inputs. And only when you standardize all the inputs can you say "If all of our workers do X, then the result will always be Y."

That does not work in education, because "If all teachers do Y, then all students will learn X" is always false. It is always false because students are humans, and humans are not standardized. This does not mean that there are not some approaches that work better or more often than others, nor does it mean there are not some approaches that are almost always a bad idea. 

But the kind of neat standardization represented by Chick-fil-A (or McDonalds or an industrial assembly line) does not map onto schools because schools deal with actual human beings, and students are not products.

This kind of industrial business thinking is a regular issue in some sectors. One of the first posts I ever wrote was in response to a sentence from Allan Golston, Gates Foundation big wig who was, at the time, pushing the Common Core. In a piece entitled "America's Businesses Need The Common Core" he wrote

Businesses are the primary consumers of the output of our schools, so it’s a natural alliance.

Double yikes. Students are not "output" and they are definitely not meant to be consumed. But just a couple years later, a special report in Fortune included this choice quote from Rex Tillerson, who was at the time an Exxon big wig:

“I’m not sure public schools understand that we’re their customer—that we, the business community, are your customer,” said Tillerson during the panel discussion. “What they don’t understand is they are producing a product at the end of that high school graduation.”

Again, yikes. 

Schools are not industrial producers of meat widgets. They are not fast food chains. They are not performing a highly standardizable task that can be deskilled to the point that any shmoe can be quickly and effectively trained to perform their task without deviation. And all of this is true because A) students are not products and B) the "customers" are not just their parents or their future employers but every single person who will ever cross paths with them directly or indirectly, which is why we have such a hard time deciding exactly what outputs we really want.

Once again, I will argue till death that some guardrails and some standards are absolutely necessary for schools and teachers and students, but the perfect one-size-fits-all standardization that some folks dream of, the kind of standardization that makes Chick-fill-A successful for the part of the population that chooses to eat there-- that kind of rigid standardization will not work for education because we are dealing with human beings and not slices of breaded chicken and chopped up potatoes. 

Kindergarten Readiness Is In Trouble

The US General Accounting Office has a new study declaring that fewer than half of students were actually ready for kindergarten-- which is just one way of looking at the data.

For their report, the GAO reviewed 11 studies that looked at kindergarten readiness; the GAO also looked at kindergarten readiness in five states as measured by the states' kindergarten entry assessment (KEA). The five states were Connecticut, Florida, Kentucky, Maryland, and Ohio.

Some of what they found was unsurprising. Publicly funded preschool enrollment "positively affected students’ kindergarten readiness in literacy, math, or both." Also, the highest rates of kindergarten readiness were found in "students who were Asian, White, or not economically disadvantaged." Districts with lower poverty rates have higher rates pf kindergarten readiness in four of the five states. Zero surprises here.

The marquee finding in the report is that the majority of kindergarten students were not ready for kindergarten, as measured by the states' KEA. 

The states cannot really be compared to each other because each has its own KEA. But each shows a range of students with a median percentage of kindergarten-ready students that falls below 50%. The reports breaks some of that readiness down into categories (again, varying by state), but it still doesn't look good.

The conclusion is alarming-- most of the littles aren't ready for kindergarten.

But wait a minute.

If I'm teaching and a test comes back with a greater than 50% failure rate, I have a couple of choices for explanations:

A) I didn't do my teaching job very well

B) The test isn't a very good test

C) I gave the test before the students were ready to take it, and whose fault is that, exactly

Every time one someone starts chicken littling about kindergarten students not being ready, I flash back to talk I saw education expert Yong Zhao give at the Network for Public Education convention in 2015, during which he pointed out that we should not ask if the five year old is ready for school, but instead ask if school is ready for the five year olds.

The average, median five year old does not meet your standards for height, then your standards are wrong. If the average, median five year old does not meet your standards for kindergarten readiness, then your standards for kindergarten readiness are wrong. They are misaligned. Or maybe they're  aligned only for littles from a particular demographic. Maybe you're still stuck in that Common Core induced push-down of standards where kindergarten is the new first grade and infancy is new preschool and fetuses should be learning their letters and numbers in utero. 

If the majority of littles in your state are not "ready," then that is on you-- not them, not their parents. It is the institution's job to be ready for the children, not vice versa. You can say that you wish five year olds knew basic algebra and wrote in complete paragraphs, but they are who they are, and you have to take them as they are.

So yeah-- the results of this study show that somebody is not ready for these children tp enter kindergarten. But it's not the children.

Cyberselfish: A Prescient Look At The World of Tech

Paulina Borsook was a journalist covering Northern California tech culture since the 1980s. In 2000, she produced Cyberselfish, a sharply written critique of that culture, a book that has this year been reprinted and wow, what a piece of work, because Borsook was way, way ahead of her time.

Borsook tears into a culture that is hugely libertarian and male and marked by characteristics that will seem familiar to current readers.

She writes about a culture of technolibertarians who are wildly self-important, convinced that they are doing super-important work and therefor should be A) revered by the common herd that is so beneath them and B) unhampered by any sort of regulation and restriction. She writes that 

the myth of the solo entrepreneur is embedded deep in the Silicon Valley psyche, a myth only partially grounded in reality. And like many myths, this one ignores the larger culture it springs from. The (male) alone-on-his-search-to-earn-his-manhood isn't exactly how it really works.

This culture comes with many less-than-awesome features, like "high tech's curious nyah-nyah-nyah-I've-got-mine-so-screw-you orientation to the world." That and a belief that "the market will prevail" and so regulations are neither necessary nor desirable.

So much of this is recognizable from the world of early-21st-century ed reform-- a school should be run by a visionary CEO who is unhampered by rules and regulations (unnecessary because the market will decide whether he has succeeded or not). 

There is of course also a faith in computers themselves. At one point, Borsook points out that because computers change so quickly, and white and blue work uses computers, therefor those jobs must also change quickly and the enterprises and industries they are part of must also change. (See also: every reformster argument that education has to change radically Right Now.) She also connects this to a techno "joy of obsolescence."

Borsook also describes how these technotitans feel put upon and victimized, demanding freedom from any sort of intervention as well as a less-explicit insistence that folks recognize that these tech overlords really ought to be revered and in charge. So powerful, and yet so brittle.

But why is this group, so privileged, so poised for flight in any direction-- to get a well-compensated job, to hire top-drawer lawyers, to live in horse country or exurbia away from urban unrest, to shelter assets, to flee-- so flipped about the possibility of being messed with?

She writes about techno philanthropy's discomfort with "squishy stuff and the intangibles that can't be reduced to formulae or program,' and its disinterest in the care of people "who do not represent problems to be solved." 

Techno dollars do, she notes, go to K-12 education. The cynical motivation, she notes, would be the idea that "you gotta catch 'em/brainwash them when they're young-- or they won't be good workers in their cubicles, won't be good purchasers of your latest rev (that is, version of software), won't have formed the strong brand loyalty you want them to have." These tech folks also imagined knowledge as simple retrieval of data.

They had other education ideas, too. Kim Polese, a then-CEO of software company Marimba, proposed at an Al Gore-hosted confab, a piece of vaporware called Dashboard. Dashboard would allow parents to log on to their tv to get the latest stats on their child's performance and even send notes to the teacher. That particular program did not materialize, but the general concept has certainly done well since.

At times it's stunning what Borsook spotted in the late 1990s. She reports a 1994 presentation that presaged AI agents and tech overlords who envisioned a "happy land of a world serviced by agents and amused by content freed from dependency on" other human's ideas, a land of "a land of individuals isolated from the need for contact with other human beings and, relievedly, no longer reliant upon them."

Anachronisms crop up at times. She mentions Sports Illustrated as a publication "thriving" when cut loose from its parent corporation. Yahoo is a new startup. And social media is nowhere in sight.

I've just scratched the surface here. The book provides a clear and sharply observed of tech overlord culture that is in many ways sharper and clearer than most observers right now. It's a worthwhile read and really brings into focus some of the culture and attitudes that we are dealing with right now (and her writing brings lots of bright-edged sass). I recommend grabbing a copy. I'll leave you with this clip from her closing argument.

I don't believe that a culture that presents itself as being the One True Way of the future, but which in so many ways embodies the worst of the past-- where human values and, ultimately, people, count for less than machines-- is one that is cause for rejoicing.

IN: A Tale of Charter Fraud.

At one point, Indiana Virtual School and Indiana Virtual Pathways Academy were two of the largest cyber-charters in Indiana. But that turns out to have been part of a huge case of fraud, and almost a decade after the original fleecing of Indiana taxpayers, some of the fraudsters running the operation are facing jail time.

Phillip Holden, Thomas Stoughton, Percy Clark and Christopher King managed to steal almost $45 million from taxpayers. 

The schools, founded in 2011, were going great guns by 2016, but a Chalkbeat story by Shaina Cavazos  in 2017 showed some of the cracks in the school's supposed success. For one thing, the school only had one teacher for every 222 teachers. It only graduated 61 out of 900 seniors. And while it was raking in the money, Cavazos found that only 10% of the state funds hoovered up by the school were going toward instruction (a massive difference from other cyber-charters in the state). The other almost-90 percent was going to "support services," including firms that were owned and run by people who were also running IVS.

Indiana Virtual School was, in fact, a textbook case of self-dealing for fun and profit. The state handed millions to the school, then the school's leaders handed millions to companies that they themselves owned. Thomas Stoughton was founder of the school, and he hired AlphaCom Inc., another company he founded and owned. Cavazos also found that IVS hired a company owned by Stoughton's son.

Also, in 2017, after IVS received an F from the state, they then created IVPA to avoid losing their charter.

In 2019, Daleville Community Schools, the virtual schools' oversight board, revoked its charter. The board of directors quit, and the cyber-charters were shut down even as the US Attorney's office issued a subpoena to collect evidence about the schools.

The schools were in big trouble because, not satisfied with the self-dealing scheme they were already running, the four individuals named above had also cooked up a scheme to boost the schools' enrollment with students not actually attending the school. The investigation and court cases focused on 2016-2018, but it seems unlikely that those were the only years fraud went on.

The prosecutors of the case found that thousands of students never logged in or were re-enrolled after they had left the school. The school did not, as law requires, unenroll students who never show up. They went ahead and enrolled students who had never finished their applications to the school. The court found that the school enrolled at least one student after he had died. 

The four enrolled these non-attending students, collected taxpayer dollars from the state, handed those dollars off to the sweetheart subcontractors, and pocketed the money. Federal charges followed.

Clark, Stoughton, and King pled guilty to conspiracy to commit wire fraud. Holden was convicted of wire fraud and conspiracy to commit same just last week; his lawyer has called Holden a fall guy who didn't make any money from the scheme. Clark appears to have scored a measly $1.3 million. They are all supposed to be paying the money back; I hope nobody's holding their breath waiting for that to happen.

A few lessons from this not-unusual tale of charter fraud and malfeasance.

One, magical free market forces did not take care of this. In fact, the state of Indiana did not take care of this. It took a combination of journalism and federal investigators to shut this down. Keep that in mind the next time a charter fan is explaining that too much regulation and oversight will stifle the awesome innovative powers of charter entrepreneurs. 

Two, it took a decade to bring some justice to this situation. A decade! Some of the students who were enrolled in this scam are now nearly thirty years old. 

Three, the free market did not take care of this. Yes, I said that already, but it is worth saying at least twice. School choice without any regulation or oversight is simply an invitation to fraud and abuse, and there will always be folks willing to accept that invitation. Students and taxpayers deserve some protection from these guys, not a belated attempt at sort-of-justice.

My District Finds a New Use for AI

I want to hope that my local school district is the only district that has landed on this bad idea, but it probably isn't. So we'd better talk about it.

The big focus on a recent meeting was the teacher contract negotiations, so even the newspaper missed one feature of the 2.5 hour meeting until later, when the reporter circled back to the part of the meeting where the board checked out the annual year in review report as well as goals for the current year. Then comes this sentence. 

Both presentations were compiled and read by artificial intelligence.

I had also missed this. I am not able to attend meetings on Mondays, so I check out the video record, but I had honestly noped out on this one before the report appeared.  

It is spectacularly absurd. The AI opens with "I am so excited to be guiding you through this tonight" in a pleasant female voice. Of course, the AI is not "excited" in any sense of the word, but companies understand that AI is easier to market if you build it to mimic human behavior. The presentation includes lots of imitation human presenter tweaks. Starting a new section-- "Let's get into it" as if the AI and the humans in the room are a "we". On attendance-- "because, let's face it, you can't teach a student who isn't sitting in the classroom." 

And there are attempts to imitate an emotional affect as well. On the improvement in attendance-- "the sheer scope of the improvement here is absolutely incredible," says the computer program that is incapable of believing anything. "You've got to see what happened at [one other school]. This is a real game-changer." The AI is really mimicking an engaged human presenter who has an actual presence or investment in the district. Introducing another section-- "I want you to just take a second and absorb this." The AI is of course incapable of wanting anything, and if I were a board member I would bristle at the notion of doing what a program "wants" me to do. 

The AI also mimics human tone of voice with lots of heartfelt emphasis on various portions, and salting it with little touches like "kind of" and extra modifiers. 

The strategic goals for 2026-27 were also presented by AI, but for whatever reason, that AI was a male voice that says, among other things, "As your administrative leadership team, we know it is our absolute duty..." and I am wondering which position on the team the AI is filling. It also closes with "I want to leave you with this..." even though there is no "I' and it does not "want." But generally this AI does not have its human mimicry turned quite so far as the first. Still, why is it here at all?

Why? Why? Why? Why is this report not being presented by the administration? I emailed the board members and superintendent and received no response (and to be fair, they've got their hands full with a couple of other issues we won't get into here). 

You can argue that my objections are petty and nit-picky, that there's nothing wrong with using some automation to spice up what would be a boring parade of data. Why not have the reports read out in a personable and engaging manner? And afterwards district leaders can post the AI presentation straight to the website (which they have). Sure, you could do all of that with live humans, but if you can use AI to polish it up and save some trouble, why wouldn't you? What's the big deal?

Well, it's a big deal to me to know that the school district is being run by humans. Maybe I am just getting worked up over cosmetics, but I have some serious objections to this use of AI.                        

First, the AI doesn't get interrupted by questions for clarification. For example-- One of the goals that the district "achieved" was to improve the school climate as measured by referrals handled by the office. Those numbers went down, which can mean one of two things--1) the actual incidents of misbehavior decreased or 2) the reports of such incidents decreased. Place your bets on which is more likely. It's a point that ought to be discussed, but there is no interrupting the AI. There were a couple of questions after the presentation, but nothing got into the meat of the presentation. 

AI, like any canned presentation, offers no opportunity for discussion, question, or dialogue.

Second, it puts some distance between the administration and at least one really questionable choice. After making noise about the drops in math scores, the AI gets to the "solution." 

But listen, the district isn't just sitting still with this data. Looking ahead to the upcoming 2026-2027 school year, they are rolling out a revised schedule that includes a double period block of math instruction for all students in grades six through eight. 

This, extrudes the AI, is "a bold move to tackle the data." It is not. It is an old idea that was widely tried earlier in this century and which failed. Not only did it fail, but the AI fails to discuss what portion of the students' education will be cut in order to give them double math (nor does it mention any hiring of additional math teachers to handle the doubled load). We've seen this movie before-- students lose history, science, arts, music, study halls, other enrichment opportunities for an initiative that barely moves the needle if at all. In fact, this exact idea was attempted in this very same district years ago. It did way more harm than good.

But you will notice that nobody in administration has to own this bad idea. "The district" in the form of an unspecified "they" is rolling this out. No administrator stood up to make a case for this. 

AI is like the ultimate passive voice. "This thing just happened!" 

Third, this is a lousy example to set for students. One of the major challenges of classroom teachers right now is convincing young humans that it's a bad idea to use AI as a shortcut for getting their work done. And here are the leaders of the school district, using AI as a shortcut for getting their work done (and to any teachers who are also doing it, you knock it off, too). This is not AI being used to extend or augment human capabilities; it's just AI used to outsource the work that humans are perfectly capable of doing. How would you explain to a student that what the administration did was somehow different from having AI write your science or English paper?

I don't imagine for a second that my district is unique; I expect that some AI company has identified school administration as a market for this sort of cognitive outsourcing. It's easy to let it go because it can seem like a small thing, but if a school district is going to prioritize human beings and human relationships, then that priority should be expressed throughout the district's actions. At the very least, if you are going to use AI, use it transparently and honesty and don't cloak it with mimicry that let's it suggest human attributes that it absolutely does not have. So I'm going to go ahead and shake my aged fist at this particular cloud and encourage my district (and yours) to do better. 

Teacher Autonomy and Fads

Let me bring up the same old argument, and then let me completely sidestep it for another critical solution.

This morning I ran into another discussion of why American teachers get wrapped up in so many fads and why aren't they better grounded in scientific learning principles. There is always some blame directed at the US fetishization of teacher autonomy, and the counter-argument is that teacher autonomy is needed, at a minimum, to allow teachers to resist being forced to implement the latest fad that some administrator decided is a must-do.

There are many long, complicated responses to this debate that I could unleash (and I have), not the least of which is that great truth about teaching-- you need a balance of whatever you're talking about. Teachers need flexibility and a certain amount of autonomy, but they also need guardrails and direction.

But never mind that (for the moment). Let me suggest one other huge change that would help.

Teachers should be in charge of the teaching profession.

Look at the medical world. If I want to start a program to educate new members of a medical profession, I have to get that program certified by a board composed by members of that profession. Graduates who want to enter the profession have to clear certification from groups composed of members of that profession. At every step, for every gate that is kept, the gatekeeper is someone from that profession.

But teaching? If I want to start a K12 teacher prep program, all I have to do is convince some bureaucrats. And I can staff that teacher prep program with people who haven't seen the inside of a K12 classroom in decades, or even ever. My professional certification depends on testing created by people who are not actual teachers. 

At every gate, the gatekeepers are people who are not teachers. Research, published teaching materials, curricular programs, government oversight-- we just accept as a normal part of the profession that absolutely everything outside the classroom is under the control of people who are not actually teachers. We even figured out a way to make the problem worse-- run Teach for America products through a classroom for two years so that we could elevate people who aren't teachers but pretend to be teachers (even though they never even intended to be teachers) can sit in positions of power over the profession. And as a cherry on top, we get plenty of voices denigrating teacher expertise or dismissing teacher concerns as just "putting the concerns of adults over those of children" or just the noise of a special interest group.

If I think I've got a great new idea about how to conduct brain surgery, I have to convince an actual brain surgeon to try it, and if that surgeon thinks it's a good idea, they still have to convince other actual brains surgeons. If brain surgery were teaching, I could just convince some legislator that my idea is great and they should pass a law mandating my technique be used by all surgeons.

Hell, we can see how it would look as we currently have a wave of powerful amateurs harassing the medical profession and sneering at science. So fads, wacky notions, and ideas that "make sense" if you've got a thimbleful of medical wisdom in your brain. 

It's not going well for health care, but it's a normal day in education. With few education gatekeepers, every kind of fad can slide through, with classroom teachers left to sort through it all. Why do teachers value autonomy so much? Because they can't trust the wide array of people who want to tell them exactly, precisely how to do their jobs. 

None of this is meant to suggest that useful teacher partners can't come from unexpected places. Grown-ups transitioning from other fields. TFA products who choose to stay and really enter into the profession. Scholars and education professors and even thinky tank people who have thoughtfully studied the field and the profession. Some of these folks can turn out to serious allies in the work-- but it's up to the teacher to sort them out on her own. The networks that teachers build aren't just to help them figure out best practices, but to help them figure out who they can trust.

Dozens of various ideas about how to do the job, layered on top of the many stakeholders who also have their own priorities and preferences. Teachers want their arms and legs free to dance with and around the many partners and obstacles that come with the job.

Not every teacher is going to make the best use of autonomy, just as some teachers become too attached to ineffective instructional ideas. And nobody tells you that this is going to be part of the job, that you may have to rebel against your administration or your government or your old college teachers, that you may have to figure it out on your own.

Is it possible to create a professional ecosystem, a gaggle of gatekeepers who filter out fads? I don't know. I know that a website of "what works" curated by non-teachers is not useful. I know that professional groups that exist outside the school walls and so must simultaneously try to catch the ears of both other teachers and policymakers offer only a little help. And yes, there are teachers who really revel and joy in the vast unfiltered system. 

But if your question is "Why so many fads" or "Why don't good practices get more traction" or "Why do teachers care so much about autonomy," the questions share part of an answer-- the education space is a big pool with a hundred different unfiltered hoses pouring into it, leaving classroom teachers to try to swim around and exercise their professional judgement about who or what to hold onto. 

ICYMI: Blue Wave Edition (11/8)

Honestly, I didn't believe it was going to happen, but here we are. Now let's see what it means for education. In the meantime, there's plenty to read this week.

EdChoice is Over

Stephen Dyer explains why Ohio's big fat voucher program, already ruled unconstitutional in lower courts, is likely to be in big trouble now.

Anger over GOP education agenda helped fuel Democratic sweeps in Texas, advocates say

NBC news notices one of the major issues in Texas was the GOP's education plans. Give a shout to Jennifer Berkshire, who has been saying this all along.

Supreme Court Leaning Yes on Publicly Financed Discrimination Against 4-Year-Olds

I've been covering this story over at Forbes.com and I suspect people aren't paying nearly enough attention to this case which could decide that not only should taxpayers fund religious schools, but those schools should be exempt from anti-discrimination laws. Madiba Dennie sums up the day of oral arguments, and it's not looking great.

The Catholic Church Has Taken “Do Unto Others” in the Wrong Direction

Education Adam Laats provides some historical perspective to the case. 

Dear American Parent: You’re Welcome!

Jen Jennings, in the New York Times, with a fairly awesome Alexandra Petri-esque take of life for parents under school voucher "freedom."

Should You Outsource Your Child’s Birthday Party to AI?

John Warner's take on that disastrously clueless Marissa Mayer interview. Should you use AI to do the hard, hard work of humaning? Maybe not?

In Conversation: Sold A Story Season 2 (Ep. 5)

You know how sometimes you don't really want to watch a movie, but you watch the "Everything Wrong With..." so you have an idea of what was going on (and why you are wise not to watch the actual thing)? That's kind of where I am with Sold A Story. Trevor Aleo and Nick Covington continue their conversations in response to the latest episode.

Lessons of Last Resort

You can also podcast your way to a better understanding of Direct Instruction with Jennifer Berkshire and Jack Schneider, who cover it over at Have You Heard.

One Problem With Sold a Story 2: Disregarding Discovery Learning and Child Development

Nancy Bailey takes a look at Direct Instruction and what it overlooks.

Parents Sue Google Over A.I. Safety Risks on School Chromebooks

Another lawsuit over an AI-linked suicide plan. Natasha Singer covers it for the New York Times.

A Letter to Governor Hinojosa: Fixing Texas School Finance

Bruce Baker continues to be on a tear. This time the school finance expert offers advice to the new Texas governor on what to fix about school financing.

The Blackboard Way of Knowledge

Audrey Watters shares a talk she recently delivered-- and it's not about AI, exactly:

Indeed, for all the handwringing about the cognitive dependencies that “AI” might elicit -- now or in the future -- I'd argue that education has already acquiesced an incredible amount of intellectual and pedagogical and operational and political ground to technologies that have cultivated precisely that: a dependency.

A quaint tale of the destruction of Florida’s public schools & what you can do about it

Maybe you don't think of turning to Bruce Baker for witty and whimsical Seussian fables of education, but here it is. "The Whittler" explains how Florida raced to the bottom.

What the Blue Blowout Means for Federal Education

Rick Hess shows what the blue wave might mean from the reformster side of education.

Washington Loves Baby Photo Ops, but Its Budget Tells Another Story

Bruce Lesley takes a look at how little money DC puts where its mouth noises about The Children issue forth.

Blue Wave and Education Reform: Texas Edition

The privatization crowd is sad that Texas "ambitious ed reform" laboratory could take a hit. Paul Thomas brings the data to show that Texas wasn't doing all that well. 

How Will Tuesday’s Midterm Election Shape Public Education Policy?

Jan Resseger takes us through some of the post-election commentary about whatever is going to happen next.

NYC Parent Accuses Son’s Elementary And Middle Schools Of Negligent Grade Inflation — But The Data Suggests Otherwise

Gary Rubinstein has been seeing that NY Post story about the mom complaining that her son can't do math despite his good grades. Gary has his doubts, so he looks at some numbers.

Questions to ask your principals and School Leadership Teams about privacy, AI, ed tech use and screens

This post from Class Size Matters may be intended for NYC families, but it fits anywhere. Great questions to ask your administration the next time they're launching the Next Big Tech Thing

3 Habits Students Can Develop to Find Credible Online Resources

You've probably heard these before, but they're worth revisiting with students. Or at least the students who are looking past the AI summary at the top of their results. Michael Yell at Edutopia.

EIGHTH REPORT: You Can’t See Everything at Alpha

Ben Riley is still cranking out reports on Alpha Schools; this one looks at the organization chart. Who's really in charge of what?

I’m Shocked, Shocked! A Reformed Lobbyist on Whisper Campaigns

Fascinating look at how our tech overlords manage campaigns against their critics (e.g. Jonathan Haidt)

At Forbes.com, I looked at that Supreme Court case threatening yet more bricks in the church state wall. 

I know this seems like it must be a joke, but trust me-- after a minute or two you are going to forget you're listening a bunch of harmonicas. And I do love Rhapsody in Blue.

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