The Local Control Song

Okay, I got around to this a few days late, but I suppose this isn't really an April Fools item. The folks at the National Education Policy Center have recorded a satirical song for our current moment, setting current United States Education Department policy to music. And they've done it without AI. 

Listen, and share with a friend

Behind Fad-Prone Education

Robert Pondiscio posted a question-- "Why Is Education So Damn Fad-Prone?"-- that everyone who has taught for more than two years has often asked. The fad-addiction of education is exactly why every announcement of The Next Miracle Cure is met by a bunch of teachers shaking their heads, rolling their eyes, and closing their doors. 

"But this time is different!" proclaim the progenitors of every new big idea, just before they start bitching about how "the education establishment" or "the blob" or "special interests" are too resistant to their brilliant transformational idea. Lordy, Arne Duncan is still out there trying to explain how his reformy ideas were awesome and totally should have worked but the establishment just didn't try hard enmough. Spoiler alert: This Time is never different. And Pondiscio notes that it is actually teachers who keep education somewhat fad-resistant:

Why is education so damn fad-prone?

The easy answer is also the most insulting—that educators are uniquely susceptible to trends, quick to abandon what works, and too eager to embrace whatever comes next. But that answer is wrong. Classroom teachers are typically the least enthusiastic participants in these cycles, having learned through experience how quickly today’s “transformational” idea becomes tomorrow’s abandoned initiative.

He points to four structural reasons that contribute to recurring fad chasing, and they aren't a bad start to explaining the phenomenon.

Weak feedback loops. 

Pondiscio argues that "in most sectors, failure reveals itself quickly," and while I think there's room for debate there, I agree with him that in education the feedback signal is "low and noisy." There are so many variables-- student turnover and many factors outside the classroom mean that changes in outcomes are hard to attribute to any single factor. We should note that this limitation has not kept many reformsters from arguing that measuring outputs would allow us to identify teachers and methods that are effective. I would add to his list the lack of any good measure of outcomes (the Big Standardized Test is not such a measure). 

But mostly the feedback loop remains weak because it usually carefully and deliberately cuts actual classroom teachers out of the loop. Nobody is better positioned to see exactly how the hot new idea works on the ground than the people who are right there, and yet the teacher view is subject to benign neglect and at worst (as in the days of Common Core) treated as if teachers are the problem of education and not the expert ground troops. 

Publishers and other instructional materials manufacturers feed this dynamic because their target audience is usually not actual teachers, but administrators. Many instructional materials are bad because they were made to be sold, not to be used. And that means NEW! is better.

And when it comes to evidence-based choices, consider this rather grim finding from a recent meta-study which found that the rate at which education research precisely reproduces results of previous studies is-- zero.

In the absence of clear feedback loops, education is plagued with policy by assertion-- folks who just declare that Policy X or Instructional Strategy Z are excellent because it just feels true. And education has been plagued by decades of people insisting that American schools are failing, based on their insistence that it is so. Even when data is available, the loop can be disrupted by bias and political gamesmanship; just this week, Secretary Linda McMahon was one more Ed Secretary to misrepresent what "proficient" means on the NAEP.

Leadership legitimacy requires visible change.

Administrative churn is a blight. I have written before about resume bombs; a new administrator doesn't build a resume by keeping things running smoothly. No, if they want to call themselves "forward thinking change agents," they have to change something. Blow stuff up, start a new program, get that next job, then leave the district to pick up the pieces. "Implemented new widget education program" looks great on a resume, whether it actually works or not. 

Low barriers to new ideas.

"In fields like medicine or engineering, new approaches must pass through layers of validation before they reach widespread adoption. Education has far fewer guardrails." Ain't it the truth. In education, anybody with a few gazillion dollars in business success can decide that he's going to push a set of standards in an attempt to standardize the entire US education system to his preferences, and that won't even be the only time he tries to transform the system.  

And he's not the only one. So many Hot New Ideas have been pushed by folks whose education expertise is based on nothing except they went to school when they were young. Education is largely free of anyone to say, "You'll need to provide some evidence before we even let you in the door." If someone in education does try to resist, just cue more complaints about the establishment and the monopoly and putting adult concerns ahead of children's. It's not just that there are few barriers to faddish new ideas-- it's that many folks believe they have a right not to be met with any barriers to their ideas. 

Add forty-some years of politicizing of education, so that now political avenues are considered a legitimate way to pursue new instructional approaches. The reading wars have been going on for a long time, but No Child Left Behind sold the idea, now being pursued by Science of Reading fans, of using government to settle instructional debates. We're at a place where to be an education advocate or mover and shaker, it's more important to be good at politics than to be good at education.

Moral urgency.

The magical phrase "for the children" allows folks to wave away all objections to their cool new idea, along with its cousin "don't put adult concerns ahead of children's needs." Morla urgency is always part of education discussions, and rightly so. But it is suspicious that moral urgency is always used to ramp up speed rather than caution; it's always "the children can't wait another second" and not "we owe it to the children to make sure we get this right." Common Core had to be rammed through quickly because we couldn't wait a second to rescue children. These days, folks like to wave around the "terrible NAEP scores" as proof that schools had better buy the newest AI-powered edu-whizbang.

All four of these are real features of the education system. They render it vulnerable to fad-of-the-week ideas both on the macro and micro level, and these vulnerabilities have been exploited by everyone from corporate salespersons to well-meaning amateurs to reformsters of all stripes to privatizers who simply want to dismantle the whole thing. 

Pondiscio argues for slowing down and not throwing out functioning ideas to make room for this week's fad. "In short," he concludes, "we need to make competence visible."

That's a great thought. I'm just not sure how it happens. The folks who are looking to the edufad to bring them money and/or power are more invested in bolstering their own preferred fad than taking a look at whether it is successful or not. A whole wing of the reformster/privatizer world has worked hard to make incompetence visible, whether it exists or not (do not forget Chris Rufo telling his Hillsdale College audience, "To get universal school choice, you really need to operate from a place of universal public school distrust.") This is another way in which a free market approach to education is counter-productive. The free market does not foster superior quality; the free market fosters superior marketing. And marketing loves on asymmetric information in which the seller knows more about the product than the buyer.  

We could, I think, damp down the faddishness of education. There is nothing that tamps down faddishness like a level-headed district administration that eschews fads in favor of long-term investment in unexciting things that work, leavened with investment of time and attention in new things that are taken on thoughtfully and given time to prove themselves (or not). How we grow more of those high quality administrators has puzzled me for forty-some years. But more of these people would in turn affect what companies thought they could get away with selling. 

And if everyone-- edu-corporations, legislators, bureaucrats, thinky tank folks-- listened more to teachers, the whole loop, the whole education process process would work so much better. I'm not pretending that getting teachers into the loop would be easy. Out of a group of four million, you are going to find A) a non-zero number of oddball perspectives and B) a distinct lack of unanimity. On top of that, the teachers who could probably provide the most useful perspective may well be too busy to talk to you. But the current practice of locking teachers out of education discussions (unless they have been pre-screened to make sure they have agreeable opinions) is not helping education in this country avoid the latest in education hula hoops.

How Do We Get News to Students

We are two weeks into a new reality in my county-- the local newspaper now exists only as a website, which means a whole lot of folks now have a choice between going online to search out the news from one of two local digital outlets or just patching together whatever from wherever. Or just believe whatever the algorithm sends you on social media. 

So Nancy Flanagan's latest post hit hard ("I read the news today--Oh boy"). 

What do educators do when the students whose intellectual growth they are entrusted with believe things that are false and dangerous—because the influence of the internet has led them there? When the most important content and character-building discussions in school are suspect—or banned? Or when, God help us, the President’s “Special Advisor” suggests that we shouldn’t be teaching undocumented students at all?

What is our moral obligation to the kids we teach, when it comes to truth—and how they form their own opinions and civic engagement?

Truth. That is a tough one, because there is always a divide between those who believe in truth and those who believe in Truth. It shapes how a teacher works in the classroom.

I was in college when I finally realized that English teachers could be roughly divided into two groups. In one group, you have the teachers who believe that a certain work of literature has One True Meaning, and so their job is to impart and transmit that One True Meaning to students (then test them on whether they can repeat it back to you correctly). In the other group, we find teachers who believe that a certain work of literature has a range of possible interpretations, and so their job is to help students learn how to sift and support their way through all of those and present well-supported conclusions of their own.

I am solidly in that second group. It may be the musician in me. There's more than one way to play "Honeysuckle Rose," and there's more than one way to play Hamlet, and there's more than one way to understand The Awakening. This doesn't mean you can just pull any old version out of your butt without any visible support from the work. But I think of these "truths" as a kind of strange attractor, where the variety of answers cluster around particular points, not entirely random, but not locked into a single coordinate, either.

We have plenty of first group people in the education world. The whole classical education movement rests on the assumption that there is One Truth, that a bunch of dead white guys found it, and all we have to do is just keep reteaching it to the youngs. It can become confusing when One Truth folks talk about their love of critical thinking, but what they mean is not "thinking that wrestles with and evaluates a variety of facts and ideas to draw its own conclusions" but rather "thinking that leads to the One True Conclusion."

So education includes this tension between Truth and truth. It's particularly visible in history, where some folks insist it is "divisive" to try to talk about a variety of viewpoints and interpretations, where some folks want to assert that there is just one Truth. There isn't. History is not a string of facts. History is a conversation, an ongoing discussion about what happened, why it happened, what it means, how we understand it. 

News is, of course, just history that's happening right now, and we have a whole network of influencers and news-flavored baloney merchants trying to package it as One Truth immediately as it happens. And that bleeds into the classroom in a variety of ways.

None of this is entirely new. Hearst and Pulitzer and many smaller fish all made a bundle peddling manufactured baloney in newspapers. Even my own small town once upon a time had multiple newspapers--one for each political party's version of events. Students have always brought their own parents' beliefs to school with them. 

But the social media and the algorithm-fueled outrage machine has exacerbated the problem a hundredfold. We're starting to catch up. Meta and YouTube just lost a big social media addiction trial. Instagram and YouTube were found liable for damage to children. Backlash against screens in school is building. But we still have a long way to go. 

When it comes to knowledge of the world around them and what's happening in it, most students are an information vacuum just waiting to be filled, and there is too much garbage too readily available. Much of that garbage is designed to inflame rather than inform, which means that the consumers--particularly the young ones--are emotionally invested in those particular Truths

Schools can continue with "media literacy" and units about evaluating source material, but the actual content of the "news" has to be addressed as well, because it's very hard to make critical judgments when you don't know much about the topic. Civics and current events should be addressed, and students should be challenged regularly to cite their sources and back up their contentions. Teachers have to bite their tongues when the impulse is to simply refute or even ridicule the worst of the ideas students bring into classes. There is nothing more endlessly useless than an argument between two people who believe there is only One Truth and the only thing to debate is which Truth it is. One of the foundations of authoritarianism is "There is One Truth and I-- and only I-- will tell you what it is!"

So a two-pronged approach. One prong: a pipeline of various sources to get actual news and current history into classrooms, including the kind of civics education that everyone keeps calling for. The other prong: deliberately fostering atmosphere and practices for questioning everything. Would it be enough to counteract the outrage machine? I don't know, but it's better than just hoping.

UT: Taking Education Back To 1952

Utah is looking at HB 312 which seeks to "modify" school curriculum and standards. Having already interjected a version of the Ten Commandments into classrooms, legislators are seeing if they can't push some more religion in there, along with a hefty dose of right-wing politics and actual Mormonism. Coverage of bill has focused on the Christian nationalism aspect, but there are few other things going on in the bill that promise to lead Utah boldly into the past.

The bill ups the requirements for US history instruction, and it has some definite ideas about what that instruction should look like. It promises the development of some "open educational resources" that are both open and at the same time, the state is supposed to own all IP rights for the resources, including copyright.

The bill calls for materials that sell the idea "America good, communism bad." America's founding principles (individual liberty, limited government, natural rights) are set right beside supporting and preserving the family, the awesomeness of the Constitution, economic prosperity through free market capitalism, and the contributions that America has made to "human progress and flourishing." This is to be deliberately contrasted with the evils of communism and other autocratic government (while noting we have a republic that rejected the pure democracy of Greece). 

The course should note that communists tried to spread their ideology in the 20th century and tried to infiltrate institutions. It should list a whole bunch of communist atrocities including the Cultural Revolution in China, Khmer Rouge genocide, Cuba's commie naughtiness, and the systematic persecution of religious groups. That last one is a particularly bold choice for Utah, the state where the US Army was sent ion 1857 to take the Mormons down a peg or two.

Meanwhile, the course should teach the benefits of "constitutional republicanism." This is a quick capsule of the right-wing fable version of US history. Unlike many attempts to push this story into schools, this bill does not include any language requiring that teachers admit that yeah, there were some problems with slavery and racism in this country, but that's all in the past. 

The Christian nationalism part comes with the list of selected documents intended for inclusion:

the Bible, including the Hebrew Scriptures and New Testament, as literary and historical texts that have influenced American constitutional history, civic thought, and cultural development; 

This has been the standard smokescreen ever since the 1963 SCOTUS ruling that suggested that suggested teaching about the Bible was okay as long as it was purely objective consideration of historical and literary merit. It's an easy game to play. When my high school experimented with 9 weeks mini-courses, one was "The Bible as History and Literature." It was taught by a devout Baptist (famously, at the end of every class, his announcement for what was coming next started with "If we're here tomorrow..." by which he meant "If the Rapture doesn't come tonight...") and he taught the class like a literature class, but the only acceptable way to understand and interpret the text was the one reflected in his own religious beliefs. So, yeah, I've seen this game. Just think of any English teacher you had who taught that there was only one correct way to read the text, and imagine if that text were a sacred scripture.

Teaching the Bible as an important historical influence on the American Revolution is almost always proposed by people who believe that the historical influence was the attempt to found a Christian nation and not, say, the efforts of people who had deep personal knowledge of how badly things go when government and religion are closely linked and who were therefor determined to found a nation that was definitely NOT based on some religion. 

So, yes-- this bill is another attempt to forcibly sneak a particular brand of Christianity into classrooms.

Since we're talking Utah, there is one other interesting item in the bill--

when teaching Utah history, an LEA may include study of religious beliefs and texts that influenced the state's early founders and the state's history.

In Utah, that means The Book of Mormon (and I don't mean the Broadway musical). In fact, Utah provides a pretty rich contrast between a country not founded on a religion and a state absolutely founded as a colony for a definitely-not-mainstream religion where the church was the government.

Bill House sponsor Tiara Auxier is a parents' rights, make Utah great again conservative, former school board member and legislative newbie. It's not clear what her church affiliation is. Lead Senate sponsor is Todd Weiler. 

There's a story that some folks on the right like to tell. Once upon a time, a bunch of white Christian men got together and, with their Bibles open beside them, they copied out a Constitution that enshrined freedom, the nuclear family, and the free market, just the way God wanted them. Occasionally some bad individuals did bad things like enslaving Black folks, but we settled at that around 1964. In the 20th century, communists, for no reason other than they're just selfish and evil, snuck a bunch of their people into elite institutions (like schools and colleges) and started trying to indoctrinate children to join them in ruining the US just like they ruined the rest of the world. But we can take those institutions back and make them tell young people the one true story of our history (and everything else). 

Folks who believe this story also believe that if we could indoctrinate teach children this story-- and only this story-- then we'd get things back on track. 

I am a little curious how things would work if Utah passes this bill and conservative christianists discover that the Book of Mormon gets to enter the classroom on equal footing with the Bible. When you keep sliding that Overton Window around, you can never know what might slip through. It might even become a portal to an imaginary past.