There are teachers who like the CCSS. I try not to judge-- it's a long journey from hope to crankiness, and we all have to travel it in our own way in our own time. But when I encounter someone, whether in bloggosphere, facebookland, or meatworld, and I hear about how CCSS has really freed them up to do awesome new teachery things, I have just one question I want to ask:
What are you able to do now in a classroom that you could not do before CCSS?
See, this is one of the things I don't get. Were teachers seriously sitting in their rooms thinking, "Yes, I would like to dig deeper and work further into this reading material, but darn it, without some federal standards telling me to do it, I just can't"? Were there teachers who really wanted to push the envelope of education, but without some vaguely-worded bureaucratic edu-documents they just couldn't do it?
When someone tells me about the educational stuff I can now go ahead and do in my classroom, the close reading, the extensive writing, the deeper responses, the [fill in your favorite educational activity here], I can only respond, "What the heck do you think I've been doing for all these years?"
That is one of the truly insulting parts of CCSS-- some amateur shows up to tell me how to do something that i already do. "Hey, you could like, you know, have your students use evidence and facts and stuff when they are trying to prove a point?" Can I? Oh, can I? What a genius idea, because previously I just had them smear a few dead bugs on the paper and draw arrows to where the signs in the insect entrails supported their thesis statement! Thank you, oh thank you, for showing me how to do this!!
I'm lucky to be teaching high school English. If I were an elementary math teacher, CCSS would in fact be telling me to do things I never did before. And CCSS leaves out giant chunks of stuff that we all know are best practices. Generally, CCSS is about as freeing as a straightjacket. But if you are going to tell me that CCSS freed you up, liberated you, made it possible for you to be a better teacher than you ever were before, I have just one question:
What are you able to do now in a classroom that you could not do before CCSS?
Sunday, January 19, 2014
Van Roekel Needs Our Help
Mercedes Schneider has put out the call to assist the sadly confused Dennis Van Roekel. In an EdWeek article, Van Roekel is quoted here:
"When I sit on panels and someone chastises us for supporting the common core, I always ask: 'Are there specific things you believe should not be there?' I never get an answer," NEA President Dennis Van Roekel said. "Second, I ask, "What's missing?' I don't get an answer. And the third thing I ask is, 'What is the alternative? What do you want? Standards all over the ballpark, tests all over the ballpark?' "
In point of fact, Van Roekel continued, "the Common Core State Standards are our best guess of what students need to know to be successful, whether they choose college or careers. If someone has a better answer than that, I want to see it."
I'm ashamed to admit that Van Roekel is my president, but I'll be happy to offer my assistance here. Let me try to answer some of his questions.
What is the alternative?
When I teach logical fallacies, we call this a "complex question." In the sales world it's called "assuming the sale." Either way, it is (and has been) the most odious part of DVR's rhetorical strategy. Because "what's the alternative" assumes that we need one.
It tacitly accepts the reformatorium assumption that US public ed is a hodge-podged mess of incompetent educators who don't know what they are doing and who desperately need guidance and direction. What I would expect from my union president is something along the lines of, "Hey! My members are doing great work!" and NOT "Yeah, I need something to help these poor dopes that I'm president of."
This question, and the assumptions imbedded in it, skip over one hugely massively crucial point. The people who insist we must have CCSS have not offered one shred of evidence that national standards-- not just CCSS but ANY national standards-- work. Nothing. I get that from up on Mount DC, things would look neater and it would be a lot easier to run a national school district if everybody were on the same page. But that is not about providing the best possible education for every student in America; it's about providing a better management experience for government bureaucrats.
This is like having a doctor say, "Well, since your headaches are so bad, I guess we could take out your spleen." And when you protest that you don't want your spleen removed, the doctor says, "Well, what do you want me to take out instead. It's just a hodgepodge of organs in there. Which one do you want removed." And then he can tell you that this is his best guess, and in a decade or so we'll see if it pays off.
So, DVR, this question is void. The burden is not on me to provide an alternative national standards program. The burden is on you to prove to me that this national standards program (or ANY such program) would be beneficial. And that will require more than just calling CCSS your "best guess."
Are there specific things you believe should not be there?
With my big picture rant out of the way, I can move on to other questions. I'm going to limit my response here, because I don't want to break the internet, and hope that other bloggers take up Schneider's call. Let's just focus on two standards from W.9-10.3, the narrative writing cluster.
CCSS.ELA-Literacy.W.9-10.3a Engage and orient the reader by setting out a problem, situation, or observation, establishing one or multiple point(s) of view, and introducing a narrator and/or characters; create a smooth progression of experiences or events.
CCSS.ELA-Literacy.W.9-10.3e Provide a conclusion that follows from and reflects on what is experienced, observed, or resolved over the course of the narrative.
These are fine standards if you want to teach sophomores to writer Aesop's fables. They are typical of the language assumptions built into CCSS-- that there is one right way to do writing. Here the assumption is that narrative always flows exactly according to the tried-and-true plot curve, with exposition in the front and some sort of denouement in the back.
Like many of the reading and writing standards, it presents a curious disconnect because although we're touting these as 21st Century standards, in this narrative writing unit, Charles Dickens and Fyodor Dostoyevsky get an A, and William Faulkner, Kurt Vonnegut and Ernest Hemmingway flunk.
The narrative writing standards need to be yanked and rewritten entirely.
What's missing?
Again, I don't want to break the internet. Let me pick one specific item and one global issue.
The literature standards in grades 9-12 complete ignore any study of the cultural context or background from which the literature emerges. This fits with CCSS ties to a twisted version of Close Reading, a vision of literature that exists in a cultural vacuum. In this world, we are supposed to read "A Modest Proposal" without knowing why Swift would suggest such terrible things, read The Great Gatsby with no knowledge of the 1920s, read Animal Farm without hearing about the Bolshevik Revolution, and read the Gettysburg Address without talking about Lincoln or the Civil War. (In short, we are to read all literature as if it's practice for cold reading excerpts on a standardized test).
In this respect, the reading standards are grossly inadequate. And the need to "fix" them underlines the global issue.
There is no review process, no revision process, no process whatsoever to revise or improve the standards.
The strategic planning process employed by both local school districts and multi-national corporations, includes a review process, a means by which the stakeholders periodically take the document out and assess how well it's working. No company can earn an ISO 9-Whateverwe'reuptonow certification without it.
CCSS has nothing. No feedback process, no number to call and say, "Hey, about this one standard..." Viewed as a product, CCSS has the worst customer service ever, and no quality assurance process at all. There is no mechanism for feedback, no process for assessment of the standards. Just the CCSS, sealed in copyright-cemented amber, to sit unchanged and unchangeable (save the meager 15% we're all "allowed" to "add") and defended to the death by its corporate owners.
At a local manufacturing firm, there is a process by which guys on the assembly floor can go back to the engineering department and say, "Hey, this one thing you drew? When it come time to put it together, I think you need to look at how this works out." In fact, there's a process by which the engineers go to the assembly floor and ask them. That's how they've stayed at the top of their particular industry.
But there is no process for improving or fine-tuning the CCSS. And that is a huge thing to be missing.
I hope this answers your questions, at least a bit. I hope other bloggers will be along to add some more. And if you aren't getting this sort of information whenever you sit on panels, I suggest you get on line and look at the many well-researched, well-written, well-thought out blogs that are addressing all of these questions every day. If you really want to find out what teachers are thinking about these questions, I bet you could find out without too much trouble.
"When I sit on panels and someone chastises us for supporting the common core, I always ask: 'Are there specific things you believe should not be there?' I never get an answer," NEA President Dennis Van Roekel said. "Second, I ask, "What's missing?' I don't get an answer. And the third thing I ask is, 'What is the alternative? What do you want? Standards all over the ballpark, tests all over the ballpark?' "
In point of fact, Van Roekel continued, "the Common Core State Standards are our best guess of what students need to know to be successful, whether they choose college or careers. If someone has a better answer than that, I want to see it."
I'm ashamed to admit that Van Roekel is my president, but I'll be happy to offer my assistance here. Let me try to answer some of his questions.
What is the alternative?
When I teach logical fallacies, we call this a "complex question." In the sales world it's called "assuming the sale." Either way, it is (and has been) the most odious part of DVR's rhetorical strategy. Because "what's the alternative" assumes that we need one.
It tacitly accepts the reformatorium assumption that US public ed is a hodge-podged mess of incompetent educators who don't know what they are doing and who desperately need guidance and direction. What I would expect from my union president is something along the lines of, "Hey! My members are doing great work!" and NOT "Yeah, I need something to help these poor dopes that I'm president of."
This question, and the assumptions imbedded in it, skip over one hugely massively crucial point. The people who insist we must have CCSS have not offered one shred of evidence that national standards-- not just CCSS but ANY national standards-- work. Nothing. I get that from up on Mount DC, things would look neater and it would be a lot easier to run a national school district if everybody were on the same page. But that is not about providing the best possible education for every student in America; it's about providing a better management experience for government bureaucrats.
This is like having a doctor say, "Well, since your headaches are so bad, I guess we could take out your spleen." And when you protest that you don't want your spleen removed, the doctor says, "Well, what do you want me to take out instead. It's just a hodgepodge of organs in there. Which one do you want removed." And then he can tell you that this is his best guess, and in a decade or so we'll see if it pays off.
So, DVR, this question is void. The burden is not on me to provide an alternative national standards program. The burden is on you to prove to me that this national standards program (or ANY such program) would be beneficial. And that will require more than just calling CCSS your "best guess."
Are there specific things you believe should not be there?
With my big picture rant out of the way, I can move on to other questions. I'm going to limit my response here, because I don't want to break the internet, and hope that other bloggers take up Schneider's call. Let's just focus on two standards from W.9-10.3, the narrative writing cluster.
CCSS.ELA-Literacy.W.9-10.3a Engage and orient the reader by setting out a problem, situation, or observation, establishing one or multiple point(s) of view, and introducing a narrator and/or characters; create a smooth progression of experiences or events.
CCSS.ELA-Literacy.W.9-10.3e Provide a conclusion that follows from and reflects on what is experienced, observed, or resolved over the course of the narrative.
These are fine standards if you want to teach sophomores to writer Aesop's fables. They are typical of the language assumptions built into CCSS-- that there is one right way to do writing. Here the assumption is that narrative always flows exactly according to the tried-and-true plot curve, with exposition in the front and some sort of denouement in the back.
Like many of the reading and writing standards, it presents a curious disconnect because although we're touting these as 21st Century standards, in this narrative writing unit, Charles Dickens and Fyodor Dostoyevsky get an A, and William Faulkner, Kurt Vonnegut and Ernest Hemmingway flunk.
The narrative writing standards need to be yanked and rewritten entirely.
What's missing?
Again, I don't want to break the internet. Let me pick one specific item and one global issue.
The literature standards in grades 9-12 complete ignore any study of the cultural context or background from which the literature emerges. This fits with CCSS ties to a twisted version of Close Reading, a vision of literature that exists in a cultural vacuum. In this world, we are supposed to read "A Modest Proposal" without knowing why Swift would suggest such terrible things, read The Great Gatsby with no knowledge of the 1920s, read Animal Farm without hearing about the Bolshevik Revolution, and read the Gettysburg Address without talking about Lincoln or the Civil War. (In short, we are to read all literature as if it's practice for cold reading excerpts on a standardized test).
In this respect, the reading standards are grossly inadequate. And the need to "fix" them underlines the global issue.
There is no review process, no revision process, no process whatsoever to revise or improve the standards.
The strategic planning process employed by both local school districts and multi-national corporations, includes a review process, a means by which the stakeholders periodically take the document out and assess how well it's working. No company can earn an ISO 9-Whateverwe'reuptonow certification without it.
CCSS has nothing. No feedback process, no number to call and say, "Hey, about this one standard..." Viewed as a product, CCSS has the worst customer service ever, and no quality assurance process at all. There is no mechanism for feedback, no process for assessment of the standards. Just the CCSS, sealed in copyright-cemented amber, to sit unchanged and unchangeable (save the meager 15% we're all "allowed" to "add") and defended to the death by its corporate owners.
At a local manufacturing firm, there is a process by which guys on the assembly floor can go back to the engineering department and say, "Hey, this one thing you drew? When it come time to put it together, I think you need to look at how this works out." In fact, there's a process by which the engineers go to the assembly floor and ask them. That's how they've stayed at the top of their particular industry.
But there is no process for improving or fine-tuning the CCSS. And that is a huge thing to be missing.
I hope this answers your questions, at least a bit. I hope other bloggers will be along to add some more. And if you aren't getting this sort of information whenever you sit on panels, I suggest you get on line and look at the many well-researched, well-written, well-thought out blogs that are addressing all of these questions every day. If you really want to find out what teachers are thinking about these questions, I bet you could find out without too much trouble.
Friday, January 17, 2014
An Important CCSS Marketing Idea
When you look at the commercial marketing blitz that trails along behind the giant blocking forearms of Common Core, what's surprising is that it's not bigger.
True-- "CCSS" has been stamped every printed object that a school might potentially buy. Every book and worksheet now touts its CCSS-ness. Heck, there are elementary level bulletin board decorations out there that are CCSS ready.
But I think the Architects of the Reformatorium have missed some opportunities. Why not the Official Soft Drink of CCSS? Why not a CCSS clothing line-- polo shirts will probably sell well, but I see a natural market for CCSS straightjackets as well. When can I expect to see a Happy Meal with CCSS action figures inside? I can think of many fun things to do with a little plastic David Coleman action figure. Many, many fun things.
Think of the licensing opportunities. Plush Arne Duncan dolls. CCSS board games-- as your piece moves around the board you must stop every other square to take a test, then at the end, each piece is repeatedly weighed to see which has added the most value while going around the board. A CCSS blimp [insert your own hot air joke here]. So many missed opportunities.
I do see, however, one important marketing idea they have not missed.
Much has been made of the copyrighting of CCSS, the fact that nobody is allowed to modify it or alter it but the actual copyright holders. I can think of many small reasons to do so, but I can think of one huge one.
Fast forward to two or three years from now. "We've been carefully examining the data from the first rollout of CCSS," announces Arne Duncan (or some plush stuffed object that has replaced him), "and we're happy to announce that a blue-ribbon committee of top-level corporate stooges have incorporated some of what we've learned into new and improved standards, a draft of which we totally waved in front of some teachers for five minutes. So we are now proud to introduce Common Core State Standards 2.0!"
And then, in order to stay current aka keep their government $$, school districts across the country (well, public ones, anyway) will need to upgrade their software, books, materials, programs-in-a-box, training programs, etc etc etc ka-ching ka-ching ka-ching.
When it comes to marketing and money streams, tie-ins, licensing, and spin-offs are great. But nothing beats planned obsolescence.
True-- "CCSS" has been stamped every printed object that a school might potentially buy. Every book and worksheet now touts its CCSS-ness. Heck, there are elementary level bulletin board decorations out there that are CCSS ready.
But I think the Architects of the Reformatorium have missed some opportunities. Why not the Official Soft Drink of CCSS? Why not a CCSS clothing line-- polo shirts will probably sell well, but I see a natural market for CCSS straightjackets as well. When can I expect to see a Happy Meal with CCSS action figures inside? I can think of many fun things to do with a little plastic David Coleman action figure. Many, many fun things.
Think of the licensing opportunities. Plush Arne Duncan dolls. CCSS board games-- as your piece moves around the board you must stop every other square to take a test, then at the end, each piece is repeatedly weighed to see which has added the most value while going around the board. A CCSS blimp [insert your own hot air joke here]. So many missed opportunities.
I do see, however, one important marketing idea they have not missed.
Much has been made of the copyrighting of CCSS, the fact that nobody is allowed to modify it or alter it but the actual copyright holders. I can think of many small reasons to do so, but I can think of one huge one.
Fast forward to two or three years from now. "We've been carefully examining the data from the first rollout of CCSS," announces Arne Duncan (or some plush stuffed object that has replaced him), "and we're happy to announce that a blue-ribbon committee of top-level corporate stooges have incorporated some of what we've learned into new and improved standards, a draft of which we totally waved in front of some teachers for five minutes. So we are now proud to introduce Common Core State Standards 2.0!"
And then, in order to stay current aka keep their government $$, school districts across the country (well, public ones, anyway) will need to upgrade their software, books, materials, programs-in-a-box, training programs, etc etc etc ka-ching ka-ching ka-ching.
When it comes to marketing and money streams, tie-ins, licensing, and spin-offs are great. But nothing beats planned obsolescence.
Thursday, January 16, 2014
Seriously, Arne
Arne Duncan and I agree about something.
It's only one thing, but considering the horrid hash of the interview that Duncan gave Allie Bidwell at US News, that's one thing more than I would have expected.
It's a bit baffling, really. Duncan's only skill as Secretary of Education used to be that he could talk a good game, even if his words bore no connection whatsoever to the actual policies he pursued. Nowadays, he can't even do that. (I will note that via Rand Weingarten via twitter, Duncan apparently pleads having been misquoted in some portions of the article.)
But at one point in the article, we find this:
Part of the reason students in other countries outpace American students on these exams, Duncan said, is simply because they are more serious about education, not just in their cultures, but in their policies.
Okay, now that I look at it again, I realize that I agree with half of one thing that Duncan said, because the imbedded assumption that students in other countries outpace American students, is an assertion vague enough to be both meaningless and easily disproven. But the other part of Duncan's point has merit.
I agree that we Americans are not serious about education, both in culture and in policies. However, while Duncan and I may agree on the point, we have completely different ideas about what proves it.
If we were serious about education, we would not allow our public school system to be hijacked and dismantled by rich and powerful amateurs.
If we were serious about education, our media would direct its questions about education to teachers. We would all know the names and faces of the best teachers in this country, and they would be the ones being offered 50K a pop to talk about schools.
If we were serious about education, we would not stand for having it "measured" by means as frivolous and meaningless as the barrage of high stakes tests we subject students to.
If we were serious about education, we would fight like hell to keep the federal government's grubby grabby hands out of our state and local systems.
If we were serious about education, we would make heroes out of the people who provide it and protect them from the attacks of people who didn't know what the heck they were talking about.
If we were serious about education, we would make sure that schools had the top funding no matter what, even if that meant that other segments of government had to hold bake sales.
If we were serious about education, we would treat as a bad joke the notion that well-meaning untrained rich kids had any business spending a year or two in a classroom for resume building.
If we were serious about education, we would laugh the Common Core out of the room. Hell, if we were serious about education, we would never have proposed the Common Core in the first place.
If we were serious about education, we would never entrust our nations educational leadership to men who have no training or experience in education at all and who only listened to other men with no training or experience in education at all. If we were serious about education, we would demand leadership by people who were also serious about education, and we would demand leadership based on proven principles and techniques developed by people who truly cared about the education of America's students.
In short, Arne, if we were serious about education, we would not have you and your cronies running the Department of Education and popping up as "leaders" in the national discussion of education any more than we would be asking Robin Williams and Justin Bieber to straighten out the war in Afghanistan. If we were serious about education, we would send the whole wave of privateers masquerading as reformers scuttling back to their hedge funds and corporate tax havens.
So, I agree, Arne. We are not serious about education-- not in country, not in our policies, not in our media, not in our government.
The good news? I think we're getting a little more serious every day.
It's only one thing, but considering the horrid hash of the interview that Duncan gave Allie Bidwell at US News, that's one thing more than I would have expected.
It's a bit baffling, really. Duncan's only skill as Secretary of Education used to be that he could talk a good game, even if his words bore no connection whatsoever to the actual policies he pursued. Nowadays, he can't even do that. (I will note that via Rand Weingarten via twitter, Duncan apparently pleads having been misquoted in some portions of the article.)
But at one point in the article, we find this:
Part of the reason students in other countries outpace American students on these exams, Duncan said, is simply because they are more serious about education, not just in their cultures, but in their policies.
Okay, now that I look at it again, I realize that I agree with half of one thing that Duncan said, because the imbedded assumption that students in other countries outpace American students, is an assertion vague enough to be both meaningless and easily disproven. But the other part of Duncan's point has merit.
I agree that we Americans are not serious about education, both in culture and in policies. However, while Duncan and I may agree on the point, we have completely different ideas about what proves it.
If we were serious about education, we would not allow our public school system to be hijacked and dismantled by rich and powerful amateurs.
If we were serious about education, our media would direct its questions about education to teachers. We would all know the names and faces of the best teachers in this country, and they would be the ones being offered 50K a pop to talk about schools.
If we were serious about education, we would not stand for having it "measured" by means as frivolous and meaningless as the barrage of high stakes tests we subject students to.
If we were serious about education, we would fight like hell to keep the federal government's grubby grabby hands out of our state and local systems.
If we were serious about education, we would make heroes out of the people who provide it and protect them from the attacks of people who didn't know what the heck they were talking about.
If we were serious about education, we would make sure that schools had the top funding no matter what, even if that meant that other segments of government had to hold bake sales.
If we were serious about education, we would treat as a bad joke the notion that well-meaning untrained rich kids had any business spending a year or two in a classroom for resume building.
If we were serious about education, we would laugh the Common Core out of the room. Hell, if we were serious about education, we would never have proposed the Common Core in the first place.
If we were serious about education, we would never entrust our nations educational leadership to men who have no training or experience in education at all and who only listened to other men with no training or experience in education at all. If we were serious about education, we would demand leadership by people who were also serious about education, and we would demand leadership based on proven principles and techniques developed by people who truly cared about the education of America's students.
In short, Arne, if we were serious about education, we would not have you and your cronies running the Department of Education and popping up as "leaders" in the national discussion of education any more than we would be asking Robin Williams and Justin Bieber to straighten out the war in Afghanistan. If we were serious about education, we would send the whole wave of privateers masquerading as reformers scuttling back to their hedge funds and corporate tax havens.
So, I agree, Arne. We are not serious about education-- not in country, not in our policies, not in our media, not in our government.
The good news? I think we're getting a little more serious every day.
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
Unintended Charter Consequences
Grabby McMoneybuckets, owner-operator of a string of charter schools, dreams of the day when he won't have to answer to Slim McWhistle, local school board member. If he could just be free from both the usual state regs and the need to keep his authorizing body happy, life would be sweet. But Grabby should be careful what he wishes for...
The rising tide of charter naughtiness-- everything from stunning incompetence from shameless criminal activity-- is not an unexpected consequence. When you leave large piles of money lying around and post neither watchmen nor guard dogs nor even a grumpy chipmunk to keep an eye on them, you can expect some folks will take advantage of them. If you have the time and the stomach, I recommend Charter School Scandals, a website that provides an encyclopedia of corruption and misbehavior. I was going to pick some specifics, but there are just too many examples to choose from. The best news for anti-charter folks is that "charter school" is becoming synonymous with "banana republic of education." I am expecting it to turn up as punchline somewhere soon.
No, I think this fully predictable outcome is heralding the unexpected consequence that is just over the horizon.
Googling the word string "investigating charter school" returned 16,500 results. Sometimes charters are spanked and shut down by the local district that authorized them. But in some states like NY, that authorizing body operates on the state level. And in many cases, the misbehavior itself is state-level in scope and sanction.
In Pennsylvania, closing a charter generally involves an appeal to the state charter board, and some of the sanctions that have actually been brought to bear involve state entities like the ethics board. More spectacular spanking have been administered not by the state, but by the feds, for example when the USDOJ indicted charter operator Curtis Andrews for fraud. Move up to the giant Gulen mess and we're looking at FBI involvement in charter school oversight. Misbehavior keeps leading to court involvement.
The charter movement offered us schools that weren't accountable to the usual rules, but what they've delivered is a raft of schools that simply hunt down bigger and badder rules to break. And that has the unexpected side effect of creating a new school system that operates on the state and federal level.
I don't think this was intended as a way to further the federal-control agenda. But we're sliding slowly toward the day when a whole sector of US schools are run, not by local school boards, but by federal courts. Parents are increasingly vocal in their demands that somebody, anybody, take a look at what charters are doing. Attempts (like Pennsylvania's SB 1085) to free charters from the usual local authorities will actual result in charters having to play to a tougher house. Instead of sparring with a Slim, Grabby will increasingly find himselves answering to Justice McFed.
This new level of oversight may exacerbate our education incest problems, and that cozy revolving door between privateers and bureaucrats has become bad enough to merit its own watchdog organization. More legal problems means more high-government oversight of charters. Charters could respond to the additional oversight by trying to behave better, and many of them do. But they could also respond by trying to get more grease on more palms.
The attempt to free charters from oversight will get us more federal involvement in schools, and more corruption in the larger system. Grabby is soon going to be nostalgic for the days when Slim was his biggest problem.
The rising tide of charter naughtiness-- everything from stunning incompetence from shameless criminal activity-- is not an unexpected consequence. When you leave large piles of money lying around and post neither watchmen nor guard dogs nor even a grumpy chipmunk to keep an eye on them, you can expect some folks will take advantage of them. If you have the time and the stomach, I recommend Charter School Scandals, a website that provides an encyclopedia of corruption and misbehavior. I was going to pick some specifics, but there are just too many examples to choose from. The best news for anti-charter folks is that "charter school" is becoming synonymous with "banana republic of education." I am expecting it to turn up as punchline somewhere soon.
No, I think this fully predictable outcome is heralding the unexpected consequence that is just over the horizon.
Googling the word string "investigating charter school" returned 16,500 results. Sometimes charters are spanked and shut down by the local district that authorized them. But in some states like NY, that authorizing body operates on the state level. And in many cases, the misbehavior itself is state-level in scope and sanction.
In Pennsylvania, closing a charter generally involves an appeal to the state charter board, and some of the sanctions that have actually been brought to bear involve state entities like the ethics board. More spectacular spanking have been administered not by the state, but by the feds, for example when the USDOJ indicted charter operator Curtis Andrews for fraud. Move up to the giant Gulen mess and we're looking at FBI involvement in charter school oversight. Misbehavior keeps leading to court involvement.
The charter movement offered us schools that weren't accountable to the usual rules, but what they've delivered is a raft of schools that simply hunt down bigger and badder rules to break. And that has the unexpected side effect of creating a new school system that operates on the state and federal level.
I don't think this was intended as a way to further the federal-control agenda. But we're sliding slowly toward the day when a whole sector of US schools are run, not by local school boards, but by federal courts. Parents are increasingly vocal in their demands that somebody, anybody, take a look at what charters are doing. Attempts (like Pennsylvania's SB 1085) to free charters from the usual local authorities will actual result in charters having to play to a tougher house. Instead of sparring with a Slim, Grabby will increasingly find himselves answering to Justice McFed.
This new level of oversight may exacerbate our education incest problems, and that cozy revolving door between privateers and bureaucrats has become bad enough to merit its own watchdog organization. More legal problems means more high-government oversight of charters. Charters could respond to the additional oversight by trying to behave better, and many of them do. But they could also respond by trying to get more grease on more palms.
The attempt to free charters from oversight will get us more federal involvement in schools, and more corruption in the larger system. Grabby is soon going to be nostalgic for the days when Slim was his biggest problem.
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
On Studentfirst Grades
I'm pretty sure that Michelle Rhee, celebrity spokesmodel for ed reformy stuff, is a Kim Kardashian kind of problem. The best response to today's ridiculous grade release, as with most of what Rhee does, is to not talk about it as if it is the most important things that happened in the education world today, stop linking to it, and generally stop turning her into the most successful clickbait on the interwebs since Justin Bieber danced with a panda cub.
Seriously. Kids were shot up today in NM, and the internet is burning up with the latest Rhee-volting development. The woman has never successfully done anything, at all, and yet every time we react to her like someone just slapped us with an armadillo, it makes her look like a Really Important Voice. What might happen if we all just refused to mention her for a week?
That is all.
Seriously. Kids were shot up today in NM, and the internet is burning up with the latest Rhee-volting development. The woman has never successfully done anything, at all, and yet every time we react to her like someone just slapped us with an armadillo, it makes her look like a Really Important Voice. What might happen if we all just refused to mention her for a week?
That is all.
Should I Quit?
I've been there. A little over a decade ago, I was a local union president through contentious contract negotiations that started with contract stripping** and ended with a strike. I learned just how little some community members valued what we do. I learned it because some of them stopped me on the street or called me at home to tell me. And not just the foaming-at-the-mouth angry ones-- those were actually easier to take because I knew they were angry and upset by the situation and, hell, so was I. No, the tough ones were the people who wanted to explain to me in cool, calm, rational terms why teachers just didn't deserve the kind of money, autonomy or support that we were asking for.
So I stared into the abyss for about three years, and when it was settled, I started looking-- seriously looking-- at other career options.
I have asked that question-- should I quit?
I'm offering this piece today as a balance to yesterday's column, which some saw as too sunny. I heard from many people who would tell any aspiring teacher to give up that dream. And we all hear daily about the teachers who decide it's time to get out. I can't tell you how to answer that question for yourself, but I can tell you how I did, and didn't, do.
I didn't stay because I didn't want to be a quitter. Quitting doesn't make you a quitter, and staying in a situation that is toxic does not make you noble.
I didn't stay because I had to do it for the kids. I am not indispensable. I'm a pretty good teacher, and I can be replaced with another pretty good teacher. Some day I will have to be.
I would not quit because teaching made me unhappy. My job is not responsible for making me happy. My students are not responsible for making me happy or feeding me emotionally. The person responsible for my emotional health and happiness-- well, that's my job.
Quitting or not quitting, for me, came down to just one question-- can I do the work that I set out to do? I got into this profession to help students get better at reading, writing, speaking and listening. I got into this profession to help students become a better version of themselves, to help them find a way to be fully human in this world. So my question was, could I still do that work?
There are many things that can get in the way. A district that starves the classroom of useful resources. A set of rules that makes employment contingent on working against those goals. A building environment so toxic that the atmosphere prevents any growth. An environment so riddled with obstacles that simply getting past them leaves no energy left for actually doing the work.
In the end, being unvalued and disrespected didn't factor in my decision. Dealing with people who didn't get it didn't factor in. I could still do the work I had set out to do, and so I stayed.
My relationship with my job changed. I became more protective and feisty about my personal teaching mission. I became more willing to challenge authority or (because I have passive-aggressive behavior down to an art form) more willing to defy the system quietly to do what I believe is right. I got out of union leadership, which had brought me all too often in contact with the most difficult people both outside and inside the profession. And I became more deliberate in cultivating support systems and rewarding activities in my life outside the building.
It took a good three years for me to come back from the edge, to stop scanning employment ads and thinking, "Hmmm, maybe..."
As I said, I can't tell anyone else how to make this decision. I know lots of folks face it. I know big urban districts bring a level of bureaucratic cray-cray that my small district can only dream of. And I know most of all that the people who used to stop me on the street or call me at home now sit in state and federal capitals and even in the superintendent's office of some districts. The people who can make teaching miserable have unprecedented power. I don't begrudge anybody the decision to quit, and I try not to judge. It is an ugly new world. But no matter how ugly the world gets, it still needs teachers, and I still want to be one.
**Contract stripping is a negotiation technique where management proposes to cut off your arms and legs and then pretends that only cutting off your arms constitutes a "concession." It's a great way to negotiate without giving up a thing. In our case, the opening salvo of negotiations was to strip dozens of language items from the contract.
So I stared into the abyss for about three years, and when it was settled, I started looking-- seriously looking-- at other career options.
I have asked that question-- should I quit?
I'm offering this piece today as a balance to yesterday's column, which some saw as too sunny. I heard from many people who would tell any aspiring teacher to give up that dream. And we all hear daily about the teachers who decide it's time to get out. I can't tell you how to answer that question for yourself, but I can tell you how I did, and didn't, do.
I didn't stay because I didn't want to be a quitter. Quitting doesn't make you a quitter, and staying in a situation that is toxic does not make you noble.
I didn't stay because I had to do it for the kids. I am not indispensable. I'm a pretty good teacher, and I can be replaced with another pretty good teacher. Some day I will have to be.
I would not quit because teaching made me unhappy. My job is not responsible for making me happy. My students are not responsible for making me happy or feeding me emotionally. The person responsible for my emotional health and happiness-- well, that's my job.
Quitting or not quitting, for me, came down to just one question-- can I do the work that I set out to do? I got into this profession to help students get better at reading, writing, speaking and listening. I got into this profession to help students become a better version of themselves, to help them find a way to be fully human in this world. So my question was, could I still do that work?
There are many things that can get in the way. A district that starves the classroom of useful resources. A set of rules that makes employment contingent on working against those goals. A building environment so toxic that the atmosphere prevents any growth. An environment so riddled with obstacles that simply getting past them leaves no energy left for actually doing the work.
In the end, being unvalued and disrespected didn't factor in my decision. Dealing with people who didn't get it didn't factor in. I could still do the work I had set out to do, and so I stayed.
My relationship with my job changed. I became more protective and feisty about my personal teaching mission. I became more willing to challenge authority or (because I have passive-aggressive behavior down to an art form) more willing to defy the system quietly to do what I believe is right. I got out of union leadership, which had brought me all too often in contact with the most difficult people both outside and inside the profession. And I became more deliberate in cultivating support systems and rewarding activities in my life outside the building.
It took a good three years for me to come back from the edge, to stop scanning employment ads and thinking, "Hmmm, maybe..."
As I said, I can't tell anyone else how to make this decision. I know lots of folks face it. I know big urban districts bring a level of bureaucratic cray-cray that my small district can only dream of. And I know most of all that the people who used to stop me on the street or call me at home now sit in state and federal capitals and even in the superintendent's office of some districts. The people who can make teaching miserable have unprecedented power. I don't begrudge anybody the decision to quit, and I try not to judge. It is an ugly new world. But no matter how ugly the world gets, it still needs teachers, and I still want to be one.
**Contract stripping is a negotiation technique where management proposes to cut off your arms and legs and then pretends that only cutting off your arms constitutes a "concession." It's a great way to negotiate without giving up a thing. In our case, the opening salvo of negotiations was to strip dozens of language items from the contract.
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