What do you do when it's election day and you know you're on the losing side before you even enter the ballot box (or tube or data input station)?
I'm a big believer in speaking your truth, even if it's the smallest speak in the room. I think we minimize that action at times because we don't see how it can turn the whole ship around-- and very often it's true that it just won't make an enormous difference.
But I like Thoreau's image--
Let your life be a counter friction to stop the machine.
What I have to do is to see, at any rate, that I do not lend myself to
the wrong which I condemn.
Thoreau may overstate his case a bit (I know-- shocking from Thoreau) but I like the idea of friction. Friction doesn't necessarily stop the machine, but it always affects the way the machine runs. And sometimes that's good enough.
Smart money says that by midnight tonight, Andrew Cuomo will still be governor. But just as with the primary election, there is a huge difference between a Cuomo who's swept into office and one who just barely squeaks through the door as crowds holler at him (a huge difference in particular for Cuomo 2016's Presidential dreams).
It's the same way you may not be able to flat-out stop your school district from doing Something Stupid, but you can keep it from being an easy, unanimous Stupid. You can't always prevent people from achieving a bad goal. Sometimes the best you can do is make people work for it, and that affects the energy they have to implement it, which in turn sets the stage for failure, which may one day lead to a bunch of people coming to you to say, "Hey, tell me again about why this was a dumb idea."
Sometimes you're friction. Sometimes you're playing a long game.
And sometimes you just want to sleep at night. You want to be able to say, "I did what I could. I said what I had to say. I didn't sit silent in the face of Something Wrong." And sometimes that's as good as it gets.
Yes, voting in elections in this country sucks these days, with a full buffet of bought-and-paid-for tools. But as long as it all runs smoothly, they can tell themselves, "Hey, this is going great! No problems at all." So be a friction. Speak your piece. Get out there, hold your nose, and vote.
Tuesday, November 4, 2014
Monday, November 3, 2014
Can TFA Be Reinvented
I am a fan of blogger and education professor Jack Schneider. He occupies what I think of as the Very Reasonable Wing of the Resistance with other writers like Peter DeWitt and John Thompson. In the great ongoing debate about the fate of US public education, it's a Good Thing to have some smart folks who are always looking for ways to open lines of communication and dialogue.
In his latest post, Schneider wonders aloud (well, in print-- well, in words rendered on computer screens) if TFA could be reinvented as something less awful.
So to all the TFA critics out there, here's my pitch: TFA isn't going away. Not in our lifetime. Why not, then, pressure them to do something like this—a reinvention that would convert their power and influence more productive?
That's the conclusion. His ideas are multi-layered.
Plan A is for TFA to retool their rhetoric to match the things they say internally to each other, which Schneider believes are far more realistic and reasonable than the blustering TFA public persona.
But Schneider doesn't think he can get Plan A, so he has another plan ready for consideration.
To put it as simply as possible: I'd like to see TFA set a goal of recruiting all of its teachers from the alumni rolls of the elementary and high schools where it places teachers.
He argues that this would A) really cement their commitment to recruiting teachers of color and B) would make them confront what it took to get students from high-poverty schools ready to enter and succeed in college.
It is a really interesting idea, but I think it's a non-starter. I think the problem is that Schneider mis-reads the purpose of TFA. At this point, I don't think TFA's missoin is providing teachers for high needs schools. I don't think that's their vision. I don't think that's their brand.
Like many people, I'll give TFA credit for starting out with the best of intentions. But as I argue here, their stated purpose shifts don't resemble the mission creep of a service organization, but the product marketing shifts of a corporation.
And TFA's product is not education for high-poverty students. TFA now deal in money, power, training and networking. They can't forsake the ivy leaguers who use their service, because those folks are their customers. Check out this Business Insider article about how TFA is a great way to angle for a job at Google (where, insiders say, only products of select universities need apply). Look at the massive network of well-placed Masters of the Universe TFA has produced.
At this point, high needs schools are being used as training facilities for TFA's true customers-- the resume boosters who are just passing through. TFA's customers are also the charter operators who depend on TFA for front line shock troops (but troops with a limited life span, because short-term employees are far better for ROI). And to best serve these customers, TFA must maintain its connections and profile, which means power and prestige are part of its business plan, and not something it can easily turn its back on.
I have no doubt that the TFA ranks include some people with a sincere interest in teaching and social judgment. TFA needs these people top maintain an appearance of legitimacy, a way for donors and backers to feel good about the fresh-scrubbed young folks who Really Want To Make a Difference. But as Schneider notes, TFA already knows the things they ought to be doing to better support those fresh-faced recruits and better insure their success. TFA knows what it needs to do for those folks-- and so far, it simply isn't doing them. Because as long as TFA can generate the numbers that make the enterprise look good, they've done enough. Because creating pockets of educational success in high needs schools isn't really their primary mission.
If it were, Schneider's idea would make sense. But his ideas will not help TFA improve its profile, maintain its political clout, or generate more contributions. And his ideas especially won't serve TFA's customer base of resume builders, charter operators, and power players who want to look good doing good.
TFA has already reinvented itself several times, and each time the reinvention was about maintaining TFA's standing as a Major Player in the Ed Reform Biz as well as an extension of the high status school networking network. It will continue to reinvent itself to meet those goals. I would love to believe that at some point it might decide to turn back to its roots and the people in power would really, sincerely redirect their resources and attention to achieving the goals of helping to improve education in the poor corners of the country. But their original attempts to do so were misguided, and they've only wandered further away from that place.
Jack Schneider thinks they could still do good work. It's pretty to think so, but I don't see it happening any time soon.
In his latest post, Schneider wonders aloud (well, in print-- well, in words rendered on computer screens) if TFA could be reinvented as something less awful.
So to all the TFA critics out there, here's my pitch: TFA isn't going away. Not in our lifetime. Why not, then, pressure them to do something like this—a reinvention that would convert their power and influence more productive?
That's the conclusion. His ideas are multi-layered.
Plan A is for TFA to retool their rhetoric to match the things they say internally to each other, which Schneider believes are far more realistic and reasonable than the blustering TFA public persona.
But Schneider doesn't think he can get Plan A, so he has another plan ready for consideration.
To put it as simply as possible: I'd like to see TFA set a goal of recruiting all of its teachers from the alumni rolls of the elementary and high schools where it places teachers.
He argues that this would A) really cement their commitment to recruiting teachers of color and B) would make them confront what it took to get students from high-poverty schools ready to enter and succeed in college.
It is a really interesting idea, but I think it's a non-starter. I think the problem is that Schneider mis-reads the purpose of TFA. At this point, I don't think TFA's missoin is providing teachers for high needs schools. I don't think that's their vision. I don't think that's their brand.
Like many people, I'll give TFA credit for starting out with the best of intentions. But as I argue here, their stated purpose shifts don't resemble the mission creep of a service organization, but the product marketing shifts of a corporation.
And TFA's product is not education for high-poverty students. TFA now deal in money, power, training and networking. They can't forsake the ivy leaguers who use their service, because those folks are their customers. Check out this Business Insider article about how TFA is a great way to angle for a job at Google (where, insiders say, only products of select universities need apply). Look at the massive network of well-placed Masters of the Universe TFA has produced.
At this point, high needs schools are being used as training facilities for TFA's true customers-- the resume boosters who are just passing through. TFA's customers are also the charter operators who depend on TFA for front line shock troops (but troops with a limited life span, because short-term employees are far better for ROI). And to best serve these customers, TFA must maintain its connections and profile, which means power and prestige are part of its business plan, and not something it can easily turn its back on.
I have no doubt that the TFA ranks include some people with a sincere interest in teaching and social judgment. TFA needs these people top maintain an appearance of legitimacy, a way for donors and backers to feel good about the fresh-scrubbed young folks who Really Want To Make a Difference. But as Schneider notes, TFA already knows the things they ought to be doing to better support those fresh-faced recruits and better insure their success. TFA knows what it needs to do for those folks-- and so far, it simply isn't doing them. Because as long as TFA can generate the numbers that make the enterprise look good, they've done enough. Because creating pockets of educational success in high needs schools isn't really their primary mission.
If it were, Schneider's idea would make sense. But his ideas will not help TFA improve its profile, maintain its political clout, or generate more contributions. And his ideas especially won't serve TFA's customer base of resume builders, charter operators, and power players who want to look good doing good.
TFA has already reinvented itself several times, and each time the reinvention was about maintaining TFA's standing as a Major Player in the Ed Reform Biz as well as an extension of the high status school networking network. It will continue to reinvent itself to meet those goals. I would love to believe that at some point it might decide to turn back to its roots and the people in power would really, sincerely redirect their resources and attention to achieving the goals of helping to improve education in the poor corners of the country. But their original attempts to do so were misguided, and they've only wandered further away from that place.
Jack Schneider thinks they could still do good work. It's pretty to think so, but I don't see it happening any time soon.
Is Ed Reform Addicted To "New"?
I have followed with interest the continuing blogoddysey of Andy Smarick (partner at Bellwether Education and Fordham Institute BFF) as he considers some of the places where the reformster movement and classic conservatism don't quite fit. I'm interested because 1) I think Smarick's an intelligent, articulate guy and 2) I've been saying for a while that classic conservatism and modern education reform have enough compatibility issues that I don't think eHarmony would send them on a date.
So installation six of Smarick's journey considers the addiction to "new," particular the automatic overriding of the old with anything labeled "new" or "revolutionary" (he might also have thrown in "game changing"). Is this deep devotion to "new" leading reformsters to throw out and/or ignore perfectly good school system features that are already in place?
As a thirty-five year classroom veteran, I can answer that question with a comparison that I can attest to because in my neighborhood we do have bears and we do have woods, and yes, the two go together.
This is not a new development, however. Or rather, it's not unique to the current wave of reformistas.
Politicians and hucksters, both trying to make some cheap hay, have been crying "educational crisis" since, at a minimum, the appearance of A Nation At Risk. And nobody who is hoping to capitalize on a crisis does it by saying, "OMGZ!! Education is in terrible crisis! Quick-- identify the parts worth preserving and whatever you do, don't hire/elect/pay me to fix them!"
No, for almost as long as I've been teaching, schools have been beset with experts trumpeting The Next Big Thing, because, Good Lord, man, the educational sky is falling and you must do something-- anything -- different right away (preferably like hiring me to consult or buying this new program in a box).
Teachers barely looked up or paid attention when Common Core first appear precisely because it looked, at first, like the 5,723,933rd Next Big Thing To Save Education to appear at the school house door.
There are districts out there (thank heaven I don't teach at one, but there are at least two within a stone's throw of me) that adopt new programs, new materials, new methods, complete with new consultants every single year. And there are vendors out there more than willing to sell you a New Savior, no matter how ridiculous. My district did bring in consultants and pay thousands of dollars to implement a special program that was special because A) writing types that every teacher learns about in teacher school were given a proprietary numbering system, B) the writings were store in special proprietary file folders and C) all writing was to be done by skipping every other line on the paper. And for that we paid, I kid you not, thousands of dollars.
And every new program requires something to be thrown out, either as an act of policy or of necessity. One of the things non-teachers just don't get is that we are working with a finite number of instructional hours. If you tell me that I must spend fifty hours a year on a new program, fifty hours of something else must come out of my instruction. You can leave that up to my best judgment, or you can tell me what I have to cut, but either way, something is going away.
This has been a recurring annual process in most schools for as long as probably 99% of current working teachers have been in a classroom. And no part of this process ever involves sitting down to say, "Okay, what part of what we're doing should we absolutely hold onto and support." This is just one part of why teachers despair of having their voices heard. Stand up at your own staff meeting and try to express an professional opinion, and you're lucky to be heard. But leave teaching, start a consulting firm, and charge a few thousand, and suddenly you get to be the guy running the meeting (suddenly, I have an idea for my retirement career).
So this using the New to steamroll the old without concern for the value of the old-- this is not new to current reformerdom. It's just that CCSS and its related movements have in this, as in so many things, brought us the same old routine hoppped up on steroids.
In our earnestness to improve the lives of America’s kids, especially the most disadvantaged boys and girls, our field has become terribly unbalanced. We have consistently picked the progressive path (with its pitfalls) and ignored the virtues of conservatism and the benefits of preservation.
But the question remains: Is it possible to combine the two? Can the strengths of both left and right be leveraged in a single bold reform effort?
Well, yes and no. As soon as you start using words like "bold" my internal alarm goes off, because that goes with the usual call for some New Revolutionary Super Program That Will Change Everything. Though I suppose in the ongoing climate of manufactured overhyped crisis, it's bold to just sit still and refuse to be stampeded.
Well, let's not split vocabularial hairs. My revolutionary idea is that we pick and choose directions for education based on what works, whether it is old or new. Now, I realize we're are going to have (and are currently having) huge HUGE arguments about how to decide what works. For instance, I believe that standardized tests tell us absolutely zip zero nothing about what does or doesn't work in schools.
I confess an inclination to the old that comes with a proven track record-- but I'm drawn to the track record, not the mere fact of oldness. And I'm always willing to consider the new, provided it doesn't violate my own professional sense of what's sound and it isn't just a new, more expensive way to do what I can already do. But I bet we could mostly agree on this-- let's not consider either newness or oldness a virtue in and of itself. I'm looking forward to Smarick's seventh installment to see how close our answers are.
So installation six of Smarick's journey considers the addiction to "new," particular the automatic overriding of the old with anything labeled "new" or "revolutionary" (he might also have thrown in "game changing"). Is this deep devotion to "new" leading reformsters to throw out and/or ignore perfectly good school system features that are already in place?
As a thirty-five year classroom veteran, I can answer that question with a comparison that I can attest to because in my neighborhood we do have bears and we do have woods, and yes, the two go together.
This is not a new development, however. Or rather, it's not unique to the current wave of reformistas.
Politicians and hucksters, both trying to make some cheap hay, have been crying "educational crisis" since, at a minimum, the appearance of A Nation At Risk. And nobody who is hoping to capitalize on a crisis does it by saying, "OMGZ!! Education is in terrible crisis! Quick-- identify the parts worth preserving and whatever you do, don't hire/elect/pay me to fix them!"
No, for almost as long as I've been teaching, schools have been beset with experts trumpeting The Next Big Thing, because, Good Lord, man, the educational sky is falling and you must do something-- anything -- different right away (preferably like hiring me to consult or buying this new program in a box).
Teachers barely looked up or paid attention when Common Core first appear precisely because it looked, at first, like the 5,723,933rd Next Big Thing To Save Education to appear at the school house door.
There are districts out there (thank heaven I don't teach at one, but there are at least two within a stone's throw of me) that adopt new programs, new materials, new methods, complete with new consultants every single year. And there are vendors out there more than willing to sell you a New Savior, no matter how ridiculous. My district did bring in consultants and pay thousands of dollars to implement a special program that was special because A) writing types that every teacher learns about in teacher school were given a proprietary numbering system, B) the writings were store in special proprietary file folders and C) all writing was to be done by skipping every other line on the paper. And for that we paid, I kid you not, thousands of dollars.
And every new program requires something to be thrown out, either as an act of policy or of necessity. One of the things non-teachers just don't get is that we are working with a finite number of instructional hours. If you tell me that I must spend fifty hours a year on a new program, fifty hours of something else must come out of my instruction. You can leave that up to my best judgment, or you can tell me what I have to cut, but either way, something is going away.
This has been a recurring annual process in most schools for as long as probably 99% of current working teachers have been in a classroom. And no part of this process ever involves sitting down to say, "Okay, what part of what we're doing should we absolutely hold onto and support." This is just one part of why teachers despair of having their voices heard. Stand up at your own staff meeting and try to express an professional opinion, and you're lucky to be heard. But leave teaching, start a consulting firm, and charge a few thousand, and suddenly you get to be the guy running the meeting (suddenly, I have an idea for my retirement career).
So this using the New to steamroll the old without concern for the value of the old-- this is not new to current reformerdom. It's just that CCSS and its related movements have in this, as in so many things, brought us the same old routine hoppped up on steroids.
In our earnestness to improve the lives of America’s kids, especially the most disadvantaged boys and girls, our field has become terribly unbalanced. We have consistently picked the progressive path (with its pitfalls) and ignored the virtues of conservatism and the benefits of preservation.
But the question remains: Is it possible to combine the two? Can the strengths of both left and right be leveraged in a single bold reform effort?
Well, yes and no. As soon as you start using words like "bold" my internal alarm goes off, because that goes with the usual call for some New Revolutionary Super Program That Will Change Everything. Though I suppose in the ongoing climate of manufactured overhyped crisis, it's bold to just sit still and refuse to be stampeded.
Well, let's not split vocabularial hairs. My revolutionary idea is that we pick and choose directions for education based on what works, whether it is old or new. Now, I realize we're are going to have (and are currently having) huge HUGE arguments about how to decide what works. For instance, I believe that standardized tests tell us absolutely zip zero nothing about what does or doesn't work in schools.
I confess an inclination to the old that comes with a proven track record-- but I'm drawn to the track record, not the mere fact of oldness. And I'm always willing to consider the new, provided it doesn't violate my own professional sense of what's sound and it isn't just a new, more expensive way to do what I can already do. But I bet we could mostly agree on this-- let's not consider either newness or oldness a virtue in and of itself. I'm looking forward to Smarick's seventh installment to see how close our answers are.
Sunday, November 2, 2014
Charters: Diminishing Returns and Just Good Enough
I suspect many of us will be returning to the fascinating-in-a-car-crash-way transcript of the K12 Fiscal Year 2015 Guidance Conference Call transcript. But for the moment, I want to concentrate on just this one question from one of the conference call participants
Jeffrey P. Meuler - Robert W. Baird & Co. Incorporated, Research Division
So this is a related big-picture question. I mean, you're framing it up that mission #1 is always improving academic outcomes, which -- it's the good and noble thing to do, absolutely, no disagreement there. But I'm just wondering, is your view that -- you guys are deploying a lot of capital. Is this a business that is capable, while investing in academics at the necessary level, that you can return -- generate returns on capital in excess of your cost of capital? I just -- if you could comment on how you're thinking about that as you deploy a lot of capital and as you invest in academic outcomes.
What Meuler seems to mean is this:
It's nice that a school is interested in academic achievement and all, but you're not going to spend so much money on it that you cut into that sweet, sweet pile of money, are you?
Here are two major ways in which the free market is incompatible with public education.
Diminishing Returns and Just Good Enough
Any operator of a business has to look at cost-benefits analysis. As the operator of a widget business, I look at my widget manufacturing and look not just at ways to improve the widgets, but ways to improve the widgets that will pay me back in revenue.
Ford could make cars that are objectively "better" by having all the upholstery hand-stitched with gold-infused thread. But that improvement would not allow the company to make more money from car sales-- certainly not in comparison to the additional production costs. So that improvement (and many others) will not make it into production.
Wal-Mart could have greeters who hand you a cup of cocoa and a scone when you walk in, and that would definitely make the experience of shopping there "better," but it wouldn't make Wal-Mart more money-- certainly not in comparison to the cost of cocoa and scones. So that's not happening any time soon.
Part of marketing is making a product that is Just Good Enough. Make it too crappy and people won't buy it. Make it too awesome and you won't be able to make money selling it. It has to be Just Good Enough, so that you can still market it effectively without cutting into your revenues. Excellence is expensive, but Pretty Good leaves lots of room to make a profit.
So what Meuler wants to know is, "You're not going to pursue academic excellence to the detriment of finances, are you?"
At some point, a school that doggedly pursued top academic achievement for all its students would become financially unsustainable (unless it were a select private prep school that could charge Philips Academy style tuition). Charters need achievement numbers good enough to stay in the market, but not so good that they're spending too much money to get them.
The Enemy
In marketing there is sometimes a reverse boiling frog pot effect that kicks in. Can we lower the Just Good Enough bar without ill effects on market share? Customers will pay two dollars for a ten ounce box of Frosted Sugar Bombs. Will they readily pay the same if there are only nine and a half ounces in there? We all know this process-- I fully expect that my grandchildren will buy potato chip packages that are the size of a small labrador retriever but which contain one single potato chip. The product is the enemy of profit.
This is more true in education than in any other enterprise. Every dollar I put into the classroom is a dollar that does not go into my pocket. That's fine for public schools-- they don't need to have a penny left over at the end of the year. But if I'm working a for profit or a semi-hidden profit or just trying to pay my $500K CEO, every cent I spend on the students is a cent taken away from my backers, investors, owners, and other financially interested parties.
In free market schooling, students will not be the point. They will be an obstacle. In this model we often compare them to widgets or products, but actually, in the free market charter system, students are also the employees. Their job is to produce good data that can be used for marketing so that the revenue stream can be maintained, and so to that extent, spending money to teach them makes some business sense. But when they start clamoring for art classes or nicer lunches or more tutors, they are on the same footing as assembly line workers agitating for nicer food in the break room. They are asking the company to spend money on something that will not help the company make money.
An A+ student doesn't bring in more money than an A- student. The state pays a flat rate for all students, so past a certain point, spending more to get higher achievement is just throwing money away without hope of increased returns. The free market imperative is to find ways to do less and less for the students. The students don't need to be excellent. Just good enough.
Nothing Nefarious Here
It's typical to want to paint the businessmen in these free market charter scenarios as evil villains, and that's a mistake.
First, it's unfair, because I have no doubt that many if not all of them are reasonably decent human beings.
Second, it implies that if we installed virtuous morally upright CEOs at the top of this pyramid, everything would be okay. That's not true.
It's important to realize that asking the question about investment, trying to get to Just Good Enough, making sure that we're not spending too much money on the education part of the school-- those are all responsible behaviors for people in the investing and management world. Somewhere there are people managing your retirement portfolio, and you would be royally pissed if they weren't paying attention to these kinds of issues.
No, the takeaway here is not that businessmen are evil. The takeaway is that a free market is fundamentally incompatible with a public school system. Putting on pads and slamming other people to the ground is very appropriate on a football field; it's not so great in a China shop. Free market business guys in the world of education are fullbacks body-checking the China, and while it's perhaps frustrating for them, it is positively destructive for the China.
Crossposted from my "other" blog, View from the Cheap Seats
Media and Eyeballs
I'm cleaning up some scraps in the bloggy attic this morning, and some of them took me back to the Time magazine flap of last fall.
There are several chunks of experience that factor into my views of media. I've been a weekly newspaper columnist for almost sixteen years. I was the media "face" of my striking union a little over a decade ago. I teach journalism sometimes, and I have friends and former students in the business.
So I think there are some mistakes that people pretty routinely make when they think about, or deal with, media.
People grossly over-estimate media's investment in a particular point of view. While people may believe that a media outlet is deeply committed to a pro-mugwump or anti-ooblek position, mostly what media are deeply committed to is eyeballs. Lots and lots of eyeballs. Following close behind the eyeball commitment is a commitment to maintaining stature-- which is important because it helps attract eyeballs. If people don't believe you know what you're talking about, they won't come when you call. So, eyeballs.
Media make money by collecting eyeballs and then selling access to those eyeballs. That's the business model. The two big shifts of that model in the last few decades are 1) huge competition for the eyeballs and 2) moving from targets of "enough money to keep lights on" to "enough money for a second Lexus and a vacation home in Spain for the top brass."
With my newspaper gig, I periodically get Letters to the Editor taking me to task for one thing or another (the rule of op-ed is that if I compare, say, a political office to a herd of confused rhinos, I will get nothing from the office and several letters from angry rhino fans). People sometimes ask, "Boy, was your editor upset that Grumpy McSpewsalot chewed you out yesterday." The answer is that no, my editor is actually delighted, because the commotion will sell papers.
However, don't overestimate the excitement of selling single copies. At its 2005 peak, advertising revenue was 82% of total revenue for a newspaper. Today advertising accounts for about 69% of revenue for traditional news media. Subscriptions are great because they represent pre-commited eyeballs. And advertising revenue is driven by the number of eyeballs, which means that media want to get a high number of eyeballs, even if those eyeballs aren't actually paying to see the media.
That's why "I'm cancelling my subscription (and reducing your circulation numbers)" is far more compelling than "I'm not going to buy this at the newsstand."
The internet has both simplified and complicated the picture. Paper copies are hard to really track, but the internet knows exactly how many times you clicked on that picture of Kim Kardashian's boobalicious dress, you naughty boy. If you're tired of reading about Ann Coulter, stop reading about Ann Coulter. She may be full of crap, and there may be few people who take her seriously, but she is reliable click bait.
The internet is perfect democracy, perfect free market in action. And every click is a vote for what you would like to see more of. And every mention of something gives it more presence in the giant google bowl o' internet fun. See, when I refuse to use She Who Will Not Be Named's name, or post links to certain odious websites, it's not just pique. I'm doing my teensy part to give those things less presence on the interwebs.
So if you think for one minute that Time's editorial board was shaking in their office suites, crying, "Oh no-- all the angry teachers are flooding our site with thousands and thousands of views of our controversial article, which is now linked all over hell and back!" you are kidding yourself. The response to the cover story gave Time the kind of click traffic, ad revenue, and web presence that sites dream about. The challenge for them was to maximize the impact of the controversy without actually pissing anybody off who could really hurt them. It's tricky, but it has nothing to do with taking sides, pushing point of view, or taking an ideological stand. It's all about the eyeballs, and at the end of the day, Time made out just great. People who imagine that they are now sad and chastised by the show of teacher might are kidding themselves. Time is circling the bowl, hanging on to relevance by a thread (and being relevant only matters because it keeps you in the business), and for a week or so, they had the coveted spot of Thing People Are Talking About. The great cover story tempest was a win for Time.
Not that I disagree with the loud angry teacher response. I signed the petition that was eventually used as an awkward photo op, and I would do it again. But there's a reason that Randi Weingarten could publicly spank Time in a way that she is apparently unwilling to do with the far more threatening and dangerous Andrew Cuomo-- because Time didn't really mind the petition thing at all. That piece of performance art got the magazine one more day of a free spot in the news cycle.
There was no way that Time's odious cover could go unanswered, just as sometimes you have to ignore the internet wisdom of Don't Feed the Trolls. The rest of the world was watching, and if teachers had let the whole business go by unremarked, it would have hurt in the broader community of opinion. Sometimes you can't let people jerk you around in front of an audience. But we should not pretend that we have just slain a dragon when we just fed it a side of beef and sent it back to nap.
We can do better.
People have a terrible addiction to the Narrative of Overwhelming Righteous Outrage. In their heads, they envision really letting the opposition have it, unleashing righteous rage so great that the opponent falls to his knees and cries out, "Oh lordy I have been so wrong! I repent. The power of your shining words turn my eyes into my soul and there I see such yuckiness that I feel terrible, and want to make things right by doing as you say and confess my wrongness before the world!" This is really satisfying inside your head, and it happens exactly never in the real world.
In the real world, it works differently. And I am sad to tell you that one group that gets it is TFA. Some people were upset that part of TFA's leaked rapid response memo discussed building relationships with certain media outlets. But that's pretty much how it works. Journalists and media people are just like everyone else-- they like dealing with people they know and understand, even trust. Having a relationship with a journalist does not necessarily mean she'll just run whatever you hand her (though there are such relationships built on a currency of money or access). But it does mean that you'll be heard, and it can mean that when the journalist needs a spokesperson for a particular point of view, she'll think to call you.
Journalists have a job to do, and some of them do it pretty well, some do the best they can, and some kind of suck. They have editors to keep happy and a need for sources of information and material that they can feed their editor so that their editor can go collect eyeballs. Anybody who wants to foster relationships with journalists will do better with "I can help you collect some eyeballs" than with "Bend before my awesome wrath!"
This is a tricky dance. There's a fine, fine line between "I've put something together to make covering this easier for you" and "I was hoping you would just work as our unquestioning PR flack in the press." Therefor, relationships. The greatest interviewers have the ability to build an instant relationship with their subjects. News subjects who get lots of good press often turn out to have that same ability. Rich and powerful media people have lots of rich and powerful friends; those relationships are in the mix as well, and it's complicated because you don't believe your friends because they pay you to, but because they're your friends, and you like and trust them.You share a world view, and that world view colors what you see as True.
The best path to becoming a Recognized Spokesperson for A Group is to travel with your own large reserve of eyeballs. That is how Ann Coulter and the Kardashians get to be Famous-- they have collected a vast army of eyeballs that they bring with them to whatever media outlet they grace with their presence. Justin Bieber stopped appearing on magazine covers not because editors decided they didn't like him, but because his covers stopped collecting eyeballs.
Do editors and journalists sometimes throw agendas around because they just want to? Sure. There's certainly something attractive about being a Very Rich Guy and using that wealth to build a media empire with which to foist your ideas on the world. But even war-manufacturing William Randolph Hearst kept his eye on those circulation numbers and his status in the halls of power. I can't think of a single example of a media outlet choosing principle over business, even if it meant going broke. Even Fox will drop people who are ideologically pure if they can't bring the eyeballs or maintain stature any more (looking at you, Palin and Beck). Yes, we have the inspiring stories of journalists who stood up for What Was Right, wielding their Davidian pens against powerful Goliaths. Those stories are rare and celebrated because they aren't the norm.
So in teachers vs. Time, taking our eyeballs and going home after telling Time why we were doing it = excellent plan. Encouraging everybody to click their eyeballs on over to reread the article and then again to read all the responses = not so effective. Calling the writer names (even after it turned out she's actually married to a teacher) = not a great plan. Talking to her so that she knows she has some new education contacts next time = good plan. Expressing honest outrage and sharing information from our side (aka reality) = useful means of educating journalists. Trying to punch them in their metaphorical nose because they didn't already know these things = not so useful. Time is small potatoes these days; only a couple million subscribers and fairly tiny number of single copy buyers. But we'll be more prepared the next time this sort of thing inevitably happens.
The media like a good story. Some media like the same basic story over and over again. And some media like a good story so much they'll not let facts get in the way. It helps anyone who deals with media to remember that they have a job to do-- and that job is gather eyeballs.
Meanwhile, one last point-- as we often note with our own students, rewards can be better motivation than punishment. During this same time frame both Forbes and The Atlantic published articles that did a much better job of capturing some True Things about the battle for US public education. We should all make certain that we do our part to make those pieces successful. Reading, liking, saving, sharing-- in other words, making good use of our eyeballs-- can show editors and publishers that a more accurate and true depiction of the issues will draw a nice sized crowd. It's not an epic, cathartic battle, but it's still a win-win.
There are several chunks of experience that factor into my views of media. I've been a weekly newspaper columnist for almost sixteen years. I was the media "face" of my striking union a little over a decade ago. I teach journalism sometimes, and I have friends and former students in the business.
So I think there are some mistakes that people pretty routinely make when they think about, or deal with, media.
People grossly over-estimate media's investment in a particular point of view. While people may believe that a media outlet is deeply committed to a pro-mugwump or anti-ooblek position, mostly what media are deeply committed to is eyeballs. Lots and lots of eyeballs. Following close behind the eyeball commitment is a commitment to maintaining stature-- which is important because it helps attract eyeballs. If people don't believe you know what you're talking about, they won't come when you call. So, eyeballs.
Media make money by collecting eyeballs and then selling access to those eyeballs. That's the business model. The two big shifts of that model in the last few decades are 1) huge competition for the eyeballs and 2) moving from targets of "enough money to keep lights on" to "enough money for a second Lexus and a vacation home in Spain for the top brass."
With my newspaper gig, I periodically get Letters to the Editor taking me to task for one thing or another (the rule of op-ed is that if I compare, say, a political office to a herd of confused rhinos, I will get nothing from the office and several letters from angry rhino fans). People sometimes ask, "Boy, was your editor upset that Grumpy McSpewsalot chewed you out yesterday." The answer is that no, my editor is actually delighted, because the commotion will sell papers.
However, don't overestimate the excitement of selling single copies. At its 2005 peak, advertising revenue was 82% of total revenue for a newspaper. Today advertising accounts for about 69% of revenue for traditional news media. Subscriptions are great because they represent pre-commited eyeballs. And advertising revenue is driven by the number of eyeballs, which means that media want to get a high number of eyeballs, even if those eyeballs aren't actually paying to see the media.
That's why "I'm cancelling my subscription (and reducing your circulation numbers)" is far more compelling than "I'm not going to buy this at the newsstand."
The internet has both simplified and complicated the picture. Paper copies are hard to really track, but the internet knows exactly how many times you clicked on that picture of Kim Kardashian's boobalicious dress, you naughty boy. If you're tired of reading about Ann Coulter, stop reading about Ann Coulter. She may be full of crap, and there may be few people who take her seriously, but she is reliable click bait.
The internet is perfect democracy, perfect free market in action. And every click is a vote for what you would like to see more of. And every mention of something gives it more presence in the giant google bowl o' internet fun. See, when I refuse to use She Who Will Not Be Named's name, or post links to certain odious websites, it's not just pique. I'm doing my teensy part to give those things less presence on the interwebs.
So if you think for one minute that Time's editorial board was shaking in their office suites, crying, "Oh no-- all the angry teachers are flooding our site with thousands and thousands of views of our controversial article, which is now linked all over hell and back!" you are kidding yourself. The response to the cover story gave Time the kind of click traffic, ad revenue, and web presence that sites dream about. The challenge for them was to maximize the impact of the controversy without actually pissing anybody off who could really hurt them. It's tricky, but it has nothing to do with taking sides, pushing point of view, or taking an ideological stand. It's all about the eyeballs, and at the end of the day, Time made out just great. People who imagine that they are now sad and chastised by the show of teacher might are kidding themselves. Time is circling the bowl, hanging on to relevance by a thread (and being relevant only matters because it keeps you in the business), and for a week or so, they had the coveted spot of Thing People Are Talking About. The great cover story tempest was a win for Time.
Not that I disagree with the loud angry teacher response. I signed the petition that was eventually used as an awkward photo op, and I would do it again. But there's a reason that Randi Weingarten could publicly spank Time in a way that she is apparently unwilling to do with the far more threatening and dangerous Andrew Cuomo-- because Time didn't really mind the petition thing at all. That piece of performance art got the magazine one more day of a free spot in the news cycle.
There was no way that Time's odious cover could go unanswered, just as sometimes you have to ignore the internet wisdom of Don't Feed the Trolls. The rest of the world was watching, and if teachers had let the whole business go by unremarked, it would have hurt in the broader community of opinion. Sometimes you can't let people jerk you around in front of an audience. But we should not pretend that we have just slain a dragon when we just fed it a side of beef and sent it back to nap.
We can do better.
People have a terrible addiction to the Narrative of Overwhelming Righteous Outrage. In their heads, they envision really letting the opposition have it, unleashing righteous rage so great that the opponent falls to his knees and cries out, "Oh lordy I have been so wrong! I repent. The power of your shining words turn my eyes into my soul and there I see such yuckiness that I feel terrible, and want to make things right by doing as you say and confess my wrongness before the world!" This is really satisfying inside your head, and it happens exactly never in the real world.
In the real world, it works differently. And I am sad to tell you that one group that gets it is TFA. Some people were upset that part of TFA's leaked rapid response memo discussed building relationships with certain media outlets. But that's pretty much how it works. Journalists and media people are just like everyone else-- they like dealing with people they know and understand, even trust. Having a relationship with a journalist does not necessarily mean she'll just run whatever you hand her (though there are such relationships built on a currency of money or access). But it does mean that you'll be heard, and it can mean that when the journalist needs a spokesperson for a particular point of view, she'll think to call you.
Journalists have a job to do, and some of them do it pretty well, some do the best they can, and some kind of suck. They have editors to keep happy and a need for sources of information and material that they can feed their editor so that their editor can go collect eyeballs. Anybody who wants to foster relationships with journalists will do better with "I can help you collect some eyeballs" than with "Bend before my awesome wrath!"
This is a tricky dance. There's a fine, fine line between "I've put something together to make covering this easier for you" and "I was hoping you would just work as our unquestioning PR flack in the press." Therefor, relationships. The greatest interviewers have the ability to build an instant relationship with their subjects. News subjects who get lots of good press often turn out to have that same ability. Rich and powerful media people have lots of rich and powerful friends; those relationships are in the mix as well, and it's complicated because you don't believe your friends because they pay you to, but because they're your friends, and you like and trust them.You share a world view, and that world view colors what you see as True.
The best path to becoming a Recognized Spokesperson for A Group is to travel with your own large reserve of eyeballs. That is how Ann Coulter and the Kardashians get to be Famous-- they have collected a vast army of eyeballs that they bring with them to whatever media outlet they grace with their presence. Justin Bieber stopped appearing on magazine covers not because editors decided they didn't like him, but because his covers stopped collecting eyeballs.
Do editors and journalists sometimes throw agendas around because they just want to? Sure. There's certainly something attractive about being a Very Rich Guy and using that wealth to build a media empire with which to foist your ideas on the world. But even war-manufacturing William Randolph Hearst kept his eye on those circulation numbers and his status in the halls of power. I can't think of a single example of a media outlet choosing principle over business, even if it meant going broke. Even Fox will drop people who are ideologically pure if they can't bring the eyeballs or maintain stature any more (looking at you, Palin and Beck). Yes, we have the inspiring stories of journalists who stood up for What Was Right, wielding their Davidian pens against powerful Goliaths. Those stories are rare and celebrated because they aren't the norm.
So in teachers vs. Time, taking our eyeballs and going home after telling Time why we were doing it = excellent plan. Encouraging everybody to click their eyeballs on over to reread the article and then again to read all the responses = not so effective. Calling the writer names (even after it turned out she's actually married to a teacher) = not a great plan. Talking to her so that she knows she has some new education contacts next time = good plan. Expressing honest outrage and sharing information from our side (aka reality) = useful means of educating journalists. Trying to punch them in their metaphorical nose because they didn't already know these things = not so useful. Time is small potatoes these days; only a couple million subscribers and fairly tiny number of single copy buyers. But we'll be more prepared the next time this sort of thing inevitably happens.
The media like a good story. Some media like the same basic story over and over again. And some media like a good story so much they'll not let facts get in the way. It helps anyone who deals with media to remember that they have a job to do-- and that job is gather eyeballs.
Meanwhile, one last point-- as we often note with our own students, rewards can be better motivation than punishment. During this same time frame both Forbes and The Atlantic published articles that did a much better job of capturing some True Things about the battle for US public education. We should all make certain that we do our part to make those pieces successful. Reading, liking, saving, sharing-- in other words, making good use of our eyeballs-- can show editors and publishers that a more accurate and true depiction of the issues will draw a nice sized crowd. It's not an epic, cathartic battle, but it's still a win-win.
Maybe DC Dems Should Just Shut Up
For the love of God, Washington Democrats. Many's the time I've tried to defend you to my conservative friends and family, but sometimes you seem so hell-bent on acting like cartoon Democrats, you make it nearly impossible.
This week, the President went to Rhode Island and said this:
The now-infamous quote is “Sometimes, someone, usually mom, leaves the workplace to stay home with the kids, which then leaves her earning a lower wage for the rest of her life as a result. And that’s not a choice we want Americans to make. So let’s make this happen: By the end of this decade, let’s enroll 6 million children in high-quality preschool, and let’s make sure that we are making America stronger.”
Maybe that's a verbal fumble. Maybe he wanted to say that he didn't want women to have to make that choice. But the six million preschool enrollees line kinda makes that unlikely. (It also represents a jump up from the 2.2 million that he previously wanted to hit by decade's end.)
In that case, there's no good way to spin this. It could mean that the President thinks preschool programs can do a better job of raising kids than mom, or that making money is more important work than staying at home with the kids. It could mean-- no, sorry, there's just no way to spin this that isn't a slap in the face for stay-at-home moms.
This pairs up badly with comments like Arne Duncan's June 2014 observation that Hispanic families suffer from a "cultural hesitation" about putting their kids in preschool. "Sometimes you have a cultural piece where people are scared to put their kids in more formal care and they prefer, you know, to do the grandmother, the neighbor, whatever," said Arne. Yes, those crazy people wanting to keep their small children in the care of immediate family. What the hell are they thinking?
In that same clusterfarfenugen, HHS Secretary Kathy Sibelius observed that "pre-school could make Hispanic children 'culturally comfortable' with entering public schools as kindergartners." So remember boys and girls-- the school is not there to serve and adjust to you and your culture. Instead, you need to be properly assimilated.
If administration members and supporters wonder why folks on the hard right keep blathering about crazy commie plans to separate children from their parents as quickly as possible for government indoctrination, it could be because administration figures keep saying things that make it sound as if that's exactly what they want to do!
The GOP suffers from many loud voices that seem to have lost all contact with traditional conservative values in their pursuit of electoral wingnuttery. But many leading Democrats have also lost all contact with traditional Democratic values. This feeds the cycle of strident argument because these days, it's not even necessary to create a straw man version of the opposing side because somebody on that side is already acting far worse than the straw man you were about to manufacture.
So if the administration does not really believe that it knows better how to raise small children than their own parents, they should choose their words and their policies more carefully. If they do actually believe that government knows best, then they deserve every accusation of being over-controlling, meddling, nanny-statists that they get.
This week, the President went to Rhode Island and said this:
The now-infamous quote is “Sometimes, someone, usually mom, leaves the workplace to stay home with the kids, which then leaves her earning a lower wage for the rest of her life as a result. And that’s not a choice we want Americans to make. So let’s make this happen: By the end of this decade, let’s enroll 6 million children in high-quality preschool, and let’s make sure that we are making America stronger.”
Maybe that's a verbal fumble. Maybe he wanted to say that he didn't want women to have to make that choice. But the six million preschool enrollees line kinda makes that unlikely. (It also represents a jump up from the 2.2 million that he previously wanted to hit by decade's end.)
In that case, there's no good way to spin this. It could mean that the President thinks preschool programs can do a better job of raising kids than mom, or that making money is more important work than staying at home with the kids. It could mean-- no, sorry, there's just no way to spin this that isn't a slap in the face for stay-at-home moms.
This pairs up badly with comments like Arne Duncan's June 2014 observation that Hispanic families suffer from a "cultural hesitation" about putting their kids in preschool. "Sometimes you have a cultural piece where people are scared to put their kids in more formal care and they prefer, you know, to do the grandmother, the neighbor, whatever," said Arne. Yes, those crazy people wanting to keep their small children in the care of immediate family. What the hell are they thinking?
In that same clusterfarfenugen, HHS Secretary Kathy Sibelius observed that "pre-school could make Hispanic children 'culturally comfortable' with entering public schools as kindergartners." So remember boys and girls-- the school is not there to serve and adjust to you and your culture. Instead, you need to be properly assimilated.
If administration members and supporters wonder why folks on the hard right keep blathering about crazy commie plans to separate children from their parents as quickly as possible for government indoctrination, it could be because administration figures keep saying things that make it sound as if that's exactly what they want to do!
The GOP suffers from many loud voices that seem to have lost all contact with traditional conservative values in their pursuit of electoral wingnuttery. But many leading Democrats have also lost all contact with traditional Democratic values. This feeds the cycle of strident argument because these days, it's not even necessary to create a straw man version of the opposing side because somebody on that side is already acting far worse than the straw man you were about to manufacture.
So if the administration does not really believe that it knows better how to raise small children than their own parents, they should choose their words and their policies more carefully. If they do actually believe that government knows best, then they deserve every accusation of being over-controlling, meddling, nanny-statists that they get.
So Sorry, Minneapolis Teachers
As promised, this morning brought the publishing of teacher ratings, including VAM scores, with a map and a pearl-clutching interview with the district's superintendent. The gap is shocking, alarming, inexplicable.
I'm speaking of course of the apparent gap between Superintendent Bernadeia Johnson's brain and reality. How does somebody with this gigantic an inability to process data end up as a superintendent of a major school system?
Superintendent Johnson is shocked-- shocked!!-- to find that under this evaluation system, it turns out that all the worst teachers are working in all the poorest schools! Hmmm-- the poorest schools have the worst results. What's the only possible explanation? Teachers!! [Pause for the sound of me banging my head on the desk.]
“It’s alarming that it took this to understand where teachers are,” Superintendent Bernadeia Johnson said Friday. “We probably knew that, but now have the hard evidence. It made me think about how we need to change our staffing and retention.”
No, Superintendent Johnson. What's alarming is that you don't understand a damn thing.
Here's what you have "discovered." If you rip the roof off a classroom, the teachers that you send to teach in that classroom will get wet when it rains. You cannot "fix" that by changing the teacher.
But apparently that's the solution being considered. "Okay," says Superintendent Johnson. "Over here we have teachers who stay dry and their students stay dry, so we'll put this dry teacher in the classroom without a roof and have a dry teacher for the wet rooms. That'll fix it."
And Superintendent Johnson appears willing to go further. "Maybe we just need to fire the wet teachers and replace them with new, dry ones," she may be thinking. [Sound of me banging my head against the concrete slab of my basement floor.]
If you want a dry teacher in the room, build a damn roof on it.
Look. Look look look look look. We already know that poverty absolutely correlates with test results. Show me your tests results and I will show you where your low-income students are. Poverty and lack of resources and underfunding put these students in a classroom without a roof, and anybody you put in there with them will be a wet teacher.
Build a damn roof.
Minneapolis public school officials say they are already taking immediate action to balance schools’ needs with teachers’ abilities. The district has created programs to encourage effective instructors to teach at high-needs schools and mentor the newest teachers. District officials say they are providing immediate training for teachers who are deficient. And last year, the district fired more than 200 teachers, roughly 6 percent of its teaching staff.
Wrong. All wrong. In fact, worse than wrong, because you are now in the position of saying, "Hey, over here we have a room with no roof on it, and if you teach in there and get wet when it rains, we intend to punish you. Now-- who wants to volunteer to teach in the roofless room?? Also, we'll probably smear your good name in the local paper, too. Any takers?"
And to the students, sitting in that roofless room day after day, shivering and wet as poverty and lack of resources and insufficient materials and neglect by the central office rain down on them, this sends a terrible message. "We know you are sick and wet in your roofless room," says the district. "So we are not sending a roof or even ponchos or an umbrella. We're not going to spend a cent more on you. We're just going to stand a different teacher up in front of you, to see if she gets wet when it rains."
It is absolutely mind-boggling that a group of presumably educated allegedly intelligent adults can look at data and get the interpretation of it exactly completely backwards. Minneapolis school leaders are looking at data that tells them exactly where they need to focus resources, support, funding, and build a roof. Instead, they are going to blame the whole complex of information on teachers.
They are going to blame teachers for getting wet in the rain.
I'm so sorry Minneapolis teachers. Apparently you work for dopes, and given the publishing of your ratings in the morning paper, fairly malicious dopes at that.
This is the worst. This is the absolute worst version of reformster foolishness, slandering and upending an entire city's worth of teachers. I don't know any Minneapolis teachers, have never met any, but even sight unseen, I know they-- and their students-- deserve better than this.
I'm speaking of course of the apparent gap between Superintendent Bernadeia Johnson's brain and reality. How does somebody with this gigantic an inability to process data end up as a superintendent of a major school system?
Superintendent Johnson is shocked-- shocked!!-- to find that under this evaluation system, it turns out that all the worst teachers are working in all the poorest schools! Hmmm-- the poorest schools have the worst results. What's the only possible explanation? Teachers!! [Pause for the sound of me banging my head on the desk.]
“It’s alarming that it took this to understand where teachers are,” Superintendent Bernadeia Johnson said Friday. “We probably knew that, but now have the hard evidence. It made me think about how we need to change our staffing and retention.”
No, Superintendent Johnson. What's alarming is that you don't understand a damn thing.
Here's what you have "discovered." If you rip the roof off a classroom, the teachers that you send to teach in that classroom will get wet when it rains. You cannot "fix" that by changing the teacher.
But apparently that's the solution being considered. "Okay," says Superintendent Johnson. "Over here we have teachers who stay dry and their students stay dry, so we'll put this dry teacher in the classroom without a roof and have a dry teacher for the wet rooms. That'll fix it."
And Superintendent Johnson appears willing to go further. "Maybe we just need to fire the wet teachers and replace them with new, dry ones," she may be thinking. [Sound of me banging my head against the concrete slab of my basement floor.]
If you want a dry teacher in the room, build a damn roof on it.
Look. Look look look look look. We already know that poverty absolutely correlates with test results. Show me your tests results and I will show you where your low-income students are. Poverty and lack of resources and underfunding put these students in a classroom without a roof, and anybody you put in there with them will be a wet teacher.
Build a damn roof.
Minneapolis public school officials say they are already taking immediate action to balance schools’ needs with teachers’ abilities. The district has created programs to encourage effective instructors to teach at high-needs schools and mentor the newest teachers. District officials say they are providing immediate training for teachers who are deficient. And last year, the district fired more than 200 teachers, roughly 6 percent of its teaching staff.
Wrong. All wrong. In fact, worse than wrong, because you are now in the position of saying, "Hey, over here we have a room with no roof on it, and if you teach in there and get wet when it rains, we intend to punish you. Now-- who wants to volunteer to teach in the roofless room?? Also, we'll probably smear your good name in the local paper, too. Any takers?"
And to the students, sitting in that roofless room day after day, shivering and wet as poverty and lack of resources and insufficient materials and neglect by the central office rain down on them, this sends a terrible message. "We know you are sick and wet in your roofless room," says the district. "So we are not sending a roof or even ponchos or an umbrella. We're not going to spend a cent more on you. We're just going to stand a different teacher up in front of you, to see if she gets wet when it rains."
It is absolutely mind-boggling that a group of presumably educated allegedly intelligent adults can look at data and get the interpretation of it exactly completely backwards. Minneapolis school leaders are looking at data that tells them exactly where they need to focus resources, support, funding, and build a roof. Instead, they are going to blame the whole complex of information on teachers.
They are going to blame teachers for getting wet in the rain.
I'm so sorry Minneapolis teachers. Apparently you work for dopes, and given the publishing of your ratings in the morning paper, fairly malicious dopes at that.
This is the worst. This is the absolute worst version of reformster foolishness, slandering and upending an entire city's worth of teachers. I don't know any Minneapolis teachers, have never met any, but even sight unseen, I know they-- and their students-- deserve better than this.
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