The Word Charters Leave Out

The sales pitch, in various versions, pops up every time charter cheerleaders are pushing charters as the Big Solution in education.

"We know how to educate poor minority students."

The implication, of course, is that public schools don't know how to get the job done. The use of civil rights rhetoric further pushes the idea that charters can rescue non-wealthy, non-white students from a public school system that either can't or won't provide them with the education they need and deserve.

The problem with this assertion, however, is the words that charter fans invariably omit from the pitch.

The word is "some."

As in, "We know how to educate some poor minority students."

And that's a problem. That single word is the difference between a pitch that makes compelling sense and one that is simply a pack of weasel words. Let me tell you why.

First, some stipulations:

I'm going to skip for the moment my usual objections that the measures being used to determine whether a school is successful or not are grade-A useless baloney. Let's just pretend for the moment that we know how to measure student success.

And we can also insert my usual disclaimer here that not all charters are problematic, and particularly back before the rise of the modern investment-driven hedge-fundie charters, there have been charters that have truly added to the public education landscape. So I don't automatically hate charter schools.

I'm also going to acknowledge right up front that we have many schools and school districts that are not doing right by non-wealthy non-white students. That problem is real, and I am not going to pretend for a moment that if we just make modern charter schools go away, things will automatically be both hunky and dory.

So, what is the problem with--

We know how to educate some poor minority students

Problem #1: That is not the gig.

The public education gig is to educate all students. All. Students. Not some, not a few, but all. One of my objections to the rise of the modern charter is that it's a quiet re-write of the public education mission-- let's stop trying to educate everyone and just focus on the chosen few, and put Those Children in the underfunded holding pen that we'll call public school.

Some charter fans are open and honest about this; Mike Petrilli has noted that a charter mission should be to give "strivers" a place to get away from Those Other Students. But other charter fans deliberately obscure their omission of "some" and tout their ability to get good results with a few students as a sign that they know something that public schools do not.

Problem #2: This is not news.

I think this is one of the things about modern charters that absolutely drives public school teachers nuts. Charters want to claim that because they can achieve success with a small, select sample of students, they Know Something About Education. Dude, those of us in public education have known since forever that if we were free to pick and choose our students and could just get rid of the ones who don't want to learn the way we want to teach, we would look like education rock stars. Everyone knows that.

So when Boston charters start talking about their awesome results without also talking about their awesome attrition (and non-backfill) rates. When your charter system can point to a grand total of fifteen black males who went on to graduate from college, you are not showing us anything that public schools couldn't quickly and easily replicate-- if we were allowed to change the nature of the gig (see problem #1).

Bottom line

Some charters cream, deliberately, as a matter of policy (like these charters in California that got caught). Some cream more organically by targeting particular parts of the market with their advertising, and of course all charters self-select for families that are more involved in their child's education (and ask any public school teacher how schools would change if we had only the students of families that cared about education).

And we don't talk enough about the importance of the no-backfill rules in operation in many charter markets, guaranteeing that no new students ever come in in the middle of a multi-year program. Again- we already know that no-backfill would work, but that's not the public education gig.

There are charter fans who know better. Chris Barbic left the Tennessee Achievement School District noting that it's hard to raise the success rate of schools when you have to keep all the students that live in that school's community.

Anybody can do a good job of educating some students. Modern charter advocates should stop pretending they have invented the wheel. And if they really want to be honest, they can start using that one simple word-- some.

CA: Court Rejects Test-based Teacher Eval

While astro-turf group Students Matter, a front for the reformster activism of Very Rich Man David Welch, is most famous for concocting and then losing the Vergara case, they have been trying to skin the reformy cat with other knife-like lawsuits as well.

With Doe v. Antioch, Welch's group set out to compel thirteen California districts to include Big Standardized Test results in teacher evaluations. To do so, they dragged out the Stull Act (a law old enough to have been signed by Governor Ronald Reagan). The law (also amended in 1999) was supposed to require districts to base teacher evaluations on student test scores-- but it has the words "reasonably relate" which are, depending on your point of view, a necessary bit of slack to allow schools to handle the problem of alllllll those teachers who don't teach tested subjects (how exactly do you tie the evaluation of your phys ed teacher to the results of a math and reading test).

School districts have made use of that wiggle room, and reformsters have periodically waxed cranky over the wiggling.

We have actually been down this Via del Lawsuit before-- back in 2010 Doe v. Deasy was filed in Los Angeles by EdVoice, the group used as a front by Eli Broad, Reed Hastings and Richard Merkin. The case dragged on for a while and ended in a sort of draw, with reformsters and the teachers union each getting a little bit of what they wanted-- the district could include test scores, but would have to negotiate with the union about how much the tests would count.

So Welch and his crew went back to the court to see if they couldn't do better with some Bay Area districts.

The answer was no, no they couldn't. 

You can read the forty-page decision here, but Contra Costa County Superior Court Judge Barry Goode essentially determined that the law does not clearly say what Welch's group says it clearly says. While it says that districts must do some assessy things with students and some evaluaty things with teachers, the twain are not clearly required to meet.

The statutory language is not crystalline. It does not say (as Petitioners might prefer) “each school district shall assess each teacher, in part, based on the scores his or her pupils achieve on state adopted criterion referenced assessments.” Nor does it say (as Respondents might prefer) “each school district shall assess each teacher, in part, based on how he or she uses the scores of his or her pupils on state adopted criterion referenced assessments.”

Goode also digs through the history of the act and its four different sets of amendments (1975, 1983, 1995, 1999) to see what legislative discussion might shed light on the law's intent, and he again finds nothing to indicate that testing and teacher evals were meant to be inextricably linked.

In other words, he considers what the law doesn't say as important as what it does say. Goode rather charmingly puts it this way:

That is something of a “dog that did not bark.” If the Legislature were to have changed, so dramatically, the rules for the evaluation of teachers (as Petitioners argue), then the committee or floor analyses would likely have apprised members of that. Indeed, given the controversy over standardized tests, one would expect there to have been considerable debate and public discussion of such a change.

Goode hears no barking dog, and the barking of Welch's legal team is not enough to convince him, though bark they do:

Marcellus McRae and Joshua S. Lipshutz, the lead attorneys for the Doe v. Antioch petitioners, which included both California teachers and parents, issued a statement blasting Goode’s ruling. “A teacher evaluation that ignores student learning is a farce that serves neither students nor teachers,” they declared. “The decision ignores this basic and indisputable logic and renders the Stull Act meaningless.”

Probability that the decision will be appealed seems high.

Their complaint is, of course, bogus. Well, no, that's not quite right-- a teacher evaluation that ignores student learning is a farce that serves nobody, and when your teacher evaluation is based on bad data gleaned from bad tests, that is exactly what you have. Their presumption that BS Tests scores are valid measures of student learning-- that's the bogus, unsupportable baloney part. That, however, is beside the point in this case.

But in the meantime, the lawsuit demonstrates once again the danger of filing a lawsuit in hopes of "clarifying" a law-- sometimes it turns out to clearly mean something different than what you hoped for. For the moment, no school district in California is required to make student scores in the Big Standardized Test a major part of teacher evaluations.

Wells Fargo and Making Your Numbers

As you've probably heard by now, Wells Fargo got caught building its financial strength by a technique known variously as lying, fraud, or just making shit up. Low level employees created a bunch of fake accounts linked to actual humans who had no idea their financial matters were becoming messier by the minute. At the end of the day, 5,300 low-level employees were fired, and nobody who was responsible for those employees suffered the slightest penalty.

So what does this have to do with education?

Well, first, it's one more occasion to invite those who insist that teachers should have to face accountability measures "just like they do in the real world"-- well, those folks can just shut up. The accountability faced by executives like CEO John Stumpf was exactly zero. As Elizabeth Warren, in her highest dudgeon, dragged out of him, the entire sorry episode didn't cost him a penny and didn't cost a single high-level executive their job. This is the same "real world" accountability faced by the guys who messed up Enron and tanked the world economy in 2008-- absolutely none at all.

But mostly it's a pretty stark example of what can happen when an organization becomes focused on making its numbers.

Considerable pressure was put on front line employees to make their numbers, and employees who tried to call attention to how the business was being warped by its perverse incentives were soundly spanked and, in some cases, ruined.  

When you install shortcut proxies for actual success, and you create very high stakes around those numbers, you completely change the nature and purpose of the institution. Wells Fargo didn't just cheat and defraud customers as a matter of policy; they transformed the very nature of the company from a business built on providing customer service  to a business built on making numbers. Customers were no longer people to be served, but resources to be tricked and defrauded into providing the company what it needed keep its stock rising and its executives fat and happy.

This is Campbell's law in action-- when you use a too-simple number as a measure of a complicated network of relationships and goals in an organization, you completely twist and ultimate warp the very nature of the things you are trying to measure. When you create do-or-die goals that are impossible to meet legitimately, you corrupt the organization and make cheating the preferred culture of the institution. Those who won't cheat, who won't do whatever it takes to make their numbers, are driven out. What did the data on new accounts and instruments tell executives about how employees were doing their jobs? Nothing. Nothing at all.

Bad data plus incentivization with high stakes equals disastrous mess.

It is easy to think, "Well, even if the data numbers don't exactly precisely show us what we want to see, well, at least their something, and something is better than nothing, right?" But the Wells Fargo fiasco is a reminder that chasing bad data results is not harm-neutral. And scores or simple numbers are always bad data, because to simplify complex information to a simple number or two always means losing the full picture. It's trying to judge the health of the jungle by weighing elephant toenail clippings-- you'll always be looking at a warped and limited picture, and so trying to make your numbers will always screw up your whole system.

You can argue that Wells Fargo executives are money-hungry greed-hounds, and that's what created the problems. It certainly greased the skids, but the mechanism that caused the entire organization to lose its way is the pursuit of bad numbers.

Using this kind of bad data is a lie. Saying "If our employees are selling more of this product, we are fulfilling our service mission as a bank is a lie." Saying "If students are getting higher scores on the Big Standardized Test, then they are getting a great education and our schools are thriving" is a lie. And when you base your mission and your critical relationships on a lie, destruction follows.

Grade Inflation?

Mike Petrilli (Fordham) is concerned about grade inflation.

His concern, as expressed in a recent piece at Education Next, is hung on the hook of a recent-ish survey by Learning Heroes, a new group sponsored by the same old folks (Gates Foundation, Bloomberg Philanthropies, Helmsley) that has partnered with some other outfits funded by the same people, like Great Schools (funded by Gates, Bloomberg, Helmsley, Walton) to help sell the notion that Big Standardized Testing is Really Important and we should care about it.

The Learning Heroes survey found that 90 percent of parents believe their child is performing at grade level or better. As you might expect, I don't put a lot of stock in what Learning Heroes have to say, but I can believe that their finding on this point is not far off the mark. Setting aside the construct of "grade level" (as Petrilli also does), I'm not sure that this finding doesn't say more about parental love than parental academic acumen. Sometimes we lose sight of how a poll actually works, but I ask you to imagine for a minute-- a stranger calls you on the phone and asks you to say how smart and accomplished your child is. What do you say? "Yeah, my kids kind of slow and behind," probably isn't it.

But for Petrilli, this feeds into a narrative that reformsters have been pushing for over a decade-- the public schools are lying to parents about what is being accomplished.

Providing a more honest assessment of student performance was one of the goals of the Common Core initiative and the new tests created by states that are meant to align to the new, higher standards.

That's Petrilli's polite way of putting it. Arne Duncan, you will recall, said that white suburban moms were going to be upset to find out their kids weren't as smart as they thought. At one point reformsters were trying to sell us the Honesty Gap, a method of crunching numbers to determine just how much your state education system was lying to you. This has been the recurring narrative-- your teachers, your schools, even your state, has been lying to you about how well your kids are doing, and only federally crafted standards backed up by Big Standardized Tests can tell you the truth.

Pertrilli is no dope; he understands the challenge here for testing industry salespersons

Conscientious parents are constantly getting feedback about the academic performance of their children, almost all of it from teachers. We see worksheets and papers marked up on a daily or weekly basis; we receive report cards every quarter; and of course there’s the annual (or, if we’re lucky, semiannual) parent-teacher conference. If the message from most of these data points is “your kid is doing fine!” then it’s going to be tough for a single “score report” from a distant state test administered months earlier to convince us otherwise. After all, who knows my kid better: his or her teacher, or a faceless test provider?

He dismisses the old test reports as impenetrably complex, and touts instead the new, improved PARCC reports, which a transparent in the sense that one can clearly see that they provide next to zero useful information.  But Petrilli argues that these reports soft-pedal the real results, and that we should look sixth graders in the eye and give them the cold hard truth. Nobody, he says, wants to incite a riot and "tell parents to grab a pitchfork and march down to their school demanding an explanation for lofty-yet-false grades their kids have gotten for years on end," but on the other hand, he says, "maybe they should."

This is the new pitch. Grade inflation. Petrilli has been asking folks to chime in with a possible solution to the grade inflation problem. My response, when asked, is that first I have to be convinced it exists.

Petrilli's basic argument is that grades are high and BS Test scores are low, therefor the grades must be inflated. There are several problems with his assumptions here.

1) He assumes that the Big Standardized Test is an accurate instrument for measuring student achievement. There is virtually no reason at all to believe that is true, and many many reasons, from the narrow focus to the multiple choice approach to the just-plain-lousy questions.

2) Even if we assume that, say, the PARCC is a good, solid, reliable, valid test-- which is a huge ungrounded assumption, but let's play along-- we still have to face the first hurdle, the problem of getting students to take the BS Tests seriously. We repeatedly discover that they do not.

3) Even if we assume that the BS Test is a "good" test and that the students tried their hardest on it, we still don't have any evidence that a good score on the BS Test is an indicator that the student is headed for college success and a good life thereafter. Petrilli touts the "predictive analytics" of Ohio, but all that boils down to is a way to use previous performance on a standardized test to predict future performance on a standardized test. Big whoop. When Taking Standardized Tests becomes a lucrative career option, then we may have something here.

Petrilli wants parents to understand that their kids need to "step it up" and hopes that we see a day when As and Bs are only handed to those who are on track for success. But that opens a whole other question-- are grades supposed to be a predictor of future success or a measure of current achievement?

Well, let's set all that aside for the moment and consider his main issue-- is there grade inflation happening?

My completely unscientific answer is, "Probably maybe in some places." There may well be grade inflation on the lower end of the scale, where teachers may feel pressure to make sure that too many students don't flunk their class (particularly if dealing with the kind of learning support department that demands that students with special needs be passed No Matter What). Schools that practice the business of allowing students to just keep redoing work until they pass might fall under this category, as might schools that use social promotion to move on elementary students for reasons other than academic achievement. The problem in addressing all of these cases is that we have no objective yardstick by which to measure what a student should "really" be receiving as a grade (and as much as reformsters would like PARCC, SBA, etc to be that yardstick, they fail miserably at the task).

It's a complicated problem with no easy answers, made more tricky by the fact that "grade inflation" often occurs through the mechanism of overruling the judgment of the classroom teacher. The whole topic is worthy of discussion.

Meanwhile, there is supreme irony in Petrilli's raising of the issue. We know where the most extreme and notorious grade inflation has occurred over the past few decades-- in colleges and universities. And it has occurred, arguably, because of the unleashing of market forces. College students and their families have come to see themselves as customers and are comfortable declaring, "I didn't give this school $100 grand of my money just to see Junior end up with Cs and Ds in classes that I pay for. Fix it!"

This is, of course, precisely the sort of market force that Petrilli and other charter fans want to unleash in the K-12 world, transforming families into "customers" who must be kept happy if the charter wants to avoid losing revenue. Giving families the ability to "vote with their feet" unleashes the very forces that contribute to and push for grade inflation in schools. Let's add that to the discussion. 

USED, Pay for Success and Stupid Pre-K Plans

The United States Department of (Privatizing) education is touting another boneheaded idea, this time aimed at preschool and using yet one more unproven approach-- pay for success.

What is that, exactly? Here's the explanation from the USED FAQ page:

Pay for success (PFS) is an innovative contracting and financing model that aims to test and advance promising and proven interventions while paying only for successful outcomes or impacts for families, individuals, and communities. Through a PFS project, a government (or other) entity enters into a contract with an Investor to pay for the achievement of concrete, measurable outcomes for specific people or communities. Service providers deliver interventions to achieve these outcomes. Payments, known as Outcomes Payments, are made only if the intervention achieves those outcomes agreed upon in advance. The government (or other) entity makes Outcomes Payments to repay Investors for the costs of services (and sometimes other projects costs) plus a modest return. Ideally, Outcomes Payments amount to a fraction of the short- and long-term cost savings to the government (or other) entity resulting from the successful outcomes.  

Pay for Success is the zippier nom de guerre of Social Impact Bonds. If you want my "for dummies" explanation, you can look here. If you want a grown-up's fully detailed explanation, complete with sad history, I recommend this piece by Tim Scott.

The basic idea is this. The government gets an investor to foot the bill for what's supposed to be a government program. Then if the task is completed successfully for less than the government had set aside to do the task, the government reimburses the investor for the program costs and as a bonus, the taxpayers' "savings" are magically transformed into the private investor's "earnings." It is this big time version of telling the babysitter, "Here's ten bucks to get supper. You can keep whatever change there is."

Let me rattle off just a quick list of why this is a dumb way to do business in the-- well, it's actually a dumb way to do just about any sort of business, but let's stick to why it's a dumb way to do business in the education sector.

1) It literally sets the interests of the contractor against the interests of the children. Every dollar that the contractor spends on children is a dollar the contractor doesn't get to keep.

2) It builds a system around doing the absolute least we can get away with. "Spend the least you can get away with," say Social Impact Bonds, "to get the lowest acceptable results." Nobody tells their children's school, "I want to know that you are spending the least money you can get away with to get the minimum acceptable education for my child."

3) If it remains in place, it guarantees that somebody is going to get screwed. Go back to the baby sitter example. I learn that the babysitter has successfully (or at least acceptably) fed my children for seven bucks. Why would I continue to hand her ten? Once we have established the cost for which the job can be done, all future negotiations will be about how much profit for her I build into my suppertime financing. If a Social Bond program were ever to succeed well enough to last longer than a year, that would put the government in the position of deciding how many taxpayer dollars the contractors would be handed as profit, and either the taxpayers or contractor gets screwed.

4) It not only encourages, but actually requires metrics for success that are simple and simplistic and completely inadequate for measuring actual success in a complex system like education.

5) It adds a not-very-helpful extra layer of bureaucracy. The investor deals with the government, and the contractor of the service deals with the investor. This creates a nice layer of plausible deniability for the government when the programs violate any rules-- kind of like when famous celebrity Chatty Talksalot hires a McCorporation to make her branded clothing, and McCorporation in turn hires subcontractors in the Third World to run a sweatshop, and then Chatty can say, "What?! I had no idea!" 

USED would like to graft this Pay for Success idea onto its terrible ideas about preschool, as captured in just one paragraph from their press release:

We should have a greater focus on evidenced-based practices, on measuring and improving outcomes for our youngest learners, and more incentives for promoting innovative approaches that promise to further improve child outcomes.

As we've seen, "evdience-based" is a meaningless weasel phrase. And as soon as we start talking about "measuring and improving outcomes" for four-year-olds, we are just plain full of it. Four years olds do not need to sit down and take a test so that their outcomes can be measured. They do not need to be run through academic based programs. They need to play. They need to explore. And they need to do it in an environment in which they are not required to demonstrate "outcomes" to officious adults.

PFS is not a substitute for government funding, but a different way of providing government funding –one based on rigorous evidence of impact once positive outcomes have been achieved. 

Baloney. There is no "rigorous evidence of impact once positive outcomes have been achieved" with four year olds (probably not with sixteen year olds, either, but let's set that aside for another day). There is no evidence base to indicate that the USED has a clue what rigorous evidence of preschool success would look like, and of course for a PFS program, it would have to look like something simple and easy to measure.

So if we tell McCorporation "We'll give you a hundred bucks for every kid who scores better than 75% on this reading test," what do you suppose the preschool program is going to look like? Not like anything that a small child actually needs to experience. This is a terrible idea for taxpayers, small children, and their families. But it's an awesome idea for investors who want to hoover up some of those sweet, sweet education tax dollars.

16 Policies for the Next President

Bellwether Education Partners, a reliably reformy right-tilted thinky tank, recently issued a compendium of policy ideas for the next President. "16 for 2016" comes with sixteen writers and sixteen ideas, though it's not entirely clear which candidates it's aimed at-- presumably not Hillary, whose contacts among the right-leaning world of corporate education privatizing are probably better than Bellwether's, and presumably not Trump, who neither takes nor comprehends advice.

Hmm. What do all these policies have in common?

So let's think of this as both a thought experiment and a look at the kind of policy ideas reformsters will be pitching to Congress, as well as a signal of the kinds of things reformy types would like to push these days. I have read this so that you don't have to, but since there are, in fact, sixteen of these things, I am going to summarize pretty brutally here.

1) Seed More Autonomous Public [sic] Schools

Sara Mead argues that we've proven that bad urban schools can't be turned around, but (citing a 2015 CREDO study) some charters do some better with some students similar to the urban poor students. So instead of trying to turn around low-performing schools, let's just open a bunch of charters to replace them. This is not so much about improving education as it is about opening markets to charter profiteers.

2) Transform School Hiring

Chad Aldeman has a point-- many schools have crappy hiring practices. He observes that it is a homegrown business, with the majority of new teachers working within twenty miles of their home town. And if you read here regularly, you already know how much I agree with this:

Despite complaints of a “teacher shortage,” districts act like the laws of supply and demand don’t apply to teachers, and they treat teachers as if they’re immune to financial incentives. 

Aldeman recommends adding performance tasks to the hiring process (something that many districts do "unofficially" by using hopefuls as substitutes before finally hiring them). Why is any of this part of recommendations on the federal level? Because some of these ideas are costly, and Aldeman suggests some federal grant incentives to help districts, particularly poor ones, do better.

3) Bring the Blockchain to Education

Oh, this dumb idea again.

Technocrats are sure that teacher professional development can be handled just like bitcoins, and that we can just plug teachers in to earn badges that show their competencies. This is a dumb idea for so many reasons, but the biggest one is that this kind of competency-based learning ignores what we know about authentic assessment. My earning of a badge doesn't measure any competency except my ability to earn badges. On top of that, these sorts of proposals (many companies are working on this model) have staggering implications as far as data privacy-- to work we need to put everything there is to know about you in a data file, and that data file needs to be open to the world, all maintained by whatever corporation manages to win market control, partnered up with the federal government. What could possibly go wrong?

4) Share the Risk of Student Loans

Andrew Kelly checks in with a new idea-- make colleges and universities share the risk on the loans their students take out. Practically, speaking, this might mean charging institutions a percentage of the outstanding balance on "non-performing" loans. This might arguably make institutions more interested in keeping their costs affordable. Kelly acknowledges that it would also give them an incentive to take very few low-income students who would be more likely to default on their loans. Colleges and universities point out that this holds them accountable for behavior completely out of their control. I'd like to point out that it would also give colleges and universities an incentive to cut programs that don't reliably lead to big loan-paying incomes.

5) Get Schools in the Fight Against Child Sex Trafficking

On the one hand, definitely. The writers are absolutely correct in saying that schools should be a safe haven for students, and that the school community is a good place to both keep a watchful eye and inform people about what to watch for. On the other hand-- hell, one more social ill that schools have to somehow fix on top of everything else. Do you suppose someone will finance this, or will it be one more unfunded mandate?

6) Scale Great Mentoring to Reach More Kids

Steve Mesler, Olympic gold medalist and  co-founder of Classroom Champions, thinks that we should have mentors out there to help every students to "persevere like an Olympian" (and he has a company to work on it). Scaling up mentoring for all kids means "a shift away from the one-on-one model" to a (surprise) computerized online techy model. There are some folks with super-cool ideas. Just give them about $90 million of grant money and they will whip this right up for you.

7) Network Early Childhood Education Providers

The Head Start "network" is not getting the best results. Let other early childhood providers network, share best practices and, of course, drive it all with data while encouraging innovation. In other words, rip the early childhood biz out of the cold. clammy hands of the feds and surrender it to the warm, friendly embrace of private corporate providers. But keep that federal money flowing.

8) Give Good Food To Kids

Local foods for local schools. A cool concept, but as acknowledged by the writers, depends on the capacity of local farmers. The writers get into a lot of the wonky bits of this, and it reminds me that the US food system is a behemoth that has been both absorbed and seriously warped by huge corporate interests; in many ways, it resembles the future that corporate interests seem to have planned for education. So while I like the idea of Farmer Jones bringing his harvest to my school cafeteria, I'd need a lot of reassurance that we're talking about anything that homey and simple.

There's also a bit here from Tom Colicchio (yes, that one) talking about putting quality over cost, which is another idea that I like except that, of course, the cost factor will be fought tooth and nail. He offers some wonky info about procurement procedures that might help.

9) Make Competitive Grants Work

Yes, sure. Also, make pigs fly out of my butt. Competitive grants are a hallmark of the Obama administration, and they work exactly as you would expect-- the rich get richer and the poor get poorer, and the rewards go to the people who are good at the grant-grubbing process, not the people who are good at education. Juliet Squire suggests that the process would be better if the feds were more clear about accountability and implementation, and if they didn't require that grant applicants propose unrealistic goals. Those are not bad ideas, but they don't address the fundamental badness of the competitive grant idea itself.

10) Build Charter Schools Like Affordable Housing

What James Wilcox means is not "build charters like crappy, poorly-maintained housing that nobody who had a choice would choose." What he means is "offer lots more tax credits to people who build charter schools." These would presumably be over and above the generous breaks offered under the New Markets Tax Credit that allows investors to double their money in seven years. Because throwing money at public schools is terrible and stupid, but throwing money at charters is awesome and smart.

11) Connect Career and Technical Education to Real Post-Secondary Opportunity 

I'm a huge fan of CTE-- while other parts of the country are trying to get it back, here in my region it never left and it has always been super-excellent education for many of my students. And any such program benefits from a high school version of a job placement program.

However, what Alex Hernandez reminds us is that there's a slim line between offering job placement services for students and turning a CTE program into a taxpayer-funded training program for specific industries and employers. Hernandez suggests that we could even go as far as apprenticey programs (we call them work release here) where students leave school and learn in the workplace. All of this is great as long as the school system maintains its commitment to the students and NOT to their future employers.

12) Provide Sector Agnostic Federal Support for Schools

Andy Smarick's argument is detailed and developed, but it boils down to one more privatizer plea for the feds to stop favoring public schools, which is pretty close to getting the feds to drop their commitment to a public school system in this country.

13) Expand Accountability in HIgher Education

This reformster argument always puzzles me, because the higher education system comes really close to their dream of a free market education system. But Michael Dannenberg loses credibility right out of the gate by citing the US News rankings. But he has an ear-worthy argument here about institutions of higher learning that have become endowment investment businesses with universities loosely attached-- and which somehow fail to reap the rewards of their funding wealth. He also scolds them for calcifying inequality rather than erasing it. He is perhaps oversimplifying (poor students fail to thrive at big time universities for reasons other than affording the education), but he has a point. Of course, part of his point is that the feds must interfere with this market and take a stronger hand in telling management how to manage and spend its money.

14) Creating Real Second Chances for At-Risk Youth

It's legit to note that some alternative schools are more holding pens for problem students than a legitimate attempt to find an alternative path to success. I'm less impressed that Gary Jones pivots from there quickly to the notion that the feds should finance more private (charter) schools to meet the need. Who exactly are we creating second chances for?

15) Give Education Power to Families

Ben Austin likes school choice. He pretends to be shocked that federal law does not explicitly note that education exists to serve the needs of children, on his way to making the old argument that schools put adult interests ahead of student interests. This is a bad argument based on a flawed premise-- public education was never about providing a service strictly for students, but about creating an American public that is educated and prepared to participate in a democracy. Students and their parents are stakeholders in the system, but so are future neighbors, employers, taxpayers, co-workers, and fellow voters. Austin would like the system to be changed so that it explicitly is all about the children and so that parents can file more lawsuits. He appears to want more Vergara's, and not ones that get reversed on appeal.

RiShawn Biddle wants more choice, because " we know that expanding school choice and empowering parents can be key to improving student achievement," which is a bold statement, a ballsy statement, a statement for which there is not a speck of evidence. Biddle wants a charter choice system, and he deploys all of the same old arguments, including all the ones that have been repeatedly debunked (waiting lists? really?).

16) Democratize Data

Aimee Rogstad Guidera is here from the Data Quality Campaign, an advocacy group for lots of folks who hope to make a bundle playing with data. She's here to argue that schools should be data mining like crazy, and using the two smoke screen arguments preferred by all the folks who want to make a mountain of money in the data mines-- parents need it, and teachers need it. This is baloney. Teachers are already prodigious collectors of data, and it is far more deep, wide, and nuanced than anything available from the  Data Overlords. Parents who want access to rich data about their children (you know-- the human beings that they have raised from birth and who live in the same house) can get ahold of the child's teacher.

Neither of the groups need the prodigious mountains of data argued for here, but talking about them is far less off-putting than saying, "If you let us collect all the data about your child, we can make a mint selling it to various other interested parties." And no-- I have no idea what it means to "democratize" data

So there you have it

Some points worth thinking about, and a whole lot of swift repackagings of the same old reformster profiteering sales pitches. As I said at the top-- Clinton already knows all of this and all Trump really wants is a tub of gasoline and a blowtorch, so I'm not sure to whom this pitch is aimed. But it's on the reformster radar, so it should be on our as well.

The Lesson of Detroit

Last week a group of children in Detroit, Michigan sued the governor, the state board of education, the superintendent of public instruction, the director of technology, management and budget, and the state school reform/redesign officer.

The lawsuit runs over 100 pages, but the table of contents provides a pretty clear outline of the argument:

1) Literacy is a fundamental right
2) The state of Michigan's role in securing educational rights (subheadings: it has one)
3) The failure to provide access to literacy in plaintiffs' schools
4) Failure to deliver evidence-based literacy instruction and intervention programs in plaintiffs' schools
5) Failure to ensure educational conditions necessary to attain literacy (including failure to provide course selection, to maintain a decent physical plant for education, to meet students' needs, to provide a supported and stable staff, and to demand accountability with charter and school closings).
6) The state's failure to implement evidence-based reforms to address literacy

The details and accounts of the state's failure is stunning, almost unimaginable, from a "lake" in a classroom cordoned off with tape to the math classes taught by an eighth grader for a month-- and that's not because nobody was paying attention, but because that was the solution the school came up with for their staffing issue.

A lot of outrage has been expressed as the lawsuit's details have spread, supported by photographs from many sources. Yesterday, columnist Nancy Kaffer tried to explain to Detroit Free Press readers what the suit was about and just how bad things are for the largely African-American student population of the five schools named in the suit. But here's the part of her piece that jumped out at me:

Detroit's traditional public school district (the former Detroit Public Schools, now the newly created Detroit Public Schools Community District) has operated under state oversight for most of the last 16 years. The schools haven't gotten better. Nor have schools removed from the old DPS and placed in the state reform district, the Educational Achievement Authority. Nor have, in aggregate, the charter schools that were supposed to offer parents better options (at the literal expense of traditional public schools) delivered on that promise. The State of Michigan played a strong hand in the creation of this three-part system, and so the suit argues that it is responsible for fixing it.

Michigan has run the entire table of reformster ideas-- takeover of the district, creation of an achievement district, and charter operators brought in to replace the publics. Detroit is now a reformy buffet. Moreover, Detroit should be a beautiful display of how well the various reformster policies work. Except that it isn't, because they don't.

Detroit is a case study in state authorities looking at a system in crisis and saying, "Let's try anything, as long as it doesn't involve actually investing money and resources in the children of Those People." Detroit has been a city in crisis for a while now, and that has allowed leaders to say, "We have a chance to fix education in this city and let some people make good money doing it. And if we can only get one of those things done, well, let's go with the money-making one."

When a crisis happens-- a hurricane hits, the bottom is ripped out of a local economic driver-- that opens up a gaping area of need in a state, officials can respond one of two ways. They can call on people of the state to rally, to provide aid and assistance to the affected communities. Or, they can try to build some sort of firewall between the affected communities and everyone else, try to insure that everyone else is protected from any effects, any cost created by the affected communities. The citizens of a state are like mountain climbers roped together and hanging onto the side of a precipice. When one loses his grip (either because of accident, weather conditions, or because he was pushed), the others can either try to haul him back up, risking trouble themselves, or they can cut the dangler loose. If they're extra cynical, they can sell the dangler an umbrella "to break his fall," and congratulate themselves on having saved him before they cut him loose.

Michigan's leaders have treated the tragedy and decline of Detroit as an opportunity to sell umbrellas. They have stripped poor non-white citizens of democratic processes, of their very voices, while stripping critical systems like education and water for parts. The ship has been sinking and Michigan's leaders have decided to fill the lifeboats with bundles of cash rather than human beings.

Michigan's leaders have had the chance to try just about anything with Detroit schools, and they have tried everything-- except actually trying. They are a rich relatively at the hospital telling the doctors taking care of their sick family member, "Do anything it takes. Well, anything that doesn't cost any more money."

I find it striking that the lawsuit uses the language of reformsters, from "educational rights" to "evidence-based," and I do hope the lawsuit has legs (similar lawsuits have not fared so well in the past). But like New Orleans, Detroit is a reminder that what some reformsters say ("Let's try creative new solutions to provide education") and what they actually do ("Let's avoid spending any money on Those People-- at least not any  that we can't at least recoup as revenue") are two different things.