RI: Foxes In The Governor's Mansion

I haven't paid much attention to Rhode Island (motto: That State Nobody Pays Much Attention To), but we should all take a look, because Rhode Island has become yet another example of the many ways that privatizers and profiteers get their hands into the cookie jar.

These frickin' people

We start with Gina Raimondo, a venture capitalist who decided to get into politics via the office of state treasurer. Her signature move in that office was to "fix" the state pension fund problem by taking an axe to it, in much the same way that you would "fix" the problem of not having enough gas to get to the hospital by deciding to drive to the house on the corner of your block instead. Also, she decided to direct a bunch of those pension funds to hedge funds of her own (generating lots of fees for the Wall Street crowd). Her play was backed by EngageRI, a dark money group that pumped $740K into a pension "reform" campaign; the donors were kept secret, though the WSJ determined that John Arnold had pumped anywhere from $100k to $500K into it. Arnold is not a resident of Rhode Island; he's just a guy who "retired" at age 38 from ENRON and went on to become a major funder of pension attacks in this country. And he has many friends.

From that promising start, she leapt into the governor's mansion in 2014, and stayed there in 2018. She's been a good friend to the charter school industry, as well as the folks on Wall Street, who kicked in big time to help finance her campaign. She ran with Cumberland Mayor Daniel McKee, a huge charter school fan as well. Raimondo called education the "number one priority" for her second term. That has included the takeover of the schools by state government, as well as draining public education funding in order to grow pet projects like an expansion of charter chains like Achievement First. The takeover of Providence schools is, by many accounts, a last ditch effort to rescue a failing district, but it puts the schools under the control of education commissioner Angelica Infante-Green, a professional bureaucrat, administrator and education disruptor whose only classroom experience is Teach for America and whose edu-boss background includes working in New York State's department under reformster John King. State takeovers have a lousy record and go badly for many reasons (including putting the schools under the control of bureaucrats with no real school experience); in this case, complaints started almost immediately that community voices were being shut out and ignored.

Rhode Island already has a friendly atmosphere for privatization. They passed a law years ago that basically lets any mayor open up charter schools run by "municipal leaders," and charter school enrollment has passed the 10,000 student mark (out of a little under 150K in the state). It's a good setting for a governor who wants to disrupt the hell out of public education. And I almost forgot to mention--she's nominally a Democrat.

But that's just the governor. Let's talk about her husband.

Andy Moffitt is yet another of those people who has collected a wide web of privatizing connections. For starters, he was law-school roommates with Cory Booker (Raimondo later tapped a Booker staffer for her own administration). Moffitt is often portrayed as a "former teacher" in the press; three guesses what his actual teaching background consists of. Yup-- another TFA-hatched education expert.

Moffitt put that expertise as an education guy at McKinsey, the globe-spanning consultant firm that has made a living privatizing all manner of things and helping cities find ways to dismantle their public systems. They've helped fund cyber schooling. They keep pushing the computerized classroom. They beat Eli Broad to the idea of embedding their own people in the LA school district. They tout data analytics. They once hired David Coleman. Read Anand Giridharadas's Winners Take All to get a feel for just how inhuman and amoral McKinsey's approach can be.

Moffitt has written a book,  too. Actually, he co-wrote it, teaming up with Michael Barber, the head of Pearson, the media company that aspires to eat all of the education world and most especially the data therein. Barber is also a McKinsey alum; the book is one of the series touting Barber's Big Idea-- Deliverology. Moffitt co-authored Deliverology 101: A Field Guide for Education Leaders. Deliverology is a technocratic, arrogant, hubris-infused, data-worshipping nightmare of a management system. I am not going to read the book for you; just the table of contents is enough to convey how little it has to do with actual education and how much it has to do with turning a school into a data-generating algorithm-directed system that values things like "rigor" and "capacity" the human lives of its meat widgets. Pearson and McKinsey share aa deep and abiding love for Big Data. Moffitt now teachers a course about "strategic management" for Harvard's reform-loving Graduate School of Education.

Moffitt was also a board member of Stand for Children Leadership Center around 2011, 2012, which would have been shortly after the legitimate child advocacy group transformed into an astro-turfed, union-busting, Common Core pushing, privatizing, board-seat-buying, advocacy group.

While political opponents of Raimondo occasionally question the First Gentleman's privatizing inclinations and his influence, most of his press coverage is the kind of light-weight puff that first ladies are subject to. That's unfortunate, because he is a scary guy to have such a direct line to a governor who is pretty scary in her own right.

At the moment, Rhode Island's education system and the people who lead it are mired in the same pandemess as the rest of us, but if I were a parent or public school teacher or taxpayer there, I'd be concerned about the future of my public education system. These are the kinds of folks that see dollar sigs and data stacks (that can be turned into more dollar signs) and do huge damage with their imaginary educational expertise. Good luck to you, Rhode Island.

MI: Mobile Billboard Stalks DeVos

Protect Our Public Schools is a group of retired teachers and other stakeholders working out of Livonia, Michigan. While their reach may not be large nor their pockets deep, they have come up with a fun way to demand Betsy DeVos's attention.

While demanding that public schools be open and full this fall, DeVos herself has been working remotely from one of the family mansions. POPS has been calling attention to that, at least in Michigan, by hiring a mobile billboard. It's technically a truck with three giant LED screens, and they're taking it on a tour of Michigan, with special stops in Detroit for US Senators as well as the Trump campaign.

The messages on the screens are pretty direct:

Secretary DeVos: Stop hiding in your mansion. Start protecting our kids.

No plan. No funding. No experience.

The truck (well, another truck with the same messages and sponsored by POPS) also made a tour of Washington, DC where it sat outside the Department of Education for a while. The cost was reportedly around $15,500. The group has a publicist

Michigan news outlets were unable to get a response from the secretary, but when Newsweek asked, USED press secretary Angela Morabito shared a few thoughts:

This is not news; it's a cheap ploy to get attention, and Newsweek is taking the bait. Instead of reporting what's on a billboard, look at the facts.

POPS vice-president and former teacher Ellen Offen has been handling the press, with criticism centering on the DeVosian lack of leadership and the mandate to open schools without any help in developing a plan to do so safely (and while simultaneously demanding that students should be able to get their education anywhere).

The billboard is currently continuing its tour of Michigan, culminating, they hope, with some time spent circling a DeVos private home. It will be in Grand Rapids on Thursday and Holland on Friday. Here's a look at the truck in action, courtesy of Detroit's WDIV channel 4.




You can find POPS on Facebook. Meanwhile, just so you know, mobile billboards like this are available for rent in cities all acros the country. Just saying, that if you're looking for a fun project... For further inspiration, here are some pictures from the truck's visits so far.

AEI: Previewing New Reformy Rhetoric

Over at AEI, Robert C. Enlow and Jason Bedrick have some thoughts for new, improved rhetoric for pushing school choice. It's worth a look to see where the argument is headed in the year ahead.

Enlow is the president/CEO of EdChoice (formerly the Milton Friedman Foundation for Educational Choice). Bedrick is the director of policy at EdChoice, as well as a scholar the Cato Institute.

Given their background and affiliation, there is no surprise with their kick-off premise, which is that conservatives should still keep choice at the heart of their education agenda. This is framed as a resolution to the tension between choice and accountability, which has indeed always been a problem with reformster rhetoric--it's hard to create a world in which schools are held tightly to standards and test-centered accountability but certain schools are also free to do whatever.

Accountability has been doomed as a reformy cause for a while now. For one thing, it has already accomplished the task of cementing the narrative that public schools are "failing," and for another, charters haven't turned out to be any better at the accountability game than public schools. And accountability has always been poison to choice incursion into private schools, which largely have little interest in collecting taxpayer dollars if they have strings attached.

Enlow and Bedrick have three specific suggestions for rhetorical changes in how to frame the debate (and they are remarkably in line with the rhetoric used by Betsy DeVos).

First, replace "school choice" with "educational choice."

Way over the right, this has always been the dream--not choosing between public schools and charter schools, but letting families shop at a smorgasbord of edu-busineses vending a variety of edu-products. The dream is to make the entry requirement for getting into the edu-biz market as low as possible, so let's dispense with the model of a "school," and get on to selling education wherever, however. Enlow and Bedrick offer a good, old rosy-glassed libertarian vision of the benefits:

Importantly, these options allow families to pursue classical education, a content-rich history and civics curriculum, and more rigorous curriculum generally where these opportunities are otherwise lacking.

These options also allow families to avoid all of these options. And, of course, the options are only going to be available if someone decides it's worth their while to offer them.

Second, ditch "failing schools" for "the right fit."

Here's something they get right:

Predicating eligibility for choice programs on district schools’ test scores needlessly pits families and choice advocates against educators and schools. 

If there's anything I don't miss from a decade ago, it's the endless drumbeat that schools are terrible because they are filled with terrible teachers and therefor students must be plucked from these hellholes (with hellishness measured by a single bad, narrow standardized test). If you miss that routine, you can still get it from Jeanne Allen at the Center for Education Reform, or any Trumpist on Twitter.

Picking at the low-hanging fruit has been a reformy tactic for a while, from plans like a state-run district that takes over the bottom 5% of schools to states that offer voucher program aimed specifically at students in low-wealth communities and low-score schools.

The "right fit" approach, beloved by Betsy DeVos for a while, opens the market stem to stern. Under this theory, even a wealthy student at a high-rated school might still need some school choice in order to find her "right fit." This angle also allows choice to include religious private schools more easily, a DeVos goal for ages.

Then there's this:

The “failing schools” paradigm also makes choice only about providing equity for the disadvantaged rather than systemic change. Equity is certainly important—it is a matter of justice—but significant improvements will require large-scale changes in how education is delivered.

Since the beginning of the Trump/DeVos administration, reformsters have wrestled with the schism between social justice reformsters and free market reformsters. AEI and EdChoice are solidly in the free market camp, which believes in its heart that the market should decide which schools are "failing" and which are not, that, in fact, the definition of "failing" should be "not selling enough product to be financially viable."

I have huge problems with the "right fit" framing, because it adapts easily to the systemic preservation of inequity. It fits all too easily with the classist notion that everyone would be so much happier if they just settled into their proper place in society. This No Excuse Academy might follow oppressive policies that emphasize compliance and subservience that no rich white parents would ever tolerate, but hey, it might be just the "right fit" for some of Those People's Children. And Our Lady of Perpetual Motion can go ahead and reject any of Those People's Children because, well, this school just wouldn't be the "right fit" for them.

I have no doubt that some folks will adopt this language with nothing but good intentions. But racists, classists, and those who think inequity is The Way Things Should Be can adopt this language without blinking an eye.

From "top-down" to "bottom-up."

This is the least-new part, and is simply a restatement of the idea that schools should be driven by market forces, or as the essay puts it, "True accountability is when service providers are directly accountable to the people who bear the consequences of their performance."

Well, schools are not "service providers" or Uber drivers or taco stands, and the free market remains a bad match for public education. Enlow and Bedrick are correct in arguing (as teachers already had argued for years and years and years) that the single high-stakes test messes up the system; it's nice to have them on board, as outfits like AEI had previously argued that the Big Standardized Test was a necessary part of the free market, informing the decisions of parents.

This part is complicated. How will parent decisions be informed? The free market does not foster superior quality; it fosters superior marketing. How many tax dollars do we want to see funneled into marketing campaigns? What do we say to parents whose children are rejected for not being the "right fit" with the brand? What will the market offer to students who are rejected by all the vendors as  not the right fit, aka too much trouble and expense to educate? When has a free market sector ever focused on serving every single customer? In the free market, you can win by avoiding high quality and shooting at the middle (eg Walmart) or you can shoot for quality and aim at only a limited number of customers (eg pick your favorite super-expensive home sound equipment).

I have written a ton about the free market approach to education (like here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and here) but the short form is this-- I don't think the free market is inherently evil or bad (though lately it has suffered from some very bad actors); I just think it's incompatible with a system intended to fulfill the promise of a free, quality education for every single student. That bad fit is made even worse when you treat parents as the only stakeholders with a say, blocking out all community members and taxpayers who don't have children.

What the free market does well, besides fostering great marketing, is pick winners and losers, both among vendors and customers. Parents would be just as "empowered" as the market chose to make them, and they will have access to just the choices they are offered.

These three rhetorical twists are offered by the authors as a way to promote choice, but they don't strike me as making the argument any more convincingly than the old rhetoric. DeVos seems to like them, though, so I guess we'll be hearing them for a little bit longer.

James Blew: Pushing More Headscratching Arguments for USED

These days, James Blew's official title is Assistant Secretary for Planning, Evaluation and Policy Development at the US Department of Education. He's held that job since the Senate confirmed him in July of 2018.

This guy.

That confirmation was a narrow 50-49 party line vote, perhaps because Blew's previous history is focused on dismantling US public education. He was director of Student Success California, part of the 50CAN reformy network, and he served a stint as president of StudentsFirst, the national reform advocacy group founded by Michelle Rhee, former DC chancellor and ed reform's Kim Kardashian. He was the director of the Walton family Foundation's K-12 "reform investments" for 11 years. His background is, of course, not education, but business, politics and "communications."

In short, he's a solid part of the team of foxes guarding the US education hen house.

In late July, he showed (virtually) up at the annual national (virtual) seminar held by the Education Writers Association. The session underlines the current batch of talking points being used by the department, in particular capturing some of the serious cognitive dissonance and headscratching involved. Beth Hawkins covered the interview, and did a handy job.

Blew joined in the declaration that Covid-19 highlights the need for choice, because parents might like to shop around for a school that's opening when they want it to. Blew seems to presume that the school that isn't opening is a public school, which fits nicely with the department's threat to strip funding from districts that don't open up in a manner that suits the department (aka, all the way, right now). Consider that context as you read this boggling paragraph:

“We believe that the local authorities, with health authorities, need to make the decisions about what happens in their schools,” Blew said. “We just wanted to even out the debate a little bit to let everyone know children are better off in school. They’re far better off in school, and there won’t be money coming from the federal taxpayer to support it unless they are."

So local authorities can have a choice, but the feds will only fund the choice that they like. So remember-- choice is good, but only choice that the Secretary approves of. Also, Arne Duncan was evil and awful when he used federal funding as leverage for imposing his own policy ideas on local authorities.

So can we just stop pretending that the DeVos USED has any policy ideas other than "Whatever Will Allow Us To Give Public Tax Dollars To Private Schools"?

Also, note that the department just wants to "even out the debate" like they're just a bunch of bystanders and not the federal agency that should be offering some guidance, leadership and support for the nation's public schools. Meanwhile, some DeVosian aid keeps tweeting about the need for choice, as if the pandemic problems could be solved by choice, as if there are special private schools where the coronavirus can't reach.

Blew's other moments including blaming the failure of ed reform in Detroit on absolutely everybody except the woman who worked tireless to create the regulatory framework (or lack thereof) that made all that possible. Hats off to NPR's Steve Drummond for pointing out what has been obvious all along--that Betsy DeVos has a list of things she wants for the nation's system, and she already got to have all of that list made real in Michigan, where it failed hard.

Blew also tossed out the old baloney about public schools being locked in a factory model that hasn't changed for 100 years, an argument that can only be seriously made by someone who hasn't seriously studied education history and has not set foot in a public school for decades. Oh, and that fact that it persists is the union's fault. It's all baloney, but baloney that has long legs as a talking point.

Just for fun, Blew also accused reporters of being elites. When reminded of the kind of money that reporters actually make, Blew swiftly pivoted to the usual bad guys:

“I have lots of friends who are reporters and I understand the salary pressures on all of you right now,” he said. “I would, by the way, contrast that with the average salary of a teacher in this country.”

Yup, it's the teachers that are the elites, and it takes ordinary everyday salt-of-the-earth millionaires and their well-paid minions to fight back. Consider my head scratched.

Why Isn't AI More Widely Used?

That's the question that Wired asked last month, and it's important to consider because even as a truckload of ed tech folks are "predicting" (aka "marketing") a future in which ed tech is awash in shiny Artificial Intelligence features that read students minds and develop instantaneous perfectly personalized instructional materials. Why is it, do you supposed, that AI is being thrust at education even as private industry is slow to embrace it?

The article looks at a study of data from a 2018 US Census survey. What they found was that only 2.8% of companies had adopted any form of "machine learning," the magical AI process by which computers are supposed to be able to teach themselves. The big advanced tech winner was touchscreens, which are considerably more friendly than AI, and even those only clocked in at 5.9%, so I suspect that schools are ahead of the game on that one. Total share of companies using any kind of AI (which included voice recognition and self-driving vehicles) was a mere 8.9%.

Adoption was heavily tilted toward big companies, aka companies that can afford to buy shiny things that may or may not actually work, aka companies where the distance between those who buy the stuff and those who use the stuff is the greatest.

Another finding of the study is that, shockingly, that many previous "estimates" of AI use were seriously overstated. For instance, consulting giant McKinsey (a company that has steamy dreams about computerized classrooms) claimed that 30% of executives were piloting some AI. Of course, to do that kind of survey, you have to talk only to companies that have "executives" and not just an owner or a boss.

Wired doesn't really doesn't have an answer. It offers a charming contrast between a big-time beer brewing corporation that uses an AI algorithm to monitor its filtration process, and a small beer company where "We sit around tasting beer and thinking about what to make next."

But perhaps AI isn't more widespread because it doesn't work all that well. "AI" often just means "complicated algorithm," and that algorithm has been written by a human--most often, a human with a computer background and not a background in the field being affected.

This leads to problems like the widely noted tendency of AI to be racist--the attitudes and biases or programmers are transferred directly into the programs that they write.

So do their other failings. In her "Introduction to Artificial Intelligence in Education," Sarah Hampton offers some examples of what is or is not an AI program. In the "is" column we find Grammarly. The thing about Grammarly, though, is that this software that is supposed to magically offer useful editorial guidance for your writing--well, it's not very good at its job. In fact, one question that Wired didn't ask was about the success of the companies that did use AI, but consider this report that 1 in 4 AI projects fail. You can surf the net reading about AI failures all day. And some of them have really serious consequences (like being jailed because of a botched AI facial identification).

The answer to the Wired question is twofold. AI isn't more widely used because 1) it doesn't do anything that can't be done as well (often at lower cost) by actual expert humans and 2) because much of what it does, it doesn't do very well. Despite its many, many, many unfulfilled promises, AI continues to be boosted mostly by people who want to make money from it, and not by the people who actually have to work with it. Yes, AI fans, including those in ed tech, will continue to make shiny promises based on what the program would do if it worked perfectly to achieve what its designers imagined it would do in a perfect world, but that's a vision from some other world. In this world, AI still has little to offer the classroom teacher.

To Teachers Contemplating Retirement

This fall marks the beginning of my third go round of starting the school year as a retiree. Thanks to the pandemic, it's in some ways the hardest year so far. I get that the pandemic is also giving many teachers pause to consider whether or not to go back. Here (expanded from a twitter thread) are my thoughts.

One of the hard parts of retirement is managing the guilt. You're leaving your friends and colleagues to continue the work. And it's important work, work you value. And they're going to keep doing it while you walk away.

This is unavoidable, because the work in schools is never done, ever. Every year some stories end, and some other stories begin, and most of the stories continue somewhere in the middle. There will never be a moment when you can brush your hands together and declare, "Okay, everything's wrapped up, so this is the perfect moment for me to peace out." Never going to happen.

So to retire, you have to shake the notion that you should really stick around and help (it took me months to shake the notion that I should run for school board). You know, intellectually, that you are not indispensable or irreplaceable. You moved into someone's spot, and someone will move into yours. In the meantime, your actual legacy is out in the world. You taught a bunch of students, and now someone else will teach another bunch of students, differently. You know all this. But you still get the guilt-flavored feels.

If you dig down deeper, you may even find a layer that doesn't want to see how easily you can be replaced. By the day your time has come around, you've seen the process. A teacher is a post sunk into the bed of a flowing river, important and influential while there, but once removed, leaving no new trace. It's a little humbling.

This year is, of course, different. I imagine that the guilt factor is now increased by a factor of 100. To retire must feel like leaving not just work, but a burning building just as your friends and colleagues (and, in my case, my wife) are being made to run into it. I know because three years out I can feel it myself (Maybe I should sign up to substitute. Maybe I should email my old colleagues and offer myself as some kind of supplemental aid.) But this set of extraordinary circumstances doesn't really change the calculus of retirement.

You retire when you think it's time. Sometimes that's the result of a thousand tiny things. That's how it was for me; at some point in my career I imagined I would teach forever, that they would eventually stuff and animatronically mount me in front of a classroom. But things happened, like children and boss changes and financial realities, and the grinding realization that instead of growing every year as a teacher, I was putting much of my energy into keeping my work from being worn away from all that outside-the-classroom crap. How much of your energy is going into fighting against the conditions that surround your teaching, as opposed to the work itself? That's a factor worth considering (and it's okay if Covid-19 is part of that factor.)

Plus--and only in retrospect am I realizing how much this weighed--realizing what teaching until I died would really look like. And that, of course, is the only alternative--you can either teach until you die, or you can retire sometime before then. If you have things you want to do someday, Teach Till I Die likely means that someday will never come.

So the question becomes, when do I go?

That has to be one of the most personal questions in the world. People will ask why, and you may want to come up with a simple answer for them, but the answer is probably not simple, and it will be yours. Most retirees I know just knew. It was time to go. They had other stuff to go and do.

But the guilt. The Covid. The students. Your colleagues. The huge mess.

There's no shame in walking away when you know it is your time. Know that the guilt, the pang of walking away from unfinished work--that's all normal in even the best of times. Know that you aren't doing anyone any favors by staying past your time--everyone has known that one teacher who stayed past when it was time for her to go, just kind of taking up space halfheartedly in her classroom.

If it's time, it's time. If you have other things to do, go ahead and tap out.

I won't pretend that it doesn't come with all the feels. Along with the twinges of guilt, you will never not miss being in a classroom with students. But when it's time, it's time.

ICYMI: Rising Anxiety Edition (8/9)

Just trying to hold it together? Join the very large and ever-growing club. Here's some reading to pass the time.

Kindergarten Reading Push: Still Problematic During the Pandemic 

Nancy Bailey with a reminder that the attempts to force littles to read before they're ready is still a bad idea.

Re: My Nomination for US Secretary of Education 

I said what I meant and I meant what I said. A while ago I nominated some folks for the post of Secretary of Education, including the JLV. Here he leans in and discusses his possible platform for the office, thereby further convincing me that he would be a good choice.

An Open Letter To American Society 

In McSweeney's, but nothing funny here. A teacher tallies off the many requests society has made of her.

An Open Letter To Teachers 

Mitchell Robinson offers some thoughts to teachers about returning in these angry times.

Parents are Flocking to Virtual Schools and Homeschooling. They'll Find a Minefield.

Sarah Jones at the New York magazine looks at the problems lurking out there for parents ready to make the leap away from public schools.

Should We Be Worried About Learning Loss In Early Childhood? 

I love this Rae Pica piece so much, I'm going to share a paragraph from it:

I’m sorry, but how devastating could it be? What learning, specifically, is being lost? The ability to meet unrealistic standards imposed on them by people who don’t understand child development, including the ridiculous expectation that they read and write by the end of kindergarten? The capacity to fill in worksheets or stare at a computer screen, or to take useless tests? The ability to handle pressure they should never have been exposed to in the first place?

Ed Reform Now spends $57,000 on Memphis election

Chalkbeat offers the tale of how this wing of DFER is still busy trying to buy school board elections.

Betsy DeVos: The Fox in the Hen House 

Retired teacher Tom Gotsill offers an op-ed in the Cape Cod Times. Includes a good capsule history of ed reform.

The Misguided Push To Reintroduce Standardized Testing During the Pandemic 

The NEPC newsletter offers a response to all those crazy policymakers calling for testing when we hit the ground.

Report: Are Charter Schools a Big Risk for Families  

This is me at Forbes. I offer it as a gateway to the Network for Public Education report on charter school closings. I've long said that one of the drawbacks of charters is their instability; here are some numbers to back that up.

"Test, trace and isolate" will be a fiasco in schools 

Op ed from NJ.com, includes some of the same sort of thing I've heard often in my region--that people will absolutely refuse to cooperate with contact tracing.

The broken windows approach to teaching is breaking our schools.  

Victoria Theisen-Horner is over at Alternet talking about how no excuses schooling is bad news for everyone.

Pandemic Pods: Parents, Privilege, Power and Politics 

The latest Have You Heard podcast (there's a transcript too) looks at how the new pod fad looks a lot like the same old exercise of privilege by those who have it (and another tool for those who want to dismantle public ed).

It's time to debunk the myth of school choice   

Jen Gibson is in the Charleston (SC) City Paper pointing out that using the pandemic to defund public ed is not great, adding to problems that South Carolina has already had inflicted upon it.