Accountability Whiplash

It's one of the little inconsistencies in the reformster movement. 

Some will point at charts showing that spending on public education has increased steadily (in constant dollars) and ask, "What have we gotten for it?" 

There are answers to that question, including but not limited to A) more education for special ed students previously warehoused in some back room, B) better funding for previously marginalized students and C) more administrators, in part, to deal with increased gummint paperwork. The other part of the answer is that any taxpayer can demand a peek at the school district budget; you can find out where those dollars have gone. 

I've only ever had one beef with accountability hawks. I believe taxpayers are absolutely entitled to accountability by their local school district. My argument is with the instruments used to assess what districts are doing (spoiler alert: the Big Standardized Test is a spectacularly bad accountability instrument). 

But the real whiplash begins when some accountability hawks then stump for school choice and vouchers. "We are not getting enough accountability from our public schools, despite all the rules that require transparency from them," they say. "So instead, let's give the taxpayer money to schools that have no accountability requirements at all."

In fact, many of the voucher bills being floated around the country specifically stipulate that the state will in now way interfere with the operation of the private schools receiving voucher money, which is another way of saying "We will not hold these schools accountable in any way, shape or form." 

I understand accountability hawks. I understand choicers. What I don't understand are the reformsters who live where the Venn Diagram overlaps-- "We are upset about the lack of accountability in how public schools spend tax dollars, so we would like to see those tax dollars pumped into a system that offers no taxpayer accountability at all." 

We have now hand ample opportunity to see how accountability plays out under super-choice systems. Arkansas spends $3.3 million on a voucher program with little-to-no oversight. There's the story from Arizona about the $700,000 of voucher money spent on beauty supplies and clothes. And there are stories we don't even know yet because nobody is tracking what happens to those taxpayer dollars. 

"Parents!" is the standard response, the idea that parents, acting as the invisible hand of the marketplace, will provide all the accountability. But we know that doesn't work. We know that the last time vouchers were used on a large scale, it was by white parents trying to get their children out of newly-segregated public schools. No less a choice fan than David Osborne said at a recent Bellwether webinar (I'll post a link when it gets posted) that the research tells us that parents do not close bad schools. Nor would I expect them to--a private/charter school doesn't have to make everybody happy, doesn't need to hold onto all customers, and in fact can function better if it chases away everyone who's not a "good fit." I will bet dollars to donuts that Eva Moskowitz has never changed one letter of Success Academy policy because some parents had threatened to walk, nor are the many anti-LGBTQ private schools collecting taxpayer money going to loosen their policies because some parents will walk with their feet. 

The other problem with parent-based accountability is that there are plenty of taxpayers who are not parents of school age children. In a parent-based accountability system, those taxpayers get no say. Nobody has to be accountable to them. They get no say, even though they will have to live and work with the results of that system.

Accountability whiplash can be explained in part by faux accountability hawks, reformsters who don't really give a rat's tuchus about accountability other than it's another tool for discrediting public schools.

But what remains is a mystery--reformsters declaring "We don't think the public school system has enough accountability, so we would like to replace it with a system that has even less." 

"Liberty!" is the other call. As long as enough parents want an all-white academy that teaches the earth is a 4,000 year old plate and the Civil War had nothing todo with slavery and vaccines are a dangerous Big Pharma hoax, then they should get to have that school AND the taxpayers should foot the bill. 

But as we have been dramatically demonstrating for the past few years, our country and its taxpayers have a vested interest in a citizenry that doesn't believe dumb things. Yes, we will have to have constant arguments about what belongs on the list of dumb things, but there is no benefit to the country or its taxpayers in a system that lets everyone avoid ever having their beliefs challenged. Yes, finding your way to understanding through diverse and multifaceted aspects is complicated, but there is no virtue in answers that are simple and wrong. 

You can't have it both ways. Either taxpayers deserve to have accountability for how their tax dollars are spent, or parents deserve to freely spend taxpayer dollars without accountability or oversight. 

Teaching Legacies

It's easy as a teacher-- particularly if you've taught in a single school for a lot of your career-- to think of your legacy being in the building or in some program that you created or nurtured. But that's not it.

As you approach retirement, you may notice (if you haven't already) that no matter how ever-present and plugged in you may be, no matter how many invaluable extras you provide, once you are gone, every trace of you vanishes pretty quickly. Your room is redecorated, your furniture gets divided up by your former colleagues, and as for your standing within those four walls...

The year you announce your retirement: The Legendary Mrs. McTeach

First year you're gone: It's so weird without Mrs. McTeach here.

Second year: Yeah, I sort of remember a Mrs. McTeach

Third year: Mrs. McTeach? Didn't she used to teach here?

Fourth year: Who?

It's the nature of schools-- students pass through pretty quickly, even though they feel like they've been there for a thousand years. 

Actually, your legacy has left the building long before you have.

Right now I'm in the middle of overseeing a local writing competition, operated for twenty-some years now in honor of Margaret Feldman. Let me tell you about her.

She was born and raised in this small town. Her father made a smallish fortune by inventing and selling a watch lubricant and running a jewelry store (most of the smallish fortunes in my area came from something to do with oil). He was also an accomplished musician. Margaret was an athlete in high school, graduated early, and attended college. From there, she eventually ended up in DC working for the OSS (the precursor of the CIA) which she did for many years, before finally coming back home and teaching English at the high school where I graduated and taught. She was fearless and feisty, but also very proper. By the time I was a student, she was occasionally subbing. By the time I was on staff, she had stepped back from that, but she still ran a summer literature program for some students. She copied off the New York Times crossword puzzles and put them in teachers' mailboxes, and stopped by to chat. 

She new all sorts of people, mostly from her time in DC, and she was a source of inspiration to the generation of students who had her in class. When Aunt Peg passed away, the most immediate reaction of those students (now long-matured men and women) was to collect money to set up a foundation in her name. One ongoing function of that foundation has been to stage an essay competition for students throughout the county in her name. 

Keeping that competition afloat this year is a labor of love for me on two counts. The competition has been run by a woman who came to town and was befriended by Peg, who then recommended her to the district when an opening appeared in the department--that was my long-time teaching partner, who passed away suddenly and unexpectedly less than a year ago. So I'm working to keep the project afloat in memory of both of them.

That is what a teacher's legacy looks like-- grown-ups out in the world making use of the tools that teachers gave them years ago. If you teach in a small town, you get to appreciate that legacy a bit more. My hair is cut, my teeth cleaned, my car fixed, my food prepared, and my path just regularly crossed by students that I have taught over the decades. That, and the internet makes the whole world a little smaller, too. 

Teaching is one of the rare fields in which, like a blindfolded gardener, you never get to see the end product. You get a hint, a glimpse of the outlines, as the students head out the door. But so often you don't get to know the rest of the story. You can look around your room, your building, but your legacy is not there. It's out there, somewhere, in the world. Maybe a bit in your colleagues. A foundation funded by former students is nice, but not everyone gets that and anyway, you aren't around to see it. 

This is why, for years, I've said the best Teacher Appreciation Week gift is a personal, handwritten-on-paper note. Though advocating for public education is right up there, too. And some folks would do well to spread their appreciation out over the year, rather than being appreciative for one week and a jerk for the other fifty-one. 

But a note. A note is nice. You are somebody's legacy, and it means something to them to hear that you appreciate their role, back in the day, in your life. I guarantee it.

Khan Academy Expanding To Littles

The pandemic has been very, very good to Sal Khan, and he's ready to grab the big sticky ball and run with it. He recently did an interview with Emily Tate for EdSurge, and it's all just as discouraging as you would expect.

Khan opens with a few thought about pandemic life in the Bay Area:

“Obviously, some aspects have been suboptimal for everybody,” he says, acknowledging that his family has been extremely fortunate. “Every now and then, it's been hard to do a call while the kids are screaming or something like that, but between meetings, to see them or have lunch with them or go on a walk with them, that part has been actually quite nice.”

Then, just a few paragraphs later, Tate asks "How did you adapt to meet the needs of students during the pandemic?" Spoiler alert: his answer does not have anything to do with having lunch in person or taking walks together. But it did introduce me to another data-tastic term.

In normal times, we see about 30 million learning minutes per day on Khan Academy. When the pandemic and the closures started, we saw that go up to 90 million learning minutes per day by the end of that week.

I'm going to assume that "learning minutes" is a clever rebranding of "screen hours." If not, I'm dying the see the research that allows Khan to distinguish between minutes in which students are learning things and minutes in which students are staring blankly at a screen. But the non-answer to the question transitions into a plug for a new Khan product--Khan Academy Kids (slogan--"Joyful learning starts here!")

Khan Academy Kids is a "free, fun educational program for children ages two to eight." Tate offers Khan the chance to tell the story of this new program.

Let’s rewind to six or seven years ago. Everyone used to ask me, “What about early learning?” Honestly, I had a young family then, and I saw more than ever how important those pre-K years are. And I saw the advantages my kids had before they showed up to kindergarten. Most people who are middle-income or better, the Common Core kindergarten standards almost seem ridiculously easy. Like, of course my kid knows how to do those things. They probably got that [concept] when they were 3 or 4 years old.

But then you see so many kids who might show up in kindergarten the first day—and this was eye-opening to me—who haven't seen a book, some of them have never been read to.

And so immediately, out of the gate, in kindergarten, you're setting up a hierarchy of who's likely to succeed and who's likely not. So there's clearly a space for this, but I would tell people, “I have ideas, but that's not my expertise, and we don't have the expertise in-house.”

That expertise was shortly to arrive via Duck Duck Moose. That company was founded in 2008 to create learning apps for children. The three founders included Carol Hu Flexer (degrees in architecture, former product manager at Intuit, granddaughter of Hong Kong book publisher), and her husband Michael (software engineer at multiple start-ups). The Flexers had a two year old child who, they noticed, liked to play with their iPhone, so they went ahead and decided to start another start-up, tapping friend Nicci Gabriel, with whom Michael had done some work before, as a designer and illustrator. Gabriel started out as pre-med. The Flexers have classical music training.  You'll have noticed that nobody involved has actual education background, but they do have a process, described as "Observe children. Brainstorm. Prototype. Build. Test with children. Learn. Refine. Repeat all steps again. And again. And again."

They were founded in the Bay Area as a for profit company and picked up investments of about $7 million in venture capital, backed by Stanford, Lightspeed Venture Partners, and Sequoia Capital. They developed 21 apps and won some awards. Then, in 2016, the company was "donated" to Khan Academy. Khan tells the story of them approaching him and, instead of cashing in through acquisition offers, looking to secure a legacy of "impactful education work." So now they are Khan Academy Kids.

Khan acknowledges that children need more than screen time ("outdoor play, being with friends, and ideally a pre-K program") and says that the app "leans quite heavily on social-emotional learning." And he cites a UMass study of 4-5 year olds using the app which found it got better results when compared to "two wholesome apps that did not target kindergarten readiness skills." That seems to be the source of a twenty-minute recommendation for the amount of time to park your tiny human in front of a screen. 

The interview also includes plugs for schoolhouse.world, an enterprise we've covered before. Short form: peer-to-peer tutoring, micro-credentials, and a batch of shady characters including Arne Duncan.

It's appropriate that Khan tells his own story in plugging schoolhouse-- "Khan Academy started with me being an analyst at a hedge fund and I was tutoring my cousins." Khan also notes "We've always known that the gold standard has always been high-quality tutoring, but no one's ever acted on it because it's hard to scale and expensive." Spoiler alert: schoolhouse.world does not solve any of those issues , nor is it about high-quality tutoring. It's more of the stuff built on a foundation of well-connected, well-heeled amateurs who figure they can easily create an educational revolution.

ICYMI: What? May Already? Edition (5/2)

That whole April thing seemed to slide by quickly. What could come next? 

I'll remind you (as I haven't in a while) that sharing is your power as a reader, and that if any of these really speak to you, the best gift you can give the writer of your favorite piece is more readers. Share.

I'm a Chicago principal. This round of testing won't tell me anything that matters.

Chalkbeat lets Seth Lavin explain why there's more to being a god student than getting a test score up to desired levels. How many of these sorts of articles do you think actual educators would have to write to be heard?

Bill allowing charter schools to circumvent districts becomes law without Gordon's signature

In the More Bad News department, Wyoming's legislators just rammed through a bill that lets charters become authorized without the approval of the school boards elected by the taxpayers who will have to foot the bill.

A Race To Nowhere With No Guaranteed Winners

TC Weber at Dad Gone Wild joins the ranks of people making a powerful and personal case for not freaking out over Learning Loss. 

General Education Has A Bad Rap

David Epstein was at Slate to share a piece from his book Range: Why Generalists Triumph in a Specialized World, a copy of which I now need to buy. There are many good thoughts here, leading up to this final sentence: "Development is not linear, and diversions that set you back in the short term frequently become powerful tools in the long term."

AI Is Neither Artificial nor Intelligent

At Wired, an interview with Kate Crawford who says, among other things, that we have a regulation emergency, and that we need less research focus on ethics, and more on power.

Is There a White Supremacy Culture in Schools

One of the more challenging pieces that Nancy Flanagan has ever posted. Plenty to think about in terms of what values are actually associated with race.

The Real Solution to Learning Loss: Value Teachers and the Teaching Profession

At EdSurge, of all places, Torrey Trust and Robert Maloy argue that teacher loss and burnout is a bigger problem than "learning loss" (a phrase they say has become as widespread as "you're on mute").

Resigning with fire

If you haven't seen this clip yet, here's the teacher roasting his board on his way out the door. "If you respected us, you'd listen to us."

"Bust a Move": The Faculty Mix

McSweeney's comes through again, but you have to be old enough to remember the music that goes with these lyrics.

Dammit, Joe

So up on my screen pops the headline "Biden says K-12 education isn't working--calls for fgre pre-K to 'grade 14'"

The good news is that the headlines is, as headlines will be, a bit inaccurate. The bad news is everything else. Starting with this lede:

President Joe Biden on Wednesday praised the nation's K-12 education system for fueling America's economic growth for almost a century. But, he stressed, that system may no longer be sufficient as the foundation for future prosperity.

We've been here before, starting with this fundamental misunderstanding of the problem:

Mr. Biden's American Families Plan is taking aim at an issue that has bedeviled economists as well as millions of families struggling to stay afloat financially: A high school diploma is no longer enough to secure a middle-class life.

If the situation has changed, if all the good stuff has been moved to a shelf that is too high for regular folks to reach, is the problem that regular folks are too short, or that somebody moved the good stuff to a too-high shelf? The democratic/neo-lib theory is based on the too-short-humans theory, in part because the MarketWorld thinking of neo-libs is that the economic shenanigans that moved the good stuff to a higher shelf are inviolate, unquestionable, and not to be messed with (yes, go read Winners Take All). So instead we end up with the theory that if people are more educated, bad jobs that don't support a middle class lifestyle will turn into good jobs that do. Wal-Mart and McDonalds will say, "Well, now that our workers have better educations, we will spontaneously decide to pay them more." Companies will decide not to automate jobs or send them overseas because US workers have a better education. 

Yes, I know. The theory is that a better-educated population will entrepreneur the hell out of things, growing mountains of great jobs. But the bad jobs will still exist, and people will still be needed to fill them. And it will not help if government is saying, "Well, we spent some money to have education fix it all, so we've done all we can, and those teachers better by God get to work on it."

"We know a good job with simply a high school diploma is almost impossible," said Arne Duncan, Secretary of Education under Barack Obama, during a Wednesday call with reporters to discuss Mr. Biden's plan.

Yes, having Arne back in the discussion is a great sign. Do we know that a good job with a high school diploma is impossible? If that's true (and I know a bunch of well-paid blue collar workers who would like to talk about that)--but if that's true, can we please talk about why? Is it because all the jobs require so super-much, or because we've stood back and let corporations break down jobs into "low-skill" tasks and pay bottom dollar to people who fill them, while the people at the top hoover up all the value and profit that the workers create? Jeff Bezos is a gazillionaire and his workers get peanuts--how exactly is this because those workers didn't get a good enough education in high school?

But--said some folks on Twitter when I was sputtering on about all this--isn't publicly funded pre-K a win? Isn't some publicly-funded college a win? 

Well, yes. Yes, it is, for a number of reasons. Pre-K is hugely useful, though I wonder how necessary it would be if we hadn't spent two decades turning kindergarten into the new 2nd grade. Which is definitely on the table; David Brooks made some phone calls and was told that the administration wants children (we're talking 3 and 4 year olds here) "in the classroom." The Board of Directors here at the institute are just shy of four. My grandchildren are in a similar age range. My primary concern for exactly none of them is for them to get into a classroom.

That's the problem of course. Not that publicly-funded pre-K isn't potentially a great, game-changing thing, but that it be done well, that it be done in a way that is healthy and nurturing for tiny humans. We can say as one person did that we don't give a fart (I'm sure that's what the F stood for) about the underlying philosophies or rationale behind the pre-K because in the end, we get pre-K.

But the underlying rationale is going to determine what kind of pre-k we get, what is measured as success. The rationale will decide if "success" is happy healthy tiny humans or if success is higher Big Standardized Test scores or if, heaven help us, it's increased lifetime earnings according to some bad study or if it is an ample supply of meat widgets for corporations to consume. 

Maybe this will be fine. Maybe it will be a straight up win. Maybe it will arrive in a functional form that has not been beaten up by the process, which will most likely be about politics, not policy or educational expertise. Maybe this will be fine. Maybe that big sharp knife the administration is carrying will be used for good. But I remember the last time we saw that knife, and that time, things ended badly.

Would a badly conceived and executed publicly funded pre-K be better than what we have? Probably. Hard to say. It may give some parents just enough assistance that they can use to get their heads a bit further above water. It might give some tiny humans a better shot. It might position the tiny humans to better cope with a kindergarten system that will make developmentally unsustainable demands on them. It might give them one more soft place to land besides home. If it does any of those things, it's a plus.

So I don't want to shout the idea down. I do want to hound policy makers mercilessly about not not NOT using a pre-K program to expand and extend all the bad policy ideas that Clinton/Bush/Obama administrations injected into K-12 education. And as it becomes increasingly clear that this administration loves many of those same bad ideas, I want to keep an eye out for their appearance elsewhere. 

None of this is a surprise, but dammit, Joe--it is a disappointment. 

Guest Post: Dispatch from Beleaguered PA District

 I've been following the story of Chester Upland School District in Pennsylvania. It's a long history featuring every imaginable problem that could afflict a school district. Currently the district is facing a charter takeover and a mysterious stack of vanished money.

The following post was sent to me from inside the district and written by a teacher who prefers to remain anonymous. It provides a picture of some of the issues within the district.

Promises made, broken and never even acknowledged…

This letter is penned from the desk of a frustrated and exhausted teacher within the Chester Upland School district. For months, if not years now, the district has made headlines in many news outlets for a variety of positive and challenging stories. The district has found itself under watch and scrutiny over the years, but this year seems to be holding nothing back. Surprisingly I have to write this to shed even more light on the conditions and lack of care by the district for its students and staff.

Let’s start with the Chester County Intermediate Unit. In the fall of 2020, the CCIU was awarded a 3 million dollar, 3 year contract to help oversee departmental operations of CUSD to aid in “righting the ship” (pun intended with regard to CHS Mascot). CCIU recently announced they are redacting from the district and severing all professional working relationships under that contract effective June 30. No formal acknowledgement has been made as to why but the writing is surely on the walls. They were not afforded full compliance to work within the district’s endless void, also called the budget. This budget has been the hotbed of issues for years. With poor management, lack of funds, and endless debt, it seemed to run like a teenager at a mall with a limitless credit card. The accountability and compliance were back-burnered in lieu of hiring people who obviously were not right or experienced in the position, unless this abyss of funds was created by more deceptive practices. With CCIU came some outside eyes on this issue and hope of getting this growing “red” to level out and work into the green. Either way, no one has issued a formal statement stating this separation but the separation was verbally shared by staff at the CCIU with CUSD staff.

On to the next topic, the lack of cleaning by CUSD and removal of their auxiliary cleaning contractor. Up until March 30, the district was contracting Service Master for cleaning services to ensure the district was in compliance of CDC/ChesCo Health Department regulations for opening the buildings. They did provide a service and were seen present in the buildings assisting in disinfecting all areas of transition and operation. After March 30, the contract with Service Master was nulled. Why? We still don’t know as again, no formal statement was shared with anyone (staff or stakeholder), though the district received 16 million in CARES Act Funds to provide this service and assurance. Now, the buildings are left a mess, staff and students are testing positive at an alarming rate and the protocols that CCIU assured the staff and stakeholders in January seem to be gone, something quite typical of this district. Each day student’s enter as do staff to facilities that are inadequately cleaned. The custodial department at CUSD has a void of 14 staffing positions and they currently rotate the small group they have throughout the 5 buildings operating in the district. Staff have pleaded to the district to reconsider keeping the buildings open as one building already lost a staff member to COVID in the fall. (He was not exposed at the district). When confronted, the “go to” seems to be, make those still cleaning just do more; problem being the buildings didn’t get any smaller and the need for a more thorough cleaning has not diminished. Though, like cows at a meat processor, we begrudgingly enter each day wondering, will today be the day we catch this illness.

Lastly, the grant funded programs…oh this issue has a year plus of conflict with it. Staff who are

working overtime in programs have not been compensated for their roles in these positions. To date many educators have been asking, repeatedly when they will see the funds dispersal for these active and very needed roles. Requests for explanation fall on deaf ears, emails are ignored, or the cycle of “you’ll have to email this person” happens. Problem is like many things, the email blame goes round and round and never finds resolve. Each role is supported by grant money, money that each month should be on an expense report showing allocation and consumption. Those are not disclosed in the fiscal reports each month. The receiver has been very good at keeping the numbers close to chest and even when in court, requests for more time to provide a more accurate audit or summation. For what the district is spending in audit reporting, maybe one day the number they pay out will graciously provide this “final” analysis of where all the money goes. Until then we as staff and stakeholders are left questioning all of it.

Similar issues plague the district for the staff to receive their Act 48 hours in order to maintain certification. Many, many hours are not logged timely. All school districts offer Professional Development with accredited hours. The hours (at minimum) should be uploaded to the PA Department of Education’s PERMS site to prevent teacher’s licenses from becoming inactive. If the district was not to offer these, the staff could schedule and take workshops and classes that offer similar hours without issue. Now, once again, the staff is left with voids of hours never uploaded or placed into the system accurately. When questioned, the short circle of people play the same unclear blame game, never solving a single thing. Clarity is almost never achieved; solutions are pretty much folklore in the district yet confusion and blame we have a decades plus surplus of and it keeps growing.

This district is rife with strain and stress. Staff is rotating in and out annually and those who are dedicated and foster a sense of hope are holding onto believing that some miracle may come and save these kids from the egregious decision making the leaders seem to be prone to. Even at the Receiver or CUSD board meetings, held via zoom, the district administration control the chat/question box and will purposely pass over questions or disregard their mere presence. Others times they will shut the chat box down, essentially muting the people who are vested in ensuring the children receive what they deserve - a fair and appropriate education, something they’ve yet to receive due to issues in the state legislature and poor administrative leadership in the district.

We have a school board that is powerless in a Receivership status but, curiously, there is money for high paid consultants and teams of lawyers. Begs the question. Why? Perhaps to ensure they can get that power back. The school board has attempted to circumvent their lack of power by creating an RFP “task force” composed of 60% of the (inactive) school board. This is a shame and a mockery of what would be considered anything relatively fair and equitable for the stakeholders. Our board president is accused of (in court) harassment and running the district like some old mafia newsstand in the 30’s. In what professional world would someone accused of years of malicious and deviant behavior be allowed to even step foot into the very business/company or grounds they work for? Why is it that more money and resources are placed into “parting out” the district then ever has been to save it? We may never know and in the end. We all have failed the very people we are here to help - the students…the kids who live

and thrive in Chester. One day they will see what was done, and by some higher power’s grace forgive the adults responsible for this calamity.

Signed,

A devout and hopeful CUSD Teacher.

Falling Behind In An Actual Classroom

The chicken littling about Learning Loss is just never going to stop. Today I came across yet another article (that I won't link to) warning that the Learning Losses from the pandemic pause will haunt students for the rest of their lives.

The worst of the Learning Loss panickers are revealing too much about what they don't understand, but what they especially don't understand is what goes on in an actual classroom, because the whole concept of "falling behind" is a layperson's oversimplification of what actual education looks like.

I think I was a pretty run-of-the-mill example of the teaching profession in my thirty-nine years, so let me explain what my year generally looked like. 

At the beginning of the year, I'd launch the dual processes of Trying To Teach Stuff and Figuring Out What This Batch of Students Knows and Can Do. At no point in my career were the Big Standardized Test results a useful part of this process because A) the results were nothing but a score and we weren't even allowed to see the questions, so had no way of knowing what exactly students got right or got wrong and B) the results don't come until the school year was already well under way. 

In my career, I mostly taught grades 9 through 12, all tracks, so September always brought students with a very wide range of tools. One of things you get better at with experience is assessing what the students bring to the table, both academically and otherwise. And then you go from there.

This initial assessment does not tell you anything about pace. Not once in my career did I ever start the year thinking, "Oh, lordy, these guys are behind, so I will switch into my special secret accelerated mode so that I can teach them more, faster." For a couple of reasons. First, not once in four decades did I stumble upon a fast mode that let me teach more, faster, which I then shelved for some reason. Because one thing you know after just a couple of years is that there is never enough time, and so part of your practice is to squeeze the very most out of the time you have. 

Second, if there are students who are not quite as far along as you wish they were, acceleration is backwards. "Since you don't quite understand this yet, I'm going to spend less time on it," said no teacher ever. 

One other thing about that initial assessment-- you are looking at many, many items. It's not like measuring how far a runner has progressed down a single track. It's more like a pincushion, with a hundred pins sticking out in all directions, some far out and some barely progressed. A pretty good writer who doesn't read well. Students who don't write super-well, but who each write poorly for a different reason. 

And then we move into the meat of the year., with students progressing at different speeds in different directions. This, it should be noted, is never, ever expressed in terms such as ,"Pat, you are behind Sam in reading," because what possible good can come of that? Because I taught mostly 11th and 12th graders, a lot of our developing emphases in class have to do with what they are doing next. My future auto mechanics have different concerns than my future college freshpersons. 

Sometimes there are just particular issues that come with the chemistry of the class. I've had classes where if I managed to teach anything in that period, it was-- well, not a good day, but a better day than the days when nothing got done. 

Sometimes the class provides special opportunities. The year I had a class of around a dozen students, eight of whom were either pregnant or moms; what a great class, and there was some great learning that went on in there, but it didn't look like any other class I ever taught, because they had very specific interests, concerns, priorities. The classes that focused on themes and ideas in the literature that were really exciting and interesting. The class that wanted to talk about how to deal with bad communicators in a workplace.

Those developments in turn shape the year and the culminating, end of year assessments. My end of year assessments usually included take home essays to write that involved some synthesis and connection creation, but the year I had a class that just loved "deep" themes and ideas, one of their end of year essays was "What is the meaning of life?" If you laid out my various finals side by side, would you be able to say that one class was ahead or behind another? Is a student who passed welding certification ahead or behind one who completed a local history paper based on primary sources? Is a student who wrote a rap about Hamlet's fear of death ahead or behind a student who created a web-based presentation about dance? 

As I have said repeatedly--there is no question that this year, students did not get the same amount of educational stuff that they would have gotten in a non-pandemic year. There is no question that for most, remote education did not serve them as well as live and in person probably would have. 

But to reduce education to a single straight line, and then to rank students by how they are located on that line, is reductive to the point of being stupid. It's attractive and helpful for people who don't understand education, or people who think they understand education but don't want to think too hard about it, or people who want to reduce education to the process of engineering humans, or policy makers who want a simple formula for policy, or people who want to be able to make a simple, sexy sales pitch. 

But it's not real, or particularly useful, to actual teachers in actual classrooms. People grow and change and learn and mature in their own time and in their own way. Whatever quality you want to focus on, there is always someone who is more so. But what does that tell you, really. We are not all in a race, we are not all headed to the same destination, and we are not even going to follow the path we think we are. Double ditto for our students.