Saturday, October 14, 2023

Dear Voters: Please Pay Attention

It's an off year, with mostly just boring things like school board seats and judgeships up for election. Maybe some local municipal stuff. All really dull. 

I am begging you. Please pay attention.

Over the past couple of years, I have ploughed through story after story about local school boards that had acquired a new ultra-conservative majority that proceeded to do everything from firing superintendents and central office staff to creating new policy to rooting out imaginary CRT and various Naughty Books to going after the budget with a meataxe. 

These actions are often followed by community outcry, sometimes productive but often to no avail. And  they all tell a similar story about how things got to this point. 

People weren't paying attention. People just kind of slept through the board election. People didn't bother to vote because they assumed the usual reasonable people would win in a walk. 

People tend to imagine that who actually sits on the school board doesn't matter that much. Unless there's some pressing local issue like bus stops, sports uniforms, or a teacher contract under negotiation, folks assume that board members fungible, that they can be swapped out without much effect on anything. Heck, in regions like mine, it's not unusual to have too few people running to fill all the seats, which really helps reinforce a habit of ignoring board elections.

If there's anything to be learned in the last decade, it's that elections have consequences. 

When it comes to school boards (and courts), there are a whole bunch of folks who are involved in a concerted, and often well-funded effort to commandeer these positions (whatever "well-funded" means in your neck of the woods). There are christianists who want to insert their religion into the public sphere. There are MAGA members who want to gut the curriculam and replace it with their own. There are culture warriors who want to tear up the rules by which your district operates and create their own. There are dominionists who want to take back schools. There are people who want to root out "indoctrination" (aka "making students aware of anything these folks disagree with") and replace it with "proper thinking" (aka "making sure students are led to believe what these right-thinking folks believe"). 

What's more, at this point many of these folks understand that saying out loud that they are, say, Moms For Liberty endorsed or running specifically to get their personal faith made school policy--that might not be a winning campaign, and it might be best to keep the quiet part quiet. At least until after you've won. And when it comes to judgeships--well, in Pennsylvania we have Carolun Carluccio running for State Supreme Court, heavily financed by Jeff Yass and carefully scrubbing her materials of reference to her strong anti-abortion stance.

If you assume that how (or if) you vote on a school board election (or judge) election doesn't really matter, I am here to tell you that you are deeply and truly wrong. It may take some legwork and study to figure out who's who (and if you have done that work, please share it), but it is far easier to do this kind of work before elections than it is to try to protect your school district from duly-elected vandals. 

If far out there candidates are elected because a community knows what they stand for and elects them, that's one thing. But when radicals are elected because the community is napping, that's a big mastake with serious consequences.

Please pay attention. 

Friday, October 13, 2023

TX: How Bad Is The Newest Voucher Proposal

Texas Governor Greg Abbott is finding democracy a huge pain in the butt these days. Democratically elected legislators will not let him have his way, so he has called the legislature back once again to consider his dream of education savings account vouchers, or else. He has threatened to primary rural GOP House members who (once again) thwart him. He is holding teacher pay hostage unless he gets his way. He is not, it should be noted, taking his voucher proposal to the voting public (because the voting public has never approved a voucher program).

In short, he is pulling every lever of power he has at his command in order to circumvent any sort of democratic process.


That's an appropriate tactic for installing vouchers, which themselves short-circuit democratic processes. Vouchers disenfranchise taxpayers with no school age children; in voucher world they get no say in how their education tax dollars are spent. Vouchers cut local elected school boards out of the funding (or defunding process). 

And despite all the talk about education freedom for families, vouchers create a system in which schools--not families--get to choose who has access to the best education. 

When we look into SB 1, the latest voucher proposal that has already sailed past the state senate to the rocky waters of the house, where Texas voucher bills go to die, we find most of the usual stuff. A little more auditing of parents than some bills, but no real oversight or accountability for "education service providers," who require no serious vetting to get on the pre-approved vendors' list.

Modern voucher bills routinely include a hands off clause, a promise that they will be allowed to conduct business as they wish, with no interference by the state. Don't want the state bringing up pesky issues of discrimination or teaching that dinosaurs and humans strolled the earth together about 4,000 years ago.

SB 1 includes hands off language, and very specific language at that. Starting out with the usual language about how accepting voucher money does not make the recipients state actors (a phrase that has caused some legal choice trouble in the past). Then, under Sec. 29.368, we get very clear:

A rule adopted or other governmental action taken related to the program may not impose requirements that are contrary to or limit the religious or institutional values or practices of an education service provider, vendor of educational products, or program participant, including by limiting the ability of the provider, vendor, or participant, as applicable, to:

(1) determine the methods of instruction or curriculum used to educate students;

(2) determine admissions and enrollment practices, policies, and standards;

(3) modify or refuse to modify the provider’s, vendor’s, or participant’s religious or institutional values or practices, including operations, conduct, policies, standards, assessments, or employment practices that are based on the provider’s, vendor’s, or participant’s religious or institutional values or practices; or

(4) exercise the provider’s, vendor’s, or participant’s religious or institutional practices as determined by the provider, vendor, or participant

Note in particular item 2-- nobody can tell the private school how to decide which students to take, or not. Religion, behavior, grades, hair style, family background, basically any damn thing that the school wants to offer as a reason not to accept a particular student is untouchable by the state. And I'm pretty sure that they could get around any pesky federal rules about race. 

For the moment, let's look past the issue here of quality, of a law that would require taxpayers to support a school that does a lousy job, that discriminates in ways that most Americans would find odious, that is a transparently crappy school that taxpayers have no say in funding. Oh, and that requires students with special needs jettison their rights at the schoolhouse door.

Let's look past all that at the central pitch of the fans of SB 1. 

From Mandy Drogin the head of the Texas branch of Betsy DeVos's American Federation for Children lobbying group, lobbyist, and previous Heritage Foundation event planner:

With today’s announcement, Governor Abbott has made clear that Texas will prioritize student-centered educational policies that ensure that money will follow the student to any school their parents choose – this includes high-quality public schools, public charter schools, private schools, and more.

Except, no, it won't. It will prioritize private-school-centered policies which will allow private schools to pick and choose, as they wish, from among the applicants (who may or may not be able to afford the gap between their voucher amount and private school tuition). It will prioritize private-school-centered policies that allow taxpayer subsidies for students who were already in private schools.

If these people were serious about school choice, they would address the real barriers to getting students into their choice school--cost and discrimination. But they won't. 

By allowing taxpayer subsidies to go to students who were already in private schools (aka could already afford it), SB 1 funnels dollars collected from low-wealth taxpayers to subsidize wealthy families, even as it empowers private schools to refuse to admit any of Those Peoples' Children. 

It's bad policy. Here's hoping the state house once again holds the line, no matter how hard Abbott tries to twist their arms.


Thursday, October 12, 2023

OK: Trump Judge Stalls Decision On Gag Law Injunction

Way back in September of 2021, in the height of the CRT panic, Oklahoma jumped on the gag law bandwagon with HB 1775. The bill included the usual list of Naughty Things Teachers Must Not Say, the same list in most of these laws and copied from Donald Trump's executive order to clamp down in CRT (whatever that might be), all vague and unclear enough to exert a chilling effect on teaching about race in the US.

It's HB 1775 that has given Oklahoma such special moments as Education Dudebro Ryan Walters explaining that the Tulsa Race Riots can be taught, just don't say they were racially motivated. And then try to take it back, sort of. This, mind you, from a guy who was an actual honest-to-goodness history teacher.

The ACLU and some other folks including students and teachers filed a lawsuit against the new law in October of 2021. They asked for an injunction to block the bill. Both sides had finished filing written arguments 19 months ago. 

And since then, nothing but the sound of the wind sweeping down the plain.

What's the holdup? Nobody knows. The plaintiffs have attempted to encourage the court to cough up a decision, but it hasn't helped.

The judge who is apparently pondering the issue at considerable length is U. S. District Judge Charles B. Goodwin, a Trump appointee. It took two tries; Goodwin was part of Trump's string of judge nominees rated "unqualified" by the American Bar Association. Goodwin at least had previous judge experience. The unqualified rating was apparently because of "work ethic" e.g. his habit of not showing up at court until noon. Goodwin protested that he was just a guy who liked to do a lot of his work at home

So who knows. Maybe there's a ruling tucked under a coffee table in his home somewhere. Maybe I shouldn't criticize, since the Institute operates out of a corner of my residence. Of course, I'm not a federal judge, and it doesn't take me two years to get my work done. 

What Koch Wants From Candidates

The Very Rightward Washington Examiner just ran an op-ed from Craig Hulse entitled "How GOP candidates can win on education." Like most such pieces, it would be better titled "These are policies we want these guys to support, so we're going to argue that supporting them is a way to win elections." It's marketing, not analysis, but in this case it's worth looking at for a second because of Hulse's job.

Craig Hulse is the executive director of Yes Every Kid. He's been a busy guy. He's been back and forth through the revolving public-private door. Staff assistant for Congress, legislative liaison for Nevada governor, state policy advisor in Nevada, Nevada state director of StudentsFirst, director of government relations for Las Vegas Sands, public policy/public affairs manager for Uber, the Ready Colorado choicer advocacy group, state government affairs for JUUL, policy and government affairs for Tesla--most of them for a little over a year. His job is to oversee "the lobbying team with efforts across the United States to direct education and influence campaigns to shape education policy that is open to the free flow of ideas and innovation."

Yes Every Kid is the education wing of the kinder, gentler Kochtopus. It was a sort of prequel to Koch's 2020 announcement that the country was too partisan and he was, by golly, going to stop contributing to that. He followed that announcement up by throwing a giant pile of money behind GOP candidates, including those endorsed by Trump. A cynic might conclude that Koch's change of heart was just a rebranding exercise, a shiny coat of lipstick on the same old pack of porcine politics.

So what does this arm of Kochtopus want the GOP to do?

2023 has been a banner year for education freedom, with nearly all families in nine states now empowered to direct education funding in a way that best meets their kids’ needs. These state laboratories of democracy are innovating, and voters are responding. With all this progress, it’s no surprise that Republicans are seen as more trustworthy than Democrats on education — a development that will have major implications for next year’s presidential election.

"Voters are responding" is a cagey way of framing voter response. Voters, who have never passed an "education freedom" program at the ballot box, have been kicking back at the MAGA takeover of school boards. I have no idea what Hulse's basis for saying that the GOP "are seen" as more trustworthy. Are seen by whom, exactly? And that last line hints at what the current culture-war-based MAGA Moms assault on public education is about--activate the base and win some elections.

Hulse was unhappy with the GOP debates, and he singles out DeSantis as the one guy who has fallen in line with the desired ed policy. Hulse would like to see all candidates seize "the opportunity to illustrate a future where educational decisions are made by families." AKA a future in which families are on their own in trying to get their children an education.

What would this future look like? We must reaffirm what we mean by “public education.” It means curating educational experiences that best meet each student’s needs — regardless of where and how they take place. The traditional brick-and-mortar school building filled with rows of desks is an outdated idea.

Um, yes. That's why so many people were delighted when the bricks-and-mortar buildings were shut down during the pandemic and families were forced to curate other educational experiences wherever and however they could. Could it be that the idea that Koch et al find outdated is the idea of a system in which people with money pay taxes in order to finance education for those people with less money.

Hulse has three specific proposals.

First, "Empower families to direct funding." In other words, vouchers. He says some nice things about the potential of children and how the system is set up to push a "one size fits all system," because education reformsters love to rail against the schools of sixty years ago. The fact that he praises nine states suggests that he wants full-on ESA vouchers, so that families can spend it on public, private, micro or home schools (see once again how microschools help plug the hole in this pitch). 

Second, allow families to enroll students in schools outside their attendance zone. And he offers this striking analogy. "Imagine if, on a hot summer day, you could be denied access to a public pool or park because you live in the wrong neighborhood." I'm pretty sure lots of folks have no trouble imagining what that would be like, and that experience of Those People's Children being chased out of local facilities tells you something about the actual obstacles that this idea would face. Or history from Little Rock. Or the many post-Brown stories of cities where white students were allowed to switch schools, and Black students were not. Not saying this is the worst idea; I am saying that it would take a lot of thought and enforcement to keep it from being anything other than another mechanism for white flight.

Third, unbundle education. This is an old favorite, but his examples are uninformed. Why can't a homeschooled kid play on his local school's football team? No reason. My rural-ish school district has been doing that sort of thing for years and years. But his reasoning is a bit askew. They should be able to pick and choose bits of public education to access because "public schools are public institutions funded by taxpayer dollars" so "why should students have to enroll full time to participate." Except that if he gets his way on vouchers, that students' "share" of the taxpayer dollars will have gone elsewhere. 

But the whole "part time public school" idea is one more way to plug the problems with choice. Can't find a microschool or software program or faux teacher who can teach your kid calculus? Just go back to the public school to pick that up. Which seems like a backhanded way to admit that public schools are the best one stop shop to meet whatever educational needs you might have.

Hulse wraps up with some unsourced poll numbers about choice, and can we all just agree that what the public "wants" when it comes to school choice is pretty much a function of how the question is worded? 

Final pitch?

Candidates can unite the nation with a vision to promote freedom, empower families and improve public schools. On such a crowded debate stage, those who champion families will make a real impression on voters.

Really? Because DeSantis, the second Florida governor to pin his Presidential hopes on bold education policy, doesn't seem to be making much of a unifying visionary impression on voters. Koch certainly has money to throw at this dream of a pig and its wish for lipstick; we'll see what it gets him. 

Wednesday, October 11, 2023

How Vouchers Bust State Budgets

One of the consistent features of voucher programs is that they grow, sometimes rapidly, to suck up huge chunks of the state budget. Nobody understands this better than Arizona's Governor Katie Hobbs. She posted this memo on the Dead Bird app yesterday:



























Hobbs has rung this alarm bell before. Back in July, her office noted that the price tag for the state's education scholarship account voucher program would be over $943 million, leading to a $320 million shortfall. And that doesn't just represent moving money from public schools to voucher programs. Hobbs says that the vouchers benefit 8% of the state's students, but account for more than half of the state's education spending.

How can that be? And why is it happening in other universal voucher states as well?

Two simple things.

First, universal vouchers expand the pool of students that the public pays for. Let's say that West Egg High School has 100 students, and East Egg Private Academy has 20. After universal vouchers become a thing, five public school students take their vouchers and head for EEPA (five others applied and EEPA refused to take them). At the same time, all 20 EEPA students--who have never set foot in a public school--also sign up to get their vouchers. 


















So, pre-vouchers, taxpayers were covering the costs for 100 students. After vouchers, the public is footing the bill for 120 students. Costs go up. Arizona opened up universal vouchers, and the vast majority of applicants were families with students already in private school. True in Iowa and Florida, as well.

Second, pro-voucher folks consistently under-estimate what the cost of the program will be (in New Hampshire they were off by over 11,000%). This is puzzling, since the question involved is "If we offer free government money to everyone who homeschools or has a child in private school, how many do you think will take it?" and that doesn't seem like a hard one to figure out.

Universal ESA vouchers like those in Arizona and Florida add a whole other level. Unaccountable voucher dollars disappear into a void, paying for all sorts of extras like big screen TVs and Disney tickets. Meanwhile, we're seeing private schools in places like Des Moines raising tuition costs because vouchers mean they can do it to increase their own revenue (increasing tuition is also a great way to keep Those Peoples' Children out). 

This is how a program billed as rescue for poor families becomes an entitlement for wealthy families. And it's a reminder that a voucher pitch claiming that vouchers will somehow save tax dollars is just not true, no matter how many times voucher advocates repeat it. 

Looking way down the road, I expect this will lead us to a battle between different flavors of choicers. For those who like vouchers because they are one step on the road to getting government completely out of education, the long term dream is a world in which few or no tax dollars go to education, and families have to scrape together what they can afford on their own. Those folks are going to reach a point where they want to shrink voucher sizes. But for those who like the idea of turning on the state money faucet and flooding private religious (okay, Christian) schools with free tax dollars, voucher shrinkage will be an unwelcome change that they will fight tooth and nail.

That's some years away, but we've seen previews. Croydon, NH, had a true voucher program that paid full tuition to send any student to the school of their family's choice, public or private. It was expensive, so the local Libertarians tried to scuttle it by reducing the money by half. 

But that's further down the road. Right now we are on track to see more Arizona-style financial issues for states that decide to go all in on vouchers for everybody. If states are smart enough to pay attention, the lessons are there. Voucher programs inevitably grow, as advocates and legislators (but never the actual voters) try to open the money faucet wider, and as the programs grow, they become increasingly expensive. 

Monday, October 9, 2023

Hess, Duncan, and the End Of National Ed Reform

Back a month or so ago we had a call from the Building Bridges Initiative and their "report" on education reform, signed by education reformsters running the gamut from A to B. 

Now, as a sort of sequel, we had an hour-long confab with Rick Hess and Arne Duncan about the future of bipartisan ed reform. Or rather the lack thereof. Especially the lack thereof. I watched it so you don't have to, and while Arnie does not exceed expectations, this is my favorite intellectually honest version of Hess.











Moderator Erica Green (New York Times) says we're looking at the landscape since 1983, and we are currently standing at a "new inflection point." She also says we've seen reform efforts throughout the years that tried to answer that "call to action." But no bigger call to action than three years ago "when the nation was literally at risk," which is a fun way of acknowledging that A Nation At Risk was overblown hype. Green says she will argue "to the ends of the earth" that children bore the brunt of the pandemic. Now, she says, "we're back on autopilot." 

So she opens with "What happened to the sense of urgency?"

Hess calls out Congress as a clown car. "So much of what passes for leadership has become performative." What gets rewarded is the people who do things to get attention and not those "who slog away." The easiest thing in the world, he says, is to have big flashy ideas and new exciting innovations, and the hard thing is to show up every day and make good decisions. "We spend a lot of time rewarding people who talk in ways that sound exciting and that has distracted us mightily." I wish he defined us more precisely, because he's saying things that teachers, who have tried really hard to avoid all the reformy distractions, can relate to mightily.

He pivots to absenteeism and bullying and unsafe schools and we have lots of labels and initiatives but not much stomach for seeing things through. 

Duncan thinks we're adrift. He wants to have clear goals in education. "We always debate small ball stuff." Oh, Arne. 

But I'm going to interrupt here because both have touched on what I think is critical, and why their idea of education reform is flagging--

Education issues are specific and local; ed reform wants to be broad and national. 

Showing up and doing the work is specific and local. Issues like absenteeism and bullying and etc etc etc are specific and local. National Ed Reform has insisted that solutions can be scaled, that we can have an idea that will fix education in 50 states. It has repeatedly run aground on that premise (Common Core is only the most spectacular example).

Okay. Back to the talking.

Arne doesn't see anyone talking about big bipartisan nation-building goals or strategies to attain them or data about who's making progress. Because, as we've repeatedly seen, Arne learned nothing from his time at USED.

Duncan wants to know, for instance, which ten districts are doing the best at recovery from covid. He will never know, because there's no way to quantify that. And it doesn't matter, because the approaches are largely specific and local.

Hess suggests a less rose-colored view of the Clinton-Bush-Obama years. Groupthink allowed people to hide a lot of bad ideas. You go, Rick. So he's for productive conversation and finding places to agree and "where we disagree, let's disagree like grownups." 

Hess: Campbell's Law has just eaten our lunch over the last twenty years. He uses that to complain about grade inflation and fake grad rates and I wish he'd dig a little deeper, but he points out that Duncan's desire for data is doomed because it's hard to trust the kinds of instruments that are being used to gather data. Yup. Can we cancel the Big Standardized Test now, please?

Green winds her way past nostalgia for when groups were fighting through robust debate and now we've got fracturing and teachers in trouble for what books they teach and maybe we need to redefine what ed reform is? Are graduation rates and test scores and NAEP scores just "a relic of a different time?" And I'd say, well, "relic" suggests there was some golden time in the past when they were useful. Maybe instead ask "Are we finally willing to admit that some of that reformy baloney failed?"

Hess says maybe that time of reform was an atypical time. Hess argues that 1983-2013 was a big time for accountability and teacher evaluation and most of our history has been arguing over books and history to teach. I don't know--in the late 70s my professors were talking about the accountability pendulum. But the culture debate has been eternal. Hess adds that families may not be thinking about school reform the same way. "If they ever were," I'd like to add, crossing my fingers that Duncan doesn't bring up disappointed suburban moms again.

Duncan wants everyone to agree on goals and actually points out that different locations would have different ways to achieve those goals, highlighting once again the huge disconnect between the words that come out of his mouth and the policies he championed.

Duncan says that parents got left behind during COVID, which is some Grade A bullshit on several levels. Parents have said they were largely happy with how their local district handled things. Then he's back to his old chestnut that parents don't really know how well their students are doing. "They think everything's okay, but it's not." He wants to measure stuff.

Hess asks Duncan what his goals are, and it's the same old thing--preK, third grade reading, grad rates, college rates.

Green is back. She wants to know who "we" are, too. Who is supposed to lead all this?

Duncan says top down and bottom up. Mayors. Governors. Senators. Parents should beat down doors. When he was in DC he was critiqued for going too fast, but he believes he went too slow. He doesn't have an answer. Everyone. He feels that nobody is really agitating for the things he wants (Hmm... what might that mean). He wants voters to hold politicians accountable for school stuff, but it doesn't happen. He has no thoughts on why not. Weirdly enough, school boards do not appear anywhere in this answer.

Green asks Hess--who is the great convener here? And is it possible?

Hess tells the story of how NAEP was created to give governors incentive to step up. 

Green calls back to a "really excellent" Mike Petrilli op-ed in NYT, which must be his No Child Left Behind nostalgia piece. She asks if we're just not saying the quiet parts out loud "like we did in A Nation at Risk or NCLB" and ho boy-- I don't know about the quiet parts, but A Nation At Risk certainly said some made up parts out loud.

Hess says ANAR was pretty crude. NCLB "was so insistent that we knew what worked and if we collected test scores and held schools to the fire then kids would do better." That was misleading about what we knew about what worked and how well we could trust the measures, and it cut parents out of the equation by saying it was "schools and schools alone and there are no excuses" He offers an illustration-- if the pediatrician says my kid is a little heavy and we should lay off the snacks and I take the kid home and open a bag of doritos, we don't say the pediatrician is bad. Which sounds very much like the kind of story that hundreds of teachers used back when reformsters told us we were whiny excuse-making babies back during NCLB. 

Hess gives credit to NCLB for changing a culture of parent blaming, but now superintendents and principals are afraid to tell parents to take away cell phones and supervise homework and get to school. And we never did talk about that honestly in any of the big reforms.

Duncan moves on to absenteeism as an example of nitty gritty roll up your sleeves that he thinks people don't have the appetite for. 

Green is still upset that we told kids their whole lives that school was the most important thing, but we opened bars first (not for the first or last time, I think that people who do/report policy work in DC or NYC desperately need to take a long out of town sabbatical). Also, she's concerned that during the shutdown many young folks got jobs and started their lives. I get the concern over the message that schools (and students) aren't really the most important thing, but that not-so-important message has been constant from long before the pandemic, communicated clearly through funding and all those politicians who don't run on education because there are no large numbers of education voters. Honestly, folks--talk to more teachers, whose morale is battered daily by this basic fact of life in this country. 

But she's worried that maybe we should just say that the system that is supposed to be so important is "fractured." But she's pushing back on Arne's idea of telling principals to go find their kids.

Arne says some stuff, but I'm going to pick out the assertion, again, that if kids get a better education, they will make better money, because this ignores other economic realities. Minimum wage jobs will still pay minimum wages, even if they hire someone with a college degree, and what we learned in the pandemic is that there are lots of working-poverty wage jobs that we absolutely want to have filled, and if every student in the country got a college degree, those jobs would still exist and still pay poorly. Put another way, advanced education gives you a better shot at coming out ahead in the competition to avoid poverty wages, but competition will still exist and some people will still lose.

More talking. Agreement that pandemic responses were bad. 

Hess says education needs to be reconfigured and fixed. Also, Hess thinks the book ban discussion is dishonest on the ALA and PenAmerica side. Parents have the right to be heard, but not to dictate. We are dismissive of parent concerns, but are reluctant to tell them to monitor smart phones.

Green pushes back a bit--everyone is climbing on educators to Get These Kids Caught Up but also legislators saying "If you use this book we will fire you." What do we do with that?

Hess shoots for nuance in a short space--12th graders should be able to read Bluest Eye, sixth grade libraries shouldn't have graphic sex in them, there has to be honest discussion and professionals have to acknowledge some legitimate parental concerns. But the whole debate has become performative.

Duncan characterizes the book debate as a rabbit hole and total waste of time and energy. "Their phone is going to corrupt them long before any freaking book." He looks a little sleepy. But he thinks they're spending more time scaring parents than actually pursuing educational goals is a waste. No argument here. "It's a devastating lack of leadership." Well, I doubt it. Not sure what kind of leadership would have stopped M4L and the MAGA crowd.

Green asks again who leads a breakthrough. Duncan reiterates the point about having conversation and honest debate, but that's not really an answer. Give parents real info. He has a real insight here--what's happening on the NAEP? "That's what's happening on the state level. That's not my kid. Who the hell cares?" Real parent empowerment by giving them real information. I cannot begin to describe how much heavy lifting "real information" is doing here, particularly since it is also laden with the premise that parents are currently given fake information.

Hess stumbles for a bit--honestly, it seems like this conversation is sucking all the energy out of the room--but arrives at the idea that one lesson of NCLB is that parents compare what they know about their kid and their school to what a single standardized math and reading test says, and they pick what they know first hand. "I trust my eyes, not your fancy data points." I'll note that in twenty years, reformsters have never come up with a good response to that, nor have they paused to consider that this widespread response might tell them something about their fancy data points, like the data collected isn't all that great, or that it represents such a tiny sliver about what parents care about in their schools that it's useless. Duncan is the poster boy for "If people really understood the situation, they would agree with me," an approach that almost never works and which, in the reformster movement, leads to the difficult to manage position of "Parents should be entrusted and empowered even though they have no real understanding of what's going on."

Hess contextualizes choice here. Pre-pandemic, it was mostly about rescuing students in bad urban schools. The post-pandemic explosion he sees as driven by a desire to give all families more choices. I'm not fully convinced; the post-pandemic explosion of vouchers and neo-vouchers hasn't been a grass roots movement, and these bills still aren't being passed democratically by voters. They are almost exclusively coming because right wing folks have captured legislatures and are feeling emboldened. Certainly there's been some noise on the ground to help this process along, but that's only a small piece of it. And of course it depends on the state or district.

Hess also argues that choice (citing DC) leads to parents paying closer attention. That's an interesting notion.

That gets us to the Q&A and I'm not going to sweat that (Duncan says yay mastery learning, and talks like a Republican about how much money has been sent to schools and where's the accountability), because we can note a couple of things here.

One is that neither one of these guys, at least one of whom is pretty smart, don't have any thoughts about how the old reformster coalition might reform. It won't, and I can think of at least two reasons.

One is that reform in the Clinton-Bush-Obama mode was largely a national undertaking, a series of attempts to set national policies that would have national effects. But the pandemic underlined, twice, that most education issues are specific and local. Building closures, teacher expectations and duties, attempts to cope--the discussion brough these issues up without noting how widely they varied district to district. Education issues are specific and local. Education issues are specific and local. 

The choice crowd already knows this. That's why they're hammering states (and calling for the federal ed department to be shuttered) and calling for their people to get in there and commandeer school boards. The most extreme of this crowd is not even really interested in choice, but in recapturing with both diverting tax dollars to private (Christian) school and pushing the religious agenda into public schools. And this dovetails nicely with those who still want the Friedman dream of dismantling public education and making schooling a commodity that each family is responsible for procuring on their own. 

Those folks have left the old reformster crowd in the dust. The bipartisan movement that they're nostalgic for is done. Of course Duncan and Hess can't come up with any names for leadership forward; as Hess correctly notes, the big names are all busy making noise for clicks and attention and money from big contributors. They're also, it should be noted, angling for cushy platform gigs with advocacy groups and think tanks. I imagine that when MAGA education dudebros like Rufo and Walters and DeAngelis look back at the Clinton-Bush-Obama era they might think, "Well, it was nice that they kind of broke some ground for us, but they are dinosaurs, tinkering around with scalpels. It's up to us to get out the flamethrowers and do what must be done. They're history. We're the future, and we don't need to form coalitions--we need to bend people to our will."

The modern reformster movement, as much space as I spend writing about it, is dead. Much of what it wanted--high stakes testing, charter schools, nationalized standards--is now part of the education status quo. As this conversation shows, one of the reasons they can't muster a new coalition is that there really aren't any goals to rally around. Duncan's four goals are not matters for national policy, and they're not particularly clear or specific anyway. And as they sadly note, the angry Moms and the performative flamethrower guys have all the attention anyway. 

Re: Microschools and the hype cycle

Last week I wrote a brief explainer about microschools, and it prompted a response from Travis Pillow. I love me some thoughtful back and forth on the interwebs, and I want to respond to his response. 

Pillow started out as a reporter in Tallahassee and has since gone on to work at the Center on Reimagining Public Education (CRPE), Jeb Bush's ExcelinEd, and Step Up For Students, the company that does the go-between money-handling for voucher programs. He's their Director of Thought Leadership these days.

In his response, Pillow properly places the recent history of microschools in the context the pandemic, back when learning pods were a thing. CRPE was big on them at the time, and there were plenty of situations in which they were hugely helpful (there were also some bizarre outliers, like the literal country club pods). Pandemic pods were a pretty direct solution to an obvious problem--school buildings that were closed.

Pillow argues that in the pod process, families discovered other benefits. CRPE did its own survey and found that teachers had way more flexibility and supportive relationships with families, which we could chalk up to really small class composed of handpicked students. Pillow cites a "more humane environments in big and small ways (like getting a snack whenever you'd like).

Also, "adults from more diverse backgrounds, like parents or community volunteers who loved working with kids but lacked a teaching certificate, found new opportunities to share their passions." That strikes as a mixed bag, but mostly it reminds me that the microschool movement in many ways resembles the re-invention of the local school district.

After noting that many folks went back to the advantages of "conventional" schools, Pillow offers an answer to my question of "what problem does microschooling solve?"

But other families latched on to the growing array of microschools that, at least for the educators who created them or the families who used them, solve any number of the problems plaguing public education: youth mental health is in crisis, teacher morale is flagging, voluntary community associations are desiccated, students are often disengaged if they’re showing up at all, bonds of trust between schools and families are fraying.

I have some big questions. Nobody seems to know how many microschools are operating. In 2022, EdChoice cited the CRPE estimate that around 1 to 2 million students were in microschools, which strikes me as the kind of huge number I would expect from folks who want to push microschools as a policy solution. 

But Pillow talks about teacher-created microschsools, and I'm super-curious about that concept, because my gut says that such microschools make up a tiny percentage of the total microschools out there. After all, from a teacher's point of view, microschools would present a challenge when it comes to salary and benefits. It's gig economy work, with all the drawbacks that come with it. The State Policy Network (that right wing network of right-tilted thinky tanks and advocacy groups) likes microschools, and they acknowledge three flavors-- 

Provider Network-- a chain operation like Prenda that will help local folks set up their own "franchise"

Partnership-- a host partner, like a employer, local government, non-profit or church, works with a technical partner that handles the actual providing of the school parts.

Independent-- basically a 21st century one room schoolhouse, "created by an individual, team, or a group of families"

Like the elusive teacher-run charter school, teacher-created microschools don't seem to make up much of the landscape. I'm genuinely curious about how many microschools there are and who started and runs them, but I doubt that anyone is likely to have that information any time soon. 

But back to Pillow:

It takes a special kind of cynic to imagine the current blossoming of small learning environments where teachers are free to realize their peculiar vision for what learning could look like and partner with families to make it happen is the brainchild of a few voucher advocates.

There is a lot to unpack here. I may, in fact, be a special kind of cynic. But I'm not sure microschools are in fact environments in which teachers are free to realize their peculiar vision. As I said, I'm not sure there are that many teachers involved. If by "teachers," Pillow means "any person who has been put in charge of a bunch of students," then maybe he's right, but that also suggests a very broad range of peculiar visions. There is a whole oversight and accountability to taxpayers piece missing from microschools. 

That said, I do not imagine that microschools are the brainchildren of a few voucher fans.I have no doubt that if I toured a bunch of them, I would find that some, as Pillow argues, full of plenty positive energy, because I strongly suspect that microschools are useful when they are a local solution to a local problem. But I remain convinced that the continued attempts to promote them as a policy solution, which just happen to come mostly from voucher fans, is an attempt to co-opt the idea as a way to plug a policy hole. 

Vouchers overcome very few of the real obstacles to school choice (tuition costs, private school selectivity and discrimination, location), but microschools allow everyone from Betsy DeVos to the State Policy Network to wave these problems away by saying, "Well, everyone can set up a microschool!" When Croydon, NH, libertarians tried to defund an actual, functioning school voucher program, microschools were presented as the solution. 
















I am delighted that Pillow includes Gartner's Hype Cycle. His theory is that microschools are heading into the Trough of Disillusionment, and I think he has a reasonable assessment of some of the challenges they face, like financial stability, reporting student outcomes, special ed, and transportation, but when he adds "other essential infrastructure that ensures they’re accessible to all students" I have questions again, because microschools by their very nature are not about being accessible to all students, but setting up something local for a select group of local students. 

If he means that we should find ways to make microschools available everywhere, I think he hits another problem. Microschools may work for very specific, very local situations, but that's what they're good for. They aren't scalable (it's right there in the name). This problem I'd argue, is at the heart of the end of "education reform" as a national movement--all education problems are local and specific and attempts to scale solutions on a national level are problematic.

I’m willing to bet that anyone who actually visited these learning environments, or spoke to the educators who worked there, would come away with their cynicism punctured and a belief that these bottom-up efforts are getting so much attention precisely because they’re positing novel solutions to countless different problems facing young people and the public education.

I bet I'd be impressed by some of the work that's going on in some microschools. My cynicism is reserved for folks who intent on co-opting the movement into a way to prop up their ongoing attempts to dismantle and privatize public education.