Politics and Education

Did you get a chance to read my recent post on creating a culture of "doing" instead of "knowing" in schools?  It has sparked a ton of interest and a bunch of great thinking -- both here on the Radical and in the other spaces that I mentally wrestle in. 

The strand that challenges me the most, however, was best articulated by John Spencer, who wrote: 

I don't think it's a culture "of this, instead of this." Paulo Freire was right when he said it needs to be a cycle of action and reflection. Too much of one and it becomes shallow, close-minded activism. Too much of the other and it becomes useless intellectualism. They're both necessary.

John's point is a simple one:  "Instead" thinking is often unhealthy when it creeps its way into schools -- and to suggest that knowing is fundamentally unimportant would be foolish.

In fact, it would be nearly impossible to successfully take action without a foundational understanding of the content behind the issues and ideas that you care the most about. 

Bradley Zakarin shared similar thinking in Twitter when he wrote:

@plugusin Artificial lines b/t do/know (or action/research) hinder student pursuits at both ends of spectrum. Can DO better w/ KNOWLEDGE.

— Bradley Zakarin (@bzeducon) January 29, 2012

 

Long story short: Balance matters, right?

Here's the thing, though - There IS no balance in schools today.  Curriculum writers and politicians have slapped together courses of study that leave NO ROOM for doing. 

Take the North Carolina sixth grade science curriculum as an example.

We tackle everything from a study of the layers of the earth and the formation of minerals to the way that light, sound and heat transfer energy.  We look at why humans should protect soil, how space exploration has benefited mankind, and how species adapt to their habitats. 

We talk about the differences between the planets.  We look at earthquake and volcano patterns.  We learn about convection and conduction.  We wrestle with symbiosis, mutualism and parasitism.  We examine food chains.  We study the parts of waves -- both transverse and longitudinal.  We look at convex and concave lenses.

We study the parts of the eye and ear.  We discuss the Law of Conservation of Energy. We explore the differences between potential and kinetic energy.  We learn about how the gravitational pull of the sun and the moon influence the earth.

Are you starting to get a sense for just HOW massive the knowing part of our curriculum really is?

The results are really quite simple:  There's not a whole heck of a lot of time for doing in classrooms.

Here's a tangible example of how this changes the instructional decisions made by teachers:  Marsha Ratzel -- a buddy of mine teaching science in Kansas -- introduced me to the Science for Citizens website yesterday. 

She describes it like this:

Science for Citizens offers regular folks like me (if I'm regular I guess) the chance to participate in science projects from right where we live, doing pretty normal stuff and then sending in what we learn to the principal investigators.

Can't get much more "doing" than that, can you? 

But here's the hitch:  While I LOVE the idea of getting my kids involved in projects that would give them a chance to be a part of a much larger community of practicing scientists -- a lesson I think is pretty darn important for them to learn -- I literally WORRY about incorporating any of the projects into my classroom because I'm already  a month behind in my curriculum. 

The moral of the story is that I believe in balance too.  We can't throw the content baby out with the bathwater.  "Instead" thinking really isn't any healthier for schools than "Yeah, But" thinking.

But let's not pretend that what we have in schools now is a finely balanced knowing-doing experience. 

From my point of view, we're not "doing" much more than sprinting our way to know-where.

Any of this make sense?  Do y'all feel that the knowing-doing balance is out of whack in your worlds too, or do your kids have plenty of chances to take an action-stance towards their content -- and more importantly, their communities?

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Related Radical Reads:

What If Schools Created a Culture of Do INSTEAD of a Culture of Know?

Stuffing Kids with Content

Brainpop and the Overloaded Curriculum

Skills Matter More than Tools

 

 

 

Cranky Blogger Warning: From time to time here on the Radical, I feel like a ranting lunatic driven by emotion rather than solution-oriented blogger driven by reason.  Now might just be one of those times.  Take what I write tonight with a grain of salt -- or a gallon of gin.  Dealer's choice.

__________________________________________

Poke through my thoughts about technology's role in public education and you'll hear me preach over and over again about the importance of working to transform teaching REGARDLESS of the number of computers you have in your classroom.

That's a very personal message simply because I don't live in a 1:1 world. 

Heck, I don't even live in a 10:1 world.

Like most teachers, I've spent the better part of the past decade making due with limited access to labs with dozens of computers in need of Flash updates.  Sure, we've got a few laptop carts -- but they've sadly become dilapidated wrecks that we can't afford to replace. 

#soundfamiliar?

For the most part, I've tried to be tolerant of that reality. More importantly, I've consistently encouraged anyone who bothers to listen to be tolerant of that reality, too.

"It's not like your schools and districts don't WANT to provide you with access to the kinds of digital tools that you need in order to change teaching and learning in your classroom," I preach.  "It's just darn near impossible to appropriately outfit classrooms given the limits of district budgets."

There's some truth in there, right?

Times HAVE been unusually tight.  Geez - here in North Carolina there hasn't even been money to give teachers cost-of-living adjustments in the past 4 years.  Where ARE we supposed to get the cash to invest in classroom technology.

#soundfamiliar?

But I'm sick of being tolerant, y'all. 

I'm sick of hearing critics hammer teachers for being resistant to change while I'm STILL sitting in cut-and-paste classrooms full of textbooks, glue sticks and safety scissors.  I'm sick of educational soothsayers conjuring up visions of 21st Century learning environments that I'll NEVER be able to create with the three working computers plugged into the corner of my classroom. 

I'm sick of telling my students that they'll have to wait until they get home to answer the questions that they care the most about.  I'm sick of standing in line behind twelve other teachers waiting to make photocopies because handouts are the only instructional resource that we have consistent access to. 

#soundfamiliar?

Most importantly, I'm sick of pretending that I stand a chance of convincing kids who understand just how personalized and engaging learning can be that my ridiculously quaint, completely unplugged, intellectually standardized classroom is anything OTHER than a big, fat waste of time.

The genie's out of the bottle, y'all. 

Like Scott McLeod recently argued, our kids KNOW that traditional learning environments are irrelevant -- and pretty much everyone with a pulse KNOWS that our schools need to change, but NO ONE is willing to put their money where their mouths are. 

You (and I don't care if "you" are a pundit, a parent or a politician) want to see my instruction change?

Find a way to give me some new tools to experiment with. 

I don't care how you do it. Force through some ridiculously sick bond referendum earmarked for technology and technology only.  Figure out a way to make Bring Your Own Device Programs work in your communities.  Pass the hat at Chamber of Commerce meetings. 

But whatever you do, quit ranting about the crappy job I'M doing until YOU'RE actually willing to pony up some cabbage or to help cut through red tape to create solutions that give me a fighting chance of actually doing my job well.

Quit crying about the dioramas my kids are making when the supply closet is chock-a-block full of crayolas.  Quit acting so surprised that my kids aren't networking with the world when the only lenses that we have to look through are dated textbooks.  Quit asking for "timely feedback" when I'm collecting data by hand with clipboards and post-it notes.  

I guess what I'm saying is quit asking me to perform instructional miracles.

My well of professional tolerance has run dry. 

#soundfamiliar?

(Glad I got that off my chest.  I almost feel better already.  Now where's my red checking pen? I have essays to grade.)

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Related Radical Reads:

How Limited Technology Budgets Failed My Students

More on the Challenges of Wondering in Schools

Your Data Dream. My Data Nightmare

 

Good question, isn't it?  And a question that I've asked myself about a million times as I've proctored my state's sixth grade reading and math tests considering how FEW of the questions on the math test -- my personal weakness -- I'm ever able to figure out.

More importantly, it's a question that I've wanted to see state policymakers -- who seem hell-bent on tying test scores to systems of teacher and student evaluation -- answer publicly. 

I mean, seriously:  If you are so flippin' confident that tests are a reliable tool for failing students and canning teachers, shouldn't you be willing to take those same tests and have YOUR results made public to the world?

Well, that's EXACTLY what Rick Roach -- a successful businessman and current school board member in Orange County, Florida -- did this year, and his results may surprise you:  He earned a 62% on the 10th grade reading exam and literally had to guess at every question on the math test, eventually getting 10 out of 60 questions right. 

What Rick learned from the experience ought to be tattooed onto the foreheads of every single elected official in the nation.  He writes:

“If I’d been required to take those two tests when I was a 10th grader, my life would almost certainly have been very different. I’d have been told I wasn’t ‘college material,’ would probably have believed it, and looked for work appropriate for the level of ability that the test said I had.

“It makes no sense to me that a test with the potential for shaping a student’s entire future has so little apparent relevance to adult, real-world functioning.

Who decided the kind of questions and their level of difficulty? Using what criteria? To whom did they have to defend their decisions? As subject-matter specialists, how qualified were they to make general judgments about the needs of this state’s children in a future they can’t possibly predict?

Who set the pass-fail “cut score”? How?”

“I can’t escape the conclusion that decisions about the [state test] in particular and standardized tests in general are being made by individuals who lack perspective and aren’t really accountable.”

Thank you, Rick -- for going out on a limb and for speaking the truth about end of grade exams.  Not only do they carry incredibly high stakes, they test skills that no one really cares about. 

Now if only your peers in the #edpolicy world had half of your guts

#unlikely

#cowards

If you've read the Radical for any length of time, you'll know that I pretty much despise the carrot-and-stick approach to managing teachers and students that seems to be all the rage in education right now (see here, here and here).

What's completely wild is that many of the top organizational thinkers who are working largely in fields beyond education -- including Authorspeak Keynote presenter Daniel Pink -- agree that incentive programs almost NEVER work.


Download Slide_ThePerfectCarrot

 

Chip and Dan Heath -- authors of a TON of great reads including The Myth of the Garage, a completely free Corwin eBook -- are no less critical of our fascination with incentive programs than Pink.

In Myth of the Garage, they compare incentive programs to the popular urban legend of a Darwin Award winner who strapped a rocket engine to his Chevy Impala looking for the ultimate joy ride only to end up "as a human flapjack" on the side of a lonely Arizona mountain.

The Heaths write:

Incentives are like that jet engine.  There's no question the engine will take you somewhere, fast, but it's not always clear where.  Or who you're going to mow down on the way.

Yet incentives are still the first resort of most managers.  We all think we're smart enough to create the perfect carrot.

(Kindle locations 357-363)

So what makes incentive programs so dangerous -- particularly in fields like education?

According to Chip and Dan Heath, incentive programs inevitably cause well-intentioned people to fall victim to a focusing illusion.  Instead of taking multiple measures into account when judging performance, we overemphasize the single variable that we are attempting to measure.

In other words, when all you are worried about measuring is how fast your car can fly down a dry desert lakebed, you tend to forget about the mountain that you're sprinting towards at 300 miles per hour. 

The Heaths write:

"To be fair, there are some contexts where one variable dominates.  If you're employing a field sales rep who is selling a simple, self-contained product, then it probably makes sense to tie incentives to the sale.

If you're traveling a long, straight road, the jet engine will get you there faster.

But chances are you don't live in a one-variable world.  In your complicated, squishy, matrixed world, if you're dreaming up an incentive plan, you're almost certainly in the grips of a focusing illusion."

(Kindle locations 386-391)

Now, I don't know about you, but I can't think of a MORE "complicated, squishy, matrixed world" than education

The honest truth is that we -- teachers, principals, parents, policymakers, community leaders, students -- DO care about multiple variables when looking at the outcomes of education.

Sure we want students to become better readers and writers.  Sure, mathematical competency is an essential outcome for every student. 

But in an era when incentives -- and pretty darn serious consequences -- for both teachers and students have been tied to just two testable variables, I've GOT to believe that we're in the grips of one seriously wicked focusing illusion too. 

My only hope is that we'll come to our senses and switch off the rocket before we run out of road.

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Related Radical Reads:

Bulldozing the Forests

The Monster You've Created

Statistically Snookered

The Unintended Consequence of Incentive Programs in Schools

 

 

 

Original Image Credit: Minty Python’s Frying Circuits 5/52 by Neal

Licensed Creative Commons Attribution on December 23, 2011

 

 

 

After swinging through Target and dropping another $10 bucks on supplies that I need for an upcoming science lab, I decided to pull out my envelope o' receipts and see how much I've spent on school purchases so far this year. 

Grand total: $875 -- and that only includes the stuff I remembered to save receipts for.

It also doesn't include the money that I've spent on registrations and travel to conferences -- another $535 that had to come out of my own pocket after the state of North Carolina gutted the teacher professional development budget to pay the bills.

Here are five spending highlights I thought you might get a kick out of:

The most expensive single purchases: A Livescribe pen ($122), a subscription to Poll Everywhere ($50), and a wired router to get my classroom's three computers up and running ($42.46). 

The most common purchases: Science lab materials including 9 thermometers ($57), mineral oil ($19), milk ($4.82) and spaghetti ($10.58).

The purchases that I probably could have lived without: New books for my classroom bookshelf ($113).

The purchases that are the most direct result of slashed #edbudgets: Cleaning supplies including a mop and mop bucket to clean my lab floors ($42.48) and the rental of a carpet cleaner to clean the carpets in our team's other classrooms ($36.91).  

The cheapest purchase: A kickball ($6.53)

What's REALLY CRAZY is that the $875 that I've spent so far -- which works out to roughly $73 per month, y'all -- is actually LESS than I've spent in the past few years. I've intentionally cut back on my school spending because I'm as broke as everyone else!

Now let me be perfectly honest with you:  If I worked hard enough at it, I probably could have gotten SOME of my purchases covered in other ways. 

The parents of my students, for example, are pretty terrific at sending in lab supplies when I remember to ask for them with enough advance warning -- and my principal can be pretty creative at finding spare change to squeeze out of his budgets.

I need all y'all to know, though, that teachers ARE subsidizing public education in America by purchasing needed supplies for their classrooms out of their own pockets-- and those subsidies are becoming more and more important as districts struggle to find ways to balance budgets in difficult economic times.

Are we okay with that?

#uncomfortabletruth

#myreality

 

In one of the more surprising decisions that a public school district has made in recent memory, the Jefferson County Public Schools in Colorado has started selling advertising space on student report cards.

For $90,000, Colorado's nonprofit education savings plan has bought the right to slap a big, fat advertisement on the bottom of every student report card for the next three years. 

In a district with 86,000 students who presumably get four report cards per year, that works out to about 3 cents per placement. 

Now, I understand WHY JEFFCO has been forced into this ridiculous decision:  Schools everywhere are feeling the pinch of poor economies. 

That means we either need to find new revenue streams -- which is the choice JEFFCO has made -- or we need to cut expenses even more than we already have.

#brokeyall

But doesn't this scare anyone besides me?

In my horribly pessimistic mind, I can see the "next steps" playing out in sickening ways:

Local businesses will buy the right to print coupons on the bottom of student report cards as a part of behavior incentive and/or academic rewards programs. 

As skeptical New Zealand educator Allan Alach pointed out in Twitter today, this is the PERFECT "socially responsible" marketing plan for Burger King, McDonalds and Pizza Hut, isn't it?

For every A he earns, Johnny gets a coupon for a free Whopper when a large drink and a side of fries are purchased.  For every B, little Johnny will get a free Biggie Size upgrade on any Value Meal purchased.

And OBVIOUSLY -- like my equally skeptical buddy Chris Wejr mentioned on Twitter today -- kids with Fs will get coupons for free tutoring sessions at local learning centers. 

Recognizing that some customers are worth far more than others, businesses will start negotiating different rates depending on the schools that their advertisements run in. 

"We'll give you 1.1 cents for every ad you run in that poor, failing, inner-city school," the conversation will go, "and 3.8 cents for every ad you run in the affluent suburbs."

Worse yet, some strapped-for-cash district leader will buy into the "some communities are worth more than others" argument and hold out for 5 cents per ad in the rich schools. 

In a seemingly spontaneous moment of sheer brilliance, some business leader will suggest marketing different products to families of different ethnic groups or socio-economic status.

In the worst case scenario, stereotypical assumptions about the interests of families of different races or classes will drive choices for advertisements.

"How about museum coupons for kids in the suburbs and Putt-Putt Golf and Games coupons for kids in the inner city?" the supposedly harmless thinking will go.

#sickeninglyprobable

In the best case scenario, new marketing companies will come in and offer parents the chance to choose the types of coupons and advertisements they want to see on the bottom of their kid's report card.

"Would y'all prefer food coupons or entertainment coupons?" the thinking will go.  "We offer both.  How GREAT is that?!"

#barelytolerable

In another seemingly spontaneous moment of sheer brilliance, some district leader will start selling the rights to print advertisments on interim reports, too.

Why stop at formal report cards, right?  Our school sends home grade sheets a few times per quarter.  If we're slapping ads on report cards, why NOT slap ads on those interim reports, too?

Sure, half of our interim reports never make it home -- but they've GOT to be worth someething, right?

And what about that "beginning of the year" paperwork that goes home every year: Supply lists, student data sheets, course outlines.  That's prime marketing real estate too, isn't it? 

Aren't parents more likely to be on the lookout for papers early in the year -- and if so, can't we make MORE money by selling ads on THOSE kinds of documents? 

#endlesspossibility

In a final seemingly spontaneous moment of sheer brilliance, local charter and private schools will begin buying ad space on the bottom of report cards in failing schools and districts.

Recognizing that this could put their own schools out of business, district officials will balk. 

Feeling jilted -- and losing easy access to a potentially huge market for their services -- the private and charter schools will sue, claiming that they are being unfairly discriminated against by a public agency.

The trial will last 2 years and cost taxpayers $2.2 million dollars to defend. 

Crazy stuff, isn't it?  What makes it crazier is that every one of my fictional scenarios is TOTALLY possible. 

So here's another solution:  Why don't we start providing our schools with the cash that they need in order to educate our children WITHOUT having to sell advertising space on student report cards.

Is that REALLY asking too much?

 

Let’s start with a simple truth that everyone seems to like to wave in the faces of public school teachers: Our schools are struggling to prepare graduates for the increasingly complex workplaces that they are going to inherit.

As Tony Wagner writes in The Global Achievement Gap, the results of this failure have the potential to be catastrophic:

“In short, our young people are now in direct competition with youth from developing countries for many of what traditionally have been considered our ‘good middle-class white-collar” jobs.

While some of our students are learning skills that enable them to interpret and manipulate information and data, the sheer numbers of students who are learning these skills in other countries and the fact that they will work for much less put our students at an extreme competitive disadvantage.”

(Kindle Location 223-226)

That’s not a new message, right? People – including Thomas Friedman – have have been writing about the consequences of an increasingly connected and knowledge-driven globe for years.

Here’s the hitch, though: Despite repeated warnings about the urgent need to rethink the kinds of skills that we spend our time on in schools, education looks no different today than it did a decade ago.

Worse yet, in an effort to “hold schools accountable,” our #edpolicy leaders – including Bam and Arne – continue to push policies on schools that reward a strict adherence to the kinds of simple skills that can be measured by standardized tests.

But Bam and Arne aren’t the only ones to blame.

Our communities are responsible, too. After all, we simultaneously bemoan the sad state of education in America while electing leaders who make easy choices that perpetuate the status quo.

When we finally realize that standardized test scores are a failed indicator – of our children’s workforce readiness AND of the success or failure of schools and teachers – we might just be ready to move towards more meaningful work in our classrooms.

What would that “more meaningful work” look like?


Here’s what global education expert Matt Friedrick* has to say about the kind of skills that students should be learning in our classrooms:

Leading in today’s conceptual, global age requires entirely new skills for our students, and an education system that delivers these skills.

Today’s students will inherit a world that is fundamentally different from the past – one where leadership means communicating effectively in more than one language, confronting challenges in new and innovative ways, adjusting as the world around them changes, and collaborating with a wide range of people.

Friedrick breaks these essential behaviors into a set of five LEAD skills that he believes should be defining the work that we are doing with the students in our schools:

Language : Communicating in English and in at least one strategic foreign language.

Entrepreneurship : Devising new ways to respond to local, national, and global needs.

Adaptability : Adjusting to new information and media; continually learning new knowledge and skills.

Diplomacy : Collaborating effectively with increasingly diverse groups of people.

Good stuff, isn’t it? If you are a parent, wouldn’t you feel better if your child mastered these skills before graduation?

Sure you would – and you wouldn’t be alone. Business leaders surveyed regularly report wanting workers who are experts at seemingly soft skills like adapting, imagining and collaborating.

Now there’s nothing inherently new about Friedrick’s LEAD skills. They are similar to the seven survival skills laid out by Wagner in The Global Achievement Gap and to the ten skills and behaviors that The Partnership for 21st Century Skills believes in.

But I honestly believe that the LEAD skills framework has the ability to have a far greater impact on American education than Wagner’s work or the work of the P21 team.

Here’s why: The LEAD framework takes a complex concept and makes it approachable to the general public.

Think about it – Wagner’s book has been out since 2008 and the P21 folks have been working in this space since 2002 yet nothing has really changed about the way that we do business in schools.

Why would such good thinking – thinking that forms the foundation of the most progressive conversations we have about teaching and learning in today’s world – go largely unnoticed?

My guess is that parents – the stakeholder that we most need to start pushing for positive change in schools – can’t get their heads wrapped around the language used by individuals like Wagner and the P21 team.

It’s not that the concepts don’t resonate. It’s that the concepts haven’t been delivered in approachable language that parents can embrace.

And that’s what Friedrick has delivered with his LEAD framework.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that the only way we’re going to get schools to shift towards the kinds of learning spaces that are necessary for truly leaving today’s kids prepared for tomorrow’s world is to start to develop partnerships with parents.

We need discerning voters. We need intellectual advocates that are willing to push back against the simplistic attempts of #edpolicy wonks to define “mastery.” We need critics who are vocal AND able to articulate a vision for something better than we currently have.

I believe parents WANT to be those partners.

Developing advocacy partnerships, however, depends on dejargonizing the language that we’re using to describe the changes that we believe in.

I believe that Friedrick’s LEAD framework might just be the first step in the right direction that we’ve taken in a long, long time towards getting parents back on our side in the fight for an educational program that matters.

Any of this making sense?

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Related Radical Reads:

Is Racing to the Top Even POSSIBLE, Arne?

Arne’s Half-Baked Plan for Fixing Schools

Are we REALLY Preparing Kids for the Global Economy?

 

 

*Full Disclosure: I know Matt Friedrick well – and few people have had more of an impact on my thinking as he has. He challenges me regularly and I almost always am thankful for the opportunity to learn from him.

He’s got this right, y’all. And I would say it even if I didn’t know him.

And he’s just started Tweeting. I’d recommend you follow him if you’re interested in learning more about how LEAD skills can change our schools for the better.

He hasn’t posted a ton yet – but I’m sure that over time, his stream will be a valuable resource.

So I don't have a ton of time to write today -- I'm sitting in an airport on the way home from Solution Tree's Authorspeak conference and am about to board a flight home to my family -- but I had to get something off of my chest:

I'm sick of simplistic #edpolicies built around the idea that teachers need cash incentives in order to produce.

The fact of the matter -- as Daniel Pink argued convincingly in his Tuesday morning keynote presentation -- is that the notion that cash incentives work in creative professions like education is nothing short of "American folklore."

We like to believe it, right?

I mean, #jeez, we were literally RAISED on cash incentives.

My mom and dad called it an allowance!

But just because we like to believe something doesn't make it true -- and the truth as reported in study after study is that for anything that requires more than "rudimentary cognitive ability" cash incentives are ineffective and may actually lead to a poorer performance than in situations where incentives were never offered.

Check out this RSA Animate video to learn more:

 

So if this is all true -- and I believe it is -- then why in the WORLD is our federal education policy built around introducing cash rewards and merit pay into education?  Isn't that just ANOTHER example of our tax dollars going to waste?

More importantly, if this is all true, why in the WORLD are we tolerating school-based behavior incentive programs like PBIS?  Isn't it time that we start to rethink the kinds of "incentives" that we're offering to teachers and students?

#justsayin

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Related Radical Reads:

Performance Pay Will KILL Our Schools

The TRUTH About Teacher Merit Pay Plans

The Unintended Consequences of Reward Programs in Schools

 

 

I've read a ton of reviews lately of The Mitchell 20 -- a remarkable education documentary film driven by my good friend Kathy Wiebke that details the efforts of a group of 20 teachers in a high-poverty Phoenix elementary school to change the lives of their students by changing their own practice.

I guess I'm struggling to find the right words to explain how powerful the film is.

That's why I was so jazzed to find a comment from a teacher named Jill Saia on Nancy Flanagan's review of The Mitchell 20. 

Jill wrote:

My faculty and I can't wait to see The Mitchell 20; for some reason we feel that we are living the same story right now.

Like Mitchell, we are NOT waiting for superman; we are digging in, collborating, and working very long hours to improve our students and ourselves.

In the end, that's the BEST summary for The Mitchell 20:  It is the story of a group of teachers who collectively recognize that waiting for superman is a strategy that is failing our poorest students.

 It is the story of a group of teachers who recognize that super powers really do rest somewhere deep within every teacher who takes up the challenge of working in our highest needs communities.

It is the story of what one group of colleagues can do when they decide to fight back by studying their practice collectively with one another---even when their backs are against the wall and they're working in forgotten communities.

I won't lie: The Mitchell 20 made me wet in the eyes more than once simply because it is the story of passion and service and professionalism and need and hope all wrapped into one.

And I needed that. 

Surrounded by failed policies, destructive policymakers, and constant attacks, I've started to doubt that our public schools -- and more importantly, children in our poorest communities -- REALLY have a chance.

What The Mitchell 20 reminded me is that as long as there are teachers with a heart for children and a determination to study their craft together -- and as long as we are politically willing to get out of their way -- there is ALWAYS a chance for EVERY child in EVERY community.

That's a message we ALL need to hear.

Here's the trailer:

 

 

 

When are YOU going to see the whole film?

More importantly, when are YOU going to forward the trailer to YOUR local school board members, state representives, or federal legislators?

This isn't a film that they can afford to miss if we really care about EVERY child.

______________________________________________________

Related Radical Reads:

Are YOUR Kids Living a Silent War?

Are High-Poverty Schools Just Another Debate?

Does ANYONE Love Public Schools?

Lessons Learned from the LeBronathon

 

 

 

 

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