I happened to have a conversation with a stranger this past weekend at a friend's get-together.  She is a middle-aged woman.  When I told her I was a teacher, she smiled. "How long have you been teaching? she asked.

"Six years," I said. 

    "Oh, wow," she said surprised. "That's a long time." 

        It is? I thought. 

        "Do you like it?" she asked.

        "Most of the time," I said. "It's very hard work, but I do like it."

        "You like the kids, I mean?" she asked.

        "The kids? Oh sure! Adolescents can be trying, but they're great!"

        "That's wonderful," she said. "Some of my friends who are teachers are just so unhappy with it; with the board, I mean..." 

        "Well, I can understand that. There are a lot of problems with NYC public schools, but I don't think it's the kids."  

       "What is it then?" she asked.

        I thought about it. There were so many answers to that question, but this is what I came up with.

        "Two things come to mind.  First, the schools are very outdated.  We are still trying to get every kid to learn the same arbitrary things at the same arbitrary time in lock step, as if they were factory workers on a conveyer belt and learning were as simple as fastening one metal piece to another and passing it to the right. Research shows that humans really learn through experience, yet it is very hard to find a classroom where there are authentic experiences for kids to learn from.  On top of that, kids today are also experiencing the world in new ways through technology and internet connectivity, but we mostly shut off those modes of experience in classrooms.  We have to update our classrooms and pedagogy to capitalize on what we know about how the human brain works and how kids today are interacting with the world that will soon be theirs.  

    "The second problem is the way decisions are made within the education field. Teachers are the single most important factor in a child's learning, and we are the ones who make a million decisions daily inside our classrooms.  Yet we are given next to no input into the larger-scale decisions designed to impact our teaching and our children's learning.  In fact, the people making those decisions--politicians, policy makers--usually have little or no actual teaching experience, yet they operate under the assumption that they know what's best for us, our students, and our classrooms. Why?  Where is the logic in that? There is a huge disconnect between the board of education at the city, state and national level, and classroom teachers, which is keeping education reforms from bearing any fruit for actual students."

        I was glad that what I was saying seemed to make sense to her.  She explained that her teenage son had a lot of trouble in NYC public schools.  This year she had finally made the decision to send her son to a boarding school for kids who had failed in traditional school settings.  So far it was going well. Luckily, she had the financial means to do this.  

        What will happen to all the other kids who are failing in/being failed by our outdated school system?  Does anyone really believe that all the government funding being pumped into testing and data systems is going to give failing kids a better chance?

[image credit:fotosearch.com]

 I just read this op-ed by Bob Herbert, "In Search of Education Leaders" in the New York Times about a new doctoral program at Harvard in "Educational Leadership" that will be tuition free.

If you haven't seen it, it is worth checking out. 

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/12/05/opinion/05herbert.html?hp

It left me slightly confused.  First, I think Herbert does a good job of showing readers why there is a need for huge change in education, and for with the vision and skills to lead it.  What confuses me is whether or not Harvard's program will create education leaders who are any different than those we already have. In the NY Times article, the dean of the program, Kathleen McCartney says, “If you look at people who are running districts, some come from traditional schools of education, and they understand the core business of education but perhaps are a little weak on the management side. And then you’ve got the M.B.A.-types who understand operations, let’s say, but not so much teaching and learning.”

So it seems the program aims to produce well-rounded ed reformers who understand both business and management as well as teaching and learning.  That leaves me wondering how these candidates are going to learn about teaching and learning in a doctoral program at Harvard?  There is no mention here (or anywhere else I searched) of the role of teachers in this vision.  There is nothing that says a candidate needs to have taught in classrooms, especially those that serve Black and Hispanic students, the population Herbert says is most in danger of not getting a decent education, an important piece of his case for new leaders in American education.  

I myself read this news and thought, so let's say I were interested in the vision of this program.  What does it mean to be an education leader and how does this fit with my desire to also be a teacher?  An article at Boston.com states, "The program aims to train graduates for senior leadership roles in school systems, government agencies, nonprofit organizations, and the private sector."  Does this mean that graduates of this program will not be teachers, teacher leaders, or even principals, all of whom work in actual schools and and are responsible for educating actual students?   

On the one hand, I get it.  We live in a hierarchical society.  Government itself is hierarchical and the people at the top are mostly NOT equipped to tackle the issues of education in the 21st century, though they need to be. That's what creates the imperative for innovative new programs to help fill in the gaping holes education policy makers are currently staring down into or trying to cover up.  The reality seems to be--at least at present time-- that if you work in government, you probably cannot also be a classroom teacher.  Nonetheless, I'm skeptical about the idea that graduates of this program will be in any better position to transform American education than current education reformers are so long as teachers are left out.   

Turning the question around, could a classroom teacher--or group of classroom teachers--become a major force in education reform?  I think yes.  Teacher Leaders Network and, in a different way, unions seem to be examples of this.  I'd be much more optimistic if I knew that a group of teachers were entering Harvard's program and would graduate having created and prepared to take on hybrid roles--splitting their time between actual classroom teaching and working closely with senior "educational leaders" to help transform education.  

Who will create that program? 

[image credit: life.com]

I just returned from the Bay Area of California, where I spent a week enjoying the last moments of real summer vacation, before entering heavy preparation mode for the new school year.  I breathed fresh air, slept in the mountains, saw wild horses, took a dip in hot springs, and met some cool people while out here. 

I crossed paths with two children who reminded me that there is no one right way to educate. 

G and his parents live most of the way "off the grid" in the mountains of Ukiah two hours north of the city.  I met G in a room in the barn on "the Property," that is part kitchen, part living room, part library and part music room.  He looked to be about 17.  He was fixing himself lunch and reading a thick, small print, college-looking book called "The Rules Of Writing" or something to that effect.  Also in his pile of reading materials were books on architecture and biology.  He explained that he was taking courses at Junior College.  

In the course of conversation I shared that I taught 8th grade English.  

"So you teach writing?" he asked.

"Yes," I said.  

"That's sort of my weak point," he said, and pointed toward the book on the Rules of Writing. 

 I told him, "The more you write, the better you become at it."  He nodded. 

Then his father said, "So, 8th grade...that's about the class he'd be in if he had gone through normal schools."  I was confused.  "Yup," he said. "He's forteen."  

Wow!  He seemed much more mature than most 14 year olds I know, and in one way that especially caught my attention--he was mature about his learning.  His father said G had always loved learning, because he'd learned through playing and experiencing the world, especially the outdoors, and through various types of apprenticeships.  A year ago, he expressed interest in taking classes, so he enrolled in a k-12 program at the Junior College.  He'd done well so far and seemed to be able to transfer his motivation to learn to the formal classroom context.  

G's path wouldn't work for everyone.  He benefits from the unique environment of his upbringing and values and care of his parents.  But its a reminder that the lock-step grade levels and benchmarks we become obsessive about in public schools are quite artificial.  

Another moment that spoke to this very same issue came when I met A, a friend's 7 year old son, who was going into third grade.  I noticed that he seemed to have strong verbal skills and a wide vocabulary.  He was able to hold a conversation with us adults at the dinner table for a while without getting completely bored.  

At some point, I asked A one of my favorite questions for kids: "Do you like to read?"  I was expecting him to tell me he just finished the entire Harry Potter series, based on how he spoke.

"I can't read," he said, matter-of-factly.  I paused in momentary shock, not sure how to respond. What was I going to say?  Then I remembered hearing earlier that he attended a Waldorf school, where I knew kids learned to read in 3rd grade.

"Oh, that's right, you go to Waldorf," I said, feeling silly. He seemed unphased.  

Then my friend asked him, "A, Do you like to listen to stories?" 

"I lovelistening to stories," he said, 

with the passion I often hear when kids speak about video games.  

"We're on the third Lord of the Rings book now. I love Lord of the Rings," A said.  

I thought about what this meant.  A's mother had been reading to him since he was little.  He now had the patience and story background to sit through thousands of pages of dense prose and to fully enter the world of the books.  He got true enjoyment out of this.

I thought how strange it must be for him not to be able to read yet, not even signs or menus.  And yet, how exciting will this year be for him, when he finally gets to unlock the world of reading for himself. And how different it will be to do this when his vocabulary is already impressive, his knowledge of the world is as wide as it is.  I have a feeling his motivation to read on his own will be very strong.  

The Waldorf way might not be best for everyone. It relies on strong parental buy-in and involvement, from which not every child benefits.  But meeting A was another reminder that there are so many different ways to learn.  If a student cannot read by third grade in the public schools, he's almost definitely going to be labeled learning disabled.  The Waldorf schools turn that practice on his head.  

Why are our schools so obsessed with rushing children through their education?  Why are public schools so averse to giving kids time to play?  To teaching through play?  It seems to me that we picked up these habits of mind, because we are charged with educating large groups of children as efficiently as we can.  In other words, the factory model.  I don't think it's coincedental that in this model students as young as third grade suffer from lack of motivation... and that when given time and space to learn in his own way, G is actually far ahead of most 14 year olds...or that A loves listening to Lord of the Rings while most 2nd graders, who can breeze through I-Can-Read books, would not have the patience.  

I believe that in the future we will move beyond the factory model of schooling.  But as for the present, one thing's for sure: the end of the year testing that has become obligatory starting in early elementary school and going through high school (and losing half the country's youth along the way), is taking children farther and farther away from authentic learning experiences and the joy that comes from them. 

[image credit: www.elvincountry.com/ tags/volunteer-vacations]

New York City public education officials have been duking it out over whether the mayor should continue to run NYC public schools, or the "old" Board of Education should regain control.  Mayor Bloomberg and Chancellor Klein have indeed "shaken up" the public schools in a few key ways which have both positive and negative ramifications for our students.  However, as I see it, no matter who's running NYC Public Schools, the problems will be similar, until teachers and parents play more meaningful roles in decisions affecting their schools and districts.  

I entered NYC public schools just as Bloomberg and Klein began controlling them.  Schools experienced some upheaval as they adjusted to the new system and it's frequent changes in direction.  Remnants of the old system were still in effect, and I heard a lot from veteran teachers about what it was like, both good and bad. Finally, during the past year, Bloomberg and Klein's vision of what they want to do with public schools seemed to get clearer for those of us intimately involved (principals, teachers, parents, and students).  This allows us to offer a clear critique of both systems.

The old Board of Education oversaw schools in a paternalistic way.  The institution seemed to want to take responsibility for the education of children by making decisions about what should be taught and how it should be done.  Curriculum was often prescribed.  Professional development was usually provided by the district.  Principals had to follow district directives when it came to managing their school's budgets.  Everyone, including the principal, had to answer to the district.  A directive might be, "Bulletin boards must be updated monthly with student work and the work must be free of all mechanical errors" or "In the 3rd quarter, all 8th grade students will read Of Mice and Men and write a literary essay in response."  Principals were often pushed into the role of enforcing Board of Education mandates, or resisting them, as the case sometimes was.  Most of the time, there was nothing gravely wrong with any of the mandates--except that they were decided upon out of context.  Their calls uniformity were often out of synch with the actual needs of teachers and students, and thus, less than productive.  
Higher-functioning schools, as measured by test scores (but which tended to correlate strongly with the socioeconomic status of students) were allowed greater autonomy over how education was provided at their sites. Lower-performing schools were often expected to adhere more rigidly to mandates. The state had a lengthy process by which schools that failed to perform well on state tests after a number of years could be taken over by the state.  The state could elect to replace the principal and most of the staff if it wanted.  The state would then fund smaller class sizes, more support staff, technology in classrooms, and a pay increase for all staff members until the school's scores increased.
Bloomberg and Klein's system now appears to be a hands-off "results-oriented" productivity model, transplanted from the business world.  No longer do districts tell teachers what materials to use, what they should be teaching each day or month, nor do they decide how principals should offer professional development for their staff.  Principals have a lot more freedom over budget, curriculum, and hiring. This has been positive in some schools, because progressive principals finally have some freedom to create structures that serve their students, such as teacher leadership roles and team teaching situations; teachers can build curriculum based on the specific needs the students.  Bloomberg and Klein have even supported an initiative to get teachers involved in action research at their own schools to figure out how to better meet the needs of struggling students. (CFI Inquiry team)
So why am I not a huge fan of Bloomberg & Klein running NYC public schools?
On the one hand, Bloomberg and Klein don't seem to have much to say about what goes on in their city's classrooms, what kinds of experiences students have in city schools, or what knowledge and ideas teachers may have beyond their own classrooms.  The attitude seems to be, "As long as students are making progress, we'll stay out of it."  Kind of like the business owner who says, "As long as business is good, I'm not concerned with what goes on at the ground level."  Not necessarily a bad stance for a politicians with no experience as educators.
But, like George W. Bush and many other non-educators have done, Bloomberg and Klein have made one decision that has colored NYC public and charter schools more than any mandate that came down the line from the old Board of Education--the decision to control how progress is measured in public schools, and to hold that measure above all others.  
Seemingly without question, they have predicated all action and all notions of accountability concerning our schools on the assumption that a child's learning can be summed up in a single, standardized test, given each year in reading and math.  
As a teacher I can say, with more certainty than I can say most things, that the standardized tests fail to accurately and reliably measure a students' learning over the course of a year, and most people involved in education will admit this.  
Furthermore, the system under Bloomberg and Klein penalizes schools, principals, and teachers for failing to raise test scores each year, more than the old Board of Education ever did. The result is that teachers and principals are making decisions on everything from curriculum to scheduling to professional development to pedagogy to budget with the sole goal of increasing students' ability to perform on standardized tests.  
As I have written about before, in my own practice, the pressure to teach to the test has amounted to an assault on the intellectual process I believe is truly important for young learners and their future lives, as well as the future of this country. 
Adding a sinister twist, testing itself is a business, and so, in many respects, is politics.  Too many people's careers are resting on the use of these test scores as evidence of progress in public schools. The people who really care about the education of our kids--teachers and parents--are shamefully left out of the game.  Frankly, I just don't trust a system that hangs on a standardized test.  I'd even venture to call it un-American.
Bloomberg and Klein, I think you're pretty smart guys and that you'd like to see a great public school system in NYC.  But you're trying to take a shortcut by building a house of cards where testing = learning.  You need to let go of that folly, role your sleeves up, and get down with some expert  teachers, parents, brain researchers, child development experts, principals, guidance counselors, community leaders, and technology specialists.  Together, you need to decide what we all really want for our city's kids, and what our city needs of its future adult population.  Then make it happen.  Don't say there's no money for it (nobody says there's no money for testing, now, do they...) because I can already think of a bunch of ways to do it.  
And, by the way, if you decide you're not up for the task of really educating children, no hard feelings. Just do the right thing and step out of the way for someone who is.  

[image credits:  house of cards-- uzar.wordpress.comquiet testing sign-- ctemploymentlawblog.compuzzle image--  ecologyofeducation.net ]

I wrote about this once before in the NY Daily News, but it's time for a second take. We need performance pay for teachers. Not to scare away the "bad ones."  To keep the good ones.

It's March and almost time for teachers to begin making plans for next year.  I know of many gifted, committed teachers in their 3rd, 4th, or 5th years who are getting ready to say goodbye to the classroom. It is truly painful, because our students need them, and instead will have to make due with a new crop of brand new, shellshocked first years.  
A friend of mine who is currently a dean at a middle school, after six years of teaching, mentioned that he's probably going to pursue an administration degree. Not because he deeply desires to be a principal, but because he's "thirty-something years old and can't keep making 60,000 a year."  (I know in the USA $60,000 ain't bad for a teacher, but remember we're talking about NYC, land of ridiculously expensive everything.)  When I heard this, I felt a familiar disappointment.  I've heard it before and may be on my way to becoming jaded and complacent about all the leavers.  Not that he wouldn't be good at administrating, but teaching and administrating are two different things, with different skills sets and different kinds of impact on students.  Truthfully, I have no idea whether he'd be good at it, and am relatively uninterested.
But then he caught my attention.  "But if there was merit pay," he said, "I'd be back in a flash." "Really?" I said, with a surprised smile. "Absolutely. Because if there's one thing I can do well, it's teach. I'd teach my whole life if I could." 
Wow, I thought. There it is. This is the kind of teacher our children, especially in high poverty schools, desperately need.  I'm fairly certain that for many of my students, the kind of education they receive in middle school can mean life or death later on.  Not that any kid is doomed after middle school, but middle school teachers create a context for the very beginning of our students' transition into adulthood. Adults have to deal with "the system" that governs much of their lives, and they must make choices for themselves and take responsibility within the system. For middle school students, school is that system and teachers are their guides. It's tremendously complicated work and matters more than many of us care to think about sometimes.  
My students cannot afford to lose the people closest to them at their schools--their strong teachers, the ones who prepare lessons and teach, and assess, and see that they learn, and STILL have energy leftover to get to know them, and partner with their parents, and actually change their schools to meet all of their students' needs better.  
No, my students can't afford to lose these teachers, simply because the system won't pay for them to be teachers anymore.  And no, the job I've just described is not something a first year teacher can do well, even the most gifted first year teacher working her heart out.  (I was a pretty good first year teacher, I might add.  But at year five, I'm still learning to do all of the parts of my job effectively.)
I was happy to hear Obama talk about paying teachers for their expertise, and that he's promised to work with teachers on the merit pay plan.  But I doubt I'll be letting out a sigh of relief any time soon.  The details of the policy will matter a lot in whether or not we keep the experienced teachers our students need, but are slated to lose each year, like clockwork. Already, I'm hearing more talk about recruitment than retention, investing in charter school "pockets of excellence," rather than confidently transforming the system our government is responsible for running... I hope President Obama and Secretary Duncan start talking to teachers, and soon.  

[image credit: jenkintownparents.org/ revolvingdoor.jpg]