Lately when it comes to education, the country has been focused on the goal of measuring good teaching--and I think most people would agree that it's not an easy thing to do.  Some (such as Nancy Flanagan of Teacher in a Strange Land) have noted that teachers have been mostly left out of the process, though we are known to play the single most important role in a child's education.  There is another group of key players that has had even less voice in how we measure good teaching: the students.

My virtual colleague from the Teacher Leaders Network and blogger at the DailyKos, Kenneth Bernstein, brought this AOL News article by Kelly Middleton to my attention.  There, students were surveyed about what makes a great teacher.  Their responses (copied below directly from the article) are quite interesting:

• Know us personally, our interests and strengths
• Let us know who they are as individuals
• Smile at us
• Encourage us to participate in school activities
• Spend time beyond class time to help us be successful in their class
• Give us descriptive feedback on assignments
• Tell us why
• Share how what we learn is connected to real life
• Apologize when they make mistakes
• Give meaningful work
• Are energetic, enthusiastic and enjoy their job

As I prepare for a new school year, this list is a welcome reminder to me of what matters most to many students.  As Ken pointed out, students did not cite raising their test scores as a major factor in a teacher's quality.  That in itself is no surprise to me, nor does it necessarily discount the value of test scores in measuring student learning... however, if we only look at test scores, it seems we are discounting the students' experience.  

Much of what the students listed would go under the category of building positive student-teacher relationships.  However, it seems there is little movement to encourage teachers to build better relationships with our students.  On a very qualitative level--though I wonder if we could get some numerical, survey-based data on this--I feel that the focus on data and test preparation has created a new kind of distance between today's teachers and students.  

Educators in New York regularly refer to specific students as numbers: "She's a 1; he's a high 2..." etc.   And as I spend more time looking at student work for data on what percentage of the class has mastered standard X and deciding how to respond, I have less time to give meaningful qualitative feedback on student work, which is something students reported to be valuable in the above list.  

The nature of high stakes testing and all of its consequences makes working in a high need school (and maybe other types of schools, though I'm not sure) much more stressful than it was when I started teaching 6 years ago.  Are we smiling less?  That might be worth studying as well.  

Extra-curriculuar activities are being cut in city schools and nationwide in place of more math and ELA instruction, so there are fewer activities to encourage students to participate in.   Teachers are often discouraged from spending time on meaningful work that might not apply directly to standards measured on state tests. Remember, tests only measure what can efficiently be standardized.  That leaves out a a great many areas of meaningful academic work (writing fiction and writing poetry, in my discipline, for example).  

Students value a teacher who tells them why.  My guess is that the answer, "Because it's on the test," has become much more common and will continue to do so as long as test scores are the go-to measure for teaching and learning.  This is not to say that tests do not provide valuable data for us about student learning.  I just think that, for lack of a better way to measure good teaching, the country is going too far in the use of test scores.  

As I look at what the students say makes a great teacher, I worry we may be we may be discouraging the development of such warm and thoughtful teachers.  It seems like so much energy is going to distract us from these things: smiling, words of encouragement...there is no guidance in that direction from those policies which seek to guide us teachers.  

We also must not forget that we have a staggering national high school dropout rate (close to 50%).  My friend who teaches in Oakland at a second chance school, for high school students who've already dropped out and want to come back, did some research on her students' experiences that led to their dropping out.  Overwhelmingly they had felt all alone in their education, lacking a strong relationship with any adult at school.  Ability and time to form relationships with students needs to be given some formal value.  If we constantly measure learning outside of any real context, we are really going astray of what our students need, which is real connection--both to academic content and to their teachers.   

[image credit: http://www.daisakuikeda.org/main/educator/edu/edu-04.html  This website is very interesting, about a model of education called Soka, which is based on positive relationship between teacher and student.]

 What's a High Needs School?

Since I entered teaching, I've worked in what are classified as urban, "high needs" schools.  Lately I've been asking myself, what exactly does that mean?  

The high need schools in which I've built my teaching practice serve student populations that receive universal free lunch from the government.  This means that 100% of their families live (or at least report income) at the poverty line.  I researched the federal guidelines for this designation, and found that for a single parent and one child, it is $14,570 per year.  And for a household of 5 this means $25,790 annually.  

In New York City, those figures make for staggeringly difficult conditions for raising a family.  These numbers reflect "the struggle," a concept that never really goes away.  This is where students grow up exposed to or experiencing the various symptoms of poverty--poor or unstable housing, violence, crime, poor health and nutrition, depression--all of which are competing factors in a child's ability to focus in school. I do believe strongly that any child can succeed academically given the right opportunity, but the stress level alone associated with many of these issues makes it much more difficult.  

What confuses me at the moment is why there are so many schools that serve 100% children of the poor.  It would be one thing if most of the city was poor, but that is not the case.  It would be one thing if some districts were poor and others wealthy, but that is not the case either.  Districts tend to be spread across several neighborhoods of varying economic levels.  So why is it that one handful of schools is charged with educating children who struggle getting their basic needs met, and other schools serve mostly middle class children who mostly come to school well-provided for? Why do so many poor students in New York City find themselves in classes made up of exclusively other students facing similar economic situations? What message does that send? 

In today's education scene, key players seem comfortable looking in the windows of high needs schools and questioning or making suggestions as to how they are funded, staffed, supported, and held accountable (all of which are valid points of discussion).  But what about the frame itself for this picture?  Aren't we looking at the old ill of segregation and failing to confront it?  

In New York City, students have to apply to schools, starting in elementary, and most schools screen their students.  "Better" schools have good reputations, get "better" applicant pools, and can choose from the most prepared students (using academic, discipline and attendance records).  Schools with poorer reputations end up with students that the better schools didn't choose.  It is not a coincidence that those students tend live at the poverty line and receive free lunch.  

Great work happens inside high need schools.  Committed teachers, students and school leaders regularly transcend the expectations society has of them, putting the dream of educational opportunity for all into action.  At the same time, in many such schools, we are overwhelmed by the level of need, both academically, socially and psychologically.  There are many children who get "left behind"--not by hard-working teachers, guidance counselors and administrators doing their best every day--but by a system that is still separate and unequal.  And no matter how much we test students and hold teachers and principals accountable for the results, we're missing something if we don't also deal with the segregation in our schools that perpetuates and even intensifies long-standing inequalities inside our nation.   

[image credit (border added): 

bluesoul.wordpress.com/ 2008/11/27/urban-vector/]

 In my previous post, What Needs to Change, I question why it is so difficult to find classrooms where students are learning from authentic experiences, when research shows that humans learn best through experience. TLN member, Nancy Flanagan of Teacher In a Strange Land, left a comment pointing me towards a recent NY Times article, Playing To Learn, by Susan Engel. In it, Engel describes the constructivist classrooms and curriculum she believes our children need and calls upon the Obama administration to advocate for "a curriculum designed to raise children, rather than test scores."

Nancy wrote:

"There's been considerable discussion lately over Susan Engel's piece in the NY Times over constructivist learning, with some people claiming that students don't really learn much by free interaction with materials and texts, developing and testing their own ideas. There is often a sense that kids with privileged backgrounds, whose parents have inculcated considerable content knowledge, might benefit from applying that knowledge to real-life tasks. But kids from less advantaged homes should really be given traditional, direct-instruction lessons around core content.

Since you're in an excellent position to judge, I'm wondering what you think about that..."

I thought I'd post my response:

Nancy, thank you for the great question. I agree wholeheartedly with Engel's argument. To those who believe that poor kids need direct instruction on the basics before doing anything else, I would say that that is exactly the model has been the status quo for decades and it's not working, especially or poor kids. There are many, many disengaged children and adolescents in public schools, which I think accounts for our nearly 50% percent national high school dropout rate. Something has to change. Also, Engel clearly states that kids need time to master computational skills. There's nothing that says you can't learn basic skills in a constructivist classroom. But I have students who have been taught certain basic skills over and over again every year and still don't know them by 8th grade. Why? Most likely because they had no meaning or context. They were memorized and tested and then mentally filed under, "I don't care anymore."

That said, there are two thing about constructivist teaching that critics must understand:

1. It is not as simple as it may sound. Experiential learning is not giving students a classroom full of materials and telling them to go learn. On the contrary, it takes a highly skilled teacher to structure and lead this type of learning successfully. That means significant, quality training upfront, on the job, and ongoing professional development for teachers (hmm... sounds expensive, but not if we shift funds from testing, data, and text books over to teacher training and support). It is also essential that the educators who train teachers in this model have significant and relevant teaching experience themselves.

 2. The learning in a constructivist classroom is deeper and more lasting than the learning of facts and formulas through direct instruction, but it takes more time. As Engel suggests, we cannot have arbitrary due dates for a list of skills or standards each year. We need to think more long term and give kids the time it takes to learn meaningfully.  

If we are given more time to work with students to achieve meaningful, developmentally appropriate skill and content goals, I have no doubt that experiential learning will yield, (sigh), yes, higher test scores. As I wrote about here, my highest test scores in 6 years of teaching were the scores received by groups of students after two years with me, as seventh and then eight graders. I didn't do anything differently with those groups, I just did it for longer. Their motivation to learn and the connections they were able to make across the two years of meaningful, student-centered curriculum were incredible. But these results don't happen to the same degree in one year's time. (I usually spent the better part of the first year helping kids to understand how to ask questions and learn from experience and discover how powerful the process is. By the second year kids were ready to dive in right away.)

 3. Public schools that serve disadvantaged children must compete fiercely with the profound factors that deter their students from academic achievement. To list a few, unstable living conditions, lack of parental attention, lack of nutrition, and post-traumatic stress syndrome all make it far more difficult for your average student living in poverty to pay attention, put forth effort all day long, and contribute positively to the group life at school. Therefore, schools that serve poor children must have MORE compelling, NOT less compelling curricula than their middle class counterparts. The physical environment of the school must be more aesthetically appealing and comfortable rather than less so. They must help students develop social and emotional skills as well as academic ones in order for their students to truly embrace goals beyond basic survival. The scheduling of the day must be more supportive to the health and development of the child--including recess and the arts--rather than less so, where we cram hours of just reading and math into students and then lengthen the day for extra test prep. Most schools like this are just not competitive in the minds of the children we are trying to reach.  Other forces will win out over education, unless schools do a better job of competing for student attention and trust.

[image credits:

boy with telescope: weblo.com

Jackon Pollock painting: peculiarvelocity.files.wordpress.com

a child's attention: skelliewag.org

more time: explodingdog.com]

I've been finding the general scene in education quite overwhelming lately. In short, I believe we're moving in the wrong direction and have been for quite some time, and that this movement is coming from the very top of the hierarchical structure that attempts to control public education in the United States and trickles on down to the state and local governance, and to the districts, schools, and classrooms.  I tend to keep a positive outlook on most things, so this is a difficult reality to come to terms with.  Once I admit that, what's next?  

In my 8th grade English class we've been analyzing and writing about the themes of oppression and resistance in literature.  As a review, I gave students a quick exercise: write down a few examples of oppression in the world and a few examples of resistance.  In my morning class, a student asked me, with a look of confusion and even fear on his face, "Hey, Ms. Sacks, wouldn't school be an example of oppression?" 

"An interesting question," I said. "What makes you say that?"  

"Well, in school we're forced to do a lot of things and can't do other things."  

"You have a point," I said.  Later, when students shared, "education" was given by a few students as an example of resistance.  

In another class later that day I heard a table of students having a discussion about whether school was an example of oppression or resistance.

I decided to change my plans for the next day and give an in class writing assignment.  The question was, "Is the institution of school in the 21st century oppressive, or is it a key to resisting oppression, or is it both?"

I thought I might be shooting myself in the foot.  Thirteen year olds are adept at righteously criticizing anything and anyone that stands in the way of their independence.  I braced myself for a barrage of criticisms about how unfair the school rules are, thinking that this would still be a worthwhile question for students to explore.  

I got a little of what I expected: 

"School is oppressive because students have to wear uniforms."  

"School is oppressive because they force us to do work when we don't want to."

There were many positive views on education as well--more than I expected:

"School is the key to resisting oppression because there are people who can help you with your problems."

"School keeps you off the streets."

"The teachers fill our minds with positive thoughts."

"School helps you resist mental oppression by learning new things."

"Education helps you have a good career and life."

What took me by surprise, however, was that the students who believed that school was oppressive mostly wrote, passionately, about how students oppressed other students:

"School is oppressive because of the bullies who bother you every day."

"School is oppressive because of the students who call you racist things for your color or your culture."

"School is oppressive because of all the girl drama."

"School is oppressive because of the fights and violence."

"School is oppressive because of how kids treat each other and act out, so others can't learn."  

Though most students recognized that school was both oppressive and one of the keys to resisting oppression in their lives, the majority seemed to feel that other students were their biggest burden in school.  

This was a potent reminder that while teachers and administrators spend PD meetings analyzing data and our most recent assessments using the latest methods, students live much of their lives in our buildings with precious little attention paid at the systemic level to how they are treating each other. 

On the one hand, this has been somewhat the norm for middle school.  I remember my own middle school experience in the late 80's, where a distinct hierarchy of students existed.  Kids at all levels of the hierarchy experienced social anxiety. I also remember certain teachers upholding the hierarchy in subtle ways. I thought the middle school movement and progressive education in general made some progress in addressing the social emotional needs of early adolescents, especially throughout the 1990's.

My students' response to my question could be seen as an example of internalized oppression. Our education system neglects the social emotional development of kids in a wide variety of ways, often in the name of accountability--from making higher test scores the top instructional priority with a "by any means necessary" mandate, to increasing class sizes and cutting art, music, and recess out of the school day.  One of the unintended results is the breakdown of healthy school communities, leaving many kids angry, fearful, isolated, disempowered.  One way kids can attempt to feel powerful in such an environment is by putting other students down.  

In my next post, I'll share one way we've resisted this oppression in my classroom.  

Meanwhile, is it out of the realm of possibility for policy makers to recognize the tremendous value of educating our nation's youth to be socially and emotionally healthy human beings? 

[Image credit: rps.psu.edu] 

 Strange happenings... There are ATR's in the teacher's lounge of my school. Let me explain.

As you probably know, starting this summer the Mayor put a freeze on hiring of any non-DOE teachers. So teachers who just moved to the city, as well as newbies out of any teacher prep program, including NYC Teaching Fellows and TFA, have all been left with no job prospects in the public schools.  This is because of the ATR's, who are teachers who have been excessed--NOT fired--from their positions.  

Excessing happens when funding for a position closes up or a school closes down.  Now, it is pretty difficult to fire a tenured teacher.  It requires lots of documentation from the principal, multiple chances for the teacher to redeem him or herself, and there is strong legal representation for all teachers provided by the union, so even in the clearest of cases, it can take a few years. Many principals take the easy way out and simply dry up the position, thereby excessing the unwanted teacher.  Often this is nothing more than a bad match between teacher and principal/school, and such teachers secure positions at other schools quickly.  In other cases, the excessed teacher doesn't find a position at another school, but continues to receive his or her salary from the DOE as per the contract--if you're not fired, then you still have a job, even if that job is actually no job at all.

My school had a number of vacancies at the end of last year.  We were able to hire a bunch of experienced NYC teachers who were fleeing their schools for the greener pastures promised by my school (I hope we're delivering!)  But a few positions remained open.  My principal interviewed 37 ATR's. That's right, 37.  She said they were the most depressing interviews she has ever done, and that she "could not, in good conscience, hire any of them."  

Why were the interviews so bad?  Are these teachers really the dregs of the profession?  Or is it that they've become all too comfortable being ATR's with no teaching position and do not want to go back to the classroom?      

Two weeks into the school year, we still did not have a math teacher for my grade.  A string of subs covered the math class, while we attempted to wait the hiring freeze out.  

A few weeks later, the city decided to place all ATR's in vacancies throughout the city.  We received three from a high school that was shut down.  These three teachers, all middle aged, have 10-15 years of experience and get paid much more than I do.  However, they do not want to be at my school, and they know they are not wanted either.  In the classroom, they behave like incompetent substitutes. No order, no real planning, no real teaching.  Some have been rude to students on occasion.  Students get rude right back to them (and you know how middle schoolers can be when they feel disrespected).  It's not good. 

Finally, we found a solution.  The hiring freeze has been lifted in the area of special education.  One of our special education teachers is certified to teach any middle school subject.  She agreed to take over the math position, although she's never been a head teacher before.  We are now in the process of hiring a new special education teacher.  

Meanwhile, we still have the three ATR's...in our classrooms covering whenever someone's absent, and on our payroll as the most senior people in the building.  

In the teacher's lounge they are like refugees.  It's weird.  I feel bad for them.  They seem like they have come from a school that was, like many large urban public schools, more of a war zone than a learning environment.  They seem almost traumatized, and ready to attack at any moment.  

One of the ATR's is covering for a special education teachers who is on maternity leave.  If no teacher is absent, I can count on her to be in my room while I have my CTT class. (When she's not there, I'm on my own...another story for another post.)  She's actually a nice woman who is trying to do a decent job.  She observed in my classroom, while students busily did their work, then came to the meeting area to respond to a poem.  She visibly relaxed and her facial expression changed when she saw my students' real capabilities.  Now she greets me in the morning and tells me whether she'll be in my class or not that day.  She asks me about the curriculum, and is trying to work more with the students.  It's nice to see the shift, but honestly, I feel like I'm training her, while she gets paid twice my salary. 

Another ATR as been assigned to teach an 8th grade advisory, since our (now) math teacher cannot, because she's still in charge of all middle school IEP's and needs time in her schedule for it, and I cannot because I am team leader and department chair and need time in my schedule for that.  However, this ATR just hands out whatever materials we give him, and sits in the room and reads a book.  

So who's responsible for this situation?  I do not fault the mayor.  It's a smart business move to stop paying for teachers who have no positions, especially in a recession.  However, given the turnover rates in high poverty schools, you know which schools had to take the ATR's instead of the usual TFA'ers (who can be just as inept, but are usually far more committed and faster learners). 

But who is responsible for these ATR's apparent low ability to teach?  Look at the environment they must be coming from.  Is it their fault they were teaching under horrible conditions and probably received no support?  And, although, I believe principals need a real reason to fire a teacher, perhaps the union is at fault when the process for firing inept teachers takes years.  Kids lose out during those years.  And which principal gave these teachers tenure so many years ago?  Were they different teachers back then?  

I feel like I'm in the twilight zone.  Should I just "suck it up" and teach this woman what I know?  Like  said, she's actually a nice person who seems eager to learn.  Should I train this man to run an advisory?  My kids deserve that...

[Image Credit: sodahead.com]