Current Affairs

Teaching is a team sport. Although individual educators may teach individual classes, the relationships and collaboration among adults in a school will heavily affect the experiences of everybody’s students. Ignoring this need for facilitating cooperation comes at a steep cost.

 

The just-released first section of the “MetLife Survey of the American Teacher” provides striking data to illustrate the urgency of building substantial time for collaboration into all teachers’ schedules. The average time allotted per week for collaborative activities is only 2.7 hours. In schools that make the effort to do more than that, the rewards are tremendous. Here are a few eye-catching survey stats examining differences between teachers who work in higher- vesus lower-collaboration schools:

Beginning teachers have the opportunity to work with more experienced teachers.

Higher collaboration teachers: 95%

Lower collaboration teachers: 59%

 

My principal’s decisions on school improvement strategies are influenced by faculty input.

Higher collaboration teachers: 92%

Lower collaboration teachers: 48%

 

At my school, I strongly agree that the teachers, principals and other school professionals trust each other.

Higher collaboration teachers: 69%

Lower collaboration teachers: 42%

 

Satisfaction with teaching as a career

Higher collaboration teachers: 68%

Lower collaboration teachers: 54%

 

I am very confident that I have the knowledge and skills necessary to enable all of my students to succeed academically.

Higher collaboration teachers: 89%

Lower collaboration teachers: 81%

 

All or most of my students who have a sense of responsibility for their own education.

Higher collaboration teachers: 56%

Lower collaboration teachers: 35%

Wow. And the last two are really the kickers.

 

It’s incontrovertible: students benefit when their teachers are participants in a supportive, active learning community. MetLife also reports, “Sixty-seven percent of teachers and 78% of principals think that greater collaboration among teachers and school leaders would have a major impact on student achievement.”

 

It’s no secret that this works. Infuriatingly, 69% of teachers “do not believe that their voices have been adequately heard in the current debate on education.”

 

The cue to wring hands is… now. Or we as individual educators and citizens can work alongside MetLife to raise the profile of this urgent need. We must be heard!

Finland
has an education system with its priorities in the right places and the results
to match. It’s time for our leadership to take a look over there and say, “Yes!
I’ll have what they’re having.”

Linda Darling-Hammond’s indispensable new book The
Flat World and Education
profiles three
countries-Finland, Korea, and Singapore— that had struggling education systems in the 1970s
but have aggressively revamped them into superior national systems. I plan to blog more on
Darling-Hammond’s opus, but for now, I want to focus on Finland.

 

Finland has much to teach us, if only we pay
attention. They didn’t arrive at an equitable, world-class system through our
current measures of privatization or accountability via high-stakes testing.
The Education
System of Finland’s website
spells out its mission in a way that starkly
differs from ours. (In fact, I couldn’t find any corresponding mission
statement on the U.S. Department of Education site
only endless links and a blog.)

Here are a few highlights from Finland:

Competent teachers On all school levels, teachers are highly
qualified and committed. Master’s degree is a requirement, and teacher
education includes teaching practice. Teaching profession is very popular in
Finland, and hence universities can select the most motivated and talented
applicants. Teachers work independently and enjoy full autonomy in the
classroom. 

This is the ace. What isn’t even mentioned is that
all teacher training and degrees are fully paid for by the government, making
teaching a competitive and attractive profession. Endless research points to
quality teachers in every classroom as the most crucial helper for students;
Finland actually invests in making that happen. In the U.S.’s fragmented
system, so many teachers enter the classroom with minimal training, heavy
student load debt, and a sink-or-swim attitude from their school leaders.
Naturally, many would-be competent teachers decide not to even bother. Finland
doesn’t have a teacher turnover crisis; quite the contrary, they have a
well-trained, highly talented corps of teachers. This is excellence— although I
can already anticipate loud, insipid criticism from the American right about
government-supported teacher training as a recipe for socialist indoctrination.
We need to get over ourselves and realize that investing in teacher training is
not optional for developing a sustainable, robust school system. We don’t have
that now and it’s killing us.

Encouraging assessment and evaluation The student assessment and evaluation of
education and learning outcomes are encouraging and supportive by nature. The
aim is to produce information that supports both schools and students to
develop. National testing, school ranking lists and inspection systems do not
exist.

The last line is clearly a knock at the U.S.’s
ideological march toward high-stakes testing as the sole relevant indicator of
student and school achievement. We need to shake off the addiction to
corporate-assembled tests for our students, and pay attention to implementing
rigorous assessments that support, not deaden, kids’ interest in education.

Significance of education in society Finnish society strongly favours education and
the population is highly educated by international standards. Education is
appreciated and there is a broad political consensus on education policy. 

Darling-Hammond mentions an American tradition of
under-investing in preparation. President Obama has committed unprecedented
billions to education in his Race to the Top program, but the money is tied to
the reforms du jour of tying teacher
evaluations to test scores and green-lighting more charter schools. In effect,
we’ll get more testing (and practice testing) and more privatization. So much
high-stakes testing sucks the soul out of education and charter schools are interesting
innovations at the fringes of the system. We cannot privatize our way to a
world-class education system that serves all American students. We need a
dramatic, bipartisan re-commitment to education. Finland did this, and we can
see where it got them— number-one status.


 

My long-distance love affair with Finland continues: it is
ranked by Forbes as the second-happiest
country
in the world. (Side note: it has a single-payer public health care
system and 88% of
its citizens are satisfied
with it. The EU national average for health care
satisfaction is 41%.)

Perhaps the U.S./Finland contrast is best elucidated by
Finnish policy analyst Pasi Sahlberg, who is cited in depth by Darling-Hammond:

The [No Child Left Behind] legislation… has led to
fragmentation in instruction, further interventions uncoordinated with the
basic classroom teaching, and more poorly-trained tutors working with students
and teachers. As a consequence, schools have experienced too many instructional
directions for any student, with an increase in unethical behaviors and a loss
of continuity in instruction and systematic school improvement. The difference
between this and the Finnish approach is notable: The Finns have worked
systematically over 35 years to make sure that competent professionals who can
craft the best learning conditions for all students are in all schools, rather
than thinking that standardized instruction and related testing can be brought
in at the last minute to improve student learning and turn around failing
schools.

Much of Darling-Hammond’s examination of Finland can be found
here
in a 2009 article for Voices in Urban Education, but I recommend getting the book. We’d be fools to ignore what
really works on a national level.

Roland
Barth
incisively observed, “[T]he relationships among the educators in a
school define all relationships within that school's culture.
Teachers and
administrators demonstrate all too well a capacity to either enrich or diminish
one another's lives and thereby enrich or diminish their schools.”

Amen.
But for schools with room to improve (i.e. every single one), what does a
culture shift toward better relationships look like? Tinkering
or wholesale reform? Human knots? Happy hours? Clique-busting in the lounge? Collaborative
planning periods? All of the above and more?

This weekend I
tore through a compelling new book, The
Checklist Manifesto
by
Atul Gawande, which gave me another idea. Gawande is a Harvard-based surgeon,
writer of two previous award-winning bestsellers, MacArthur Genius Grant
Recipient, leader of the World Health Organization Save Surgery Saves Lives
program, and all-around world-beater. The subtitle of the book “How to Get
Things Right” caught my attention. If Dr. Gawande wanted to tell a teacher
perpetually seeking to get things right how to do it, I was in.


 

Of course, the
book claims up front that checklists are useful. But why? What makes a good
checklist? Can teachers use this? (I think so.)

Gawande offers a
handful of well-chosen case studies in operating rooms, construction sites,
airplane cockpits, venture capitalist brains, and high-end restaurant kitchens
illustrating the consistency and collaboration that using a checklist can
provide. When an operating team huddles before a surgery to run through a safe
surgery checklist, the risk of complications decreased sharply. For starters,
each team member introduces himself by name (a nonstandard practice in a great
many operating rooms), a practice that removes much of the reticence of many
nurses to call out doctors when they observe mistakes in progress. Running
through the standard procedure for running lines into a patient drops the line
infection rate from occasional to zero. 
The nurses may have prepared lines many times, but in the heat of the
moment, important little things can be forgotten— unless there is a check in
place.

The Checklist
Manifesto
moves like a
Malcolm Gladwell book. (Bestseller-machine Gladwell even appears on the back
cover for an enthusiastic blurb.) It’s a good read. Gawande suggests
convincingly that it’s too much for a surgeon, or a builder, or a pilot (or, we
can extrapolate, a teacher) to hold in one’s mind every little thing that needs
taking care of in all contingencies. We forget things, we re-shuffle our
priorities, we respond to emergencies. Without a check— coming from a checklist
or a colleague— things can get unnecessarily fouled up. As we pursue excellence
in our craft, this cost-free (if initially annoying) option warrants
consideration.

Good checklists
are crafted on the ground and are constantly evolving. They should not take
more than a minute to run through. Five to nine essential items. Clear and
concise.

Perhaps most
importantly, checklists require collaborators to talk to each other. This is
where they can be of real use in schools, where too often each classroom
becomes its own island. A functioning classroom has so many moving parts that
the opportunities to use checklists with students and colleagues are vast.

I can see the adoption in schools of non-threatening, teamwork-oriented, locally-created checklists
leading to better relationships among educators and better outputs for
students. Roland Barth would like it. 

Read on your own,
and you are in a strong position. If you do not do this, you’re in deep
trouble. 

This is my constant
thought about my students. Recent data from my classroom and an eye-opening new
book, African
Americans and Standardized Tests: The Real Reason for Low Test Scores
, have borne it out. 

 
 

The data from my
classroom has been consistent. At my school, we administer math and English
“interim assessments” three times a year. The teachers create the exams, often
drawing upon practice SAT, AP exam, and state tests. Within 48 hours of the
testing, teachers have run the students’ scores through the in-house Scantron machine
and printed out data reports. Then the Friday of interim assessment week is set
aside as a student-free professional development “data day” in which the entire
cohort of teachers serving a grade-level scours each kid’s test and open-ended
responses. We discuss patterns, draw up action plans, and identify students of
concern. It’s a model of using data to drive instruction.

Every single one of
these data days is an occasion for hand-wringing. The lower-achieving students
rarely display meaningful progress. Their essays are often cringe-worthy. For
some 11th- and 12th-graders on the cusp of heading to college, their lack of
mastery of the English language can be downright scary.

I have a clutch of
students who read for pleasure, yet bizarrely hand in assignments only
sporadically. Let’s call them “Readers.” These are the kids who take home The
Kite Runner
and read the
whole thing in two days—then never write any of their journal responses. Their
grades do not reflect their abilities. However, these students always score at
or near the very top of the class on these standardized tests.

I have many more
students who hand in almost all of their assignments, yet they— according to
their own pronouncements— dislike reading and never do it except when forced.
They are the moaners and groaners when new books are distributed in class. They
are always at or near the bottom of the statistical heap. Let’s call them
“Worker Bees.”

The most recent
data day sent me into a tizzy of bafflement about how to boost my Worker Bees.
An hour of Amazon.com book browsing (my new addiction) led me to order Clark
Atlanta University professor Veda Jairrels’s scarily titled African
Americans and Standardized Tests: The Real Reason for Low Test Scores
. I devoured the 140 pages in one sitting.

Jairrels, a lawyer
and an education professor, gave me little hope for the upward mobility
(academically and professionally) for most of my non-reading Worker Bees. She
lowers the boom in her introduction:

I believe
African Americans score the lowest… because of a lack of long-term voluntary
reading. Voluntary reading is also referred to as reading for pleasure… This
emphasis on reading should begin at birth (i.e. parents reading to their
infants). The amount of reading that children do in connection with school
assignments is often not enough…

When I tell
African American parents about the importance of taking their children to the
library, they sometimes reply, “My child has plenty of books at home.” My
unspoken response is, “No, you don’t. You just think you do.”

Ugh. She goes on to
lay out extensive, sobering data reflecting African Amercans’ poor performance
relative to other groups on tests. For example, the mean score for African
American college-bound seniors whose parents earn more than $100,000 on the
2007 SAT Writing test was 469; The mean score for white students whose parents
earned less than $10,000 was higher, at 474. At the household income of
$100,000 or higher, the mean score for white students was 540. And so on.

Jairrels claims the
core reason for this disparity is an accumulated deficit of skills and
knowledge from not African American children not reading enough for pleasure.
Reading teaches you words; it shows other places and perspectives. It broadens
one’s world. She wants parents to be getting kids pumped about reading from
birth, and for schools to immerse students in reading opportunities from the
moment they first enroll.

After finishing a
recent unit using the novel The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian, James, one of my Worker Bee 11th-graders
told me, with a real sense of accomplishment, “Mr. Brown, this is the first
book that I ever really
read.”

I was proud of him.
James’s effort in class this semester has been strong. He still remains
woefully behind his Reader peers. If he somehow caught up, he’d be a
statistical anomaly.

Reading is everything. When kids don’t read at an early age, they fall
behind.  I believe that all
children can learn, but when, for many, valuable years of reading and learning
have been squandered, those students awaken in the upper grades at a tremendous
deficit. Veda Jairrels sees it, and I see it in my classroom every day. 

No meaningful
education reform can ignore this.

For
several years running, my middle school hosted the Solo and Ensemble Festival
for our southeastern Michigan region, always held on the first Saturday in
December. That meant that thousands of middle school musicians, plus their
parents, piano accompanists and indulgent grandmothers descended on my middle
school for a day of nervous renditions of "Little Fugue."

There
are more than 40 middle schools in the region, so that also meant hanging with a
volunteer workforce of a few dozen orchestra and band teachers, pulling 12-hour
shifts on a Saturday. Every year, at least one of them would express surprise
at the wreath hanging on the counselor's door, the (ugly, scrawny) Christmas
tree in the office--and the marching lineups and drum assignments for the
annual Fantasy of Lights parade
posted in the band room. 

"How
do you get away with that?" I was often asked. At many schools in nearby
Oakland County, the student population is much more ethnically and spiritually diverse.
Many of my counterparts were doing winter concerts where the musical literature
was tightly scrutinized for religious imbalance and stealth piety. Ironically,
many of them were selecting literature based on mildly schizophrenic policies
that allowed them to play masterworks--such as For Unto Us a Child is Born--on the theory that they were
"educational," but forbade secular tunes like Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas because--duh!--the word
"Christmas" was in the title.

Most
school policy on Christmas music--and performance of other traditional and
ethnic holiday compositions--falls somewhere between muddled and nonexistent; a
fair number of directives get added when someone complains at a school board
meeting. And a large segment of school personnel and the general population
profoundly misunderstand the elasticity, purpose and intent of the First
Amendment. It's not about boldly defying the separation of church and state
(although some people want to fight that specious battle endlessly). Charles
Haynes, First Amendment scholar, expresses this beautifully in a must-read
article
:

The First
Amendment solution is stunningly simple: Schools should plan holiday programs
that are educational in purpose and balanced in content. Nothing in the First
Amendment prohibits public schools from educating students about music,
religious and secular, as part of a comprehensive music program that exposes
students to a variety of traditions and cultures.

Haynes
also notes that one Merry Hyatt of California is now collecting signatures to
put a referendum on the November 2010 ballot requiring all public schools in California to include Christmas music
in classroom activities, every December. Haynes thinks that even if the
referendum passed (and I get a little queasy thinking about the mileage Bill O'
Reilly could get out of that one), it would be overturned on constitutional
grounds.

Really--does
this need to be a fight? We're a diverse country. Teaching children to
appreciate the range and beauty of cultural traditions is something we ought to
be endorsing in every public school, no matter which holidays a majority of
students celebrate. Most people who hail each other in this season, whether
they say "Happy Holidays" or "Merry Christmas"--or any
other greeting--are not proclaiming religious fervor. They're trying to be
friendly and social. Good cheer in dark times.

There
is not and never has never been a "War on Christmas." Everyone in
America gets Christmas, for weeks, whether they want it or not. The First
Amendment lets us sort this out, school by school, keeping educational integrity
uppermost. School leaders can serve as models of inclusive and respectful
citizenship--a more admirable goal than majority domination.

For
those who insist that all middle school bands play Christmas music, I propose a
mandatory winter holiday parade. A few years marching in sleet ought to make
any "War on Christmas" zealot think twice.

Are there any teachers who think state exam scores should be the dominating factor of teacher evaluations? Do they really believe that those high-stakes test provide a genuine reflection of a teacher’s value? Do they agree that teachers who work with students with low test scores should be put on probation and/or fired?

 

I’m really wondering about this. Teacher evaluation via student high-stakes test scores is on an unstoppable march, and it’s a non-negotiable for states if they want a piece of President Obama and Secretary Duncan’s Race to the Top billions. Last week, NYC Mayor Bloomberg took a big step in this direction, digging in his heels on the test-scores- or-your-job crusade.

 

I’m distressed. The obsessively stat-driven business model (specifically using state exam stats) doesn’t work in classrooms. Teachers know this. Using data to drive instruction is good, but that’s not the same as basing someone’s competence on students’ scores on one pressure-laden exam. State test scores just don’t give an accurate picture of student achievement, no matter how badly Bloomberg or Duncan want it to.

 

My students’ SAT scores don’t reflect the learning happening in my 12th grade English class. There the students are leading discussions on The Kite Runner, making connections within and beyond the text. They are speaking publicly and taking ownership over their learning. They’re realizing that the teacher is not the gatekeeper of knowledge and discoveries. They’re doing standards-based creative and expository writing inspired by the text. They are taking responsibility for completing assignments thoroughly and working on self-advocating when they need extra assistance. It’s not perfect, but I know there is forward progress. I can see it in their written work and in their in-class actions.

 

When I administered a practice SAT test as part of a school-wide “interim assessment” this week, the results were low. The timed testing environment was stressful, and many students worked slightly slower than the pacing clock permitted, leading kids to become frustrated and bomb the test.

 

I’ll focus with the students on working more quickly through timed tests, but really, I find that skill somewhere toward the bottom of the priority list of what high-needs students have to get out of 12th grade. In addition to the covering the standards, I’m looking to build confidence and responsible risk-taking, networking abilities, technological savvy, awareness of current events, and, most of all, intellectual curiosity. I don’t want to give undue precious time to beating the clock on Scantron tests— a skill that’s not nearly as transferable or important in college or the real world.

 

I fear that my evaluation under the Duncan-Bloomberg system would declare me an utter failure; I know that I’m not. I fear that I’d be kicked out of the profession I love because I hadn’t prepped my kids enough for a specific kind of timed test. Under evaluation-by-test-score-system, my class would be all test prep, all the time. Otherwise I couldn’t be confident that I could continue to keep my much-needed job.

 The
use of military and sports metaphors to describe teaching and learning makes me
crazy. I hate it when teachers say they're "in the trenches." Calling
common standards "goalposts" grates on my sensibilities, as do drills,
recruits, maneuvers, tactics and racing to the top. I can never figure out who's
fighting--or who's winning--or why we're at war to begin with.

 

And
now we've been advised to develop instructional "platoons" in
elementary school
, the better to lock and load, pinpointing our achievement targets
with more precision. We can become an elite teaching force, a well-oiled
instructional machine, mowing down mathematical skills like Sherman marching to
the sea, and all that.

 

In
2005, I was teaching music in a K-4 building. I ate lunch with the three fourth
grade teachers, all of whom were smart and hip. I was consistently impressed
with their ongoing conversations about How to Make Things Better for Fourth
Graders.  They shared everything--lesson
planning, materials, moments of instructional illumination, things kids said in
class. In the fall, they started dividing up the lesson creation process, with
each teacher going deeper into one of three subjects in the fourth grade
curriculum--math, science and social studies. They all taught reading at the
same time, using the assigned building-wide program, but they were
experimenting with flexibly sharing their students for mini-lessons around
particular skills and topics.

 

There
were about 85 kids in the 4th grade, and their rooms were side by side. By the
end of September, the teachers knew all the 4th graders--and were convinced
that they could do a better job of instruction if they specialized in teaching one
subject, and ran the 4th grade reading program collaboratively, as well. They
drew up an elaborate plan--they called it "switching"--detailing
the benefits.

 

They
didn't make it past the first 15 minutes with the principal, who emphatically
said that parents preferred a single teacher for their young children--a teacher
who would be responsive to a particular child's unique needs. It would also take
valuable instructional time for the kids to move to a new class; when the
teachers explained that the kids would sit tight, and that it would take approximately
30 seconds for teachers to move next door, the principal got huffy.

 

She
said there was research showing that elementary students achieved more when
they stayed with the same teacher all day. At the time, the K-8 movement (a
reactionary response to the maligned "middle school concept") was taking
root in urban districts, keeping kids together all day. And finally, she shot
the plan dead by telling them that she was the decision-maker, and she was
convinced that their plan was nothing more than a sneaky way to make their
lives easier and reduce their personal workload.

 

They
had a second meeting with the principal, and this time the union representative
came, but no dice. Further--the principal had now noticed that the teachers
were occasionally switching kids for reading and put the kibosh on that as
well. One teacher, 28 kids, no switching--and that was that. Because I got to
hear lots of lunchtime exasperation about this situation, I did a quick scan of
research and found one or two old studies that supported the principal's position,
and a couple that supported the teachers' position. What all the research does
say is that the quality of teaching matters a great deal--and that teachers'
relationships with students are all-important. No surprises. But no research slam
dunk for either side of the issue.

 

Of
course, that was just switching, not platooning, which suddenly seems to be all the rage.
There is now a widely accepted theory that elementary teachers' lack of
mathematical knowledge is the cause of our failure to rout and crush the
international competition on math battles--I mean tests. It's worth pointing
out that the research on this is mixed, too--but we're already on the march, strategically
selecting a few good teachers to lead the charge.

 

In
the end, it's just another example of our national faith in tools and
levers--rather than people--to solve problems. The fourth grade teachers in my
school were willing to lead and invested in the outcomes of their simple plan.
That should count for more than snappy language.

I
wish I had a dollar for every time a parent told me their fondest wish was that
their child be happy. As in: "I'm not worried about Jason's grades--I just
want him to have friends and be happy.
" Or: "I'm not going to insist that Mandy practice her flute. If it doesn't
make her happy, she can just quit.

I sometimes wonder about the pursuit of happiness as iconic American goal.
I'm quite sure that Jefferson had something more noble and laudable in mind
than deciding whether he should jot down a bit of transformative political
philosophy--or perhaps take a nap, whichever seemed more fulfilling at the
moment.

It's
a good week for thinking about what makes us happy--and how we, the village,
can raise our collective children to pursue the kind of happiness that matters,
while simultaneously being aware of and grateful for their many blessings.

In
TIME magazine this week, Nancy Gibbs muses on the confounding information that
Americans scored higher on the ongoing Gallup "well-being index" this
summer than they did last summer. Although happiness plummeted in the months
after the economic meltdown, our national sense of well-being began to increase
in the spring
, and has remained relatively high since, even though the news--pretty
much all the news--has been downright awful. 

Gibbs
suggests that Americans have adjusted their expectations, and that's a healthy
thing:

While optimism
is the all-American anesthetic, at some point Expectation Inflation was bound
to take its toll. I'm struck by how many people tell pollsters that the
voluntary downshifting and downsizing of the past year have come as a kind of
relief. Maybe we've lowered our standards. But we already knew that money can
buy only comfort, not contentment; happiness correlates much more closely with
our causes and connections than with our net worth.

How
does this square with current education oratory and thinking, wherein "low
expectations" are now equated with soft bigotry? It's clear that our
generational train of progress-through-education--the laborer's son becomes a
merchant, the merchant's son a professional, with each subsequent generation achieving
more--is creaking to an end. We are outstripping our natural resources and have
tilted our economy into crippling debt. The gap between rich and poor is
growing; I'm guessing the people who expressed relief about downshifting were
moving from the top tier into the middle. 

We
can expect all we want, but the reality is that we seem to be heading into a
period where the Real Housewives of Atlanta might become appalling symbols of
tacky excess, rather than an amusing glimpse into the style and habits of
people lucky enough to pursue their personal pleasures. Are we re-defining
happiness as much more than recognition, entertainment and stuff?

Speaking
of expectations, how can we blithely critique teachers for not using "high
expectations" as a handy tool to leverage student learning, when we're
ambivalent about providing those same kids with adequate health care? Don't we
want all children to reach for more than credentials and possessions--should we
expect them to become productive in ways other than generating wealth?

Maybe
we need to re-examine our current goal focus on college degrees, and how many
more dollars they're likely to yield over a  lifetime of work, and start looking at non-material
aspirations and rewards, for our own children and for the nation. Here are the three
core outcomes I want for my own children, as a result of their formal and
informal education:

  • Important
    work. Work that leads to making something better, whether it's particularly
    lucrative or not. Work that is variable, challenging and absorbing.
  •  Civic
    engagement. Involvement in groups, relationships with people who have similar goals,
    volunteering, participating in relevant ways in the life of their community.
  • Intellectual
    curiosity. A life-long interest in a broad range of issues and disciplines, and
    willingness to read, travel, discuss, ponder, and consider alternative points
    of view. 

Of
course, I want my children to be free from hunger and fear (and the fact that I
take such basic needs for granted probably speaks to the privileges I enjoy as
an American citizen). Continuous happiness, however, seems like a pretty
lightweight and empty goal.  Gratitude is
a better place to begin.

Thanks
for reading Teacher in a Strange Land. 
Happy Thanksgiving.

Image: TheABU@ Flicker Creative Commons

At
the last high school graduation I attended as faculty member, I sat on the
stage, robed and hooded, with the rest of the teachers who served as honor
guard for the class. Normally, commencement was held in the football stadium,
but a downpour forced us into the auditorium where all graduates and attendees
were up close and personal, not to mention damp and uncomfortable.

From
my vantage point, I could reach out and touch graduates as they crossed the
stage--and see right up the gowns of the young men sitting, splay-legged, in
the front row. In spite of the class advisors' admonitions--and, probably,
their mothers'--many of the boys were wearing shorts and flip-flops and didn't
appear to be duly impressed with the ceremonial aspects of the occasion. I was
surprised at how many of them were bearded, or sporting cool-dude facial hair;
physically, these were full-grown men.

I
started thinking about my district's four-option school entry program: students
could enter school via "developmental" kindergarten and/or regular
kindergarten, and those who "needed a little more time" could do a
year in junior first grade, before moving on to regular first grade. Parents tailored
two- or three-year combination plans to get their kids to second grade, and the
large majority of those taking three years were boys. Because of the desire to
give their sons a leg up, back then, many of the young men sitting in front of
me were a hormonal nineteen years old. They'd been driving for four years, and
could easily have been carrying an M-16 in Iraq. In an earlier century, they
would have struck out on their own long before, as farmers, wayfarers or
fathers.

Today,
of course, the conventional wisdom is that their economic goose is cooked
unless they seek further education. This week's cover story in
Newsweek--"Why College Should Take Only Three Years" (by Lamar
Alexander), and a follow-up roundtable with higher ed luminaries discussing
"What is College For, Anyway?" don't manage to make an airtight case for the
three-year plan. But both pieces shed light on the big questions that we ought
be asking about a college education:

  • Are
    high school seniors poorly educated and thus unready for college--or are they merely
    bored with the low challenge of high school?
  • What
    does anyone need to know and be able to do to make a success in a modern
    economy? Seriously. Is there a formula for job readiness in non-technical
    fields?
  • What
    comes first: a broad, internalized knowledge base, or the skills to analyze and
    evaluate the surfeit of information and data available to everyone?
  • Does
    technology make it easier and faster to learn--or more challenging to develop
    focus
  • Is
    there a one-size-fits-all plan, a general agreement about how much coursework represents
    a bachelor's degree? And does the new standard for being well-educated now automatically
    include a second degree, beyond the B.A.--upping the educational ante once
    again?

No
consensus reached. In fact, the various experts did not agree on the primary
purpose of pursuing a college degree--is it building workplace skills, developing
an educated citizenry, or simply the credential needed to the lock the bearer
into a higher socioeconomic stratum?

Here's
an image from Robert Zemsky, education reformer and professor at the University
of Pennsylvania: College is like a supermarket where we let students freely
choose courses. When they get to the cash register, we tell them they don't
have the right things in their shopping carts, so they must continue shopping,
for five or more less-than-fruitful years. Might it be an intellectually
productive thing, that academic mucking about? Or is it a nationally
embarrassing inefficiency, a waste of time and money?

I'm
not sure. At some point, young people need to grow up, spend time working,
traveling, living independently, making their own choices. Going to college or
trade school should be motivated by a desire to learn something, be it plumbing
or Shakespearean sonnets. You can't put off adulthood and real life forever.

Image: Uhuru1701, Flickr Creative Commons

Teachers know this, but our knowledge is not reaching the deciders.

Male dropouts are more than three times more likely to get locked up than their counterparts who finish high school. A quarter of all African American males that don’t finish high school will find themselves behind bars. Unemployment rates for young people are over 20 percent higher for dropouts than for high school graduates.

It costs our society a lot— economically and psychologically— more to lock somebody up than to educate him.

This dropout crisis is often mislabeled as a “high school dropout crisis.” Yes, the last years of physically attending school for dropouts happens in ninth- through twelfth-grade. However, the ones who leave are mentally gone long before freshman year.

Sam Dillon’s recent New York Times article presents stark statistics of the extreme consequences that follow not getting a high school degree:

Some juicy tidbits:

The [Northeastern University] report puts the collective cost to the nation over the working life of each high school dropout at $292,000. Mr. Sum said that figure took into account lost tax revenues, since dropouts earn less and therefore pay less in taxes than high school graduates. It also includes the costs of providing food stamps and other aid to dropouts and of incarcerating those who turn to crime.

54 percent of dropouts ages 16 to 24 were jobless, compared with 32 percent for high school graduates of the same age, and 13 percent for those with a college degree.

Again, the statistics were worse for young African-American dropouts, whose unemployment rate last year was 69 percent, compared with 54 percent for whites and 47 percent for Hispanics.

Scary stuff. Fortunately, it’s not an impossible mystery to figure out why many students don’t finish school. Kids leave when they don’t have a good reason to stay. Good reasons to stay include:

  • Feeling successful in school

(So many students with low skills feel like failures and are perpetually at their frustration level. Sitting through classes where they’re lost is torturous.)

  • Connecting with positive role models

(Many adults who work in schools do heroic work here, but I bet every one of them wishes class sizes were smaller so that crucial one-on-one and small-group opportunities will be more available.)

  • Understanding where it’s all heading

(Lots of students who drop out see no road map to college or point of reference for how to be happy and successful on that path. Limited exposure to the world beyond their immediate reality is crippling in this regard.)

Stemming the dropout crisis involves investing in all of these areas for preschool and elementary school students. That’s when the race starts, and that’s where the resources are most needed.

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