Today is the first day of school in NYC, which always brings back a flood of memories for me. But today it's making me think about something a little different.
I left the classroom. I left the classroom for a number of reasons, but near the top is that my experiences there were horrible. In the end, even if I wanted to, I just couldn't stand the thought of teaching for the next 30 or so years. In the end, I was too weak to make it.
And yet, I now find myself up in the ivory tower consorting with others who regularly cast stones at the lowly teachers (who simply need to put up or shut up if we ever want to fix our disaster of an educational system). And you know what? Most of them couldn't hack it in the classroom either.
There's a lot of lip service from us non-teachers about how important teachers are, but I'd say there's even more disrespect. Whether anybody wants to admit it or not, the word "teacher" is said with at least some amount of disdain in many policy circles.
And that troubles me. Not because there aren't bad teachers out there, but because most people not only couldn't do much better, they don't even have the courage to try. No amount of money could convince me to go back and teach in the Bronx permanently. I shudder even thinking about it.
I still remember my last day of teaching and the conversation I had with another teacher. He was a former business executive twice my age, but had been a teaching fellow just like me. "Worst two of years of my life," he said. "Mine too," I said (which he scoffed at because of our age differential).
Today's the first day of school (in NYC, here in TN some schools started a month ago). Where are you? Are you in the classroom? If not, why? And how should that make you feel about those who are?
Teachers catch a lot of flak for resisting change (among other things). But to everyone else out there who couldn't hack it in the classroom (or doesn't want to try), I ask you this: shouldn't those who actually show up in a classroom every day be at least a little wary of what we say?
If you were a teacher, would you want somebody who can't or won't teach telling you what to do? I'm not arguing that those of us outside the classroom never have anything valuable to suggest, just that we're usually arrogant in the way we suggest it. If we can't hack it in the classroom, we can at least mind our p's and q's when talking to, or about, those who can.
To all you teachers out there who are still doing what I couldn't, I tip my hat to you. Today I acknowledge that, in many ways, you are better than I. Today I acknowledge that you are far more important to our educational system than anybody wearing a fancy suit or carrying fancy credentials. And, as such, today I acknowledge that my role as a researcher should be to help you. I'll do my best. I trust you'll do the same.
Showing posts with label Teachers and Policy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Teachers and Policy. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Friday, September 4, 2009
Steven Brill Wrote a Really Bad Article
I tried to think of a cutesy title for a while, perhaps involving a pun, but I decided to just say what I thought.
On Sunday, I wrote that it's probably not as hard to get rid of "bad teachers" as many might think. That was prompted largely by this piece in the New Yorker by Steven Brill about NYC's so-called "rubber room." Just so we're all on the same page here, the rubber room (actually a variety of locations throughout the city) are where teachers who are accused of misdeeds or rated unsatisfactory by their principals are sent to twiddle their thumbs until they get a hearing. Teachers often report there for years, getting paid to do little besides gossip and catch up on their crosswords.
When I started seeing reaction to Brill's piece (before reading it), I thought it was going to be an illuminating piece on life inside the rubber room. So I read it. Turns out it was a slanted hit job on teachers and their unions instead. Maybe it's not the New Yorker's style, but there was never any pretense that this would be an objective piece or attempt to answer honest questions. Instead, he went searching for proof that teachers' unions are bad and that Joel Klein is right.
He manages to uncover some anecdotes that should thoroughly embarrass the union and highlight some rules and procedures that need to be altered. But he does so with a chip on his shoulder and a disjointed view of reality. Here are his seven deadly sins:
1.) He seems to assume that all teachers in the rubber room are bad teachers and/or bad people (the subtitle is "the battle over New York City's worst teachers"). He snidely notes that a teacher who has been in the rubber room for two years and claims to deserve every penny of her salary got into teaching because she "loves children." I have little doubt that a good number of the people in the rubber room shouldn't be teaching. But I'm also quite sure that more than a couple never should've been assigned there in the first place. So to suddenly decide that all 600 or so teachers are among the worst human beings alive seems rather extreme. Especially since he reports only being granted access to the records of one of the teachers. In the future, he should learn more about people before condemning them.
2.) He cites numbers as gospel that don't mean nearly what he says they do. He says that in 2002 97% of teachers earn tenure, that 99% are rated satisfactory, and that almost none were fired. But he fails to take into account that at least half of all teachers in NYC quit before they're ever eligible for tenure. Or that a heck of a lot of teachers leave their school and/or the profession without being rated unsatisfactory or being fired. Besides, those stats could just as easily mean that there are a lot of good teachers -- or, if that's not the case, that principals are failing to report problems in their schools. A more critical examination of the numbers was in order.
3.) He cites the 2006 Brookings report that reported back of the envelope calculations concluding that having the best teachers for four consecutive years can close the achievement gap. Despite the fact that this haphazard calculation has been widely discredited by an array of scholars. There was never any evidence that this statement might be true, it was simply an ill-informed guess. But it's awfully convenient to cite when cherry-picking evidence to use against your enemies.
4.) His comments on the Absent Teacher Reserve are overly simplistic. It's likely that a good number of ATR teachers who remain without jobs for a long period of time are either not ideal candidates or not trying too hard to find a job. But there's also evidence that principals shy away from hiring experienced ATR teachers in order to hire younger, cheaper teachers. This could be corrected by changing the way such hires affect a school's budget. Brill fails to address this. Or the fact that teachers are in the ATR through no fault or shortcoming of their own. Nor does he take any time to investigate whether the NYC Dept. of Education -- which, usually, is responsible for teachers being placed in the ATR -- is making a good faith attempt to help these teachers find jobs. Or at least providing them with the necessary information regarding job openings in a practical manner.
5.) He presents an uncritical look at value-added test scores -- assuming that anybody who says using such measures is a good thing is smart and anybody who says we should be careful when using it is obstinate. These measures are simply not ready for prime time. Period. NYC tried using invalid measures to grade schools, and what was the result? 97% of all schools in one of the worst districts in the country were awarded an A or a B. Wouldn't it be ironic if the use of test scores for tenure decisions was adopted in order to make it easier to fire teachers and, instead, it made it harder? Given how much easier this year's state test was than the previous year's, that's likely what would have happened -- gains in scores would indicate that almost all teachers did a phenomenal job, making it harder to deny tenure to those with questionable records. Let's think through the possible ramifications of using value-added scores before deciding to do so.
6.) Brill reports that 1.8% of NYC's 87,300 teachers received unsatisfactory ratings last year, but that only 50 people total are in the rubber room while "the rest still teach." Given that most people remain in the rubber room for 2-3 years, this would mean that only about 20 of the 1570 or so teachers rated unsatisfactory each year are removed from the classroom, while the other 1550 remain. And that's simply not true. It would mean that only 20 per year are removed from the classroom and choose to fight it. I'm almost positive that more than 1% of the teachers rated unsatisfactory are not allowed to remain in the classroom the following year. But even if I'm wrong about that, he neither includes those who are asked to leave and do so quietly nor the umpteen teachers who self-select out or are asked to leave without a corresponding U rating.
7.) Worst of all, he ruined what could've been a fantastic article. He found some legitimate problems that need to be dealt with in the next round of contract negotiations. He has some fascinating stories to tell from his experiences in the mysterious rubber room. I find it especially interesting that every teacher he mentions seems so adamant that they've been persecuted by a Bloomberg/Klein regime to which they seem militantly opposed. I would really like to know more about why this is. Instead, he mockingly dismisses their claims and wonders why it's so hard to fire "freaks" and "crazies." And this is typical of the rest of the article. He could've reported facts, provided illuminating stories, and begun a sensible discussion on what to do about all this. Instead, he provides a slanted analysis of a variety of misleading facts peppered with snide remarks. And that's too bad.
On Sunday, I wrote that it's probably not as hard to get rid of "bad teachers" as many might think. That was prompted largely by this piece in the New Yorker by Steven Brill about NYC's so-called "rubber room." Just so we're all on the same page here, the rubber room (actually a variety of locations throughout the city) are where teachers who are accused of misdeeds or rated unsatisfactory by their principals are sent to twiddle their thumbs until they get a hearing. Teachers often report there for years, getting paid to do little besides gossip and catch up on their crosswords.
When I started seeing reaction to Brill's piece (before reading it), I thought it was going to be an illuminating piece on life inside the rubber room. So I read it. Turns out it was a slanted hit job on teachers and their unions instead. Maybe it's not the New Yorker's style, but there was never any pretense that this would be an objective piece or attempt to answer honest questions. Instead, he went searching for proof that teachers' unions are bad and that Joel Klein is right.
He manages to uncover some anecdotes that should thoroughly embarrass the union and highlight some rules and procedures that need to be altered. But he does so with a chip on his shoulder and a disjointed view of reality. Here are his seven deadly sins:
1.) He seems to assume that all teachers in the rubber room are bad teachers and/or bad people (the subtitle is "the battle over New York City's worst teachers"). He snidely notes that a teacher who has been in the rubber room for two years and claims to deserve every penny of her salary got into teaching because she "loves children." I have little doubt that a good number of the people in the rubber room shouldn't be teaching. But I'm also quite sure that more than a couple never should've been assigned there in the first place. So to suddenly decide that all 600 or so teachers are among the worst human beings alive seems rather extreme. Especially since he reports only being granted access to the records of one of the teachers. In the future, he should learn more about people before condemning them.
2.) He cites numbers as gospel that don't mean nearly what he says they do. He says that in 2002 97% of teachers earn tenure, that 99% are rated satisfactory, and that almost none were fired. But he fails to take into account that at least half of all teachers in NYC quit before they're ever eligible for tenure. Or that a heck of a lot of teachers leave their school and/or the profession without being rated unsatisfactory or being fired. Besides, those stats could just as easily mean that there are a lot of good teachers -- or, if that's not the case, that principals are failing to report problems in their schools. A more critical examination of the numbers was in order.
3.) He cites the 2006 Brookings report that reported back of the envelope calculations concluding that having the best teachers for four consecutive years can close the achievement gap. Despite the fact that this haphazard calculation has been widely discredited by an array of scholars. There was never any evidence that this statement might be true, it was simply an ill-informed guess. But it's awfully convenient to cite when cherry-picking evidence to use against your enemies.
4.) His comments on the Absent Teacher Reserve are overly simplistic. It's likely that a good number of ATR teachers who remain without jobs for a long period of time are either not ideal candidates or not trying too hard to find a job. But there's also evidence that principals shy away from hiring experienced ATR teachers in order to hire younger, cheaper teachers. This could be corrected by changing the way such hires affect a school's budget. Brill fails to address this. Or the fact that teachers are in the ATR through no fault or shortcoming of their own. Nor does he take any time to investigate whether the NYC Dept. of Education -- which, usually, is responsible for teachers being placed in the ATR -- is making a good faith attempt to help these teachers find jobs. Or at least providing them with the necessary information regarding job openings in a practical manner.
5.) He presents an uncritical look at value-added test scores -- assuming that anybody who says using such measures is a good thing is smart and anybody who says we should be careful when using it is obstinate. These measures are simply not ready for prime time. Period. NYC tried using invalid measures to grade schools, and what was the result? 97% of all schools in one of the worst districts in the country were awarded an A or a B. Wouldn't it be ironic if the use of test scores for tenure decisions was adopted in order to make it easier to fire teachers and, instead, it made it harder? Given how much easier this year's state test was than the previous year's, that's likely what would have happened -- gains in scores would indicate that almost all teachers did a phenomenal job, making it harder to deny tenure to those with questionable records. Let's think through the possible ramifications of using value-added scores before deciding to do so.
6.) Brill reports that 1.8% of NYC's 87,300 teachers received unsatisfactory ratings last year, but that only 50 people total are in the rubber room while "the rest still teach." Given that most people remain in the rubber room for 2-3 years, this would mean that only about 20 of the 1570 or so teachers rated unsatisfactory each year are removed from the classroom, while the other 1550 remain. And that's simply not true. It would mean that only 20 per year are removed from the classroom and choose to fight it. I'm almost positive that more than 1% of the teachers rated unsatisfactory are not allowed to remain in the classroom the following year. But even if I'm wrong about that, he neither includes those who are asked to leave and do so quietly nor the umpteen teachers who self-select out or are asked to leave without a corresponding U rating.
7.) Worst of all, he ruined what could've been a fantastic article. He found some legitimate problems that need to be dealt with in the next round of contract negotiations. He has some fascinating stories to tell from his experiences in the mysterious rubber room. I find it especially interesting that every teacher he mentions seems so adamant that they've been persecuted by a Bloomberg/Klein regime to which they seem militantly opposed. I would really like to know more about why this is. Instead, he mockingly dismisses their claims and wonders why it's so hard to fire "freaks" and "crazies." And this is typical of the rest of the article. He could've reported facts, provided illuminating stories, and begun a sensible discussion on what to do about all this. Instead, he provides a slanted analysis of a variety of misleading facts peppered with snide remarks. And that's too bad.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Sunday Commentary: Why getting rid of bad teachers probably isn't as hard as you think
Teacher quality is the most important within-school factor influencing educational performance. And every school should be serious about doing what it takes to recruit, develop, and retain the best teachers possible. People complain about how difficult all three of these are, but it seems that the firing of "bad teachers" draws the most attention.
I've read countless alarmist pieces decrying the fact that only about 1-2% of teachers are rated unsatisfactory in a myriad of districts. And the recent hit job published by the New Yorker seems to have made people even more upset. A plaintive cry seems to be rising from the public: "why are bad teachers so hard to fire?!" Followed, of course, by "this must stop!!"
Well, there are actually some good reasons that teachers are hard to fire -- but that's another topic for another time. My gut feeling on this, though, is that it's not quite as hard for a principal to remove a bad teacher from a school as many seem to assume. Before I explain why, let me add that I'm not saying it's an easy thing to do but, rather, that it's not as hard as many are making it out to be. Here's why:
1.) It's not at all clear that there should be many more teachers receiving unsatisfactory ratings (in other words, that our schools are overrun with bad teachers). Only about 1% of teachers in San Francisco are rated "improvement needed," "does not meet standards," or "unsatisfactory." Yet, about 2/3 of principals report that they always or frequently assign such ratings to teachers who deserve them. And 94% "at least somewhat agree that teachers who are not performing 'up to standards' receive Improvement Needed or Unsatisfactory ratings." (p. 43 of this report).
2.) Teachers don't need to be rated unsatisfactory to leave a school or the profession. Untold teachers are simply "counseled out" (or succumb to threats) and leave without ever receiving a negative evaluation or filing a protest. My principal decided to set her sights on a few teachers she didn't like my second year. None received unsatisfactory ratings, but none were teaching at the school the following year. In short, just because 1% are being rated unsatisfactory doesn't mean that only 1% are being fired.
3.) It's not clear that principals are doing all they can to thoroughly evaluate their staff and rid their schools of teachers they don't think are helping children. Evaluations are regularly treated nonchalantly in a number of places. I had an Asst. Principal my second year who simply asked for a lesson plan from teachers so she could write up evaluations and put them in their file. I had one evaluator forget to come one day and ask me to repeat the same lesson again with the same kids the following day. She and another one sat through about 10 minutes of the lesson, but wrote up evaluations as though they'd been there for 40. I was never formally evaluated the mandatory three times per year for beginning teachers. In order to make up for the lack of evaluations my first year we received vaguely worded positive (actually, glowing) evaluations from the principal to sign off on. In the end, there were long evaluation sheets that administrators had to fill out at the end of each year rating teachers on a myriad of categories (anything you can imagine, including dress and punctuality) followed by an overall rating. Both years I received a satisfactory evaluation in every single category. I can assure you I did not deserve this.
Have some rules gone too far? Undoubtedly. Are there some teachers entrenched in positions they shouldn't be in? Of course. But there are some relatively simple and painless solutions to a lot of these problems. And it's really not worth declaring that teachers and their unions are the scourge of the Earth.
Before deciding it's the end of the world, I'd like to see some evidence that there are really that many bad teachers entrenched in their positions (and, lets forget, better teachers waiting to take their places). I'd also like to hear some calmer discussion about how to encourage teachers that aren't a good fit to go elsewhere -- and keep in mind that sometimes a "bad teacher" can become a better teacher, let's not treat them like lepers. Lastly, I'd like to see some evidence that principals are living up to their end of the bargain. I find it odd that when we hear about a bad teacher, people aren't asking the following questions: How did that teacher get tenure? Were they really good enough to earn it, or were they given a free pass by a principal who wasn't paying attention?
So please put down your pitchforks and join me in a sensible discussion of how to better ensure schools retain the best teachers they can.
I've read countless alarmist pieces decrying the fact that only about 1-2% of teachers are rated unsatisfactory in a myriad of districts. And the recent hit job published by the New Yorker seems to have made people even more upset. A plaintive cry seems to be rising from the public: "why are bad teachers so hard to fire?!" Followed, of course, by "this must stop!!"
Well, there are actually some good reasons that teachers are hard to fire -- but that's another topic for another time. My gut feeling on this, though, is that it's not quite as hard for a principal to remove a bad teacher from a school as many seem to assume. Before I explain why, let me add that I'm not saying it's an easy thing to do but, rather, that it's not as hard as many are making it out to be. Here's why:
1.) It's not at all clear that there should be many more teachers receiving unsatisfactory ratings (in other words, that our schools are overrun with bad teachers). Only about 1% of teachers in San Francisco are rated "improvement needed," "does not meet standards," or "unsatisfactory." Yet, about 2/3 of principals report that they always or frequently assign such ratings to teachers who deserve them. And 94% "at least somewhat agree that teachers who are not performing 'up to standards' receive Improvement Needed or Unsatisfactory ratings." (p. 43 of this report).
2.) Teachers don't need to be rated unsatisfactory to leave a school or the profession. Untold teachers are simply "counseled out" (or succumb to threats) and leave without ever receiving a negative evaluation or filing a protest. My principal decided to set her sights on a few teachers she didn't like my second year. None received unsatisfactory ratings, but none were teaching at the school the following year. In short, just because 1% are being rated unsatisfactory doesn't mean that only 1% are being fired.
3.) It's not clear that principals are doing all they can to thoroughly evaluate their staff and rid their schools of teachers they don't think are helping children. Evaluations are regularly treated nonchalantly in a number of places. I had an Asst. Principal my second year who simply asked for a lesson plan from teachers so she could write up evaluations and put them in their file. I had one evaluator forget to come one day and ask me to repeat the same lesson again with the same kids the following day. She and another one sat through about 10 minutes of the lesson, but wrote up evaluations as though they'd been there for 40. I was never formally evaluated the mandatory three times per year for beginning teachers. In order to make up for the lack of evaluations my first year we received vaguely worded positive (actually, glowing) evaluations from the principal to sign off on. In the end, there were long evaluation sheets that administrators had to fill out at the end of each year rating teachers on a myriad of categories (anything you can imagine, including dress and punctuality) followed by an overall rating. Both years I received a satisfactory evaluation in every single category. I can assure you I did not deserve this.
Have some rules gone too far? Undoubtedly. Are there some teachers entrenched in positions they shouldn't be in? Of course. But there are some relatively simple and painless solutions to a lot of these problems. And it's really not worth declaring that teachers and their unions are the scourge of the Earth.
Before deciding it's the end of the world, I'd like to see some evidence that there are really that many bad teachers entrenched in their positions (and, lets forget, better teachers waiting to take their places). I'd also like to hear some calmer discussion about how to encourage teachers that aren't a good fit to go elsewhere -- and keep in mind that sometimes a "bad teacher" can become a better teacher, let's not treat them like lepers. Lastly, I'd like to see some evidence that principals are living up to their end of the bargain. I find it odd that when we hear about a bad teacher, people aren't asking the following questions: How did that teacher get tenure? Were they really good enough to earn it, or were they given a free pass by a principal who wasn't paying attention?
So please put down your pitchforks and join me in a sensible discussion of how to better ensure schools retain the best teachers they can.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Sunday Commentary: Do Teachers (Or Schools) Know How to Improve?
Let us assume for a second that we know how to measure how good a teacher (or a school) is. We can then know exactly how well one is performing and hold them accountable for poor performance. In such accountability schemes those who underperform are essentially scolded and warned that they must do better. But we're making a huge assumption when we do this: that teachers (or schools) know how to get better.
And I'm not sure we're as safe making this assumption as many seem to, well, assume. We can berate teacher training and professional development until the cows comes home, but in the end a teacher (or a school) is on their own to figure out how to improve. And I don't think it's as easy as it looks -- or that the answer is as obvious as it might appear.
Most accountability systems seem to insinuate that those who underperform do so because they're not trying hard enough. If this is true, then improvement is easy -- one simply needs to work harder. If this is true, then accountability systems seem like a reasonably good idea -- they will help rid us of those who aren't willing to work hard.
But anybody who knows anything about teaching and schools will recognize that effort is far from the only determinant of success. And that working harder will not always yield better results. Let's use athletics as an example. If you wanted to become better at, say, tennis or golf, would you just go out and hit a ball until your hands blistered? Maybe. And it might help a little. But if you were really serious about it, you'd probably go see a coach, take a lesson, or at least read some articles or how-to books. You'd have to learn the proper techniques, practice those certain techniques, and, if you're really serious about improving, get some feedback on your practice attempts. As they say, "practice doesn't make perfect: perfect practices makes perfect." In other words, it's not a simple manner to get better -- one has to first know how to get better and then work both hard and smart. And it's certainly not a simple process.
And teaching is quite similar. The only way that an accountability system can ever work is if teachers (or schools) know how to improve. If we simply say "that's not good enough, you have to do better," we're assuming that they know how to improve. But what happens when one asks "how do I do better?" I know math and literacy coaches have proliferated in the last decade, but I'm not sure that we typically a.) have somebody to answer that question, and b.) have an answer to the question. And I'm even less sure that many teachers would know the answer to the question.
Of course, one could argue that improvement isn't necessary for an accountability system to work (though it would be for an incentive system to work), that it could also work by weeding out the bad apples in order to replace them with ripe ones. We can argue all day about whether or not there's a teacher shortage, but it's pretty clear that quite a few troubled schools also have trouble recruiting enough talented teachers. Similarly, we can extol the virtues of charter and private schools until the cows come home, but I don't think many people are under the illusion that starting new schools is a quick and easy process. In other words, in order for accountability systems to work we need to make sure that teachers (and schools) know how to get better before we decide on how to punish them for performing poorly (or rewarding them for performing well).
At some point in the coming months the National Center on Performance Incentives is going to release the initial results of the first randomized field trial using performance pay -- 100 middle school math teachers were offered bonuses ranging from $5,000 to $15,000 for three subsequent years based on gains in state test scores. And the results are going to get a lot of attention however they turn out. And most people will want to know one main thing: whether the 100 teachers in the treatment group outperformed the 100 teachers in the control group. It's an interesting an important question. But regardless of the answer, we need to find out why. How did teachers respond to the chance to earn incentives? Did they work harder? Did they change their pedagogy? Assign more homework? Spend more time on test prep? Attend more professional development? Do nothing? And what happened when they did these things? Did they become better teachers, or at least produce better test scores? In other words, did teachers who tried to improve accomplish their goal? Can we, in fact, say that teachers know how to improve? To me, those are more important questions.
We can't say that we know how to fix the educational system until we know whether teachers (and schools) know how to get better. And accountability and incentive systems will never work unless they do. And eventually people will realize this. As Nancy Flanagan put it in a comment on Robert Pondiscio's latest post: "We don’t have any helpful new ideas about classroom management in the 21st century, but we’ve decided to punish you when you fail, anyway."
And I'm not sure we're as safe making this assumption as many seem to, well, assume. We can berate teacher training and professional development until the cows comes home, but in the end a teacher (or a school) is on their own to figure out how to improve. And I don't think it's as easy as it looks -- or that the answer is as obvious as it might appear.
Most accountability systems seem to insinuate that those who underperform do so because they're not trying hard enough. If this is true, then improvement is easy -- one simply needs to work harder. If this is true, then accountability systems seem like a reasonably good idea -- they will help rid us of those who aren't willing to work hard.
But anybody who knows anything about teaching and schools will recognize that effort is far from the only determinant of success. And that working harder will not always yield better results. Let's use athletics as an example. If you wanted to become better at, say, tennis or golf, would you just go out and hit a ball until your hands blistered? Maybe. And it might help a little. But if you were really serious about it, you'd probably go see a coach, take a lesson, or at least read some articles or how-to books. You'd have to learn the proper techniques, practice those certain techniques, and, if you're really serious about improving, get some feedback on your practice attempts. As they say, "practice doesn't make perfect: perfect practices makes perfect." In other words, it's not a simple manner to get better -- one has to first know how to get better and then work both hard and smart. And it's certainly not a simple process.
And teaching is quite similar. The only way that an accountability system can ever work is if teachers (or schools) know how to improve. If we simply say "that's not good enough, you have to do better," we're assuming that they know how to improve. But what happens when one asks "how do I do better?" I know math and literacy coaches have proliferated in the last decade, but I'm not sure that we typically a.) have somebody to answer that question, and b.) have an answer to the question. And I'm even less sure that many teachers would know the answer to the question.
Of course, one could argue that improvement isn't necessary for an accountability system to work (though it would be for an incentive system to work), that it could also work by weeding out the bad apples in order to replace them with ripe ones. We can argue all day about whether or not there's a teacher shortage, but it's pretty clear that quite a few troubled schools also have trouble recruiting enough talented teachers. Similarly, we can extol the virtues of charter and private schools until the cows come home, but I don't think many people are under the illusion that starting new schools is a quick and easy process. In other words, in order for accountability systems to work we need to make sure that teachers (and schools) know how to get better before we decide on how to punish them for performing poorly (or rewarding them for performing well).
At some point in the coming months the National Center on Performance Incentives is going to release the initial results of the first randomized field trial using performance pay -- 100 middle school math teachers were offered bonuses ranging from $5,000 to $15,000 for three subsequent years based on gains in state test scores. And the results are going to get a lot of attention however they turn out. And most people will want to know one main thing: whether the 100 teachers in the treatment group outperformed the 100 teachers in the control group. It's an interesting an important question. But regardless of the answer, we need to find out why. How did teachers respond to the chance to earn incentives? Did they work harder? Did they change their pedagogy? Assign more homework? Spend more time on test prep? Attend more professional development? Do nothing? And what happened when they did these things? Did they become better teachers, or at least produce better test scores? In other words, did teachers who tried to improve accomplish their goal? Can we, in fact, say that teachers know how to improve? To me, those are more important questions.
We can't say that we know how to fix the educational system until we know whether teachers (and schools) know how to get better. And accountability and incentive systems will never work unless they do. And eventually people will realize this. As Nancy Flanagan put it in a comment on Robert Pondiscio's latest post: "We don’t have any helpful new ideas about classroom management in the 21st century, but we’ve decided to punish you when you fail, anyway."
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Teaching: A Thankless Job?
As I was procrastinating/reading the news yesterday I couldn't help but notice some positive news regarding Metro Nashville's schools -- test scores improved just enough for the district to make "safe harbor" and avoid state takeover. But I found some of the comments written by readers more interesting.
Says one reader (gregoryjohn):
And another (Lforcommunity) in response:
I heard similar reactions when test scores shot up one year in NYC -- the chancellor's office rejoiced that their new initiatives were working while teachers wondered if they shouldn't receive the credit. And I can't tell you how many teachers at my school wondered why they'd never been told "thank you" or "good job" by one of the administrators in the building.
I'm not going to argue that teachers never receive thanks (or always deserve thanks), and I'm not even sure that their job is any more thankless than the average person's, but it's pretty clear to me that quite a few teachers feel slighted. And I think that's important to take into account when we analyze and propose policies. It's awfully easy for somebody who's removed from the day-to-day stresses of teaching to criticize or blame teachers for the ills of society, but even if they're right I'm not sure how productive that sentiment is.
Regardless of whether you believe teachers to be overly defensive, they're not irrational and they are human beings -- and we in the policy world should treat them as such.
I'll step off my soapbox now and move on to other things -- I have 634 unread ed policy blog posts queued up in my google reader, so I'll have plenty of thoughts on those over the next week or so.
Says one reader (gregoryjohn):
As a Metro teacher, I just received an email from Dr. Register (the superintendent) about the results. There is a line in the email that pretty much sums up the problems at most schools. It says for teachers to "support your principal." No where in the email does it mention that teachers need to be supported by the district or their principal. I can tell you that not once did my principal say thank you for the work I do. Instead, at our last meeting of the year, she told us that we need to step up and do more. I spent $3,000 of my own money, 50 or 60 hours a week working and planning and tutoring my students so that the kids in 2nd grade could go from reading 10 words a minute to reading 90 words a minute and I need to give more? How about the district support those of us doing the work instead of standing in our way?
And another (Lforcommunity) in response:
Even Connie Smith's (a district administrator) own words leave out the personnel who work with the students...."the switch to data-driven decisions in curricula, improved communication and a sense of urgency." What about the work of the teachers and students, or don't they count?
I heard similar reactions when test scores shot up one year in NYC -- the chancellor's office rejoiced that their new initiatives were working while teachers wondered if they shouldn't receive the credit. And I can't tell you how many teachers at my school wondered why they'd never been told "thank you" or "good job" by one of the administrators in the building.
I'm not going to argue that teachers never receive thanks (or always deserve thanks), and I'm not even sure that their job is any more thankless than the average person's, but it's pretty clear to me that quite a few teachers feel slighted. And I think that's important to take into account when we analyze and propose policies. It's awfully easy for somebody who's removed from the day-to-day stresses of teaching to criticize or blame teachers for the ills of society, but even if they're right I'm not sure how productive that sentiment is.
Regardless of whether you believe teachers to be overly defensive, they're not irrational and they are human beings -- and we in the policy world should treat them as such.
I'll step off my soapbox now and move on to other things -- I have 634 unread ed policy blog posts queued up in my google reader, so I'll have plenty of thoughts on those over the next week or so.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Is there such a thing as a "Bad Teacher" or "Good Teacher?"
An awful lot is made these days about the need for high-quality teachers in our schools. And I agree: we need good teachers in our schools. But I'm not sure that "good teacher" really means anything -- and the same goes for "bad teacher."
Kevin Carey wrote earlier about recent findings that value-added measures are inconsistent and identify the same teachers as very good or very bad depending on the year or test on which they're based. This means at least one of the following two things:
1.) The tests aren't very precise at measuring student growth
2.) The amount of student growth under the same teacher varies in different years
Let's focus on number two. If the same teacher can get good test scores one year and bad the next (or vice-versa) it may be the case that their level of success depends on many things besides their teaching ability. In other words, the particular kids they have, the dynamics of the class, the dynamics of the school, the teacher's personal life, the subject matter, the weather, and who knows what else may affect the quality of a teacher in any given year.
This makes sense to me. I'm good at teaching kids how to swim faster; I'm not good at teaching them how to dance. I can teach 6th graders about gravity, but I'd be an awful AP Physics teacher. It's easy to see that being a good teacher for one subject or age group does not mean that you'll be a good teacher for another subject or age group. And it makes perfect sense that somebody could be a good teacher for Class A and not for Class B -- or in School A but not in School B. I'd argue that teaching different subjects in different schools across different age groups requires very different skills (not to mention different areas of expertise).
In other words, it's likely that a teacher's success in a particular classroom is due at least as much to contextual conditions as it is to any innate ability. When declaring that a teacher is "good" or "bad" we should take these things into account.
Bottom line: finding the best fit for a teacher may be easier than simply trying to find the best teacher.
Kevin Carey wrote earlier about recent findings that value-added measures are inconsistent and identify the same teachers as very good or very bad depending on the year or test on which they're based. This means at least one of the following two things:
1.) The tests aren't very precise at measuring student growth
2.) The amount of student growth under the same teacher varies in different years
Let's focus on number two. If the same teacher can get good test scores one year and bad the next (or vice-versa) it may be the case that their level of success depends on many things besides their teaching ability. In other words, the particular kids they have, the dynamics of the class, the dynamics of the school, the teacher's personal life, the subject matter, the weather, and who knows what else may affect the quality of a teacher in any given year.
This makes sense to me. I'm good at teaching kids how to swim faster; I'm not good at teaching them how to dance. I can teach 6th graders about gravity, but I'd be an awful AP Physics teacher. It's easy to see that being a good teacher for one subject or age group does not mean that you'll be a good teacher for another subject or age group. And it makes perfect sense that somebody could be a good teacher for Class A and not for Class B -- or in School A but not in School B. I'd argue that teaching different subjects in different schools across different age groups requires very different skills (not to mention different areas of expertise).
In other words, it's likely that a teacher's success in a particular classroom is due at least as much to contextual conditions as it is to any innate ability. When declaring that a teacher is "good" or "bad" we should take these things into account.
Bottom line: finding the best fit for a teacher may be easier than simply trying to find the best teacher.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
What to do about Teacher Certification?
Teacher certification seems to be a hot-button issue, and a couple of recent pieces have had me thinking about it this past weekend: Eduwonkette's post on Richard Ingersoll's work and Nicholas Kristof's op-ed advocating less rigid teacher certification requirements.
A growing number of people seem to advocate against teacher certification, or at least against the rigid requirements that are often in place. And research offers quite a bit of support for this position; quite a bit of evidence exists that certified teachers do no better or only slightly better than uncertified ones. Furthermore, I don't think anybody doubts that certification requirements are a barrier to entry; that is, that they prevent some people from becoming a teacher.
So it's quite logical to advocate that we get rid of (or at least significantly reduce) requirements; they don't seem to be doing much, and we would likely have a wider field of people from which to choose. Such a position is eminently logical -- and probably wouldn't do much, if any, harm -- but it rests on two faulty assumptions.
First of all, it assumes that anybody who is smart and willing to work hard will be a good teacher. Any regular reader of this blog knows that I rarely take strong positions on things since the world is rarely so cut and dried. But few positions in education irk me as much this one. If you believe that anybody who is smart and works hard will be a good teacher, you are wrong. Let me repeat that. If you believe that anybody who is smart and works hard will be a good teacher, you are wrong.
The world simply does not work that way. What makes a good teacher? Nobody has been able to quantify this, but it certainly involves more than knowledge and work ethic. Take colleges as an example: virtually all courses are taught by an expert in that field and an awful lot of these people have a pretty strong work ethic, but how many are great teachers? In other words, how many brilliant professors are also awful teachers? A lot. And the same is true at all levels. You can know everything and work your butt off, but that doesn't guarantee you'll be a good teacher. Teaching is an art, and it simply doesn't work that way. This is not to say, of course, that intelligence, knowledge, and a strong work ethic aren't qualities we want in teachers -- simply that those qualities alone guarantee nothing about the ability of a person to teach well.
Secondly, those opposed to certification requirements assume that certification programs cannot help people. This is false. Oftentimes, they are not helping people. And there's a large gap between cannot and are not. In other words, the fact that a certification program is not working leaves us with two options: ending that program or improving it so that it does work.
Why do I say that these two are underlying assumptions of this position? Let's play fill in the blanks: People who are smart and work hard ______ good teachers, and teacher certification programs _______ help people become good teachers. Therefore, teacher certification requirements should ___________.
Option A:
People who are smart and work hard are good teachers, and teacher certification programs do not help people become good teachers. Therefore, teacher certification requirements should be eliminated or drastically reduced.
Option B:
People who are smart and work hard only sometimes make good teachers, and teacher certification programs aren't doing enough to help people become good teachers. Therefore, teacher certification requirements should do more to help people become better teachers.
You're welcome to fill it in your own way since there are always more than two options.
A few other notes:
1.) Be wary of research showing that certified teachers perform no better. The comparison groups in some of these studies aren't equal. Particularly with programs like Teach For America, the people in the uncertified group are quite different from those in the certified group. In other words, the fact that one group is certified and one isn't are not the main differences between those two groups.
Imagine a study of major league baseball players, including some who went straight to pro ball from high school and some who played in college before going to the pros. Let's say that we find no difference in batting average, home runs, etc. between the two groups and conclude that playing college baseball does nothing to enhance one's ability and, therefore, that there's no reason to play in college. We have two large problems with this conclusion. 1.) The top high school stars usually get large bonuses and forgo college -- meaning that the group of players who went straight from HS to the pros had better natural talent, or at least that their talent blossomed earlier. 2.) Success in baseball isn't only about hitting home runs or striking out batters -- just like success in teaching isn't only about raising test scores. It's entirely possible that those who went to college are better at sacrifice bunts or less likely to get arrested, etc. And those variables are going to be left out of the study b/c they're difficult and time-consuming to measure. They're what some economists like to call "unobservables" (despite the fact that they can be observed -- but that's a different pet peeve for a different time).
In this analogy, those who are coming in through other ways have more natural talent -- and the fact that certified teachers are doing just as well, if not better, might mean actually mean that certification contributes more than we think.
2.) But, wait, isn't the idea that those who are coming in through alternate routes have more natural talent an argument for getting rid of certification? Yes, it is. In case you thought I was making an argument for more rigid teacher certification requirements, I'm not. My goal was more to point out that the situation is not as simple and straightforward as it might seem. There are advantages and disadvantages to both sides of this issue. And I'm annoyed with people who oversimplify from either end -- it's just that right now more people are oversimplifying from the side that teacher certification is bad.
That said, let me make one last point. Even if alternative routes to certification attract more talented people it doesn't necessarily mean that getting rid of certification is the answer. Certification affects more than just who enters the field -- it also affects who remains in the field. A lot of alt cert people (myself included) exit the field rather rapidly. It's entirely possible that having no certification requirements would lead to an increasingly transitory teaching force -- which could have all sorts of negative effects.
There's more to cover on this topic, but that's enough for now
A growing number of people seem to advocate against teacher certification, or at least against the rigid requirements that are often in place. And research offers quite a bit of support for this position; quite a bit of evidence exists that certified teachers do no better or only slightly better than uncertified ones. Furthermore, I don't think anybody doubts that certification requirements are a barrier to entry; that is, that they prevent some people from becoming a teacher.
So it's quite logical to advocate that we get rid of (or at least significantly reduce) requirements; they don't seem to be doing much, and we would likely have a wider field of people from which to choose. Such a position is eminently logical -- and probably wouldn't do much, if any, harm -- but it rests on two faulty assumptions.
First of all, it assumes that anybody who is smart and willing to work hard will be a good teacher. Any regular reader of this blog knows that I rarely take strong positions on things since the world is rarely so cut and dried. But few positions in education irk me as much this one. If you believe that anybody who is smart and works hard will be a good teacher, you are wrong. Let me repeat that. If you believe that anybody who is smart and works hard will be a good teacher, you are wrong.
The world simply does not work that way. What makes a good teacher? Nobody has been able to quantify this, but it certainly involves more than knowledge and work ethic. Take colleges as an example: virtually all courses are taught by an expert in that field and an awful lot of these people have a pretty strong work ethic, but how many are great teachers? In other words, how many brilliant professors are also awful teachers? A lot. And the same is true at all levels. You can know everything and work your butt off, but that doesn't guarantee you'll be a good teacher. Teaching is an art, and it simply doesn't work that way. This is not to say, of course, that intelligence, knowledge, and a strong work ethic aren't qualities we want in teachers -- simply that those qualities alone guarantee nothing about the ability of a person to teach well.
Secondly, those opposed to certification requirements assume that certification programs cannot help people. This is false. Oftentimes, they are not helping people. And there's a large gap between cannot and are not. In other words, the fact that a certification program is not working leaves us with two options: ending that program or improving it so that it does work.
Why do I say that these two are underlying assumptions of this position? Let's play fill in the blanks: People who are smart and work hard ______ good teachers, and teacher certification programs _______ help people become good teachers. Therefore, teacher certification requirements should ___________.
Option A:
People who are smart and work hard are good teachers, and teacher certification programs do not help people become good teachers. Therefore, teacher certification requirements should be eliminated or drastically reduced.
Option B:
People who are smart and work hard only sometimes make good teachers, and teacher certification programs aren't doing enough to help people become good teachers. Therefore, teacher certification requirements should do more to help people become better teachers.
You're welcome to fill it in your own way since there are always more than two options.
A few other notes:
1.) Be wary of research showing that certified teachers perform no better. The comparison groups in some of these studies aren't equal. Particularly with programs like Teach For America, the people in the uncertified group are quite different from those in the certified group. In other words, the fact that one group is certified and one isn't are not the main differences between those two groups.
Imagine a study of major league baseball players, including some who went straight to pro ball from high school and some who played in college before going to the pros. Let's say that we find no difference in batting average, home runs, etc. between the two groups and conclude that playing college baseball does nothing to enhance one's ability and, therefore, that there's no reason to play in college. We have two large problems with this conclusion. 1.) The top high school stars usually get large bonuses and forgo college -- meaning that the group of players who went straight from HS to the pros had better natural talent, or at least that their talent blossomed earlier. 2.) Success in baseball isn't only about hitting home runs or striking out batters -- just like success in teaching isn't only about raising test scores. It's entirely possible that those who went to college are better at sacrifice bunts or less likely to get arrested, etc. And those variables are going to be left out of the study b/c they're difficult and time-consuming to measure. They're what some economists like to call "unobservables" (despite the fact that they can be observed -- but that's a different pet peeve for a different time).
In this analogy, those who are coming in through other ways have more natural talent -- and the fact that certified teachers are doing just as well, if not better, might mean actually mean that certification contributes more than we think.
2.) But, wait, isn't the idea that those who are coming in through alternate routes have more natural talent an argument for getting rid of certification? Yes, it is. In case you thought I was making an argument for more rigid teacher certification requirements, I'm not. My goal was more to point out that the situation is not as simple and straightforward as it might seem. There are advantages and disadvantages to both sides of this issue. And I'm annoyed with people who oversimplify from either end -- it's just that right now more people are oversimplifying from the side that teacher certification is bad.
That said, let me make one last point. Even if alternative routes to certification attract more talented people it doesn't necessarily mean that getting rid of certification is the answer. Certification affects more than just who enters the field -- it also affects who remains in the field. A lot of alt cert people (myself included) exit the field rather rapidly. It's entirely possible that having no certification requirements would lead to an increasingly transitory teaching force -- which could have all sorts of negative effects.
There's more to cover on this topic, but that's enough for now
Sunday, October 26, 2008
The Biggest Problem with Schools: Tradition
I've finally found something with which every single education reformer can agree: the biggest problem facing our schools today is tradition. We do so many things for no other reason than because that's the way they were done in the past.
Why should everybody agree with this? Below is a list of various solutions that people push and how tradition keeps them from happening:
School Choice
Every neighborhood has, traditionally, had its own school. The neighborhood builds, maintains, and governs these schools for the use of locals -- not for the use of people from other neighborhoods -- and is used to spending their money on their schools; not on sending children to other people's schools.
Smaller Classes
Classes have, traditionally, been somewhere between 20-40 kids. Classrooms are built for classes this size.
Longer School Year
Traditionally, schools have taken the summer off to allow people to move to different places (not to harvest crops -- that's a myth) and then have everybody start fresh, at the same level, when September rolls around. Summer camps, swim team, family vacation, etc. are all scheduled for the summer when school's out.
A More Progressive Pedagogy
Traditionally, the teacher has been the "sage on the stage" and run a mini dictatorship in the their classroom. In other words: teachers teach the way they were taught, not the way they were taught to teach.
Smaller Schools
Traditionally, schools have housed all of the students from a certain region. Those regions coalesce around their schools to attend school plays, high school football games, etc. In some places, very little property is available where another school could open.
Banish Unions
Traditionally, teachers in many places have belonged to unions. The current contracts have been negotiated by unions. Unions have influenced the salary schedule, work rules, seniority, etc.
Recruit/Retain Better Teachers
Traditionally, most teachers have been females who had few better career options. Now that the most successful female students can enter just about any field, the teaching field continues to attract and retain people who don't feel they or rather would not pursue employment in other fields.
I could go on and on, but I think those are most of the major reform ideas floating around right now. In each case, the biggest hindrance to the idea's implementation is tradition. Still unconvinced? Here are a few other examples of ways in which tradition influences decisions:
-College professors assign hundreds of pages of reading each week, not because it's the best pedagogy but because that's what they did when they were college students.
-Grad schools assign comprehensive exams, not necessarily b/c it helps the students in any particular way but b/c the people in charge all had to take comprehensive exams when they were in grad school.
-Report cards are sent home each semester with letter or number grades (which are virtually identical across schools), not because this necessarily serves a purpose, but b/c that's the way it's always been done.
-Teachers at all levels often use textbooks as the main way to educate their class -- certainly not because textbooks are always fantastic but, rather, b/c that's the way people have always done it.
Ok, that's enough. None of those things are necessarily bad in and of themselves, but ask yourself this: if you were starting a school from scratch -- blank slate, you can do anything you want -- how many of those would you want done in the same way they are now? And you're not allowed to use the phrase "when I was in school" in your justification.
The point is this: people are comfortable doing things the way they've always been done. But we can't eliminate either tradition or human nature, so what's the solution? I don't know exactly, but here are some things to think about:
First of all, I guarantee you that none of those ideas, alone, are a silver bullet -- and everybody needs to come to grips with that. Let me repeat: there is no silver bullet. No one idea is going to magically transform our schools. As such, it's not worth losing your temper when your pet reform meets some opposition.
With that said, I think we also need to realize that a great deal of the opposition to the ideas we know will magically transform the schools comes from human nature, not ill will. Not everybody who doesn't implement your reform is a bad person. I have a lot of pet peeves around education reform, but I'll tell you my top one: when reformers blame the people in place for not implementing their reform correctly.
Time after time we see studies of education reform done and almost all of them find either no changes to results or very small ones. At this finding the people who were sure that the reform would work work become indignant -- "the curriculum is solid, but the teachers just kept teaching the way they've always taught" or some such complaint. In other words, "if they just would've done things exactly as I wanted them done . . ."
Well, let me give you hint: nobody will ever do things exactly the way that you want them done. And they certainly won't do them that way if you simply go in and demand that they be done that way. Too many people forget to factor in whether the people they're trying to change a.) want to do things that way and b.) know how to do things that way. In this case, if the teachers didn't want to and/or know how to implement the curriculum correctly, it is a failure of your reform. Part of the job of a reformer or policymaker is to take into account how people will respond to the new policy/reform. Things don't always work out as planned, and when that happens you can chalk it up to human nature on the part of the reformees and lack of understanding of human nature on the part of the reformers.
So, in short, the first step to overcoming the limitations that tradition is placing on our school is this: understand that tradition that's holding us back. Then try and find a way to change tradition. And remember, changing a tradition is hard.
Why should everybody agree with this? Below is a list of various solutions that people push and how tradition keeps them from happening:
School Choice
Every neighborhood has, traditionally, had its own school. The neighborhood builds, maintains, and governs these schools for the use of locals -- not for the use of people from other neighborhoods -- and is used to spending their money on their schools; not on sending children to other people's schools.
Smaller Classes
Classes have, traditionally, been somewhere between 20-40 kids. Classrooms are built for classes this size.
Longer School Year
Traditionally, schools have taken the summer off to allow people to move to different places (not to harvest crops -- that's a myth) and then have everybody start fresh, at the same level, when September rolls around. Summer camps, swim team, family vacation, etc. are all scheduled for the summer when school's out.
A More Progressive Pedagogy
Traditionally, the teacher has been the "sage on the stage" and run a mini dictatorship in the their classroom. In other words: teachers teach the way they were taught, not the way they were taught to teach.
Smaller Schools
Traditionally, schools have housed all of the students from a certain region. Those regions coalesce around their schools to attend school plays, high school football games, etc. In some places, very little property is available where another school could open.
Banish Unions
Traditionally, teachers in many places have belonged to unions. The current contracts have been negotiated by unions. Unions have influenced the salary schedule, work rules, seniority, etc.
Recruit/Retain Better Teachers
Traditionally, most teachers have been females who had few better career options. Now that the most successful female students can enter just about any field, the teaching field continues to attract and retain people who don't feel they or rather would not pursue employment in other fields.
I could go on and on, but I think those are most of the major reform ideas floating around right now. In each case, the biggest hindrance to the idea's implementation is tradition. Still unconvinced? Here are a few other examples of ways in which tradition influences decisions:
-College professors assign hundreds of pages of reading each week, not because it's the best pedagogy but because that's what they did when they were college students.
-Grad schools assign comprehensive exams, not necessarily b/c it helps the students in any particular way but b/c the people in charge all had to take comprehensive exams when they were in grad school.
-Report cards are sent home each semester with letter or number grades (which are virtually identical across schools), not because this necessarily serves a purpose, but b/c that's the way it's always been done.
-Teachers at all levels often use textbooks as the main way to educate their class -- certainly not because textbooks are always fantastic but, rather, b/c that's the way people have always done it.
Ok, that's enough. None of those things are necessarily bad in and of themselves, but ask yourself this: if you were starting a school from scratch -- blank slate, you can do anything you want -- how many of those would you want done in the same way they are now? And you're not allowed to use the phrase "when I was in school" in your justification.
The point is this: people are comfortable doing things the way they've always been done. But we can't eliminate either tradition or human nature, so what's the solution? I don't know exactly, but here are some things to think about:
First of all, I guarantee you that none of those ideas, alone, are a silver bullet -- and everybody needs to come to grips with that. Let me repeat: there is no silver bullet. No one idea is going to magically transform our schools. As such, it's not worth losing your temper when your pet reform meets some opposition.
With that said, I think we also need to realize that a great deal of the opposition to the ideas we know will magically transform the schools comes from human nature, not ill will. Not everybody who doesn't implement your reform is a bad person. I have a lot of pet peeves around education reform, but I'll tell you my top one: when reformers blame the people in place for not implementing their reform correctly.
Time after time we see studies of education reform done and almost all of them find either no changes to results or very small ones. At this finding the people who were sure that the reform would work work become indignant -- "the curriculum is solid, but the teachers just kept teaching the way they've always taught" or some such complaint. In other words, "if they just would've done things exactly as I wanted them done . . ."
Well, let me give you hint: nobody will ever do things exactly the way that you want them done. And they certainly won't do them that way if you simply go in and demand that they be done that way. Too many people forget to factor in whether the people they're trying to change a.) want to do things that way and b.) know how to do things that way. In this case, if the teachers didn't want to and/or know how to implement the curriculum correctly, it is a failure of your reform. Part of the job of a reformer or policymaker is to take into account how people will respond to the new policy/reform. Things don't always work out as planned, and when that happens you can chalk it up to human nature on the part of the reformees and lack of understanding of human nature on the part of the reformers.
So, in short, the first step to overcoming the limitations that tradition is placing on our school is this: understand that tradition that's holding us back. Then try and find a way to change tradition. And remember, changing a tradition is hard.
Wednesday, July 9, 2008
Why Do Teachers Get so Defensive?
I read Liam Julian's post "The Martyrs" right before the holiday (yes, I'm a little behind). Though needlessly flippant and condescending, he asks an interesting question: why are teachers so defensive when criticized?
He, specifically, is upset at teachers who dismiss the opinions of others by pointing out that they've never taught (as some teachers recently did to him) and argues that the idea that only teachers can judge other teachers is a logical fallacy. He makes a valid point; it is possible to recognize excellent or poor teaching (and, for that matter, good and bad ideas for a school) without having ever taught.
That said, I'm not sure he really gets to the heart of the issue. Simply saying that a teacher is wrong when they make that argument is at least as unproductive as a teacher making that argument in the first place.
In other words, let's try to find an answer to the question "Why do teachers get so defensive?" other than "they're wrong, so who cares."
I was quite critical of teachers before I started teaching. But now, with the exception of those few who are both truly awful and don't care, I hesitate a bit before I lash out. And I wince about when I hear others lash out.
Why?
In my experience, teaching is a very personal pursuit. It requires a lot of an individual. Many people who go into teaching devote more than just time and energy into their teaching -- it's more than just a job to them. It's also much more difficult and nuanced than it looks. I was pretty cocky before I started teaching -- I was convinced that I could sweep in and change the world. And then I discovered about a million things that I never would have anticipated.
I think these two things make teachers quite jumpy when they are criticized. I used to deliver newspapers when I was younger. If somebody had told me I was a bad newspaper boy, I wouldn't have been particularly happy; but it wouldn't have been the end of the world. I simply placed newspapers inside of doors after school and then went back home -- it was something that I did to earn some cash to buy candy and other cool (and worthwhile) stuff rather than a part of my identity.
For many teachers, however, their job is personal. And criticism of the way they do their jobs is seen as criticism of them as people. And nobody takes kindly to that.
Perhaps more important is that anybody who has taught knows that there's more to it than it looks like. When people from the outside criticize teachers, I think it's quite logical to point out that that they don't know the full story. It's a heck of a lot easier to point out what a teacher is doing incorrectly than to actually do it correctly. That doesn't mean that somebody who has never taught can't recognize good teaching and bad teaching, but that their understanding of why a teacher is doing something or what they should do differently lacks nuance.
Lastly, I think there is a mismatch in expectations and rewards for teachers. I'm not sure if the members of any other occupation have such high expectations placed upon them by the public. Your dentist doesn't make the newspaper if they post a picture of themselves in a bikini on their myspace page. Your accountant isn't shunned on the local news if they have a sex-change operation. Teachers are expected to be role models and to conduct themselves with dignity at all times. And yet, teachers may also be criticized more than any other sector of society. In other words, teachers are expected to be perfect, but are treated as second-class citizens in a number of respects.
When somebody pours their heart and sole into a difficult job that commands little respect it shouldn't surprise us when they bristle at criticism.
He, specifically, is upset at teachers who dismiss the opinions of others by pointing out that they've never taught (as some teachers recently did to him) and argues that the idea that only teachers can judge other teachers is a logical fallacy. He makes a valid point; it is possible to recognize excellent or poor teaching (and, for that matter, good and bad ideas for a school) without having ever taught.
That said, I'm not sure he really gets to the heart of the issue. Simply saying that a teacher is wrong when they make that argument is at least as unproductive as a teacher making that argument in the first place.
In other words, let's try to find an answer to the question "Why do teachers get so defensive?" other than "they're wrong, so who cares."
I was quite critical of teachers before I started teaching. But now, with the exception of those few who are both truly awful and don't care, I hesitate a bit before I lash out. And I wince about when I hear others lash out.
Why?
In my experience, teaching is a very personal pursuit. It requires a lot of an individual. Many people who go into teaching devote more than just time and energy into their teaching -- it's more than just a job to them. It's also much more difficult and nuanced than it looks. I was pretty cocky before I started teaching -- I was convinced that I could sweep in and change the world. And then I discovered about a million things that I never would have anticipated.
I think these two things make teachers quite jumpy when they are criticized. I used to deliver newspapers when I was younger. If somebody had told me I was a bad newspaper boy, I wouldn't have been particularly happy; but it wouldn't have been the end of the world. I simply placed newspapers inside of doors after school and then went back home -- it was something that I did to earn some cash to buy candy and other cool (and worthwhile) stuff rather than a part of my identity.
For many teachers, however, their job is personal. And criticism of the way they do their jobs is seen as criticism of them as people. And nobody takes kindly to that.
Perhaps more important is that anybody who has taught knows that there's more to it than it looks like. When people from the outside criticize teachers, I think it's quite logical to point out that that they don't know the full story. It's a heck of a lot easier to point out what a teacher is doing incorrectly than to actually do it correctly. That doesn't mean that somebody who has never taught can't recognize good teaching and bad teaching, but that their understanding of why a teacher is doing something or what they should do differently lacks nuance.
Lastly, I think there is a mismatch in expectations and rewards for teachers. I'm not sure if the members of any other occupation have such high expectations placed upon them by the public. Your dentist doesn't make the newspaper if they post a picture of themselves in a bikini on their myspace page. Your accountant isn't shunned on the local news if they have a sex-change operation. Teachers are expected to be role models and to conduct themselves with dignity at all times. And yet, teachers may also be criticized more than any other sector of society. In other words, teachers are expected to be perfect, but are treated as second-class citizens in a number of respects.
When somebody pours their heart and sole into a difficult job that commands little respect it shouldn't surprise us when they bristle at criticism.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
How Small is Small Enough?
I'm short on time today, so I'm allowing Mike Petrilli to do my thinking for me. He asks a very good question:
"Will teachers ever think their classes are small enough?" (to which his answer is "Doubtful.")
When I was teaching, my classes ranged from 23-29 students over the course of the year (due to student mobility). And, yes, I thought they were too large -- if for no other reason than because it was quite difficult to effectively monitor that many students at the same time. I was pretty convinced that my classes would have been fundamentally different if I had 10-15 students.
I don't know of any feasible way to fund a 50% reduction in class size, but let's say it happened. If I were teaching a class of, say, 13 students would I think that my class was small enough? I'm not sure what the answer to that question is. I have little doubt that I could teach 13 students more effectively than 26, but I also have little doubt that I could teach 6 or 7 students more effectively than 13 -- so I'm not sure I'd have a strong incentive to think my classes were small enough even with only 13 students. Even if I had two students, I'm not sure that I would say that my class was small enough because I might be able to do a lot more good with only one of the students at a time.
So maybe he's right, maybe teachers would never say that classes were small enough.
But maybe that's not quite the right question. I can't imagine not wishing for fewer students in my class, but I can imagine thinking that other policy ideas would do more good than reducing class sizes. Let's say, for example, that somebody provided me a list of 10 reforms and asked me to rank them in order of which reforms might do the most amount of good. I could imagine "reducing class size" falling down that list as the size of my class shrunk.
Then again, my perception of the size of my class would probably rely largely on the size of other classes that I saw and experienced. If I had 13 students and the average class size in the country was 8, I'd probably still complain.
Anyway, enough rambling. Back to the question. At what point would class sizes be small enough?
"Will teachers ever think their classes are small enough?" (to which his answer is "Doubtful.")
When I was teaching, my classes ranged from 23-29 students over the course of the year (due to student mobility). And, yes, I thought they were too large -- if for no other reason than because it was quite difficult to effectively monitor that many students at the same time. I was pretty convinced that my classes would have been fundamentally different if I had 10-15 students.
I don't know of any feasible way to fund a 50% reduction in class size, but let's say it happened. If I were teaching a class of, say, 13 students would I think that my class was small enough? I'm not sure what the answer to that question is. I have little doubt that I could teach 13 students more effectively than 26, but I also have little doubt that I could teach 6 or 7 students more effectively than 13 -- so I'm not sure I'd have a strong incentive to think my classes were small enough even with only 13 students. Even if I had two students, I'm not sure that I would say that my class was small enough because I might be able to do a lot more good with only one of the students at a time.
So maybe he's right, maybe teachers would never say that classes were small enough.
But maybe that's not quite the right question. I can't imagine not wishing for fewer students in my class, but I can imagine thinking that other policy ideas would do more good than reducing class sizes. Let's say, for example, that somebody provided me a list of 10 reforms and asked me to rank them in order of which reforms might do the most amount of good. I could imagine "reducing class size" falling down that list as the size of my class shrunk.
Then again, my perception of the size of my class would probably rely largely on the size of other classes that I saw and experienced. If I had 13 students and the average class size in the country was 8, I'd probably still complain.
Anyway, enough rambling. Back to the question. At what point would class sizes be small enough?
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Teaching and Barriers to Entry
Depending on whom you ask, there may or may not be a teacher shortage. I think everybody would agree, however, that there is a shortage of quality teachers and that there are certain positions that go unfilled each year. My school, for example, was short 2 science teachers, a special ed. teacher, and a Spanish teacher my second year -- and a Chorus teacher (after the original teacher and her replacement both quit in the first two months) for most of the year during the second year I taught.
So, in some way, shape, or form, more teachers are needed. What's interesting is how this problem has been addressed. A variety of strategies have been tried: bonuses, fellowships, cutting red tape on hiring, etc. But the most prevalent one seems to be simply lowering the barriers to entry. In other words, making it easier to become a teacher.
I, personally, would not have started teaching if the policy hadn't been in place. Even though I had no training in education, I was allowed to spend one intense summer (supposedly) learning the basics and then jump right into a classroom. Teach For America, The New Teacher Project, and who knows how many other local, regional, and national programs have popped up as alternative routes to certification.
Regardless of whether you agree or disagree with this strategy, you have to admit that it's interesting. And I wonder what it says about the field of teaching. What if we had a shortage of doctors; would we address that by lowering barriers to entry? I can't imagine we would b/c nobody wants a doctor operating on them who is smart but knows little about the human body. What if there was a shortage of lawyers; would we shorten law school? If we had a shortage of bus drivers, would we let them finish the training courses while driving routes full-time? If we had a shortage of police officers, would we give people temporary badges while they figure out how to do their job?
I don't know the answers to above questions. I guess people used to be temporarily deputized in order to form posses to track outlaws in the old days (at least in books and movies anyway), so maybe there is some precedent for this. But I wonder which fields we'd be willing to lower entry requirements for and which we wouldn't. And why.
So, in some way, shape, or form, more teachers are needed. What's interesting is how this problem has been addressed. A variety of strategies have been tried: bonuses, fellowships, cutting red tape on hiring, etc. But the most prevalent one seems to be simply lowering the barriers to entry. In other words, making it easier to become a teacher.
I, personally, would not have started teaching if the policy hadn't been in place. Even though I had no training in education, I was allowed to spend one intense summer (supposedly) learning the basics and then jump right into a classroom. Teach For America, The New Teacher Project, and who knows how many other local, regional, and national programs have popped up as alternative routes to certification.
Regardless of whether you agree or disagree with this strategy, you have to admit that it's interesting. And I wonder what it says about the field of teaching. What if we had a shortage of doctors; would we address that by lowering barriers to entry? I can't imagine we would b/c nobody wants a doctor operating on them who is smart but knows little about the human body. What if there was a shortage of lawyers; would we shorten law school? If we had a shortage of bus drivers, would we let them finish the training courses while driving routes full-time? If we had a shortage of police officers, would we give people temporary badges while they figure out how to do their job?
I don't know the answers to above questions. I guess people used to be temporarily deputized in order to form posses to track outlaws in the old days (at least in books and movies anyway), so maybe there is some precedent for this. But I wonder which fields we'd be willing to lower entry requirements for and which we wouldn't. And why.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Someone Asked What Teachers Think?
As a former teacher, it is my personal bias that teachers are not frequently enough included in the policy-making process. It seems like we often analyze everything except for what teachers think. Meanwhile, it seems like an awful lot of reforms fail b/c teachers don't adopt them.
Well, a team from Education Sector just released the results of a national teacher survey. More than one blog post will be devoted to this, but for this one I'd like to look at the opinion questions that resulted in the most lopsided responses (>70% agreeing with one side). For the sake of brevity, I'll summarize each question, but I'll put the actual number from the survey next to it and you can read the full question from the report if you want more information (and let me know if my summary is unfair).
-81% of teachers agree that negative press coverage prevents the most talented people from entering teaching (9)
-80% agree that teachers are "rarely consulted about what happens in their school" (6)
-86% agree that teachers are required to do too much paperwork
-85% say that more prep and planning time is a good or excellent idea to help recruit better teachers into the field (14)
-78% of teachers say the same about easing rules on coming out of retirement (15)
-71% say that offering "substantially higher starting salaries in exchange for smaller pensions when they retire" is only a fair or poor idea for helping to recruit better teachers (16)
-80% strongly or somewhat favor giving "Teachers who work in tough neighborhoods with low-performing schools" financial incentives (23)
-79% said the unionization of the teaching force was not a consideration in choosing a career (37)
-84% say the same about the considerable job protection in teaching (38)
-75% agree that "Teachers facing unfair charges from parents or students would have nowhere to turn without the union" (46)
-75% agree that "Without collective bargaining, the working conditions and salaries of teachers would be much worse" (48)
-77% agree that "Without a union, teachers would be vulnerable to school politics or administrators who abuse their power" (49)
-76% say that unions "Effectively negotiate contracts, salary, and benefits on behalf of teachers"(54A)
-84% say that unions "Protect teachers through due process and grievance procedures" (57A)
-79% say that unions "Regularly inform teachers about their benefits, rights, and responsibilities" (60A)
More on this later but, at first glance, it appears that teachers think that:
1. they aren't given enough respect
2. their time isn't allocated in the best way possible
3. unions are doing some good things
Well, a team from Education Sector just released the results of a national teacher survey. More than one blog post will be devoted to this, but for this one I'd like to look at the opinion questions that resulted in the most lopsided responses (>70% agreeing with one side). For the sake of brevity, I'll summarize each question, but I'll put the actual number from the survey next to it and you can read the full question from the report if you want more information (and let me know if my summary is unfair).
-81% of teachers agree that negative press coverage prevents the most talented people from entering teaching (9)
-80% agree that teachers are "rarely consulted about what happens in their school" (6)
-86% agree that teachers are required to do too much paperwork
-85% say that more prep and planning time is a good or excellent idea to help recruit better teachers into the field (14)
-78% of teachers say the same about easing rules on coming out of retirement (15)
-71% say that offering "substantially higher starting salaries in exchange for smaller pensions when they retire" is only a fair or poor idea for helping to recruit better teachers (16)
-80% strongly or somewhat favor giving "Teachers who work in tough neighborhoods with low-performing schools" financial incentives (23)
-79% said the unionization of the teaching force was not a consideration in choosing a career (37)
-84% say the same about the considerable job protection in teaching (38)
-75% agree that "Teachers facing unfair charges from parents or students would have nowhere to turn without the union" (46)
-75% agree that "Without collective bargaining, the working conditions and salaries of teachers would be much worse" (48)
-77% agree that "Without a union, teachers would be vulnerable to school politics or administrators who abuse their power" (49)
-76% say that unions "Effectively negotiate contracts, salary, and benefits on behalf of teachers"(54A)
-84% say that unions "Protect teachers through due process and grievance procedures" (57A)
-79% say that unions "Regularly inform teachers about their benefits, rights, and responsibilities" (60A)
More on this later but, at first glance, it appears that teachers think that:
1. they aren't given enough respect
2. their time isn't allocated in the best way possible
3. unions are doing some good things
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Who Should Evaluate Teachers?
A lot of ideas that make sense on paper (especially regarding teacher pay and teacher training) rest on being able to accurately (and fairly) evaluate teachers. This leads to two major questions: who should evaluate teachers and how should they do it?
The how is a more complicated question than I care to address right now, but I've frequently thought about the who last couple years, particularly given the problems I noticed with evaluations while I was teaching. The issue also came up in my last class -- where it was essentially batted around by a lot of former teachers. Based on previous thoughts, current practice, and recent discussion, these seem to be the options:
-An Administrative Supervisor (e.g. Principal or Asst. Principal)
-A Non-Administrative Supervisor (e.g. Dept. Chair)
-Other Teachers
-An Outside Expert (like in Martinique)
-A Mentor or Coach
-Some combination of the above
If you're a teacher (especially if there's a lot riding on the evaluation), you want to be evaluated by somebody who:
1.) Is an expert
2.) Knows you/your teaching well
3.) You can trust to be fair and impartial
The problem is that none of the options (save possibly the last one) meet all three of these criteria.
Administrative supervisors might meet all or none of these criteria depending on the situation. For example: a former English teacher who becomes a principal would not likely be an expert in teaching physics (and vice-versa). Whether your principal knows you well or is trustworthy depends on the circumstances.
I don't think there are many non-administrative supervisors. How many department chairs really count as supervisors? I'm sure exceptions exist, but the question then becomes what responsibilities these people have other than evaluating and if any of these are conflicts of interest.
I'm also not sure that I've ever heard of teachers bearing responsibility for evaluating other teachers (other than faculty making tenure decisions). I think there's some merit to this idea, but the largest problem is that it could negatively affect teacher communities, or at least make them artificial (e.g. people only say good things about themselves).
The outside expert could be both knowledgeable and impartial, but how well will they actually know the teacher?
The mentor or coach may best know your abilities, can they really be an effective source of guidance if they're also in charge of evaluating somebody (e.g. why would somebody come to them with their problems?).
Do we pick what we think is the best of these options, come up with something else, or combine these? Why not have an evaluation committee made up of some people from all walks of life? Imagine a committee made up of some teachers, administrators, and experts who were in charge of evaluating a number of teachers. Would this work? Would this be too cumbersome? Would it be worth it?
The how is a more complicated question than I care to address right now, but I've frequently thought about the who last couple years, particularly given the problems I noticed with evaluations while I was teaching. The issue also came up in my last class -- where it was essentially batted around by a lot of former teachers. Based on previous thoughts, current practice, and recent discussion, these seem to be the options:
-An Administrative Supervisor (e.g. Principal or Asst. Principal)
-A Non-Administrative Supervisor (e.g. Dept. Chair)
-Other Teachers
-An Outside Expert (like in Martinique)
-A Mentor or Coach
-Some combination of the above
If you're a teacher (especially if there's a lot riding on the evaluation), you want to be evaluated by somebody who:
1.) Is an expert
2.) Knows you/your teaching well
3.) You can trust to be fair and impartial
The problem is that none of the options (save possibly the last one) meet all three of these criteria.
Administrative supervisors might meet all or none of these criteria depending on the situation. For example: a former English teacher who becomes a principal would not likely be an expert in teaching physics (and vice-versa). Whether your principal knows you well or is trustworthy depends on the circumstances.
I don't think there are many non-administrative supervisors. How many department chairs really count as supervisors? I'm sure exceptions exist, but the question then becomes what responsibilities these people have other than evaluating and if any of these are conflicts of interest.
I'm also not sure that I've ever heard of teachers bearing responsibility for evaluating other teachers (other than faculty making tenure decisions). I think there's some merit to this idea, but the largest problem is that it could negatively affect teacher communities, or at least make them artificial (e.g. people only say good things about themselves).
The outside expert could be both knowledgeable and impartial, but how well will they actually know the teacher?
The mentor or coach may best know your abilities, can they really be an effective source of guidance if they're also in charge of evaluating somebody (e.g. why would somebody come to them with their problems?).
Do we pick what we think is the best of these options, come up with something else, or combine these? Why not have an evaluation committee made up of some people from all walks of life? Imagine a committee made up of some teachers, administrators, and experts who were in charge of evaluating a number of teachers. Would this work? Would this be too cumbersome? Would it be worth it?
Sunday, March 16, 2008
Teachers in Martinique
On Friday I attended a conference for graduate students at Harvard. The conference was run quite well -- if any grad students are reading I'd encourage you to go and present next year -- and the amenities were quite remarkable given the unbeatable $0 registration fee. I saw a number of interesting presentations, but have been quite busy (I'm now in NYC for another conference) so I'm just going to mention one that I found even more interesting than others.
During the last session of the day Nick Gozik, a student from NYU, spoke about his research (I'm quite sure it's his dissertation) that he conducted in Martinique. Martinique is an island in the Caribbean (somewhat near Venezuela) that was a French colony and their education system is still under the control of France. He spent most of a year on the island and says he spoke with half of the high-school teachers in the system, so you can imagine how much information he collected.
Given that this will take him hundreds of pages to explain, I'm just going to briefly summarize two points I found interesting.
1.) He said that teachers repeatedly emphasized that they followed the curriculum because they were professionals (history teachers identified themselves as "historians," etc.) rather than due to any external forces. The current trend here right now is to essentially punish those who don't follow the curriculum by "holding them accountable." Teachers are different in the two different countries, but I found this contrast fascinating.
2.) Even more interesting is that principals were not responsible for evaluating teachers in their schools because they were not experts in most of the fields (e.g. when a math teacher becomes a principal they do not feel prepared to evaluate a history teacher). Instead, inspectors came to the schools occasionally and both trained and evaluated teachers. I do wonder if this model might actually be better than our current model in the U.S. where principals are essentially expected to both know how and actually do everything. We read an article in a class last week about educational administrators lacking deep knowledge of many subject areas and ways to address this. Our class was divided over whether attempts should be made to intensely train principals in all subjects or if instructional leadership should be ceded to an expert in each field (we were thinking perhaps a revision of the dept. head role, but an outside inspector is another interesting idea).
During the last session of the day Nick Gozik, a student from NYU, spoke about his research (I'm quite sure it's his dissertation) that he conducted in Martinique. Martinique is an island in the Caribbean (somewhat near Venezuela) that was a French colony and their education system is still under the control of France. He spent most of a year on the island and says he spoke with half of the high-school teachers in the system, so you can imagine how much information he collected.
Given that this will take him hundreds of pages to explain, I'm just going to briefly summarize two points I found interesting.
1.) He said that teachers repeatedly emphasized that they followed the curriculum because they were professionals (history teachers identified themselves as "historians," etc.) rather than due to any external forces. The current trend here right now is to essentially punish those who don't follow the curriculum by "holding them accountable." Teachers are different in the two different countries, but I found this contrast fascinating.
2.) Even more interesting is that principals were not responsible for evaluating teachers in their schools because they were not experts in most of the fields (e.g. when a math teacher becomes a principal they do not feel prepared to evaluate a history teacher). Instead, inspectors came to the schools occasionally and both trained and evaluated teachers. I do wonder if this model might actually be better than our current model in the U.S. where principals are essentially expected to both know how and actually do everything. We read an article in a class last week about educational administrators lacking deep knowledge of many subject areas and ways to address this. Our class was divided over whether attempts should be made to intensely train principals in all subjects or if instructional leadership should be ceded to an expert in each field (we were thinking perhaps a revision of the dept. head role, but an outside inspector is another interesting idea).
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
More on Business-Style Management of Education
I offered some thoughts the other day about business-think in schools, and I noticed this post by Diane Ravitch in the blog she shares with Deborah Meier on EdWeek. It's extremely thoughtful, quite short, and very worthwhile reading.
I share her aggravation over the notion that only people who are not involved with schools are able to fix them and that running schools like businesses is the magic bullet. Not that outsiders and business practices can't offer some valuable insight, but I hardly think that they offer all the answers.
I share her aggravation over the notion that only people who are not involved with schools are able to fix them and that running schools like businesses is the magic bullet. Not that outsiders and business practices can't offer some valuable insight, but I hardly think that they offer all the answers.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Who's Asking What Teachers Think?
This piece in EdWeek caught my eye yesterday: Margaret Spellings is recruiting a team of teachers (5 full-time and 20 part-time) to help refine proposals for changes in education policy at the Dept. of Education starting in the fall. Two thoughts:
1. Wow. Seems like a great idea. Though, to be cynical, anybody could find 25 teachers that agree with their favorite policy proposal if they wanted to (I'll give them the benefit of the doubt and assume that's not what they're doing until I hear otherwise).
2. What momentous changes, exactly, is the Bush administration planning on making in his last few months in office? It's great that they have current teachers to comment on the feasibility of their ideas, but it's hard to believe that they'll have time to implement many of their ideas.
1. Wow. Seems like a great idea. Though, to be cynical, anybody could find 25 teachers that agree with their favorite policy proposal if they wanted to (I'll give them the benefit of the doubt and assume that's not what they're doing until I hear otherwise).
2. What momentous changes, exactly, is the Bush administration planning on making in his last few months in office? It's great that they have current teachers to comment on the feasibility of their ideas, but it's hard to believe that they'll have time to implement many of their ideas.
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