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.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Friday, December 5, 2008
A Brief Update . . . Finally
I've disappeared because I find myself in the middle of yet another finals week (my final one with a full courseload) -- when fatigue makes bad jokes and puns seem funnier (punnier?) and cynicism runs rampant. I'll wait until after I'm thinking clearly again to post some thoughts on:
-Michelle Rhee, the intimidator
-"Defeatists," the enemies of David Whitman
-False Dichotomies, David Brooks' specialty when writing about education
and other pressing issues . . .
But for now I'll just chuckle at the headlines in the newest journal of education, EdTweak (e.g. "New Study Links Teacher Unions with Satan"), eat some cookies (side note: don't use whole wheat flour when making chocolate chip cookies -- it's just not worth it), and get back to work.
-Michelle Rhee, the intimidator
-"Defeatists," the enemies of David Whitman
-False Dichotomies, David Brooks' specialty when writing about education
and other pressing issues . . .
But for now I'll just chuckle at the headlines in the newest journal of education, EdTweak (e.g. "New Study Links Teacher Unions with Satan"), eat some cookies (side note: don't use whole wheat flour when making chocolate chip cookies -- it's just not worth it), and get back to work.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
More on "Broken Windows" and Education
I wrote a couple of days ago about the "broken windows" theory and education based on the recent article in Science. The theory essentially holds that small amounts of disorder will lead to more problems b/c people come to accept greater levels of disorder over time as it becomes the norm. And this certainly happens in schools as well as in neighborhoods.
But the authors make a bit of a finer distinction within the notion of disorder and norms. They divide social norms into "injunctive norms" and "descriptive norms" -- with the former representing, essentially, what people believe society deems acceptable and the latter representing solely what people observe, whether they believe it to be acceptable or not. The two are often in opposition -- for instance, if you think that speeding is a bad thing but also believe that almost everybody does it. In such a case I find it odd to call following speed limits a "norm" when you normally see people doing otherwise. I can be convinced otherwise, but I think the two would be better characterized as rules (whether written or unwritten) and norms. One dictates what is acceptable and unacceptable behavior and the other dictates what is normal and abnormal behavior.
The experiments test both how behavior changes when people witness rule-breaking and how it changes when people perceive disorder as a norm. In the case of the former, people are more likely to litter when they hear illegal fireworks being shot off than when they don't. And in the case of the latter, people are twice as likely to steal an envelope with money in it when the mailbox is covered with graffiti or surrounded by litter.
In other words, there are two different ways in which disorder can affect a school: In the case of rule-breaking, when students see other students chewing gum, carrying cell phones, or breaking other rules that might not really be enforced they come to believe that rules, in general, aren't really enforced or important and are more likely to break them. In the case of degradation of norms, when students see others running, shouting, pushing, etc. they're more likely to believe that chaos (or at least unruly behavior) is the norm and conform accordingly. Or at least that's how my experience would lead me to believe their research translates to schools.
So what are the implications? I'd guess the vast majority of teachers and administrators would agree, at least to some extent, with the previous paragraph. But knowing that disorder begets disorder and stopping disorder are two different things. I don't have all the answers, but I would say two things are most important:
1.) Don't make rules that can't or won't be enforced. If you're not actually going to suspend a kid every time you see them carrying a cell phone, then don't say you will. And in the case where the principal sets the rule this applies not just to you personally, but to the staff collectively. If all teachers aren't going to enforce the rule, then it's probably not a good rule to have. If kids see other kids playing on their cell phone in class, and those kids aren't suspended the next day then nobody's going to take that rule seriously. And once kids learn that not every rule has to be taken seriously, every other rule is in peril as well.
2.) Take action against low levels of disorder. That means somebody talking out of turn in class, yelling in the hallway, refusing to do assignments, etc. Maybe rules against such aren't codified, but when something small like this occurs it's important that the student is both made aware that it's unacceptable and that the behvaior is nipped in the bud to whatever degree possible.
Implementing number two is a task that I don't envy. What happens when a kid is made aware that his/her behavior is unacceptable and they continue it anyway? Some sort of consequences must follow. What happens when the student isn't bothered by the consequences and continues the behavior? Now the school's in a pickle (unless, of course, they can expel the student -- but even then such a decision should not be made lightly).
But the authors make a bit of a finer distinction within the notion of disorder and norms. They divide social norms into "injunctive norms" and "descriptive norms" -- with the former representing, essentially, what people believe society deems acceptable and the latter representing solely what people observe, whether they believe it to be acceptable or not. The two are often in opposition -- for instance, if you think that speeding is a bad thing but also believe that almost everybody does it. In such a case I find it odd to call following speed limits a "norm" when you normally see people doing otherwise. I can be convinced otherwise, but I think the two would be better characterized as rules (whether written or unwritten) and norms. One dictates what is acceptable and unacceptable behavior and the other dictates what is normal and abnormal behavior.
The experiments test both how behavior changes when people witness rule-breaking and how it changes when people perceive disorder as a norm. In the case of the former, people are more likely to litter when they hear illegal fireworks being shot off than when they don't. And in the case of the latter, people are twice as likely to steal an envelope with money in it when the mailbox is covered with graffiti or surrounded by litter.
In other words, there are two different ways in which disorder can affect a school: In the case of rule-breaking, when students see other students chewing gum, carrying cell phones, or breaking other rules that might not really be enforced they come to believe that rules, in general, aren't really enforced or important and are more likely to break them. In the case of degradation of norms, when students see others running, shouting, pushing, etc. they're more likely to believe that chaos (or at least unruly behavior) is the norm and conform accordingly. Or at least that's how my experience would lead me to believe their research translates to schools.
So what are the implications? I'd guess the vast majority of teachers and administrators would agree, at least to some extent, with the previous paragraph. But knowing that disorder begets disorder and stopping disorder are two different things. I don't have all the answers, but I would say two things are most important:
1.) Don't make rules that can't or won't be enforced. If you're not actually going to suspend a kid every time you see them carrying a cell phone, then don't say you will. And in the case where the principal sets the rule this applies not just to you personally, but to the staff collectively. If all teachers aren't going to enforce the rule, then it's probably not a good rule to have. If kids see other kids playing on their cell phone in class, and those kids aren't suspended the next day then nobody's going to take that rule seriously. And once kids learn that not every rule has to be taken seriously, every other rule is in peril as well.
2.) Take action against low levels of disorder. That means somebody talking out of turn in class, yelling in the hallway, refusing to do assignments, etc. Maybe rules against such aren't codified, but when something small like this occurs it's important that the student is both made aware that it's unacceptable and that the behvaior is nipped in the bud to whatever degree possible.
Implementing number two is a task that I don't envy. What happens when a kid is made aware that his/her behavior is unacceptable and they continue it anyway? Some sort of consequences must follow. What happens when the student isn't bothered by the consequences and continues the behavior? Now the school's in a pickle (unless, of course, they can expel the student -- but even then such a decision should not be made lightly).
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Follow-Up on Pittsburgh's Grading Policy
Overheard today in a Pittsburgh school:
Teacher (to Student A, who was refusing to do work): "How many points do you get if you do nothing?"
Student B: "Zero"
Student A: "Fifty"
[Student A continues to refuse to do the assignment]
And that's why I whined so much about Pittsburgh's new grading policy when it was implemented (here, here, here, and here)
Teacher (to Student A, who was refusing to do work): "How many points do you get if you do nothing?"
Student B: "Zero"
Student A: "Fifty"
[Student A continues to refuse to do the assignment]
And that's why I whined so much about Pittsburgh's new grading policy when it was implemented (here, here, here, and here)
Monday, November 24, 2008
Schools and "Broken Windows"
I think virtually everybody is familiar with the "broken windows" theory of crime prevention made famous by Rudy Giuliani -- the notion that small amounts of disorder (e.g. broken windows) can, over time, foster more crime and that the way to prevent large amounts of crime is to crack down on small things before they snowball.
Well, now some researchers have conducted a series of experiments to test out this theory (hat tip: Ideas Blog). The experiments were small-scale. For example, they left an envelope with a 5 euro bill in it sticking out of a mailbox. People were twice as likely to steal the money if mailbox was covered in graffiti or surrounded by trash (abstract). Both the full paper and the article summarizing it are behind a subscription wall, but The Economist has a good synopsis of the findings here.
None of the experiments involve schools, but they do involve people breaking rules and not following directions -- something that happens an awful lot in some schools. The broken windows theory has received a lot of criticism, but I think a lot of this may be due to the way that policies were enacted rather than the underlying truth of the theory. I'd welcome hearing from somebody who disagrees, but it's hard for me to see the general theory as anything but intuitively true.
If you buy the theory, it leads one to believe that we should implement "zero tolerance" policies in our schools. But such policies have become a lightning rod for criticism. Why? Probably because they're zero tolerance for major infractions like bringing weapons to school and sexual harassment. Kids being suspended or expelled for bringing plastic knives or for kindergartners touching members of the opposite sex in ways they couldn't really comprehend was sexual has led to widespread disgruntlement with such policies.
While weapons and sexual harassment are huge problems and should be dealt with as such, they're far from the largest obstacles to learning on a day-to-day basis in most schools. That honor would go to minor issues like talking in class. I would argue that these are the true "broken windows" of schools.
And I think a lot of teachers know as such. A lot of the discussion amongst teachers in my school centered around relatively minor incidents that they believed served as tipping points in their classroom. For example: a teacher next door to me my first year had a student that was momentarily out of control and clearly crossed the line between acceptable and unacceptable behavior. Just then the Asst. Principal stepped into the room and asked if the teacher needed anything. The teacher replied that they needed the AP to remove the student from the classroom for a few minutes. The AP declined to do so. And from that point forward, students knew they could get away with things that they had previously believed they couldn't.
Now, that's not really a true fit for broken windows theory, but I could tell a thousand other similar stories. The bottom line is that it was quite clear to me that students were more likely to act up when they perceived that such actions were acceptable b/c they seemed to be the norm in the classroom, hallway, cafeteria, etc. As such, it seems that a zero-tolerance policy of some sort is wholly merited. How else to prevent the chaos that reigns in too many (note: "too many" does not imply anywhere near a majority) schools today. But how to implement one?
In other words, can a school implement a zero-tolerance policy in a way that is neither draconian nor militaristic? The closest I've seen to such policies (though I'm not sure they're 100% non-draconian/militaristic) is in the so-called paternalistic schools that David Whitman profiles. The schools go to great lengths to ensure that not a single infraction goes unnoticed, no matter how small. I'm not sure that all schools confronted by discipline problems should (or can) mirror these policies, but I think the theory behind them is sound.
Well, now some researchers have conducted a series of experiments to test out this theory (hat tip: Ideas Blog). The experiments were small-scale. For example, they left an envelope with a 5 euro bill in it sticking out of a mailbox. People were twice as likely to steal the money if mailbox was covered in graffiti or surrounded by trash (abstract). Both the full paper and the article summarizing it are behind a subscription wall, but The Economist has a good synopsis of the findings here.
None of the experiments involve schools, but they do involve people breaking rules and not following directions -- something that happens an awful lot in some schools. The broken windows theory has received a lot of criticism, but I think a lot of this may be due to the way that policies were enacted rather than the underlying truth of the theory. I'd welcome hearing from somebody who disagrees, but it's hard for me to see the general theory as anything but intuitively true.
If you buy the theory, it leads one to believe that we should implement "zero tolerance" policies in our schools. But such policies have become a lightning rod for criticism. Why? Probably because they're zero tolerance for major infractions like bringing weapons to school and sexual harassment. Kids being suspended or expelled for bringing plastic knives or for kindergartners touching members of the opposite sex in ways they couldn't really comprehend was sexual has led to widespread disgruntlement with such policies.
While weapons and sexual harassment are huge problems and should be dealt with as such, they're far from the largest obstacles to learning on a day-to-day basis in most schools. That honor would go to minor issues like talking in class. I would argue that these are the true "broken windows" of schools.
And I think a lot of teachers know as such. A lot of the discussion amongst teachers in my school centered around relatively minor incidents that they believed served as tipping points in their classroom. For example: a teacher next door to me my first year had a student that was momentarily out of control and clearly crossed the line between acceptable and unacceptable behavior. Just then the Asst. Principal stepped into the room and asked if the teacher needed anything. The teacher replied that they needed the AP to remove the student from the classroom for a few minutes. The AP declined to do so. And from that point forward, students knew they could get away with things that they had previously believed they couldn't.
Now, that's not really a true fit for broken windows theory, but I could tell a thousand other similar stories. The bottom line is that it was quite clear to me that students were more likely to act up when they perceived that such actions were acceptable b/c they seemed to be the norm in the classroom, hallway, cafeteria, etc. As such, it seems that a zero-tolerance policy of some sort is wholly merited. How else to prevent the chaos that reigns in too many (note: "too many" does not imply anywhere near a majority) schools today. But how to implement one?
In other words, can a school implement a zero-tolerance policy in a way that is neither draconian nor militaristic? The closest I've seen to such policies (though I'm not sure they're 100% non-draconian/militaristic) is in the so-called paternalistic schools that David Whitman profiles. The schools go to great lengths to ensure that not a single infraction goes unnoticed, no matter how small. I'm not sure that all schools confronted by discipline problems should (or can) mirror these policies, but I think the theory behind them is sound.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Final Problem Set
I am currently in the process of completing what I believe to be the final problem set of my grad school career (which is why I won't be posting anything in the near future). Given my apparent prowess at basic statistics, however, I'm wondering what the odds are of me being exempted from this assignment (bad statistics joke omitted for your protection).
Perhaps the better question is how much longer this will take me to do if I spend any more time trying to get out of it.
p.s. to any of you having a miserable Friday . . . at least you're not converting log odds to probability in hierarchical linear models
Perhaps the better question is how much longer this will take me to do if I spend any more time trying to get out of it.
p.s. to any of you having a miserable Friday . . . at least you're not converting log odds to probability in hierarchical linear models
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
Friday, November 14, 2008
Quick Thought on the Incentives of Incentive Pay
I wrote yesterday about how some are frustrated that when unions attempt to protect their members from capricious firings that they also make it more difficult to fire those who should not be teaching. And a related thought occurred to me today.
If all staff members in a school were rewarded when the school performed well (assuming, of course, that a school's performance can be accurately measured), wouldn't that make those staff members more eager to rid themselves of any weak links -- aka "bad" teachers?
And, in such a case, might it not be more effective if teachers shared in personnel decisions -- rather than leaving such matters solely up to principals?
If all staff members in a school were rewarded when the school performed well (assuming, of course, that a school's performance can be accurately measured), wouldn't that make those staff members more eager to rid themselves of any weak links -- aka "bad" teachers?
And, in such a case, might it not be more effective if teachers shared in personnel decisions -- rather than leaving such matters solely up to principals?
What to Worry About if You're Above Attending a "Failing" School
Fascinating article on "the rise of overparenting" in The New Yorker yesterday (hat tip: Ideas Blog). I think this, as much as anything, shows the difference between the so-called haves and have-nots in our society. As I've mentioned before, the upper-class children/schools are doing fine. It's the poor urban/rural children/schools that are really lagging behind. While we worry about 6th graders who can't read and 15 year-olds that are still in 5th grade in the "failing" schools, the upper crust of society worries about things like "overparenting" (or one of the four other terms they use for it) and whether playing Mozart will help their three-month old.
Though this behavior may have some worrisome consequences, what I find most worrying is the idea that these parents are so focused on helping their children gain an advantage that knowing other children are less privileged gives them hope. I'm not sure I buy the argument that the wealthy deliberately let impoverished schools fail in order to help their children, but I can't help but wonder if some parts of society are bothered less by this than others.
A couple of interesting notes:
-If those wages are correct, I really need to start tutoring.
-Washington D.C. residents who had no time limits for their SAT (ADD/ADHD) significantly outscored those who didn't -- I wonder if that's true across the country.
Two best quotes from the article:
Regarding the degree to which children's lives are overscheduled:
“You can’t smoke pot or lose your virginity at lacrosse practice.”
Making an argument to slow down and let the child explore:
“Young people have a marvelous faculty of either dying or adapting themselves to circumstances.”
Though this behavior may have some worrisome consequences, what I find most worrying is the idea that these parents are so focused on helping their children gain an advantage that knowing other children are less privileged gives them hope. I'm not sure I buy the argument that the wealthy deliberately let impoverished schools fail in order to help their children, but I can't help but wonder if some parts of society are bothered less by this than others.
A couple of interesting notes:
-If those wages are correct, I really need to start tutoring.
-Washington D.C. residents who had no time limits for their SAT (ADD/ADHD) significantly outscored those who didn't -- I wonder if that's true across the country.
Two best quotes from the article:
Regarding the degree to which children's lives are overscheduled:
“You can’t smoke pot or lose your virginity at lacrosse practice.”
Making an argument to slow down and let the child explore:
“Young people have a marvelous faculty of either dying or adapting themselves to circumstances.”
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Do Unions Place Adults Before Children?
A few months ago I characterized Johnathon Alter's statement that unions "believe that protecting incompetents is more important than educating children" as "sheer and utter nonsense." But he's far from the only one saying things like this.
Just yesterday the NY Times published an article in which Michelle Rhee said that "Tenure is the holy grail of teacher unions, but has no educational value for kids; it only benefits adults."
Simon Campbell, the founder of stopteacherstrikes.org (the name explains the purpose of the site), argues that "A child's right to a strike-free education supersedes a teacher's right to strike."
Beyond the world of education, The Economist's blog on American politics recently wrote that "With American carmakers nearing extinction the argument that unions are bad for business carries more heft than usual."
They're not exactly the same, but arguing that unions are bad for students and bad for profits are roughly similar. In both cases, the person making the argument believes that the union's main goal is not the same as the main goal of the organization/business. In some broad sense, there's a grain of truth to this.
A business example: The UAW's main goal is for their members to be paid and treated well -- GM's main goal (for example) is to make money. It's possible that GM could make more money by hiring a lot of workers for dirt-cheap wages and treating them like crap. But that doesn't mean they don't have common goals. Both groups have a strong interest in the company being profitable (an unprofitable business can't keep workers employed, yet along give them raises) and both groups hopefully have some sort of concern for society and humanity at large. In this sense, even if GM could make a lot of money through unethical means I would hope that they would think twice about their responsibility to do otherwise. And employing a bunch of people who have stable jobs and earn enough to make a decent living is good for the country.
For schools, I'd hope that the main goal of a school would be to educate its students as well as possible. One could argue that the main goal of a teachers' union is to ensure that its members are treated fairly and paid well, and they would have a point; that's probably their main goal. But that doesn't necessarily mean that they do that at the expense of students. Ultimately, teachers care about their students . . . and a union of teachers, when you boil it down, is really just a large group of teachers.
In the short run, I can see the argument that teachers going on strike or fighting for tenure isn't necessarily in the best interest of students. But when you look at the big picture, I don't think there are any grounds for declaring that unions believe adults are more important than students or protect adults at the expense of students. And I say that for a number of reasons:
1.) Unions aren't perfect, but they're not evil as some seem to believe. There is no sinister plot by the unions to take over the world. They don't hire monsters to hide under your child's bed at night. Their black helicopters aren't coming to get you. And any rhetoric to the contrary shouldn't be taken seriously.
2.) Much of what is in the best interest of teachers is also in the best interest of students. A more stable and professional teaching force, smaller classes, and a more orderly environment are a few of the things for which unions fight. All are in the best interest of both teachers and students.
3.) While a single bad teacher remaining in their position or a single district going on strike may not immediately benefit the students of those teachers, that doesn't mean that the broad rules surrounding such events doesn't benefit students. The fact that principals can't dismiss teachers at whim both protects some teachers who shouldn't be protected and prevents a class full of second graders from losing their wonderful teacher in the middle of the year because that teacher disagree with the principal about something. Similarly, the right to strike sometimes hurts students in the short-run but, in the long run, it could lead to a union that has more leverage to fight for the types of things I discussed in #2.
4.) Unions aim to make teachers happy, and I find it hard to believe that unhappy teachers benefit anybody. In fact, according to a recent internal study in Austin, happier teachers may lead to more successful schools.
I get the feeling that part of the reason that people don't take these things into account is because of the positions that unions are forced to take. When Michelle Rhee wants to ax a large number of teachers, the union has is forced into a corner and has no other option but to fight the plan (or at least parts of it). And fighting against a plan designed to get rid of poor teachers makes the union look bad. But I don't think any union, or any union member, would argue that we should protect bad teachers. My guess is that if Rhee had asked the union to propose a plan that they would have some sort of provision that allowed for the dismissal of the worst teachers. But the ways in which teachers are vilified by so many in the education policy arena doesn't allow unions to take the offensive in ridding their bodies of their worst members because they're too busy defending those that aren't the worst.
Anyway, here are some concluding thoughts: Are unions perfect? No. Should they perhaps be a little more flexible? Yes. Could they do a better job of working with reform-minded superintendents? Cetainly. But, are they the scourge of the Earth sent from hell to ensure that children don't learn? No, they're not, and don't believe anybody who says so.
Just yesterday the NY Times published an article in which Michelle Rhee said that "Tenure is the holy grail of teacher unions, but has no educational value for kids; it only benefits adults."
Simon Campbell, the founder of stopteacherstrikes.org (the name explains the purpose of the site), argues that "A child's right to a strike-free education supersedes a teacher's right to strike."
Beyond the world of education, The Economist's blog on American politics recently wrote that "With American carmakers nearing extinction the argument that unions are bad for business carries more heft than usual."
They're not exactly the same, but arguing that unions are bad for students and bad for profits are roughly similar. In both cases, the person making the argument believes that the union's main goal is not the same as the main goal of the organization/business. In some broad sense, there's a grain of truth to this.
A business example: The UAW's main goal is for their members to be paid and treated well -- GM's main goal (for example) is to make money. It's possible that GM could make more money by hiring a lot of workers for dirt-cheap wages and treating them like crap. But that doesn't mean they don't have common goals. Both groups have a strong interest in the company being profitable (an unprofitable business can't keep workers employed, yet along give them raises) and both groups hopefully have some sort of concern for society and humanity at large. In this sense, even if GM could make a lot of money through unethical means I would hope that they would think twice about their responsibility to do otherwise. And employing a bunch of people who have stable jobs and earn enough to make a decent living is good for the country.
For schools, I'd hope that the main goal of a school would be to educate its students as well as possible. One could argue that the main goal of a teachers' union is to ensure that its members are treated fairly and paid well, and they would have a point; that's probably their main goal. But that doesn't necessarily mean that they do that at the expense of students. Ultimately, teachers care about their students . . . and a union of teachers, when you boil it down, is really just a large group of teachers.
In the short run, I can see the argument that teachers going on strike or fighting for tenure isn't necessarily in the best interest of students. But when you look at the big picture, I don't think there are any grounds for declaring that unions believe adults are more important than students or protect adults at the expense of students. And I say that for a number of reasons:
1.) Unions aren't perfect, but they're not evil as some seem to believe. There is no sinister plot by the unions to take over the world. They don't hire monsters to hide under your child's bed at night. Their black helicopters aren't coming to get you. And any rhetoric to the contrary shouldn't be taken seriously.
2.) Much of what is in the best interest of teachers is also in the best interest of students. A more stable and professional teaching force, smaller classes, and a more orderly environment are a few of the things for which unions fight. All are in the best interest of both teachers and students.
3.) While a single bad teacher remaining in their position or a single district going on strike may not immediately benefit the students of those teachers, that doesn't mean that the broad rules surrounding such events doesn't benefit students. The fact that principals can't dismiss teachers at whim both protects some teachers who shouldn't be protected and prevents a class full of second graders from losing their wonderful teacher in the middle of the year because that teacher disagree with the principal about something. Similarly, the right to strike sometimes hurts students in the short-run but, in the long run, it could lead to a union that has more leverage to fight for the types of things I discussed in #2.
4.) Unions aim to make teachers happy, and I find it hard to believe that unhappy teachers benefit anybody. In fact, according to a recent internal study in Austin, happier teachers may lead to more successful schools.
I get the feeling that part of the reason that people don't take these things into account is because of the positions that unions are forced to take. When Michelle Rhee wants to ax a large number of teachers, the union has is forced into a corner and has no other option but to fight the plan (or at least parts of it). And fighting against a plan designed to get rid of poor teachers makes the union look bad. But I don't think any union, or any union member, would argue that we should protect bad teachers. My guess is that if Rhee had asked the union to propose a plan that they would have some sort of provision that allowed for the dismissal of the worst teachers. But the ways in which teachers are vilified by so many in the education policy arena doesn't allow unions to take the offensive in ridding their bodies of their worst members because they're too busy defending those that aren't the worst.
Anyway, here are some concluding thoughts: Are unions perfect? No. Should they perhaps be a little more flexible? Yes. Could they do a better job of working with reform-minded superintendents? Cetainly. But, are they the scourge of the Earth sent from hell to ensure that children don't learn? No, they're not, and don't believe anybody who says so.
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