Prayer to the Virgin

Things have a way of piling up, like the pink and blue rosary beads sitting in the basket at the feet of the Virgin Mary. Every classroom at Saint Dominic’s Catholic School has one. Each two-foot statue rests on a table in the corner. Her arms are open at hip level, palms out. I find myself staring at her. I wonder if perhaps she has some answers to our difficulties in educating children. Do private schools make a difference? Does teaching religion build character? For families who can afford the thousands of dollars a year in tuition, the answers to these questions are clear. For me, they aren’t.

It’s hard to tell if the Virgin is actually a model for courage and faith, or if she is more or less ignored because she is a required element on a list of classroom must haves: cursive alphabet line – check, colorful bulletin boards for student work – check, gray statue of the Virgin – check. I wish she had a light bulb to illuminate her from within. Maybe I might see something I haven’t seen before.

Based on conversations with teachers and my classroom observations, it doesn’t appear that private schools do a better job of educating children than their public school counterparts. Sure, the emphasis on tests is missing, which is great, yet teachers at many of these campuses get paid a lot less than public school teachers. They are interrupted just as often with special projects and schedule changes – a food drive, grandparent’s day, letters to veterans, and a constant flow of emails to and from parents, who sometimes believe they have a say in how classrooms should run since they pay tuition. Some administrators let the parents become too involved and do not support limits on their requests and classroom visits. Church services are also part of the weekly schedule and can change depending upon the time of year and what celebrations are associated with the religious calendar. In addition, students are out of the classroom every day for two hours to balance instruction in core subjects with art, music, Spanish, library, computer, and PE. All of this is good on one level, but it significantly limits time in the classroom for in depth study, thinking and creativity. The curriculum is mostly skills driven, with children filling out correct answers in workbooks.

It would be tempting to think that private schools also offer the benefit of smaller class sizes. Not always. I know of a school where each class has between 24 and 26 students in the elementary grades. And of course, there’s the question of diversity. One parent said to me, “I took my daughter out of private school because the only children she interacted with were white. That’s not the real world.”

 I’m also not sure how the schools deal with discipline issues or with students who have special needs (either because of a learning difficulty, or because a child is gifted and talented.) I have observed behavior problems among gifted students who actually just seemed bored. Filling out workbook pages isn’t difficult for them. Yet when given time and the opportunity to use imagination and creativity, both gifted students and struggling ones are totally engaged in performing, writing, and drawing. Behavior isn’t a problem. Janice, a third grader said, “I’m so glad when you come. It’s my favorite time of the week.”

And so, I’m back again to the Virgin Mary. Can the Mary statues be used to teach that learning is sacred, that creativity and imagination and effort are an important part of a soulful, authentic life? Or, is Mary simply there, but not actually seen because she’s always in the corner, like the calendar is always by the door.

It seems important to ask, to step inside the dark of winter and watch for the rebirth of the light. 

25 Radical Ideas

I found this interesting snippet in the education issue of The New York Times Magazine: “It’s time to give educators an orange.” Okay, not the usual apple. That’s good. Those few words got me thinking and reading the articles about what might be next in education, about what others are doing for children. Let’s all drink a glass of lightning bolts and transform everything!

1. Get rid of testing, state and standardized. “This push on tests,” says Dominic Randolph, Headmaster at Riverdale Country School in New York, “is missing out on some serious parts of what it means to be a successful human.” He’s talking about the need to build character in children. This from a man who runs one of New York City’s most prestigious private schools.
2. Teach character – optimism, persistence, and social intelligence (group dynamics and social situations). David Lanvin, co-founder and superintendent of KIPP charter schools in New York City, tracked the first group of eighth grade students to attend KIPP Academy middle school in the South Bronx through high school and college. Almost all made it through high school, 80% enrolled in college, but only 33% graduated with a four-year degree. Lanvin noticed that the students who graduated from college were not necessarily the strongest in academics, but they did have exceptional character strengths.
3. Make it okay to fail. It’s important for children to be able to come to terms with their shortcomings and work to overcome them. Karen Fierst, a learning specialist at Riverdale, says, “Our kids don’t put up with a lot suffering. They don’t have a threshold for it. They’re protected against it quite a bit. And when they do get uncomfortable, we hear from their parents. We try to talk to parents about having to sort of make it O.K. for there to be challenge, because that’s where learning happens.”
4. Give children and their parents passes and transportation to museums, all kinds. Michael Bloomberg credits his Saturday mornings at the Boston Museum of Science for teaching him to listen, question, test, and analyze.
5. Fund school libraries and pay librarians to help foster a love of books and reading.
6. Value the arts as much as science and math and athletics. Some children have difficulties in school beginning at a very young age. But all children have gifts, and maybe he or she can write songs, choreograph a dance, play the piano, sing, dance, draw, or paint. Culture thrives on diversity.
7. Hire enough teachers so class sizes remain small, from three to ten students. Provide teacher support, differentiated instruction, and make extra help standard practice. Corporations pay lobbyists exorbitant amounts of money to buy policies favorable to their profits; perhaps we can channel some of this into education. Everyone benefits.
8. Let kids move. Children learn in lots of different ways. Some cannot learn chained to a desk filling in workbook pages.
9. Teachers make as many decisions in a school day as chief executives. Pay them accordingly.
10. Require teachers to get master’s degrees. Make these as rigorous and prestigious and worthwhile as other advanced degrees. Teachers need to be treated as trusted professionals.
11. If it’s not about teaching, teachers shouldn’t do it. No fund raising, no playground monitoring, no serving breakfast, cleaning classrooms, or collecting papers for the front office. Give teachers time for planning, for talking with students, and for communicating with parents.

12. Teach children to become active learners. Use technology for research certainly, but let them demonstrate how they think by building, explaining ideas, writing and performing. At the New Humanitarian, a private school in Moscow, students are expected to think. Vasily Bogin, the school’s director, rejects the idea of memorization and drill, which he was expected to do growing up. “I didn’t want to be a slave. I didn’t want to be a person who is ordered and must obey the orders without any thinking. I didn’t consider myself to be a person who repeats texts without any criticism or thinking…”
13. Schools develop their own curricula. No politician or corporation tells schools what to do or how to do it or when to do it. If a math teacher decides to have the children use a construction paper hand to estimate the size of a giant and then make it, and if that takes up several hours over the course of a couple of days, the teacher does it. No subject has to be taught at the same time, in exactly the same way every day.
14. Shorten the school day. Let teachers have time to meet, plan, and discuss methodology. Let children have time for play and for pursuing their interests. Education is not about competing with other countries for global dominance.
15. Get rid of school cafeteria food and vending machines. It’s loaded with fat and salt and sugar and includes sodas, pizza, burgers, chips, canned green beans, fruit cocktail, tater tots and ice cream cones. Teach children about nutrition, grow gardens, and make smoothies. Study the affect on hyperactivity and autism and other learning difficulties.
16. Take the pressure off. Stop insisting on high levels of achievement. “Race to Nowhere”, a movie about stresses facing affluent American high school students, talks about the high levels of emotional problems adolescents face from excessive pressure to succeed.
17. Ask teachers if children are learning. They are the ones who know.
18. Teach foreign languages. Children need fluency in three or four. Many people around the world learn English.  We need to learn the languages of other countries as well.
19. Offer classes that teach critical thinking. New Humanitarian in Moscow offers one that teaches students three ways of thinking: verbal, abstract and representational. They use word problems and puzzles to help children think more broadly. Bogin explains, “Does 2 + 2 = 4? No! Two drops of water plus two drops of water? One drop of water.”
20. Offer oral exams, Olympiads, poetry readings and contests.
21. Build, build, and build new schools across the country – from Pittsburgh to Fresno, from Jackson to Billings to Bangor. Learning environments matter.
22. Tax corporations. If they want an educated work force, they can help pay for one. It’s a necessary investment in people, and in the future health and well being of the country.
23. Get rid of federal legislation like No Child Left Behind. It’s not working. Period.
24. Start a new movement: Occupy the Classroom. Parents, teachers and children hold rallies at schools protesting the emphasis on standardization and data collection. Invite the media, bring sleeping bags, and spend the night in a classroom.
25. Remember our beginnings. When I was growing up I remember what made me proud to live in America. We were learning about immigrants and the Statue of Liberty in sixth grade. The sonnet by Emma Lazarus made me weep: “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, the tempest–tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!” I thought we were a country for everyone. My grandparents were immigrants from Poland and the Ukraine. My mother learned to speak English here. Isn’t a good education for all a part of the promise of liberty?

I am ashamed when I see the truth of what we’ve become: a nation unable to do what’s right in educating our children.

No Miracle in Texas

Someone’s got the money, and it isn’t public schools. We’ve all heard about state budget shortfalls and their impact: teachers, school nurses, and librarians losing their jobs, arts programs and physical education eliminated. It’s terrible, I know. It gets worse. I was skimming through the Daily Kos earlier this month when I came across a post by Laura Clawson (see 9/12/11). She wants to know why education reform groups aren’t fighting to help fund the schools, instead of raising and spending millions of dollars to finance their own reform agenda. (testing, data analysis, getting rid of ineffective teachers, etc.) Wouldn’t it be better to spend money giving schools and teachers the resources they need?

Consider this: in one school district in Texas, teachers didn’t lose their jobs, the custodians did. So the teachers in high school and middle school classrooms have to clean their own classrooms within fifteen minutes of dismissal. If it’s not done, “room numbers will be logged and reported to respective principals.” Forget about putting children first. If a student comes in while the teacher is cleaning, he or she has to either refuse the student, or risk being reported. These are the choices schools districts are forced to make, between clean classrooms and attention to kids.

How would we feel if Bill Gates was expected to clean the boardroom? Can he add that to his schedule and still be an effective leader? What if Obama had to dust the Oval Office, or congressional leaders had to empty the trash? If they didn’t finish by the end of the day, they could be reported to Fox News and CNN! Elected officials can make sacrifices too. Let’s get rid of their cooks, drivers, secretaries, and cleaning people if saving money and balanced budgets are so important.

Think about this: what if a surgeon also had to clean the operating room? Would you trust her to focus on you, and not be distracted by how long it would take to clean up the mess afterwards? What if museum curators also mowed the lawns and clipped the shrubs, or senior corporate managers cleaned out the department refrigerator and the coffee pot? How would we feel about this any place else? We would be outraged! So why would we expect this of teachers? 
          I called my friend Jan in Texas. She wasn’t surprised. “I’ve been cleaning the bathroom in my class for the past five years!”

“You have? Why?”

“The custodian refuses to do it. I’m dealing with five year olds here, and they make a mess. It’s just the way it is. If water is on the floor and a child falls, I’m in trouble. Susan, the literacy coach, walked in last week when I was wiping the floor. She told me to stop because I was wasting instructional time! I tried to explain but they don’t really listen…”

 So I started to say something, and then I thought, wait a minute. Teachers and aides have lost their jobs, but her campus has coaches? Where does the money come from for that? This is a consistently high performing school, yet Jan spends her money for toilet paper, because the teachers are told they use too much, for themselves and for the children. My God!

This morning she sent me an article in Texas Monthly by Mimi Swartz, a fascinating look at the Houston Independent School District. The superintendent has plenty of money for his personal agenda, even during a time of severe budget shortfalls and massive spending cuts at schools.

Terry Grier, the top dog in HISD since August 2009, brought in consultants from around the country to “assess everything from curriculum to hiring practices”. Yet there are schools within the district that don’t have textbooks! He also spent $269,000 to study the district’s magnet program. The magnet programs are a shining light in HISD since schools are able to offer specialized classes (fine arts, technology, math and science, foreign languages, and gifted and talented enrichment) to students across the community. Kids can apply and attend schools that speak to their talents and interests. However, Grier needed justification to slash funds, and the study produced the results he wanted.  Magnet programs, and the bus routes to get students to these schools, should be dropped to save money and improve neighborhood schools. Luckily, parents fought him, and the programs are still in place, at least for the current school year.

In August 2010, Grier fought for and implemented a “data-driven instruction” program dubbed Apollo 20. The idea is to bring intense assistance to four high schools and five middle schools in a three-year experiment to help turn these schools around. Not a problem right? Except for the cost: $19 to 26 million. And what about other deprived students in other neighborhoods in Houston? What about ProjectGrad, a similar program already in place? Grier also promised he wouldn’t use the district’s general fund, but he did because he couldn’t get enough from the feds and the local business community. All of this to fatten his resume! Schools and teachers and children have to pay the price for someone looking toward his next job!

How’s this for heartbreaking: The school board voted to pay large bonuses to principals who agreed to work in Apollo schools if performance goals were met. After four months, Grier wanted the board (November 2010) to approve a new formula allowing the program’s principals to include the bonus amounts in their retirement calculations. A teacher, a master teacher, got up to speak. He talked about how teachers’ salaries had been frozen the summer before. With the state budget in crises (legislators eventually cut $4 billion from education, even though they had $9 billion dollars in a “rainy day fund”) and more teacher layoffs predicted, he and his wife could not afford the 25% increase in their health insurance. He thought the money should be put toward teachers’ salaries instead. “You’re screaming poverty, and on the other hand, you’re paying forty-five-thousand-dollar bonuses, a starting teacher’s pay, to principals.” The measure passed.

I don’t really know what else to say. I think a quote from the comments section of the Daily Kos says it all: “The ‘reformers’ aren’t serious about improving the quality of schools and teachers. They are just using the issue to bash teachers, gut school funding, and destroy teachers’ unions. It will end with the complete demise of public education.”

No Child Left Alive

Yes, it’s true. I’m thinking about moving to Finland. I want to be at the top of the world, and that’s where Finland is in educating children. So, why don’t we borrow what they are doing? Lots of reasons, but the most significant is our inability to let go of what isn’t working in favor of something that does. It’s simply too difficult because the requirements for change involve thinking about education differently, and standards-based education reform (setting measurable goals through testing to improve student achievement) has a mighty, choking grip.

How Did We End Up Here?

This is what happened: during the 2000 presidential campaign, Bush sold the idea that his brand of education reform was needed to close the achievement gap between whites and non-whites. Who wouldn’t want to support that? The result: No Child Left Behind (NCLB) became law in 2001 and put in place a test-based system of accountability which increased the role of the federal government in education. And, the bill had Democratic support. (August 12, 2011, The New York Times)

The law says every state has to set standards in reading and math, and all children must be proficient in these areas by 2014 to get federal money. Children in grades 3-8 are tested yearly, and districts write up reports as to whether or not schools are making adequate yearly progress (AYP). Schools that don’t make AYP face the possibility of not only less money, but also state takeovers or closings. What a mandate: do this or else!

Ten Years Later

 Guess what? Educators complained! Tens of thousands of schools failed, they said, because the law’s requirements are impossible. There are too many variables in working with children (see prior blog posts) for a one size fits all approach. The law also hurts schools that might otherwise be exploring ways to meet student needs. Children are not, after all, cars on an assembly line with identical parts. The emphasis on punishment rather than solutions sets up schools to manipulate test results, not only through cheating, but also in reclassifying sub-groups (like high school drop-outs) to inflate success with minority students.

On top of all this, Democrats felt betrayed by Bush. He promised to provide federal aid to help low-scoring schools and he didn’t. Well, that makes a lot of sense right? Punish the schools for not performing, but don’t provide the needed resources for them to improve. All the money went to funding wars anyway, which everyone knows is far more important than education.

As 2014 looms, at least fifty percent of schools are or will miss the proficiency requirements, and some states (like Utah and Montana) are simply rebelling, telling the federal government to, well, shove it. In October 2009, the National Assessment of Educational Progress showed student achievement grew faster before NCLB. Math scores increased marginally for 8^th graders, not at all for 4^th graders, marking a six-year trend of sluggish growth since the law passed. Here’s one bright spot: Since attempts to rewrite the law have failed, Secretary of Education Arne Duncan says he will use his executive authority to free states from the proficiency requirements. Hallelujah! There’s a step in the right direction! But we need so much more.

The Case for Finland

 I watched a segment from Dr. Tony Wagner’s documentary The Finland Phenomenon: Inside the World’s Most Surprising School System. The best education system in the world rarely tests students and values teachers. The hell you say! In fact, just about everything Finland does contradicts what’s happening in the U.S. Children start school at age 7, they take fewer classes, spend less time in school each day (so teachers can work together and plan!), barely have any homework, and get three months off in the summer. Teachers are respected professionals, within the parent community and among administrators, must have a master’s degree, are rarely evaluated, and have a strong union. Schools receive modest funding, develop their own curricula including cooking, art, music, industrial arts, and literacy, research and adopt new technologies, keep class sizes small, value human interaction, and leave no child behind. There is no achievement gap.

On top of that, Finnish children learn three to four languages, are part of learning communities where it’s not about winning or losing, where extra help is standard practice, along with differentiated instruction to meet the needs of gifted students. I saw one room that had three teachers working with the children! Oh my God!

So a superintendent talked to a group visiting from the U. S. He said in Finland they’ve found that a shorter class day produces the best results because it gives children time for other activities (playing outside, music, family time). He said they trust their teachers. If you want to know if the kids are learning, he said, ask the teachers. No one says from outside the education system, do this or do that. Education does not belong to the politicians. I swoon at the thought.

So what’s the problem with trying some of these things? Well, the obvious answer is that politicians and corporations are running the show, and teachers are neither trusted nor valued. Those two factors alone would require huge shifts in our cultural thinking. Critics also say that Finland’s system can’t work here because our population is much larger, there’s greater ethnic diversity, and we have a higher flow of immigrants into the country.

I say, so what? Isn’t it time to try something new? Isn’t ten years long enough on the one size fits all approach of testing? If we continue the way we’re going, curiosity and innovation in this country will die, is already dying. No one will be left who can think and contribute to meeting the needs of a diverse culture. Can we really afford not to change?

The Lemming Problem

Asleep in Mid Air

You’ve all seen the pictures, little creatures falling off a cliff to certain death. It’s happening right now across America. Many educators, academics, journalists, foundations, politicians, and parents are killing teachers and children. They follow without question the popular corporate model that only test results are an accurate measure of student learning and teacher effectiveness. Like the filmmakers in the 1958 nature documentary about lemmings, corporate interests have done a magnificent job of staging lies as truth. They have created an environment where otherwise sane people engage in utter madness. The “oh shit” moments came for me in late spring and summer when I read a series of articles about education reform.

Follow the Money

My first shock was The New York Times article published on May 22, 2011.  (“Behind Grass Roots School Advocacy, Bill Gates” by Sam Dillon). Here’s how the Gates Foundation is using their money:

·      They fund advocacy organizations like Teach Plus and recruit local teachers. Their job? Convince state legislators to pass reforms. In Indiana, the recruits conveniently forgot to mention they represented Teach Plus. They claimed to be just teachers interested in reform. No, they are puppets whose strings are pulled by what Gates wants. Such is the power of corporate money.

·      The foundation also pays data specialists from Harvard to work inside school districts and make changes to curriculum; they pay education analysts to explain the issues to journalists; they give grants to media organizations like Education Week and public radio and television stations. Well, that certainly takes care of things doesn’t it? I mean, all this money allows the foundation to control how people think about public education! Who’s going to present a conflicting viewpoint, or even a truthful one and possibly lose millions of dollars?

Oh, and by the way, in 2009, the foundation spent $373 million on education. The current plan: $3.5 billion over the next five or six years.

 Whatever Happens, Don’t Listen to Expert Advice

Valerie Strauss writes an education blog for the Washington Post called “The Answer Sheet.”  On May 22, 2011, she published a letter from ten academic researchers to the New York State Board of Regents urging them not to evaluate teachers and principals based on student test scores. These experts represent several universities from across the country: UCLA, Stanford (4), Duke, Columbia (2), and the University of Colorado at Boulder (2). These people have been involved in extensive research around testing and measurement. A group one would perhaps want to pay attention to, right?  Here’s what they told the Regents:

·      Methods to estimate teacher effectiveness (known as value- added models) based on test scores show that “these measures are too unstable and too vulnerable to many sources of error to be used as a major part of teacher evaluation.” These models cannot take into account that some teachers will have students with more difficulties (poor attendance, homelessness, learning issues), which can impede performance on tests, and make it look as if a teacher is not effective.

·      The value-added models also cannot separate out the influence of prior year teachers, or school and home conditions on learning. For example, a teacher in a school that is able to provide resources to support learning and serves children from stable families may appear to be a more effective teacher.

Of course the Regents ignored the evidence and so, beginning with this school year, teachers and principals in New York will have 40 percent of their evaluations based on student test scores. The state of Texas also plans to adopt similar evaluations for their teachers. This is what happens when one voice is heard, the corporate one. Forget innovation. Isn’t it just easier to go along?

And Then, There’s the Cheating

There have been lots of headlines about spectacular testing gains by students in urban school districts. I’m thinking about Atlanta, Washington, D.C., and Houston. The testing virus has spread, the drumbeat of reform screams loudly, and the great reformers are rewarded. Superintendent of the Year for Beverly Hall in Atlanta, Michelle Rhee is now a national media star, and Terry Grier got a big, fat bonus.

Except there’s a wee problem, and it’s growing. The headline in The Christian Science Monitor on July 5, 2011: “America’s Biggest Teacher and Principal Cheating Scandal Unfolds in Atlanta”. According to Patrik Jonsson, the testing gains in Atlanta’s public schools were based on widespread cheating by 178 teachers and principals. Why the fuck should this come as a surprise? When the test is all that matters, cheating happens. Teachers and principals get bonuses for performance and are threatened with job loss when the scores are bad. The response from districts? Well, most teachers don’t cheat. Really? Isn’t teaching to the test a form of cheating? Based on what I’ve seen, teaching to the test begins the first week of school. And, on top of that, the Atlanta school district refused to investigate the cheating. (You might want to sit down for this one). They wanted to prove to the Gates Foundation and others that the money invested in Atlanta would have an impact on urban education.

Atlanta is not alone. There are reports that show student irregularities in Washington, D.C. (see USA Today, March 28, 2011), and in Houston, students in two schools said that teachers helped them on the tests (not the first time cheating has happened in that city).  Update: add Philadelphia to the list.

Robert Schaeffer of the anti-testing National Center for Fair and Open Testing, said it best, “How many wake-up calls have they had? When people’s careers, income, and self-images depend on boosting test scores, some will find ways to boost scores by any means necessary.” It doesn’t seem to matter that this reliance on testing is wrong. There are alternate voices everywhere and those in power aren’t listening. The corporate voice runs it all. Over the cliff we go.

The Search for the Man of Steel

I sat on the sofa and watched Waiting for Superman with my husband. I hugged a pillow against my chest to keep from pulling out my hair. Bill Gates and Michelle Rhee are superheroes, along with superintendents and principals of charter schools and university professors. I didn’t know they had the answer! I’m supposed to be relieved. They’ve identified the bad guys: teachers. And the perfect one size fits all solution: charter schools. Certainly, public education is failing most students, especially in urban areas and among minority groups. But… a few things bother me:
It's Not the Truth

1. Unions aren't the problem. But in the film, teachers can’t be fired because the unions protect their jobs through tenure and a refusal to change. Because of tenure, teachers sit around reading the paper and collecting their paychecks instead of teaching. Okay, but is this true everywhere? That’s what the film implies, but it isn’t true in my state. Unions have very little power here; there is no such thing as tenure for K-12 teachers. Firing a teacher may not always be easy: principals must do their jobs with observations and documentation of course. And teachers have a right to union representation. So what? I think the superheroes might want to talk to teachers and principals in Rockville, Maryland. They have a system in place, a collaborative effort that’s worked for the past 11 years, where teachers are given assistance as needed and a fixed amount of time to improve before they are fired. And teachers there do get fired. (The New York Times, June 6, 2011).

2. No one talks to the teachers!  Only one teacher was interviewed on camera, the National Teacher of the Year for 2005, Jason Kamras. He talked only about a teacher evaluation system for no longer than a couple of minutes. I think the point was to show how teacher evaluations as outlined in union contracts are outdated and cumbersome. But I expected someone like him to have much more to say. The rest of those who were interviewed included administrators, principals and superintendents, professors at universities, Bill Gates, and Michelle Rhee, none of whom either really understand or have experienced the real work involved in teaching children in a classroom every day. But they are superheroes. They have money or connections along with the power to influence others and make a name for themselves. God help us all if teachers talked. They were filmed teaching in charter schools or reading the newspaper or sitting with their arms crossed at union meetings. They were asked no questions. Maybe the superheroes had a momentary lapse because, they are, after all, busy saving the world. And, of course there’s only one way that can happen.

3. Not every child has a family that supports education. The children profiled were smart and deserving students who had a great deal of family support. Parents and grandparents sat with their children at the kitchen table, offering help and encouragement. What about those who don’t have that support, or have learning disabilities, or who are homeless or on drugs or pregnant or being hit or raped or starved? What if they are angry or sad, and have trouble finding adults they can trust?  What about the kids who drop out, who don’t believe school matters because they aren’t offered one thing that stimulates their interests or their curiosity? The difficulties in education are so much more complex than the film suggests. (See also Precious: Based on the Novel “Push” by Sapphire). I certainly remain hopeful that Bill Gates might try teaching for at least a week, any grade level, at any urban school. This would be interesting, no?

4. Charter schools are not miracle factories. Certainly, the schools shown in the film were impressive: clean hallways, colorful bulletin boards, strong discipline, a rigorous work ethic, and high expectations of both teachers and students. But where was the innovative teaching? In every classroom filmed (with the exception of a science experiment), the teacher talked to the whole class or to individuals, and the children listened. I did not see any demonstration of children actively engaged in their own learning: completing projects, engaged in book group discussions, using math manipulatives, sharing their work or presenting their thinking. However, there was a graph that claimed the test scores at these schools were amazing! But are test scores a reflection of what children know? The superheroes would have us believe this is so, and yet I’ve found in my experience that while skill and drill can produce great test scores, it doesn’t mean children can think and innovate and create and design. They know how to find a right answer. Is this the best we can do for children?

Lots of people go to college, but it may not be right for every child. Those who can think, those who are curious, those who know what they love, and what their gifts are will contribute far more to our society than a system that insists the sole purpose of education is to provide a corporate work force. Diversity is powerful; uniformity and sameness is the death of innovation.

The superheroes and their focus on data as a measure of school effectiveness will not save education.Teachers are not the problem, they are the solution. The man of steel eats only numbers, the modern version of kryptonite and children are the victims. Look instead for the Incredibles, the ones who do great things when they stop trying to be like everyone else and learn to be themselves.

Performing for Money

Caution Not to Be Taken

The clouds gather outside, darkening the late afternoon light. Natalie bites her apple and looks at the papers strewn across the dining room table. “I hate math,” she says to me, “I don’t see how any of this stuff is helpful, not even when I grow up.”  We’ve had this conversation before. The “stuff” she’s referring to is a series of math packets, each with a list of specific learning objectives at the top and two to four pages of multiple-choice problems. I find it difficult to argue with her. She has these packets every night for homework, but lately she finds them more troublesome than usual. She didn’t perform well on a practice test given to assess her risk of failing the state mandated math test. So now, instead of working with the rest of the class, she is in a group with other struggling students. She, along with five others, must complete test practice packets for homework, along with small group practice during the school day. The test is two months away.

“Ms. G,” she says, “I am getting a really bad headache, and I feel dizzy.” For the past three weeks, I’ve noticed she says this often in our afternoon sessions. The doctor also thinks she has acid-reflux, in addition to the daily headaches. She is eleven years old. Natalie is a gifted child, is nonwhite, and comes from an upper middle class family. She thrives when she can create and explore and use her imagination. Although she struggles in math, she does well when she can manipulate objects, play games, and draw as she’s learning new concepts. She is then able to demonstrate her knowledge on paper easily. She needs more time and practice than her classmates to master word problems and algorithms, and she works hard to learn. But the constant daily flow of worksheets frustrates her. The teaching does not take her learning style into consideration at all.

I look at her and ask how things went in math today. “Ms. S told me I’m not mastering enough objectives. She says I have to do more, and that I have to practice every day for the state test because I have to get above a 95%. I am stressed. I don’t know if I can do it. And besides, my teacher doesn’t care about me anyway. She only wants me to do well so she can get her extra money.”  

Here it is. Another example of the hidden costs to children from standardized testing. Teachers are evaluated not on best practice, but on test scores. The pressure to get the scores results in the test objectives replacing a curriculum that inspires children’s thinking and curiosity and a positive attitude toward mathematics. Teachers are offered additional money when children perform at a high level on the tests. The more the children perform, the more money the teacher gets. To perform at a high level, in the logic of this insanity, children who struggle need lots of test practice months before the actual test. No wonder Natalie feels bad.

Over twenty years ago, as a new classroom teacher, I believed that the methods I used to teach children were enough to help them meet any challenge, including tests. I studied and planned my instruction carefully, incorporating games and drama and math journals and problem solving and group investigations. I read books by Marilyn Burns and worked hard to implement her strategies and suggestions. I wanted my lessons to be meaningful for all the children, with their varying abilities and cultures and learning styles. For one project, I used construction paper and cut out oversize hands and told the children giants visited the room at night looking to eat pencil shavings and erasers. They left handprints in the mess of shavings on the floor. I gave each small group a hand and told them to estimate the size of the giant and draw him or her using bulletin board paper. Their thinking and reasoning and engagement in the process was astounding. The giants hung in the hallway outside our classroom, generating lots of looking and talk from students in other classes. Math was fun, for me and for them.

 Two weeks before the test, I taught the children test taking strategies. I did not teach the test, and the children performed well because I had taught them to think and reason and explore mathematics every day.

Now testing has replaced teaching, high scores and money are more important than authentic teaching and learning. This not only hurts teachers, it hurts children.

Natalie puts her head in her hands. “I don’t like this, Ms. G,” she says, looking at the worksheet packets beneath her elbows. I listen and nod. There isn’t much that I can say. She is quiet for a few seconds and I say, “How about we get this finished. It’s not really hard for you, and then we can work on your project.” She smiles at this and picks up a pencil. When we finish, Natalie decides to work on a math comic book she’s creating to explain algebra equations. She’s invented characters that have a mission: to save the students who live in a bland world. All these students do all day is sit at desks writing the number 1 on notebook paper. “Math should be more interesting than that,” she says, “I mean Ms. G think about it, no one can live on just turkey sandwiches and mayo. Everyone needs variety. These kids need a bus to a creative math world.”  I couldn’t agree more.

It's the Numbers, Stupid!

Ms. K sits at her old, wooden desk. It's 7 pm. Her head is almost hidden behind piles of paper stacked like bricks in a white wall in front of her. Tonight she is looking at math papers, an assessment of her students' progress. Her desk is covered with test forms, answer documents, and a spreadsheet that summarizes the students' scores. She puts her fingers next to a couple of names, notices the column marked "at risk." She knows she will have to explain their poor performance to expert evaluators, they missed two out of three questions, and she will have to document what remedial action she plans to take. These things would be reasonable if she was teaching applied mathematics at MIT. Ms. K teaches kindergarten.

     When I first began teaching twenty years ago, this is not what I imagined at all. I thought five year olds were supposed to spend their time learning about the world and each other. I pictured colored blocks and sand tables, small plastic animals and beans for counting, a tiny kitchen for creative play, books and beanbags and storytelling and writing and playacting. All designed to help young children be active learners and practice getting along with others. But this isn't part of our corporate education model. Ms. K doesn't have as much time for these things anymore. She is now required to test twenty-four children every three weeks to see if they're moving fast enough in math. This involves copying the tests, helping children understand how to fill in a bubble for their answers, and showing them the difference between top and bottom, left and right. For some, this can take the whole school year. When I ask to see the documents, she shows me a file folder an inch thick filled with formalized, computer-generated pages. These come from the data she inputs into a hand held device. She is also required to collect data from reading assessments, adjust reading groups daily, and prepare for the standardized tests administered every January.

      Another set of math assessments is done three times a year. Ms. K sits with each child for twenty to thirty minutes and orally asks a series of questions on a variety of math concepts. She writes down their answers and tracks the data. She also has to manage the remaining twenty-three five year olds who have an attention span of approximately ten minutes. At thirty minutes per child and twenty-four children, this set of assessments takes twelve hours, two hours a day for six days. When does teaching actually happen?  Data collection begins in September.

     Administrators also look at the computer pages to evaluate and analyze the numbers. Recently someone in the central administration decided the school's growth in math was not high enough. So they sent a math coach to observe the teachers, find the problem, and set the standard for academic rigor. Ms. K was coached on what words she needed to use as she taught. The coach whispered to her, in the middle of a lesson, "Now say 'how many are in each group?' Then ask, 'how would you read that graph?' " Ms. K is a thirty-five year early childhood, award winning veteran teacher. She is an expert at teaching, speaking, and listening to children. But she is being retrained for teaching from a script, where everyone's words are the same. This is a school that has been high performing on both state and standardized tests for years. Teachers had time to facilitate creativity, deep learning, critical thinking, and imagination. Why does a school that's working need more data?

     Because current thinking about school reform insists that data is the answer, that data tells the whole story about how children learn, that uniform assessments and tests are the best way to insure that teachers are effective and that schools are performing. This is an example of how schools are being run like corporations: identify the objectives and goals, accumulate data to assess achievement of those goals, and analyze the   results. I am afraid for our future.

     What's missing is understanding that children learn in unique ways, at their own pace, which is not always measurable at any given moment in time. If a child has difficulty with adding numbers in kindergarten, it doesn't mean they won't be able to do so by first grade. It doesn't mean they are at risk of failure in school. Learning takes time, but the assessments are taking up the time that Ms. K would otherwise spend in engaging children to think deeply about the world by telling and writing their own stories and plays, by counting beans, by listening to books and acting them out, by making up a number game, by singing songs, and drawing pictures, and splashing paint onto paper to illustrate a book or a math problem.

     These are the kinds of experiences that allow innovation and creative thinking to flourish. This is how curiosity is born and a love of learning and the belief in possibility and the confidence to try. I want today's kindergarten children to grow into the best members of society, which are those who can innovate and create and think for themselves. Kindergarten is when children learn to enjoy school. So, when does that training come? If we are not going to instill a love of learning and imaginative thinking in five year olds, then when will we do it? Classrooms are now boardrooms. The only thing that counts is the numbers.

     But a vital love of learning and the deep satisfaction that comes from finding out how the world works is not measured by filling in a circle to get the right answer.

     Ms. K pulls outs the answer sheets for the children who missed two questions. They filled in two spaces on those instead of one, as five years old might typically do. Ms. K knows these children are not "at risk". She says often, "These administrators have killed the art of my profession. I'm not a teacher anymore, I'm a data collector and a data analyst, and that's not the job I trained for or love."

     But if Ms. K wants to keep her job, she needs to sit at her desk awhile longer. She still has another stack of papers: data to input, reading groups to shuffle, answer sheets to print. Tomorrow she begins again, looking at data to be sure the children are learning, objective by objective.

Teachers on Fire

The paper crown looks like fire; the tiny writhing flames are captured in frozen two-inch spikes. The principal holds it in both of her hands a few inches above Ms. D's head. It is 2:00 o'clock on a Friday afternoon. Forty teachers sit hunched around me on kid-sized stools attached to low tables in the cafeteria. This space has no windows, only yellowed, fluorescent lights hanging from a cavernous ceiling. It feels like we are all in the middle of a cave. I've been invited here to present to teachers, to inspire them with creative, innovative ideas. But instead, as usual, I'm mentally adjusting how I'm going to even capture their attention and make this a useful session.
     "Let me tell you about Ms. D and why she's this month's Teacher on Fire," the principal says. Ms. D stands in front of the room, hands clasped in front of her, a Mona Lisa smile on her face. I couldn't help thinking of this as a crucifixion of sorts, the death of working as a teacher in ways that are authentic, innovative and matter to children. I knew what was coming. It had nothing to do with inspired thinking or creative lessons. For that, teachers need time and support, both of which are burned to ashes every day.

  "First of all," the principal continues, "Ms. D is here every morning at 6:30, and stays after school until the custodians kick her out, usually around 8 o'clock at night. At home, she emails parents to keep them informed of their child's progress, and if a child is absent, she calls parents at home to find out why. When I see her in the hall, she has a  perfect  line of quiet children who walk with their hands behind their backs. She's always willing to take children from another class when a teacher on her team is absent. She has perfect attendance, and her classroom is clean and inviting. Her assessment data this semester are phenomenal, and she has no parent complaints."

 Sitting on my tiny stool, I remember how much I wanted to be Ms. D, to be praised as a "great teacher". I thought if I worked long enough and hard enough I could make a difference in the lives of young children, especially those who needed it most. Here's what I know now: To be a teacher on fire is an exercise in insanity and impossibility. To hold this teacher out as an example of excellence is ridiculous. It's not about teaching at all. Like me, she gets no extra pay for her time and effort. Recognition demands unreasonable hours and the completion of a never-ending list of tasks and expectations. In order to cope, Ms. D is probably swilling a case of Dr. Pepper each week that she stashes under her desk, gulping Lean Cuisine lasagna and tater tots, processed foods low on nutrition but high in convenience, and, in the afternoons,  a Snickers bar from the vending machine.

 Now she has a paper tiara.

 Yeah, she's on fire all right. As I'm watching this I realize we are all supposed to think she is perfect. But I know she cannot work like this and have a life outside of school.

 Here is what it means to be on fire: first, her lesson plans need to be written weekly, adjusted daily, and must include learning objectives for the subjects being taught. Then, of course, there's paperwork: grading, assessments, copies, book club order forms, information to go home to parents, fund raisers, forms for picture day, forms to go in children's school files, all in alphabetical order, please. Ms. D must respond to emails, attend grade level and principal meetings each week, and schedule parent conferences, none of which should be done during instructional time. She begins her day in the early hours of the morning and doesn't stop. Since there isn't enough time during the school day, this means Ms. D must work at home in the evenings and on weekends.

   Ms. D smiles. Someone snaps a picture for the bulletin board in the front hallway, the one with the black background and fiery border that matches the crown on her head. It makes her look like she's roasting in hell. But she doesn't feel the flames. On the weekends she'll have to figure out how to diversify instruction for children with attention difficulties, emotional problems, family problems, and learning disabilities. She must give attention to all twenty-five kids in her class, but especially the ones who suffer from illness, neglect, abuse and poverty. She spends Saturday afternoons and her own money at the teacher supply store, the grocery store, and the toy store. She creates bulletin boards for student work and tries to plan when she'll have time to change the display.

 She also attends professional development after school and on Saturdays, runs a booth at the school carnival, and organizes field trips and parties. Her heart skips a beat each time a child gets a C or a D, and she never raises her voice or gets angry. She prepares the children for standardized tests, administers the tests, makes sure all the children excel on the tests, or explains why they don't, and always, always stays composed, flexible, and uncomplaining. Yes, she is a teacher on fire.

 And she's not the only one. We're all on fire. Is it just me or do others see what I see? This is a system that's broken. In five or ten years Ms. D will still be chained to at least a 60 hour work week, exhaustion, stress related illness, and a nonexistent personal life. But, she'll keep going because she believes she has to. She is afraid. Afraid she' s not good enough, afraid of making a mistake, afraid of being labeled an ineffective teacher and losing her job. All of us are afraid.

 If I could speak to Ms. D, I would tell her to stop. I would tell her that working this way is hurting her and the children. I would talk with her about her day, see what's really important, and let go of the rest. The best part of this job is creating lessons, ones that make teaching and learning a pleasure.  I would help her make a plan for a balanced life, one that gives her time for movies and plays, bicycles and gardens, dates and friends.

 It's 3:30. I've finished my presentation, gotten the teachers to create group poems and perform them. They laughed a lot, and many told me what we did felt good. Some head right for the parking lot. Some are on their phones, making plans for the afternoon. I glance down the hall to my left as I'm leaving the building, and I see a solitary figure returning to her classroom. It is Ms. D, a pile of papers in her left hand, the crown hanging loosely from her right.