It’s technically a stupid question, with an answer that ends up eating itself. That’s because the tools we use to measure teachers are the same tools we use to measure schools: test scores. So a bad teacher, by definition, is a teacher whose students are getting low test scores, and a bad school is one with teachers whose students are getting bad test scores. Therefore, the good teachers will always be in the good schools, and vice-versa.
Technically, that is. But we all know that there are good and bad teachers who are good or bad independent of their students’ test scores. If that’s true (and it is) surely it would behoove us to work out a system where the best teachers work with the neediest children, right?
Maybe; but how do we make this happen? Consider me, for example. Let’s assume, for the sake of argument and self-esteem, that I’m a good teacher. I’ve been teaching at the same school for 21 years. There’s a school nearby with twice the poverty rate as mine. Faculty turnover has been an issue and their test scores have recently put them on the AYP sanctions list. Should I go there?
Let’s apply Tom’s Law of Teacher Inertia, whereby a teacher remains in her or his school unless and until compelling forces cause her or him to move. With that in mind, let’s analyze the forces:
I’m urged to move for one, or maybe two, reasons. First of all, there’s money involved. Washington State awards National Board Certified Teachers a $5000 bonus for teaching in high-needs schools. That’s a tidy sum. (Of course, knowing me, I’d probably spend $6000 of it before the check even came.) There’s also, I suppose, the challenge of teaching a high-needs population. If teaching in my current school has become too easy (which it hasn’t) I might want to go somewhere more challenging just to see whether I have what it takes. I could also feel like moving for altruistic reasons. I could think of myself as some sort of educational missionary, put here to teach the neediest. But I don’t.
I’m compelled to stay for several reasons. First of all, I’m connected to the school community. I know many of the families and they know me. (I’m even starting to teach the children of past students.) I can be who I am, knowing my reputation has already introduced me to present and future students. Besides, all of my stuff is already there, which is not an insignificant issue. Moving to a new school takes three or four full days of packing and unpacking. And in my district, if you choose to move (as opposed to being forced to move) those days are unpaid. In other words, I’m too lazy to move.
There’s a third reason, though, and it’s probably the clincher. The current federal administration, like the last one, takes a very dim view of failing schools. Not that they shouldn’t, but their response is what scares me. Perennially failing schools are subject to increasingly harsh sanctions that could result in the whole staff getting fired and replaced. Who wants to work under that threat?
So, yeah, I’m staying put. But if we can’t get good teachers to move to failing schools, and if teacher competence is the most important factor in a child’s education, how are we ever going to improve high-needs schools?
Don’t ask me; ask them. Seriously; go into those schools and ask those teachers what kind of support they need to make their schools work. I bet you’d be surprised at what they told you. And I’ll bet you’ll get a different answer from every school, because every school’s different. And I’m just guessing here, but I bet a lot of what they tell you would be expensive. Way more expensive than spending $5000 to have some guy named Tom come in to teach one of the third grade classes. And again, I’m just guessing, but I bet they’d talk about smaller class sizes, more para support, a full-time nurse, afterschool programs, and maybe some type of high-tech system that would let them connect with other high-needs schools across the country to share ideas that work.
I don’t mean to knock the state program to encourage NBCTs to work at high-needs schools. I’m sure there are plenty of teachers who could make a positive impact by transferring to such a school. But it seems to me that the primary value of the high-needs bonus is to encourage teachers already at those schools to pursue National Board Certification.
In fact, one of the coolest things I know about is the Mitchell 20. Twenty teachers in a low-income Arizona school decided to go through National Board Certification together. They’re currently waiting to see how they did, but I know for a fact that the process itself increased their capacity enormously. I know that because they said so in the video you just watched when you clicked the hyper-link. Because that’s what NB certification does; it increases teacher capacity. And it does so within the context of the candidate’s school. Which is why it’s the perfect tool to improve the performance of high-needs schools.
So if there’s a choice between moving accomplished teachers into failing schools or turning the teachers within failing schools into accomplished teachers, then I guess my title isn’t such a stupid question after all. Yes; the worst schools should get the best teachers. But they should get them from the teachers who are already there.
But if we move the higher-performing teachers to the neediest schools, where do we place the teachers whom they displace? And what will we tell the parents at those high-performing schools when they ask where their best teachers went?
William Sanders (architect of the value added formula used by Tenn and OH) has studied this very question. The data has shown that strong teachers are “transportable”…meaning you can pick them up and move them and they will be effective in a different school at least as measured by the value added formulae. I understand trying to make the “current” teaching at the low performing school more effective but the data shows a higher impact intervention would be to move the strongest teachers into the lowest scoring schools. He readily admits that is a decision for policy makers and one that many policy makers will balk at because of the union powers that be, but the data has shown that good teachers are good teachers regardless of their placement.
I’m a NBCT teacher at a high-poverty, low-performing urban school. We have tremendous turnover — sometimes 1/3 of our staff each year, new administrators almost every year, positions filled by Teach for America interns who are wonderful but temporary, etc. We get a “hard-to-staff” bonus of $2,000 a year, but I doubt that this is enough money to make a real difference in deciding where to work. California eliminated its $5000 NBCT bonus for low-income schools just as I finished the process, but that wasn’t a factor in my decision to teach at my school, since I was already there.
Why do I stay at my school? For my students, for the other teachers, because I feel like part of the community, and yes — because I do see myself as a sort of “educational missionary”, I suppose. It is challenging and heartbreaking. The conditions and lack of resources, the issues my students face, all of it can be overwhelming. I have been there four years. I honestly don’t know if I will be able to stay for the long term or if I will burn out and need to change schools. I hope not.
I can say that more pay is not the answer. While I wouldn’t turn it down, it would not keep me at my school if I was at a point where I was not teaching well or connecting with my students. Besides, I would not want teachers transferring to my school if they were only motivated by money. Someone who does not like or respect our school population, who does not have high expectations for them, and who cannot see their talents — someone who sees only bad behavior and dysfunction — doesn’t belong in one of our classrooms.
You got it absolutely right with smaller classes, more paras, nurses (any nurses — we have none!), counselors, psychologists, tutors and additional support of all kinds. The hardest thing is to know that I am failing some of my students because I can’t give them them anywhere near the kind of help and individual attention they need.
Eliminating small frustrations would also go a surprisingly long way, I think. If only the copy machines worked, and there was enough paper. . .if the rooms were clean and free of mice. . . if we had tissues during cold season and electric pencil sharpeners, and class sets of the novels we want to teach, so that I didn’t have to spend so much time writing grants or on Donor’s Choose. . .that would help.
And then there are the state tests, and the terrible consequences if the scores fall. So as my school goes into its third or fourth year under state scrutiny, for the third or fourth time — but does California really have the resources to do anything but make empty threats anyway? Will they fire the principal, though we’ve had three already in the past four years? — there is that to worry about.
To attract the very best teachers, I would turn high poverty schools into wonderful places to teach by pouring resources into them. Cut class size in half. Double or triple the social services and counseling that students get. Match students with mentors and internships. Add paras and tutors and so much support that teachers can do all of the exciting, innovative things they want to do. It’s more expensive than a pay increase for teachers, but it will attract the right teachers!
Your story inspires me, Jennifer. I firmly believe that, contrary to to popular wisdom, some of the best teachers are working in the schools with the lowest test scores. I hope that someday we’ll measure teacher performance by looking at what they actually do in their classrooms, not by standardized test scores.
I work in a high poverty middle school and I completely agree with your conclusions. We currently have 10 NBCT’s (we’ve worked together through the process!) with 4 more waiting for scores and 3 more starting the process. There is absolutely an increase in capacity as a teacher goes through the process, and a strength in numbers as we apply the process to our own unique school setting. We’re currently classified as a failing school and I know that is because we’ve had very little staff turn over, a strong commitment to professional development and an administration with an empowering vision.
I frequently think about going to teach for DCPS. But like you said,
“There’s a third reason, though, and it’s probably the clincher. The current federal administration, like the last one, takes a very dim view of failing shoo ls. Not that they shouldn’t, but their response is what scares me. Perennially failing schools are subject to increasingly harsh sanctions that could result in the whole staff getting fired and replaced. Who wants to work under that threat?”
Amen. Who wants that? Those schools also tend to have an administration that micro-manages its teachers, shows unrealistic expectations of its teachers and students, and creates an environment where no one wants to work together. I’ve heard too many horror stories to switch.
My current school is in an underserved population, with a signifigant amount of students on free and reduced lunch. If I switched to teach in DCPS, I would not be teaching a different population of students. I would be teaching the same students without the support and resources I have at my fingertips now.
I love the idea of the teachers in those schools working together for National Board Certification. Well put, and an excellent point. Why isn’t more being done to encourage that?