By Tom
Since the beginning, Schools have been called upon to fix societal dilemmas. Way back when, schools were supposed to teach kids how to farm. Then they were expected to turn kids into factory workers. In the post-war years, they were charged with directing some kids toward college and others toward the trades. In the sixties, they were told to produce rocket scientists and astronauts. In the seventies, schools were expected to end segregation. In the eighties we were expected to prevent drug abuse, and in the nineties we were told to prevent AIDS.
But now we're being asked to do something truly difficult. There's an Achievement Gap in this country. Children of color and of poverty tend to perform significantly below their white, Asian and more affluent classmates. And schools are expected to fix this dilemma.
In one sense, it's flattering to be asked to solve such a complex problem. It's sort of like the testosterone spike I get when my wife asks me to open the pickle jar.
But this is one tight pickle jar, and I'm not sure how to open it.
One aspect of the problem concerns the fact that many of us are working simultaneously with kids on both sides of the gap. When kids with different backgrounds, aptitudes and skill sets come to us, how do we teach in such a way that everyone leaves our classroom at the same, college-bound level?
Let’s use a mathematical model. Teacher quality, we've been told by researchers, is the most important factor that affects student achievement. But it’s not the only factor. There's also the environment in which a child grows up. And then there's the child. Every child has a unique package of talent and motivational level. For the sake of argument, let’s assume that these are the only three factors that affect student achievement. Here’s what our mathematical model might look like:
TM x FC x TQ = SA
Where TM stands for student talent and motivation, FC stands for the family and community in which a child grows up, TQ stands for teacher quality, and SA stands for student achievement.
Let’s plug four kids into this mathematical model.
Jenny is bright and highly motivated. She also has caring parents who make an effort to expose her to a rich mélange of good books, cultural experiences and intelligent conversation. On a scale of one to four, Jenny has a four in TM and a four in FC.
Rachel has learning problems. She has trouble reading and her writing never comes out the way she wants. Numbers confuse her. But her parents work very hard with her on her homework, they take her to tutoring and they’re very involved with her school. Let’s give Rachel a two in TM and a four in FC.
Willy is bright and highly motivated. He wants to go to college and become an architect. He lives with a single parent who works two jobs and doesn’t have the time or educational level to work with him on his homework. The TV is on all the time, and Willy’s neighborhood isn’t very safe. Willy gets a four in TM but a one in FC.
Then there’s Cal. He doesn’t seem to like school and it shows. His reading is slow and labored and his writing is barely legible. He also has trouble with math. He’s unmotivated and difficult to work with. His parents drink a lot and never miss an opportunity to tell Cal how much they hated school when they were young. Cal gets a one in TM and a one in FC.
Now let’s put these four kids into the same classroom; which means they all have the same teacher. Let’s call that teacher “Tom,” and we’ll give Tom a TQ score of three, just to be generous. When we multiply these factors to find each student’s achievement level, here’s how it shakes out:
Jenny:
4 x 4 x 3 = 48
Rachel:
2 x 4 x 3 = 24
Willy:
4 x 1 x 3 = 12
Cal:
1 x 1 x 3 = 3
Pretty stark, huh? Obviously, this mathematical model isn’t very refined, and there’s definitely more than three factors involved in the equation, but if you show this to any teacher in America, they will agree with the central concept: Teacher quality is an important factor, but not the only factor, and factors, by definition, interact with other factors.
And there's brain research that supports this model. When we learn, we build connections between what we already know, resulting in an increasingly complex network of connections. Think of a map. If you built a new major arterial between two large suburbs, you would also create a mirad of connections between all the commmunities that were previously connected to those suburbs. But if you connect two remote towns with that same strectch of road, you would only connect two small towns to each other. Teachers see this all the time. You teach a great lesson. Everyone learns. But the students who come into that lesson with the most prior learning will get the most out of it. It's ironic, and a little frustrating: The more you already know, the more you learn.
The challenge is obvious. How can Tom, or any teacher, simultaneously be a “three” for Jenny, a “six” for Rachel, a “twelve” for Willy, and a “forty-eight” for Cal, so that these four kids all leave his classroom bound for Harvard, Yale or the University of Washington?
I don’t know, but here’s one idea: What if you increased the TQ factor? One way to do this might be to cut the number of kids in Tom’s class by half. (another way might be to help make Tom a better teacher, but let's not get carried away) Maybe Tom’s true TQ score is 75, but because he has 25 students, each kid receives only a fair portion of that quality, which is three. But if there were only 12 or thirteen kids in the room, they would get twice as much of Tom, or a TQ factor of six. How would that impact student achievement?
Jenny:
4 x 4 x 6 = 96
Rachel:
2 x 4 x 6 = 48
Willy:
4 x 1 x 6 = 24
Cal:
1 x 1 x 6 = 6
That’s clearly not the answer, is it? But it implies a different solution: decrease class size in those neighborhoods with a high number of at-risk students.
But that’s exactly what we don’t do in this country. And besides, many teachers, including Tom, are in a situation where we have kids from both sides of the Achievement Gap sitting next to each other in the same classroom.
Like I said, this is one tight pickle jar. How would you open it?
In response to Bob: My contract does not specify that I have to provide “instruction that fits all students in ways that they all meet minimum academic performance standards.” The people who agreed to my district’s collective bargaining agreement with my local association wisely recognize the fact that education happens when there is good teaching on the part of the faculty, engaged effort on the part of the students, and adequate support on the part of the parents. My responsibility is to have an impact on student learning, just as a cop’s responsibility is to prevent crime. But just like a cop, I don’t work in a vacuum, but in a complicated society. The point of my post was not to shirk resonsibility away from teachers, but to recognize that there is more to the equation than just teaching, and to point out that good teaching, in and of itself, can actually expand the achievement gap.
We can’t even get keyboards and mice for the computers we have. It don’t see mobile PCs in our future. When a bulb in a projector burns out, it’s an act of God to get a replacement the same semester (not that the tech folks aren’t trying…you can’t buy materials with money that’s not there).
Good points about a straight forward formula. Thanks for offering it, Tom.
So, given the view that it’s a red herring, how should Tom’s formula be adjusted to offset the public policy that requires all students to meet certain minimum measurable academic performance standards? This is a real issue, not a hypothetical.
I think Mark’s on point when he writes that he can instruct so all “pass” the minimum academic threshold. That meets the minimum expectation for a teacher under NCLB. Teachers agree to do so by signing annual teaching contracts.
Yes, Kristin, I agree with your inference that teacher ranks and assignments are changing, perhaps in major ways. Some people (ranging from non-certificated to the most schooled and credentialled) use instruction that cuts through the distractions you identify. They fulfill the operational definition of a good teacher regardless of what other teachers think “should” happen.
In this spirit, some schools and districts use mobile PC based instruction to augment classroom instruction. How might that fit into the formula? I expect more schools will use this strategy.
Do these factors fit Tom’s formula? Be clear. You never know who might read and adapt to policy making your posts and comments.
Yes, Mark, many teachers who have a choice choose to teach successful students and usually those students have educated parents, full refrigerators, and warm clothes.
My district is going through the process of auditing who teaches honors, AP, IB students. The results will back up what you say. In my own department, the 4 LA teachers who have their national board certification teach honors/IB. We also teach mainstream classes, because that’s my school’s policy, but the three teachers who teach all mainstream classes do not have their national boards. Not that having the certification means you’re a better teacher, but it is a marker that there’s a difference of some sort between those who teach the motivated and privileged and those who don’t.
So, Bob, there’s one sad result of teachers being told our most important requirement is to bring each child to standard. How many of the legislators who wrote that line and think family doesn’t matter have stood in a room of 30 kids and competed with their gangs, or their addictions, or their evenings surviving abuse, or their malnourished bodies fueled by energy drinks and fast food? It’s not a factor that should be brushed aside by those who make policy. Teachers aren’t bound to the task like Sisyphus. They have a choice. Even those of us who want to stand and deliver spend a lot of time sitting down and crying.
While it’s possible to bring each child to standard regardless of the family/community factor, it’s not going to happen in a class with 38 15-year olds or 30 10-year olds, and it’s not going to happen when incompetent teachers are allowed to stay in the profession.
Bob, I think that is kind of the problem. To the data hounds, it doesn’t matter how we get them to meet standard, but that we do. Hence, the abandonment of arts, vocational education, PE, and so on. I could definitely get all my kids to pass the state test if all I did for the 24 weeks prior to the test was give them practice tests, give them grades, make them redo, then repeat.
But, the state test actually does not cover all of the state and national standards and grade level expectations for the Language Arts. Further, there is the societal expectation of what should be happening in a Language Arts class. We are expected to foster cultural literacy through exposure to literature (also in the standards, but not assessed by the test); we are expected to have students engage in collaborative reading, writing, and research and produce both text and non-print responses (in the standards, not assessed by the state test); we are expected to have students write for a multitude of authentic audiences and purposes (in the standards, but what more inauthentic purpose and audience than a state test?); we are expected to foster critical and functional literacy skills, including for occupational applications (in the standards, not assessed by the state test).
So, I could take my hammer and open the jar… I could do test prep only for 24 weeks and I bet dollars to donuts my kids would all pass. I’m sure it has been done before. I’m lucky that my kids come to me well prepared and as a result I have maybe one or two kids per year not pass the state test…and ALWAYS it is a surprise to me who fails… I have never looked the results and thought, “Yeah, I figured he wouldn’t quite pass.” Should I eschew everything else and disregard the content and curriculum my contract with the school board says I am to teach (even though that content and curriculum actually is not reflected on the state assessment) in order to beat the test drum so that there are none of those “surprises” when test scores are released?
I suppose if my quality as a teacher is assessed by my students’ test scores, I ought to do that.
Or I’ll just teach AP. They all pass the state test anyway.
I share with the sentiment, Travis. Yet, the Federal education policy adopted by states that accept Federal funds is for all students to learn enough to meet minimum academic performance standards as measured by state approved tests. From this policy view, “closing the gap”, etc. are journalistic expressions of the red herring. Federal funds exist for student learning that meets standards, whether or not by “hammer” and definitely not by throwing the topic out the window or letting it sit for a 1000 years. Yes?
One could also take a hammer to the jar to open it. But that begs the question, is the goal to open the jar or be able to eat the pickles? I would apply a similar thinking to students. Is the goal to close the achievement gap on state tests (this seems to be both a catch phrase and the focus of many organizations this decade) or is the goal to have students learn? The two are not mutually exclusive; however, either one could be achieved at the sacrifice of the other.
I know this is nit entirely a response to Tom’s post, but I liked his metaphor and Brian’s response had me evaluating the implications of the metaphor. Again, there are other ways to open th jar: hammer, out the window, let it sit for a 1000 years….
An insightful discussion by informed people. What could be better.
So, let me suggest that the formula also serves as a red herring in discussions about U.S. public school student learning policy, including NCLB. Here’s a sample of a widely held argument some policy makers hold that the formula does not address.
Teachers’ duties by contract require instruction that fits all students in ways that they all meet minimum academic performance standards. Any attempt to lay the blame for students’ failure to meet these standards miss uses of those contracts and leaves teachers vulnerable to complaints of mis- or malpractice.
How do you see adjusting the formula to overcome this argument?
I love this essay.
Here’s another way to increase FC: encourage looping in schools, programs or classes where there are kids with a low support from their family and community. There is a group of students, all of whom are motivating themselves to get through school, who eat lunch in my room every day. They’ve been doing this since they were in my ninth grade LA class. I had them again as tenth graders. One of them is making a serious stab at her IB classes. The others, if not in the IB program, are going to class, staying out of trouble, and looking at colleges. I love these kids and they know it.
Looping requires only two teachers who are willing to flip flop and someone willing to work it into the master schedule.
We can’t replace the attention and encouragement of a parent, but we can boost that factor in the equation if we know our kids well, regardless of how well we teach.
And I am so glad to learn about rolling the jar on the counter. Brian, that was a TQ10 moment!
I have to agree, Nancy; all three factors are variable, not static, and they can influence one another. We play a huge role in changing TM. That’s what keeps the Cals in school. And you and Brian are right; the government’s role is to make it easier for Willy’s mom to quit her second job – the one she keeps only for the benefits – so that she can spend more time with her future architect. Our role is to keep plugging away at the TQ side of the equation, look for each kid’s “sweet spot” and advocate for change in order to improve the FC factor. It’s slow, hard work.
While TQ is a variable with some promise for change–so is TM, which is connected to TQ. It’s possible to tweak TM in classrooms, because all kids have strengths and nearly all kids have a sweet spot where their best can be brought out. FC, on the other hand, is pretty much out of our hands. Or so they say.
The problem with policy is that it puts an artificial weight on all those variables, based on what policymakers think policy can leverage. They can push teachers (and their inherent quality) around quite a bit–you know, hire Bright Young Things (who are also, not coincidentally, Cheap Young Things) and work them to death, that sort of thing. Policymakers don’t have a clue about TM, so they leave that alone (rather than invest in some professional development or making the profession more human-centered). And the one place where policymakers might do some good– increasing employment opportunities, health care for all, decent housing, and so on, they’re falling down on the job. Their weights look like this:
(4) TQ x (1) TM x (1.5) FC= The Best We Can Do. Teachers Must Be Accountable.
Brilliant piece, Tom. I go for a guy with testosterone.
N.
Jars are easy. Hold the jar horizontally over over the edge of a counter. Roll the lid along the edge of the counter while pushing down on the edge of the lid. Sorry, Tom, your wife no longer needs you.
But it’s hard to hold the achievement gap sideways. What if we put in one more factor: SC, for Societal Commitment? Because if we really believe the achievement gap is a result of something we aren’t doing, then we have to do it. Like funding Early Childhood Learning; like offering summer schools that are not punitive; like creating academies within our schools with enriched opportunities; and yes, smaller classes for some groups of children.
Because if we keep doing what we’re doing and expecting different results; well, that’s just crazy.
This is a fascinating way to consider this problem, Tom. I don’t have an answer yet, of course…