By Mark
In our "Race to the Top," some schools are going to be getting a little bit more help.
The U.S. Department of Education's Investing in Innovation "i3" Fund will provide grants to three tiers of applicants: Development grants of up to $5 million, aimed at unproven but promising innovative start-ups; Validation grants of up to $30 million, which will support existing programs which have a proven track record of success; and Scale-up grants of up to $50 million, aimed at expanding current programs whose past performance suggests expansion will result in greater success (source).
Is there a catch? Of course.
But how big a catch is dependent on your inherent cynicism.
The first catch, from my reading, is that the funding of a given grant is contingent on an applicant's ability to secure matching private or public funds on their own. I do know that this is a common element of many grant applications from non-profits or government sources. I understand the purpose of that. But I wonder if this option is inadvertently excluding some potential grantees from the pool on the outset. Most of the schools who are struggling would probably be vying for the Development grants, which would demand securing up to $5 million in matching funds to fully take advantage of the opportunity.
The second catch, when you read it, doesn't automatically sound like a bad thing. In essence, the schools who earn the grants have to have already shown success in their "race to the top."
Perhaps I am too cynical, but I wonder how many of the grants will end up being awarded to schools who are already well on their way in the "Race to the Top," when the schools who would benefit most are those who are struggling to get their efforts off the ground, perhaps due to other complications such as infrastucture failure, huge class sizes, highly mobile and transient populations, or a lack of community financial support for the school.
In this "race," I have this picture in my mind of a literal race…the hurdles are an apt metaphor.
I imagine these runners, each representing a different "school." If we're assuming that all schools really do start at the same starting line, my analogy is already flawed, so when the starting gun fires, our school "racers" may be on the same line, but they're not all equal. One came having eaten a good breakfast–he's had time to train and practice, and he has the best shoes for gripping the track and propelling forward. The second came dressed and ready, so he settles in at the starting blocks. He's never run hurdles before, but thanks to his morning jogs and his natural flexibility, he thinks he'll do just fine. And then there is the runner who has arrived without shoes. He hasn't eaten breakfast yet. In fact, he hasn't had time to train because he's been too busy working several jobs at once. Yet he's told to get in line for the same race as the other two, despite his objection that before he can run a winning race he would like to at least get a pair of shoes.
The race begins, and they run with all their might–just as in every school teachers work hard and put their training to the test. They run hard, but miraculously, how far they get–and how fast–is related to the situation from where they start.
So as the race progresses, it now seems that our runners are going to get a little help. "Fantastic!" thinks the racer in third place, the shoeless runner whose feet by now are aching from the effort and whose shins are bruised from hitting the hurdles, "I could use some help!" But it turns out that the racer in first place is the one who will get the help. After all, he is the racer who has proven the capacity for success. "Keep running, you're doing great!" the organizers say, and they remove the hurdles from his lane. The second place runner is doing okay, so they lower his hurdles a few notches and get out of his way.
But, since the third place racer has neither the skills nor the past track record to show success, he gets not help, but a threat. You see, this racer did not make it to the 50-meter as fast as the runner who was in his lane in the previous race (which, by chance, did not involve hurdles). Our third place runner did not make adequate progress. Now, if he doesn't figure himself out and make it to the 100-meter mark in the right amount of time, not only will he remain shoeless, but further trouble will be around the next curve from the organizers of the race: They'll start raising the hurdles in his lane so he can prove one last time that he can jump. The organizers hope that the fear of higher hurdles will make our last place runner move faster–despite the bruised shins and bloody feet.
Don't get me wrong, those schools who are already excelling certainly deserve the opportunities to be supported for further advancement. But those schools who, despite the best efforts of their teachers and staff, cannot keep their stomachs full or their shoes intact, need something to get them ready for the race. i3 will certainly result in increased student learning, but the learning of which students?
The $650 Million Question: are we just betting on the safety of investing in proven winners, helping to remove the hurdles from the paths of racers who've already shown they can jump? Or, are we willing to put our money into getting all racers ready for the starting line?
Good points, Mark and commenters. Yes, these grants provide a chance for organizations that have demonstrably increased student academic performance to compete for increased funding. They show what’s possible today. That’s rational. That’s leadership. Kudos to those in DEd who successfully advocated for this funding. Best wishes to those trying to qualify for the next round of such funding.
Kristin, your middle paragraph concisely articulates what I was thinking.
I’ve volunteered, interned, or worked in five other buildings, none of which had the same external support as my present building. I would argue that those buildings were populated with talented, hard working teachers as much as my present building is. But, I spend less time trying to convince my students to come to school now than I used to. I spend less time now meeting with the school resource officers and the drug intervention specialists. Because of the relative stability of my current community, I can spend more time teaching.
Two buildings I was in previously were the lowest SES in their respective (urban) school districts. One of those made the news a few years back because about a half dozen girls had been caught prostituting themselves for drugs in the bathrooms… and that was a middle school. The third building I worked in had free-and-reduced rates so high it was actually more cost effective to just subsidize meals for everyone. That building was also about 80-85% L2, with a high migrant/transient population. I just checked online, and all three of these schools are in improvement.
I’d bet those teachers work as hard if not harder than I do to impact student learning. But, the numbers are on my side. If I were to apply for one of these grants, my chances now would be better than when I was in those other buildings. The intervention program in which I work has a six-year track record of success…largely due to the fact that my school and community has the time, energy, and money to support my program. Do we “need” the money the same way they “need” the money. Absolutely not. Will it stop me or teachers in privileged programs like mine from applying for the money? That’s where my conscience troubles me and my gut makes a hypocrite of my heart.
Yes, this is so sad. It seems more like a race to nowhere. While there may have been some original intent to help improve student learning, something got all tangled up in the process and now appears to punish those schools that truly need additional funding, at the same time, those that are managing to stay financial sound often due to their population income will continue to be financed to accommodate their students and staff.
Sadly, I think your interpretation is accurate. Schools not meeting Annual Yearly Progress aren’t eligible for these grants. And, as we explored on an earlier post, the fact that AYP is measured year to year, using different students, means it’s not an accurate gauge of a school’s effectiveness.
And here’s another factor that benefits affluent schools and punishes schools in poverty: it takes a lot of time to write a grant. It takes a lot of time to find matching funds. Few teachers who have maxed-out classes and no aides have time for that – taking care of our students comes first. In my district many of the grants are written down at district headquarters. When the money comes in, a big chunk of it is spent on the salaries of special “teams” down at district headquarters. These think-squads go out to schools and coach, or gather information, or sit in quiet offices and put curriculum together then hand it out to the schools. The money doesn’t go to on-site tutoring, classroom aides, or trained truancy specialists, all things that would help kids succeed in school.
It’s just a cycle of stupidity. It’s also a cycle of maintaining the status quo. Our country and its institutions are still elitist and racist. These grants seem to be easier for those schools who are already privileged.