By Tom

There’s a failing school in my district. I know about it because their service area is right next to ours. We share a boundary. They’ve been failing for several years, so they’ve reached the stage at which their punishment entails a “turnaround.” They have to get rid of their administrator and half of their teachers.

As you might expect, they have a high proportion of students living in poverty (over 80%) and a large number of English language learners (over 40%). As you might not expect, they also have a lot of great teachers. Teachers who are really good at teaching high-needs students.

But apparently they’re not good enough.

Last week, my district sent an email to every elementary teacher, telling us about the situation and inviting us to become a part of the team that will take on this exciting challenge. They also explained the plan that will guide this team’s work over the next several years. They borrowed the plan from a school they visited; one of those 90/90/90 schools, where high-poverty students earn high scores on high-stakes tests. I looked it over and gave it some thought.

First of all, let’s pretend, for the sake of argument, that I’m a good teacher with something to offer this particular population of students. Why would I want to? “The Plan” essentially involves teaching reading and math all day long. Social studies is apparently rolled into the literacy instruction, but art and science aren’t. The students get to have art or science once a month on a Friday afternoon. Why would I want to move to a school where all I do is teach basic literacy and numeracy skills? More importantly, why would the students want to endure this? What did they do to deserve it?

Besides that, imagine the morale at that school. Let’s face it; morale is down in every public school right now. But imagine it being a lot worse. Imagine what it would be like if three years ago you had to send letters home to the parents, informing them that your school is bad. Then two years ago, you told the parents that your school is so bad that they can have their kids bused to another, better school. Then last year, you had to tell them that your school is so bad that their kids can get free, after school tutoring to make up for it. And now you have to tell them that your school is so bad that half the staff has to leave.

Imagine the morale.

But despite all that; despite the bland curriculum and low morale, I was still giving it some serious thought. I like challenges. My wife, however, killed the idea. Despite all evidence to the contrary, she seems to think my presence at home is a good thing. And when I’m not home, she’d like to think I’m at least being paid for not being there. She read “The Plan” and knows full well that working at this school would take a lot more time than the nine hours per day I spend working at my current school.

Unpaid time.

I’ve got nothing against accountability. I work hard to achieve results. And I’m in favor of data-driven decision making. But seriously, is this the best we can do? With a country as talented and resourceful as ours, can’t we come up with a better way to assist high-need students than punishing them for their parents’ poverty by making them endure a dull curriculum and a forced exodus of their teachers?

And do we really think these teachers are the problem? Is it their fault that the students don’t come to school speaking English? Is it their fault that the parents of their students can’t read the homework that their children are trying to complete? Is it their fault that the kids entering their kindergarten are already a year behind the kids entering our kindergarten? For that matter, is it the teachers’ fault that over half the kids with whom they begin the year are gone by June?

If we as a profession accomplish nothing else this year, we need to pressure Washington to overhaul and rewrite ESEA.

It was supposed to help kids.

It’s not working.