By Tom
I use a lot of small group activities in my classroom. After I teach a concept, I like to put my students into groups of three to do an activity in which they get a chance to discuss the concepts and practice the skills I've taught them before I ask them to demonstrate their learning individually. It's a strategy that works pretty well.
To get my students into functional groups, I'll get out my set of Popsicle sticks, each with a student's name printed on it. Then I'll divide my sticks into three groups; the group on the right represents the kids who I expect will have understood the concepts and skills, as well as the instruction for the activity they'll be asked to do. I'll be counting on them to be the leaders in their group. The sticks in the middle represent the kids who may or may not go into the activity with a complete understanding of the material. I'm hoping that the chance to process it with their peers will complete their understanding. The sticks on the left are the kids who will probably need the most support. Hopefully, hearing their peers present the information in a different way and in a small group will fill in the holes for these students. After dividing the sticks into three groups, I'll form my groups by picking a stick from each pile, with consideration for who does and doesn't work well together.
A few years ago I had a student named Laura. Her stick was consistently in the pile on the right. She was a bright, hard working kid who also possessed great communication skills. She knew how to express her ideas without being bossy, and she knew how to listen to other people without compromising the correct answers. She was an ideal student. She was also extremely talented in music, playing first violin for the local youth symphony when she was only in third grade.
And it didn't end there. Her dad was a hard-working engineer-type who kept her motivated and well-practiced in regards to music, and her mom, a nurse who had taken a decade off from her career to raise the family, was the backbone of our PTA, volunteered twice a week in my classroom (the only volunteer I had!) and chaperoned on every field trip. This was a family committed to their children and their school community.
But then they left. Our district has a choice school. One where each parent has to commit to several volunteer hours each week. It's a great school, with great teachers, motivated students and supportive parents. Not surprisingly, due to the miracle of self-selection, the test scores are in the stratosphere. They hold a lottery for their openings, and Laura won.
I don't begrudge them their success; I have friends who teach there and friends whose kids go there, and I'm glad we offer this choice to the families in our district. I'm glad for Laura and her classmates. They're getting an excellent education. On the other hand, I often lament what this choice school leaves behind. For every Laura that enters the choice school, there's one less Laura in the regular schools. One less member of the PTA. One less volunteer in the classroom and chaperone on the field trip.
We don't have charter schools in this state. They were resoundingly rejected twice by our voters. The closest thing we have are choice schools like the one in my district. Like choice schools, charter schools generally appeal to parents who want something more than what is offered at the local public school.
And like choice schools, most charter schools have higher achievement scores than regular public schools. It's unclear exactly why. Charter school enthusiasts insist that it's due to what's actually happening in the schools. Others counter that it has more to do with self-selection. They claim that parents with the wherewith-all, ambition and inclination to pull their children out of their local school and negotiate the waiting lists and transportation logistics required to get them into choice or charter schools are also the type of parents who would insist that their kids do their homework and show up at school rested, fed and ready to learn.
Who knows? But consider this: Our new president and his Secretary of Education look favorably upon the charter school movement. They both come from Illinois, where they've apparently seen them implemented successfully. So now they're using federal stimulus money as leverage to get more states to offer charter schools.
So what do we do? Go for the money and try again to offer charter schools as an option to regular public schools? Or do we hold the line, refuse the money and focus on improving all of our local public schools. I guess I prefer the later. I have no problem with choices, but I worry about running out of Popsicle sticks to put into that pile on the right.
I’m starting to feel the parent quandary, too. I live 25 miles from the district in which I teach. Where I live is much, much lower in SES, in a district which larger classes, more crime, lower test scores…all the data points at a “lower quality” learning environment. My oldest is still a year out from starting kindergarten, and I know that I would be granted a boundary exception to take my kid to kindergarten in the district where teach. On one hand, the local kindergarten is in our community elementary school…my district would be a half-hour drive each way each day. The district where I teach is gifted with tremendous parent support, programs for high achievers, and many unique opportunities. My home district cannot boast the same, partly because it is one of dozens of schools in a massive (and massively underfunded) suburban district.
Not to sound arrogant or to assume my own kids will be Lauras…but my wife and I are some of “those people” who value education and will be involved…perhaps overly…in my sons’ education, which means participating in class projects, volunteer programs, etc. In the district where I teach, we’d be one of dozens of similar parents. In our neighborhood school, based on the research we’ve done, we wouldn’t have as much company. I’m really torn…luckily I have another year to mull it over.
I find Mark’s argument rather thought-provoking…I had never thought about it from that angle, but the more I think about it the more true that seems to be also of my classrooms.
However, I am always discouraged to see some of our best students and most supportive families going elsewhere because they don’t feel enough is being offered for their student. But on the otherhand, I feel that as a parent I would do the same thing. How could you not seek the best offered for your own children when you do everything you can each day to offer the best to other’s children?
To elaborate a bit further on my previous post, I actually believe that homogenous classrooms are more effective in many situations. I think after 6th grade, students should be tracked into courses which challenge them based on their present skills (not unlike a mathematics sequence at the secondary level) as opposed to broad grade-level standards. No high school would consider allowing a pre-calculus sophomore in the same math class as a pre-algebra age peer. Why is the same not true in other disciplines?
I’ve digressed, but my question can be broadened out to the question about charter/choice schools and the loss of the Lauras, though I think when kids leave buildings altogether, that’s more trouble than when the skimming happens within the building from one program to another. Let’s be honest here, with the loss of the Lauras comes the loss of the parents willing to put in their own time to do the 45 minute slide show. If you chart “parental involvement in the school” on one axis of a graph and “the academic performance of that parent’s child” to suggest the relationship is not essentially linear would mean someone’s breaking their back to be politically correct…yes there are exceptions, but let’s be honest here…the kids whose parents are most involved in volunteering or school support are generally the kids who are doing better in school. With the loss of the Lauras (from the building altogether, not just from one class) the school loses the parent advocates, which to me is far more devastating to the school, classroom, and climate than the loss of the Laura.
It feels like my argument has gone full circle and now I’m not sure what I believe about charter/choice schools… such a complicated and confusing web of variables this education business is.
For me it is also tough because, as a teacher, I tend to view my son’s education through teaching eyes. We have a good neighborhood school in the sense that it is being populated by many of the children in our area even though it is extremely low-income and had terrible test scores only 5 years ago.
I would send my sons to this school. However, given my teacher paradigm, the school to which I did send my sons has a K-12 program and that, I felt, was crucial to my sons’ success both socially and academically.
Would I have been happy at the neighborhood school? Yes. However, the other school had 13 years of future in one location and that community and relationship building is important to me.
One approach to managing the needs of a heterogeneous group of students (of which every class is composed) is to “cluster” the highest performing Lauras together, so that they can support and inspire each other, and create mixed ability groups of the rest of the class. The benefits to the high achievers can be greater when they work with peers, and the middle and lower end students can benefit from the type of interactions Mark Gardner mentioned in his comment. I’m too conflicted to comment on the practice of pulling those most gifted students out of classes or schools (as a teacher and parent of a gifted child). When they’ve not yet been pulled, though, this sort of grouping can be beneficial.
Excellent point, Kelly. When we talk about “matching” a school and a student, we’re sometimes kidding ourselves. Laura may have found a good match, but her classmates simply boarded a bus that dropped them off at the local grade school. That’s not matching. And when Laura left, that local school (despite the rise of Joey) got worse. There’s no other way to look at it. And let me reiterate; I don’t begrdge Laura’s family any more than I begrudge Travis’ family. I may have looked at it differently before I became a parent, but not now. If you can do something that’s good for your children, you should do it, despite whatever tragedy befalls the commons. My wife and I moved to a better negihborhood after our first son was born, knowing full well that our leaving was bad for the families who stayed. Too bad; our family was too important.
On the other hand, I have a huge problem with people who look at the acheivement scores generated by choice schools and charter schools and use that data to make important decisions about all public schools. The president wants to spend our grandchildren’s money on more charter school programs because he sees that the kids who go there do better on their standardized tests. He thinks that this will create a competitive environment that will be good for all schools. No, it won’t. If we’re going to print money to help schools, it should at least go to those schools that need it the most; schools like the one where Kelly works.
I think it boils down to the central argument of the Tragedy of the Commons (Hardin, 1968). Basically, the idea is that when individuals act on their own self-interest it poses a dilemma for what is needed for society as a whole. I agree it would be fabulous if children and schools were matched well. I had that, at a progressive independent school after my local public school couldn’t adapt to my needs at a time when there were no choice programs or schools. I want to support those students and their families who show initiative to seek out what they need to succeed educationally, but I worry mightily about those left behind and about my own capacity to meet their needs.
I want to be really careful here, because I feel many parents are doing the best they can, but what is the ideal match between student and school when there is little, if any, parental support for education? Who advocates for that kid and is the public willing to pay what it will take for them to be on a level playing field with their peers in more stable and educationally supportive environments?
The self-selection process can happen without even having a charter or choice school. In my high-poverty middle school, efforts have been taken to identify any student with reasonable dose of motivation and place them in honors classes. As a result, mainstream classes are not only drained of the Lauras, they’re increasingly drained of the Joeys, too. What’s the plan for the remaining group? Does the public see these students as expendable? Of course, a disproportionate number of students of color, poverty, and second language learners can be found in this group.
Self-selection. My sons attend self-selected schools. All public, but requiring an application process. To go through the application; to put in the work to complete the steps; to be organized; to want to have your students go “somewhere” different; and to be okay with the style of an application school puts you in a category more similar to the other people who apply. Typically, when like minded people gather together, they tend to be able to get more done simply because (1) they agree more often and (2) they do more for the school in terms of volunteering because they agree more often and know that the only way to get such-and-such a program or resource into the school is to make it happen from the parent angle.
For example, today, my middle school was in an hour long play with his kindergarten class. Memorized lines, narrator, costumes, props. All of this was made possible by the volunteer efforts of the parents. Huge time commitment on our part, but since we are like minded and come from similar backgrounds or have similar philosophies, there is very little that we would not do to make the class a success.
For example, I am currently putting together a 45 minute slide show of the school year. Do I need to? No. But it is part of the culture of what I do for each class my sons have. It is part of the reflective nature of students looking back on their growth, seeing themselves in September when they look so little compared to how they look now.
My sons attend a public school, but an application public school. There are “rules” but the school runs in a much more laid back fashion. Maturity and doing what is best for the team are encouraged. It is amazing how well this system works although there is a lack of any posted Code of Conduct signs, and there are no demarcations on how students are to travel up and down the stairs.
In the end, I think it is not the school. I think it is what match is made between the school and the student (family). Any school will work. The trick (and the goal of the parents) is to find that beneficial educational marriage. I attended a school that none of my friends did because the school they went to did not match what I needed. However, it worked well for them (I hated it).
Great point, Mark. I hadn’t even thought about it from that angle. But I bet you’re right. I bet that when someone like Laura takes off, someone else fills her place at the top. But not always. And that also touches on Mom’s question. Do we need the top kids to stay in our traditional schools? I would argue that we do. I can honestly say that having that family leave our school left a mark. I’m not sure how much of that a school can take, which is why charter schools make me a little nervous. The other half of Mom’s question is really the most important. As parents we have an obligation to make the best decisions we can for our children, even when those decisions have consequences for the greater society. So do we promote greater school choice, thereby benefiting those families that can avail themselves of the benefits provided by that choice, or do we limit choice, so that traditional schools can remain relatively safe from the flight of those families?
In one sense, I agree with the need for Lauras in a traditional school/classroom. On the flip side, though I find an argument that is more compelling for me. I’ve seen situations where the Lauras are cherry picked away (be it by running start, AP or honors, private schools, etc.) and what more often than not happens is that a silent Joey suddenly becomes a Laura…and I didn’t realize that the Joey was a Laura. The Joey was reserved, quiet, and don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that the Laura was oppressing the Joey or inhibiting his growth (and I’m not playing a gender game here, either). But the Joey had a kernel of leadership potential and some drive and a good work ethic. Suddenly, when the Joey feels pride at being the “top of the class” he starts performing even better. That sense of “top of the class,” quite frankly, is wasted on those who’ve always been tops, who really probably don’t need it as motivation… I wonder about this idea that the “high achieving” kids are necessarily necessary for the “bottom” kids. Do the bottom kids really pay attention? Do they secretly want to emulate the Laura? Will they cease to work or learn if the Laura is not there to model “the way it ought to be?” No offense to the Lauras of the world, but I’ve found that on the days the Laura is absent, the Joey and the Susie and the Bobby sometimes get a bit more attention, are a bit more willing to speak up. I teach some classes where the Lauras have all been skimmed off the top, and contrary to what some research attempts to suggest, I’ve actually seen better performance from the non-Lauras because rather than stretch my time thin to cover the whole spectrum of needs I am able to focus on a rather homogenous group with quite similar needs.
As for the loss of volunteers and active parents, I actually think that this is a greater loss to the school than the loss of Laura. I think that perhaps Laura would find herself underserved, but again to flip the coin, I bet even the “worst” public schools can list a few doctors and lawyers and successful folks amongst their alumni.
Tom,
Do you think traditional schools need “Lauras?” Or do you think “Lauras” need the traditional school?