By Tom

I was standing in the faculty room one morning, waiting for the coffee to brew. Two colleagues were talking about principals they’d worked with, and one of them said to me, “Tom, you would be a great principal. I would love to work in your school.”

She should have waited until I had some of that coffee. I would have been a lot less blunt. “Really? because the first thing I’d do would be to fire you.”

Choosing to believe that I was speaking facetiously, she laughed nervously and hurried off.

(Fun fact: the word facetiously has every vowel, in order, including Y!)

Actually, I wasn’t kidding. If I really was a principal and she really was on my faculty, I really would fire her. She was a bad teacher. Ineffective. Weak.

But it would have been difficult.

Continue reading →

By Tom

For some reason, teachers tend to pair up. Maybe it’s because, like cops, we need someone to back us up. Maybe. Perhaps the two of you have the same teaching style and you love to plan together. Or maybe you started teaching at the same time in the same school and you’re the only two from “that generation.”

Ot it could be that your principal assigned the two of you to work the same grade level five years ago and you’ve been stuck together ever since.

Whatever the reason, most of us are lucky not to have to go it alone. We’ve got a partner.

Last week, the better half of my partnership received some bad news from her oncologist. She’s having some major surgery next week and will be gone from her classroom for a long time.

So what does her partner do? A lot:

• Offer – no, insist – on working with her sub to plan lessons and assessments.
• Stay in touch. Daily.
• Get her students to write cards
• Donate sick leave
• Bring food
• Be there when she gets back to help with the transition

We’re not in this alone. We need each other, sometimes more than ever.

And while I’m at it, today is the second-best day of the year to do something about your half of the partnership. Teaching, done correctly, is not a sedentary profession. We’re not exactly stevedores, bricklayers or centerfielders, but we don’t just sit there. At least we shouldn’t.

So get healthy. Stay healthy. Do it for yourself, your family, and your students.

Do it for your partner.

By Tom

I fell through the ceiling one afternoon. I was up there laying wire from one room to another. Although I had been very careful to stay on the rafters as I brought the wire to its destination, I got a little sloppy on the way back. Passing over our main hallway, I stumbled down onto the ceiling itself and crashed through. The result was a huge mess on the floor and a huge hole in the ceiling.

I stepped from the rubble ashamed and discouraged, awaiting the wrath of a vengeful wife. Au contraire. This was the break she'd been waiting for. After campaigning for years to get the “horrible popcorn ceiling” removed, we now had a reason to get the ceiling of her dreams. My stupidity was her bonanza. Twelve hundred dollars later, the hole was fixed and my wife was delighted.

The state of Washington, along with the rest of the country, has fallen through its own financial ceiling. We’re broke. Federal stimulus money has put off the inevitable for the past two years, but reality has now set in. In order to balance the state budget, class sizes will increase and salaries won’t.

Not unlike my wonderful wife, some people look at this disaster and see a golden opportunity. If we’re going to lay off teachers – and we are – why not lay off the ones who deserve it? Let’s keep the good teachers and fire the bad, regardless of seniority.

A recent story in the Seattle Times gets right to the point: “…student achievement after seniority-based layoffs would drop by an estimated 2.5 to 3.5 months of learning per student, when compared to laying off the least effective teachers.” This comes from a study by Dan Goldhaber and his colleagues, out of the University of Washington’s Center for Education data and Research. Using Value-Added Methodology, Goldhaber compared the 1,717 teachers who were given RiF notices last year with a comparable number of teachers who would be laid off if the decision was made purely on the basis of teacher effectiveness. As it turned out, almost all of 1,717 teachers kept their jobs, at least for now, but Goldhaber went to a lot of time and trouble figuring out that had we actually laid them off, we would be far worse off than had we laid off an equivalent number of lousy teachers.

There’s a lot to think about here.

Continue reading →

By Tom

In my house we have two television sets. There’s a small one in the family room. Its sole purpose is to broadcast baseball games. I control that set. Then there’s the other one. The big one in the living room. My wife controls that set.

So it was when I walked into the living room the other day to eat my lunch. My wife was watching a show called Tabitha’s Salon Takeover. Although there had to be Something Better On, I was doomed to watch it. It’s a reality show featuring a famous hairdresser (Tabitha) who goes around the country fixing up failing beauty salons.

Let me explain at this point that I have absolutely no interest in hair. My personal regimen entails a daily shampooing and a weekly, self-administered trim, using a set of $17.00 clippers set to the shortest length. I treat my hair to no more attention than I give my toenails.

As you can surmise, I’m probably not among the target audience for Tabitha’s show. Nevertheless, I found myself captivated.

You see, it was really not about hair. It was about analyzing a dysfunctional system and fixing it.

Continue reading →

By Tom

I turned into a baby bird this week. That’s not to say I became a soft, cuddly bundle of fluff. Hardly. More like a greedy, self-serving, fratricidal maniac.

I’m no ornithologist, but from what I understand about bird families, the babies spend their days waiting for their parents to return with food. At which point they chirp loudly, push their siblings aside and compete vigorously for limited resources. They don’t look out for each other. They know full well that there won’t be enough food to go around. Their survival hinges on being more aggressive than the others. 

Baby birds frequently push their weaker siblings out of the nest.

This week, Governor Gregoire unveiled her budget. It’s harsh. Public education, which claims the biggest share of state expenditures, coincidentally took the biggest hit. Among other things, early learning will get cut, classes will get larger, teacher pay will stay put, and National Board Certification bonuses will be suspended. Her budget will have a negative impact on Washington State teachers, and by proxy, the learning conditions of their students.

There’s no disputing the fact that her budget comes in response to horrible fiscal conditions. Washington is supported by a sales tax, so when people stop buying things, the state goes broke. That’s what happened. It’s not the governor’s fault, and it’s not the legislature’s fault. If anyone’s to blame, it’s us, for consistently voting down tax increases.

The governor’s budget is only the opening salvo in what promises to be a long, ugly battle. There will be two more budgets, one from each house, and the final product will be a compromise between the three. It's safe to say, though, that this governor’s budget will pretty much frame the debate.

It will be rancorous. Everyone with a stake in the state budget will be chirping loudly in an effort to convince lawmakers that they need a bigger slice of the dwindling pie. That’s called lobbying.

Educators are no different. Like it or not, we are state employees; the conditions under which we work are determined by the legislature. We need to convince them that the budget has to reflect the importance of early learning, small class sizes, adequate pay and a commitment to professional standards.

No one else will bother. If we don’t say it, it won’t get said.

And meanwhile, advocates for state parks, state prisons, state roads and state healthcare will be stating their cases. Loudly and persistently.

Don’t get me wrong; I have nothing against parks, prisons, roads and hospitals. But I trust their advocates to adequately represent my interests. My primary interest in this debate will be education, and that's where I plan to focus my attention.

You should join me. We should contact our lawmakers and let them know how important it is to fully fund education. We should do it often and emphatically, knowing full well that competing interests will be doing the same.

There’s a temptation to pity the governor and the legislature for having to make the tough choices. Resist it. This is what they were begging to be able to do. Remember those yard signs? Those ubiquitous and annoying campaign commercials? That was them trying to convince us that they have what it takes to make tough decisions. Which is what they’re going to be doing.

There’s another temptation to “Take the High Road.” Resist that, too. Most of the time, “taking the high road” is code for doing nothing. Being lazy. “Taking the high road” comes from a song about walking to Scotland. Walking. Not sitting there, doing nothing. So don’t tell me you’re “taking the high road.” Get down here in the low road with the rest of us and beg.

Beg for your students. Beg for your colleagues and for yourselves. And speaking of temptations, here’s some musical inspiration to get you motivated. Or try this, in case you prefer The Stones' slightly ironic and far more chaotic version.

Either way, get busy and beg.

By Tom

I woke up this morning to the sound of rain pouring off the side of the gutter. Not an unpleasant sound, but certainly the sound of a problem that needed to be addressed. So after breakfast I walked out into the rain with my step-stool and reached up to where the gutter meets the downspout. Sure enough, there was a handful of stuff blocking the opening. I removed it, and was rewarded with the sound of water rushing out of the gutter and down the spout. Problem solved.

That’s exactly the way we like our problems: Easily recognized, and elegantly solved. Particularly – and I say this with all due respect – if you happen to be a guy. We love the idea of a Silver Bullet; a quick, elegant solution to a difficult problem.

Unfortunately, most of our biggest problems aren’t solved that way. They might be easily recognized, but they aren’t so elegantly solved.

Take education, for example. We’ve long recognized that some students do really well in the American education system and some don’t. We’ve also noticed that the better-performing students tend to come from well-educated, gainfully-employed parents. And, unfortunately, visa-versa.

That’s the problem. And that’s been the problem for at least the 27 years I’ve been teaching. The question, of course, is how to solve it.

Fortunately, we know that the biggest factor determining a student’s success is teacher quality. Getting good teachers into every classroom, then, becomes the solution. But how?

Continue reading →

By Tom

Whether you like it or not, bit by bit, Ed Reform is happening. As it stands now, Ed Reform means more accountability using student test scores, merit pay using student test scores, more competition in the form of charter schools and their ilk, and alternative routes to teacher certification. Ed Reform is changing the way you perform your job, the way you're evaluated and the way you're paid.

Ed Reform may or may not be improving education in America. But it is definitely changing it. If you teach, you don't want Ed Reform to take you by surprise. You want to be prepared. You want to survive.

Here are your options:

1. Transfer to a better, higher-performing school. This should solve most of your problems, as Ed Reform will primarily focus on low-performing schools. It isn't difficult to find a high performing school; most major newspapers happily list them on their websites. These schools are usually found in nice, leafy suburbs, where every child has two parents, nutritious food and a zoo pass.

There are some problems with this option. First of all, you're a teacher, so you probably can't afford to live anywhere near these schools. Your commute will be hellacious. Besides that, transfers are based on seniority, so you'll find plenty of competition if and when a spot opens up.

2. Switch to a charter school. Charter schools are the darlings of Ed Reformers. The mavericks, if you will. They take public funds and use them to teach the heck out of kids that really, really want to be there. Results have been mixed, but the folks who work at these places are quite enthusiastic.

You may, however, be working outside a collective bargaining agreement. You may find yourself working longer days, longer weeks and longer years. This may eventually burn you out. And you'll be measured by metrics that your boss thinks are appropriate, which means you'll be fired if you don't measure up to them. And if your school doesn't fulfill the terms of its contract with the district or state, the school goes away. Along with your job.

Continue reading →

By Tom

In response to the growing disparity between Americans who have modern, functional water and sewer systems in their homes and those who don't, a new organization has taken on the challenge: Plumb for America.

Plumb for America (PFA) has a very simple goal: to bridge the "plumbing gap" that keeps low-income urban and rural Americans from enjoying the same high-quality plumbing that middle and upper-class America takes for granted.

The strategy they use to pursue that goal, however, is quite unique. They take bright, energetic college graduates and put them through an intense, five-week "summer institute." The institute is designed to give them a background of basic plumbing techniques and concepts. From there, these "plumbers" are placed around the country, into areas where the plumbing is sub-standard and where experienced plumbers with traditional training are hard to find.

PFA plumbers agree to serve for two years, during which time they are supported by PFA coaches who help them solve some of the problems that come up in their work. PFAs get the same wages as journeymen plumbers, along with up to ten thousand dollars in college-debt relief.

They also get to "Make a difference," according to Pat Wabash, who recently graduated from Cornell University with a BA in Romance Languages, "I really wasn't sure what I was going to do when I graduated, but PFA has given me a chance to get some valuable work experience. Who knows, I might even decide to keep plumbing after my two years are up!"

Results have been mixed. Some homeowners are taken in by the enthusiasm and "can-do" attitude PFAs bring to the job site. "We had a PFA guy come out here last week to fix our toilet," said Mark Loftus, from Detroit, "It wouldn't stop running. He brought a bunch of tools in, along with some pipes and other gear, and after three hours he figured out that the little rubber flapper at the bottom of the tank was leaking. He put in a new one, and what do you know; it stopped running!"

PFA intentionally places its plumbers in so-called "high-needs" areas; places where most plumbers are reluctant to set up business. "It's been awhile since we've seen any plumbers in this part of Detroit," says Loftus, "Without PFA, I would have had to fix that toilet myself."

Other customers have had less positive experiences. Becky Winthrup, from Dalton, Georgia called upon PFA to renovate the hot water system in her turn-of-the-century farmhouse. "This gal shows up, she must of been twenty-one, twenty-two years old, around 4:30 in the morning, just raring to go. She tears out all the old plumbing and starts replacing it with 2-inch PVC tubes. Now I'm no plumber, but I've never heard of anyone using 2-inch PVC for their hot water supply, so I asked her about it. She got kind of defensive and told me that PFA encourages them to 'think outside the box' and use their imagination when solving problems."

What started out as a simple renovation turned into a three-month nightmare for Winthrup, who lives on a fixed income. The new hot water system had almost no pressure and began to leak from the beginning. "I had to get a real plumber to come in and re-do it correctly with half-inch pipe. It ended up costing me a fortune. And when I contacted PFA, they told me that the plumber who did the original work quit to go back to grad school and they couldn't do anything about it. They did apologize, though, and that was nice."

Despite their uneven record, PFA is expanding into new areas, thanks in part to a generous grant from the US Department of Housing and Urban Development. They're currently trying to place 50 plumbers in the Seattle area, even though the region is flooded with well-trained plumbers who can't find jobs.

Steve Milner, from the Seattle Area Pipe and Steamfitters Association, complains, "For every job that opens up, we've got at least 800 applicants, every one of whom has completed a legitimate two-year apprenticeship program. And now we've got these kids from PFA. They think they know what they're doing after a five-week course. They want to come in here, take these jobs for two years and then leave? I don't get it."

And neither do I. 

By Tom

For me, it's the minutia. The trivia. The day-to-day cycle of planning, teaching, assessing and reflection. Doing it all day long. And doing it all over again the next day.

Take last Wednesday, for example. My third graders are learning how to count money. We started our math lesson by reviewing the value of each coin. Then I presented them with a page that listed the prices of a bunch of school supplies. They picked partners and took turns being the customer and the shopkeeper. The customer picked two items, the shopkeeper added up the prices, the customer counted out the cost using play money, and the shopkeeper checked their work. Both students recorded the whole process on their papers. Then they switched roles for the next round. It was a tricky lesson to teach. I had to model the process several times; enough to get them to see how it was done, but not so much that they'd grow bored, stop listening and not know how to do it. During the partner work I had to make another critical decision. At just the right time, I wanted to stop it to see what they could do on their own. It meant watching the clock and watching my students at the same time, ready to call them back to their own seats as soon as they seemed to get it and with just enough time before lunch for them to play a round by themselves.

That lesson went perfectly. I ended up with 27 kids knowing exactly how to count out bills and coins to make exact change. Of course, the last thing we need is a whole generation of shoppers holding the rest of us up at the checkstand while they count coins out from their little rubber coin purses.

For the sake of the rest of us, these people needed to know about making change.

That, then, was Thursday's lesson. The activity was similar, but this time the customer paid in bills only, and the shopkeeper had to count back the change. Counting on with change, however, is harder than counting up; you have to use pennnies first, to get to an "easy number," then nickels and dimes until you can start using quarters. While I was modeling the process, I got the impression that they weren't quite getting it. I decided we wouldn't go into the partner activity on Thursday; they just weren't ready. I made a decision to keep practicing as a whole class and stretching the lesson into a second day.

Good call. They got a little bored with Thursday's activity, but they were totally ready for the partner work on Friday. And when I called them back to their own seats to do a round of "counting on" by themselves, they all demonstrated mastery. I couldn't have been more pleased.

Those three lessons illustrate the complicated dance of teaching. Negotiating the variables of time, curriculum, pacing, and student engagement to maximize learning. It takes detailed planning, good curriculum, careful observation and experience.

It's not easy, and it to an outsider, it might not look very exciting, but when you get it right there's nothing else like it. It's the most fun thing in the world. It's about helping a group of children understand how to do something worthwhile. Effectively and efficiently.

That's teaching. And that's why I teach.

 
By Tom

I've been back from Pakistan for almost a week now, and as I reflect on some of the differences between us and them, I keep thinking back to a conversation I had with a guy I met outside a conference room. He had these cool shoes on, but they didn't look comfortable.

"I like your shoes," I said, "Are they comfortable?"

"No, they aren't; not after the first hour."

"That's kinda what I thought, just by looking at them."

Then he took the conversation up a notch. "I heard you speak during the panel discussion this morning, and I've got a question about America."

Uh-oh.

"How did you make it across the gap?"

I wasn't really sure which gap he was talking about, but after a few minutes I learned that he was a medical doctor, interested in education and he was talking about the gap between a largely illiterate nation where teachers don't make a living wage and a country where everyone can go to school and where the teachers are well-paid professionals.

This went well beyond conference-hallway small-talk, but I hung in there.

Continue reading →