By Tom

I’ve always had a loose relationship with Memorial Day. I
loved celebrating it, of course; what’s not to love about a three day weekend?
But the meaning of Memorial Day was always somewhat abstract, probably because
I’ve never actually had a member of my family die in battle. I had a
great-great grandfather who survived the Civil War (he was a Confederate
private), my grandfather’s family fled the Ukraine to avoid the Russo-Japanese
War, my father missed World War II but ended up on an aircraft carrier during
the Korean War. And although the pilots who took off from his ship didn’t
always make it back, he never saw any direct action. As for myself, I was
fourteen when Vietnam ended. Thank God.

So growing up, Memorial Day has never meant much more to me than a long
weekend in May.

As a teacher, I’ve always marked Memorial Day with an
explanation of what it means and what we’re supposed to be honoring with our
day off. And since I work with young children, they have always been eager to
share their stories of relatives who died in war. (Or simply died, although I
try to move those stories along) This has been a staple of my May lesson plans
for decades.

Recently, however, my Memorial Day lesson has become a little
awkward, and it has to do with where I work.

Continue reading →

By Tom
White

It's over. My students have prepared for and taken the 2013 fourth
grade Measurement of Student Progress. It's now behind us. Let me offer a few
observations and reflections, based solely on my students' experiences:

-The adults seemed a lot more anxious and stressed out than the
students. Maybe it's because they were so well-prepared. Or maybe because their
evaluations aren't riding on the results. Or maybe it's because they're just
kids and they haven't learned to take everything seriously yet. Whatever the
reason, my students simply came in, sat down, listened to the directions, did
the work and read quietly until everyone was done.

-For some reason the narrative writing prompt was the same as one
of the released prompts from a few years ago. That was weird. In a good way, at
least for my students, since we used it as a practice exercise a few days
earlier. I'm not sure if the test writers goofed up or just ran out of ideas.

-Watching kids take an hour-long test is really boring. I'm used
to being incredibly busy for seven hours straight when I'm at work. Boredom is
something I only dream about, but when it finally came, it was horrible.

-I find it insulting that teachers aren't allowed to look at
student tests to see how they did. There's a lot of useful information in there.
I have no intention of changing any answers; I just want to see what the
answers are.

-While reading the directions for the math test, I noticed that it
listed protractors among the approved, supplemental materials. I stopped the
proceedings and sent someone down to the office to get a class set of
protractors. I didn't see anyone using their protractor for any constructive
purpose, and after the test, I asked my students if they actually needed them.
They didn't. Well played, OSPI; well played.

-And finally, this: Like most schools, we did everything we could
to maximize our students' testing performance. We rearranged schedules to
provide for long, uninterrupted blocks of time, we sent home letters to the
parents, asking them to make sure their kids got plenty of sleep, exercise and
nutritious food. We provided snacks during the tests, to make sure they weren't
hungry. We even ensured that there were no intercom or phone calls in the rooms
where kids were testing.

We did it all.

Which made me wonder: why don't we take learning as seriously as
we take testing? Why don't we make sure our kids are rested and well fed when
they're learning? Why don't we post signs on the doors saying, "Quiet!
Learning in progress!" Why don't we make sure kids aren't having recess
right outside the windows when we're teaching? And why don't we make sure
phones and intercoms don't interrupt our lessons?

I have no idea.

By Tom White

For over half a century the Council of Chief State School
Officers (CCSO) has chosen a National Teacher of the Year from among the state
Teachers of the Year. After meeting the president and getting a large glass
apple, they get to spend the year traveling around the country representing the
teaching profession to large and small audiences.

It’s a huge honor. And even though there’s obviously no way
that anyone could select the very best teacher in the country, given the
enormity of the task, they always seem to find someone who really does
represent the best aspirations and qualities of all of us in the classroom.

This year, for the fourth time since the program started, a
Washington State teacher has been selected. Jeff Charbonneau, a science teacher
from Zillah, joins Andrea Peterson (2007), Johnnie T. Dennis (1970), and Elmon
S. Ousley (1963) as Washington recipients of the top honor.

And it couldn'y happen to a better guy. Jeff teaches chemistry in the same small,
Eastern Washington community from which he graduated, but he does a lot more than that. He designs
on-line college courses, teaches robotics, coaches the baseball team and runs
the drama program. He earned National Board Certification a few years ago and
is also his union’s co-president.

And you thought you were busy?

It’s always fun to see someone from the profession take
center stage for a while; reminding the world of just how unique and important this
profession is. And to have it happen to someone from our state makes it
especially gratifying.

Congratulations, Mr. Charbonneau! You do us proud.

By Tom White

Chad Aldeman, an analyst and blogger for the Education
Sector, recently wrote about Washington’s teacher evaluation system. It’s an
interesting read. You can cut to the chase by looking at his blog post here,
or if you’re feeling ambitious, you can tackle the whole article here.

His basic point is that Washington State judges an
overwhelming majority of its teacher as satisfactory, regardless of their
students’ achievement. He calls this the “Evergreen Effect” which is a
reference to “The Widget Effect,” a phenomenon in which education policy-makers
treat teachers as interchangeable “widgets,” ignoring their relative
effectiveness.

I have several reactions to his thoughtful piece.

Continue reading →

By Tom

As a people, we have a weird relationship with data. On the
one hand, we love to collect it; we love to measure every possible entity from
every conceivable angle so that we can arrange all those numbers in tables,
spreadsheets and graphs. On the other hand, we like to take all those numbers
and distill them down to a single digit. It’s as if we overwhelm ourselves with
numbers and respond by getting rid of most of them.

One of my fourth graders was able to put her finger on it. We
were learning how to find averages. One of the practice problems involved five
kids who went fishing. Each kid caught a different number of fish and my
students had to find the average. Like a good teacher, I started with the concrete.
I had each student build towers of interlocking cubes corresponding to the
fish. When they were done, they all had five towers of cubes standing on their
desks. “Finding the average,” I announced, “means finding the number of fish
each kid caught, if they all caught the same amount. That means we’ll have them
‘share’ the fish. We take some fish from the lucky kids and give them to the kids
who weren’t so lucky. We’ll ‘even out’ the towers until they’re all the same
height.” The answer was six. Then I showed them how to find the same number by
adding up all the fish and dividing the total by five. The answer was still
six.

That’s when Kiran spoke up. “I understand how to do this,
but I’m not sure why,” she said, “Why is the average number of fish more
important than knowing how many fish each kid caught?” Good question, Kiran.

It’s the same question I have about Senate Bill 5328, which
is moving its way through the Washington Legislature. It would require the
state to post a letter grade for each school based on how well their students
did on the state test. The bill's supporters think it will make it easier for parents to figure
out how well their local schools are doing, while holding educators more
accountable for their students’ achievement. I think it’s unnecessary,
simplistic and at odds with the last school-reform law out of Olympia: the teacher
evaluation system.

Continue reading →

By Tom White

When I was growing up my father was the city manager of
Mountlake Terrace. He was – and is – a cheap man, so when it came time to
purchase some additional police cars, he decided to buy a fleet of four used
checker cabs from a New York City taxi company. Expecting brand-new, top-shelf
Crown-Vics, the police force was not amused. In fact, they made an astonishing
prediction: within months, these cars – which they decided were dangerously
top-heavy – would all overturn. And sure enough, they all did. Oddly, no
civilian witnessed any of these “accidents,” all of which happened late at
night. Fortunately no one was injured.

In the end it was a win-win. The cops got their Crown-Vics
and my father got a great story to tell at his annual city manager conferences.
And at every Thanksgiving for the past forty years. The citizens of Mountlake
Terrace, of course, didn’t win; they had to pay for eight cars instead of four,
but such is life.

I share this story in light of what’s happening concerning
education funding. As we all know, the past few years have been bleak. Class
sizes have gone up and para-educator support levels have dropped. Teacher
salaries have also taken a 3% hit; absorbed and mitigated by many districts with
furlough days, resulting in less instruction time.

Like the cops in my father’s city, teachers predicted that
student learning would pay a price. However, this is what actually happened: 

What you’re looking at is math achievement in Washington
State over the last three years. Reading and science scores have also gone up.
This is not what we predicted or feared. This is definitely not a fleet of
police cars rolling around, upside-down in the streets of Mountlake Terrace.

So what happened?

Let me offer three possible explanations, presented in order
of increasing likelihood:

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By Tom

If there was any doubt about what education funding in Washington will look like when the legislature finally gets around to complying with the McCleary Decision, that matter has been put to rest.

Steve Litzow, the new chair of the Senate Education Committee, published an op-ed in the Seattle Times this week outlining the ever-popular opinion that education funding should be tied to results. The background for his piece appears to be a study by the Center for American Progress which examined data from school districts all over the country, looking at the correlation between money spent on education and student achievement.

The apparent goal is to be a low-spending, high-achieving school district. An efficient, results-based district. Obviously, this is a goal borrowed from the business world. People who spend money want to see results from that expenditure. People who spend even more money want to see even more results. And while that sort of thinking certainly stands to reason, I think we need to think it through before assuming that this fundamental economic principal is applicable to education.

Continue reading →

By Tom

When we were in college, learning how to be teachers, we
were told that there were two types of assessments: summative and formative. Summative
assessments come at the end of the unit or year. Their purpose is to “summarize”
the learning that did or didn’t happen. You may remember these as “final tests.”

Formative assessments, on the other hand, come during the
course of the unit or school year. Their purpose is to inform students,
teachers and parents on the progress made by each student in regards to the
learning. Ideally, these tests are used by teachers to adjust the pace or
content of instruction; and by students and their parents to adjust the amount
or intensity of effort.

The Seattle School District has recently found itself
embroiled in a controversy over its assessment system. The district uses the
MAP (Measures of Academic Progress) as a formative assessment of math and reading comprehension skills. Their students
take the computer-based tests twice a year and teachers, students and parents
are supposed to use the results as I’ve described above.

This year, however, the teachers at Garfield High voted unanimously
to boycott the MAP. Other teachers around the district followed suit, or at
least sent words of support. Their basic beef with the test is that it isn’t aligned
with their curriculum, rendering it completely useless as a formative
assessment, and therefore a waste of precious instructional time.

I don’t teach in Seattle, and I don’t administer the MAP (my
district uses something similar) so I don’t know exactly how things turned out
this way, but I strongly suspect it has something to do with the fact that secondary
English teachers don’t spend much time on direct instruction of reading comprehension,
compared to their colleagues at the elementary level. The reading MAP,
therefore, wouldn’t give them much feedback on the actual teaching and learning
in their classrooms. Math teachers would find themselves equally frustrated,
since their classes focus on specific math strands.

At this point things have reached a standoff: the teachers
are refusing to administer the tests and the administration has insisted they
do so, reluctantly threatening a ten-day, unpaid suspension for non-compliance.

I have to think that the teachers involved in the conflict
must be asking themselves an important question: “Is this really the hill I
want to die on?” And if it were me, my answer would be “no.”

Continue reading →

By Tom

I am a reasonably effective fourth grade teacher. I know how
to plan lessons, deliver instruction and grade papers. I can manage a classroom
and hold the attention of students. I can scold.

I have other talents. I can fly-fish, sail a J 24 single-handed
and ski through moguls. I can grill a steak, fry a burger and toast a cheese
sandwich. I can make meat lasagna, chicken curry and turkey enchiladas. I can
blend a daiquiri, shoot tequila and mix a martini. I have made beer.

I can ride a bike from Seattle to Portland in one day. I have run
a marathon. I have climbed Mount Si, Mount Pilchuk and most of Mount Baker. I
have swum laps.

I can write a five-paragraph essay. About anything. I can
write a business letter, a friendly letter and a resume. I can write a personal
narrative, a trickster tale or a fable. I can write a haiku.

I can paint a house. I can clean a roof, fix a pipe and
unclog a toilet. I can replace rain gutters, start a lawn from seed and build a
fence. I have replaced a garbage disposal.

I can do all of these things and more; yet I cannot, for the
life of me, support, sustain or even fathom the triple-girl friendship.

Like wet snow on a steep slope or a six-point lead at
halftime, the triple-girl friendship is inherently unstable. It’s asking for
trouble, like a fish tank on a golf course or an old man on ice skates. It is caesium.
It is your first bike ride.

The triple-girl friendship has no memory of its own failure.
It ruined last week’s literature circle, yet honestly believes it can
collaborate on a five-slide Oregon Trail PowerPoint. It cannot. It drove last
month’s chaperone crazy, yet pleads to be together on next month’s field trip.
It will not. The triple girl friendship goes out to recess with three smiles
and a long jump rope. It comes back crying.

The triple-girl friendship defies counseling. It can write
in eloquent cursive exactly what it did wrong and what it will do differently
next time, and then do exactly what it did wrong again. It can recite the
anti-bullying pledge with no sense of irony.

It is late January. There are just about 100 more days of
school. Lord help me.

By Tom

A few months ago I was visiting a friend of mine who teaches
high school English. We were in his classroom and he showed me his grade book. I
noticed that in some of his classes, most of the students were missing most of
their assignments. I asked him about this.

“There’s really not much I can do about it. I assign work,
collect it, grade it and post the scores on-line. Some kids just don’t turn in
their work. Other than giving them an F, there’s not much else I can do, since
some kids simply couldn’t care less about their grades.”

I explained how things work in my classroom. I assign work
and then collect it. If a student doesn’t have it, they do it during recess.
Period. No questions, no yelling, no discussion. Their names go up on the
whiteboard and they come back to the room after lunch to get it done. I’m in
the room anyway, taking care of paperwork, and I don’t mind the company.

And if someone misbehaves or wastes time during the day, I
put a tally next to their name on my clipboard. Each tally mark equals one
minute of lost recess during our second recess, which we have toward the end of
the day.

I use first recess to take care of missing assignments and I
use second recess to take care of misbehavior. And it works beautifully. I have
the best-behaved class in the school with literally no missing assignments.

But then I came across this article in USA
Today. Basically, a bunch of pediatricians want us to leave recess sacred;
don’t make kids do schoolwork when they should be out playing and don’t
withhold recess as a form of punishment.

In other words, don’t do what I do.

I can see their point. Recess is an important time for kids
to blow off steam, get some exercise, mingle, and just “be kids.” For most children,
it’s their favorite time of the day. It certainly was for me, when I was young.

But pediatricians aren’t teachers. They deal with one kid at
a time, for ten or fifteen minutes, with their parents in the room. They’re not
trying make 25 to 30 kids work quietly at something most of them would rather
not do for seven hours a day.

At a certain level, teachers need leverage. For those of us
at the elementary level, recess gives us that. 

What do you think?