By Kristin
Surprise! China is kicking our butts in testing. The article on Shanghai's dominance in the test scores of 15-year olds can be read here, in The New York Times.
But I don't want to talk about testing, or even Shanghai. I want to talk about my kitchen sink.
By Mark
I was hired for my first teaching job when I was 23 years old. One of the first pieces of advice I received–which puzzled me–was to begin to plan immediately for retirement. More seasoned adults in my life were peppering me with questions like How much of my monthly salary was I willing to sock away? What was my personal savings plan? At what age did I want to retire?
Please, people! I thought. I'm twenty-three. Retirement is thirty years away (if I'm lucky). Why do I need to be thinking that far into the future?
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.
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.
By Mark
A lesson in cause and effect:
Anyone else see it? I see a clear choice that our policymakers and legislators can make, on or around step six.
If we want to turn our economy around for the long run, how decisions are made at step six will make all the difference. If the pleas about children and learning don't work, maybe we need to talk economics.
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?
by Guest Blogger Maren
I am a high school biology and chemistry teacher, deeply concerned about changes to the Washington graduation requirements and state science testing.
The biology end-of-course exam is going to be introduced next school year. Not only is it going to be introduced for the first time, it is going to be introduced in a very high stakes fashion—this year’s freshmen must pass it to graduate. This is a new test, the first to focus on biology, and will be the first tenth grade exam covering new science standards. To adequately prepare for such a new exam takes time at the school level—curriculum must be examined and potentially modified; alignment must be checked between new standards, class work and laboratory investigations; classroom formative and summative assessments need to be researched or created.
One might think that this is all work that could be started now in preparation for next year’s big changes. However, this year, we have an equally new, equally high stakes, yet completely different exam to prepare for: the science HSPE, which current sophomores must pass to graduate. Then, after only one year as a graduation requirement, the science HSPE is going to be abandoned and replaced by the biology EOC.
By Tracey
A couple of weeks ago, I got an email from one of the instructional coaches saying that the 5th grade team has been invited to participate in a "data snap" on math instruction at our school. I tried to remember if I had heard this term before, data snap. I guess I knew what she was talking about: My morning would begin with a meeting around a large table with my principal, assistant principal, instructional coaches, and the other 5th grade teachers on my team. We would all be issued clipboards and a checklist. We would plan which classrooms we would barge into for five, maybe eight minutes each. And while I was there, I would be checking items off the checklist, or worse, not checking off items, while thinking about strategic questions I should be asking. Then, after the debrief, I would look forward to a giant email filled with graphs and charts of data detailing what instructional strategies were highly evident, somewhat evident, and not evident in our short intrusive visits, tripping the automatic "your inbox is too full" message.
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.