By Kristin
The New York Times reveals the concern some feel about how little American students know about civics. On a test given by the Department of Education, students did a pretty poor job of demonstrating mastery of "how government is financed, what rights are protected by the Constitution and how laws are passed." Sandra Day O'Connor calls this a "crisis."
I call it a crisis too, but for different reasons.
By Tom
It’s looking more and more like teachers in Washington State will get a pay cut. It’ll either be 3%, if the Senate gets its way; or 1.9%, if the Governor prevails. Whichever way it ends up, the issue begs the obvious question: should teachers work less days if they get less pay?
On the one hand, the last thing our students need is a shorter school year. And despite the logic that the public should “feel the pain” after voting down a couple of juicy tax bills last election, the people who would feel most of that pain are the citizens not yet old enough to vote.
On the other hand, it stands to reason that if you get less money you shouldn’t have to work as much. My brother in law works in construction. Things have slowed down lately in that industry, so his salary has dropped. But so has his workload; he now works a four-day week. Teachers work 180 days. According to my math, three percent of 180 is 5.4 days. If we ran the school system like my brother in law’s construction firm, teachers would get an extra week off for the next two years.
Personally, I’d rather work those extra days. I enjoy teaching and I have a hard enough time getting everything done in 180 days. And I’m willing to take a three percent pay cut if that’s what it takes to balance the state’s budget.
I do, however, have some conditions.
By Tom
Suffice to say, this hasn’t been the easiest year to be a teacher. And with the Legislature back in session, figuring out where to make cuts, it’s likely to get even worse. To add insult to injury, our school, like many, recently learned that we’re going to lose one of our teachers. As you might expect, she’s young, talented and enthusiastic. The kids like her, the parents like her and the rest of us like her. But she was the last one in, so she’s the first one out.
Many of us would like to see her stay. We’d prefer to have someone else leave; someone who isn’t as good at teaching.
It would be nice to have the means to do so, and if certain legislators have their way, we soon will. We may end up with a law that forces districts to force the least effective teachers out during staff reductions.
But while that might sound like a good idea right now, I don’t think it’ll work out in the long run.
And, of course, I'd love to see Bill Gates teach sentence structure to a class of forty 14-year olds if class size doesn't matter.
In my last post about Teacher Credibility, I shared how my efforts to forge relationships and build trust with my students has resulted in greater success in my recent lessons about everyone's least favorite Language Arts subject: grammar.
This got me thinking about Bill Gates et al.'s assertions about increasing class sizes. Rather than take the standard educator response about the value of connecting to each student blah, blah, blah, I instead thought about sales.
Dear Mr. Duncan,
Thank you for the letter. It was nice to read your sincere appreciation for the people who work in our nation’s schools, and a refreshing change from the treatment we received seven years ago when one of your predecessors referred to us as “terrorists.”
Most of us genuinely believe that you and the administration are working hard for the best interests of our public schools. We feel that you value and respect America’s teachers. While we may not always agree with all of your specific strategies or policies, it’s clear that you want the best for our students.
That said; I want to discuss the eighth paragraph of your letter:
“So I want to work with you to change and improve federal law, to invest in teachers and strengthen the teaching profession. Together with you, I want to develop a system of evaluation that draws on meaningful observations and input from your peers, as well as a sophisticated assessment that measures individual student growth, creativity, and critical thinking.”
When are you planning to begin working together with us? It’s been over two years since you’ve had this job and so far we haven’t seen much change in the federal law. I’m talking about NCLB, with its onerous sanctions. Those of us in the field are watching as good schools and good teachers are being labeled “failures” due mostly to the demographics of their student population and the relentlessly rising expectation of bad legislation.
And another thing. When you say you want to “work with us to change and improve federal law,” what exactly do you mean? As teachers, we know that could mean one of two things. There’s the “working together” where teams of teachers actually work together to plan a lesson or unit. In this form of “working together” the end is unknown at the outset. The team engages in genuine collaboration in which each partner contributes to the product. This is real and authentic teamwork.
Then there’s the other kind of working together. Many of us start the year by inviting our students to “work together” to form a set of class rules and responsibilities. For many of us, this is a disingenuous exercise; a façade in which the outcome is essentially predetermined. There’s no way, for example, that the rules we end up with won’t include something about “keeping our hands to ourselves.”
It might be OK to “work together” disingenuously when the rest of the team is eight years old, but we’re much older than that. And frankly, most of us know at least as much about education as you do.
The evaluation system you describe in this paragraph sounds pretty cool. But it sounds a lot different from the plans proposed by the states that won your “race to the top.” Most of those plans seemed to use student performance as a proxy for teacher effectiveness. There’s certainly a connection between the two, but it’s not as clear as you might think. There’s a kid in my class, for example, who is so hyperactive that his body literally vibrates all day long. But his low test scores belie the enormous amount of effort and work it has taken to get him to read and write almost at grade level, and to get him to complete his math assignments independently. At the same time, the girl who sits across from him, whose parents are both doctors, reads better than either you or I. Her high test scores represent almost none of my effort and talent. I’ll gladly take credit for them, but frankly, she would have done just as well on that test with a folding chair in charge of the class.
One more thing. Our unions have taken a beating this past year. Mostly at the state level and by members of the media and business community. But there’s a sneaking suspicion by many of us that a lot of these people have become emboldened, not so much by what you and the rest of the administration has said or done, but by what you haven’t said or done. Contrary to popular myth, most of us actually feel represented by our unions. Their policies, after all, are directed by the teachers they represent. Our unions are us. And they do a lot of great work, for both teachers and students. Would it be too much to ask to have you stick up for us every now and then?
So anyway, thanks for the letter. It was good to hear from you as we head down the homestretch of the school year. And if you really mean that part about “working together,” give me a call. I’ve got a few other ideas.
Tom
I loathe teaching grammar.
Every year, it seems that I try a new approach, and seldom does it accomplish what I want it to (improvement in student writing). I'm no expert, and a cursory read of my posts will probably produce scores of errors which would infuriate devout grammarians, but I do believe that by high school, there is merit in helping students see the "interior structure" of the language they use. Knowing that structure, hopefully, helps the strong writers refine and the weak writers give name and therefore understanding to their weaknesses.
This year, my rocky relationship with grammar led me to make a dangerous decision. Last semester, I did not teach it. At all. I responded to student writing and offered revision advice, but I didn't instruct about anything grammar-related. Instead, we focused on higher order rhetorical arrangement (argument, essay, paragraph). Over the course of the semester, I proved to my students through lessons, assessments, and feedback that I knew what I was talking about and knew how to help them. They started intentionally responding to my feedback and advice, and in reflections on their writing processes, I repeatedly saw references to "I never knew this before" or "now I understand." A strange thing happened, then, a few weeks ago when I finally, grudgingly and anticipating epic futility, settled into my hardcore grammar lessons and curriculum.
The intentions are in the right place: the goal is to measurably improve high school graduation rates through community partnerships and other programs.
The logic and the timing are what is wrong, however.
House Bill 1599, the "Pay for Actual Student Success Act" (yes, that's its real title, and it will take all the restraint I can muster not to discuss their choice of modifiers), passed the Washington State Senate last week without making many media waves. The bill establishes criteria for determining a school's improvement in high school graduation rates and then offers financial rewards to buildings and districts which accomplish this feat. According to one article, "The bill provides that if funds are appropriated in the budget to implement the cash grants, they would be awarded beginning with the 2011-12 school year. The House budget includes $6.4 million to launch the program and provide awards for two consecutive years."
In high-hog years, I wouldn't bat an eye at this kind of bill, or even its minute-by-comparison budget. Yes, I do see that its budgeted price tag is but a drop in the bucket. What the bill represents, however, is the backward logic which has gotten schools where they are at the present anyhow.
By Tom
Thing are heading into the homestretch in Olympia. There’s sure to be a special session in which the House, Senate and Governor’s office hash out a final budget for the next two years.
No one’s going to be happy with the final outcome. That’s for sure. But depending on who prevails, there may be less unhappiness in the area of K-12 education.
Personally, I’m pulling for the House.
First of all, Washington State invested a lot of time, money and effort on National Board Certification as an effective school reform initiative. It’s been growing steadily for the past ten years, to the point where our National Board system is the envy of the nation. National Board Certification is supported by research as an effective way to increase teacher capacity and student learning. It works.
The Governor’s budget suspends both the base pay for NBCTs and the challenging schools bonus. The Senate’s budget retains the bonus, but only for the first three years of certification. The House budget retains the entire bonus system, but moves the next payment from November of this year to July of next year, effectively suspending the bonus for one year. (The Senate budget also does this.)
Looking at the three budgets in regards to the damage they would do to our state’s National Board system, the House has the clear advantage.
Looking at the broader picture, both branches propose eliminating funding for lower K-4 class sizes. Additionally, the House budget would freeze salary step increases next year to save $56 million. The Senate budget has a 3% salary reduction to save $261 million. The Governor’s budget does neither of these and she has also spoken out against the Senate’s salary cut.
Again, the House budget seems to be a little less harsh on its impact on education. I hope they prevail.
Go House!
By Kristin
Sound Transit is considering providing curriculum to K-12 classrooms in an effort to create more riders for their "$2.6 billion Central Link light-rail line that opened in 2009 between Seattle's Westlake Center and the Seattle-Tacoma International Airport," according to the Seattle Times.
I am hugely in favor of mass transit, except when I'm in favor of bikes. I think people should use cars for long, rare trips – to see Grandma and Poppa Duane in Omaha while also learning about the Oregon Trail, for example, or perhaps for touring wine country. If one can piggy back on the other, hey, that's efficient driving!
And I support Sound Transit. I'd like to see the Puget Sound region continue to develop mass transit routes. But I'd like to see them develop routes people use. How many people want to go from Westlake Center to SeaTac? Not enough, apparently. Perhaps running a line that people really used would have been the smarter option, but Washington tends to vote dumb when it comes to mass transit, and we end up with tiny streetcar lines that quaintly carry you a block or two, and train lines that go from the mall to the airport.
Sound Transit's idea to develop curriculum that will get "into kids' consciousness and make them more likely to be future transit riders," according to the staffer leading the effort, aren't okay with me. I'd much rather they put taxpayer money into developing curriculum that creates voters who can see past the next year or two, so that we end up with a transit system that does more than get you to the airport the two times a year you need to make that trip.
Class time is pretty valuable. Kids lose it for vision, scoliosis, hearing, testing, assemblies, fundraisers, and all the other nuts and bolts of a public institution. Given that we cannot assume families are educating their children, or are able to assist in the education of their children, I'm pretty adamant that class time not become a route for free marketing.
I'm sure the Sound Transit materials will be available on a teacher-choice option, and I definitely won't be choosing to use them, but I'm unhappy that a publicly-funded company would consider advertising to public school students. Public schools are not an affordable, conveniently-efficient marketing opportunity. They're being told they have to be many things – therapists, health centers, parents, an end to hunger, babysitters – and all of that on top of educating, but they shouldn't also be asked to be free advertising.
By Kristin
Increasing class size in public education, something recently recommended by Bill Gates to the National Governor’s Association, would be a big mistake. Keeping class size at a level that allows for relationships, communication with parents, and timely feedback to students is necessary if we want public schools to educate our neediest children.
My own classes in a public Seattle high school have had between 30 and 36 students. With 36 students in a 50 minute period, I have 1.39 minutes for each child. I don’t spend class checking in with each child for 1.39 minutes, but that startling number is evidence of what happens when classes are allowed to get too large – there is not enough time for each child.
The problem with increasing class size in public education as a way to save money is that a teacher, no matter how good she is, can stretch the day only so far.
With 150 students a day, if I assign a piece of writing I have 150 essays to grade. If I move really fast (and not very carefully), spending five minutes on each essay, I will be grading for 12.5 hours. Teachers all across the country do this, but how many could do more than that?
Providing meaningful and timely feedback becomes problematic when class size increases, but so does solving the riddle of how to teach each child.
This year I am teaching honors level language arts. My students are ready to learn every day and want to do well in school. The students in my class of 34 are doing great, as would be the children at Lakeside were their classes increased to 34.
In past years, when I taught standard-level classes, having 34 children was a problem. One year I had a tenth grader I’ll call S, who couldn’t read. I spent my prep period reading his file and learned he missed most of second grade because his mother was an addict and didn’t get him to school. That explained a lot. Second grade is a big phonics year and one that is crucial for reading, so I focused instruction to help S with phonics. I designed extra work for him, changed daily lessons to help him with his specific needs, and tutored him during lunch.
S was one of 40 children that year who were reading and writing below grade level. I spent many hours reading files, examining data and tutoring during lunch. I spent hundreds of hours working with those children and their parents, and even then I did not get those children where I wanted them. Most of the time had to be spent outside of class because, of course, I had only a minute or two for each child during class.
While I had 40 students performing below grade level I also had 110 students performing at grade level, and they too wanted my attention – to ask for help during class, to visit during lunch, to have me write a letter of recommendation, to have their existence acknowledged and to be made to feel important. As the parent of a child in public school, I know how much a teacher’s attention means to a student. I don’t want my students to get less of me, and I don’t want my daughter to get less of her teacher. One cannot simultaneously support public education and reduce the amount of attention each child gets from her teacher.
Good teachers make great sacrifices for their students, but even good teachers run out of time. Increasing class size means there will be children whose riddles are not solved, who do not receive extra instruction or personalized curriculum, and who have teachers unable to find an hour to pick up a book and read about how to improve their craft. It’s not that most teachers don’t want to make time, it’s that there isn’t enough time in the day.
While it’s true that simply reducing class size will not improve achievement, increasing class size hurts those teachers who are already working hard to help children, despite Mr. Gates’s plan to increase the class sizes of exactly those teachers. There are many places to reduce spending in public education, but lifting the cap on class size shouldn’t be one of them.