By Tom

I took my third graders on a field trip the other day. We went to all the important buildings in our community; the fire station, recreation center, city hall, public library and police station. It was fun, especially when everyone got to go into the holding cell at the police station. And when we got back everyone chose their favorite place and wrote a paragraph about it. The paragraphs were fine. Each one of them had an adequate topic sentence with three to five detail sentences. Exactly what I asked for.

Then we went on another field trip. This time we went to the local sewer treatment plant. When we got back to school we did some more writing. But this time the writing was incredible. There was far more elaboration and an incredible amount of authors' voice in their writing.

Why? How did one third grade class improve in their writing skills so dramatically in the space of four weeks? Two reasons: First of all, they wrote their second piece about a place that literally assaulted their senses. It's easy to write about something that makes that kind of an impact on you. I mean, that place reeked! But there was another reason. In between those two writing assignments I did some very intentional instruction in the areas of elaboration and adding author's voice. And I knew what I was doing, because I was involved in a collaborative unit of study with my teaching partner and one of our district's literacy coaches. I was learning how to teach writing to third graders. I was learning new techniques and strategies that were working. I was becoming a better teacher and it was having a direct, positive impact on my students. All of them. And the evidence is right there, hanging up in my classroom for anyone to see.

This is part of my job. For the past twenty-five years I've taken classes, earned degrees, read books, done lesson studies, joined Critical Friends Groups, everything I can think of to improve. And when I saw an opportunity to work with some colleagues to improve the way I teach writing, I jumped on it. I used a tool that was made available to me. And it worked.

That's how it's supposed to work: the district provides a learning opportunity, I take advantage of it, and my students improve. It's that simple.

Which brings me to the twin budgets that were unveiled earlier this week by our legislature. Both budgets include drastic cuts in education, particularly in professional development. Professional development days are cut, math coaches are cut, and money for literacy coaches is completely eliminated. Gone. The tool that helped me dramatically improve my students' writing has vanished.

Expectations haven't gone away, however. For at least the past fifteen years we've been told by our lawmakers to get better at what we do. It's been a constant refrain. We're forever being told to improve. Reform. Close the achievement gap. Even now, facing massive cuts to education and with even more students in our classes.

What the legislature doesn't get is that we're already working at full capacity. We don't "get better" at our jobs just by wanting to. Or being told to. The first set of paragraphs that my students wrote was the result of my best effort as a teacher. So was the second; but the difference was due to job-imbedded training by a literacy coach funded by our state.

If this state wants its teachers to do better tomorrow than they're doing today; if it wants its students to learn more; if it wants test scores to grow and achievement gaps to shrink, then it needs to fund professional development.  Otherwise its not going to happen. It's that simple.

These budgets are inadequate. They stink. They reek. In fact, I can think of only one practical use for either one of these documents: I'll read them to my third graders and have them write descriptive paragraphs about them. Now that should be interesting!