By Mark
Here's some data for you.
Between my first and second period English classes, I have 60 students total. Certainly, a reasonable number for a large high school.
At the six-week progress report in October, a whopping 15 of those 60 had A's. Five had F's.
During the months of October, November, December and January, I participated in around 20 one-on-one or wraparound meetings (the latter included other teachers, administrators, counselors along with parent and usually student). Of those, at least half were specifically for the five young'uns earning an F at the October progress check.
If I were to keep a comm log (like back in the National Board candidacy days) I'd be willing to venture that far greater than 50% of my emails, phone calls, and letters home focused on those five kids who were earning an F in October. Arrangements were made for before and after school help with me and other teachers. Reasonable adjustments were made to deadlines, the scope of tasks, and the lengths of essays. Audiobooks were ordered and provided to students. Supplemental materials were provided to help with text comprehension and task completion.
The semester ends this week. The same exact five students still have F's. However, of the 15 who had A's, nine have dropped to a B+ or lower; the current "A count" is at eight: six kids held the A, two managed to climb up from the middle ranks.
Who have I failed worse? The five kids who still have an F? The nine kids who slipped south of the A?
It's far more complicated that that, of course. But the question implied by the statement in the title of this post is the key to it all.
How is it decided who deserves my time and energy? These two are a finite resource realistically and unfortunately not divided equally amongst my students. For good reason, I'm compelled to invest more into those at or near failing.
Let's say I have exactly 60 units of energy to give to all 60 of my students. Conveniently (because I made up the story problem) each student can receive precisely one unit of my energy. However, half my units of energy (30) are divided amongst just five students. They each get six units of my energy. Meanwhile, the other 55 battle for the remaining 30. If that were divided evenly (though it realistically isn't) then each of those kiddos gets just over a half a unit of energy from me. One kid gets six, the other gets a half. Not equitable.
Let's consider just one piece of the puzzle: there is a near-linear correlation between a student's percentage and depth of teacher-initiated parent-contact. I do shoot emails home or leave phone messages for the positives–a parent not long ago brought up the time I called home to share the good news of her son's outstanding end-of-term freshman comp essay…and he's now a senior…so I know those positive home contacts are worth it. But that call she recalled nearly four years later took me precisely one minute to accomplish. Less positive contacts demand more energy, more time, more communication, more interaction, and are certainly a necessary part of our obligation as teachers. Where I spent but one minute on that remembered parent contact, I easily spent three, four, even five hours in phone calls, meetings, and other contact with another individual student's parents. No hyperbole here–my fellow teachers know it's our reality.
That, though, doesn't answer the question.
The "correct" answer is that I'm investing my time in the students who "need me most." The ones on the brink. The ones flailing and failing. Absolutely they deserve the time. Do they deserve it more than my kids earning a B-? Some will way yes. Until I tell a parent: I hope it's okay, but I'm going to give 10% of my attention to your child with a B- so I can focus 90% of my attention on her classmate who is earning an F. Does the classmate deserve my attention? Sure, but I bet the parent would like to see more equality and equity.
So, since there's no easy answer, I'll turn to the data.
I invested a disrproportionately greater amount of time on the five who were earning an F in October: parent meetings; after school help; modified assignments; you name it, we tried it.
The exact same five students still have an F today.
The data says the interventions did not work: the effort invested was not effective. Meanwhile, the cream of the crop began to sour and over half my A's preciptated out. This group–the larger of the intial groups–received significantly less attention, fewer parent contacts, proportionally less of my time and energy. The effort invested with that group was clearly even less effective than the efforts invested for the F-students.
Clearly, we know who in my classroom really deserves an F, and he's the one who already has his diploma.
At least that's what the data could say, if someone wanted it to.
They all do. To split it up like that hurts all the students now and in the future. Its sad to see people splitting up their time in this manner.
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I have been wondering lately if the crux of our problems with the current education system is our commitment to educate EVERYONE. There is no way anyone is getting an equitable education when it comes to time and energy invested in each student as Mark has illustrated.
Through IDEA, NCLB, and the gag order on tracking, we have legislated our system into offering a subpar education at best and a raw deal for all at worst. Because I am highly critical that anyone one can point to any individual teacher and say here is somebody who can effectively meet the needs of their SPED, ELL, Gifted/Talented, and average students all at once so they are all meeting “standard” (and should the standard even be the same for each of those types of students?).
I am coming to the conclusion that society needs to revisit tracking or take Travis’s suggestion that school should exist for those students who want to learn. Because at the end of the day the choice to be educated, like the choice to wallow in boredom, is up to the individual.
I agree that to be uneducated is a choice… but I don’t get to choose my clientele–the clientele whose performance (choice) dictates my job evaluation. I am not looking to shift blame–I choose to work with at-risk and hard to reach populations when others don’t. I feel like one of my strengths is connecting with kids who wander lost. But, I’m no miracle worker. There will be kids who pass through my school that no adult can manage to influence.
@Tom: I have no doubt that inordinate time was spent on these same kids in elementary school. So perhaps it isn’t the system that is broken, then, if you think about it. I meet kids every year who claim that they did poorly in school year after year because all their teachers hated them. Every teacher you ever had? I ask. They claim so. But, what is the common factor in that relationship? I don’t want to open the blame game here, but there is something to be said with a frank discussion about loci of control: what do I have control over, what does the student have control over, what does the school have control over, what does the parent have control over. We should each shoulder our respective burdens and positively influence the other factors. But, does my boss really have control over what I do in my classroom when the door closes?
Tom, to be uneducated in America is a choice
Spending twice as much energy units on one student, a student who does not even care, is just wasteful. I have no problem spending my own energy units (up to 6 because I do have a family) on a low performing student who WANTS to perform. Heck, I will spend all day, and have, and do.
But to take from other students so that a cew who won’t, don’t … is it good for the community? If you say “You bet, and guess what, Travis–they will add to the greater good of our society,” I might wait. However, chances are they will not. Maybe that one student, named Bill might, but the majority that fail will continue to fail and suck well meaning time from educators and parents.
At least in the current education system we have.
I watched “Moneyball” the other day and there was a great quote from Billy Beane/Brad Pitt:
“I hate losing more than I love winning.”
I think we as teachers – and probably society at large – hate failing more than we love succeeding. All of us chase those F students harder than we support the A students. Always have, always will. And we do it not because of the economics that you articulated so clearly, but out of fear. We’re terrified of what will happen to those kids if we don’t do something.
And we should be terrified, because to be uneducated in America is a terrifying prospect.
One more thing: if you think you spent an inordinate amount of time on those five kiddos this year, you have no idea how much extra time and energy they were costing the system when they were in elementary school.
You bring up great points. Let me restate that: you bring up a great question. Let me throw one not-so-expected answer to the question, Who deserves your time?
The students who come to school.
That is the obvious answer. The answer we are suppose to hold high–all students can learn.
Yes. All. Students. Can. Learn.
However, not all students want to learn or are ready to learn. So here is my real answer:
The students who deserve your time are the ones that show up to school, and I will add one caveat to that–only students who want to learn should come to school. School is not set up to house the thousands who do not care. Gyms exist for those that show up. Those that do not, do something else with their time (and money).
Schools should exist for students who want to learn. Students should come to school only I they want to learn. Students (youth) that do not show up to school are the concern of their parents.