Check out this blog entry I wrote for the Leading Edge Institute - a Birmingham, AL, non-profit dedicated to fostering women in leadership.
http://leadingedgeinst.org/blog/
The best leaders know that sharing power with others does not compromise their own power. Sharing power creates more efficient organizations that foster innovation, creativity, and resilience.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Repurposing "Readiness"
I work in a public high school, so we are all focused on "readiness." We want our students to be college "ready" and AP "ready" and "ready" for the real world. Valerie Strauss of the Washington Post's Answer Sheet blog recently posted a commentary by Monty Neill of Fair Test in which he describes a Race to the Top initiative that encourages states to create a "readiness" test of kindergarteners as part of a Comprehensive Assessment System for public schools. Neill argues that readiness tests for kindergarteners will affect them negatively, convincing these little ones that they are failures at a young age and persuading their teachers that their students are not capable of academic work. These tests would deprive our youngest learners of the type of experiential learning that they need.
As I read Neill's commentary, I thought about education's love-hate relationship with tests. We in education have always given tests. I'm not sure I know a teacher who doesn't assess her students on a regular basis. Whether it's a summative unit test or a question-and-answer session during class discussion, teachers constantly assess their students. Yet, we in education also bemoan tests as time-wasting, fun-sucking, cognition-draining adventures in futility. I'm not sure I know a teacher who jumps for joy when state testing time rolls around. All criticisms of the No Child Left Behind and Race to the Top initiatives blast their reliance on tests as the gold-standard of accountability. We find ourselves in a classic approach-avoidance conflict: we are compelled to assess our students so we know where they stand yet we hate judging them (and being judged ourselves) for where they stand.
I argue that we should stop fighting the tests. We won't win that battle anyway. The tests are here to stay, regardless of their quality or validity. What we need to do is repurpose the tests, educating the public and policy makers about what value these tests can provide. The problem with the current testing zeitgeist is that the test results are sold as a measure of how well we've prepared students. I'm not sure any educated person, or any person in education, really believes that's what tests really do. We've all taken tests that didn't really measure what we knew. These tests do not measure "readiness," so we should stop hoping that they will suddenly start measuring "readiness" because we use them as an accountability tool. So instead of using tests as measures of "readiness," we should use them as measures of "opportunity."
I always told my students that testing days were the most important days in the course. The testing day was the moment of truth when they would discover whether they knew the material or not. Most students are very confident that they know the material going into the test. In fact, the overconfidence effect is a well documented phenomenon in psychology. People tend to be very confident that they will perform well on a task, but their performance generally does not equal their confidence. Because students don't know what they will be tested on, they assume that they will be tested on what they know. They don't anticipate that questions will come up about stuff they do not know. We don't expend a lot of energy studying information we already feel confident that we know. We do, however, expend great effort learning information that we do not know. So the testing day is when what they don't know is revealed. For students to recognize what they didn't know is the first step to learning.
I am interested in assessing our students, even in kindergarten, but I'm not interested in using the test results to punish parents, students, teachers, or schools for not getting these youngsters "ready" for school. I am interested in assessing our students so that we can know what we need to focus on in the classroom. Can our five-year-olds entering kindergarten read? Can they add or subtract? Can they name the current President of the United States? If so, I'm going to need to plan lessons that take students farther than what the Common Core or any other standardized curriculum would dictate for kindergarten. We waste tons of time in classrooms teaching students material they already know. Test results should point us in the directions we should go from this point forward. The "readiness" approach instead uses test results to scold us for not having the map that tells us where to go.
So, Mr. President and Mr. Secretary, rethink your interpretation of test results. The results will not tell you whether our students are "ready" for anything. But they will tell you how many resources we will need to meet the learning needs of our students. Use the scores as indicators of how much work needs to be done instead of indicators of how little work has been done. See the scores as opportunities to demonstrate just how far students can go instead of evidence that someone has failed. This simple repurposing may be the honey you need to get teachers on board with your reform efforts. Of course, by getting teachers on board, you may not need reform efforts after all.
As I read Neill's commentary, I thought about education's love-hate relationship with tests. We in education have always given tests. I'm not sure I know a teacher who doesn't assess her students on a regular basis. Whether it's a summative unit test or a question-and-answer session during class discussion, teachers constantly assess their students. Yet, we in education also bemoan tests as time-wasting, fun-sucking, cognition-draining adventures in futility. I'm not sure I know a teacher who jumps for joy when state testing time rolls around. All criticisms of the No Child Left Behind and Race to the Top initiatives blast their reliance on tests as the gold-standard of accountability. We find ourselves in a classic approach-avoidance conflict: we are compelled to assess our students so we know where they stand yet we hate judging them (and being judged ourselves) for where they stand.
I argue that we should stop fighting the tests. We won't win that battle anyway. The tests are here to stay, regardless of their quality or validity. What we need to do is repurpose the tests, educating the public and policy makers about what value these tests can provide. The problem with the current testing zeitgeist is that the test results are sold as a measure of how well we've prepared students. I'm not sure any educated person, or any person in education, really believes that's what tests really do. We've all taken tests that didn't really measure what we knew. These tests do not measure "readiness," so we should stop hoping that they will suddenly start measuring "readiness" because we use them as an accountability tool. So instead of using tests as measures of "readiness," we should use them as measures of "opportunity."
I always told my students that testing days were the most important days in the course. The testing day was the moment of truth when they would discover whether they knew the material or not. Most students are very confident that they know the material going into the test. In fact, the overconfidence effect is a well documented phenomenon in psychology. People tend to be very confident that they will perform well on a task, but their performance generally does not equal their confidence. Because students don't know what they will be tested on, they assume that they will be tested on what they know. They don't anticipate that questions will come up about stuff they do not know. We don't expend a lot of energy studying information we already feel confident that we know. We do, however, expend great effort learning information that we do not know. So the testing day is when what they don't know is revealed. For students to recognize what they didn't know is the first step to learning.
I am interested in assessing our students, even in kindergarten, but I'm not interested in using the test results to punish parents, students, teachers, or schools for not getting these youngsters "ready" for school. I am interested in assessing our students so that we can know what we need to focus on in the classroom. Can our five-year-olds entering kindergarten read? Can they add or subtract? Can they name the current President of the United States? If so, I'm going to need to plan lessons that take students farther than what the Common Core or any other standardized curriculum would dictate for kindergarten. We waste tons of time in classrooms teaching students material they already know. Test results should point us in the directions we should go from this point forward. The "readiness" approach instead uses test results to scold us for not having the map that tells us where to go.
So, Mr. President and Mr. Secretary, rethink your interpretation of test results. The results will not tell you whether our students are "ready" for anything. But they will tell you how many resources we will need to meet the learning needs of our students. Use the scores as indicators of how much work needs to be done instead of indicators of how little work has been done. See the scores as opportunities to demonstrate just how far students can go instead of evidence that someone has failed. This simple repurposing may be the honey you need to get teachers on board with your reform efforts. Of course, by getting teachers on board, you may not need reform efforts after all.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
AP Annual Conference Presentation 2011: Scope & Sequence Suggestions for AP Psychology
Here is a link to my powerpoint presentation for the session I lead at the AP Annual Conference in San Francisco, CA, in July 2011.
Teaching AP Psychology is incredibly fun, but can also be incredibly challenging. While I was fortunate to teach the course for an entire academic year, some folks must fit it all in during a semester. Some people also feel bound by the order of topics in the textbook. I present some options for how to design a fun, interactive, and interconnected course that will maximize interest and time. Feel free to comment with questions or innovative course ideas!
Teaching AP Psychology is incredibly fun, but can also be incredibly challenging. While I was fortunate to teach the course for an entire academic year, some folks must fit it all in during a semester. Some people also feel bound by the order of topics in the textbook. I present some options for how to design a fun, interactive, and interconnected course that will maximize interest and time. Feel free to comment with questions or innovative course ideas!
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Why We're Losing the Ed-PR Battle
Which would you rather eat - hamburger meat labeled as "85% fat" or "15% lean"?
Research shows that how situations are presented to us - known as "framing" - influences our thoughts and behaviors about those situations. Hamburger-meat consumers are more likely to buy that pack of meat if it's labeled "lean" than "fat." We are more likely to carry an umbrella on a sunny day if the weatherman says there is a 20% chance of rain rather than saying there is an 80% chance of sun. There is no difference in the chance of rain in either frame, but our behavior is very different in response to it.
Education reformers today are very good at framing. They employ folks whose sole purpose is to frame the argument in ways that will influence policy makers and venture capitalists to support their ideas and reject the ideas of the opposition. They have even figured out how to sway the public sentiment in their direction.
Let me stack these frames up for you, and you tell me who seems to be winning here. Ed reformers give us "No Child Left Behind." They give us "Race to the Top" and "Turnaround Schools." They rail against "Last in, First Out" and the dreaded "Status Quo." They point fingers at "teacher unions." They cry out that "poverty is no excuse for failure!" They "Teach for America" and propose that "Knowledge is Power." They put "Students First" while they are "Waiting for Superman."
What are the frames from their opposition? They say, "but the kids are poor and come from broken homes." They complain about politically charged school climates and vindictive, lazy administrators. They insist that some children will be left behind because some kids just aren't smart enough to go to college. They cross their arms and say they're not going to run in any race, thank you very much. They plead for more money to fix crumbling buildings and broken air conditioners, assuring us that a pretty building will make all the difference. They complain under their breath as they spend valuable time on test prep. They insist that Superman is not enough to fix the problems that face us.
The frames the reformers provide are showy and nice, enough to showcase something valuable. The other frames are chipped and bent, looking quite ready to be replaced. The sad fact is that the reformers are offering nothing of substance in this debate to put in these pretty frames. Charter schools systems haven't been the salvation of failing schools, even if they are reaching a few of the failing students. Turnaround plans like those in Central Falls, RI, aren't producing results. Arne Duncan predicts that 82% of schools will be labeled as "failing" in 2011 as No Child Left Behind bears down on even highly performing schools. And states are putting the brakes on their winning Race to the Top reforms as the realities of those reforms become clear.
But the responses to these reforms leave educators looking cold hearted. Instead of looking within ourselves and being our own best critics, we educators are making lame excuses that blame everyone but ourselves. We teachers are busting our butts to do a good job, and all you people expect out of us are miracles. But, come on, our students are left behind because they are poor or lazy or stupid or bad. Their parents are uncooperative and apathetic. The administrators are vindictive and lazy. The DOE is unsympathetic and out of touch.
How can we expect to win the hearts and minds (and money) of the public if we don't take appropriate responsibility and fix those parts of ourselves that are broken? We need to take a good, hard look at tenure to see how we can avoid the perception that tenured teachers simply "phone it in" until retirement. We need to examine constantly how we prepare students so we give them the best possible choices for their futures. We need to develop systems of accountability for students and teachers that provide direction for continuous improvement. Right now, we are letting others come up with ideas for how to address these problems. We need to stop complaining about how difficult the job is. We need to take charge and develop programs and solutions that we can embrace. We do not need to be afraid of change. We just need to create a change that will work.
Research shows that how situations are presented to us - known as "framing" - influences our thoughts and behaviors about those situations. Hamburger-meat consumers are more likely to buy that pack of meat if it's labeled "lean" than "fat." We are more likely to carry an umbrella on a sunny day if the weatherman says there is a 20% chance of rain rather than saying there is an 80% chance of sun. There is no difference in the chance of rain in either frame, but our behavior is very different in response to it.
Education reformers today are very good at framing. They employ folks whose sole purpose is to frame the argument in ways that will influence policy makers and venture capitalists to support their ideas and reject the ideas of the opposition. They have even figured out how to sway the public sentiment in their direction.
Let me stack these frames up for you, and you tell me who seems to be winning here. Ed reformers give us "No Child Left Behind." They give us "Race to the Top" and "Turnaround Schools." They rail against "Last in, First Out" and the dreaded "Status Quo." They point fingers at "teacher unions." They cry out that "poverty is no excuse for failure!" They "Teach for America" and propose that "Knowledge is Power." They put "Students First" while they are "Waiting for Superman."
What are the frames from their opposition? They say, "but the kids are poor and come from broken homes." They complain about politically charged school climates and vindictive, lazy administrators. They insist that some children will be left behind because some kids just aren't smart enough to go to college. They cross their arms and say they're not going to run in any race, thank you very much. They plead for more money to fix crumbling buildings and broken air conditioners, assuring us that a pretty building will make all the difference. They complain under their breath as they spend valuable time on test prep. They insist that Superman is not enough to fix the problems that face us.
The frames the reformers provide are showy and nice, enough to showcase something valuable. The other frames are chipped and bent, looking quite ready to be replaced. The sad fact is that the reformers are offering nothing of substance in this debate to put in these pretty frames. Charter schools systems haven't been the salvation of failing schools, even if they are reaching a few of the failing students. Turnaround plans like those in Central Falls, RI, aren't producing results. Arne Duncan predicts that 82% of schools will be labeled as "failing" in 2011 as No Child Left Behind bears down on even highly performing schools. And states are putting the brakes on their winning Race to the Top reforms as the realities of those reforms become clear.
But the responses to these reforms leave educators looking cold hearted. Instead of looking within ourselves and being our own best critics, we educators are making lame excuses that blame everyone but ourselves. We teachers are busting our butts to do a good job, and all you people expect out of us are miracles. But, come on, our students are left behind because they are poor or lazy or stupid or bad. Their parents are uncooperative and apathetic. The administrators are vindictive and lazy. The DOE is unsympathetic and out of touch.
How can we expect to win the hearts and minds (and money) of the public if we don't take appropriate responsibility and fix those parts of ourselves that are broken? We need to take a good, hard look at tenure to see how we can avoid the perception that tenured teachers simply "phone it in" until retirement. We need to examine constantly how we prepare students so we give them the best possible choices for their futures. We need to develop systems of accountability for students and teachers that provide direction for continuous improvement. Right now, we are letting others come up with ideas for how to address these problems. We need to stop complaining about how difficult the job is. We need to take charge and develop programs and solutions that we can embrace. We do not need to be afraid of change. We just need to create a change that will work.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
The "Readiness Myth" - Why We Don't Want Students Who Are "Ready" Already
READY–adjective
1.
completely prepared or in fit condition for immediate action or use
2.
duly equipped, completed, adjusted, or arranged, as for an occasion or purpose
3.
willing
Source: dictionary.com
When is a student "ready" for the next phase of their lives? Students are "ready" when they are "completely prepared...for immediate action" and "duly equipped... for an occasion or purpose." We talk about "readiness" all the time in schools, but I don't think we are using the word "ready" in the dictionary.com sense. We use "ready" instead to label students for placement in grades, courses, and college. We determine whether students are "ready" to go to the next grade or "ready" to take that AP class or "ready" to enter college. We have made "readiness" a high-stakes enterprise. Students who are "ready" are allowed to matriculate and take that AP class and enter college without taking remedial courses. Students who are not "ready" are held back and denied entry into advanced coursework and charged hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars to take extra courses that don't count toward a degree.
In my opinion, our use of "readiness" to determine whether students can move on to the next phase of life is broken. We use "readiness" as a key that opens doors for students who are deemed "ready," and we withhold the key from students who are not. Lack of "readiness" has become code for "stupid" or "lazy" or "falling short of potential." Education reformers are now using "readiness" to grade teachers and school as well as students. If teachers and schools are not getting students "ready" for the next test or grade or graduation, then those teachers and schools are failures, just like their students. "Readiness" now has the highest of stakes attached to it.
Jay Mathews' Class Struggle column in the Washington Post recently addressed community college placement tests. The College Board, who authors the ACCUPLACER test for many community colleges, encourages students in their instructions for the test by saying that it is not possible to "fail" a placement test. Yet, community colleges use the scores from this test to determine placement in remedial classes. So, in essence, students can "fail" the placement test, as Mathews points out. These students end up spending money and time taking remedial courses because they are not "ready" for "real" college work.
Here is the flaw in our logic of "readiness" - if students are already "ready" already for the next phase of their lives, what do we have left to teach them? If students are "ready" already for AP classes, what does the teacher have to offer these students? If students are "ready" already for college work, why should they go through with college work? I believe that if we only teach "ready" students, we really aren't teaching. We are merely babysitting.
I've taught many AP students over the years, and there were several who really didn't need me. They were the poster children for "readiness." All they really needed was the course textbook and perhaps an encouraging email from me now and then, and they would have passed the AP test with flying colors. These students were very "ready" for AP and for college work. I had little to offer but some tricks of the trade for writing free-response questions and tips for remembering often-confused concepts. I didn't have to do much teaching for these "ready" students.
Now, my non-"ready" students were those who really needed me. They needed me to work with them to develop the skills they needed to be "ready" for that test in May. They weren't as independent as my "ready" students. They could read the textbook and still not understand everything they read. They needed me to critique their essays extensively and repeatedly before they were able to write a coherent, cohesive response to a prompt. Some days, my non-"ready" students battled with me over each and every teaching point. Other days, they trusted that what I was teaching them would make a difference in their lives. We enjoyed a dynamic give-and-take relationship in the classroom that I truly enjoyed. I loved seeing the light come on with these non-"ready" students. I felt like I was accomplishing my ultimate teaching goal - to make a difference in the lives of my students.
I've had many colleagues over the years who did not want students who weren't "ready" for advanced coursework. When course selection time came around, these teachers would demand that students complete applications or take placement tests to enter their classes. They would meet with teachers in feeder classes to talk about which students were "ready" and which were not. They would complain about teachers in feeder classes who were too generous in recommending students for advanced courses. They would make students and their parents sign forms saying they were aware that the student was overreaching their potential by taking advanced coursework over the objections of their teachers or their placement test score.
For the most part, I think these teachers are well meaning. They don't want to set students up for failure. They don't want to see students frustrated when the course gets tough. But I think these teachers are missing the real point of schooling - to teach students how to overcome failure and frustration. They were missing the point because they were afraid that their students' failures would reflect badly on their teaching. Students who are "ready" already are not likely to encounter failure in our schools. They will rarely be frustrated with our classes. And they will rarely be challenged. And they will make us look good as teachers. We will look good when they do well on our tests, but I don't think they will ever really learn anything from us.
In today's climate of data worship and high-stakes accountability, we have become afraid of students who are not "ready." Students who are not "ready" will be frustrated with us and our course expectations. Students who are not "ready" will fail sometimes, if not entirely. These students may not give us the data we need to make AYP or to be deemed "effective." They may make our AP pass rates fall. Or they may make us look really, really good. The risks of teaching non-"ready" students are great, but so are the rewards. So instead of using the data we generate to create appropriate learning goals for our students so we can help them become "ready" and ultimately succeed, we are using the data we generate to punish students for not being "ready" already.
Real school reform will happen when we embrace non-"ready" students and get on with the business of school, helping them to become "completely prepared" and "duly equipped" for whatever life has for them. Teaching them how to overcome failure and how to deal with frustration will do more to make our students "ready" for the real world and the 21st century than any amount of test prep or data worship. Our new evaluation systems for students, teachers, and schools should focus more on non-"readiness" than "readiness." "Readiness" is a prize we should always pursue but never achieve. For by achieving "readiness," we then have nothing left to learn.
When is a student "ready" for the next phase of their lives? Students are "ready" when they are "completely prepared...for immediate action" and "duly equipped... for an occasion or purpose." We talk about "readiness" all the time in schools, but I don't think we are using the word "ready" in the dictionary.com sense. We use "ready" instead to label students for placement in grades, courses, and college. We determine whether students are "ready" to go to the next grade or "ready" to take that AP class or "ready" to enter college. We have made "readiness" a high-stakes enterprise. Students who are "ready" are allowed to matriculate and take that AP class and enter college without taking remedial courses. Students who are not "ready" are held back and denied entry into advanced coursework and charged hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars to take extra courses that don't count toward a degree.
In my opinion, our use of "readiness" to determine whether students can move on to the next phase of life is broken. We use "readiness" as a key that opens doors for students who are deemed "ready," and we withhold the key from students who are not. Lack of "readiness" has become code for "stupid" or "lazy" or "falling short of potential." Education reformers are now using "readiness" to grade teachers and school as well as students. If teachers and schools are not getting students "ready" for the next test or grade or graduation, then those teachers and schools are failures, just like their students. "Readiness" now has the highest of stakes attached to it.
Jay Mathews' Class Struggle column in the Washington Post recently addressed community college placement tests. The College Board, who authors the ACCUPLACER test for many community colleges, encourages students in their instructions for the test by saying that it is not possible to "fail" a placement test. Yet, community colleges use the scores from this test to determine placement in remedial classes. So, in essence, students can "fail" the placement test, as Mathews points out. These students end up spending money and time taking remedial courses because they are not "ready" for "real" college work.
Here is the flaw in our logic of "readiness" - if students are already "ready" already for the next phase of their lives, what do we have left to teach them? If students are "ready" already for AP classes, what does the teacher have to offer these students? If students are "ready" already for college work, why should they go through with college work? I believe that if we only teach "ready" students, we really aren't teaching. We are merely babysitting.
I've taught many AP students over the years, and there were several who really didn't need me. They were the poster children for "readiness." All they really needed was the course textbook and perhaps an encouraging email from me now and then, and they would have passed the AP test with flying colors. These students were very "ready" for AP and for college work. I had little to offer but some tricks of the trade for writing free-response questions and tips for remembering often-confused concepts. I didn't have to do much teaching for these "ready" students.
Now, my non-"ready" students were those who really needed me. They needed me to work with them to develop the skills they needed to be "ready" for that test in May. They weren't as independent as my "ready" students. They could read the textbook and still not understand everything they read. They needed me to critique their essays extensively and repeatedly before they were able to write a coherent, cohesive response to a prompt. Some days, my non-"ready" students battled with me over each and every teaching point. Other days, they trusted that what I was teaching them would make a difference in their lives. We enjoyed a dynamic give-and-take relationship in the classroom that I truly enjoyed. I loved seeing the light come on with these non-"ready" students. I felt like I was accomplishing my ultimate teaching goal - to make a difference in the lives of my students.
I've had many colleagues over the years who did not want students who weren't "ready" for advanced coursework. When course selection time came around, these teachers would demand that students complete applications or take placement tests to enter their classes. They would meet with teachers in feeder classes to talk about which students were "ready" and which were not. They would complain about teachers in feeder classes who were too generous in recommending students for advanced courses. They would make students and their parents sign forms saying they were aware that the student was overreaching their potential by taking advanced coursework over the objections of their teachers or their placement test score.
For the most part, I think these teachers are well meaning. They don't want to set students up for failure. They don't want to see students frustrated when the course gets tough. But I think these teachers are missing the real point of schooling - to teach students how to overcome failure and frustration. They were missing the point because they were afraid that their students' failures would reflect badly on their teaching. Students who are "ready" already are not likely to encounter failure in our schools. They will rarely be frustrated with our classes. And they will rarely be challenged. And they will make us look good as teachers. We will look good when they do well on our tests, but I don't think they will ever really learn anything from us.
In today's climate of data worship and high-stakes accountability, we have become afraid of students who are not "ready." Students who are not "ready" will be frustrated with us and our course expectations. Students who are not "ready" will fail sometimes, if not entirely. These students may not give us the data we need to make AYP or to be deemed "effective." They may make our AP pass rates fall. Or they may make us look really, really good. The risks of teaching non-"ready" students are great, but so are the rewards. So instead of using the data we generate to create appropriate learning goals for our students so we can help them become "ready" and ultimately succeed, we are using the data we generate to punish students for not being "ready" already.
Real school reform will happen when we embrace non-"ready" students and get on with the business of school, helping them to become "completely prepared" and "duly equipped" for whatever life has for them. Teaching them how to overcome failure and how to deal with frustration will do more to make our students "ready" for the real world and the 21st century than any amount of test prep or data worship. Our new evaluation systems for students, teachers, and schools should focus more on non-"readiness" than "readiness." "Readiness" is a prize we should always pursue but never achieve. For by achieving "readiness," we then have nothing left to learn.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Teacher Appreciation - What We Can Control and What We Can't
Note: I have changed the blog address to update the new title and focus. If you have bookmarked this blog, please update!
As I celebrate Teacher Appreciation Week, I've been reflecting on what teachers contribute to students, schools, and the community at large. I've also been reflecting on what teachers can't contribute to students, schools, and the community at large. I am typically what some folks (like my husband) would call a "control freak," wanting to be "in charge" and controlling what goes on around me. My sisters would confirm that I've been bossy since childhood (ah, the joys of being first born!), and because of these traits of mine, I've become somewhat of an expert in determining what I can control and what I can't.
Figuring out what we can control and what we can't control is important to mental health. I can control how prepared I am for an emergency, but I can't control how extensively I am affected by that emergency. The recent tornadoes in my home state of Alabama show this. Many people hid out in their "places of safety" during the storms, which was the right thing to do, but the sheer power and magnitude of the storms made most preparations futile. Does that mean we should not go to places of safety for future storms? No. The lesser magnitude of future storms may make our planning and preparations crucial to our survival. We can only do what we can do and hope our preparations are enough to meet the power and magnitude of what we face.
Teachers face circumstances that vary in power and magnitude every day. Some of those circumstances can be faced with creativity and planning. Other circumstances can only be faced with patience and flexibility. Figuring out when you need to plan and when you need to be flexible can be the key to a healthier approach to teaching and learning. To me, there is one main circumstance teachers can control, and one main circumstance that they can't control.
Teachers can control what goes on each day in the classroom. Lesson planning is essential to a successful school day. Students need to be busy and engaged throughout the day in order for learning to happen. The work students do needs to be all things to all students - interesting, important, and appropriately challenging. A well planned lesson can address both learning needs and potential discipline problems that may arise.
Teachers can't control what students bring into the classroom each day. Even the most well planned lesson can be sabotaged by students who are belligerent and defiant. The real question then becomes why the student is belligerent and defiant. To me, this is where teaching and learning become truly complicated. Each student is bringing a different issue to the classroom each day, and how much those issues affect their learning (and your teaching) determines what remedies you might try. Some students are upset with parents or friends. Others may be dealing with poverty or abuse or substance abuse at home. Still others may be upset with you or another teacher in the building about their grades or the amount of work you assign. And yet others just may be insecure or immature and want attention at inappropriate times.
The task of teachers in these instances is not to "fix" what's wrong with the students, which is what you can't control, but to create an environment in which these issues become minimized, which is what you can control. You cannot make a student's home life better or correct immaturity (at least in the short term!). But you can create a classroom environment that is safe, structured, flexible, and engaging so students can leave their personal issues at the door and work on the tasks at hand while they are with you. You can leave your own personal issues at the door as well, not bringing to your classroom your home issues or insecurities or personal biases. You can explain students' behavior as the result of situations they are in rather than personal flaws they cannot change.
Some teachers work in environments in which poverty, abuse, illiteracy, and behavior problems abound. In these environments, it may seem as though no amount of planning or creativity will ameliorate the issues students bring into the classroom. In fact, teachers in these environments often feel like those folks who lost everything in the storms. They prepared, they planned, they did all the right things, but in the end, it was all for nothing. They only escaped with their lives, and in many cases, some didn't even escape with that. Teachers in high-risk schools often feel beaten up by the storms of their circumstances. They may learn to be helpless in these environments, which can lead to their lack of motivation to do the creative planning necessary to make learning happen successfully.
Other teachers work in environments in which students are generally well prepared for learning, but who at times may be immature or uninterested in learning. In these environments, instead of feeling helpless and defeated, teachers typically feel pretty confident about what they do and how they do it. These teachers tend to plan well and are creative with most of their lessons. Most of their students are compliant and even thriving under their tutelage. But these teachers can be blind to the reasons why some students are not successful. They may hold so tightly to their procedures and plans that they cannot imagine why some students aren't engaged or even enthralled by their teaching. These teachers need more patience and flexibility than planning and creativity. These teachers are like those who weather less severe storms. They plan and prepare and protect themselves from the winds and rain, and they usually escape with little to no damage. But some damage can happen, and instead of raging against the existence of storms, we simply clean up the mess and consider how we can avoid the types of damage we faced in the future.
Resilience is not cultivated in an environment free of conflict and adversity. Ultimately, resilient teaching is not about being in a school that is without problems or working with students who are without problems. These schools and students do not exist anyway. Resilient teaching is about preparing for the best while expecting the worst. Resilient teaching is about creativity and planning, patience and flexibility all at the same time.
So to all the teachers who exemplify resilient teaching every day, kudos to you! Let's do all we can to help both our students and our colleagues be more resilient every day.
As I celebrate Teacher Appreciation Week, I've been reflecting on what teachers contribute to students, schools, and the community at large. I've also been reflecting on what teachers can't contribute to students, schools, and the community at large. I am typically what some folks (like my husband) would call a "control freak," wanting to be "in charge" and controlling what goes on around me. My sisters would confirm that I've been bossy since childhood (ah, the joys of being first born!), and because of these traits of mine, I've become somewhat of an expert in determining what I can control and what I can't.
Figuring out what we can control and what we can't control is important to mental health. I can control how prepared I am for an emergency, but I can't control how extensively I am affected by that emergency. The recent tornadoes in my home state of Alabama show this. Many people hid out in their "places of safety" during the storms, which was the right thing to do, but the sheer power and magnitude of the storms made most preparations futile. Does that mean we should not go to places of safety for future storms? No. The lesser magnitude of future storms may make our planning and preparations crucial to our survival. We can only do what we can do and hope our preparations are enough to meet the power and magnitude of what we face.
Teachers face circumstances that vary in power and magnitude every day. Some of those circumstances can be faced with creativity and planning. Other circumstances can only be faced with patience and flexibility. Figuring out when you need to plan and when you need to be flexible can be the key to a healthier approach to teaching and learning. To me, there is one main circumstance teachers can control, and one main circumstance that they can't control.
Teachers can control what goes on each day in the classroom. Lesson planning is essential to a successful school day. Students need to be busy and engaged throughout the day in order for learning to happen. The work students do needs to be all things to all students - interesting, important, and appropriately challenging. A well planned lesson can address both learning needs and potential discipline problems that may arise.
Teachers can't control what students bring into the classroom each day. Even the most well planned lesson can be sabotaged by students who are belligerent and defiant. The real question then becomes why the student is belligerent and defiant. To me, this is where teaching and learning become truly complicated. Each student is bringing a different issue to the classroom each day, and how much those issues affect their learning (and your teaching) determines what remedies you might try. Some students are upset with parents or friends. Others may be dealing with poverty or abuse or substance abuse at home. Still others may be upset with you or another teacher in the building about their grades or the amount of work you assign. And yet others just may be insecure or immature and want attention at inappropriate times.
The task of teachers in these instances is not to "fix" what's wrong with the students, which is what you can't control, but to create an environment in which these issues become minimized, which is what you can control. You cannot make a student's home life better or correct immaturity (at least in the short term!). But you can create a classroom environment that is safe, structured, flexible, and engaging so students can leave their personal issues at the door and work on the tasks at hand while they are with you. You can leave your own personal issues at the door as well, not bringing to your classroom your home issues or insecurities or personal biases. You can explain students' behavior as the result of situations they are in rather than personal flaws they cannot change.
Some teachers work in environments in which poverty, abuse, illiteracy, and behavior problems abound. In these environments, it may seem as though no amount of planning or creativity will ameliorate the issues students bring into the classroom. In fact, teachers in these environments often feel like those folks who lost everything in the storms. They prepared, they planned, they did all the right things, but in the end, it was all for nothing. They only escaped with their lives, and in many cases, some didn't even escape with that. Teachers in high-risk schools often feel beaten up by the storms of their circumstances. They may learn to be helpless in these environments, which can lead to their lack of motivation to do the creative planning necessary to make learning happen successfully.
Other teachers work in environments in which students are generally well prepared for learning, but who at times may be immature or uninterested in learning. In these environments, instead of feeling helpless and defeated, teachers typically feel pretty confident about what they do and how they do it. These teachers tend to plan well and are creative with most of their lessons. Most of their students are compliant and even thriving under their tutelage. But these teachers can be blind to the reasons why some students are not successful. They may hold so tightly to their procedures and plans that they cannot imagine why some students aren't engaged or even enthralled by their teaching. These teachers need more patience and flexibility than planning and creativity. These teachers are like those who weather less severe storms. They plan and prepare and protect themselves from the winds and rain, and they usually escape with little to no damage. But some damage can happen, and instead of raging against the existence of storms, we simply clean up the mess and consider how we can avoid the types of damage we faced in the future.
Resilience is not cultivated in an environment free of conflict and adversity. Ultimately, resilient teaching is not about being in a school that is without problems or working with students who are without problems. These schools and students do not exist anyway. Resilient teaching is about preparing for the best while expecting the worst. Resilient teaching is about creativity and planning, patience and flexibility all at the same time.
So to all the teachers who exemplify resilient teaching every day, kudos to you! Let's do all we can to help both our students and our colleagues be more resilient every day.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
The Trouble with Data
Personal Note: I've been away from the blog for about a month due to the birth of my second son, Simon. He's a beautiful, easygoing, healthy baby boy who has been a wonderful addition to our family. Now, back to the blog...
As I've been taking care of my new baby, I've been thinking about how the worship of data has gotten us into a real mess in education today. The whole drive for education reform today revolves around how to produce and interpret data generated by students in the classroom. Race to the Top, and its predecessor No Child Left Behind, require the generation and use of data to make crucial decisions about how to educate children in public schools. The data is used to determine school improvement efforts, school reform efforts, and, if reformers have their way, teacher effectiveness efforts. I'm afraid that educating children has taken a back seat to the production and interpretation of data in our schools today. Instead of data reflecting what goes on in schools, data is now what is done in schools.
In science, a study is only as good as its data. Scientists spend more time planning how they are going to collect their data than they spend actually collecting it. This planning is crucial because variables need to be controlled. The goal of a scientific study is to determine cause and effect - does Variable A cause Variable B? Scientists have to consider all potential variables that could cause Variable B to occur in order to isolate Variable A's causative power. Scientists have to plan the type of data to collect. They have to plan how they are going to analyze the data before they even begin to collect it. They consult with others to figure out whether their plan for data collection and analysis is sound. The actual data collection moment may take less than an hour, while the planning takes months or even years. Once they collect the data, they analyze it and share it with more colleagues who provide advice on the analysis and the potential interpretation of the data. They work with others to generate questions about what the data means. The scientific process even involves seeking out critics who will look for weak spots in the data collection, analysis, and interpretations so that only the strongest research will be published.
We in education really only have ourselves to blame for this mess we're in. We produce mounds and mounds of data each day - attendance data, assessment data, discipline data, and on and on. Yet, we have done relatively little with this data over the years. We may have looked at the data. We probably even analyzed some of the data. But, in general, we have committed two major errors with our data:
1. We do not collect our data with any plan for how we are going to analyze and interpret it.
2. And we do not share our data with others.
We commit the first error because we typically do not plan for data collection with the purpose of research in mind. We simply collect data, and after the fact realize that we should probably analyze it to see if the data shows that Variable B happened. By haphazardly collecting data, we cannot know if Variable A is the cause of Variable B because we did not control for any of the other variables that may have also caused Variable B. Did the standardized test score our students earned last March occur because the teacher was awesome? How can we know if we haven't controlled for the multitude of variables that have influenced that test score - past experience, parental involvement, poverty, number of snow days that year, etc.? Generating data last March does not automatically mean we can interpret that data in ways that provide definitive conclusions about any variable that wasn't controlled originally. And in schools, very few variables are controlled, ever.
The second error is perhaps our most grievous. If we are collecting data purposefully, and if we are analyzing it to make meaningful decisions, then we are doing a poor job of communicating our data and conclusions to a wider audience. We should be our own best advocates for what is going on in the classroom because we are in the best position to know whether a teaching strategy or a curricular program is effective. We should be collecting data with the analysis in mind, and once we analyze our data, we should share our findings with the world. If we did those things, we would not be in the current climate of hostility toward education that we are in now. We would be able to discuss our practices and results authoritatively instead of defensively. We do not teach our teachers and administrators how to conduct sound research in the classroom or school. So instead of getting educational research that is meaningful and important, we get eduspeak and excuses.
Can you use standardized tests or course grades or graduation rates or discipline records to determine effective teachers and schools? Yes, if that data is collected with these ends in mind. Yes, if that data is collected in a way that controls for the extraneous variables that also can cause test scores or course grades or graduation rates or discipline incidents. Until the data we collect in schools is collected purposefully, the conclusions we reach from the data is speculative at best.
We need to take charge of our data so we can speak with our own voices in the education debate. How much more powerful would our arguments for reform be if our conclusions stood the test of scientific criticism? To me, the best charter school is not one that eliminates tenure or has shiny new lab equipment. The best charter school would be one that seeks to collect data purposefully and is willing to share openly the results of its experimental teaching practices, good, bad, or ugly. But to me, I don't see any reason why a regular public school couldn't be like this. Good data collection is not rocket science - it's just science.
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