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In less than twelve minutes, National Board Certified Teacher and author Roxanna Elden with humor and candor distills the crucible facing new teachers and their students. I’ve embedded the video below; it’s an extremely worthwhile watch.

Within the TED-style talk, Elden mentions her book See Me After Class, which I’ve read and can attest is a must-have for any new and prospective teachers. She facetiously refers to it as “Hard Liquor for the Teacher’s Soul.”

 Anyway, Elden, a Miami high school teacher who just finished her tenth year in the classroom, is one to watch. My favorite line in her speech: "...New teachers propping themselves up on energy drinks and constantly measuring themselves against a fictional [superteacher] character are a lot more likely to make avoidable mistakes."

We need more teachers with her communication skills. Here is the video

The Myth of the Super Teacher from EdWriters on Vimeo.

I spent time over the weekend with a recent graduate from an Ivy League university. He’s a brilliant, articulate, cosmopolitan guy who I am confident will rise to the top of his field (international relations). We started to talk about teaching— particularly Teach For America (TFA), which several of his peers were joining— and I started to get upset.

“Isn’t it a good idea to get the top people in there?” he asked, echoing a compelling talking point.

My condensed answer: TFA recruits aren’t the top people because they don’t have quality training. They could be the top people if they worked at becoming experts in the craft of teaching, which takes time, but since they haven’t done that at the beginning, they don’t yet qualify to be top people.

Success as a student and success as a teacher are extremely different things. As a student, you control almost all of your variables. As a new teacher, you need to get the most out of twenty-five or thirty other people, all of whom are unique individuals in a community that you don’t deeply understand since you haven’t been a part of it. You have to understand a range of pedagogical strategies, you have to be an expert on the curriculum, and you have to master the delicate balancing act of managing the classroom.

Teaching is a professional craft. Thinking that any high-scoring college student could come in and excel demeans it as a profession. No one would consider letting smart English majors perform surgery on low-income patients, or allowing cum laude math majors to do legal work for poor clients. Also, would you want to have been taught your whole career by rookies who didn’t study education and had no training? Would you consider them “top people” for the job?

I worried that I was starting to sound shrill and cut myself off. Indeed, TFA-ers are no one’s enemy. They are idealistic graduates who want to help for a few years. The market for them exists due to a shortage of highly qualified teachers.

The talk turned to other high-stress professions. Another member of the conversation mentioned oncology, a field with a built-in reservoir of disappointing outcomes.

He said, “I guess in that job you just need to tell yourself that you’ve done everything you can and you can’t take it too much to heart when someone dies.”

Again, I bristled at his well-meaning statement. (Jerome Groopman’s brilliant book How Doctors Think is still fresh in my mind.) No, I thought. Doctors can harm their patients. Indeed, they will make wrong calls on treatment and some of those decisions will have catastrophic consequences. Subscribing wholesale to the palliative there-was-nothing-I-could-do is a cop-out. Reflective doctors will realize those mistakes, learn from them, and become better.

There is a straight line here to teaching. Teachers, particularly inexperienced ones, can do harm. Like a doctor, a teacher does not provide either a positive or neutral experience his charges. Teachers can hold kids back in their development, whether by bad decisions, lack of craft knowledge, or inability to provide the attention a student needs. It doesn’t take malicious intent to hurt someone. The important thing is taking on the hard work to become better.

Efforts are being made to elevate teaching as a profession; the U.S. Department of Education’s RESPECT Project is one important example. My conversation with the Ivy League graduate clarified to me how far we need to go as a society in recognizing teaching as a true professional craft.

Stuffing under-prepared rookies’ ears with confidence and sending them into the fray doesn’t have a net neutral impact on our students or our national conversation on education.

The teaching profession is in the early stages of a massive overhaul, and many advocates are looking to the medical profession for a model of how to improve the quality and respect for teachers.

It’s been just over a century since the Flexner Report revolutionized and dramatically improved the training of doctors. Here is a Wikipedia summary of its legacy:

  • A physician receives at least six, and preferably eight, years of post-secondary formal instruction, nearly always in a university setting;
  • Medical training adheres closely to the scientific method and is thoroughly grounded in human physiology and biochemistry. Medical research adheres fully to the protocols of scientific research;
  • Average physician quality has increased significantly;
  • No medical school can be created without the permission of the state government. Likewise, the size of existing medical schools is subject to state regulation;
  • Each state branch of the American Medical Association has oversight over the conventional medical schools located within the state;
  • Medicine in the USA and Canada becomes a highly paid and well-respected profession.

Teaching could certainly use such an upgrade. Indeed, in the past two years the teaching profession has been handed several would-be Flexner Reports. Will any of them break through? Over my next several posts I will examine the recommendations and feasibility of three aspiring Flexners:

I’ll also examine key similarities and differences between the medical and teaching professions, including ideas about how one can learn from the others.

Do you think modern medicine provides a useful model for revamping the teaching profession? Comments are most welcome.

Ever been to a “prep” rally? It will be hard to top the one at Jennings High School in Jennings, Missouri where earlier this month teachers pumped up their students to take the EOC (End of Course) tests with a hip hop video.

The 4 minutes of rapping educators has gone viral. Check it out:

 

What do you think: is this brilliant and motivating? Sad misallocation of energy and resources? Harmless fun? Superficial noise? Teachers authentically connecting with students? Something else? 

Your comments are welcome.

What Teaches Make

 

 

 

 

 

Taylor Mali’s brilliant performance poem “What Teachers Make” has over 3.8 million views on YouTube. If you haven’t checked it out, it’s a must-see.

Mali, a former teacher and now full-time globe-trotting poet/advocate/recruiter for the teaching profession, has followed up his most successful poem with a book of the same title.  I read it in 2 sittings and it made me feel great— it’s a highly recommended “just-cause” or end-of-year gift for a teacher in your life. 

The small, novelty-sized hardcover is broken into 26 vignettes, with several of Mali’s poems mixed in. The book has heart and Mali’s love of teaching shines through. What elevates What Teachers Make above the next paean to teachers on the shelf is Mali’s irreverence and a keen ability to tell big stories with short word counts. He also gave me a few ideas for tweaks in my own classroom, most notably in the chapter titled “No One Leaves My Class Early For Any Reason.” I do need to tighten up about that. 

What Teachers Make is filled with enjoyable anecdotes and nuggets of wisdom. It’s a light, recommended read. Here’s one epitomizing pearl to from the first chapter, ”Making Kids Work Hard”: 

“[Secretary of State Henry] Kissinger asked an aide to produce a report. The aide submitted his report, but it was returned to him later that afternoon with a note from Kissinger that said: “I’m sorry. This is not good enough.” The aide felt like he’d been busted because he knew Kissinger was right. He made the report significantly better and re-submitted it, but it came back again with a similar note: “This is still not nearly good enough. Now the aide was scared! He canceled his plans for the evening and stayed up all night working on the report. He caught careless errors he hadn’t seen before and added a section of analysis that tied the whole thing together. He felt he had done his absolute best, so instead of just submitting the report as he had done twice before, he made an appointment to deliver the report to Kissinger personally. “Mr. Secretary,” he said, “I have written this report three times and twice you have sent it back saying it was not good enough. Sir, what I am handing you no is the absolute best I can do, so if it is still not good enough, then I am not the right person for the job.” Kissinger thanked him, smiled, and took the report, adding, “Excellent. This time I will actually read it.”

This week’s release of the MetLife Survey of the American Teacher: Teachers, Parents, and the Economy illustrates just how fear-plagued our schools have become. The whole report is worth reading, but check out this data (interspersed with my commentary):

In the past five years the number of teachers who feel their jobs are secure dropped from 92% to 64%. I guess accountability hawks would welcome this decline— they want teachers to sweat from year to year over whether their test scores have shown enough value added. I see it as a surge of fear, pushing more and more potentially strong teachers out of the profession.

29% of teachers report being fairly likely or very likely to leave the teaching profession within the next five years to go into a different occupation. That’s up from 17%, nearly doubling the number from just two years ago. When you add the retiring baby boomers to that number, we find ourselves facing unprecedented turnover. Recruiting, training, and supporting strong teachers who stay in the profession must be a priority. But what type of profession will they be entering?

Only 44% of teachers report being very satisfied with their jobs— a fifteen-point drop since 2009 and the lowest in over 20 years. The economic downtown has injected significant stress into an already-struggling school system.

72% of parents and 65% of students worry about their family not having enough money for the things they need. Over 60% of parents worry about losing or not being able to find a job. Interestingly, there is a startling information gap between parents and teachers. 76% of teachers report decreases in their schools’ budgets in the past year. However, only 35% of parents thought their child’s school budget decreased; 32% didn’t know. The report goes further: “Lower income parents are particularly unsure— nearly half (47%) whose household income is less than $50,000 [did not know].”

66% of teachers report that their school has had layoffs in the past year. Layoffs are everywhere, ripping away much-needed teachers and poisoning the atmosphere. The toxic “last in, first out” debates breed generational bitterness in an era when teachers need to unify.

Pessimism and worry are pervasive in American schools. Contending with elimination of services, suffocating poverty, more layoffs, larger classes, and an accountability regime at odds with genuine teaching and learning, America’s teachers are freaked out.

Two must-reads on the fallout from the value-added movement:

“‘Creative… Motivating’ and Fired”

Top-notch reporter Bill Turque at the Washington Post dropped this barnburner article today about Sarah Wysocki, a DCPS teacher who received praise from everyone she worked with… and then got fired over test scores. The whole article is a must-read, but the thing that leaped most off the page to me was how likely it seems that Wysocki, a fifth grade teacher, was the victim of a sinister consequence of high-stakes testing: cheating. Turque writes:

[DCPS chief of human capital Jason] Kamras said the disconnect between the [excellent] observations of Wysocki’s classroom and her value-added scores was “quite rare.” Most teachers with poor ratings in one area, he said, are also substandard in the other.

“It doesn’t necessarily suggest that anything wrong happened,” he said. “Sometimes it’s just not possible to know for sure.”

Wysocki said there is another possible explanation: Many students arrived at her class in August 2010 after receiving inflated test scores in fourth grade.

Fourteen of her 25 students had attended Barnard Elementary. The school is one of 41 in which publishers of the D.C. Comprehensive Assessment System tests found unusually high numbers of answer sheet erasures in spring 2010, with wrong answers changed to right. Twenty-nine percent of Barnard’s 2010 fourth-graders scored at the advanced level in reading, about five times the District average.

D.C. and federal investigators are examining whether there was cheating, but school officials stand by the city’s test scores.

Wysocki’s firing is a travesty; things don’t have to be this way. Can you imagine any other profession where a successful, much-respected team member is sacked by an opaque algorithm that no one understands?

“Hard-Working Teachers, Sabotaged When Student Test Scores Slip”

In The New York Times, Michael Winerip looks into Brooklyn’s high-achieving P.S. 146 where the school community was shocked to learn that because their already-high test scores evidently didn’t go up enough, revered faculty leaders were rated as bottom-of-the-barrel. Winerip writes:

How could this possibly have happened?

The short answer is: Numbers lie.

And not only do they lie, but they are out of date, in this case covering student test results from 2007 to 2010.

Though 89 percent of P.S. 146 fifth graders were rated proficient in math in 2009, the year before, as fourth graders, 97 percent were rated as proficient. This resulted in the worst thing that can happen to a teacher in America today: negative value was added.

The difference between 89 percent and 97 percent proficiency at P.S. 146 is the result of three children scoring a 2 out of 4 instead of a 3 out of 4.

Would you want your child’s teachers working within this system— one ready to dole out public humiliation over the most arbitrary, minute stat movements?

Who is being educated--- and what are they really learning from this?

I was looking forward to seeing Detachment, the new teacher film starring Adrien Brody and directed by Tony Kaye. With a very strong supporting cast (Marcia Gay Harden, Tim Blake Nelson, Christina Hendricks, Bryan Cranston, James Caan) and a compelling trailer featuring Brody as a tortured soul struggling to connect with his students, the movie seemed right up my alley. As a 31-year-old teacher and movie fanatic, I am Detachment's target audience; this should have gone well.


Detachment arrives in theaters on March 16, but it's already available on demand so I ponied up my $9.99. This movie has all of the trappings of an intelligent indie flick--- stellar cast, relevant social issues, and a notoriously egomaniacal director heralded by some as a genius.

It's hard to know where to begin to explain what a mess this film is. With its contrived story, one-dimensional characters, and in-your-face stylized visuals, Detachment takes edu-hand-wringing to new, blood-and-tear-soaked depths.

As a film major at NYU, I watched many crappy student films; in fact I made a few myself. Aside from experimental visuals that don’t pay off, the crappiness was most often epitomized by a lack of authenticity in the script. For example, students made police procedurals without having a clue about detectives’ reality— they took shortcuts by guessing or basing their stories on other inauthentic sources. The results, intended to play as dramatic, came out flat or even silly. Detachment suffers from the same syndrome; the script feels as if the writer (Carl Lund) dreamed up the worst things that could happen in public schools, put them on steroids, populated the scenes with the miserable characters, then let it run wild. In Detachment, suicides (there are 2 in the movie) aren’t “shocking”— they are a naked ploy for manufactured emotion.

Kaye leans on his audience’s vague, negative prejudices against the public school system. There’s no solid story here; just a bunch of lost/evil souls and a sense of decay. Many details will ring false to anyone who has spent time in a classroom. On his first day as a sub, Adrien Brody’s character enters his English 11 class to find all of the students quietly sitting at their desks waiting for him. Then, after he makes a brief introductory speech, the kids suddenly morph into profane hooligans. Two curse him out and one assaults him, chucking his briefcase across the room.

The movie avoids the very real issue of de facto racial segregation in urban schools. In Detachment, classes are racially diverse and pretty much everyone acts like a deadbeat. The movie takes the easy way out of facing any root causes of public education’s struggles other than lambasting absentee parents— and in this community all of the parents are either absent or over-the-top abusive.

As the film’s centerpiece, Adrien Brody emanates handsome ennui. He plays Henry Barthes, a glazed out guy with no friends and trauma in his past who comes to a nameless urban high school as a recommended substitute teacher. He doesn’t get mad when kids curse him out and he says a few things about how everyone is in pain and that literature is needed to defend and preserve our minds. All of that would be fine— Brody’s charisma manages to blunt some of the dialogue’s preachiness— except most of Detachment’s 98-minute running time is eaten by a miscellany of misery that ventures freely into exploitation.

In the world of Detachment, students are mean-spirited, profanity-addicted nihilists. (The one nice girl, played by the director’s daughter, publicly commits suicide.) Teachers are sadsacks or menaces: Tim Blake Nelson plays a teacher who can’t get anyone to listen to him at school or at home, so he hangs daily on the schoolyard chain-link fence in the crucifixion pose, wallowing in his invisibility. As an overwhelmed guidance counselor, Lucy Liu screams at and ejects an obnoxious student from her office— then weeps about it. William Petersen is a scary, borderline nonverbal teacher who in class shows Nazi images and glowers. Marcia Gay Harden, on the verge of losing her job as principal, delivers a public address announcement while curled in the fetal position on the floor of her office.

Outside of school, Barthes engages in various acts of sadness. He cries on a public bus, takes in and rehabilitates a teenage prostitute (a major storyline that reeks of cliches), role-plays with his dementia-addled grandfather, and screams in the face of a night-shift nurse.

The words “in your face” never left my mind during this film. Visually, director Tony Kaye, who regretfully doubles as director of photography, relies enormously on close-ups, often with point-of-view shots awkwardly placing the subject in the center of the frame. The effect is not arresting, but claustrophobic. Mixed in at tense moments are bits of crude chalk-on-blackboard animation that distract from rather than support the narrative. Worst of all, the film is peppered with cutaways to Adrien Brody being interviewed in tight close-up, his hair distractingly much longer than in the action of the film, philosophizing vaguely about lack of fulfillment and generational decline. These seemingly improvised clips carry the intellectual weight of a freshman dorm bull session. (“We’re failing… we’re failing.”) It’s never entirely clear whether Brody is in character as Barthes or if he’s just spitballing.

It all ends with Barthes visiting the teenage prostitute Erica at the “Guardian Angels Foster Care Facility,” a verdant resort-like institution where they share a sunny embrace. Then he goes to school and reads an excerpt from Poe’s The Fall of the House of Usher to a classroom that has literally transforms into a ravaged wasteland.

My fear is that non-educator audiences will be tricked by the gravitas of Brody (“I’m a hollow man. You see me, but I’m not here.”) and the overall grimness of the story into thinking that this is a valuable portrait of American education.  One viewer from the 2011 Tribeca Film Festival probably cribbed Detachment’s PR copy by describing it a “gritty, edgy, shocking, and ultimately important film.” Hollywood.com praised its “unflinching realism.” Don’t believe the hype. This is a meandering mosaic of unfocused bitterness, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.

Last week the Brookings Institution released a report by Tom Loveless declaring the Common Core standards to be big waste— two years before they even go into effect. The top highlight listed on the report’s website lays it bare:

Predicting the Effect of the Common Core State Standards on Student Achievement: The Common Core will have little to no effect on student achievement.

Bummer.

Loveless lays out three “theorized effects” of how proponents believe the Common Core will improve education. They are:

  • Quality theory: “The Common Core will raise the quality of education nationally by defining a higher-quality curriculum in English-language-arts and mathematics than is currently taught.”
  • Rigorous performance standards theory: “A new Common Core test will presumably end such discrepancies [between state tests] by evaluating the same standards for every state, and these standards are to be more rigorous than those currently used.”
  • Standardization theory: “One high-quality textbook— or perhaps a few that are aligned with the same content standards— used by all American students attending the same grade would be an improvement over the status quo.”

Sounds pretty good to all of use doe-eyed educators who have been baffled by the patchwork system out there. But then Loveless shreds those “theorized effects,” wielding NAEP score data with idol-smashing fervor. He writes:

“…[D]o not expect much from the Common Core. Education leaders often talk about standards as if they are a system of weights and measures— the word “benchmarks” is used promiscuously as a synonym for standards. But the term is misleading by inferring that there is a real, known standards for measurement. Standards in education are best understood as aspirational, and like a strict diet or prudent plans to save money for the future, they represent good intentions that are not often realized.”

Sure, standards alone will not lift public education.  But better curriculum and better trained teachers will.  The transition to Common Core standards is a golden opportunity for high-quality professional development centered on improving instruction and better (though unfortunately not fewer) tests. It’s an alarm clock moment for teachers to share expertise around crafting quality curricula.

The standards themselves provide just the spark— they won’t move mountains alone.

I’ve had two full days of PD on “unwrapping” (great edu-jargon) Common Core standards and it looks good to me. I think these guideposts/standards/benchmarks/aspirations will make classrooms better. I’ve pasted at the bottom of this blog (it’s rather long) the ten College and Career Readiness (CCR) anchor standards for writing, as well as the first writing standards, tracked from grade 6 to 12.

It’s smart, noncontroversial stuff. I look forward to my two-year-old daughter Sadie building these skills in her schooling. Declaring the Common Core standards useless or counterproductive at this point doesn’t make sense to me.

The will and the funds seem to be in place for an unprecedented influx of quality professional development. In 2014 we should have good standards, better-prepared teachers, and better curriculum. Why quit before we’ve begun?

Here are the ten CCR anchor standards for writing:

Text Types and Purposes

  • 1. Write arguments to support claims in an analysis of substantive topics or texts, using valid reasoning and relevant and sufficient evidence.
  • 2. Write informative/explanatory texts to examine and convey complex ideas and information clearly and accurately through the effective selection, organization, and analysis of content.
  • 3. Write narratives to develop real or imagined experiences or events using effective technique, well-chosen details, and well-structured event sequences.

Production and Distribution of Writing

  • 4. Produce clear and coherent writing in which the development, organization, and style are appropriate to task, purpose, and audience.
  • 5. Develop and strengthen writing as needed by planning, revising, editing, rewriting, or trying a new approach.
  • 6. Use technology, including the Internet, to produce and publish writing and to interact and collaborate with others.

Research to Build and Present Knowledge

  • 7. Conduct short as well as more sustained research projects based on focused questions, demonstrating understanding of the subject under investigation.
  • 8. Gather relevant information from multiple print and digital sources, assess the credibility and accuracy of each source, and integrate the information while avoiding plagiarism.
  • 9. Draw evidence from literary or informational texts to support analysis, reflection, and research.

Range of Writing

  • 10. Write routinely over extended time frames (time for research, reflection, and revision) and shorter time frames (a single sitting or a day or two) for a range of tasks, purposes, and audiences.

 

And here is the first ELA standard for writing, tracked from 6th through 12th grade. To my eyes, it builds with logical, appropriate rigor:

W.6.1. Write arguments to support claims with clear reasons and relevant evidence.

  • Introduce claim(s) and organize the reasons and evidence clearly.
  • Support claim(s) with clear reasons and relevant evidence, using credible sources and demonstrating an understanding of the topic or text.
  • Use words, phrases, and clauses to clarify the relationships among claim(s) and reasons.
  • Establish and maintain a formal style.
  • Provide a concluding statement or section that follows from the argument presented.

 

W.7.1. Write arguments to support claims with clear reasons and relevant evidence.

  • Introduce claim(s), acknowledge alternate or opposing claims, and organize the reasons and evidence logically.
  • Support claim(s) with logical reasoning and relevant evidence, using accurate, credible sources and demonstrating an understanding of the topic or text.
  • Use words, phrases, and clauses to create cohesion and clarify the relationships among claim(s), reasons, and evidence.
  • Establish and maintain a formal style.
  • Provide a concluding statement or section that follows from and supports the argument presented.

 

W.8.1. Write arguments to support claims with clear reasons and relevant evidence.

  • Introduce claim(s), acknowledge and distinguish the claim(s) from alternate or opposing claims, and organize the reasons and evidence logically.
  • Support claim(s) with logical reasoning and relevant evidence, using accurate, credible sources and demonstrating an understanding of the topic or text.
  • Use words, phrases, and clauses to create cohesion and clarify the relationships among claim(s), counterclaims, reasons, and evidence.
  • Establish and maintain a formal style.
  • Provide a concluding statement or section that follows from and supports the argument presented.

 

W.9-10.1. Write arguments to support claims in an analysis of substantive topics or texts, using valid reasoning and relevant and sufficient evidence.

  • Introduce precise claim(s), distinguish the claim(s) from alternate or opposing claims, and create an organization that establishes clear relationships among claim(s), counterclaims, reasons, and evidence.
  • Develop claim(s) and counterclaims fairly, supplying evidence for each while pointing out the strengths and limitations of both in a manner that anticipates the audience’s knowledge level and concerns.
  • Use words, phrases, and clauses to link the major sections of the text, create cohesion, and clarify the relationships between claim(s) and reasons, between reasons and evidence, and between claim(s) and counterclaims.
  • Establish and maintain a formal style and objective tone while attending to the norms and conventions of the discipline in which they are writing.
  • Provide a concluding statement or section that follows from and supports the argument presented.

 

W.11-12.1. Write arguments to support claims in an analysis of substantive topics or texts, using valid reasoning and relevant and sufficient evidence.

  • Introduce precise, knowledgeable claim(s), establish the significance of the claim(s), distinguish the claim(s) from alternate or opposing claims, and create an organization that logically sequences claim(s), counterclaims, reasons, and evidence.
  • Develop claim(s) and counterclaims fairly and thoroughly, supplying the most relevant evidence for each while pointing out the strengths and limitations of both in a manner that anticipates the audience’s knowledge level, concerns, values, and possible biases.
  • Use words, phrases, and clauses as well as varied syntax to link the major sections of the text, create cohesion, and clarify the relationships between claim(s) and reasons, between reasons and evidence, and between claim(s) and counterclaims.
  • Establish and maintain a formal style and objective tone while attending to the norms and conventions of the discipline in which they are writing.
  • Provide a concluding statement or section that follows from and supports the argument presented.

I read The New York Times education section regularly, and it’s usually great. Michael Winerip in particular is definitely one of the best ed reporters out there. (Check out his depressing story from earlier this week about sub-literate work that earns passing scores on the New York State English Regents exam.)

I also appreciate that the Times still features an education section on their homepage; CNN, The Washington Post, and many other major news outlets have buried theirs. The Times has actually gone even further to establish SchoolBook, an excellent site dedicated to “news, data, and conversation about schools in New York City.”

However, on the nytimes.com homepage at 1 p.m. on Wednesday, February 8, 2012, here were the three features headlines:

Aide Accused of Taping Sexual Acts With Students

California: More Sex Abuse Charges

School Linked to Abuse Claims Will Replace Entire Faculty

Fifty million students. Four million teachers. Three top stories. I’m hanging my head.

Am I an unfair cherry-picker or does it feel like bad apples and sex scandals receive outsized education media attention?

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