Showing papers in "Phi Delta Kappan in 2004"

New Assessment Beliefs for a New School Mission

Abstract: We have inherited an assessment legacy that has actually prevented us from tapping the full power of assessment for school improvement, Mr. Stiggins maintains. He offers a new vision of assessment that has the potential of bringing about remarkable gains in student achievement. IN RECENT years, we have achieved major breakthroughs in our understanding of the effective use of assessment to benefit -- not merely check for -- student learning. We have gained new insights into cognitive processes and have succeeded in connecting them to new assessment strategies that promise unprecedented achievement gains for students. Yet in districts, schools, and classrooms across the nation, educators still assess student learning the way their predecessors did 60 years ago because they have not been given the opportunity to learn about these new insights and practices. The time has come to take advantage of this new understanding of the potential of assessment and to fundamentally rethink the relationship between assessment practices and effective schools in the United States. For decades, beginning with districtwide testing in the 1960s and subsequently expanding to statewide, national, and international testing, we have believed that the path to school improvement is paved with more and better standardized tests. The mistake we have made at all levels is to believe that once-a-year standardized assessments alone can provide sufficient information and motivation to increase student learning. In fact, this belief in the power of standardized testing has blinded public officials and school leaders to a completely different application of assessment -- day-to-day classroom assessment -- that has been shown to trigger remarkable gains in student achievement. Before discussing the evidence of the power of classroom assessment, it is useful to examine the specific reasons why standardized tests are insufficient as the foundation for assessment's role in our school improvement efforts. A NaIve and Counterproductive Assessment Legacy Let me be clear about my mission here. The arguments I advance do not arise from a desire to end accountability-oriented standardized testing. Such tests do provide opportunities for educators to reflect on what is and is not being achieved. If educators don't take advantage of these opportunities, it is not the fault of the tests. I will suggest specific ways for users to take far greater advantage of standardized tests in the future. But for assessment to become truly useful, politicians, school leaders, and society in general must come to understand the gross insufficiency of these tests as a basis for assessment for school improvement. My argument is not with the idea of accountability per se. As public institutions under contract with their communities to help students learn, schools should be compelled to present evidence that they are doing their job. If standardized tests can provide part of that evidence, we should use them. Besides, the demand for accountability is helping educators clarify achievement expectations. This has already produced dividends in the form of focused standards -- a solid foundation for greater student success -- and the development of standards-referenced tests. When carefully developed, such tests provide educators with the assurance that good instruction will result in higher scores. My argument is with those who believe that standardized testing for public accountability harnesses the full power of assessment in the service of better schools. I can find little evidence that this is the case. My quest for research on the effects of high-stakes tests per se on student achievement has yielded just one study that directly addresses this question. Margaret Raymond and Eric Hanushek report tiny test score gains attributable to the presence of high-stakes tests.1 But at the same time, Audrey Amrein and David Berliner, among others, report that such tests are often accompanied by such negative outcomes as reduced achievement, increased dropout rates, and reduced graduation rates -- especially for minority students. …

Tipping Point: From Feckless Reform to Substantive Instructional Improvement

Abstract: Even though we already know the best way to improve instruction, we persist in pursuing strategies that have repeatedly failed. Mr. Schmoker urges us to break free of our addiction to strategic planning and large-scale reform. THERE ARE simple, proven, affordable structures that exist right now and could have a dramatic, widespread impact on schools and achievement -- in virtually any school. An astonishing level of agreement has emerged on this point. Indeed, Milbrey McLaughlin speaks for a legion of esteemed educators and researchers when she asserts that "the most promising strategy for sustained, substantive school improvement is building the capacity of school personnel to function as a professional learning community" (emphasis added).1 But here's the problem. Such "learning communities" -- rightly defined -- are still extremely rare. For years, they have been supplanted and obscured by hugely popular, but patently discredited, reform and improvement models. The record is clear that these failed, unnecessarily complex reforms have had only the most negligible impact on what should be our core concern: the quality of teaching students receive. As Jim Collins has famously found, any organization attempting improvement must first "confront the brutal facts" about itself.2 In our case, the facts point to a fairly stark choice and an unprecedented opportunity for better schools. The place to begin is with a hard look at the evidence against conventional reform and improvement efforts -- and at the evidence that argues for the right kind of "learning communities." The Rise (and Fall) of 'Strategic Planning' In the years since "reform" first became a byword in education circles, "strategic planning" has had a pervasive influence on reform and improvement efforts. It was given a big boost by people like William Cook (some called it the "Bill Cook model"), an organizational theorist who eventually wrote a popular book on how to adapt strategic planning for schools.3 The terms and trappings of this process reach into virtually every school and district. In the late 1980s, I began to work closely with schools to develop such strategic (sometimes "comprehensive" or "systemic") plans. Led by sharp, well-intentioned people, the work required days of dialogue involving large swaths of school and community stakeholders. There were procedures for conducting wide-ranging "needs assessments"; for writing lofty-sounding (but ultimately irrelevant) "mission," "vision," and "belief statements"; for "reaching consensus," setting "goals," and listing "action steps" and "objectives." We then designated "persons responsible," "resources needed," "evaluation," and "timelines" for the abundance of goals, action steps, and objectives we had set. All of this was then transferred into fat, published plans, replete with columns and boxes for each term and category. Some of us began to notice that, once under way, the planning juggernaut was hard to control. Invariably, we wound up committing to far more activities and initiatives than anyone could possibly monitor, much less successfully implement. In selecting the professional or staff development activities that filled our plans, novelty and surface appeal overwhelmingly trumped evidence of school success -- or any direct connection to improvements in teaching. Clarity and coherence suffered. These processes were conducted with no clear definitions of key terms. We worked for years before we learned that the right definition of "goals" was central to success: to have any impact on instruction, they had to be simple, measurable statements linked to student assessments -- not commitments to offer workshops or implement programs.4 It also took us a long time to learn that coherence required that the number of goals be severely limited.5 We wound up setting an impossible number of "goals," even as the word was used almost interchangeably with "action steps" or "objectives. …

Challenges in the No Child Left behind Act for English-Language Learners.

Abstract: One of the most controversial aspects of NCLB is its performance requirements for subgroups within the general student population. Mr. Abedi and Mr. Dietel examine the implications of these requirements for English-language learners and offer recommendations to help states, districts, and schools facilitate the progress of these students. THE NO CHILD Left Behind (NCLB) Act of 2001 requires that all children, including English-language learners (ELLs), reach high standards by demonstrating proficiency in English language arts and mathematics by 2014. Schools and districts must help ELL students, among other subgroups, make continuous progress toward this goal, as measured by performance on state tests, or risk serious consequences. Through these mandates, NCLB establishes high expectations for all students and seeks to reduce the achievement gap between advantaged and disadvantaged students. These are worthy goals, which require extraordinary improvement in student learning. The challenges for English-language learners are especially difficult, involving both educational and technical issues, including: * Historically low ELL performance and very slow improvement. State tests show that ELL students' academic performance is far below that of other students, oftentimes 20 to 30 percentage points lower, and usually shows little improvement across many years. * Measurement accuracy. CRESST research shows that the language demands of tests negatively influence accurate measurement of ELL performance. For the ELL student, tests measure both achievement and language ability. * Instability of the ELL student subgroup. The goal of redesignating high-performing ELL students as language-proficient students causes high achievers among ELL students to exit the subgroup. The consequence is downward pressure on ELL test scores, worsened by the addition of new ELL students, who are typically low achievers. * Factors outside of a school's control. CRESST research shows substantial nonschool effects on student learning even within ELL subgroups. Schools are therefore unable to control all the factors related to student achievement. We elaborate on these ELL issues below and offer some suggestions to help schools meet the NCLB goals. Our comments are based on a series of research reports by Jamal Abedi and others. Low Performance and Slow Improvement CRESST research, supported by the National Assessment of Educational Progress (NAEP) and state test results, shows that English-language learners consistently perform lower than other students and frequently lower than many other subgroups. The Massachusetts Comprehensive Assessment System (MCAS) (a standards-based assessment chosen partly because it has collected six years of data) offers a good example. In 1998, the first year of MCAS, only 7% of ELL students in the Boston Public Schools and 8% of ELL students in Massachusetts overall reached the level of proficient or above in 10th-grade English language arts. This compares unfavorably with the statewide figure of 38% proficient or above for all students -- a gap of approximately 30 percentage points. In the next few years, perhaps spurred by the adoption of the 10th- grade English language arts assessment as a graduation requirement,1 Massachusetts 10th-grade English language arts scores improved substantially, reaching 61% proficient or above statewide in 2003. However, by 2003, the gap between ELL students and Massachusetts students overall had increased to 49 percentage points: 61% for all students versus 12% for ELL students. In Boston, the state's largest district, with approximately 10% ELL students, the gap grew as well, beginning at 11 percentage points in 1998 and increasing to 20 percentage points in 2003. Rapid progress by students overall, combined with policies that test ELL students who have lived in the United States for very short periods of time, both have contributed to a growing ELL achievement gap in many states and school districts. …

Challenges to Importing Japanese Lesson Study: Concerns, Misconceptions, and Nuances:

Abstract: Lesson study is no longer "foreign" to teachers in the U.S., who are increasingly adopting the practice themselves. But, Ms. Chokshi and Ms. Fernandez are finding, they may lack the nuanced understanding that is necessary to use lesson study in the way that it was intended. RECENTLY, there has been a rapid proliferation of lesson study groups in the United States.1 Since deep knowledge about lesson study is rare in the U.S., it is likely that some of these groups have an incomplete understanding of this Japanese practice. Some may focus on structural aspects of the process of lesson study or may mimic its superficial features, while ignoring the underlying rationale for them.2 Our purpose here is to clarify some of the guiding principles behind the process of lesson study by identifying three categories of challenges that U.S. practitioners of lesson study may encounter at different "developmental stages" in their learning about the process. We wish to help lesson study practitioners focus on core principles and more coherently define the purpose of their lesson study work, so that they can move beyond its procedural aspects toward richer, more sustainable practice. Challenges to Launching Lesson Study: Common Concerns and Assumptions In this section, we describe cultural and logistical roadblocks that some individuals perceive when they first encounter lesson study. By addressing these concerns and false assumptions here, we hope to offer both a justification and a rationale for doing lesson study, so that interested individuals can move beyond discussing obstacles and toward actually engaging in the process. 1. Lesson study is an exotic idea from a foreign country, so it can't be done in the U.S. Even though the formal process for lesson study was developed and popularized in Japan, there is nothing "exotic" about it. Lesson study not only possesses many of the features that are recommended by U.S. educators, it also organizes them into a coherent and systematic process. Specifically, lesson study is teacher-directed, since teachers determine how to explore their chosen goals and address student needs through their examination of practice. This examination of practice is concrete, because the main activities of the lesson study process are embedded in the realities of the everyday classroom. Lesson study is also inherently collaborative, since teachers work together with a common purpose and draw from one another's experience and expertise. Finally, sustained lesson study work can help teachers build a shared body of professional knowledge.3 2. U.S. teachers will not be able to find time for doing lesson study. Although lesson study is time-consuming, it can also be highly rewarding, so finding time for it is not impossible once teachers have made a commitment to the practice. According to a survey we recently conducted, a majority of U.S. lesson study groups met at least once a week, and most of these groups even found time to meet during the school day.4 However, time for conducting lesson study will always be limited, so we advise U.S. practitioners to use specific strategies in order to maximize their available time. For example, lesson study meetings can be run more efficiently by assigning roles to group members, distributing materials for feedback beforehand, and so on.5 Administrators can also play a significant role in supporting lesson study, especially with regard to scheduling, obtaining substitute coverage, and allocating funds. Some administrators have found creative ways to maximize their existing resources.6 3. We can't justify lesson study to others without proof that it improves student performance. The concern that lesson study will not allow practitioners to measure and communicate their findings about student performance is closely linked to the U.S. cultural desire for quick results (along with education policy pressures that focus on measurement by means of standardized achievement test scores). …

The Heart of the Matter: Coaching as a Vehicle for Professional Development

Abstract: I N SCHOOLS ACROSS the country, there is increased emphasis on coaching — a process whereby seasoned teachers provide instructional support, professional development opportunities, feedback, and materials to classroom teachers — as a central means to improve instruction and build the capacity of school staff members. Currently, a number of districts with low-performing schools have adopted coaching as a vehicle for the professional development of their teachers, a step that theoretically will translate into improved student performance and achievement. While the rationale for bringing a coach into these schools is rooted in research on creating effective professional development environments for teachers — i.e., providing ongoing supports and forming a community of practice focused on instructional methods, curricular components, and new formats for instructional delivery — there is more to a coaching model than meets the eye. After a year of researching coaching as a vehicle for professional development in the context of a comprehensive school reform model, we found that the coach/teacher relationship is more complicated than expected. We examined coaching as a professional development tool on two fronts: the in-class support that coaches provide to individual teachers and the group-focused professional development activities that coaches lead. Group-focused activities include all-staff meetings, teacher meetings, and study groups. Both the individual and group approaches seek to help teachers effectively implement new instructional formats and practices in their classrooms. In this article, we will share the overarching themes and nuanced insights we identified in

NCLB: HIGHLY QUALIFIED TEACHERS - the Search for Highly Qualified Teachers

Abstract: At the same time that NCLB has given states a mandate to staff their classrooms with "highly qualified teachers," the federal government is pushing a dangerously narrow definition of the knowledge and skills that today's teachers need. OVER THE last decade, policy makers and business leaders have come to realize what parents have always known - teachers make the most difference in student achievement. Thanks to new statistical and analytical methods used by a wide range of researchers, the evidence is mounting that teacher quality accounts for the lion's share of variance in student test scores.1 However, while consensus is growing among school reformers that teachers are the most important school-related determinant of student achievement, there is not much more than ephemeral agreement on what we mean by "teaching quality" or what steps we must take to see that every student has access to high-quality teachers.2 Much has been written about the ideological divide between those who view teaching as highly complex work, requiring professionals with formal, specialized preparation, and those who view it as routine work that most reasonably smart people could do (and would do more readily if "misguided" government or professional regulations did not limit entry into the field).3 The former view is well represented in the research of Linda Darling-Hammond of Stanford University and the oft- cited reports of the National Commission on Teaching and America's Future (NCTAF). NCTAF's reform framework emphasizes teacher education, state licensing, professional accountability, and compensation as the primary means to strengthen teacher quality. These positions are based on evidence that good teachers must have a host of subject-matter and technical knowledge, including the knowledge and skills needed to help every member of an increasingly diverse student population reach much higher academic standards.4 The latter view is best reflected in the statements by Chester Finn and the reports from the Thomas B. Fordham Foundation, which recommend a number of market-based initiatives designed to countermand traditional teacher education practices. For example, the foundation advocates for policies designed to loosen, if not eliminate, existing requirements for those entering the field of education. In their place, Finn would institute short-cut alternative certification programs that he and his followers believe will improve the quality and quantity of the teacher supply.5 The foundation's positions are based on a number of studies that link teachers' scores on aptitude and subject-matter tests to student achievement scores, as well as on the assumption that the teaching profession has - and will continue to have - a very weak knowledge base. The foundation's perspective is that new teachers can easily learn on the job anything they need to know about how to teach. With the reauthorization of the Elementary and Secondary Education Act, more popularly known as the No Child Left Behind (NCLB) Act, what was once a largely academic debate has now become a national controversy with long-term consequences for the public school systems of every state. NCLB's mandate that every teacher of a core academic subject be "highly qualified" by the end of the 2005-06 school year poses unprecedented challenges for state education policy leaders and for practitioners. In the hands of highly capable leaders, this mandate also offers unprecedented opportunities to reshape teacher preparation in ways that will finally produce the gains in student achievement that reformers have long sought. NCLB's "highly qualified teacher" provisions are now familiar to most education watchers. The law states that highly qualified teachers must "hold at least a bachelor's degree from a four-year institution; hold full state certification; and demonstrate competence in their subject area." In addition, the law requires state departments of education to publicly report what they are doing to improve teacher quality along with how their efforts are progressing, including identifying the distribution of "highly qualified" teachers across low- and high- poverty schools. …

Understanding and Meeting the Needs of ESL Students

Abstract: One of the best ways to understand what it is like to be an English- language learner in a U.S. classroom is to hear the stories of immigrant students. Mr. Miller and Mr. Endo use these stories to determine what steps teachers can take to help their students triumph over their struggles with a new culture and a new language. AT LEAST 3.5 million children identified as limited in English proficiency (LEP) are enrolled in U.S. schools.1 Yet many schools have no programs for LEP students, and many others have only minimal English as a second language (ESL) or bilingual classes. In these situations, students are placed in mainstream classes after just one or two years in such programs, and teachers are put on the spot trying to work with students whom they are not trained to help. This problem stems partly from a lack of funds and personnel in the schools, but it also reflects the influence of the government. Despite the 1974 ruling in Lau v. Nichols, a decision that required schools to provide services to LEP students, more recent government education policy has sought to bring immigrant students to "proficient" levels of English within three years.2 This policy contradicts language research that indicates that students need five to seven years in language programs to reach academic proficiency.3 As a result of such government policy, more and more students are being placed into mainstream classrooms before they are ready and without further support from ESL teachers. In this article, we present the personal histories of immigrants so that educators can better understand their experiences. This research technique -- called narrative inquiry -- requires that the stories be told only by individuals.4 While the stories clearly involve interpretations of the facts, it is these interpretations on which identities are founded and through which lives are shaped.5 The stories we share are those of language learners in the U.S. school system, and they show that language learning is a "complex, contextualized, and narrativized experience."6 The Problems English-language learners face a plethora of problems as they begin to build new lives in a strange land. The problems stem primarily from linguistic and cultural differences, and they are not the fault of teachers. However, it is important that teachers understand these problems so that they can provide these students the help they need. Struggling with language. "Language shock" is perhaps the most common phenomenon that language learners experience when adjusting to their new environment. This term refers to the anxiety an immigrant experiences when first entering a community in which he or she does not speak, or is not proficient in, the dominant language. It is a common occurrence in schools, where, despite their desire to speak English fluently, students must struggle for several years before they understand everything that is said in their classrooms, in the hallways, and in the cafeteria. The feeling of anxiety is exacerbated by the ignorance of others. Laurie Olsen recounts stories of students being mocked by their peers because of the way that they speak English.7 While observing an ESL class, Olsen heard a student visitor comment that it sounded like he was no longer in America when he entered that classroom. (In this particular case, the teacher was allowing the students to communicate in their native languages.) Following that remark, all the students fell silent. Such occurrences only aggravate the anxiety of immigrant children. Other examples of similar experiences have been documented. For example, Xiaoxia Li reports that, when she went to pick up her daughter Amy from school, she began to ask her some questions about her day, but in Chinese. Amy became upset with her mother and later explained that her classmates would laugh at her in those situations. Moreover, whenever the teacher in Amy's school inquired as to who had made a particular mistake, one of her classmates would point to her and say, "The Chinese girl," when it was usually not so. …

At Odds: Strategic Planning--How Are Professional Learning Communities Created? History Has a Few Messages.

Abstract: Mr. Joyce has long been involved in efforts to develop collaborative professional inquiry. He looks back at some of those efforts in the hope that we can draw lessons from them and finally realize the vision that Mike Schmoker set forth in his February article. In the article featured on the cover of the February Kappan, Mike Schmoker develops two important arguments about school renewal.1 The first is a powerful call to discard the approaches variously known as strategic planning, systemic reform, comprehensive school reform, and whole-school reform, which have failed miserably and in plain sight. The second, which has the style of a call to arms, is that we know the best way to generate school improvement and should simply get on with it. He borrows the words of Judith Warren Little: "School improvement is most surely and thoroughly achieved when teachers engage in frequent, continuous, and increasingly concrete and precise talk about teaching practice."2 Schmoker argues that we have a "consensus of expert opinion" on the question, and he names 28 highly visible specialists in school improvement who agree, essentially, that schools should become centers of inquiry for adults as well as children. He urges them to spread the word, to create the "tipping point," when educators embrace "the most productive shift in the history of educational practice."3 Here, I'd like to reflect on Schmoker's call to arms from the perspective of research and experience with similar ideas over the last 40 years. Why? Because I'd like to see the dream of professional communities of inquiry work out well this time around. And for that to happen, we need to pay attention both to the idea of schools in which adults study their practice and to the ways of creating that condition. I like the vision Schmoker offers -- so much, in fact, that I've been involved in efforts to disseminate similar visions since the early 1960s. I was heavily involved in the "team-teaching" movement and the post-Sputnik academic reform movement. Both relied on collaborative study by teachers. I directed the school at Teachers College, where teams not only studied teaching but produced research for dissemination. In the teacher education program connected to our school and nearby New York schools, teacher candidates studied both teaching and collaborative school improvement. We were part of the national "competency-based" campaign that emphasized collective inquiry into teaching beginning at the preservice level. We introduced teacher candidates to professional learning communities while they were in training and gave them tools for studying teaching -- tools known as "interaction analysis systems." At one point, at least a hundred teacher education programs and many large school districts used such tools. For example, the schools in Montgomery County, Maryland, built a cadre of teachers who spread the precise study of teaching through a district that then served a quarter of a million students. Those innovations have largely disappeared, but I have not reformed, though my tools have changed. As this is written, I am working with inquiring teams whose members are studying the effects of the curricula they are implementing, as in the kindergartens of the Northern Lights School Division in Alberta, British Columbia. We discussed these efforts in these pages in October 2003.4 I know from personal experience that commitment to an idea is different from knowing how to take effective action to make it happen. I have frequently helped people with fine ambitions spin their wheels because we didn't know enough about generating implementation. Today, I have more or less continual anxiety that my present shortcomings will generate a new set of mistakes by my clients. And I'm in good company. The broad literature on school renewal describes many failed attempts to build learning communities, attempts mounted by sophisticated people, armed with considerable energy and carefully constructed strategies. …

The 50Th Anniversary - An Unfinished Journey: The Legacy of Brown and the Narrowing of the Achievement Gap.

Abstract: Why, Mr. Ferguson and Mr. Mehta wonder, does the achievement gap persist 50 years after Brown declared that black children must receive a truly equal education? THE GOOD NEWS is that the achievement gaps between racial and ethnic groups in the U.S. are smaller than they were several decades ago. The bad news is that progress stopped around 1990.1 The National Assessment of Educational Progress (NAEP) continues to show large differences between the average scores of blacks and Hispanics on the one hand and those of whites and Asians on the other.2 Now, half a century after Brown v. Board of Education, while progress is evident and many milestones have been achieved - especially in the area of civil rights - policy measures focused on rights, resources, and required testing for students have not achieved their full promise for raising achievement and narrowing gaps between groups of students. And it is the failure to go behind the classroom door and foster high-quality instructional practices for all students, in all classrooms, in all schools that is strongly implicated in these disappointing results. What we need today is a more determined, high-quality, research-based emphasis on improving what happens in classrooms. But before we look at just what sorts of practices we need to adopt, some historical background is in order. Historical Overview One hundred and seven years ago, the U.S. Supreme Court upheld the doctrine of "separate but equal" in Plessy v. Ferguson. The conflict was over passenger accommodations on the East Louisiana Railroad. Nonetheless, the doctrine of "separate but equal" was codified in state laws governing schools and virtually all other types of public accommodations in the South, where the majority of African Americans lived. Representing an eight-person majority, Justice Henry Brown wrote the following: "The object of the [14th] Amendment was undoubtedly to enforce the absolute equality of the two races before the law, but in the nature of things it could not have been intended to abolish distinctions based upon color, or to enforce social, as distinguished from political equality, or a commingling of the two races upon terms unsatisfactory to either." Half a century later, the doctrine of separate but equal still dominated the South, but the question being litigated was whether enforced segregation in public schools deprived black children of equal protection under the U.S. Constitution. On 17 May 1954, Chief Justice Earl Warren issued the Court's decision in the cases subsumed into Brown. The Court's opinion granted that it might be possible with segregation to achieve equality of "tangible factors" - things that money can buy - but the Court rejected the idea that separate could be equal or that laws maintaining segregation could provide equal protection under the Constitution. Informed by the work of social scientists, including the black psychologist Kenneth Clark, the justices wrote the following about the harm that segregation was doing to black children: "To separate them from others of similar age and qualifications solely because of their race generates a feeling of inferiority as to their status in the community that may affect their hearts and minds in a way unlikely ever to be undone." Thus Brown was not merely about equality of resources; it was also about children's "hearts and minds" and "status in the community." The decision struck down the doctrine of separate but equal. It was a landmark event.3 In challenging the separate-but-equal doctrine of the Jim Crow South, the plaintiffs in Brown aimed to challenge white supremacist ideology and the moral injustice of forced segregation. In addition, they hoped that giving black children access to the schools and classrooms where white children studied would help to equalize educational resources and academic outcomes. Unfortunately, implementation of the court order was exceedingly slow and limited. …

A Balanced School Accountability Model: An Alternative to High-Stakes Testing:

Abstract: The health of our public schools, Mr. Jones argues, depends on defining a new model of accountability -- one that is balanced and comprehensive. And it needs be one that involves much more than test scores. FOR SOME time now, it has been apparent to many in the education community that state and federal policies intended to develop greater school accountability for the learning of all students have been terribly counterproductive. The use of high-stakes testing of students has been fraught with flawed assumptions, oversimplified understandings of school realities, undemocratic concentration of power, undermining of the teaching profession, and predictably disastrous consequences for our most vulnerable students. Far from the noble ideal of leaving no child behind, current policies, if continued, are bound to increase existing inequities, trivialize schooling, and mislead the public about the quality and promise of public education. What is needed is a better means for evaluating schools, an alternative to the present system of using high-stakes testing for school accountability. A new model, based on a different set of assumptions and understandings about school realities and approaches to power, is required. It must be focused on the needs of learners and on the goals of having high expectations for all rather than on the prerequisites of a bureaucratic measurement system. Premises In the realm of student learning, the question of outcomes has often been considered primary: what do we want students to know and be able to do as a result of schooling? Once the desired outcomes have been specified, school reform efforts have proceeded to address the thorny questions of how to attain them. Starting from desired outcomes is an important shift in how to think about what does or does not make sense in classroom instruction. In the realm of school accountability, however, little attention has been paid to corresponding outcome-related questions. It has simply been assumed that schools should be accountable for improved student learning, as measured by external test scores. It has been largely assumed by policy makers that external tests do, in fact, adequately measure student learning. These and other assumptions about school accountability must be questioned if we are to develop a more successful accountability model. It would be well to start from basic questions about the purposes and audiences of schools. For what, to whom, and by what means should schools be held accountable? The following answers to these questions provide a set of premises on which a new school accountability system can be based. For what should schools be accountable? Schools should be held accountable for at least the following: * The physical and emotional well-being of students. The caring aspect of school is essential to high-quality education. Parents expect that their children will be safe in schools and that adults in schools will tend to their affective as well as cognitive needs. In addition, we know that learning depends on a caring school climate that nurtures positive relationships. * Student learning. Student learning is complex and multifaceted. It includes acquiring not only knowledge of disciplinary subject matter but also the thinking skills and dispositions needed in a modern democratic society. * Teacher learning. Having a knowledgeable and skilled teacher is the most significant factor in student learning and should be fostered in multiple ways, compatible with the principles of adult learning. Schools must have sufficient time and funding to enable teachers to improve their own performance, according to professional teaching standards. * Equity and access. Given the history of inequity with respect to minority and underserved student populations, schools must be accountable for placing a special emphasis on improving equity and access, providing fair opportunities for all to learn to high standards. …

The Looming Danger of a Two-Tiered Professional Development System.

Abstract: If professional development relies on scripts and mandates rather than on learning communities and continuous improvement, it can actually hinder teachers' growth. Mr. Sparks fears that the teachers most likely to receive such inferior training are the ones who work with the student population most in need of high-quality teaching. ADMINISTRATORS who are responsible for professional development in schools would do well to heed the advice of VISA founder Dee Hock: "Have a simple, clear purpose which gives rise to complex, intelligent behavior, rather than complex rules and regulations that give rise to simplistic thinking and stupid behavior." Hock's admonition clarifies my concern that this nation is rapidly creating a two-tiered professional development system that ill serves a significant number of teachers and their students. The first tier is an emerging system that advocates the development of professional community and the exercise of professional judgment -- what Hock would label "complex, intelligent behavior." Teachers in schools that have embraced this system of professional development are generally committed to collective school and team goals, use data and other forms of evidence to make decisions, engage in extended study and discussions of educational issues and instructional practices, and enjoy the benefits of supportive, collegial interactions. As a result, these teachers experience growth in professional judgment and skills, see improvements in student learning, and feel the increased confidence and motivation that these improvements produce. Professional learning of this type engages the intellect, involves all teachers in cycles of action and reflection, and builds relationships, all of which lead to continuous improvements in teaching and learning for all students in all schools. To achieve these ends, teachers work in ongoing teams, examine student work, analyze various types of evidence regarding student learning, set goals for improvement, plan lessons together, and reflect on the effectiveness of those lessons. Conversely, the second tier of professional development is built on mandates, scripted teaching, and careful monitoring for compliance -- the types of professional learning that can easily lead to what Hock would call "simplistic thinking and stupid behavior." In the schools employing tier-two professional development, teachers generally are told what to do and when to do it, particularly in high-stakes subject areas such as reading and mathematics. If the benefits of professional community occur at all under this approach, they are, at best, by- products for a minority of teachers rather than an intended outcome for all. I have several concerns about this second tier of professional development. Far too many tier-two efforts begin and end with top-down, highly prescriptive approaches, leaving the culture of schools untouched and teachers and students ill prepared to function much beyond the most rudimentary levels of performance. I am also concerned that demeaning and mind-numbing staff development will create a persistent aversion to professional learning and leave teachers feeling resigned to their fate and dependent on experts as the primary source for their development. And most important, because such forms of professional development are typically directed at those who teach our most vulnerable students, I believe that this approach will have long-term, deleterious consequences for poor and minority students. Professional Development Apartheid My views have been reinforced by several timely books and articles. In Teaching in the Knowledge Society, Boston College professor Andy Hargreaves uses the term "performance training sects" to describe tier- two professional development and the term "professional development apartheid" to emphasize the profound consequences -- for teachers and students -- of the disparity between tier-one and tier-two approaches. …

Accountability with a Kicker: Observations on the Florida A+ Accountability Plan.

Abstract: The A+ Accountability Plan in Florida predated NCLB but has similar provisions. Thus, the authors realized, a study of how the system has played out in Florida might allow us to see where NCLB is leading us. IN 1999, FLORIDA implemented a major reform of its accountability system, called the A+ Accountability Plan. A unique aspect of the A+ Plan is its explicit attempt to invoke market forces by allowing students in low-performing schools that meet specified criteria to receive vouchers that can be redeemed at an eligible public or private school. It is this "opportunity scholarship" (the portion of the A+ Plan that allows for vouchers) that set the accountability system in Florida apart from that of any other state at that time. Since then, the Supreme Court's Zelman decision ruled that using vouchers for religious private schools is permissible.1 In addition, the No Child Left Behind (NCLB) Act requires that all schools failing to achieve adequate yearly progress (AYP) implement a program similar to the opportunity scholarships in that it would allow students to choose alternative public schools. In many ways, the accountability program begun by Florida in 1999 was a precursor to the type of accountability systems that NCLB is now requiring states to implement. Thus studying Florida's school and district responses to the provisions of the A+ Plan may yield important insights into what we should expect to see elsewhere. Much of the controversy and debate over the passage of NCLB focused on its accountability and voucher provisions. Many of those in favor of such reforms argued that public schooling was (and is) a closed system, unlikely to change in any fundamental way without the "kicker" increased competition would provide. The basic argument was that competition would provide schools with a clear incentive either to perform well or to risk losing students to higher-quality alternatives offered at the same price.2 In short, the theory that competition can improve education presumes that inefficiencies resulting from the monopoly of the public school system are the cause of low performance in American education.3 For a variety of reasons, however, it is not at all clear that schools will respond to increased market competition in the same way that the classic competitive model predicts for industry. Most important, they may have trouble discerning what changes would be beneficial to students or implementing effective reforms. The research we report here is part of a larger effort focusing on how schools in Florida are responding to a new accountability system with many of the same provisions as NCLB. We will briefly describe publicly reported information on school performance in Florida since the inception of the A+ Plan, and then, using evidence gathered from our case studies, we will attempt to provide a more nuanced picture of the program's effect on schools -- particularly the relationship between school accountability grades and the threat of vouchers. The A+ Plan and School Performance At the time it was implemented, the Florida voucher program was unique in that it was established by law as an integral part of the state's education accountability system. With the A+ Plan, students in schools that receive a grade of F in two out of any four years and currently have an F grade are eligible to receive vouchers that can be used at another, nonfailing public school or at a private school, including a religious school. Schools' grades are based on their students' performance on the FCATs (Florida Comprehensive Achievement Tests) -- the state tests in math, reading, and writing -- and on dropout rates. The value of the vouchers awarded for students to attend private schools in 2002-03 ranged from $3,463 to $4,311 for basic K-12 education.4 In short, the program is broad based, institutionalized, and reasonably well funded. (For further details on the Florida A+ Plan, see www. …

School/University Partnerships: Rhetoric, Reality, and Intimacy

Abstract: The rhetoric of school/university partnerships is no doubt familiar to everyone. But the reality is another matter. And how to handle the intimate relationships between the people involved presents the hardest question to answer. The authors share their experiences, especially with this final question. THE GOAL OF school/university partnerships is the simultaneous renewal of colleges of education and of K-12 schools.1 In theory, this improvement comes about as university and K-12 faculty members work together to mentor preservice teachers in the best possible environment. Ideally, as they participate in these collaborations, the faculty groups do a better job together than either could accomplish alone, and both become better educators. However, achieving this goal is difficult. It is difficult because, until the collaboration has begun and problems arise, partners cannot know what particular challenges each partnership will face. We cannot know ahead of time how best to address those challenges, nor can we know what kinds of solutions will be practically and politically possible. This does not mean that partnerships are doomed. If all partners assume responsibility for the success of the partnership, the collaborations can succeed and teacher education can improve. As part of assuming responsibility, each partner needs to try to understand as fully as possible, in the beginning and along the way, that behind the rhetoric of school/university partnerships, there is reality and that behind the reality, there is intimacy. Each of us needs to be willing, every step of the way, to ask and address hard questions, which we might prefer to avoid. These questions are not only about the intimacies of our particular partnerships but also about policies, practices, and relationships within our home (K-12 or university) institutions. These are challenging responsibilities. Neither university nor K-12 faculties know much about collaborative professional relationships. Both K-12 teachers and teacher educators are more used to working independently than to collaborating with their colleagues. In making a decision to form a partnership, K-12 and university educators are making a commitment to learn together how to do something on shared turf that neither group necessarily knows how to do on its home turf. We commit to an intimate relationship with one another but bring little prior experience with professional intimacy. As a faculty member at the University of Hawaii, Diane Stephens spent seven years working with two different university/public school partnerships. Diane and her colleague Joe Tobin first worked with an elementary school to pilot a field-based program that prepared students to be elementary school teachers. Three years later, Diane and Joe piloted a program with a K-12 Hawaiian immersion school, helping prepare students to become teachers in elementary and secondary Hawaiian immersion classrooms. As a graduate student, Gail Boldt coordinated the field-based program for the University of Hawaii's Kauai Teacher Education program and then worked as an instructor and field supervisor for elementary cohorts on Oahu. As we've looked across our particular experiences with these partnerships, we've identified four questions we believe partners need to be willing to address if the partnership is going to survive, let alone thrive. These are questions that need to be raised as close to the beginning of the partnership as possible and then raised again and again throughout the life of the partnership. These questions are not discrete but overlapping, and they can each be approached from successively deeper layers of complexity. The first layer is that of rhetoric, and at that layer, the questions seem easy. At the second layer, reality, the questions seem impolite. At the third layer, intimacy, the questions are hard and often painful. We have come to believe that it is only by asking and collaboratively addressing the hard questions that partnerships can survive and education can improve. …

The Mathematics Assessment Collaborative: Performance Testing to Improve Instruction.

Abstract: American schools are awash in standardized testing. Students are spending more and more time on state-mandated, high-stakes tests linked to state standards. There are variations among the states in terms of how often they test students, what subjects they test, whether their exams are normor criterion-referenced, and whether multiple-choice questions are supplemented by other question types. But the passage of federal No Child Left Behind (NCLB) legislation makes it clear that, in the next few years, high-stakes standardized testing will only increase nationwide.

Early Learning Standards: Changing the Parlance and Practice of Early Childhood Education?

Abstract: ERHAPS more than any other formulation, the question “What should students know and be able to do?” has shaped both the parlance and practice of education over the past decade. Ushering in an era of standards and accountability, this widely intoned question has precipitated the most massive reform American education has experienced, with no part of the education system, including early childhood education, exempt. Our purpose here is to examine how this focus has affected young children — to address specifically the prevalence of standards, their nature, and their use as they relate to children who are just entering our schools. To be fair, the issue of learning standards for young children did not come out of nowhere. Those who concentrate their efforts on young children have grappled with the correlates of “ready children” (and ready schools and communities). Decades of work by the National Education Goals Panel (NEGP) yielded detailed Early Learning Standards: Changing the Parlance and Practice of Early Childhood Education?

The Case against the Zero

Abstract: Even those who subscribe to the "punishment" theory of grading might want to reconsider the way they use zeros, Mr. Reeves suggests. THIS IS not a trick question. If you are using a grading scale in which the numbers 4, 3, 2, 1, and 0 correspond to grades of A, B, C, D, and F, then what number is awarded to a student who fails to turn in an assignment? If you responded with a unanimous chorus of "zero," then you may have a great deal of company. There might be a few people who are familiar with the research that asserts that grading as punishment is an ineffective strategy,1 but many of us curmudgeons want to give the miscreants who failed to complete our assignments the punishment that they richly deserve. No work, no credit -- end of story. Groups as diverse as the New York State United Teachers and the Thomas Fordham Foundation rally around this position.2 Let us, for the sake of argument, accept the point. With the grading system described above, the failure to turn in work would receive a zero. The four-point scale is a rational system, as the increment between each letter grade is proportionate to the increment between each numerical grade -- one point. But the common use of the zero today is based not on a four-point scale but on a 100-point scale. This defies logic and mathematical accuracy. On a 100-point scale, the interval between numerical and letter grades is typically 10 points, with the break points at 90, 80, 70, and so on. But when the grade of zero is applied to a 100-point scale, the interval between the D and F is not 10 points but 60 points. Most state standards in mathematics require that fifth-grade students understand the principles of ratios -- for example, A is to B as 4 is to 3; D is to F as 1 is to zero. Yet the persistence of the zero on a 100-point scale indicates that many people with advanced degrees, including those with more background in mathematics than the typical teacher, have not applied the ratio standard to their own professional practices. To insist on the use of a zero on a 100-point scale is to assert that work that is not turned in deserves a penalty that is many times more severe than that assessed for work that is done wretchedly and is worth a D. Readers were asked earlier how many points would be awarded to a student who failed to turn in work on a grading scale of 4, 3, 2, 1, 0, but I'll bet not a single person arrived at the answer "minus 6." Yet that is precisely the logic that is employed when the zero is awarded on a 100- point scale. There are two issues at hand. The first, and most important, is to determine the appropriate consequence for students who fail to complete an assignment. The most common answer is to punish these students. Evidence to the contrary notwithstanding, there is an almost fanatical belief that punishment through grades will motivate students. In contrast, there are at least a few educators experimenting with the notion that the appropriate consequence for failing to complete an assignment is to require the student to complete the assignment. That is, students lose privileges -- free time and unstructured class or study-hall time -- and are required to complete the assignment. The price of freedom is proficiency, and students are motivated not by threats of failure but by the opportunity to earn greater freedom and discretion by completing work accurately and on time. I know my colleagues well enough to understand that this argument will not persuade many of them. Rewards and punishments are part of the psyche of schools, particularly at the secondary level. But if I concede this first point, the second issue is much more straightforward. …

The 14th Bracey Report on the Condition of Public Education

Abstract: Another eventful year in education has passed. Mr. Bracey chronicles its triumphs and travesties. The Bush Administration's No Child Left Behind education act has become wildly unpopular around the country. - Editorial, New York Times, 16 March 2004 We're not backing down! - George W. Bush, Van Buren, Arkansas, 11 May 2004 THUS DID THE New York Times and the President frame their positions on the year's only real story in education. President Bush's comment could well turn out to be the educational equivalent of "Bring 'em on" and "Mission Accomplished." Certainly the success of the No Child Left Behind (NCLB) Act is no slam dunk. Because NCLB so overwhelms the rest of the stories -- Google said it had "about" 1.2 million items on NCLB - - I'll save it for last. Vouchers People predicted that the Zelman decision would open the sluices for a flood of state voucher programs. But vouchers continued to be a nonevent. Only Colorado passed a voucher law, and Denver District Court Judge Joseph E. Meyer III promptly declared it unconstitutional. Judge Meyer based his decision on the state constitution, which gives local school boards, not the state, control over schools.1 Proponents appealed. On June 28, the Colorado Supreme Court agreed with Judge Meyer by a 4-3 margin -- and for the same reason. The dissenting justices agreed that the local districts would lose some money because the program involved local funds, but they argued that local boards would retain control over instruction.2 Gov. Bill Owens and pro-voucher legislators promised to come back with bills that would use state funds and so avoid the issue of local control. Some opponents said that avoiding local control would not solve the problem for voucher proponents because Colorado's constitution strictly forbids the use of public funds for private institutions. Denver Post columnist Diane Carman opined that the vouchers are just a ruse anyway to keep from dealing with important issues. As long as people debate vouchers, they can avoid confronting Colorado's lack of early childhood education, its increasing class sizes and below-average teacher pay, or Denver's dropout rate.3 Carman quoted Bush tax advisor Grover Norquist as saying, "We [starve- the-beast advocates] win just by debating school choice, because the alternative is to discuss the need to spend more money." The colorful Norquist is best known for saying that bipartisanship is another name for date rape and that he didn't want to do away with government, just shrink it to the size where he could drag it into the bathroom and drown it in the tub. Perhaps state voucher activity faltered because state legislators had read the various evaluations from New York, Dayton, Cleveland, Washington, and Milwaukee (all reviewed in chapter 6 of my book Setting the Record Straight, 2nd ed., Heinemann, 2004). Revising Jay Greene's Wall Street Journal conclusion,4 none of the voucher evaluations found students harmed by not receiving a voucher. President Bush's preliminary plan for NCLB called for vouchers for students in any school that failed for three consecutive years. When Congress axed that provision, he attempted to insert vouchers into the bill through a half-dozen amendments offered by Rep. John Boehner (R- Ohio). Mindful that in 2000 the public in California and Michigan had sent voucher referenda down in flames (70% to 30% in both states), Congress said "No." President Bush, never one to take no for an answer, brought forth a voucher program for a half-dozen cities. Congress trimmed the proposal to a single urban area, the District of Columbia -- and then defeated it. And defeated it. And defeated it. And defeated it. Four times in all. Even convincing Dianne Feinstein (D-Calif.) to vote for the bill couldn't get it through the Senate. Feinstein, also mindful of the voucher debacle in her state, said she was not advocating vouchers for California. …

The Why, How, and What of Mentoring

Abstract: Based on his own experience mentoring a new teacher, Mr. Trubowitz offers valuable tips for those considering entering into this challenging and mutually enriching relationship. THE PRACTICE of mentoring new teachers is spreading widely. School systems are finding that beginning teachers who have access to intensive mentoring are less likely to leave teaching. With the growing acceptance of the need to mentor novice teachers comes the danger that schools will attempt to implement mentor programs without paying adequate attention to the factors that create mentor/mentee relationships that provide growth and satisfaction for both participants. Simply bringing two adults together is no guarantee of success. If the mentor/mentee relationship is to be productive, the following questions will need to be addressed. How Do People Become Mentors? The way in which someone becomes a mentor influences how that person will work with a mentee. If administrators pressure an experienced teacher into working with a novice, the likelihood that resentment will taint the relationship is high. If individuals become mentors because they see honor and prestige coming from the role, the interests of the new teacher may not be well served. If a mentor is selected to "fix" a problem teacher or to help implement district office directives, the road to professional development may be a rocky one. Applying rigid criteria to mentor selection may result in a limited approach to new teacher development. For example, it is often recommended that districts require mentors to be either currently teaching or only recently retired. The assumption is that only someone familiar with the system in which the novice is teaching can be of help. Mentors may find it valuable to have direct experience in the mentee's environment or one that is similar. However, there may be a downside for the novice teacher's professional development if a mentor who has experience in only one or two schools adheres to the status quo, focusing on survival skills and eschewing innovation. This approach to mentoring will merely reproduce existing practices rather than move toward positive change. People with broad backgrounds, who are unaware of existing bureaucratic strictures, may make suggestions free from traditional thinking. I was rejected as a mentor for new principals because I had not been a school administrator in recent years, even though I had been both a principal and a professor of educational administration. Despite the fact that for over 20 years I had been the director of the Queens College collaboration with the Louis Armstrong Middle School in Queens, New York, and that part of my role was to serve as a counselor to the school's principal, the district chose to go with recent experience. However, I was allowed to mentor a new teacher, even though I had been retired longer than the three-year limit imposed on mentors, because district personnel familiar with work I had done for them on other occasions chose to make an exception. The task of mentor selection goes beyond simply taking inventory of such desirable mentor characteristics as being professional, positive, collegial, responsive, supportive, empathic, and nonjudgmental. Unless these qualities are applied to the relationship in a sensitive and imaginative manner, they mean nothing. Districts need to identify people of maturity, insight, experience, and interest to guide newcomers on their path to professionalism. And mentors need programs to prepare them, so that they don't get caught up in jargon, don't use mentoring to gratify personal needs, and don't view mentoring as a simplistic, mechanical process. What Are the First Steps? When working with a new teacher, the mentor's first task is to "read" the mentee. For many new teachers, the immediate goal will be survival. In these cases, the mentor needs to provide specific suggestions, to focus on minimal norms of expected behavior, and to discuss how to handle the first day and the first week. …

At Odds: Strategic Planning--Learning Communities at the Crossroads--Toward the Best Schools We've Ever Had.

Abstract: In his response to William Cook and Bruce Joyce, Mr. Schmoker acknowledges common ground but sticks to his position that the best way to improve instruction is to develop true learning communities in which teachers together examine and adjust their practices. IN HIS generous response to my February 2004 Kappan article, William Cook agrees that "strategic planning," as the concept has actually been implemented, has undeniably hurt schools and that, in fact, "the situation may be even worse" than I described. While we agree on this point, I'm not as sure, as Cook avers, that the harm has resulted solely from poor implementation or bastardization of the concept; Henry Mintzberg, Tom Peters, and others convince me that the notion itself is the problem. Cook argues that what I am criticizing is not real "strategic planning" but then admits that authentic strategic planning is emphatically future-oriented; this is the very element that makes it vulnerable to all kinds of mischief, that prevents a more timely concern with specific, short-term efforts that respond thoughtfully to emergent opportunities and problems. I would add that I did have some difficulty following Cook's argument. This might be because it lacked concrete cases that could help us to see the critical distinctions between good and bad strategic planning. If, as he writes, there has been a failure to "remain true to the original concept," perhaps that is because the original concept wasn't clearly defined. As Wittgenstein helped us to see, "the meaning of a word is its use." The term "strategic planning" as it is actually used and implemented has delayed and prevented improvement in an enormous number of schools and organizations. As such misuse shows no sign of abatement, Cook and I again agree that it is time for a serious critique of "planning" in its most popular forms. Bruce Joyce's concerns are particularly timely and important. He agrees that elaborate planning and reforms "have failed miserably and in plain sight." And, like many of us, he would "like to see the dream of professional communities of inquiry work out well this time around." He is less sure, however, that learning communities represent something truly superior to other innovations or that we know enough about them to execute them successfully. He cites as cautionary tales the disappointing results of several prominent innovations. Therefore, he isn't as ready as I am to abandon a focus on the right kinds of "workshops" or "staff development" as the primary engine for improvement. Our disagreements, I believe, are relative rather than absolute. I share most of Joyce's fears and misgivings about the future of communities of inquiry. I often wonder if schools will ever truly embrace an ethos of improvement. But I'm optimistic. As Joyce points out, "commitment follows competence." True learning communities, as so many schools and studies now attest, have a better chance of promoting "competence" than anything we've seen. If enough schools adopt and succeed with them, I believe we'll reach our "tipping point." I've seen enough successful learning communities to know that they virtually guarantee success and a sense of competence: the moment teachers begin to closely examine their lessons and the results of those lessons, instruction improves and competence increases. But clarity precedes competence. The real meaning of collaborative communities must be clearer to those involved than were the underlying principles of the failed innovations Joyce describes -- or, like them, this reform won't survive its "collision with both the norms and structure of the workplace." The Importance of Clarity Rick DuFour was immensely successful, as a principal and superintendent, in implementing learning communities in his high school district in Lincolnshire, Illinois. He recently observed that learning communities are at a critical juncture. …

Is High School Career and Technical Education Obsolete

Abstract: In the face of growing sentiment against career and technical education, Mr. Gray asks us to take a hard look at the advisability of limiting high school students' options. AS IF ORDAINED by some law of applied public policy, the viability of high school vocational education -- now called Career and Technical Education (CTE) -- is once again being questioned. The current federal Administration appears to hold the CTE curriculum in low regard. Its recommendation regarding the reauthorization of the Perkins CTE funding legislation is basically to scrap it. The Administration proposes instead to redirect federal funding for high school CTE, tech prep, and even postsecondary technical education toward high school academic education. Perhaps the real issue is money -- or the lack of it -- for other reform efforts, and not the value of CTE. As Perkins funding is the only pot of federal cash that goes mainly to secondary education, some suggest that the real motivation for eliminating CTE is to free up that money to fund the secondary school portion of the underfunded No Child Left Behind (NCLB) Act. Regardless of the Administration's true motive, almost 100 years of federal assistance for high school CTE could end abruptly. According to the U.S. Department of Education (ED) appointees, all teens want to go to college; therefore, high school should be only about teaching English, math, and science. Proponents of this view argue that the traditional academic curriculum is the best approach; after all, it worked for them, and it will work for all students once we get highly qualified teachers into every classroom and certify the deficient via standardized testing. The implication is that CTE is incompatible with NCLB and, therefore, obsolete. One ED appointee, now retired, went so far as to characterize CTE programs as preparing students for careers as shoe repairers.1 Yet there is cause to question such conclusions. Unlike English, math, and science, CTE is an elective within the high school curriculum. No student has to take it. Yet, according to ED's transcript analysis, virtually every high school graduate takes at least one course in CTE, and about 25% of students are concentrators, taking three or more credits in a "single labor market" (SLM) area.2 Whereas no student has to take CTE, one can assume that those who do, their parents, and the local school boards that finance the lion's share of CTE find it of value. Can they all be making a mistake? Would students elect CTE and their parents agree to it if it offered nothing more than shoemaking? The present levels of student participation in and local financial support of CTE alone suggest that perhaps it is not as obsolete as claimed. Perhaps it is time to reconsider why we have CTE in our high schools in the first place and whether these reasons are less valid today than in the past. Then again, if the goal is really to leave no child behind, curriculum choices are necessary at the high school level. No single program of study will work with all students. CTE is to some students what Advanced Placement and honors courses are to others. As I will argue subsequently, if one includes students who are at risk of dropping out of high school, students who enter the work force directly after high school, and students who aspire to attend college at the pre- baccalaureate technical education level, then CTE is an important complement to the standard academic curriculum for more than half of all high school students -- an alternative these students find more relevant and thus more educationally effective than a purely academic program of study would be. A Curriculum Debate It is fascinating to observe the degree to which the current debate about CTE in high schools is a historical rerun. The main question is whether or not students are best served by a common academic curriculum or by a differentiated curriculum that offers alternatives. …

Enabling or Disabling? Observations on Changes in Special Education

Abstract: Conceptions of how best to educate students with disabilities have shifted toward one of two extremes: denying that disabilities exist or accommodating them to the extent that there is no expectation of student progress toward realistic goals. The authors contend that both attitudes defeat the primary educational aim of helping all students achieve their highest potential. SCHOOLS need demanding and distinctive special education that is clearly focused on instruction and habilitation.1 Abandoning such a conception of special education is a prescription for disaster. But special education has increasingly been losing its way in the single- minded pursuit of full inclusion. Once, special education's purpose was to bring the performance of students with disabilities closer to that of their nondisabled peers in regular classrooms, to move as many students as possible into the mainstream with appropriate support.2 For students not in regular education, the goal was to move them toward a more typical setting in a cascade of placement options.3 But as any good thing can be overdone and ruined by the pursuit of extremes, we see special education suffering from the extremes of inclusion and accommodation. Aiming for as much normalization as possible gave special education a clear purpose. Some disabilities were seen as easier to remediate than others. Most speech and language disorders, for example, were considered eminently remediable. Other disabilities, such as mental retardation and many physical disabilities, were assumed to be permanent or long-term and so less remediable, but movement toward the mainstream and increasing independence from special educators were clear goals. The emphasis in special education has shifted away from normalization, independence, and competence. The result has been students' dependence on whatever special programs, modifications, and accommodations are possible, particularly in general education settings. The goal seems to have become the appearance of normalization without the expectation of competence. Many parents and students seem to want more services as they learn what is available. Some have lost sight of the goal of limiting accommodations in order to challenge students to achieve more independence. At the same time, many special education advocates want all services to be available in mainstream settings, with little or no acknowledgment that the services are atypical. Although teachers, administrators, and guidance counselors are often willing and able to make accommodations, doing so is not always in students' best long-term interests. It gives students with disabilities what anthropologist Robert Edgerton called a cloak -- a pretense, a cover, which actually fools no one -- rather than actual competence.4 In this article, we discuss how changes in attitudes toward disability and special education, placement, and accommodations can perpetuate disability. We also explore the problems of ignoring or perpetuating disability rather than helping students lead fuller, more independent lives. Two examples illustrate how we believe good intentions can go awry -- how attempts to accommodate students with disabilities can undermine achievement. "But he needs resource. . . ." Thomas, a high school sophomore identified as emotionally disturbed, was assigned to a resource class created to help students who had problems with organization or needed extra help with academic skills. One of the requirements in the class was for students to keep a daily planner in which they entered all assignments; they shared their planner with the resource teacher at the beginning of class and discussed what academic subjects would be worked on during that period. Thomas consistently refused to keep a planner or do any work in resource (he slept instead). So a meeting was set up with the assistant principal, the guidance counselor, Thomas, and the resource teacher. …

When do children fall behind? What can be done?

Abstract: One of the main goals of recent education reform efforts, including NCLB, is to close the achievement gap between disadvantaged and minority students and their wealthier, white peers. The authors present data showing that closing those gaps once they have emerged is no easy task. THE PHRASE "No Child Left Behind" (NCLB) likens education to a journey. Just as a traveler can fall behind his or her companions in terms of distance covered, so can a student fall behind his or her peers in terms of academic progress. Might the educational "journey" incorporate alternative routes that would allow children to make up the distance they have lost so that they would arrive at the destination with their peers? Since many of the children at greatest risk of falling behind are poor and minority students, answering this question would facilitate closing achievement gaps -- or even prevent such gaps from emerging in the first place. The expression "from womb to tomb" captures the common belief that education is a lifelong journey, rather than one that starts with kindergarten or first grade. But where along the journey do children begin falling behind? Broadly speaking, there are two views on this issue. The first view is represented by the following quotation from Ruth Johnson, author of Using Data to Close the Achievement Gap: I went into teaching with the belief that all students could learn high-level material. I soon saw that child after child came into kindergarten ready to learn and doing well, but as they moved through the upper grades their learning curve diminished. By first, second, or third grade, many students were already behind.1 Whatever differences there may have been in the children's home backgrounds, those differences did not prevent them from entering school well prepared. If, as Johnson suggests, children don't begin falling behind until after they enter school, it seems only natural to suspect that schools are a major source of the problem. However, not everyone shares Johnson's opinion that educational disparities emerge only after K-12 schooling begins. Among those who believe the gaps begin before kindergarten are the authors of the No Child Left Behind website: Children who enter school with language skills and pre-reading skills (e.g., understanding that print reads from left to right and top to bottom) are more likely to learn to read well in the early grades and succeed in later years. In fact, research shows that most reading problems faced by adolescents and adults are the result of problems that could have been prevented by good instruction in the early childhood years.2 Children from homes in which the primary language is not English may arrive at school with a knowledge of that language's structure but without a knowledge of oral English. Since ours is for the most part a phonetic alphabet in which the letters represent sounds of English words, a child who does not understand spoken English will usually not understand the alphabetic representation of spoken English words. Therefore, a child with limited spoken English has limited readiness for reading in the language used by most schools. A similar lack of readiness can exist among English-speaking low-income children. Betty Hart and Todd Risley observed 42 families for an hour a month for 21A2 years to learn what typically happened in homes with 1- and 2-year-old children learning to talk.3 Their longitudinal data showed that ordinary families differed immensely in the amount and quality of parents' language interactions with their children. In an average hour, professional parents spoke to their children using more words, more multi-clause sentences, and more past and future verb tenses, and they asked more questions. By contrast, in the lower-income families, the utterances addressed to children were both fewer in quantity and less rich in nouns, modifiers, verbs, past-tense verbs, and clauses. …

Constructivism and Block Scheduling: Making the Connection:

Abstract: The student-centered learning practices associated with constructivism could benefit from the increased class time that block scheduling offers. But, Mr. Hackmann observes, too often block scheduling is adopted as an end in itself, not as a tool to facilitate a specific pedagogical approach. THROUGHOUT much of the 20th century, classroom instructional practices tended to follow behaviorist learning theory, which regards teaching as a highly diagnostic and prescriptive process. The behaviorist approach typically advocates the presentation of curriculum content in small increments followed immediately by student practice. Behaviorism continues to play a significant role in today's classrooms, where many teachers rely primarily on direct instruction methods.1 In the past few decades, a growing body of research on cognitive processing has made inroads into classroom practices. Whereas behaviorism primarily focuses on the teacher's role as transmitter of knowledge, a different view of learning has emerged - constructivism - that emphasizes the student's role in the learning process. Building upon the work of Jean Piaget, Lev Vygotsky, and others, constructivist theory is based on the premise that individuals must be socially engaged in learning - actively creating knowledge from their existing knowledge base, beliefs, and personal experiences.2 Constructivists advocate learners' participation in context-bound, real-world problem solving and call upon students to engage in metacognition. Although constructivism appears to be attracting a growing following, it has not been readily embraced at the secondary school level. Arguably, constructivist practices may be implemented more easily in self-contained elementary classrooms or through the interdisciplinary teaming approach commonly used in middle schools. High schools tend to be departmentalized and more concerned with curriculum, and secondary teachers may be less willing to employ methods perceived as reducing the emphasis on content. An additional factor limiting attention to the constructivist movement at the secondary level could be the involvement of many faculties in another restructuring initiative - block scheduling. Much of the recent literature on high school education has addressed alternative scheduling, which may have overshadowed other educational trends. In the 1980s and 1990s, national task forces denounced the excessive rigidity of the traditional high school schedule - uniform 45- to 55- minute periods - and its stifling effect on classroom practices.3 In response, many faculties created block models that divide the instructional day into 80- to 110-minute class sessions, roughly double the length of traditional daily-period classes. Block scheduling has become established practice in high schools, but many educators are unable to explain why it is superior to traditional daily-period formats and what results it is intended to produce. Currently, there is no solid theoretical foundation for block scheduling, and there also is limited research documenting its effectiveness in improving student achievement.4 Many teachers have struggled to make effective use of the longer time blocks because they lack a conceptual understanding of the purpose for these extended time frames and of how they may facilitate learning. Constructivism and block scheduling appear to have occurred in parallel, yet independent, movements. However, there are many points of convergence between these two concepts. Here I present the commonalities between the two movements and demonstrate that block scheduling should logically be considered as a vehicle to promote constructivist practices. Constructivist Dialogue at the Secondary School Level In contrast to the well-developed teaching models based on behaviorism, constructivism is an emerging theory that is currently descriptive, not prescriptive, in nature.5 To promote greater comprehension and mastery of content, constructivists emphasize depth of understanding rather than a superficial treatment of subject matter. …

War, Critical Thinking, and Self-Understanding:

Abstract: Ms. Noddings believes we should not gloss over the controversial aspects of issues such as war but should challenge our students to confront them, grapple with them, and arrive at their own conclusions. CAN STUDENTS learn to think critically if they are not asked to engage with critical issues? Fostering critical thinking is frequently stated as a fundamental aim of education,1 and yet many teachers report that they have been forbidden to discuss such critical issues as current wars, religion, and cultural differences in styles of parenting. Critical thinkers raise questions about claims and about the motives of those who make them, they identify logical flaws in arguments, they evaluate the premises from which arguments are launched, they search for evidence to support claims, and they explore the likely consequences of proposed actions. Critical thinkers are also reflective in the important sense that they regularly turn their analyses and questions on their own thinking and practices. Thus critical thinking, as I am using the term here, addresses issues that are significant in the lives of those who engage in the practice. Moreover, teachers may need to help students come to understand that certain issues they have not yet considered are indeed significant in their lives. The study of formal and informal logic, reflection on past events, and simulation of conflicts all contribute to the development of critical thinking.2 But the failure to confront issues critical to the present lives of students when we seek to teach critical thought sends a contradictory message: think critically -- but not about really controversial issues! Or do it on your own time! School is not the place for analysis and discussion of critical issues. As a result, students who end their formal schooling with high school may never encounter important and fascinating debates on war, religion, or parenting. And they may or may not learn to think critically. Here I wish to present possible topics for a critical exploration of just one of these issues: war. War is already a major strand in the social studies curriculum, but the discussion is usually confined to political causes, leaders, battles, and the resulting rearrangement of national boundaries. I wish to address psychological issues related to war that should concern all citizens, especially the young who might join the military right out of high school. The main question I address is this: How can critical thinking help us to understand ourselves better and come to terms with our attitudes toward war? The Attractions of War "No one wants war" was a claim heard repeatedly as the U.S. and Great Britain prepared to invade Iraq. Were the political leaders who said this lying, or were they trying to reassure their citizens that they did not want war and would avoid it if at all possible? This question seems to be unanswerable, so I'll set it aside. Let's also set aside the obvious fact that some people make a great deal of money from war and its aftermath, and, although they deny it, they do want war. The questions that we must help young people to explore are these: Are there people, other than the greedy, who want war? Why? Are you such a person? Anthony Swofford, a young marine, has written about the desperate attractions of war. He notes that stories and films that disgust "Mr. and Mrs. Johnson in Omaha or San Francisco or Manhattan" -- films that threaten to convert many of us to pacifism -- have a very different effect on military men. Swofford writes: [They] watch the same films and are excited by them, because the magic brutality of the films celebrates the terrible and despicable beauty of their fighting skills. Fight, rape, war, pillage, burn. Filmic images of death and carnage are pornography for the military man.3 The rest of Swofford's paragraph is too obscene to reprint here, but his story is a familiar one. …

High School Career Exploration Programs: Do They Work?

Abstract: Current school reform efforts aim to increase the numbers of students who graduate from high school and go on to pursue postsecondary education or training. The authors look at seven types of career exploration programs to determine if this is an effective approach for accomplishing these goals. RIGHT NOW, many schools are scrambling to comply with the requirements of the federal No Child Left Behind (NCLB) Act, and educators are seeking strategies to boost achievement and move more students into higher education or a promising career. Raising academic standards for all students is the right thing to do, but standards-based school reform sometimes seems to ignore the fact that many students are simply not engaged sufficiently by academic study. If allowed to remain unmotivated and disengaged, these students risk failing in high school or dropping out, thus short-circuiting their chances for future success. We need strategies to persuade these young people that graduation and further studies are not only attainable but, for most occupations in this global economy, necessary. For many students, programs and activities that expose them to various careers can engage them in school and provide them with options. Many students know little about their career options, their own talents, what it's really like to work, and what preparation is needed for the kinds of jobs or further education that will set them on a career path. And overwhelmed school guidance counselors, with an average of 315 students per full-time counselor, can only do so much.1 Our public schools have long lived with the tension between their academic and vocational missions. But policy makers and school staff members have come to see that the goals of these missions are not mutually exclusive and, in fact, can be complementary. All students can benefit from more knowledge about career options and the skills and training required for different jobs, just as all can benefit from rigorous academic study. This was the central idea behind the federal School-to-Work Opportunities Act of 1994 (STWOA), which enabled states and school districts to fund a variety of programs and activities that would help high school students make informed decisions about their postsecondary education and career plans. Although the STWOA expired in 2002, it did help schools systematize, enrich, and expand their career exploration programs. Although estimates vary, approximately 43% of high school students had participated in at least one career exploration activity by 1997, and as many as 60% had done so by 2000.2 How best to incorporate career exploration activities into the high school curriculum remains the subject of significant debate among educators. Critics worry that college-bound students will see their academic classes "diluted" with vocational material or that they will "waste time" on pursuits such as job shadows instead of focusing on learning core academic skills in preparation for college. The opposite, but equally critical, view is that these programs, much like old tracking systems, will widen the divide between high-achieving and low- achieving students by diverting the latter group into vocational courses and away from rigorous academic study. Studies of career exploration programs are just now beginning to appear, providing some findings to inform this debate. Although we now know something about the characteristics of both the programs and the students who participate in them, we still know little about their impact. Small-scale studies, anecdotes, and case studies abound, but to date there has been no rigorous assessment of the effects of career exploration programs. Since the overarching goal of these programs, as well as virtually every other school reform effort, is to help more students graduate and go on to postsecondary education or training, we decided to examine how career exploration programs influence high school graduation and postsecondary enrollment rates. …

What's Wrong with Teaching to the Test?.

Abstract: Mr. Posner speculates on the evolution of a species that has been educated only to succeed on standardized tests. IN CALIFORNIA, where I live, and in many other states, the quality of public education -- and by extension the competence of its teachers -- is being measured by students' scores on standardized achievement tests. The pressure on teachers and administrators to improve these scores is enormous. Up until the recent budgetary crises in California, teachers in districts whose test scores improved sufficiently (relative to national percentile rankings) were eligible for cash bonuses and extra money for programs. Though these "positive" incentives are gone, most of the "negative" incentives continue. Teachers in schools and districts whose scores fail to improve adequately are branded and subjected to various indignities. Schools that continue to fail to improve may be closed, and districts that continue to fail may be subject to state takeover. Opponents of this so-called high-stakes testing complain that such intense pressure causes teachers to devote virtually all classroom time and resources to preparing students for the standardized test. This phenomenon is called "teaching to the test." Proponents of high-stakes testing respond that that is exactly as it should be. They argue that the tests measure success in teaching the curriculum and so "teaching to the test" is "teaching to the curriculum." And after all, isn't that what we want teachers to do? I was led to consider this notion while thinking about the accomplishment of a former colleague who recently made a major breakthrough in a famous unsolved problem in mathematics (though he did not arrive at a complete solution). He has been working on this and related problems for more than 25 years, and some of these problems have been under attack for more than a century. I wondered whether the skills and mental processes necessary to attack problems of this magnitude were qualitatively different from those required to solve more routine problems or whether the intellectual requirements were essentially the same but applied over a much longer period. The kinds of problems that can appear on a standardized test are, of course, quite limited in form and complexity, as the student is allocated only a minute or two to complete each one. If the intellectual processes required to solve a really complicated problem are not essentially the same as those required to solve these simpler problems, then a student prepared only to solve standardized test problems could well lack the mental preparation required to attack really hard problems. Part of my concern about this matter is that routine problems are the most amenable to solution by computer. Thus individuals equipped only with the ability to solve routine problems would be those most vulnerable to displacement by automation. Of course, solving famous unsolved problems in mathematics is a special calling and probably not a reasonable model for what we should expect from most of our students. As a model for evaluating whether teachers should teach to the test, we should use something more typical of the kind of everyday problems that concern us as workers or parents or citizens. But we needn't look far. The very question we are considering -- Should teachers teach to the test? -- strikes me as a typical example. Would the capabilities required to solve problems on standardized tests enable a student to attack this problem? As stated, the problem might seem too vague. The student might well respond, "What do you mean by should?" But that is the way real problems usually confront us. Should the U.S. invade Iraq? Should I have sex? Should I smoke pot? Should I add this service or feature to my product line? Reducing these more or less vague problems to more concrete questions is a major part of the problem-solving process in the real world. We typically attack such "should" problems by analyzing the possible consequences of the proposed actions, along with the probabilities of those consequences and their relative costs and benefits. …

The Test Mess

Abstract: T ESTS ARE a natural part of education, from the quizzes, essays, and classroom tests that teachers have traditionally administered to the high-stakes tests that states use to make decisions about graduation, promotion, and school funding and governance. Over the last 15 years, the movement for higher standards and accountability in our schools has led several states — and now the federal government with the No Child Left Behind (NCLB) Act — to adopt test-based accountability policies. However, when we select certain tests, mostly of the standardized paperand-pencil variety, and designate only those as “high-stakes,” problems arise — some quite serious. One only has to browse the Internet, read the newspaper, or listen to the local and national news to learn of the problems with the current testing movement. Most states have made an honest and intelligent effort to craft excellent standards and, often in partnership with testing companies, to design tests that measure whether students and schools are meeting some of the standards. However, the reliability of the actual tests and the many unintended consequences of high-stakes testing — from cheating by teachers and

An Innovative Professional Development Program for Urban Teachers

Abstract: tional Studies, Claremont Graduate University, Claremont, Calif. Work on this article was supported by a Small Grant for Exploratory Research from the National Science Foundation (REC-0004452) and a Field Initiated Studies Grant from the Office of Educational Research and Improvement (R-305T010585). The opinions expressed are those of the author and her co-principal investigators, Jeffrey Lewis and Laura Onafowora. BY MICHÈLE FOSTER