The Complaint Teachers Love to Hear

There was a buzz of activity in the computer lab in the library at Le Moyne College.  Students typed furiously, their notes and textbooks spread around them.  It's the last week of classes and papers and labs and exams loom over the young people working industriously in the brightly lit room.  No less industrious are two young girls, each at their own terminal, focused and intent.  They confer with one another from time to time, but mostly pound the keys in silence.  They are also working to complete a project -- but there is no deadline, no assignment, no grade.  They are doing this for themselves.  I point out a writing convention here or there, suggest an elaboration, but mostly watch in amazement as these young people create.  Finally I say the words so many students live to hear, "Okay, save that document.  It's time to go."

And they groan.  "Do we have to?!?" they whine, almost in unison.  And that's it.  That's the moment every teacher yearns for.  A student so delighted in learning, in reading and writing, that she doesn't want to stop -- even though the darkening night is turning cold and there are cookies and punch waiting in the other room.  Parents are coming to pick them up.  Dinner and relaxation await them at home.  But they want to stay here, under the fluorescent lights, and write.

I pry them from their computers and we gather with the other students to tie up our last meeting of LEAP for the year.  The cookies are quickly devoured and one of the youngest girls wins the trivia contest and gets to be the scribe for a collectively written thank you note for donors.  Here's what they wrote:

"Thank you for donating money to LEAP because we are grateful to have something to look forward to when we come.  We are also grateful for the books, binders, pens, markers, paper, and flipcharts.  We are in different groups.  One group is making an anti-bullying packet for our schools.  Another group is doing a play on child abuse.  The last group is writing a novel.  We couldn't do it without your help.  Sincerely, LEAP!"

Our scribe writing the thank you letter, with lots of helpers leaning in.

To be in a room with such earnest young people, working hard on projects they care about, is an honor and a privilege.  Let me add my thank you to theirs for all the support you've given LEAP over the years.  (And if you haven't yet had that privilege, there's a "Donate Now" button above!)  And let me add my complaint to theirs, as well.  Do we have to take a break until January!!?!  Can't wait for the New Year.

Testing v. Learning

We have taken to measuring our children’s success repeatedly and then using that data to assess how we are teaching, who is teaching, where funding should go and other important aspects of our education system.  This sounds, on paper, like a great idea – get the data and then respond to reality.  So how could this go wrong?

Well, first, there is the experience of being tested to contend with.  Each test gives us information about how students are doing – but the test is another educational experience, as well.  And that experience affects our children.  What does it feel like, at the age of 5, to be just starting school and begin with a test?  And, since it is a baseline test, you are expected to fail it.  And you do.  And you’re five.  One kindergarten teacher described her students’ response: “They don’t know how to hold pencils.  They don’t know letters, and you have answers that say A, B, C, or D and you’re asking them to bubble in. . . .  They break down; they cry.”  Research shows that these tests can decrease students’ love of learning (Jones et al., 80).  They may score well on a test, but also learn to dislike school.  And the level of anxiety high-stakes testing produces can make many students physically ill, with incidents of stomach aches and headaches skyrocketing on test days (Jones et al., 95).  Testing and the anxiety that accompanies it often leads to lower scores (Cassady and Johnson 273), which then increases test anxiety for the next test, creating a destructive cycle.  Ironically, our measurements of how well our students are learning may show less achievement than they would be capable of without these measurements. 

Second, there are limitations to what we can measure on a standardized test.  A multiple choice instrument is not conducive to measuring creativity and imagination.  You cannot see how a student arrived at an answer.  But, since more qualitative measures are difficult to score, we opt for bubbling in A, B, C and D.  These multiple choice questions are best suited to lower level thinking skills like memorization and description.  Higher level thinking like analysis and evaluation are difficult to test by choosing one of four offered answers.  Even memory is not well tested by multiple choice, because the answer is written out for the student and all she has to do is find it in the list – rather than recall it herself.  And don’t forget that a student may have guessed the correct answer.  Standardized tests do not give us a window into the thought-processes of students.  As teachers, our goal is to meet students where they are struggling and help them figure out the material, but a score on a standardized test does not give us the information we need to do so.

So what are children achieving when they score well on a standardized test?  They have prepped well, their teacher has drilled them on the facts they need to know to pass the test, and they have good memories.  This does not tell me if the student has new, creative ideas or if he is engaged by reading The Giver or if he understands the causes of the Civil War.  Albert Einstein once complained that coercive testing so turned him off to learning that he gave up on science for a year.  Are we losing some young Einsteins because of our current emphasis on high stakes testing?  

Bibliography

Cassady, Jerrell C. and Ronald E. Johnson.  "Cognitive Test Anxiety and Academic Performance."  Contemporary Educational Psychology.  (2002) 27:270-295.

Jones, M. Gail, Brett D. Jones, and Tracy Y. Hargrove.  The Unintended Consequences of High-Stakes Testing.  Lanham, MD: Rowman and Littlefield, 2003.

Monahan, Rachel. "Kindergarten gets touch as kids are forced to bubble in multiple choice tests."  New York Daily News.  10 Oct 2013.

 "Multiple Choice Tests."  FairTest.  fairtest.org.  17 Aug 2007.

The Joys of Teaching -- without High Stakes Testing

I believe two things with all my heart:

-- Children love learning and, therefore, teaching should be delightful

--  I am the luckiest person in the world

These two things are confirmed every time I step into the small room in the Falcone Library at Le Moyne College where, on Tuesday evenings, we hold the LEAP program.  These lovely children come on their own time to read, research and write.  They race ahead of us with ideas and energy.  Our jobs as teachers are more about guiding their boundless energy than prodding them to get to work.  This Tuesday night, as the parents arrived to pick up kids at 8 p.m., one girl sighed audibly.  "Already?!" she complained.  If only children felt that way every day at the end of the school day.  And I believe they would -- if education can be realigned with its true purpose.

The kids in LEAP are reading, researching and writing in order to make a change in their worlds.  The kids in this year's programs are in three groups.  The oldest group is researching child abuse and writing a pamphlet to be distributed to their peers.  They want "by kids, for kids" emblazoned on the brochure.  So as they work on getting the grammar and spelling right, and making sure their information is correct, they are not focused on passing an exam, but on getting the word out about a problem that is important to them.  The same energy these kids would have put into spreading the news about a new romance or break-up goes into what is, actually, school work.

A group of LEAP kids enjoying Whoopi Golberg's Sugar Plum Ballerinas series

One group has decided to write a novel about bullying.  They decided that people should see how a person becomes a bully (based on their research, many bullies were bullied themselves in the past).  They also wanted to let people know that there are effective ways to stand up to a bully.  Inspired by Katherine Applegate's The One and Only Ivan, they, too, wanted to write a story about overcoming obstacles and the grace and dignity people have, even in the worst circumstances.  By writing a novel, they can show the internal struggles of the characters (a trio of girls).  The energy they are putting into writing this novel -- which they have no doubt will be published, because it is "awesome!" -- is amazing.  And, of course, we will do all that we can to make sure that the novel gets into the hands of a publishing house.  We believe that the kids in the program have something important to say and will do anything we can to help them say it.

I should point out that these children are exceeding all expectations in the Common Core State Standards for responding to literature, writing narratives, gathering information through digital sources, revising based on input from teachers and peers, and using proper grammar and spelling (although we did discuss the use of dialect, the power of The Color Purple and accurate portrayal of characters).  But don't tell them they are exceeding Common Core Standards -- they think they're just having fun.

I look at these children, happily working away on their own time, when they could be home watching television or playing video games, and the contrast between them and the picture concerned parent Jeanette Deutermann draws of children dealing with state assessments:

We saw our children crying at night over months and months of test prepping homework. We heard our children say, “please don’t make me go to school”. We saw our 8, 9 and 10 year olds wake in the middle of the night asking, “What will happen if I do bad on the test?” On test days we watched our children break out in hives, refuse to eat, throw up, lock themselves in school bathrooms, shake, sob, and lose their smiles. These are not isolated instances, but an epidemic. (You can read Deutermann's full account here.)

 The atmosphere created by high stakes testing is draining away the energy and joy our students naturally have when it comes to learning.  The good news is that it pops right back when children are placed in a supportive, purpose driven environment.  We learn to read, write and do arithmetic in order to communicate with each other and solve life's problems.  We learn in order to be citizens.  The kids in LEAP, given that opportunity, are engaged and excited about learning.  And that brings me back to my second truth: I am the luckiest person in the world.  Why?  Because I get to watch what kids can do, watch them take charge, grow and learn -- and I get to help them do it.  There is nothing more rewarding.

What Outcomes Are We Assessing?

Given the way we bicker over high stakes testing, the Common Core, merit pay, and other educational reforms and policies, it may be hard to believe that teachers, parents and policy makers all want the same things for our children – positive outcomes.  If we all want our children to do well, why can’t we agree? The answer is that we define “positive outcomes” in many different ways.  In our increasingly test-driven educational system, the policy makers have taken control of that definition.  Positive outcomes has come to mean high test scores on standardized exams.  I remember pushing my son to study for the SAT and re-take it until he got a number that would become a golden ticket to admission to the right university and, following graduation with another number (a GPA of 3.5 or higher), a successful life.  The focus on that number as an indication of the value of a child’s education and his or her potential for a successful life has filled our vision to the exclusion of all else.  The child’s success, the teacher’s job and salary, the fate of the school and the future of our nation have all been tied to that number.

Imagine a child, number two pencil clutched in her hand, prodded and prepped for this moment, carefully filling in circles that will determine so many futures.  She reads a passage from Letter from Rifka describing a girl, about her age, arriving in the U.S. from Russia.  There is much that is compelling in this passage – Rifka’s yearning to be reunited with her parents; her unexplained baldness; the difficulties and delays on the journey; her first glimpse of Lady Liberty, holding up her lamp – but, after reading this passage, the child is asked three questions about basic facts (who is speaking, where is she traveling from, what does she see first in NY harbor) and two vocabulary questions (the meaning of “assist” and “clever”).  How does this young girl read this passage?  Does she scan it for quick answers to the factual questions?  Slide her finger over the text until she finds the word “assist” or “clever” and then focus on that sentence alone?  Let us say that our young scholar gets all five questions right – is this the positive outcome we were looking for? (This example comes from the California StandardsTest for 3rd grade.)

If this young girl were in the LEAP program, we would talk about the similarities and differences between Rifka and herself.  We would wonder what it would feel like to be separated from ones parents by an ocean for a long period of time.  We would ask if we could have endured the journey.  We would hypothesize about the causes of Rifka’s baldness and wonder how it felt to see the Statue of Liberty rising on the horizon, light shining from her uplifted hand.  We would journal about these questions, write our own letters about similar situations, act out scenes, talk about our families and a hundred other things I can’t imagine at this moment because the children would instigate them.  Let us imagine that the same young girl, in the LEAP program, wrote an imaginary letter to a cousin about a trip she had taken.  Perhaps there would be some spelling errors – which we would note and correct – but the importance of the writing would be to understand an important time in U.S. history and connect it to our lives now. Is this the positive outcome we are looking for?

I know many excellent teachers who strive for the same kinds of outcomes that LEAP works for.  However, unlike LEAP, they must also prepare students for the kind of exams that ask “Where is Rifka traveling from?” and the time they have to pursue less easily measured gains is cut short. 

Imagine also a parent listening in as a child moves his cars around the floor, narrating the adventures imaginary people are having.  “Oh no . . . the road is blocked!  But “Crash!” in comes super truck, and the obstacle is removed.  “Thank you, thank you!” squeals a high pitched voice, “now we can go to the store!”  The deepest voice the child can muster replies: “No problem!  Glad to help.”  And the parent grins, imagining a future for her son – will he be in some helping profession like firefighter?  Will he always be so polite and say “thank you” and “glad to help”?  Will he always have a vibrant imagination, turning trucks into superheroes?  And, please God, will he always be as happy as he is in this moment? Are these the positive outcomes we are looking for?  Do we teach or test them in our current educational system?

Parents want the best for their children.  We’ve been told that the best is a high score on a standardized test.  And there are valuable things that children learn that can be measured that way.  But the truly important things in life – wonder, discovery, imagination, community – cannot be measured by a multiple choice question.  And we do want our children to learn these things and they can be learned in school.  I know that I experienced many of these things in my own education (long before No Child was left behind and we all started Racing to the Top).  Accountability for schools, teachers and children is not a bad thing – but before we go any farther along this path, we have to ask, “accountable for what?”

Education of the people, by the people, for the people

As a philosopher, I often step back and look at things with an eye for large patterns.  It is easy to get caught up in the day-to-day struggle -- which is so important -- and to become mired in questions about this or that practice or the contours of one particular event.  It is vital that we engage on that close to the ground level.  We must act thoughtfully where the rubber hits the road.  But it is also important to step back and look at the road itself. Where are we going?  Why this road?  What is the destination?  With that in mind, I began to think about why we have public education, with the hope that the answer to that question can be used to guide thoughtful engagement on the ground.

My concern is with public education in the United States.  It is public education -- funded by federal, state and local government and provided to all.  Why do we have such a system?  Why does our government -- a government "of the people, by the people, for the people" feel that educating young people is important?

Our government is "of the people."  Our leaders are not blue-blooded nobles, of some separate caste from the majority of citizens.  We serve in the government.  Our leaders are elected from among us and asked to take on the task of guiding all of us.  But they have no special "divine right" to rule, no innate quality that makes them suitable -- each and every mayor and city councilperson, congressional representative and senator, governor and judge, president and county clerk is one of us.  For that reason, we want to make sure that all of our children are well educated and prepared to take on the task of leadership, should they choose to run and should we choose to elect them.  Looking at a group of children -- from the 5 year old who tells an endless story punctuated with "and you know what?" to the teenage who asks why reading Shakespeare is necessary -- we cannot know which of them will be our government in 30 years.  So our schools must provide the information and skills they will need to make wise decisions for the rest of us.  Our schools must develop the leaders who are "of the people."

At the same time, our government is "by the people."  The electing of this representative or that one is done by your friends and neighbors.  The decision of guilty or not guilty is made by that kid who was sitting next to you in history class, doodling on her desk.  I have listened to people complain that they should not have to pay for the education of other people's children, because they do not have children in the public school system themselves.  But we are not so independent of one another.  Your future is in the hands of all the citizens of the United States -- they vote and sit on juries, they organize political rallies and pay (or don't pay) their taxes.  And each of the decisions they make impacts you.  So our schools must provide the information and skills they will need to make wise decisions for all of us.  We must prepare the next generation of citizens who will run our government "by the people."

Last, our government is "for the people."  As a governmental enterprise, education improves the "common wealth" -- well educated people enrich our lives by creating business that both improve the economy and provide us with goods and services we need.  Well-educated people enrich our lives by writing the novels, plays, television shows and movies that entertain and move us.  Well-educated people enrich our lives through innovation that transforms our lives -- from smart phones to symphonies.  Being well educated is a joy.  Our schools must provide the rich cultural heritage and the business skills needed to develop new ideas and share them with others.  Our schools must be "for the people" by enriching our lives.

What does this mean for public education?  We could have a meaningful discussion about content.  Surely our students need to understand the history of the United States, so that they can participate in the democratic process thoughtfully.  Students need science and math, so they can understand the challenges we face and work to overcome them.  Students need the humanities to enrich their lives and ours.  Students need a trade, so that they can contribute to the economy.  But there is one thing that all students need whether to be leaders, citizens, or enriched (and enriching) individuals.  They must all learn to think and to think well.

Yes, all of us think all the time.  But our school system must teach our children how to evaluate the ideas of others, what to make of the evidence they are presented, how to develop a new idea and test it, how to challenge ideas so that the new ideas that move us forward are tempered through public debate.  Critical thinking is the most important thing that our schools can offer to children -- and to us -- because we want smart, thoughtful people to lead us in 30 years.

What does that mean when we return from this foray into philosophy and return to the everyday struggle?  It means that when we consider the value of high stakes testing, we ask ourselves, "Does this promote critical thinking?"  When we wonder about the Common Core, we ask ourselves, "Does this promote critical thinking?"  When we choose a textbook, set up assessment systems, work out an IEP, decide whether to suspend a student, deal with bullies, have a guest speaker or write up a worksheet, we stop and ask ourselves, "Does this promote critical thinking?"

What would education look like if promoting critical thinking was the primary goal?  Would it look like the public education system we have?  Or would it be dramatically different?  Let me know what you think in the comments below.

Never Doubt . . .

The kids in the LEAP summer program in New Orleans are tying up their third week -- one more to go!  Although I am in Syracuse, watching the progress from afar, I couldn't be more excited about what the kids are learning.

First, the kids are voracious readers!  The program is committed to having each child go home with one book that she or he has read.  To that end, we bought well over 100 books before the camp began.  But the kids have gobbled those up and we've order two more shipments of books over the weeks.  How wonderful!  (Of course, that means our budget is greater than we had expected -- but it's worth it!  If you'd like to help out, there's a "Donate Now" link above!)  From Dr. Seuss to Walter Dean Myers, these kids are inhaling books with rich language and rich messages.  I'm so proud of them -- and of the fabulous teachers who are helping them improve their reading skills.

The younger elementary kids (1st-3rd) continue with their problem-solving.  (See our recent post "Is a Party a Problem?")  The second and third graders met together this week -- and the second graders had difficult news for the third graders -- their menu had too many calories!  (They wanted fried chicken, pizza and wings -- and cupcakes and strawberry shortcake and peach cobbler -- and, of course, crawfish!)  So the two groups are working together to plan a menu and activities that keeps the net calories gained from the event down to 100.  Isn't that amazing?  When you were in second grade, could you have understood the phrase "net calories below 100"?

The older elementary kids (4th - middle school) are developing their own problem statements in response to the fabulous literature they are reading.  Two groups are reading The One and Only Ivan.  One is working on animal cruelty, the other is looking at what art is -- and learning about Jackson Pollock.  Do you think that Pollack's work (which many of these kids feel they could recreate easily) is art?

The oldest kids are working on their own life plans -- if they want to be a lawyer or a mechanic; a teacher or a doctor -- how do they get there?

And the rising 5th graders, who are reading Number the Stars, are developing a report on bullying.  They have done extensive research and are thinking of ways to respond to bullying situations.  Who would have guessed that reading a book about the Holocaust would lead to problem-solving about bullying?  Perhaps the brave work of the Danish people, who systematically smuggled all the Danish Jews to Sweden -- beyond Nazi reach -- inspired them.  The beauty of the problem-based learning approach is that the kids are encouraged to take the project in a direction that is meaningful to them -- so they made the connection between Nazis and bullies and are thoughtfully committed to changing their own worlds!

More updates as the program goes into its last week after the Independence Day holiday.

Common Core -- friend or foe?

I'm torn about the Common Core movement.  Yes, there are problems with implementation -- you can't test something that hasn't been taught yet.  But setting that to one side -- what do you think about the common core itself?

I'm impressed with the standards that I've seen -- they emphasize skills, mostly critical thinking, research and writing skills.  These are skills I value highly and would love to see all my students come to college with.  But I work in my little corner of the world (academia) and, while I prize these skills, I wonder what others think.

I also wonder about how people are working out the details of turning standards into actual lesson plans.  How creative can you be?   Are you forced to use problem-based learning, if that is not your style?  (One reader raised -- and dismissed that concern.)  How will differentiated instruction work with the Common Core?

Many of you are working on this right now -- how are you finding the process?  Is it exciting and fruitful -- or another top down mandate that blacks your ability to teach?  Let's get a conversation going in the comments section.