School Reform: Can It Work?

As I get closer to the end of my doctoral studies, I am left feeling both hopeless about the future of a consistently successful school reform model while at the same time feeling more informed about the realities of an opportunity gap that exists in our country. We have spent the last three years immersed in conversations about school reform and the achievement gap that has supposedly been plaguing many of our schools, especially those found in urban areas. What I have come to believe and understand over the course of the last few months is that issues plaguing our schools go way beyond an achievement gap and are actually rooted in the opportunity gap that has permeated our society and is perpetuated within the confines of our schools. Our emphasis has become so singularly focused on addressing the achievement gap that we have lost sight of the whole child and the opportunity gap that potentially faces our children before they attend formal schooling and after they graduate high school. It is my belief that our nation is filled with the “haves” and “have-nots,” which are at the root of the opportunity gap, and our schools continue to sort individuals into these two categories regardless of whether they are attending a public school, independent school or charter school.

From the release of A Nation At Risk over twenty years ago to the roll out of the Common Core State Standards about four years ago to the emphasis on educator effectiveness over the last two years, the discussions in most school districts have been focused on accountability in an effort to close the achievement gap and give all children access to highly effective educators and schools. We have come to believe that our schools are not effectively preparing our children for college and careers beyond school and thus school reform has been anointed as the highest priority.

Unfortunately, what we know through extensive research is that no one approach to school reform has been proven to work consistently nor has one been successfully replicated in different contexts. Let’s consider charter schools and their impact on the school reform movement over the last twenty years. Curto et. al. (2011) argue that certain charter school models, such as KIPP and Harlem Children Zone Promise Academy, are indicative of the fact that a “high quality” school is enough to potentially transform the state of poverty and racial inequality in the United States. The review argues that a high quality school alone offers higher social returns than community-based interventions because students in these “high quality” charter schools are showing slight academic gains, especially in the area of mathematics, over their counterparts in public schools.

Reading this review of data in isolation could easily sway private funders and urban communities to believe that opening a “high quality” charter school will solve many of their problems and successfully close the achievement gap. From my perspective, those beliefs would be wrong! First off, we know that reviews such as this one, where the focus is on a small number of schools and students, spotlight data that may not be trustworthy and cannot be easily generalized (Hill, et. al., 2006). Curto et. al. focused their review on the research of others (in Boston and New York) and then zeroed in on a small number of charter schools from within those studies but in the end, didn’t accurately reflect all the information we know about these specific schools. For example, using the Harlem Children’s Zone Promise Academy as an example of a “high quality” school and not emphasize all the wrap around services they provide their students and the surrounding community paints an incomplete picture. In fact, if anything, HCZ is a strong example of the idea that it does take a village to educate a child, which is the opposite argument this study was presenting. Furthermore, what we know about charter schools through several other studies (Bracey, 2005; Zimmer et. al, 2003; and Miron & Nelson, 2001) is that their results are mixed at best. In some cases they perform better than local public schools while in many other cases they perform at the same rates or worse than similar non-charter schools. Finally, when considering the Curto et. al. review we see that there is evidence suggesting that some charter schools are struggling to get their students through college, even though they may have closed the achievement gap during the elementary and middle school years. This struggle, post charter school, speaks to the opportunity gap that negatively impacts the “have-nots” in our society because although charter schools can control many variables while the children are in their buildings, they cannot effectively control what happens after children graduate.   

In addition to the mixed data we have about the success of charter schools, which many would argue are the silver bullet in current school reform movement, we also know that some charters employ strategies and techniques that have not been proven to have long-lasting positive impacts on students, their performance or the surrounding communities. For example, there are charter schools that employ educators, in both teaching and leadership positions, who are products of the Teach For America program, which in itself has been a focal point of the school reform movement. Many of the educators who have been trained through the Teach For America program and end up in leadership positions would argue that improving schools and closing the achievement gap can be handled by charismatic leaders through mostly managerial solutions where they hold teachers accountable (Trujillo & Scott, 2013). Trujillo & Scott (2013) point out that TFAers who assume leadership positions rarely focus on the social and political inequalities impacting the school; these leaders also devote little time to collaborating with the community and the children’s socio-emotional needs are not a priority. The focus in spaces led by these educators is test scores, which they see as the primary way to close the achievement gap while all the while ignoring the opportunity gap. If these leaders would dedicate time to connecting with both their students and the communities at large, I would argue that they would better understand the issues impacting the children and their families and they would appreciate that test scores are only one tiny piece of the puzzle in trying to address both the achievement and opportunity gaps.

Regrettably, there are some important voices missing from the school reform movement conversation – the voices of students and their families. The lack of emphasis on student voice and engaging the families and community is a theme that runs through many of the readings we have encountered during this course. Whether it was the reform movement in Philadelphia where all decisions were made behind closed doors and community input was minimal, if any, or the PSCI movement in Los Angeles where families and the surrounding community were often confused as to the goals of this initiative (Marsh et. al, 2012), the common thread is the lack of community voice and engagement as it relates to school reform. The silence doesn’t end there though because the voices of the students are also rarely heard in the school reform movement. In some charter schools, students are expected to have little or no say in their educational experiences and little choice in how learning unfolds within the context of school (Goodman, 2013). This lack of student voice and disapproval on the part of the adults for much of what students may want to express could be contributing to an diminished sense of self, which could have detrimental long term affects and could further contribute to the opportunity gap. Research shows that increasing student voice within the context of school can actually serve as a catalyst to improve teaching, learning, the curriculum and the relationships between teachers and students (Soo Hoo, 1993). Why would student voice and increased community engagement not be a focal point in the school reform movement when we know that these voices not only inform our practices but may also transform them? Our children and their families have a strong sense of self, the community and the school and by giving them a voice in the school reform movement, we may not only expand our approaches to addressing the achievement gap but we may also start understanding the opportunity gap, which is THE gap we need to close if we want to make progress as a nation.      

Words

I will never forget that moment. The moment my son's friend used the word gay in a derogatory way as I walked by them. The instant I heard that word as my son clearly heard it too and our eyes locked on each other and then there were no words. Silence. Just silence between two people who were uncertain about how to respond or how to handle the moment.

Yes, this did happen and although it left me feeling a variety of emotions (it was an unsettling experience), it also gave me this amazing and important opportunity to engage in a conversation with my son about how he felt in that moment. Was he uncomfortable? Was he upset? Was my sexuality a source of discomfort for him? What did he wish happened instead? We also talked about how he might handle a situation of that nature when it happens again... not IF, but WHEN because it will definitely happen again. 

You see, from my perspective and experiences, the derogatory use of words like gay or faggot (or retarded or girly or the dozens of other terms) is common place in our society, especially for children in their intermediate schooling years. Heck, I was guilty of using this type of language too when I was his age. But, what words could I help my son access today so he could handle that moment of discomfort when it arises again in the future? We discussed possible responses that he was comfortable with that would communicate his feelings about the specific term or situation. We even role played and practiced using certain words or phrases. We took a potentially painful situation and made it a teachable moment that hopefully empowered my son to successfully navigate an experience of this nature in the future. 

Unfortunately, I am not sure if all the children in our schools have the words to handle uncomfortable situations, personal attacks or just ignorant behavior on the part of their peers. With all this talk about college and career readiness and the implementation of the common core state standards (a questionable experience thus far) and the focus on high stakes testing, I am worried that we are not attending to some of the "life skills" our children need to navigate certain situations and experiences. Specifically, I am worried that we are not taking the time to expose our children to the words they may need to handle a challenging situation. Yes, there is a lot of emphasis on the social and emotional literacy of our students.  We talk a lot about perseverance and grit and how if our kids were taught to embody these attributes, they could meet with success regardless of the obstacles life threw their way. We also talk a lot about things like anti-bullying programs or the Bucket Filling philosophy or the importance of our children being UPstanders and not a bystanders. But, in thinking about how these programs/ideas/concepts generally manifest themselves within our own schools, my concern is that we are focusing too heavily on what not to say or do instead of devoting the time to the words our children may need to handle a difficult exchange, peer or situation.

From my narrow and limited perspective, I think our children need words. They need space to think, reflect, discuss and deliberate. They need the opportunity to role play about how to handle derogatory statements that belittle someone because of their race, class, gender or sexuality. Our children need the words to give voice to themselves as individuals. Our children need the words to express their comfort and discomfort. Our children need the words to successfully question and engage with people or contexts that are unfamiliar to them. Our children need the words to advocate for themselves. Our children need the words to communicate their feelings and needs. 

Do I think equipping our children with words is solely the responsibility of our schools? Absolutely not! I see this as a joint venture between home and school... between families and educators... between adults and children. If we want our children to be college and career ready... actually, scratch that because college and career are just a fraction of our lives; if we want our children to be life ready, we need to give them access to the words.              

Point of Pontification

Has Twitter just become a place for people to pontificate? Do people (myself included) just like to get up on their little 140 character soap box and say stuff without engaging in a dialogue with others? Or is this something I am just noticing because of where I am in my Twitter journey? I am not sure about the answers to any of these questions but they have definitely been on my mind after participating in a couple of Twitter chats over the last few weeks and reflecting on my own use of the medium.

I realize that being a connected educator means that I have access to ideas, perspectives and resources from around the world, which is an amazing thing! I also value the friendships that I have forged with members of my PLN, who I have come to rely on for "conversations" and on going dialogue thanks to Twitter. Whether I am discussing a Lunchroom DJ idea with Brad Gustafson or reflecting on a different way to tell our school story with Joe Sanfelippo, my PLN has become a source of inspiration and motivation.  

With that being said, on the flip side, I have also seen Twitter be used as a space where individuals are just pushing an idea; or going on and on about a topic that is important to them; or simply looking to call someone else out. Whatever the case, I feel like I am noticing more and more people who are not necessarily looking to engage, discuss and deliberate, which I recognize is challenging to accomplish in 140 characters, but instead just looking for a space to sound off. My awareness to this phenomenon (might not be the right word) was heightened during two chats I recently tried to engage in - last week's #ptchat, which focused on the recent events in Ferguson and race, and last week's #NYedchat, which focused on the concept of STEAM. Both topics are ones that I am interested in and was excited to participate in but when I did, I experienced two things... 

The first thing I noticed was that some people were not looking to unpack an idea and better understand it through an exchange; instead, they were looking to react and push back on something they may have misunderstood. Granted, I realize this happens often because with Twitter tone is lost and thus at times the intent and meaning get fuzzy - this has happened to me many times. But, before we push back and react, shouldn't we engage in an exchange to deepen our understanding? Shouldn't we check our own understandings and interpretations before being offended or reacting? Doesn't deliberation help us broaden our point of view and enhance our thinking? Isn't that what we should model for our kids each day? 

The other thing I noticed during these chats was that some people were just sharing what can best be described as cliches (I am guilty of this too) and there was no tweet following the cliche to substantiate the idea. Sure, it's great to sound like the inside of a fortune cookie; sure, it is easy to point out all that is wrong with public education; and sure, it is simple to tell everyone else what they should be doing in their classrooms but what does that really look like? I am not quite sure because I am often left looking for the idea to unpack the cliche. 

In the end, maybe it's just me: My tweets; my perspective; my exchanges; and my understandings. Maybe I am guilty of the above and I am just becoming aware. Not sure what the deal is yet but what I do know is that I am going to try and avoid the point of pontification and instead, focus on exchanges that will help me enhance my craft.