When "jargon" became more important than kids

Every profession has its share of jargon that only those in the profession fully understand (or care to understand).  Acronyms, abbreviations and Greek and Latin terms are normally used to either expedite communication or to clarify (or in many cases specify) exactly what process, test, or procedure is needed.  In education, however, acronyms have an entirely different purpose – accountability.  Think you understand education jargon?  See how well you do understanding this scenario:

 Pablo is a 10-year old ESOL student, who recently enrolled in a new school.  The AP at his new school reviews his CUM folder and SIF folder and enters his name into TERMS.  She discovers that Pablo has an active IEP.  Originally, he had a 504-Plan, but after extensive class time spent in an RtI group, which was established in response to NCLB, he was referred for additional testing.  Using a Connors (to make sure he is not ADHD), an IQ test and other ESE testing instruments, it was determined that Pablo was SLD.   The 504-Plan was closed and an IEP was written because students cannot have both designations.   Due to the ADA of 1990, Pablo was placed in his least restrictive environment – a regular education class.  The AP notes that Pablo’s IEP minutes will be met through pull-out services.  Pablo’s most recent FCAT scores show that he is a Level 1 reader and a Level 1 math student.   He attended a six-week Summer Reading Camp at the end of third grade and scored at the 51^st percentile on the SAT 10.  The AP makes a notation that Pablo’s new teacher and the Reading Strategies Coach will need to continue to provide both Tier 1 and Tier 2 instruction and that Pablo’s progress in reading will be monitored using bi-weekly ORF and MAZE assessments and quarterly using FAIR.  These scores will be entered into AIMS and printouts of his scores will be kept in his SIF folder.  During math instruction, Pablo will be pulled out of his regular education class and placed in a Tier 3 or  “triple I” group with other ESE students.  His ORF, MAZE, FAIR and FASTT Math scores, along with scores on his Reading and Math Benchmark Assessments, will be entered by the school district into Performance Matters.  Pablo’s classroom teacher will print these scores and keep them in a Data Monitoring notebook. Data Monitoring notebooks will be reviewed twice a quarter to ensure that Pablo’s classroom teacher, ESE teacher and the Reading Coach are recording data, analyzing Pablo’s strengths and weaknesses and differentiating instruction to meet Pablo’s needs.  Pablo’s classroom teacher will also document in his lesson plans all the SSS and Access Points that are covered in each lesson, not to mention the ESOL strategies.  Finally, the AP then sends an email to Pablo’s new teacher suggesting that he write his IPDP based on how well Pablo (and the other ESE and ESOL students in his class) do on FCAT Reading this year.  She notes that if these students do well,  the school might achieve AYP.

Some will argue that these programs, student designations and assessment measures were needed to make teachers, administrators and school districts more accountable for student learning.  Others will tell you that quality instruction, teacher-driven assessment, cooperative learning and critical thinking, have been sacrificed as a result of a numbers-driven mentality.  Norm-referenced assessments, like those accumulated in the most recent NAEP report, show that students in Florida – and across America – have made little gains in reading, math and science over the past 25 years despite these measures. 

How do we fix this problem?  There is no panacea.  We can do a few simple things, though.  We can start by eliminating high-stakes testing.  One test is not an accurate reflection of student learning.   Secondly, we need to stop the ridiculous practice of “categorical funding” that separate facilities and operations money.   Finally, and most important, we need to move educational decision-making away from the federal and state levels and return it to the local level.  Who knows better what students in our schools need than the teachers and administrators who work with them every day? 

The students I taught 20 plus years ago are now the doctors, lawyers, and teachers you see today. Apparently, we didn’t do too bad of a job before all the jargon.

When it became fashionable to push rather than pull

A friend of mine recently made a very interesting comment.  She said, “There are two types of leaders – those who lead by pushing others along and forcing them to do what they want them to do, and those who lead by pulling others to join them and lead by their passion and commitment.” 

Over the past 20 years, I have worked for nine different principals.  Some of these men and women were leaders who pushed, and some were leaders who pulled.  While all nine were effective and possessed their own unique strengths, two of them have stood head and shoulders above the rest.

Why?  They were pullers.  They lead their faculty and staff by example, passion and commitment.  They were not content with the status quo.  They sought innovative  teaching concepts.  They educated themselves to the point of expertise.  They encouraged teachers to do the same.  They were risk takers.  More important, they got others – those in their charge – to believe in them, to devote themselves to the same concepts and to follow – willfully and joyfully. 

The first “puller” was my first principal, Clyde Folsom.  Mr. Folsom was a dominant, physical presence.  He was well over six feet tall and well over 250 pounds.  He spoke with a loud, booming Tennessee accent.  There wasn’t a challenge he didn’t like or take head on.  One of my fondest recollections of Mr. Folsom involved a parent who came into the front office of our school, screaming, “You people in here have your heads up your asses!” Upon hearing her,  Mr. Folsom came running out of his office, first grabbing his head, then his rear end.  He looked at the parent and calmly stated, “No, Ma’am.  My head is right here on my shoulders.  Now, if you’d like to discuss something with me and can do so without screaming or using profanity, I’d be happy to talk to you in my office.”

 Like most principals in Marion County at that time, Clyde Folsom was an ex-basketball coach, but the coach-turned-administrator stereotype stopped there.  Clyde Folsom was an innovator, who wasn’t afraid of ruffling a few feathers.  He was a fearless leader in curriculum development and a stickler for discipline. 

After a fairly long and distinguished career as a high school principal, Mr. Folsom was “punished” by district staff because he had the audacity to suspend a group of kids for actions committed after a football game (but off campus).   His punishment was to oversee the worst school in the district.  A school that “folks” in the area – thirty years after segregation – still called, “the black school.”  It was a school in physical, academic and emotional disrepair.  To Clyde Folsom, it was a clean palate. 

Clyde Folsom took his new palate and created a masterpiece.  He started by overseeing a $5.5 million renovation, which resulted in a near complete physical reconstruction.  It wasn’t unusual to see him cutting the grass (using his own riding mower), or watering flowers, or cutting tree branches.  He wrote grants to get new fencing and a full-time resource officer on campus.  Howard Middle School went from a worn out, broken down group of buildings that kids used to break into by cutting out the cinder blocks to a diamond in the rough. 

In addition to an old and worn out group of buildings, Clyde had inherited an old and worn out faculty – one that had “seen it all” and who knew how to teach “these kinds of kids.”  Clyde Folsom knew better.  He began by implementing a curriculum that utilized true “team teaching” – four teachers: one math, one science, one social studies and one language arts teacher, who taught the same group of students.  There were no bells to mark the change of classes.  If the math teacher needed more time, she simply put her head through the doorway to the science teacher’s room and said, “I need 10 more minutes.  Is that O.K.?”  He implemented a 98-minute block schedule.  He then hired consultants to teach teachers how to plan curriculum, integrate instruction and manage student behaviors.  If a student was unruly, disrespectful or off task, he had no business being in a classroom, according to Mr. Folsom.  The Time Out room became a place kids did not want to visit on his watch.

At first, teachers balked at all the changes, but when they saw the dedication, the passion, the drive and how Clyde Folsom was right there with them every step of the way – in every workshop, in every classroom, in every parent meeting – they wanted to follow, they wanted to change, they wanted to be part of the solution and not part of the problem.  The three years I spent at Howard Middle School were three of the best years of my career.  Had I not worked for Clyde Folsom, I doubt I would still be teaching today.

Pat Donovan – the other great “puller” – was in many ways the antithesis of Clyde Folsom and in many ways his Doppelganger.  She was (is) a tall, gregarious, athletic “Jersey Girl” who was equally at home cheering kids to do their best at a track event as she was growing orchids at her house on the beach.  Like Clyde, Pat’s voice (usually her laugh) often preceded her physical appearance. 

Pat was part innovator, part cheerleader, part teacher, part student and part parent to both teachers and faculty and the students at her school.  She, too, never met a challenge she did not like, and if there was a way to do something better, smarter and in a way that both challenged and encouraged kids, she was behind it 100% of the way. 

One of my fondest recollections of Pat Donovan was the time she walked through the New Orleans airport wearing a bright orange wig, made out of two-inch thick ribbon.  She charged through that airport wearing her wig and toting two suitcases full of books, training manuals, beads other goodies she had stored up on the trip to share with her teachers.  Close on her heels were the three teachers who attended the trip with her.  I was fortunate to be one of them.  That was the same way she lead teachers at her school.  She led the charge, toting the ideas, the books and materials while her staff followed closely at her heels.

Pat introduced teaching ideas and concepts to Indian River County that no other principal or school had even heard of, and she encouraged her teachers to be creative and innovative.  Pat and her staff implemented programs like Responsive Classroom (a program brought to her attention by my wife), handheld computing (she was known as the “technology queen” of Indian River County), and the FISH philosophy (Be There, Play, Make Their Day, Choose Your Attitude).  With every new idea, Pat’s teachers and staff were right there with her, and she was right there with them.

What distinguished Pat Donovan and Clyde Folsom from other leaders was that they never did anything with the precept of how good – or bad – it might make them look.  Pat walked through the airport with a ridiculous wig on her head not so people would look at her.  She didn’t care what people thought of her.  Her only concern was whether or not what she was doing would ultimately motivate teachers and, in turn, help kids.  Clyde Folsom didn’t cut the grass so that he could get his picture in the newspaper (although Teacher magazine did get a shot of him on his mower for an article); he did it because the grass needed to be cut.

Too many leaders today – principals, administrators, lawmakers and wannabe politicians – are pushers.  They push their ideas on others.  They impose their will on people.  They threaten, belittle and chide, and if anyone gets in their way, look out.  Their only concerns are who is going to see me, how am I going to look, and what can I get out of this?  They are content with the status quo, as long as it keeps them looking good.  They scorn new ideas because they might not produce “the numbers” needed to be viewed as a success.  In short, they are not risk takers because risk portends the potential to fail.  While they might be expert tacticians or masters in their fields, they fail to recognize one simple truth – the horse has a much easier time pulling the wagon than he does pushing it.

When the "product" becomes more important than the "customer"

This past week, teachers were given an overview of the new Teacher Evaluation system.  Without getting into specifics, the new system evaluates teachers using a 50 – 50 formula.  Fifty percent of a teacher’s performance will be based on the same type of “accomplished practices” and teacher performance measurements that have been in place for the past 20 years.  These practices include:  establishing classroom routines, identifying critical information, engaging students in “cognitively complex tasks” and my favorite – demonstrating “with-it-ness”.  What is different about the “new” evaluation, and what has received mention in this blog and in other media outlets, is the other 50 percent - student performance.

To many, this “overhaul” in the teacher evaluation process is both long overdue and a step in the right direction.  My brother, a lawyer and business owner, is one of those.  He posits that teachers, like other professionals, should be evaluated based on “job performance” and since student performance is the most tangible piece of data, it makes sense to use it when evaluating teacher performance. 

It’s a valid argument.  He’s a good lawyer.  His approach, however, is flawed.  While student performance can be influenced by good (or bad) teacher performance, there are so many other “tangible” and intangible factors at play.  Furthermore, the idea that “other professionals” (a phrase that has been bandied about a lot in the media – and cited in this blog) are paid based on the tangible results they produced is even more fundamentally flawed.  Humor me, while I apply the “tangible” results model to other professions.

I will start with the health care field.  More specifically, I’ll apply the tangible results theorem to dentists.  Are dentists paid based on the number of cavities their patients don’t get?  No.  Why not?  Because the amount of time patients spend brushing and flossing is a factor.  The number of times a patient see a dentist is a factor.  More important, the amount of emphasis parents place (and impart on their children) to care for their teeth is a factor.

How about personal trainers, dieticians, or weight loss counselors?  Are they paid based on the amount of weight their clients lose or how much muscle mass they gain?  Of course they aren’t.  Why not?  Because these professionals cannot control whether or not their clients follow the prescribed diets.  They cannot control whether or not their clients workout or exercise at home, and they cannot control the role genetics or body type play in weight gain and retention.

For the sake of time and space (and for dramatic effect), I will cut out some of the verbiage.  Are ministers paid based on the number of souls they save?  Are accountants paid base on the amount of money their clients save?  Are drug counselors and social workers paid based on the number of drug addicts who kick the habit?  The answer in each scenario is a resounding, “NO”!

Even if you examine those professionals who are paid based on client or personal performance, you’ll discover that their pay is based more on quality and value than quantity or actual performance.  Real estate agents aren’t paid on the number of houses they sell but on the value of the houses they sell.  Lawyers aren’t paid based on the number of cases they win (Most are paid regardless of whether or not their clients win their cases.).  Lawyers are paid more when their clients win, and they are paid even more when the case involves a lot of money – quality and value.

If Congress were to enact laws resulting in a “pay for performance” model for all professions, I’d dare say we’d see a sudden and dramatic decrease in both performance and the number of people willing to work these jobs.  How many lawyers would we have if all lawyers had to argue every case brought to them?  How many oncologists would there be if they were paid based on the number of patients whose cancer they cured?  Better yet, how many reality stars-turned-politicians would we have if they were paid based on the following:  shrinking the national debt, having a balanced budget, raising personal income, cutting unemployment, reducing crime and improving our military?

The pay for performance scenarios I’ve presented would seem ludicrous to lawyers, doctors, accountants and real estate agents.  The current system that bases 50% of a teacher’s job performance on one aspect of teaching, and in many cases one test, is equally ludicrous to teachers and administrators.

In the city in which I live, there is a doughnut shop.  I hate going there.  The service is slow, the employees are rude and the store is often out of certain products.  (I once jokingly asked, “Do you have doughnuts today?” after I was told, “We’re out of that” three times).  Despite its poor service and lack of proper management, this store always has a line at the drive-through, and there are customers in the store at all hours of the day.  How is that possible?  The answer is simple:  It’s the only doughnut and bagel place in town. From a financial perspective, it is a success.  From a customer perspective, it’s a complete failure.  We cannot apply the same business model to our schools.  We cannot allow the “product” to become more important than the “customers”. 

Allow me to drive my point home by describing two schools – one that focuses on the customer and the other that focuses (or doesn’t) on the product.

The first school has highly-motivated teachers and staff.  The principal has researched and implemented new, more advanced teaching techniques.  He has applied for grants to bring more technology to his school.  He offers “incentives” to students who have good attendance and who perform well on local assessments.  He brings parents and local businesses together to fundraise, conduct “family nights” and to create a positive, safe and nurturing environment.  At the end of the school year, when state test scores are released, the school earns a C.  Student test scores in math and reading – although dramatically improved from the previous year – did not meet the state and federal achievement levels, especially for its minority students and its lower socio-economic “sub groups” which make up 65% of the student population. 

Our second school has an older, more traditional teaching staff.  Most of the faculty does not attend a teacher workshop unless forced to do so.  The principal is in his last year of DROP and is counting down the days until retirement.  Technology at the school is outdated.  The curriculum used is the same one that the parents of the kids at this school used nearly 20 years ago. At the end of the school year, when state test scores are released, the school earns an A.  Student scores in math and reading – while no better than the previous four or five years – are above the local and state averages.  Since the school is in a predominately white, affluent part of town, the school does not have any “sub groups” and therefore its test scores are based on the performance students from a mid to high socio-economic group or more than 95% of the students.

Which schools’ administrators, faculty and staff worked harder?  Which group of teachers deserves recognition?  Which staff deserves more pay?  Which group of students worked harder or achieved more?  Which group had more learning gains?  Sadly, we will soon find out.

When others think they can do what we do - only better

When others think they can do what we do – only better

I recently sent my blog posts to an editor of our local newspaper.  Here are some of his comments:  “It’s overwritten…tighten up the verbiage…write it less like you talk…less cliches…”

His comments, in my opinion, were accurate and constructive.  He’s right.  I do tend to write like I talk, which at times borders on stream of consciousness.  Not in the James Joyce sense – more like Howie Mandel.  He wrapped up his comments with a nice compliment, “the content is novel” but then – near the end – he did the unimaginable.  He dropped the W-Bomb.  “Some might call parts of it WHINING.”  

Accusing a teacher, or any government employee for that matter, of whining is tantamount to a child telling his mother she’s LAZY because she won’t wash his favorite shirt at 11:00 at night so he can wear to school the next day!  Telling a teacher he/she is whining falls into the modern day category of, “Oh, no you didn’t!”

It was the second time in the past two months that someone used the W-word to describe something I had written.  After thinking about it for a couple of days, it dawned on me why people feel that way about teachers (and other government employees) when they speak out about the fate of their profession.  

In one of my earlier blogs, I made the assertion that the general public had a “love-hate” relationship with teachers, fueled by images and depictions of teachers in movies and the media.  I’ve even speculated that the current economic conditions and the fact that the teaching profession has not been as heavily hit by job cuts might have something to do with the negative perception of teachers, too.  Now I realize neither one of those is the primary factor.  Before the “big reveal” I am going to go all Ryan Secrest and prolong the suspense with a little rhetorical Q&A.  “Let’s dim the lights…”

• When military generals testify in front of members of Congress that troops need more training and newer weapons, are they whining?
• When a police chief asks city council members for more officers to fight crime, are they whining?
• When doctors – working in a free clinic – report that government regulations and tedious paperwork hamper their ability to give patients top medical care, are they whining?

Here’s the rub.  All “civil servants” –  military, police, fire fighters, teachers, city clerks, social workers, etc. – make their living off the tax dollars of “others”.   Government employees are often criticized  because  “others” think they can do what we do – only better – and they accuse us of whining when we speak out.  

 

For the most part, military, police and firefighters get a free pass because these brave men and women risk their lives. Doctors aren’t whiners because they have a skill and level of educational achievement that most will never obtain nor can even fathom.  But teachers, city clerks, and other government workers are viewed differently because most people think they can do what we do – only better.

There is a sign in front of the desk of the clerk who handles the water bill payments in our town.  The sign reads something like:  I understand you may be upset, but if you yell at me, swear at me, pound on my desk or make any type of threat, a sheriff’s deputy will be called. 


People often treat school secretaries, attendance clerks, cafeteria workers and teachers aides who supervise children before and after school with the same anger, frustration and disdain. They don't value the important role these people have in the lives of hundreds of children.  They don't see the love, patience, kindness and understanding displayed toward kids every day, despite what "others" do or say about them. 

Perhaps people treat government employees with such contempt and disrespect because of another unfortunate adjective.  Many view us as civil servants – with an emphasis on the word “servant”.  Our sole purpose is to serve them, and we better serve them when, where and how they want to be served.  After all, their taxes pay my bills. But that is another blog for another time.


If whining is caring about children and their future, then I am a whiner.  If whining is wanting the best tools and resources to teach an increasingly diverse population, then I am a whiner.  If whining is not wanting to have to continue to make do with less and less resources, then I am a whiner.  If whining is informing the general public that teachers and other government employees are feeling the financial pinch, too, then I am a whiner.


Jimmy Buffet once said, "We need more fruit cakes in this world..." people who aren't afraid to stand out in a crowd.  I think we need more whiners in education.

When generals don't understand the battles

When generals don’t understand the battles their own troops are fighting

It is Monday afternoon.  It is forty-five minutes after students have left for the day and twenty-five minutes after my contract hours have ended, and I have just read a “letter of appreciation” from our school district superintendent.  After reading the nine-sentence, four-paragraph “appreciation letter” one resounding thought struck me:  the Head Honcho, the Big Kahuna, the Grand Marshall of the parade, our five-star general – our leader – has about as much “appreciation” as he does “understanding” of what his troops – his teachers in the classroom – are facing every day.

In the nine sentences he wrote to express his appreciation for teachers, who for the last five years have continued to raise the level of achievement among students in our district, our Commander in Chief failed to make ONE specific reference to the efforts teachers make on a daily basis.  Oh, sure, he used phrases like, “it is through your hard work…” and “I commend you for rising up to the task…” but there is not one specific or direct mention of what teachers do.  He did, however, manage to reference the tough economic conditions district personnel are facing not once, not twice, not three times but FOUR times – four times in nine sentences.  In essence, he really isn’t recognizing what teachers have done or accomplished; he is recognizing and appreciating what HE and his staff have accomplished - financially.

In this blog, I have made the statement that teachers don’t do what they do for the money.  Before I go any further, let me make one thing clear.  Teachers – like all professionals – want to make a fair wage.  They want to be recognized – personally and financially – for what they do.  They have mortgages.  They have college tuitions to pay.  They have day care bills, auto loans, and medical bills, too. 

What the “generals”  - both local and state officials – are failing to understand (or maybe just failing to acknowledge) is that teachers – the soldiers on the front line  - are struggling and experiencing low morale, not because of their pay check.  Teaching has become infinitely more difficult over the past three or four years and morale is so low because despite everything that is going on around us financially, we are doing it with less support on a moral and professional level.

In a recent New York Times article, an analogy between teaching and the military was made rather effectively.  In that article, the author made the assertion that when U.S. troops are struggling or facing an increasingly insurmountable foe, we don’t blame the troops.  We look for different ways to support our troops.  More often than not that support comes from letters of support from the home front.  It comes from words of thanks and encouragement from legislators.  It comes in the form of better training, more personnel, more reconnaissance and more cooperation among the factions involved in the fight.

What has happened in education is the exact opposite.  Not only are teachers facing a more vocal, mobile and aggressive foe, at the same time, the support from our leaders, our generals, our legislators has evaporated.  It has been replaced by a condescending, underhanded and adversarial attitude.  Teachers are now seen as the enemy and not the dedicated soldier in need of moral support.

Since our field general is obviously out of touch, I decided to write my own teacher appreciation letter.  Like the commercials that urge Americans to simply say “thank you” to a U.S. soldier, my appreciation letter is going to be a simple list of “thank you’s” to all teachers, staff and administrators:

ü  Thank you for coming to work early and staying late.

ü  Thank you for working nights and weekends.

ü  Thank you for coming to baseball games, track events, car washes, bake sales, school plays, open house and parent conferences

ü  Thank you for tutoring students before school and after school.

ü  Thank you for taking time away from your own families to support other families’ children.

ü  Thank you for being patient with that child who has exhausted the patience of so many other adults in his/her life.

ü  Thank you for taking on one more student, who just could not get along in his last class.

ü  Thank you for engaging in all the mindless state and district “accountability” efforts , like writing standards in your grade/lesson book even though you could probably recite them from memory.

ü  Thank you for re-inventing the wheel each and every year so that you might find a new way to make learning exciting and engaging for a generation of students raised on television and video games.

ü  Thank you for listening to – and not arguing with – irate parents who want to blame you for their child’s failures rather than taking a more critical look at themselves.

ü  Thank you for enduring “workshops” and faculty meetings on such “important” topics like how to comply with even more mindless “mandates”.

ü  Thank you for making your grades and lesson plans public so that parents can review them and/or criticize them when their children either don’t do the assignments or claim, “He never told us about that.”

ü  And thank you for caring about the future of our county, our state and our country in your efforts to teach more than just your subject area, but teaching young people how to be loving, caring and responsible citizens.

Have a great week, and know that you are honored, respected and loved.

When Bad Things Happen to "Bad" People

It’s funny what the human mind can remember and what it chooses to forget.  Why do we tend to remember all the bad – and not so bad – things that happen to us, but we forget many of the fun, exciting or positive events in our lives? I don’t know the answer to this question.  I suspect it’s because when bad things happen to us, we fail to look for the reasons why, and we seek retribution or compensation. 

I truly believe that the general public supports most – if not all – of the cuts to education (and the additional burdens placed on teachers and administrators) because almost everyone has at least one negative school experience – that, for whatever reason, they cannot let go.  Here’s what I mean.  How many times have you heard someone tell a story about a teacher who “hated my guts?”  No? What about a “worst teacher ever” story?  Then there are those people – adults, professionals – who claim that a math teacher “ruined Algebra” for them.  Maybe, lurking in your own cognitive recesses is an English teacher who made the words Romeo and Juliet comparable to "root canal" and "taxes".  When you close your eyes, you can still see that PE teacher who looked the other way while the entire varsity basketball team beamed you with the dodgeball balls while the cheerleaders looked on and laughed. 

Sadly, these “bad” memories stay with us, while the memories of kind, caring and dedicated teachers quickly and easily become distant or forgotten memories.  You think I am wrong?  When was the last time you listened to a story about a band teacher who stayed after school until 6:00 for four weeks to prepare for the Christmas concert (oops, Winter Holiday event)?  Where is the story about the dedicated baseball coach who threw a 100 extra batting practice balls to you, even when his elbow ached (and while his wife waited for him at home, holding off dinner for the fourth time that week)?   How quickly we forget the 5^th grade teacher who bought extra folders, paper, glue and pencils so one of his students would not be embarrassed because their family could not afford them.

Apparently, politicians operate under the same anger-filled and amnesic mindset.  We – teachers – are the bad guys, the whipping boys of a poor economy.  Politicians are looking for a “bully” to punish in these poor economic times.  They want their pound of flesh and don’t care whose hide it comes from. 

You think I am exaggerating? Consider the latest attack on teachers – this time from the district level.   District X (again the names have been changed to protect the innocent and my job) recently decided to “amp it up a notch” and turn teacher against fellow teacher in the latest round of "spending cuts."  Who/what is the target?  Teacher bonuses.  According to District X’s budget negotiation team, unless a handful of teachers give up their “bonuses” the district will be forced to fire x-number of teachers!    

What?  Wait a minute.  Slow down.  Teachers get a bonus?  Well, sort of.  Since the mid 1990’s Florida State Statute has required school districts to reward “top-performing teachers” (based on teacher evaluations and student performance).  Over the years, the E-Comp, STAR and MAP programs have all been legislated (and amended) by the state to give “merit pay” to a small number of teachers.  Under the current system, District X "anticipates" having to award  $1.8 million in “bonus money” to exemplary teachers. While that amounts seems quite large – especially in today’s economic climate – let me put that figure into perspective.  That is the total amount budgeted by the district.  It does not represent total dollars given to teachers.  It does represent all the taxes the district must pay back to the state and federal government (i.e. withholding and FICA taxes).  To the average teacher, this “bonus” amounts to approximately $1,000 after taxes.

A thousand dollars might seem like a lot of money, so let me put that tidy little figure into a “corporate perspective.”  The excerpt below was copied from a recent Wall Street Journal article*:

During the first nine months of 2009, five of the largest banks that received federal aid — Citigroup, Bank of America, Goldman Sachs, JPMorgan Chase and Morgan Stanley — together set aside about $90 billion for compensation. That figure includes salaries, benefits and bonuses, but at several companies, bonuses make up more than half of compensation.

Read that paragraph again.  That’s 90 BILLION DOLLARS from five companies that just recently received “bailout money” from the federal government – taxpayer money from you and me!  According to the article, Goldman Sachs paid its employees “an average of $595,000 EACH” in bonuses.

Here’s the kicker.  The truth of the matter is District X does not even know – yet – how much money it will receive from the state.  It also does not know how many teachers will be eligible for a “bonus”.  And finally, our state legislators – with much pomp and circumstance –recently touted a new bill (soon to be a law) that eliminates teacher tenure and the “traditional salary structure” and replaces it with a plan to – you guessed it – reward “top-performing teachers” (i.e. give them bonuses) who have excellent evaluations and outstanding student performance.  In short, District X must retain this money to be in compliance with the law.

Telling the public (and reporting it in the press) that eliminating teacher bonuses is the only way to save teacher jobs is just another example of the on-going efforts to turn public favor away from teachers and make us the bad guys.  And why not?  As I said before, everyone has at least one negative school and/or teacher experience.  George Bernard Shaw once wrote, “Those who can, do; those who cannot, teach.”  Apparently, Shaw had one or two Dodge Balls kicked his way, or perhaps his math teacher “ruined Algebra” for him.  Based on his prolific writing, I’d say he had one or two teachers who COULD DO and DID.

*http://www.nytimes.com/2010/01/10/business/10pay.html

The Squeaky Wheel Gets The Grease...Sometimes

They say the squeaky wheel gets the grease.  I don’t know if that is true or not, but right now  my “gears” are all rusted up, and I have no reservations when it comes to grinding and scraping these tired, rusted parts in the vain hope that someone will hear me.

Tuesday was the first day of FCAT Science testing, and the fifth day (in the past six school days) my students have been assessed.  They have been great.  Have they been a little anxious?  Yes.  Do they get a little squirrelly right after the test?  Yes.  Have they been focused and serious?  Absolutely.

So, why am I taking up another ten minutes of your day to read over another “squeaky wheel” rant?  Here’s why.  Lately, it seems that no matter what I say or how emphatically I say it,  I cannot  create a strong enough argument (for some people) as to why using test scores – more specifically FCAT test scores – as half – that’s 50 percent - of the formula to determine teacher pay is such a BAD IDEA (Insert grease here).  That is until Tuesday – I think.  Let me give you a little insight into the lives of six of the 22 students in my class who took the FCAT Science test on Tuesday.

Let’s start with Sally.  Sally’s name has been changed to protect her identity (and my job). Sally, like all 5^th grade students, had 55 minutes to complete Session 5 of the Science Sunshine State Standards Test.  Sally was “done” in less than 20 minutes.  State law prohibits me from asking questions or engaging students in any way during the test.  After the test, I spoke to Sally.  I said, “You know, you have 55 minutes to work on the test.  You were done kind of early.  You really should read back over all the questions just to make sure you didn’t make any mistakes.”  Her response was, “I don’t care what I get on it.” (Insert more grease)

Next, there was Caroline.  As the proctor of this assessment, I am required to read the Test Administration Manual, verbatim, each day.  Tuesday was the fifth day of testing, so my students had heard the phrase, “If you draw a line or an X through an answer that you think is wrong and the mark goes into a bubble, that bubble might be counted as your answer” FIVE times prior to taking the test.  Within the first few minutes after the test started, I glanced at Caroline’s test book.  Despite five warnings, five urgings not to do so, she had drawn lines through many of the answers!  Again, I am prohibited from speaking to her or making any comments that might be construed as “helpful”, so I simply walked away.

Then there was Star.  While walking into class Tuesday morning, Star made the following statement, “Mr. Mucci, I was in the emergency room last night.  The doctor said I have gastrointestinitis.”  My initial thought was, “Why are you here then?”  Then, I remembered – it’s FCAT testing.  Students can’t be sick during FCAT testing.  Star took the test.  By lunch time, she was queasy and sick.  She went home.

Let’s not forget Larry.  Monday during recess, Larry fell while playing soccer.  Tuesday morning, Larry showed up at school with a bandage around his arm.  “I sprained my wrist yesterday,” he tells me.  “Does it hurt?” a classmate asks.  “A little,” Larry replies, “but the doctor gave me some pain medicine, so it doesn’t hurt that much now.”  (Big sigh. More grease.  Additional wrinkle lines on my face).  Larry joined Gary, who broke his ankle the week before and has been wearing a boot. Not to mention, two students stayed home on Monday, recovering from cases of strep throat that has swept through our school district.

So what?  What does all this have to do with the price of tea in China (or oil in Saudi Arabia)?  I’m getting to that.  Senate Bill 630, which will soon become law, ties teacher pay to student performance.  In a class of 22 kids, six of my kids were either absent, sick, medicated, did not follow directions or “done” before ½ the time had expired.  Of the remaining 16 (actually 15 because one withdrew from school that day), I have one student who just exited the ESOL program.  I have one student is a “consultative ESE student”, and one of my student has a 504 plan, which provides him additional time to work on assessments because his ADHD is so severe he cannot concentrate long enough to complete the questions in the allotted time.  When all was said and done on Tuesday, I had12 students (out of 21) who had no “mitigating circumstances” that could impact these students’ test results.  (Lots and lots of grease needed here)

Cue dramatic music – perhaps something from Inherit the Wind – as I make my closing arguments.  IF all 12 of the remaining 21 students score on grade level, my success rate would be a whopping 57%!  O.K., O.K. maybe not so dramatic, so for argument sake, let’s add the kid with the broken foot, the ESOL student, the kid on pain medication and the student who crossed out the wrong answers.  That would give me 16 out of 21 students who should have “reliable” test scores.  IF all 16 score a 3.0 or higher (at or above grade level), my success rate would jump to 76% - a C, average, satisfactory – certainly not highly effective or exemplary.  Certainly not something that screams “bonus worthy.”

Last month, Representative Seth McKeel told me “the public deserve accountability” and that “good teachers need to be recognized for the work they do” as two of his reason why he was supporting SB 630.  I could not argue with either point.  I can argue, however, that ONE test – an assessment designed to “guide instruction” – is NOT the appropriate tool to gauge a teacher’s job performance.

Squeak, squeak, squeak, squeak.  I will continue to squeak, speak, type, complain and rant in the hopes that enough people – or the right person – will hear my pleas and/or get the message.  A colleague of mine likes to use the expression, “There is more than one way to skin a cat.  The only thing that matters in the end is that you get a naked cat.”  There is more than one way to assess student achievement.  Shouldn’t there be more than one way to measure the effectiveness of a teacher?