Our world has changed (Part I)

Every now and then, just to lighten things up a bit, I will share personal stories or little bits and pieces of information that prove one thing.  Thomas Friedman was right. Our world has changed.

I'll start with this.

My six year old son has discovered YouTube.

I repeat.

My SIX year old son has discovered YouTube.

And what little gems did we unearth?

How about this.

The official White House Barack Obama Inauguration video (stuff I like to watch): One million, two hundred forty seven thousand, four hundred and sixty eight (1,247,468) views.

Alvin and the Chipmunks sing Crank That Soulja Boy (stuff HE likes to watch): SIX MILLION, TWO HUNDRED THIRTY SIX THOUSAND, NINE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY ONE (6,236,971) views.

I'm not making this up.

Folks, our world has changed. 









The power is yours--seize it

Drums keep pounding rhythm to the brain

La-dee-la-dee-dee

La-dee-la-dee-da

Wait till you have reached the age,

History has turned the page,

We still want to hear a brand new thing,

We still need a song to sing,

 And the beat goes on.....

And the beat goes on.....

And the beat goes on.....

And the beat goes on.....

And the beat goes on.....

And the beat goes on.....

(Sonny Bono, “The Beat Goes On”)

 

Yes it does.

The debate rages on, hot and heavy, about the relative merits of NCLB and national standards. And so it should; these are important issues that merit careful consideration and conscientious, well-informed debate. For what it's worth, I think the idea of national standards has merit (after all, 2+2=4 whether you're in Georgia or California) and I think that all schools should be held to a measure of accountability. But this post isn't about that. We'll save that particular debate for another day.

This post is about power.  

It's about what we do (or don't do) to arm ourselves with information and place ourselves in a position to make well-informed decisions about what is, and what is not, in the best interests of our schools and our children.  

It's about not allowing ourselves to be swayed by hype and hyperbole. 

It's about knowing.  

Because knowledge, as they say, is power. 

**********************

Have you heard it?

There has been a great deal of talk of late about improved NAEP test scores, particularly among African-American and at-risk students, as "proof" that our current efforts at reform are working.  Words like "unprecedented, " "historic highs" and "steady progress" have been bandied about in official press releases and in print media with such regularity that it would be easy to assume, given these glowing and optimistic reviews, that we have turned a corner and that we're finally making meaningful and substantive progress in public education. I don’t think anyone expects perfection from our schools.  But we do want to know, or perhaps it might be more accurate to say that we need to believe, that we’re moving forward.

But faith is not enough.  Faith must be supported by facts, so rather than rely on an executive summary or someone else’s characterization of these scores, I decided to go to the best available source when I needed the most up-to-date data on the current state of student achievement.

I went straight to the New York Times.

Nah…

I went to the official Nation's Report Card.  This is raw data, straight from the Department of Education, breaking down NAEP results in a surprisingly clear, concise and readable fashion. No hyperbole.  No characterization.

Just the facts.

And I couldn't believe what I read. 

*******************

First of all, let's talk about the word progress.  It means, generally speaking, to move forward in some way.  But when you carefully examine NAEP data, what will you see?

You’ll see:

  • A two point increase in the average 4th grade reading score from 219 in 2005 to 221 in 2007.  But this is progress, right?  Not really. Because the average score in 2002 was 219. The biggest spike in reading scores actually occurred between 2000 and 2002, when the scores went up by six points. But that was before NCLB was enacted into law.       
  • Eight grade reading scores were up by only one point, from 262 in 2005 to 263 in 2007.  But here’s the rub. The average score was 263 in 1998.  That means in spite of spending hundreds of billions of dollars on reforms targeted at improved literacy, we show no statistical improvement over the course of the past decade.  This data also shows that the gains our students make in the 4th grade are lost by the time our students reach the 8th grade.
  • Fourth grade mathematics scores show steady progress from 1990 (average score 213) to 2007 (average score 240).  But, again, there’s an issue. The biggest gains occurred before NCLB, when scores rose from 213 in 1990 to 235 in 2003.
  • The same is true of eight grade mathematics.  Scores were up by two points, from 279 in 2005 to 281 in 2007. However, once again, the pre-NCLB gains were larger, when scores increased from 263 in 1990 to 278 in 2003.

But here’s the real story. None of these improvements persist through to the end of high school. NAEP long-term test results show that since 1990, the scores of 17-year-olds have stagnated in math and fallen in reading.

So is this progress? 

Decide for yourself.  But here’s one more statistic.  And this is the one that pushed me over the edge.

Over and over and over again, we hear about how our African-American children are doing better.  That’s wonderful if true.  But is it?

Here’s one stat.  The Nation’s Report Card webpage documenting average 4th grade reading scores starts with the headline: “White, Black, Hispanic, and Asian/Pacific Islander fourth-graders scored higher in 2007 than in 1992.”  Okay, fair enough. Read further. In 2007, the average 4th grade reading score for African Americans was 203.  This is the “historic high.”

But then download the full report card.  Go to page 21, where you’ll find the 4th grade reading scale. Then note where an average score of 203 places you.

An average score of 203 is below basic!

I was so dumbfounded, so utterly flabbergasted by this, I asked my mother, a retired teacher, to look at the report.  She saw the same thing, shook her head and whispered “My God.”

Then I got angry.  Really, really angry.  (And I will try, gentle reader, not to have this blog devolve into an expletive-laced tirade).  A 203 is NOT progress.  It’s pathetic.  It’s appalling.  This is AMERICA not Guam! I don’t care who you are or where you’re from, 4th grade students in THIS country should NOT have an AVERAGE reading score of below basic. Ever.  And then to have the temerity, the unmitigated GALL, to characterize this as progress, insults even the most basic notions of reason or intelligence.

(See, no expletives.  I’m proud of myself).

Imagine this.  Imagine if a teacher said to you of your child, “We are sooooo very proud of your child.  S/he’s made soooooo much progress.  S/he’s now IMPROVED to below basic.  You must be very proud.  We are.” 

What would you do?

I’ll tell you what I would do.

X-Box…..gone.

Cable television……out.

Television……off.

iPod…….forget about it.

Air Jordan’s……don’t even look.

Jeans....from Sears.

Play time…..limited.

Bed time……8 o’clock EVERY night.

Homework…..constantly, all the time, every day until you leave my house, get a job or win the lottery.

Fuzzy wuzzy, feel good tolerance of woeful academic performance…not in my house.  Not ever.

Folks,  when I see scores like this, I’m reminded of a scene from the movie Armageddon where the Bruce Willis character is informed that the only way to save the world is to send his team of deep sea drillers into outer space to drill a hole in an asteroid and drop a nuclear bomb in the hole.  The Willis character looks at the NASA rep (played with surprising restraint by Billy Bob Thornton) and says (as only Bruce Willis can), “You’ve got to be kidding.  That’s the best you can do.  You’re NASA. You’re geniuses.  And this best you can do?  Oh God….”

That’s what I think about education.  Public education is full of, well…educators.  You guys are really, really smart.  You have PhD’s.  You write textbooks.  You study the human brain.  You passed statistics.  You get billions and billions of dollars and year, and this is the best we can do?

It is at this point that I can almost understand (almost….) some republican concerns about increased education spending. Trillions of dollars and this is our return?  A generation of functionally illiterate kids who are hopelessly ill equipped and ill-prepared to compete and succeed in the world as it exists now? This is what you give me?  And then you have the nerve to look me in the face and characterize THIS as progress?

Oh man……

So one of three things is true.  We either:

  • cannot fix public education because the problems are too deep, too entrenched, for systemic change, and no one has the gumption, the courage, to say so; 
  • can fix public education but don’t know how and no one has the gumption, the courage, to say so; or
  • can fix public education, and we know how to do it, we just don’t choose to do it.  And why should we? Public school is for poor kids anyway.  As long as our talented tenth is thriving, we still need someone to bag our groceries and to sell us Jimmy Choo shoes.  So pumping out ill-informed, uneducated worker bees into our economy suits us just fine. (Of course, we can never, ever say that…that would be positively un-American).

Whatever the cause, the effect is the same. There’s not enough work for the worker bees anymore. And with about 50 million illiterate Americans and climbing, who do you think is going to pay for all these unemployed and underemployed worker bees? Look at your paycheck.  See all those Federal, state and local deductions?  That’s right.  YOU will.  YOU will end up paying for our failure to educate our children.  Or more likely, our children will end up paying this debt.  A debt they didn’t create and don’t deserve.

Didn’t like the bailouts?  Stimulus package tick you off?  Well, if we keep this up, if we don’t fix our schools, if we keep characterizing average scores of below basic as “historic highs,” if we don’t start calling it like it is, then the looming crisis, both human and economic, will make our current economic travails look like a hiccup by comparison. 

Believe me, I am, by nature, an optimist.  I do not ascribe to the politics of fear and polarization.  But this is real folks.  It’s real and it’s happening right now. 

But please, please, please, don’t take my word for it. Don’t blindly accept my characterization.  That’s the point of this post.  Agree with me, disagree with me, tell me I’m full of it, it’s cool—but check it out for yourselves.  Arm yourselves.  Inform yourselves.

Then decide.

There are many forms of power; most unattainable to the common citizen.  But some forms of power are yours and can never be taken away should you choose to exercise that power.  One is the power of the mind.  It’s yours.  Use it.  The other is the power of information.  One of the great benefits of living in the Digital Age is that information is readily available.  There is simply no excuse for not knowing.

So take it. 

Power. 

It doesn’t belong to Obama, or Duncan or your elected officials.

It’s yours.

Seize it.

The power to think, the power to decide, the power to act and the power to shape our individual and collective future.

 

Why do we have summer vacation?




Oh boy.....

I'm venturing into very dangerous, very sensitive territory here, so please allow me to qualify a few things at the outset.

First, as anyone who follows this blog knows, my mother was a school teacher for over 20 years. So I truly appreciate how hard teachers work and the mental and physical demands of the job. I get that. I really do. Teachers, I'm on your side.

Second, as a parent, I also understand the importance of family time; of the need for a contiguous, uninterrupted block of time to play together, vacation together or just be together.

That said, I'll throw this out there.

Why do we have summer vacation?

This question occurred to me as I read the increasing number of plurks and tweets from educators eagerly awaiting the end of the school year. I understand that. I felt the same way when I was a student (14 more days to go, 13 more days to go...), and would undoubtedly feel the same way if I were a teacher. But as the parent of a school age child, and as someone who has only worked in the private sector, I find myself increasingly confused by the uniquely American phenomenon of taking nearly 2 months off from school. I addition to being out of sync with virtually every other facet of our society, I'm beginning to think that this practice has disastrous implications for the cognitive development of our children.

I'll elaborate.

Being a lawyer just sucks. Really. You work all of the time. Even if you're one of those large law firm lawyers billing $500 an hour and making a kings ransom in salary (which is the benefit), the attendant cost is that you work constantly and you have to be reminded about your children's birthdays. I know there have been entire years where I did not take a week off. There was a three year stretch where I did not take a vacation at all. I have never taken two consecutive weeks off. If I took a month off, I may as well stay wherever I landed because I'd become irrelevant or get fired.

Here's a bit of insight from behind the veil. I don't care what employers say, they don't like it when employees take vacations. They really don't. I've huddled up with enough business owners when vacation requests come in to know that they might give you the Cheshire cat grin and say: "Have a really nice vacation (toothy grin on cue)." But what they're thinking is: "I ought to fire you, you thankless sack of [expletive deleted] because while you're busy hanging out at Disneyland with the wife and kids, I'll be here running the business that allows you to pay your damn mortgage. Yeah, have fun and pray to God that I don't come across someone while you're busy getting a tan that I think is better suited to do your job."

Two months off just doesn't work in real life. Not for anything. Until Congress made it illegal, women were getting fired for getting pregnant and having babies! (An extreme and awful practice by the way). My point is this, business is not seasonal. Life is not seasonal. The "real world" for which we are preparing our kids is not seasonal.

Three words for everyone. "Employee at will." Look it up.

Point #2.

If our kids aren't in school, especially Pre-K through 8th grade children, what the hell else do they have to do? Work for the board of trade? Really, what are they going to do? Watch video games? That's healthy. Play sports? They could do that and still be in school. Go on vacation with the family? Great. Take two weeks. Now what?

Right now, parents from sea to shinning sea are scrambling to figure out what they're going to do with their little bundles of joy when that final school bell rings. I know I am. And that's all fine and good for parents with means and options; they can send their kids to camps or summer programs. But what about the millions of parents who are struggling just to keep the lights and gas on? Who can't pay their mortgage or their rent? Free summer school is an answer for some; especially in Title I schools, but this is not a systemic solution available to everyone.

All that takes a back seat to the biggest problem.

The BIGGEST problem, in my humble opinion, is that kids get REAL dumb REAL fast during the summer. It's amazing how much of the stuff we just spent the last 10 months cramming into their still developing brains gets lost. After Christmas break, my son seemed to forget how to write his name. (So now time away from school does not mean time off from school--much to my son's disdain and vocal displeasure). We take this time off, kids get a great tan and then spend the first month or so of the next school year playing "let's catch up" instead of "let's push forward." The more I think about it, the more I think this whole summer vacation thing just doesn't make sense.

Yes, there should be some time off. Some sort of summer sabbatical. According to my friend and colleague Kelly Tenkely, the schools in her county take a three week summer break and three additional three week breaks throughout the school year. This seems to make more sense to me. Kids, take your three week break and then, to use my mama's words, "get your rusty butt back in school." Now we could (and probably should) change things up a bit in the summer. We could have a shorter school day. We could change the hours so we're not getting our kids up before the crack of dawn. (Who's BRILLIANT idea was THAT anyway?) We could allow the children more free time or the ability to craft individualized lesson plans. Perhaps we could also use this time to focus on subjects that get the short shrift during the standardized test driven school year such as art, music, and yes, sports and physical exercise. We could have school camps where the kids are learning, having fun and developing a stronger sense of community. This time could be used for meaningful, more deliberate professional development rather than those awful (and generally ineffective) in service days during the school year that many teachers seem to hate.

And finally, but most importantly, perhaps this could be a time where teachers are encouraged to experiment with innovative instructional practices, such as the use and integration of technology, because they’re not consumed and driven by standardized test prep. There's a whole lot we could do during the summer that’s different if we're creative and willing to think outside of the box. It doesn’t have to be more of the same.

So what do you think? Is a summer vacation a needed and necessary respite? Or does putting the brakes on learning and saying, "we'll see you in two months" do more harm than good? Is this really right for our times; especially in high-poverty communities with a large number of at-risk students where the school might be the only stabilizing factor in their lives? Sure, this time off made sense when most of our students spent the summer harvesting crops or helping out on the farm. But if I may, this is 2009, not 1909. If you were to poll most kids in inner-city public schools today, I suspect very few of them spent their summer shucking corn.

So is “summer vacation,” like so many other traditions in our schools, something that we should take a long look at and ask ourselves, “Is this really in our student’s best interests?"

I'm open here. I'm not dogmatic about this and I'm not necessarily trying to make a case. So by all means, let me know what you think. Am I off? Are there alternatives? I'd like to know. Because I don’t need to be right. But I would like to arrive, logically and dispassionately, at the right answer. Because a lot of what we’re doing right now just isn't working.

Kids first, remember? It's a motto I see prominently displayed in most schools.

So what do we do?

13, 12, 11….the final school bell is about to ring.

What should we be doing when that final bell rings to truly put our kids first?






Yes I can......(Happy Mothers Day)



A flower is a beautiful thing.

It is fragile; easily damaged. It must be watered and nurtured. It needs good soil. It requires the warmth of he sun.

But when all of these things work together, water, earth, sun and a kind and gentle hand, a simple seed can grow and bloom into something more; something extraordinary, something.......beautiful.

And so it goes with a life.

All life.

*******************

I was a geeky, skinny little kid. My teeth were too big for my face, I wore coke bottle glasses, my hair was like steel wool, utterly impervious to combs, and unlike my brother, who was born cute, I was, well, pretty darn funny looking. I cannot count the number of times that girls in my grammar school class would say to me, "Your brother is fine. What happened to you?" Kids can be cruel in that way. It did not help that I was one of those really "smart" kids that could NOT be cool even when I tried (and I did try), I could not dance (that stereotype about all black folks having rhythm....nope, not true), and unlike my brother, who could bring it, I lacked a whit of athletic ability.

I wanted to be Michael Jackson.

Instead, I was Tito.

No worse.

I was Marlon.

But I loved to write. Writing was my escape, my refuge. Writing is what I did well.

And virtually everything I wrote, I shared with my mother. No matter how busy she was, no matter how exhausted from the physical and emotional demands of waking before the crack of dawn to teach school all day and then raise two rambunctious boys at night, she received everything I wrote with genuine enthusiasm. She carefully and conscientiously read whatever I presented, whether it was a comic book, a short story, a poem or a play, and after wading through the misspelled words and my barely legible cursive handwriting, she would look up, smile, and often say, "This is really good honey."

I knew some things were better than others. Everything I wrote couldn't be the next great American novel. But that's not how my mother made me feel. Everything was special. She made me feel special. Powerful. She made sure that I understood that what you do, what you think, what you take the time to create, means something. It's a gift. It matters.

You matter.

*******************

I will never forget one particular incident. I wrote a poem for a homework assignment. I think I was in 4th or 5th grade. My mother loved the poem. I turned it in, got a B. I was a bit disappointed, I thought the poem was better than that, but what can you do? But my mother was having none of that. She was enraged. And you have to understand something about my mother. She doesn't do enraged. Annoyed? Yes. But not enraged. My mother is the ultimate moderate; even tempered, solid, steady.

But not this day. This day, she was not pleased. She thought I got jobbed.

So without telling me, she took my poem, sent it into a magazine and they published it along with my picture. At the next parent teacher meeting, my mother hard charged in, magazine with published poem in tow, and presented it to the teacher.

How's THAT for your B?

To this day, we laugh about that.

God bless mothers.

Mother, may God bless you.

*******************

Everything I am, I do or become; all I create, all I impact, however small, I lay at your feet. There would be no blog, no JD, no me, without you. The words would not flow so freely if not for you.

If not for you, I would not have the courage to gaze into the great unknown, into the future, and think silently, but confidently...

Yes I can.

So thanks Mom.

Your lima beans, which you would make by the vat, were simply horrendous; beyond description. To this day, I will not eat a lima bean. Ever. I will not make my children eat lima beans. Ever.

But lima beans notwithstanding, you were my wind, my blessing.

You rock.

Happy Mothers Day to you and to mothers everywhere.