The Education Gadfly Weekly

Gary Barnes, Edward Crowe, Benjamin Schaefer
National Commission on Teaching and America's Future
2007

This study quantifies the costs of teacher attrition in five districts, and it finds that schools are losing a lot of money every time a teacher leaves them--recruiting, hiring, and training new teachers is expensive. In the small, rural district of Jemez Valley, New Mexico, each "teacher leaver" costs $4,366; in Chicago, each costs $17,872. And in urban districts (this study looked at two: Chicago and Milwaukee), "low school performance and high poverty were correlated with high teacher turnover." NCTAF has also created a "Teacher Turnover Cost Calculator" so that other school districts can determine just how much money they're losing whenever a teacher walks out the door. But is the teacher attrition rate really so unusual in a rapidly-evolving job market, in which employees (especially talented 20-somethings) job-hop every two or three years? Maybe not (see here). Regardless, the report's recommendations for combating teacher attrition won't work. NCTAF recommends, for example, investing in new teacher support and development, and that districts upgrade their data systems to make clearer the costs of turnover. To channel the Clinton folks, can I be quoted yawning? Districts that want to hang on to their good teachers (and attract new ones) could start by bucking the unions, embracing common sense, and instituting some form of merit pay. It might also help if schools didn't pay chemistry instructors the same salary as they do gym teachers. And then there's the possibility that teacher attrition is just a cost of doing business. One can make a pretty persuasive case that school districts could actually use a lot fewer teachers, anyway. You can find the report here.

Bill Tucker
Education Sector
June 2007

This report makes some persuasive points on behalf of virtual high schools (defined as online programs that supplement traditional schooling options, which currently enroll lots more students than full-time "cyber schools"). According to Tucker, virtual schools offer at least three major benefits. First, they personalize student learning. At the nation's second-largest state-run program, Florida Virtual School (FLVS), for instance, students "can choose a traditional, extended, or accelerated pace for a particular course." A second benefit is that they attract nontraditional teachers. Instructors at the Georgia Virtual School are almost exclusively part-timers. They're "stay-at-home moms, dads, or retirees" who find the flexibility of teaching online more manageable than a traditional teaching career. Moreover, because the virtual classroom is "more transparent" than a traditional classroom, administrators can better monitor its instructors. FLVS has a custom-built student data system that is reviewed frequently by school leaders to monitor teacher performance. (Such systems are still a pipe dream for administrators in many traditional school districts.) Finally, virtual schools encourage performance-based funding models. Again, Florida is a model. At FLVS, "funding is based on students' successful completion of their courses," and "a student's full-time school may not deny access to courses offered by FLVS." This puts a great deal of pressure on FLVS to produce results--a degree of pressure that few traditional schools experience. Tucker still thinks there is room for greater transparency in, and wider access to, virtual schools, but he strongly believes in their power to transform education. Read more here.

EdSource
June 2007

EdSource's third evaluation of California charter schools largely affirms conclusions from its 2005 and 2006 studies (e.g. strong performance of middle schools, faster academic growth of classroom-based charters over virtual ones). But the distinguishing characteristic of the new analysis is the researchers' use of statistical regressions to delve deeper into observable trends. The report tackles charter school performance on two fronts: comparing charter and non-charter schools and analyzing differences in academic performance among types of charter schools (conversion, virtual, managed, etc.). All the usual data suspects are examined, including the state's Academic Performance Index, NCLB's Adequate Yearly Progress, and California's School Characteristics Index (SCI) (which scores schools based on composite information about English learner status, parental education, and student demographics). Yet, despite the wealth of data, results are mixed. Neither charter elementary nor high schools demonstrate big achievement differences from their non-charter peers, whereas charter middle schools outperform non-charter middle schools by a statistically significant and durable margin. Further, schools overseen by a management organization outperform those run independently. While not earth-shattering, this study is a solid addition to charter school research. See for yourself here.

Is it some new form of abstinence education? Or does the principal of Kilmer Middle School have a Howard Hughes-like aversion to touch? No one knows for sure, because no one can get close enough to Deborah Hernandez to find out why she won't permit physical contact of any kind on school grounds. (Even her school mug shot looks to have been taken at 20 paces.) Give your girlfriend a hug? No, no. High-five your buddy? Uh-uh. Brush up against someone in the hall between classes? Don't even think about it. Her rule, she tells a Washington Post reporter (by phone or email, we presume), is meant to preserve personal space. Kids, Hernandez argues, don't know what's too far. "You get into shades of gray," she says. They'll complain, "If he can high-five, then I can do this." Ah yes, the old slippery slope argument. Still, there's one upside to Hernandez's extreme keep-your-hands-to-yourself approach. Monitoring school dances is a breeze.

"Va. School's No-Contact Rule Is a Touchy Subject," by Maria Glod, Washington Post, June 18, 2007

Can states fund religious charter schools without stepping all over the Constitution's anti-establishment clause? We think it's possible. And in the current issue of Education Week, Lawrence Weinberg and Bruce Cooper show how it's happening near Minneapolis. But is the Tarek ibn Ziyad Academy altogether a good thing? Is it a harbinger of things to come? The authors certainly think so, crediting the high-performing school with walking "the fine line between serving a public purpose (educating children in a sensitive, culturally specific, values-oriented program) and being an Islamic religious school." "Its mission," the authors continue, "is clear and values-oriented, but not related solely to religion." (Gadfly knows that some will worry about balkanization of our "civic culture," but we're for choice, and not just the choices we like.) Fair enough, but don't expect a boomlet of religious charters. Selling people on public dollars for religious schools won't be easy. Lawsuits will surely be brought. But if such schools think through their missions carefully (and follow Weinberg and Cooper's good advice, such as creating a secular foundation to manage the schools' finances), we might just see miracles happen. 

 "What About Religious Charter Schools?" by Lawrence D. Weinberg and Bruce S. Cooper, Education Week, June 18, 2007

The United States isn't the only land where primary-secondary schooling was traditionally the responsibility of the states or provinces, while the national government played a minor, even peripheral role. Nor are we the only people now struggling to adapt that old decentralized arrangement to the realities of the 21st century, with its globalizing economy, rising mobility, instant communications, and ebbing affection for local idiosyncrasy--and agonizing over what mechanisms might best yield a measure of high-standard uniformity and accountability without shackling schools and educators to a deadening, politically vulnerable, bureaucratic sameness.

That something needs to change is clearer every day, as we observe the peculiar risks and odd incentives of a policy regimen in which states set their own standards and tests--and pay for the lion's share of education costs--even as they are held to account by Washington for their performance and told what to do with poorly performing schools. Yet we have neither the structures nor the trust to turn standards-setting over to Uncle Sam and little appetite for centralizing actual school operations.

Seeking a bit of perspective on such dilemmas, I recently spent a week talking with government officials, policy wonks, and educators in Australia. Its eight states and territories run the public schools, hire their teachers, and generally manage the delivery of primary-secondary education--averaging some 400,000 pupils each. With no "local" school systems, state bureaucracies and the elected state-level officials that oversee them have historically occupied the driver's seat, while the "commonwealth" government has no constitutional mandate in the K-12 realm and generally relies for influence on the strings it can tie to the less than 10 percent of the education budget that it contributes.

By chance, my visit coincided with "budget week," when Prime Minister John Howard's conservative "Coalition" government unveiled its latest policy plans, and challenger Kevin Rudd's Labor Party responded with its own proposals. It's election season in Oz and, after 11 years in opposition, the Rudd team is hungry to convince voters that it offers a better future. Early polling indicates that it stands a fair chance of prevailing, due in no small part to simple weariness with the incumbents.

Yet the country is thriving on Howard's watch. Its booming economy and aggressive tax structure have yielded a whopping budget surplus (and zero national debt), so the budget game includes handing out new billions in ways calculated to woo key interest groups and segments of the electorate. In K-12 education, for example, the government offered money for teacher merit pay and mini-vouchers for students needing remediation (akin to the No Child Left Behind Act's "supplemental educational services"), while Labor proposed nifty new technical-vocational programs (and facilities) in high schools. Both sides say an education revolution is needed, and each has lately behaved in semi-revolutionary fashion, with the Coalition ignoring conservative dogma and reaching over the states directly to schools, teachers, and families, while Labor embraces some policies that make the teachers' unions queasy--notably its willingness to continue Australia's practice of aiding private and religious schools.

On one key issue, however, the parties are converging: Both now favor some sort of national academic standards, tests, and curriculum. (See here.) Exactly how and by whom this will be operationalized is not yet clear. As in America, nobody wants the federal education department to take direct charge of such sensitive matters.

What's the point, one wonders, of a national curriculum if nobody knows which schools are teaching it effectively? State education officials are proud of their track record and jealous of their autonomy. Still, they've been edging toward a more unified approach for nearly two decades, dating to 1989, as the "Charlottesville summit" was launching the United States in this direction. In that year's "Hobart Declaration," which included "Common and Agreed National Goals for Schooling," Australia's state and national education ministers cautiously agreed to work together. Ten years later, the "Adelaide Declaration" committed them to devise a "national framework" for schooling. Two months ago, in "Federalist Paper 2," the states and territories pledged jointly to develop national standards, beginning with English, math, and science, that could undergird a "national testing and measurement program," then move on to a "national curriculum." They invited the federal government to work with them on this ambitious undertaking.

In February, meanwhile, the Labor Party came out for a "national curriculum," beginning with math, science, English, and history, that would be "a clear and explicit agreement about the essentials all young Australians should know and what they should be able to do." Its manifesto suggested that a new "national curriculum board" take charge of this.

While I was there in May, the Howard government proposed an "initiative" to "develop nationally consistent standards in key subject areas" at the secondary level (10 courses were named)--and to make future federal school aid contingent on the states' meeting those standards, starting in 2009, as well as requiring them "to include a component of rigorous external assessment" of student performance in the final year of high school.

Both parties recognize that today's education standards are uneven, that too many young Australians are being left behind, and that the demands of modern society argue for kids in Sydney, Perth, and Darwin to acquire similar skills and knowledge.

Adding complexity and savor to the political stew, every state government is currently in Labor hands, while Howard's Coalition rules in Canberra, whence flows most of Australia's private school aid. The private (and religious) sector now educates more than one-third of all youngsters--in some locales, at the high school level, it enrolls half of them--and accounts for all the growth in Australian K-12 pupil rolls over the past three decades. The Commonwealth subsidizes those schools, sometimes supplemented by the states. Amounts vary--a crude version of "weighted student funding" seeks to provide more for schools in low-income communities--and schools are free to charge tuition to "top up" what the government gives them. Melbourne's Catholic schools, for example, receive from Canberra an average of 56 percent of the per-pupil funding of local public schools, and get another 16 percent from the state of Victoria. They supplement this with (relatively low) tuitions, some private philanthropy, and help from the church.

In return for government aid, Australian private schools employ state-licensed teachers and teach the core state curriculum--whether sensible or loopy--though they can augment it with religious education and other subjects. If and when a national curriculum comes about, the private schools will doubtless teach and test their pupils accordingly. Nobody I met seemed to find this too heavy a price to pay for public dollars. Besides being fiscally viable and popular with parents, the private sector is generally invited inside the tents where policy issues that affect it, such as curriculum, testing, and teacher qualifications, get hashed out.

Though impressed by how much progress has been made Down Under on the school choice front, I was jarred by how little information is available on school performance. The education establishment has drawn a line at making comparisons among schools--or states--and Australia generally keeps its school-level results hidden from parents, journalists, and politicians to a degree that seems antediluvian and faintly undemocratic to an American. What's the point, one wonders, of a national curriculum if nobody knows which schools are teaching it effectively?

Today, despite two decades of discussing, convening, and proposing, Australia remains a considerable distance from such a curriculum and, like us, is riven by disagreement as to what exactly should be taught--and who ought to decide. The Pacific Ocean is no barrier to "culture wars" or progressivism-run-amuck. Indeed, I had time-warp (in addition to jet-lag) moments when I heard people arguing over "outcomes-based" education.

The Labor Party hasn't said much about actual curricular content, though its position paper thoughtfully discusses the need to blend skills and knowledge. On the other hand, the new board to which it would entrust this responsibility is to consist of "educational experts" and state (and private school) representatives, and could easily be dominated by the postmodern tendencies of fashionable academics and several extant state curricula.

Prime Minister Howard, by contrast, terms himself an "avowed education traditionalist" who believes that "English lessons should teach grammar. ... [H]istory is History, not Society and the Environment or Time, Continuity, and Change. ... [G]eography is Geography, not Place and Space." He has also made clear that he favors high-stakes external exams of the very kind that Australia's main teachers' union decries--and would push hard on a Labor government to forswear.

Working through this won't be any easier for Australia than for the United States. Though the over-40 generation is generally well-educated in a traditional sort of way, I met my share of charming featherheads among those under 30. Like America, Oz could do with a curricular makeover, higher standards, and universal accountability. But as on our own shores, some of its more perceptive education critics worry that any centralized standards will end up being drafted by the very experts whose handiwork caused the problems that national standards and curricula are meant to help solve.

This article first appeared in the June 20th issue of Education Week.

The relationship between Philadelphia's former superintendent, Paul Vallas, and the district's School Reform Commission (SRC) survived a bit of a rough patch about this time last year. So it's no surprise that as Vallas prepares to head south to run the schools in New Orleans, some folks are giving him a less-than-fond sendoff. Critics are pointing to the district's "surprise" $73 million budget shortfall, which surfaced in the fall, as a severe blot on his record. Vallas said he regretted being "too passive" on budget issues, but most observers seem to agree that the SRC, the city, and the state share responsibility for the oversight. For his part, Vallas claims that the SRC gradually took away the flexibility that had once allowed him to implement fundamental and innovative changes. "It begins to come apart piece by piece, and it begins with micromanagement," he said. "By year five, you're chopped liver." Strong executives usually clash with their boards, especially when things go wrong. And, as in Philadelphia, blame is often parceled out by both sides. Let's hope things work out a little better for Vallas in the Big Easy. That city's schools may not have time to endure any bickering.

"Vallas in with roar, out with rancor," by Susan Snyder, Philadelphia Inquirer, June 17, 2007

Bill Tucker
Education Sector
June 2007

This report makes some persuasive points on behalf of virtual high schools (defined as online programs that supplement traditional schooling options, which currently enroll lots more students than full-time "cyber schools"). According to Tucker, virtual schools offer at least three major benefits. First, they personalize student learning. At the nation's second-largest state-run program, Florida Virtual School (FLVS), for instance, students "can choose a traditional, extended, or accelerated pace for a particular course." A second benefit is that they attract nontraditional teachers. Instructors at the Georgia Virtual School are almost exclusively part-timers. They're "stay-at-home moms, dads, or retirees" who find the flexibility of teaching online more manageable than a traditional teaching career. Moreover, because the virtual classroom is "more transparent" than a traditional classroom, administrators can better monitor its instructors. FLVS has a custom-built student data system that is reviewed frequently by school leaders to monitor teacher performance. (Such systems are still a pipe dream for administrators in many traditional school districts.) Finally, virtual schools encourage performance-based funding models. Again, Florida is a model. At FLVS, "funding is based on students' successful completion of their courses," and "a student's full-time school may not deny access to courses offered by FLVS." This puts a great deal of pressure on FLVS to produce results--a degree of pressure that few traditional schools experience. Tucker still thinks there is room for greater transparency in, and wider access to, virtual schools, but he strongly believes in their power to transform education. Read more here.

EdSource
June 2007

EdSource's third evaluation of California charter schools largely affirms conclusions from its 2005 and 2006 studies (e.g. strong performance of middle schools, faster academic growth of classroom-based charters over virtual ones). But the distinguishing characteristic of the new analysis is the researchers' use of statistical regressions to delve deeper into observable trends. The report tackles charter school performance on two fronts: comparing charter and non-charter schools and analyzing differences in academic performance among types of charter schools (conversion, virtual, managed, etc.). All the usual data suspects are examined, including the state's Academic Performance Index, NCLB's Adequate Yearly Progress, and California's School Characteristics Index (SCI) (which scores schools based on composite information about English learner status, parental education, and student demographics). Yet, despite the wealth of data, results are mixed. Neither charter elementary nor high schools demonstrate big achievement differences from their non-charter peers, whereas charter middle schools outperform non-charter middle schools by a statistically significant and durable margin. Further, schools overseen by a management organization outperform those run independently. While not earth-shattering, this study is a solid addition to charter school research. See for yourself here.

Gary Barnes, Edward Crowe, Benjamin Schaefer
National Commission on Teaching and America's Future
2007

This study quantifies the costs of teacher attrition in five districts, and it finds that schools are losing a lot of money every time a teacher leaves them--recruiting, hiring, and training new teachers is expensive. In the small, rural district of Jemez Valley, New Mexico, each "teacher leaver" costs $4,366; in Chicago, each costs $17,872. And in urban districts (this study looked at two: Chicago and Milwaukee), "low school performance and high poverty were correlated with high teacher turnover." NCTAF has also created a "Teacher Turnover Cost Calculator" so that other school districts can determine just how much money they're losing whenever a teacher walks out the door. But is the teacher attrition rate really so unusual in a rapidly-evolving job market, in which employees (especially talented 20-somethings) job-hop every two or three years? Maybe not (see here). Regardless, the report's recommendations for combating teacher attrition won't work. NCTAF recommends, for example, investing in new teacher support and development, and that districts upgrade their data systems to make clearer the costs of turnover. To channel the Clinton folks, can I be quoted yawning? Districts that want to hang on to their good teachers (and attract new ones) could start by bucking the unions, embracing common sense, and instituting some form of merit pay. It might also help if schools didn't pay chemistry instructors the same salary as they do gym teachers. And then there's the possibility that teacher attrition is just a cost of doing business. One can make a pretty persuasive case that school districts could actually use a lot fewer teachers, anyway. You can find the report here.