Our School: The Inspiring Story of Two Teachers, One Big Idea, and the School that Beat the Odds
Joanne JacobsPalgrave Macmillan2005
Joanne JacobsPalgrave Macmillan2005
Joanne Jacobs
Palgrave Macmillan2005
Christmas shopping for the education lover? Joanne Jacobs's new book is a gift that charter school boosters - and many others - would welcome. They will celebrate Jennifer Andaluz's and Greg Lippman's vision for educating underachieving Hispanic students in San Jose. Readers' spirits will soar as they follow the lives of those students in Downtown College Prep's first graduating class - all but one of whom went straight to college. (The holdout was a young lady who was offered admission to Wesleyan if she first agreed to attend an East Coast boarding school for one year - on full scholarship. She took the deal.) They'll even feel good for the ones who didn't make it to graduation day. Pedro, a bright but rebellious kid, was kicked out for bad behavior. "It was my fault," he admitted. But his sister's still in DCP and, largely because of Pedro's constant encouragement, she is determined not to make the same mistakes he did. But the book won't make charter supporters any surer about the future of the movement. DCP's success had as much to do with luck as with the founders' pluck.. What if Andaluz and Lippman had never met Father Mateo Sheedy, a dying priest who bought into their vision and provided them space for the school? Or what if they lacked the modest support of the San Jose Unified School District? Change any one of these factors, and the school doesn't survive, maybe doesn't even open. Such serendipitous relationships make for good drama. But serendipity doesn't build large numbers of charter schools. Regardless of the implications for charter policy, Jacobs gives her audience a first-hand, no-holds-barred look at why charters can work. People. No other book on the bookstore shelves today tells the charter story as well.
Naomi Chudowsky and Victor Chudowsky
Center on Education Policy
November 2005
Lowering standards and making tests easier aren't the only ways that states might seek to shield schools from the sunlight and sanctions of the No Child Left Behind Act (see here and here). They can also finagle their definitions of "adequate yearly progress" (AYP) and, according to this report released last month by the Center on Education Policy (CEP), such sleight-of-hand is rampant. The report explains, in refreshingly clear language, how each state must create an AYP formula that, at its heart, delineates what proportion of a school's students (and subgroups) must reach the "proficient" level each year in order to stay off the "schools in need of improvement" list. By 2014, that proportion must rise to 100 percent. Early on, some states found ways to game this system. For example, several used the "balloon mortgage" approach to set their timelines, thereby delaying dramatic gains in achievement to as late a date as possible (see here). But states have since become even more creative. Forty-six of them now use a "confidence interval," which CEP defines as "a margin of error that creates a certain amount of 'wiggle room' around the test results...and makes it easier for a school to demonstrate AYP." Twenty-three states increased their "minimum subgroup sizes" in 2004 or 2005, making it more likely that subgroup scores - including those for African-American or Latino youngsters - won't count within the AYP determination. (See here for the most egregious example of this.) Twelve states now use some sort of performance index that gives partial credit to schools even if their students don't reach the proficient level - a precursor to the Secretary's "growth model" pilot program (see here). And now, 11 states allow scores from retests (especially for high school students taking graduation exams more than once) to count for AYP purposes. No doubt each of these approaches can be defended on technical or policy grounds, and CEP is careful not to pass judgment in toto against these methods. Indeed, it saves its sharpest criticism for the Department of Education for lack of timeliness and transparency in responding to state requests for approval for changes to their accountability plans. (To the Department's credit, it is becoming somewhat more transparent; see here, here, and here for details on recent policy decisions.) Still, the larger picture painted is one of state obfuscation and dizzying complexity - attributes that spell trouble for standards-based reform. Do we need any more evidence that most state policymakers are destined to bend to political pressure rather than stand up for high expectations and rigorous accountability? Judge for yourself; see the report here.
People typically try to avoid unintended consequences, but there are exceptions. This might be one. Los Angeles Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa's move to take control of the L.A. Unified School District is leading some activists again to call for the break-up of the sprawling system, which serves at least 27 municipalities other than Los Angeles proper. The residents of these outlying communities currently vote for LAUSD's school board; if that board goes away, so would their say in district affairs. So they are threatening to secede—an action that could unintentionally lead to a happy ending for everyone. If secession goes forward, the City of Angels would finally have someone to hold accountable for the quality of its schools (the mayor). And the L.A. metro area would start to look more like, say, Boston's, where a relatively large number of suburban districts compete for parents and students, thus raising achievement (see here). With the potential for this conflict to yield such gains, here's hoping for an un-amicable resolution this holiday season.
"School Takeover Plan: Too Big an Assignment?" by Richard Fausset and Joel Rubin, Los Angeles Times, December 6, 2005
Pity the grandmother who sends a bounty of oven-fresh cupcakes to the school bake sale. Grandma may have good intentions, but she and others of her ilk are inadvertently condemning America's school children to an obesity 'epidemic.' At least, that's what University of Minnesota professor Martha Kubik argues. She conducted a study linking schools that hold bake sales to more-obese student bodies. Perhaps. The good professor does acknowledge that 'her research doesn't prove that such food practices contribute to adolescent obesity.' A New Haven principal who has banned vending machines and insists his cafeteria serve only 'healthy food,' however, does see a link between less candy at school and few chubby kids in the hall. And he says the bon-bon ban has other positives - no candy wrappers, for example, so 'our hallways are impeccable.' Which leads Gadfly to wonder, where are all the banana peels and edamame pods? But at least one person stands up for Grandma. Another U of M professor, this one an expert in popular culture, says, 'Leave the ladies with the cupcakes alone!' Hear hear.
"Study links bake sales, weight problems," Boston Globe, December 5, 2005
On November 30, Louisiana governor Kathleen Blanco signed legislation that transferred control of 102 New Orleans schools to state management. For now, most of the Big Easy's public schools remain closed. But when they re-open in the fall, many will do so as charter schools. The Wall Street Journal's editors report that "Some 20 charters have been approved so far, but more will be needed." Indeed. Both the Broad and Gates foundations, the KIPP Academy program, and Tulane University have all expressed interest in supporting some of New Orleans' schools. Gadfly hopes the city will seize this opportunity to do chartering properly. If the governor, state lawmakers, philanthropists, and parents continue forward and carry through, Bourbon Street may soon not be the only sector of the city filled with joyous noise. So, too, will the city's long-failing schools.
"Orleans school takeover is official," Times-Picayune, December 1, 2005
"A Louisiana Education," Wall Street Journal, December 2, 2005 (subscription required)
Science education in America is in trouble. "Discovery learning" is attacking on one flank and the Discovery Institute on the other. That's the core finding of our just-released State of State Science Standards 2005 appraisal by the eminent biologist Paul R. Gross, former head of the Marine Biological Laboratory at Woods Hole and former provost of the University of Virginia.
Fordham undertook similar studies in 1998 and 2000. Why do it again? Because much has changed in five years. Most states have revised or replaced (or launched) their standards to prepare for the testing in science that No Child Left Behind will soon mandate. Also at play are the forces of anti-science, particularly neo-creationists flying the banner of intelligent design.
Simultaneously, pressure is increasing to fix America's slipshod performance in science education . A recent National Academy of Sciences commission concludes that "Without high-quality, knowledge-intensive jobs and the innovative enterprises that lead to discovery and new technology, our economy will suffer and our people will face a lower standard of living." (See here for more.) In his best-selling book, The World is Flat, Thomas Friedman hammers the point: "The truth is, we are in a crisis now.... And this quiet crisis involves the steady erosion of America's scientific and engineering base, which has always been the source of American innovation and our rising standard of living." Safeguarding the nation's future means paying serious attention to science education in today's schools.
There's ample evidence that it needs work. Long-term trend results on the National Assessment of Educational Progress (NAEP) show virtually no change in students' science prowess over the past 30 years. According to the Trends in International Mathematics and Science Study (TIMSS), American youngsters' grasp of science is actually slipping. In 1995, our 4th graders were outperformed by their peers in four countries; eight years later, seven other lands had 4th graders that bested ours in science.
In 2000, Fordham reviewer Lawrence Lerner conferred "honors" ("A" and "B") grades on the standards of just 19 states, "C's" on 6, "D's" on 9, and failing marks on a full dozen. (Iowa and four other jurisdictions had no reviewable science standards at the time.)
This time around, a number of states did better - but as many did worse. Nineteen states again deserve honors grades - but now there are 9 "C's," 7 "D's," and 15 "F's."
If there's good news, it's that 55 percent of U.S. children attend school in the "honors" states.
But 45 percent do not.
The seven "A" states prove that it's possible to craft outstanding standards despite all the pushing and hollering. Hence we find ourselves wondering why other states don't use those standards as models for their own. And speculating that America might be better off with high-quality national standards for science. How much difference is there, after all, between what kids in Jacksonville should learn about science and what those in Worcester or Terre Haute should learn? (For that matter, how much difference is there between Jacksonville and Seoul, Prague, or Cape Town?)
Five other conclusions also leap out from Dr. Gross's study.
First, evolution remains a flashpoint and the intelligent design folks are relentless. (They've even recruited President Bush and Senate Majority Leader Bill Frist to urge "equal time" for intelligent design creationism and Darwin, which is not unlike recommending that mustard plasters and bleeding be taken as seriously as antibiotics and bypass surgery.) A number of states have resisted this madness but too many are fudging or obfuscating the entire basis on which biology rests. Kansas is the worst offender but far from the only one. (Other observers have reached the same conclusion. A new analysis by Education Week says "many ... standards ... fail to address the fundamental evidence supporting the theory, which explains how life on Earth developed.")
Second, "discovery learning" is getting more weight than it can support in science, mostly due to states' over-eager and misguided application of some pedagogical advice enshrined in the so-called "national standards" propounded by the American Association for the Advancement of Science (AAAS) and the National Research Council (NRC). If schools taught nothing else, the school day might be long enough to contain a full measure of lab work and student-directed learning as well as teacher-led instruction in fundamental scientific knowledge, skills, and procedures. Given the tight limits within which science education typically occurs, however, and given educators' affection for constructivist pedagogy rather than traditional instruction, U.S. students run a grave risk of being expected to discover the laws of thermodynamics for themselves and to replicate the work of Newton, Einstein, Watson, and Crick. That's crazy.
Third, the follies of AAAS and NRC need to be kept in mind not just by states reworking their own standards but also in any effort to substitute national for state standards. The swarming panels of science educators that recently drafted a new science "framework" for the National Assessment of Educational Progress (NAEP) delivered an inadequate product. (See Fordham's report, Less Than Proficient: A Review of the Draft Science Framework for the 2009 National Assessment of Educational Progress.) The National Assessment Governing Board wisely adjusted their draft - but this bears close scrutiny as NAEP moves from framework to actual science test (to start in 2009).
Fourth, many of the shortcomings in states' science standards are easily fixed. What they mainly need (apart from the simple remedy of substituting the outstanding versions already crafted by other states) is deeper involvement by bench scientists and better editing!
Fifth, and finally, it bears repeating that terrific standards are no guarantor of a terrific education being delivered or absorbed. Science may be the subject that U.S. teachers are least able to teach well - and the one where the traditional personnel practices of public education (e.g., ed-school preparation, state certification, uniform salary schedules) are least apt to yield the teachers we need in 2005.
Given America's well-warranted anxiety about its future scientific knowhow, one would think that states would do all they could to address this challenge. Drafting rigorous standards is the first step - and a relatively easy (and inexpensive) one. Yet most states have again come up short. So besides pronouncements from blue-ribbon panels and best-selling authors, it must be asked whether we're sincere about improving science education in this country. The rest of the world isn't waiting for our answer.
State of State Science Standards 2005, by Paul R. Gross
"Report Says States Aim Low in Science Class," by Michael Janofsky, New York Times
Baltimore's school district performed dismally on this past spring's state standardized tests but, rather than address the problem seriously, school administrators decided to go trendy. "When the boat is sinking," says the district's Frank DeStefano, "you don't follow the manual. You fix it." Enter Sally Mentor Hay, former chief academic officer of Denver public schools and her self-created pet project, Studio Course. Baltimore has instituted this curriculum in all of its 21 traditional middle schools, two of its alternative schools, and one K-8 school. Hay's "cutting-edge" approach redefines nouns as "stuff" and uses the magazine CosmoGIRL! (this month's feature: "Five Hot New Kisses") to teach reading. Hay claims that, in between articles about smooching and such, Studio Course addresses basic skills, just not right away. "The first thing is to build some fluency in writing, not shut it down with overemphasis on spelling and grammar.... That is not the focus. The focus is to get these kids to realize they have something to say." Getting kids to realize that they have something to say? Has Ms. Hay ever actually spent time with middle schoolers? Or heard of Instant-Messaging? LOL!
"Schools rush into change," by Sara Neufeld, Baltimore Sun, December 4, 2005
Joanne Jacobs
Palgrave Macmillan2005
Christmas shopping for the education lover? Joanne Jacobs's new book is a gift that charter school boosters - and many others - would welcome. They will celebrate Jennifer Andaluz's and Greg Lippman's vision for educating underachieving Hispanic students in San Jose. Readers' spirits will soar as they follow the lives of those students in Downtown College Prep's first graduating class - all but one of whom went straight to college. (The holdout was a young lady who was offered admission to Wesleyan if she first agreed to attend an East Coast boarding school for one year - on full scholarship. She took the deal.) They'll even feel good for the ones who didn't make it to graduation day. Pedro, a bright but rebellious kid, was kicked out for bad behavior. "It was my fault," he admitted. But his sister's still in DCP and, largely because of Pedro's constant encouragement, she is determined not to make the same mistakes he did. But the book won't make charter supporters any surer about the future of the movement. DCP's success had as much to do with luck as with the founders' pluck.. What if Andaluz and Lippman had never met Father Mateo Sheedy, a dying priest who bought into their vision and provided them space for the school? Or what if they lacked the modest support of the San Jose Unified School District? Change any one of these factors, and the school doesn't survive, maybe doesn't even open. Such serendipitous relationships make for good drama. But serendipity doesn't build large numbers of charter schools. Regardless of the implications for charter policy, Jacobs gives her audience a first-hand, no-holds-barred look at why charters can work. People. No other book on the bookstore shelves today tells the charter story as well.
Naomi Chudowsky and Victor Chudowsky
Center on Education Policy
November 2005
Lowering standards and making tests easier aren't the only ways that states might seek to shield schools from the sunlight and sanctions of the No Child Left Behind Act (see here and here). They can also finagle their definitions of "adequate yearly progress" (AYP) and, according to this report released last month by the Center on Education Policy (CEP), such sleight-of-hand is rampant. The report explains, in refreshingly clear language, how each state must create an AYP formula that, at its heart, delineates what proportion of a school's students (and subgroups) must reach the "proficient" level each year in order to stay off the "schools in need of improvement" list. By 2014, that proportion must rise to 100 percent. Early on, some states found ways to game this system. For example, several used the "balloon mortgage" approach to set their timelines, thereby delaying dramatic gains in achievement to as late a date as possible (see here). But states have since become even more creative. Forty-six of them now use a "confidence interval," which CEP defines as "a margin of error that creates a certain amount of 'wiggle room' around the test results...and makes it easier for a school to demonstrate AYP." Twenty-three states increased their "minimum subgroup sizes" in 2004 or 2005, making it more likely that subgroup scores - including those for African-American or Latino youngsters - won't count within the AYP determination. (See here for the most egregious example of this.) Twelve states now use some sort of performance index that gives partial credit to schools even if their students don't reach the proficient level - a precursor to the Secretary's "growth model" pilot program (see here). And now, 11 states allow scores from retests (especially for high school students taking graduation exams more than once) to count for AYP purposes. No doubt each of these approaches can be defended on technical or policy grounds, and CEP is careful not to pass judgment in toto against these methods. Indeed, it saves its sharpest criticism for the Department of Education for lack of timeliness and transparency in responding to state requests for approval for changes to their accountability plans. (To the Department's credit, it is becoming somewhat more transparent; see here, here, and here for details on recent policy decisions.) Still, the larger picture painted is one of state obfuscation and dizzying complexity - attributes that spell trouble for standards-based reform. Do we need any more evidence that most state policymakers are destined to bend to political pressure rather than stand up for high expectations and rigorous accountability? Judge for yourself; see the report here.