The Education Gadfly Weekly

Kudos to the Foundation for Excellence in Education’s Digital Learning Now! team: Its new fifty-state analysis of digital-learning policies offers a comprehensive, navigable, and timely look at the state-policy landscape for digital and blended education. The report scores each state’s policies against DLN’s ten “elements of high-quality digital learning” (including student access, funding, and quality choices), measured by the group’s thirty-nine underlying “metrics,” or policy criterion by which states are officially scored. Under “funding,” for example, is the metric “funding is provided on a fractional, per course basis to pay providers for individual online courses.” Overall, Utah comes out on top, garnering the lone A-minus. Another five states—Florida, Minnesota, Georgia, Virginia, and Kansas—earn Bs. Twenty-one states register Fs. The report doesn’t simply shame those with inadequate digital-learning policies, though. It provides numerous best-practice cases of states that passed quality digital-education legislation in 2012, including Georgia, Louisiana, and Rhode Island. And through its interactive web module, the report articulates state-specific recommendations. Most importantly, it stresses the need to ensure the quality of digital instruction through state policy—even though it stumbles a bit over how to define or ensure that quality. (According to the report, forty-four states have “quality content” for digital courses, which they define as content “aligned to state standards or the Common Core.” But it makes no mention of who determines or verifies that alignment—or if it is done at all.) Still and all, there’s much value here for everyone engaged in state-level policy for digital learning.

SOURCE: Digital Learning Now!, 2012 Digital Learning Report Card (Foundation for Excellence in Education, 2013).

This is the brave tale of Alan Bersin, superintendent of San Diego Unified School District from 1998 to 2005, and his aspiration to bring about rapid, systemic reform across that sprawling district. At attorney by training and experience, Bersin was new to school administration. But he moved swiftly, replacing the bloated, inefficient bureaucracy he had inherited with three distinct branches focused chiefly on improving instruction through centralized curricula, direct coaching, and observation. San Diego’s teacher union, however, viewed such moves as power grabs rather than legitimate reforms. Relations only got worse when Bersin implemented a prescriptive plan to curtail social promotion and increase instruction for high-need students—without teacher input. The union, upset at his top-down management style and his simultaneous embrace of charter schools, set out to change the composition of the school board and stock it with anti-Bersins. Never mind that overall student achievement had gone up and achievement gaps had significantly narrowed during his tenure. Bersin’s successor was then chosen to make peace between the union and the school district, and of course this peacemaking process undid just about all of his significant reforms. And the wheels keep spinning.

SOURCE: Richard Lee Colvin, Tilting at Windmills (Cambridge, MA: Harvard Education Press, 2013).

This new study on school competition examines which types of schools experience more competitive pressure and asks Milwaukee principals which schools they identify as their primary source of competition. The analysts use Milwaukee Public Schools (MPS) administrative, student-transfer, and achievement data for 2007–08 through 2009–10, as well as geographic data and MPS principal survey findings from 2010. Four key results arise: First, 45 percent of the surveyed principals reportedly experienced a lot of competitive pressure from other schools, 30 percent some, 14 percent a little, and 11 percent none. The schools of those who perceived some or a lot of pressure tended to have more poor children and those with special needs. Secondly, and surprisingly, the extent to which principals feel pressure is not related to geographic factors, such as the number of nearby schools serving the same grades. Analysts muse that this may be a result of the robust choice system in Milwaukee that includes transportation supports. However, the extent of competition is related to transfer rates out of a school and student performance—with low- and high-achieving schools feeling more pressure than those in the middle. Third, when asked to identify their biggest sources of competition, principals tended to point to schools that were similar to them with higher average scores, more white or Hispanic kids, and those that receive greater numbers of transfers from them. This makes intuitive sense. And fourth, the most common response to competition is not improving curriculum or instruction but ramping up outreach and advertisement to parents. The latter is more than a tad disappointing, because this is the same key finding that similar studies found a decade ago!

SOURCE: Susanna Loeb and Matthew Kasman, “Principals’ perceptions of competition for students in Milwaukee schools,” Education Finance and Policy 8 (1): 43-73.

Mike and Dara go beyond the Triassic in this week’s podcast, discussing a pre-K tax on tobacco, the new NGSS, and Texas’s two-step on graduation standards. Amber gets competitive with a discussion of school choice in Milwaukee.

Amber's Research Minute

“Principals’ perceptions of competition for students in Milwaukee schools,” by Susanna Loeb and Matthew Kasman, Education Finance and Policy 8 (1): 43-73

In his State of the Union address, President Obama called for making preschool available to every child in America. But questions abound: Is universal preschool politically and fiscally feasible—or even educationally necessary? Should we be expending federal resources on universal pre-K or targeting true Kindergarten-readiness programs for the neediest kids? How robust is the evidence of lasting impacts? And what exactly is the president proposing?

The U.S. Department of Education is on the verge of making an unprecedented and unwise decision.

Unless Secretary Duncan can be prevailed upon to reconsider, decades of education policy will be overturned and a federal agency will have assumed authority that should remain squarely in the hands of Congress and the states.

A group of California districts have jointly applied for an NCLB accountability waiver. So far only states have had proposals approved. It’s not the consortium’s application that’s noteworthy; it’s that the feds are taking it seriously. (Duncan evidently encouraged them, and the submission has been forwarded to peer reviewers.)

There’s very good reason to deny the application on the merits. The proposed accountability system relies too heavily on non-academic measures; sets the expectations bar too low; has weak interventions; and, most troublingly, trusts districts to hold themselves accountable. (Grave concerns about the plan’s achievement-gap implications have been raised by, among others, a former Bush administration official and Ed Trust’s head.)

But regardless of its content, this application—and similar district-accountability-waiver requests—should be denied for two reasons.

First, for years America has maintained an intricate K–12 accountability framework, with states playing lead. I never realized how critical this was until I worked for a state education agency.

Under state constitutions, state governments have responsibility for public education. Districts are creatures of state law—a mechanism for delivering on a state obligation. When courts determine funding is insufficient or results are unacceptable, they turn to the state.

It’s difficult to overstate the confusion introduced and leverage lost should the Department create a novel district-federal accountability relationship

This has led to an elaborate edifice of policies and practices with the state at the fulcrum. States adopt content standards and administer end-of-year assessments. States set proficiency cut scores, require interventions, and certify teachers. They monitor the implementation of state and federal policies and the distribution of state and federal funds.

Because of these authorities and responsibilities, states are the primary drivers of reform. Governors in the 1980s were able to advance the standards movement because state governments were the locus of K–12 power. Today’s exceptional state chiefs are able to lead Common Core implementation, common-assessment transitions, teacher-evaluation reform, and much more, largely because of the leverage provided by state accountability systems.

States like Massachusetts and Florida made substantial achievement progress over the last twenty years because of rigorous statewide reform plans. Others have made lesser but still palpable progress.

Granting district waivers to circumvent state-level accountability not only overturns NCLB, it upends the core of ESEA accountability

The Department must recognize that this structure buckles when the state is removed as the cornerstone. A unitary accountability system enables the state to fairly and transparently monitor program compliance and inform the public about performance; make difficult decisions about withholding funds, intervening with local boards, and taking over schools and districts; and uniformly and thoroughly administer federal programs.

It’s difficult to overstate the confusion introduced and leverage lost should the Department create a novel district-federal accountability linkage.

The second reason for denying district waivers is that approval would constitute a worrisome level of presumptuousness by an executive-branch agency.

For decades, the federal government, working within a statutory framework created by Congress (principally, the Elementary and Secondary Education Act), has supported the K–12 accountability framework described above. Even the audacious NCLB respected state authority, having states make decisions about standards, assessments, interventions, and more.

The decision to grant state ESEA waivers unquestionably pushed the limits of administrative authority. But at least state waivers maintained the basic architecture provided by the underlying federal law.

Granting district waivers to circumvent state-level accountability not only overturns NCLB, it upends the core of ESEA accountability. That is not within an administration’s discretion. If that’s to happen, it should be the culmination of a deliberative congressional process, not the product of a unilateral executive-branch decree.

Anyone familiar with the NCLB provision cited as the authority for state waivers or the statutory language that gave rise to Race to the Top knows that this Department is, shall we say, "expansive" when deducing its powers. (The New York Times called the state waiver strategy “the most sweeping use of executive authority to rewrite federal education law” since the 1960s.)

One can only wonder how the late Sen. Robert Byrd—jealous defender of congressional prerogatives—would’ve reacted upon hearing Secretary Duncan’s brash ultimatum, “If Congress doesn't act, we will.”

But even Congress’s most vociferous NCLB detractors and most passionate local-control advocates should bristle at the idea of district accountability waivers. U.S. Senator and former Secretary of Education Lamar Alexander questioned the Department’s authority to grant this type of waiver. One state superintendent said it “undermines states”; another called it an “affront.”

A state’s refusal to take the federal government’s bait doesn’t empower the Department to then negotiate a superseding deal with its districts

Indeed, the CORE (the consortium of California districts) proposal admits that its “application is unique given the lack of direct involvement from the state education agency”; it seeks to “build a new system of accountability” and give participating districts authority “rather than simply comply[ing] with state-level decisions.”

So far, it appears that the Department is relying on two defenses: First, there’s a history of district-federal relationships. Second, they’ve already given districts waivers on other matters.

Yet both underscore my point.

Existing district-federal relations are based on grants, not accountability systems. And approved district waivers are for narrow matters like flexibility with SES requirements and adjustments to test types; again, that’s very different than a new district-driven accountability system.

I take the Department at its word that it would prefer to work with states. But a state’s refusal to take the federal bait doesn’t empower the Department to then negotiate a superseding deal with its districts. The Department should not bypass the state’s constitutionally empowered education authority, override decades of precedent, and brush aside the intent of ESEA’s accountability framework because a state didn’t do what the Secretary wanted.

Now the Department has a problem. Secretary Duncan, having encouraged CORE and needled Congress, may feel pot-committed to approving the proposal. Like a young Orwell with the elephant, he may be compelled to see to conclusion an unfortunate progression of events he set in motion.

Now is the moment for the architects and leaders of our decades-old system of accountability to step up—CCSSO, NGA, members of Congress, former senior Department officials, civil-rights advocates. It might require a series of sotto voce conversations with the Secretary and a jointly signed public letter.

The message can be simple: Mr. Secretary, on other matters, your boldness has served you well. But this is a bridge too far. Please don’t do it. What your predecessors have carefully built and maintained over years shouldn’t be undone by the stroke of your lone pen.

This piece was edited on April 11, 2013, for the Education Gadfly Weekly.

It was one thing—and a legitimate thing—for Texas to opt out of the new Common Core academic standards for English language arts and math that forty-five other states have embraced. Although the rigorous and generally admirable Common Core is the work of states themselves, Governor Perry and then-commissioner Robert Scott viewed it as federally inspired mischief and an assault on the educational sovereignty of the Republic of Texas. They chose instead to adhere to the Lone Star State’s own expectations for what schools must teach and children should learn.

Well and good—because at the time of those decisions (and still today), Texas could boast strong standards in English language arts; so-so ones in math; solid assessments; and a forceful, results-based accountability system, including the tough part that state after state (including top-scoring Massachusetts) has shown to be key to actual achievement gains: requiring kids to pass the tests and meet the standards in order to graduate.

Then and now, Texas has a “default” high school curriculum designed to prepare students for college-level work and modern careers—the kind with futures—as well as a comprehensive set of end-of-course exams that they must pass en route to those diplomas. Taken seriously and implemented properly (including elementary and middle schools that prepare youngsters for these high school rigors), Texas has embarked on an education regimen that will truly deliver the results that a twenty-first century economy requires and that individuals need in order to afford themselves a solid shot at good jobs and rewarding careers.

All of which will start to unravel—and return Texas to a pre-reform era of educational mediocrity—if the legislature sends the governor the ill-conceived rollback measure that cleared the House last week.

Instead of today’s “4 x 4” default curriculum for high school students (four years each of English, math, science, and social studies), the norm for Texas teens would become an easier “foundation diploma” with thirteen required courses.

On its face, that may look like a modest rollback. What’s more insidious is that, by also scrapping ten of the state’s fifteen “end of course” exams, including those in almost all the tougher courses, Texas essentially forfeits uniform academic expectations and returns to the days when individual districts, schools, and teachers decided which students get diploma credit for which classes. That means standards will (again) vary widely from place to place and neither employers nor colleges will be sure which applicants truly possess what knowledge and skills. High school transcripts will be inscrutable and diplomas ambiguous. And since district superintendents will be tempted to offer only the courses that the state mandates, lots of young Texans—most of them likely poor or minority—will be left with no access to classes that would do the most to propel them to success in higher education and beyond.

No wonder the state’s major employers and university leaders oppose this measure. If the House version makes it into law, it will be because some don’t think the state’s sons and daughters can reach high standards. In the name of “local control,” Texas is stepping back toward a system that was inequitable, capricious, and inadequate.

Yes, fifteen end-of-course exams may have been too many. But five is too few, especially in a state that has chosen to shun the comparable assessments into which most of the country is heading. Without standard measuring sticks, schools and districts are apt (there’s much evidence on this, including a recent study by the National Center for Education Statistics) to put rigorous-sounding labels on easy courses—in essence, faking it. Statewide end-of-course exams are the best way to discourage this.

Much recent debate in Texas has focused on whether every high school student needs to pass “advanced algebra” en route to a diploma. The short answer is that this is nearly always necessary in order to enroll in college-level math without remediation. No, not every college student needs to take more math and not every high school student aspires to college. Indeed, the nationwide “college for everybody” push has gone too far, particularly if what’s meant is a classic four-year liberal-arts degree. But in today’s economy, even young people headed for industry need plenty of serious math. It’s irresponsible not to give all of them such career options—and irresponsible also to suppose that sixteen-year-olds are in the best position to make lifetime decisions that they may later regret.

Yes, they—with the assent of parent and guidance counselor—should be able to opt out of such courses. But the default should assume that everyone otherwise takes them. And the state’s assessment system should provide evidence that the courses are real, not fancy titles affixed to simple content that might be easy to pass in the short run but won’t get credit from the real world in the long run.

The bill that cleared the House the other day did make one improvement: The state’s accountability system will give individual schools parent-friendly letter grades from A to F rather than using complex terminology to designate a school’s status. And academic achievement will continue to figure in those designations. The problem is that bobtailing the assessment system means far less information will be available by which to determine how much achievement is actually occurring.

I hope, for the sake of millions of school-kids in our second-most-populous state—and for that state’s future—that the legislature sets this right before it reaches Governor Perry’s desk. So many worthy education reforms are in play in Austin today—reforms that add up, if wisdom prevails, to a needed comprehensive overhaul of Texas K–12 education—that it would be a particular pity if the quality standards that should undergird everything else are themselves badly weakened.

A shorter version of this piece appeared in the Houston Chronicle.

The “Next Generation Science Standards” are now out for inspection—though some remaining bits won't appear until later in the month—and Fordham's expert science team has just begun its review. In a few weeks, we'll have an appraisal. Later in the spring, we expect to produce some comparisons with individual states' present standards.

It's no secret that many of those are mediocre or worse—sometimes far worse. But it's also no secret that a few states have outstanding science standards, so devising such isn't impossible.

States that are already grappling with the challenges of implementing and assessing the Common Core standards for English language arts and math will, of course, need to determine just how many unfamiliar foods they can swallow and digest at once. And it's already evident that the new science standards will elicit some degree of controversy, not least because some topics covered therein are inherently contentious, beginning with evolution and climate change. (Climate change "activists" are already declaring that their side has "won" in the science standards.)

How science should be taught and learned is also certain to be tussled over. The NGSS emphasizes “doing” it. We'll await our reviewers' judgment of whether these new standards also pay sufficient attention to “knowing” it.

RELATED ARTICLE: Justin Gillis, “New Guidelines Call for Broad Changes in Science Education,” New York Times, April 9, 2013.

The Obama administration’s budget proposal was late to the party and is mostly a big yawn—at least when it comes to K–12 education. The big-ticket items, such as they are: level-funding for Title I and IDEA; new efforts to promote STEM education and tweak American high schools; and a Race to the Top for higher education. The real firepower is reserved for the President’s well-designed Pre-K plan, which would be the biggest federal expansion into early childhood since the creation of Head Start, to be financed by a huge increase in cigarette taxes. Were it not for Congressional realities, it might even be something to get excited about.

After changing part of the exam it uses to determine which four-year-olds are eligible for the coveted gifted-and-talented slots in its public schools, New York City has (very slightly) reduced the number of children who qualify. Yet most of the high scorers still came from the city’s richer areas—a problem, given that they altered the test precisely in order to combat the influence of income-related factors, such as test-prep programs. And (at the risk of sounding like a broken record) there still aren’t enough suitable options for gifted children.

Researchers from Yale, MIT, USC, and Stanford, with a little pocket change (i.e., a $10 million grant) from the National Science Foundation, are experimentally placing robotic “teaching assistants” in New York and California classrooms, where they will provide instruction in everything from math to vocabulary to nutrition. Forget blended learning—it’s time for robot teachers!

The latest application of California’s “parent-trigger” law will feature a distinctive partnership between the LAUSD and a local charter operator, who will jointly take over the failing 24th Street Elementary. The parents are essentially giving the district a second chance. Let’s hope it’s the right move.

In his State of the Union address, President Obama called for making preschool available to every child in America. But questions abound: Is universal preschool politically and fiscally feasible—or even educationally necessary? Should we be expending federal resources on universal pre-K or targeting true Kindergarten-readiness programs for the neediest kids? How robust is the evidence of lasting impacts? And what exactly is the president proposing?

In his State of the Union address, President Obama called for making preschool available to every child in America. But questions abound: Is universal preschool politically and fiscally feasible—or even educationally necessary? Should we be expending federal resources on universal pre-K or targeting true Kindergarten-readiness programs for the neediest kids? How robust is the evidence of lasting impacts? And what exactly is the president proposing?

Kudos to the Foundation for Excellence in Education’s Digital Learning Now! team: Its new fifty-state analysis of digital-learning policies offers a comprehensive, navigable, and timely look at the state-policy landscape for digital and blended education. The report scores each state’s policies against DLN’s ten “elements of high-quality digital learning” (including student access, funding, and quality choices), measured by the group’s thirty-nine underlying “metrics,” or policy criterion by which states are officially scored. Under “funding,” for example, is the metric “funding is provided on a fractional, per course basis to pay providers for individual online courses.” Overall, Utah comes out on top, garnering the lone A-minus. Another five states—Florida, Minnesota, Georgia, Virginia, and Kansas—earn Bs. Twenty-one states register Fs. The report doesn’t simply shame those with inadequate digital-learning policies, though. It provides numerous best-practice cases of states that passed quality digital-education legislation in 2012, including Georgia, Louisiana, and Rhode Island. And through its interactive web module, the report articulates state-specific recommendations. Most importantly, it stresses the need to ensure the quality of digital instruction through state policy—even though it stumbles a bit over how to define or ensure that quality. (According to the report, forty-four states have “quality content” for digital courses, which they define as content “aligned to state standards or the Common Core.” But it makes no mention of who determines or verifies that alignment—or if it is done at all.) Still and all, there’s much value here for everyone engaged in state-level policy for digital learning.

SOURCE: Digital Learning Now!, 2012 Digital Learning Report Card (Foundation for Excellence in Education, 2013).

This is the brave tale of Alan Bersin, superintendent of San Diego Unified School District from 1998 to 2005, and his aspiration to bring about rapid, systemic reform across that sprawling district. At attorney by training and experience, Bersin was new to school administration. But he moved swiftly, replacing the bloated, inefficient bureaucracy he had inherited with three distinct branches focused chiefly on improving instruction through centralized curricula, direct coaching, and observation. San Diego’s teacher union, however, viewed such moves as power grabs rather than legitimate reforms. Relations only got worse when Bersin implemented a prescriptive plan to curtail social promotion and increase instruction for high-need students—without teacher input. The union, upset at his top-down management style and his simultaneous embrace of charter schools, set out to change the composition of the school board and stock it with anti-Bersins. Never mind that overall student achievement had gone up and achievement gaps had significantly narrowed during his tenure. Bersin’s successor was then chosen to make peace between the union and the school district, and of course this peacemaking process undid just about all of his significant reforms. And the wheels keep spinning.

SOURCE: Richard Lee Colvin, Tilting at Windmills (Cambridge, MA: Harvard Education Press, 2013).

This new study on school competition examines which types of schools experience more competitive pressure and asks Milwaukee principals which schools they identify as their primary source of competition. The analysts use Milwaukee Public Schools (MPS) administrative, student-transfer, and achievement data for 2007–08 through 2009–10, as well as geographic data and MPS principal survey findings from 2010. Four key results arise: First, 45 percent of the surveyed principals reportedly experienced a lot of competitive pressure from other schools, 30 percent some, 14 percent a little, and 11 percent none. The schools of those who perceived some or a lot of pressure tended to have more poor children and those with special needs. Secondly, and surprisingly, the extent to which principals feel pressure is not related to geographic factors, such as the number of nearby schools serving the same grades. Analysts muse that this may be a result of the robust choice system in Milwaukee that includes transportation supports. However, the extent of competition is related to transfer rates out of a school and student performance—with low- and high-achieving schools feeling more pressure than those in the middle. Third, when asked to identify their biggest sources of competition, principals tended to point to schools that were similar to them with higher average scores, more white or Hispanic kids, and those that receive greater numbers of transfers from them. This makes intuitive sense. And fourth, the most common response to competition is not improving curriculum or instruction but ramping up outreach and advertisement to parents. The latter is more than a tad disappointing, because this is the same key finding that similar studies found a decade ago!

SOURCE: Susanna Loeb and Matthew Kasman, “Principals’ perceptions of competition for students in Milwaukee schools,” Education Finance and Policy 8 (1): 43-73.