If you haven’t followed the prior few days of my blogs on the notion of evaluating teacher effectiveness you might want to go back and do some prep before you read this next post… cause today, I am going to go to bat for yet another key ingredient requisite to drafting a fair, multi-textual portrait of my professionalism as an educator.

I want the kids to weigh in. Yep, let the customers have their say!

The criticism I most often hear with this idea is that the kids can’t be trusted. I believe the opposite is true. I think the kids often give me the most honest insight into what happens in the rooms of other teachers.

When I want to know how a math or history or science teacher is, I go to my students. And you know what… they tell the truth.

The rigorous teachers don’t get slammed. They may get complained about for being too demanding but they don’t get torched. Kids want to learn and teachers that reach and teach them get love when the teacher is out of earshot.

However, the teachers that don’t teach do get scorched. Of course, face to face, the kids act as if the teacher who lets students “kick it” and not work hard and watch movies and the such, they think they are friends with the students… and that the students have their backs.

Nothing could be further from the truth. The kids do not respect these type of teachers and they get sold out as being “dudes who do nothing, who never do nothing in class” whenever someone asks.

The kids might very well be the MOST honest group of people on campus.

A teacher that works ‘em may not be adored, but they will be respected and when evaluation time comes around, the students will most certainly say as much.

“She demands too much and gives too much work and is always making me do stuff.” To the knowing eye, is this really a bad eval? Even if they say, “And she’s mean, too.”

I think we can all read between the lines on that one. One day, I hope my daughter says this. It’s beats the opposite. “Oh, she’s too easy. I’m bored.”

But kids will tell you the real deal. “All we do in that class is copy the problems from the textbook and the teacher doesn’t do hardly nothing,” or “All that teacher does is check their FaceBook page all day long” and on and on.

What should we not trust about this? Are we worried that kids will conspire to collectively lie to try and railroad a teacher? Well, in the anonymous system I propose (see earlier post from a few days ago) I believe kids will tell the truth. (Frankly, I’d be more worried about department wide conspiracies to oust someone by the teachers than I’d be worried about all students buying into a prank to screw over a good educator — and I already addressed that concern as not too legit a concern at all. The Atticus! argument).

Plus, all evals would be viewed over time. 3 years minimum.

Year 1 filled with THIS TEACHER STINKS! evals, well, hey, that could be an anomaly. Year 2 filled with THIS TEACHER STINKS! evals, well, this could be the start of a pattern. But three years in a row of THIS TEACHER STINKS! evals?

And then we look at the peer evals.
And then we look at the admin evals.
And then we look at the, hold your breath, students achievement levels via test scores.

And if all of them point to a “Whoa, this person is a bottom dwelling lemon in every category we consider,” well, that’s when the consequences of not measuring up on the teacher effectiveness scale do seem to have a bit of credibility, don’t they?

Let the kids speak. They will take the evals seriously (for the most part) and they should have a say if for no other reason than it’ll be quite honest.

Multiples measures for measuring teacher effectiveness will continue tomorrow… post is growing too long.

As I discussed yesterday, when it comes to measuring teacher effectiveness (it’s all the rage in national education policy these days), I, as an educator, want multiple measures to be used.

Yesterday I conceded the use of student test scores via bubble tests to measure my effectiveness because I know that this is a deal breaker for the policy makers in D.C. On this point they are intractable and if politics is the art of compromise, then fine — I’d rather accept multiple measures that include test scores than have no seat at the decision making table and have a host of ridiculous other stuff rammed down my throat.

And ram they will.

So what measures do I want? Yesterday, I said I wanted peer evaluations to count. Today I am going to ask for administrative evaluations.

Yep, I want them. But, the quid pro quo is that I want my administrators to be evaluated by the teaching staff as well. And I want the federal government to use whatever stick they will use to punish me for not meeting their targets to be the same stick they use to admonish admins who do not meet their targets.

Let’s level the playing field. Teacher effectiveness is related to administrative effectiveness so while we are re-inventing the “assess our school professionals wheel” let’s do it properly, huh?

We need to implement an administrative effectiveness tool side-by-side with this new teacher effectiveness tool.

It’s not biting off more than we can chew. It’s called doing it properly one time instead of perpetually re-doing it over and over and over again.

Truly, I repeat, it makes no sense not to do all of this at the same time. (Or else, let me guess, eight years from now some genius is going to look up and say, “Ya know, teacher effectiveness is related to administrative effectiveness. Maybe we should measure them, as well?”)

Suddenly, that cantankerous VP who makes every teacher’s life hell but sucks up to the Assistant Superintendent like a lap dog will not have a place to hide. Conversely, the principal that really goes to bat for their staff yet takes it on the chin from the Assistant Superintendent will have a means of not being forced into the role of subservient lap dog.

Let the admins measure my effectiveness. But theirs must be assessed as well.

And then we get to the juicy stuff… the district level measurements of effectiveness.

Why should they not also have to answer to the assessment and accountability God? I am not joking, either. A great Supe gets a lotta love from the peeps in the district. I know, I have seen it many, many times. And a bad Supe operates almost with impunity nowadays.

Tyrants in a fiefdom, unchecked and protected only by mammoth buy-out clauses.

Look, there are basically three levels to classroom education that are being funded by the state and nation: the classroom level, the administrative level and the district level. (The state level already has to answer in part to the Federal level and the state’s voters — plus, that realm of accountability is only growing these days so I don’t want to tread into that muck too much).

Admins, please feel free to measure my effectiveness. But know that your own effectiveness will be measured by me as well and whatever consequences can be meted out for my underperformance will apply to you as well should your measurements not measure up.

Justice is blind, no one is above the law, and take that, Mo Fo!

Fair is fair.

The VP who comes at 5:30 a.m., leaves at 7:45 p.m. and does the work of three distict level employees… give ‘em some love.

The bonehead principal who only has two more years to retirement and is playing out the string trying just not to cause any waves nor expend too much effort.

Meet your maker!

This game is gettin’ fun now, huh? Suddenly, everyone is accountable and teachers can’t be the only ones demonized with data.

Multiples measures for measuring teacher effectiveness will continue tomorrow… post is growing too long.

These past few days I have been blogging about this idea of measuring teacher effectiveness. To do this properly, the rule seems to me that the powers-that-be are going to have to use multiple measures.

And when I say multiple, I mean multiple.

First off, test scores. Fine, you want them so bad, I’ll put them on the table. (And this is coming from a guy who is Mr. Anti-Bubble test so this is no small concession on my part – but since I know how much they mean to you, I’ll toss in the first olive branch.)

But you gotta give me a few things in order for me to believe that measuring my effectiveness has been fairly rendered.

I want my peers weigh in on me. That’s right, my peers. They may be scallywags and rascals, but if you create an anonymous system whereby the teachers in my department can give me a score, I think that there will be some merit to be found in their aggravate evaluation.

Let’s say we use a 10 point scale. Is your peer, Mr. Alan an effective teacher? (Please, for the sake of me not having to explicate an entire survey, know that, of course, the peer survey will be more than 1 mere vague question — I am trying to make a point here, so please, cut me some slack.)

And so, back to the question: Please rank Mr. Alan on a scale from 1 to 10 (ten being the highest).

Throw out the top score and throw out the bottom and I think you get a picture. Not a crystal clear picture, but hey, fellow teachers know our peers to some extent and if across the board for 3 years in a row, a person is scoring 2’s and 1’s on the peer evaluation survey, I’d say that it reflects something bigger than a “nobody around here likes me” issue.

Year one is an anomaly. Year 2 is an indication. Three years in a row. That’s smoke… and perhaps there’s fire.

Besides, I will have to trust the professionalism of my colleagues to try and do what’s right. (I mean HOLY JEEZ, we have to start trusting one another!) Besides, the ELA Dept is not Lord of the Flies and railroading someone out of political conspiracy just for the sake of a power grab doesn’t seem very likely to happen to a teacher that colleagues feel is actually doing a good job of, well, teaching.

I know, the cynics will tell me, “Oh, I am SOOOOOOOO wrong!” (Did I mention the trust factor? We’re being trusted with the lives of kids but we can’t trust one another to simply be honest on a simple survey. We really need to get a grip.)

Ultimately, the dude down the hall might be a schmuck, but if he’s a good teacher, I am going to have to be a big enough boy to recognize that if the kids are being well served by him, that should count for something — and I can give him a 7 instead of a 9 because he has a grumpy disposition. Whatever. But if he’s not a 2 I won’t give that to him.

Plus, knowing that he’s gonna have a chance to weigh in on me, well, it certainly tamps down my desire to be contentious… at least with a person who is doing their job.

As far as the opposite conspiracy taking place (“Hey man, you give me a ten and I’ll give you a ten, okay?”) the thing about teachers is, way too many of us are like Atticus Finch and would respond with some kind of comment like, “It’s nothing personal, but my integrity prohibits me from making any such deal as aspects like this could undermine the entire American education system… and that’s a system to which I believe we must contribute honesty.”

Come on, you know you are out there. How many of you would really give a 10 to a teacher who you thought was a three simply so that they would return the favor in kind?

Like I said, Atticus lives.

Multiples measures for measuring teacher effectiveness will continue tomorrow… post is growing too long.

I am a huge fan of teacher autonomy. Trust me on this. I used to be a pariah, now I am considered an innovator. Either way, it’s my own internal teaching compass which always drives my class and if you look at all the writing I have done, I really don’t feel the need to open this post with a defense of myself on this front.

I believe I can be taken at my word – I am a HUGE fan of teacher autonomy.

However, teacher autonomy has wrought having scores of unfit boneheads in the classroom and they are doing so much damage — and they operate with virtual impunity in an unchecked manner that’s making almost a mockery of teaching as a profession… to say nothing of how the application of common sense employment guidelines are being kicked to the curb – and there needs to be reform.

Is the federal government’s desire to measure teacher effectiveness really an oligarchical march to power with an eye towards submarining democracy? Sure, the point actually has a small speck of merit because politicians are psychos… but to me, this is about “How do I know that the 9th grade English teacher down the hall isn’t checking her Facebook page all day instead of actually educating the children in her room?”

Because that is what is really going on out there.

And so, do we stall efforts at reforming the system so that the people who are literally stealing from our kids and taxpayers get outed and addressed or do we get mired in fighting off the shadows of potential dystopia through ceding to a measurement system?

Personally, I don’t even think the decision is a close call.

We really, right now, have a segment of teachers that do not deserve to be in the classroom. We also have a segment of teachers that are rock stars. And we have practically no means of knowing who is who. As a result, we are worse off for it. The top teachers can be empowered to expand their influence and the bottom teachers can be reigned in to re-adjust theirs, if we were only to know, who is who.

Now, if this means I am setting myself up to be an unwitting lemming that empowers the forces of oligarchy to finally seize control of democracy once and for all, then I think what really has come to pass is that we have lost the ability to apply some common sense to this issue.

I need to know if the sixth grade teacher down the hall is actually teaching pre-algebra to her kids or if she’s playing soduku.

CAUSE THAT IS WHAT’S REALLY GOING ON!

And if she’s the universe’s most awesome pre-algebra teacher, the pied piper of factoring equations, maybe she should be turned to as a thought leader on this subject area so that others can learn from her methods?

That’s what I believe measuring teacher effectiveness is all about.

One one hand it’s about outing the lemons. On the other hand it’s about taking advantage of our best talent to expand their “sphere of influence”.

And for those in the middle — most of us — it’s about identifying ways to see our strengths, recognize our weaknesses and see how we can better grow as professionals.

But there’s no trust. That’s what the conspiracy theories illuminate for me. We believe nefarious evil-doers are at the gate waiting to pounce on the unsuspecting sheep who lower their democratic guard for a minute.

Naahhhh. It’s about the fact that our entire system is riddled by a lack of trust. We don’t trust our federal government, we don’t trust our school districts, we don’t trust administrators and we hardly trust one another.

It’s like an overweight person getting on a scale. Only the people this person trusts get to see the number of pounds posted. And if you are forced on the scale, it’s an exercise in shame.

But if you can get the person to the scale willingly – because they trust that you are there to help them become more healthy, lose some weight, let go of some issues that are interfering with their ability to be better — you can make some real headway.

How can we really see where we are and learn how to improve if we are so unwilling to actually see where we are?

This is not about dystopian power plays. This is about common sense. People are being paid to do jobs. How are they doing?

We have no means of answering that question and it’s a gaping hole.

Are we hiding something? Really, are we?

Because let me be the first to call it like it is — when it comes to the conversation about teacher effectiveness, I think I am secretly harboring an inferiority complex about my own deficiencies to do this job of being a teacher… at least to do it in a manner that is beyond reproach.

And I don’t want other people to know about it.

And I certainly do not want this information revealed to my bosses. Why? Because I don’t sense that they are sympathetic to all the challenges, hurdles and generally unreasonable demands that are being placed on me.

Come on, I can’t turn water into wine. And yet, in a way, that’s what I am being asked to do when you take all the mitigating factors into consideration. Amazingly, I do pretty well at it — at times, that is. Let’s just say that some days are way better than others.

However, I certainly don’t feel that “measuring my effectiveness” is going to take all of the “peripheral issues” and “extenuating circumstances” into account and ultimately, I think that politicians are just going to use whatever information they glean from “measuring my effectiveness” to shame me and try to make me worker harder, work longer, and do it all for less money with less resources.

So am I hiding something when it comes to being transparent about measuring my effectiveness as a teacher?

I tell you this, my natural reflex is to want to hide. To want to cover up. To want to close my door and only seek the solace and company and empathy that someone else in like circumstances can understand.

Other teachers get me. Politicians, I feel, do not. Therefore, when they say they want to measure me, I recoil and think, “Up yours, Dude… you are the one who captained this ship to the rocks and now you want to blame the people rowing.”

So, is measuring teacher effectiveness even possible? Well first, for me to really play ball with this whole idea, I am going to have to trust the process.

That is the one of the first “hows” when it comes to measuring teacher effectiveness. The teachers must feel as if we are going to be given a fair shake, we must feel that our evaluations are going to be taken in proper context as opposed to being viewed through myopic, unfair prisms, and we must feel that we have been properly and fairly represented at the table when the rules of what constitutes this measurement is made.

And with NCLB being your latest foray into education policy, you are already starting behind the eight ball buddy. I have emotional baggage right now and let’s be honest, as an educator I am a tarnished, not a clean, slate.

And you are the one who tarnished me. I want to believe — really I do. But fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice…

Think about the immense accomplishment of safely putting a human being on the moon and then returning that person back home to planet earth. Truly, it’s almost unreal when you think about the size and scope of the achievement… and yet, we did it.

But to listen to teachers in America today say, “There is no way to measure teacher effectiveness,” you’d think that interplanetary travel was nothing but a puny science activity compared to the beast that evaluating the professional work a 7th grade English teacher in Anaheim, California would be.

I just don’t buy it.

I mean right now I can fire off an email through a mobile, handheld device from the center of Detroit, Michigan that could be read in China, forwarded to South America and then replied to by a person in Israel all within a matter of minutes, yet gathering reasonable insight into the professional performance of the math teacher down the hall is entirely unachievable?

It’s not.

And we should stop saying it is.

Obviously, this opens up a whole can of worms as to “how” we can measure teacher effectiveness (because that is the real question) so over the course of the next few days, months, and so on, I will speak to a variety of the “how it can be done” aspects to this conversation.

Not that I actually have all, or even any of the answers.

But I do know that the first thing we all must recognize is that yes, it can be done. It is not impossible. It is not beyond human capability. It is not a smaller feat than inventing the wheel, discovering fire, harnessing electricity or slicing bread.

So how about we ask that all teachers in this country take a deep breath and admit the obvious: it’s possible. Truly, before we are able to measure teacher effectiveness, we are all going to have to calmly acknowledge that yes, indeed it can be done.

It might not be easy.
It might not be quick.
It might not be cheap.
It might not be impeccably flawless beyond the pale of any and all criticism (because so many other things in this world have risen to that level so why shouldn’t measuring teacher effectiveness do the same? Author’s note: dripping sarcasm.)
But it is not impossible.

I do wish cooler heads would prevail for this national conversation. Before we can measure teacher effectiveness we are going to have to realize that splitting the atom, mapping the human genome and getting a taxicab in New York City in the pouring rain have all been done.

Measuring teacher effectiveness can be done as well. The question is not one of “if” but of “how”.

And like I said, more on that in the posts ahead.

I’ve heard that it costs the United States Treasury more than one cent to produce a penny. Obviously these people went to American schools because where else would you come up with the idea to spend more money creating an item than the item itself would ultimately be worth?

And then, complicating the irony of it all is the fact that this is currency we’re talking about. We are losing money making [literally] money.

But worse yet, why do we still continue to do it.

Once upon a time, copper was cheap and the U.S. penny actually possessed the ability to purchase something. Not much, but something.

Nowadays if all you have is a penny in your pocket — or two or three — you ain’t got squat. I can’t think of anything that a penny will buy. (Except “your thoughts” and for some people’s, that’s over-paying… another issue entirely.)

And yet, the U.S. Treasury is coming out with a new penny. Never mind the fact that there was a campaign I’d heard of a few years ago to get rid of the penny entirely (because of its out-dated-ness, the folly of its cost, and so on) and just kick the lowest form of U.S. currency up to a nickel. (BTW, I’d sign that petition.) So essentially, they are going to continue to use taxpayer money to create new money that is less valuable than the expenditure it took to craft the money in the first place.

From the moment it rolls off the production line it’s an exercise in silliness. And yet, they continue to do it. Why?

Cause that’s the way it’s always been done. (I guess.) I only wish they would take a lesson from our schools.

D’oh!

Anyone notice that we, in education, still seem to do a lot of things for what seems like the “cause that’s the way it’s always been done” reason.

I guess those in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones at the penny makers, huh? I mean, I could bash and bash this new penny idea on and on but at least the U.S. Treasury has money.

Schools, we certainly don’t. Matter of fact, we’re so hard up that to us pennies look like benjamins.

Tuesday was Read Across America day, chosen as such because it’s the birthday of Dr. Seuss (who, btw, is probably one of the most influential authors to shape my own writing life).

Me, I read all of my classes GREEN EGGS AND HAM. Literally, I sat them all on the carpet (criss-cross apple sauce style) and these rambunctious, worldy, street smart teens immediately reverted into a crowd of 34 first graders eager for story time.

Never diminish the power of reading to your students. For the sake of modeling. For the sake of fluency. For the sake of fun. Wasn’t a kid in my room who didn’t just LOVE it.

Of course, it’s probably most fun for the teacher, though. Makes me jealous of all the elementary school teachers who get to read to their kids all the time.

Anyway, as a warm up, I wanted the teens in my room to think about their own early childhood experiences with books so I had them do a quick write on: Cite three memories you have about being read to when you were a young child (about the age of 4).

And of course, I got the hands shooting up… “But what if you don’t have any memories of being read to, Mr. Alan?”

Now whodda thunk that the kids with that question floating around in their heads were some of the kids with the lowest skills in my English class 10 years later? Must be a coincidence that these are my most “at-risk” students, right? I mean these kids are still trying to play catch up for the work that was never done before they even really entered “official” school. (I am thinking kindergarden as “official” because pre-school is not mandatory and thus, so, so, so many of the lower-economic students I teach never went to pre-k.)

And speaking of pre-K, my own daughter will, of course, enter kindergarden with two full years of pre-K in her belt (a private school, of course) — and at least 1-2 books a night having been read to her since the moment her dendrites started to form. (Okay, I am a weirdo and used to read to my daughter in the womb… laugh away but I drank the kool-aid on the value of reading long, long ago!)

So, for class homework on March 2? Go find a little kid that needs reading to. Cousin. sister or brother. Neighbor. They are plenty of little munchkins floating around Lynwood. It’s yet another way that I explain the importance of books and reading and literacy to my students over the course of the year. Hopefully, it will be a lesson they will value and pass on to the next generation when that time comes.

Perhaps they’ll even be womb readers!!

Happy Birthday Theodore Geisel (that was the real name of Dr. Seuss). Your work has shaped mine forever.

You are my Homeboy!

We all know that bringing in young, energetic, enthusiastic teachers is critical to the success of American public education – especially in the future. Why? Because the law of nature dictates that nurturing youthful seeds is the way to eventually build healthy, well-developed gardens.

And yet, America is dropping the educational ball on this front. Egregiously.

When the pink slips get distributed and the ax chops, who are the first to go? Our youngest teachers. Why? Because in school today we value duration of service over quality of service. (And no, I am not usually a union basher but on this matter, they don’t really make the best case in my opinion. Quality of service should count more than years of service and it’s a falsehood to automatically equate one – time spent teaching – with the other… excellence of teaching.)

Furthermore, let’s look at some of the more practical aspects of working… like the paycheck one takes home.

Last year my district cut our pay by 3%. Next year they are talking about us taking another 10% pay cut.

A 13% pay cut in two years? Not the best way to either retain or attract talent, I’d say.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. What would most people say to the Harvard Valedictorian if they informed the world that they were going to become a middle school English teacher? Not an esteemed professor. Not national leader. Not even a wretched, ink-stained author. (The most reprehensible of ‘em all, when you think of it – LOL!)

The answer would be, “A mere middle school teacher? But why?”

It’s getting harder to answer that question these days and if you re-read this blog post in the year 2020, well… don’t say “We never told ya so.”