One boy said it was his first year in middle school and he loved it. “What elementary school did you go to?” I asked.
“Davis,” he said. Davis was not too far away.
“How is this school, the same or different?” I asked.
“Well,” he said, “the teachers here really teach us. They push us hard to think outside of the box.”
“Outside the box”? From a sixth grader?
I said good-bye to the children and made my way into the library. Because I had been holding listening sessions for some time, I could pretty quickly get the vibe on a group of teachers. I knew if they were a happy bunch, a bitter one, angry, and so on. This group was anxious. I could feel it.
I went out of my way to praise them for everything that I’d seen. The academic achievement growth was astounding, but more impressive was the culture that they had instilled in the school. To ease the anxiety a bit, I said, “Look, you all saw huge academic gains last year. That was great, but please don’t think we expect that kind of growth year in and year out. That would be nearly impossible. From this point forward if we saw three- to five-point gains a year that would be a real feat.”
It didn’t work. They were unmoved.
“I don’t think you get it,” one teacher explained after a lull in the conversation. “The horse is out of the barn with the children in this school. They’re obsessed. Three- to five-point gains might be good enough for you, but they’re shooting for twenty again. And they’re serious.”
She said her students kept track of their progress every week. The kids who were blue—advanced—were celebrated. For kids not doing as well, there was peer pressure for them to work harder. She said her students wouldn’t accept worksheets anymore. They rejected them. The expectation on their end was that they had to have an interesting, engaging lesson every single day.
“If you really want to help us,” she said, “then give us more access to lesson and unit plans!”
Fascinating. For all the talk of my being the “Dragon Lady” and worrying that these teachers were afraid of me, the pressure was not coming from above. The teachers were feeling the heat to perform all right, but it was coming from the kids. The children had gotten a taste of what it meant to be in a great school environment every day, and they were demanding more.
The students were driving the reform at Sousa just as they were from the Student Cabinet.
THE STUDENT CABINET WEIGHED in on everything from school security issues to challenges with food services—even media and communications. But we spent a significant amount of time on our “Teaching and Learning Framework” and the teacher evaluation system. I remember the meeting where we introduced IMPACT, our new teacher evaluation process. The kids listened very carefully. We asked them to read some materials to prepare for the meeting. When it came time to give feedback, their thoughts were very specific.
“This is great,” said Ally. “I absolutely think it makes sense for teachers to know what is expected of them.”
“But,” Thomas chimed in, “you’re missing something major. Us. No one knows better what’s going on in the classroom than students. We’re there every minute of every day. You need to hear from us.”
“Yeah,” said Max, “he’s right. We know that when our principals come in the room or the outsiders show up to observe, sometimes the teachers start doing things they never do! It’s like ‘who are you and what did you do with our teacher?’ ”
The other kids laughed.
“It can happen the other way, too,” said Sarai. “You can have a great teacher who is fabulous but just gets really nervous when the evaluator walks in. We have a much better sense of how that teacher performs every day.”
“So what are you suggesting?” I asked. “Should we make student feedback part of how a teacher is evaluated?”
“Yes!” shouted a group of kids.
“Hmmm . . . I’m not so sure,” Kara said. “We have some real knuckleheads in our school. Kids who just make it hard for teachers to teach and kids to learn.”
She said these kids would probably give the good teachers bad ratings just because the best teachers are hard! They give tons of homework and don’t let kids slack. If those kids are giving the good teachers poor evaluations for those reasons, it wouldn’t be fair.
Some kids nodded in agreement.
“Yeah, but there are more good kids than bad kids, so I think it would even out,” said Isaiah.
“Well, let’s give it a try!” I said.
I proposed that the cabinet take on a project where they researched the prospect of students evaluating teachers. Peggy O’Brien, our head of Family and Public Engagement, and Kaitlin McKee, a communications specialist who was a former teacher, led the charge. They worked with the kids to develop potential questions for a survey. The students would then field-test it and make recommendations based on what they found. The kids loved the idea and spent a significant amount of time over the next few months doing the work. They split up into groups, each of which was responsible for putting together a presentation for me and my senior staff. They did a great job.
“We were worried,” they said, “that the boneheaded kids might skew the evaluations and rank the easier teachers high, just because they’re easier, not better, but we found that that was not the case.”
They found that they had underestimated their peers. People did a pretty good job of putting aside their personal feelings, and they rated teachers very consistently.
“What was interesting,” said Ally, “was that I think the best teachers were the most open to getting feedback. Obviously, we didn’t want to do this without teachers’ permission.”
She said that her group found that the good teachers really were excited about implementing the survey, but the weaker teachers were less open to it. The students did such a good job and made such a strong case that as I was leaving DCPS, the school system considered a pilot project the following year to gather student feedback on teachers.
Our students were ahead of the curve. Evidence from a recent study of teaching by the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation showed that students know a great teacher when they see one. The foundation’s “Measures of Effective Teaching” (MET) project studied student feedback through surveys on teacher evaluations. The study found that there is a very strong correlation between how students rate their teachers and how well those teachers do at attaining gains in student achievement. Students can tell us with pretty good accuracy whether their teachers are effective. Many who underestimate students would guess that kids would dislike teachers who might be good ones, but were strict or gave a lot of homework. As it turns out, children can effectively synthesize information about their teachers without a lot of bias, and on the whole, they can identify great teachers.
The MET study recommended that states and districts consider adding student input to teacher evaluations.
WHAT DOES THIS MEAN on a practical level? Well, it doesn’t mean that children should be running schools or districts. But it does mean that we should be very serious about engaging them in the process of improving our schools.
As we debate the need to revamp teacher evaluation systems across the country, I would advocate for a portion of the evaluation to be based on the views of students and parents. For younger children, parents might offer valuable assessments. As students gain age and maturity, they could add value to evaluations of teacher performance.
Radical? Why not?
In many ways I think that’s what it’s going to take to change the dynamic in our country. The children who are in our schools every day, who know how critical it is to their experience to have a great teacher, who are the subjects of the various reforms we put in place—they should have a much greater voice in what happens in school reform.
If my experience with students from Harlem Park to Anacostia to Sousa is any indication, the children will be much more reasonable, respectful, and right about what needs to be done.
It�
�s time we adults listened.
10
Empowering Parents
Two Moms Desperate for Your Help” read the subject line of the email that came my way in September 2010. How could I not open it? The few weeks directly following the defeat of my boss, Adrian Fenty, in his reelection bid for mayor, had been a whirlwind. I was trying to figure out the next step in my career. My work in education reform was far from done. In fact, I felt like it was just starting. I just didn’t know how to proceed. I opened the email with great curiosity.
“We read that you may be leaving Washington, D.C.,” it said. “Whatever you decide to do, you have to stay in the fight!” It was from two mothers who lived in Naples, Florida. They had grown frustrated with the poor quality of schools in their community and decided to do something about it. Both moms had young children, but their biggest concern was Lely High School, their neighborhood school. Lely was rated a “D” on the state report card enacted by Governor Jeb Bush in 2005. Only 22 percent of tenth graders were at grade-level proficiency in reading in 2009, and there was no sign that anything was going to change.
Their plea was familiar to me. Parents from tough neighborhoods in D.C. had appealed to me to come up with ways to get their kids into schools that would give them a better chance at success in life. Here were parents from a thriving town on Florida’s Gulf Coast presenting me with the same conundrum. Clearly, parents beyond D.C.’s borders were yearning for change, too.
Jane Watt and Jody Barrett knew that their kids might struggle to compete in college if they went to Lely. And that was if they were lucky enough to get into college. So the moms decided to start a charter high school. They had recruited hundreds of volunteers, found a campus for the new school on Marco Island, written the school’s charter and budget, and developed the curriculum for the school’s focus on math, science, technology, and environmental studies. They had followed all of the rules and regulations required to open Marco Island’s first charter high school.
The school district was not pleased. Fearing the new charter school might have a negative impact on enrollment at Lely, school and state officials started trying to squelch Marco Island Academy. First, they asked for cumbersome additional details that went beyond what was required in the application process. Next, the district refused to cooperate in providing information so that the academy could start recruiting students. When those issues were cleared up, the district’s concerns focused on a bird’s nest that was seen on the potential site and the need to protect the environment, despite the fact that environmentalists said the birds and kids could coexist.
But what could I do for them? Honestly, I didn’t have any idea. But they seemed so desperate and just wanted to do right by their kids, so I called them.
“I read your email and very much admire what you’re trying to do.” I said. “I also know that the district is going to continue to do everything it can to stop you from starting this school. It’s the way most districts operate.”
“But what they’re doing is wrong,” said Jane. “And some of it is against the policy of how they’re supposed to be operating.”
“I know,” I said, “but there’s no accountability. Trust me, their goal is to make this so hard for you that you give up.”
“I can’t believe this,” Jody said. “We’ve worked so hard. And all we want is a high-performing school for our children. Is that too much to ask?”
“It isn’t,” I said, “but unfortunately, it’s how things work. I’m really sorry. I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings. I just don’t think there’s anything I can do to help.”
“But what if you came here and created a ruckus?” Jody asked. “What if you were the accountability? If you came out here, the media would be all over it. You could show how crazy this is and how the district is blocking us. That would be embarrassing to them. It’s the only thing that might get them to do the right thing. Shame them into it.”
That conversation and the predicament those mothers faced stuck in my mind.
“Create a ruckus”? “Shame them into it”? Bring attention to a clear example of how adults—in this case school district officials—were working to close off an opportunity for students?
No, I could not swoop in and persuade that school district to clear the way for one particular charter school. But what if there were potential parent activists across the country who were frustrated with local laws and policies that favored adults over children? What if we could ignite a movement that would allow me to “create a ruckus” for reform, but backed by hundreds of thousands of parents?
Jane and Jody persevered. They started Marco Island Academy, and after its first year, it’s showing promise. The academic achievement levels are already above state and district averages. It is outperforming Lely by nearly 20 percentage points in reading. Though there’s still a long way to go, they’re off to a strong start. Through their courage, these two moms created better learning outcomes for the kids.
Even before the idea to create StudentsFirst came into being, parents such as Jane and Jody helped sow the seeds of a movement.
DURING MY LAST WEEKS as chancellor in D.C. and in the time soon after my resignation, I was inundated with emails and pleas from all across the country just like the one from Jane and Jody. I heard from parents who were focused on ensuring that their kids were getting the education they deserved. Others were frustrated with their system’s inability, or disinterest, in helping their children. They were reaching out to me in hopes of finding a solution. “What should I do?” was usually how the emails ended.
It struck me that there were so many parents in every corner of the country who were ready to confront the difficulties their children were facing in the public schools. The emails came from parents in urban communities and rural ones. From Democrats and Republicans. From hyperengaged parents in the PTA and those who were just getting involved. But what they all had in common was anger that public schools, funded by their tax dollars, were denying opportunities for their children and their neighbors’ kids, too. They were furious that many officials in charge were at best ignoring them and at worst working against them to maintain the status quo. And they were looking for somewhere to turn.
I had an email exchange with one father from Southern California that perfectly illustrated the dilemma. The dad wrote to me about his son, a second grader who the dad admitted was a bit of a handful. They’d faced many challenges throughout his short schooling life. However, his son was fortunate enough to have a wonderful second-grade teacher.
“This teacher changed my son’s life,” the dad wrote. “She challenges him, engages him, and is extraordinarily patient with him, as well. Now my son wakes up every day excited about going to school.”
This dad went on to express his bewilderment that when the school had to lay off teachers, his son’s teacher was handed a pink slip because she was a relatively new teacher. “How does this make any sense?” he asked. “There’s another teacher that has been at this school for more than a decade who is awful. All of us parents work hard to navigate around her and make sure our kids are in other classes. If we have to lose someone, why can’t it be her?”
When I asked this father what he planned to do, his ideas were as follows: (1) go to the principal and fight to get his son put in another class; (2) apply to one of the charter schools in the area and hope they might gain admission; (3) explore private schools; and (4) move to a different neighborhood with a better school.
It was very clear to me in talking with this father that he was very engaged in his child’s education and also really wanted to keep sending his kid to the neighborhood public school. When faced with this unfortunate situation, though, his thinking about the solutions was parochial. He was 100 percent focused on fixing the situation for his child, which is very understandable. However, what parents need to understand is that if they concentrate only on fixing the problem for their own child, the problem will arise again for their next child, and t
heir neighbor’s child, and then one who lives a few doors down.
Parents must begin to see their role in changing the laws and policies at the district and state level so that they can solve the problem once and for all. For all kids.
What parents lack has been a way to organize, to find others to effect change alongside them. I began to realize that parents from one city and county to the next, from one state to another, didn’t realize that they had common problems. They were fighting tiny skirmishes to improve their own kids’ situations. What if they had a way to communicate, to join forces and lobby for broader changes, and to realize that their desire for better public schools was shared by parents from the Atlantic to the Pacific?
The power of a million parents could be an awesome force for change. When joined by concerned teachers and members of the community, that kind of movement would be unstoppable. That’s why we started StudentsFirst.
FOR MANY PARENTS, THIS isn’t an abstract question. Their children are in dire situations. So these parents are mobilizing for change, fighting for the lives and futures of their children and their communities. Their voices and actions have led to legislative changes throughout the country that would have been unfathomable just five years ago.
Take LaQueta Worley, Sharon Irby, and Cheryl Mays, from Cleveland. Cleveland’s schools are the worst in the state and among the worst in the nation. According to the last National Assessment for Education Progress (NAEP) tests, only 12 percent of Cleveland’s fourth graders were able to do math at grade level. In the last six years, Cleveland schools have made little progress. Parents, community leaders, and some politicians said, “Enough!” Mayor Frank Jackson began a dialogue in the community about what needed to change. Parents fed up with the poor results and lack of options for their kids began to rally.
Mayor Jackson, a liberal Democrat, and Ohio governor John Kasich, a conservative Republican, began to work with legislators to craft a bold plan to give the mayor more authority over the city’s ailing schools. The proposal called for the mayor to have the ability to hire and fire teachers and to evaluate them based largely on student achievement growth. The teachers unions balked and began a massive campaign to defeat the legislation.
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