Get ready to see a cheer from those who oppose any type of student data used to evaluate teachers after a report by the Economic Policy Institute is released late Sunday.  The report titled, “Problems with the use of student test scores to evaluate teachers,” is already being heralded by anti-test groups like Fair Test.  The report is actually a nod to policies  like SB191 which state that student data should only play a part in teacher evaluation.  This is something that I and other supporters emphasized in our support of the bill.  The report says:

“A review of the technical evidence leads us to conclude that, although standardized test scores of students are one piece of information for school leaders to use to make judgments about teacher effectiveness, such scores should be only a part of an overall comprehensive evaluation.”

The report goes on to conclude:

” What is now necessary is a comprehensive system that gives teachers the guidance and feedback, supportive leadership, and working conditions to improve their performance, and that permits schools to remove persistently ineffective teachers without distorting the entire instructional program by imposing a flawed system of standardized quantification of teacher quality.”

I am good with that.

Larry Ferlazzo, who blogs for the Teachers Leader Network, describes such an evaluation system currently in place at his high school in CA.  In his blog (as covered by the Washington Post) Ferlazzo describes an evaluation process that is not done “to” teachers, instead it is done “with” teachers.  This includes the use of student data that does not drive instruction, but it informs instruction.  (I have  stopped using the term “data” and in its stead use the term “information,” as “data” has grown into a controversial topic, even an impediment for discussion with many teachers).

Ferlazzo goes on to describe how his school uses multiple forms and types of data that should inform one’s practice.  When Ferlazzo had a year of poor test results, the administration did not rush in with punitive measures.  They looked at possible mitigating reasons, evaluated whether additional resources were needed and kept up with his usual yearly observations.  The following year his students were back at prior year’s levels.

Ferlazzo also relies on colleagues, students, and parents for feedback.  Colleagues observe his class on a regular basis, providing feedback on the learning taking place.  Note that the feedback is on the learning and not the teaching.  Ferlazzo also relies on something that I see missing in many teachers: self-reflection.  Ferlazzo asks himself a question that Robert Marzzano asks of teachers: If I was a student would I want you as my teacher?

Ferlazzo sums up his take on evaluating teachers:

“[Evaluations] underscore the importance of providing resources so well-prepared administrators have more time to observe teachers – of making sure teachers have regular opportunities to observe each other and give constructive feedback – of giving educators common time to prepare and evaluate assessments that show higher-level thinking skills – of making it possible for all school staff to engage more with parents. These are the ways we can help teachers become the best that they can be.”

Popularity: 10% [?]

Cross-posted from the ‘Failing Schools’ blog

This statement probably won’t surprise anyone who knows me, but I think about words a lot. Given the kind of work I do, and the places where I do it, I think about the word “failure” all the time.

I hate it.

As a lifelong perfectionist and overachiever, I’ve spent more than my fair share of time trying to avoid it. But when I decided to become a teacher, and especially once I decided to work with kids in poor communities, that became impossible. There’s the constant discussion of failure by people outside of the community: “Oh, those schools are awful. They always fail the state tests.” “Someone should really do something about those failing schools.” There’s the labeling of teachers and students: “Oh, it’s no wonder those students are failing. Look at the teachers they have!” There’s the labeling of public schools in general: “There’s a crisis in America’s public schools! The schools are failing our children!”

And of course, there are the feelings of failure: “I’m never going to get [any of a laundry list of tasks] done.” “I hate the way I handled that. I need to apologize.” “I wish I could have…”

But the one place I never actually see any failure is in the children. Sure, I’ve met plenty of kids who don’t test well, or have any of a number of “issues” some adult or another would love to wring out of them. But of the 200+ students I’ve tutored, taught, or mentored, I’ve never met a single one I’d consider a failure. I’ve never met a child I thought was stupid or deficient in any way. When you see children every day, and get to know them as whole people, there is always evidence that they’re capable of more than we assume at first glance.

The child who flunks all of the math tests may be a phenomenal cashier during a fundraiser, easily making change, multiplying and dividing with decimals in his head. The child who can’t write might be able to express her ideas very clearly if she’s allowed to draw or speak out loud. The child who might not have the quickest oral reading fluency scores may be making rich and meaningful connections to written text, if I’m willing to respect his slightly slower pace. Seeing that, I started to question whether it’s really possible that students as young as mine could fail. At least, I wondered if it was possible that they could fail all on their own, given how many other people have an influence on what they do.

If I give a math test, and 70% of my students fail, did they fail, or did I? I’m thinking it’s the latter. I may not have modeled or explained the concepts well enough, or given enough independent practice time. Maybe the test I gave didn’t test what I thought it did. Maybe some students needed to show what they could do in a different format. Maybe others needed an extra day of review.

Then I started thinking, “Well, what about me? If I work for 12 hours, sometimes more, five or six days a week, and never actually get done, am I a failure? Or is something else going on here?” I started to question how I’d been thinking of myself, and some of my colleagues. Is that teacher bad or lazy because she leaves earlier than I do? Sure, she’s not doing all the glitzy things I am, but she’s got her own children and a husband to whom she’s responsible. Is there something wrong with us, lowly teachers in a failing school, because we struggle to keep up with everything that’s required of us?

Take last year as an example. On any given day, I could be called upon to attend a faculty meeting, and a grade level meeting, and a data team meeting, and a parent conference, as well as provide food for a hungry child, help resolve a conflict, provide a safe space for children who are frightened or angry, break up a fight, report suspicions of child abuse or neglect, investigate petty crimes (stealing is huge), avail my classroom to people investigating less-than-petty crimes (Drugs? Weapons? In 5th grade? Yup!), respond to–ahem– inappropriate behavior at recess, tend to injuries (a full-time school nurse is apparently a luxury these days), dry tears, boost sagging self-esteem, maintain bodies of evidence for myself and my students, prepare lessons, prepare materials for the lessons, buy materials for those lessons, grade assignments, administer assessments, attend professional development sessions, give a presentation for others’ professional development…and, you know, teach. Fully differentiated instruction, in several different subjects, for 32 students, whose Data tell me that their performance levels span from kindergarten to 8th grade.

And I’m happy to do it all (provided I don’t have to fight crummy leadership at the same time…). Like Maria, I made a conscious choice to align my work with my values, which means serving these children. I don’t do this because there’s nothing else I can do (not to brag, but I’m a talented lady!), but because I feel it’s one of the best things I can do.

But it takes a village to raise a child. If I’m simultaneously doing my own job, and picking up the slack of five or six other villagers (nurse, social worker, role model, valet, therapist, nanny…), is it really fair to label me a failure if I can’t do all of those jobs exceptionally well?

In light of that, I started to think about this “failing schools” jive differently. Failure is still an uncomfortable concept, but if we’re going to brandish the term so frequently, then I think we ought to really dig into it. Get up close, and examine it. Think about all of its implications, not just the convenient news-hour sound-bytes.

Thus, our clunky, branding-disaster of a title. Yeah, we know. But we take it on anyway, and hope you will too. “What is a ‘failing’ school?” “What does it mean to fail?” “Who’s failing?” “Are schools failing, or are we failing schools?” It’s uncomfortable at times (though there are so many things going right in our ‘failing schools’, and we will share those, too!). But we want to provoke you to think, and question, and empathize, and get angry, and celebrate, and work for something better.

‘Cause that’s what good teachers do.

Popularity: 15% [?]

“The CSAPs are here! The CSAPs are here!” Or more accurately, “The CSAPs have been here, we just waited two weeks to let you see them!”

I saw my school CSAP results a few weeks ago. Why the delay in their release to the public? Nefarious politics at play? Quite frankly I don’t care. What concerns me most is the way schools and districts respond to the results.

Picture district administrators, principals, and teachers pouring over the CSAP results as if they were checking lottery numbers and asking, “How’d we do?” As if it was a crap shoot. A better metaphor for CSAPs is an autopsy. When you perform an autopsy you already know the person is dead, you want to try and figure out what killed them. It’s too late to do anything for the dead person! Well, it’s too late to do anything for those students who took the CSAP. Let’s shrug our shoulders and hope we do better next year.

In education jargon, CSAPs are summative assessments. Summative assessments are end of the unit, or end of the semester assessments that should show what a student knows or is able to do at a given point and time. We usually assign grades based on summative assessments. There is no going back to remediate based on summative assessments.

Another type of assessment and as the research points out, a more effective one is the formative assessment. Formative assessments are used to see how a student is progressing and based on the results what, if any, remediation needs to be done to get the student on track to proficiency.

Instead of an autopsy, formative assessments are checkups. The research tells us that formative assessments, and the appropriate response to their results, are the MOST effective way to improve student achievement. Why am I boring you with this explanation? Because CSAP results should not be a surprise for any school.

If a school is using formative assessments properly they should be able to predict, with some certainty, how their students will perform. If there is a discrepancy between the CSAP results and the formative results a disconnect exists between what the school expects the students to know and what the state expects. Or there may be a problem with the school’s formative assessments. These two issues can be rectified if, and that is a big if, schools are using formative assessments.

I am not arguing for the elimination of CSAPs; they are used to hold schools accountable. The public has a right to know how schools are performing. I question the focus that districts and schools place on them as ways to improve student achievement. You’d be a fool not to take them seriously. But the results should support what you already know.

Here’s a report I’d like to see from the state: How did schools perform on CSAP based on a school’s prediction? The closer the correlation and I would argue the better schools perform.

It is one thing to know what ails you when you are alive; it’s another to find out after you are dead and gone.

Popularity: 34% [?]