Follow-up to "One Room Schoolhouse
Just had to get this off my chest.
Ten years ago I was writing about my LAUSD pilot school. I thought then--and still do--that pilot schools are one of the clumsy, desperate responses our district has concocted to compete with the school choice pandemic. We were doing things to our students because politicians and economists and school reformsters valued those things, not because we thought they were good for our kids.
I was frustrated, and I saw the betrayal of public schools--even the idea of public schooling--as a part of something bigger: the abandonment of the fundamental notion of a commons, a shared space with shared institutions on which we all relied, and which we all supported.
From what I wrote back then, continued...
From before the founding of the country up into the early 20th century, many communities with scant resources and scant populations nevertheless sacrificed to hire a teacher. That teacher, working with students of different ages and skill levels, would be successful if most students eventually learned to read and cipher. Students were being prepared to take their places in their local communities.
Today, every student is expected to graduate from high school ready to attend college, and the official goals of our superintendent and school board are:
- one hundred percent graduation,
- one hundred percent attendance,
- one hundred percent “proficiency.”
Leaving aside the question of how a school can demand that one hundred percent of its students attend one hundred percent of the time (“Sorry, Kid, no doctor visits for you!”), and the question of what implausible expectations do to kids and their doomed-to-fail schools, let’s take up the issue of proficiency.
Proficiency is determined by student performance on state mandated assessments having enormous consequences for schools and teachers and no stakes whatsoever for students. That’s right. What many people beating the testing drum ignore, and what most people not immersed in education don’t understand, don’t even know, is that the test scores you read about in the newspaper have no impact on students at all. Zero. We take a week or ten days every year to administer these tests and when a student asks what effect the score will have on her or his grade, we must say, “None.”
But that doesn’t mean that the testing doesn’t impact them in some very real ways. This year alone my students will take a Periodic Assessment, a Preliminary Scholastic Aptitude Test, the California High School Exit Exam Diagnostic, and two more Periodic Assessments. Each of these tests takes at least a day, sometimes two or three.
The California Standards Test, the one that doesn’t count for them but really counts for me, looms in the spring. One of the standards tested on the California Standards Test requires students to “[e]valuate the aesthetic qualities of style, including the impact of diction and figurative language on tone, mood, and theme, using the terminology of literary criticism,” (!) Another demands they “analyze the way in which a work of literature is related to the themes and issues of its historical period.” And that’s just two standards out of more than sixty. Ten pages! I wonder what my students will think of me when they see the this test.
What they will know, however, is that the tests don’t care how long you’ve been in the country, or if all your teachers have been subs, or if you’ve moved schools twice already this year. The tests don't care. Do we?
From the outside, my school could be mistaken for a palace of learning. We are in a new, famously–outrageously–expensive facility. But on the inside we’re a tiny operation with a few hundred students and barely enough staff to offer the courses the state requires for graduation. We have one counselor for more than five hundred students. We have a Special Education Department that does IEPs(Individualized Educational Programs) and, generally, the best they can in serving the 50+ special education students we have. However, we have no ESL Department at all–which means virtually no support for English learners like Fernando and his friends.
So, the job we are given is next to impossible, though to say so means being labeled anti-reform or burnt out or worse. I look at Fernando and his friends and Jose and Song and I wonder what kind of sense they will make of the book I am handing out today. On the subatomic level of my classroom, sitting face to faces, I see excitement, frustration, surrender, and I'm glad I know how to help make sense of it for them--even with them--but it is not the same.
And then I think about the tests they will be facing without my help. I think about their test scores and how I will be responsible for numbers that have been years in the making, and how those numbers will be used to make judgments about my students. Used to condemn me, and my school, and all schools like mine.
For suggesting that our model of "test, rinse, repeat" does not serve our students, I have been accused of not believing in them because of the needs they have, the countries where they were born, the languages they speak. Irony is one of our vocabulary words. Ironía. Irónico.
I look around my room between books 17 and 18 and I keep thinking that it shouldn’t be this way. These kids should not be trapped in a you-figure-it-out-don’t-forget-the-test-is-next-week system that says to them it doesn't matter where you started, you all have to end up at the same place on testing day. It's a system that only pretends to care about them as long as they don’t cost too much.
And I look into the faces of these Korean and Salvadoran and American kids who have one parent or two parents, or none, and who read Shakespeare or Stephanie Meyer, or Harry Potter or not at all, and I see the face of the country. What, besides the four walls of this room, will hold them together? I look down at my battered copy of the book we’ll be exploring together over the next six weeks. I love this book and I want them to love it, too. But I am lost, lost in one room.
I looked around and saw a bigger picture. It was not a pretty one.
That was over ten years ago. When I wrote all that, Citizens United was still an open wound and George Floyd was still alive. It was before COVID. Before Donald Trump. Before my "partners in democracy" decided that democracy was unnecessary and, in fact, was an obstacle. Back when it looked like things were really bad, but before we got to today.It’s the end of public schools, and it’s no accident. Most people think they know about schools and how they work because they went to school. They want their money’s worth, and they’re constantly being told they’re being cheated. They think schools are bloated and broken, and they have the newspaper articles and test scores (and articles about test scores) to prove it.
Teach For America will tell them what’s really going on inside schools so they don’t have to visit and talk to students and really observe teachers and find out for themselves. Then, without having to get their hands dirty, they can do what they wanted to do all along. And everyone will say we did it for the children.
They talk about who’s to blame (who do you think?), and they try to break the unions (in Los Angeles it’s already broken, though most people haven’t noticed it yet). They cite examples of “schools that work,” gushing about KIPP and the Harlem Children’s Zone.
With no one to speak against it, the transformation will be complete. The schools will be entirely and finally a business, just like everything else. And some people will get richer. Free market schools will do what free market everything does: A few people drive Bentleys, some take the train, lots of people have to walk, and many just stay home.
The school destroyers call it No Child Left Behind or Race to the Top. They preach value-added and merit pay. They shout "public school choice!" and charter schools or, as in my case, pilot schools.
I look at my classroom full of kids--soon to be a lot fuller as thousands more teachers are slated to disappear next year--and I wonder what kind of a place we are shoving off on them. It feels like a kind of false advertising, all this “get an education, get a job” and “land of the free” and “created equal” stuff.
And it’s not like schools are a special case. It’s pretty much the end of public everything. Things do fall apart. A country may be like a marriage: born out of passion but requiring work and understanding and constant compromise and adaptation in order to survive. Sometimes spouses grow in different directions and they begin to want different things out of the marriage.
I think about my partners in democracy and I want to say, “You’ve changed. I want constitutional protections against unreasonable searches, against indefinite detention, and I thought you wanted that, too. I want a fair, progressive income tax. I want women to choose. I want public schools where kids feel safe and served and where they laugh and I laugh with them as they grow into American thinkers. I thought you wanted that, too.”
We don’t really do anything as a country anymore. Public libraries are closing. The post office is dissolving before our eyes. Social Security and Medicare are under attack by people we elect while our wars are fought by people we almost never know, many of them working for companies we’ve never heard of. When I was in school, I was taught that the government, the “we the people” and all that, was designed to be the collective voice of all Americans and the mechanism by which we advocate for our interests. But, as we know, (thanks to Citizens United?) some voices are more equal than others.
Is it any wonder that I and so many of my colleagues feel attacked and abandoned at the same time? Attacked by powerful forces with a huge stake in demonizing public education and educators. There’s money in them thar schools! Abandoned by a public that once supported the notion of truly public schools, a public that now retreats into the convenience of the dominant narrative because they’ll believe anything as long as it doesn’t challenge their preconceptions or cost them anything.
Me, I just want to teach without having to read every day what an asshole I am.
All the bad things we were facing then have gotten worse, including all the school things. This ongoing destruction of institutions--and of public schooling specifically--is the project of hostile actors.
The testing, school choice in the form of vouchers and charter schools, expanded mandates with diminished resources, these are not falling from the sky. They are happening because someone is doing them and these enemies have names.
They are testing companies, school-choicers, think tanks, politicians who are afraid to stand up for authentic public schools, afraid to tell their constituents the truth about education: that it is hard and expensive. It is not measured easily. And you may not get your money's worth this fiscal quarter, or ever.
The enemies are free-marketeers who value efficiency and market share, return on investment instead of kids. They strategize to turn teachers into the enemy and teachers unions into dust. They are “who me?” racists and book banners and people who fear and hate the trans kids they don’t understand. They are Christofascists and parental rightsers whose ambition is to take away the rights of others.
I've written before that I spent my career in a silo, hammered by forces I could feel but not identify, unable to resist or fully understand their true nature. The picture is clearer from outside the storm.
It can seem overwhelming and impossible to fight every fight, but what else is there to do? Besides, teachers are accustomed to fighting the good fight even when they know it's a lost cause. One hundred percent proficiency is a pipe dream, but that doesn't stop us from trying anyway.
And, for the record, UTLA is not broken. It's not perfect, but in 2019 we had a successful strike and made a positive difference in our schools. In fact, teachers unions are among the loudest voices speaking against the capitalist free market model of schooling. That's one of the reasons the reformsters* hate us so much.
They will continue to create schools for the privileged, schools that segregate, and they'll call it school choice. They will demonize teachers and their unions, enforce policies that degrade and destroy schools, and drive teachers out of the business. They will destroy public schooling. If we let them.
*h/t Peter Greene
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