November 2010 Archives

Dear Deborah,

I hope you and your family had a happy Thanksgiving, and I wish the same to all of our readers and friends.

The struggle for control of American education continues to evolve at a dizzying pace. I read that Bill Gates advised the Council of Chief State School Officers to eliminate seniority and tenure and recommended that schools stop spending to reduce class size and stop giving teachers extra money for master's degrees. He wants teachers to get paid based on "performance" (i.e., their test scores). I guess we are now seeing a full-court effort to impose the corporate model of school reform, and Gates is the leading spokesman.

No, wait, I take that back, Secretary of Education Arne Duncan said something very similar in a speech a day or two earlier, where he seemed almost happy to say that the days of wine and roses are over and schools must learn to do more with less. They seem to be sharing scripts. I don't know who is the leading spokesman.

I can imagine some of Secretary Duncan's predecessors, such as Secretary Shirley Hufstedler or Secretary Richard Riley or commissioners of education such as Frank Keppel or Harold Howe saying something very different. I can imagine them going to the public and urging them to support more resources where they are needed and more equitable funding. I can hear them saying that we need to thank our hard-working teachers, and we need a stronger profession. But Secretary Duncan likes to win plaudits from the people who love to cut education budgets. Go figure. The eerie similarity between Secretary Duncan and Bill Gates makes me wonder who is running the Department of Education.

Funny, about the same time I read Gates' demand to eliminate tenure (that is, the right to due process), I got a letter from a young teacher, expressing his concern about what was happening in his district. When I asked if I could post his letter on my website, he asked me not to use his name because he is untenured. This is not unusual. I have received hundreds of letters from teachers who have asked for anonymity, because they fear reprisals. Some are tenured, some are untenured.

Since Gates is a multibillionaire, he can't possibly understand what it means to work in an environment where you might be fired for disagreeing with your boss. Nor can he possibly understand that schools are collaborative cultures that need senior teachers who are ready and willing to help newcomers. He can't imagine that school is different from Microsoft or other big corporations. Let's be honest. CCSSO and The New York Times pay attention to what Gates says because he is so rich. If he didn't run the biggest foundation in the world, if he wasn't one of the richest men in the world, would anyone care about his opinion of education? Really, who would care what he said if he were the chairman of the Whatzit Corporation and sold widgets?

A couple of weeks ago, I was in Kansas City and spoke to the annual meeting of the Missouri NEA. Afterwards, as I was signing books, I spoke to teachers from across the state, from urban districts, small towns, and rural areas. They said things like, "Hi, I have been a teacher for 25 years, and I love it." "Hi, please sign this for my mother, she is a teacher, too." "Hi, I'm the third generation of teachers in my family." "Please sign this for my dad, he's a superintendent."

A few days later, I spoke to the Virginia School Boards Association. There were about 800 people, including school board members, superintendents, teachers, and retired teachers. Many of them had served their communities for more than 20 years. The ceremony began with a brief concert by a high school orchestra, consisting of about 12 or 14 youngsters. First, they played a classical piece, then they regrouped and played a knee-slapping number with lots of fiddling. The audience loved it. Then they played "The Star Spangled Banner," and everyone rose and all 800 people sang together. Deborah, I cried. Big tears rolled down my cheeks. It was beautiful.

As I looked at these groups, I thought: These are the people who teach our children, these are the members of the public who serve their local schools without compensation year after year. They and their children and their children's children will be here long after the corporate reform crowd has moved on and been forgotten.

These are the people on whom our public schools depend. They care deeply about their children, their communities, and their public schools. They don't get to speak to the Council of Chief State School Officers. They don't control billions of dollars. They won't be quoted in the New York Times. But these are the people who make our country work. I wish Bill Gates would get out and listen to them. They could tell him a thing or two.

Diane

P.S.: I see in the latest issue of Newsweek that Bill Gates considers me his biggest adversary. Now that's really funny! Him, with all those billions and a huge staff. Me, with a computer (an Apple, by the way) and a voice. In the end, what wins: Ideas or money? We'll see.

Posted by Diane Ravitch at 8:58 AM | Permalink | Leave a comment | Recommend

Bridging Differences is taking a break for the rest of Thanksgiving week. The blog will return with a piece from Diane Ravitch on Tuesday, Nov. 30. Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Posted by Mary-Ellen Phelps Deily at 9:25 AM | Permalink | Leave a comment | Recommend

Dear Deborah,

The reading and math scores for 12th grade students on the National Assessment of Education (NAEP) were just released, and they are unimpressive. Scores are no better than they were in the early 1990s. The achievement gap is unchanged.

I can hear the gnashing of teeth, the cries for more accountability, more charters, more this or more that. But not to worry. In fact, the 12th grade scores don't mean much. They probably mean nothing at all.

The National Assessment Governing Board (NAGB), which oversees NAEP, has known for years that 12th graders don't try to do well on the tests. The students know that the tests don't count, that there are no individual scores, that no one will ever know if they did well or poorly, and they are not motivated to do their best.

The public does not realize that NAEP is a sampling test, and it is not given to every student. They also don't realize that no student takes the entire test, only a portion of it. The seniors may not know that they are part of a national sample, but they know that this test will not affect their grades, their likelihood of graduating, or their plans after high school.

Unlike students in grades 4 and 8, students in grade 12 understand that their scores don't matter to their lives.

NAGB has done studies and convened a commission to study the problem of 12th grade student motivation, but has not devised an answer. (To learn more, Google "National Assessment Governing Board twelfth grade motivation NAEP".)

And that's why we should ignore the 12th grade NAEP scores. Unlike the SAT, the ACT, the end-of-course exams, the AP exams, and graduation exams, the NAEP tests don't matter. And seniors know it. They doodle on their test papers, or they select answers with a pattern, like all B, or all C, or ABCD/ABCD. Or they leave questions blank, without even bothering to make a guess.

The government should stop wasting money on this test in this grade, and the usual critics should turn their fire elsewhere.

Diane

Posted by Diane Ravitch at 9:52 AM | Permalink | Leave a comment | Recommend

Dear Diane,

I'm writing this from the West Coast following three days at the annual Fall Forum of the Coalition of Essential Schools. The big news is that we are moving forth—next year in Rhode Island! We are also in the process of rethinking and reinventing our mission and strategy—including, for starters, how we fund the network, especially at a time when the national school agenda is powerfully poised to dismiss any strategy that doesn't put test scores in the driver's seat. We're falling back on an old idea—the reforms we want must come from the bottom up first and foremost. Money, too. So we are confident that reminders to members, allies, and well-wishers will help us raise what we need to do the core of our work.

Among the forum speakers was Linda Darling-Hammond of Stanford University. She reminded us that, from the mid 1960s through the '70s, the decrease in poverty and the increase in school test scores went hand in hand. The widening of that gap once again coincided with the unraveling of the safety nets that are so much more robust in the countries that "outscore" us. The data Linda presented was as shocking to me as when I first heard it. If we look at wealth, not income, the correlation is even starker. It doesn't augur well for the future. But it poses an even stronger reason to see our schools as community agencies focused on the development of all the assets a community possesses. That includes using our minds well—at every age level.

Visits to local Bay Area schools helped create an atmosphere of hope for the 700-plus registered attendees, including lots of high school students who held their own sessions and joined in others, too. Coalition founder Ted Sizer had in mind creating five to 15 such schools representing every type of community when he started out. How would we know we had succeeded? The conversation would have changed.

Ted's widow, Nancy, also reminded us how much Ted treasured us all, how important his colleagues were to him, and how much his "design" plan flowed out of such respect for the minds of others. It was the quality that stood out for me when I read Horace's Compromise, and which characterized the best of the Coalition's work and vision: respect for others.

Nancy Sizer's remarks at the session's start last Thursday night reminded us of Ted Sizer's goal 25 years ago: to support the invention of enough good schools based on his "common principles" to prove it wasn't utopian: human beings of all colors, classes, and backgrounds could thrive in such schools without substantially increased resources—and demonstrate to all that their graduates "knew their stuff." He thought 15 of such schools would be grand. (More than a 100 still pay CES just to be "part of" the network!)

Oddly enough, as speaker after speaker at the Coalition forum noted, our language has become more widely used, but that message of respect has been drained out of the words.

Pedro Noguera's terrific opening speech challenged us to build an agenda that draws on what we share in common with others that helped rebuild a progressive coalition that neither under-rated the historic failure of schools to address the bottom half nor villainized schools and, above all, public schools for all the ills we face. Pedro always seems to be thinking aloud, carrying us along as his ideas unfold.

I gave my usual—never quite the same—session on play as the essential root of human intelligence, and how we can respond to the threat to not merely marginalize play, but eliminate it—at a cost none of us dare contemplate.

There was some grumbling about the conditions in some schools voiced here and there, of course, but the mood was up, hopeful. If President Obama seems uncertain of whether "we can," the Coalition gathering seemed determined to see the battles through even if it takes a few years—or even many years. That was easier to do with the substantial infusion of students at the forum from so many of our schools, and their articulateness about the lives they are living today—topped off by a Boston Arts Academy short play that left us moved and inspired Saturday afternoon.

Of course, Diane, your recent work was mentioned over and over again. It has done something few books can ever quite do: present, without rhetorical flourish, the difficult truth we face, while also arming ourselves with the stuff we need to overcome! So I hope you stay on the road every day, while I also hope you give yourself occasional pause. And during that pause I hope we can still untangle the national standards/curriculum/assessment "debate." Once again, a small elite has come to a "consensus" long before there has been any national debate. In the interests of our commitment to schools that foster democracy, how can we do a better job of including "the people" in the conversation? When Ted said he hoped to influence the "conversation," it's the latter he had in mind.

Deb

Posted by Deborah Meier at 9:02 AM | Permalink | Leave a comment | Recommend

Dear Deborah,

What an amazing week in New York City! I was babysitting my 4-year-old grandson on Nov. 9, when my cell phone starting ringing as reporters called to say that Joel Klein was stepping down as chancellor of the city's public schools. At first, I didn't believe it, because I had heard the rumor many times in the past. But this time, it was real. Mayor Michael Bloomberg announced at a press conference that Klein was leaving after eight years in office and would be replaced by a prominent business leader.

The mayor decided to replace Klein with Cathleen Black, the chairman of the Hearst Corporation. Unfortunately, Ms. Black has no education experience, but the mayor saw that as a plus. What he wanted was a manager, and education experience was not important.

I decided to write a blog about the history of the New York City superintendency, rather than join the chorus of people applauding or condemning the mayor's choice. Although the mayor believes that Klein served longer than any superintendent in the city's history, this is not accurate: Three served longer, one for 20 years, one for 11 years, and a third for 10 years. You can read the history here. The most startling fact is that New York City had five superintendents in the first half of the 20th century, and 18 superintendents in the second half!

Mayoral control, which was enacted by the New York state legislature in 2002, brought stability, but at a price. The price was that executive decisions are made without any democratic process. The central board became a rubber stamp for predetermined decisions. The voice of the public is routinely ignored. Last year, when thousands of parents and teachers appeared at a public hearing to oppose the closing of 19 schools, the acquiescent board listened impassively for hours, then voted at 3 a.m. (with only a single dissent, by the brave Patrick Sullivan, a public school parent and the Manhattan representative) to close them all. This year, the mayor will close more than 50 more schools, and he will again disregard any objections or protests. That's what mayoral control means in New York City. The public schools belong to the mayor. They are his, and he has no reason to heed anyone else's views.

That explains why he selected Cathleen Black to be the next chancellor. Ms. Black has been a very successful manager in the publishing world, but she has none of the educational credentials or teaching experience required by state law to become a school superintendent. Nor does she have the "exceptional training and experience" that would qualify her for a waiver from the formal requirements. None of this matters. The mayor wants her, and unless state Commissioner of Education David Steiner decides to take state law into account, she will be the next chancellor.

Parents and elected officials have been signing petitions (two parent petitions had collected more than 10,000 names as of this morning), holding press conferences, and doing whatever they can to rally opposition to the appointment of Ms. Black. If past experience is any guide, the mayor will ignore them, and he will have his way.

I feel sorry for Cathleen Black. This is a woman of great accomplishment in the business world. No doubt she is accustomed to receiving honors and accolades, not brickbats and ridicule. I wonder if she knows what she is getting herself into.

The mayor's selection of Black, and Klein before her, is part of a growing trend to turn education—at every level—over to non-professionals. An article in Crain's reports that nearly half the 28 superintendencies in big-city districts this year were awarded to graduates of the Broad Academy, which specializes in training outsiders. In the article, the executive director of the Broad Center said that the leader of a symphony orchestra doesn't have to be a concert violinist. This is true, if she meant to refer to the business manager of the orchestra. But the conductor of the orchestra (the person who "runs" it) must know how to read music and must know quite a lot about each of the instruments and how to bring them together to produce a beautiful sound. Without that skill set, the symphony will just be noise.

Diane

Posted by Diane Ravitch at 9:53 AM | Permalink | Leave a comment | Recommend

Dear Diane,

It was nice to see a few "old" (meaning both my age and people I've known for a long time) friends make it onto The Nation's list of the most influential "progressives" of the 20th century. Ancient history.

The Nation's listing also led me back to thinking about that word: Progressive. You and many of your present and former colleagues use the word in the one sense that I least identify with: the belief in efficiency as an end in itself, modernity, productivity, scientific management, etc.

But the use of the word as an approach to teaching/learning and the role of schooling as exemplified by John Dewey, Jean Piaget, the many distinguished women who led the early Bank Street explorations, et al stems from quite a different place. Of course, there were overlaps—just as sometimes there are today between Rick Hess and me; John Holt was, after all, "for" homeschooling and for "progressive" education. We cannot sacrifice either individualism to community or vice versa. That's a tension that democracy demands we negotiate, over and over and over. The revolution that took place between 1900 and 1950 was amazing, and schools are one place we see it most starkly. From a tiny percentage to more than two-thirds of the population attending high schools! As well as the enormous and very rapid expansion of our college system. But who was going to be "in charge" of making decisions about these rapidly expanding institutions and what purpose they would serve was up for grabs.

The progressive tradition that The Nation honors is in quite a different camp from the scientific management folks on the "who decides" question. Among the hard-core shared agreements that bound such progressives together were those that built the union movement. "Don't mourn, organize." "Solidarity forever." "There is power in our united voices." "The governed must govern." Or, as I used to say about Mission Hill and Central Park East: "It's an honor to be the principal—head teacher—of a school of strong teachers and parents. Who wants to brag about 'leading' a bunch of wimps!"

The school I went to was, amusingly, started as a free school for the children of working-class men and women—to build the habits of heart and mind necessary for exerting greater workplace influence (Ethical Culture schools). I say this with amusement because once a year we celebrated the founding of the school, which of course by the time I attended, was populated largely by students who were children of the owners, not the workers! But the school had an influence on us all and, in the end, the schools I started were an attempt to go back to those noble roots.

It was based on a faith, not requiring evidence, that every single person deserved respect. It was based on the assumption that each and every child born on the Earth "deserved" what the wealthiest believed essential for their own children.

In short, what concerns us, Diane, is not new, but part of some ancient issues that reappear over and over. Ted Sizer used to say that he wanted his own kids in schools where he could look the decision-makers in the eye and personally expect an answer, other than "I had to do it. THEY made me."

It's increasingly hard for us to raise our kids that way, but above all if we are not rich. And the charters—for which Ted had high hopes—mostly seem to represent the other kind of "progressivism"—the efficient boot-camp type.

That's bad for the kids, for democracy, and for our future prosperity and happiness. Since 1940—almost halfway through the 20th century—there were half as many citizens in the land and nearly 10 times as many school boards. Think of the ratio of folks who probably knew someone on one of those school boards in 1940 and the ratio of citizens to school board members today. Two different worlds. Ditto for the size of schools and their geographic reach. And they, like so many other local institutions, have less and less to say about their own work. In New York City, we have a mayor who is still modestly popular for his stewardship of the city—wrongly I think; but the same polls show he has lost "the people's" confidence as a school manager and lost by a larger margin the confidence of those who must or do send their children to public schools.

But there is no one to "look in the eye" between a single parent and the mayor. The teachers used to have their unions to protect them from the arbitrary whims of their supervisors and "the system." But the union has lost a great deal of power (it can't strike legally) in the past half-century. The only power it has left is "political"—and for that it has been tarred and feathered. We're just beginning to get the "other side" of the rubber-room story, and it's mostly drowned out by those who view parent and teacher organizing as the last hurrah of a bygone era, of selfish, self-interested politics!

So here we are trying to figure out how the education of our young can prepare or handicap our future citizens' capacity to reason together about what the future should be like, and it is not going to be easy.

Deborah

P.S. A week ago I went canvassing for votes in Hudson, N.Y. The votes have been counted, and I mostly lost. But how we respond to both winning and losing depends a lot on the habits we developed from our own families, communities, and—yes—schools!

Posted by Deborah Meier at 10:33 AM | Permalink | Leave a comment | Recommend

Dear Deborah,

The elections brought a barrage of bad news for supporters of public education. A number of governors and legislators were elected who support the corporate reform model. They will promote vouchers, charters, merit pay, more testing, tougher accountability, evaluating teachers by test scores, and anything else that is guaranteed to cause dissension and demoralization among the men and women who work in our nation's public schools. It's sad for teachers and administrators and will be catastrophic for the quality of education. The new superintendent of schools in Oklahoma was the founder of two charter schools; in her campaign, she pledged to defend the rights of homeschooling parents and opposed additional funding for public schools. No nation in the world, at least none that we wish to emulate, is engaged in doing what our "leaders" are doing. I can't say where all this is going, but it doesn't look promising for those who care about our nation's children and the quality of education that we provide them.

As you know, I have been traveling constantly this fall, speaking to teachers, administrators, school board members, parents, and researchers. Wherever I go, I try to learn something new and not just hear myself talk.

In New Orleans, I spoke at Dillard University, an HBCU (or historically black college or university). There, I heard from angry African-American parents and educators who felt disenfranchised by the charterizing of their public schools. The mainstream media may think that the chartering of New Orleans was a wonderful thing, but the audience that night did not. When a young woman (who was white) from the Cowen Institute at Tulane University defended the success of the charters in getting more students to pass AP exams, several people in the audience demanded to know why their non-charter schools were no longer allowed to offer AP courses. The young woman had no answer. Several people that night said: "They stole our public schools, and they stole our democracy while we were out of town."

Also in New Orleans, I spoke at the Grantmakers in Education conference, where I shared a panel with Ted Mitchell (the president of the California state board of education, the president of the NewSchools Venture Fund, and a board member of Green Dot charters and New Leaders for New Schools, etc.) and John Jackson, the president and chief executive officer of the Schott Foundation for Public Education. Mitchell spoke enthusiastically about the Obama-Duncan agenda, especially the Race to the Top, which promotes so many of the ideas in which he believes. John Jackson was brilliant in criticizing that agenda for "thinking small," dropping $50 million on KIPP to double the number of its charters from 99 to perhaps 200, and endowing Teach for America with $50 million when they add fewer than 10,000 teachers each year—teachers who agree to stay on the job for only two years in a profession that must add at least 300,000 teachers every single year. Jackson wondered why the administration was not planning a dramatic expansion of pre-K to all those who need it (a goal on which there is strong, positive research) or devoting resources to building a strong profession.

My favorite line from that day occurred when Jackson said he had recently visited some very high-performing nations. At each stop, he asked authorities: "What do you do about bad teachers?" They consistently replied: "We help them." He then asked: "What do you do when they don't improve?" They answered unhesitatingly: "We help them more."

Diane

Posted by Diane Ravitch at 8:48 AM | Permalink | Leave a comment | Recommend

Dear Diane,

Following up on our recent exchange leads me try to spell out where we stand with regard to another old disagreement on what you probably call National Standards and I call A National Curriculum: a requirement that all kids study the same things and thus that schools be held accountable for covering the same content year by year. It's what I understand the search for a set of national standards seeks to do—and then assess. Of course, if the assessment is not attached to high stakes (or even low ones!), many of my fears are mitigated—but then why do it?

Since you and I were both students of history (although I switched from studying history to studying 5-year-olds!), there is good reason for us to think aloud about "standards" in our field. (Actually, I feel the same about standards in other academic fields, too.)

Standards as a flag to lead us forth contrasts for me with standards as a way of standardizing our minds. (Readers can find much of what I say below in Will Standards Save Public Education? Beacon Press, 2000.)

When I studied at the University of Chicago, history was offered in the graduate department of either the humanities or the social sciences. I chose humanities because I preferred taking literature as my minor. Also, while I was a leftist with a Marxist bent, I did not believe that we could fit history into the framework of the sciences. I still feel that way. But today I would add that there are important arguments among scientists as well as science-educators about what it is that constitutes the fundamentals of "science" and what the most important contribution of science is to society, democracy, and the pursuit of happiness.

As in history, these differences lead to different conclusions regarding the content of a K-12 science education. I'm hoping none of the many sides in these disputes compromises for the sake of a consensus. I don't want our "academic" disputes decided by anyone's fiat. The argument itself, and the insights we gain from appreciating contradictory and conflicting theories and even evidence is important. The dogmatism of particular scholars is part of what drives them to pursue their ideas in ways dilettantes won't. While simplicity is one test of a good scientific hypothesis (hardly a critical one), it's not at all true in history.

Settling on THE history of the Civil War (my specialty) undermines good intellectual work rather than elevating it. A good course in history—yes, starting in kindergarten—is consistent and not in contradiction with what the highest standards of history are about. The coursework may be "simpler" in one sense, but it should not treat 5-year-olds to a false view of history. Even little children are aware of how witnesses retell the playground fight from different viewpoints!

But then I have long suspected that that my favorite interpretations might not make it into "The National Consensus." I've come out of a dissident history and have often been on the losing side of policy matters. So my natural inclination is to assume I need policies that protect my views.

My inkling is that many of our theories are much related to our personal strengths, histories, and attachments. As one with a terrible rote memory—a lifelong problem for me—I appreciated the schools I attended in the 1930s and '40s for having been progressive! Since there were few such schools in the public sector, it meant my parents sent me to a private school. Still I was a firm believer in the validity of standardized tests (despite being a poor memorizer) until one of my three children turned out to be bad at them—and I had to become an expert on testing to defend and understand him better.

So whether it's my personal history or my understanding of the nature of history as a discipline—or my fear of the tendency to rewrite history to support the dominant political actors—or something else entirely, I'm afraid of creating a "Single Inspiring American History Story." I'd like us to delight in three or more good stories and then explore how close to The Truth each gets by seeking evidence on behalf of their claims.

At Central Park East Secondary School, the final history "exam" consisted of doing just what I'm talking about. Students had a choice of what portion of history to be experts in and then had to defend their understanding of issues, both on paper and in person. The final query from the review committee required students to explain how they might pursue this subject if they had the time and inclination. Such an exercise helped us design experiences for those as young as five that fostered both the love of history and the curiosity needed to take it seriously. We're all entitled to "our opinions," but schooling should take us beyond "mere" opinions into tentative conclusions that once again are held with care. Will this approach lead to dilemmas? Yes, yes, yes. It narrowed how much we "covered" because it focused instead on "uncovering."

Deborah

P.S. Regarding your latest blog comments: Actually, "open education" was mistakenly interpreted as "open space" or "no walls." Nothing could have been more counter effective than those big anonymous spaces that teachers had to struggle to personalize, reinventing their own walls.

Posted by Deborah Meier at 8:48 AM | Permalink | Leave a comment | Recommend

Dear Deborah,

Your last blog takes us back to a time when we were on opposite sides of the pedagogical fence. I was aware of your work in the "open classroom" movement, and none too appreciative of that movement. I tend to prefer students in classrooms with walls and a door and have vivid memories of visiting "open" schools where four classes were at work in the same space, divided spontaneously by bookcases or other physical markers pushed into place to allow the teachers to have almost a room of their own. Back in the '70s, '80s, and '90s, I engaged in verbal duels with advocates of bilingual education, whole language, constructivist math, multicultural education, and many variants of progressivism.

I recall how I met you. First, as you note, you slammed my book, The Troubled Crusade, in Dissent in 1983, and we exchanged some verbal salvos in that journal. Then, in 1988, you again let me have it when you blasted "What Do Our 17-Year-Olds Know?" in the pages of Dissent (my co-author was Chester E. Finn, Jr.). I don't recall if or how I responded, but I expressed my frustration to Al Shanker, and he said very simply, "I think you and Deb would like each other. Why don't you call her and make a date to see her?" I confess that the thought had never crossed my mind. I took his advice. I called and still remember what I said when I reached you on the phone at Central Park East, your school in East Harlem. I said, "Hello, this is Diane Ravitch. I know you are familiar with my work, but I have never seen yours. May I come and visit your school and meet you?" There was a fairly long silence. I felt that you were drawing a very long breath. And, then you said, "Of course," and we made a date. You took me on a tour, we talked for about two hours, and we found that we could indeed find much about which we agreed. At least we agreed that neither of us was an ogre!

When we started this blog, the assumption was that we had long argued, but that we now saw some common ground around the central issues of the day. I still find this a compelling reason to continue our dialogue. As the issues of our day grow sharper, people who used to be adversaries are finding common ground. The disastrous policies of No Child Left Behind and now the Race to the Top have succeeded in ending old animosities. I have heard directly from many people who once considered me a bitter foe, but who now recognize that we are in the same boat. Somehow our old disputes about whole language, bilingual education, and the new new math pale in comparison to the coordinated assault by powerful forces on the very foundations of public education.

I now freely concede that I was wrong to support the expansion of testing and accountability. I believe that this approach has created a major national fraud, as the more we rely on testing, and the more we emphasize accountability, the less interest there is in anything that you or I would recognize as good education. I am reminded that at the end of Experience and Education, John Dewey said that we need to think less about "progressive education" and "traditional education," and think instead about good education. Who today even talks about "good" education? Instead, we are entrapped in empty discourse about meaningless data, and more and more children go through their schooling without any real engagement in the arts, science, history, projects, activities, or anything else that does not raise their scores in reading and math.

Here is a crowning irony: The New York City Department of Education announced that it is closing the John Dewey High School in Brooklyn because of low test scores. I regularly hear from staff members there who insist that it is a good school and who are outraged that it will be closed. I wonder if those who made the decision ever read anything written by Dewey? My hunch is that they have not, as they seem to be squarely in the camp of Frederick W. Taylor and the efficiency movement (bet they never read him either).

I now freely concede that I was wrong to support choice as a primary mechanism for school reform. It has become a mechanism to promote the privatization of public education and to create a cash flow of government funding for clever entrepreneurs. I testified before the New York state legislature in 1998 on behalf of charter schools. What a mistake that was. I can't change what happened in the past, but I can sure admit that I was wrong and do my best to stop this movement from consuming even more of the public sector.

I am sure there are many specific pedagogical issues on which we disagree. But right now and for the foreseeable future, the biggest issue is the survival of public education and of the education profession. The same powerful groups support both the movement to privatize public schools and efforts to put inexperienced people into the schools as teachers, principals, and superintendents.

These are terrible ideas. They do not reflect what is done in any of the world's most successful school systems. They represent a power grab by people who believe that the private sector always knows best. People often ask me why President Barack Obama and Secretary Arne Duncan are in the camp of the privatizers, and I have to say that I don't understand it.

So, what I have seen these past few years is that old animosities over pedagogical issues fade to insignificance when compared with the present struggle for the future of public education. And in that battle, we stand together.

Diane

Posted by Diane Ravitch at 8:40 AM | Permalink | Leave a comment | Recommend