Bridging Differences

Dear Deborah,

It was interesting that you used the analogy to Consumer Reports to discuss the value of grading schools. As a longtime subscriber to CR, I understand that it is useful to have a disinterested voice evaluating the products in the marketplace. To make sure that there is never a conflict of interest, CR does not accept advertising; no one can ever say that their judgments were tainted by commercial interests.

The CR example shows, I think, the problems with assigning a letter grade (only one letter grade, not a report card) to each school. To begin with, schools are not situated in a true marketplace. We may decide to buy this car, not that one, or this television, not that one, because we are consumers and have a wide choice of products. But parents do not have the same free choice about where to send their children; even if they wanted to withdraw them from an F school and send them to an A school, the A school may be too distant from their home and it certainly will not have enough seats for students who might want to transfer in. Most parents would be happy to know that their children were attending a good school that was close to home. They have neither the time nor the sophistication to shop around the city for a higher-rated school. Given the widespread complaint that the ratings themselves are flawed, school officials may be dispensing false data to parents, scaring them needlessly about their children's school and destabilizing schools and communities.

Then, too, there is the problem of conflict of interest. Is it really a good idea that schools should be graded by the very officials responsible for leading them? Don't they have an inherent conflict of interest? Consumer Reports takes pains to insulate itself from the appearance of conflict of interest. Top school officials, on the other hand, are the ones who rank and grade and test and report on their own performance. In New York City, the situation is anomalous, in that school officials disdain any responsibility for improving the schools; under their theory of principal empowerment, only the principal is to be held responsible, even though there are many conditions affecting achievement that are beyond the principal's influence.

I certainly agree with you that NCLB should not be reauthorized until there is more careful reconsideration of what it has accomplished and what its negative consequences have been. Everything that I read and hear supports the view that it will NOT be reauthorized until after the 2008 election. A new president will presumably set the agenda for federal education policy. Since Democrats control the Congress until the next election, I think it fair to say that NCLB is now the property of the Democratic party.

Given the importance of the NEA and the AFT within Democratic ranks, I would have assumed that Congress would be taking a hard look at NCLB, but this does not seem to be the case. Last week I was invited to meet with a very smart Democratic congressman who is a member of the Education Committee in the House of Representatives. I told him that I hoped Congress would consider a radical restructuring of NCLB. He immediately disabused me of that idea. He said that NCLB will be re-authorized; that there would be changes, but that they would not be radical ones. I told him that if they did some polling or even talked to teachers in their districts, they would find that the law was hated by most teachers. That didn't seem to faze him. The law will no doubt get a new name, but the basic structure will not be abandoned.

One wonders, if the people who have to do the implementation say that it is not working, why would Congress push ahead? But apparently they are. It is time to realize that this law, in its next iteration, will be a product of the Democratic party. My guess is that no one in Washington wants to give up the power to tell teachers what to do.

Diane

Posted by Diane Ravitch at 7:55 AM | Permalink | Comments (9) | TrackBacks (0)

Dear Diane,

Did you read The New York Times Magazine piece called "Do We Really Know What Makes Us Healthy?" by Gary Taubes? Or the follow-up on Oct. 9 in the Times Science Section by John Tierney?

Medicine (and nutrition) have all the odds in their favor vs. education when it comes to being "scientific". There's a lot less disagreement about what constitutes good health, for one thing. Politics—in the best and worst senses—is less intimately tied to medicine. It's easier to have placebos and random samples. And it's easier to track patients for long enough to assess side effects.

John Tierney takes up the "consensus" claims about low-fat diets, and the nutrition end of Taubes' work. He describes how easy it is for an interesting hypothesis (high fat, bad for heart), with the right "political" support to become a consensus, and thus the continued existence of fads in medicine and nutrition. Ditto for schooling, Diane. And—more another time—the "consensus" around the current "science" of reading is a case in point. At least in medicine it doesn't get worked into federal law!

Author Taubes concludes that "we end up having to fall back on the following guidelines when it comes to scientific research about medicine". (What follows is my summary) (1) Look for all other possible explanations for the data. (2) Assume the first reported association is incorrect or meaningless—be skeptical when it first hits the news. (3) If the correlation appears in many studies and populations but is small (in the range of 10s of percents), continue to doubt it. (4) If the correlation involves some aspect of human behavior then question its validity. (5) "The best advice is to keep in mind the law of unintended consequences." There's too much that either can't be measured or in which the measurement itself is subjective—even if it can be coded. The principal investigator of a famous large-scale Nurse's Health Study concluded: "I'm back to the place where I doubt everything."

I say all this, Diane, because that's where I end up, too—and I actually did not begin there—about almost all school-related data. Because above and beyond all the reasons Taubes gives above, there is inevitably more bias—meaning individual values—involved in education research, and more political pressure on schools to comply. Teachers and principals, as you noted, don't have the freedom professors do. In part it's also because I have never met two kids who responded the same way to anything—even if on a coded response sheet it might look as though they do.

Yet one cannot fall back on nihilism; so one reaches some conclusions—makes one's best guess (judgment) and leaves the door open for those with other conclusions! It's still a one-on-one kind of diagnosis. One even encourages, as in medicine, continued research of less likely minority views.

It's not all that much different than what we have to do in any field which is bigger than our own anecdotal evidence. Like Iraq, or human-induced global warming, etc. We simply do not and cannot wait for certainty. (So, as laymen, we go along with the experts we most trust.)

But it's also the reason I keep the door open to the idea of being wrong even as I act as vigorously and persuasively as I can on the assumption I'm right! That's why I like kids to hear knowledgeable and expert adults disagreeing. My friend Brenda tells me they have a rule at home: we never argue about something that can be settled by looking it up (Googling these days). I think that's a good rule, although that assumes we can know for sure when it's "that kind" of argument, and besides there are some advantages in kicking a fact around for a while before looking it up.

Democracy rests on disagreements—if there weren't any we wouldn't need it. If there were mostly wrong and right answers to life's dilemmas, we'd just be able to choose our rulers by a standardized test.

But there are no such tests, nor probably no such foolproof graduation or attendance data, or measures of what we all would even agree is "success". But that doesn't make trying to figure out how best to assess this or that less useful. We just need a much healthier sense of tentativeness about our assessments—an open mind.

As with the baby-sitter I described in my last letter, this is in part why I'm for as FEW, not as many, "no-no's" as we can get away with. Let's not "make a law against it" unless pressed to the wall. But let's collect all kinds of data and expose all those interested to a good debate about the data, leading in turn to further data, and more debate. We don't always need to end it with a vote—or a rule.

I recently attended a Mission Hill Board meeting (what an amazing event it is). On the agenda was a discussion of what kind of data we wanted to collect about the kids who graduate from our school. What kind we collect will, after all, affect the kind of answers available to us. A former teacher who is writing his doctoral dissertation (in Wisconsin) has agreed to sort through the last 13 years of data. That could be the assigned service task for every doctoral student!

Deb

Posted by Deborah Meier at 7:55 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

Dear Diane,

The level of trust required for any society to sort of work is an interesting question. Because you are surely right that we cannot literally check out everything we're told in the media. What I tend to do is trust the data on matters about which I have profound ignorance, and be skeptical about what I know well (because I can check it out). But I know there are risks in this survival habit.

So the other thing I do—when I'm beyond my depth—is rely on "my" experts in each field—the folks in each field I've decided think like me, but know more. Every person of power obviously is required to do something like this all the time since they cannot possibly be experts even on every field which they must make decisions about. So they have their staff, who vet them, provide them with abbreviated versions of what they need to know about alongside of who said what. Us more "ordinary" folks, who can't afford our own staff, either pass over a lot of what's going on in the world or rely on some version of the truth, which seems to match our biases.

I'm simplifying things, but I think it goes something like this. Agreed?

If almost "everyone" (that we read) claims that schools once were better, it becomes "common wisdom" and doesn't require a fact-checker (so to speak). I've always been curious when I write about which facts the folks I write for want citations for. It happens when I claim, for example, that schools are actually better than they used to be. Neither is easy to establish, but only the latter requires me to "prove" my case.

If I claimed that there is no industrialized nation on earth that has less social mobility than the U.S., lots of folks would challenge me. So I'd have to dig up the story that I just read on the back pages of, I think, The New York Times. But if, in passing, I said that the U.S. was and remains a nation in which everyone can, rise above his/her origins few would ask for evidence to support such a claim.

So, maybe our search for neutral data on schools won't be easy to establish, Diane. Our friend Chancellor Klein responded to a recent NY Times column (by Samuel G. Freedman, July 4; subscription or fee required) on the overload of teacher paperwork. He once again asserted that things have never been so good. Paperwork is not a dirty word. Teacher morale is high, and turnover is no longer a problem—retention is now at a 90 percent rate. How would I know if his claims are accurate? Or what the data actually means? (Does it mean that in five years, half the new teachers are gone?)

The Washington Monthly, which has sort of my politics, recently noted that conservatives are right about one thing: money for schools doesn't go far to explain success. Evidence? Compare D.C. schools to adjacent Virginia/Maryland district schools. Same (or lower) dollar figures and very different test scores and graduation rates. What's wrong with this evidence? The parents in the adjacent communities spend two or three (at least) times as much on their children's education, in the larger sense of that word, during the 4/5 of their waking hours not spent in school. I've toted it up with my children and grandchildren—what we do for them that provides the backdrop for their superior academic scores, their belief in schooling, etc.

Making sense of the world is tough, and a lot interferes with our "neutrality"—our particular experience, assumptions, etc. This doesn't mean we shouldn't always be searching for some reliable unbeatable truths. But it reminds me why it is that people I respect often reach such different conclusions.

Chancellor Klein—who doesn't perhaps do his own paperwork—undoubtedly believes every word he says. His staff—in addition—probably feed him the data he wants to hear. But I'd like him to turn over the data he's using to reach his sunny conclusions so others can reach their own conclusions. The best we can do—as you said some time ago—is demand transparency.

It's critical even to the discussion of the "achievement gap"—which I want us to discuss soon.

Deb

Posted by Deborah Meier at 7:45 AM | Permalink | Comments (7) | TrackBacks (0)

Dear Deb,

You raise important questions about the trustworthiness of the data that government agencies release. I would hope that every math course, not just advanced courses, would teach students how numbers can be interpreted in different ways for different purposes. I have always thought that one of the truly impressive qualities of athletics was the honesty of the numbers. If the score at the end of nine innings in a baseball game is 9-2, you know who won the game. In a basketball game, the basket is set at a certain height, and the ball has to enter the net and drop through to score points. In football, the field is 100 yards long, and you have to enter the end zone to score. There is something refreshing about this transparency. I grant that umpires make mistakes and bad calls, but most of the time the spectators and the players know the score.

We are bombarded with numbers from government agencies on a daily basis. If we can't believe what they are telling us about the unemployment rate, the interest rate, the rate of housing starts, and a zillion other things, then we are in deep trouble. I have never believed in conspiracy theories, and I tend to trust that people are telling the truth: It is just too much trouble and too improbable to get lots of people (especially career government employees) to collaborate in a giant lie.

I agree that we all need to arm ourselves with knowledge, information, and analytical skills to judge for ourselves whether the information we receive in the daily press is logical and reasonable. The other danger—aside from government mis-information—is an excess of public skepticism, the sort that feeds zany conspiracy theories. Whenever pollsters ask, they discover that large numbers of people believe very strange things, for example, that AIDS was unleashed in minority communities by the CIA or that aliens from other galaxies kidnap people and take them to their space ships to conduct experiments on them and then return them home.

We educate people with the hope that they will be prepared to think critically and skeptically about the ideas and information that they hear. We can't afford to lose this battle.

You make the interesting reference to Joe and Carol Reich's efforts to assert control over their charter schools in the Williamsburg section of Brooklyn. The Reichs started these two schools in a very poor community some years ago, and the schools are now charter schools, called the Beginning with Children schools. They apparently did not like the decisions of the majority of their board members, so they ousted them, to reassert control over "their" schools.

The Reichs are very public-spirited people, and they started these schools with the best intentions. They have given millions of dollars to support the charter school movement, and they no doubt feel that the schools in some way belong to them, not to the board.

But the story about them raises the important point about who "owns" charter schools. There is a charter school located inside the Tweed Courthouse, which is the headquarters of the New York City Department of Education. It is called the Ross Global Charter School and it is "owned" by Courtney Sale Ross. Ms. Ross, a woman who inherited vast wealth from her late husband, has chosen the board, the curriculum, and apparently the staff as well. In its first year, she booted several principals. This school, though located in a public facility, is hers. New York Magazine published a fascinating piece about the Ross School.

Someone mentioned to me recently that the wealthy used to collect racehorses and yachts; now they start their own charter school! What happens when running a charter school becomes a bore? What happens when they move on to collecting something else? What will they do if they don't get good results?

I read an article in the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette on July 11 with this headline: "Pittsburgh schools drop 'public' from name to boost image." The superintendent, Mark Roosevelt, decided that the district would call itself the "Pittsburgh Schools," in an effort at rebranding them. Apparently a "marketing consultant" advised the district that "public schools" have a negative connotation, and they should just get rid of that pesky word. And the leaders of the district (a.k.a., the public school district) agreed to drop it.

This is a small and maybe insignificant step in the direction we are discerning in other districts, towards privatization, towards turning schools over to whoever wants to manage them, towards delegitimatizing the very idea of public education.

What do you think?

Diane

Posted by Diane Ravitch at 9:40 AM | Permalink | Comments (5) | TrackBacks (0)

Dear Diane,

The disturbing comments in your final paragraph deserve a wide audience. It is always hard to know when we are being alarmists, and when we are understating a dangerous trend. Maybe schools were once less worrisome because they simply played a much smaller role in our lives and life itself was a teacher of common sense. But all roads lead to Rome, so while it may appear that I'm switching subjects, Diane, it leads to the same place.

I read the story a few weeks ago about Carol and Joe Reich's struggle to retain control over the public school they generously created for poor Brooklyn children some ten years ago. I read it with anguish—for them, for us, for the kids of that school. The tragedy is that we have too often forgotten that the distinction between public and private enterprises is that the former belong to "us", not "me." Our good intentions sometimes lead us astray. If the law allows, we can forget what we can and cannot literally "own." But is that less true for foundations? The Mayor? Why pick on just the Reichs?

The Reichs' work coincides with a period in American history when we are having a hard time denying the wealthy and powerful anything, including their right to own our public schools. We've too long given a free pass to rich people who use their wealth to impose their agenda for public education on schools for other people's children. In the latter camp, alas, go some well-intentioned leaders of foundations, like Gates, and various business and corporate conglomerates who control private largesse.

Plus a Mayor with enough private and public muscle to set an agenda without consulting those most affected by it, and then, and this is crucial, to control the data that judges his work.

I'm told, time and time again, that some things are just foolish to rant and rave against. It's just the way "things are." The reason one of our CPE "habits of mind" was called "what if?", was that we wanted young people to realize that other possibilities always existed, and still exist—whether in math, science, or in the history of the past or future. Nothing "had to be." I even tried to forbid the phrase "I had to" from our in-school language. Even with a gun to your head, I chided, there are choices. In some ways science fiction always appealed to me because it reminded me how differently the future might play out if…. Nothing in the future is "writ in stone" until it comes to pass. In the meantime we need to act "as if" our voices counted.

(As I noted to some reader recently, it's why I thought "Walden Two" by B.F. Skinner, was a dystopia—a world in which everything "had to be." Imagine my surprise to discover that it was a utopia to many others. A lesson in perspective—another useful habit of mind.)

I try to be realistic about my "what ifs", and I try to think "strategically". So, if I had to choose just one modest reform on behalf of democracy, what might it be?

Talking about the history of anti-smoking policies in the New York Review of Books (subscription or fee required), the author Helen Epstein notes the damaging effect of public distrust of statistics. In fact, however, what is even more dangerous is our love/hate relationship with statistics. The more ignorant we are the more we both bow down to and resent numbers. I've been arguing for years that instead of advanced algebra and calculus we ought to have a statistics-driven math program. Algebra may be "good for the mind", but statistics—the manipulation of data—is essential for making sense of the world. Still even that depends on the quality of the data one works with. The World Bank, I heard on NPR, is apparently having the same trouble trying to make sense of the data coming out of China as we're having with NYC.

Democracy depends on being informed. Being informed depends on having relatively honest information. As they used to say in the data-processing field: "GIGO"—garbage in, garbage out. For starters then, my modest wish would be to see if we can create a consensus around a set of proposals to de-garbage the information we get about public schooling in, let's say, NYC?

How does that appeal to you as a modest summer task?

Deb

Posted by Deborah Meier at 1:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)