That's why I had to click on this article from last week on The New York Times education page: To Avoid Student Turnover, Parents Get Rent Help. Because, omigod, if there is a solution to student turnover, I want to know about it for my kiddos in New Mexico, Texas and DC.

The article points out that many students from low-income families in Michigan frequently move because of financial issues with rent. It also points out that this constant moving around has an impact on how students develop academically, socially and emotionally. The solution: Help with rent payments so kids and their families can stay put.

"In some of Flint’s elementary schools, half or more of the students change in the course of a school year — in one school it reached 75 percent in 2003. The moves are usually linked to low, unstable incomes, inadequate housing and chaotic lives, and the recent rash of foreclosures on landlords is adding to the problem, forcing renters from their homes. The resulting classroom turmoil led the State Department of Human Services to start an unusual experiment, paying some parents $100 a month in rent subsidies to help them stay put — a rare effort to address the damaging turnover directly."

I'm not so certain about this policy and I don't have a better idea to contribute. But my mind lingered on this article because of Chris*. Chris was an eighth grader my first year of teaching and he was the coolest, slickest rebel on the rez. Those were among the reasons why he was at a third grade math level and was in rehab for the greater part of the previous year. His father had passed away, his mother was in jail and he and his brother were constantly shuffled among his aunts. Yet in two months, he had memorized his multiplication tables, mastered manipulating fractions and had improved by a grade level in word problems. He was still a rebel, but one who was set on starting pre-algebra by year's end.

But like so many students in under-resourced communities, Chris's family fell in greater financial trouble and he had to leave our school to move in with another aunt in Arizona. It was my first few months of teaching and I was devastated by having to give up this potential math genius-- and everything that this may have stood for in his life. What could I do? I gave him a pep talk, his flashcards, and gave him a packet of assignments to complete and show his new teacher when he arrived at his new school. I was desperate to help him continue his learning trajectory, and while I didn't realize it at the time, I was trying to empower him to take control of his own learning, regardless of what life threw at him.

I was able to much better articulate this concept of independence and control to my students over the next two years of teaching. Many of my kids became advocates of their learning, and made it clear to high school transition specialists what they knew and what they needed to learn. I had the chance to plant the seed for empowerment.

In the Rio Grande Valley, I've seen what this seed can do. In the border towns, many students in schools come from families who migrate north mid-spring and return to south Texas in early autumn. Can you imagine the academic impact? Schools have departments dedicated to helping students of migrant families transition, but it's rarely ever enough. But every so often, a student will come around who had a seed planted at some point and who was empowered to control their learning. These students would go to their classes (halfway through the first marking period) with packets of their previous work and explain to their teachers what they struggled with and what they had already studied. These kids would take the initiative to ask for after-school tutoring from their teachers, and before they leave mid-spring, they would ask for copies of their assignments and grades, and request written recommendations from their teachers. Life is tough, but these kiddos-- some just in elementary school with parents who worked three jobs and didn't speak a lick of English-- took control of their own learning.

In short, I don't know what to really think about the rent supplement. A good idea, potentially, and I'm looking forward to seeing its impact. Until we find better answers, however, I'm down with planting seeds.

Dear John,

Thanks for adding to the conversation. I have to respectfully disagree, however, because I have not left my students behind. I may not be teaching them directly anymore, but my value as a teacher in the classroom was to give them a high quality of learning. Even though my day-to-day role is different, my value in the classroom is the same-- to give a high quality education, especially to kids whose socioeconomic status is keeping them from attaining one already.

It was not as as quick for me to see my direct impact I have as a program director-- I'm not there day-to-day to see the a-ha moments of Taylor or Claudia when their teacher improves her checks for understanding-- but I do have the satisfaction of knowing that without my work as Claudia's teacher's program director, her teacher wouldn't have so quickly changed and improved her checks for understanding for them to reach those a-ha moments to begin with.

It was a tough transition for me, but it's one I'm proud of. It's also made me think back to the individuals who had a real impact on improving my teaching. Those fellow teachers, program directors and, yes, administrators, may not have been in the classroom with me each day, and it may have looked like they weren't doing much for the kids, but by opening my perspective to the many different people and work that is needed to closing the education gap, I see how folks who choose not to be in the classroom everyday are still making significant changes in kids' lives. By making assumptions about teachers, administrators, and everyone else in the education world, we run into the dangerous way of not working together toward the same goal from the many different directions necessary. It takes a village and we can't afford to leave anyone out.

I have to respectfully disagree that it takes many years for teachers to become proficient. I do not deny the invaluable experience that time in the classroom adds, however, I don't think it should take many years for teachers to be proficient and attain strong results-- in fact, I think we need to start expecting those things of first- and second-year teachers. More importantly, we need to change and improve our support structures to help them get there. With even better preparation and ongoing support and training, many of our first- and most of our second-year teachers should be able to achieve great results.

Controversial, perhaps, but I don't think the skills from seniority necessarily guarantee effectiveness in the classroom or at the administrative level. In my short time in the field, I have worked with excellent teachers who have 35-years of experience as well as excellent teachers in their first year. These teachers inspire students, constantly improve their instructional skills, analyze what's keeping their students back, and work so, so hard to make every second count to lead their kids to reach high results on an absolute scale. These excellent teachers I've worked with-- whether novices or veterans-- share similar attributes in their thinking, planning and teaching that are concrete, learn-able and teachable. At the same time, all of us also know teachers who widen the achievement gap regardless of time in classroom. I genuinely think excellent teaching proficiency can be learned through coaching and collaboration-- quickly.

I don't think the number of years in the classroom is the primary driver of student success. Nor do I believe this conviction de-professionalizes the profession. To the contrary, I think it makes it more professional. What other certified field allows their first- or second-year professionals to barely meet the mark? While years of experience will make you a stronger, faster, sharper teacher with a bigger and smarter bag of tools and ideas, we should expect first-year teachers to help their students reach at least a year's worth of growth. All teachers already receive trainings, classes, coaches and mentors-- not all of which is used or useful. By improving this process through direct and critical coaching and making these support structures more targeted to individual teachers' developmental needs, I believe we can create a system that allows all novice teachers to reach the kind of gains we expect from more experienced ones.

In my first year of teaching, my colleagues kindly assured me that it was all right for me to be not so good my first year because it takes several to see a real change. While assuming that it takes more than one or two years to become "just OK" recognizes the incredible challenges in teaching, it nonetheless lowers our expectations. Consequently, our professional development tends to gear toward these lowered expectations across the board for novice teachers. In addition to the love and care we have for kids, it takes high levels of critical thinking, data-analysis, and skill development to be a great teacher-- quickly.

Sure, I'm biased-- this is my work and passion. But it also gives me a unique perspective in seeing first and second year teachers and their students succeed. Seventy-five percent of my first- and second-year teachers made the equivalent of one year of growth or more in this past school year. That is astounding, but after seeing their work this year, it's not surprising. They work in under-resourced schools where most students are more than one year behind academically. In their first years of teaching, most are leading their departments and schools in student achievement, and they are department heads, team leaders, content leaders and more. I am super proud, but not surprised.

That fantastic 75% demonstrates that the equivalent of one-year's worth of growth should be the bar for novice teachers. The sobering counterpoint to the 75% is that 25% of my teachers failed to reach that mark. While many factors kept those teachers' students from reaching one or more years of growth, I do not believe it was a failure of teacher or student ability. Rather, it was a failure of the coaching and support they received and the way the teachers used it. A humbling thought, but also an empowering one, because that is something we can change-- quickly.

After all this time of working in education and believing and needing and working toward making great changes happen with student learning, I was seeing it happen. On a big scale. With first year teachers. Among teachers who struggled dearly for the first semester. At schools with administrative hang-ups, and students three, four, five, eight years below grade levels and 80% LEP populations. At schools with 54% drop-out rates. It is possible.

And these were MY teachers, my wonderful first- and second-year teachers who spent sleepless nights and countless meetings with me on backwards design, unit planning, lesson planning and assessment writing. These are my teachers who in their first months of teaching revamped their behavior systems, and revamped it again a month later when it backfired on them. These are my teachers who struggled for months, but had the humility and relentlessness to recognize their own weaknesses, seek help, and work tirelessly to retool their plans and teaching so their students could be where they are now. It is possible.

And where are they today? Their kids are mastering the TAKS Social Studies exam at 82% averages with scores comparable to those of students in high-income communities. They are mastering 83% averages on highly rigorous 9th grade world geography exams. They are analyzing poetry, writing descriptive personal narratives and they are able to do these things consistently and masterfully. Students lives are changing because of the work these teachers do. It is possible.

Not all of my teachers make the same level of measurable gains. That doesn't mean they aren't making an incredible difference in the life paths of students. But seeing and feeling the kind of gains that are possible among first- and second-year teachers makes me realize that it is so very possible to help all my teachers get to that even higher place. It is possible and it is necessary.

Then I asked her if she was still in school, either high school or college. Her big grin dropped for a moment and a wistful look crossed her face, replaced instantly with a smile. No, she said, she had to drop out in 11th grade, but when she was there, she got really good grades, all A's and B's. But she decided she needed to stop because she needed to help her family with money, and she was staying up late working all night anyway and sleeping her way through class-- it didn't seem like it was worth it. So she dropped out. But yeah. Looking back now, it would have been nice if she could finish. And her grades were really good too...

I told her I was really sorry to hear that had to happen-- I had students in that situation who had to make tough decisions too. What school did she go to? And would she want to return to school?

Yes, she would, she would love to go back. But right now, you know, with money and stuff, there's always work to do and to take care of her kids and husband. There's so much. But, she did check out a program recently that helps people get their GED and develop a vocational skill like child development or becoming a nursing assistant.

As soon as she mentioned this program, her eyes lit up. We were leaned over against the register counter just talking as the other warehouse workers were looking our way, trying to cover up the fruit to close down. But she kept talking about this fantastic local program that helped high school dropouts get their degrees and train for more skilled jobs. They even offered childcare service for when students are in GED classes, and sometimes you can earn a scholarship that will help cover your books and help earn your gas money to get to the course.

That sounds like an amazing opportunity, I exclaimed. Have you signed up? Are you going to do it? She shook her head maybe, that at first she didn't think she had the time, the money to do it before she could get a scholarship, and she still needed to work. But she really wanted to and was going to try her best to find a way to make it happen.

Before recently, she was really unsure and didn't think it would be possible, but after talking to Sylvia, the woman who ran the center, she wanted to make it happen no matter what so she didn't have to keep working at the fruit warehouse. Sylvia was really great, she explained. Sylvia made her realize she really could get her GED and get a better life through the vo-tech school.

We stood there talking by the counter until her boss walked by and gave her a look that made her hurry to ring me up. Before I left, I gave her my business card, grabbed her hands and told her best of luck, and that even though it will be a struggle, with her hard work and perseverance, she could make it happen. She looked at the card and smiled broadly. Thank you, she said, no one had ever told her that before.

I wrote this article, Growing School Leaders, months ago about a professional development model new principal Natalie Basham is using to meet the needs of both her students and staff.

I hijacked a class I was supposed to be observing yesterday. I couldn’t help it. I may have left my job as a special educator last summer to become a program director for Teach For America to build my educational management skills, but I still love teaching.

It’s a dilemma many ambitious educators face: to continue teaching the students they love and hone their craft as educators, or try to move to the next level in school management and have a broader impact. For many teachers like myself, this means going beyond being named department head or grade-team leader; we are looking for roles in which we can move beyond our own classroom walls, influence instruction, and create change in school systems.

Basically, at the risk of sounding spoiled, we want it all. And we don’t necessarily want to wait 20 years for our turn. In other fields, especially in business, exceptional employees with a history of exemplary effectiveness—regardless of the number of years of experience—are given promotions and more influential assignments. Why shouldn’t this happen in schools?

Well, in fact, in some spots around the country, it is starting to happen. In an effort to provide more instructional support, as well as build a pipeline of future school leaders, some administrators are trying a grow-your-own approach.

Take Natalie Basham, principal of the IDEA Academy and College Preparatory Mission in Mission, Texas, a charter school that is scheduled to open in fall 2008. Basham’s school is part of the IDEA Public Schools in the Rio Grande Valley, a charter network whose central mission is to prepare low-income students to succeed at four-year colleges. As a key part of the school’s instructional program, Basham has created a layered staffing and support system for teachers.

As Basham hires her team of 13 teachers for the 6th, 7th, and 8th grade classes, she is strategically selecting certain individuals to hold a dual role as instructional coaches. While the coaches will continue to teach, they will have fewer classes than other teachers in order to build in time for their mentoring role. In this position, their responsibilities expand to include observing other teachers, providing one-on-one feedback, data-based problem solving, and developing professional development action plans—that is, much of the clinical training principals, professional development directors, and administrators take on in most schools.

What stands out are the kinds of educators Basham has hired to join her in this critical role. The teacher-coaches’ experience level ranges from 2 years to 20-plus years. All are exemplary teachers with proven leadership skills and the ability to analyze instruction and data. Only one has held a formal school leadership role before. None have administrative degrees.

But based on the teachers’ previous work with students, adults, and data, Basham says she is confident she can train them to have the necessary management, support, and analysis skills to become instructional coaches.

“I believe I can train people to be leaders. I have trained people to do it,” Basham, a former Teach For America teacher and program director, explained. In addition to running the school and working with teachers, she will also provide direct management training and support to her coaches. “It’s what I would have liked,” she notes.

But why give standout teachers leadership skills that may ultimately take them out of the classroom? For Basham, it’s about providing an embedded support system and attracting ambitious educators in order to create a dynamic academic climate for students. “My primary goal is not about retaining teachers,” she says.”It’s about maximizing student achievement.”

“My responsibility is to develop teachers’ leadership,” she adds. “I want the best [for my teachers], whether I’m included or not, because they’re the ones teaching and leading the students in the classroom. It’s high stakes. We gotta get kids ready for college.”

This book, Teaching Phonics And Word Study In The Intermediate Grades, lit the light at the end of the tunnel for me in my first year of teaching middle school special ed. For someone who managed to inpsire friends and family to donate over 1,000 books over two years to my classroom, it's pretty embarassing to admit that for the first two months, my reading class consisted of students rolling around the floor and listening blankly to my explanations of prefixes and root words. None of kiddos could decode words at the third grade level and most didn't know what a long-a sound made. It was bad and I didn't have a concrete way to break down basic decoding instruction. Then I went to a fabulous Teach For America session where I was introduced to the wonderful world of chunking, prefixes and sight words. This is a great book for those looking for a ground-up way to teach decoding to older students. The lists of high-frequency words, most common roots/prefixes/suffixes, and chunking examples are great lists to photocopy for student centers.

Behavior Management

Hitting, yelling, profanity, sexual harassment, truancy and refusal to do anything at all, etc., are common problems all teachers face and have to learn to control in their own classroom. Be consistent. Have explicit expectations. Follow through. Fine. Done. I learned quickly, however, that the real problem with behavior management happened outside of my classroom, and at first, seemingly out of my control. When a 11-year-old attacks another student in my classroom and threatens everyone else, that wasn't quite something I could contain with a phone call home. The problem was that there were no clear school policies, and rarely an administrator available to uphold any logical policies we devised. As a result, students learned quickly that few consequences would be upheld outside of the teachers' classroom (in cases where the teachers actually upheld consequences, of course). I couldn't stand the chaos and anarchy by January. Luckily I wasn't the only one. I teamed up with the dorm counselor (my dear, dear friend Dawn), and a bunch of teachers ready to make changes, and we initiated the Positive Behavior Intervention Supports program in our school. It wasn't easy-- it took much cajoling of the school board and principals for their financial and professional support and it's still a struggle to get teacher, family and student buy-in-- but the infrastructure was developed, we started the program and we can be proud to say that we didn't just sit around and complain-- we initiated change. Change can be slow, but the impact is there. Shout out to Dr. Frankland of Western New Mexico University for introducing it to me and the rest of her management class!

Differentiating Novels

It wasn't exactly a book for teaching, but it was a lifesaver when it came to teaching special ed and differentiating effectively in reading class. I am a huge fan of Barnes and Noble's abridged copies of classic novels. With these leveled books(Tom Sawyer at 2nd-3rd, 3rd-4th, and 5th-6th grade levels), my students with disabilities ranging from mild learning disabilities to mental retardation were able to engage in tear-jerkingly high level discussions about race, author's purpose and morality.

At the same time, these kids were incredibly invested in deeply understanding literature they knew college students read. They began discussing these high level concepts outside of class to impress their general ed peers. And impress them they did. Talk about developing life skills. Alas, I only did this my second year of teaching. But their end-of-year gift and summer reading assignment? Huckleberry Finn at their appropriate reading level. I have never seen so many teenagers cradle their Mark Twain novels like they did with their PS3's (or whatever kids call those newfangled toys these days).

Add your favorite teaching books to the discussion at The Best Books on Teaching.

There was a time (and sometimes there still is) when I feel holier than thou and act as if anyone who doesn't dedicate their life and paycheck to closing the education gap only makes it wider. It's easy to feel all alone in this big, wide capitalistic reality. There have been times when I felt a tinge of martyrdom for my decision to work in education when my friends have chosen more lucrative careers as i-bankers, lawyers and doctors. Can you believe it? Doctors save lives and I dare feel like a martyr?!

As an obsessive and angry person when it comes to the achievement gap, I've learned to check my biases frequently so I don't say stupid things like above. But more importantly, I've learned to check my biases about people not in the business of education because getting them in on this mission is the only way the achievement gap can close on such a broad scale. I know that great classroom teaching is the cornerstone to closing the gap, but I also know that every single person in the village has a responsibility and the tools to close the gap, whether they're a teacher, a nurse or an i-banker. The bad news is that a whole lot of people still don't believe that it's their problem or that all children can learn or that they as non-traditional educators can do anything to help. The good news is that I am confident we all know people out there who are already doing it.

Need proof or just a pick-me-up to counteract your obsessiveness and anger over the state of society? Poets, editors and playwrights in New York City are closing the gap outside of schools by doubling as mentors to girls from disadvantaged backgrounds to help develop them as writers and leaders.

In the after-school scene at a Florida high school where "just graduate" is more heavily emphasized than "go to college," a group of students are changing their futures by designing a prep course and teaching each other. The founder of this after-school group? Sixteen-year-old junior William Scott who didn't allow his age and lack of teacher training keep him from having a hand in closing the achievement gap.

And let's not forget about the people who are closing the gap by getting kids to school safely to even start learning. After 32 school-age children in Chicago were killed last year in their own neighborhoods, Deverra Beverly, a community activist, pulled together parents and community leaders to form an escort service to help protect kids crossing gang territory as they went to and from school. Ms. Beverly and the others are most likely not teachers in the traditional sense, but they're making sure we're not alone in closing the achievement gap.

Over the past few weeks, I noticed a number of comments, some accusatory, other curious, about why I (and others) left the classroom to take on other roles in the field. This is a perennial question with no right answer. While I found myself tired of being asked, the more I pondered about it driving from school to school to meet teachers, the more deeply I felt about my personal decision to leave room B-2 on the Navajo Nation after two years of working as a special educator.

It breaks my heart to field phone calls from former students considering dropping out, and it's a bittersweet feeling when 16-year-olds write me letters using the exact sentence construction techniques we had worked for months on. If I stayed for another year, another decade, imagine all the children I would have had an impact on (hopefully positive). Imagine the years of reading growth, writing rubric improvement, and social skills development. Imagine what it would have been like if I could have been one "outsider" teacher who didn't leave the kids after a year or two.

These were all things I considered, but didn't truly feel, when I made my decision to take on the position as a program director helping develop new teachers in the Rio Grande Valley in Texas. I cried and I said my good-byes and I mailed math homework over the summer. But it wasn't until I got a phone call in November from a former colleague who mentioned in passing that one of my most severely disabled students, both physically and mentally, wasn't getting any educational services because the new teacher hadn't figured out how to fit him in her schedule. Last year, he learned to count money, grew by three levels of comprehension and could read over 25 life skills words-- after starting from zero with each thing.

I was enraged. I called the school, sent resources to the teacher, he's getting classes now, but mostly, I questioned my decision to leave. I was tempted to quit my job right then, which I felt like I was lousy at anyway. And I felt guilty. I felt guilty, guilty, guilty about dipping out of the front lines and taking a "cushy administrative position" instead.

Well, the "cushy administrative" notion gave me a quick laugh since I was logging an average of 90-hours a week and spending most of that time working directly with teachers or on teacher stuff (imagine a dean of instruction whose job is to entirely to take care of getting their 30 teachers to teach better-- that's my job.)

But the guilt stayed. It faded from time to time as I saw my teachers grow and improve, and as I grew to enjoy my work, but a bit of it stayed. It stayed because part of me always wondered if I'd have been better for education in general if I, and so many of my colleagues who've left the classroom, stayed.

One Saturday morning after meeting with one of my teachers, I casually mentioned this guilt I always feel. And she looked at me in amusement and awe. "In the time that it took you to show me how to write my lesson plans this way, you just helped improve my teaching," she said. "And that's going to have an effect on 150 kids. Multiply that by 30 teachers. That's 4,500 kids you're helping. Why are you feeling guilty again??"

That made me realize the guilt I felt wasn't about leaving the classroom, it was about doing something instead that wasn't worth leaving all my Elroy's, Alvin's and Jenny's back in New Mexico. When cast in that light, I didn't feel an ounce of guilt-- the dramatic growth I've seen and had a hand in with so many of my teachers has made it all worth it. So, no, there is no "right" answer for why people leave the teaching profession. But there's also no guilt in it if it was worth it.

(Note: The argument that all good teachers should stay in the classroom is rather preposterous to me. Yes, it's sad to see a great classroom instructor leave the front of the room, but it seems silly to demand people stay in a role when they want to work in a different capacity. One can only hope it's still working toward the same goal of student achievement. Otherwise we'll just end up with a whole lot of professionally-dissatisfied good teachers! And I've always argued that I would prefer having a good and motivated teacher teach for just two years than a mediocre teacher teach for 20. Naive, perhaps, but this is what principals have told me time and time again.)

It's no precise science, but I can usually pick out the students who sit in the back of the class, arms crossed, eyes glazed over, but quick with a defiant comeback. That's why I walked over to him this morning. He looked tough. He was slouched over at his desk, as close to the door as possible, his baggy shirt hanging over his thin frame and spiked hair gelled to the ends. I asked what he was working on and he explained that he was just starting the poem and was paraphrasing it.

I asked if he could show me one he had already finished, and he grinned and pulled out his paraphrasing of Emily Dickinson's "Hope is the thing..." He told me that he didn't understand the poem at first, and, no, he had never read a poem before this. Then, in his soft-spoken voice accented with Spanish, he started reading it to me line by line, explaining the images and ideas each line conveyed. "Hope is like a bird, something delicate that sits really close to the heart, the soul, and it keeps telling you something, to keep on hoping, but it doesn't use words, but you just have to trust it, to get the feeling of what it's saying, and it never stops telling you to keep on hoping, no matter what."

At a school with a 52% graduating rate, hope is just the thing. But so is hard work. Great job, Mr. Salinas. =)

This is why: The New York Times annual scholarship list came out and it sketched some of backgrounds of its recipients from this and previous years. The purpose of the scholarship is "to recognize New York City high school seniors who have created opportunities for themselves where few existed, and to reward them with money and other less tangible forms of aid."

Not only do these college-bound students receive $30,000 to go toward their schooling, a laptop, summer jobs at The Times, they also get the most invaluable piece of support of all: "counseling to help them navigate the often rocky transition from gritty urban high school to college."

I almost cried reading about these gritty, determined, focused and just simply amazing young people. According to The Times' article, these seniors have overcome more than what most face in a lifetime. "Ten years ago, Denise de las Nueces was a nerdy high school student from a poor Manhattan neighborhood, poring over astronomy books her father had picked out of the trash at the building where he worked as a doorman. Eight years ago, Letica Fox-Thomas was finishing up a childhood spent partly in the city’s homeless shelters while cramming for her Regents exams. Five years ago, Mansour Ourasanah was a new teenage immigrant from Togo, where he had learned firsthand about poverty and physical abuse but not how to speak or read English."

Yet I teared up because every teacher I know in these under-resourced schools has at least one superstar like those honored above. And each one of these teachers has at least a handful who need a bit of prodding and support, but has the potential to be a rock star as well. And for the rest of those kiddos, they deserve all the help and support from everywhere possible to be the best they can be. This is why we wake up each morning for work, right?

But as inspiring as it all is, not everyone who tries really hard gets to be a Times scholar. It's 12:01 AM right now and I'm crying as I write this at my kitchen table because my superstar, Jeremy, who is the most absolutely brilliant student I ever came across on the Navajo Nation, should be one of those students profiled one day by The Times. By the time we parted last spring, his reading comprehension was beyond the 12th grade level. The poverty and physical disability he faced in his short 14 years is enough to stump most folks, yet he was borrowing my dad's old books on C++ to figure out how to do programming on his own. I gave him what I could as his teacher for two years, but for the most part, the rest is up to him.

I haven't heard from him in a long time, and I'm rather worried. I'm worried he's going to get back in touch with me like some of my other former students who moved on to high school and tell me that they don't understand what they're learning, that their teachers weren't helping them, that they're trying to drop out. I can't help but feel disheartened when I hear this, because these were the kids who used to love coming to math class, who bragged about doing pre-algebra and who would sneak ahead in our reading. What could I have done? What were their current teachers doing? It's way too easy to get fired up, kick a table, and yell around the house about what the incompetent high school teachers are NOT doing for all my "Jeremies" out there. It's more productive to remember that is why I'm doing my job of improving teacher performance, even if it's far away from where Jeremy is right now. I'm also going to email Jeremy this article as well as a list of scholarship opportunities for him to remind him that he's still my superstar.

a) POVERTY
b) DISCRIMINATION
c) HUMAN RIGHTS ABUSES
d) INSUFFICIENT HEALTH CARE

Answer: e) Any of the above and EDUCATION

Reasoning: If you care about any of those things, you deeplycare about education. (See below)

Before 2005, I never cared to be a teacher. It's not that I didn't want to be a teacher-- I liked children and I had spent some time tutoring in my day and thought teaching was fun-- I didn't care to be one. Being a teacher seemed... lame. And unambitious. And unimportant.

I remember someone particularly intelligent told me he was majoring in education. My incredulous response was, "Why???" Sure, educating the next generation is important, but, well, not that important.

And you know what my mother told me when I told her I was joining Teach For America? She told me that if I wanted to enact change in society, being a journalist is important. Being a human rights lawyer is important. Being a doctor is important. Being a teacher is important, but not as important. It's not glamorous, it's not well-paying and it's not important enough to enact real change.

Before eduholics begin verbally beating me and my mother down for heresy, I have obviously changed heart about education and cannot imagine devoting the bulk of my sweat, time, and tears to any other mission. But my former-ambivalence and vagueness about education is how many, if not most, of my peers-- even my kind-hearted, well-educated and socially conscious friends-- feel. What changed my mind and compelled me to drop an (important) career in journalism was being taught that education is about justice. Education, particularly the ghastly achievement gap between the rich and the poor, is a matter of social justice. And people in education are the social activists in this movement. Education. Is. Important.

Given that this is a teacher news site and this is an education blog and you have bothered reading to the sixth paragraph, I am clearly preaching to the choir about the importance of education. What we really need to do is compel those around us about the importance of education so the social value of teaching is on par with poverty, health care and discrimination. Because ultimately, all those issues take root in education. And ultimately, in order to close the achievement gap and achieve justice, we're going to need to convince many more folks that education is important enough for them to devote their careers and free time to teaching, policy-making, financially-supporting (and the other countless ways to contribute).

Facts about our achievement gap:

- By the end of fourth grade, African American, Latino, and poor students of all races are two years behind behind their wealthier, predominantly white peers in reading and math. By eighth grade, they have slipped three years behind, and by twelfth grade, four years behind.

- One in three African American males will be incarcerated in state or federal prison at some point during their lives, and the rate is significantly higher for black men who do not finish high school. For Hispanic males, the rate is one in six; for white males, one in 17

- Only one in 50 Hispanic and black 17-year-olds can read and gain information from specialized text – such as the science section of a newspaper – compared to about one in 12 white students.
- Lead exposure: Low-income children have dangerously high blood levels at five times the rate of middle-class children. Lead dust exposure harms cognitive functioning. High lead levels also contribute to hearing loss.

- Vision: A poor child's difficulty in learning to read is often caused by vision problems. Poor children have severe vision impairment at twice the normal rate. One cause is watching excessive television, which can retard development of hand-eye coordination and depth perception. Forty-two percent of black fourth graders watch six or more hours of television a day, compared to 13 percent of whites.

- Fifty percent or more of minority and low-income children have vision problems that interfere with their academic work.

For even more resources on closing the achievement gap, check out The NEA Foundation

I've been promising myself to respond to every comment on the blog for the past month, but, um, I haven't. What can I say? You know how 60-hour work weeks go. But that doesn't mean I don't read, mull, dwell, and obsess over comments and discussions started on this blog and others. Last week's comments left on 125 G's by readers John Boyer, Jim in New Orleans, and Brett were truly thought-provoking and deserve far more attention on this blog. Thank you for sharing your insights about the heart of great teaching. Keep on blogging.

What does "great teaching" mean to you?

This is what I think it means:

I think it means a teacher who can get kids-- all kids, whether they're LEP, in Special Ed, have parents in jail, or have been in jail themselves-- to learn and retain a lot. Basic. Everything else is just the path to get there.

Typically, that "a lot" is defined by the state standards, which way too many of our kids can't master. Yes, standards are constantly being revised or (desperately) demand revising, but for the most part, the state standards (and the national standards) are bars for where kids need to be.

Logic has it that if a great teacher is able to get a student to learn, then that student will be able to demonstrate their learning. Heck, they better be able to demonstrate it on a test or essay. Because if they can't tell you what 4 x 5 is on an end-of-year test, are you really all that confident that they will know it in the next grade or at their job one day? Great teachers are confident about their students' learning. Therefore, I do think student performance scores on appropriate and aligned assessments are key to measuring a teacher's greatness. (Note the outrageous emphasis on appropriate and aligned assessments. I know my whole-hearted support of assessments will rattle some folks-- please share your comments. We'll devote a blog entry to testing one day. =)

What does it take to become a great teacher?

OK, so back to my original point. To me, these rock star teachers who yield enduring student learning employ a variety of skills, including but not limited to:

Skill No. 1) Feasible, but high, high, high expectations that all their babies, 3 to 21 years old can and must learn. Great teachers genuinely care about their students and go to the end of the earth to help them. That said, you also need feasible, but high expectations for yourself. First year and other new teachers out there-- YES YOU CAN. You CAN get your students to read two grade levels higher by the end of the year. You CAN get your third graders who can't yet subtract to multiply and divide like cute little actuaries by the end of the year. DON'T LET ANYONE TELL YOU THAT YOU CAN'T. I DID IT, MY COLLEAGUES DID IT, AND A NUMBER OF MY FIRST-YEAR TEACHERS ARE DOING IT THIS MINUTE. IT'S VERY HARD, BUT IT'S NOT ONLY POSSIBLE, IT'S NECESSARY. PLEASE DON'T STOP TRYING.

Skill No. 2) Strong plans. Hands down. All the good teachers who have enduring results I know plan. My own teachers from grade school included. When I first started teaching, I actually believed that being super-duper motivating and having high expectations would be enough to teach the kids. Wrong. I needed to thorough long term plan, unit plan, lesson plan and revise everything over again. I wasn't a good teacher without doing (a lot) of homework of my own. This doesn't mean that great teachers teach fact after fact so kids do well on tests. This means great teachers teach the necessary facts and skills that will enable students to think critically during the lesson and develop enduring understandings.

Skill No. 3) Motivating and investing their kids. Motivating and investing their families. Motivating and investing the postal carrier. Getting everyone around the students to care about students' achievement. Even though planning is mandatory, teachers who can inspire and lead a la Robin Williams in "Dead Poet's Society" (swoon) will move people to join a new mission called learning.

Skill No. 4) Ability to reflect about their own practice, identify what areas and which students aren't learning, and be able to trace back exactly what is causing the problem, and be able to figure out the teacher actions that are contributing to it and then FIX IT. Fix it by changing it yourself, finding answers from other teachers, seeking help from mentors or observing a whole lot of amazing educators. The options are endless. The trick is in being able to honestly reflect about what needs to change, and using all the available resources out there.

I think having strong administrative support, sufficient support services, and technology are really great and can only help, but I don't think they're necessary for great teaching. As I'm compiling this list of what great teachers have, I'm actually going through a mental list of the folks I know who are all first-, second-, third-, fourth-, and 25- and 35-year veterans. All these great teachers have the key points I made above, but not necessarily the nice things like support and technology.

I am 25-years old, I've taught so far for only two years, and my current job is to professionally develop first- and second-year teachers so they are great, fast. Given my age, background and ideas (although they're not particularly ground-breaking. I'm stealing them from great teachers after all), I imagine some would call all this idealistic. To that, I say two things: 1) Thank you, because if something idealistic becomes reality as this has so many times over, that means we can all expect to aim for the ideal; and 2) Please share your thoughts and ideas. According to Skill No. 4 above, a trick to great teaching is to ask everyone for help.

What does great teaching mean to you? And what does it take for teachers to get there?

Whose definition do you use to establish greatness? The greatest teachers I had were those who had the courage to reach beyond the traditional curriculum, rather than the teachers who followed all the "rules" as promulgated by Schools of Education and administrators.

The metrics used in a charter school may not be the same as those used to evaluate public school teachers, and the idea of evaluating a teacher based upon the test scores of his or her students would seem, to me, to reduce the attractiveness of a high needs teaching assignment to a great teacher.

In a similar vein, to suggest that National Board Certification be a criterion of "greatness", as has been suggested in other forums, leads me to speculate that, as in many other areas of the education world, the way to get ahead is to engage in activities which result in less time spent preparing and executing the business of educating kids!

I applaud your sentiment, but remain skeptical as to an objective means to establish the criteria for "greatness" and how to teach it to others. "Greatness" comes from within, and often is not recognized by students until long after graduation, if at all. How do we as a profession treat those teachers who are not recognized as "great" by the education community, but whose influence is great upon the leaders of the future?

Posted by: James Boyer | March 7, 2008 2:27 PM

Ahhhhhhh, we get back to the basic question: What does good teaching look like? Many researchers in the field of education, Roland Barth for one, I believe, tried to address this question with a degree of legitimacy, and did a good job of doing so. Lee Shulman, I believe, also effectively addressed this question.

Nevertheless, good teaching is difficult to define. Robin Williams' character in "Dead Poets' Society" would fail most modern teacher evaluations miserably. Imagine throwing out the established curriculum: pedagogical blasphemy!! And yet- he inspired his students in ways few teachers could.

"Good teaching" is not like good nursing or good doctoring, where often there is a set course of action for a certain malady. Most people who have a broken arm will have it set the same way, with a few exceptions. Teaching is quite different. Ten students with dyslexia may have to be approached in ten different ways.

There are some things we know in terms of what good teaching looks like: good teachers have a sense of structure, consistency, they truly care about the learning of the students, among others. One thing that must be understood, however, is that good teachers generally take years to develop effective teaching and behavior management strategies.

School systems must understand a key component of "good teaching," however- teachers must be supplied with what they NEED to be effective: technology, good training, mentoring with highly effective teachers, and the necessary support services. Too many times, the problem is that we bombard new, potentially very effective teachers with bureaucratic minutiae (lunch counts, collecting student fees, endless ineffective in-services) that compromise the time that could be better spent in preparing to serve the students. Feeling overwhelmed, they either quit or do what they have to do to survive.

Define good teaching, instruct the art of good teaching, and support good teaching. That would be a big step to teaching all teachers to be "great."

Posted by: Jim in New Orleans-SPED teacher | March 9, 2008 11:30 AM

If you look at the website for the school in New York, they have a clearly defined set of expectations setting out what their definition of a great teacher is http://www.tepcharter.org. If I was a Middle School teacher, I would bust my tail to get on board at this school - take a look at what their expectations are and how the support structure is organized.

Great teaching starts with mastery of subject matter, continues with outstanding communication and observational skills, and culminates in the continual process of self assessment and reinvention necessary to improve effectiveness. It is an art, a skill set that can only be accumulated through rigorous applied study, application, and experience. TEP has it right - teaching is the job that deserves the highest pay in the educational environment. Until such time as this occurs, people like Jessica will leave the classroom and move into positions where the pay is commensurate with ability and the opportunity to impact learning and teaching is greater.

Basically - we have to step back and realize that a socialist (state run and evaluated with a captive consumer base) system such as public education is designed to simply sustain itself, not reward innovation or support progress. Step back for a second and really take a look at how your state's educational system is structured, look at the levels of bureaucracy in even the local districts, perhaps even in your school.

I am no fan of school vouchers, nor do I think private schools are any better on the whole than public schools, but look at the institutional obstacles in place - there's no recognition and reward for outstanding work on an individual level - I was constantly angered that 35% of the teachers in my last school got bonuses for work they had no part in. I left the classroom because I went completely off the top of the pay scale by taking a private sector position - a pay jump that would have taken another 15 years, no matter what efforts I made in the system.Such institutional mandates make it less likely that driven, talented people will join the profession in the first place, and that many will leave as they realize that motivation, effort and innovation are not recognized nor rewarded.

Posted by: Brett | March 13, 2008 9:29 AM

It was pretty awesome to see the sixth graders sit back in quiet shock with that quick dose of reality as their teacher explained the school day structure for students in Japan.

Also, kudos to her for building her students' skill at synthesizing information and making and supporting their own judgments.

"Students in Japan don't typically interrupt class by asking a lot of questions. If a student has a question, he/she asks the teacher after class. But I like it when you guys ask questions. When you're learning about a new culture, think about what you like about it and what you don’t like. Keep all of those things in mind."

Now, an up-and-coming New York City charter school is doing just that. No, they're not adding to my paycheck per se, but they're scrimping and saving and focusing their funds on stuff that direct has an impact on student learning. They plan to scrimp and save so much, they are holding themselves accountable to paying teachers a whopping $125,000 salary.

"The school will open with seven teachers and 120 students, most of them from low-income Hispanic families. At full capacity, it will have 28 teachers and 480 students. It will have no assistant principals, and only one or two social workers. Its classes will have 30 students. In an inversion of the traditional school hierarchy that is raising eyebrows among school administrators, the principal will start off earning just $90,000. In place of a menu of electives to round out the core curriculum, all students will take music and Latin. Period.

While the notion of raising teacher pay to attract better candidates may seem simple, the issue is at the crux of policy debates rippling through school systems nationwide, over how teachers should be selected, compensated and judged, and whether teacher quality matters more than, say, class size."

Increasing pay is fabulous, especially in terms of getting high-performing teachers to teach in high-needs areas. Apparently, finding the funds to pay teachers the salary they deserve is possible, and a necessary component to getting talented teachers to stay in the field.

I can't help but wonder, however, if this is something that can happen at a nationwide scale where not every teacher is great. As with most things in the education world, this school leads us back to the question of: How do we teach all teachers to be great?