Teachers usually approach Halloween with a mix of stoic resignation and determined tolerance for excess. As in: I got through this before, and I can do it again. Pass the Kit Kat bars.
The huge increase in testing hasn't told us a single thing we didn't already know about who holds the cards in the education game, who will take home the biggest piece of the pie. We don't need more data.
The Teach for America alumni assumed they already had a seat at the table, and a genuine voice in policy creation. The student teachers in Michigan were just trying to get hired.
The best classrooms are full of sticky items, places where kids cluster and are encouraged to interpret and apply things they've learned.
Most days, it feels as if the only people who get to have a dream about wonderful schools are those who aren't actually working in schools.
A new film tells the real, and often heartbreaking, story of one school in Phoenix, twenty teachers, a dedicated principal--and how they collectively decided to improve the one thing they had control over: teaching.
What did you used to think about school reform? And what do you think now?
Beneath all the rhetoric about giving clueless local boards too much agency there's something very disturbing--a whiff of we-know-better, managerial arrogance. As a teacher, I'd rather take my chances on electing people I know.
Good teaching is not about classroom rules, cute videos, raising test scores, cool field experiences or unions. It's about relationships, mastery, analysis, persistence, diagnosis and continuous reflection. It's complex, layered intellectual work. And it happens in hundreds of thousands of "regular" classrooms, every day.
I never used to believe in Great Education Conspiracy theories--that dark forces were trying to shoot enough holes in the ship of public education to make it sink, whereupon a huge market for materials production and human capital would open up. Lately, I've been pretty sure that's exactly what's happening, beginning in places like Detroit.