Teachers, Timing, and Testing

Teachers, Timing, and Testing

It makes sense to me that if I test my students on the first day of school and the last day of school, that I’d get a pretty good understanding of what they’d learned along the way.

So it always bothers me that the measurements that are used to evaluate my effectiveness as a teacher are done so late after the start of the year.  As we begin the second full week, I have begun teaching both skills and content.  We’ve covered the processes and procedures needed for classroom management, and are on our way through the curriculum.  And yet, no pre-test yet.

As we move further into the school year, it will get worse for my evaluations, because the kids will score higher on sections of the pre-test that we’ve already covered.

This bothers me for a lot of reasons.

First, if I weren’t a high-road kind of girl, I could just show movies, or play games, or do puzzles the first weeks of school while waiting on a pre-test to show up.  Good for me, bad for the kids.

Second, I could tell my kids to Christmas tree the test, thereby guaranteeing lower scores to start with.  But, again, there’s that high-road, and I like the view from up there. And I don’t want to teach my students to skew data.  They’ll figure that out soon enough in the long run.

Third, I really want accurate, timely feedback on whether my kids are learning anything.  To do that the pre-test ought to come prior to the content.  But it doesn’t, it comes when it comes, on it’s own schedule.  I could be really grumpy and point out that the school calendars are published about six months prior to the new school year, but that might be petty, so I’ll keep moving.

Finally, if there continues to be so much money made in education by corporations who are looking for more data to mine, then the tests, the data we need, and the information most prescient to our classrooms will be completely out of our hands.  Oh wait. Haha.  It already is.  Nevermind.  Forgot where I was.

So, if you’re a teacher, or teacher friendly, I’d like to encourage you to get involved somewhere, and start speaking out against the craziness that is all of this money being spent on tests and testing instead of our students.

Have an awesome week, people!

Basic Wisdom: Teaching and the Value of Experience

Basic Wisdom: Teaching and the Value of Experience

Yesterday marked the first time in my 18 year career that I have had a brand new computer on my desk for just ME to use.

A brand new computer that showed up still in its box, with a fresh new keyboard without dust bunnies, and a mouse that was not pre-grubbified by years of other people’s cooties.  It still had the clear sticky protective tape on it.

*quivers*

Cue perky Pharrell Williams song here.

It’s so fast–click it and you are there.  I was giddy with excitement.

And then the internet crashed.

So just as I was about to use my teacher Youtube channel and a cool PowerPoint from the cloud: Poof. No internet.  This meant no pre-planned technology-infused lesson integrating various learning styles. I put my phone and my two remotes down. I turned off the projector, I went back to basics and I taught the old-fashioned way, remembering to angle my body just right so as not to have my back to the class while I wrote on the board.

And I was proud of myself, and all my former English teachers would be too.  I went technologically back in time to about 1995, the land of the whiteboard and erasable marker, and me and my ninth and tenth graders had an almost one-room school house kind of fun.

I taught grammar.  Now, anyone who knows me well knows how much I hate teaching grammar.  It’s almost like math.  And yes, I hate it that bad. But as a teacher, I don’t always get to do what I want (go on, if you’re a teacher, laugh at how silly it is to think that we get to do what we want in our classrooms.)

That afternoon, I taught coordinating and subordinating conjunctions like a boss. Dependent and independent clauses, and compound, complex, and compound-complex sentences like, well, like a pro.  (And later on, ask me about the cool metaphor I came up with help to explain it.)

Because when it comes down to it, no matter what happens in the classroom, teachers adapt to it, and do what needs to be done in that moment.   Would I have been able to do that in my first couple of years teaching?  Doubt it.  I’d have gone on to whatever was in the plans for later that week that didn’t require technology, grumping all the while about not being able to use my new toy.

But with experience comes wisdom, and wisdom says we don’t have moments to waste, or energy to burn skipping around the order of things, so I went on with what they needed to learn, and I got a very minor-league buzz from the board markers in the process.

Kidding about the buzz, but my years in the classroom have helped me learn my content enough that I can teach most of it off the cuff, with no notes if I have too, and those same years have also taught me that I can make it more interesting using technology, art, music, and yoga balls.

However, the State of Georgia, specifically Governor Deal, wants to change the teachers’ pay scale so we wouldn’t get credit for those years that gave us the wisdom we put to work daily.  He envisions a plan that would measure our value by what our students score on one test, compared to the scores of the kids who took it the year before.  There are so many flaws in that logic.  Stick around. I’ll write about those, too, eventually.

But even with other pieces of flawed logic, the core of Deal’s suggestion that experience and education don’t count in a classroom is so many negative things, I have to make a list.  It is:

  • fallacious,
  • insulting,
  • ridiculous,
  • politically-motivated,
  • financially irresponsible.

I could go on, but it really comes to this:  Governor Deal, if you think you (or anyone with your classroom experience) can teach kids barely into their teens how to develop fluidity, flexibility, and frequency in their writing by revising sentences,  go for it.

We teachers with our useless experience and education would love to learn from you, and hear the great metaphor you can come up with to help the kids remember the different types of sentences.

______________________________

For more information on this kerfuffle:

http://getschooled.blog.ajc.com/2015/07/15/governor-proposes-changes-to-school-funding-teachers-say-theyre-being-ignored/

http://m.ajc.com/news/news/local-education/gov-deals-education-reform-commission-pushes-back-/nmbdw/

http://dianeravitch.net/2015/08/01/georgia-joins-the-race-to-the-bottom-in-its-effort-to-discount-teachers-experience/

And because I think it’s awesome that teachers are finally, tentatively, starting to speak out, read the comments posted on the Governor’s Facebook page:

PS:  Miss Hawley, Mrs. Pearson, Miss Garringer, Mrs. Bishop, Mrs. Pallant: Thank you.

Dirty Money: Teacher Merit Pay

Dirty Money: Teacher Merit Pay

I don’t have a moral high ground here because I got merit pay this summer, was excited about it, and spent it, but I don’t believe that I deserve it more than many other teachers I know.  It’s an unfair system that leaves out entire populations of teachers, and rewards those of us who have left behind the truly challenging classrooms for an easier population of students.

In my county, there are about 400 teachers who received a $2500 bonus in their August 1 paycheck. It was based on our TKES scores for 2014-15, and our student achievement scores for 2013-2014.  Throw in some voodoo math, and they came up with the list.

The first problem is that the student achievement score measurement is completely faulty.  To get this number, they compare 2012-13 scores to 2013-14 scores, and see how much improvement there is.  The scores measured are EOCT scores in whatever subject is taught.  Do you see the problem?  The scores being compared are completely different sets of students.  Any experienced teacher will tell you that each class (as in the entire grade level), has a different set of characteristics.

Here’s a “for instance.”

The freshmen class of 2012-13 had a fantastic experience with ELA.  But their math teacher was out on sick leave and family leave for a lot of the year.  They won’t have the math skills and knowledge of a group who had a fulltime, highly qualified math teacher.  Their math teacher for 2013-14 is starting off lower with that group than she did in previous years.  Her year with those students will be more challenging because she’ll be playing catch up AND teaching current curriculum.  Her scores will likely not be as high, through no fault of her own.  She won’t get merit pay, because it will look like her student achievement has gone down, when in reality, those kids learned a lot, but they started out behind.

And that brings me to problem #2.  I’m lucky.  I teach at a specialty school. My students have to apply to get in, keep their grades up and behavior on point, or they get sent back to their homeschool  We only offer honors academics. Sounds great, right?  It is.  I only had one student fail the EOCT in 13-14.  The year prior to that was at my former school, where I had eight students fail it.  My achievement numbers kicked butt, not so much because I’m awesome at what I do, but because I moved to a higher achieving school.

My former co-workers, who still teach in a regular high school, for the most part, did not get merit pay.  Why?  Because their kids are all the other kids who aren’t in private school or specialty schools.  That’s not to say they didn’t make progress, but the voodoo math used to determine merit pay compares from year to year, not by the student.

And here’s another issue.  I know a teacher who had a 100% pass rate on her student’s EOCTs.  How do you improve from that?  Will they measure the percent of students who score above a certain score?  Or is that teacher doomed to not get merit pay precisely because she had really good scores.

If education policy makers want to make this fair, measure the student at the beginning of the year and at the end of the year. The difference between the beginning and the end for each student would be a much truer numerical indicator of a teacher’s success in the classroom.   Comparing the scores of two different sets of students isn’t truly measuring student achievement.  I’ve been railing against this amongst my coworkers for years, but like any teacher can tell you, policy makers have rarely spent much time in a classroom.

There are also whole groups of teachers who are excluded from this system.  Teachers who teach adaptive curriculum for example, the students who are learning to feed themselves and getting to the alphabet in high school, aren’t eligible, because their work doesn’t fit into a strictly numeric model.  Trust me when I say that teachers who teach kids whose adult diapers they have to change deserve more than a “I could never do your job” from their leaders.

Finally, even in a classroom where there is a numeric way to measure student progress, there is so much more to teaching than just the numbers. You can’t monetize mourning the death of a student with his peers, nor can you mathematically extrapolate the impact that death has on tests taken by his peers two weeks after his funeral.  You can’t numerically measure the emotional impact a teacher has on a student struggling with mental illness, hunger, abuse, loneliness, and any other number of issues we handle before we can get to compound sentences. I understand that the TKES model is supposed to take that into consideration.  However, our administrators rarely see all of the social and emotional teaching we do.  If a teacher is lucky, like I am right now, the administrators understand this, and pay attention to the culture and interaction the teacher has in the halls and in the classroom.

If merit pay were based on my suggestion, my peers in regular schools with regular students would actually have a chance at merit pay.  As it stands now, I feel like a complete hypocrite for complaining about a merit pay system that, just last week put new shoes on my feet and dressier work clothes in my closet.

I don’t feel like I’m something special because my students scored well on the test; what I feel is a general unease; I am definitely not as good a teacher as a lot of the people I have worked with who didn’t get merit pay.  I’ve seen them teach, been in their classrooms, and watched their students improve, regardless of their population. I’ve heard students talk about their experiences in other classrooms, and how much they learned from those other teachers.  But the system doesn’t measure actual individual student improvement.  If it did, the merit pay competition would be a completely different contest.