Showing posts with label Civic Activism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Civic Activism. Show all posts

Thursday, January 9, 2020

My Testimony Regarding the Governor's Proposed Budget for Education in Virginia

I definitely owe the education blogosphere a post about my post-doc job market experience (hint: it was not good). For now, I will share that I am back in the classroom teaching high school U.S. & Virginia Government to seniors (and getting my butt whooped but in a humbling and valuable way, though), and have been since the start of the 2019-2020 School Year. I  need to write a post about that, too. Good things come to those who wait, right? In the meantime, I have been involved with VEU (Virginia Educators United) because, oh, wait, I am a teacher again, and I heeded their leaders' call to attend the General Assembly's House Appropriations and Senate Finance Committees' public hearings to hear feedback on the Governor's budget priorities. The issues with the education funding in the budget are laid out very clearly here in VEU's talking points.

Here's a video of my testimony:


And here's the text from my spoken remarks:

"Good afternoon. My name is Rachel Levy and I am a Virginia public school parent, teacher, writer and activist with a Ph.D. in educational leadership and policy. I live in Ashland, Virginia, I am a member of VEA, Virginia Educators United, the Virginia PTA, and the American Educational Research Association.

The Governor’s budget proposal for education is a step in the right direction, but unfortunately, it’s not sufficient.

I have been a teacher on and off for most of my career. Teaching is the most meaningful, challenging, intellectual, and socially useful work there is. As a teacher and a parent, I have seen the quality of our facilities, the availability of our resources, and teacher retention rates drop significantly since I first stepped into a Virginia public school classroom in 2001 and since my own children first enrolled in them in 2009. Our schools are being held together by a thread--of educators and staff who do so out of a sense of obligation, duty, and service. We have less time, more responsibilities, and fewer resources to do the same job we used to, and there are, understandably, fewer people willing to work unpaid overtime and for diminished salaries and benefits, just to fulfill minimum requirements, because it’s not sustainable or manageable, nor is it fair.

As a state, we will never attract the best and brightest with these working and learning conditions, and with the current salaries and resources It is easy to work a ten-, twelve-, or fifteen-hour day as a teacher—I do this regularly—and still feel that it’s not enough, and to go home feeling like there was so much more you could have done. The best teachers know when their students are being short-changed, and they will leave (and have left and are leaving) rather than continue to experience that feeling of inadequacy day after day.

Adding more to the budget—at least 2 billion more is needed—for education is vital to our economy, to the intellectual, social/emotional development of our children, and to our democracy. Our public schools are our greatest public democratic institution and they are holding on by a thread. As the saying goes: if you think education is expensive, try ignorance.

Thank you for your time and for your service to our Commonwealth."


Monday, February 25, 2019

The latest from #Red4EdVA land

The last time I posted was a little over a month ago and it was about the RedforEd movement in Virginia, #Red4EdVA. The march and rally took place on Monday, January 28th, and it was an amazing event. I tweeted and retweeted lots about it, for example:


A few days later, the blackface yearbook photos from Governor Ralph Northam's yearbook surfaced, then the allegations of sexual assault against the Lieutenant Governor Justin Fairfax, and then Attorney General Mark Herring's admission that he, too, had worn blackface, at a college party at the University of Virginia. And a great many of us got sidelined (I also posted and tweeted a lot on that subject.)

I did manage to publish this piece about it in the Progressive:
The #Red4Ed movement has kicked off in Virginia: On January 28, as many as 5,000 public school teachers, educators, workers, parents, students, and other stakeholders marched on the Virginia state capitol in Richmond to demand fully funded public schools. The march and rally, organized by Virginia Educators United, a “grassroots campaign” of teachers, staff members, parents and community members, was one of the largest to descend on the state capitol in the last century. 
The well-organized event was supported by strategic use of social media and a user-friendly website. The group’s demands include restoring funding for education to pre-2008 recession levels, increasing teacher pay to national averages, paying education support professionals competitive wages, recruitment and retention of highly qualified teachers and more teachers of color, more funding for school infrastructure costs, and ensuring sufficient numbers of support staff like counselors and social workers. 
The day of the rally, Virginia lawmakers pledged to fund Governor Ralph Northam’s initiative to provide teachers and school staff with a five percent pay increase. This raise, however, is only for certain state-mandated positions, and localities can’t or won’t always provide the required matching funds.
You can read the whole thing here.

In the meantime, the Virginia General Assembly did pass a budget; session just ended. The VEA (Virginia Education Association) called the budget, "a first step to adequate funding." You can read their press release here.  However, many in the VEU (Virginia Educators United) group don't seem so sanguine. See this post on facebook for example:



It will be interesting to see what happens in the coming year before next year's session--if local VEA and Virginia AFT units draw more members and get more organized, if sufficient numbers decide, and are able, to take things to the next level and organize some sort of state-wide strike or work stoppage.




Monday, January 21, 2019

I proudly support RedforEd Virginia


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For various reasons (which I hope to be able to blog about at some point), I am way late in getting on this bandwagon. Now that I am on it, I want everyone else to be on it, too.

RED FOR ED HAS ARRIVED IN VIRGINIA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(Can you tell I'm excited?)


I hope you will join me and other Virginia pro-public education stakeholders (and national education leaders including Randi Weingarten and Lily Eskelsen Garcia!!!) for the. . .

RedforEdVARoute.jpg

What: The #RedforEd March & Rally
When: Monday, January 28th, 2019 at 11:00 am
Where: Richmond, Virginia. Starts at Monroe Park (620 West Main Street) and finishes at the Virginia State Capitol (1000 Bank Street Street)
Why (from the website):
Virginia Educators United is a grassroots campaign made of teachers, staff members, parents and community members who are fighting to ensure that after 10 years of systematic defunding, our children get the support they deserve. Our goal is to ensure that students have access to highly qualified and experienced teachers, that educators are compensated fairly, and to improve the educational environment in the state of Virginia. . . . In Virginia, the time of waiting for political winds to shift in our favor is over. Our salaries languish in the lowest tier nationally, below pre-Recession levels. Overcrowded, over-tested, and under-resourced schools are crumbling under the weight of deferred maintenance and declining investment. Our children, our communities and our Commonwealth deserve better.

Red4EdVA is way more than just a one-day rally. It's a movement. And it's been a loooong time coming. I am so, so grateful to all of the Virginia educators who have organized it. For more information:

- Please check out the (excellent) website: 


- Follow social media accounts on twitter:
 @Red4EdVA, on facebook: @virginiaeducatorsunited, and on Instagram virginiaeducators.

- Use the hashtags:
 #Red4EdVA   #FundOurSchools   #RedForEd    #Red4Ed

- Watch this awesome (one of many) videos: 

- Share this post!


AmoMEP.jpgRedStrips.jpg

Thursday, September 21, 2017

Confederate public school names do harm

This past May, some colleagues and I published an article in the Journal of Cases in Educational Leadership (JCEL) about a high school in Virginia (it's a composite) named for the leader of the secessionist Confederate Army, Robert E. Lee. I blogged about that article here. I have watched and studied the issue of Confederate-named public schools and mascots with great interest over the course of the past few years, bookmarking dozens of articles (maybe someday I will do a study about it).  However, I have more than a scholarly interest in this.

Ever since Charlottesville, across the state of Virginia, and country, counties and cities have been reconsidering their Confederate-named schools and mascots. In Virginia alone, so far I know of efforts in Arlington, Fairfax, and Prince William Counties. There's one Virginia county, however, where the School Board is studiously not reconsidering their Confederate-named schools and mascots, and that's the county where I live, Hanover.

About five or six years ago, I realized the importance of local and state education policy and decided to get much more active at those levels. I wrote about that here. I have been very open and public with my advocacy efforts, but I have mostly privately expressed consternation about and advocated for holding public discussions about the two Confederate-named schools and mascots in Hanover County Public Schools (note: these schools are not in my district, or part of the county): Lee-Davis High School (mascot: Confederates) and Stonewall-Jackson Middle School (mascot: the Rebels). The names promote white supremacy and are shameful and harmful to students and community members. Needless to say, my efforts have not resulted in any movement.

Certainly, other Hanover County Public Schools stakeholders have also advocated about the name and mascots over the years, but after Charlottesville happened, advocacy around this issue got new urgency.  More Hanover residents and Lee-Davis High School and Stonewall-Jackson Middle School community members and alumni started speaking up. For example, an alumnus named Ryan Leach, started this effort on facebook which includes an eloquent and compelling statement as to why the names should be changed, and which led to this larger petition addressed to the School Board. I came across this letter written to the Hanover School Board by another alumna, Mary Murrell, about why the names and mascots should be changed. I don't normally post about local matters here but I was so impressed with how well-written and -researched Mary's letter was and thought it so relevant to the greater issue, that I asked her if I could share it.

Here it is:

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

August 24, 2017


Dear Hanover County School Board,

I am a graduate of Lee-Davis High School (class of 1981) and have recently joined hundreds of people in signing a petition asking you to change the name of Lee-Davis High School. As I have additional thoughts about the name, I wanted to write you directly and lay out why I believe this action is urgently needed. I also want to include Stonewall Jackson Middle School, which I attended in 1977-78, to the discussion.


The Context in which Lee-Davis Was Named

As you likely know, when the name of Lee-Davis was chosen in May 1958, Virginia was defiantly refusing to integrate its public schools. At that time, Virginia remained one of only seven states that still maintained segregated schools, even though the Supreme Court had handed down its unanimous ruling in Brown v. Board of Education four years earlier.[i] Successive Virginia governors had called for statewide “massive resistance” to that ruling, and Virginia’s legislature passed a series of laws that defied federal orders to desegregate its schools.[ii]

In 1958, despite Brown vs. Board of Education, the county was busy planning two new all-white high schools: one for the eastern end and one for the western end. Black students would continue to attend the county’s only “negro” high school, located in Ashland.[iii] The School Board chose to name the eastern end high school Lee-Davis. According to the minutes of the May 6, 1958, School Board meeting, the Board did so “in the memory and honor of two prominent members of the Confederacy,” Robert E. Lee and Jefferson Davis.[iv]

How and Why the Name Lee-Davis Was Chosen

Various rumors have circulated about how and why the School Board arrived at the name Lee-Davis. I have looked into what evidence exists in the public record. At the time of the May 1958 naming, the Richmond-Times Dispatch reported only that the School Board approved the name “on recommendation by a special committee.”[v] The Herald-Progress provides more precise details.[vi] The new eastern end high school was to consolidate two existing overcrowded high schools (Battlefield Park and Washington-Henry). Earlier in the year, juniors from the two schools independently considered names for what would become their new school.[vii] Each group of students submitted just one name: the Battlefield High students recommended the name Jefferson Davis; the Washington-Henry High students recommended the name William White, in honor of a teacher at both high schools who had been killed in World War II.[viii]

Later, the County School Board would choose a different name: Lee-Davis. The new name came from B. W. Sadler, the School Board member representing the Henry district.[ix] The school was in a hurry to name itself, as it was already May and officials were hoping the school could open in September. Because students at Battlefield Park were nicknamed “the rebels,” and the students at Washington-Henry were nicknamed “the statesmen,” Sadler thought that his name captured a bit of both. Jefferson Davis, he reasoned, had been a rebel, so his name fit with the Battlefield Park side, and Robert E. Lee, a general and a statesman, suited the Washington-Henry side. Sadler also added that the combination of the two names Lee and Davis into one hyphenated name had “individuality.”

The Context of the Naming of Stonewall Jackson

Even after the last of the massive resistance laws were ruled unconstitutional in 1959, Virginia continued to fight school integration. Some school systems were closed entirely rather than admit black students. Full integration would require the passage of the Civil Rights Act in 1964. And yet, even with that landmark legislation, Hanover County was among the last counties in Virginia to fully integrate its schools.[x] Spurred on by a lawsuit brought by the parents of black students, Hanover County finally fully integrated its public schools with the 1969-70 school year—a full fifteen years after Brown v. Board of Education and ten years after Lee-Davis opened.

That first year of full integration, 1969, presented an opportunity to replace the name Lee-Davis with a more inclusive or at least neutral name such as Mechanicsville High. Unfortunately, that renaming did not happen. Rather, the Hanover County School Board chose for its new junior high school, adjacent to Lee-Davis, yet another confederate name: Stonewall Jackson Junior High.

Why the School Names Need to be Changed

Public schools have the legal obligation to provide an education to all children and to treat their students equally. Public schools are powerful institutions that shape and influence their students for years to come. School names such as Lee-Davis and Stonewall Jackson – along with their attendant mascots and nicknames – are as much public symbols of the Confederacy as monuments, statues, and the Confederate flag.[xi] When the Hanover County School Board chose in 1958 to honor prominent men precisely for their association with the Confederacy, it sent a message to the public and to its students. This message said, and continues to say, that public authorities in Hanover County esteem and celebrate the Confederacy. It is wrong for the Hanover County Public Schools to do this for the following reasons:

Paying homage to the Confederacy through naming, mimicry, and memorialization disdains, insults, and alienates black students. No matter how common or “normal” symbols of the Confederacy are throughout Virginia, they are never neutral. Confederate symbols convey a message of domination and exclusion. When a public school honors the Confederacy, it conveys a preference for the concerns and interests of the historically dominant social group (whites) in the South at the same time that it conveys a lack of sympathy and even contempt for the historically dominated group (blacks). When a public school honors the Confederacy, it tells non-white students that Hanover is a white person’s county and that they don’t belong in the same way that whites do. By sending these messages – not limited to those I’ve listed – a public school betrays the spirit of equality that is fundamental to public education. When our public authorities continue to pay homage to the Confederacy, black (and also immigrant) students can never be sure they will be treated fairly. A community cannot prosper if any group of citizens is alienated or feels targeted for discrimination.

Virginia and Hanover County’s defiance with regard to school integration during the Civil rights era is a regrettable legacy that needs to be redressed not perpetuated. It has been shown that Confederate symbols spiked in two distinct historical periods.[xii] The first period was the early 20th century, after Reconstruction, when white supremacy again took hold in the South, the Ku Klux Klan gained power, and southern states passed Jim Crow laws that terrorized black citizens. The second spike occurred during the civil rights period from 1950-1970, when Southerners forcefully resisted federal efforts aimed at integration. Both Lee-Davis and Stonewall Jackson were named during this period. Lee-Davis was named amid Virginia’s “massive resistance,” and Stonewall Jackson was named in very year that Hanover County belatedly integrated its public schools for real. Notably, no schools in Hanover have been named after Confederate figures since this time. The School Board has chosen non-controversial place names like Atlee, Pole Green, and Hanover for the newest schools. This is all for the good but it does not alleviate the prior problem of Lee-Davis and Stonewall Jackson.

The Confederacy was founded upon and committed to abhorrent beliefs, and public institutions should not in any way associate themselves with such beliefs. Southern states, including Virginia, seceded from the United States in order to preserve slavery in the South and to extend it into the territories. Since the 1950s, there is no longer any dispute among academic historians about the reasons for the Civil War.[xiii] Slavery was a system of oppression under-girded by the belief that white people were superior to black people. Its leaders, such as Alexander Stephens, did not believe, as the Declaration of Independence declares, that all men were created equal but, rather, that slavery was “the natural and normal condition” of black people.[xiv] There is no “racially friendly” case for the Confederacy, no matter how passionately some people, including many in the Lee-Davis community, insist there is.

Celebrations of the Confederacy depend upon discredited history that was promulgated after the South lost the Civil War, and, as such, these celebrations mis-educate young people about the past. After the defeat of the Confederacy, its former leaders (and others) cultivated a revised version of events that sanitized the Civil War as one fought over states rights, “Southern honor,” the South’s superior agrarian way of life, and so forth. This new version of history gave rise to the romantic myth of the Lost Cause. This myth remains stubbornly popular -- especially, but not only, in the South – but, regardless, it is still a myth. A public school teaches history not myth. I am certain that Lee-Davis teachers teach proper history. But outside the classroom, students confront other ideas about the past. Lee-Davis calls itself the “home of the Confederates,” titles its yearbook The Confederate, incorporates two Confederate figures into its logo, and takes as its motto “Tradition and Pride.” In what traditions should its students be proud, exactly?

Honoring the Confederacy imposes a false heritage onto white students. Many students that attend or have attended Lee-Davis, including myself, do not consider the Confederacy to be part of their heritage, or, if they do, they do not take “pride” in it. I love many things about Virginia, and can find many things about its history and culture to be proud of, but its leadership in the Civil War and its continued tendency to defend and whitewash the Confederacy is not among them. The schools’ names should be changed because they encourage white students to believe that the Confederacy and its “traditions” are something that they should value and embrace, and that the Confederacy is a positive part of who they are and a positive source of their identity. A public school violates the public trust when it imposes such associations and values upon its students. Children in Hanover County schools – of any color or background – are not confederates. They should not be taught to carry the Confederacy in their hearts or to derive values from it.

What’s even more concerning is that Neo-Nazi groups are currently engaged in something similar. David Duke, the former Ku Klux Klan grand wizard, equates Confederate symbols such as statues, flags and schools with “white culture,” and Neo-Nazi groups, like the Klan before them, have embraced Confederate symbols, as seen at the recent Charlottesville “Unite the Right” march. These extremists have no hesitation in admitting that the Confederacy was about white supremacy—that’s why they want to associate with it.[xv] The Hanover School Board needs to seriously consider whether it is any longer possible to disentangle the Neo-Nazis’ Confederacy with the “romantic” Lost Cause Confederacy.[xvi]   

A Duty to Overcome the Discrimination of the Past

In discussions of changing Lee-Davis’s name, I have witnessed a lot of strong feelings. I believe such strong feelings arise precisely because current and former students have come to see being a “Confederate” as somehow an important part of their history, culture, and identity. I have argued throughout this letter that a public school should not play a role in promoting such an identity. But many people in the Lee-Davis community nevertheless do feel that “pride” that they have been encouraged to feel. You therefore cannot look to the current and former student body to resolve this issue through voting or petitions. They are likely only to deliver the status quo.

You will be criticized for whatever you do, I recognize that, but doing nothing is not an option. The Confederate names were chosen a long time ago. That was not your doing. But today you have the privilege and the power to undo them. The problem is not going to go away as long as the names remain. Small tweaks like saying “C-fed” instead of “Confederate” at football games do not solve anything; they only point to the problem that won’t go away. The divisiveness that surrounds the discussion of name change is already embedded in the names themselves. That divisiveness cannot be avoided, but it can be overcome. Changing the names is the way forward.

In 1966 a federal judge wrote, “The duty rests with the [Hanover County] School Board to overcome the discrimination of the past.”[xvii] It is 2017 and Hanover County has still not overcome the “discrimination of the past.” Lee-Davis’s mission statement says that the school aspires to “assure a quality education for success in a changing world.” Hanover County is part of that changing world. Please find new names for Lee-Davis High School and Stonewall Jackson Middle School.

Sincerely,

Mary Murrell, 
Class of 1981




[i] Kristen Green, Something Must Be Done About Prince Edward County: A Family, A Virginia Town, A Civil Rights Battle (New York: HarperCollins, 2015), p. 165.

[ii] There is a large literature on this subject. Bob Smith, They Closed Their Schools: Prince Edward County, Virginia, 1951-1964 (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1965); James Latimer, “The Rise and Fall of ‘Massive Resistance,” Richmond Times-Dispatch, Sept 22, 1996, A1, A9-A12; Ira M. Lechner, “Massive Resistance: Virginia’s Great Leap Backward,” Virginia Quarterly Review, 74:4 (1998); Matthew Lassiter and Andrew Lewis, eds. The Moderates’ Dilemma: Massive Resistance to School Desegregation in Virginia (Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, 1998); George Lewis, Massive Resistance: The White Response to the Civil Rights Movement (Oxford: Hodder Arnold, 2006), pp. 52ff.

[iii] Given the size of the county, some black students, especially those in the eastern side of the county, had to endure two-hour bus rides to school, in dilapidated and segregated buses—or not go at all. “Gandy High Alumni Reflect on School Days,” Herald-Progress, September 10, 2009, p. 1.

[iv] Hanover County School Board minute book, May 6, 1958.

[v] “Hanover School Named Lee-Davis,” Richmond-Times Dispatch, May 7, 1958.

[vi] Dan Sherrier, “The History of Lee-Davis and Patrick Henry High Schools,” Part II, Herald-Progress, October 2, 2008, pp. 2, 6.

[vii] In 2009, a student from the first graduating class told a reporter covering the 50th anniversary celebrations: "I remember sitting in Washington Henry and going through all these names…. We were trying to be really creative." Richmond Times-Dispatch April, 17, 2009.

[viii] Whether intended or not, the latter suggestion would have resulted in an all-white high school with the name “White High School.”

[ix] Sadler later became the School Board Chairman and, in 1966, earned lasting notoriety after the School Board banned To Kill a Mockingbird. Claudia Durst Johnson, “The Issue of Censorship,” pp. 3-22, in Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird ed. Harold Bloom (New York: Chelsea House, 2006). Sadler died in 1976.

[x] Herald-Progress, July 11, 1968. Cited in Dan Sherrier, “The History of Lee-Davis and Patrick Henry,” Part X, Herald-Progress December 11, 2008. See also Rebecca Bray and Dr. Lloyd Jones, The History of Education in Hanover County, Virginia, 1708-2008 (Ashland, VA: Hanover County Public Schools, 2010).

[xi] For a comprehensive list of Confederate symbols, including schools, see Whose Heritage? Public Symbols of the Confederacy. Montgomery, AL: Southern Poverty Law Center, 2016. Available at: https://www.splcenter.org/sites/default/files/whoseheritage_splc.pdf.

[xii] See Whose Heritage?

[xiii] James M. McPherson, “Southern Comfort,” New York Review of Books, April 21, 2001.

[xiv] McPherson, “Southern Comfort.”

[xv] For examples of white supremacists embracing the Confederacy for its racist ideology, see: Campbell Robertson, Alan Blinder, and Richard Fausset, “In Monument Debate, Calls for an Overdue Reckoning on Race and Southern Identity,” New York Times, August 18, 2017.

[xvii] Herald-Progress, February 3, 1966, Cited in Ben Sherrier, “History of Lee-Davis,” November 13, 2008, p. A-9.

Monday, January 23, 2017

#WomensMarch 2017


I was fortunate enough to be able to participate in the Women's March on Washington this past weekend. I went with my husband, parents, and my three children. My mom's sister was also there and so were my husband's parents. And countless friends and family friends were there. It was incredible. Like nothing I have ever seen or been a part of. Amazing. I have participated in many marches and demonstrations over the years, but it's not my favorite thing; I am more comfortable with writing and making phone calls and public meetings and with direct advocacy and activism, but I know showing up for marches and protests important, too.

Here are some things that I have been puzzling over regarding the march and that various friends and folks I follow on social media have brought up (thanks if you were one of them):

1. The march was not about any one thing or one issue. It did not mean the same thing to each participant. We should not try to dictate to people how they were supposed to experience it or what they were marching for. You can't give people prerequisites for marching. You can't screen them for participation according to life story, history of activism, or issues of importance (if any). A march is public event, this one with millions of people. And anyway, that's what diversity and pluralism and democracy looks like. Really, really messy. 

In addition, feminism is not one thing and no one person gets to define it or decide who does and doesn't practice it. In that vein, this commentary was illuminating and illogical:  The author makes some good points--about the Women's March not advocating enough for policies, though I think that's what's supposed to happen when you go home. Otherwise, she talks talks a big game about unity and big tent feminism but then says, for example, that a Muslim woman wearing a veil can't be feminist and implies that religious faith is disqualifying. Huh? Maybe her "inclusive liberal feminism" isn't so inclusive after all. And maybe she is exemplifying the problem. Keep in mind that inclusive means to include and respect, not necessarily to accept as your own beliefs.

2. That being said, although the Womens March (not just in DC) was intended to be intersectional, it may not have been for all participants. We should not deny people accounts of their own experiences even if they make us uncomfortable. Collectively, women have a lot of work to do internally, as a group.

For example, I thought the DC Metropolitan Police did a great job and I personally thanked several officers along the route. That was very encouraging and a good sign. However, the DC police are well-trained in handling protests (though so far I am hearing the police in other cities were also supportive and professional). And, while the March had a diverse set of participants, it also had a lot of white people. It might be uncomfortable, but we must ask ourselves if that might have been different, according to history, if there weren't so many white people in the march. Black Lives Matter and NoDPL protesters have been peaceful, too.

3. Do not confuse critique (yes, even of the march) with lack of support. Critique is usually a sign of engagement and care. You can go to the march and be critical at the same time. We can have a big, inclusive Women's March and still talk about the role, for example, of white supremacy within women's movements. The two aren't mutually exclusive. Talking about racism and other biases and differing views among groups of women does not cause division. It helps to heal them, in my opinion. And anyway . . . The divisions. Were. Already. There.  The airing of those divisions is healthy and what the march was partly about.

On the flip side, however, I don't have a lot of tolerance for people who get hung up on the critiques only, without learning the story and without doing anything to change them. I like to earn my right to complain first. I find that when I contribute to an effort, many of my criticisms are cured because I gain insights and empathies  I didn't have before. If you are criticizing, ask yourself: Did you, in two months time, help to organize the biggest march in U.S. History? Did you contribute in even a small way? No? Then your criticisms should include what you're going to do to fix them and how you are planning to contribute.

4. If you didn't go to the march because, for example, you're offended that a black woman pointed out that racism exists among womens rights activists and even among progressives, then you probably weren't that committed to going in the first place. 54% of white women voted for Trump. It's a fact. Look, I don't feel like those women are my people, either, and there are a lot of white people in the country. Given what we know now, I'm actually surprised the numbers weren't more of an overwhelming majority. But it's there, it's real, and get used to hearing about it.

If you didn't go because privileged white women were excited about going, then you are not being very savvy about growing your movement and gaining their support. If you didn't go because one or a few other people going or talking about going said something that made you uncomfortable or said something that exhibited racism or bias, well, there were around 4,000,000 people marching in this country and you let a handful keep you away. 

Of course, there have been accounts of white women objectifying women of color at the marches or becoming defensive upon seeing their signs. Not okay.

That all being said, it's important listen to why people didn't go or if they did why they didn't have a good experience. We will learn something.

5. There are a lot of parallels to the world of education (my world) here, especially since the K-12 teaching force is dominated by white women. We can all show up to a pro-public education march and still have critiques and work to do. 

There are also implications for our two-party system. The Republicans get everyone to show up and then they sort it out later. That's why they win. (Okay, they also actively work to suppress votes of people in the other party.) As the head of my local Democratic Committee told me the other day when I asked how the conservatives in our state senate district could justify voting for some inexperienced libertarian whom they knew nothing about instead of the highly experienced and broadly respected state legislator running for the Democrats in a recent special election. "Well," she said, "they just vote for the option they have with the plan to work on them once they're in office."

At this point, that sounds like a plan.

Friday, September 5, 2014

Pre-doctoral program warm-up: A look at high school teacher turnover in Hanover County, Virginia

This past summer in conjunction with a local public education advocacy group, Friends of Hanover Schools, that I am a part of, I engaged in a little pre-doctoral program warm-up. 

At a Hanover County School Board forum in the spring, I had expressed concern about high school teacher turnover  and was told more or less that my concerns were unfounded. Other members of the FOHS leadership team had also been long concerned about high school teacher turnover, so after they and I spent some time gathering information from the division, I compiled a report of my findings. Other members of the leadership team gave feedback and provided edits for the final version. I may do something with this later or I may decide it is too J-V :)

Here is a summary with links to the documents I used:


In the 2013-2014 school year, Hanover County Public Schools increased high school teachers’ workload and they went from teaching five of seven classes a day to teaching six of eight. After teachers protested the policy, saying it would affect the quality of instruction and feedback they’d be able to give students, Friends of Hanover Schools began to hear reports of low morale, of higher than average teacher resignations and retirements, and of increasing numbers of teachers seeking positions elsewhere. I took a closer look at the data regarding teacher turnover in Hanover and compiled a report of my findings which was distributed to school division leadership.

According to budget and retirements and resignations data provided by Hanover County Public Schools, the combined turnover rates for all four of the comprehensive high schools are:
School yearResignRetireTotalTotal teachersPercentage turnover
2004-200530636502.1917.17%
2005-200656561480.7312.69%
2006-200753760492.49112.18%
2007-2008551469500.49113.79%
2008-200927431496.3916.25%
2009-2010331043487.1918.83%
2010-2011381149474.19110.33%
2011-201231738465.9918.15%
2012-2013421153452.99111.70%
2013-2014*35540440.9919.07%
10 year average400804804795.64910.01%
*The data for 2013-2014 is as of August 6, 2014.

Other than the schedule re-alignment, several factors may have influenced teacher turnover in Hanover County such as the economic recession after 2007-2008, retirement incentives offered in 2007 – 2008, and school-site specific issues such as administrative instability or transition.

According to studies of teacher turnover (compiled by Mary Levy), the national average for teachers who leave a school district system leavers is 8% with higher poverty systems yielding closer to 15 – 20%. Hanover County high school teachers leave, on average, at a consistently higher rate than the national average. Furthermore, for the past two years, the percentage of turnover that can be attributed to high school teachers has grown to 43.5% of all teachers. In all other years, with one exception, the percentage was roughly one-third. Finally, based on an assumption of a teacher corps of 1500 teachers, the system-wide attrition rate was 6.87% for 2012-2013 and thus far 5.05% for 2013-2014, but the four high schools consistently have rates higher than that, closer to 10% on average.

The data available are limited but do paint a picture of close to double-digit turnover rates at the high school level, Furthermore, the numbers spiked in 2012-2013, when a policy change to a six of eight teaching schedule was announced.

FOHS and I urge the school division to undertake a more qualitative study of teacher satisfaction rates by:
  • Finding out more about the kind of teachers who are leaving. How much experience do they have? Are they National Board certified? Hanover Scholar Educators? STEM-area teachers? REB-award winners?
  • Opening up channels for all teachers and staff to give positive feedback and constructive criticism. Healthy schools and school systems are ones that welcome informed feedback of its employees.


Saturday, July 19, 2014

Schooled by Schooled (& Silicon Valley)

I finally read The New Yorker article ("Schooled") about education reform in Newark, New Jersey. I think it was a fair piece but before I continue, a disclaimer: I assume that anything I say here could be legitimately challenged or discounted given what people who are on the ground know (there is a, hint, hint, comments section at the bottom).

So, first, it's important (for me, at least) to understand the mindset of someone like Cory Booker (former mayor of Newark and current NJ senator) and in doing that, I will be linking to one other New Yorker article that has expanded my understanding of Booker et al's approach.

"Schooled" paints a fairly (in both senses of the word) damning picture of Cory Booker, one of someone of great ambition and desire for fame but who has forgotten to match that with engagement with public.

Now, Booker never switched "sides" on education reform, nor is he a Johnny-come-lately on the topic. His view has always been that public education as an institution has poorly served disadvantaged and marginalized people. He has also always been in favor of market-based solutions: vouchers, charters, privatization, etc, to remedy this. From "Schooled":
The school-reform movement, then dominated by conservative white Republicans, saw Booker as a valuable asset. In 2000, he was invited to speak at the Manhattan Institute, in New York. He was an electrifying speaker, depicting impoverished Newark residents as captives of nepotistic politicians, their children trapped in a “repugnant” school system. "I define public education not as a publicly guaranteed space and a publicly run, publicly funded building where our children are sent based on their Zip Code,” he said. “Public education is the use of public dollars to educate our children at the schools that are best equipped to do so—public schools, magnet schools, charter schools, Baptist schools, Jewish schools.”

Furthermore, Booker was in a big hurry. Big mistake.  It's not realistic to accomplish what he wanted to accomplish in just  three years and such haste makes, well, waste. (See my post about the ill-conceived pace of modern ed reform).
Booker, now a U.S. senator, said in a recent interview that he understood families’ fear and anger: “My mom—she would’ve been fit to be tied with some of what happened.” But he characterized the rancor as “a sort of nadir,” and predicted that in two or three years Newark could be a national model of urban education. “That’s pretty monumental in terms of the accomplishment that will be.”
And,
Booker acknowledged the missteps, but said that he had to move quickly. He and Christie could be out of office within three years. If a Democrat defeated Christie in 2013, he or she would have the backing of the teachers’ unions and might return the district to local control. “We want to do as much as possible right away,” Booker said. “Entrenched forces are very invested in resisting choices we’re making around a one-billion-dollar budget.” Participants in the meeting, who had worked for decades in Newark, were doubtful that reforms imposed over three years would be sustainable. 

Second mistake: Booker's plan was designed not of the people, by the people, for the people but of the philanthrocapitalists, by the consultants, and kind of, maybe for the people.
Early in the summer of 2010, Booker presented Christie with a proposal, stamped “Confidential Draft,” titled “Newark Public Schools—A Reform Plan.” It called for imposing reform from the top down; a more open political process could be taken captive by unions and machine politicians. Real change has casualties and those who prospered under the pre-existing order will fight loudly and viciously,” the proposal said. Seeking consensus would undercut real reform. One of the goals was to “make Newark the charter school capital of the nation.” The plan called for an “infusion of philanthropic support” to recruit teachers and principals through national school-reform organizations; build sophisticated data and accountability systems; expand charters; and weaken tenure and seniority protections. Philanthropy, unlike government funding, required no public review of priorities or spending. Christie approved the plan, and Booker began pitching it to major donors. 
In the previous decade, the foundations of Microsoft’s Bill Gates, the California real-estate and insurance magnate Eli Broad, the Walton family (of the Walmart fortune), and other billionaires from Wall Street to Silicon Valley had come to dominate charitable funding to education. Dubbed “venture philanthropists,” they called themselves investors rather than donors and sought returns in the form of sweeping changes to public schooling. In addition to financing the expansion of charter schools, they helped finance Teach for America and the development of the Common Core State Standards to increase the rigor of instruction.

So, now we see that Booker was rather modeling the reforms using a Silicon Valley model. He was highly influenced by Silicon Valley ideology and ethics and not just by Zukerberg (who if you read the article I am about to cite actually ventured outside of the Silicon valley bubble). To get a real sense of the Silicon Valley approach, read this other New Yorker article by George Packer "Change the World"--it really explains that ideology and ethics and how they are fueled by a sense of righteousness via technology, as in creating apps = act of social justice. Here Packer compares Silicon Valley entrepreneurs to financiers. When I read this article, I remember thinking, Oh, this is where so many Booker-type reformers get their language of education reform and social justice via entrepreneurialism, of "innovation," and of "revolution." This is why they sound like Apple ads.
When financiers say that they’re doing God’s work by providing cheap credit, and oilmen claim to be patriots who are making the country energy-independent, no one takes them too seriously—it’s a given that their motivation is profit. But when technology entrepreneurs describe their lofty goals there’s no smirk or wink. “Many see their social responsibility fulfilled by their businesses, not by social or political action,” one young entrepreneur said of his colleagues. “It’s remarkably convenient that they can achieve all their goals just by doing their start-up.” He added, “They actually think that Facebook is going to be the panacea for many of the world’s problems. It isn’t cynicism—it’s arrogance and ignorance.”
Also, within that there is a disdain for politics, government, and inherently in that for democratic processes:
The technology industry, by sequestering itself from the community it inhabits, has transformed the Bay Area without being changed by it—in a sense, without getting its hands dirty. Throughout most of Silicon Valley’s history, its executives have displayed a libertarian instinct to stay as far from politics and government as possible. Reid Hoffman described the attitude this way: “Look what I can do as an individual myself—everyone else should be able to do that, too. I can make a multibillion-dollar company with a little bit of investment. Why can’t the whole world do that?” But the imperative to change the world has recently led some Silicon Valley leaders to imagine that the values and concepts behind their success can be uploaded to the public sphere.
From Zuckerberg's former roommate Joe Green:
“People in tech, when they talk about why they started their company, they tend to talk about changing the world,” Green said. “I think it’s actually genuine. On the other hand, people are just completely disconnected from politics. Partly because the operating principles of politics and the operating principles of tech are completely different.” Whereas politics is transactional and opaque, based on hierarchies and handshakes, Green argued, technology is empirical and often transparent, driven by data.
And, Marc Andreessen, a partner in the venture-capital firms, Andreessen Horowitz:
 Andreessen described to me the stages of the industry’s attitude toward political engagement. The first, prevailing in the seventies and eighties, was “Just leave us alone. Let us do our thing.” T. J. Rodgers, the founder of Cypress Semiconductor, said that anyone who got involved in politics was making a big mistake, warning, “If you talk to these people, they’ll just get in your ass.” The Valley’s libertarianism—which ignores the federal government’s crucial role in providing research money—is less doctrinal than instinctive. Andreessen said, “It’s very possible for somebody to show up here—a twenty-four-year-old engineer who’s completely state of the art in building companies and products—and have had absolutely no exposure at all to politics, social issues, history. When the government shows up, it’s bad news. They go, ‘Oh, my God, government is evil, I didn’t understand how bad it was. We must fight it.’ ”
You should read the whole thing, I can't do justice to it here (or quote the whole thing despite my efforts) except to say that it will you teach you a lot about where some strains of education reform are coming from, about the way many of these reformers think. They are applying Silicon Valley thinking and solutionism to problems of public democratic institutions. In some cases they are deeply influenced by it but in others they are just paying lip service, just parroting; they don't actually understand what they're saying, nor if you consider the implications of standardization, do they really practice what they preach. I agree with Packer here:
Technology can be an answer to incompetence and inefficiency. But it has little to say about larger issues of justice and fairness, unless you think that political problems are bugs that can be fixed by engineering rather than fundamental conflicts of interest and value. Evgeny Morozov, in his new book “To Save Everything, Click Here,” calls this belief “solutionism.” Morozov, who is twenty-nine and grew up in a mining town in Belarus, is the fiercest critic of technological optimism in America, tirelessly dismantling the language of its followers. “They want to be ‘open,’ they want to be ‘disruptive,’ they want to ‘innovate,’ ” Morozov told me. “The open agenda is, in many ways, the opposite of equality and justice. They think anything that helps you to bypass institutions is, by default, empowering or liberating. You might not be able to pay for health care or your insurance, but if you have an app on your phone that alerts you to the fact that you need to exercise more, or you aren’t eating healthily enough, they think they are solving the problem.”

Back to "Schooled," while Booker looks self-serving and out of touch, Cami Anderson is portrayed as being far from the devil incarnate she is painted by some of her critics. Certainly, most of her career she has surrounded herself with the top-down, market-based reformers. Plus, her take-no-constructive-criticism management style is a deal breaker, serving as a legitimate impediment to progress, especially if you look at actions of her recent tenure such as the One Newark plan and the dismissal of employees who publicly criticized her policies. But otherwise there are a number of passages that belie the existence of some balance, for example,
Christie appointed Anderson in May, 2011. It quickly emerged that she differed with her bosses about the role of charter schools in urban districts. She pointed out that, with rare exceptions, charters served a smaller proportion than the district schools of children who lived in extreme poverty, had learning disabilities, or struggled to speak English. Moreover, charter lotteries disproportionately attracted the “choosers”—parents with the time to navigate the process. Charters in Newark were expected to enroll forty per cent of the city’s children by 2016. That would leave the neediest sixty per cent in district schools. Booker, Christie, and Zuckerberg expected Anderson to revive the district, yet as children and revenue were siphoned off she would have to close schools and dismiss teachers. Because of the state’s seniority rules, the most junior teachers would go first. Anderson called this “the lifeboat theory of education reform,” arguing that it could leave a majority of children to sink as if on the Titanic. “Your theories of change are on a collision course,” she told Cerf and Booker. As Anderson put it to me, “I told the Governor . . . I did not come here to phase the district out.”
Anderson acknowledged the successes of the top charter schools, but Newark faced the conundrum common to almost every urban school system: how to expand charters without destabilizing traditional public schools.
And it sounds as if Anderson started out okay:
One of her prime initiatives in her first two years was to close and consolidate the twelve lowest-performing kindergarten-through-eighth-grade schools into eight “renew schools.” Each was assigned a principal who, borrowing from the charter model, would choose his or her own teaching staff. The schools also got math and literacy coaches and smart boards, along with the new curricula. Teachers worked an extended day and two extra weeks in the summer. Anderson intended to create “proof points” that would show how to turn around failing district schools. 
The eight consolidated schools opened in the fall of 2012, and most won strong support from parents. At the hundred-year-old Peshine Avenue School, in the South Ward, Chaleeta Barnes, the new principal, and Tameshone Lewis, the vice-principal, both had deep Newark roots, and parents, teachers, and children responded well to their insistence on higher standards. They replaced more than half the previous year’s teachers, and the new staff coördinated efforts to improve instruction and address individual students’ academic and discipline issues. 
Teachers worked closely with children who couldn’t keep up, and many of them saw improvement, but the effects of children’s traumas outside school posed bigger problems. The father of a student in Shakel Nelson’s fifth-grade math class had been murdered early in the school year. When Nelson sat beside his desk and encouraged him, he sometimes solved problems, but as she moved on he put his head down and dropped his pencil. A girl who was excelling early in the year stopped trying when her estranged, emotionally disturbed parents resumed contact and began fighting. 
The quality of teaching and the morale in most of the renew schools improved, but only Peshine made modest gains in both math and literacy on state tests. Six others declined in one subject or both, and the seventh remained unchanged in one and increased in one. This wasn’t surprising. It takes more than a year for reforms to take hold and show up in test scores. Across the district, in Anderson’s first two years, the percentage of students passing the state’s standardized tests declined in all but two of the tested grades. She questioned the validity of the tests, saying that they had become harder and the students needier, although she used them to determine which schools were failing and required overhaul. After her first year, she announced a ten-per-cent gain in the high-school graduation rate, but A.C.T. scores indicated that only two per cent of juniors were prepared for college. 
Anderson recognized that the schools needed more social and emotional support, but pointed out that Newark already spent more money per student than almost every other district in the country. She urged principals to shift their existing budgets accordingly. “There’s no pot of gold,” she said.
Also, she knew the trade-offs. One of my (and others) biggest critiques of the reformers is that they say they only are "for the kids" but they don't seem to connect in any meaningful way the kids' success to the success via decent working conditions and living wages of their parents. I've written about this before. It's hard to believe they are "for the kids" when their education reform industry feeds off of profits squeezed out of the kids' parents. Wal-Mart under-pays Mr. Smith (not to mention factory workers who work on the supply side). Walmart makes huge profits. Huge profits go into foundation and pay Jane TFA Edu-crat's salary. Anderson, however, seemed to understand the value to the public of a vigorous public sector:
Improbably, a district with a billion dollars in revenue and two hundred million dollars in philanthropy was going broke. Anderson announced a fifty-seven-million-dollar budget gap in March, 2013, attributing it mostly to the charter exodus. She cut more than eighteen million dollars from school budgets and laid off more than two hundred attendance counsellors, clerical workers, and janitors, most of them Newark residents with few comparable job prospects. “We’re raising the poverty level in Newark in the name of school reform,” she lamented to a group of funders. “It’s a hard thing to wrestle with.”
It's incredible how much both Booker and Anderson have spent on consultants. This is also the case in other reformy systems such as DCPS. In fact, NCLB is sometimes referred to as No Consultant Left Behind.
During the next two years, more than twenty million dollars of Zuckerberg’s gift and matching donations went to consulting firms with various specialties: public relations, human resources, communications, data analysis, teacher evaluation. Many of the consultants had worked for Joel Klein, Teach for America, and other programs in the tight-knit reform movement, and a number of them had contracts with several school systems financed by Race to the Top grants and venture philanthropy. The going rate for individual consultants in Newark was a thousand dollars a day. Vivian Cox Fraser, the president of the Urban League of Essex County, observed, “Everybody’s getting paid, but Raheem still can’t read.”
Once Anderson was appointed, this reckless spending on consultants continued:
Anderson turned her immediate attention to the district’s schools. She gave principals more flexibility and introduced new curricula aligned to the Common Core standards. Using $1.8 million from the Foundation for Newark’s Future, she hired the nonprofit consulting group TNTP, in part to develop more rigorous evaluation systems. In her first year, the foundation gave her a four-million-dollar grant to hire consultants at her own discretion.
And:
Anderson spent much of the fall working with data analysts from the Parthenon Group, an international consulting firm that received roughly three million dollars over two years from Newark philanthropy.

Also, what occurred in Newark seems to confirm that the reform plan involves orchestrating "failure" of the public schools. Particularly disturbing is the account of two Newark principals (charter and division) working together to decrease criminal activity on school grounds wherein the district principal had to ask the charter principal to place the call to police because he knew they would respond to her versus him. This is unconscionable:
Jackson had never got the police to respond adequately to his pleas for improved security. Gangs periodically held nighttime rites on school grounds, and Jackson reported them without result. One night, a month after spark settled into Carver, a security camera captured images of nine young men apparently mauling another.When Jackson and Belcher arrived the next morning, they found bloody handprints on the wall and blood on the walkway. His and Belcher’s calls to police and e-mails to the superintendent’s staff went unanswered. At Jackson’s request, Belcher e-mailed the Mayor, attaching three pictures of the bloody trail on “the steps our K-2 scholars use to enter the building.” Twenty minutes later, Booker responded: “Joanna, your email greatly concerned me. I have copied this email to the police director who will contact you as soon as possible. Cory.” The police director, Sam DeMaio, called, and the precinct captain and the anti-gang unit visited the school. Police presence was stepped up, and the gang moved on.

Shavar Jeffries, one of the recent Newark mayoral candidates, the one who lost, sums up the situation well:
Shavar Jeffries believes that the Newark backlash could have been avoided. Too often, he said, “education reform . . . comes across as colonial to people who’ve been here for decades. It’s very missionary, imposed, done to people rather than in coöperation with people.” Some reformers have told him that unions and machine politicians will always dominate turnout in school-board elections and thus control the public schools. He disagrees: “This is a democracy. A majority of people support these ideas. You have to build coalitions and educate and advocate.” As he put it to me at the outset of the reform initiative, “This remains the United States. At some time, you have to persuade people.”

People like Cami Anderson, even if full of hubris, may start out with a balanced perspective and with a plan to improve public institutions from within and in partnership with the public. But while, indeed, leadership style was a problem in Newark, I mostly see it as a problem of plutocracy and of the continued disenfranchisement of disadvantages and marginalized communities in the name of education reform.

There is no incentive or obligation to be accountable to the people on the receiving end of current education policies. People like Cami Anderson don't seem to feel that they are answerable to the public. Rather, they are accountable to politicians and to "investors." On top of that, there's the influence of government-is-the-problem libertarians and enablers from Silicon Valley, replete with intolerance of democratic processes.

This is much like the problems I see with the Common Core in that even if the standards are good, they will falter if filtered through our rigid, skill-based testing accountability structure. People like Cami Anderson, dictatorial style aside, who might be knowledgeable and passionate about education and about educating children who have been ill-served by public institutions, will also falter when their leadership is filtered through the plutocratic blob that seems to have railroaded our democracy.