Resistance is Futile

I’ve been thinking about data a lot recently. It’s pretty much unavoidable here in the overly-large school district, where the rising tide of collecting and analyzing student data is starting to overwhelm everything else.

We start with Virginia’s standardized testing program, similar to those in other states, which replaces most learning activities in the late spring. Plus a variety of other required “assessments” for various purposes that students must take throughout the rest of the year.

However, most of the growth in student data collection comes from a combination of “professional learning communities” and our home-grown online practice testing system.

For the past three years at our annual Leadership Conference (the August kickoff for school administrators and others), the superintendent has decreed that everyone will participate in PLCs. Which would be a good thing if they were actually focused on learning and were communities of learners that had developed organically.

In most cases, they are neither.

Teachers discussing their required PLCs normally refer to them as “meetings” (assigning all the high regard most of us have for such events) rather than communities. The primary purpose of these meetings in most schools is creating “common assessments” for student to take and then, once the assessments are administered, sifting through the data as a group to make meaning out of it.

Increasingly that data is coming from our assessment reporting tool, which essentially is a big database that makes it easy to spit out multiple combinations of SOL-type* questions for kids to respond to. Twice a year the database also provides required “division-wide assessments” in many subjects for students in most grades.

The tests data just keep coming.

Of course, all this demand for data comes at a price. Collecting it subtracts from limited instructional time. Building the tests and analyzing the results syphons from limited teacher planning time.

And then there’s the question of whether any of these tests are valid assessments of student learning. Or whether the knowledge being tested is what students need in the first place.  Obsessing over data diverts attention from any real discussion of the changes that need to be made in our educational structure.

But none of that is important. The data is all that matters.


* SOL = standards of learning, the nickname for Virginia’s standardized testing program.

Time to Test

How much time do students spend on testing in school?

It’s a good question and one Chicago high school teacher has something of an answer: “In my school, in just three weeks’ time, I have calculated that we spent 738 minutes (12 hours and 18 minutes) on preparing for and administering standardized tests.”

I don’t know that anyone has done a similar calculation here in the overly-large school district, but I’m betting the numbers aren’t much different, and could be much worse for elementary kids.

And this teacher’s observation that “allegedly “optional” tests and interventions become—culturally, if not officially— mandatory” is certainly true in many, if not most of our schools. Administrators have come to believe that a testing opportunity is a terrible thing to waste.

Valerie Strauss at the Washington Post’s Answer Sheet blog writes occasionally about a growing revolt against high stakes testings (including in today’s entry). If so, it hasn’t surfaced here, or evidentially in Chicago.

Addicted to Numbers

Alfie Kohn is one of the smartest observers of American education and someone whose voice needs to be heard more in the ongoing reform discussion. He recently posted an essay about how the increasing drive to collect data on kids is both “uninformative and misleading”.

The whole post is worth a few minutes to read (and pass along to your favorite school administrator and politician) but this observation is one that stands out for me.

You’ve heard it said that tests and other measures are, like technology, merely neutral tools, and all that matters is what we do with the information? Baloney. The measure affects that which is measured. Indeed, the fact that we chose to measure in the first place carries causal weight. His speechwriters had President George W. Bush proclaim, “Measurement is the cornerstone of learning.” What they should have written was, “Measurement is the cornerstone of the kind of learning that lends itself to being measured.” [emphasis mine]

Although the administration here in our overly-large school district talks a good game about “21st century skills”, “innovation”, “creativity”, and all the rest of the high minded phrases, the emphasis at the school level continues to be on testing and collecting more and more data to be analyzed.

And all those assessments, “formative”, practice, and otherwise, can’t help but shape – and narrow – instruction in most classrooms.

Meaningless Change

Late last week, swamped by our big storms and the only slightly less windy vortex swirling around the Supreme Court, came the story that Virginia had received a waver from the adequate yearly progress (AYP) provisions of NCLB.

Our lovely parting gift for not winning Race to the Top.

Anyway, the waver means our schools “will no longer face sanctions if they fail to ensure that all students are proficient in math and reading by 2014″.

As much as I would like to cheer that news, the details don’t offer much to be optimistic about.

Instead of AYP, we will now have “annual measurable objectives”, of course calculated using the same lowest common denominator standardized tests. Plus, beginning next year, our districts must “base at least 40 percent of teachers’ and principals’ evaluations on students’ academic performance” (aka those same tests).

And, as an added bonus, schools will still get an annual report card, which will now come with a “new generation of educational jargon”, the better to confuse parents and students alike.

In the Post article, our superintendent is quoted as saying “No Child Left Behind had become less and less meaningful, because the standards were unrealistic.”

Nothing’s changed. Virginia simply traded one set of unrealistic, meaningless provisions for another.

Final Exams: What I Learned This Year

The school year comes to a close this week here in our overly-large school district and, like the kids taking their final exams1, it’s time to reflect on the past ten months and figure out if I’ve learned anything over that time.

Since I don’t like multiple choice tests, this will be an essay.

One thing that’s been very clear in working with our schools this year is that they just love their data. Data, data, and more data.

An increasing amount of the precious little time available outside of actual teaching seems to be taken up with organizing and analyzing data on the kids. And to facilitate all that organizing and analyzing, our schools have adopted (or in a few cases, have been forced to adopt) the concept of “professional learning communities” (PLC)2.

It sounds nice, but I really wonder what’s happening in those structures. When talking to teachers and others in the schools, more often than not they refer to those gatherings as “meetings”, as in “I have a PLC meeting this afternoon”, often applying all the distain that many of us outside the classroom reserve for that term.

Much of the focus of their meeting seems to be not on learning (professional or otherwise), or collaborating, or on forming communities, but on building “common assessments”, a phrase that boils down to everyone teaching a particular grade level or course giving the same tests to their kids at the same time.

The better to gather more data with – a vicious and never-ending circle.

When you toss in bracelets that are supposed to measure student engagement and a growing collection of other “assessment tools” that keep arriving in vendor spam, the obsession over data continues to grow.

So, at what point does the data become more important than the source of that data, which of course, are kids? Or when will more time and effort be devoted to the data?

I suspect the farther you take the numbers from the classroom, the more likely it’s already happened. Just look at our national education policy.

End of section 1. Wait for the proctor to instruct you to continue.


1 Which they discover quickly during their school experience are never the “final” exams. :-)

2 Many schools have altered the name to CLT (collaborative learning teams), or just CT, or some other variation on the same theme.

Racking Up The Big Numbers

This morning I tweeted in frustration about the numbers of online state standardized tests we give here in the overly-large school district.

Screen Shot 2012 05 30 at 1 30 08 PM

That comes from the daily report the testing managers in IT sent us today (and every school day this time of year), along with the fact that we had completed more than 220,000 online tests so far in this testing season.

The really depressing part of those statistics is that we have “only” 180,000 students in K12 and some of them don’t take the SOLs*. Or still take paper and pencil versions of the tests.

Now just imagine all the practice and non-SOL multiple choice tests taken during the rest of the school year.

Sad.


* SOL = Standards of Learning, Virginia’s infamously named state-wide standardized tests.

There Must Be a Better Way

Here in the US it’s testing season, following weeks, often months of test prep in most schools. Diane Ravitch wants to know Are Test Scores the Point? and her answer gets it exactly right.

So, I am left with the view that we need a far better way to describe successful schools. Test scores alone are not the way. They may define a school where students spend every day engaged in test prep. They may describe a school producing complaint student-robots.

When we rely on standardized tests as the only, or even the most important, tool for assessing student learning, schools become test prep academies so administrators can avoid the dreaded “failure” label.