This winter our school spent several weeks gearing up for the facility-wide version of high-stakes testing which No Child Left Behind mandates for public schools, called “School Quality Review”. We have been instructed to be “on top of our game” for the visit; our classrooms were observed, our bulletin boards critiqued, our answers to the Quality Review board virtually rehearsed for us in a series of mind-numbing 1984-esque brainwashing sessions called “faculty meetings” to make sure we do not say anything that might give the reviewers anything other than the rosiest accolades for our oh-so-wonderful urban school. Yippeee. Under the current review process, schools are held to a series of system-wide standards determined by the people who know the most about quality education and best instructional practices: Businessmen.
While it is important for schools to be assessed by teams such as "Quality Review", I am naturally suspicious of all the consultants and experts who descend upon us with all their sense from the business world; the fact of the matter is that capitalism as we know it is a failing model that is essentially underwritten by the taxpayers, and corporate welfare is what keeps most businesses afloat-- so why are we basing the model for educational success on a corporate system that is in fact the model of failure and corruption? I may be going off the deep end here, but I am reminded of Maslow's hierarchy of needs--- in that until physical plant needs for safety and nourishment, learning and art cannot flourish.
As far as the impact on teaching goes, I have an abiding sentiment that we are being forced to play the marching band and the condemned, and provide the entertainment for the masses as we march ourselves toward the gallows. If these consultants want to help, why don't they hang out for three days calling lame-duck parents, conducting sweeps in the hallways, corralling truant students from the streets and the cafeteria, and act as "temporary deans"? I do not think that these suits would last fifteen minutes trying to manage our student population, let alone actually structuring curriculum and overseeing instruction itself.
I must also ask this group, who really benefits from this? The consultants are making a pretty penny. The results are posted on the internet (which half my students cannot access because they do not have computers at home and there is no computer lab at school). Look, it seems obvious that everyone knows that a big part of the problem with the board of Ed is the bloated bureaucracy; and here we are, feeding the beast and starving the children. While these $350 hour consultants trot around my classroom grilling me about why Johnny can't read, I'm getting emails from the Operations department at our school that teachers are making too many copies of instructional materials and that we are over budget for the year. They insist that we "avoid making copies" of the worksheets, graphic organizers, short stories, poems and other materials that I need for sound instructional practice in my classroom. The science that needs to be examined here is not the science of teaching-- this is the science of bunglers who hoodwink the public into enriching themselves at the expense of resources out of my students' reach while I grovel for copy paper.
How much longer are our kids going to be asked to "go without" while we spend millions on examining what they need rather than giving us the technology and supplies to do our job? Whose needs are being met? Let’s look at this: one hour of consultant pay would keep me in copy paper for a month; two hours would fund a decent classroom library; three hours would put a computer on a child’s desk; four hours would pay a tutor to help provide after school homework help for a week; five hours is more than my weekly pre-tax salary. These expenses give my students “measurable outcomes” instead of a bunch of folks staring at them during class time and typing frantically into their laptops as though my kids were animals in a zoo.
All this hoopla about business model being the best model for school reminds me very much of a Bible story my grandfather used to tell me. He told me how a long time ago; an old man named Isaac had twin sons, Esau and Jacob. Before the Isaac died, he needed to give the birthright blessing to his eldest son Esau. Jacob wanted the blessing from his father, and wanted it very badly. So Jacob conspired against his brother. Jacob knew Isaac was senile and blind, and so Jacob disguised himself as Esau. Jacob put animal skins on his arm to make himself hairy like Esau, he ate food so he smelled like Esau, and he made his voice sound like his brother’s. (Sara, Isaac’s wife, had a role in this nonsense, but I digress). Jacob approached his father, but Isaac was suspicious. Isaac made Jacob speak, and he heard Esau’s voice come forth. Isaac smelled the boy, and he sure smelled like Esau. Finally, Isaac felt the boy’s hairy arms and was convinced that Jacob was Esau. In good faith, with tears in his eyes, the old man gave the birthright blessing to his cheating, no-good son. This just goes to show you how far some people will go in this world to earn a buck: you will know them by this; they come with arms of Esau, but you will recognize the voice of Jacob.
This time around, Jacob dons a fancy suit and carries an expensive ultra-thin laptop loaded with a bunch of excel spreadsheets. Jacob comes to my school, introduces himself as Esau, smiles and shakes your hand. He promises he’ll show you how this whole education thing all ought to be done, and swears he is fully capable of bringing God’s people to the Promised Land where everybody can read and write and speak good English. “Excuse me”, he says, grinning “I meant to say proper English”. You notice then that his wrists are thin and his socks keep slipping down, and is that a forked tongue? But he just talks and talks about numbers and outcomes and measurable results and alternative assessment and data until you, too, want to go to the Promised Land where everybody can read, write, and do math AND speak good English. However, above all the din (That’s the sound of a stampede as thousands of children are left behind…) you can still hear the voice of Jacob. Is anybody listening?
-Ms. Mouthy
