It’s been a long and difficult year of NTI. Now that there is finally an end in sight and we’re looking forward to a projected return to in-person learning, it’s important for us to look back at this experience, evaluate our successes and failures, and see what is worthy of carrying forward into the future. Here are some of my thoughts as a high school teacher looking back over the past ten months of distance learning.
Pandemic Learning and NTI took the focus off of achievement culture and placed it on the well-being and growth of our children.
The difficulties were many and the stress levels were high for us all, but NTI has helped many of us educators focus on the essentials and has put teaching the standards versus pursuing the growth and well-being of our students into perspective. As a high school teacher and as the parent of a high schooler, I watched early on as students became overwhelmed with their work while their teachers struggled to adjust to the realization that they wouldn’t be able to teach NTI the same way they did in-person. Gradually teachers began to find the sweet spot that exists between too many assignments and not enough. We slowed down and we learned to “unpack our standards” in a way that we hadn’t ever done before, prioritizing what’s most essential and finding new and creative ways to make it relevant, accessible, and engaging for our students. For many, that meant focusing on some things and letting other things go, but thanks to the grace of the Department of Education in providing relief from school accountability last year, that was okay. It gave us the space to focus on our students and their well-being.
Pandemic learning taught us how we should be supporting students.
For many of us, NTI confirmed what we already knew about our students: Many of them live in very challenging situations and require multiple levels of support in order just to survive, let alone to grow or thrive. Some of them are fortunate enough to have parents who are able to support them and ensure that they follow through on their learning, but others do not. Finding ways to help those who need help has been frustrating and challenging for all of us, and sadly we haven’t always been able to reach the ones who need us the most. Nevertheless, NTI has demonstrated that schools have the capacity to develop deep support networks that we had never imagined before. We’ve delivered food and supplies, we’ve clothed children, we’ve helped housing insecure families find shelter, we’ve connected families with medical resources, and we’ve provided grief support and emotional support when nothing else could protect our students from the effects of sickness and violence. Schools found ways to reprioritize and reallocate their staff to make sure that every child in need had the attention of several adults beyond their classroom teachers. If it takes a village to raise a child, we learned that every member of our staff has a role to play in reaching and supporting that child.
We teach students, not standards.
So how should we carry what we’ve learned forward into post-NTI learning? For the past ten months, we’ve had an up-close window into the struggles that our students face in their daily lives. For some students we’ve had to try to help them overcome deep needs at home, for others we’ve had to help them conquer apathy, and for some we’ve had the opportunity to help them use this time and space to develop their own talents and passions. For every one we’ve seen what it’s like to prioritize their well-being over their academic successes and failures. Throughout this pandemic, students and educators alike have grown in grit, in resilience, and in compassion for one another. We’ve learned to develop community and to find our place in it, that we have a responsibility to care for and lift up each other, and that we are in fact our brothers’ and sisters’ keepers. When we return to in-person learning, it is important for us to continue prioritizing compassion and relationships with our students and their families over
“covering the standards.” Students need us to nurture them as whole human beings with social-emotional needs that are at least as important as the content knowledge that we are tasked with teaching them. As teachers, nurturing students, caring for them, and helping them thrive is our passion. Sure content standards are an important tool to help them prepare for life after P-12 education, but they are only a small part of helping students grow into healthy and self-actualized adults. We want to make a lasting difference in their lives.
If we are truly going to help our students grow and thrive going forward, we need support and agency to help us prioritize finding ways to continue meeting students’ physical and social-emotional needs, building relationships with them, and finding new ways to inspire and engage them. The revenue increase passed by the JCPS Board of Education last spring offers new opportunities to invest in our students. Let’s keep giving our students the support and learning experience that they deserve. To learn more about the schools our students deserve, read A Better Way Forward for JCPS.
For the foreseeable future, school will be different. Online learning and partial reopenings pose challenges that demand our immediate attention, especially in regards to equity. Yet such challenges also bring into sharp relief a school system that already needed transformation. So, with one eye on the present, we must have the other on the future. We have a moment now where we can intentionally plan for a different approach to school, one that is more deeply dedicated to equity and justice.
For almost two years, Racial Equity has been one of the Three Pillars for Jefferson County Public Schools. It is a bold and important move resulting in a district-wide Racial Equity Plan as well as a unique Racial Equity Plan (REP) developed by each school. REPs have the potential to lay out ideas and actions to dismantle the systemic and individual racism we know exists in our schools.
Yet after looking over the REPs for our comprehensive high schools, I can’t help feeling underwhelmed and discouraged. Of course, the REPs vary greatly: some are sparse and narrowly focused. Others sprawl with Pollak-esq splatterings of edu-jargon. Some seem filled out with dutiful compliance; some feel like a school taking a risk to try something new; some read like a regurgitation of things already in place.
If they have one thing in common it is this: they simply aren’t enough. They speak neither with the enormity nor urgency that is needed. REPs also overlap a great deal in the Areas of Focus and the Solutions that they identify. These commonalities show high school REPs striving with good intention, yet in ways that are insufficient, and sometimes problematic, for addressing the racist structures that are deeply embedded in our schools.
Common Areas of Focus
Many REPs target disparities in behavior data, particularly suspensions. At a district level, Black students make up about 66% of suspensions but only about 30% of the population. Such disparity not only affects the students who are suspended, but also the students who see the disproportionate punishment of students who look like them. Without a doubt, suspension disparities must be addressed.
Yet, consider two facts together: 1) REPs do not include suspension disparities as one in a long list of focus areas — REPs that focus on suspensions typically only identify one other area of focus, if that; and 2) the vast majority of Black students are never suspended. So while addressing suspension disparities is essential work, that work does not directly impact the majority of Black students. The potential reach of the REP severely limited when suspension reduction is its primary, or only, work.
Moreover, when disparities are defined by a single number (i.e. suspension rate), there is a tendency to focus on manipulating the indicator without addressing the real issues. Adequately addressing suspension disparities requires a much larger interrogation, not just of the behavioral systems at the school and district level, but also of our curriculum and how we define the primary purpose and fundamental structures of school. Yet, recent reports provide evidence that current behavior efforts may be more about gaming a statistic than about truly transformative work to support Black students.
Perhaps more concerning, the focus on improving test scores in many REPs reinforces rather than deconstructs racist concepts of teaching and learning. Educators have almost universally and persistently questioned the value of test scores. What does it say about our plans to support Black students if they are centered around something we actually value very little? More critically, Ibram X. Kendi writes in Why the Achievement Gap is a Racist Idea,
“The testing movement does not value multiculturalism. The testing movement does not value the antiracist equality of difference. The testing movement values the racist hierarchy of difference, and its bastard 100-year-old child: the academic achievement gap.“
Test scores aren’t just a product of a racist system, they are a producer of it. An anti-racist approach would end the use of test scores as a means to sort, rank, and label students rather than attempting to refine a tool that has been used for racist ends since its inception. Some colleges and universities are already making this move — more than 700 have decided not to require ACT or SAT scores, including recently the University of California.
At best, REPs that focus on improving test scores seek to improve skills that are relatively meaningless while perpetuating the White mirage of meritocracy. At worst, they strengthen a racist system that deinfrancheises students and distorts our view of them and of what school could be.
More positively, many REPs focus on improving a ‘sense of belonging’. This goal is more universal than suspension disparities and further away from the racist ideologies of testing. But, of course, belonging should also only be the start. REPs could go further in naming the need for Black students to also feel a sense of ownership and leadership. Additionally, especially for addressing a factor that can feel abstract like ‘sense of belonging’, REPs need systemically oriented, concrete, and revolutionary solutions.
Many Racial Equity Plans rely heavily on a strategy of Professional Development. Plans run the spectrum from specifying only three hours of training to stating that within a single year staff will be trained on all of the following: Culturally Responsive Pedagogy, Implicit Bias, Social Emotional Learning, Trauma Informed Care, and continued implementation of PBIS. Ironically, both ends of the spectrum paint an all too familiar picture of Professional Learning as a one-time delivery of information rather than an on-going process of transformation — deep, personal, and time-consuming work.
Certainly, personal and collective growth must be at the heart of equity efforts. But, Professional Learning as a solution to racial inequity can feel like the inaction Tre Johnson writes about in “When black people are in pain, white people just join book clubs”. Training and Professional Development are most often passive and easily ignored by many. How many colleagues would tune out such PD because they do not believe themselves to be racist? So while transformative professional growth is an essential step, REPs do not explicitly frame the work in this way.
From the systemic perspective, many plans defer work to the Professional Learning Communities. If PLCs are the hub of planning and collaboration, then they must be engaged in equity work. But, that work must be more than an additional check-box on a lengthy minutes form. Without more information, it is difficult to know if schools are asking PLCs to make equity the central focus of their work or it is merely a short appendix to an already written book.
In many ways, much of the predominant PLC system remains rooted in the racist conception of the achievement gap. It has become a highly-prescribed and narrow way of thinking about teaching and learning. Again, consider questions from Dr. Kendi’s essay, “What if, all along, our well-meaning efforts at closing the achievement gap has been opening the door to racist ideas?…What if our educational system focused on opening minds instead of filling minds and testing how full they are?”
If PLCs are truly driving anti-racist work, they must be able to interrogate the PLC system itself — to ask whether it orients teachers more towards opening minds or towards filling and testing them, to ask whether it values difference. PLC systems tend to focus on funneling students towards a standard outcome with external, predetermined indicators of success. In contrast, researcher Yong Zhao has long advised that we “start with the individual child, instead of what others think [that child] should become.” For PLCs to be part of anti-racist work, they must be allowed (and even encouraged) to develop truly student-centered and personalized approaches instead of ones more adherent to standardization and testing.
Regrettably, REP strategies also reinforce racist conceptions of the achievement gap through the creation of academic intervention courses and the use of data (usually test scores) to adjust how students are assigned to tracked courses. The practice of tracking most certainly rests on the ‘racist hierarchy of difference’ and has been referred to as ‘modern day segregation’. Tinkering with the gatekeepers still leaves intact a system fundamentally built on inequity.
Intervention efforts stem from such well-intended desires to help. Yet, especially at the secondary level, intervention is still primarily founded in the racist conception of the achievement gap. Intervention asks us to notice first perceived deficits rather than to protrize developing the strengths and passions of our students. Moreover, at the secondary level interventions tend to focus not on deep, conceptual development, but rather ephemeral drill and repetition of skills.
Intervention time often comes at the sacrifice of electives or other student interests. Intervention can come with stigma and feed negative self-identity. Certainly, we need to support students, and some type of intervention may be a part of that. But, REPs have not grappled with the racist and transactional underpinnings of the dominant understanding of intervention that has been casually adopted by most high schools in recent years.
Interventions also often represent an ‘auxiliary’ approach to equity. Intervention often positions the needs of students, and thus the students themselves, as external to the core structure of class. Rather than significantly challenging the structure of course or approach to school, intervention preserves a system that values inequity and discourages difference. It still prioritizes the students for whom those systems were built.
Similarly, some REPs also establish electives, clubs, and mentor groups. To be clear, schools need clubs, electives, and mentor groups, especially those designed for and by Black students. They can be valuable resources to the students who can access them, but they still constitute an auxiliary approach to equity. Acknowledging race on the perfieray does not necessarily challenge the racists constructs of the larger system, nor does it engage the whole school in anti-racist work. Such ‘auxiliary’ approaches typify the tension between necessary yet insufficient ideas seen in REPs.
One of the only whole school strategies found in high school REPs is the use of Positive Behavior Interventions and Supports (PBIS). PBIS can be difficult to discuss as implementation can vary widely. Positively, PBIS can increase clarity and reduce discretionary punishment that is more often directed at Black students. Some schools also use PBIS to detect and address systemic issues. Yet, such benefits do not outweigh the consequences of adopting the ideology of PBIS, especially when those benefits can be gained by other means.
Systems like PBIS are built on outdated, behaviorist thinking that is anthetical to anti-racist values. Researchers like Alfie Kohn have implied that such programs are akin to treating students like lab rats, manipulating and coercing behavior through rewards and punishment. Such approaches are built on faulty assumptions about how humans work (for more read Daniel Pink’s Drive or Alfie Kohn’s Punished by Rewards), and so tend to treat students as less than human. Moreover, the ‘ideal’ behavior sought in PBIS programs can be heavily culturally biased. On the whole, such programs are neither humanizing nor liberatory.
Alternatively, Restorative Justice approaches tend to be founded on a completely different view of people and behavior. They value humanity, difference, and reconciliation over mechnicization, sameness, and compliance. Unfortunately, only three of the high school REPs included Restorative Justice as a strategy.
The tension between the necessity of the work and its insufficient, or problematic, conception in current REPs points to our need for deeper praxis — the on-going dialogue between action and theory. The current set of high school REPs layout a set of actions that develop an ideological approach racial equity. The assumptions and beliefs of that theory must be examined to inform future action. Some of those conceptual critiques are outlined above, but there are other, broader concerns.
For instance, on the whole, high school REPs take a deficit perspective toward racial inequity — they treat Black students as a problem to be solved. They ask why Black students aren’t meeting certain indicators, neglecting to interrogate whether the indicators themselves are founded in racist thought.
Alternatively, an asset based approach to REPs would focus more on identifying and developing gifts and talents, finding areas of genius and success (even if they are outside the school walls) and bringing them into the classroom. Such REPs would be framed in terms of how our systems prevent and discourage students, specifically BIPOC students, from expressing their natural brilliance (instead of being framed as how the students aren’t succeeding in the system). A solely deficit-based lens can severely warp our individual psychology and our systemic approach to anti-racist work. It can lead to paternalism, White Savoir-ism, and the reinforcing of racist systems.
Paradoxically, the plans also feel devoid of race. Their framing of disparities in behavior and testing data could easily apply to any group with disparities. In many REPs, race could be replaced by gender, socio-economic status, or language learner status without necessitating other changes in the plan. In other words, REPs have not thought specifically and critically about race.
One risk in writing this is that it is read too sharply. As insufficient as I find our REPs to be, I’m also intensely proud of our district for taking this first step. We have put pen to paper. Now we have time for the red ink and big exs and exclamation points. We’ll revise and rewrite, and then again and again. The work is never finished.
It also must be acknowledged that a REP does not represent the totality of anti-racist work done at school. Individuals and groups of educators surely go well beyond the work specified in REPs. And, REPs should not be required to document the totality of this work lest they become burdensome, bureaucratic documents that actually discourage the work. We cannot allow REPs to become merely an act of compliance (though some already appear to be).
Rewriting REPs are as much a part of the work as executing the plan. We cannot just assess our progress in implementing the current REPs, we must continually interrogate the goals and paths they define, digging deeper each time. If we do not take the time now to re-invigorate them with ideas that are truly revolutionary and transformative, we will continue down a path that is already well-worn with ideas that ultimately hurt our students, especially our BIPOC students. They deserve a better way, and I am confident we can help make it.
“If you stick a knife in my back nine inches and pull it out six inches, there’s no progress. If you pull it all the way out that’s not progress. Progress is healing the wound that the blow made”. Malcolm X said this over 50 years ago. We shouldn’t still need to reference this quote today. It’s supposed to be different. We’re supposed to have progressed so much more than this. But here we are.
If you’re like me, you’re mad as hell for reasons that are hard to untangle. And if you’re not, you should be. If you’re like me, you aren’t able to stand next to your friends and family in the protests. Maybe you’re 5 months pregnant and a little protective of your abnormally large midsection. Maybe you’re immuno-compromised. Maybe you don’t have transportation. Maybe you don’t have childcare. Whatever the reason, there are ways we can catalyze progress without physically protesting.
It kills me that I can’t stand next to my colleagues and shout, and demand change. And it’s made me think differently, and probably more deeply, about what I see around me. It’s made me wonder what kind of world this will be for my child if things don’t change, and fast. Maybe more importantly, it made me shudder to think how black mothers and fathers must feel. It’s made me want to fight even harder. So I have been thinking about what those of us who can’t join the movement downtown can do to help. We can still be allies.
I am not black. I won’t even feign understanding at what the black experience has been before this, or what it is now, or what it will be after. But I can seek to understand. I can ask honest, genuine questions, and then shut my mouth and listen. White people need to do a better job shutting up and listening to black people. If you show more outrage about broken windows than broken bodies, then you aren’t listening.
Let’s be honest white friends-many of us have chosen to be blind. This blindness means we have gaps in our understanding. Do your civic duty. Learn about our elected decision-makers. If they don’t stand against the injustices we’re seeing in the justice system, education, housing, etc., they have to go. Full stop. Look up their voting history. Read their websites. Connect with civic organizations who gather that information (e.g., Kentuckians for the Commonwealth). Knowledge is your best weapon when we go to battle in the election booth.
We can’t seek to understand what we don’t know. We can’t seek change if we don’t see the problem. And let’s be honest white friends-many of us have chosen to be blind. It’s time to learn about the experiences of our black brothers and sisters. These sites and organizations are good places to start.
Silence is complicity. We MUST vote out the elected decision makers who make the problem worse by ignoring or minimizing. We MUST vote out the elected decision-makers who are silent and complicit. After you do your research on the candidates who WILL fight against racial injustice, give them your time. They literally can’t win elections without you. Volunteer your time to stuff envelopes with campaign material, make phone calls to voters, or if and when we can resume normal in-person activities, volunteer to knock on doors.
There are ways to donate time outside of elections too. Writing blogs (like this one) to share perspective and resources, or volunteering with civic organizations focused on community building are great places to start. Here are some starting points.
If you’ve got the means, choose candidates that will fight tooth and nail against racial injustice, and fuel their campaigns to help them get elected. Give them your money. Your donations are particularly powerful for local elections.
You can help correct the injustices waged against the black community by helping to build it. Patronize black owned businesses. This takes intentionality, research, and planning. Here are some great businesses to get you started.
Similarly, celebrate the black story. There isn’t enough black history in schools. We’re doing better, but we have far to go. Black history month isn’t enough. One class in African American history isn’t enough-especially when histories are presented through the eyes of the oppressor. Donate to places that are celebrating black stories and the black experience. Many are non-profits, and live on donations. Here are some good ones.
WIELD YOUR PEN AND YOUR SWORD: AT THE VOTING BOOTH
I saved this one for last on purpose. Long-lasting, systemic, sweeping change happens in legislation and in the courts.
Call/text/email your representatives! If you are reading this, you have the time and money to contact your elected representatives (it’s free). Put them on speed dial. Ask your networks to call them too. Show them you are paying attention and are holding them accountable for their decisions.
You can contact your state legislators at 1-800-372-7181. You don’t even need to know who your representative is (though you should). Apps make it even easier. Countable lets you contact representatives with the click of a button.Make sure you and everyone you know are registered to vote. You can do that here. Get your absentee ballot-TODAY. Voting in the primaries will help ensure you know the process for the big one-in November. We must VOTE OUT every single person who is not unapologetically speaking out against the injustices we are witnessing all over the country that harm people of color. I know it’s hard to trust a system that has left so many behind for decades. If we unite, we can change things. It has happened before. It can happen again. Outrage is not enough. Protests are not enough. Your tweets are not enough. We must activate all of the levers of democracy to see change happen. No matter your schedule or monetary means, there are ways you can contribute. Together we are strong. And we can do it.
As we show solidarity with our students, educators, and other people of color, wearing black is just a visible sign that we stand together. While this visible show can make us feel like we are doing something, it is important to put action behind the sentiment. Donating to causes and learning about racial equity in America are important aspects of being an ally.
Below are links for donations and petitions:
The Louisville Community Bail Fund exists to not only bail out folks, but provide post-release support to get them from jail, fed, and to a situation of safety.
[Additional donation links could be added as they become available]
In addition to donating, here are books to read. Dealing with our own implicit biases is hard, but important as we work together to create a reality where our students can live and thrive without fear, inequity, and bigotry.
As an act of solidarity with our students, fellow educators, and people of color, we are asking educators to wear black on Thursday, June 4th. When you wear black on Thursday, post on social media with the hashtags #BreonnaTaylor #GeorgeFloyd #DavidMcAtee #EducatorBlackOut.
The JCTA Public Statement regarding the protests:
The Jefferson County Teachers Association stands in solidarity with people of color and those in our community, and across the nation, who are peacefully protesting in support of justice for the families of Breonna Taylor, George Floyd, and other people of color who have lost their lives at the hands of those who should be protecting them from harm.
JCTA adds its voice to the call for immediate concrete steps to address structural and institutional racism in our communities, including our law enforcement agencies, our systems of education, neighborhood resources, economic opportunities, and our legal system.
JCTA affirms its belief in the democratic rights of citizens to organize and demonstrate for change and condemns the use of violence on all sides during such demonstrations.
As educators, we know that students cannot learn if they live in a constant state of fear for themselves, their family members, and their friends and neighbors, and we understand that our belief that every student can learn is undermined when young people are forced to live with fear, inequity, and bigotry.
The Jefferson County Public School system is a wholly unique institution in the state of Kentucky. We are without comparison. At nearly 100,000 students, we dwarf our closest peer district by almost 60,000 children. With over 150 schools in operation, we double our sister district, Fayette County Public Schools. While we have more buildings, more children, and a much larger overall staff, there is one area where Fayette County Public Schools exceeds us; property taxes.
As Americans, we are slightly programmed to balk at the mention of taxes and increasing them. Our rebellious founding leaves a distaste for taxes for many of us. The reality is that taxes are a necessity to provide government services that are basic rights. Looking at other districts, it is clear that JCPS is behind the curve when it comes to levying property taxes.
Compared to the districts closest to us and closest to our size, JCPS is not following the trend of our fellow districts. In fact, the second highest property taxes is by our closest neighbor, Anchorage, a district carved out of the middle of our own. While people who oppose the tax increase will make noise that they can just move to Oldham County, the taxes there are even higher than Jefferson County.
Aside from comparing ourselves to other districts’ property taxes, we have to look at some stark realities. Our district is in dire need of renovations. Over thirty of our buildings will reach end of life over the next decade. We don’t know exactly when it will be and it could be overnight as the condemning of Ballard’s football facility was during the 2019 football season. Except next time, it might be the actual school building. While Ballard was able to play their games on other fields, where would we house students if their building suddenly fails? What if more than one goes at once? We also need more buildings. While opponents often remark on the need to end bussing to save money, the reality is that the buildings to house students in the West End do not exist. If we suddenly stopped bussing students west to east in Jefferson County, there would not be seats in the West End to accommodate them. Further, the buildings that exist also need renovations. It’s short-sighted and inequitable to just demand that students from the West End no longer be allowed to attend schools outside of their zip code. We are a district of choice. Our students and families have the choice to choose the school that fits their needs and that also includes bussing students from the East End to magnet programs that fit their needs.
In addition to all of these needs, over 60% of our students qualify for free/reduced lunch. We have over five thousand students who are homeless. Those are just the ones we know about. Our English as a Second Language and English Language Learner population is over ten thousand students and growing. With the societal issues brought to light while dealing with COVID-19, we know our students need smaller classes and more technology now more than ever. We don’t know what the return to school will look like, but we know that there is no way to social distance with the current high school classroom cap size of 31 students per class.
Are there ways our district can save money? Absolutely. And we are working on those. The truth is that we cannot continue to squeeze blood from a turnip and expect to give our students what they deserve. Our students deserve the best our city has to offer them and that means paying slightly more in property taxes. The proposed increase would amount to $70 total for a year on a home that costs $100,000. Isn’t that amount worth it to help children? Isn’t that an amount where you can look at a child and say “you are worth the investment.” We are not asking for an insurmountable amount. We are just asking for an investment in the future of our children and our city.
The conversation about how we return to school has already started and a common refrain is growing: we will not go back to what was. Yet, if we are not intentional, the conversation itself will lead us back to the current way of doing things. In The Politics of the English Language George Orwell cautioned, “if thought corrupts language, language can also corrupt thought.” The phrases and metaphors frequently used to talk about schools may build something new, but not something fundamentally different.
In particular, conversations about “learning loss” and “falling behind” have appeared in a spate of recent pieces in major media outlets. Such language emerges from a foundation that says the primary function of school is the accumulation of knowledge. Paulo Freire referred to this as the Banking Model of education – teachers deposit facts and skills into passive students who are then judged on the balance of their accounts. The langue informs a response: monitoring and filling knowledge accounts of students. The language provokes a sense of emergency and need to preserve the current order. Many articles even include the (perhaps intentionally) fear-inducing term ‘covid slide’. 1
The Banking model shapes our language. That language shapes how we think and thus act. Continuing Orwell, “….by simply throwing your mind open and letting the ready-made phrases come crowding in. They will construct your sentences for you — even think your thoughts for you, to a certain extent — and at need they will perform the important service of partially concealing your meaning even from yourself. “
The language of the Banking Model has so saturated our conversation that we accept the nonsensical as logical. We talk about how many months or years students will be behind not as a direct measure of time missed, but as an odd and abstract measure of learning. There is no concrete meaning of ‘three months of math’.
Learning is not measured in units of time. Learning happens spurts and sputters, regressions and false starts, leaps and skipped steps. The process of becoming a passionate and competent reader is not a clearly delineated 13-year progression. But, that is the framework that fits on the Banking foundation. It requires support and veneer of equating learning only with test scores.
When we talk about “falling behind”, the language is immediately there – we must “catch up”. The conversation begins to fill-in. The vocabulary inevitably narrows to reading and math, and what testing is needed, and how time will be made (certainly at the sacrifice to other subjects). There will likely be excitement and creative ideas, just as with a new coat of paint or rearranged room. The Banking foundation of deliver-test-repeat still sits solidly underneath.
Such remodeling is not new to education. Innovative ways are constantly found to make the Banking process both enjoyable for students and justified through ‘rigor’. New methods of assessment, remediation, scaffolding, etc… promise to make students’ accounts meet a minimum threshold (or at least appear to). These artifices give the illusion that education has moved beyond the rows of desk and recitation of facts. But, they still sit squarely on a foundation that says school is primarily about the accumulation of academic facts and skills.
By rebuilding and repairing on the current foundation, we will never end up with a fundamentally different type of school. Which means we have to start by giving up our current language for talking about school. Orwell writes:
Never use a metaphor, simile, or other figure of speech which you are used to seeing in print.
What if we had the conversation about what happens next but couldn’t talk about classes? Or grading? Or Standards? Some may find that radical, but this conversation is already happening. Yong Zhao recently wrote that the current crisis is a chance to let go of our current structures of scheduling and time, strictly delineated subjects, and age-based grouping. Even before the current crisis, Education Reimagined published a 13-page vision for a Learner-Centric education that calls for competency-based approaches, contextualized and personalized learning, as well as learning that is socially embedded and open-walled.
In fact, the conversation is fairly old. In the early 20th Century, Maria Montessori was advancing ideas like mixed-age classroom and learner-centered pedagogies. Around the same time, John Dewey advanced the idea of learning as a primarily social process and encouraged an active and experiential learning through integrated disciplines rooted in the child’s interest. In In Search of Deeper Learning (2019) Jal Mehta and Sarah Fine wrote about the power of the apprentice model of learning that has long existed in the workshops and the arts. The foundation we are looking for is not new. Yet these ideas have only flickered on margins of the school system.
The Banking Model persists because of its use to those who already have power and position in society. It is much easier to succeed in a system that rewards the accumulation of knowledge when that knowledge is culturally selected and coded to match your identity and experiences, when your time in school or ability to be present in school has not been impacted by trauma or significant life changes, and when your interest and talent align with the external goals and measures. The Banking Model benefits a select few, and gives the illusion of a fair chance for all.
The current crisis only brings to stark relief for everyone the inequities inherently produced by a Banking foundation. So, we are seeing moments of relief, like states and colleges providing exemptions from standardized testing requirements. There is now some empty space, but doesn’t mean we have changed our plans for it. Many of the pieces concerned about “learning loss” cite a report by NWEA, the organization that also produces and sells MAP testing to schools. If that space continues to be filled with the language of ‘learning loss’, we will likely see a push for more forms of testing to diagnose and help our kids ‘catch up’.
But, what will matter most when we return will be not be assessing what facts and skills students still know. What matters most will be knowing our kids. They will have been through trauma, some much more than others. They will have new questions about how the world works. They will have new fears. They will have developed new passions and talents. Long term school closure certainly hurts students. How we talk about that informs whether we will make the foundational changes that will really help them.
Our current language hinders a discussion that could create schools that are truly student centered. Schools that are primarily about students becoming themselves, where learning experiences derive from the questions and passions of the students. Schools that honor the natural, irregular pace of growth. Schools whose central form and function are to cultivate a sense of well-being, independence, community, empowerment, and agency.
There are few examples to point to of schools truly built on new ground. In conversation especially it’s difficult, if not impossible, to point to a universally recognized model and say, “let’s build that.” The most accessible first step is to change how we talk, to remove the language that constrains our thought to current ideas. Quite literally: before a meeting make a list of words and phrases that describe school as is. Then, plan, talk, and dream without using them (or finding loophole synonyms). It will require creativity and wrestling and failing. It is a conversation that also can’t happen just between educators.
Students must be partners in this conversation. This means going beyond the token student committee member or student advisory group. We must structure schools to have space to become what students want and need. Students must be given more agency over what they learn. That starts with students not being the topic of or providing input to a conversation, but students being equal participants and collaborators in the conversation about schools.
Some students (and educators alike), especially those advantaged by the Banking Model, will have trouble imagining what a new type of school looks like. Many will fear falling behind. They too have been steeped in the language and metaphor of the Banking Model. Just as we let go of our own attachment to the language of current foundation, we must also help them how to do the same. If we can, we will be amazed at the schools we can create with them.
1 The ‘covid slide’ narrative is similar to, and even based on, the “summer slide”. The summer slide narrative also reduces learning to be solely about test scores. It has been criticized on conceptual grounds. But even within a testing framework, current findings cast doubt on the methods and conclusions of popular understanding of summer learning loss. Other work has even found gains in certain domains over the summer. Ultimately, the summer slide provides another example of how the language of the Banking Modeling shapes our thinking and thus our practice with schools.
Teachers have a reputation for loving snow days and breaks. The thrill of a random Tuesday off because Mother Nature decided to blanket our streets in snow is nothing like this. Snow days end. Breaks help our students and teachers recharge before continuing learning. We know when they are and how long they last. We can get Blessings in a Backpack sent home. The majority of students in JCPS qualify for free or reduced lunch. The worry about where and how they will be fed is very real.
This is immensely different. No one becomes a teacher because they hate work. No one becomes a teacher because they hate children. We love our profession. We love our kids. We miss them desperately. We find ourselves thinking about them and the things they’d say. We miss the end of year activities. We miss watching our students ending their careers with us; the fifth graders, the eight graders, and the seniors who will move on without the appropriate goodbyes.
We are still adjusting to an NTI-based life. We will continue to reach out to students and families in the months to come. With NTI comes an entirely new set of hurdles as we try to do our best to help our students and ease their anxiety and stress.
These are unprecedented times. We know that we have to adjust our lives and our profession. That doesn’t mean that we don’t get to grieve what we and our students have lost. We know this is the right call, but we also know the sadness that we feel is real and valid.
In the months to come after this, may we as a commonwealth reassess what education needs to look like. Learning is not measured in standardized assessments or specified seat minutes. When the time came to completely turn our profession upside down, teachers across the nation rallied to provide some level of normalcy to our students. None of the remote learning will ever replace the very real relationships formed in the classroom. None of the remote learning can replace the climate and culture that exists in a school building, from sports and dances to clubs and painted wall murals, school is more than a series of activities designed to measure academic growth. School is a home and a family. For countless students across Kentucky, and across America, school is safety. May we remember these lessons as we create a new normal in a post-Coronavirus world.
But for now, we can be sad. We just miss our kids.
As school districts across the state are working to continue learning opportunities and instruction for Kentucky’s students, it is important for them to be able to support and maintain their staff.
Please call the Legislative Hotline at 1-800-372-7181 and leave this message for all legislators:
As your constituent and a concerned citizen of Kentucky, I am asking you to please remove current limits on emergency leave for education employees and give school districts the flexibility they need to address the Coronavirus crisis they are facing. Thank you!
House Bill 340 will require local boards of education to provide an annual salary supplement to qualified Speech-Language Pathologists or Audiologists. The bill is bipartisan; sponsored by Representatives R. Huff, P. Pratt, and D. Schamore. So far this session, this bill has had 3 readings in the House and passed 95-0. The Senate received the bill on 2/12/2020.
Why provide a salary supplement to SLPs and AUDs?
Speech-Language Pathologists and Audiologists based in schools are vital to improving the public education of students with communication impairments from early childhood through graduation.
SLPs and AUDs are highly qualified professionals that should be recognized as such. They have the option to hold a Certificate of Clinical Competence aka “the triple C’s”, through the American Speech- Language-Hearing Association (ASHA). To earn their C’s, Speech- Language Pathologists and Audiologists must earn a Master’s degree from an accredited university, perform 1600 hours of supervised clinical experience, pass a nationally recognized exam, and earn 30 continuing education hours every 3 years.
The Certificate of Clinical Competence for Speech-Language Pathologists and Audiologists is similar, but not synonymous with the National Board Certification for Teachers. CCC and NBCT programs both encourage professional excellence.
Have we seen this bill before?
Yes, during the 2010 KY legislative session, a bill was passed and subsequently signed into law by Governor S. Beshear known as the “Salary Supplement Bill”, HB 376. It states that school-based Speech- Language Pathologists and Audiologists possessing a Certificate of Clinical Competence from the American Speech-Language-Hearing Association (ASHA) may be given a salary stipend, equivalent to that which teachers earning National Board Certification receive, in the value of $2,000. The wording of the bill “permits” local school boards to pay a salary supplement, however, it does not allocate any funds nor require them to do so.
The Kentucky Speech-Language-Hearing Association (KSHA), KSHA’s Advocacy Network (iKAN), lobbyists, Speech-Language Pathologists and Audiologists across the state have continued to advocate for the salary supplement. In the 2019 legislative session, the salary supplement legislation, HB 168, received three readings in the House and on 03/06/19 passed 98-0. It was then sent to the Senate Education committee and died there.
Is this specific to KY?
Currently, five states provide a range of salary supplements to school- based Speech-Language Pathologists and Audiologists who hold a Certificate of Clinical Competence. And three additional states provide a salary supplement only for SLPs.
Salary supplements incentivize the best SLPs and AUDs to continue working in the public schools rather than leave for a role in the medical field where he or she could potentially earn double the pay. Salary supplements also encourage our best communication specialists to continue residing in the state of KY rather than moving to a state where he or she could receive higher pay.
Support school-based Speech-Language Pathologists and Audiologists. Support HB 340.
You can call the LRC Message Line at 1-800-372-7181 to leave a message for your Senator or ALL Senators asking them to SUPPORT HB340.