Hard time here and everywhere you go Times is harder than ever been beforeAnd the people are driftin' from door to doorCan't find no heaven, I don't care where they goHear me tell you people, just before I goThese hard times will kill you just dry long soWell, you hear me singin' my lonesome songThese hard times can last us so very longIf I ever get off this killin' floorI'll never get down this low no moreNo-no, no-no, I'll never get down this low no moreAnd you say you had money, you better be sure'Cause these hard times will drive you from door to doorSing this song and I ain't gonna sing no moreSing this song and I ain't gonna sing no moreThese hard times will drive you from door to door(Hard Time Killing Floor Blues, by Nehemiah Curtis "Skip" James)
On the eve of the opening of the traditional school year, the
Academic Performance Index (API) results were posted for the state of
California. All public schools were assigned a numeric score (ranging from a low of 200 to a high of 1000), reflecting the school’s performance level for 2007. These scores were based on the results of the statewide testing of all students, last May. However, it is not simply a listing of scores; that would be pointless. Instead, the API system also establishes a numeric growth target for each school, based on the scores the school received the year before. So, if I received an API score of 608 for 2006, I would be assigned a new API growth target of 618 for 2007. This means that my school needed to advance 10 or more points in order to meet our performance goal for 2007. Therefore, the API serves two purposes: to measure the growth of a school’s performance from one year to the next, and to rank schools on an annual basis. Schools that meet their performance goals are “passing”, school’s that don’t are “failing”. The API is the state’s Report Card for all public schools.
This year, my school, MASH Middle School, did not meet its API target. Instead of advancing 10 points, to reach our goal of 618, we lost 4 points, and scored 604. It was a bad performance. What made it doubly frustrating was the fact that it was the second year in a row that we showed negative growth. The previous year (2005-2006), we lost 6 points.
I’ve gone through periods of poor API performance before. From 2001 to 2003, while principal of Shangri-la Middle School, we failed to reach our API targets on two occasions. As a result, for two years, we were subjected to a tsunami of outside consultants, district visits, evaluations, and suggestions, culminating with a “Red Team” audit in 2002. It was a period of harsh pressures, scalding criticism and crushing self-doubt. The spring semester of 2003 represented one of my “Hard Times at Shangri-la”. I felt as if the school and I were on the killing floor of a Red Team slaughter house, and the only way to escape it was by singing the blues and doing the best we could, one day at a time. The following year (2003-2004), we rebounded from those negative experiences to surpass our target and gain 45 API points. District personnel called that turnaround a “miracle”. We followed that year with 16 API points in 2004 and 17 points in 2005.
I’d like to take credit for the “Shangri-la Surprise”, but it was nothing that I did personally. I was simply one of many professionals who had worked together for over 8 years, and we rejected the negative notions of state, county, and district critics, and their threats of consequences for failure. I knew the faculty and staff, and I supported the actions of gifted colleagues who stepped up as teachers, team leaders, department chairs, coordinators, and co-administrators to make things better. We attacked the challenge to improve test scores on multiple levels: we involved parents, students, and teachers; analyzed data; brainstormed strategies; and implemented some school-wide practices to address test-taking skills and increase academic rigor in classrooms. The one thing I did stress was to encourage innovation among teachers and teams. I wanted teachers to try anything and everything they could to improve student achievement. I knew that there were no “magic bullets” to eradicate obstacles to student learning and achievement. There are only hard-working, committed and creative teachers, doing the best they can, trying to get off of the hard time killing floor that “high stakes testing” has made of education.
MASH Middle School had gone through its own period of crisis and adversity. In 1999, it was audited by the state and indicted for not meeting the needs of the students and community. To stave off a humiliating take-over by the State Department of Education, the District stepped in, “reconstituted” the faculty, and replaced the entire administration of the school. The school was placed on a draconian schedule of retraining and improvement that was closely monitored by state, county, and district consultants and officials. The restructured school began showing dramatic improvements right away, and all oversight personnel were removed by 2005.
MASH had been posting consistent gains in their API scores since 2001. When I arrived as principal in 2005, they were celebrating a boost of 26 API points. Having those scores for my first year gave me time to learn about the faculty and staff, the operation of the school, and to continue its testing program. I wasn’t going to mess with strategies and procedures that had been successful for four years. I was therefore caught unprepared for the drop in scores the following year.
One thing you learn from singing (or listening to) the blues – if you accept hard times as the normal course of events, then things can’t get any worse. After my experience with the “Red (Team) Terror” at Shangri-la, and MASH’s experience with reconstitution, my response to the first drop in scores was (almost) routine. MASH also had very competent personnel, and an excellent track record of increasing student achievement (as measured by test scores), so no one panicked at this sudden reversal. There are only so many things an organization can do to change. All improvement models have commonly proscribed steps: 1) a climate of crisis and urgency must exist; 2) all stakeholders must recognize a need to change; 3) they must analyze the plan and strategies that were used; 4) they must evaluate data to guide new strategies; 5) they must plan a course of action using multiple approaches; 6) they must implement the plan; and 7) they must monitor progress and evaluate results.
In 2006-2007, I did all these things with administrators and staff, faculty and teachers, and parents and students. Most dramatically, my testing coordinator changed our testing format. In the past, MASH (and most schools) tested students in designated testing locations with assigned proctors. In this model, the exam proctor was rarely the student’s subject matter instructor, so there was no connection between the subject tested (English, Math, Science, and Social Studies) and the instructor who taught it to the student. It was our belief that by having the subject matter teacher give the STAR exams in English, Math, Science, and Social Studies; we would close the loop between instruction and high stakes testing, and make students and teachers more accountable. It was an inspired idea which I thought would produce dramatic results – it did not.
This year, I decided to take a different tack in addressing our student achievement gap and the drop in API scores. Rather than approaching this challenge from an institutional perspective (What should WE do to improve test scores?), I wanted to approach it from a personal one (What can I do to improve test scores?). I felt that a sense of personal investment and commitment was lacking in last year’s plan. We had gone through the motions, doing the right things, and working hard, but we weren’t all participating in the learning and achievement processes. So, last week, I met with my leadership team to try and put some concrete form to these thoughts.
My leadership team is composed of 5 assistant principals (MASH is a BIG middle school of 2600 students), 2 fulltime coordinators (Testing and English Language Development), and 3 content coaches (Math and English). We met to assess last year’s Action Plan in light of our test results. We began by listing the resources, programs, and personnel which support and implement the instructional mission of the school. Next we discussed what was working and what was not. This phase was the most animated, because there were many aspects of our strategies and practices that did not produce results, and we wanted to discuss why. The only common assertion we held about what worked, was our confidence that teachers and staff at MASH Middle School worked HARD at their duties and responsibilities. There was no question that the MASH personnel wanted to improve student achievement, but their efforts were not working. There was a lack of coherence in our efforts. There was inconsistent application, reflection, and evaluation of instructional strategies and approaches. There was a lack of urgency in our actions, uneven modeling and supervision of desired teaching behaviors, and little academic rigor in classroom instruction. We were especially honest, and harsh, in our appraisal of our own efforts.
It was at the conclusion of this freewheeling stage of discussion that I inadvertently posed this question: Do we start each day asking, “What will I do today to improve student learning and achievement?” As soon as I said it, I knew how I would answer that question. I do a fine job of managing the school, its budget, resources, programs, and personnel, but I’m not really personally involved in student learning and achievement. I analyze data, assess programs and personnel, delegate duties and projects, and try to make people accountable. However, I do not DIRECTLY participate in the instructional program at MASH Middle School. Our discussion halted with the beginning of Nutrition (recess), and the temporary pause gave us time to reflect on what we had revealed about our efforts and where we were placing the blame.
When we returned, I reviewed our list of Resources, and recapped our analysis of what was working and not working. I then framed the agenda for our next meeting, and what we would discuss. I wanted each member to decide on something they would do differently this year. Their choice had to be guided by this question: “With the resources, programs, and personnel available at this school, what will I do to improve student learning and achievement?” The team members acted surprised, but I think they saw the question coming.
I have been thinking about this question, and I’ve come up with my answer. I believe that I need to actively participate in the process of instruction in order to improve student learning and achievement. One Assistant Principal and I are responsible for “A” Track. Each track has about 10 identifiable interdisciplinary teams of teachers, with a total of 45. If I split them with my co-administrator, I’d be working with 5 teams and 27 teachers. Working with these teachers, I would observe the learning that goes on in their classrooms, and provide feedback, support and assistance to the teacher and students. I would meet once a month with the teams during their common conference periods to review instructional and classroom issues, such as academic rigor, coherence of efforts, student data and work, learning and teaching strategies, and student assessment. I would also meet once a month during Common Planning Time on Thursdays, with teams that do not share a conference period. With this level of access and participation, I would be better able to support and evaluate the implementation of any school-wide procedures and activities.
This is a radical step for me, and I’m not sure how it will play out. I’ve always been able to balance the manager versus instructional leader roles of a principal by emphasizing leadership. A leader can consult with experts, delegate duties, and empower others to act. Now I’m proposing to become an active participant in the instructional process that occurs in the classroom, with students and teachers, and during a teacher’s planning time. It’s a scary prospect, but also invigorating. Desperate times call for desperate measures, and if I expect people to believe and act from a sense of urgency, then I need to model that behavior.
I’ll let you know how it comes out.
