Any time a high school student takes a course from a district other than the one where they live, a portion of Utah’s state aid shifts from the home district to the district providing the course online.

A district with a brilliant slate of online suddenly has the chance to solve its fiscal problems the easy way.

I learned about the Utah experiment at a conference held at Stanford University’s Hoover Institution, and sponsored by Harvard’s Program on Education Policy and Governance. While the details of the Utah experiment were not discussed, the basic idea is certainly intriguing.

No longer must students in rural Utah be denied the opportunity to take physics, chemistry, computer science or an esoteric language simply because the local district cannot afford teachers for courses with small enrollments.

No longer must a student in Utah take a social studies course from a teacher the student finds boring and unhelpful.

No longer must a student who cannot attend school on a daily basis—either because he or she is sick, or pregnant, or feels bullied, or wants to train for an Olympic sport—be denied the opportunity to maintain a regular schedule that will lead to a timely graduation.

Some find the policy unfair to smaller school districts, which lack the resources to create online courses.  To keep the playing field level, they say, each district should be allowed to provide online courses only to their own students. That way state aid would continue to flow to the district bearing the expenses associated with facilities management, extracurricular activities, transportation, the school lunch program, the guidance counselors, and much more.

If only a few students take just one or two online courses, the new policy may not pose too heavy a burden, but if student demand for courses outside their own high schools escalates rapidly, the inter-district competition could prove to be seriously disruptive for some districts.

One solution would be for the state to fund online courses outside the home district at something other than the full amount—perhaps at the 50 or 60 percent level.  The remainder would go to the home district. If Utah is not doing that already, it might consider an amendment along these lines.

If small districts want to keep all of their state aid, they should be able to save on upfront costs by contracting their online courses offerings out to other providers.  Florida Virtual School is already marketing such courses nationwide, and both commercial and university providers can be expected to follow, if they are compensated for each course taken.

Of course, there could be a race to the bottom, as each district looks for the cheapest provider.  If tests are easy, some students might be tempted to take a course no matter how poorly it is constructed.

Clearly, some kind of industry or state vetting of courses is needed if online learning is not to become the latest fad to go wrong.

Exactly how Utah is solving these problems is something I plan to share with you in a future post.  For now, I simply want to herald the idea of inter-district competition in the online world.  Whatever problems it may pose for some districts, it is hard to see why district needs should be put ahead of student ones.

If digital learning is to advance beyond the pilot stage, it needs to work within the current system of public education, not against it.  Public school districts have a legitimacy unrivalled by any other institution in American education. Whether digital learning is blended into the classroom or offered online, or both, districts have to be part of the action.

The solution is to put districts into competition with one another within an overall framework that maintains course quality.  If that is done, then it will only take two or three entrepreneurial districts to convince the remainder that they need to adjust if they are to keep their students from slipping away, one by one, course by course.

I shall report later on the specifics of the Utah experiment.  For now, I simply want to herald the general concept.  Putting districts in charge of online learning, while allowing them to contract out to private providers if they wish, creates a competitive marketplace within a legitimate political framework.  If properly implemented so as to maintain course quality and integrity, it can give all students, no matter what their racial, ethnic, or religious background, no matter what their place of residence, an opportunity to take well-designed courses offered under the direction of truly high quality teachers, to be taken by students each at their own pace.

-Paul Peterson

Still, the chatter in various social media about the announcement extend two faulty themes that needlessly limit educational technology discussions.

The first misguided frame, expressed by Core Knowledge’s Robert Pondiscio in USA Today, is whether technology, in this case digital textbooks, is a “magic bullet.” Pondiscio is right: Of course it’s not and anybody who claims so is foolish. But debating this point gets us nowhere.

What’s most important to understand about the digital textbook effort is that it’s an opportunity to open up a large amount of existing public money that has been locked into use by a very small and closed set of publishers. Opening up classrooms to new technologies in no way guarantees that textbooks or digital instructional materials will be better. But, it does provide the opportunity to shift power to educators, offering the possibility for not only more customization by teachers, but also access to a greater array of better materials. And, smaller publishers, including those who offer free content, such as Core Knowledge, may finally have a chance to enter classrooms based on the strength of their content, rather than their distribution and sales teams.

The second faulty frame is the conspiratorial suspicion of nefarious intent: any technology initiative is just a cover for private profit-seeking. But let’s be serious. We wouldn’t be having this discussion around school modernization. Construction companies make a lot of money on educational projects. We understand though, that this is a reason to exercise strong oversight of public funds. It’s not a reason to oppose modernizing crumbling facilities.

In reality, opposition to digital textbooks cements corporate control of instructional materials. This is about technology-driven industry change. Again, our K-12 schools already spend billions each year on textbooks — almost all purchased from the same small set of publishers. New companies are surely aiming at these dollars, just as Google, Facebook, and Craigslist have siphoned off newspaper ad revenues. And, this industry change also opens the doors for open educational resources (OER) that can be freely shared and modified. This is the real battle, between new and old ways of doing business, open and closed, as seen in the recent debate over SOPA. If there’s a critique here, it’s that there was little sign of the OER community in either the FCC’s announcement or the “Digital Textbook Collaborative” that it convened.

Two more things you may have missed:

• TASC continued its Digital Learning Beyond School effort with a white paper and video that makes the case for using technology to help community educators and teachers engage students in learning anywhere at any time.
• My favorite article from yesterday’s coverage describes a collaboration between the University of Utah and Google that is helping kids with autism spectrum disorders to shine. (h/t @mcleod)

-Bill Tucker

Behind the Headline
The Case for Special EducationVouchers
Education Next | Winter 2010

Former State Assemblyman Michael Benjamin makes the case for special ed vouchers in New York City in an op-ed appearing in today’s Post. Jay Greene and Stuart Buck explained how special ed vouchers work and dispelled myths about the vouchers in an article appearing in the Winter 2010 issue of Ed Next.

Just under 18 months ago, the U.S. Department of Education awarded over $330 million to two state consortia, PARCC and Smarter/Balanced, representing 45 states and the District of Columbia, to design and implement new student assessment systems. Two smaller state consortia, Dynamic Learning Maps (DLM) and the National Center and State Collaborative (NCSC), received an additional $67 million to develop new assessments for students with significant cognitive disabilities. The new assessments, offered mostly online, will replace the current state tests given to millions of students each year in reading and math. At the time, Secretary of Education Duncan called these initiatives an “absolute game-changer” and pledged tests of “critical thinking skills and complex student learning that are not just fill-in-the-bubble tests of basic skills.” In short, it’s an all-out effort to significantly improve one of the weakest — and most despised — aspects of our nation’s current educational system.

But, while it’s easy to think of the consortia as “building tests,” the more apt description is that they are attempting to re-invent, with heavy use of technology, the entire process of assessment. They are developing new types of assessment questions to go beyond multiple choice in conjunction with new methods to deliver, administer, score, and report on these assessments. They will delve deeply into professional development. And, together, they are also adopting common performance standards so that proficiency, which now means different things in different states, is a consistent standard across states.

Officially, the new assessments, including formative and interim tools, will not launch until the 2014-15 school year. In reality, though, most of the work needs to be fully-baked for field-testing in the 2013-14 time frame. That means the real work will take place over the next 18 months. This timeline will increasingly drive both decision-making and expenditures. Even though the consortia have generous grants, doing something quickly, for the first time, and in collaboration across many diverse states costs much more.

Many schools and districts, but not all, will struggle to develop the raw capacity – hardware, software, bandwidth, and tech support – to deliver online testing. Since it takes time for budgeting and procurement, districts want to know right now what the “requirements” are going to be. Yet, there’s a chicken/egg situation because the consortia don’t yet know the content/item types, so they can’t say whether to prepare for bandwidth-hogging simulations, graphics, etc.

At the same time, we have a limited sense of schools’ and districts’ actual capacity. When pushed, they may find a way: As one official at a recent State Education Technology Directors Association (SETDA) event noted, in his state districts and schools felt like they were being pushed off the cliff when online testing was implemented, but in reality, the cliff was only a couple of feet high. While the consortia are developing a “readiness tool” to assess the state of technology down to a school level, they’ll soon have to make a guess as to how ambitious the tech specs will be and that will then become a major constraint to development. And, that guess will have to be made in 2012 about 2015 technology. (iPads were not even around when the Department announced the grant competition.) Lower tech requirements will make schools’/districts’ lives easier, but may limit amount of innovation in item types, data collection, etc. Too far towards the other extreme increases the capacity problem.

From an instructional technology and content standpoint, the enormous scope means that the process by which the consortia do their work may have large implications. For example, if the consortia specify that you must have a device with at least a 13” screen size, good luck selling a 10” iPad tablet. More importantly on the back-end, decisions about the underlying technology architecture and standards for data/content transport will also have implications for both the vendor marketplace and integration of all sorts of other data systems (reporting, analytics, student information systems, formative assessments, content repositories, learning management systems, etc.). In other words, the consortia have the potential to exert a fair-amount of market power in a market that is currently dysfunctional. Whether the consortia choose to wield that power, and whether they do it as a force for good, remains to be seen. Ideally, this will all be done with a keen eye towards interoperability, openness, and extensibility, a system design principle where the implementation takes into consideration future growth. But, designing with the future in mind may take more time, could cost more, and often entails risk – presenting a dilemma for high-stakes development on a tight timeline.

The consortia provide a real opportunity to both understand and upgrade schools’/districts’ technology capacity. As a technology director told me, “they’ll buy for the testing mandate.” Yet, whether this capacity will have dual-use for instruction remains to be seen. Schools could get just enough bandwidth to support testing, but have to shut down any other uses for multiple weeks throughout the year. They could also decide to acquire “secure” computer labs, but isolate these from day-to-day classroom instruction. On the good side, one of the hopes of the new assessments is that they will point instruction to more cognitively challenging and beneficial methods. To the extent that these are technology-based, students must have access not just for testing, but also for instruction.

This may all seem to be too far in the weeds to pay attention. But like it or not, how we measure matters. The next generation of assessments will go a long way towards determining whether digital learning actually fulfills its immense promise. And this may be the best chance to get it right.

UPDATE: Smarter/Balanced and PARCC release statement announcing the new technology readiness tool.

- Bill Tucker

To become proficient at dividing a one-place number into a three-place number, a girl with blue-painted fingernails wrote in her math journal.

To become proficient in multiplying decimals, wrote a dark-haired boy. To become proficient at subtracting one four-place number from another. To become proficient in arithmetic word problems. To complete an exercise in the properties of numbers, like (4 + 9) + 5 = ? + (9 + 5).

No two youngsters seemed to have quite the same math goals because, of course, no two youngsters are quite alike when it comes to learning. That’s why Los Altos is betting the future on an online math program from Khan Academy, and why scores of other schools and districts are clamoring to include Khan Academy in their math curriculum.

For the next 45 minutes, Julian met individually with his 5th graders to refine their goals. (In November, Julian left Los Altos to become assistant principal in the Milpitas Unified School District.) Everyone else logged onto the free Khan Academy web site and called up the “module,” or math concept, that fit their goals. Some watched short video lectures embedded in the module; others worked their way through sets of practice problems. I noticed that one youngster had completed 23 modules five weeks into the school year, one had finished 30, and another was working on his 45th.

As youngsters completed one lesson, an online “knowledge map” helped them plot their next step: finish the module on adding decimals, for example, and the map suggests moving next to place values, or to rounding whole numbers, or to any of four other options.

Julian, meanwhile, tracked everyone’s progress on a computer dashboard that offers him mounds of data and alerts him when someone needs his attention. He showed me, for example, the data for a child who had been working that day on multiplying decimals. The child had watched the Khan video before answering the 1st practice problem correctly, needed a “hint” from the program on the 3rd question, got the 7th wrong after struggling with it for 350 seconds—the problem was 69.0 x 0.524—and got the 18th correct in under a minute.

But just as powerful are the data kids have on themselves. The Covington youngsters regularly pulled up an array of charts that showed them which math concepts they had mastered and which they were working on, needed to review, or were stumbling over.

The classroom buzzed with activity, and amazingly, all the buzz was about math.

Salman Khan (on left) and the team at the Khan Academy.

Khan’s Rise

By now, more than 1 million people have watched the online video in which Salman Khan—a charming MIT math whiz, Harvard Business School graduate, and former Boston hedge-fund analyst—explains how he began tutoring his New Orleans cousins in math by posting short lessons for them on YouTube. Other people began watching the lessons and sending Khan adulatory notes (“First time I smiled doing a derivative,” wrote one) or thanking him for explaining fractions to an autistic son.

Khan quit the hedge fund, moved to Silicon Valley, and in 2009, with funding from a constellation of technology stars (Bill Gates’s children were using the videos), launched the nonprofit Khan Academy. A year later, Mark Goines, a member of the Los Altos school board and a legendary Silicon Valley investor, introduced Khan to the district’s new superintendent. Los Altos already ranked among the best-performing districts in the state, but it had set itself a goal of improving individual achievement, and “capturing data at a granular level” on each student was proving difficult, Goines told me.

A few weeks later, in November 2010, Los Altos agreed to pilot Khan Academy with two classes of 5th graders and two classes of 7th graders and provide Khan with feedback to refine the web site and tools. By summer 2011, some 250 school districts, charter schools, and independent schools were asking to be part of the pilot—Khan chose only a dozen—and have Khan staff work with them to integrate the videos, data dashboard, and other tools into their curriculum.

Salman Khan’s short videos remain the centerpiece of Khan Academy (there already are 2,576 of them and counting). In each one, Khan’s voice describes a discrete math concept, such as solving a quadratic by factoring or interpreting inequalities, while only his hand-scribbled formulas appear on-screen. Khan’s idea was that youngsters would watch the videos at home and work on problems in class, essentially “flipping” the classroom (see “The Flipped Classroom,” What Next, Winter 2012). But teachers told me that youngsters also are using the videos as a just-in-time solution when they’re stumped on a problem in class, or to move ahead when they feel ready.

The data that the web site churns out and the site’s gaming features seem to be the real learning motivators. Youngsters become “proficient” in a concept by answering a “streak” of 10 consecutive computer-generated questions: miss one and the computer sends you back to the start. Youngsters earn “energy points” for correct answers, and badges for accomplishments as diverse as working speedily (that’s a meteorite badge) or becoming proficient in the Pythagorean theorem (that’s a moon badge).

Ted Mitchell, president of the NewSchools Venture Fund and a Khan Academy board member, told me that Khan developers “were blown away by how important” the games and badges seem to be in giving kids a sense of accomplishment and progress. Even older kids, for whom badges are ho-hum, “are instantly motivated” when they complete a streak, and the program acknowledges their accomplishment, says Brian Greenberg, who until recently was chief academic officer of Envision Schools. “What’s brilliant about Khan Academy is the instant feedback,” Greenberg told me.

Envision runs four charters in Northern California, including one that piloted Khan Academy with a small program for remedial-algebra students last summer.

Los Altos has extended the Khan Academy program to all of its 5th and 6th grade classes, and to its 7th graders who were achieving at grade level and below.

The Teaching Curve

From Covington Elementary, I dropped in on Courtney Cadwell’s 7th-grade pre-algebra class at Egan Junior High. She, like Julian, piloted Khan Academy last year. Based on that first-year success, Los Altos extended the program to all of its 5th- and 6th-grade classes, and to its 7th graders who were achieving at grade level and below.

Cadwell, a 17-year teacher who was wearing University of Texas orange for her alma mater, calls Khan just “one resource we use.” The previous night, she had assigned worksheet homework; she began the class with a textbook lesson. Math projects ringed the classroom, a reminder that Khan Academy doesn’t include project-based lessons. That night’s homework included a reading on the origin of zero: Cadwell, among others I spoke with, said Khan’s weakness is that it “is not great at helping kids conceptualize math.”

Khan’s strength became clear a few minutes later when the students opened their laptops. Cadwell strolled the room with an iPad in hand, tracking the youngsters as they moved through problems and modules, and intervening with a quick one-on-one when the data identified a student who was stumped. “I’m getting data in real time about each student instead of assuming the entire class needs intervention,” she explained afterward. Khan “lets me use my class time more wisely.”

It also means that teachers have to figure out new ways to work. “Teachers have to be willing to escape from the role of standing in front of the class” and flexible enough to group kids based on need, said Julian, who was a math coach in New York for 20 years and retains his big-city bustle.

As I watched Julian, Cadwell, and later Ruth Negash at Oakland’s Envision Academy of Arts and Technology, they seemed to be always on the move—meeting individually with children, tutoring small groups, and occasionally addressing the whole class. “I actually work harder” with Khan Academy, Julian said. “I’m up and around more, meeting with kids more.” That gives time back to students and, as Cadwell said, makes them “take ownership of their learning” by setting their own goals.

It also means a new level of classroom collaboration: youngsters can look at each other’s data and identify “coaches” among their classmates. Julian urged his 5th graders to ask the Khan program for a hint, watch a video, or ask a coach for help before coming to him. “Show him how to do it, don’t walk around the class giving answers,” he admonished would-be coaches. Pretty soon, a girl in a pink T-shirt turned to a girl in purple for coaching, and the two worked meticulously at solving 1.94 x 5.52.

The Khan Academy provides data in real time about each student, resulting in more efficient class time management for teachers.

Making It Work in Oakland

Los Altos is an affluent, tech-savvy community; I next wanted to see how Khan Academy could work in an inner-city classroom. So two days later, I visited Envision Academy, a downtown Oakland charter school, and Ruth Negash, an intense 4th-year teacher with wild, curly hair and two education degrees from San Francisco State University.

In 2011, Negash taught two summer-school classes of 9th, 10th, and 11th graders who had failed Algebra I. One randomly assigned class used Khan Academy; the other was a traditional math class. The results were promising enough that Negash now is using Khan in all of her 9th-grade algebra classes.

On the day I visited, Negash started both of her classes with a minilecture on linear equations, and then had her students solve for x in 7x + 4 = 18. The classes quickly became fidgety, first as Negash explained the problem, and then as youngsters finished at different speeds. Negash had to urge them to “respect the community of learning.”

But that changed a few minutes later when the youngsters opened their computers—I had noticed the same change in Cadwell’s class—and worked on Khan Academy for the next 75 minutes. I heard an occasional groan of exasperation. “They threw a trick question at me and sent me back to the beginning,” one boy moaned when his streak was broken. But the energy now was directed toward everyone’s screen.

Although everyone in Negash’s classes had taken, and presumably passed, algebra in 8th grade, their math competence ranged from marginal to impressive. In both periods, three or four youngsters claimed a table in the hallway, where they worked silently at lessons on quadrilaterals and complementary and supplementary angles, typical geometry exercises. But other students struggled with addition and subtraction, and one quarter don’t know their multiplication tables, Negash told me. (To keep those youngsters from falling even further behind, she gives them a reference sheet with the multiplication tables on it.) Negash told both classes to work on the Khan module on solving for a variable—a continuation of her minilecture—but Khan’s online prompts were urging most youngsters to first review lessons on lower-level skills.

Some of these youngsters simply “feel safer” doing arithmetic and will move on when they’ve experienced some math “success,” Negash predicted. Other educators had similar takes: Khan “takes away a lot of the fear about math” by letting kids backfill their gaps and then move ahead at their own pace, said Sandra McGonagle, the principal of Santa Rita Elementary in Los Altos, which also is using Khan Academy in its 5th and 6th grades.

“You don’t have to worry about getting something wrong in front of the whole class,” one of Julian’s 5th graders, the girl with blue nail polish, told me.

But in Negash’s classes, the wide range of math abilities is clearly a challenge. Negash sat with one low-performing student for much of the first-period class and with three others in the second period, hoping to encourage some of that “success.” Meanwhile, other students were calling for her help. Two boys were stumped by “adjacent” in a word problem; language issues crop up “every day,” Negash said.

When Negash finally had a moment to consult her Khan dashboard at the end of second-period class, she saw that one youngster had spent 62 minutes solidly working on math, but another had spent only 14 minutes. “It’s hard to figure out a different plan for 25 kids every day,” she sighed.

Gia Truong, superintendent of Envision Schools, said Khan Academy developers had urged her to let Negash’s students “start where they were” in math and move forward. But that’s creating a conflict when some kids are so far behind, she told me: “If you do that, you might never get to the algebra standards” that California students must pass in order to graduate.

“You’re in the new paradigm, but the grading standards are in the old paradigm,” she added.

Getting to Results

Test results at both Los Altos and Envision—the only two pilots to have any results so far—suggest that Khan Academy is working. Los Altos says that among the 7th graders who used the program in 2010–11—all remedial students—41 percent scored “proficient” or “advanced” on the California Standards Test compared to 23 percent the year before. Among 5th graders, 96 percent using Khan were proficient or advanced compared to 91 percent in the rest of the district.

At Envision’s summer-school program, the youngsters in the Khan Academy class spent only half their time on algebra—the rest of their time was on lower-level math skills—and yet still slightly outscored the traditional class, which spent all of its time on algebra.

Both districts are quick to say that it’s far too early to claim success: there were only 115 youngsters in the Los Altos pilot and just 20 at Envision. “It’s enough to say this is promising; it’s not enough to say this is the future,” former Envision Schools officer Brian Greenberg said.

Most observers of the Khan experiment agree that the measure of success must be student achievement. Otherwise, “I’m not very sympathetic,” said Michael Horn of Innosight Institute. As teaching is increasingly differentiated, however, schools may need a different kind of assessment. California’s year-end test can tell which 5th graders meet the state’s math standards; it can’t tell if some of those 5th graders have progressed to trigonometry or pre-calculus, as two Los Altos kids did last year.

But several experts also suggested measuring Khan’s impact by also looking at changes in the distribution of test scores. Khan Academy isn’t likely to close the learning gap because some kids, freed from the teach-to-the-middle plod of the usual classroom, gallop ahead. But Khan would be a success if low-performing kids move ahead too and “shift the bell curve to the right,” said the NewSchool Venture Fund’s Ted Mitchell.

Some other Khan watchers gave a surprisingly strong endorsement to such measures as student engagement and self-confidence, and to soft skills like goal setting and teamwork. “I don’t look at it as just based on the data,” said Mark Goines, the Los Altos school board member whose high-tech background (he helped develop and run TurboTax for Intuit, Inc.) suggests a fine reading of the data. “The kids seem to be happy about learning. That makes me excited,” he said.

What about increasing class size, I asked: Should Khan’s success be measured in part on its ability to increase teacher productivity? In elementary schools, where students generally spend the day with one teacher, increasing class size because of Khan would mean bigger classes in every other subject, too. And Goines, who said he has viewed “hundreds” of online programs, cautioned that there aren’t any comparable products in other subjects, especially in writing.

A fear among advocates of online learning is that slow learners will be abandoned in front of a computer, and a large classroom increases those chances. “It would then become a babysitting tool,” said McGonagle, Santa Rita’s principal.

At Envision Academy in Oakland, teachers say Khan takes away a lot of the fear about math by letting kids backfill their gaps and move forward at their own pace.

Blending Khan

Finally, I asked for “takeaways” from the Khan Academy experience. Greenberg told me that it’s more important that teachers be “nimble” and “entrepreneurial” than that they be tech wizards. All three teachers said they felt comfortable with technology, but that, more importantly, they were risk-takers. Even before she began piloting Khan Academy, Cadwell asked her PTA to buy classroom laptops for the youngsters in her remedial math class. “I figured if I could get them onto some practice sites, I’d figure things out from there,” she said.

Santa Rita’s McGonagle said it was “crucial” to have pilot teachers like Cadwell who can act as avatars for the rest of the district as it expands its blended learning. Cadwell is mentoring other Los Altos teachers this year. They “don’t need training as much as they need time” with the program, she told me (the data are fairly easy to use, but she and Julian asked Khan’s engineers for so much of it that both say they don’t always use it all).

The schools, meanwhile, are holding rollout meetings for parents and are urging parents to join the web site, where they can see the same data as the teachers, including whether little Bobby is really working on math up in his bedroom as he says he is. “It’s not just training the teachers; it’s training the community,” Goines said.

That training shouldn’t end with just learning to manipulate the data, though. It also means learning how teachers can use their time differently, how to work with youngsters who have different abilities, and how to blend Khan into the curriculum, not substitute for it, everyone told me. Cadwell and Negash said that they find gaps in the Khan curriculum, and that it isn’t completely aligned with either California or core-curriculum standards, although Khan is adding lessons to fill the holes.

“You can’t just put a kid down in front of a computer,” Goines said, although the kids I saw in Julian’s, Cadwell’s, and Negash’s classes sure seemed to enjoy it.

June Kronholz is an Education Next contributing editor.

The Chetty study shows that over a ten year period, the payoff for the students of a very effective teacher amounts to a total of $2.5 million. The harm done by a very ineffective teacher is the same. So if we could replace a terrible teacher with a great one, it would be worth $5 million total for all those kids affected by the switch.  And losing a great teacher, only to hire a bad one, would cost the same.   That’s convincing evidence for those who want to limit the tenure of non-performing teachers while giving the excellent ones their just reward.

But unions want to protect teacher tenure and pay all teachers the same, regardless of effectiveness.  So denying the Chetty study is absolutely crucial.

Though he lacks the necessary econometric skills, Michael Winerip takes up the assignment, claiming the data on teacher effectiveness, which comes from student testing during the 1990s, is too old to tell us anything.

But to ascertain the impact of teaching on student earnings that occur much later in life, it is of course necessary to look at those educated in the 1990s.   Those students have now finished high school (or not), gone to college (or not), and entered the work force (or not).  For today’s students, no one has that information–for the obvious reason that they are still too young.

Aha! says Mr. Winerip. That is the fatal flaw. Back in the 1990s, when students took standardized tests, No Child Left Behind did not exist, so “whether those results are applicable to our post-2004 high-stakes world, we cannot tell.”

If we are to buy this argument, the data will always be too old to tell us anything.  To learn what works we have to wait twenty years, and when that data is available, it will be just too old.

But is it?  Why should we assume that the tests taken back in the 1990s were more accurate than the post-NCLB tests given in 2005, when both teachers and students took them more seriously.  Student performance is more accurately measured when students take a test seriously and when teachers make sure the students understand the testing procedures to be followed. All that is more likely when tests count for something.

So if Chetty and his colleagues could identify large impacts of effective teaching using data from the 1990s, his successors will probably find even larger impacts from more accurate information gathered in the first decade of the 21^st century.

Of course, I cannot prove that, but it is certainly more likely than Winerip’s counter-hypothesis.  While he admits the 1990s tests were accurate, he claims tests today no longer are.  Only if Winerip is willing to make the astounding claim that most teachers today are cheating deliberately and systematically does that assertion hold. Otherwise, we can characterize his argument in one word:  Silly.

- Paul Peterson

When former governors Jeb Bush and Bob Wise strode to the stage at the 2011 Excellence in Action National Summit on Education Reform in San Francisco last October, Sal Khan had just shown the 750 attendees his vision of the digital future.

Khan is the former hedge-fund analyst turned education rock star who started Khan Academy, a nonprofit that reaches millions through its free online lessons and assessments. Tools like these, said Khan, can catapult education from its time-based roots toward a competency-based model in which students progress upon actual learning—mastery—instead of seat time.

At the same conference a year earlier, the two former governors, cochairs of Digital Learning Now!, released “10 Elements of High Quality Digital Learning.” This year, Bush and Wise said they had evaluated each of the 50 states against the elements and explained the assessment methodology they had used: states were judged against 72 individual metrics. (Disclosure: I was one of many who provided feedback on how different states ranked on the criteria and serve as a “digital luminary” for the Digital Learning Now! effort.) Rather than announce where the states fell in the ranking, the governors gave the crowd a preview of their “Roadmap for Reform,” a guide to help states navigate different paths toward changing their online education policies (see sidebar).

With the road map in place, one might assume that moving into the future will be a straightforward exercise: the pieces are all there and model legislation is forthcoming, so state policymakers just have to enact the 10 Elements.

Of course, things are never so simple, and many questions remain.

Some questions reflect legitimate disagreement over Digital Learning Now!’s recommendations, even among those who agree with its broad vision. An obvious flash point will be the idea that states require students to take at least one college- or career-prep course online to earn a high school diploma.

One argument in favor of the requirement is that the outcome from taking an online course—gaining the skills to succeed in a digital environment and perhaps become more self-driven—is valuable in a world in which postsecondary education and workforce training are increasingly done online. Yet some see this as yet another input-based requirement in a system already overburdened with mandates, and in conflict with the spirit of digital learning: if the experience is so important or compelling, won’t students naturally flock to online learning, particularly given Digital Learning Now!’s recommendation that dollars follow students to the online course of their choice?

Another consideration is that elementary-school students don’t take courses—at least in the sense that high-school and middle-school students do—and so ensuring that elementary-school students have access to online learning at the course level seems to miss some fundamental principle. According to the state report cards, though, several states have achieved their goals at the elementary-school level, which only raises more questions.

Many of the pieces that Digital Learning Now! casts as critical to the endeavor are not yet in place, and therefore no one actually knows how they will work in practice. For example, Digital Learning Now! has hitched its wagon to the enactment of the Common Core standards and accompanying next-generation assessments that should be in place by 2014. Whether these assessments will facilitate a competency-based learning environment unburdened by time—or lock in today’s system—is yet to be seen. States may abandon the digital effort when they see the up-front costs of implementing an online assessment system. And if they do, what will that mean for a plan that rests on paying for achievement instead of seat time? Valid, reliable, authentic, on-demand, and independent assessments are critical to moving to a system based on student learning outcomes. What about those courses that don’t fall under the Common Core? Does an outcome-based funding system require extending the Common Core to all subject areas, or will states create unique standards for subject areas other than math and English? Could entrepreneurs develop competency badges for their students that the public would recognize as legitimate? How would such competency measures be accredited?

A number of operational challenges need to be worked out as well. Utah, for example, passed in the spring of 2011 Senate Bill 65, based on the 10 Elements of High Quality Digital Learning. Utah state senator Howard Stephenson declared that the bill ends the “tyranny of time and place” in education by allowing dollars to follow high school students to their online course of choice. The legislation calls for the state to withhold 50 percent of the provider’s fee until the student successfully completes the course.

Not surprisingly, the devil has been in the details. Crafting a viable funding model for online courses that makes sense for districts and providers alike has not been easy. Even more challenging is helping schools and districts transition to a world in which students still need some of the services they provide but take most of their courses online. How does funding work in this model? How do schools create the flexible schedules and offer the critical services—many of which may be nonacademic—to accommodate students’ varying needs? How do they transition to this service—or community center—model?

A related set of issues plagues the funding model from the state’s fiscal perspective. If students progress based on competency instead of cohort, the state should presumably reward schools and providers that help students progress faster. And Digital Learning Now! suggests that it should reward those providers that help students make the most growth. Set aside for a moment the demands on state data systems created by an outcome-based system that rewards growth and the fact that these systems are not in place today. If this policy were in place, the state would be on the hook for paying for a student who masters, say, 20 half-semester courses in a given year, rather than a more conventional 12 or 14. How will states deal with this fiscal uncertainty? Holding back students seems like a poor choice, as does punishing schools that can educate students faster with less revenue.

And what if a student masters the high school curriculum by the time she is 15, as many students undoubtedly could? Does she go to college? Does she take time off? Or does she stay in high school with her friends but take college courses? If so, who pays?

Suggesting that a road map document could tackle such complexity isn’t fair. But a glimpse into the exciting— and uncertain—future presented by Digital Learning Now! does raise many legitimate questions. That’s no reason to delay implementing its recommendations though; innovation is never perfect right out of the box. Iteration in practice is critical. With the “Roadmap” coming on the heels of Khan’s conference presentation, surely some in the audience wondered whether innovations yet to come might even clear away many of the familiar roadblocks.

Michael Horn is cofounder and executive director of education at Innosight Institute.

In the video, leaders from Rocketship and School of One discuss the advantages of digital learning while sharing their concerns about California laws and union regulations that have limited the role of online learning.

More about the book is available here.

HT: Joanne Jacobs

The market is plenty motivated to create disruptive products and services to serve the public education system, but today’s policies and regulations don’t incentivize and reward those products and services that best serve students. As a result, philanthropic dollars are critical to help create the correct conditions such that those products that are efficacious and serve a higher end—student learning—are the ones that gain share.

As we’ve argued, public policy should reward those providers that best deliver student outcomes—and punish those providers that do not serve the public good.

There is one area, however, where I think philanthropic dollars should probably fund products and services, which is in the category of assessments. If we’re going to have a system that pays providers on how students do on outcome measures, we need robust assessments that are authentic and that people trust. The political incentives—for a variety of reasons—to create high-quality assessments aren’t particularly strong, so having philanthropists invest dollars to create these assessments and continue to push innovation is critical.

This is why yesterday’s announcement that The William and Flora Hewlett Foundation will award a $100,000 prize to the designers of software that can reliably automate essay grading for state tests to drive testing of deeper learning is so important. Open Education Solutions and The Common Pool designed and will be managing the competition.

The Hewlett Foundation’s leadership in creating better assessments to measure critical reasoning and writing is a big step forward—and its use of Kaggle, a platform for predictive modeling competitions, to host the competition is clever.

According to the press release, “The automated scoring competition intends to solve the longstanding problem of high cost and low turnaround of current testing deeper learning such as student essays. The goal is to shift testing away from standardized bubble tests to tests that evaluate critical thinking, problem solving and other 21st century skills.”

In addition, the competition is being conducted with the support of the two state testing consortia that are currently designing the next-generation assessments for the Common Core. Having this buy-in and collaboration gives the competition serious validity and the potential to have real impact.

-Michael Horn

The top-line findings, that blended learning models cost an estimated $8,900 per pupil (+/- 15%) and fully online schools cost $6,400 (+/- 20%) — compared to traditional expenditures averaging $10,000 — will surely be repeated in statehouse policy battles throughout the country. But, those who actually read the short brief will quickly realize that the authors have bent over backwards to caveat their findings in multiple ways. The most important of these caveats? The author’s cost figures reflect estimates of what online and blended schools are currently spending, rather than what they should be spending. In other words, since we have little understanding of how spending relates to student outcomes, the authors cannot say much about either the effectiveness or productivity of this spending. Is it the right amount? We just don’t know.

Still, readers of the paper will better understand the various components of costs in blended and fully online programs – and how they differ from one another and with traditional instruction. These insights should inform those looking to evaluate digital programs by helping them ask better questions about the choices these programs have made and how they align with an overall instructional philosophy. For example, online programs could spend relatively little on content, relying primarily on their teachers to adapt free and open educational resources. In that case, the program would instead need to invest in its educators, ensuring that they have both the support and expertise needed to assemble and modify curriculum. Likewise, programs investing in sophisticated adaptive content will likely pursue a different instructional model.

Finally, one part of the paper will hopefully improve the overall dialogue around potential “cost savings” from digital innovations. The authors correctly note the wide variations in types of blended and online programs, along with the many different reasons that educators and policymakers pursue these programs. Often, advocates confuse attempts to reduce overall costs with efforts to re-allocate the same costs into a different instructional model (i.e., Rocketship). The first results in lower total expenditures. While the latter may mean lower expenditures in certain areas, such as facilities, those savings are put back into different areas in an attempt to be more productive or focus resources on a particularly vexing instructional problem.

As debates around digital learning become increasingly prominent across the country, it would behoove advocates on all sides to better understand the economics behind these programs. This paper is a helpful start, not only for its content, but also for highlighting the ongoing need to better understand the student outcomes that result from these public expenditures.

-Bill Tucker

California policy has done its best to create a byzantine—some might say bizarre—set of regulations to frustrate the power of online learning to do just that. From geographic barriers that limit the ability of students in certain locales to access online learning to restricting blended learning in some unfortunate ways, California has created a maze to frustrate would-be innovators.

There have been some attempts by legislators over the last couple of years to begin to rectify some of these problems, but they have only stalled. Although some charter school operators, such as Rocketship Education and KIPP Empower, as well as some school districts, like Riverside School District, have created stellar blended-learning models, the most advanced school districts in California in online and blended learning have seen their efforts frustrated and curtailed. Even the exciting emerging blended-learning models appearing throughout California in response to tight budgets are limited in how innovative they could be by California’s regulatory landscape.

Against this backdrop, a group called Education Forward has introduced “The California Student Bill of Rights Act”—a proposed ballot initiative that would unlock some of the most onerous barriers to online and blended learning in California. But it would do so in an indirect way.

The initiative is actually not about online or blended learning per se; instead it’s designed to solve one of the most pressing problems facing California students today.

That problem is this: a stunning 1 million high school students in California—roughly 50 percent of the state’s high school student population—attend schools that do not offer the full slate of courses required for admission to the state’s university systems. This means that in many of California’s public high schools, students can graduate, but they won’t be able to get into a UC or CSU college even if they have a good GPA and good test scores.

The initiative solves this problem by creating a mechanism to move beyond simple seat-time funding and instead offer fractional funding to the course level, so students can take courses from an outside institution if their home school doesn’t offer a certain course. The initiative also stipulates that a school or district cannot deny students access to the courses needed for admission to the University of California and California State University systems, including college prep and Advanced Placement courses—a statement of a student’s basic educational rights.

If the initiative gathers the requisite number of signatures to be on the ballot, with a single vote this November, California’s voters could eliminate one of the most egregious examples of inequity in its educational system—and it won’t cost taxpayers any additional funds to do it. This fact alone should allow people from all sides to come together and get behind this.

The initiative certainly isn’t perfect—no initiative or bill is. It leaves a lot of discretion up to several entities, from the departments of education and finance to potentially the legislature—to create the mechanisms to make this all work well. If it passes, the “real” work would likely begin afterward. Some of the organizers behind Education Forward have some clever ideas about how to fund the online courses a student might take, for example—by offering 50 percent of funding to the provider up-front for enrollment, 25 percent for the student passing the course, and the last 25 percent upon successful passage of the state final exam—but this idea, which moves the focus to student outcomes, isn’t codified explicitly in the initiative (although the notion of competency-based learning is, which might lead to such an outcomes-based funding system).

But what successful passage of the measure would do is assert the voice of the people of California as a means to pressure the stalled legislature to do the right thing. And in so doing, it could do more than just solve the problem of equity to high-quality educational opportunities in the state, it also creates a mechanism for competency-based learning, establishes a strong grounding for what online learning and blended learning are, and eliminates the outmoded geographic barriers that prevent students from being able to access high-quality learning opportunities no matter where they originate in the state.

As such, it’s a much-needed breath of fresh air for a state that has been stuck for years now when it comes to education policy—and it could lead the way to bigger and better things ahead.

-Michael Horn

But just as these criticisms aren’t going away, neither is online learning itself. The genie is out of the bottle. So how can we go about drafting policies that will push digital learning in the direction of quality?

This is something we at Fordham are thinking a lot about, and we’ve published three papers (so far) in our series, Creating Sound Policy for Digital Learning: Rick Hess on quality control; Paul Hill on funding; and Bryan and Emily Hassel on teachers. And in January, we’ll publish an analysis by the Parthenon Group of what high-quality fulltime online learning really costs.

I’ll leave it to others to rebut the Times’ extremely selective use of data, expert opinion, and evidence. Where the article landed a punch, in my view, was around the perverse incentives at play today. Clearly K12, and its well-paid CEO, Ron Packard, face strong incentives to boost enrollment at their schools. Unfortunately, states haven’t figured out a way to create similar incentives around quality. And that needs to change.

First, a short digression. I worked at K12 a long, long time ago, just after its creation. (I believe I was employee number 10.) I needed a job, and I convinced Bill Bennett to create a role for me (the august-sounding Vice President for Community Partnerships) in which I would figure out how to take K12’s rich resources and make them available for poor kids. Our basic assumption was that K12’s model—which relied on parents or other caretakers doing most of the instruction—wouldn’t be feasible for kids living in poverty, most of whom would need the custodial care offered by traditional public schools.

To be honest, I didn’t make much progress. The learning materials weren’t even created yet, and so I had few “partnerships” to offer to communities. I left after 9 months for an appointment in the George W. Bush administration.

But what a difference a decade makes. One of the real surprises of the online learning movement is that lots of poor families are choosing to give it a try, and that explains (to a large degree) why K12’s test scores are lagging. (Yes, poverty and achievement are linked, at least for now.)

And the impression painted by the Times article is that online education companies like K12 have every reason to sign up as many parents as possible—poor, rich, whatever—regardless of how prepared they are to tackle the challenge of home-based instruction. Because of some states’ sloppy finance systems, the schools can keep the money if the families change their minds and head back to traditional schools. And, as has been true for all public schools since the beginning of time, the online schools get paid whether their students are learning or not.

Fixing the payment problem is a no brainer. (Schools of all kinds should only get paid for the days of instruction that kids actually show up for.) But is it time to consider performance-based funding, too? To pay companies like K12 more or less depending on how their students perform on state tests or depending on their graduation rates?

In his paper for Fordham, Paul Hill dismisses the idea, arguing:

Pay for performance would create a harsh environment for all education providers. Conventional, virtual, and hybrid schools might spend money on a student’s instruction for a whole course or semester yet receive nothing in return. Online vendors of all kinds, who have little control over their students’ effort or persistence, could be even more at risk. In general, this approach would limit the unproductive use of public funds and quickly destroy any vendor that could not demonstrate good results. It would favor providers with deep pockets, e.g., district-run schools and online vendors supported by large foundations. Performance-based payment as defined here could create a lethal environment for smaller-scale innovators.

He’s probably right about smaller-scale innovators, but I still think it’s worth a try, at least for full-time online schools. (It might be harder in the “blended learning” setting, where a child might be taking just one or two subjects online.)

What if K12 only got paid for every student that made at least a year’s worth of progress on the state test? Some argue that this would create its own perverse incentives, encouraging the company to cherry pick students who are most likely to succeed. But if the measure is student growth, and the test being used is a good one (a big if, admittedly), then all kids but those with severe cognitive disabilities should be seen as contenders.

Instead of indiscriminately signing up students willy-nilly, K12 would then have a reason to vet each family’s situation to make sure they are ready for the rigors of online learning. They would invest, up-front, in assessing whether the child’s parents or other caretakers are up to the task of instructing the student, and whether they have a home situation conducive to success. And then K12 would work like the dickens to make sure every student was making strong progress over the course of the year.

Personally, I’d like to see performance-based pay for all schools. That won’t fly anytime soon, but performance-pay for online learning (at the least the full-time, virtual charter school version) could. Which state is ready to give it a try?

-Mike Petrilli

Kipp shares her experience teaching 11th and 12th grade English online while she resides with her family in rural Colorado. Though not physically in a classroom, Kipp has been able to successfully engage students through live class sessions, emails, instant messaging, and texting. Kipp used to teach in a traditional classroom setting but says that despite some of the unique challenges teaching virtually presents, she finds the online teaching experience more rewarding and in many instances more effective.

My take is threefold. (An earlier version of this originally appeared as an Ed Week commentary, but I thought it worth sharing a tweaked version here.)

First, claims that teachers are, in Duncan’s words, “desperately underpaid,” are a familiar refrain. Yet, given that we’ve steadily boosted staffing and after-inflation spending in recent decades to little obvious effect, and that states and districts are wrestling with structural shortfalls, it’s healthy to question such orthodoxies. Biggs and Richwine remind us that the costs of teacher benefits dramatically inflate the cost of compensation, even if the results aren’t always obvious when scanning a paycheck. Recall, for example, that University of Arkansas economist Bob Costrell pointed out during the Wisconsin collective bargaining fight earlier this year that the average Milwaukee teacher earned a salary of $56,500 but, due to benefits, actually cost the district $100,005 in total compensation. This ought to be of particular concern to educators eager to see more of their compensation show up in their pay stubs. In light of that, I’m disappointed (if not surprised) that most of the responses I’ve seen to Biggs and Richwine have been ad hominem, with Duncan declaring in the Huffington Post that the study “insults teachers and demeans the profession.”

Second, their analysis is intriguing, but it rests upon assumptions and data which deserve to be carefully scrutinized. For instance, Biggs and Richwine rely upon SAT and GRE scores to measure cognitive ability. It’s fair to ask both how good those metrics are and how much they may say about teaching ability. And it’s worth noting that their cognition data are nearly two decades old; if the makeup of the teaching force has changed significantly in that time, it would obviously change the outcomes. Similarly, the job-security and benefits data don’t reflect more recent developments or the fact that teaching positions may be less secure going forward; it will be interesting to see how such changes might impact the underlying data. At the same time, it’s important to note that Biggs and Richwine penned for the HuffPo what I thought was a pretty compelling response to the two methodological criticisms that Duncan had raised.

Third, I ultimately think the are-teachers-overpaid-or-underpaid question is just not that interesting or helpful to those of us in the fields of schooling and education. It’s a useful question for policymakers who must decide how to allocate dollars for highways, health care, and schooling, but for those of us working in the K-12 arena, the more relevant question is: How do we most wisely spend the dollars we have?

For what it’s worth, I’m firmly convinced that, today, some teachers are underpaid and others are overpaid. When I am asked the long-standing question about whether teachers are underpaid or overpaid, my consistent refrain is, “Yes.” I’m much more interested in the broader issue of how we can rethink the profession, make fuller use of talented teachers, and wisely spend the dollars we do have than in debating what the “right” wage level should be.

Under today’s step-and-lane pay scales, the primary way we determine how much teachers are worth is how long they’ve taught and how many graduate credits they’ve accumulated. Now, there’s nothing innately wrong with step-and-lane compensation. Indeed, when introduced in the early 20th century, it was a sensible response to reflexive, sweeping discrimination under which women were routinely paid half as much as their male counterparts. When a captive market of women had few options except to teach, the benefits of this more equitable system outweighed its defects.

Today, however, the world has changed. Whereas limited professional options meant that more than half of women graduating from college became teachers in mid-20th-century America, the figure today is closer to 15 percent. At the start of the 21st century, new college graduates–both men and women–are much less likely to stick to a job for long stretches, the competition for college-educated talent has intensified, and we are becoming better able to track educational outlays and outcomes. All this adds up to a new environment in which step-and-lane industrial-era pay is ill-suited to attracting and retaining talent. The consequence of treating different employees similarly, despite their varying work ethics and skills, has become a growing burden.

As school systems wrestle with tough fiscal decisions, it’s vital to understand that one-size-fits-all pay is insensitive to questions of productivity. Although the term “productivity” is typically regarded as a four-letter word in K-12 conversations, teacher productivity means nothing more than how much good a given teacher can do. If one teacher is regarded by colleagues as a far more valued mentor than another, or helps students master skills much more rapidly than another, it’s axiomatic that one teacher is more productive than the other. Yet, step-and-lane pay makes no allowance for such differences.

Today, we’re paying the most productive employees too little, paying their less productive colleagues too much, or, most times, a little of each. In a world of scarce talent and limited resources, this is a problem. School systems casually operate on the implicit assumption that most teachers are similarly adept at everything. In a routine day, a 4th grade teacher who is a terrific English language arts instructor might teach reading for just 90 minutes. This is an extravagant waste of talent, especially when one can stroll down the hallway and see a less adept colleague offering 90 minutes of pedestrian reading instruction.

One approach to using talent more wisely might entail overhauling teacher schedules and student assignment so that an exceptional 4th grade English language arts instructor would teach many more students. Colleagues, in turn, would shoulder that teacher’s other instructional responsibilities. An essential component of such rethinking is to adjust compensation to recognize the importance of their various roles.

After all, we pay thoracic surgeons much more than we do pediatric nurses–not because we think they’re better people or because they have lower patient-mortality rates, but because their positions require more sophisticated skills and more intensive training and because surgeons are harder to replace. Salary should be a tool for solving problems by finding smarter ways to attract, nurture, and use talent; it should not be an obstacle to doing so.

Almost any effort to really rethink staffing and pay entails some educators earning more–probably, a lot more–and other educators earning less. That sounds about right. The real question isn’t whether we should pay all teachers more or less; it’s how to pay the right teachers more, in a way that serves students and maximizes the bang we get for the educational buck.

-Frederick Hess

This post also appears on Rick Hess Straight Up.

Stanford’s move is significant. But, unless it goes further, Stanford University Online High School is still just a small, selective program for gifted students. Here are two ways to have real impact:

1. Scale the program, allowing tens of thousands of students to participate. At this point, though, the university seems reluctant to grow the school much beyond the size of a typical elite independent school.
2. Generate research and knowledge, helping to define what quality high school online education looks like, what works for whom, what implementation practices matter, and why.

Perhaps Stanford’s move will push other institutions to consider the real game-changer – offering elite quality education, at an affordable cost, on a more massive scale. When will the University of Michigan, UVA, UNC, Berkeley, or any of our other great public universities do this for an entire state?

If the national movement to “reform” public education through vouchers, charters and privatization has a laboratory, it is Florida. It was one of the first states to undertake a program of “virtual schools”—charters operated online, with teachers instructing students over the Internet—as well as one of the first to use vouchers to channel taxpayer money to charter schools run by for-profits….

In Florida, only fourteen months after Crist handed a major victory to teachers unions, a new governor, Rick Scott, signed a radical bill that could have the effect of replacing hundreds of teachers with computer avatars. Scott, a favorite of the Tea Party, appointed Levesque as one of his education advisers. His education law expanded the Florida Virtual School to grades K-5, authorized the spending of public funds on new for-profit virtual schools and created a requirement that all high school students take at least one online course before graduation….

A combination of factors has made this year what Moe calls an “inflection point” in the march toward public school privatization. For one thing, recession-induced fiscal crises and austerity have pressured states to cut spending. In some cases, as in Florida, where educating students at the Florida Virtual School costs nearly $2,500 less than at traditional schools, such reform has been sold as a budget fix.

But, here’s what the article left out: Florida Virtual School, which is prominently connected with privatization in four separate paragraphs of the article, is not a private corporation. It is, instead, a state-owned and state-run institution. There are no shareholders. There are, though, real, live teachers. Led by a former elementary school teacher, the school employs over a 1,000 state certified teachers, almost all of whom have also taught in traditional classrooms. It is fully accredited by two major agencies: The Southern Association of Colleges and Schools (SACS) and The Commission on International and Trans-Regional Accreditation. And, while it is not a charter school, it was the country’s first state-wide Internet-based public high school and has enrolled hundreds of thousands of public school students since 1997.

Florida Virtual School is, in short, a poster child for public sector innovation.

But none of that fit into author Fang’s narrative. It would have made a simple story into the complex one that it is.

K-12 online learning is vast and varied, crossing both political and ideological lines. Programs range from Stanford Online High School to specialized dropout prevention high schools run in partnership with community-based nonprofits toRocketship, which plows savings from technology into extended learning opportunities and higher teacher salaries, to the North Carolina Virtual Public School, a signature program of Democratic Governor Bev Purdue (launched when she was the state’s Lt. Governor). Full-time virtual schools, the majority of which are run under contract to a for-profit schooling company, are part of this landscape. So, too, are numerous traditional school districts — including those who run their own programs and those who oversee contracts with private providers.

Within this landscape, as in any new arena, there are areas of serious concern. Among full-time online learning programs, what we know of performance is decidedly mixed. And, Fang’s article is correct to point out the moneyed influence and lack of transparency from operators like Ohio’s White Hat Management. We’ve been writing about these issues for several years.

But, just as alternative energy should not be defined by Solyndra, neither should online learning be defined by White Hat. Strong oversight to ensure both high quality learning experiences and accountability for public funds is essential. So, too, is knowledgeable and objective reporting.

Schools will not need as many conventional teachers as they did yesterday, but those they need will be able to tap top-notch technology and instructional support teams to achieve excellence at scale. They’ll get paid more, too, potentially a lot more. And all this can be done within tight budgets so long as education systems judiciously blend technology and people.

Digital learning has the potential to transform the teaching profession in three major ways:

• Extending the reach of excellent teachers to more students.
• Attracting and retaining more excellent teachers.
• Boosting effectiveness and job options for average teachers.

Extending the reach of the best. In the digital future, teacher effectiveness will matter even more than it does today. As digital learning spreads, students worldwide will gain access to core knowledge and skills instruction. What will increasingly differentiate outcomes for schools, states, and nations is how well responsible adults carry out the more complex instructional tasks: motivating students to go the extra mile, teaching them time management, addressing social and emotional issues that affect their learning, and diagnosing problems and making the right changes when learning stalls.

The top 20 or 25 percent of teachers already meet these challenges. But in traditional classrooms, they only reach 20 to 25 percent of students. That’s where digital learning can help.

Digital technology, along with changes in teacher roles and schedules, should make it possible for top teachers to assume responsibility for all students, not just 20 or 25 percent of them

For example, by replacing 25 – 50 percent of teaching in some subjects, digital instruction can free excellent teachers’ time, enabling them to take responsibility for more students – keeping similar class sizes and gaining planning time. These “time-technology swaps” are already used in top-performing schools that combine digital learning with excellent teachers to boost results.

Digital tools can also connect excellent teachers working live with students across the hall, state, or nation – using web cameras and email. Shy instructional masters can help design smart software to personalize learning. Star performing content masters can go viral on digital video, and someday holograms, to millions of students anywhere, who with excellent teachers can convert that access into stellar learning.

Attracting and retaining the best. Digital learning will also transform career opportunities for excellent teachers. As they reach more students, they should earn more out of the per-pupil funds generated by the expanded number of students. The chance of enhanced advancement and pay will, in turn, make the profession a more attractive long-term career for top performers, wooing unfulfilled engineers and lawyers into a better life.

-Bryan Hassel and Emily Asycue Hassel

This blog entry also appears on Flypaper. It is based on “Teachers the Age of Digital Instruction,” a paper published this week by the Fordham Institute as part of its Creating Sound Policy for Digital Learning series.

“Teachers,” written by Public Impact’s Bryan and Emily Hassel, opens with an important and refreshing perspective: “that digital education needs excellent teachers and that the teaching profession needs digital education.” Rather than replacing teachers, the authors see digital learning as transforming teaching — both by offering tools for traditional classroom teachers and by enabling entirely new ways of teaching. Often missing from conversations around technology, the paper outlines the varied roles that teachers play, including helping with motivation, social and emotional support, and stretching critical thinking and analytical skills. It concludes that the future is a much more differentiated field, with a smaller number of higher-paid, more empowered teachers acting in teams with a variety of specialized and lower-paid support personnel. (School of One offers one glimpse of this future.)

Some of the paper’s most interesting discussions touch on new administrative structures and the role of unions. The authors see today’s teacher evaluation battles as a relic of an old one-classroom, one-teacher model. Instead, they envision a different form of accountability, such as that in a small professional firm, where one person takes on both leadership and administrative responsibility to coordinate a variety of teaching personnel and supporting technology tools. They reject the notion that digital learning is necessarily a union-killer. Instead, they see a role for a new type of union, modeled perhaps after the Screen Actors Guild, which provides employment and pay security in increasingly differentiated teacher roles, but does not constrain top performers. One quibble though, is that when the paper discusses these new models, it too often uses a static, more-effective/least-effective teacher frame. A more helpful frame might place the same weight on effective teaching, but explore the interdependency between a teachers’ role and effectiveness.

Overall, the paper both rightly recognizes the fallacy of technology replacing teachers and appropriately posits that digital tools will be limited in potential if shoved into traditional teaching models. Additional exploration should go even further, contemplating how digital learning might also change and possibly more tightly align the roles of informal and out-of-school educators, including those in museums, cultural institutions, youth development programs, and of course, homes.

The second paper, written by Paul Hill, details how current school funding systems conflict with new forms of digital learning that cross school, district, and time boundaries:

The problem boils down to this: Our system doesn’t fund schools, and certainly doesn’t fund students. It funds district-wide programs, staff positions, and so forth. This makes it difficult, if not impossible, to move money from concrete facilities, established programs, and entrenched staff roles to new uses like equipment, software, and remote instructional staff. Yet to encourage development and improvement of technology-based methods, we must find ways for public dollars to do just that—and to follow kids to online providers chosen by their parents, teachers, or themselves.

Hill blames this funding rigidity — not the lack of ideas from teachers, principals, or innovators — for the relative scarcity of education innovation at scale. And, while states have developed workaround solutions, few go far enough. His solution: a new “follow-the-child” funding system. While many states already have what is often called weighted-student funding, where funding follows students to their educational institutions and is weighted to account for greater needs, such as those of an English language learner, a new system needs to go beyond “whole school” models. In other words, if digital learning “unbundles” school so that students can choose courses and learning experiences from multiple places, as in Florida and other states, then funding needs to be just as nimble. And, it even needs to accommodate parents who want to assemble their own learning experiences. Hill says:

Funds available for a child’s education must include all the taxpayer funds available to support students’ education. To make this happen, some government entity would need to assemble all of the funds available from all sources for K-12 education in a locality, keep an account for every student, and faithfully allocate its con-tents to whatever school or education program a student attends.

Hill goes on to discuss important implications of these ideas, including dilemmas around accountability and choice. And, while many might reflectively reject Hill’s ideas as a digital-age voucher, there’s also the kernel of another more radical idea. If taken to its logical extreme, localities might not just assemble K-12 funding, but also those for all sorts of other services, such as juvenile justice, mental health, out-of-school programs, etc., enabling an approach that just might resemble a digital-era Harlem Children’s Zone.

Faced with a $30 million shortfall in its $295 million budget for the 2011–12 school year, the Adams 12 school district in north Denver laid off custodians, furloughed teachers, trimmed programs, reduced benefits—and then took its budget scalpel to student activities.

The district dropped middle-school sports, cut back on travel for its high-school teams, and pared $500,000 from the $2 million budget that supports afterschool activities like the Math Olympiad and spelling bee at Centennial Elementary, the technology and drama clubs at Rocky Top Middle School, and the anime (Japanese animation) and Knowledge Bowl clubs at Mountain Range High.

Christopher Gdowski, superintendent of the 42,000-student district, talks hopefully of volunteers stepping in to fill some of the gaps. The YMCA has approached him about taking over some of the sports teams, even offering to buy the used school uniforms and the licensing rights to the school mascots. But some activities may have trouble finding sponsors, he concedes, and teachers union contracts may preclude others from turning to the community for advisors.

“We’re hoping for the best, but we’re fearing the worst,” Gdowski told me.

With school districts struggling to keep their noses above choppy budget waters and voters howling about taxes, should schools really be funding ping-pong and trading-card clubs? Swim teams, swing dancing, moot court, powder-puff football? Latino unions, gay-straight alliances, the Future Business Leaders of America, the French Honors Society, the jazz band, the knitting club? The barbell club at Adams 12’s Niver Creek Middle School?

As it turns out, maybe they should. There’s not a straight line between the crochet club and the Ivy League. But a growing body of research says there is a link between afterschool activities and graduating from high school, going to college, and becoming a responsible citizen.

“Honestly, the place that best prepared me for college was the hardwood court of men’s varsity basketball” in high school, Andrew Snow, a University of Michigan senior and pre-law major, e-mailed me recently. “That court taught me hard work, sacrifice, teamwork, humility…and leadership,” he added, plus, “how to deal with people in social situations” and “responsibility off the court [because] if you made a bad decision, someone would see it.”

Artists for Humanities serves 250 teens annually in an intensive arts micro-enterprise program.

Cause or Effect?

The U.S. Department of Education last compiled data on extracurricular activities a decade ago, when it reported that more than half the country’s high-school sophomores participated in sports, that one-fifth were in a school-sponsored music group, and that cheerleading and drill teams, hobby, academic, and vocational clubs each involved about 10 percent of kids.

At affluent suburban schools, the choice of activities can be dizzying. Walt Whitman High School in Montgomery County, Maryland, a Washington, D.C., suburb, offered 89 clubs (equestrian, Persian, unicycle…), 26 sports, seven choral ensembles, seven bands or orchestras, a newspaper, a literary magazine, and a yearbook last year.

Whitman’s feeder school, Thomas W. Pyle Middle School, offered even more: 100 activities, including a stock market club, cooking, a math team, and a magic club.

Whitman says that 96 percent of its students go to college; its SAT scores in math and critical reading are 250 points above the national average. That isn’t because it has an equestrian team and a Shakespeare club, of course. The education department data show that kids from families in the top third by income and education are half again as likely to take part in sports and almost twice as likely to participate in music as kids from the bottom third. Almost 80 percent of the adults in Whitman’s zip code are college graduates, and the median household income is three times the U.S. average.

The data also show that kids with the highest test scores are the most active in afterschool activities. Two-thirds of kids in the top quarter of test takers played sports, for example, compared to less than half in the lowest quarter.

So, is there a link? Did kids who joined afterschool activities become good students, or did good students join afterschool activities?

As with a lot of social science research, the findings about extracurriculars aren’t always consistent or conclusive: You can’t randomly assign kids to soccer, after all. But some researchers insist there is a cause-effect relationship between activities and academic success, not just the other way around.

Margo Gardner, a research scientist at Columbia University’s National Center for Children and Families (NSCF), is among them—and certainly not alone. Using data from the 1988 National Education Longitudinal Study (NELS), and controlling for poverty, race, gender, test scores, and parental involvement, Gardner has calculated that the odds of attending college were 97 percent higher for youngsters who took part in school-sponsored activities for two years than for those who didn’t do any school activities.

The odds of completing college were 179 percent higher, and the odds of voting eight years after high school, a proxy for civic engagement, were 31 percent higher.

Gardner repeated the analysis using propensity-score matching, that is, comparing kids whose profiles suggested they had a similar propensity either to join or sit out afterschool activities. Even within those groups of similar kids, those who participated in activities had better school success rates than those who didn’t.

The National Center for Education Statistics, in its own analysis of the longitudinal or NELS data, found that high-school seniors who were involved in school activities were less likely to cut class and play hooky than kids who weren’t involved. Three times as many had a GPA of 3.0 or higher; twice as many scored in the top quarter on math and reading tests. And 68 percent expected to get a college degree, compared to 48 percent of kids who weren’t involved in school activities.

Other researchers have approached the question differently, but come up with complementary results. Angela Duckworth, a University of Pennsylvania psychologist, looked at college activities as a predictor of success. She rated the résumés of recent graduates who were applying for their first teaching jobs. She gave the highest scores to those people who had been in a college activity for several years, any college activity, and who had attained a level of leadership or achievement (say, MVP on the softball team).

Those with the highest “grit” scores, as she calls them—with the most persistence—turned out to be the best teachers, based on the academic gains of their students. As an added bonus, the “grittiest” scorers also were more likely to stay in their jobs rather than quit midyear.

Duckworth attributes the difference to perseverance rather than talent: There wasn’t any significant difference in teacher effectiveness based on the SAT scores and college GPAs of the job applicants, she calculated. This isn’t just about whether teachers are new, Duckworth told me: People who are persistent and passionate about something, whether cross-country or baton twirling or spelling bees, will carry over that enthusiasm to other parts of their lives.

Similarly, Betsey Stevenson, an assistant professor at the University of Pennsylvania’s Wharton School of business and currently the chief economist at the U.S. Department of Labor, has found a link between high-school sports and girls’ success. Stevenson compared the college-going and labor-force rates between girls who attended high school before the 1972 passage of Title IX and those who attended after. Title IX, an amendment to the Civil Rights Act of 1964, required high schools and colleges to offer girls and boys the same opportunities to play sports.

Again controlling for age, race, and their state of residence, Stevenson calculated that for every 10-percentage-point rise in the number of girls playing high-school sports in any state there was a 1-percentage-point increase in those going to college and a 1- to 2-point rise in those with jobs. Title IX led to a 30-percentage-point rise in girls’ sports participation, she adds.

The National Center for Education Statistics found that high-school seniors who were involved in school activities were less likely to cut class and play hooky than kids who weren't involved. Three times as many had a GPA of 3.0 or higher.

Engaging Students

Temple University psychologist Laurence Steinberg, whose book, You and Your Adolescent: The Essential Guide for Ages 10–25, discusses afterschool activities. He suggested two more reasons for what he believes is a causal link between activities and academic success.

Kids who are involved in clubs and sports spend an extra couple of hours a week with an adult, usually a role model like a drama director or a football coach. “They don’t want to disappoint the coach,” Whitman’s principal, Alan S. Goodman, told me. All he has to do to straighten out a misbehaving athlete is to threaten to talk to the coach, he said: “‘Oh no, don’t talk to the coach,’ they tell me.”

Extracurriculars also make school more palatable for a whole lot of kids who otherwise find it bleak or unsatisfying, Steinberg said. Grades improve not because of what kids are learning in the video club, but because the video club is making them enjoy school more, so they show up more often, find a circle of like-minded friends, and become more engaged in school.

Christopher Gdowski, Adams 12’s superintendent, echoed Steinberg when I asked him what he meant by “fearing the worst” if some afterschool activities are canceled. His district polled thousands of taxpayers as part of its budget process: A huge majority opposed eliminating all activities, but most agreed on trimming the number of activities each school could offer.

Gdowski said he worries that for “some meaningful number of kids,” those activities are what brings them to school. “That’s the hook,” he said, and budget cuts could leave that hook unbaited.

Penny-wise?

After years of steady increases in education spending, and with the expiry of federal stimulus funds, school districts are facing some unaccustomed belt-tightening this year. K–12 spending rose 39 percent between the 1989–90 and the 2007–2008 school years, according to the U.S. Census bureau, and hit $605 billion in 2009, the latest year for which it has reported numbers.

But the National Business Officers Association has calculated that spending is expected to be off $2.5 billion this year from a year earlier. Florida’s 2012 budget cut K–12 spending by 8 percent, or about $540 a student. Arizona cut $183 million from K–12; New York cut more than $1 billion, and Colorado cut $250 million, according to the National Conference of State Legislatures.

The Center on Education Policy surveyed districts in the spring and found that 46 percent expect funding decreases of 5 percent or more in the 2011–12 school year (the poll asked districts about their “total funds available” for the year, excluding federal stimulus monies).

Staff salaries and benefits are taking much of the hit. But as bus routes, textbook purchases, and even cleaning supplies come under budget scrutiny, it’s no surprise that extracurriculars are in for some pain, too.

Diane M. Place, superintendent of the 1,700-student  Towanda, Pennsylvania, school district, told me she received hate mail and “horrendous calls” when she recommended a $30-a-household tax increase to close a $2.2 million gap in her $24 million budget. Instead, she cut the instruction budget by 9 percent and then went after extracurriculars. She eliminated the rifle and junior robotics clubs, JV soccer, majorettes and one cheerleading squad, and halved the funding for the forensics team and Future Business Leaders.

The 1,000-student Salida, Colorado, school district, facing at least a $500,000 budget gap, moved to a four-day week, and then announced plans to cut Key Club, Math Counts, jazz, and weight lifting. Coos Bay, Oregon, planned to let go a Knowledge Bowl coach in the middle school and a forensics coach in high school after the district chopped $44,000 from its activities fund. Cincinnati is thinking of shifting all of its extracurriculars onto a community group, a move it predicted will save $250,000 a year, largely in teacher coaching stipends.

Extracurriculars teach a lot of the skills you need as an adult: time management, leadership. self-discipline, and persistence.

Or Pound-Foolish?

There’s no ready estimate of how much districts spend for extracurriculars: Districts account differently for teachers’ afterschool pay (it can be lumped in with merit pay, says Stephen Frank of Education Resource Strategies), whether they include team buses in the extracurricular budget, how much they depend on parents and booster clubs for field maintenance and stage-set construction, if and how much they charge students to participate, whether they use federal Title I funds for afterschool enrichment, and so on.

Marguerite Roza, who studies school finance at the University of Washington, calculates that districts spend about the same to suit up a youngster to play a sport as to enroll her in a semester of, say, history. A difference is that there are three seasons for sports, but two semesters for history.

Districts increasingly are depending on kids and their parents to fund extracurriculars. State laws, not national policy, determine which school expenses must be taxpayer-funded and which can be charged to students as user fees. California recently settled a lawsuit brought by the American Civil Liberties Union against dozens of Golden State schools that levied fees for classroom materials, lab fees, and afterschool activities.

But elsewhere, the Pennsylvania School Boards Association counts 33 states where at least some school districts charge athletes anywhere from $25 to $1,500. The band fee at Medina Senior High in Ohio is $200. Arlington, Massachusetts, public schools charge youngsters $405 to join the cheerleading squad and $480 to wrestle. Lakeville, Minnesota, charges $190 to join the debate team and $110 for the chess club.

Many of the best student-athletes, musicians, actors—even cheerleaders and debaters—already are paying lots more than that for private lessons. And some of the most talented spurn their school’s programs in favor of club soccer teams and community orchestras, arguments that budget cutters sometimes cite for trimming extracurriculars.

But Steinberg counters that no one suggests eliminating math classes for mediocre students, or depending on private tutors for calculus. “You could extend that argument out to its illogical extreme,” he said.

At Whitman High, where kids pay a $40 district-wide activities fee, Goodman told me he would rather increase class size than eliminate activities. “You can cope with an extra kid in your class, but at 2:10” when school lets out and intramural basketball is canceled, “what do they do?”

Police statistics offer one answer: Juvenile crime peaks between 3 p.m. and 6 p.m. Education department data offer another: 31 percent of high-school seniors watched three or more hours of television every weekday in 2004, the last time the department ran the numbers, up from 9 percent in 1992.

Students write songs in an after-school program run by ZUMIX. The program offers young people the opportunity to travel thoughout New England, performing their original songs and engaging with other musicians.

Lessons That Last

Tony Wagner, codirector of the Change Leadership Group at Harvard’s Graduate School of Education, told me he did a focus group a decade ago with college students who graduated from a leading public high school in New England. He asked them what “important things” they remembered about high school, three to five years after leaving.

“They described all their experiences in extracurricular activities and sports. This went on for an hour,” he said. But about what the remembered from their academics, “they said, ‘you basically start over.’”

The takeaway, Wagner said, is that extracurriculars “teach a lot of the skills you need as an adult: time management, leadership, self-discipline, and persistence for doing work that isn’t extrinsically motivated.” That dovetails with Wagner’s academic work, which defines the “skills of the future” as including adaptability, leading by influence, and initiative.

“Kids who have a significant involvement in an extracurricular activity have a capacity for focus, self-discipline, and time management that I see lacking in kids who just went through school focused on their GPA,” he told me. Like Gardner and Duckworth, he doesn’t single out football players over the engineering team, or vice versa. The kind of activities “seems not to matter; what matters is the level of engagement,” he said.

I tested Wagner’s conclusion using an updated version of the focus group: I posted a question on the Facebook pages of my college-going sons. I asked their friends what they learned in high school that best prepared them for college, and received answers that were carbon copies of Wagner’s.

No one dumped on high school—“It’s not that I didn’t have fine teachers,” Andrew Snow e-mailed me—but no one credited AP chemistry with preparing them for college, either. In fact, no one mentioned classes at all. Instead, they wrote that extracurriculars introduced them to new ideas and interests, taught them to study more efficiently, developed their social skills, and exposed them to caring adults. “Coach was a maker of honorable men,” wrote Snow.

Justine Mrosak, a first-year medical student at the University of Minnesota, wrote that high school taught her “how to balance my academics with other passions.” Basketball and choir took time, she wrote. “But I didn’t want to give up doing the things that I loved just to get good grades, so I really learned how to schedule my time, prioritize my activities, and make my studying [as] efficient as possible.”

Steven Zuckerman, a pre-law major at the University of Michigan, wrote that “the most valuable thing” he learned was “to challenge my inhibitions by trying new things.” That meant playing sports “I had never tried before,” joining clubs “about things that I never thought would interest me,” and, inevitably, meeting “people with whom I never saw myself connecting.” That curiosity has followed him into college, where he has worked on political campaigns, he says.

I’d rise to the defense of Algebra I any day, and I assume any social scientist would, too. But, leadership, adaptability, social skills? Try a couple years on the school newspaper to learn that.

June Kronholz, a contributing editor, spent four years on her high-school newspaper and 30 years at the Wall Street Journal.

To get those challenging, high-wage jobs, today’s students are going to need college courses, vocational certification, or job training, many of which will be offered virtually. For perspective, nearly 30% of college and university total enrollment is online enrollment.

Schools must equip students with the knowledge and skills they will need for future success, and today that means using a technology-inclusive education. Yet less than 10 percent of our nation’s students are benefiting from digital learning.

Thankfully, state leaders are recognizing the power of digital learning and the impact it has on students’ future success. Michigan and Alabama were the first states to require an online learning experience in order to graduate high school. New Mexico requires students to either take an online course, a dual-enrolled course or an Advanced Placement course in order to graduate high school. This year, Florida passed an online course requirement.

Because of the leadership of Governor Otter and Superintendent of Public Instruction Tom Luna, Idaho is the latest state in a nationwide movement to use technology to prepare students to achieve in and outside of the classroom. By requiring students to take at least two credits online to graduate, the state is arming its kids with the knowledge and skills they will need to thrive in our increasingly digital world.

Equipping every student with a personalized digital learning experience is a must in today’s digitally-driven society. Digital learning can customize education with high expectations and ensure that all students graduate from high school with the knowledge and skills to succeed in college and careers. It leverages the power of technology to give students the ability to learn in their own style, at their own pace, providing all students the opportunity to achieve

Idaho’s actions are trailblazing a path of bold reforms that make systemic changes in education and extend customized digital learning to all students.

-Jeb Bush

As a “practitioner” of sorts, I’ve wondered the same thing for 15 years. The K–12 school sector generates little empirical research of any sort. And of this small amount, most is targeted to policymakers and superintendents, and concerns such matters as the effects of class size reduction, charter school attendance, or a merit-pay program for teachers. Why is there virtually no empirical education research meant to be consumed by the nation’s 3 million teachers, answering their questions?

Those 3 million teachers generate about 2 billion hour-long classes per year. We do not know empirically which “teacher moves,” actions that are decided by individual teachers in their classrooms, are most effective at getting students to learn. Why doesn’t this kind of research get done?

Mr. Gates has part of the answer. Money. For 2011, the Microsoft R&D budget is $9.6 billion, out of total revenue in the $60 billion range. The U.S. Department of Education’s Institute of Education Sciences (IES) represents only a fraction of total education research, but its budget gives some perspective: IES spends about $200 million on research compared to more than $600 billion of total K–12 spending. So, 15 percent to upgrade Microsoft, 0.03 percent to upgrade our nation’s schools. And while Microsoft’s research is targeted to the bottom line ($8.6 billion is on cloud computing, the profit center of the future), IES spends almost nothing examining the most important aspect of schools: the decisions and actions that individual teachers control or make.

One IES project is the What Works Clearinghouse (WWC), established in 2002 to provide “a central and trusted source of scientific evidence for what works in education.” The WWC web site lists topic areas like beginning reading, adolescent literacy, high school math, and the like. For each topic, WWC researchers summarize and evaluate the rigor of published studies of products and interventions. One might find on the WWC site evidence on the relative effectiveness of middle-school math curricula or of strategies to encourage girls in science, for example.

But there is almost nothing examining the thousands of moves teachers must decide on and execute every school day. Should I ask for raised hands, or cold-call? Should I give a warning or a detention? Do I require this student to attend my afterschool help session, or make it optional? Should I spend 10 minutes grading each five-paragraph essay, 20 minutes, or just not pay attention to time and work on each until it “feels” done?

And the WWC’s few reviews of research on teacher moves aren’t particularly helpful. A 63-page brief on the best teaching techniques identifies precisely two with “strong evidence”: giving lots of quizzes and asking deep questions. An 87-page guide on reducing misbehavior has five areas of general advice that “research supports,” but no concrete moves for teachers to implement. It reads, “[Teachers should] consider parents, school personnel, and behavioral experts as allies who can provide new insights, strategies, and support.” What does not exist are experiments with results like this: “A randomized trial found that a home visit prior to the beginning of a school year, combined with phone calls to parents within 5 hours of an infraction, results in a 15 percent drop in the same misbehavior on the next day.” If that existed, perhaps teachers would be more amenable to proposals like home visits.

By contrast, a fair number of medical journals get delivered to my house. They’re for my wife, an oncologist. They’re practical. In each issue, she learns something along these lines: “When a patient has this type of breast cancer, I currently do X. This study suggests I should do Y.” There is a bit on medical policy, but most of the information is meant for individual doctors in their day-to-day work.

That’s not to say that we shouldn’t conduct research on education policy. My own work has certainly benefited from it. For example, the quasi-experimental study by economists Tom Kane and Josh Angrist on Boston charter schools, which compared the winners and losers of charter admission lotteries, helped change the Massachusetts law that had blocked the creation of new charters. The change enabled me to help launch a new charter school, MATCH Community Day. My point is simply that relative to education policy research, there is very, very little rigorous research on teacher moves. Why? Gates knows it’s more than a lack of raw cash; it’s also about someone taking responsibility for this work. “Who thinks of it [empirical research on teachers] as their business?” he asked. “The 50 states don’t think of it that way, and schools of education are not about [this type of] research.”

I agree, but I contend there are a number of other barriers. The first is a lack of demand.

The Demand Side

Why aren’t teachers clamoring for published research? One reason is that researchers generally examine the wrong dependent variable. Researchers care about next August (when test scores come in, because they can show achievement gains). Teachers care about that, too, but they care more about solving today’s problems (see sidebar, page 26).

A second issue is that researchers don’t worry about teacher time. Education researchers often put forward strategies that make teachers’ lives harder, not easier. Have you ever tried to “differentiate instruction”? When policy experts give a lecture or speak publicly, do they create five different iterations for their varied audience? Probably not.

The return on investment for teacher time and the opportunity cost of spending it one way rather than another is rarely taken into account. In what other, valuable ways could teachers be spending the time taken up with building “differentiation” into a lesson plan? They could phone parents, tutor kids after school, grade papers, or analyze data. Much research implies that teachers should spend more time doing X while not indicating where they should spend less time.

Teachers don’t trust research, and understandably so. There’s a lot of shoddy research that supports fads. Experienced teachers remember that “this year’s method” directly contradicts the approach from three years ago. So they’d rather go it alone. Newer teachers pick up on the skepticism about research from the veterans.

Unlike medical research, teacher research rarely examines possible side effects, and whether they are short-term aggravations or can be expected to persist. Imagine that a teacher reads an article arguing that students benefit from being asked “higher-order questions.” She begins doing that. Some students, surprised at this new rigor, are frustrated. Some students throw up their hands and give up. Misbehavior ensues.

Student frustration is probably a fairly predictable short-term side effect of asking higher-order questions. If she isn’t being properly warned, a teacher might quickly abandon this technique.

For all these reasons, the 3 million teachers aren’t forming picket lines to demand research.

Do We Know What Works?

Neither policy camp, reformers nor traditionalists, care much about research into teacher moves, either. Some traditionalists see teaching as an art, one that cannot be subjugated to quantitative analysis (“every teacher is different”). Others aren’t averse to research; they simply don’t see it as a priority. They’d prefer that limited resources be used to fight poverty, not to improve students’ day-to-day classroom experiences.

Meanwhile, some reformers argue “we already know what works,” and we just need to scale it.

As part of the “reformer” community, I find this troubling. From charter opponents like Diane Ravitch to supporters like education secretary Arne Duncan, there’s agreement that “some charter schools work.” Furthermore, there’s strong evidence that the charters that succeed tend to be “No Excuses” schools. So do we know what works?

I’m the founder of one of those charter schools; our high-school students have the highest value-added gains of all 340 public high schools in Massachusetts. I’m also the founder of a small teacher residency program that supplies teachers to schools like KIPP (Knowledge Is Power Program). Many of us would agree to a very different proposition: We know teacher moves “that work” to some extent, enough to create very large achievement gains, but we don’t know teacher moves well enough to get our college graduation rate near where we’d like it to be. Nor do we know how to help teachers do these moves more efficiently, so that their jobs are sustainable.

Without a massive uptick in our knowledge of teacher moves, we’ll continue on the current reform path. That path is a limited replication of No Excuses schools that rely on a very unusual labor pool (young, often work 60+ hours per week, often from top universities); the creation of many more charters that, on average, aren’t different in performance from district schools; districts adopting “lite” versions of No Excuses models while pruning small numbers of very low performing teachers; and some amount of shift to online learning. Peering into that future, I don’t see how we’ll generate a breakthrough.

Bridging the Divide

The final barrier to research on teacher moves is the divide between practitioners and researchers. My analogy is a 5th-grade dance. Boys stand on one side. Girls stand on the other. There is very little actual dancing. In this case, teachers are off to one side, and quantitatively oriented researchers are on the other.

After a while, the boys go into the hallway and talk about video games. Similarly, quantitative researchers find the transaction costs of setting up experiments are too high and give up on doing research about teacher actions. They take their problem-solving marbles and find other data sets to crunch.

Girls see that the boys aren’t around anymore. So they dance with each other. Teachers and school leaders, if they like to learn, do so through observation of and conversation regarding perceived “best practices.” There aren’t many practitioners who care about rigorous empirical research.

With all these barriers, is there much hope? There’s not going to be a pot of gold in this funding environment. If research on teacher moves matters, we need to be more creative about catalyzing the low-hanging fruit. That would mean identifying practitioners who are unusually interested in randomized research, and connecting them with doctoral students who are unusually interested in teachers and teaching.

What does it look like when practitioners and researchers dance together? Here is one example.

In July 2010, I asked Harvard economist Roland Fryer for some help. My research question was fairly simple: Do teacher phone calls to parents “work”?

In our school, teachers proactively phone parents. Typically, the parents have not been heavily involved in their children’s previous schools. We believe that phone calls to parents help teachers generate improved decorum, effort, and ultimately learning from students. (Sometimes the calls to parents are supplemented with teacher calls to students) These parent relationships seem to be linked to very high parent-satisfaction ratings, and in turn we have thought those were related to our high test-score growth. Truth be told, however, we just don’t know whether this is a productive use of teachers’ time.

Fryer enlisted two doctoral students, Shaun Dougherty and Matt Kraft, from the Quantitative Policy Analysis in Education program at the Harvard Graduate School of Education. These two did an amazing job, operating skillfully within our school to do the randomized study. From their findings:

“On average, teacher-family communication increased homework completion rates by 6 percentage points and decreased instances in which teachers had to redirect students’ attention to the task at hand by 32%.”

This collaboration worked for several reasons. First, we have a teacher residency embedded in our charter school, so I had 24 student teachers who could be fairly easily randomized during the summer school session. Second, a professor I trusted chose the graduate students who would conduct the research. These guys were, in my view, dispassionate. I’ve tried to work before with grad students who have strong preexisting beliefs about what they’ll find (typically with a “progressive” lens), and it was difficult to gain real knowledge. (Researchers often feel the same way about practitioners, that we’re searching for marketing, not truth). Also, Fryer paid them a stipend; in my experience, graduate students working for free, and only for credit of some sort, don’t always follow through.

The cost of the two graduate students was not the only expense. In our experiment, at any given time, there were 16 classrooms in action. The researchers needed to hire 16 observers to carefully code student behavior for a few weeks. The total bill was around $10,000. Kraft and Dougherty found a Harvard grant of $1,000. The rest I needed to pay.

Once we’d designed the experiment, I needed to explain it to my team: the principals of our high school and middle school, and the student teachers who were involved. These are people I know well, and they generally trust me. Still, this buy-in phase required expending both time and “relationship capital,” a resource that gets spent down and must be built back up over time. Using student teachers was also of benefit. It would have been tough to randomize our regular teachers. Their belief in the efficacy of parent communication is so strong I suspect many would have doubted the value of changing their normal routines.

There were other costs to the experiment. The head of our teacher-prep program spent many hours handling the experiment’s complex logistics, including a permission slip for parent consent. He could have spent those hours coaching these student teachers, which is the main task I was paying him to do.

All of these issues reflect transaction costs: finding the right people and then doing the right study well takes time, effort, and money.

Researching Teacher Moves

Think of the Human Genome Project. When the project started, scientists didn’t know how many genes there were; now they believe the number is 20,000 to 25,000.

We don’t know how many teacher moves there are. The number is certainly high but not infinite, maybe 200, 2,000, nobody knows. Presumably, there are some unusually high-yield teacher moves across all contexts, some moves that are high yield but only in specific situations or contexts, and other less powerful moves. There is undoubtedly lots of interaction effect among many moves. Mapping all of this might be called the Teaching Move Genome Project, and at the beginning it would be a scary undertaking.

Absent this work, what do we have? Perceived best practices, often buttressed by observation or nonrandomized studies. In his best-selling book Teach Like a Champion, Doug Lemov describes 49 teaching moves he has observed in the nation’s top charter schools. At the University of Michigan, Deborah Ball and her colleagues are close to unveiling a list of 88 math teacher moves. Lee Canter’s Assertive Discipline and Jon Saphier’s Skillful Teacher discuss scores of moves, like the “10-2” rule (have kids summarize for 2 minutes in small groups after 10 minutes of teacher-led instruction), much of it supported by nonrandomized research. On the basis of its observations of effective teachers, Teach For America (TFA) promotes 6 teacher behaviors and 28 component parts, like “plan purposefully” or “set big goals”; none are specific moves.

What would a series of randomized trials look like? Let’s apply it to Lemov’s 49. Imagine a group of trials that would ask the questions, Do all of the moves work? Are any particularly successful? How does the degree of teacher buy-in interact with effectiveness? What are the “costs” of these moves?

An example from Lemov is “Right Is Right.” The idea is that when a kid gives an answer that is mostly right, the teacher should hold out until it’s 100 percent correct. Lemov describes various tactics the teacher can use to elicit the 100 percent right answer from the student (or first from another student, before having the original student repeat or extend the correct answer).

The obvious cost of implementing this move is time. These back-and-forths add up to lost minutes each period when other topics are not being discussed. A less skillful teacher might be drawn into a protracted discussion, when her next best alternative (simply announce the 100 percent right answer, and move on) might work better. We just don’t know.

Back in 2003, education researchers David Cohen, Stephen Raudenbush, and Deborah Ball argued that “one could make accurate causal inference about instructional effects only by reconceiving and then redesigning instruction as a regime, or system, and comparing it with different systems.” That suggests “a narrower role for survey research than has recently been the case in education, and a larger role for experimental and quasi-experimental research. But if such studies offer a better grip on causality, they are more difficult to design, instrument, and carry out, and more costly.”

Still, we need a better grip on causality. So who would undertake this cost?

A Proposal

Once again borrowing some terminology from medicine, I propose a typology of trials, delineating phases in a continuum.

Phase 1 trials would be small, nongeneralizable empirical studies of teacher moves. These could be randomized, single-subject, or regression discontinuity, but the dependent variable would not be year-end test scores. Instead, we’d look for next-day or next-week outcomes: measurable effects on student behavior, effort, or short-term learning.

Who would decide what moves to test? Some would be proposed by established authors and thinkers in the teaching field. Some would come from the nation’s 3 million schoolteachers, possibly with crowd sourcing to identify the most-promising ideas. Some would come from academic researchers, particularly those from other fields, like psychology, who may offer unusual insights. But for the next level, testing competing ideas, I’d suggest we draw heavily on teacher opinion, particularly a group of teachers selected for their stated willingness to try new methods (if they are supported by research).

Phase 2 trials would test promising teacher practice from Phase 1 on a larger, more varied teacher pool to see if the next-day outcomes held up, probably across different types of schools. Again, the dependent variable is short-term student response.

Phase 3 trials would be randomized trials in which teachers combine multiple moves that emerge from Phase 2. In the end, our bottom line is student learning, and Phase 3 trials are combinations of moves that are measured to see if they bolster year-end student learning gains.

Medical researchers have found that treating some illnesses requires a drug “cocktail,” that is, no one medicine by itself works as well as the combination of several. The same approach might work in education: it could be that individual teacher moves by themselves cannot create measurable year-end achievement gains in students, but combining many together can.

My proposal is that each of the nation’s 1,200-plus schools of education and teacher prep programs conduct one randomized trial on a teacher move each year: Phase 1, Phase 2, or Phase 3. They’d do that by recruiting alumni into a network of experienced teachers willing to participate. The advantage is that once you pay the one-time transaction costs of finding these teachers, the ongoing expenditures related to persuading them to participate, and securing permission from families and principals, decline.

Once that network existed, it would function like a laboratory. Various Phase 1 experiments could be run through it, with small numbers of teachers at first, so that many experiments could be run concurrently. Larger numbers of teachers would be included in more promising Phase 2 validation experiments. Of course, there would be selection bias in terms of which teachers are willing to be participate in this sort of work, and other imperfections. But in the end, experiments could build on proven results from previous ones. Multiple ed schools would combine their networks for Phase 3 trials.

By itself, no single experiment would be that important. Instead, it would be like cancer research: thousands of people each trying to answer small questions in a very rigorous way…which would add up to promising treatments.

The goal is an affordable system for conducting teacher research that teachers would actually consume, that would address both the implementation challenges and the high transaction costs for researchers and practitioners in creating such research. Until that exists, I’ll see you at the 5th-grade dance.

Michael Goldstein is the founder of MATCH Charter School and MATCH Teacher Residency, in Boston.

But the state shouldn’t be shocked by the report. As the truism goes, you get what you pay for.

Colorado’s policy environment incentivizes exactly what it’s getting from its full-time virtual schools—and arguably not just its virtual schools, but all of its schools statewide.

The biggest problem is this: It pays a school all of its funds on a “count day” on October 1 based on the number of students enrolled on that day. If students leave afterward, the original school keeps the funds. If students enroll elsewhere, the new school receives no funds.

This incentivizes providers to enroll students, but there are few incentives in place to focus on what happens after that. As a result, a significant number of online providers seem to have followed these incentives and done exactly what Colorado paid them to do. The end result isn’t pretty for students, as a great number of them allegedly leave soon after the count day and enroll back in district schools if they enroll elsewhere at all.

Some are using this to bash all online learning, as well as for-profit providers that are seizing this revenue-making opportunity (as many such providers did in higher education), but in so doing, these critics are missing the point.

As I’ve written numerous times, studying whether online learning is more or less effective than traditional learning is invariably asking the wrong question. Online and blended learning have the potential to dramatically transform our education system by being able to individualize for each student’s distinct learning needs (just look at the results from Carpe Diem, KIPP Empower, or Rocketship Education), but whether it does so will have a lot to do with policy—whether we change the incentives and focus not on merely serving students and micro-managing the inputs, but instead focusing on the student outcomes and leaving behind an antiquated factory-model system for a student-centric one. Ultimately we want a system that can deliver the right learning experience for each individual student when he or she needs it—whether that be an online or offline activity.

And just because many studies show that on average online and blended learning work better than does face-to-face learning, this does not mean that just because a program is online that it will be good. There will be both good and bad online programs, just as there will be good and bad face-to-face ones. Good programs, however, that do customize for these different learning needs and lead to increased student engagement and time on task, should be easier to scale in a digital world as opposed to an analog one.

Similarly, an oft-leveled charge at for-profits in education is that they only care about their shareholders, not about their customers. This is absurd. The way companies create shareholder value is by serving their customers. The problem here is that what the customer—the state of Colorado—is incentivizing is blatantly misaligned with what its students need.

As I wrote in a paper for the American Enterprise Institute titled “Beyond Good and Evil: Understanding the Role of For-Profits in Education Through the Theories of Disruptive Innovation,” for-profit companies are not inherently good or evil. Rather, successful companies do what their customers offer incentives to do—not much more or less. To say that for-profits are evil or poor quality misses the point because quality is defined by what a customer will pay someone to do. Blaming for-profits for doing what we have asked and paid them to do from the outset makes little sense.

What’s interesting in this particular case, however, is that a successful for-profit, K12, Inc., does apparently defy its incentives to some extent. According to Jeff Kwitowski, K12’s VP of Public Affairs, “K12 invoices the school for student-related expenses based on the number of students who are enrolled each month, not based on the October 1st enrollment count” despite the policy in place.

That’s good and smart of K12 to observe the spirit of the law, not just the letter. But policymakers must do better and create a system that does not rely on heroes and anomalies.

Given that, as I also wrote in the AEI piece, for-profits scale faster on average than do non-profits, they tend to be aggressive in seizing these policy opportunities, so policymakers need to fix bad policies quickly before an industry coalesces around a faulty value proposition and stands in the way of changing those policies with lots of money to back it up (as has happened with the players—mostly non-profit and government-run—that make up the country’s current factory-model education system).

There is a second problem with Colorado’s policy environment as well, which creates problems for truly judging how online learning programs are performing and could create incentives to avoid serving the hardest-to-serve and most vulnerable students. This one lies in the way our education system—across the nation—calculates graduation rates.

Although I’m still working out my thoughts on this, here’s the dilemma. The common graduation rate formula that has just recently been adopted across the country calculates a state’s graduation rate based, in essence, on the percentage of an entering freshman class that finishes high school with a regular diploma four years later. This may make sense as a way to judge a state (although there may be legitimate questions if it makes sense when moving to a competency-based learning system and away from one based on time), but it creates some problems for judging schools to where students are transferring in the midst of their high school experience.

The reason is this: Picture a school—like many of the online schools in Colorado—that enrolls a student in the fall who is classified as, say, a junior, based on his age. The graduation rate calculation says he should graduate in two springs from now; if he doesn’t, the school’s graduation rate falls. But say that student is many credits behind—let’s pretend for simplicity’s sake a year behind—and not on track to graduate “on time.” If the school manages to accelerate the student and the student graduates only a few months late—the summer after and not an entire year behind—shouldn’t that school get credit for accelerating the student? With today’s measurement systems, it is penalized.

The reverse scenario also exists today, as we give credit to schools that may have merely enrolled advanced students.

This doesn’t make sense. When a student transfers schools, he ought to be recognized based on the credits he brings and where he truly is academically, not based on his age—and the success of the school calculated accordingly.

This points to a desperate need to move toward a competency-based learning system that measures and rewards individual student growth, as well as an underlying shared learning infrastructure that allows the country to identify each unique student in a consistent way—so that when he or she moves geographies, the student’s record does as well—and to keep track of what that student knows and can do in a consistent way across geographies. Even moving past the question of calculating accurate graduation rates, unless this occurs, it remains challenging to figure out whether a school is helping a child academically with just a snapshot view.

Until we fix these problems, we shouldn’t be surprised at stories like the one unfolding in Colorado.

The biggest shame in all of this? By focusing on the wrong part of the story, it may set back our opportunity to leverage the rise of digital learning to transform our system into the student-centric one that each student deserves.

On student/teacher engagement:

The part that is often missed when discussing these concepts is that it’s a strategy for learning that humanizes the classroom. Building and growing teacher-student relationships is essential to improving student learning outcomes. When a teacher has the opportunity to speak to each student and assess their progress every day, students feel that learning matters. They feel challenged and supported. Again, it’s not about the technology or the devices, it about shifting our pedagogy to put each student first.

I use this tool for all the reasons stated and more, particularly the opportunity to spend more class time addressing the higher order thinking skills. Could it be that this is the point that critics are missing? The term ‘ flipped classroom’ places too much emphasis on a tool used by students to prepare for class and clouds the fact that teachers are developing fuller, richer learning cycles with their new time. Let’s call it the ‘flip-tool’ and start to write more about the consequences that is the rich learning cycles we have been able to develop for our classrooms.

On technology and ensuring equal access:

I have vids on flash drives and DVDs for kids w/ no internet access/digital tools.

[Teachers] don’t need the internet to do this! They can create videos, and save them on students’ machines quickly and easily. That way students just watch them from the computer without having to worry about connecting to the internet. We’ve also been able to repurpose old laptops for just this use. Since all the computers need to do is play a few videos, old laptops are perfect for this task.

On managing time and motivating students to do at-home activities:

The flipped class allows for learners to customize when and where they learn. I have plenty that spend class time learning and practicing, and at home, they don’t worry about chemistry. There is no such thing as “homework” anymore. If they work, they can use class time to front-load and account for their work life. We went through how to budget time and use the resources so they don’t overwhelm themselves through the year…. Most of what my kids (and many flipped kids) do is use the videos as A) remediation if they need it, or B) pre-learning for use in class the next day. The videos I put out are less than 10-minutes in length, so the time at home is considerably LESS than a “normal” homework assignment. Plus, they aren’t sitting at home struggling with a worksheet or book assignment, so their mental stress is also alleviated to a degree with a flip.

one of the most surprising things I learned when a colleague and I went to using videos to deliver most of the “content” of our class was that when forced to boil down the content to the most important concepts in order to create the videos, we ended up with a total of 8 videos of about 10-15 minutes each for our 10 week course in microbiology. In the past, we wold have spent FAR more time delivering the same content in class. Now, class time is spent exploring the content in context, the students are in the lab more often and the class time is a far more collaborative endeavor for the students. We have been able to do more higher-order thinking projects with the “found” time. Also, the students really like being able to control the pace of the delivery of the content in the videos. We provide them with sheets to take notes on while watching the videos so it is not simply a passive activity. Flipping has definitely resulted in more engaging and enjoyable class time for the students and the teachers.

Finally, as chemistry teacher Aaron Sams explains, it’s important to emphasize that there’s no single model, with most teachers figuring this out, adapting, and improving their practice as they go.

It is becoming increasingly obvious that digital learning systems can be tailored to the specific interests, learning styles, and levels of accomplishment of each student.  As digital curricular materials employ ever-more-sophisticated technologies—3-dimensional videos, game playing, interactive exercises, real-time provision of information on student performance to teachers and students alike, and more—they will be seen as essential 21^st century learning tools.

But we can expect a strenuous, highly politicized debate over the way in which digital learning should be provided.  On the one side will be those who propose that most digital learning in K-12 public education be of the “blended” variety, that is, take place within public school classrooms under the tutelage of a highly qualified teacher.

On the other side, “online” proponents will argue that blended learning alone is not enough.  American education can be transformed only if the power to drive change is placed in the hands of students, who are offered a choice of providers that include not only the blended classroom but also those who offer products  exclusively online, supplementing asymmetric video presentations of online materials with interactive systems that employ such tools as Skype, interactive games, social networking, email communications and phone conversations.

All of this became clear at the conference sponsored in San Francisco last week by the Foundation on Excellence in Education, the nonprofit headed by former Florida Governor Jeb Bush, who is promoting a strikingly innovative, bipartisan reform agenda that combines the Common Core standards promoted by the Gates Foundation and the Obama Administration with the accountability and choice principles to which he was committed during his eight years as Florida’s governor.

It is digital learning that holds together and gives spark to Bush’s agenda.  Common standards provide a nationwide platform upon which next generation curricular materials can be built; choice allows students to pick the courses most suited to their needs, abilities, and interests; and accountability ensures that learning is genuine.

Bush put on an impressive show.  His self-deprecating wit, extraordinary command of the subject, and undeniable passion generated a level of enthusiasm seldom found outside the confines of a well-orchestrated campaign event. When the former governor interviewed Melinda Gates about her support for Common Core standards, she relaxed noticeably, revealing a personal warmth and depth of knowledge less well displayed in her formal presentation.

But the true star of the show was Sal Khan, a former venture capitalist turned curriculum specialist, who has become a rock star of digital education. Unlike some other proponents of digital learning promoting their wares at the conference, Kahn taught his audience by both precept and example.  Not only did he advocate next-generation learning, but, in so doing, he blended a sweater-casual speaking style with a smoothly offered, high-tech digital presentation that was little less than astounding.  When he finished, only the most hard-nosed of skeptics walked away unconvinced that Khan had invented the one-and-only way to teach math to young people.

For Khan, next-generation learning combines simple, short, witty videos with problem sets that must be mastered before one moves to the next stage of instruction.  To motivate students, he uses, surprisingly, nothing more than badges and other phony rewards reminiscent of the stars that old-fashioned elementary school teachers used to post next to the names of high achievers.  Real-time data on success and failure is provided simultaneously to teachers, students, parents and anyone else authorized to access that information. You can learn all about the Khan method by looking at his videos on YouTube.

Yet Khan leaves the debate over blended versus online learning wide open.  On one side, the power of online learning is demonstrated by videos that are being viewed by Khan’s distant cousins as well as by the next generation of the Melinda and Bill Gates family, a saxophone player who is self-educating himself into an electrical engineer, and millions of young people in developing countries across the globe.

But the “blenders” will undoubtedly point to certain in-classroom keys to his accomplishments in the public schools of Los Altos, California.  There, student success at problem-solving is monitored in real time by teachers, serving as coaches, who intervene when videos are not enough. For blenders, the keys to the intervention’s apparent success include the use of real-time performance information by qualified teachers, not just the videos and problem sets.

Apparent success, it must be said, because the impact of neither the blended nor the online version of the Khan intervention has yet to be documented by a randomized trial.  Still, Los Altos school authorities are impressed enough to allow Khan Academy to expand from just a couple of demonstration classrooms to middle schools throughout the district.  And other charter and district schools are climbing on board this fast-moving train.

But the debate between blended and online learning will continue.  Too much politically is at stake for it to be otherwise.  It is not yet clear that blended learning a la Khan Academy will be any more efficient than the current bloated system of public education.  At a time of extreme fiscal exigency, legislators will look for ways in which technology can save money, not for new ways to add costs.

Meanwhile, school districts and teacher unions can be expected to fight publicly funded online learning that offers students a choice of taking courses outside their local district school.  If online learning should prove to be more effective than the learning that takes place within classrooms, it would provide a serious challenge to the school district-teacher union duopoly that blended learning does not.

-Paul E. Peterson

Is there a bolder alternative that might actually induce our nation to achieve widespread learning excellence?

Here’s a simple idea: put excellent teachers, the top 20 to 25 percent who achieve well over today’s “year of learning progress,” in charge of every child’s learning—consistently. Even with solid teachers who achieve a full year of progress, students who enter school behind stay behind, and those in the middle do not leap ahead. Moreover, the current teacher pool feeds the anemic principal pipeline, meaning excellent teachers are often pulled from instruction—or forced to work under inadequate leaders.

In our recent report, Seizing Opportunity at the Top, we suggest three major ways to generate the significant will needed to put excellent teachers in charge of every child’s learning. We must, at the federal or state level:

• Limit who can teach to top high school graduates, with further screening for behavioral competencies of excellent teachers;
• Offer large financial incentives from regular funding streams, for districts, schools, and teachers when they produce high-growth learning, up to and far beyond standards; and/or
• Create a new civil right to excellent teachers, one that parents and students can enforce legally when a child is behind standards, not making a full year of progress annually, or has not had an excellent teacher in a subject for two years running.

The only way to implement any of these reforms successfully, within budget and at scale, is to help excellent teachers increase their productivity: swap portions of excellent teachers’ time with digital instruction so they can teach more classes with similar or even smaller group sizes; let them delegate nonessential tasks to other adults; use digital tools to save time on instructional monitoring and planning; put them in charge of other teachers; and let the willing have more students to nurture under their strong wings. Find more discussion of these options in Opportunity at the Top and 3X for All. This is not new: Other excellent professionals, whose jobs and pay aren’t frozen into molds, started making these changes for themselves a half-century ago, developing differentiated teams and using technology to save time and eliminate error from routine work, leaving the best free to do the most complex tasks.

Public Impact, with help from teachers and others, will soon begin releasing designs that clarify how to make these changes in schools, within budget, and pay excellent teachers more for the additional children they reach. “How to” models will help, but without major policy changes to induce the will, all evidence is that schools simply won’t budge—not even the ones that already can (e.g., charter schools).

ESEA could help. At a minimum, it could:

• Require states to identify excellent teachers immediately (even if full-blown evaluation systems take longer to develop);
• Require reporting of the percentage of students reached by teachers at each effectiveness level, not just the percentage of teachers at different effectiveness levels—rewarding places that put excellent teachers in charge of more students, directly or through managed teams; and
• Make federal funding contingent on clearing barriers that keep excellent teachers from reaching more students, such as limits on their pay, class sizes, and non-teaching staff who could monitor digital instruction.

Seizing Opportunity at the Top lists the basic policies that states must change. Absent will-inducing provisions, though, even ESEA and basic state policy changes combined will be inadequate.

Policy and political leaders at all levels: We must stop haggling over how to pack our saddlebags while other nations board helicopters. Our nation needs us to step up. We need major action to induce the will to put excellent teachers in charge of every child’s learning.

- Emily Ayscue Hassel and Bryan C. Hassel, Public Impact

In the tiny Florence School District outside Pueblo, Johnson was one of 39 students who left Florence High School last year to sign up for online classes with GOAL Academy, one of the largest online schools in Colorado…

Johnson said she signed up for GOAL in July after her former science teacher promised free college classes. But she was back at Florence High School by January with no credits earned.

“I feel like I wasted an entire semester of my life,” said Johnson, now working overtime to boost her grades in hopes the gap in her transcript will be less noticeable to colleges.

So, a trusted former teacher, perhaps at a free BBQ in a local park, told Johnson about a wonderful new way to learn. Good for GOAL, which got a year’s worth of funding. And bummer for Florence High, which lost Johnson’s state dollars.

But the real risk — and real consequences — were borne by Johnson. It may be true that Johnson made a poor decision when she decided to enroll in GOAL in the first place. But, a system that offers little guidance and no safety nets for ill-informed high school students making big educational decisions is almost certain to produce many more stories of seventeen year-olds wasting a semester of school at the worst possible time. If we are going to offer students new options — and we should — policymakers must first do whatever they can to mitigate the risks borne by students.

Wrestling with the Mobility Issue

Data from both Ohio and Colorado show exceptional levels of mobility among full-time online students. In Ohio, state data show that about a third of students were enrolled for less than a year. Ed News Colorado found that of 10,500 students in the largest online programs in fall 2008, more than half – or 5,600 – left their virtual schools by the fall of 2009.

Representatives of online schools claim that this mobility is not necessarily a bug, but a feature. And, they’re not entirely wrong:

Reasons for the turnover include working with an at-risk student population that sees online learning as their last resort, students who use online as a brief experimentation with a new learning process, and parents not being able to stay home to oversee their children’s studies, said Heather O’Mara, executive director of Hope Online, one of the state’s largest online programs.

“We are all so different, we are serving different audiences and students are enrolling for very different reasons,” O’Mara said. “At Hope, we particularly target kids who are at risk, who have not been academically successful, not only at their previous school, probably several schools before that.”

But it’s also likely that high mobility is a sign of dissatisfaction or misaligned expectations about what online learning would really entail. And, since we don’t accept “we serve difficult students” as a blanket excuse when evaluating traditional school districts, we shouldn’t accept it for online schools either.

Most importantly, we need to align the incentives so that schools are compelled to share the risk with students — even if it slows growth. Here, Branson Online High offers a hopeful example, as its recent focus on ensuring families understood the online program before enrolling appears to be leading to more successful outcomes.

These are sticky, complex issues. The National Association of Charter School Authorizers, in its recent brief on virtual charter schools, acknowledges that high mobility impacts instruction and makes it challenging to evaluate virtual school performance, but offers no prescriptions.

I’ll offer up my ideas over the next few days. But it’s time to stop ducking this issue. I hope providers, advocates, and accountability hawks will respond with ideas of their own.

-Bill Tucker

It’s called “the flipped classroom.” While there is no one model, the core idea is to flip the common instructional approach: With teacher-created videos and interactive lessons, instruction that used to occur in class is now accessed at home, in advance of class. Class becomes the place to work through problems, advance concepts, and engage in collaborative learning. Most importantly, all aspects of instruction can be rethought to best maximize the scarcest learning resource—time.

Flipped classroom teachers almost universally agree that it’s not the instructional videos on their own, but how they are integrated into an overall approach, that makes the difference. In his classes, Bergmann says, students can’t just “watch the video and be done with it.” He checks their notes and requires each student to come to class with a question. And, while he says it takes a little while for students to get used to the system, as the year progresses he sees them asking better questions and thinking more deeply about the content. After flipping his classroom, Bergmann says he can more easily query individual students, probe for misconceptions around scientific concepts, and clear up incorrect notions.

Counterintuitively, Bergmann says the most important benefits of the video lessons are profoundly human: “I now have time to work individually with students. I talk to every student in every classroom every day.” Traditional classroom interactions are also flipped. Typically, the most outgoing and engaged students ask questions, while struggling students may act out. Bergmann notes that he now spends more time with struggling students, who no longer give up on homework, but work through challenging problems in class. Advanced students have more freedom to learn independently. And, while high-school students still occasionally lapse on homework assignments, Bergmann credits the new arrangement with fostering better relationships, greater student engagement, and higher levels of motivation.

Once Bergmann’s and Sams’s lessons were posted online, it wasn’t long before other students and teachers across the country were using the lessons, and making their own. Across the country in Washington, D.C., Andrea Smith, a 6th-grade math teacher at E. L. Haynes, a high-performing public charter school, shares Bergmann’s enthusiasm, but focuses on a different aspect of the flipped classroom. Smith, who has taught for more than a decade in both D.C.’s public charter and traditional district schools, immediately saw the benefit for students, but says she was most captivated by the opportunity to elevate teaching practice and the profession as a whole. As Smith explains, crafting a great four- to six-minute video lesson poses a tremendous instructional challenge: how to explain a concept in a clear, concise, bite-sized chunk. Creating her own videos forces her to pay attention to the details and nuances of instruction—the pace, the examples used, the visual representation, and the development of aligned assessment practices. In a video lesson on dividing fractions, for example, Smith is careful not to just teach the procedure—multiply by the inverse—but also to represent the important underlying conceptual ideas. Like Bergmann, she makes it clear that the videos are just one component of instruction. She’s keen on the equivalent of a motion picture’s “director’s cut,” where a video creator might explain the reasoning behind the examples chosen and how she would extend those activities into class time.

“Flipping” is rapidly moving into the mainstream. Bergmann and Sams have completed a book, are in high demand across the country at educator conferences, and even host their own “Flipped Class Conference” to train teachers. The chief academic officer at Smith’s school, Eric Westendorf, is taking the tools he has piloted at the school and building them into a platform for teachers everywhere to create and share videos. Most notable, though, is the emergence of the Khan Academy, an online repository of thousands of instructional videos that has been touted by Bill Gates and featured prominently in the national media.

Given education’s long history of fascination with new instructional approaches that are later abandoned, there’s a real danger that flipping, a seemingly simple idea that is profound in practice, may be reduced into the latest educational fad. And, in today’s highly polarized political environment, it also runs the risk of being falsely pigeonholed into one of education’s many false dichotomies, such as the age-old pedagogical debate between content knowledge and skills acquisition.

But the ideas behind flipping are not brand new. For over a decade, led by the National Center for Academic Transformation (NCAT), dozens of colleges have successfully experimented with similar ideas across math, science, English, and many other disciplines. NCAT’s increasingly impressive body of practice shows that thoughtful course redesigns lead to improved learning. Carol Twigg, NCAT’s president and CEO, says there is no magic: course redesign is “a hard job.” She’s not assuming students love homework. But redesign offers an opportunity to reengage students and improve their motivation, while setting proper expectations and monitoring to “push school to the top of the list.” And while many course redesigns focus on incorporating more project-based learning opportunities, Twigg’s experience leads her to quickly dismiss pedagogical extremes: “If you don’t have basic math skills, you can’t do an interesting physics project.”

There is also some danger that the flipped classroom could be seen as another front in a false battle between teachers and technology. Yet Bergmann and Sams emphasize that the “only magic bullet is the recruiting, training, and supporting of quality teachers.” And while Khan Academy’s prominence engenders fear of standardization and deprofessionalization among some critics, Bergmann, Sams, and Smith see instructional videos as powerful tools for teachers to create content, share resources, and improve practice. Smith admits that if such tools were available when she first started out, she “would have run to this every week when planning.”

It seems almost certain that instructional videos, interactive simulations, and yet-to-be-dreamed-up online tools will continue to multiply. But who will control these tools and whether they will fulfill their potential remains to be seen. As Scott McLeod, one of the nation’s leading thinkers on educational technology and the director of the UCEA Center for the Advanced Study of Technology Leadership in Education, observes, the “reason Sal Khan is so visible right now is that nobody did this instead. It would have been great if the National Council of Teachers of Mathematics had been doing this, but someone from the outside had to fill the vacuum.” His guidance to educators: “Start making!”

Bill Tucker is managing director of Education Sector.

My classmates complained that her class was too hard.

One of my other instructors spent class sessions badly summarizing the readings, instigating awkward and often one-sided class discussions, or trying to explain the homework assignments and projects she thought up. When she assigned one of her own articles for us to read, it became clear that despite having completed a doctorate at our university, she could not write a coherent academic article.

Desperate for a more challenging academic experience, I increased my course load for the second semester and handpicked my instructors. I actually enjoyed most of my classes that semester, but it was at this point that I began to deeply question the university’s approach to preparing future teachers.

It baffled me, for example, that I could get a master’s degree in teaching English to speakers of other languages (TESOL) after having completed only one rudimentary course in linguistics and one in English grammar. Almost all of my classmates struggled greatly in these two courses, leading me to wonder whether perhaps the admission requirements might also need refining. A class in adolescent development was useful, but the program offered no course in child development, despite the fact that my certification would be for grades K–12. It seemed that they were skimming over the important topics while bogging me down with courses in “theory and practice,” which did little to make me feel prepared to begin teaching on my own.

The focus of the third and fourth semesters was student teaching. My first placement was in high-school foreign language, for which I was also receiving certification. I was fortunate to work with a relatively strong supervising teacher; the infuriating aspect of this first placement was how I was evaluated. A supervisor from the university observed me during three lessons over the course of the semester. After each observation, she completed a write-up and made a few minimally helpful suggestions. During the final observation, she leaned over to my supervising teacher and casually asked, “So, what grade would you give her?” No criteria for evaluation, no request for a report on what I needed to work on. Fortunately, I did receive some valuable feedback from my supervising teacher that semester; I cannot say the same about my English as a Second Language student-teaching placement the following semester.

The final task I was asked to complete for the program was an “individualized project,” which sounded to me like a dumbed-down version of a thesis or capstone project. I have to confess that I took the easy way out. I knew I wasn’t going to get the kind of academic support I would need to complete an actual thesis, so I settled for designing a unit based on what I was already working on with my ESL students. After meeting with the professor a few times and receiving some vague suggestions, I handed in a project that earned me the last of a full transcript of easy As, with a friendly note on the cover and not a single comment or suggestion for how the unit could have been improved.

After observing and teaching in a variety of classroom settings over the course of my graduate studies, I have concluded that good teaching depends on three things: mastery of the subject, a keen understanding of how children learn, and an ability to maintain a disciplined yet positive learning environment. It is hard for me to express how disheartening it is to have spent two years and more than $80,000 in student loans on a program that did justice to none of those objectives.

The author earned a masters degree in education at a private university in the Northeast. Julia Harvey is a pseudonym.

And not just in the obvious ways. Yes, directly through digital instruction. But also by freeing excellent teachers to reach more students in-person.

Today, only about 25 percent of U.S. classrooms have teachers whose students learn enough to close achievement gaps in a few years and make further progress like the world’s top students. Another 25 percent have lagging teachers whose students end up further behind.  The rest have solid teachers – students on track stay on track, but students starting behind stay behind, and few get ahead. Overall, U.S. students end up pretty much where they started out in life, the antithesis of the American dream.

How could digital learning change this picture? One way is by helping solid teachers become more effective. As Michael notes, digital tools can free these teachers’ time to give students more personal attention and develop higher-order capabilities. Digital technology can also help diagnose students’ learning needs and suggest responsive instruction, thereby mimicking the differentiation that only excellent teachers deliver today.

A second way digital learning can improve outcomes is by helping top-25% teachers reach the majority of students. Sound far-fetched? As we asserted in our 2009 report 3X for All, not really. Consider three ways digital technology could give dramatically more students access to the best teachers:

• Time-technology swaps: If students spend part of the school day learning digitally—monitored by support staff or volunteers—that frees the in-person excellent teachers’ time. They can use that surplus to reach more students—in some cases up to 3 or 4 times as many students if they also specialize in what they teach best. (More below about why time with excellent teachers will still be the great differentiator of student outcomes in the future.)
• Remote instruction: For schools with severely limited numbers of excellent teachers, like many rural and urban areas, bringing in great, live (though not in-person) teachers through videoconferencing, holographic technology, or other means could give students access to great interactive instruction they’d otherwise miss.
• Boundless instruction: As Sal Khan has made famous, superb conveyers of content can also capture their performances on video and make them available not just to dozens, but to millions of students. Smart software that responds to each child’s learning level is another example. Combining these with time-technology swaps could enable far more students to have the best of both worlds – great basic content and motivating, live teachers who take learning to the next level.

Together, strategies like these should make it possible for the top 25 percent of teachers to reach far more than 25 percent of students. Schools should be able to pay top-tier teachers more out of regular per-pupil funds for the additional children they teach, which should make it easier to attract and retain excellent teachers. We’d be much closer to making teaching an “Opportunity Culture” like other professions, with multiple ways of advancing over a career.

Why is leveraging excellent teachers so important?  As digital tools proliferate and improve, solid instruction in the basics will eventually become “flat”—available anywhere globally. Three big factors will increasingly differentiate student outcomes: (1) development of students’ self-motivation (2) effectiveness addressing learning barriers, like time-management, emotional disruptions, and social pressures that  affect learning even among advantaged children; and (3) students’ higher-order capabilities like analytical, conceptual and creative thinking, especially as applied to solve real problems.

In the digital future, teacher effectiveness may matter even more than it does today, as these highly complex instructional tasks are left to the adults responsible for each student’s learning.  A large field of industrial psychology indicates enormous performance differences even in simple jobs, but especially in complex jobs like this. Teachers who nurture motivated, tenacious problem solvers while using new technologies to reach more children can become the fuel of local, state, and national economies.

– Bryan Hassel and Emily Ayscue Hassel

The article, “In Classroom of Future, Stagnant Scores,” indeed shows that bolting technology solutions on today’s existing education system is a bad strategy for improving student learning. As my coauthors and I wrote in Disrupting Class, this has been true for some time. The United States has wasted well over $60 billion “cramming” technology in schools in this way to little effect over the past couple decades—and predictably so, according to our research. That some schools continue to do this is unfortunate—particularly in tough budget times—and is worth reporting.

But to generalize beyond this case study that all technology in education is not worth the investment makes no sense and asks the wrong question, as Jonathan Schorr argues persuasively. As Tom Vander Ark points out, this storyline is both an old and outdated one.

Simply put, people should not take from this article that technology will not be a significant part of the answer for the struggles of the country’s education system. It will likely be the very platform for it.

Technology has the potential to transform the education system—not by using technology for technology’s sake through PowerPoint or multimedia at the expense of math and reading or something like that—but instead as a vehicle to individualize learning for students working to master such things as math and reading, thereby creating a student-centric system as opposed to today’s lockstep and monolithic one.

According to the article (and with a full caveat that the article of course may not capture the true intent of the school officials profiled), a goal here was to create a computer-centric classroom. If this is true, it dramatically misses the point. As others have noted, a critical problem with the notion of creating the “classroom of the future” is just that phrase—“the classroom of the future”—for the ways in which that language locks in our imagination around the current paradigm of schooling and even sometimes implies that creating this should be the goal in and of itself.

Instead we need to be doing what an increasing number of schools like another Arizona-based school, the Carpe Diem Collegiate High School and Middle School, are doing and disrupting that flawed paradigm by implementing online learning to create a student-centric system—not to increase costs for the community through bond measures or otherwise, as the article reports—but to use existing resources to prioritize student learning and achieve great results.

Those cited in the article who criticize those in favor of upgrading technology first and asking questions later about how it will impact student achievement are exactly right, as Bror Saxberg—one of the leading thinkers in understanding how to use technology to bolster learning—argues here.

Nor does this rule only apply to technology. Spending on virtually any K-12 educational initiative without having increased student learning as the ultimate priority makes no sense.

-Michael B. Horn

Here’s the deal. Education Week‘s Nirvi Shah yesterday reported that, “Districts that want to reduce special education spending from one year to the next without restoring what was cut now have the blessing of the U.S. Department of Education.” In June, Melody Musgrove, ED’s director of the office of special education programs, sent a letter to the National Association of State Directors of Special Education declaring that a school district “is not obligated to expend at least the amount expended in the last fiscal year for which it met the maintenance-of-effort requirement.” This is a healthy and important development. (And kudos to Shah for the coverage–I, for one, had totally missed this).

You see, federal law has long been taken to mean that special ed spending cannot be adjusted downward except in tightly constrained circumstances (such as when an especially costly student leaves a district). Shah noted that, “Cutting the special education budget for other reasons meant a district was running the risk of losing its share of federal funds.”

Yep, you read that right. A district which provides special education services more cost-effectively has long been threatened with losing their federal aid unless they keep on spending at the same rate. In other words, special ed policy has made it essentially illegal to improve special ed productivity. This is problematic on principle, but especially at a time when districts are being asked to make tough choices about services for all other students. Of course, the special education advocates are never called out on the troubling implications of the push to protect children with special needs no matter the cost–and folks of all stripes are terrified to ever label such sympathetic efforts as “selfish.” But systematically privileging kids in special ed necessarily requires giving short shrift to all other students.

If districts reduce their special education spending, ED says it’s now permissible to at least consider leaving it at the new level. This makes good sense. Shah quotes AASA legislative specialist Sasha Pudelski offering probably the most sensible take on the issue. Pudelski said, “School administrators have been forced to cut to the bone when it comes to general education costs, but current IDEA [maintenance-of-effort] requirements prohibit them from making the same difficult cuts to special education. Our members think this is inherently unfair…Fairness dictates that all programs and populations share in the burden of cuts, rather than holding a single program exempt.”

Predictably, the special education lobby has denounced the shift. Kathleen Boundy, co-director of the Center for Law and Education, has sent ED a letter demanding that the guidance be rescinded and arguing that districts should be required to “to maintain the level of special education expenditures from year to year based on a notion that costs rarely decrease.”

Monday, ED officials sensibly responded to such complaints by noting that IDEA’s strictures will keep districts from misbehaving. Good for ED. This was a smart, sensible call–even if it’s likely to generate more than a little undeserved grief.

- Frederick Hess

(This post also appeared on Rick Hess Straight Up.)

The American Public School Teacher is not for the faint of heart.  Rather, it is a comprehensive report on the state of the teaching profession in the United States based on a 5-year study by the National Education Association.  It is steeped in useful data, rational commentary and thoughtful analysis.  Of course, like John Merrow, I found some of the reportage more illuminating than others.  But the authors included in this compendium are all distinguished in their fields, and not one can be dismissed as an educational lightweight.  As an historian, I was particularly pleased to see how the editor saw fit to include an historical review of the period since the 1950s, mentioning, among other things, Arthur Bestor’s great book, Educational Wastelands: The Retreat from Learning in Our Public Schools, the influence of Sputnik, and (a little later) the Great Society legislation, to underscore the national commitment to education for everyone.

What the book does not do, however, is to introduce many new approaches to the challenges the profession faces.  Of course, as with so many other arenas, America finds itself hard put to keep up with some other countries’ success at significantly raising the levels of academic achievement on the part of the high school graduate.  Indeed, the high school graduation rate, we are reminded, remains stuck at about 75%.  Despite the influence of the unions (the NEA should be commended for the thoroughness of the research on which the book is based), teacher remuneration continues to lag behind other more prestigious professions.  While student-teacher ratios are strikingly reduced from past years, the hoped-for improvement in academic achievement associated with more intimate circumstances has not occurred.  The majority of teachers are still given to teaching behind closed doors. Only the few dare to work cooperatively with their peers on any kind of systematic basis. The unintended consequences associated with No Child Left Behind may be ameliorated in the near future, but rational student and teacher evaluation appear to be as elusive as ever.  The standards movement, which appeared to be so promising in its inception in the 1980s, seems to have lost its impetus, resulting in too much attention to English, mathematics and science, and too little to the other subjects in the basic curriculum, a point stressed by two prominent education theorists, Diane Ravitch and Linda Darling-Hammond.  Finally, the concern about outcomes translates into a surfeit of standardized tests, many of which are rather remotely connected with what has been taught.

All these issues and many others are reviewed in the book, which makes the volume an extremely valuable primer when it comes to discussing the status quo.  However, in terms of the future, perhaps inevitably notions are more speculative.  True, the book heralds the recent alliance between NCATE and TEAC.  True, it suggests that there is a growing consensus in the field at large about the need for a radical reappraisal of what should constitute teacher education and teach licensing, Katherine Neville’s comments notwithstanding.  True, it argues that more and more teachers are losing their technophobia.

All in all, this book should serve as a splendid resource for the foreseeable future.  There is little of consequence that is not reviewed.  In other words, this is not bedtime reading.  It is a serious book of reference dealing with an extraordinarily important aspect of school reform.

-A. Graham Down

Richard was considered a home schooler at the time, but “hybrid schooler” would have been more accurate: He took classes from an online provider, a small private school, and a performing arts program.

Richard made the team, and by midseason lots of new baseball buddies were hanging around our house on weekends. Soon we discovered that Richard wasn’t the only “hybrid student” on the ball club that year. Leon’s first baseman spent his mornings taking online courses through the Florida Virtual School, the knuckleball pitcher was taking a “dual enrollment” English class through the community college, and the left-handed pro prospect had enrolled in a financial management course at a local college (in case he was drafted).

Moreover, one of Leon’s outfielders had figured out an ingenious way to get a music education few families could afford out of pocket. This kid took mostly music classes at Leon by day and then several online courses at night and during the summer. He ended up being a four-time All-State musician and getting a college offer from Juilliard.

When I first encountered all these hybrid students, I figured there must be something in the water at Leon High. But I came to realize that many of these unconventional schooling options were the by-product of reforms former governor Jeb Bush had initiated, especially the creation of the Florida Virtual School.

The rise of hybrid schooling bodes well for students whose needs, gifts, interests, and learning styles do not align with the factory school model of the 20th century, and for parents who know that no school can maximize the potential of every child every year in every way. (There is a Magic School Bus, but no magic school.)

Customized education is good for all kids and not just for academic reasons. Several years ago, Richard entered a local talent competition structured much like American Idol. Different singers would perform at big community gatherings and then people would vote for the ones they considered the best. Richard kept advancing week after week, until on the night of the finals, one of the organizers took me aside and said, “I don’t get it. You guys just moved here a year or so ago, and yet Richard seems to have a really strong base of support.”

As Richard’s proud papa, I wanted to tell this guy, “Of course, Richard’s got lots of support—he’s the best one.” But I knew what this guy was getting at, so I explained, “See that guy over there? That’s Richard’s drama teacher at Young Actors Theatre. He gets all his thespian friends to vote for Richard.” Then I said, “See that family over there? They know Richard from baseball. Those kids over there took classes with Richard at the classical Christian school. The college students way back there know Richard from Young Life youth ministry. And those kids over there are in the AP classes Richard is taking at Leon.”

The contest organizer realized that Richard’s social network was far larger than he’d expected. What I marveled at was how diverse his friendship network was. Gay. Straight. Christian. Non-Christian. Jocks. Thespians. Nerds. Cool kids. Richard’s friends reflect the diversity of his hybrid-schooling life.

Now, I’m not so naive as to think that hybrid schooling will eradicate high school cliques or classroom bullying. But customized schooling can offer kids a far richer, and more varied, social experience than they might otherwise get. And when you add these social benefits to the educational advantages of customized schooling, you can see why I’m glad that Jeb Bush and other reformers had the Hank Greenberg–like chutzpah to change the way that Florida does education.

William Mattox is a resident fellow at the James Madison Institute in Tallahassee, Florida.

They’re wrong—fortunately. The new Phi Delta Kappan/Gallup survey makes clear that most adults value their children’s teachers. Seventy-one percent say they “have trust and confidence in the men and women who are teaching children in the public schools” and 67 percent say they would like to have one of their own children become a public-school teacher.

That’s tons more positive than the public’s view of schools in general: Just 17 percent give A or B grades to them (though Americans continue to give high marks to their own children’s schools—and this figure, say the pollsters, is rising).

Respondents were also asked to grade the teachers, principals, and school board in their own community. Here again, teachers fared best: Sixty-nine percent of respondents would award their town’s teachers either an A or a B versus 54 percent for principals, and a meager 37 percent for the school board. (This widening recognition of the governance failings of our public-school systems is, in its way, heartening.) Parents—interestingly—rank the worst: A discouraging 36 percent of respondents would give their communities’ parents top marks for “bringing up their children.”

So whence cometh the perceived public ire?  PDK and Gallup lift the lid a bit: Forty-seven percent of survey respondents feel that unionization (of teachers) has hurt “the quality of public education in the United States” compared with 26 percent who say it has helped. (Are you paying attention, Randi and Dennis? Your organizations don’t have a lot of fans. Even school boards fare better!)

Some aspects of school teaching seem permanent, even eternal, but in many ways teaching today has changed from my own student days and it’s likely to be even more different tomorrow.

In the last half-century, unionization has flooded the schools (and is now slowly starting to ebb—or be pushed back). Possibly more important, though, has been the sheer growth in the number of public-school teachers. In the 1950s, the crude ratio of students to teachers across American K-12 education was 27:1. Today it’s 14:1. That doesn’t mean everybody’s classes are smaller but it does mean that we now employ an enormous number of teachers—in the ballpark of 3.5 million—and essentially all the extra money we’ve put into public education has gone to pay for their salaries and benefits. That’s why teacher pay has simply kept pace with the cost of living and why these levels of compensation in much of the U.S. today aren’t sufficient to attract and keep a great many of our ablest college graduates. (Mercifully, they attract and keep some!) If today’s ratio were still 27:1, today’s school budgets would be sufficient to pay an average teacher salary north of $100,000.

As for what will be different in the teachers’ world tomorrow, five developments need to be noted and taken seriously.

First, technology is going to have a major impact, both on what happens within traditional schools and classrooms and, more broadly, on what we mean by “school” and where and when learning occurs. Most likely, it will mean that we need fewer flesh-and-blood teachers sitting in the classroom with Johnnie and Susie—though we may need more aides and tutors and such to provide face-to-face explanations, pats on the back, and (when needed) stern looks and reminders to remain on task. (Expect a paper soon from our “Creating Sound Policy for Digital Learning” series on the specifics of these shifts.)

Second, school budgets are going to be flat (or falling) for the foreseeable future—and looming deficits in retirement and pension funds almost certainly mean that the take-home pay of practicing  teachers will see no real-dollar growth and could well decline. (The only rational antidote to that is, in fact, employing fewer individuals and paying them better.)

Third, there’s a revolution underway in teacher evaluation and many of the HR practices associated with it, including retention, tenure, compensation, promotions, and layoffs. It’s rocky, to be sure, but we’re gradually coming to gauge teachers more by what their students learn and less by the credentials that they carry. (And this isn’t just a cause trumpeted by wonks and reform junkies. Per yesterday’s poll, 74 percent of adult Americans say that it’s important to incorporate student test-score data into teacher evaluations.)

Fourth, big changes are brewing in teacher preparation and licensure as ed schools come under fire, as “alternate routes” proliferate, as programs like Teach For America get greater traction, and as more attention is paid to what a teacher knows about her subject than to what pedagogy courses she took in college.

Fifth, though the system hasn’t quite made this adjustment yet, we’re seeing that a non-trivial fraction of teachers are people who want to do this work for a time, before or after they do something else, rather than make a lifelong career of it. We’ll likely evolve a set of arrangements that capitalizes on the short-termers as well as the classroom careerists.

As we contemplate this future, it will surely help if teachers themselves, with or (more likely) without their unions’ help, prove willing to experiment, to grow, to listen, and to learn. And it will help if all the rest of us—even the curmudgeonly crew at Fordham—pause to thank today’s hardworking educators for selfless, challenging, and not very well compensated work on which our kids’ future and our country’s prospects depend so heavily.

-Chester E. Finn, Jr.

In “Getting At-Risk Teens to Graduation: Blended learning offers a second chance,” June Kronholz writes about Performance Learning Centers (PLCs), schools that mix credit recovery and blended learning to help at-risk kids make their way to high school graduation. And, in the process she helps to add nuance to a discussion of online learning that is too often filled with false assumptions and dichotomies.

In the mythical battle between teachers and technology, PLCs don’t fit neatly into the dominant narrative. They are high-touch, combining small learning communities and wrap-around supports for guidance and social services. And, they are not cheap, with both start-up costs and relatively low educator/student ratios.

There are no silver bullets in this story. Despite the students’ strong scores on Virginia’s Standards of Learning exams, Kronholz wonders about the rigor of instruction (a concern across Virginia given the state’s college remediation rates). And, we don’t yet have data about how well students do after graduation. Still, the PLCs show promise. And this is the type of story that helps us understand what a different notion of school, made possible in part by technology, looks like — warts and all.

-Bill Tucker

Teacher benefits, once a sleepy question primarily of interest to actuaries, have become a flash point in the education debate. With individual states on the hook for tens or hundreds of millions in unfunded pension and health insurance obligations, state leaders are trying to determine the severity of the situation and the appropriate response. In this forum, Robert Costrell of the University of Arkansas and Mike Podgursky of the University of Missouri argue that the situation is critical, but offer an opportunity for overdue reform, while Christian Weller of the University of Massachusetts-Boston argues that measured steps will put teacher pensions on sound footing.

Education Next: How bad is the teacher pension crisis?

Christian Weller: The states’ fiscal crisis necessitates that they address pension underfunding. Underfunding means that pension assets are lower than liabilities, or those benefits promised to beneficiaries. The underfunding often seems staggering. The Center for Retirement Research at Boston College, for instance, estimated the gap at more than $700 billion in 2009. The aggregate underfunding reflects the money that states will need to come up with over several decades. But the CRR also estimates that an additional 2 percent of payroll would cover the expected shortfall, making the problem manageable without ruining governments.

Christian Weller

States can take a balanced approach to managing pension underfunding that fits their particular circumstances. Thirty-nine states reduced benefits, increased contributions, or both between 2001 and 2009, according to the Pew Center on the States. The exact combination of benefit and tax changes depends on several factors, including public employees’ Social Security coverage, current benefits and contributions, and states’ human resource needs. States still want to make sure that their benefits allow them to hire the most-effective employees.

Robert Costrell and Michael Podgursky:

Indeed, educator pension systems are becoming increasingly expensive and, in many states, are seriously underfunded (see “Teacher Retirement Benefits,” research, Spring 2009). One major source of this problem is the massive increase in benefits from several decades of legislative enhancements. The key to understanding this is the concept of “pension wealth,” the current dollar value of the expected stream of future benefits, in other words, the cash value of a retiree’s annuity. Pension wealth encompasses both the annual pension payment and, importantly, the number of years it is collected.

The two solid curves in Figure 1 show pension wealth for a typical Missouri teacher in 1975 and today. Each curve is calculated under the current salary schedule for teachers in the state capital, so the growth represents only pension rule changes. The bottom curve shows that under 1975 rules a teacher entering at age 25 would have accrued just under $400,000 in pension wealth by age 55. Today, the same teacher would have accrued pension wealth of just under $900,000 by the same age. Not surprisingly, these enhancements have come at a substantial cost: Combined contributions for teachers and districts increased from 16 to 29 percent of salary over this period. However, even this is inadequate; the portion of salary required to pay for pension wealth accruals of current teachers and to pay off the unfunded liability is 31.3 percent.

EN: What steps should states take to address the crisis?

RC & MP: Given concerns about cost and long-term sustainability, a number of states have cut benefits, usually for new teachers, and others are considering doing so. However, in making these changes, policymakers should carefully consider their labor market effects. Some of the proposed cuts reproduce, and even exacerbate, undesirable features of current systems. These shortcomings stem from a fundamental flaw: the failure to tie benefits to contributions. Thus the fix must expose and eliminate the gaps between the two. Below are three recommendations for reforming teacher pensions:

Robert Costrell

1. Report the gaps between contributions and pension wealth. In many respects, current defined benefit (DB) pension plans for teachers are opaque. Teachers rarely know what their plan is worth. By contrast, holders of 403(b) or 401(k) accounts typically know exactly what their account is worth at any point in time. To provide the same transparency for teachers, plans should not only disclose the projected annual pension payment, they should also report pension wealth. For comparison, the plan should disclose the cumulative value of contributions, both the employee’s and the employer’s, along with accumulated returns. In this way, each educator could see how the value of her accrued benefits compares with the value of the contributions. In the typical teacher pension plan, these are going to be very different numbers. Early in a teacher’s career, the value of the contributions will far exceed pension wealth, whereas for more senior teachers, the reverse is true. The dotted line in Figure 1 illustrates this point. It represents the cumulative value of contributions that is fiscally equivalent to the current pension plan, showing that the cumulative value of pension contributions exceeds pension wealth until age 50. However, between ages 50 and 62 pension wealth is typically well in excess of contributions. Not surprisingly, this is when the vast majority of full-career teachers choose to retire.

Michael Podgursky

2. Close the gaps between contributions and pension wealth. To make pensions more equitable and effective tools for staffing schools, we propose that retirement benefits paid to any teacher should be tied to the lifetime contributions made by or for that teacher. If $300,000 has been contributed on behalf of a teacher (including accumulated returns), then the cash value of an annuity provided to this teacher should also be $300,000.

Unfortunately, as we have seen, this fundamental principle is routinely violated in teacher plans. The gap (positive or negative) between the value of benefits and contributions is rarely considered in plan design. Instead, legislatures tinker with complex and arbitrary pension rules, such as the calculation of final average salary (how many years included, what counts as “salary”), the annual service “multiplier,” and the eligibility rules to receive the pension (“rule of 80,” “25-and-out,” etc.). Since these benefit rules are not tied to contributions, legislatures have, over the years, enhanced them, without regard to equity or efficiency, and often without adequate funding. These complex rules also encourage “gaming” by educators and districts in order to increase the gap between benefits and contributions.

Our analysis shows that current systems typically result in very large implicit transfers from young teachers working short spells to “long termers,” who work full careers in the same system (see “Golden Handcuffs,” research, Winter 2010). In our view, a teacher who works 10 years or 30 years should accrue pension wealth roughly equivalent to total pension contributions (with accumulated returns). Thus, in Figure 1, the pension wealth curve would coincide with the contributions curve depicted, for a fiscally equivalent plan, or with a lower curve if costs are to be reduced.

In addition to improving equity, tying benefits to contributions would have important workforce benefits. First, it would provide rational incentives for retirement versus continued work. Each year, an educator would accrue pension wealth in a smooth and transparent way, providing a steady addition to the annual salary she is earning. This would generate neutral incentives to work or retire based on individual preferences and effectiveness. That is not the case with current systems. In our own work, we have shown sharp “peaks and valleys” in pension wealth accrual, which distort incentives for retirement (see “Peaks, Cliffs, and Valleys,” features, Winter 2008). Some years (e.g., at 25 or 30 years of service) yield increases in pension wealth that are several times the teacher’s salary. This provides a huge incentive to stay on the job until that pension “spike,” regardless of classroom effectiveness. There is no economic rationale for favoring one year of work over another in this way. Nor should an additional year of work reduce pension wealth (net of employee contributions), as is the case in current teacher plans after a certain point, often at relatively young ages. This penalizes good teachers who wish to stay.

Tying benefits to contributions would also eliminate the massive penalties for mobility in current systems. It is well understood in the private sector that in order to recruit and retain talented young employees it is necessary to provide portable retirement benefits. This is accomplished by defined contribution (DC) or cash balance (CB) plans that vest immediately or nearly so. Current teacher plans typically have 5- and even 10-year vesting. Our research finds that even for vested educators, the loss in pension wealth for those who split a teaching career between two traditional plans is massive. In a system where benefits are tied to the cumulative value of contributions, it does not matter whether contributions have all been made in one or many jobs: Penalties for mobility are eliminated.

3. There is more than one way to do it right—and to do it wrong. We favor CB plans. These are a form of defined benefit plans that generate individual retirement accounts in bookkeeping form within the pension fund. They are funded by contributions from employer and employee just like most current teacher plans and carry an investment return guaranteed by the employer. Such plans resemble a DC plan, but without transferring investment risk or asset management to the teacher. They are transparent, offer smooth wealth accrual, and are readily turned into annuities at retirement, like traditional teacher plans. However, no one year of retirement is favored over any other. Large private employers such as IBM have converted to such plans, as have a few public employers. The TIAA guaranteed-return plans that are common in higher education are similar in operation. They have provided retirement security for generations of college professors, who often spread careers over multiple institutions.

By contrast, Illinois is a cautionary example of how not to reform teacher pensions. Illinois recently implemented a two-tiered plan, placing teachers hired after January 1, 2011, in the second tier. Tier 2 teachers make identical contributions (9.4 percent) as their Tier 1 colleagues, but take a drastic cut in pension wealth accrual over their work lives, as shown in Figure 2. The Tier 2 plan retains the same basic structure while raising the retirement age. This exacerbates the back-loading and mobility penalties, and widens the gaps between benefits and contributions. A new teacher entering the Illinois plan at age 25 will accrue no pension wealth, net of employee contributions, until age 51. This is not an attractive offer for young, mobile teachers. Indeed, the Tier 2 package is not actually a net “benefit” for entering teachers, since the teacher contributions are nearly double the cost of the average benefit they accrue; the rest is basically a tax to pay for benefits accrued but not funded, by previous cohorts of teachers.

As states grapple with the current pension crisis, a window of opportunity is open to implement more modern and strategic plans, or to make matters worse. Fundamental reforms are needed to fix these broken systems. Systems should first be required to report the gaps between benefits and contributions for all members. Then, as a matter of equity and efficiency, the plans should be restructured to close these gaps by tying benefits to contributions. This would give young teachers their fair share of the retirement benefit pie and rationalize the retirement incentives for all teachers.

CW: States can take a number of steps to alleviate the pension crisis:

1. Spread the pain of addressing underfunding, if adjustments are unavoidable. Changes to pension plans generally only apply to new hires. State constitutions and courts typically hold already-earned benefits and future not-yet-earned benefits for existing employees and beneficiaries inviolate. This protection is also occasionally applied to employee contributions. Governments cannot reduce benefits and raise contributions for current employees, even if they want to. Hence, adjustments fall disproportionately on new hires.

Private-sector pension benefits also enjoy substantial protections, but to a lesser degree than public-sector benefits. The Employee Retirement Income Security Act of 1974 protects from reductions benefits that have already been earned, but it does not protect future benefits not yet earned. Private-sector employers can thus lower future benefits when a crisis requires a drastic change.

States should change their public benefit protections to permit adjustments to be distributed across a broader range of employees, if such adjustments become necessary. States could guarantee already-earned benefits but not those not yet earned, as the private sector does. States could also ease older employees’ distress about potential benefit changes by allowing future benefit reductions only for employees under a certain age.

There are several advantages to this approach: Current beneficiaries would remain fully protected, already-earned benefits could not be taken away, and older employees would receive the retirement benefits that they had earned. Arbitrary divisions in younger employees’ compensation arising from whether they were hired before or after the benefit change went into effect would also be eliminated.

2. Prevent underfunding in the future. The current underfunding resulted from massive stock and real-estate market declines. Public pensions were prudently managed before the crisis, as Jeff Wenger and Christian Weller have demonstrated elsewhere.

But many governments did not contribute as much as necessary to their pension funds, making them vulnerable in a crisis. The problems of pensions are more a result of low employer contributions than poor pension management. Governments often avoided paying the full amount of what was necessary to cover benefits earned in a given year. Even in 2011, Governor Chris Christie (R-NJ) considers the state’s contributions to its pension plan an optional expense. Governments, as employers, have exacerbated, and continue to exacerbate, their pension plans’ financial challenges.

One solution is to make governments pay the necessary amount to their pension plans. States could set a floor under employer pension contributions. The employer contributions could never fall to zero, commonly known as “taking a contribution holiday,” and employer contributions could never fall below the “floor” rate. DB pensions would receive money more regularly than is currently the case and thus underfunding would become less likely, particularly during a crisis.

If they set a floor for employer pension contributions, states would simultaneously have to change the rules that govern pension funding. Strong financial market performance could easily translate into overfunded pensions, which is desirable, since it means that DB pensions are prepared for a rainy day, such as the recent crisis. But overfunded plans could feed appetites for benefit improvements or contribution cuts, unless the law states that better benefits and lower contributions could only be considered if a DB pension has a minimum buffer for emergencies. Weller and Baker (2005) suggest a buffer of 20 percent of liabilities, which could be even smaller for state DB pension plans, since states cannot go bankrupt.

3. Beware of unintended consequences with alternative benefits. The wrong changes could have serious adverse effects. This would be the case if states also changed their retirement plans from DB pensions to an alternative design, particularly defined contribution (DC) savings accounts such as 403(b) plans, but also a cash balance plan. Cash balance plans look like DC plans to employees but operate like a DB pension for employers. Employers offer a guaranteed rate of return on current and past contributions to a cash balance plan and take the risk of higher contributions if the actual rate of return falls below the promised one.

Alternative benefits are less efficient than DB pensions. First, the average teacher effectiveness will likely decrease, as much higher employee turnover will easily offset any potential effectiveness gains. Second, alternative benefits come with substantial costs.

One unproven assertion about alternative benefits is that they would result in greater teacher effectiveness. Alternative retirement benefits are attractive to their proponents because these benefits would offer more compensation earlier in a teacher’s career and promote turnover later in a teacher’s career relative to a DB pension. Higher compensation earlier would attract to the profession people who could potentially become more-effective teachers, while fewer financial incentives to stay would supposedly lead ineffective teachers to leave earlier than they otherwise would.

The literature on teacher effectiveness and employee turnover associated with benefits shows that average teacher effectiveness will likely decline with alternative benefits. Higher early compensation will offer only a small incentive for promising though untested teachers to enter the profession. And the link between teacher pay and student achievement has been shown to be tentative at best. Since a benefit change would only marginally increase beginning teachers’ compensation, any initial bump in overall instructional effectiveness would be both fleeting and faint, if it exists at all. Any small initial improvement in teacher effectiveness will be quickly offset by higher turnover among more-experienced teachers. Experienced teachers who leave will be replaced by inexperienced teachers, who will need time to build their classroom skills. Small turnover increases can quickly offset small productivity gains to ultimately lower average teacher quality. The literature, in fact, shows that we can expect substantial increases in turnover with a switch to DC and cash balance plans from DB pensions so that higher turnover will eliminate any possible gains from higher initial compensation. We estimate, for instance, that the chance of worsening teacher effectiveness is about 60 percent with a cash balance plan and 70 percent with a DC plan under optimistic assumptions that favor alternative benefit designs based on the existing long-standing literature on pensions and turnover and the much smaller literature on initial compensation and teacher effectiveness.

Teacher turnover can be expected to increase with alternative benefits because employees will understand that their economic security is less well protected with a DC or cash balance plan than with a DB pension. National opinion polls routinely find very strong support for DB pensions, as individuals who do not like risk prefer to have some income guarantees for themselves and their families when they retire, become disabled, or pass away. Fewer income guarantees, or insurance, lead people to leave employment more quickly than they otherwise would. Thus, under these circumstances, teacher turnover would increase and average teacher effectiveness would fall.

Private-sector employers without DB pensions often use other tools to mirror the human resource effects, i.e., long tenure of skilled workers, of DB pensions, exactly because they are worried about turnover. Employers in the field of information technology, especially, offer, for instance, stock options and stock grants to recruit and retain skilled workers for long periods of time. States simply cannot offer these benefits and hence have no way to lower turnover among effective employees.

Alternative benefits also cost more. First, DB pensions would have to operate with a finite investment horizon, increasingly moving money to secure, low-return assets so that lower investment earnings would lend less of a helping hand to pay for benefits. Second, employers may have to cover any underfunding more quickly for closed plans than for ongoing ones, raising employer contributions. Third, higher turnover increases cost due to more recruitment and training of new hires. Fourth, there are substantial transition costs. Older employees will continue to earn DB pensions, they will earn more benefits as they stay longer on the job, and there will be more long-term employees under the DB pension, raising the cost per employee of the DB pension. New employees, in comparison, would be more prevalent in the new plan, earn initially higher benefits than with a DB pension, and thus raise costs relative to a DB pension. These transition costs would last for about four decades and could average 1 percent of payroll for many years, even if the costs of retirement benefits are the same before and after the transition. Fifth, DC plans offer fewer insurance benefits than DB pensions. The insurance exists largely because employees who happen to live through a prolonged period of prosperity share some of their gains with less fortunate employees. Researchers at the National Institute on Retirement Security estimated in 2008 that the loss of insurance features meant that each dollar invested in a DC plan generated 46 percent less in retirement benefits than a dollar invested in a DB pension. Finally, there are higher administrative costs due to a large number of small accounts, especially in DC plans, and increased movement of money between retirement plans.

The two states that have switched from DB pensions to DC plans, West Virginia and Alaska, had severe cases of buyers’ remorse. West Virginia eventually switched back to a DB plan for their teachers in 2008, and Alaska’s policymakers have been investigating the possibility of making a similar reversal.

The lessons from the evidence are clear: States can manage the financial challenges of their pension plans. The proposal to use the current crisis as an opportunity to switch retirement plans, though, will leave states with a much less efficient compensation system. The average effectiveness of teachers will likely drop, and costs will go up substantially. States will be better off managing the financial problems of their DB pensions by putting mechanisms in place that will prevent future underfunding instead of engaging in costly retirement-plan experiments that offer no benefits.

EN: What, then, are the main areas of disagreement?

RC & MP: We disagree on structure. We argue that benefits should be tied to contributions. Professor Weller believes this would have adverse consequences.

Weller assumes a shift to CB or DC would raise annual exits at all ages by a hefty rate, between 22 and 220 percent, according to his recent but as yet unpublished paper on which his efficiency claim is based. Thus, the share of novice teachers in the workforce would rise and average effectiveness would fall. However, the 22 percent estimate is drawn from a 1993 paper by Allen, Clark, and McDermed that compares private-sector workers “covered by a company retirement plan” to those who were not covered by any plan, so there are no implications for CB or DC. The 220 percent assumption is drawn from a 1996 paper by Even and MacPherson that actually shows no difference in quit rates between DB and DC.

Economic theory suggests mixed effects of CB on teacher quit rates, raising them for mid-career teachers who would otherwise hang on for early retirement and lowering them for late-career teachers, otherwise driven out by negative accrual. It might also lower quit rates for young teachers, since they accrue more pension wealth under CB than under current plans. This mixed pattern is supported by Costrell and McGee’s findings, in their 2010 peer-reviewed econometric study of teacher response to pension wealth accrual. Their simulation of a shift to CB, based on their behavioral estimates, found a slight rise in average teacher tenure, not a large fall.

Turning to transition costs, Weller claims that new plans raise costs on old plans by forcing changes in investment strategy or amortization schedules. However, pension plans often introduce new “tiers” without these effects, as new and old funds are commingled. Introducing CB as a new tier would be no different.

Weller’s simulation of transition costs, also from his unpublished paper, makes a different argument. He claims costs will rise for decades because entering cohorts have a different time pattern of pension wealth accrual than previous cohorts. But the time pattern is irrelevant here. Each cohort’s cost is the present value of its lifetime accruals, however they are distributed. Costs cannot rise unless some cohort enjoys higher benefits and, hence, higher lifetime accruals of pension wealth. Yet Weller assumes each cohort accrues the same pension wealth—10.25 percent of the cohort’s lifetime payroll. That is the cohort’s “normal cost,” the contributions required to fund the cohort’s lifetime benefits and accruals. The system’s required contributions are a blend of each cohort’s normal costs, but these are the same, 10.25 percent for each cohort. Thus, the system’s contributions are unchanged, and there are no transition costs.

Costs and contributions would fall if benefits were cut, as Weller recommends. Indeed, they would fall more quickly under his reasonable proposal to cut normal costs of current teachers, as a matter of equity between generations. However, we also favor equity for mobile young teachers, who will continue to receive benefits worth far less than contributions, absent fundamental reform.

CW: The evidence shows that defined benefit pensions work for education. Professors Costrell and Podgursky do not address the fact that both employers and employees prefer defined benefit pensions over other retirement benefits.

The vast majority of states underwent pension reforms in the past decade to address the financial challenges of pension underfunding and none abandoned their defined benefit pensions. And private-sector employers in key growth industries, such as information technology and banking, offer either defined benefit pensions or other forms of deferred compensation, such as stock options, to their employees to mimic the retention benefits of pensions when pensions are absent. A substantial literature both develops the theory and shows the supporting evidence for the efficacy of deferred compensation as a retention and recruitment tool for skilled employees. There is a clear economic rationale for deferred compensation, since it allows employers to recoup the investments made in hiring and training skilled employees, such as teachers.

Teachers equally prefer pensions. Opinion polls routinely show a preference for defined benefit pensions, even among younger employees. And when teachers (and other public employees) have been given a choice between defined benefit pensions and defined contribution plans, the vast majority typically chooses the defined benefit pension plan. The evidence contradicts Professors Costrell and Podgursky’s key assertion that alternative plans that offer more immediate compensation are more attractive to younger teachers.

Finally, transition costs from a defined benefit pension to a cash balance plan would quickly drain public coffers. There would be a growing concentration of more-experienced teachers under the defined benefit pension that favors more-experienced teachers and a high concentration of inexperienced teachers under a cash balance plan that favors inexperienced teachers. A long-standing literature has regularly shown that DB pensions substantially reduce turnover compared to other retirement benefits, suggesting that a benefit switch will increase turnover.

The increase in turnover will raise costs and pose the threat of lower average effectiveness, as my own simulations for a switch from DB pensions to cash balance plans show. The costs are predictable and substantial, while any benefits are highly uncertain and likely nonexistent.

Eighteen-year-old Tyriq Jones was fairly blunt about the mess he had gotten himself into before transferring to the Hampton, Virginia, online school where I approached him one chilly day this spring. “I got in trouble. I was playing around. I got backed up” in high school, he said. He had failed three classes in his junior year and, faced with the prospect of repeating a year, probably would have dropped out instead, he told me. “I didn’t want that kind of pressure.”

People who deal with at-risk teenagers say dropping out is not an event; it’s a process. Youngsters miss school and get “backed up” in class, so they miss more school because they’re bewildered or embarrassed, and fall further behind. Seeing few ways to recover, “they just silently drop out,” said Richard Firth, who showed me around the Hampton school and two others in Richmond that are using online learning to derail the cycle.

In the three years the 75-seat Hampton Performance Learning Center has been open, it claims to have graduated 91 students. There’s a waiting list for admission, so the school opened a second shift, which also is near capacity. Sherri Pritchard, the school’s social-studies “learning facilitator”—there are no teachers and no principal here—said 95 percent of her online students pass Virginia’s end-of-course history test, which would put them well ahead of both the Hampton school district’s and state’s pass rates.

And Tyriq: He has only a C average after a year at the Hampton PLC, he said, but he graduated in June—on time—and plans to enlist in the Army, his goal all along.

The New Alternative

Online K–12 education made its appearance in the mid-1990s, largely as a resource for bright students who had no access to accelerated classes. It moved next into core high-school courses where districts found themselves with teacher shortages—math, science, foreign languages—and has been growing bumptiously, and in a dozen directions, ever since.

The International Association for K–12 Online Learning, which goes by the acronym iNACOL, estimates that 82 percent of school districts now offer at least one online course. Thirty-two states have virtual schools where online offerings range from one class to an entire high-school curriculum, according to an annual report on online learning published by the Evergreen Education Group, a Colorado consultancy. At the Florida Virtual School alone, students collectively took 220,000 classes online in 2009–10 (see “Florida’s Online Option,” features, Summer 2009). Twenty-six states have at least one full-time online school, and perhaps 225,000 youngsters were full-time online students this year, says John Watson, editor of the Evergreen report.

During a recent visit to the Richmond PLCs, Congressman Eric Cantor chats with Dr. Donna Scott.

Two of the fastest-growing trends in online education converge in the Performance Learning Center project, which is why I called Communities in Schools, a nonprofit dropout-prevention program that devised the model in Georgia in 2002.

The PLCs call themselves an alternative to traditional schools and distance themselves from the credit-recovery factories that many districts have opened to boost their graduation rates ahead of state and federal sanctions. (Indeed, a few PLC students enroll for the chance to accelerate.) But the schools do offer struggling kids like Tyriq a chance to make up courses they failed in traditional teacher-student classrooms, which puts them at the nexus of a national debate. States are raising their graduation standards, but returning kids to the classroom for a second attempt at algebra often is counterproductive—Why should we suppose they’ll understand equations any better the second time around?—and gobbles up teacher time.

The second trend is the “blended” approach, combining online learning with a teacher-led classroom (see “Future Schools,” features, Summer 2011). Most instruction is online in the PLC model, but a teacher-coach is there to answer questions, direct projects, and keep kids on track.

Communities in Schools linked those two trends with the small-school idea and has expanded the project to seven states and 33 schools. PLCs have only four or five classrooms, four or five teachers, and fewer than 100 students. Teachers are district employees who are paid the district scale and apply for their jobs. Kids remain part of their home schools, which has raised graduation statistics for those schools and generated buy-in from their administrators.

PLCs generally receive the same per-pupil funding as  traditional schools. Their biggest expense, after salaries, goes to licensing fees for the online curriculum, which Richard Firth, the Virginia PLC director, put at about $35,000 a year per school. Start-up costs for computers, teacher training, and to carve new schools out of old facilities can be a showstopper for financially pressed school districts. Richmond, which is building its first new high school in 40 years, plans to include some multipurpose rooms that could be used for a future PLC.

Richard Firth, director of the Virginia PLCs, says dropping out of school for at-risk teenagers is not an “event” but a “process.”

The only outside funding comes from Communities in Schools, which pays the salary of a services coordinator, who links youngsters with housing, day-care, medical, and other service providers and helps them plan what they do after graduation. The services coordinator at the Richmond career-center PLC keeps a closet of baby clothes in her office for students whose own children can attend Head Start or day care downstairs.

Almost disarmingly, the PLCs reach out to youngsters that schools typically find the most troublesome. Sherman Curl, the academic coordinator—i.e., principal—at the Adult Career Development Center PLC in Richmond, handed me a brochure describing the students for whom the PLC is a good fit. Kids with “poor attendance,” “excessive tardiness,” “academic failure,” “apathy,” “social issues,” low motivation, and such “challenges to success” as pregnancy and poverty, it read.

In a summary of its 2009–10 academic year, Virginia’s Communities in Schools reported that one-third of the students at its four PLCs were at least two years behind in academic credits when they arrived. They were a year or two older than their conventional-school peers and, in the previous year, averaged six suspensions and 24 absences each at their former schools. Several youngsters told me they’d fallen in with the wrong crowd at their old schools, or they felt bullied and isolated. “I started messing up,” a chatty 18-year-old named Chelsie Saunders told me at the Hampton PLC, which is housed in a modern teen center, complete with pool tables, a basketball court, a coffee bar, and an airy television lounge with leather sofas.

“These are kids who never made it in a comprehensive school,” said Wes Hamner, the academic coordinator at the Richmond Technical Center PLC, which occupies one floor of a sprawling trades-training campus in Richmond’s industrial district.

For all that, the three PLCs I visited were remarkably quiet and orderly: There wasn’t much chatter about what kids were learning, but there wasn’t any catcalling, hallway scuffling, or acting out in class, either. Hamner pointed out that there’s no security at his school and that the lockers don’t even have locks. Teachers sat in the back or in a corner of the classrooms, while students sat at computers, wearing headsets.

Teacher Pat Sessions monitors student work via a “dashboard” on her computer.

Teaching to the Student

At Hampton, I asked Pritchard, the social-studies facilitator, how she knew what her students were doing, so she opened a dashboard on her computer. It showed that on computer 3, a student was working on a U.S. history unit, or “module,” on civil rights. The teenager on computer 6 was working on a module on imperialism for the same course, and the student on computer 7 was doing a review and practice test on the executive branch of the U.S. government.

Most PLCs, including those in Virginia, use NovaNET, an online curriculum that is marketed by Pearson Education Inc. The program tests a student at the end of each lesson, module, and course, and lets those who pass their tests with at least an 80 percent move on. For those who don’t pass, the computer singles out the content they seemed not to understand, reteaches it, and retests.

Administrators and teachers at the Richmond Adult Career Development Center PLC: Sherman Curl (front right), Rani Gharseese (front left), Elizabeth Muse (center), Pat Sessions (back left), Ingrid Thomas (back center), Stephania Muterspaugh (back right)

Kids like the immediate feedback, Katherine Fox, the academic coordinator at Hampton, told me: “It’s difficult for them to wait for success. Kids want to move on.” A mop-haired boy named Michael told me that he used to obsess over test questions at his conventional school and couldn’t force himself to move ahead. The NovaNET practice tests and make-up tests relieved him of that anxiety, he said, as he pulled certificates from his backpack to show that he had completed two business classes, oceanography, and biology. “No one gets left behind here,” he said.

Back on Pritchard’s dashboard, meanwhile, I could see that the student on computer 1 was using an open-source educational website called SAS Curriculum Pathways to research voting rights for the government class, while the student on computer 2 was researching Appomattox on SAS for history class. Most Hampton PLC computers can access only NovaNET; the few that can access SAS can’t go any further than research sites to which SAS provides a link.

At the career center PLC in Richmond, which is housed on the top floor of a 1920s-era school built for the city’s elite black students, science facilitator Patricia Sessions showed me more. A “pacing sheet,” a sort of minimum speed limit set by the state education department, suggested that teachers should expect to devote three weeks to a unit on biochemical processes, part of the biology curriculum. But when Sessions opened the computer file of a student named Trish, it showed that Trish had finished the unit in a week. She’d spent 26 minutes on an online lesson about atoms and molecules, and got a 90 on the test. She’d spent an hour on the properties-of-water lesson and another hour on acids and bases, and got 80 on both.

Teachers told me that most NovaNET courses are comparable to textbook-based courses in length and content—a comeback to critics who talk of watered-down curricula at alternative schools—but that many students move through them more quickly, and often finish high school a semester early. “I’m constantly working rather than waiting,” explained a tattooed girl named Shaina at the Richmond Tech school.

Pritchard told me that she started the school year with students grouped largely by subject—say, geography in one period, government in another. But as the year went on, and students progressed at different speeds, classes became more diverse. In any class period now, she could have youngsters working on either semester of any of four subjects.

Wes Hamner is the academic coordinator at the Richmond Technical Center PLC.

As students finish courses, they can move to another classroom to work on courses they may find slower going. If they earn enough credits to graduate before the school year is over, the services coordinator steers them to mentorships, trade training, or jobs. Sessions, who was playing Mendelssohn in her otherwise-silent classroom as her students worked, said she started the year with 20 kids in her afternoon class and was down to 8 by late March.

All that movement precludes lectures or class discussions. Teachers told me that anywhere from 60 to 90 percent of the work in their classrooms is done online, with work sheets, projects, one-on-one meetings, and, for seniors, a research report and presentation accounting for the rest. The walls of Pritchard’s classroom were ringed with poster-board projects on the Zhou Dynasty, the Battle of Fort Fisher, and the roles of the secretary of defense and the U.S. Department of Education, among others. It wasn’t AP material, perhaps, but it showed persistence and attention to detail that are not always common in city schools. Last year, the whole school read the same book, Facing the Lion, and used it as a springboard for cross-disciplinary studies.

The students I talked with said they didn’t miss discussions or were self-aware enough to know that lectures didn’t fit their learning style. “I wouldn’t be listening anyway,” Tyriq told me; “I’m not a person to talk,” said another 18-year-old named Dashawn. Instead, kids said they liked the anonymity and independence of working online. “I like being in my own bubble,” Chelsie Saunders told me in Hampton: “I don’t like waiting on people” on some lessons and “I don’t worry about people getting frustrated with me” for working slowly on others.

Teacher Stephenia Muterspaugh prepares Shakeva Seward, Thomas Griffis, and Brittany Goodman for their Standards of Learning tests at the Richmond Adult Career Development Center PLC .

A Promising Start

The PLCs take youngsters who have at least attempted 9th grade, plus a few overage 8th graders. But most kids arrive in 10th or 11th grade when they realize they’re not on track to graduate. For admission, they must score at an 8th-grade level on standardized reading and math tests (the Richmond Tech PLC raised that to 9th grade because it had so many applicants), pass an interview, and sign an achievement contract that also commits them to attend a daily meeting called Morning Motivation. Each gets a learning plan that plots an individual path to graduation and then to a trade program, a job, or college.

Yvonne Brandon, superintendent of Richmond City Schools, expressed enthusiasm for online learning when we spoke. “We have to transform our ideas of what learning looks like,” she said. But PLC staffers told me that the districts sometimes struggle to understand them. Grade levels, quarterly grades, GPAs, and the academic calendar are fuzzy at a move-at-your-own-pace school: Youngsters told me how many credits they had, not whether they were juniors or seniors.

Sherri Pritchard is Hampton PLC’s social studies “learning facilitator.”

Students graduate when they earn the state-mandated 22 credits, but they can’t receive diplomas until spring. Firth, the Virginia PLC director, said he recently learned that some of those graduates-without-diplomas were being counted as absent by the district because, well, they weren’t in school. “We’re so outside the box and education is so inside the box,” Hamner sighed.

The data on online education are still pretty equivocal. There are no data on what kind of student performs best in an online class, although everyone I talked with assumed it probably was the independent achiever, because that kind of student performs well in any setting. There are few quality measures, although Michael Horn, executive director for education at the Innosight Institute, a Mountain View, California, think tank, points out that we don’t know how to measure quality in face-to-face classes, either.

Barbara Means of SRI International, a research institute in Menlo Park, California, told me that much of the ambiguity is because state data systems aren’t set up to compare online learners to in-class learners. They don’t record which students taking the state’s standardized math tests completed them at the end of an online course, for example, and which took them after a face-to-face class. Most states don’t keep student-level data, so researchers also can’t compare similar students at a full-time virtual school and those in a full-time conventional one.

Means reviewed 12 years of literature on online learning and said that from the limited data they presented she concluded that “there wasn’t much difference” in the educational outcomes of kids who studied online and those who studied in a classroom. That suggests that schools should consider some other reason if they’re thinking of shifting curriculum or students online, she said: Perhaps it’s cheaper or there are social benefits, like making school more flexible for working students or for those with infants.

Means also surveyed the literature comparing outcomes at traditional schools to outcomes at schools that blended face-to-face and online teaching. Youngsters in the blended environments, with a teacher and technology, did “significantly better,” she said. But that may be because blended schools offered youngsters more learning time, more content, or perhaps both, rather than because of the different approach to teaching.

Katherine Fox, academic coordinator at the Hampton PLC, hands Tyriq Jones his diploma.

Credit-recovery and online programs have been accused of low standards and a weak-tea curriculum, anything to get kids into the graduation statistics, critics contend. But the PLCs insist on the rigor of their program because it’s based on a general-education curriculum, not a credit-recovery curriculum. PLC students take the same state tests as their traditional-school peers. And computer testing on NovaNET and other online curricula prevents social promotion or the intervention of soft-hearted administrators. “We legally graduate kids; I don’t do them any favors,” said Wes Hamner at Richmond Tech PLC.

In a report on the 2009–10 school year, the project says that, nationally, its students improved their scores in all four core subjects compared to their performance in their home school the year before—by from 6 to 11 percentage points—and that 96 percent of the students classified as seniors at the beginning of the school year graduated. For a project that works with potential dropouts, that’s hugely impressive, but there has been little outside research on the PLCs that would confirm that.

The results at the Virginia PLCs are equally ambiguous. In 2009–10, the 432 youngsters who attended the four schools arrived with D averages in math, English, science, and social studies, and, except for math—which was still stuck in the basement—raised them to a C. But the averages include the 30 percent of kids who dropped out, switched to a GED program, or left for some other reason, probably lowering the grades.

After experiencing little success in a traditional high school, Tyriq Hasan Jones graduated in June 2011 from the Hampton PLC.

The PLCs also reported that 96 percent of their students passed Virginia’s end-of-course algebra exams, 97 percent passed reading, 90 percent passed biology, and 100 percent passed writing. That would put the PLCs ahead of state averages in all four subjects. (The results say a lot about Virginia’s learning standards: Is it really possible that only 6 percent of the state’s 400,000 high schoolers failed reading and 6 percent failed Algebra I last year?) The scores of PLC students are included in the results of their home schools, which makes them difficult to verify. The PLCs also don’t accept English-language learners, kids with discipline problems or most disabilities, or those with elementary-level reading and math abilities, as other public schools must, which muddies the comparison.

Still, more than one-third of the youngsters who started at the Virginia PLCs in fall 2009 graduated in 2010, including 68 students who headed to two- or four-year colleges, the Virginia project reported.

When I spoke with Chelsie Saunders in Hampton in early spring, she laid out a career path that included community college, university, and then a career in teaching or nursing. “Honestly, if it wasn’t for here, I wouldn’t graduate,” she told me. When I checked back in June, she had.

June Kronholz is a former Wall Street Journal foreign correspondent, bureau chief, and education reporter, and currently a contributing editor at Education Next.

Which is why I can’t understand why the organization continues to be so wrong about one of the most consequential developments in education today: The National Council on Teacher Quality’s review of education schools nationwide.

First there was Chad Adelman (since promoted to the U.S. Department of Education), who complained that NCTQ’s study wasn’t focused enough on outcomes:

Absent some objective outcome measures, NCTQ will only be assessing inputs to teacher quality…. There will be no mechanism to determine if all of the box-checking that NCTQ will be assessing has actually produced effective teachers.

You don’t say! As Chad acknowledges, NCTQ has been at the forefront of the push for states to collect value-added data linking ed schools with their graduates’ results in the classroom. A handful of states are starting to do that. But what about the other 45+ states? Should NCTQ sit on its hands until the data become available? Isn’t Chad’s argument just one for giving the ed schools a pass?

Then, last week, Sarah Rosenberg asked whether “anyone at home” really cares about this “report card.”

NCTQ and its supporters believe that clear standards and transparent evaluation will encourage schools to improve their teacher preparation programs and, in turn, their ratings.  For that theory of change to work, a school’s rating must trigger market response: A school of education that receives a high rating should see more students apply as well as more districts interested in partnering with the school and hiring its graduates.  The extent to which NCTQ’s national ratings matter will depend on whether districts and prospective teachers make decisions based on the ratings. The local nature of teacher labor markets makes it unlikely that this will happen in many parts of the country—will anyone in Weldon, NC really care that their one nearby school of education was rated poorly?

Sarah goes on to acknowledge that the “market response” may work OK in urban areas with multiple ed schools—districts may eschew the lousy ones. But since most suburban and rural districts hire from nearby colleges, this market mechanism won’t mean a thing in much of the country.

Maybe. But NCTQ is after much more than just a market response. The study is often billed as the “Flexner Report” for education—referring to a study of medical schools 100 years ago that led to the shuttering of hundreds of them. Yes, I am sure NCTQ wants the “average” ed school to get better. But more than anything else it wants the abysmal ed schools to go out of business. And that will take action by the states—action that is a whole lot more likely if NCTQ calls them out publicly.

So Education Sector, how about a little less skepticism, and a little more love, for one of the gutsiest projects in education reform history?

-Mike Petrilli

If principals have the authority to dismiss teachers, will they dismiss the less effective ones, or will they instead make perverse decisions by letting the good teachers go? Evidence from low-stakes surveys suggests that principals are able to identify the most and least effective teachers in their schools, as measured by their impact on student achievement (see “When Principals Rate Teachers,” research, Spring 2006). But would that ability influence their dismissal decisions?

On this topic, debate has been vigorous but research almost nil, in good part because teachers with tenure are not easily dismissed and principals take on that task only if they have a strong backbone or face an extremely urgent situation, or both. In some instances, however, principals have considerable latitude when it comes to dismissing teachers who have not been in service long enough to have earned tenure.

One such situation developed in Chicago in July 2004 when the Chicago Public Schools (CPS) and the Chicago Teachers Union signed a new collective-bargaining agreement that gave principals the flexibility to dismiss probationary (nontenured) teachers beginning in the 2004–05 school year for any reason and without the documentation and hearing process that is typically required for dismissals in other districts. Since CPS provided information that allowed me to link information on CPS teacher dismissals to several measures of teacher performance, I was able to study whether principals exercise their authority wisely. The procedures were fairly straightforward. By comparing the characteristics of dismissed versus nondismissed probationary teachers within the same school and year, I was able to determine just how much weight school administrators place on a variety of teacher characteristics, including their performance in the classroom.

I find that principals in Chicago do exercise their authority in  sensible ways. Principals are more likely to dismiss teachers who are frequently absent and who have previously received poor evaluations. They dismiss elementary school teachers who are less effective in raising student achievement. Principals are also less likely to dismiss teachers who attended competitive undergraduate colleges. It is interesting to note that dismissed teachers who were subsequently hired by a different school are much more likely than other first-year teachers in their new school to be dismissed again.

These results suggest that other school districts could possibly improve student achievement if they adopted policies similar to those applied in Chicago. To be clear, however, the analysis presented in this paper does not seek to evaluate the educational impact of this new policy. Instead, it uses the existence of the policy, in conjunction with detailed data on teachers and principals, to provide descriptive evidence on the relationship between the exercise of dismissal authority and teacher effectiveness.

Teacher Dismissals in Chicago

As in many public school districts, teacher layoffs and dismissals in CPS are highly regulated. Prior to 2004, virtually no teachers—not even probationary teachers—were dismissed for cause in CPS. Of course, it is likely that some teachers who switched schools or left CPS entirely were informally “counseled out” by school administrators. But it was impossible to distinguish these “involuntary” separations from truly voluntary attrition.

This situation changed with the signing of a new collective-bargaining agreement in 2004. Each February, principals are able to log into a district computer system that has a list of all of the probationary teachers in their school (i.e., those who have been teaching for fewer than five consecutive years during the period of my analysis). The principal can then check one of two boxes: renew or nonrenew. Although principals are required to provide district officials with at least one reason for the nonrenewal decision, they are not required to justify or explain their decision and they do not need to provide teachers with this reason. If a principal chooses nonrenew, the teacher may reapply to positions in other Chicago public schools. However, nonrenewed teachers are not guaranteed another job in CPS. The ease with which administrators can dismiss a probationary teacher, with a simple “click” of a button, is noteworthy. This policy change made Chicago the only large school district in the country to provide principals with this degree of flexibility over personnel decisions. Already since the conclusion of the analysis period for this study (2005 through 2007), this flexibility has diminished in several ways. For example, the probationary period has been reduced from 4 to 3 years, and principals who choose to nonrenew a teacher now must have conducted at least one formal observation of the teacher prior to nonrenewal.

Data

The data for my study of this policy change come from several sources. Teacher personnel files provide information on teacher background, current assignment, and, for probationary teachers, whether or not they were renewed. I supplement this with information on school demographics, principal characteristics from personnel files, and student test-score information.

I examine dismissal among probationary teachers in CPS in three consecutive school years: 2004–05, 2005–06, and 2006–07. The sample excludes individuals who were employed by the central office, including speech pathologists, nurses, counselors, and teachers working in administrative or professional development capacities. Moreover, I exclude teachers in a handful of “alternative” schools that serve severely disabled students or other special populations, as well as teachers on leave or who were employed less than half time. For a small number of teachers who taught subjects such as art or music in multiple schools, I include only the observation in the school that is listed as their “primary” appointment. The final sample consists of 16,246 elementary school teachers and 7,764 high school teachers spread across 588 schools.

Measures of Teacher Quality

This analysis incorporates three proxies for teacher performance. First, I use teacher absences because they are well measured, are easy to interpret, and impose substantial nonfinancial and financial costs on the school. The second measure is the formal performance rating that the principal gave the teacher in prior years. Traditionally, principals rate teachers every one to three years (depending on the tenure status of the teacher) on a four-point scale that indicates superior, excellent, satisfactory, or unsatisfactory performance. While there are no high stakes associated with these ratings (virtually no teachers receive an unsatisfactory rating), there is considerable variation across teachers in the top rating categories, and they arguably provide a sense of how the principal views the teacher. The third measure is a value-added estimate of teacher effectiveness. This measure is meant to capture the extent to which each teacher contributes to student achievement growth from one year to the next, as measured by the standardized tests taken by students in CPS. While this is an objective and direct measure of one important dimension of teacher effectiveness, only a fraction of teachers work in grades and subjects in which students take standardized tests. It is not possible to calculate value-added measures for many teachers in our sample, including teachers in grade 2 or below, most teachers in grades 10 or above, and any teacher in a noncore subject. Unlike some school districts, Chicago traditionally has not maintained reliable data linking teachers to classrooms, particularly at the elementary level. Working with CPS officials, however, I was able to obtain such links for a limited sample of teachers and years, thus allowing me to create value-added measures for part of my sample.

Methods

The primary goal of my analysis is to determine which teacher, principal, and school characteristics are associated with the likelihood that a teacher will be dismissed. I first compare the probability that a teacher is dismissed across schools and years in order to discern any differences related to school characteristics. Then to examine the influence of teacher characteristics on the likelihood of dismissal, I compare teachers within the same year and school to account for unobserved school-level factors that might be correlated with teacher characteristics and the probability of dismissal.

A concern with this approach is that if the analysis fails to include a teacher characteristic that a) principals consider in the dismissal decision and b) is correlated with one of the included variables, the estimate for the included characteristic may be biased. One potentially important variant of this concern involves the supply of teachers. If it is more difficult to find qualified teachers in certain subjects or grade levels, then the principal may be less likely to dismiss teachers in these areas. To the extent that teachers in harder-to-staff areas are concentrated among particular demographic groups, or tend to graduate from particular institutions, the results for these teacher characteristics could be misleading. Also, schools fund teachers from a variety of revenue streams, and it may be difficult for principals to reallocate positions across funds. For this reason, if a school experiences a decline in a particular revenue fund, the principal may be more inclined to dismiss teachers funded by this source.

To address these concerns, I account in all analyses for the teacher’s program area (for example, regular education grades 1 to 3, regular education grades 4 to 8, secondary math, secondary science, bilingual education, vocational education, etc.) and for the revenue source from which each teacher position is funded.

Of course, it is still possible that my results concerning specific teacher characteristics suffer from a standard omitted variable bias. For example, it may be the case that high rates of absenteeism are associated with a bad attitude or shirking in other dimensions, and it is these factors, rather than the absences per se, that the principal is reacting to in dismissing teachers with more absences. In this case, one may not be able to say anything definitive about principal views regarding teacher absenteeism itself, but rather about behaviors and characteristics associated with absenteeism, all of which presumably speak to performance in some form or another.

Dismissal Policy Impact

Each year under the new policy, roughly 11 percent of probationary teachers were dismissed, despite the fact that more than one-third of schools did not dismiss any teachers. The numbers of teachers who were nonrenewed in any given year likely overstates the impact of the policy because a number of young teachers would likely have left CPS in the absence of the policy, either voluntarily or due to subtle “encouragement” on the part of the principals. If the dismissal policy merely formalized previously informal dismissals, however, then one would not necessarily expect to find a substantial change in separations.

Comparing dismissal rates before and after implementation of the new policy provides insight on this issue. In the three years prior to the introduction of the policy, roughly 10 to 15 percent of first-year probationary teachers left CPS and an additional 4 percent moved to a different CPS school. In the years after the policy was in place, the corresponding rates were roughly 18 and 10 percent, respectively. Comparing the year immediately prior to establishment of the policy (2004) with the first two years of the policy’s implementation (2005 and 2006), it appears that the separation rate increased by roughly 9 percentage points (see Figure 1). In contrast, there was virtually no change among more-experienced teachers (i.e., those with 6 to 15 years of experience), who were not subject to the policy. The dismissal policy therefore appears to have had at least a modest impact on the number of teacher separations, although the impact is not as large as the overall nonrenewal numbers would suggest.

It is worth noting that more than half of the dismissed teachers were rehired the following year by another school in the district. For example, 50.6 percent and 56.4 percent of first-year probationary elementary and high school teachers, respectively, who were dismissed in spring 2005 were rehired by a CPS school in the fall. At least some of the dismissals under the policy were the result of position cuts, in which case the teacher’s former principal may have provided the teacher with a good recommendation; it is therefore not surprising that some fraction of dismissed teachers were rehired. It is also likely that some fraction of teachers dismissed due to poor performance were also rehired by other CPS schools.

Which school and principal characteristics are related to dismissal? In both elementary and secondary schools, principals in the district’s larger schools dismissed a smaller fraction of probationary teachers. In elementary schools, higher student achievement at the school is associated with a smaller fraction of probationary teachers being dismissed. Among high schools, however, schools with higher-achieving students dismissed a larger fraction of their probationary teachers. Principals who attended more competitive colleges and principals who were older dismissed a smaller proportion of teachers in both elementary and high schools. Male high-school principals dismissed a significantly smaller percentage of their teachers, while principal gender did not play as important a role at the elementary level. Finally, principals new to the building dismissed a substantially larger fraction of teachers in elementary schools, but not in high schools.

Teacher Characteristics

Turning to the characteristics of individual teachers, I find that prior-year principal evaluations and current-year teacher absences both influence the likelihood of dismissal (see Figure 2). Teachers who were rated satisfactory in the prior academic year were 22.1 percentage points more likely to be nonrenewed than teachers in the same school who were rated superior. Teachers rated excellent were 4.3 percentage points more likely to be dismissed than those rated superior. Given an average dismissal rate of roughly 11 percent, these results suggest that teacher performance as reflected in prior evaluations is strongly associated with dismissal. Teachers who were absent 11 to 20 times between September and March of the current year were also 11.3 percentage points more likely to be nonrenewed than their colleagues who were never absent. Teachers absent 6 to 10 days were 3.5 percentage points more likely to be dismissed.

The results also indicate that principals value teachers with stronger educational backgrounds as measured by college quality. For example, a teacher who attended a highly competitive college (with a Barron’s ranking of four) is nearly 3 percentage points (roughly 15 percent) less likely to be dismissed than a teacher who attended a least-competitive (unrated) college. On the other hand, on average, principals do not seem to value certification exam performance or advanced degrees, at least after taking into account the other available measures of teacher performance.

Interestingly, probationary teachers who were dismissed from another school in the prior year, and rehired by the current school, are substantially more likely to be dismissed a second time. For example, elementary school teachers who were dismissed from another school in the prior year were 4.9 percentage points (about 45 percent) more likely to be let go relative to first-year teachers in the school. In high school, previously dismissed teachers were 13.4 percentage points (more than 130 percent) more likely to be dismissed than first-year teachers. These results suggest that many of the initial nonrenewal decisions were not idiosyncratic, stemming from a particularly bad match, or based on temporary difficulties experienced by the teacher. Rather, they suggest that, at least in many cases, the initial nonrenewal decision reflected a concern with the teacher’s general productivity.

These results provide evidence that principals consider some measures of teacher performance and qualifications in making their dismissal decisions. To the extent that one views student achievement as the primary outcome of interest, however, one should directly assess how a teacher’s ability to improve student achievement influences the likelihood of dismissal. I provide some evidence on this issue by focusing on the relationship between teacher value-added and dismissal for the subsample of 803 elementary school and 1,134 high school teachers for which value-added measures are available.

For elementary schools, a one-standard-deviation increase in teacher value-added is associated with a 7.1-percentage-point (over 100 percent) decrease in the likelihood of dismissal (see Figure 3). In contrast, I find that teacher value-added has zero association with dismissal among the sample of 9th-grade core-subject teachers in high schools. One possible reason for the difference across grade levels is that the assessment used for the 9th-grade value-added measure is the PLAN test, which is given in the fall of a student’s 10th-grade year. PLAN is developed by ACT and is not tightly linked to any particular curriculum. Hence, because of both the timing of the exam and its content, the 9th-grade value-added measures may not capture teacher effectiveness as well as the elementary value-added measures.

Do Principals Discriminate?

One potential concern about policies like Chicago’s that provide principals with greater discretion in personnel decisions is that principals would dismiss teachers capriciously or on the basis of criteria unrelated to performance. Indeed, I find that several teacher demographics, including age, gender, and race, are associated with the likelihood of dismissal, even after controlling for the measures of teacher performance and qualifications described above. Principals are 3.8 percentage points more likely to dismiss male teachers than female teachers, an effect of more than 25 percent given the baseline dismissal rate of 10 to 12 percent. Principals are considerably more likely to dismiss older teachers. For example, teachers 36 to 50 years of age are 4 percentage points (33 percent) more likely to be dismissed than teachers age 22 to 28. The relatively small number of probationary teachers over age 50 is 10 percentage points (nearly 100 percent) more likely to face dismissal than their youngest counterparts. And black teachers are 2.1 percentage points less likely to be dismissed than their colleagues.

While these results raise some concerns, it would be incorrect to conclude on the basis of this evidence alone that principals in Chicago were acting in a discriminatory manner. The analysis reported here cannot control for many direct measures of teacher qualities that principals could legitimately consider in making a dismissal decision (e.g., energy, enthusiasm, ability to relate to children, familiarity with the best instructional practices). Moreover, the sample selection introduced by nonrandom hiring may lead to biased estimates of the relationship between dismissal and any easily observable, predetermined teacher characteristic such as age or gender. If, for example, male teachers were less productive on average than female teachers (or even if the principal believed this to be the case), then the marginal male teacher who was hired must be more attractive on some other, likely unobservable, dimension relative to the marginal female teacher hired.

In order to shed light on the issue of principal discrimination, I examine whether principals are more likely to dismiss teachers of a different gender, age, or race from their own. Although principals are no more likely to dismiss a teacher of the opposite gender, they are somewhat more likely to dismiss teachers of a different race. While these patterns could indicate discrimination, it is possible that they are explained by other factors. Given the widespread belief that same-race role models are crucial for low-income students, it would not be surprising if principals took into account the composition of their student body when making dismissal decisions. Indeed, insofar as prior research has demonstrated that, all else equal, students learn more when taught by a teacher of the same race, this might be a legitimate determination on the part of the principal. My results provide support for this hypothesis. I find that as the fraction of students in the school that share the race of the teacher rises, the likelihood that the teacher will be dismissed declines. Specifically, an increase of 50 percentage points in the fraction of students who share the teacher’s race decreases the likelihood that the teacher will be dismissed by slightly more than 1 percentage point, or 10 percent. More importantly, the evidence that principals are more likely to dismiss a teacher of a different race becomes statistically insignificant after controlling for this variable.

Finally, I find evidence that younger principals are more likely to dismiss older teachers than they are to dismiss younger teachers. There are no obvious explanations for this pattern, although one might speculate that younger principals may value different characteristics in a teacher than older principals. Regardless, this pattern does seem to warrant further exploration.

Conclusions

By comparing the characteristics of dismissed versus nondismissed probationary teachers within the same school and year, the analysis presented above provides a unique source of evidence on which teacher characteristics principals value most highly. I find that principals do consider teacher performance in determining which teachers to dismiss. Principals are significantly more likely to dismiss teachers who are frequently absent and who have received unsatisfactory evaluations in the past. Perhaps most telling, elementary school teachers who were dismissed had significantly lower impacts on student achievement in prior years than their peers who were not dismissed.

These results suggest that reforms along the lines of the Chicago policy could improve student achievement by providing principals with the tools to manage the quality of personnel in their classrooms. It should be noted, however, that many principals—including those in some of the worst-performing schools in the district—did not dismiss any teachers despite the new policy. The apparent reluctance of some Chicago principals to utilize the additional flexibility granted under the new contract may indicate that issues such as teacher supply and/or social norms governing employment relations are more important factors than policymakers have realized.

Brian Jacob is professor of education policy and economics at the University of Michigan. This article is based on a study that is forthcoming in Educational Evaluation and Policy Analysis.

According to Stern,

On a battery of reading tests, the kindergartners in the Core Knowledge program had achieved gains five times greater than those of students in the control group. The second-year study showed that the Core Knowledge kids made reading gains twice as great as those of students in the control group.

This is no surprise to fans of E.D. Hirsch, whose research over the last 25 years (from Cultural Literacy (1987) to The Making of Americans (2010)), has shown that teaching children a wide-ranging but comprehensive content heavy curriculum actually improves reading more than teaching reading skills does.  As Robert Pondiscio of the Core Knowledge Foundation explains it,

Two large (and largely overlooked) problems remain at the root of the reading crisis:  a lack of a coherent elementary school curriculum, and a stubborn insistence on teaching and testing reading comprehension as a how-to “skill.”  Comprehension is highly correlated with general knowledge—the more you know, the greater your ability to read, write, speak and listen with fluency and comprehension.  Thus an essential component of reading comprehension instruction must be a focused commitment to build broad background knowledge in a coherent manner from the earliest days of schools–precisely what CKLA seeks to do.

Stern emphasizes,

Among Hirsch’s insights is that disadvantaged kids quickly fall behind in reading because of inadequate background knowledge; therefore, imparting such knowledge in the early grades is even more important than conveying basic reading skills.

Coincidentally, Stern’s Daily News op-ed was published at the same time as a front-page story in Education Week reported a new push to improve P-2 reading. Unfortunately, though, according to Catherine Gewertz’s account, the increased efforts in these lower grades seem to emphasize the same skill-oriented approaches that have proven so unsuccessful in the higher grades. Indeed, despite Herculean efforts and many millions of dollars spent to improve reading skills (drill-and-kill phonics, etc.), the National Assessment of Educational Progress 4^th- and 8^th-grade reading scores have been flat for 30 years – flat at very low levels. As Gewertz points out, the latest NAEP (2009) showed that “only one-third of 4^th graders scored at or above `proficient.’”

It is discouraging that our education system seems so blind to good ideas.  As Stern writes about the Gotham experiment, “Keeping this potential breakthrough alive would cost a mere $300,000 per year – which seems a far smarter investment than the $70 million paid in bonuses to teachers and principals who produced zero reading gains.”

Let’s hope that New York City will see the light.  More importantly, let’s hope that educators all over the country start to realize that planting healthy content seeds will a produce a bumper crop of good readers.

–Peter Meyer

Calls to reform teacher layoff policies have begun to appear with regularity in newspaper editorials, policy briefs, and statehouses—and for good reason. A growing body of research confirms that teacher quality is the most influential in-school factor driv­ing student achievement. That being the case, teacher dismissal policies and procedures can have profound implications for how much students learn.

Newly available data on “reduction-in-force” (RIF) notices received by teachers in Washington State shed light on the consequences of existing layoff policies for student achievement as well as the consequences of adopting alternatives. Our analysis of these data provides strong evidence that seniority plays an out­sized role in determining which teachers are targeted for layoffs, likely in part because collective bargaining agreements ordinarily require that the teachers last hired are the first to be fired. Those in subject areas with teacher shortages, such as mathematics and sci­ence, are less likely than other teachers to receive a lay­off notice, suggesting that districts have some degree of flexibility in their dismissal procedures. However, were districts to adopt policies that allowed admin­istrators to dismiss teachers according to their effec­tiveness rather than their seniority, they could lay off fewer teachers, achieve the same budgetary savings, and increase the overall efficacy of their teaching force.

Seniority-Based Layoff Policies

In the overwhelming majority of school-district collective bargaining agreements, “last in, first out” provisions make seniority the determining factor in which teachers are laid off. All of the 75 largest school districts in the nation use seniority as a factor in layoff decisions, and seniority is the sole factor determining the order of layoffs in more than 70 percent of these districts.

The situation in Washington State—the focus of this study—looks similar. A review of the collective bargaining agreements operating in Washington’s 10 largest school districts shows that all use seniority as a basis for determining layoffs, and 8 of these districts use seniority as the only determinant of which teachers get laid off.

There are notable examples of districts that do not rely solely on seniority. In 2004, the Chi­cago Public Schools changed its policies to allow principals’ evaluations of untenured teachers to influence layoff decisions (see “Principled Principals” research). And the Los Angeles Unified School District recently agreed to limit the use of seniority in layoff determinations as part of a settlement in a lawsuit brought by the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU). Over the past two years, more than a dozen states have sought to change laws that make seniority the determining factor in layoff decisions; so far, Florida, Idaho, Utah, and Ohio have succeeded.

Driving these changes is a belief that seniority-based layoff policies may have negative consequences for student achieve­ment. First, to achieve a targeted budget reduction, school districts need to lay off a greater number of junior teachers than senior teachers (as junior teachers have lower salaries), meaning that a seniority-based layoff policy will cause class sizes to rise more than they would under an alternate arrange­ment. Second, the most-senior teachers may not be the most effective teachers. With a seniority-based layoff policy, school systems may be forced to cut some of their most promising new talent rather than dismiss more-senior teachers, who may not be terribly effective in raising student achievement. A final way in which seniority-based systems may have consequences for student achievement is that strict adherence to seniority would require at least some districts to lay off teachers in subject areas with teacher shortages, such as math and special education.

Beyond the effects of seniority-based layoffs on the teacher workforce as a whole are potential distributional conse­quences. In many districts, schools with high proportions of at-risk students tend to employ the most first- and second-year teachers. Under a seniority-based layoff policy, these schools stand to lose the largest share of their teachers.

Data

This study relies on a unique dataset from Washington State that links teachers to their schools and, in some cases, to their students; the dataset also includes information on those teachers who received RIF notices in the 2008–09 and 2009–10 school years. In the 2008–09 school year, 2,144 employees received a layoff notice and in 2009–10, some 450 employees received a notice.

Employees who received these notices can be linked with administrative records of their credentials, school assignments, academic degrees, and compensation. The administrative database we used provides a record of employees working in Washington State’s school districts and includes information such as their places of employ­ment, experience and degree, gender and race, and annual compensation levels.

We restrict our analysis to employees who were in a teach­ing position the year they received a layoff notice. Our final sample includes 1,717 teachers who received a layoff notice in 2008–09 and 407 teachers who received one in 2009–10, with 130 teachers who received a layoff notice in both school years. Overall, about 2 percent of teachers in the state received a layoff notice in either year. It is important to stress that not all these teachers were ultimately laid off, largely due to the influx of federal stimulus money. Of the 1,717 teach­ers who received a RIF notice in 2008-09, for example, 1,457 returned to the same district in 2009-10. We still focus on all RIF notices because they indicate the teachers who were targeted for layoffs, and thus tell us about the likely effects of the system that governs layoffs.

The database does not include a direct measure of a teach­er’s seniority in the current district, so we estimate seniority based on how many years the teacher has been employed by the same district. The credentials data include where each teacher was trained and in what areas each teacher holds endorsements. We create a measure of the selectivity of each teacher’s college and code each endorsement a teacher holds in any of 10 subject areas.

Information about the schools in which teachers are employed comes from two sources. Washington State Report Card data provide measures of racial composition, student-teacher ratios, the percentages of students enrolled in the free or reduced-price meals program, total enrollment, and the percentage of students who passed the reading and math Washington Assessment of Student Learning exams in each teacher’s school. We use the Common Core of Data to iden­tify teachers in urban areas, the grade level of each teacher’s school, and the per-pupil expenditure on instruction by each teacher’s district.

We can also link a subset of teachers to their students’ test-score performance, which allows us to use value-added models to estimate their teaching effectiveness. Our data on student achievement come from the Washington State Assessment of Student Learning, a statewide test given annually in 3rd through 8th grade as well as in 10th grade. The student database also includes information on race and ethnicity, free or reduced-price meal eligibility, and status in the following programs: Learning Assistance Program reading/math, Title I reading/math, Title I Migrant, Gifted/Highly Capable, State Transitional Bilingual Program, and Special Education.

Methods

We first examine the simple associations between the various teacher and school characteristics listed above and the likelihood of receiving a layoff notice. In order to provide a more detailed picture of the factors that are associated with teacher layoff notices, we then examine the effects of each of these various factors on the prob­ability that a teacher received a layoff notice, while con­trolling for the others. Of course, these relationships are correlations only and in theory may not represent causal relationships. However, we are confident that, despite the nonexperimental nature of this study, its findings none­theless provide an accurate picture of the causal impact of, for instance, a teacher’s credential on the likelihood of receiving a layoff notice.

The teacher characteristics that we examine include senior­ity in district, degree level (master’s or higher vs. bachelor’s), gender, race, college selectivity, and endorsement area. The school characteristics include whether it is in an urban area, grade level (e.g., high school), the number of students enrolled, student-teacher ratio, the percentage of students who are eli­gible for the free or reduced-price lunch program, the percent­age of minority students, and measures of student achievement in reading and math. In addition, we control for district-level characteristics, including total enrollment, per-pupil expendi­tures, and percentage of funding that comes from local, state, and federal sources.

These analyses identify the teacher, school, and district characteristics that are associated with layoff notices, but perhaps of greater interest is the relative effectiveness of teachers who receive layoff notices. For the subset of teach­ers who can be linked to students, we are able to estimate value-added measures of classroom performance for each teacher in each year. These indicate how well a teacher’s students did relative to other teachers’ students, controlling for prior student achievement and for student and fam­ily background characteristics (for example, age, race and ethnicity, disability, free or reduced-price lunch status, and parental education level).

Who Gets RIFed?

Not surprisingly, we find that most of the teachers receiving layoff notices are relatively junior. Approximately 60 percent of teachers receiving layoff notices have two or fewer years of experience, and approximately 80 percent have two or fewer years of seniority within their current district. It is interesting to note, however, that some teachers who receive layoff notices are well into their careers, implying that at least some districts in the state are making judgments about which teachers should be laid off based on criteria other than seniority.

Teachers who received layoff notices are also far less likely to hold an advanced degree. Consequently, there is an aver­age difference of about $15,000 in salary between teachers who did and did not receive notices. Had all 1,717 teachers who received layoff notices in 2008–09 actually been laid off, the salary savings in the state would have been $5,521,238. As noted earlier, one of the prevail­ing critiques of seniority-based layoffs is that it is necessary to lay off more teachers in order to attain a specified budget objective than it would be if districts used alternative criteria. If teach­ers were laid off at random (so that the laid-off teachers made the average salary in their dis­trict), we estimate that it would only be neces­sary to lay off 1,349 teachers in order to attain the same budgetary savings. This is roughly 20 percent less than the actual number of teachers who received layoff notices.

According to the 2006 report “Educator Supply and Demand in Washington State,” there are 14 endorsement areas for which there are “high degrees of shortage,” all of which fall into math, science, or special education. We classify any teacher with an endorsement in one of these areas accordingly. There is some evidence to suggest that school districts are choosing to retain teachers in subject areas with teacher shortages, with 13.3 per­cent of teachers that received layoff notices falling into such a category compared to 15.1 percent of teachers who did not receive a notice.

Teachers receiving a notice tended to be in smaller schools, but were not, in general, more likely to be teaching in schools with high proportions of minority students or lower test-score levels. However, school-level measures can mask a significant degree of teacher sorting across classrooms within schools. For the subset of teachers who can be linked to their students, we find that teachers who received a layoff notice are more likely to be teaching poor, non-white, and lower-scoring students than other teachers.

We next examine our value-added measures of teacher effectiveness and find that teachers who received layoff notices were about 5 percent of a standard deviation less effective on average than the average teacher who did not receive a notice. This result is not surprising given that teach­ers who received layoff notices included many first- and second-year teachers, and numerous studies show that, on average, effectiveness improves substantially over a teacher’s first few years of teaching.

Explaining RIFs

Our analysis of multiple factors indicates that, as expected, seniority plays an important role in determining whether teachers receive a layoff notice. We find additional evi­dence that districts are choosing to retain teachers thought to have advanced or atypical skills. On average, teachers with a master’s degree or an endorsement in a subject area with teacher shortages are about 0.6 percentage points less likely to receive a RIF notice. Conversely, teachers with endorsements in health, physical education, or the arts are far more likely to receive a layoff notice. Finally, we find evidence that school districts behave strategically by retaining teachers who have endorsements in multiple areas and therefore provide flexibility in terms of the classes they can teach. Perhaps surprisingly, controlling for district and school characteristics does not noticeably change the results reported above, and few of the school-level vari­ables identifying student demographics are predictors of which teachers receive layoff notices.

Finally, we ran our analysis including value-added measures of teacher effective­ness for the subset of teachers we are able to link to individual students. It is first worth noting that the inclusion of the teacher effec­tiveness measures does little to change the estimated effects of the teacher, school, and district characteristics discussed above. More importantly, the effects of the value-added measures (based on both math and read­ing scores) are close to zero, suggesting that effectiveness plays little or no role in deter­mining which teachers are targeted for lay­offs. And, these results were robust to a vari­ety of different ways of measuring teacher value added. In other words, the fact that teachers who received layoff notices were, on average, somewhat less effective than their peers is an artifact of the relationship between effectiveness and seniority.

Policy Implications

Our findings largely comport with what one would expect given seniority provisions in collective bargaining agree­ments. The surprise is that factors other than seniority do appear to influence which teachers are targeted for layoffs.

To get a more concrete sense of the extent to which various factors play into the targeting of teachers for layoffs, we ran simulations based on the effects calculated by our statistical model. First, we calculate the expected probability of a teacher with each combination of endorsement area and seniority level receiving a layoff notice. Although a teacher’s endorse­ment area does affect the likelihood of being laid off, the effect is far smaller than the influence of seniority. For instance, we estimate the probability that a first-year special education teacher receives a layoff notice is 6.2 percent, compared to 17 percent for a first-year health/physical education teacher. This difference is statistically significant, but it pales in com­parison to the difference in probability for a first-year teacher compared to a teacher with 12 or more years of seniority: The estimated probability of a teacher with 12 or more years of seniority receiving a layoff notice is less than one-quarter of 1 percent for every endorsement area (see Figure 1).

Next we examine the implications of employing an effec­tiveness-based layoff policy rather than the seniority-driven system currently in place. First, we calculate a value-added measure of effectiveness that com­bines data from all available years and both sub­jects (averaging math and reading). Teachers in each school district are then ranked accord­ing to this value-added score. Finally, starting with the least effective teachers in each district and moving up the effectiveness ladder, enough teachers are assigned to a hypothetical layoff pool to achieve a budgetary savings for each district that is at least as great as the budgetary savings each district would have seen had all the teachers who received a layoff notice in 2008–09 actually been laid off.

The overlap between the subgroup of teach­ers who received a layoff notice and the sub­group of teachers who received one in our simu­lation is relatively small—only 23 teachers (or 16 percent of the teachers for whom we could estimate value-added who received a layoff notice). Moreover, because the teachers who received layoff notices in our simulation were more senior (and had higher salaries) than the teachers who actually received layoff notices, the simulation results in far fewer layoffs. We calcu­late that districts would only have to lay off 132 teachers under an effectiveness-based system in order to achieve the same budgetary savings they would achieve with 145 layoff notices under today’s seniority-driven system, a difference of about 10 percent.

As expected, there are large differences in classroom effec­tiveness between teachers who actually received layoff notices and those who would have received them in our effectiveness-based simulation. The two groups differ by about 20 percent of a standard deviation in students’ math and reading achieve­ment (see Figure 2). The magnitude of the difference is strik­ing, roughly equivalent to having a teacher who is at the 16th percentile of effectiveness rather than at the 50th percentile. This difference corresponds to roughly 2.5 to 3.5 months of student learning.

Since there is little overlap between the samples under these different scenarios, we investigate the likelihood that different types of students might be disproportion­ally affected by one type of layoff system. For the subset of teachers who can be linked to student-level data, we consider the characteristics of the students whose teachers received a layoff notice under the actual system and in our simulation. We find that the probability that students in a particular subgroup have a teacher who received a layoff notice varies considerably from one subgroup to the next. In particular, black students are far more likely than other students to have been in a classroom of a teacher who received a layoff notice. The effectiveness-based layoffs result in fewer layoff notices and are much more equita­bly distributed across student subgroups; black students in particular are only marginally more likely to have been in a classroom with a teacher who received a layoff notice under this system.

Districts across the country are rethinking layoff strate­gies. This is sensible, because although the simplicity and transparency of a seniority-based system certainly has advantages, it is hard to argue that it is in the best interest of students. The effectiveness-based system in our simulation would result in a very different group of teachers targeted for layoffs than does the current system and in layoffs that affect different segments of the student population. Most importantly, the differences in the effectiveness of teach­ers laid off under each type of system have implications for student achievement.

Dan Goldhaber is director of the Center for Education Data and Research at the University of Washington Bothell and a co-editor of Education Finance and Policy. Roddy Theobald is a researcher at the Center for Education Data and Research and doctoral student in statistics at the University of Washington.

The working paper on which this article is based is available here.

If this sounds alien to you, clearly you haven’t signed up for Twitter. This five-year-old phenomenon allows individuals to dash off short comments to their friends, families, professional colleagues, and whoever else might be interested in their stream of consciousness. The technology has already been credited with bringing down oppressive regimes and creating whole new ways of reporting breaking news. It’s a truly open marketplace of ideas, with no editors, gatekeepers, or quality control. So what does it mean for the education debate?

The first thing to understand about Twitter is that most of its messages amount to, “Hey, check this out,” followed by a link to a newspaper article or blog post. It’s a handy device for telling the world (or at least the people in your own world) about news or columns that you find compelling. It’s also a form of self-promotion; quite a few tweets announce posts the tweeter herself has written.

But in the hands of a gifted provocateur, Twitter can be so much more. Take scholar-turned-reform-apostate Diave Ravitch, who according to Klout.com is the most influential tweeter in the education policy space (see sidebar). As Alexander Russo, a freelance writer and blogger, remarked sardonically, “a 72-year-old grandmother has won the Internet.” She’s done it not only by linking to columns and articles she agrees with, but by offering bumper sticker–style statements that tend to set the web aflame. For instance, “Accountability is only for teachers and principals, not for students, families, elected officials, district leadership.” Or: “Last places to go to find out how to ‘reform’ schools: Congress/State Legislature/US Dept of Education.”

Want to follow the top tweeters in education?
Twitter lists made up of the Top 25 Education Policy/Media Tweeters and the
Top 25 Education Tweeters may be found at the Education Next Twitter page.

This might not exactly be H. L. Mencken, but it surely provides raw emotional relief for educators and others who feel besieged by the modern-day reform movement. They “retweet” Ravitch’s rants and, thanks to the multiplication effects of networks, soon tens of thousands of people receive them. In fact, Ravitch’s tweets are so influential that an anonymous someone has created the Twitter handle “@NOTDianeRavitch” to argue the positions held by the education historian before she changed her mind on most education policy issues.
Not that reformers don’t have their own Twitter heroes. Former District of Columbia schools chancellor Michelle Rhee is within striking distance of Ravitch’s influence and serves up a steady diet of can-do reform truisms. Tom Vander Ark, an entrepreneur formerly of the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation, offers an optimistic take on the burgeoning field of online learning. Secretary of Education Arne Duncan promotes his administration’s policies via @arneduncan. And @EdTrust offers its patented progressive take on education and social justice.

It’s hard to know whether all this tweeting adds up to anything significant. Of course, much the same was once said of blogs; now it’s well-accepted that a well-written blog post can be just as influential as a newspaper op-ed. Twitter offers a nonstop stream of views, ideas, opinions, and emotions; get yourself in the flow or be left behind.

So, if we believe these OECD numbers (which the WSJ apparently did in this blog post), U.S. teachers work 15.3% more hours per year than do their colleagues in other developed countries.

But if you believe the OECD comparison I have a lovely bridge to sell to you.  According to the report’s methodological appendix, the method by which the U.S. information was collected was different (and clearly less reliable)  than how it was collected from all of the other countries.  In every country except the U.S. the hours worked was derived from teacher contracts or laws.  But in the U.S. the information was drawn from self-reported responses to a survey of teachers.  (See p. 75 of the appendix).

A valid comparison would require that the information be collected in similar ways across all countries — either we rely upon self-reports in surveys of teachers for all countries or we rely on contractual hours for everyone.  But using self-reports for the U.S. and contractual hours for everyone else produces obvious distortions.  People may be inclined to exaggerate the hours they work in a survey.  And the definition of time worked is ambiguous.  If I think about my students while I am brushing my teeth or running on the treadmill am I working during that time?

We have good reason to suspect that the self-reports from U.S. teachers are over-stated.  If teachers really worked 1,913 hours over 180 days, as the report claims, they would be working 10.63 hours per day.  And the numbers I’ve provided are just for primary school students.  For high schools, the OECD report claims U.S. teachers are working 1,998 hours over 180 days, which works out to 11.1 hours per day.  I know some teachers are very conscientious and work long hours but I simply do not believe that the average high school teacher is working 11.1 hours per day.

I know this might invite the wrath of Diane Ravitch’s Army of Angry Teachers, but I suspect that the average hours worked by U.S. teachers is significantly less than the OECD says (and the WSJ repeats).  And I know that the comparison between U.S. and other countries is flawed by collecting the information from self-reports in the U.S. but from contracts everywhere else.

-Jay P. Greene

Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if school spending (adjusted for cost of living) was driving the differences. After all, you don’t have to be a rocket scientist to notice that Massachusetts and New York spend a ton of money on their schools and California—similar to them in so many other ways—spends a fraction as much.* Perhaps a sense of scarcity in resource-starved states like California encourages school districts to avoid identifying lots of kids for pricey special education services.

So I asked our new research intern (and Koch Fellow) Josh Pierson to run a regression and here’s what he found:

I then asked my friend Marty West, assistant professor at the Harvard Graduate School of Education, to interpret the findings. He wrote:

The correlation between adjusted per pupil spending and ID rates is 0.37 (and highly statistically significant), which means that the relationship can account for 13 percent of the total variation in ID rates. If you look at it in a regression framework, you learn that a one thousand dollar increase in spending is associated with a 0.36 percentage point increase in ID rates. The relationship appears to be fairly linear and does not appear to be driven by outliers (i.e., one or two states with odd data). And weighting the states by their enrollment (so that California contributes more to the estimation than Wyoming) makes the relationship a bit stronger. Finally, controlling for your adjusted household-income variable strengthens the relationship (so that a one thousand dollar increase in ID rates gives you a 0.77 percentage point increase in ID rates). You also see that, controlling for spending, incomes are negatively related to ID rates.

He continues with a warning:

There’s clearly a statistical relationship here, but it is hard to know what to make of it in terms of substance. It could be that better-resourced systems identify more kids because they have the capacity to serve them separately, but even if that were the case there is a lot of variation that it can’t explain (look at Rhode Island and Texas, for example). I think you need to be very careful in how you interpret these data.

I agree; it’s hard to know what to make of these data. But it’s certainly possible that “better-resourced” systems are more willing to identify more students for special-education services. Whether that means that high-spending states are over-identifying kids—or that low-spending states are under-identifying them—is impossible to know, at least from these data. But at least we now have a plausible explanation for the big state-by-state variation. And I can’t help but wonder whether the “New Normal” (most states finding resources much more limited) will drive down identification rates at a fast pace.

Other interpretations?

* I was surprised to learn from the chart above that, after adjusting for cost of living, Massachusetts and New York don’t actually spend all that much money, and Texas is far from stingy. But look at California. Yikes.

-Mike Petrilli

With national media attention, promising — though very preliminary — initial results, and strong public/private support, School of One, though just a few years old, is already being hailed as a national model to expand. But, before talking expansion, we should really understand the actual program model.

First, as I explained in part I, the core of the model is about differentiation — not technology. While technology undergirds School of One, the core problem that the program is trying to solve is age-old: how to effectively teach all students, especially when each enters with a variety of different math backgrounds, skill levels, and interests.

Second, and critical to discussions of expansion or “scaling” School of One, it’s what co-founder Chris Rush described as an “80% solution.” In other words, it’s not a turn-key model, but is meant to be customized to each school. For example:

• Each of the three schools runs the program with a different staffing configuration — based largely on what was in place before the program launched.
• While there are clearly base requirements for both physical space and technology infrastructure, the program doesn’t require a set 1:1 computing environment. Each of the three schools running the program adapts to different quantities and types of computers.
• Schools set the parameters for grading, deciding how to weight assessment-based progress through lessons, homework, participation, and projects.
• Schools set the class schedule, with different schools offering different amounts of class periods (time) in their curriculum. The school I visited offered eight periods per week, while another pilot school offers seven.
• Most importantly, how the school teaching team works, designs collaborative practice, and meshes with the rest of the school (how does it integrate with science classes?) are all going to depend on both the local context and specific educators leading the instruction.

I’m sure that there are many more customizations — small and large — that I didn’t pick up in the tour. Regardless, the main point for expansion is that we shouldn’t think of this as a program that you just plop down and turn-on into a school.

When Rush described the “80% solution,” the analogy he used was an SAP software installation. For those not familiar with the analogy, SAP is so-called enterprise software, used by large public and private organizations to run human resources, inventory, finance and other functions. The main point though, is that you don’t just buy SAP, load it onto your computer system, and go. There’s a great deal of customization, expertise, and training required to make it work. And, when it works it’s great. But when customization is not done well, it can also fail spectacularly.

All of this means that School of One doesn’t fit neatly into our dichotomous narratives around technology and education. It’s neither “teacher-proof,” nor a “teacher job-killer.” It’s very different and we can expect to see a number of experiments around customization, including changes in both the quantity and types of persons running these programs. If done thoughtfully and always with a focus on improving student learning, these types of local adaptations can help us learn a lot about different options for improving instruction and allowing different persons to use their skills in the best ways.

While the need for customization makes expansion more difficult, in the long run, it’s a huge strength. If done well, that means that the School of One concept can apply its technologies and approaches to different local contexts. Importantly, it also means that we don’t have to wait for a full roll-out for individual schools to begin borrowing and tinkering with some of School of One’s underlying innovations — ideas about scheduling, differentiated teacher roles and instruction, student progress, and perhaps, even treating teachers more like surgeons.

-Bill Tucker

Read part I of this series here.

First, some background: School of One is a pilot program that calibrates instruction to each student’s progress.

Currently focused on middle school math, the program’s ambitious goal is to create an adaptable, minute-by-minute learning experience, challenging students just enough to keep them engaged and moving at the right pace. Each afternoon, around 5:00pm, based on the results of that day’s lessons and diagnostic tests, a computer algorithm automatically creates a detailed instructional plan for the next day. If students fall short in grasping a certain concept, for example, the algorithm will devote more time to that goal. If students learn better using some methods as opposed to others — for instance, whole group instruction vs. online tutorials — it adjusts accordingly (more on how it works).

Among the most racially diverse in New York City (34% Asian, 16% Black, 23% Hispanic and 27%), IS 228 first launched School of One as an after-school program in February, 2010. This year, students in grades 6 through 8 are receiving math instruction in the School of One environment.

It’s About Differentiation, Not Technology

While technology undergirds School of One, the core problem that the program is trying to solve is age-old: how to effectively teach all students, especially when each enters with a variety of different math backgrounds, skill levels, and interests. The solution is differentiation — not only for students, but importantly, also among teaching roles.

During our tour, Chris Rush, the program’s co-founder, emphasized that the key cultural mindset that changes with School of One is not the technology, but the way in which the program thinks about student progress. The approach attempts to meet each student at her current level and create as much growth as possible. For a 7th grader working at a 4th grade level, instruction focuses on 4th grade, attempting to lay the foundation so that as the student progresses, he has the fundamental understanding going forward. It’s a big change for many teachers and parents, since it means that 7th grade students are not necessarily getting 7th grade content. And, while each school determines its own grading scheme, Rush notes that grades reflect progress, not absolute performance: “If they are doing what we put in front of them, they get the grade.”

This progress mindset has important implications for how we judge the performance of both teachers and schools. Rush says that first year proficiency scores are not the correct benchmark, since passing the 7th grade test is not the goal for the student starting at a 4th grade level. Yet, making up ground is essential. So, the approach changes conversations with families. If a student needs to catch up, or is moving more slowly than expected, then teachers can provide options. At Boody, for example, some students have elected to forgo a few of the school’s magnet classes to catch up in math. Others learn during after school programs and some are even coming in before school, during a so-called “period zero,” for additional instruction.

Like a Surgeon

Students are used to changing classes and adapting to each teacher’s instructional approach, Rush notes, so neither the technology nor day-to-day instructional changes seem to bother them. For teachers, though, it’s a radical change. Each afternoon at around 5:00pm they find out the next day’s lessons, modality of instruction (whole group, small group, etc.), and students.

But, while it initially sounds crazy, both support and differentiation among teacher roles means that it’s not necessarily more work — just really different. Several key changes allow it to work:

To begin with, the entire math department works as a team, including student teachers. There are roles carved out for each and eventually, the idea is that highly skilled volunteers, such as a retired math professor, could help to support one-to-one instructional aspects of the program. They have a common planning period each day and while each teacher has a different “playlist” for that day’s activities, a sophisticated data system helps them identify and collectively focus on the students that are making slow progress.

Second, teachers are not preparing brand new lessons each night on the fly. Each teacher is assigned a “bucket” of approximately 30-40 lesson areas that they can be expected to teach in that grading period. Some teachers choose to plan these lessons ahead of time. More importantly, they may also get more use out of each of these lessons, allowing them to refine each one and better anticipate student challenges. For instance, instead of prepping a lesson on fractions for October 5th and then once completed, not teaching it again for another year, teachers may teach that same lesson a dozen times over the course of the grading period. Over time, Rush expects to see teachers not only specialize, but also be able to identify specific developmental needs at the lesson or unit level.

Finally, a small tower of drawers with various teaching materials, all prepped ahead of time in anticipation of what teachers might need for that day’s lessons, seemed to symbolize this different approach. Rush noted that one teacher remarked she felt like a surgeon, with a different challenge presented each day, but with all the tools and a team prepped and ready.

-Bill Tucker

More tomorrow on how the School of One model is customized to school conditions and what that may mean for its future expansion and growth.

Indeed, districts are prohibited from even considering costs when designing student education plans. The result has been a steady increase in spending accompanied by remarkably little attention to efficiency. That’s a losing strategy, given that special education spending has grown from 4 percent to 21 percent of total school spending between 1970 and 2005. Stretching the school dollar requires taking a tough look at the efficacy of special ed service delivery alongside other district operations.

State and local officials generally accept this diagnosis in principle. But, when I talk with them, they often want to know where to get started, and how to move forward without asking for legal headaches. Happily, Nate Levenson, the managing director of the District Management Council, has stepped into the breach to offer some guidance. Levenson, a former Massachusetts superintendent and an MBA, penned the new white paper, “Something Has Got to Change: Rethinking Special Education” (Full disclosure: the paper was published by my shop at AEI).

Levenson’s charge: “Districts must tackle the twin challenges of controlling special education costs and improving student achievement. In short, we are asking districts to do more with less.” He draws on long experience as a superintendent and special education consultant to offer a number of field-tested practices for taming out-of-control special education spending while serving students better. Specifically, Levenson offers four pieces of advice to schools and districts: focus on reading and integration with general education, rethink deployment of support staff, design more sophisticated metrics to gauge teacher effectiveness, and employ more strategic management structures.

Levenson shares experiences to illustrate the challenges and explain how superintendents and school boards can confront them. In his own tenure as supe, for instance, he oversaw a program that reduced special ed costs even as the share of special ed students achieving proficiency in a three-year trial program increased by 26 percent in English and 22 percent in math. A few of his recommended solutions:

• a relentless focus on reading, including clear and rigorous grade-level expectations for reading proficiency, frequent measurement, and early identification of struggling readers with immediate and intensive additional instruction, up to 30 extra minutes per day;
• rethinking what special ed students are taught in general education classes to avoid overplacement of special ed students in special classes and keep them in front of the best teachers;
• maximizing class time with content expert teachers.

Nate is also as quick to dismiss widely-held but misguided beliefs surrounding instruction for special ed. For example, he writes, “The largest portion of special education spending goes to special education teachers, who are trained in the law, know how to identify disabilities, and are steeped in theories of learning. They are not, however, trained in math, English, or reading, even though most of a special education teacher’s day…is spent providing academic instruction.” He flags one district where special ed teachers provided 100 percent of extra reading help even though only five percent of the teachers had been trained to teach reading.

Also in for some tough medicine is the practice of co-teaching, where a special ed teacher is paired with a general ed teacher in a regular classroom for students with and without disabilities. Levenson writes, “Co-teaching is like dieting. Lots of people want to lose weight and look good in a bathing suit, but actually doing so is hard.”

Levenson concludes with a handful of policy recs. These include focusing regulatory oversight on outcomes rather than inputs, collecting different and smarter types of data, and creating unambiguous standards for student eligibility and services. Anyway, check it out, if you’re so inclined. I’d say it’s interesting reading for most, but essential reading for school board members, supes, and school leaders trying to close budget shortfalls without compromising educational quality.

-Frederick Hess

(This post also appears on Rick Hess Straight Up.)

We’ve written here and here about the importance figuring out as a nation how to “extend the reach” of great teachers to more students, since great teachers accountable for student learning are the one “intervention” we know can close achievement gaps and raise the bar for all students.  Khan Academy represents a potential “double-dose” of reach extension.  The hype emphasizes one of the two “doses” – the potential of videos of a super-instructor like Khan to reach millions of kids, what we call “boundless” reach extension (smart instructional software is another version).

The second potential dose is less hyped, but probably more important for learning outcomes:  the potential to enable the best in-person teachers to reach more students with personalized instruction. Large amounts of top teachers’ time could be freed up if kids were soaking up more knowledge and basic skills via Khan, smart software, or other vehicles. Excellent teachers could use that time to reach more kids. But homework flipping is not required (a good thing – see the end of our post). Kids can learn online at school, replacing teachers’ rote lectures and one-size-fits-few whole group learning.

Picture this: let’s say one class out of four in a school’s 4^th grade has an excellent math teacher, and she spends half her instructional time on whole-group instruction and half on more dynamic/personalized learning. If Kahn takes over the former whole-group time, two 4^th grade classes could have that teacher just for personalized/dynamic learning. The effect is a 100% increase in the number of kids who get a top-tier in-person teacher — without reducing personalized instruction time with kids. She’d need a learning lab monitor for Khan time at school and time-saving digital tools to monitor kids’ progress (a la Wireless Generation or others; Khan’s experimenting with this, too).  The change would be at least budget-neutral, and the great teacher could earn more within budget, since lab monitors are not paid as much. While one teaching position disappears – and that should be the weakest teacher who goes – other jobs emerge, such as the monitor or combined monitor/tutor. Possibly some of today’s struggling teachers would shine in those more focused roles, a topic Hess has thought about a lot.

This dual power of technology –both to extend reach of super-instructors boundlessly (no more low-value homework and large-group time) AND to allow reorganization of great on-site teacher time – is worth hyping.  Khan and Hess are somewhat onto this, but seem to be thinking of it more as just enabling in-person teachers of any quality to engage in more interaction with the kids they have – rather than specifically to give dramatically more kids access to the best available in-person teachers.

As technology advances, students will still need accountable adults taking responsibility for their learning.  The excellence of the teacher-in-charge will have the same enhancing and mitigating effect on digital learning as it has on every other reform tried to date.  Let’s focus on how Khan Academy and other less-hyped innovations can give nearly all student access to great teachers, nearly every year.

And as we do that, let’s face facts: according to the National Assessment of Educational Progress, 39% of high school students do no homework. Zip. In a homework flipping model like Khan’s promoters are pressing, these kids have nothing to flip. Khan and his kindred may be able to overcome that, but it reinforces the importance of reaching more students with excellent instruction – live and online – during the 35 hours per week they are already in school.

– Bryan Hassel and Emily Ayscue Hassel

Not that it’s easy. If I had a dime for every time someone said, “Oh that must be a piece-of-cake job,” or “I would love to sit at home all day,” I would be a wealthy teacher.

However, for this full-time virtual teacher and mother of three, it works. My day begins at 6 AM, a quiet time in my house. I spend the early hours working on grade books. I teach 6th- and 7th-grade math to 90 students. Parents and students go online to the grade book to view the student’s progress. My goal is to give each one of them the productive, positive, and personalized feedback that will enable the student to turn mistakes into learning opportunities.

FLVS provides the curriculum, so I don’t have to plan lessons or develop tests and can easily individualize instruction. I can personalize my classroom via the announcement page, which works like a virtual bulletin board.

By 8 AM, grading is done and overnight e-mails are answered. I view my calendar, noting any scheduled meetings and appointments. I sit down for breakfast with my youngest son, nine-year-old Camron, to prepare him for his day. Camron is enrolled in the FLVS full-time virtual instruction option for elementary school students and follows an accelerated curriculum for gifted students. I make sure he has his assignments organized before he traipses off to his own virtual world. Being able to oversee his schooling is a major benefit of working as a virtual teacher.

I jump back to the computer and my morning call list. My students vary in how much one-on-one instruction they need. Some students I speak to weekly, others less often, but at least once a month. Whenever students do not understand a concept, they can pick up the phone and call me for help. If their questions require that they be able to see what I am talking about, we have two options: We can use the “whiteboard,” where they can see what I am doing and talk to me on the phone at the same time. Students can write on the whiteboard and go step-by-step through a problem so that I can see where they are making mistakes. We can also use the web-based program Elluminate to work through problems together using a microphone instead of the telephone.

Navigating through FLVS courses is easy for students. Tabs enable them to move around the site at the click of a button. The lessons tab is where they learn the content, see examples, and work on practice problems. The assessment tab is where they submit their assignments for grading. If they want to, students can go to the grade book to reset an assessment and do the assignment again for a new grade. They can interact with each other in the discussion board area.

Before I know it, it is time for lunch, and I can step away from my computer to enjoy some quality time with my son: eat a sandwich, go for a walk, or play a video game. Pretty soon, it’s time to get back to work.

This afternoon, I’ll be taking my job on the road. Camron plays travel baseball for Gatorball Academy in Gainesville, an hour’s drive away. I make a call list: Who needs a welcome call? Monthly call? Do any of my students want to go over an assignment? I pack up my computer, grab my list and cell phone, and out the door we go. For the next few hours, I make good use of my cell phone, calling my students, answering their cries for help, letting parents know how wonderfully well their child is doing.

Once we’re home, I make a few notes for tomorrow. The day is done.

Is this a typical virtual teacher’s day? Will tomorrow be the same? There is no telling. What I can say, and what my students know, is that together we have the tools and the flexibility to meet whatever challenges the day brings.

Karen Faucett taught middle-school math in a traditional school setting for 13 years before moving to virtual education.

Now, a host of new web sites, from A to Z Teacher Stuff to Lesson Planet to Lessonopoly, are trying to solve that problem and make it easier for teachers to share, find, and make better use of lesson plans and accompanying materials. One, TeachersPayTeachers, a sort of Craigslist for educators, says it has paid more than $1 million in commissions to teachers, who have sold everything from classroom hand puppets to lesson plans on the Civil War. The site even hosts a “lesson plan on demand” auction, in which teachers advertise for, say, 4th-grade materials on Texas history and other teachers bid to fulfill the request.

But context matters. Teachers want to know whether something will work with their instructional style, in their classroom, and for their kids. Trust matters, too. While the sites offer ratings by users and rankings of the most popular items, these may not identify the highest-quality offerings. So how do novice teachers, who lack experience developing lessons and stand to benefit the most, know that a lesson plan will actually be effective? The answer may not lie in cyberspace, but in real communities.

One of the most promising new entrants to the growing online market of lesson plans is BetterLesson, a small Cambridge, Massachusetts, company started by former educators that has been called the “Facebook for teachers.” Any teacher can join for free, manage her lesson plans, organize teaching materials, and share (or not) with her school, a wider professional learning community, or the entire world. As with Facebook, the site’s technology and user interface are sharp, and users can easily register a positive reaction, in this case by clicking “Helpful.” But more important, BetterLesson shares Facebook’s initial focus on social networks and trusting relationships that already exist. While the site is currently open to any teacher, the company wants to leverage existing communities—school networks, alumni groups, and grade or subject affinity groups—that already share an identity and language around teaching.

BetterLesson’s Intranet package targets existing school networks. One early adopter, Achievement First, the highly regarded network of public charter schools in Connecticut and New York, is tailoring BetterLesson to extend the work of its instructional coaches and teacher learning communities. A coach working with a teacher can share concrete examples from the lesson plans and videos of effective teachers. “Remember what we were talking about at our last professional development session?” she can say. “Well, this is what it looks like.”

Since the examples are drawn from schools with similar cultures, expectations, and records of achievement, they are more likely to be trusted and used. As of February 2011, Achievement First had logged 15,000 downloads. KIPP and Rocketship Education (see “Future Schools”) have also signed on. In the first semester of use, KIPP teachers downloaded more than 20,000 lessons and related materials. But in the wider teaching community, BetterLesson has plenty of competition (see Figure 1).

Dan Cogan-Drew, Achievement First’s director of digital learning, emphasizes that the BetterLesson tools build on school cultures that are already collaborative. They are “an extension of the relationships that coaches are building with teachers,” he says, adding, “If it works for us, it’s because of the people and structure we have.”

Andrew Mandel, a vice president in charge of Teach For America’s Resource Exchange, a similar set of tools for TFA members, agrees with the importance of extending existing relationships. He says that TFA’s successful site is “not so much about the technology. [We’re] much more concerned with the user side.” This past fall, 75 percent of TFA’s 8,131 members downloaded materials from its site. And more than half of Achievement First’s 19 schools were active on BetterLesson in its first full year of use.

It is these real-world ties, along with recognition from their peers, that motivate successful teachers to spend the time and energy to organize and upload their materials. The site’s ease of use, as well as the tools to organize a teacher’s own lessons, is also critical. But sharing lesson plans is not just a one-way exchange. Teachers can also get feedback to ensure that their lessons are always improving.

There are other rewards, including one not normally associated with teaching but always possible on the Internet: fame. While teachers can keep their lessons within their trusted networks, they can also share them in such a way that they end up “going viral.” Alex Grodd, BetterLesson’s founder, former 6th-grade English teacher, and Teach For America alum, says it’s important for these networks to live on the same platform so that teachers can share beyond their individual networks, between districts and charters, and even across countries. The site can also offer outsiders a glimpse inside the classroom, notes Cogan-Drew; he says it lets prospective Achievement First teachers “step into our world.”

Just as Mastering the Art of French Cooking can’t magically transform a kitchen rookie into Julia Child, great lesson plans won’t turn novice teachers into experts. But the plans can help those novices lighten their load, allowing them to focus on other areas like classroom management and student engagement. As for the great teachers, they now have a way to capture tangible artifacts of what’s working and to spread them across hundreds of classrooms. And even the best chefs borrow recipes from each other. Highly effective veterans are constantly looking for ways to improve specific components of their instruction, such as opening up an explanation of quadratic equations. Perhaps sometime soon, we’ll see great lesson plans join the Star Wars kid, piano-playing kittens, and sneezing pandas as Internet sensations.

Bill Tucker is managing director of Education Sector.