In the Classroom

Educators warn dual credit courses could dry up after rule change for teachers

PHOTO: Alan Petersime

A glimpse at Bluffton High School’s course schedule shows just how seriously it is taking a mandate to prepare students for college. Students can choose from 18 college courses to take during the school day, and those courses enroll dozens of students at the small school just south of Fort Wayne.

But new rules could knock those course offerings down to just one: precalculus.

The rule change is meant to bolster the quality of teaching in “dual-credit” courses, which can count for both high school and college credit, by restricting who can teach them. But it could have serious unintended consequences in Bluffton and across Indiana.

“We were told, ‘Push for dual credit, push for dual credit, we need to be doing more,’” said Bluffton Principal Steve Baker. “We feel like the rug is being pulled from underneath us.”

Indiana law requires high schools to offer dual-credit courses as a way to ensure that graduates are prepared for college, and high schools partner with local colleges to design the courses and decide who can teach them. Last year, 2,908 teachers — with a range of credentials — taught nearly 3,500 dual credit courses in high schools across the state.

But in Indiana and 19 other states, a third-party group called the Higher Learning Commission governs many elements of the courses. That group recently announced that starting in 2017, dual-credit teachers will have to have master’s degrees in the subjects they teach or have extensive training in those subjects and a master’s degree in another area.

The decision to raise the bar for dual-credit teachers comes at a time when Indiana has veered away from pushing teachers to earn master’s degrees — and when some districts say they are having trouble finding enough teachers at all.

“If it happens and it stays that way, it would just be one of the biggest mistakes and most harm we’ve done to our students in quite some time,” Baker said about the rule change.

Baker is not alone in his distress, according to Todd Bess, executive director of the Indiana Association of School Principals. He said school leaders across the state had told him the change would hurt their ability to offer the college-level courses.

“Every — literally every — principal I’ve talked to, and in some cases superintendent, has said we’ll have a very, very limited amount of teachers able to teach dual credit,” Bess said.

The Higher Learning Commission, one of six organizations that accredit American colleges and universities, said in a statement that the rule change is meant to ensure that college courses are challenging no matter where they are taken.

“An expert faculty member is a critical element in ensuring that dual enrollment students have a college experience that is as rigorous as the college experience they would have had by taking the same class on campus from a college faculty member,” the statement said. “A college or university must assure [sic] that faculty members teaching dual credit courses hold the same minimal qualifications as the faculty teaching on its own campus.”

Indeed, concerns about quality control in dual-credit courses have grown as states have expanded the courses rapidly, inspired by a growing body of research showing that they benefit all kinds of students, including those who might not seem ready for college-level work.

But Janet Boyle, executive director of the Center of Excellence in Leadership of Learning at the University of Indianapolis, said the commission’s focus on teachers’ credentials is not the best way to ensure consistent high quality.

“Does having a master’s make you automatically a better teacher? There’s not a lot of proof on that one,” she said. “But at the same time, more education is always good. It’s kind of a double-edged sword.”

A better approach, Boyle said, is one that many schools operating dual credit programs in the state already take: collaborating vigilantly with university partners on teacher training, curriculum, final exams and even textbooks for their classes.

Boyle said university officials across the state are as concerned as high school principals about the potential impact of the Higher Learning Commission’s rule change. But she said it’s hard to come up with a local solution to a problem introduced by an outside organization.

The Higher Learning Commission responded to questions about why the rule change occurred in a statement. It delivered additional guidance to states today, but Boyle said it wasn’t as clear-cut as she was hoping. Mainly, the updated guidelines reaffirmed the commission’s stance on faculty qualifications.

“There’s still some holes in things,” Boyle said. “This is the begining of Indiana’s discussion … so what do we do about this? Do we push it any more? Do we let it stand?”

If the rule stands, Boyle said another solution could be for legislators to reinstate incentives for teachers to pursue master’s degrees, which they removed in 2011 as part of a broader overhaul of how Indiana teachers are paid. Universities could also develop short-term courses to give teachers with master’s degrees the credentials they need to teach dual-credit courses in their subject, she said.

“I think it’s going to take a coalition of both the (Indiana) Commission on Higher Education and (Indiana) Department of Education and universities and high schools to hammer some of this out,” Boyle said. “There needs to be a leadership group on this to make sure there are policy changes, if we need to go to the General Assembly. I think you’re going to see people pulling together on this.”

Boyle is scheduled to speak to legislators about the issue on Oct. 19, but Indiana’s Commission on Higher Education is expected to hold a meeting of its Dual Credit Advisory Council to discuss the issue further with state Superintendent Glenda Ritz on Tuesday from 2 p.m. to 4 p.m.

For now, Baker and other principals are starting to figure out what it would take to get their dual-credit teachers to meet the new standards. Many of them share a feeling of resentment toward the Higher Learning Commission, which they believe failed to consider students, teachers, and families when setting the new rule.

“This is a faceless organization that has handed down some very unfair rules, and now we’re left scrambling on how to deal with it,” Baker said. “I’m not really sure people understand how much this has dealt a blow to high schools who have worked really hard to get here.”

around the world

VIDEO: Second-graders take their Memphis school on a global tour

PHOTO: Caroline Bauman
A second-grader teaches younger students about India, a country she studied this year at John P. Freeman Optional School.

Dressed in garments representing 30 countries, students at one Memphis school threw a world-class celebration to mark the last week of the school year for Shelby County Schools.

Second-graders at John P. Freeman Optional School created displays about countries they’ve been studying and invited their families and other students to take a tour.

Called Global Fest, the annual event was organized by teacher Melissa Collins, who has traveled to India and Brazil through several global teaching programs. Her teaching style aims to bring those experiences to life for her students.

“Global Fest is important to me because it gives the students a different perspective of other people around the world,” Collins said.

Watch what we saw and heard Thursday during this year’s Global Fest.

Global Fest at John P. Freeman Optional School, Memphis from Chalkbeat Tennessee on Vimeo.

First Person

I’m a black man raised on the mistaken idea that education could keep me safe. Here’s what I teach my students in the age of Jordan Edwards

The author, Fredrick Scott Salyers.

This piece is presented in partnership with The Marshall Project

I worry a lot about the students in the high school where I teach. One, in particular, is bright but struggles in class. He rarely ever smiles and he acts out, going so far recently as to threaten another teacher. As a black, male teacher — one of too few in the profession — I feel especially compelled to help this young black man reach his potential. Part of that work is teaching him the dangers that might exist for him, including the police.

The killing of Texas teenager Jordan Edwards proves, though, that it’s not just black boys with behavior issues who are in danger. Jordan — a high school freshman, star athlete and honor student — was shot dead by a police officer last month while leaving a house party. As he rode away from the party in a car driven by his older brother, officers who’d been called to the scene fired multiple rifle rounds at the car. One bullet went through the passenger window, striking Jordan in the head. Murder charges have since been filed against the officer who fired the fatal shot.

It’s a near impossible task to educate black children in a society that constantly interrupts that work with such violence. Still, it’s incumbent on educators like me to guide our students through the moment we’re living in — even when we can’t answer all their questions, and even if we’re sometimes confused ourselves.

I began teaching in 2014, the year the police killings of Eric Garner, Michael Brown, and Tamir Rice dominated headlines. The tragedies have piled on, a new one seeming to occur every month since I first stepped into a classroom. I currently teach ninth-graders at a predominantly black charter school in Brooklyn, and I often find myself struggling to make sense of the events for my students.

I’ve shown them clips from popular films like “Selma” and “Fruitvale Station” and prepared lessons on the civil rights movement, and I’ve done my best to ground it all in the subjects I was hired to teach — American history, composition, and college readiness. My hope is that these films will encourage my students to connect today’s police violence to our nation’s history of racial injustice. And, because there are no easy answers, they’ll simply be encouraged by the perseverance of those who came before them.

I can’t help but worry I’m sending them mixed messages, however, teaching them lessons on resistance while also policing their conduct day to day. As an administrator and one of few black male teachers in my school, I’m often charged with disciplining students. I find myself having a familiar talk with many of them: “get good grades,” “respect authority,” “keep your nose clean.”

It’s instruction and advice that can feel pointless when a “good kid” like Jordan Edwards can have his life cut short by those sworn to serve and protect him. Still, I try in hopes that good grades and polite behavior will insulate my students from some of society’s dangers, if not all of them.

The Monday after police killed Edwards, I asked the students in my college readiness class to watch a news clip about the shooting and write out their feelings, or sit in silence and reflect. Many of them were already aware of what happened. I was proud that so many of them were abreast of the news but saddened by their reflections. At just 14 and 15 years old, many of them have already come to accept deaths like Jordan’s as the norm, and readily expect that any one of them could be next. “Will this police officer even be fired?” one asked. “Was the cop white?”

The young man I worry about the most was more talkative than usual that day. During the class discussion, he shared his guilt of being the only one of his friends who “made it” — making it meaning being alive, still, and free. The guilt sometimes cripples him, he said, and high-profile police killings like Jordan’s compound that guilt with a feeling of hopelessness. They make him think he will die in the streets one way or another.

I didn’t know what to say then, and I still don’t have a response for him. I’ve always taught students that earning an education might exempt them from the perils of being black in America, or at least give them a chance at something more. I was raised on that notion and believed it so much that I became an educator. But deaths like Jordan’s leave me choking on the reality that nothing I can teach will shield my students from becoming the next hashtag.

In lieu of protection, I offer what I can. I provide a space for my students to express their feelings. I offer love and consideration in our day-to-day interactions and do my best to make them feel seen and, hopefully, safe for a few hours each day.

Fredrick Scott Salyers teaches at a charter high school in Brooklyn. He began his career in education as a resident director at Morehouse College. Find more of his work here.