First Person

The Right To Know What?

Each fall, thousands of runners descend on the Big Apple to run the New York City marathon. They’ve trained hard all year, and give their all on the course. Long after the elite runners have finished, they stream across the finish line in clumps, exhausted at the end of their 26.2-mile journey. In the middle of the pack, as many as eight or 10 runners might cross the finish line in a single second, and nearly 400 in a single minute.

The difference between a time of 4:08:00 and 4:09:00, however, isn’t large enough to be important. It’s the difference between a rate of 9:28 per mile and 9:30 per mile. Given the vagaries of marathon running — the wind, the temperature, the features of the course — it would be unwise to conclude that the runner who crossed the finish line in 4:08:00 is a much better marathoner than the one who finished in 4:09:00.

But the runner with a time of 4:08:00 finished several hundred places ahead of the runner who finished in 4:09:00 — surely that counts for something! Not really, I’d say. We can quantify the difference, both in absolute terms and in relative position, but these differences are not large enough to be meaningful.

The same is true of the information in the Teacher Data Reports recently released in New York City. Small differences in the estimated effects of teachers on their students’ achievement can appear to be much larger, because most teachers are about equally successful with the assortment of students they teach in a given year, regardless of whether those students begin the year as low-achievers or high-achievers. A trivial difference can appear much larger than it actually is, because, like the marathoners, many teachers are “crossing the finish line” at about the same time.

Here’s an example drawn from the 2008-09 Teacher Data Reports. (I chose the example because it’s convenient and have no reason to believe it’s unusual.) In 2009, fifth-graders took New York State’s English Language Arts exam, which consisted of 24 multiple-choice test items and three constructed-response items, which were combined to create a raw score ranging from 0 to 31. The raw scores were then converted to scale scores, which were used to classify individual students into four levels of performance, with Level 3 representing grade-level proficiency. The average student in New York City got 25.5 raw score points out of 31, which in New York City’s scheme represented an average proficiency level of 3.29. (Sounds pretty good, right? Of course, this was before the state wised up that being proficient on the test didn’t mean a student was on track to graduate from high school ready for college.)

The logic of the city’s Teacher Data Reports is to estimate Teacher A’s contribution to his or her students’ test-scores by comparing how other students with the same measured characteristics would be expected to do on the state test, based on their prior achievement and individual and classroom characteristics, with how Teacher A’s students actually did on the test. If Teacher A’s students score at the same level as was predicted by a statistical model, Teacher A is claimed to not “add value” to her students. If Teacher B’s students perform better than expected, Teacher B is said to add value. (And poor Teacher C, whose students score lower than they are predicted to do, is subtracting value, I guess. Maybe we should call him Teacher F.) These “value-added” scores are then ranked, and a teacher is assigned a percentile value representing the percentage of other teachers teaching the same grade and subject who scored below he or she did.

An “average” teacher, according to this calculation, is one whose value-added score is 0. Of the 1,751 NYC teachers with three or more years of experience who received a value-added rating in fifth-grade English in 2008-09, 84 got a score that rounded to .00. Their percentile ratings—the number that’s getting all of the attention in the traditional and neo-tabloids—range from 53 to 58. A tiny shift of .01 in either direction yields an additional 152 teachers, and a percentile rating of 48 to 63. What seems to be a small range of value-added scores could be anywhere from the 48th to the 63th percentile, because the value-added scores in this range are clumped together.

But it’s hard to know whether a shift of .01 in either direction is large or small. How can we tell? Here’s an idea. Suppose that Ruiz had 20 students who took the fifth-grade English test in 2009, and they were at the city average of 25.5 out of 31 raw score points on the test. What if half of the students got one more question right on the test? Doesn’t seem like a big stretch, does it? Just like the variation in the conditions on marathon day, half of the students getting one more question correct on a given test on a given day doesn’t seem out of the realm of possibility.

If this were to happen, Ruiz’s value-added score would rise from 0 to .05. And the percentile range associated with a value-added score of .05 is 75 to 77. All of a sudden, an “average” teacher looks pretty good. And this isn’t due to the margin of error! It’s just because many teachers are about equally effective in promoting student achievement, according to the value-added model in use. A relatively small change in student performance shifts a teacher’s location in the value-added distribution by a surprisingly large amount.

To be sure, this example is based on one year of student test-score data, not multiple years. But that’s what New York State is proposing to rely on in its first year of the new Annual Professional Performance Review process, and it’s what other jurisdictions, such as Washington, D.C., use in their teacher-evaluation systems. And, as with the marathon, the clumping together of teachers is more of an issue in the middle of the distribution than among those in the lead or at the back of the pack. But that’s little consolation to the teachers whose percentile rankings will figure into annual evaluations that will determine whether they’re permitted to continue teaching.

Speaking at Coney Island Feb. 28, Mayor Bloomberg defiantly affirmed the public’s right to know the contents of teachers’ performance evaluations. “Parents have a right to know every bit of information that we can possibly collect about the teacher that’s in front of their kids,” he said.

That statement is utterly ridiculous. There’s no legitimate interest in information about teachers’ private lives if it has no bearing on their professional performance. But here’s something parents do have the right to know: just how fragile value-added measures based on the New York State testing system are. The New York State tests were never intended to be used to rate teachers’ contributions to student learning — and so it’s little wonder they do a pretty poor job of it.

This post also appears on Eye on Education, Aaron Pallas’s Hechinger Report blog.

First Person

Why I take class time to teach perseverance (and let my fourth-graders write on their desks)

PHOTO: Kelly Wilkinson/Indianapolis Star
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Every morning, I hand my fourth-grade students dry-erase markers and ask them to do something unconventional: write directly on their desks.

Their task is to write a goal for the day. I have seen them write things like “Today I will be a better friend” or more abstract ideas like “My goal is to accept challenges.” When it’s time to leave, we celebrate those who met their goals and encourage those who haven’t to try again tomorrow.

Daily goal-setting is one of many strategies I use to teach perseverance, self-control, confidence and teamwork — “soft skills” often referred to as social-emotional learning. Most require just a couple of extra minutes at the start and end of our school days, but the payoff seems invaluable.

Research shows that students who internalize those skills may actually be better at learning hard skills like math and reading, and are more likely to graduate from high school. One study showed that students were more motivated when they were told their brains are muscles that can get stronger with practice, just like any other muscle. This year, I’ve already seen students use their daily goal-setting to focus on tasks they used to think they could not accomplish, like multiplication.

I’ve seen this strategy work with students of all ability levels. We are a diverse community, and the same goals don’t work for everyone, especially my students who fall under the special-education umbrella or whose primary language isn’t English. But that doesn’t mean they are excluded. Part of the learning process for students is crafting their own goals that will work for them.

Another part of this exercise is practicing compassion. Nothing makes my heart happier than seeing my students take a genuine interest in each other. They’ve even written goals like, “I want to learn to speak English” (with help from another classmate) or “I will help Alan with his math today.” And they actually did it. Those two students sat together in class and worked on sight words and multiplication problems.

An important part of this work is defining these ideas, like empathy, grit and determination for students so I can be specific about what we’re aiming for. (I like ClassDojo’s Big Ideas videos, which explain those concepts through the eyes of a little monster named Mojo, and prompt my students to talk about how they’ve felt when they didn’t know an answer or were intimidated by a task.)

An unexpected benefit of these lessons has been personal. Lately, my class has been struggling with getting off-task — and, as all teachers know, every minute I spend asking a student to please stop talking or stop distracting others is a minute not spent on academic content or teaching the rest of the class. At one of those moments, I asked my students to empathize with me, one teacher trying to reach 22 of them, and with their fellow students, who wanted to learn but were being distracted.

We talked as a class about building a new set of expectations for our classroom. And by the end of the day, I had received two hand-delivered notes, secretly created and signed by each student in the class, saying that they were sorry for disturbing class.

The notes showed me that my students are learning compassion and also that they are beginning to value their academic time. I hope that it was a sign of soft skills leading to hard skills — students recognizing that how they act has an impact on learning the skills necessary to solve problems and succeed.

Stephanie Smith is a fourth-grade teacher at Roy L. Waldron Elementary School in La Vergne, Tenn.

First Person

My students are worried about their families being deported. Here’s what I stopped world history class to tell them

PHOTO: Creative Commons / nickestamp
johnteaching

Queens, New York is an exciting place to teach world history. The borough is known for its diversity, and more than 1 million of its residents were born in a different country. The world’s history is the story of cultures represented right in my class.

That diversity is also why I knew my high-school students would have more than a mild curiosity about President-elect Donald Trump’s stance on immigration. According to the Migration Policy Institute, as many as 232,000 residents of the borough could be undocumented. More than 15,000 of them are children.

So, last week, I finished our lesson a few minutes early and asked my students a question. “Who here is concerned that someone they love will be forced to return to a home country under President Trump?” More than half of my students raised their hands.

I have read about what Trump has said he intends to do with regard to undocumented immigrants in this country — plans that have honestly left me disturbed. But I’m also aware that, when fear is pervasive, a well-timed lesson can be a calming force for students who are feeling anxious about what may happen to them.

So I did some research. My plan is to return to the topic in a few days with a brief lecture about what could occur to undocumented persons under a Trump presidency.

Raising this topic in a world history class may seem a bit incongruent. But part of my responsibility as a teacher is to make sure students feel safe and valued in my class. So I’ve decided that sharing some basic facts that are important for understanding this topic is a good place to start.

The first set of facts will be designed to assuage some fears. I think it’s a good idea to inform students about the extent to which New York City, like many cities across the country, has committed to making their families safe from deportation. The truth is that the city government has a three-decade-long tradition of making New York a sanctuary for undocumented people.

I’ll tell them that New York’s status as a “sanctuary city” began back in 1989, when Mayor Ed Koch signed Executive Order 124. That expressly forbade most city employees from telling the federal government if they suspected someone was in the United States illegally. That was enforced by mayors Dinkins and, surprisingly, Giuliani.

That order was ultimately struck down, but Mayor Bloomberg issued his own executive orders establishing a policy where most city employees cannot ask about an immigrant’s legal status or disclose someone’s documentation status under most circumstances. And it is important for my students to know that the exceptions to those policies pertain to undocumented people who are suspected of breaking the law.

In 2014, our current mayor, Bill de Blasio, signed two bills into law which promised even less cooperation with federal authorities seeking to remove undocumented city residents. In 2015, federal officials asked the city to detain under 1,000 people who were already in jail. The city transferred fewer than 220 to federal custody — less than one-tenth of 1 percent of the city’s estimated 500,000 undocumented residents.

I’m not inclined to leave my students with a false sense of safety, though. That would be irresponsible.

The truth is, if they live in communities where there are a lot of arrests, and Trump follows through with some of his campaign promises, then there is a greater likelihood that more deportations will occur. If he triples the number of ICE field officers in the U.S. and ends the Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals program, which grants a path to residency for people who grew up without documentation, the chance that my students will be affected will increase.

But facts don’t always have to represent good news in order to make a young person feel more secure. Young adults just don’t work that way. That’s why I will be sharing this information as well.

I will also tell them they do not need to face their concerns in isolation. Seeking out other people and organizations who handle this issue can be incredibly empowering. The New York State Youth Leadership Council is a great place for students to start.

The truth is no one knows whether Trump’s campaign promises will become reality. I also know that one teacher in one classroom isn’t going to do much to combat the reality that undocumented young people already live with real fear. But as we combat the “Trump effect,” facts can be helpful antidotes.

John Giambalvo is a social studies teacher at Information Technology High School in Long Island City, Queens.