First Person

Commentary: READ Act a victory for kids

The heads of five education advocacy organizations extoll the virtues of the just-passed early literacy act.

The READ Act was one of the most visible bills of the 2012 legislative session and will likely go down in history as one of the most important –a huge victory for Colorado’s kids. As staunch advocates for the bill from day one, and on behalf of the students, parents, educators, civic and business leaders we represent, we applaud Colorado’s legislators for getting this right. The bipartisan amendments that have led to the current bill have made it better, and that kind of collaboration is to be celebrated. Legislators resisted the temptation to water down the bill’s core principles and passed a bold, culture changing piece of legislation.

We are grateful to Governor Hickenlooper, Lieutenant Governor Garcia, and the bill’s primary sponsors, Representatives Massey and Hamner, and Senators Johnston and Spence. They were relentless in their pursuit of a well-reasoned and research-based solution to Colorado’s early literacy crisis. These legislators identified and incorporated national best practices, while at the same time crafted a uniquely Colorado solution. The result should be cheered and welcomed by students, parents, teachers, and administrators alike.

As a coalition, we have worked on this effort for 19 months, since Colorado’s early literacy crisis was highlighted by Colorado Succeeds’ 2010 publication, “Proving the Possible.” Since that time, our goal has been to fundamentally change the culture of early reading in our state to ensure that all children read by the end of third grade, without excuse or exception. We are confident that the READ Act will successfully accomplish this overall objective because of its three core principles:

  1. Identify struggling readers as early as possible;
  2. Take aggressive action to implement comprehensive, scientifically-based reading interventions for those students; and
  3. Share accountability for reading outcomes among all stakeholders – teachers, parents, students and administrators.

This bill, at its core, is about intervening early to get kids on track before it’s too late. When the policy takes effect in 2013, struggling readers will be identified as early as kindergarten and teachers will work with those students to diagnose the root cause of their reading difficulties.

We know from scientific research and experience that there are five essential components to effective reading instruction: phonemic awareness, phonics, fluency, vocabulary, and comprehension. Therefore, teachers will diagnosis the student’s strengths and weaknesses in each of these five areas.

Teachers will then work with the student’s parent to create a customized intervention plan that supports their child in developing the specific reading skills that he or she is lacking. The Colorado Department of Education will provide professional development to assist teachers in delivering highly effective reading instruction and interventions. Teachers will also have access to a resource bank of proven instructional programs and strategies for improving reading skills in the five critical areas.

Teachers will frequently monitor the student’s progress and ensure that the intervention plan is updated and differentiated based on reliable quantitative and qualitative data. Throughout this process, teachers will regularly communicate with the student’s parent, equipping them with basic methods to implement at home to boost their child’s reading skills.

The legislature allocated $16 million to annually support interventions such as summer school, reading tutors, and full day kindergarten for struggling readers. The reporting requirements enable stakeholders to clearly see the return on investment and helps facilitate the sharing of best practices across the state.

If after years of supportive interventions, students still struggle with significant reading deficiencies, the parent, teacher, and principal must consider retaining the child with more rigorous intervention and remediation strategies.

In kindergarten, first, and second grade, the parent will decide if the student will advance. However, in third grade, the school district’s superintendent makes the final decision. Superintendents will be motivated to maintain rigorous standards that prevent students with significant reading deficiencies from advancing to the fourth grade. This will be most evident by the inclusion of the district’s early literacy data in the annual accreditation and improvement planning process with the Colorado Department of Education.

This policy framework provides a powerful incentive for parents, teachers, and districts to seriously engage in early literacy efforts and at the same time holds all stakeholders accountable for making progress. This is a thoughtful, practical approach and a necessary step toward ensuring all children are literate by the end of third grade.

We appreciate the legislature’s hard work on this bill and look forward to supporting the implementation process, as the work now shifts to the State Board of Education for rule-making and eventually classrooms across Colorado. 

First Person

‘I didn’t feel like I had anyone to ask for support’: Why it matters to have teachers who look like me

PHOTO: Alan Petersime

For 10 years — the first decade I was in school — all my teachers were white women.

As a Mexican-American kid, I didn’t get the chance to have a man of color as a teacher until high school. Going into my senior year, I like how diverse my teachers are now, but I wish I’d had the same experience when I was younger.

When I think about why it matters to have a teacher I can relate to, I think back to fifth grade. A classmate said to me, “Mexicans are illegal—they cross the border every day! How about you, did you cross the border?” This bothered me. So, after class, I asked the teacher for help. But all she said was, “That’s OK, he was just playing.” From there, I had nowhere to go. She was at the top of the food chain.

In 1990, before they met, my mother and father came over the border from Mexico. My mom’s parents weren’t making enough profit from their cattle ranch, so they had little choice but to immigrate. My mom came with them to the United States and worked at a restaurant so she could send money back home. My father followed his older brother here because he wanted to start a new life. Little did he know he would one day cross paths with my mother and eventually start a family.

But my classmate was “just playing” when he insulted all of this. I wish my teacher had done something else.

If I’d been the teacher, I would’ve taken a different approach and worked to understand why we were acting and responding the way we were. Maybe the other student and I could’ve found common ground. But, unfortunately, we never had a chance to try.

Up until ninth grade, I had zero male teachers of color. I didn’t feel like I had anyone to ask for support when things like the fifth-grade incident happened. Many of us students felt that way — and that’s why I want to be a teacher, a fifth-grade teacher in particular. I want to make my culture an asset in the classroom and be a teacher students feel comfortable confiding in, no matter their background.

A teacher’s perspective: Cut from the same cloth: Why it matters that black male teachers like me aren’t alone in our schools

In middle school, I started seeing more male educators, but they were all white. Then, when it came time for me to start high school, I ended up going to school in a different neighborhood — an hour commute away—and things finally changed for me. Since starting high school, I’ve had six male teachers of color, and it’s made a huge difference.

My high school makes a big deal out of the whole “building relationships” thing. To my teachers and everyone else at the school, relationships are just as important as academics. At first, it was hard to get used to, but eventually it started making sense to me. I’m in an all-male mentorship group led by two African-American men who openly share about their struggles growing up in New York, and give us advice in any area of life — including what it means to appreciate our cultures. This is one of the things I like most about my school.

It’s hard to explain the way it feels to have a teacher who looks like you; they’re like older brothers who become a huge part of our lives, even if it’s just for four years. They make it easier to connect and socialize and help me feel more like I belong. To me, learning from someone who reflects who you are is one of the best things a student can experience.

Near the end of the school year, my mentorship group did an activity where we took turns getting asked questions by other students and staff. One of the mentors asked me, “What’s it like being Mexican American and how has your background influenced your goals?” No one had ever asked me that before, and it took a long time for me to process the question.

After a few moments, I spoke a bit about my family’s story and shared some of the stereotypes I had encountered and how they affect me today. Everyone was so supportive, and the mentors encouraged me to continue breaking stereotypes and defining myself rather than letting others define me.

It was nerve-wracking at first, telling my story in that group, but after three years of high school, we’d developed that level of trust. It was the first time I’d shared my story with that many people at once, but it felt intimate and very different from the time in fifth grade when that kid tried to tell my story for me.

Finally having teachers that look like me has made a huge difference. They don’t just mentor me and help me with my academics, they also make my goal of becoming a teacher seem more realistic.

Having men of color I can look up to and model myself after is a big part of why I have no doubt I’ll make it to college — and eventually be able to give other kids the type of help my mentors have given me. I know where I’m needed, and that’s where I’m headed.

Jose Romero is a senior at EPIC High School North in Queens, New York. This piece originally appeared on the blog of TNTP, a national nonprofit and advocacy group that trains new teachers.

First Person

A Queens teacher on Charlottesville: ‘It can’t just be teachers of color’ offering lessons on race

PHOTO: Bob Mical/Creative Commons

In a few short weeks, school will resume in New York and I’m already thinking about how we are going to address racism within the four walls of my classroom. I’m thinking about what texts, historical and current, we can read and films and documentaries we can watch to support dialogue, questioning, and solutions for combatting that ugly, pervasive thread in the fabric of our country’s patchwork quilt called racism.

Last year we read “Narrative of the Life of Frederick Douglass,” a former slave turned abolitionist, and juxtaposed its reading with a viewing of Ava DuVernay’s documentary “13th,” which discusses modern-day slavery in the guise of mass incarceration. Students asked questions of the documentary as they watched it and discussed those queries within their groups and with the class at large afterwards.

We do our children and ourselves a disservice when we don’t have these difficult conversations as a part of our collective curriculums. However, many teachers from various walks of life are neither well-versed nor fully comfortable discussing race on any level with their students. Not talking about racism won’t make it go away. If anything, not talking about racism in the classroom further perpetuates racist ideologies that are, at their root, born out of ignorance. Education’s goal is to dispel ignorance and replace it with truth.

With that being said, just how many teachers feel equipped to facilitate lessons that touch heavily upon race in the classroom? Not nearly enough.

According to Teaching Tolerance, “The dialogue about race should start in the classroom — the teacher-prep classroom, that is. Preservice teachers should be exploring multiculturalism and discussing ways to honor diversity in their future classrooms.”

But often, Hilton Kelly, a professor of education at Davidson College in North Carolina told the site, the coursework isn’t giving future teachers the training they need to talk about race. “Even when future teachers take courses on diversity and multiculturalism,” Kelly said, “those courses don’t take the critical approach to race that future teachers truly need.”

“Food, folklore and festivals are not the same as an analysis of race in America,” Kelly argued.

But an analysis of race in America is exactly what needs to happen. Furthermore, it can’t just be teachers of color solely facilitating such lessons in their classrooms.

I don’t want to write about the events going on in Virginia. I don’t want to think about it. I’m so tired of the hatred and I long for peace, but I can’t very well in good conscience remain silent. That would be akin to protesting with those hate-mongers in Virginia last weekend. I can’t just write about back-to-school shopping, lesson planning, and business-as-usual while my brothers and sisters in Virginia are being murdered in cold blood by white supremacist American Nazis.

Are the children of Virginia safe? Are our children anywhere safe? What can I do to make a difference within the hearts and minds of the children whom I teach? If education is our best vehicle for bringing about change — which it is— how am I going to infuse the lessons I teach with critical thinking and analysis about racism in the United States for the seventh-graders entrusted in my care? How are other educators planning to address these events with their students at every grade-level?

I pose these questions to all who are reading. Whether you are a teacher, a student, a parent, an administrator, or a community member, I plead with you to work together to create answers that work toward healthy conversations and hands-on action in the fight against racism.

Vivett Dukes is a teacher at Queens Collegiate: A College Board School. A version of this post first appeared on New York School Talk