First Person

Voices: Inside for-profit education

Former online teacher Patricia Lang doesn’t believe taxpayer dollars should be used for online schools after her experiences in the trenches. 

In 2005 I began working for COVA, the Colorado Virtual Academy. The position was flexible to allow me to work from home, care for my granddaughter and still work with special needs students.stockonlineteacher20110

The mentor teacher walked me though the computer set up, the documentation and the procedures of the online school. I began with vast amounts of curriculum and a class list of 24 students. The expectation was to download their IEPs (individualized educational plans), written for students who have special needs in specific academic areas. I would contact the learning coach at least once a week to discuss their students’ academic progress, their individual goals and to assist with resources and teaching strategies. As a special education teacher I had the opportunity to work with both students and their parent(s). We worked together as a team building student confidence and skills.

Missing was the face-to-face contact. My students were disbursed widely throughout the Western Slope. I kept records, documented progress on IEP goals, held IEP meetings and still had time to care for my granddaughter. I was also required to attend marketing events for K-12, an online curriculum company. These marketing events were designed to increase enrollment through recruitment. I attended a local religious event, Night Vision, where I passed out literature and encouraged students and their families to enroll in COVA. As the years rolled by the number of students on my class list increased. When I left COVA in November of 2012, I was responsible for the learning of 43 special education students. I had also been given the responsibility to teach reading-related concepts and vocabulary to all middle school students with goals in these areas, numbering more than 90 students.

At the administrative level, the paperwork increased dramatically; not only IEP’s but now there were a variety of spreadsheets to keep updated both on and off the school server. There were constant changes that continued throughout the school year. The continuing modifications to documentation left families and staff often times confused and overwhelmed. I requested that changes be made during the summer and left in place for the academic year. Students needed consistency and educators needed time to determine the effectiveness of the changes. Changing reporting procedures was not good policy and it adversely affected students and families. Many teachers found the reporting requirements along with the large class rosters impossible. Teacher turnover in COVA was high and many would leave or be replaced.

I watched each year as COVA grew progressively worse. The changes kept coming with increasing numbers of students, mountains of paperwork, spreadsheets and extensive notes in a school-wide/national database called Total View.

By the 2012-2013 school year, the emphasis was completely on test scores. Study Island (owned and operated by K-12) involved drill and practice to prepare students for TCAP, previously CSAP. Teacher evaluation and pay are tied to scores on TCAP. Through the Atlas Model (also K-12), all teaching is prescribed instead of personalized to the needs of the students. The Blackboard Collaborative online classroom (another K-12 product) monitors teacher’s sessions to ensure the Atlas Model is followed to the letter. If all of the elements are not included it is noted on your monthly evaluation, impacting your bonus or pay increase for the next school year. Testing is the primary aspect of online learning.

At a professional development meeting a couple of years ago, a regional K-12 manager informed the teaching staff at COVA that a master’s degree was of absolutely no value in the K-12 system. Teachers were not encouraged or compensated for furthering their own education. Recruiting new teachers with lesser experience and qualifications helped the corporation keep salary costs lower and minimize expenditures.

Online curriculum is the means to mass educate students at a lower cost. As my class roster grew and the quality of my teaching and student learning declined it became apparent that companies like K-12 are in business to make money, not educate. In my personal and professional opinion, for-profit organizations should not be able to profit from taxpayer dollars intended to educate our future citizenry; it is the students who are short-changed when the primary goal is to fill shareholder’s pockets.

First Person

I covered Tennessee’s ed beat for Chalkbeat. Here’s what I learned.

PHOTO: Marta W. Aldrich
Grace Tatter covers a press conference at the Tennessee State Capitol in 2015.

For three years, I covered the Statehouse for Chalkbeat Tennessee, reporting on how policies from Nashville trickled down into more than 1,800 public schools across the state.

Now I’m starting back to school myself, pursuing graduate studies aimed at helping me to become a better education journalist. I’m taking with me six things I learned on the job about public education in Tennessee.

1. Apathy is often cited as a major problem facing education. That’s not the case in Tennessee.

I heard from hundreds of parents, educators, and students who were passionate about what’s happening — good and bad — inside of schools. I covered crowded school board meetings and regularly scrambled for an open seat at legislative hearings where parents had filled the room after driving since dawn to beat the opening gavel. Not incidentally, those parents usually came from communities with the “worst” schools and the lowest test scores. While many disagreements exist about the best way to run schools, there is no shortage of people, particularly parents and educators, who care.

2. Tennessee has one of the most fascinating education stories in America.

I’ve had a front-row seat to massive changes in K-12 education under reforms ushered in by Race to the Top — an overhaul being tracked closely well beyond the state’s borders. But the national interest and import doesn’t end with changes stemming from the $500 million federal award. Tennessee is home to some of the nation’s premier education researchers, making its classrooms laboratories for new ideas about pre-K, school turnaround, and literacy instruction, just to name a few. And at the legislature, more lobbyists are devoted to education than to most any other cause. A lot of eyes are on Tennessee schools.

3. The education community is not as divided as it looks.

During the course of just a few years, I watched state lawmakers change their positions on accountability and school vouchers. I witnessed “anti-charter” activists praise charter leaders for their work. I chronicled task force meetings where state leaders who were committed to standardized testing found middle ground with classroom educators concerned that it’s gone too far. In short, a lot of people listened to each other and changed their minds. Watching such consensus-building reminded me that, while there are no simple debates about education, there is a widespread commitment to making it better.

4. Money matters.

Even when stories don’t seem to be about money, they usually are. How much money is being spent on testing, teacher salaries, school discipline reform? How much should be available for wraparound services? Why do some schools have more money than others? Is there enough to go around? Tennessee leaders have steadily upped public education spending, but the state still invests less than most other states, and the disparities among districts are gaping. That’s why more than a handful of school districts are battling with the state in court. Conversations about money are inextricable from conversations about improving schools.

5. Race is a significant education issue, but few leaders are willing to have that conversation.

More than 60 years after Brown v. Board of Education, Tennessee’s schools are largely racially segregated. Yet most policymakers tread lightly, if ever, into conversations about achieving real racial integration. And in many cases — such as a 2011 law enabling mostly white suburban Shelby County towns to secede from the mostly black Memphis district — they’ve actually gone backwards. Then there’s the achievement data. The annual release of test scores unleashes a flurry of conversation around the racial achievement gap. But the other 11 months of the year, I heard little about whether state and local policies are closing those gaps — or contributing to them — or the historical reasons why the gaps exist in the first place. To be sure, state leadership is trying to address some of Tennessee’s shortcomings. For example, the State Department of Education has launched modestly funded initiatives to recruit more teachers of color. But often, race and racism are the elephants in the room.

6. Still, there’s lots to celebrate.

If there were unlimited hours in the day, I could have written thousands of stories about what’s going right in public education. Every day, I received story ideas about collaborations with NASA in Oak Ridge, high school trips to Europe from Memphis, gourmet school lunches in Tullahoma, and learning partnerships with the Nashville Zoo. Even in schools with the steepest challenges, they were stories that inspire happiness and hope. They certainly inspired me.

Grace Tatter graduated from public schools in Winston-Salem, N.C., and received her bachelor’s degree in history from the University of North Carolina. She’s now pursuing a master’s degree in specialized studies at the Harvard Graduate School of Education.

First Person

I’m a Houston geography teacher. This is my plan for our first day back — as soon as it arrives

PHOTO: Creative Commons / Texas Military Department
Texas National Guard soldiers arrive in Houston, Texas to aid citizens in heavily flooded areas from the storms of Hurricane Harvey.

Hurricane Harvey has upended so many things here in Houston, where I am starting my third year as a teacher. One of them is the lesson I am planning for the first day of school — as soon as it arrives.

This upheaval is nothing compared to what people across the city have faced, including my students, who have been sending me photos of evacuation boats going past their houses.

But it is fundamental to the task of being a teacher at a time of crisis. As an A.P. Human Geography teacher, my job is to help students make connections between the geography concepts we are learning in class and their real lives: Does Houston look like the models of urban development we study? Does their family history include a migration?

Before the storm, my thinking went like this: I am white and was born in England and most of my students are Hispanic, many with parents who were born in other countries. I was excited for us to share and compare our different stories. My students last year were shocked and fascinated when they discovered that my white, middle-aged father who is a university professor was applying for a green card, just as many of their family members were.

Now, Hurricane Harvey has underlined for me the importance of those real-world connections. As I looked at the photos from my students, I was struck by how geography concepts can affect us in very real — even life-threatening — ways.

I had planned to teach a lesson at the end of the year about how urbanization affects the environment. The lesson looks at how urbanization can exacerbate flooding: for example, how paving over grassy areas can increase the speed with which rain reaches the bayous, causing the water levels to rise faster. I would then have students evaluate different policies cities can adopt to mitigate that risk, such as encouraging the building on brownfield rather than greenfield sites and passing laws to protect farmland — options that have significant benefits but also significant costs.

I have decided to move this lesson up in the curriculum and teach it when we have school again. School is scheduled to start again on Tuesday, though at this stage everything is provisional, as each hour we find out about more families that have had their homes destroyed by the rising waters. It is still unclear how all our staff, let alone students, will get to school.

I am worried that the lesson could re-traumatize students who have experienced so much trauma in the past few days. I know I will need to make an active effort to make students feel comfortable stepping into the hall if they are feeling overwhelmed. However, my experiences with the recent presidential election make me think that this lesson is exactly what some students might need.

After the election, many students were genuinely confused about what had happened. One question in particular was on their minds: How you can you win the popular vote but not the election? We talked through the Electoral College together, and having clarity about what had happened and why it happened seemed to give them a firmer foundation to build on as they processed their emotions. I am hopeful that teaching about flooding will help ground them in a similar way.

This lesson about flooding was once simply another lesson in the curriculum, but now it has taken on a new urgency. In moments of disaster, it is easy to feel powerless; I certainly could not help the people I saw posting on Facebook that they were been on hold with 911 for hours while standing on their roofs.

Yet teachers have a unique power — the power to shape the minds of future generations to solve the problems that we face. Houston’s location means that it will always be susceptible to flooding. But by teaching about the flood I hope I can play a small role in helping our city avoid repeating some of the tragic scenes I witnessed this week.

Alex McNaughton teaches history and geography at YES Prep Southeast in Houston.

Looking to help? YES Prep is collecting donations to support its students and their families. Houston ISD and KIPP Houston are also soliciting donations for their students.