Читать книгу The Education Invasion - Joy Pullmann - Страница 6
ОглавлениеWhat Happened to My Children’s School?
MICHELLE FURTADO’S SON and twin daughters attended the same schools in Fairhaven, Massachusetts. When the girls started middle school, three years after their brother, Furtado began noticing a marked difference in their school experience. Her son’s education had been “very disciplined and structured” since kindergarten, she told me over the phone, but with her daughters, “now we hold hands instead of doing our work.”
There was worry in Furtado’s Boston-accented voice. Her daughters were spending a lot of time in assemblies talking about feelings and playground altercations, leaving less time for class. Teachers had stopped assigning homework. To learn about medieval history in middle school, the students watched Monty Python and the Holy Grail, a campy British spoof film. At Christmastime, they saw the movie Elf. Furtado considered such things a huge waste of time her kids could otherwise spend actually learning.
“Had I not noticed what my son had, I would not have known what my daughters were not getting,” she said. “My daughters are getting far less than I got.” She thought the instruction had lost rigor and expectations had become too lax. “I don’t want my kids to have a pretty close answer. I want them to have the right answer.” Declining academic quality in American schools has been a subject of concern for nearly a century, but the recently launched Common Core State Standards Initiative, touted as a remedy, has hastened the intellectual and cultural descent.
Furtado views the loosening academic standards as a breach of contract. She has done her part for her children’s education, volunteering at school about twenty hours a week through the years, attending school board meetings or watching them on local television, and refusing to let her kids watch TV or play video games until their homework is finished. But her local schools are no longer doing their part.
“What I see just aches me,” she said. “I tell teachers, ‘I send my sponges to you.’ My kids have been read to and read to and read to. . . . When I see the school trying to destroy what I tried to build, it bothers me. If kids’ parents are not paying attention, they’re not going to see this.”
The biggest change Furtado noticed was in her daughters’ math classes. Like their brother, the girls had earned a place in advanced math when they entered middle school, which would have put them on track to complete algebra in the eighth grade. This in turn would have meant they could finish calculus in high school, giving them a high chance of success in any college pursuits involving math and science.
Massachusetts was one of only two states (along with California) that had rearranged its elementary curriculum in 2001 so more students could take algebra in eighth grade, which is standard in high-achieving countries. In 2010, more than half of Massachusetts students were completing algebra on that timetable. The state’s restructuring of its curriculum requirements, combined with tougher exams for teachers, was key to propelling Massachusetts from mediocre K–12 achievement to international distinction. In 2005, it became the first state to attain the top ranking in both math and reading at both of the tested grade levels on the National Assessment of Educational Progress, a set of tests the U.S. Department of Education administers to random samplings of children in every state at least every two years. Massachusetts repeated that feat in 2007 and 2009. It wasn’t only rich, white kids who benefited from high academic expectations, either. In fact, poor and minority children made the greatest gains.1 The state’s high expectations gave any child who happened to live in Massachusetts an edge over kids everywhere else in the country.
Furtado had been looking forward to seeing her girls achieve the same success in math that got their older brother into one of the state’s prestigious, competitive-entrance technical high schools. But when her daughters started attending Hastings Middle School in Fairhaven in fall 2011, she found that advanced math classes had suddenly disappeared. All the students in a grade were placed in the same math class. High achievers like the Furtado girls could take an additional “enrichment period” every other day, but would not receive advanced instruction in the new, mandatory math class.
Alarmed at the loss of high-quality math instruction for her daughters, Furtado emailed a math teacher to ask what happened. The teacher explained that a consultant had ended the advanced math classes and recommended a new curriculum called the Connected Math Program (CMP). Over protests from the math department, administrators insisted that teachers use the program, which is notorious for promoting “fuzzy math” in which kids spend more time discussing hypothetical scenarios that involve math than learning to do math procedures. “Many students struggled with the program,” the teacher wrote to Furtado, “but we were told by [the consultant and the principal] that we were not getting rid of CMP and that the students would get better with it as time went on.”
After a few months of talking with other parents and quizzing teachers and administrators to find out why her daughters were getting less rigorous math instruction than her son had received, Furtado stumbled onto something much larger than the Connected Math Program. She learned that Massachusetts had recently joined most of the other states in replacing their curriculum requirements with a new set of national standards. “I finally came across Common Core,” she said, “and all the puzzle pieces fell into place.”
What Is Common Core?
The Common Core State Standards are a 640-page set of blueprints for K–12 math and English curriculum and tests. This initiative is the biggest education overhaul in the United States since No Child Left Behind, which in 2001 mandated that schools focus on standardized tests in math and reading in exchange for a gush of federal funds, and established penalties for low-performing schools such as forced restructuring, mass staff layoffs, open enrollment in nearby districts, and loss of funds. But NCLB left it to the states to formulate their own standards and tests. Common Core goes further: it specifies what a set of unelected committees thought every child should “know and be able to do” at each grade level. The introduction to the curriculum requirements says the document lays out “a vision of what it means to be a literate person in the twenty-first century.” That vision somewhat resembles the way we think of our electronic devices: “The Standards are intended to be a living work,” the introduction explains, so “as new and better evidence emerges, the Standards will be revised accordingly.”2
The Common Core idea of “a literate person in the twenty-first century” differs fundamentally from the conception of the human person that inspires classical education, a more timeless and transcendent view of human nature. In the classical vision, the human person has a soul that needs to be nourished on what is enduringly good, true, and beautiful, as expressed in civilized man’s greatest achievements — in literature and art, in politics and science. Classical education also equips children with time-tested intellectual tools to navigate the world, including efficient ways of doing math.
Common Core falls short in both respects — in building a solid foundation of cultural knowledge and in teaching practical skills. Instead, it serves up cumbersome process requirements wrapped in obscure jargon. Here’s the kindergarten English standard labeled RF.K.3.b (which is code for Reading: Foundational Skills, Kindergarten, standard 3.b): “Associate the long and short sounds with the common spellings (graphemes) for the five major vowels.” This might sound sophisticated to many adults, but it’s almost completely incoherent, as Dr. Terrence Moore demonstrates:
Presumably the authors of the standard are telling teachers to teach children the long and short sounds of the vowels. But that is not what it says. Rather, students are supposed to associate (know?) the long and short sounds when they see “the common spellings . . . for the five major vowels.” What?
Now ask yourself: How many ways are there to spell the letter A? I can only think of one, unless you mean to distinguish between capitals and lower case, which is not what is being said. A is always spelled A. . . . Why learn only the short and long sounds? Every vowel except for e has more than a long and a short sound. The letter A, for example, has four sounds: /ă/, /ā/, /ah/, /aw/, as in at, tape, want, talk. Consider the word father. You do not call your father your făther, nor your fāther. Yet this simple truth about the code that is the English alphabet is lost on the very people who are in charge of writing “standards” for our children’s schools.3
This is just one example of the nonsense that “education experts” have determined to be the optimal way to teach language skills. Moore collects many others in The Story Killers: A Common-Sense Case Against the Common Core. His book is the place to go for a thorough critique of the standards and the kind of curriculum they spawn.
Common Core kills stories in part by recommending that children read progressively less fiction and more “informational text” as they go through school.4 It suggests assigning sections of the U.S. Code, for instance, which consumes time that could be better spent on studying classic literature. The emphasis on nonfiction does not mean students will get a solid grounding in a cohesive body of cultural knowledge, as some proponents have claimed. Far from it. An appendix to Common Core does mention elements of cultural knowledge that are central to a classical education, but it mangles them, as Moore points out. For example, it selectively quotes the Bill of Rights and then recommends blatantly biased secondary materials to interpret it as a racist, sexist document. As for the fiction on the recommended reading list, some of it is rather disturbing. The list for high school students includes The Bluest Eyes, a Toni Morrison novel featuring graphic descriptions of pedophilia, incest, and child rape.5 Among the other books on the list are Black Swan Green and Dreaming in Cuban, which also include graphic descriptions of sex and sexual violence.6
While the language standards are deficient in the good and beautiful, the math standards bring counterproductive complication to the enduringly true. Common Core introduces standard mathematical algorithms a year or two later than the world’s highest-achieving countries do, and it revives what was mocked as “fuzzy math” not long ago. The document is replete with calls for “visual models” and time-wasting techniques for solving problems, as in this “number system” standard for sixth grade (6.NS.1): “Interpret and compute quotients of fractions, and solve word problems involving division of fractions by fractions, e.g., by using visual fraction models and equations to represent the problem. For example, create a story context for ⅔ divided by ¾ and use a visual fraction model to show the quotient . . . .”7 This kind of demand drew a vigorous critique from Marina Ratner, an internationally respected professor emerita of mathematics at the University of California at Berkeley. “Who would draw a picture to divide ⅔ by ¾?” she asked. “This requirement of visual models and creating stories is all over the Common Core. The students were constantly told to draw models to answer trivial questions.” What’s worse, “A student who gives the correct answer right away (as one should) and doesn’t draw anything loses points.” In Ratner’s judgment, the Common Core math standards are inferior not only to those of high-achieving countries but also to the old California state standards.8
A mother in Indiana named Heather Crossin learned about the new demands for inefficient methods in fall 2011, around the same time Michelle Furtado began her investigation. Crossin’s third-grade daughter brought home an assignment to determine which of two bridges was longer, one that measured 448 feet or another that was 407 feet, and to explain how she arrived at her answer. Simple enough, right? The girl correctly picked the 448-foot bridge, but the teacher marked her answer incorrect because she hadn’t returned a scripted response to the question of how she knew, like this: “I compared the addends in the hundreds column, and saw that four and four were equal. Then I compared the addends in the tens column, and saw that four was greater than zero. Then I compared the addends in the ones column, and saw that eight was larger than seven.”9 Crossin objected, saying her daughter could practice ten math problems in the time it would take to answer a single one in that fashion. She thought such a time-wasting exercise deprived her daughter of practical math fluency, and the research backs her up.10
Frustrated parents across the nation have been piling up examples of similarly convoluted or incomprehensible math assignments on social media. Young children are taught to add by making hundreds of dots. Traditional ways of doing arithmetic — such as stacking numbers and adding up the columns from right to left — are prohibited. Math problems require many more steps than necessary. Children cry over homework assignments that take them (and their parents) hours to figure out. Parents wonder why the “experts” are making things so complicated and abandoning methods that have worked for generations.
Spreading Tentacles
Common Core starts by dictating what kids must encounter in class, but then it goes much further. Its creators and supporters have linked that one set of documents with myriad other mandates and programs, so its tentacles extend across the whole educational landscape. That wide reach is achieved mainly through the second major component of Common Core: the federally funded tests that influence not just curriculum, but also school funding, teachers’ job security, data collection on kids, college acceptance, and much more.
Because the SAT and the ACT (the main national college entrance exams) and the GED (a test that can be taken in place of completing high school) have been aligned with Common Core, these curriculum benchmarks are affecting schools that technically don’t have to follow them — charter schools, private schools, even homeschools — and their influence filters into the handful of states that have not signed on. So almost every school in the country has been scrambling to adjust its curriculum to meet what Common Core demands. It’s fair, then, to say that the Common Core apparatus touches virtually everything about American education.
Common Core is as big a change in education as Obamacare is in health care, but unlike Obamacare it needed no votes in Congress to become national policy. It garnered practically no notice from the media before the Obama administration, in concert with largely unelected state bureaucrats and a shadow bureaucracy of private organizations, locked it in nationwide. That meant no public debate before the scheme was imposed upon a country supposedly run with the consent of the governed. Reams of substantive criticism have emerged only after the fact, along with data indicating that Common Core has actually set back student achievement.
Let’s look again at the National Assessment of Educational Progress, where Massachusetts made impressive gains after its curriculum revision in 2001. NAEP results in 2015 showed a small decline in math scores — a reversal of the upward trend. In the interim, Massachusetts had lowered its math standards to match most other states, instead of remaining an exemplar that motivated them to reach higher. Because Massachusetts still ranked ahead of the other states overall, the outgoing education secretary, Arne Duncan, held it up as a national model for education.11 A sensible education policy would have expanded on what Massachusetts had been offering its children when the NAEP scores were climbing. Instead, Duncan spent his tenure in the Obama administration pushing America’s schools in a different direction. That may explain why nearly every other state showed declining student achievement across subjects, especially math, for the first time in twenty-five years — that is, since the NAEP began measuring achievement in every state.
According to Tom Loveless, an education researcher at the Brookings Institution, many schools have been using the Common Core mandates to justify reducing their math expectations. NAEP data showed that the percentage of schools teaching algebra in the eighth grade had dropped in 2015 for the first time in a decade, from 33 percent to 29 percent nationally.12 Parents throughout the San Francisco Bay Area and elsewhere were complaining because their middle schools had changed algebra from an eighth-grade default to a special class only for advanced students — because of Common Core.
Michelle Furtado and Heather Crossin were far from the only parents spurred to ask questions about what was happening to her children’s education. As Common Core has unfurled in schools across the country, public opposition has swelled.13 Angry citizens have been pressing their elected representatives to reassess their states’ commitment to the national standards and associated tests. But instead of backing down, Common Core’s advocates are digging in and sneaking their scheme in through the back door whenever it’s sent out the front.
At its heart, Common Core is about who controls education. With its bureaucratic enforcement structure and centralized, command-and-control model, it accelerates the nationalization of American education, further eroding our tradition of local school governance. And few Americans — parents or teachers — have been given the chance to participate in deciding whether this is something our country really wants.
