Why Paying Teachers More Would Help to fix our Educational System

Bottom line at the top:

Money won't cure all of the ills in education, but it will bring back a lot of the lost talent, and that will go a long way towards fixing things.

Now, the details:

A recent post on Reddit's r/Teachers subgroup postulated that the reason for the decay in education is "slack parenting and scared administrations." (Please note: this is copy-and-pasted. Errors are the original poster's errors, not mine.)

My take: Society doesn't realize that in just a very few years there will be almost no teachers who will put up with the abusive students, the parents who refuse to parent and the slack administrations who cow to obnoxious parents, for fear of a lawsuit.

They have no idea the crap that is going to hit, and the dramatic affect its going to have on society. Or maybe they do but don't have the bleep's to state it and act on it.

All administration's everywhere will continue to blame Covid and income disparity and socio- emotional in learning lacks, because no one would dare speak what needs spoken. It's so much more PC to blame nebulous, ambiguous, non-actionable entities than it is to hold the only parties that CAN make a difference accountable. 

The poster hit the nail square on the proverbial head. Bulls-eyed it. Aced it. Got it in one. But there's more.

Here's my response:

That's a big part of it. I think that we need to keep the focus on teacher pay, as well.

As long as would-be teachers can make more money for less work (and stress) (and no bullshit from the aforementioned admins and parents) elsewhere, those would-be teachers will continue to take jobs elsewhere. And current teachers will quit and leave the profession and go elsewhere, for the same reasons.

We have lost a lot of really good teaching talent to corporate America, because we're not willing to fight for them, to compete for them -- to attract them back to teaching. Teaching right now is a singularly unattractive profession. If you listen, you can hear the departing teachers muttering, "They don't pay me enough to put up with this shit," as they walk out the door.

Simply giving more money to the school districts is not the way to fix this. Most of the "more money" that we give to the districts gets siphoned off for capital improvements, mandates, pet projects, and back-office salaries. Very little of it ends up in the teachers' pockets. We have to find a way to get the money directly to the teachers.

Money won't cure all of the ills in education, but it will bring back a lot of the lost talent, and that will go a long way towards fixing things.

p.s. I'm convinced that those teachers who are still teaching have angel wings hidden under their jackets. Y'all are awesome. These comments are not intended to diminish you in any way.

On Teachers' Pay and Why It Matters

 I'm reading the book Think Again, by psychologist Adam Grant, and I noticed a footnote talking about the importance of paying your workers enough. Mr. Grant was speaking in general terms, but I think that this footnote on page 114 has special application to the teaching profession:

Pay isn't a carrot we need to dangle to motivate people -- it's a symbol of how much we value them. Managers [administrators, for schoolteachers] can motivate people by designing meaningful jobs in which people have freedom, mastery, belonging, and impact. They can show appreciation by paying people well.

It really is that simple. 

How to Fix the Teacher Shortage

America has a teacher shortage, and it's rapidly getting worse. Here's what we can do about it.

In these post-pandemic days, teachers are no longer hailed as the heroes that, in March 2020, overnight and on their own, transformed their classrooms into online classrooms and saved the American educational system.

(No, that's not an exaggeration. They really did that. It certainly wasn't the politicians or the buttheaded administrators that saved public education during the pandemic.)

Today, teachers are disrespected by their students and the students' parents, mistreated and abused by their school and district administrators, and exploited as pawns by politicians, ideologues, local activists, and greedy pirates masquerading as "private school corporations" and "charter school corporations."

After going to college or university for four years to earn a degree and a professional certification, they are paid less than babysitters and waiters, and held accountable for things beyond their control.

It's no wonder that teachers are quitting.

They're quitting in growing numbers, and they're not even waiting for the end of the school year. The Reddit group r/Teachers is full of stories of teachers quitting, and telling why they're quitting. It's heartbreaking.

And the rate at which teachers are permanently leaving the teaching profession is accelerating. Leaders are finally recognizing it, and they are starting to panic. The teacher shortage will soon become a genuine crisis, and it will affect every one of you, young and old, in profound ways.

What's to be done about it? I have some suggestions for the leaders who can do something about it.

Treat teachers like the professionals they are. 

Let the teachers design and execute the curriculum -- or give them the freedom to choose their curriculum from the many curricula offered by the textbook companies. Stop telling them how to do their jobs. And give them the budget and the tools they need to do their jobs.

It makes me furiously angry to see other people, non-teachers, trying to tell teachers how and what they should teach. Do you treat lawyers and doctors like this? How about computer engineers? Teachers are trained professionals. Leave them alone and let them do what they are trained to do.

Treat them with respect, and enforce that respectful treatment.

I could write an entire essay about this. 

Many teachers are leaving now because of the disrespect, the humiliation, the danger, that manifests itself daily, in many ways. Teachers deserve to be treated with respect -- from students, from parents, and especially from administrators.

And until they get that respect, they will keep marching out the door. Nobody pays them enough to treat them like this.

Also, protect and defend them. Wait a minute, I need to say that louder.

Protect and defend them!

Teachers are constantly threatened with physical violence, and they're not allowed to fight back. 

Likewise, teachers are harassed, both online and in person, by students and their parents -- and sometimes by members of the community -- and the administrators take no action to stop it.

In addition, teachers are falsely accused of all kinds of misconduct, usually by vindictive students and parents, and their cowardly administrators do not back them up.

For God's sake, keep politicians and ideologues out of the schools.

I really mean "for God's sake."

Here's one example of what happens when you let politicians and ideologues in the door.

Have you heard of Critical Race Theory (CRT)? Do you know a single school in your area where CRT is being taught? No, seriously: can you name a school near you, where CRT is part of the curriculum? Look as hard as you want. You won't find one.

Critical Race Theory (CRT) was developed in the 1970s and 1980s, and is an eye-opening way to view western history. The theory is debated at length at the university level, and some of its underlying ideas have been present in public schools since the 1970s. But the idea that CRT is taught in K-12 classrooms is a straw man, set up by politicians and ideologues just so they could knock it down, and so they could take control of the schoolhouse. Politicians, ideologues, and activists keep trying to force themselves into the educational process. No teaching will happen while we allow this. 

After the battle over CRT goes away, there will be something else to take its place.

Learning will happen, oh yes, but it will not be the kind of learning you want or expect. The unintended consequences of letting politicians and ideologues drive the educational process will haunt you, society, for at least an entire generation. 

Knock it off, already.

Get rid of standardized testing.

I could argue with you about this for hours. It's demeaning, it's misguided, it's a colossal waste of time and money, and it will go down in history as one of the biggest mistakes of this generation.

Standardized testing is a bullshit idea, promoted and administered by bullshitters. (Please excuse the profanity.)

PAY THEM PROFESSIONAL WAGES. 

I have written about this before.

Good grief, how can we expect a college-educated professional to stay motivated, when we pay them less than we pay our waiters and babysitters?! 

Teachers shouldn't have to go out and get second jobs, just to support their teaching habit.

Don't just give "more money" to the schools, or to "education". Make sure that money goes directly into the teachers' pockets.

Remember the old adage, "You get what you pay for."

Fix the family.

Teachers and public schools are not the cause of poor academic performance. Nor are they the cause of the problems with violence, disrespect, and dysfunction among the student body. Studies have testified to this, over and over again, and yet we keep laying the blame on the teachers and trying to fix things in the classroom. It's not the teachers' fault, and the fix isn't in the classroom.

The root cause of these problems lies with the family that each student comes from. Put the blame where it belongs, and fix the problem at the root cause: the family.

The Parable of the Good Samaritan: A Fresh Look

 All of you are familiar with the Parable of the Good Samaritan. It's found in the Bible, in Luke chapter 10, verses 25-37. The lesson in the parable is a powerful lesson, one that can apply to anyone, of any religious (or irreligious) stripe.

The Good Samaritan. Source: iStockPhoto

I'm not going to rehash the parable. You all know it — and if you don't know it, then grab a Bible and read it. If you don't have a Bible, go read it in Wikipedia. But I am going to tell you a modern story about the Parable of the Good Samaritan. It's ... well, you'll see.

I was once a Seminary teacher, and it was one of the greatest experiences of my life. In the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (the "Mormon" church), high school students start their day by attending a religious-studies class before school. It's called Seminary. It lasts from 6:00 to 6:50 a.m. Over four years, they study all the books that the Church considers holy scripture. It is hoped that, sometime during those four years, they are able to discover for themselves the reality of a resurrected and living Jesus Christ, the power that he has in their lives, and the future that he and his Father have in store for them.

(We can talk more about that some other time.)

Being a Seminary teacher is therefore a heavy responsibility. We're expected to teach the Gospel of Jesus Christ, through the power of the Holy Spirit, and in such a way that each student will hear or feel that Spirit inside themselves and gain their own witness of the truth, through a prayerful exercise of their own free will.

(We can talk more about that some other time, too.)

So one day, I was prepared to teach the Parable of the Good Samaritan. I had spent several days preparing this lesson, praying and pondering so that I could get it exactly right. In all of my teaching, I wanted the students to reach inside themselves and discover what these stories and these lessons meant for them in their lives. I didn't lecture, and I didn't rely solely on videos, either. I asked pointed questions and encouraged thoughtful discussion. For this lesson, I had planned to review the story in some detail, and afterwards to ask the students: "Therefore, what? What difference does this make in your life?"

(Wow. Most of the preceding paragraphs were background. Exposition. Setup. My story isn't as long as the setup.)

We lived about 1.5 miles from the church. I liked to get there around 5:30 to set up the classroom, do my final preparations, and greet the kids as they arrived. This morning I was behind schedule, and in a hurry to get there before 6:00.

Halfway there, I saw a minivan parked on the side of the road, with its four-way hazard lights flashing.

Yeah.

God wasn't even being subtle.

I looked up through the roof of the car, and cried out: "YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME! THIS ISN'T FAIR!" I didn't have time to stop. I had to get to the church building to get things ready. And according to Colorado state law, when you encounter a vehicle with its four-ways blinking, you're supposed to move one lane over, just like the priest and the Levite did in the parable, to give the disabled vehicle a safety margin.

But of course, I couldn't do that. I had to get to the church building, yes, but even more than that, I had to stop.

So I pulled over and parked in front of the minivan, walked over to the driver's door, and knocked on the window. The driver rolled down the window. It was a young mother and two young children. I asked, "Hi, are you in trouble? Is there a problem with your car? Is there something I can do to help you?"

She smiled, and said, "No, that's okay. I just called my husband and he'll be here in about five minutes."

I wished her good luck and, as I turned to go back to my car, I heard a sound like a pencil making a checkmark on paper, and a still, small voice saying, "You passed." I went to the church and taught my seminary lesson. At the end of the lesson I told my kids what had happened on the way to seminary that morning.

I have pondered repeatedly on this incident. It has become increasingly clear to me over the years that I could not have taught that parable with power and the Spirit, and delivered its lessons into my students' hearts, if I had not proven to my God and myself, and my students, that those lessons were deeply engraved in my own heart.

Apotropaic marks and whiteboards

Before I became a 7th-grade math teacher, I had an opportunity to test the waters of public education, by helping to teach an oversized 9th-grade math class. It was a great experience.

If I recall correctly, this class had three girls, not related to each other, named Aylee, Hailey, and Kaylee. I performed additional duties by tutoring one of them after hours. It might have been Aylee, but I can't remember any more.

This girl had a touch of either ADD or OCD, which made it hard for her to concentrate if there were any distractions. That's why she needed one-on-one tutoring. During our tutoring sessions, I would often stand at a whiteboard, marker in hand, explaining mathematical concepts. I had to erase the whiteboard regularly.

The first few times I erased the board, I would commence teaching the next concept, to be interrupted by the sounds of distressed grunting, almost squealing, from Aylee.

I would stop, look at her, and ask, "What?"

She would point to the board and splutter, "That mark! That mark!"

I would look at the board, see a tiny spot that I'd missed, and ask, "What about it?"

"Erase it! Make it go away!"

She could not do anything until the board was completely, perfectly, erased and clean.

So I learned to wipe the board and make it perfectly clean, because naturally I wanted to create an environment in which she could learn better. That's the kind of teacher I am. Was. Whatever.

But after a few sessions, I would wipe the board and make it perfectly clean, then pick up a marker and make a little, tiny, tick mark on the board, before saying "Now, then, ..." just to needle her. It worked every time.

I'm such a meany.

Yep. Just like this.

Will the real Common Core please stand up?

I've done some more research, and I think I found one of the reasons for all of the confusion.

---

EDIT, 20 JULY 2022: The links in this first section don't work anymore. To find out why, go to the end of this article.

This is NOT Common Core. This is Common Core, Inc. According to their website:

"We are a Washington, D.C. based non-profit 501(c)3 organization that seeks to ensure that all students, regardless of their circumstance, receive a content-rich education in the full range of the liberal arts and sciences, including English, mathematics, history, the arts, science, and foreign languages. Since 2007 we have worked with teachers and scholars to create instructional materials, conduct research, and promote policies that support a comprehensive and high-quality education in America’s public schools."

This is an organization that promotes itself as "a noted provider of CCSS-based curriculum tools. "

You can tell that they're not the REAL Common Core because:
(1) They "provide ... curriculum tools" based on the Common Core State Standards.
(2) Their website promotes three commercially-available curricula, namely Eureka Math, the Wheatley Portfolio, and the Alexandria plan.
(3) Their website also covers history and art, which are not part of the Common Core State Standards. The Common Core State Standards only cover mathematics and language arts.

I don't care what they call themselves, they are not COMMON CORE. They are Common-Core BASED, as far as that goes.

Let me add a qualifier here, and say that I've looked at their website, and I've looked at their offerings. Most of it is good stuff. These people know what they're doing. But some of them are not stuff I would use. And your child's teacher isn't being forced at gunpoint to use these materials.

---

This IS Common Core. This is the Common Core State Standards Initiative. According to their website:

"The state-led effort to develop the Common Core State Standards was launched in 2009 by state leaders, including governors and state commissioners of education from 48 states, two territories and the District of Columbia, through their membership in the National Governors Association Center for Best Practices (NGA Center) and the Council of Chief State School Officers (CCSSO). State school chiefs and governors recognized the value of consistent, real-world learning goals and launched this effort to ensure all students, regardless of where they live, are graduating high school prepared for college, career, and life."

These standards are the ones that are being voted upon in state legislatures and school districts, and the ones being promoted rather cackhandedly by the federal government. Nobody makes any money on this website or from these standards. Thousands of teachers have worked tirelessly over the years to bring this effort to fruition.

The Common Core State Standards are a good thing, a very good thing, as you will decide after you read the information on their website.

---

So, why the confusion? And who started using the term "Common Core" first? And why is commoncore.org allowed to continue using that name, which only adds to the confusion and the rancor on both sides?

I don't have a good answer to those questions. Part of the problem is that the CCSSI doesn't have a very strong branding, trademark or copyright policy. But one thing that needs to be clear is this: The CCSS and Common Core, Inc., are two separate and independent entities. A state or school district can adopt the CCSS and not buy a single thing from Common Core, Inc.

More about Common Core, Number Lines and the "Frustrated Parent" Bullshit

Well, the Independent Journal Review has resurrected the story of the Frustrated Parent and the Common Core math problem. The writer, Caroline Schaeffer, writes the story as if this were new news, ignoring the fact that the story is already seven months old.

The IJReview has an axe to grind with Common Core, as this Google search illustrates. The problem is that all of the examples they cite are NOT examples from Common Core. They are straw men. We've been through this argument before: Common Core is not a curriculum; it's only a set of standards. The IJReview, like so many other CC opponents, ignores this fact. They build up their own straw men, knock them down, and say "See? Common Core is bad."

If the writers (and the editors) at the IJReview would read the real Common Core stuff at the official CC website, they would understand. A little research with an open mind can dispel an awful lot of ignorance.

But enough of that. Right now, I want you to remember way, way back to your grade-school and middle-school days. You were pretty good at learning all of that addition and subtraction stuff. Do you remember the kids in class who weren't all that good? They were labeled "dumb" or "slow." They ended up sitting in the back of the room. When they got frustrated and acted out, they were labeled "problems."

Education research has come a long way since you were that young. Since then, researchers have discovered that different children learn in different ways, which they call learning styles.  Students with a strong logical or mathematical learning style pick up the vertical method of subtraction (the way you do it) very easily. Students who are weak in this area, but who have a strong visual or spatial learning style, such as artists, or who have a strong physical or kinesthetic learning style, like dancers and athletes, may not understand the vertical method at first.

These visual and kinesthetic learners, however, will understand the number line immediately. They can use it as a crutch, or as training wheels on a bicycle, until they get the idea well enough to move on to the vertical method.

Or would you rather that teachers did NOT use all the tools at their disposal to help their students learn? Should we abandon this number-line method, as Frustrated Parent and all of  his fans loudly proclaim? Would you rather go back to the days when the dumb kids and the slow kids were relegated to the back of the room, where they could be safely ignored? God forbid we should allow our teachers to use the tools that might make them successful!

I recently had lunch with one of my former students, now 20 years old and a junior at college. Before she came into my 7th grade math class, she didn't like math. She was one of the "slow" and "dumb" ones. In my class, we used a number line and a marching Gummy Bear to learn about addition and subtraction — of both positive and negative numbers. She tells me that she remembers that lesson  (even though she no longer uses a number line). It was a turning point for her, and the confidence she gained from that one exercise changed her life. She ended up taking advanced math classes in high school, and she will be graduating from college with a minor in mathematics.

Her major is education. She wants to be a teacher.

One final note. If you think that it's simple and easy to teach the vertical method of subtraction to children, including the very difficult concept of borrowing, then you probably also think it's simple and easy to teach the vertical method of multiplication (also known as "long multiplication"), don't you? I know you do. I've seen some comments in the anti-Common-Core articles decrying the "box method" and other modern methods of teaching multiplication, and demanding that teachers teach it "the way we learned it."

So let's watch the Animaniacs demonstrate the simple and easy vertical method of multiplication — the way you learned it. Click here.