Any given motivational speaker, military commander, coach or public  school teacher is likely to utter the words "failure is not an option,"  but No Child Left Behind took the meaning of the statement to new  extremes.
Literally . . .failure is NOT an option.
While I was building my basketball brand I spent more than a decade  working in and around public schools, specifically as a special  education teacher. I had the "bad" kids, which really just means I had  the kids everyone had given up on. They were the ones carrying labels  like ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder), ADHD (Attention Deficit  Hyperactivity Disorder) or even the dreaded ODD (Oppositional Defiant  Disorder), and essentially it was my job to just keep them out of sight  and out of the office.
Ironically, it wasn't my kids who were having the real problems . . .it was the "normal" kids.
A big part of my job was to help the behaviorally-challenged students  try to integrate into mainstream classes, and as such I spent a great  deal of time in regular high school classrooms with the regular high  school kids. I saw the way teachers were being forced to teach to the  end-of-the-year test, and I heard stories about how they weren't allowed  to fail students except under extreme circumstances. 
That's right - no matter how poorly a student performed (or how seldom  they showed up to class), failure was simply not allowed. I even had one  friend, a very good Algebra teacher, who was ultimately fired because  she refused to pass a group of students who didn't deserve to pass. And  trust me, they didn't deserve to pass.
Something has happened to public school kids since the time I was in  school. Back in my day - which really wasn't THAT long ago - the very  idea of calling a teacher a name or even threatening a teacher was  absolutely unheard of. What's more, if I had ever dared to do such a  thing my parents would have put me so far under ground I would never  have been heard from again. Disrespecting teachers simply was not  something I could have ever gotten away with.
Now it's practically commonplace. And don't bother send the offending  student to the office because they'll be right back in your classroom 10  minutes later with a satisfied smirk on his/her face, ready to repeat  the offense because there really was no consequence for doing it the  first time.
But attitude problems are really only the beginning of the issue. Many  of today's students simply won't do the work, to an extent that the  principal of the school where I worked actually made a rule that  teachers were not allowed to count homework for a grade. You see, so few  kids were doing their homework that it was bringing down the school's  collective GPA. 
One might think that the solution was a stricter homework policy, but  no, in today's public schools we take the path of least resistance. All  homework should be considered optional, and never taken for a grade.
Truancy is also a growing problem, with kids often missing so many days of class that they couldn't even be gifted  a passing grade. Still, failure is not an option. No, to deal with that  little issue our school district came up with a little thing called  Credit Recovery, where students can pay $10 per class at the end of the  semester and sit in the cafeteria after school for three hours and have  their missing credits magically restored. What's really great is that  they are not allowed to talk, interact with anyone, or even work on the  classwork they missed during that time. It was a great money-maker for  the school, but had absolutely no redemptive quality as far as  recovering the information that was lost.
So Joe Truant skips boring old Algebra I for a semester, shows up at the  end and pays his $10, and now he has credit for first semester Algebra  I. He is now assigned second semester Algebra II . . .and you can see  where we're going. Math builds on itself, so a student who didn't bother  to show up for Algebra I has no prayer of passing Algebra II, but don't  worry - the teacher will either be required to pass the student anyway  or, if enough classes are missed, he can always show up and pay for  credit recovery again in the Spring.
And the cycle repeats.
So my question is this: At what point did failure become a bad thing?
When I was in second grade there was a girl in my class who was supposed  to be in third grade, but she had failed and was sentenced to repeat.  That made an impression on me, I can tell you. I was never  allowed to get a failing grade, mind you, or even a C, really, but if my  parents weren't motivation enough seeing that girl get held back was  more than enough for me to get the picture. I didn't want to see all my  friends move on while I sat back in the dunce chair.
That failure taught my friend a lesson, but it also taught everyone  around her a lesson. She never failed again, and wound up graduating the  same year I did. Lesson learned.
No one wants to see a child fail a grade. It's embarrassing, as much as  anything else. But it's a far worse offense to pass a child who hasn't  earned the passing grades, as doing so creates a permanent welfare case  for the public schools. Why work when you have figured out that it's not  necessary?
Where's the logic behind this change in public education? What is the  end result? At no time in Joe Truant's life is he going to get something  for nothing. If he is late for work, he gets fired. If he goes to  college, no professor is going to give a passing grade to a student who  never does the work. In short, we're handicapping kids . . .possibly for  life.
Failure should never be encouraged, and everyone involved - students,  teachers, parents and even administrators - should work hard to try and  avoid that outcome. Still, if, at the end of the day, despite everyone's  best efforts, a student simply earns a failing grade . . .the only  outcome that's in the best interest of the student is to receive the  grade they have earned.
Failure should be an option once again.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Prison: The Texas Education Solution?
In Texas, we have a funny way of looking at children who can't read on grade level at the end of third grade.
We decide they're going to jail.
Crazy, you say? I completely agree. But that doesn't make it any less true.
The story has gone viral now, but in case you've missed it, Texas and California are among the states who begin planning the need for more prison cells based on the number of third graders - specifically, third grade boys of color - who are unable to read on grade level at the end of third grade.
You see, statistics show that children who fall into that category - boys of color who can't read on grade level - are more than likely going to wind up in prison.
It's a startling realization; impressive, even. What is NOT IN THE LEAST BIT impressive is the reaction to the statistic. We identify a very specific group of children who are on a path to destruction that will damage society at least as much as it will the children themselves, and our collective response is to start building new prisons?
Sounds expensive.
It sounds a heck of a lot more expensive than just spending extra time teaching third graders to read!
Setting aside for the moment that many prisons are private corporations, and thus make large donations to public officials who also make decisions about educational programming, let's take a rational look at what should be the obvious solution to this problem.
The estimated cost of housing a prisoner in Texas is roughly $15,000 a year, and that's not couting the cost of building the prison, merely the cost of feeding and clothing a prisoner for a year. That's money taxpayers are shelling out to provide room and board to someone who, 85% of the time, is functionally illiterate.
How many teachers could be hired with that money, considering the average public school teacher in Texas has something like 150 students under their care per semester?
Some simple math reveals that if we gave each reading teacher the money that would otherwise be spent making students future wards of the state, we could pay them something in the neighborhood of $150,000 a year if they only taught 10 students.
How many great teachers would return to the profession for that kind of money?
I know more than a few.
It would be more than a cost saving, of course, because if the program results in preventing crimes before they are committed there is a tremendous savings to society in the forms of crimes that aren't committed.
The other factor is that teaching third graders to read can be REALLY fun! I know. I've done it. Heck, I've taught ninth and tenth graders to read, and from the moment they decode their first word they tend to get hooked. Granted, I didn't teach this ridiculous word recognition method that so many schools use today. I used the good, old fashioned method of teaching sounds first and words second. There's nothing like a Dr. Seuss book to teach words like "cat," "hat," and "mat," and once you have kids excited about The Cat In The Hat the possibilities are endless.
So sign me up. Let's take that $15,000 a year we're spending to house illiterate criminals and put it to work preventing them from become criminals in the first place.
It makes a lot more sense than giving up kids after third grade, passing them through the education system so Rick Perry and his ilk can take campaign donations from private prisons and then use taxpayer money to run them.
We decide they're going to jail.
Crazy, you say? I completely agree. But that doesn't make it any less true.
The story has gone viral now, but in case you've missed it, Texas and California are among the states who begin planning the need for more prison cells based on the number of third graders - specifically, third grade boys of color - who are unable to read on grade level at the end of third grade.
You see, statistics show that children who fall into that category - boys of color who can't read on grade level - are more than likely going to wind up in prison.
It's a startling realization; impressive, even. What is NOT IN THE LEAST BIT impressive is the reaction to the statistic. We identify a very specific group of children who are on a path to destruction that will damage society at least as much as it will the children themselves, and our collective response is to start building new prisons?
Sounds expensive.
It sounds a heck of a lot more expensive than just spending extra time teaching third graders to read!
Setting aside for the moment that many prisons are private corporations, and thus make large donations to public officials who also make decisions about educational programming, let's take a rational look at what should be the obvious solution to this problem.
The estimated cost of housing a prisoner in Texas is roughly $15,000 a year, and that's not couting the cost of building the prison, merely the cost of feeding and clothing a prisoner for a year. That's money taxpayers are shelling out to provide room and board to someone who, 85% of the time, is functionally illiterate.
How many teachers could be hired with that money, considering the average public school teacher in Texas has something like 150 students under their care per semester?
Some simple math reveals that if we gave each reading teacher the money that would otherwise be spent making students future wards of the state, we could pay them something in the neighborhood of $150,000 a year if they only taught 10 students.
How many great teachers would return to the profession for that kind of money?
I know more than a few.
It would be more than a cost saving, of course, because if the program results in preventing crimes before they are committed there is a tremendous savings to society in the forms of crimes that aren't committed.
The other factor is that teaching third graders to read can be REALLY fun! I know. I've done it. Heck, I've taught ninth and tenth graders to read, and from the moment they decode their first word they tend to get hooked. Granted, I didn't teach this ridiculous word recognition method that so many schools use today. I used the good, old fashioned method of teaching sounds first and words second. There's nothing like a Dr. Seuss book to teach words like "cat," "hat," and "mat," and once you have kids excited about The Cat In The Hat the possibilities are endless.
So sign me up. Let's take that $15,000 a year we're spending to house illiterate criminals and put it to work preventing them from become criminals in the first place.
It makes a lot more sense than giving up kids after third grade, passing them through the education system so Rick Perry and his ilk can take campaign donations from private prisons and then use taxpayer money to run them.
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