So, here’s what I’m going to do: As I read each chapter I’m going to summarize its main points and important quotes/ideas. I think once you start reading you’re going to want to hear the rest. As we go through the book, I hope it sparks discussion and, at the very least, makes you feel more understood and appreciated like it has for me. Furthermore, I firmly believe that the message of this book needs to be our central mission as we go forward at the local, state, and federal level as we take the lead in the direction of education and its reform.

You can read the rest of Scott’s proposal here.

PART ONE
FROM CRITIC TO ALLY

CHAPTER 4
The Ever-Increasing Burden

I had no background in education, which made for a steep learning curve, but it turned out to be a huge asset. I had no vested interest in any program.

I had little understanding of just how much America’s public school students had changed.

Like so many outsiders, I had little understanding of just how much America’s public school students had changed. I was shocked to learn that twenty-two percent lived in poverty, the highest rate in the industrial world. And hundreds of thousands had no permanent address. I had no idea that forty percent of all students were minorities. The special education legislation of the 1970s had added to the school rolls millions of kids with special needs, some requiring intense intervention. Weak, incompetent parenting was forcing teachers and administrators to devote time and energy to rude and unruly children — children who were socialized by watching thousands of hours of television, children who were manipulated by a predatory commercial culture that skewed their values and instilled a dangerously overdeveloped sense of entitlement.

My growing understanding of the students led me to consider how much we had added to the curriculum since the first schools were established.

My growing understanding of the students led me to consider how much we had added to the curriculum since the first schools were established. In order to keep track of the additions, I was forced to develop a decade-by-decade list of all the academic, social, and health responsibilities that have been heaped upon our schools. I called my work product the “Increasing Buren On America’s Schools.”

At the beginning of the twentieth century, however, politicians, academics, members of the clergy, and business leaders saw public schools as a logical site for the assimilation of immigrants and the social engineering of the citizen — and workers — of the new industrial age. They began to expand the curriculum and assign additional duties. That trend has accelerated ever since.

The truth is that we have added these responsibilities without adding a single minute to the school calendar in six decades. No generation of teachers and administrators in the history of the world has been told to fulfill this mandate: not just teach children, but raise them!

. . .we have added these responsibilities without adding a single minute to the school calendar in six decades.

As shocking as the list is, no discovery about our public schools was more surprising or had a greater impact on my thinking than the amazing record of their success.

Contrary to public opinion, most of the traditional indicators of student success were not down, but up. Since the 1960s, enrollment and attendance were up. The average number of courses taken in high school and their degree of difficulty were up, as were the number of Advanced Placement courses taken and passed. Graduation rates were steady to slightly up. The number of graduates going on to college and the percentage of those who graduated with a degree were up — remarkably so for minorities. It was true that the average scores — what the media reported — were down, but this was because more kids from the middle and the bottom of the class were taking the tests. Even in the international arena, where public schools are much maligned, contrary to everything I had read and heard (and said), America’s children were performing at high levels.

. . .contrary to everything I had read and heard (and said), America’s children were performing at high levels.

All things considered, the record showed that every year since the 1983 release of A Nation at Risk, the people working in the vast majority of public schools had raised student achievement. Unfortunately, the record also showed that every year, America’s students fell further behind; the gap grew between what our kids knew and what they needed to know to succeed in a post-industrial society.

But we were never going to close the knowledge gap by continuing to assume that the system was sound and forcing an already overburdened workforce to work harder, not just over the short run, but forever. The Quality Movement to know that the top-down imposition of accountability measures that emphasized extrinsic rewards, sanctions, ridicule, and threats was not the path to excellence. At a bare minimum, we had to prepare almost every child for advanced learning in some post-secondary program, a feat that no society in the history of the world had even contemplated, let alone accomplished. A strategy of blaming, demonizing, and intimidating educators was no only futile, it was counterproductive.

And then, out of the blue, I read something that caused everything to fall into place.

My catastrophic moment was triggered by a single sentence written in the eighteenth century by one of our Founding Fathers. There was a major flaw in the system, and I knew what it was.

So, here’s what I’m going to do: As I read each chapter I’m going to summarize its main points and important quotes/ideas. I think once you start reading you’re going to want to hear the rest. As we go through the book, I hope it sparks discussion and, at the very least, makes you feel more understood and appreciated like it has for me. Furthermore, I firmly believe that the message of this book needs to be our central mission as we go forward at the local, state, and federal level as we take the lead in the direction of education and its reform.

You can read the rest of Scott’s proposal here.

PART ONE
FROM CRITIC TO ALLY
CHAPTER 3
An Aide for a Day

Human beings form assumptions to make sense of the world. Not all of our assumptions are correct. Over time, erroneous assumptions can coalesce to create cognitive illusions — distorted perceptions of reality. We accept things as facts that just ain’t so.

Our illusions are dangerous because they subvert our power of reasoning. They warp our worldview without our knowing it. We can make little progress toward comprehending the truth until they are identified and corrected.

My assumption regarding the problem with our schools is a perfect example. It grew out of superficial media coverage, political spin, my belief in the power of the free market, my suspicions about the efficiency of public institutions, and my near total lack of understanding of what actually goes on in our schools.

My assumption regarding the problem with our schools is a perfect example. It grew out of superficial media coverage, political spin, my belief in the power of the free market, my suspicions about the efficiency of public institutions, and my near total lack of understanding of what actually goes on in our schools. All these elements combined to convince me that our educators were the primary obstacles to reform. Teachers sat in their pension-feathered nests cloaked in tenure. Administrators shielded themselves behind a monopolistic bureaucracy where they used government rules and regulations as excuses for inertia. The only way we were going to get world-class schools was to hold these people accountable and force them to improve. I believed it all, and I said it all.

In the months that followed, I took tours of school buildings. I sat through board meetings that extended into the wee hours of the morning. I watched a principal and members of his staff fill out a mountain of forms required by the state and federal governments. I attended faculty meetings, and in doing so, I learned why teachers say that they hope to die in one.

Every visit was instructive and influenced my views. But the crushing blow came from a superintendent in a district on the Mississippi who invited me to spend an entire day working in his schools.

The day started with my doing bus duty at the elementary school, after which I was escorted to a third grade classroom to be a teacher’s aide. I spent the morning working with twenty-seven eight-year-olds, including one severe asthmatic, one confirmed victim of sexual assault, four identified with ADHD, two requiring speech therapy, and one sweet girl with cerebral palsy who required a full inclusion team. Sitting was not on the agenda.

At noon I was taken to lunch. They took me to the teachers’ lounge: a bunch of harried grownups using twenty minutes to inhale food, gossip, and cut out paper pumpkins, turkeys, wreaths, hearts, or shamrocks depending on the season. I managed to eat my sandwich and squeeze in a quick trip to the men’s room — my only one of the day — before running to be a playground monitor.

After lunch, I was taken to a middle school to work with eighth graders. Some looked like babies. Some, especially the young woman wearing a halter top and green eye shadow, looked twenty-three. I have since determined that no one is qualified to criticize public schools unless he or she has been locked in a room with a similar group.

When the final bell rang. I nearly wept with joy.

I was spared having to do any of the after-school chores that are routine for most teachers; I was not asked to grade papers, prepare lessons, or supervise extracurricular activities. Instead, the superintendent took me to his office to meet with his board president and the president of the local teachers’ association.

I was exhausted. I had not spent an entire day on my feet in years. My shoulders ached. My shins hurt. My hair was sticking out on the sides. I would have offered my firstborn for Advil and caffeine, and I wouldn’t have turned down a beaker full of gin.

In retrospect I realize that my hosts had taken a risk by inviting me to come. They gambled that anyone who worked in a school even for one day could not fail to be awed by the rigors of the job or moved by the effort and dedication of the people who teach.

I broke the silence. “This is hard, isn’t it? I have one question,” I said. “Is what I saw and what I experienced typical?”

“It is,” the superintendent said, “for ninety percent of the staff, ninety percent of the time.”

I felt a shift in my psyche, deep down where my cognitive illusions reside.

I felt a shift in my psyche, deep down where my cognitive illusions reside.

Admittedly, the day was harder for me because I was unprepared, but there was no way that anyone could walk away from this experience and argue that he educators were indifferent. Everyone I saw was working hard. Really hard.

Once again, I drove away from a school faced with the strong possibility that I’d been wrong.

Once again, I drove away from a school faced with the strong possibility that I’d been wrong.(I was getting tired of that.) I saw no teachers and administrators who were lazy or apathetic. I had no way of knowing if they were employing state-of-the-art practices in their classrooms, but they were smart, dedicated, and professional — intently focused on helping their students succeed. I was, however, still faced with the fact that something was wrong. Our schools were becoming dangerously out of sync with the needs of the time.

I continued to accept invitations to visit other districts, but I began to listen more than speak

I continued to accept invitations to visit other districts, but I began to listen more than speak. Soon, I had too much evidence contradicting my assumptions to sweep under the rug. My illusion gave way, and an unnerving question began to form in its place. What if we do not have a people problem? What if the problem is deep in the system?

This thought was sobering on two counts. First, it suggested that thirty years of reform initiatives aimed at changing behavior via performance incentives, teacher-proof materials, site-based councils, raised standards, wall-to-wall testing, and school takeovers were missing the core problem, which would explain a lot. Second, and much more vexing, fixing a people problem was a formidable challenge, but restructuring a massive, heavily regulated, culturally entrenched system was a task that was harder by a factor of a thousand.

So, here’s what I’m going to do: As I read each chapter I’m going to summarize its main points and important quotes/ideas. I think once you start reading you’re going to want to hear the rest. As we go through the book, I hope it sparks discussion and, at the very least, makes you feel more understood and appreciated like it has for me. Furthermore, I firmly believe that the message of this book needs to be our central mission as we go forward at the local, state, and federal level as we take the lead in the direction of education and its reform.

You can read the rest of Scott’s proposal here.

PART ONE
FROM CRITIC TO ALLY

CHAPTER 2
THE BLUEBERRY STORY

During my first year on the road, not once was I asked to speak to an education audience. It was no surprise. The vast majority of Iowa’s educators were openly hostile toward me as its messenger. I was, therefore, amazed and very pleased when I received an invitation to speak to the district staff in a small town in western Iowa. “Finally,” I exclaimed, “someone on the inside is going to listen and adopt our agenda.” In retrospect it is clear that the superintendent had other plans.

In addition, this was their only in-service (professional development) program for three months, and instead of hearing something useful about curriculum, instruction, or technology, they were forced to waste their precious time listening to me: a bully in a suit from the city. They were livid.

“He’s here from Des Moines representing a business group that’s been studying our problems, and he’s come to tell us what we are doing wrong.”

At 8:15 a.m. sharp, the principal of the school stepped to the podium and said, “Good morning.” “This is Mr. Vollmer,” he said without looking at me. “He’s here from Des Moines representing a business group that’s been studying our problems, and he’s come to tell us what we are doing wrong.” He then turned, and left the stage. I swear, you could have cut the animosity with a knife.

“This is a talk about change,” I proclaimed.

“This is a talk about change,” I proclaimed.

This sentence was immediately followed by a pronounced rustling noise. Teachers began to rifle their files, pull out notebooks, and openly grade papers in front of me.

But they were not going to bully me! I decided to up the ante. My tone became more strident, my rhetoric more negative.

“The status quo is killing us. We are not getting the workers that we need, and we’re falling behind our competitors. There has been enough tinkering at the edges and enough excuses. You have to look to the world of business to solve your problems. Business leaders invented Total Quality Management. We understand continuous improvement. Just-in-time delivery! Zero defects! We know that to produce real quality it is necessary to introduce benchmarked standards and meaningful accountability attached to serious rewards and penalties. I have to tell you. I wouldn’t be in business very long if I ran my company the way you run your schools.”

After about fifteen minutes, no one was grading papers. All pens and pencils were down, and they were glaring at me through clenched teeth.

After about fifteen minutes, no one was grading papers. All pens and pencils were down, and they were glaring at me through clenched teeth.

Thirty minutes later, I concluded my talk.

As I turned to exit the stage, I saw the superintendent standing in the wings. He was waving me back and whispering “Q and A. Q and A.”

It was then that I remembered that I had promised to do a question and answer session after my talk. Slowly I turned, and walked back to the podium.

As soon as I got there, a woman’s hand shot up, right in the middle of the room. I looked at her. She appeared to be pleasant — a nice looking woman of a certain age. I thought, “She’ll be polite. I’ll start with her.” I found out later that she was a razor-tongued, high school English teacher with twenty seven years on the job who had been laying in the bushes for me for about an hour.

I thought, “She’ll be polite. I’ll start with her.” I found out later that she was a razor-tongued, high school English teacher with twenty seven years on the job who had been laying in the bushes for me for about an hour.

“Mr. Vollmer,” she said, “we’re told you make good ice cream.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I replied. “Best ice cream in America.”

“How nice,” she said. “Is it rich and smooth?”

“Seventeen percent butterfat. Low overrun, which means minimal air content. Smooth and creamy. You would love it.”

“I assume, sir, that you use nothing but Grade A ingredients. Your flavorings, nuts and berries…”

“…Our specification to our suppliers is triple A.” I never saw the next line coming.

“Mr. Vollmer,” she said, leaning forward, “when you are in your factory, standing on the receiving dock, and you see a shipment of blueberries arrive, and those blueberries do not meet your triple A standards, what do you do?”

“Mr. Vollmer,” she said, leaning forward, “when you are in your factory, standing on the receiving dock, and you see a shipment of blueberries arrive, and those blueberries do not meet your triple A standards, what do you do?”

In the silence of that room, you could hear the trap snap. I was dead meat. I was  one minute away from being eviscerated, but I wasn’t going to lie.

“I send them back.”

Wham!

She pointed her finger at my face and said, “That’s right! You send them back. We can never send back the blueberries our suppliers send us. We take them big, small, rich, poor, hungry, abused, confident, curious, homeless, frightened, rude, creative, violent, and brilliant. We take them of every race, religion, and ethnic background. We take them with head lice, ADHD, and advanced asthma. We take them with juvenile rheumatoid arthritis, English as their second language, and who knows how much lead in their veins. We take them all, Mr. Vollmer! Every one! And that’s why it’s not a business. It’s school!”

We can never send back the blueberries our suppliers send us. We take them big, small, rich, poor, hungry, abused, confident, curious, homeless, frightened, . . .We take them all, Mr. Vollmer! Every one! And that’s why it’s not a business. It’s school!”

Before I could respond, all 290 of them jumped to their feet in an explosion of clapping and whistling and yelling.

My world would never be quite the same.

My friends in business have argued since that she painted with a broad brush. Sure she did — she had ninety seconds. I have, however, visited hundreds of schools since that day and her analogy remains apt. Unlike most businesses, public schools have no control over the quality of their “raw materials.” And, sadly, more damaged blueberries arrive every day.

. . .her analogy remains apt. . . And, sadly, more damaged blueberries arrive every day.

The business model has other flaws. I hear all sorts of righteous comments from businesspeople that our schools need to serve the customer, but no one can even agree on who the customers are. And none of these parties can agree on what they want as a finished product except in the broadest terms. Politicians and bureaucrats are left to define and endlessly redefine what children should know and when they should know it; they do this while being manipulated by a howling horde of organized, aggressive, well-funded special interest groups. Many of these groups have agendas that are directly at odds with the best interests of kids, and all of them know exactly how our schools should operate. I never saw anything like the lobbying brawl that surrounds our public schools.

Finally, there is the bizarre method of funding. Public schools are entirely dependent upon the mood of the general public as reflected in the vagaries of local, state, and federal politics. Superintendents and their boards often take months to craft reasoned and reasonable proposals for needed funds only to watch in horror on election night as they are defeated by a “citizens” antitax group animated by a grudge against the football coach.

There is no doubt that we can successfully graft certain business practices onto the unique culture of public schools. And we should. Aspects of the Quality Movement have much to offer, especially those that promote learning communities, feedback loops, long-term commitments to excellence, and quality professional development. But the more I learned about the system, the more certain I became that the blueberry lady was right.

I had the referent power of the entire political and business establishment at my back. That woman could have fumed in silence. Instead, she grit her teeth and pushed back. She hit the wall of negativity head on. She challenged my simplistic, self-serving arguments armed with nothing more than the knowledge born of her daily experience — in other words, the truth — and, in doing so, she forced me to rethink my views.

I may have been a jerk, my business prescription may have been simplistic, but I had no reason to doubt my diagnosis: the people were the problem.   Within weeks, I would be forced to rethink that, too.

As I reflected on my visit over the next few days, however, I began to regroup. My core belief was that our schools were not delivering the required results, and something needed to change. This belief had not been challenged. In fact, nothing the teacher said suggested that she and the others had any incentive to work hard to change the status quo. She just resented an outsider pushing reforms based on false assumptions. I may have been a jerk, my business prescription may have been simplistic, but I had no reason to doubt my diagnosis: the people were the problem.

Within weeks, I would be forced to rethink that, too.

So, here’s what I’m going to do: As I read each chapter I’m going to summarize its main points and important quotes/ideas.  I think once you start reading you’re going to want to hear the rest. As we go through the book, I hope it sparks discussion and, at the very least, makes you feel more understood and appreciated like it has for me. Furthermore, I firmly believe that the message of this book needs to be our central mission as we go forward at the local, state, and federal level as we take the lead in the direction of education and its reform.

You can read the rest of Scott’s proposal here.