The C&I Dog

I started teaching in the second half of the last century. Teaching was different then. We had to share overhead projectors as they had yet to finish the total 30 year transition from bowling alleys to classrooms. To duplicate materials we used purple ditto masters and cranked machines from which the duplicating fluid either made you high or sick. Xerox was around, but only in the principal’s office and only one copy at a time. Chalk boards and text books were the staple of the day and I went home each afternoon with a headache from the duplicating fluid and fingers covered in chalk dust, transparency pen ink and purple ditto ink. There was no standardized testing, there was no accountability for dropout rates, there was no state description of what should be taught, there was no state required system of teacher evaluation, and there was no universal state system of holding teachers, schools and districts accountable. There was no real curriculum. The curriculum was what the teacher said it was, period. Grades were what the teacher said they were, period.

I reported for work at the ripe old age of 23, was given a text book, teacher edition of same, and keys to my room. The principal wished me good luck. I discovered later that I was being evaluated by a check list that included how many kids I sent to the office, whether I called in sick too much, and whether I faithfully fulfilled the duties of turning in lesson plans and potty patrol. Women had to wear dresses and stockings, and men had to wear ties.

Ah, were these the good old days of public education? Kids who misbehaved were simply encouraged to drop out because dropping out was not a problem, it was a solution. Kids with needs and disabilities beyond what we were equipped to serve were sent home. Kids who chose their parents poorly and arrived at our door with the wrong amount of skin pigment were sent elsewhere. And there was absolutely no provision for the kids who arrived at the door not able to speak English. They sank or swam.

I digress.

I was fortunate to work in a district where some of the folks read professional books and journals. There was this growing notion about aligning curriculum, stating an objective, teaching to that objective and measuring whether your kids successfully mastered such an objective. Emphasis was on decoding the curriculum to identify the key learnings inherent in each discrete body of knowledge now known as the core subjects. Additional emphasis was placed on both planning lessons to meet and achieve those objectives and on developing assessments that in fact measured what one taught. In other words, I was very lucky to participate in staff development on the topic of curriculum and instruction.

I remember a large committee composed of parents, members of the community, principals, teachers and central office “experts” who convened to review my particular curriculum. The goal was to write our curriculum. We read authors about curriculum writing. We scoured research on our particular area, and we looked at the text book. As our curriculum took shape it became clear to all of us that the book did not cover all that we wanted, and the sequence of chapters did not match our own intuitive design. The book became a resource in my classroom. The curriculum became my guide.

But there were others who had years of files and folders to supplement the book and they had not participated in the process of writing the curriculum. I had ownership because I did. Others did not and simply wanted to be left alone. The blessing for me was that I now had some knowledge beyond writing the objectives I was required to write for lesson plans. I understood scope and sequence. I understood scanning research to identify the essential components of teaching this subject. I was thrilled with the new curriculum, locally developed and implemented, for the most part. I was just beginning to read books on instructional strategies and planning instructional episodes to maximize student success when after 10 years in the classroom I was bumped into administration.

Years and degrees later, I was hired as an assistant superintendent for curriculum and instruction. Oh boy, I thought. Now I can get back to the classroom and instruction that I have always loved. The month before taking the job I read recent authors and former authors on curriculum and instruction, assuming if I were to serve as an assistant supe for C&I I ought to know the best thinking about C&I. I read Glatthorn, De Vore, Taba, Erickson, Levy, Wiggins, Costa, Jacobs, Marzano and Vygotsky. When I showed up for work I was ready. I was a C&I guru. I quickly discovered such expertise was not needed.

The state had assumed all the expertise for curriculum and instruction. Committees of folks in Austin had written Essential Elements (EE’s) of all the subjects taught in Texas. Step 1 in the curriculum development process. The state was mandating a standardized test to measure whether those essential elements were taught. Step 3 in the process. What the state had not mandated was the instructional episodes (step 2) to fulfill the goal of teaching the EE’s. The state also had developed systems to hold teachers, schools and districts accountable based on these tests, and accountable for dropout rates, and accountable for special needs kids and non-English speaking kids. The wisdom necessary to write such documents had clearly shifted from classroom and district to Austin. We now had a standardized curriculum and standardized testing to assess our kids and schools. I could be dumber now, because they state had gotten so smart.

We know the state is not so smart. We know that curriculum decisions in Texas are not made based on expertise, collaborative input and best practice. They are made for political reasons. The State Board approves our curriculum, now called TEKS (I pronounce that acronym TEX, though some, with a lack of English background I suspect, call it TEEKS). The State Board engages in huge political uproar over the TEKS, especially in science where we dare teach evolution and not creative design (yes, when we know truth we continue to subjugate truth to belief. Galileo would be right at home. Next, we’ll teach that thunder is caused by gods bowling – using an overhead projector to keep score.) In economics and government we must stress free enterprise for all the good that has done us, and the conservative interpretation that less government is best. There are level heads at the state level, but when those good people identify themselves they tend to be solidly defeated by those who have a given perspective and cannot tolerate anyone else thinking another way. God Lord, that would be democratic.

After what appears to be constant revision of the TEKS we revise our standardized test that measures these itty-bitty curriculum bites. Pearson is thrilled because they are making a fortune revising, field-testing, administering and publishing the results of such tests. The content frequently changes and the test follows suit. Not only are C&I folks aiming at a moving target, they do so unarmed because the state plays “I’ve got a secret” with the test and no one knows what the questions will look like. A far cry from good instructional practice wherein teachers know what they want the kids to know, tell the kids, teach the kids, and then administer an assessment aligned with all of that so that no one is surprised.

The other really new component for C&I folks is private vendors. Yes, the free enterprise system wants to cash in on tax dollars aimed at public schools. (Wonder if they have really thought that through, however. If we continue to cut budgets we will have to cut vendors. One would think those who produce for and sell to the education market would be staunch supporters of increasing public ed. dollars. Nope, they vote and contribute to the group who wants less money and more accountability.) C&I people now have become software vendor evaluators and trainers. This company can teach your kids if your teachers cannot. This company can organize your curriculum if you cannot. This company can provide sample lessons if your teachers cannot. This company has a strategy that will improve test scores, etc., etc. I am amazed that newly hired C&I folks spend most of their early days on the job learning software, not C&I and not what goes on in the classrooms. That has become irrelevant. Though the issue should be instructional coaching, C&I people are more in the business of assessment and vendor product implementation. If you want to stump a C&I person when they make their next report at a board meeting, raise your hand and ask if they think the TEKS are philosophically more attuned to Glatthorn or Levy. If they know of these two fine researchers I would be amazed. One might also ask if we need C&I anymore given that all those functions are driven by the state. We need an assessment coordinator, we need a compliance coordinator, we need a federal programs coordinator, but what the heck does C&I do anymore? One person clearly cannot become the instructional coach for all subjects K-12.

All of this has led to the dummy down effect on teachers and C&I folks. If the state knows best what we should teach, and how we should teach, and how we should measure what we should teach, then where are my professional credentials and what are they worth? Teachers no longer engage in an analysis of their own content and struggle to write scope and sequences. They get trained in the state requirements. And since C&I folks have lost the real expertise implied in their positions they spend more time learning the state requirements than critiquing and standing up and saying this is poppycock and balderdash.

For political reasons the state has become head of C&I in Texas. It is the dog that leads us around. We blindly follow the C&I Dog.

Sadly, that dog don’t hunt.