(by Amber Dembowski)
When I was young, my family and I lived outside of a very small town. It’s so small that it’s actually called a village and it takes exactly 13 minutes to walk from one side of the town to the other. Back in the days of living there, the town was thriving with a bank, a hardware shop, a grocery store, a post office and a restaurant. Now, most of those places have closed, and there is very little activity on the main street. However, back in the 80’s when it was thriving, my mom had a craft store at the edge of this brick paved thoroughfare.
When school was dismissed each day, I’d walk from school, across the city park, to my mom’s craft store. Once arriving, I remember hanging out in the craft store looking through all of the greeting cards she’d stocked on the shelves earlier that day, and playing with crafty items that she set aside for me.
One really cold day, I bundled up after school but didn’t have any gloves. It was extremely windy so I pulled up my hood and zipped my purple marshmallow knee-length winter coat, tucking my hands inside of my pockets. I headed out for Mom’s craft store. My intended outcome was to get to the store where I knew she’d have a space heater running under her desk. I couldn’t wait to feel that warmth blasting on me. I was running as fast as my legs would let me with my long coat limiting my strides. When I was merely 20 feet away from the store, all of a sudden … thud … my feet got tangled up and I fell flat on my face … with my hands stuck in my pockets. Yep, that’s right. There was no way to soften the blow. I went face first in the most unideal location of the entire park. The park had a concrete pad with a water faucet, and of course, this is where my feet chose to give way. I face planted right onto the hard surface barely missing the faucet itself. I was focused on my outcome of getting to the warm store and didn’t think about my actions I needed to take to get there safely. I didn’t slow down to stabilize my steps. I didn’t keep my hands out of my pockets to catch myself if I fall. No, I was focused solely on one thing and one thing only. Warmth. And even though I eventually got there, I failed miserably on the way, and I still have the proof in my second grade school picture with a giant scrape on my chin, nose and forehead where my face kissed the concrete the day prior.
You may be wondering why I’m sharing this childhood story, and it’s because I believe a lesson can be learned here: Focusing too much on only the outcome can be painful.
Many educators are focusing way too much on the wrong measurements. Student performance outcome data. Think about it. We create our school improvement plans and we’re pulling student data, drilling down to identify where the gaps are, and periodically tracking student progress. Teachers and schools are setting goals, and these goals are all student performance oriented as well. Right? Raise your hand if you’ve been a part of a school goal that included increasing student achievement in the area of English Language Arts by 5%. My hand is high in the air too. I get it. It’s important! And we love data!
Here’s what’s key, we both know that when we’re looking at student performance it is a direct reflection of the teaching happening in the classroom, no doubt.
So, if you know that the instructional practices are what makes the difference in student learning, and I know that the instructional practices are what makes the difference in student learning, then why aren’t we measuring the instructional practices taking place in the classroom on a consistent basis outside of our evaluation process?
If you’re not sure of the answer, I’ll tell you ...
… because it’s easier to measure student performance than it is to measure instructional practices. It’s easier to measure the outcome than it is to measure the process.
In order to measure instructional practices we have to shift our mindset from gathering quantitative data to gathering qualitative data -- and the legislative decisions that drive much of what we do don’t want something that is subjective like qualitative data.
We all know that keeping our eye on student growth is important, and that we will always need to report out student performance, but ONLY focusing on this, and not measuring the effectiveness of instructional practices on a daily basis, is a huge mistake.
It’s a mistake because it causes us to focus on things we feel we have no control over, and our conversations start sounding like,
Johnny’s parents are separated right now, and he’s not handling it well so he
didn’t do very good on his test.
The teacher is focused on Johnny’s troubles instead of taking responsibility for Johnny and his learning regardless of the situation. If she were focused on how she can meet Johnny’s needs, and her responsibility in the process, the conversation might sound like this,
Johnny’s going through a rough time at home right now. I can tell it’s affecting
him here at school. What do you think I could do differently to support his
emotional state before, during and after this test he needs to take?
Or, when focusing on the wrong things, you might hear,
Lucy was home-schooled and when she enrolled in second grade she was far
behind our curricular standards. Poor thing. When can we schedule further
academic testing to support her through an IEP?
Instead of,
When Lucy enrolled in my class I realized there were some gaps in her learning.
She’s going to need some additional support from our Reading teacher, and I’ve
chunked out some time to work with her on the skills and strategies she’s missing in Math. She still has a ways to go, but has made so much growth already!
When we take notice of the teacher-moves in the classroom then we begin to focus on what we’re doing in response to student needs, and believe it or not, teachers love it. When our conversations are based around instructional practices, rather than just student performance, teachers begin to realize how much power they have in driving the outcomes in their classroom. When we solely focus on student performance, teachers feel helpless and victimized, as if the outcomes are a by-product of the circumstances the students bring to the classroom.
If you’re reading this and you knew me between the years 2006-2014 I’m guessing your jaw just dropped to the floor. Because during these years I was the school’s Data Rep. Each month I would go to monthly meetings to learn how to “read” our data. Then I would bring this information back to our team meetings and each meeting was based around our student outcome data. I had a positive relationship with the teachers in these team meetings and I often would remind them that there is a story behind these numbers, but even then there were teachers who would leave the meeting crying. Why? Because they felt helpless and undervalued. We were focusing on the performance of someone other than themselves.
It wasn’t until 2015 when I traveled to Colorado for my grandfather’s 90th birthday when I learned I was approaching things all wrong. While there I snuck away to attend a Marzano High Reliability Schools Institute, and an Educational Service Unit presented on teacher goal setting and self assessment of progress made in implementing those goals. The goals were all action based, and teachers would rate themselves on a scale of This Is New to Me, Getting Better, or Part of Practice. When I brought this idea back to my teachers, they loved it, and added Damn I’m Good to the scale as well. These conversations transformed our time together during our collaborations and set the stage for my new mindset of not always focusing on student outcomes.
I know everyone has heard the analogy about weight loss. Getting on the scale is measuring our progress, which that alone does apply some pressure on us to meet our weight loss goal, however, it’s the measured steps in between the weight check-ins that make all the difference. Writing down what you eat, counting your calorie intake, and visiting the gym 3 times a week for 60 minutes -- all of the things happening each and everyday, between your weekly weigh-in -- are measurable, even though the only thing we need to put on our driver’s license is the one number of our actual weight. That number tells a limited story. It only tells us if it’s too high or too low, and this holds true for our student performance outcomes as well. That number is important, but what’s more important are the actions and measurements along the way.
That’s why when I lead teacher collaborations they don’t always align with DuFour’s four critical questions:
What do students need to know and be able to do?
How will we know when they have learned it?
What will we do when they haven’t learned it?
What will we do when they already know it?
Yes, these are important questions. And yes, we need to take time to analyze these student outcomes. However, I feel more power is in frequently analyzing instructional practices. The critical questions may sound more like this:
What do I need to know and be able to do to impact student learning?
How will I know when I begin implementing this effectively in the classroom?
What will I do when obstacles get in the way?
What will I do when I’ve mastered the strategy and it becomes part of my daily practice?
Providing a space for teachers to talk about these questions with each other, support each other, set goals about implementing these instructional strategies, and then publicly reflecting on their progress is more meaningful for the teachers. Having student-outcome driven conversations is good. Having teacher-outcome driven conversations is better.
When our professional learning communities are only about student outcomes it is like we are sitting around a scale that we’ve weighed student performance on. The discussions are weak and it’s easy to start pointing fingers and finding reasons why the number isn’t what we want it to be.
However, when we frame the conversations around our personal actions in achieving our weight loss goals, such as, counting calories, visiting the gym 3 times a week, and eating a low-carb diet. The conversations will most likely sound similar to:
“I gave myself weekends off, which now I know won’t help me reach my goal.”
“I didn’t make it to the gym at all this week. I need to make more of an effort next week.”
“My family isn’t dieting with me so I’ve decided to prep my meals for the week every Sunday.”
Generalizing this into the education world and our teacher collaborations, the goals should stem from actions, such as, implementing effective discussion techniques, utilizing cooperative learning structures, and providing effective feedback. When the teachers set instructional goals, similar to the healthy-decision goals, rather than outcome goals, it’s easier to take ownership and understand what actions create a high-impact on student learning.
Still not sure how to put this into practice? During your PLC or collaboration take some time to identify high-yield instructional strategies. Based on these strategies, give the teachers time to reflect and set goals based on these teacher-moves. At subsequent collaborations the teachers then share their progress in reaching their goal, mistakes or obstacles along the way, and adjustments they are making to better reach the goal or change their goal.
When you’re talking only about student outcomes, you’ll be like me as a cold second grader, and face plant on the concrete. Every. Single. Time. But when the foundation of the conversation is grounded in instructional practices, you may face plant once, and then you’ll learn to take your hands out of your pockets the next time. Discussions of student outcomes should certainly be included in these conversations but they shouldn’t be at the core of it all.
Reach out to me, or comment below, if you'd like to learn more about how to set goals and measure instructional practices in the classroom.
You've got this! We're in this together.
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