Scott Waldman's informative and sensitive piece about a teacher referred to as "Jen" ("Developing" label disheartens teacher," Sept. 13) made me think about my career teaching educationally and socially disadvantaged teenagers. Jen was classified with the work-in-progress, "developing" label under the new data-driven teacher evaluation system incapable of inputting significant, positive contributions a teacher can make to the "whole" child. Teachers like Jen, who are willing to work with at-risk students, are thus evaluated with the odds stacked against them.
Lucky for me, I retired in 2010, before the insipid madness of the cookie-cutter approach to education began to filter into our schools. My 36-year career in education was dedicated to working exclusively with at-risk students in alternative programs. One alternative program, which I created for a suburban school and for which I also served as director, succeeded because stakeholders were concerned about the "whole" child and not merely a score on a state assessment.
Unfortunately, the worth of a teacher today in such programs is measured by an evaluation tool designed by data-obsessed bureaucrats far removed from the realities of the classroom.
In the future, what teacher will take the career risk to work with challenged students? Why would a teacher chance working with the academically reluctant when their evaluation depends primarily on the cold data of test scores and not the significant personal and social improvements made in students' lives? What teacher would chance having to list themselves as "developing" on a resume or a future job application?
I worked with many new teachers in the alternative program and often had to address the frustration and guilt a teacher felt on days when they "weren't able to get anything done in class." They told me of the day's crisis that eliminated the possibility of getting through a lesson plan. Maybe the story was that David got busted the night before, or that Nicole found out she was pregnant, or that Tina got slapped around again by her mom's boyfriend, or that Crystal found inappropriate photos of herself posted on the Internet by her ex-boyfriend, or that Jimmy ran away, or that Heather was in the bathroom crying because of her appointment later in the day at Planned Parenthood. There was always some personal crisis, some emotional intrusion that, on any given day, could make the goal of a lesson plan seem insignificant. I know many believe schools should be just for education, but these are still our children and these are the lives they are living when they walk into the classroom.
My message to these young teachers was always consistent and appreciative: "Don't worry. There will be many days when academics must be secondary."
Could I offer that same message today if I was still director of a high school alternative program? I don't think so. Nor could I teach in a classroom where the "fixing" that takes place is strictly about academics at the expense of the well-being of a troubled child. When the success of a teacher working with at-risk disadvantaged students is determined primarily by scores on state assessments, not only will our educational system remain broken, but so will our students.
As policy makers continue to play with numbers to fix the education system, little do they realize that broken children will soon no longer look to their classroom as a last remaining sanctuary for their troubled lives.
Stay strong, Jen. If the evaluation system in the education bureaucracy is incapable of recognizing your value in the classroom, in your heart, I'm sure you know, your students will always cherish your efforts.