Wait: YOU are Evaluating ME?
Speaking of classroom visits (as I did last week)....
There is one recent change in my school district that troubles me: a new system of teacher evaluation. After looking over the 34-point rubric on which I will from here forward be judged, I am a little...perturbed. It is no secret that this new system of evaluation is the precursor to "performance pay," a method of paying good teachers even less in the name of holding all teachers accountable. But that isn't the part that bothers me. The thing about this new system that is most troubling to me is that decisions about my quality as a teacher are being made by people who can't do my job.
I have already been evaluated once this year using the new system. Before I discuss that, I should point out that I have no problem with classroom visitors. I have done this long enough that extra faces in the already crowded room don't bother me, and my policy on being observed is open-door. I have kids from the high school, college students, grad students, other teachers, and administrators walking in all the time, and it doesn't have much effect on what I do. In fact, I've even had film crews complete with lighting and sound technicians tracing my steps around the class while trying not to influence the reaction of the students. (Epic fail.) So, while I know that being observed can be a nerve-wracking experience for newer teachers, that isn't my concern. It doesn't rattle me. Not even when all three administrators come in unannounced, as they did at the end of a sweltering early-September day when my non-air-conditioned room was approaching 95 degrees. Because the class is full, there were not enough desks to accommodate this small squadron of observers, but we found space. They stayed for about 25 minutes, during which the students -- whose names I was still trying to learn -- were so amazingly cooperative and engaged, despite the heat and extra eyes, that I almost started to wonder if someone had told them to be on their best behavior. I met with one of those administrators afterwards, and he was very complimentary. Then I saw the new evaluation rubric for the first time, and my "scores" were quite good. So, why would I complain?
Here's why: Teachers were supposed to be trained in the new process before evaluations took place, which seems reasonable, even though I still think the "instrument" (that's what administrators call surveys and other data-gathering forms) is ridiculous. There is no way an observation of less than 30 minutes can measure teacher effectiveness in 34 areas. In my case, it's difficult to complain because things went well during my initial observation, but some of my colleagues received much less flattering scores. And while the non-teachers have been instructed to remind us constantly that "this is all formative" and there is no reason to worry, when someone hands you an evaluation with 34 items on which you are judged from 1 (not evident) to 4 (extraordinary) and you get mostly 1's, it hurts your feelings. Especially if they show up while you are administering a pretest (which requires very little active teaching) and you don't know how you're being judged. Let's just say it wasn't the teacher who failed in that case.
Now, about that training which did not take place when it was supposed to: At the end of the third week of school, we had a faculty meeting devoted to this. (Keep in mind, many teachers had already been evaluated using this new system...but, no worries, "it's all formative.") The same administrators who stopped by my hot classroom to judge my teaching were the ones doing the teaching this time. Fortunately, they handed out a blank copy of the rubric that many of us had already been measured against, so I was able to evaluate the effectiveness of their work. Technically, since there were three of them, and their presentation was divided into sections that each of them delivered separately, I could measure the effectiveness of each on three separate evaluation sheets, but that would be unnecessarily punitive.
Shortly after the requisite Power Point slides had been displayed and read aloud, chaos ensued. It may not have looked chaotic when compared to an unsupervised class of 8th graders, but there was no engagement of learners or forward momentum to what happened thereafter. It became quickly apparent that no lesson plan existed, and PLAN is the first standard on the evaluation form. There are six indicators to look for under this standard, and none of them were evident during the lesson. Especially lacking was indicator #6: "Lesson is well organized and proceeds in a logical sequence." (The fact that the lesson was being presented more than three weeks late would be enough to indicate either very poor planning...or outright defiance of district mandate.) When one presenter asked, "Okay, who is ready to move on?" Six of the 45 people in the room raised hands. He continued, as though six constituted a super-majority, "The rest of you can stay after as long as you want and I'll address your concerns individually." (Gee, I wonder how that would work with my students: "You're not getting it? Oh, well, just stay after class. Now excuse me while I plow through the rest of this material that no one understands!")
The second Standard on the evaluation form is TEACH. Of the 12 indicators in this category, the first is the only one that the lesson kind of addressed: "Learners know what they are supposed to be learning and why." That was covered in the Power Point slides, before the chaos. When it comes to "Engaging students through a variety of best practice instructional strategies," "Utilizing instructional time wisely and paces effectively," "Displaying enthusiasm and clear interest in the subject while ensuring students learn," and "Using instructional strategies to promote high levels of thinking," this one bombed. No evidence of any of that. At one point, one of our presenters was seen reclining behind a computer monitor, checking his cell phone, completely disengaged from what was going on in the classroom.
There are seven indicators under the standard called CHECK, meaning the teacher checks to see that students are, in fact, engaged and understanding the content. If not, reteaching should occur. If so, acceleration should occur. Students are to receive specific and immediate feedback. Good teachers do this stuff instinctively, but there was none of it in evidence at our faculty meeting. In fact, at one point, probably after he saw me circling 1's on the evaluation form he had given me, one presenter said, "We realize this lesson isn't meeting all the evaluation criteria on the form, but out of respect for your time...." Oh, I see. You respect my time? Is that why we skipped the opening faculty meeting, where this "lesson" was supposed to have been delivered and instead were assigned to watch a 99-frame Power Point full of pithy truisms like "It's not about what you teach. It's about what the students learn" on our own time? Respect for my time, eh? Uh-huh.
The final standard that is said to be observable in a classroom is ENVIRONMENT. A teacher is expected to foster a positive, safe, educational environment, complete with caring, high expectations, organized procedures, and effective behavior management. There are nine scored indicators in this section, and I suppose some of them were "somewhat evident" (2) or "evident" (3) during our lesson, but that was only because a sympathetic audience of teachers tolerated such a terrible example of instruction.
See, we get it. We know what teaching is like because we do it every day. We engage with the students as much as we do with the curriculum and certainly far more than we do with the ridiculous evaluation form. For the past two years, we have suffered weekly bulletins and administrative e-mails reminding us "It isn't about what you teach. It's about what the students learn." Physicians, heal thyselves! Do you think you hit your "learning target" in that faculty meeting? If so, I'd like to show you my evaluation of you. Don't worry, though. It's just formative. I'm sure that on the other three training modules for this new system you will improve. Why not make that one of your goals?
The folks most concerned with creating the illusion of legitimacy for this new evaluation system have been instructed to tell us that the program was developed with the input of teachers, and I even received an e-mail recently from a "curriculum supervisor" (i.e., not a teacher) who said, "I feel much better about it after using it with real teachers." Wow. It warms my heart to know how comfortable she is with something that will never be used to evaluate her. Speaking of which, I'd like to see the "instrument" that is used to evaluate curriculum supervisors, principals, and superintendents. I'm sure I could, with proper training, become as comfortable with it as they are with the 34-point rubric used to evaluate me and my fellow teachers. To my knowledge, no such instrument exists.
There is one recent change in my school district that troubles me: a new system of teacher evaluation. After looking over the 34-point rubric on which I will from here forward be judged, I am a little...perturbed. It is no secret that this new system of evaluation is the precursor to "performance pay," a method of paying good teachers even less in the name of holding all teachers accountable. But that isn't the part that bothers me. The thing about this new system that is most troubling to me is that decisions about my quality as a teacher are being made by people who can't do my job.
I have already been evaluated once this year using the new system. Before I discuss that, I should point out that I have no problem with classroom visitors. I have done this long enough that extra faces in the already crowded room don't bother me, and my policy on being observed is open-door. I have kids from the high school, college students, grad students, other teachers, and administrators walking in all the time, and it doesn't have much effect on what I do. In fact, I've even had film crews complete with lighting and sound technicians tracing my steps around the class while trying not to influence the reaction of the students. (Epic fail.) So, while I know that being observed can be a nerve-wracking experience for newer teachers, that isn't my concern. It doesn't rattle me. Not even when all three administrators come in unannounced, as they did at the end of a sweltering early-September day when my non-air-conditioned room was approaching 95 degrees. Because the class is full, there were not enough desks to accommodate this small squadron of observers, but we found space. They stayed for about 25 minutes, during which the students -- whose names I was still trying to learn -- were so amazingly cooperative and engaged, despite the heat and extra eyes, that I almost started to wonder if someone had told them to be on their best behavior. I met with one of those administrators afterwards, and he was very complimentary. Then I saw the new evaluation rubric for the first time, and my "scores" were quite good. So, why would I complain?
Here's why: Teachers were supposed to be trained in the new process before evaluations took place, which seems reasonable, even though I still think the "instrument" (that's what administrators call surveys and other data-gathering forms) is ridiculous. There is no way an observation of less than 30 minutes can measure teacher effectiveness in 34 areas. In my case, it's difficult to complain because things went well during my initial observation, but some of my colleagues received much less flattering scores. And while the non-teachers have been instructed to remind us constantly that "this is all formative" and there is no reason to worry, when someone hands you an evaluation with 34 items on which you are judged from 1 (not evident) to 4 (extraordinary) and you get mostly 1's, it hurts your feelings. Especially if they show up while you are administering a pretest (which requires very little active teaching) and you don't know how you're being judged. Let's just say it wasn't the teacher who failed in that case.
Now, about that training which did not take place when it was supposed to: At the end of the third week of school, we had a faculty meeting devoted to this. (Keep in mind, many teachers had already been evaluated using this new system...but, no worries, "it's all formative.") The same administrators who stopped by my hot classroom to judge my teaching were the ones doing the teaching this time. Fortunately, they handed out a blank copy of the rubric that many of us had already been measured against, so I was able to evaluate the effectiveness of their work. Technically, since there were three of them, and their presentation was divided into sections that each of them delivered separately, I could measure the effectiveness of each on three separate evaluation sheets, but that would be unnecessarily punitive.
Shortly after the requisite Power Point slides had been displayed and read aloud, chaos ensued. It may not have looked chaotic when compared to an unsupervised class of 8th graders, but there was no engagement of learners or forward momentum to what happened thereafter. It became quickly apparent that no lesson plan existed, and PLAN is the first standard on the evaluation form. There are six indicators to look for under this standard, and none of them were evident during the lesson. Especially lacking was indicator #6: "Lesson is well organized and proceeds in a logical sequence." (The fact that the lesson was being presented more than three weeks late would be enough to indicate either very poor planning...or outright defiance of district mandate.) When one presenter asked, "Okay, who is ready to move on?" Six of the 45 people in the room raised hands. He continued, as though six constituted a super-majority, "The rest of you can stay after as long as you want and I'll address your concerns individually." (Gee, I wonder how that would work with my students: "You're not getting it? Oh, well, just stay after class. Now excuse me while I plow through the rest of this material that no one understands!")
The second Standard on the evaluation form is TEACH. Of the 12 indicators in this category, the first is the only one that the lesson kind of addressed: "Learners know what they are supposed to be learning and why." That was covered in the Power Point slides, before the chaos. When it comes to "Engaging students through a variety of best practice instructional strategies," "Utilizing instructional time wisely and paces effectively," "Displaying enthusiasm and clear interest in the subject while ensuring students learn," and "Using instructional strategies to promote high levels of thinking," this one bombed. No evidence of any of that. At one point, one of our presenters was seen reclining behind a computer monitor, checking his cell phone, completely disengaged from what was going on in the classroom.
There are seven indicators under the standard called CHECK, meaning the teacher checks to see that students are, in fact, engaged and understanding the content. If not, reteaching should occur. If so, acceleration should occur. Students are to receive specific and immediate feedback. Good teachers do this stuff instinctively, but there was none of it in evidence at our faculty meeting. In fact, at one point, probably after he saw me circling 1's on the evaluation form he had given me, one presenter said, "We realize this lesson isn't meeting all the evaluation criteria on the form, but out of respect for your time...." Oh, I see. You respect my time? Is that why we skipped the opening faculty meeting, where this "lesson" was supposed to have been delivered and instead were assigned to watch a 99-frame Power Point full of pithy truisms like "It's not about what you teach. It's about what the students learn" on our own time? Respect for my time, eh? Uh-huh.
The final standard that is said to be observable in a classroom is ENVIRONMENT. A teacher is expected to foster a positive, safe, educational environment, complete with caring, high expectations, organized procedures, and effective behavior management. There are nine scored indicators in this section, and I suppose some of them were "somewhat evident" (2) or "evident" (3) during our lesson, but that was only because a sympathetic audience of teachers tolerated such a terrible example of instruction.
See, we get it. We know what teaching is like because we do it every day. We engage with the students as much as we do with the curriculum and certainly far more than we do with the ridiculous evaluation form. For the past two years, we have suffered weekly bulletins and administrative e-mails reminding us "It isn't about what you teach. It's about what the students learn." Physicians, heal thyselves! Do you think you hit your "learning target" in that faculty meeting? If so, I'd like to show you my evaluation of you. Don't worry, though. It's just formative. I'm sure that on the other three training modules for this new system you will improve. Why not make that one of your goals?
The folks most concerned with creating the illusion of legitimacy for this new evaluation system have been instructed to tell us that the program was developed with the input of teachers, and I even received an e-mail recently from a "curriculum supervisor" (i.e., not a teacher) who said, "I feel much better about it after using it with real teachers." Wow. It warms my heart to know how comfortable she is with something that will never be used to evaluate her. Speaking of which, I'd like to see the "instrument" that is used to evaluate curriculum supervisors, principals, and superintendents. I'm sure I could, with proper training, become as comfortable with it as they are with the 34-point rubric used to evaluate me and my fellow teachers. To my knowledge, no such instrument exists.
posted by MRT at 11:00 AM
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