While I no longer subscribe to the Globe, I periodically check its online content, and this morning I read about a program intended to help poor families with the costs of post-secondary education. As described in Margaret Wente's column, the "federal government will contribute $500 for a Canada Learning Bond for any child born since Jan. 1, 2004, who lives in a low-income family. It adds another $100 every year, to a maximum of $2,000, and matches any extra family contributions by as much as 40 per cent.
Despite my antipathy toward the Harper Government, I have to give them credit for thus far not eliminating this anti-poverty measure in the name of fiscal restraint.
Showing posts with label margaret wente. Show all posts
Showing posts with label margaret wente. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Tim Hudak – The New Ontario Progressive Conservative Party Leader
Tim Hudak, 41 and a former Ontario cabinet minister, was recently elected the new leader of the Ontario Progressive Conservative Party. Endorsed by former Premier Mike Harris, in my mind the most evil and divisive political leader in Canada’s history, Hudak seems intent on regaining power for the party by resurrecting the same tactics that so divided so many Ontarians during Harris’s rule. Spouting catch phrases such as ‘middle class values,’ and suggesting that he would cut up public sector contracts because they are too rich, Hudak, who has never held a job outside of politics, seems to assume that there is still an appetite amongst the electorate for the politics of disenfranchisement and division, politics that play to the worst of human nature.
In the leadup to the convention, the general wisdom was that centrists such as Christine Elliot could never lead the party back to power, being too closely allied in many ways with the policies of the existing Liberal government under Dalton McGuinty. And therein lies the problem with politicians today - if the only reason to choose Hudak is to increase the chance of returning to power, doesn’t that bespeak a moral vacuum? I would argue, of course, that this bald grasping for power for power’s sake is endemic in our system today, not limited to the Conservative Party by any means.
Margaret Wente, with who I rarely agree, has an interesting column in today’s Globe and Mail that examines the politics and strategy of Mr. Hudak. I have taken the liberty of reprinting it below:
Only a political junkie could care about the fate of Ontario's Progressive Conservative Party - a bunch of old white guys so lost in the woods they make Stephen Harper's crowd look enlightened.
To bring you up to date, they just had a leadership race. Not one of the candidates addressed the economic tsunami that will define the province for years to come. Instead, the front-runner chose to fan the culture wars by lustily attacking Ontario's Human Rights Commission. The small-town base applauded. Anyone else might ask: Who cares about the culture wars when the economic heartland of Canada is being disembowelled?
The election of Tim Hudak as leader of the Official Opposition is a rare piece of good news for Ontario Premier Dalton McGuinty. Mr. Hudak has styled himself as the reincarnation of Mike Harris, a name that evokes fear and loathing among most of the province's voters. People remember Mr. Harris as a dose of Castor oil - necessary, but deeply unpleasant. It is not an experience they'd care to repeat.
Nonetheless, Mr. Hudak thinks that old-time medicine might go down well again. He stands for "hard-working Ontarians" and "middle-class families," while the McGuinty Liberals stand for "massive tax grab."
By narrowing their base, the Conservatives took exactly the wrong message from their previous leader's failure to make an impact. John Tory was a Red Tory with bad timing. He opposed a moderate premier in good times. Mr. McGuinty projects an image as a dull but honest guy, and his government has generally avoided major screw-ups. The economy was booming, and voters saw no reason to rock the boat. Mr. Tory's political failure was widely blamed on his nice-guyness, along with his unpopular support for private-school funding. But it was prosperity that did him in.
Mr. Tory has little love for his successor, who campaigned for his job the entire time he had it. Mr. Hudak, 41, is nothing if not ambitious. He's been a career politician since he was first elected at 27 - not necessarily a plus, in my view. At least Mr. Harris spent some time as a golf pro.
In public, Mr. Hudak is a bit robotic - bright, glib and highly scripted by his band of Harrisites. His wife, Deb Hutton, was chief of staff in the Harris government. He is not unpersonable, but he's not personable, either. He has a habit of baring his teeth in an alarmingly phony smile, as if he's about to devour Little Red Riding Hood. Whether he's capable of substance is not known.
I'm not a fan of Mr. McGuinty's wishy-washy nanny-statish liberalism. But he is geekily enthusiastic about ideas, even though a lot of them are half-baked. He thinks seriously about forging a prosperous postindustrial model for Ontario. He surely knows that, before the next election in 2011, the province will be grappling with an unemployment rate of at least 10 per cent and even more horrendous deficits than it has now. He'll have to raise taxes and cut spending. So will anyone else who winds up in the job.
The reason to bother with Mr. Hudak is that he may well be premier one day - if not next time, then the time after that. All governments get long in the tooth, and this one is well into its second term. It is also sailing into a perfect storm not of its own making. If people get mad enough, they'll vote for Donald Duck.
That alone may be enough to get Mr. Hudak elected. But if he's halfway smart, he'll realize that the 5,600 diehards who elected him as leader are the party's past. They are the province's past, too. Ontario's future won't be forged in the aging, fading, small white towns like the one he grew up in. It will be forged in the vibrant knowledge belt of Southern Ontario, and in multiethnic, creative, culturally liberal Toronto. My advice to Mr. Hudak is to work the next Pride parade. It might broaden his horizons. It might even loosen him up.
In the leadup to the convention, the general wisdom was that centrists such as Christine Elliot could never lead the party back to power, being too closely allied in many ways with the policies of the existing Liberal government under Dalton McGuinty. And therein lies the problem with politicians today - if the only reason to choose Hudak is to increase the chance of returning to power, doesn’t that bespeak a moral vacuum? I would argue, of course, that this bald grasping for power for power’s sake is endemic in our system today, not limited to the Conservative Party by any means.
Margaret Wente, with who I rarely agree, has an interesting column in today’s Globe and Mail that examines the politics and strategy of Mr. Hudak. I have taken the liberty of reprinting it below:
Only a political junkie could care about the fate of Ontario's Progressive Conservative Party - a bunch of old white guys so lost in the woods they make Stephen Harper's crowd look enlightened.
To bring you up to date, they just had a leadership race. Not one of the candidates addressed the economic tsunami that will define the province for years to come. Instead, the front-runner chose to fan the culture wars by lustily attacking Ontario's Human Rights Commission. The small-town base applauded. Anyone else might ask: Who cares about the culture wars when the economic heartland of Canada is being disembowelled?
The election of Tim Hudak as leader of the Official Opposition is a rare piece of good news for Ontario Premier Dalton McGuinty. Mr. Hudak has styled himself as the reincarnation of Mike Harris, a name that evokes fear and loathing among most of the province's voters. People remember Mr. Harris as a dose of Castor oil - necessary, but deeply unpleasant. It is not an experience they'd care to repeat.
Nonetheless, Mr. Hudak thinks that old-time medicine might go down well again. He stands for "hard-working Ontarians" and "middle-class families," while the McGuinty Liberals stand for "massive tax grab."
By narrowing their base, the Conservatives took exactly the wrong message from their previous leader's failure to make an impact. John Tory was a Red Tory with bad timing. He opposed a moderate premier in good times. Mr. McGuinty projects an image as a dull but honest guy, and his government has generally avoided major screw-ups. The economy was booming, and voters saw no reason to rock the boat. Mr. Tory's political failure was widely blamed on his nice-guyness, along with his unpopular support for private-school funding. But it was prosperity that did him in.
Mr. Tory has little love for his successor, who campaigned for his job the entire time he had it. Mr. Hudak, 41, is nothing if not ambitious. He's been a career politician since he was first elected at 27 - not necessarily a plus, in my view. At least Mr. Harris spent some time as a golf pro.
In public, Mr. Hudak is a bit robotic - bright, glib and highly scripted by his band of Harrisites. His wife, Deb Hutton, was chief of staff in the Harris government. He is not unpersonable, but he's not personable, either. He has a habit of baring his teeth in an alarmingly phony smile, as if he's about to devour Little Red Riding Hood. Whether he's capable of substance is not known.
I'm not a fan of Mr. McGuinty's wishy-washy nanny-statish liberalism. But he is geekily enthusiastic about ideas, even though a lot of them are half-baked. He thinks seriously about forging a prosperous postindustrial model for Ontario. He surely knows that, before the next election in 2011, the province will be grappling with an unemployment rate of at least 10 per cent and even more horrendous deficits than it has now. He'll have to raise taxes and cut spending. So will anyone else who winds up in the job.
The reason to bother with Mr. Hudak is that he may well be premier one day - if not next time, then the time after that. All governments get long in the tooth, and this one is well into its second term. It is also sailing into a perfect storm not of its own making. If people get mad enough, they'll vote for Donald Duck.
That alone may be enough to get Mr. Hudak elected. But if he's halfway smart, he'll realize that the 5,600 diehards who elected him as leader are the party's past. They are the province's past, too. Ontario's future won't be forged in the aging, fading, small white towns like the one he grew up in. It will be forged in the vibrant knowledge belt of Southern Ontario, and in multiethnic, creative, culturally liberal Toronto. My advice to Mr. Hudak is to work the next Pride parade. It might broaden his horizons. It might even loosen him up.
Monday, September 8, 2008
My Letter to Margaret Wente
Since I enjoyed Margaret Wente's last two columns on education so much, my wife suggested I write her a letter. The following is what I sent her:
Dear Ms Wente:
Although I have rarely agreed with your perspectives over the years, as a retired high school teacher I very much appreciate the truths you’ve addressed in your last two columns on education. As well, I respect the fact that you chose not to ‘crank out’ a couple of quick pieces by blaming the usual suspects, teachers themselves.
The theme of your column today reminded me of something that happened around 1990. Although a veteran secondary English teacher by that point, I was relatively new to the school, located in an affluent community. During an early departmental meeting our head reminded everyone to make sure that we evaluated our students’ reading ability within two weeks of the semester. I then asked her, “What do we do with this information, Joanne?” She replied, with a laugh, “I knew you were going to ask that question, Lorne.” That comment was the end of the discussion of the issue.
Over the years I had often wondered about that ‘answer,’ and the conclusion I ultimately drew was that the directive toward early semester reading assessment was my department head’s subtle way of conveying the idea of making ‘accommodations’ without actually saying so. Having retired in 2006, I can assure you that there is no longer any such subtlety or ambiguity in school policy.
What deeply troubles me now is that the combination of political, parental and administrative pressure leaves new teachers little opportunity to develop their professional integrity. The problem is compounded by the fact that those teachers with knowledge and experience of the past who could provide some context for younger colleagues are rapidly disappearing through retirement. As well, I am sorry to say, although I am a supporter of unions and federations, the Ontario Secondary School Teachers Federation has, in my view, become simply another political entity. The system now demands unquestioning acceptance of political and administrative fiat, and that is exactly what it will get. Unfortunately, such a result, while politically expedient, is anathema to real education.
One other aspect that you might want to explore is the role that ‘careerism’ plays in public education’s malaise. In the last portion of my career, it was rare to encounter either a principal or a superintendent who didn’t put his or her own career ambitions above the well-being of education. To question in any meaningful way the educational orthodoxy generated either by the local director or the Ministry of Education is, as they say, a career-limiting move. Yet is the latter too cruel a fate to endure, given the broader good that is at stake?
Once again, congratulations on your thoughtful education columns. I am still in fairly regular contact with several of my younger former colleagues, and will be emailing them to recommend the pieces.
Dear Ms Wente:
Although I have rarely agreed with your perspectives over the years, as a retired high school teacher I very much appreciate the truths you’ve addressed in your last two columns on education. As well, I respect the fact that you chose not to ‘crank out’ a couple of quick pieces by blaming the usual suspects, teachers themselves.
The theme of your column today reminded me of something that happened around 1990. Although a veteran secondary English teacher by that point, I was relatively new to the school, located in an affluent community. During an early departmental meeting our head reminded everyone to make sure that we evaluated our students’ reading ability within two weeks of the semester. I then asked her, “What do we do with this information, Joanne?” She replied, with a laugh, “I knew you were going to ask that question, Lorne.” That comment was the end of the discussion of the issue.
Over the years I had often wondered about that ‘answer,’ and the conclusion I ultimately drew was that the directive toward early semester reading assessment was my department head’s subtle way of conveying the idea of making ‘accommodations’ without actually saying so. Having retired in 2006, I can assure you that there is no longer any such subtlety or ambiguity in school policy.
What deeply troubles me now is that the combination of political, parental and administrative pressure leaves new teachers little opportunity to develop their professional integrity. The problem is compounded by the fact that those teachers with knowledge and experience of the past who could provide some context for younger colleagues are rapidly disappearing through retirement. As well, I am sorry to say, although I am a supporter of unions and federations, the Ontario Secondary School Teachers Federation has, in my view, become simply another political entity. The system now demands unquestioning acceptance of political and administrative fiat, and that is exactly what it will get. Unfortunately, such a result, while politically expedient, is anathema to real education.
One other aspect that you might want to explore is the role that ‘careerism’ plays in public education’s malaise. In the last portion of my career, it was rare to encounter either a principal or a superintendent who didn’t put his or her own career ambitions above the well-being of education. To question in any meaningful way the educational orthodoxy generated either by the local director or the Ministry of Education is, as they say, a career-limiting move. Yet is the latter too cruel a fate to endure, given the broader good that is at stake?
Once again, congratulations on your thoughtful education columns. I am still in fairly regular contact with several of my younger former colleagues, and will be emailing them to recommend the pieces.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
A Hit, A Very Palpable Hit
Apologies for the arcane, perhaps even pretentious title of this post, but being a retired English teacher, I couldn’t resist the opportunity to use a line from my favorite Shakespearean play, Hamlet. While the Bard’s work has nothing directly to do with today’s topic, it does relate to its subject: education.
I mentioned earlier that I have seldom agreed with Globe columnist Margaret Wente’s perspective, but her column today, just as her earlier one, speaks real truth in its exploration of causes of public education dysfunction. While obviously not the final truth, it is well worth considering, and I suspect few experienced teachers (other, perhaps, than those currying administrative favour) will disagree with her observations.
EDCATIONAL ROMANTICISM
For whom the bell curve tolls
Students vary widely in academic ability, but we pretend everyone can be above average
MARGARET WENTE
September 6, 2008
Whenever I write about higher education, I get letters like this: "A large percentage of our students come into college woefully unprepared. Close to half of our first-year students in business are unable to maintain a 2.0 average in their first year, the standard required for advancement and graduation. ... A large percentage have poor note-taking skills, below-average reading comprehension skills, and an inability to solve problems and complete projects without being given step-by-step to-do lists."
The letter comes from a teacher at a local community college, where the first-year attrition rate - to say nothing of the costs in money, time and student self-esteem - is depressingly high. We all think we know what's wrong. It's the public education system. They're handing out high-school diplomas to just about anyone who bothers to show up.
But the education system (for all its shortcomings) doesn't really deserve to take the fall. The real problem is the cult of educational romanticism, which holds that students' abilities are far more equal and far more malleable than they really are. Educational romanticism has led us to believe that every student can become at least average, and that the right teaching strategies can close the achievement gap.
Not so, says Charles Murray, author of a provocative new book called Real Education. You may also know him as the much-loathed co-author of The Bell Curve, and stop reading right here. But hang on, because the central truth asserted by this book is one that is self-evident to every teacher (and every student) I have ever met: Ability varies, and it varies a lot.
Most teachers can tell within a week how their students rank in ability. (So can the students.) These rankings barely budge between 8 and 18. Neither do students' test scores, and neither does the spread between highest and lowest. In terms of academic ability, people stay pretty much where they started out, no matter how good the schooling they receive.
No one likes to talk about this fact, because it sounds both elitist and defeatist. So let's talk sports. A few of us are Mats Sundin, and a few of us are so clumsy that we walk into walls. The rest of us are widely distributed in between. Not all the practice in the world will get us into Junior A, because we simply are not Junior A material.
No matter how hard we try, argues Mr. Murray, "some people are just not smart enough to succeed on a conventional academic track." What this means is, we are asking schools to do the impossible. In the real world, even the best schools will always have students who perform below grade level. The ambitious goals we've set for raising academic achievement across the board are unattainable - unless we water down the tests. And the only way to reach a high-school graduation rate of 85 per cent (that's Ontario's ambitious target) is to grant diplomas to kids whose reading and writing skills are barely more than rudimentary.
So don't blame the schools for watering down their diplomas. The system made them do it. That's why a BA is now the entry-level credential for so many jobs, and why a postgraduate degree has become the new BA. It's a sorting mechanism for employers - a crude certificate of cognitive ability.
Educational romanticism does the most damage to kids who are the least able. For students with low levels of ability, toughening the standards (by, say, forcing "applied" students to take more demanding math, as Ontario recently tried to do) doesn't raise their ability. It just dooms them to certain failure. By forcing them to try work they can't do, we've condemned these kids to 12 years of frustration, misery and humiliation. And by forcing them to share classes with kids of much higher ability, we simply reinforce their sense of failure.
"Educational romanticism pursues unattainable egalitarian ideals of education achievement at the expense of attainable egalitarian ideals of personal dignity," Mr. Murray writes. How do we get out of this? Restructure the curriculum for vocational students in a way that prepares them for the world of work and channels their abilities toward work they can succeed at.
Educational romanticism has also led us to believe that a BA is a ticket to success - and that many, maybe most, kids should be capable of getting one. Both beliefs are wrong. The job market is exploding for skilled technicians of all kinds, in health care, entertainment, hospitality, and so on. Good community colleges and trade schools - not more second-rate universities - is where we should be investing. Good electricians are harder to find than good lawyers, and not badly paid. But middle-class kids and their parents have been brainwashed into thinking that, without a BA, they're doomed. Even guidance counsellors now see their role as encouraging everyone to go on to higher education. Too many of them don't talk straight with their students about their futures - and if they do, the parents protest.
There's more than one reason why so many kids arrive at business college or university so woefully unprepared. Maybe their high schools really did do a lousy job. But maybe their abilities are marginal. Maybe, no matter how hard they try, they can't do the work.
If you read The Globe and Mail, I guarantee that you are comfortably on the right side of the bell curve. (Don't be flattered. You did nothing to earn it.) You take your reading and calculating skills for granted. All your closest friends are more or less like you, and you probably have no idea what it means to be of average or below-average ability. Real Education might convince you that educational romanticism is the worst thing that ever happened to struggling kids. We don't live in Lake Wobegon after all. And the truth is, we never did.
I mentioned earlier that I have seldom agreed with Globe columnist Margaret Wente’s perspective, but her column today, just as her earlier one, speaks real truth in its exploration of causes of public education dysfunction. While obviously not the final truth, it is well worth considering, and I suspect few experienced teachers (other, perhaps, than those currying administrative favour) will disagree with her observations.
EDCATIONAL ROMANTICISM
For whom the bell curve tolls
Students vary widely in academic ability, but we pretend everyone can be above average
MARGARET WENTE
September 6, 2008
Whenever I write about higher education, I get letters like this: "A large percentage of our students come into college woefully unprepared. Close to half of our first-year students in business are unable to maintain a 2.0 average in their first year, the standard required for advancement and graduation. ... A large percentage have poor note-taking skills, below-average reading comprehension skills, and an inability to solve problems and complete projects without being given step-by-step to-do lists."
The letter comes from a teacher at a local community college, where the first-year attrition rate - to say nothing of the costs in money, time and student self-esteem - is depressingly high. We all think we know what's wrong. It's the public education system. They're handing out high-school diplomas to just about anyone who bothers to show up.
But the education system (for all its shortcomings) doesn't really deserve to take the fall. The real problem is the cult of educational romanticism, which holds that students' abilities are far more equal and far more malleable than they really are. Educational romanticism has led us to believe that every student can become at least average, and that the right teaching strategies can close the achievement gap.
Not so, says Charles Murray, author of a provocative new book called Real Education. You may also know him as the much-loathed co-author of The Bell Curve, and stop reading right here. But hang on, because the central truth asserted by this book is one that is self-evident to every teacher (and every student) I have ever met: Ability varies, and it varies a lot.
Most teachers can tell within a week how their students rank in ability. (So can the students.) These rankings barely budge between 8 and 18. Neither do students' test scores, and neither does the spread between highest and lowest. In terms of academic ability, people stay pretty much where they started out, no matter how good the schooling they receive.
No one likes to talk about this fact, because it sounds both elitist and defeatist. So let's talk sports. A few of us are Mats Sundin, and a few of us are so clumsy that we walk into walls. The rest of us are widely distributed in between. Not all the practice in the world will get us into Junior A, because we simply are not Junior A material.
No matter how hard we try, argues Mr. Murray, "some people are just not smart enough to succeed on a conventional academic track." What this means is, we are asking schools to do the impossible. In the real world, even the best schools will always have students who perform below grade level. The ambitious goals we've set for raising academic achievement across the board are unattainable - unless we water down the tests. And the only way to reach a high-school graduation rate of 85 per cent (that's Ontario's ambitious target) is to grant diplomas to kids whose reading and writing skills are barely more than rudimentary.
So don't blame the schools for watering down their diplomas. The system made them do it. That's why a BA is now the entry-level credential for so many jobs, and why a postgraduate degree has become the new BA. It's a sorting mechanism for employers - a crude certificate of cognitive ability.
Educational romanticism does the most damage to kids who are the least able. For students with low levels of ability, toughening the standards (by, say, forcing "applied" students to take more demanding math, as Ontario recently tried to do) doesn't raise their ability. It just dooms them to certain failure. By forcing them to try work they can't do, we've condemned these kids to 12 years of frustration, misery and humiliation. And by forcing them to share classes with kids of much higher ability, we simply reinforce their sense of failure.
"Educational romanticism pursues unattainable egalitarian ideals of education achievement at the expense of attainable egalitarian ideals of personal dignity," Mr. Murray writes. How do we get out of this? Restructure the curriculum for vocational students in a way that prepares them for the world of work and channels their abilities toward work they can succeed at.
Educational romanticism has also led us to believe that a BA is a ticket to success - and that many, maybe most, kids should be capable of getting one. Both beliefs are wrong. The job market is exploding for skilled technicians of all kinds, in health care, entertainment, hospitality, and so on. Good community colleges and trade schools - not more second-rate universities - is where we should be investing. Good electricians are harder to find than good lawyers, and not badly paid. But middle-class kids and their parents have been brainwashed into thinking that, without a BA, they're doomed. Even guidance counsellors now see their role as encouraging everyone to go on to higher education. Too many of them don't talk straight with their students about their futures - and if they do, the parents protest.
There's more than one reason why so many kids arrive at business college or university so woefully unprepared. Maybe their high schools really did do a lousy job. But maybe their abilities are marginal. Maybe, no matter how hard they try, they can't do the work.
If you read The Globe and Mail, I guarantee that you are comfortably on the right side of the bell curve. (Don't be flattered. You did nothing to earn it.) You take your reading and calculating skills for granted. All your closest friends are more or less like you, and you probably have no idea what it means to be of average or below-average ability. Real Education might convince you that educational romanticism is the worst thing that ever happened to struggling kids. We don't live in Lake Wobegon after all. And the truth is, we never did.
Monday, September 1, 2008
Margaret Wente on Education
Although I rarely find myself in agreement with her views, Margaret Wente recently wrote a column on the impact of political interference on education with which I found myself in complete accord. The only thing she didn’t address is the effect such interference has on the integrity and goodwill of committed teachers everywhere.
High-school daze: In Ontario, failure is not an option
MARGARET WENTE
From Saturday's Globe and Mail
August 30, 2008 at 1:10 AM EDT
When I was a kid, everybody knew the rules and the penalties for breaking them. When the teacher walked into class, you stood up. If you arrived late, you got a late slip. If you were late a few times, you got a detention. If you handed in an assignment late without a good excuse, you were marked down, and if you were caught plagiarizing, you got a zero.
The teachers were expected to be fair but strict. I had one who used to prowl the classroom and whack our desks with a yardstick if we were daydreaming. "If you don't shape up [whack], you'll wind up selling ribbons at Kresge's," she'd warn.
Kresge's is long gone, and so is that teaching style. I'm not saying that's a bad thing. The world is now a more complicated place. The student body is far more diverse, and the education stakes are higher. Today, school boards and governments have decreed that schools must do everything in their power to help every kid succeed - even if they have to redefine "success" to do it.
In Ontario's secondary schools, teachers are told not to penalize students for late work. The Ottawa public school board has decreed that students who plagiarize will be allowed to do the assignment again. In some schools, students are allowed to stroll into class whenever they want. And a provincially mandated system of "credit recovery" means it's so easy for them to make up failed courses that they don't have to do much more than show up.
"Credit recovery" was devised as a strategy to help "at-risk students" (as they are now known) to stay in school. As one expert explained it, "Too many students are short credits and lose interest and hope." Instead of having to repeat the whole course, students are now allowed to make up only the parts they've failed. They can do this in different ways, including something called "experiential learning." The usual way is to attend a credit recovery class once a day for a few weeks. He doesn't have to pass a test. All he has to do is persuade his credit recovery supervisor (not the teacher who failed him) to give him a 51.
"There's a lot more leniency and a lot less work in credit recovery," says a teacher at one middle-of-the-pack Toronto school. "Kids know that, if they fail, they can do the class again in six weeks." Credit recovery is also a convenient way for some teachers to shuffle the losers out of their hair. "It has turned into a huge program here," says the teacher, who, like most, won't speak on the record for fear of professional consequences. "As long as you show up, you're not gonna fail."
The "success" rate of students in credit recovery is amazingly high, a fact that may or may not be related to the relentless pressure on the schools to boost their graduation rates. But teachers worry that credit recovery has watered down the meaning of a diploma.
"A credit for Johnny is not a credit for Janey," says Neil Orford, a history teacher and department chair at Centre Dufferin District High School in Shelburne. "The integrity of the credit is in trouble across the province."
Ontario Premier Dalton McGuinty has declared himself the education premier. He's investing hundreds of millions more in the system. He's raising the high-school exit age to 18 and plans to introduce all-day kindergarten. He has also pledged to raise the high-school graduation rate to 85 per cent by 2010-11. (It's 75 per cent now.) To meet this target, large numbers of "at risk" students will need to be salvaged and given every chance at success.
One controversial part of this strategy is to stop penalizing students for late work. The reasoning goes that lateness is a behavioural issue, not a pedagogical one, and that students should have as much time as they need to do the work to the best of their ability.
Not surprisingly, teachers regard this policy as idiotic. It's something only an educational romantic could dream up, because it doesn't work in real life.
"The late issue is a real hotbed," says Mr. Orford. "We're really struggling with the ethical dimension of it."
The ethical dimension is obvious. Some kids can get away with murder, and all the other kids know it. The teachers have been pushing back, and the result is that every school (and often every teacher) has different practices. After much struggle with the authorities, some teachers at Mr. Orford's school have adopted a work-around known as "windows of opportunity," which means that students are given one provisional deadline and one real one.
At other schools, chaos prevails. "At the end of the semester, I have kids who say, 'What have I missed, what do I need to do to pass?' " says the teacher who asked not to be identified. She is younger and less experienced than Mr. Orford. "It drives teachers crazy. But a lot of them say, 'Oh, just do what the policy says.' "
Talking to teachers, you get the overwhelming sense that many of them are on their own, caught in a Kafkaesque world of bizarre policies imposed from on high that they can't do much about. "There are no tardiness policies at our school," says the younger teacher. "Kids are late to class more often than not, but you can't do anything about it, and they know it. I've tried giving them a quiz at the beginning of the class, but then parents say you have to give them a chance to make it up. You can't deduct marks. You can ask them to stay for a detention, but they don't come. I'm always asking teachers, 'What do you do?' But there's nothing."
Thankfully, most teachers still like their jobs. "I love what I do," says Mr. Orford, who adds that only a minority of students abuse the system. The younger teacher says, "The good kids make it all worthwhile." But both of them worry about what lessons their students — including the good ones — are learning about fairness and respect, responsibility and self-discipline.
Coincidentally, these qualities — fairness, respect, responsibility, self-discipline — are the very ones that Mr. McGuinty has promised to instill in every child across the province, in another of his big initiatives known as "character education." Which raises the tantalizing question: Why not make a start by rolling back the late policy?
"The teachers are desperately looking for moral leadership on this," says Mr. Orford, "and, in many cases, they can't find it."
High-school daze: In Ontario, failure is not an option
MARGARET WENTE
From Saturday's Globe and Mail
August 30, 2008 at 1:10 AM EDT
When I was a kid, everybody knew the rules and the penalties for breaking them. When the teacher walked into class, you stood up. If you arrived late, you got a late slip. If you were late a few times, you got a detention. If you handed in an assignment late without a good excuse, you were marked down, and if you were caught plagiarizing, you got a zero.
The teachers were expected to be fair but strict. I had one who used to prowl the classroom and whack our desks with a yardstick if we were daydreaming. "If you don't shape up [whack], you'll wind up selling ribbons at Kresge's," she'd warn.
Kresge's is long gone, and so is that teaching style. I'm not saying that's a bad thing. The world is now a more complicated place. The student body is far more diverse, and the education stakes are higher. Today, school boards and governments have decreed that schools must do everything in their power to help every kid succeed - even if they have to redefine "success" to do it.
In Ontario's secondary schools, teachers are told not to penalize students for late work. The Ottawa public school board has decreed that students who plagiarize will be allowed to do the assignment again. In some schools, students are allowed to stroll into class whenever they want. And a provincially mandated system of "credit recovery" means it's so easy for them to make up failed courses that they don't have to do much more than show up.
"Credit recovery" was devised as a strategy to help "at-risk students" (as they are now known) to stay in school. As one expert explained it, "Too many students are short credits and lose interest and hope." Instead of having to repeat the whole course, students are now allowed to make up only the parts they've failed. They can do this in different ways, including something called "experiential learning." The usual way is to attend a credit recovery class once a day for a few weeks. He doesn't have to pass a test. All he has to do is persuade his credit recovery supervisor (not the teacher who failed him) to give him a 51.
"There's a lot more leniency and a lot less work in credit recovery," says a teacher at one middle-of-the-pack Toronto school. "Kids know that, if they fail, they can do the class again in six weeks." Credit recovery is also a convenient way for some teachers to shuffle the losers out of their hair. "It has turned into a huge program here," says the teacher, who, like most, won't speak on the record for fear of professional consequences. "As long as you show up, you're not gonna fail."
The "success" rate of students in credit recovery is amazingly high, a fact that may or may not be related to the relentless pressure on the schools to boost their graduation rates. But teachers worry that credit recovery has watered down the meaning of a diploma.
"A credit for Johnny is not a credit for Janey," says Neil Orford, a history teacher and department chair at Centre Dufferin District High School in Shelburne. "The integrity of the credit is in trouble across the province."
Ontario Premier Dalton McGuinty has declared himself the education premier. He's investing hundreds of millions more in the system. He's raising the high-school exit age to 18 and plans to introduce all-day kindergarten. He has also pledged to raise the high-school graduation rate to 85 per cent by 2010-11. (It's 75 per cent now.) To meet this target, large numbers of "at risk" students will need to be salvaged and given every chance at success.
One controversial part of this strategy is to stop penalizing students for late work. The reasoning goes that lateness is a behavioural issue, not a pedagogical one, and that students should have as much time as they need to do the work to the best of their ability.
Not surprisingly, teachers regard this policy as idiotic. It's something only an educational romantic could dream up, because it doesn't work in real life.
"The late issue is a real hotbed," says Mr. Orford. "We're really struggling with the ethical dimension of it."
The ethical dimension is obvious. Some kids can get away with murder, and all the other kids know it. The teachers have been pushing back, and the result is that every school (and often every teacher) has different practices. After much struggle with the authorities, some teachers at Mr. Orford's school have adopted a work-around known as "windows of opportunity," which means that students are given one provisional deadline and one real one.
At other schools, chaos prevails. "At the end of the semester, I have kids who say, 'What have I missed, what do I need to do to pass?' " says the teacher who asked not to be identified. She is younger and less experienced than Mr. Orford. "It drives teachers crazy. But a lot of them say, 'Oh, just do what the policy says.' "
Talking to teachers, you get the overwhelming sense that many of them are on their own, caught in a Kafkaesque world of bizarre policies imposed from on high that they can't do much about. "There are no tardiness policies at our school," says the younger teacher. "Kids are late to class more often than not, but you can't do anything about it, and they know it. I've tried giving them a quiz at the beginning of the class, but then parents say you have to give them a chance to make it up. You can't deduct marks. You can ask them to stay for a detention, but they don't come. I'm always asking teachers, 'What do you do?' But there's nothing."
Thankfully, most teachers still like their jobs. "I love what I do," says Mr. Orford, who adds that only a minority of students abuse the system. The younger teacher says, "The good kids make it all worthwhile." But both of them worry about what lessons their students — including the good ones — are learning about fairness and respect, responsibility and self-discipline.
Coincidentally, these qualities — fairness, respect, responsibility, self-discipline — are the very ones that Mr. McGuinty has promised to instill in every child across the province, in another of his big initiatives known as "character education." Which raises the tantalizing question: Why not make a start by rolling back the late policy?
"The teachers are desperately looking for moral leadership on this," says Mr. Orford, "and, in many cases, they can't find it."
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