First Person

Voices: What CITE 2.0 means for Dougco students

Douglas County School District board President John Carson says district staff and teachers have spent countless hours developing CITE 2.0, a new way to evaluate teachers based on performance.

The changes to teacher evaluations demanded by Colorado Senate Bill 10-191 have caused varying levels of discomfort for teachers in school districts across the state and that is understandable. In a very short amount of time, beginning in the 2013-2014 school year, all Colorado districts must evaluate teachers on how effective they are in the classroom. The law requires that 50 percent of teacher evaluation be based on student growth and achievement.

Dougco school board president John Carson discusses board policy changes at a September board meeting. (EdNews Colorado file photo)

Defining what that looks like and then implementing it systematically is a challenging process. In Douglas County we have taken this mandate very seriously because we know that the most important factor in our students’ success is the quality of the teachers in our classrooms.  We also know that well-intended legislation that is poorly implemented has a lasting, negative impact on our students and our schools.

Even before SB 10-191 the Douglas County School District was working to reinvent its own teacher evaluation instrument – CITE, which stands for Continuous Improvement of Teacher Effectiveness. CITE is the Douglas County School District evaluation tool that not only satisfies the requirements of SB 10-191 but exceeds those requirements.

In the Douglas County School District (DCSD) everything we do is centered on one single thing – what is best for our students. From budgeting to facilities to professional practices, it’s our goal to do everything we can to improve the educational experience for our students. The development of CITE is no different.

We know that excellence in teaching and leading must be our highest priority, as they have the most significant impact on the success of our students. To that end, in collaboration with our teachers and leaders, we developed CITE, an evaluation tool for teachers that measures what matters most for our students.

Three important things to note about CITE are:

• CITE is the result of extensive collaboration with teachers and leaders across the district;

• CITE goes above and beyond state requirements and is built on assessments that measure the most important outcomes we teach;

• CITE is one component of the DCSD system performance framework that provides students, parents, employees and the community with consistent information and reporting on how we are doing regarding the most important outcomes in our system.

CITE 2.0 is the result of hundreds and hundreds of hours of work and collaboration with DCSD teachers and administrators. Nearly four years ago, CITE started with a large teacher committee that provided feedback about the development of a new teacher evaluation instrument.

In the midst of our CITE development, Gov. John Hickenlooper signed SB 10-191. A major piece of that law requires school districts to evaluate teachers with a standard tool by the 2013-2014 school year – a very short timeline for development and implementation.  The law requires that 50 percent of teacher evaluation be based on student growth and achievement.  The law also gave birth to the Colorado Department of Education (CDE) rules committee which made many decisions about the implementation of SB 10-191, including producing the current teacher evaluation posted on the CDE website.

At the same time the state was developing a tool, DCSD was continuing to collaborate with teachers to develop CITE into an instrument that would align with our strategic plan, measure what matters most to our students and satisfy state requirements.

Some have asked the question, “Why develop a tool unique to DCSD rather than use the state instrument?” That is a great question, with a simple answer: the state evaluation did not meet the quality criteria we hold for assessments in our district, and therefore, we did not feel it was appropriate to ask our teachers or leaders to use it.  The final state instrument is 37 pages long and includes many ambiguous terms and redundancies. The DCSD CITE model is streamlined and clearly defines our expectations for our teachers – expectations grounded in the best practices for our students that are found in educational research and literature.

CITE is also an important component in the DCSD pay-for-performance system.  The system celebrates amazing educators and employees for their great work. Ultimately, teachers who are effective and highly effective will have opportunities for pay increases. Those who are not effective will receive feedback and training to improve their skills. Opportunities for professional development through coaching and training will, however, be available to all employees, ensuring that even those employees who are exemplary become examples for others in their field.

We know that there is a work yet to be done to fully complete the project in time to comply with the timeline established by SB 10-191.  While some have expressed trepidation that the system is not completely built, the feedback we are receiving from many teachers is that they are excited to be part of the development process. We are doing this the right way given the timeline we have under SB 10-191. We know that our efforts will make CITE a better, more intelligent teacher evaluation system that will benefit our students.

In DCSD, we are measuring the most important things teachers teach, and we are using a body of evidence that includes student work to measure teacher performance.

About the author

John Carson and his wife Eileen have three children and have lived in Highlands Ranch since 2002. John Carson is vice president and general counsel for Cherry Creek Mortgage Company in Greenwood Village. He formerly served as the Rocky Mountain regional director for the U.S. Development of Housing and Urban Development under President George W.Bush. Carson attended Green Mountain High School in Lakewood.

First Person

Why the phrase ‘with fidelity’ is an affront to good teaching

PHOTO: Alan Petersime

“With fidelity” are some of the most damaging words in education.

Districts spend a ton of money paying people to pick out massively expensive, packaged curriculums, as if every one of a thousand classrooms needs the exact same things. Then officials say, over and over again, that they must be implemented “with fidelity.” What they mean is that teachers better not do anything that would serve their students’ specific needs.

When that curriculum does nothing to increase student achievement, it is not blamed. The district person who found it and purchased it is never blamed. Nope. They say, “Well, the teachers must not have been implementing it with fidelity.”

It keeps happening because admitting that schools are messy and students are human and teaching is both creative and artistic would also mean you have to trust teachers and let them have some power. Also, there are some really crappy teachers out there, and programs for everyone are often meant to push that worst-case-scenario line a little higher.

And if everyone’s doing just what they’re supposed to, we’ll get such good, clean numbers, and isn’t that worth a few thousand more dollars?

I was talking with a friend recently, a teacher at an urban school on the East Coast. He had been called to task by his principal for splitting his kids into groups to offer differentiated math instruction based on students’ needs. “But,” the principal said, “did the pacing guide say to differentiate? You need to trust the system.”

I understand the desire to find out if a curriculum “works.” But I don’t trust anyone who can say “trust the system” without vomiting. Not when the system is so much worse than anything teachers would put together.

Last year, my old district implemented Reading Plus, an online reading program that forces students to read at a pace determined by their scores. The trainers promised, literally promised us, that there wasn’t a single reading selection anywhere in the program that could be considered offensive to anyone. God knows I never learned anything from a book that made me feel uncomfortable!

Oh, and students were supposed to use this program — forced-paced reading of benign material followed by multiple-choice questions and more forced-pace reading — for 90 minutes a week. We heard a lot about fidelity when the program did almost nothing for students (and, I believe quite strongly, did far worse than encouraging independent reading of high-interest books for 90 minutes a week would have done).

At the end of that year, I was handed copies of next year’s great adventure in fidelity. I’m not in that district any longer, but the whole district was all switching over to SpringBoard, another curriculum, in language arts classes. On came the emails about implementing with fidelity and getting everyone on the same page. We were promised flexibility, you know, so long as we also stuck to the pacing guide of the workbook.

I gave it a look, I did, because only idiots turn down potential tools. But man, it seemed custom-built to keep thinking — especially any creative, critical thought from either students or teachers — to a bare minimum.

I just got an email from two students from last year. They said hi, told me they missed creative writing class, and said they hated SpringBoard, the “evil twin of Reading Plus.”

That district ran out of money and had to cut teachers (including me) at the end of the year. But if they hadn’t, I don’t think I would have lasted long if forced to teach from a pacing guide. I’m a good teacher. Good teachers love to be challenged and supported. They take feedback well, but man do we hate mandates for stuff we know isn’t best for the kids in our room.

Because, from inside a classroom full of dynamic, chaotic brilliance;

from a classroom where that kid just shared that thing that broke all of our hearts;

from a classroom where that other kid figured out that idea they’ve been working on for weeks;

from that classroom where that other kid, who doesn’t know enough of the language, hides how hard he works to keep up and still misses things;

and from that classroom where one kid isn’t sure if they trust you yet, and that other kid trusts you too much, too easily, because their bar had been set too low after years of teachers that didn’t care enough;

from inside that classroom, it’s impossible to trust that anyone else has a better idea than I do about what my students need to do for our next 50 minutes.

Tom Rademacher is a teacher living in Minneapolis who was named Minnesota’s Teacher of the Year in 2014. His book, “It Won’t Be Easy: An Exceedingly Honest (and Slightly Unprofessional) Love Letter to Teaching,” was published in April. He can be found on Twitter @mrtomrad and writes on misterrad.tumblr.com, where this post first appeared.

First Person

What I learned about the limits of school choice in New York City from a mother whose child uses a wheelchair

PHOTO: Patrick Wall

As a researcher interested in the ways online platforms impact learning and educational decision-making, I’ve been trying to understand how New York City parents get the information to make a crucial decision: where to send their children to school.

So for the past six months, I’ve been asking local parents about the data they used to choose among the system’s 1700 or so schools.

I’ve heard all sorts of stories about the factors parents weigh when picking schools. Beyond the usual considerations like test scores and art programs, they also consider the logistics of commuting from the Bronx to the East Village with two children in tow, whether the school can accommodate parents and children who are still learning English, and how much money the parent-teacher association raises to supplement the school’s budget.

But for some families, the choice process begins and ends with the question: Is the building fully accessible?

The federal Americans with Disabilities Act requires public buildings constructed after 1992 to be fully accessible to people in wheelchairs. However, most New York City public school buildings were constructed prior to that law, and high construction costs have limited the number of new, fully accessible buildings.

As a result, a shocking 83 percent of New York City schools have been found non-compliant with the ADA, according to a two-year federal Department of Justice investigation whose findings the city Department of Education largely disputes. Recently, the city’s Office of Space Management has begun surveying buildings for full accessibility, but more work remains to be done.

One parent’s struggle to find a school suitable for her son, who has a physical disability but no cognitive issues, illustrates what a major role accessibility plays in some families’ decision-making.

Melanie Rivera is the mother of two and a native New Yorker living in Ditmas Park in Brooklyn’s District 22 who shared her story with me — and gave me permission to share it with others. Here is what she told me, in her own words:

My son Gabriel is seven years old. He was born with a condition called arthrogryposis, which affects the development of his joints. His hips, knees, and feet are affected and he has joint contractures, so his legs don’t bend and straighten the way most people’s do. In order to get around, he uses a combination of crutches and a wheelchair.

Before I had my differently-abled son, I was working in a preschool for children with special needs. The kids I worked with had cognitive developmental disabilities.

Despite my professional experience, I was overwhelmed when it was my turn to help my child with different abilities navigate the public school system. I can only imagine the students falling by the wayside because their parents don’t have that background.

When I was completing my son’s kindergarten application, I couldn’t even consider the academics of the school. My main priority was to tour the schools and assess their level of accessibility.

There are only a couple of ADA-accessible schools in my district, and there was no way of indicating on my son’s kindergarten application that he needed one. When we got the admissions results, he was assigned to his zoned school – which is not accessible.

I entered lengthy and extensive mediation to get him into an ADA-accessible school. At that point, I knew I would just have to take what I could get. For families whose children have special needs, “school choice” can ring hollow.

The process of finding any accessible school was a challenge. The DOE website allows families to search for ADA-accessible schools. But the site describes most schools as “partially accessible,” leaving it up to parents to call each school and say, “What do you mean by this?”

When I called the schools and asked, “Are you a barrier-free school?” the staff in the office didn’t know what the term meant. They might reply, “Oh yeah, we have a ramp.” I’d have to press further: “But can you get to the office? Can you get to every floor in the building?” The response was often, “Oh, I don’t know.”

Even the office staff didn’t know. But for my son’s sake, I needed to know.

Gabriel deserves the full range of academic and social experiences. So every day I make sure he’s learning in the least-restrictive environment — from the classroom, to phys ed, to field trips.

I believe the Department of Education also wants to make schools accessible and to place students with different abilities in settings where they’ll flourish, but the current system is not equipped to follow through on those good intentions. While I see gradual changes, I still know that if I don’t find the best placement for my son the system definitely won’t.

At the school level, administrators should know the details of their own school’s accessibility. Teachers should learn to include children with different abilities in their classrooms. Such a commitment means recognizing the value of inclusivity — not viewing accessibility as something ADA says you must do.

Before I had Gabriel, I never thought about accessibility. I never looked at street cutouts or thought about how to enter a store with steps. We’re probably all guilty of perpetuating exclusion at one point or another.

Recognizing that will allow us to change the status quo. It will allow every individual with a physical disability to fully participate in the public school system.

Claire Fontaine is a researcher at Data & Society, a research institute in New York City focused on social, cultural, and ethical issues arising from technological development. Kinjal Dave is a research assistant at Data & Society. You can read more about their project, which seeks to better understand the ways in which diverse New York City parents draw on school performance data, online dashboards, and school review websites when researching schools for their children.