School in the time of catastrophe

New CPS guidance for remote learning

Well what do you know, friends, today we’re actually talking about education.

CPS has released its guidelines for what it’s calling remote learning, and teachers and students are getting ready to start this project on April 13, after spring break. You can see the document, Remote Learning Guidance for Parents, here.

In talking about what our schools are attempting right now I think it’s best to filter the conversation through an opinion piece by two teachers that recently appeared in the Atlanta Journal-Constitution. They claim that what is happening for roughly 50 million public school students is not, as many people call it, homeschooling, it is not distance learning, and it is not online learning—as these are all pedagogies backed by theory, method, and practice. What is happening right now they call, simply, COVID-19 schooling. School in the time of catastrophe. And as confusing, complicated, and problematic as it is, they welcome this time as a period to radically reevaluate our schooling priorities. It’s a very thought provoking piece and you can access it here.

With that in mind, I have questions about this new guidance.

Who is this district and what have they done with the CPS we know? What is this surprisingly humane, compassionate counsel that is illuminating the schools’ paths forward? And why, when CPS could have doubled down on the rhetoric of rigor, greatness, and the relentless advance toward excellence, have they opted instead for realism, moderation, and compassion?

District administrators certainly never seemed to care or notice before that the city’s deep economic inequities must call all standardized test results into question, and hence their own school ratings policies and funding metrics. They never seemed to notice before that different households have different resources to support student learning. They never questioned the premise that “poor performance” by students or teachers was a reason to punish schools and staff. CPS has marched in lockstep for 20 years to the tune of the corporate education reformers who sought to improve schools by managing districts like “a business” or a stock portfolio fund, rewarding high performers, closing weak ones, and cutting out inefficiencies, even to the point of illegally defunding federally required special education services. CPS’s watchwords have been, for 20 years, choice, privatization, and data-driven decisions. These things have worked out to mean, respectively: children traveling up to three hours per day on public transit; lack of transparency into charter school funding and performance; and failing to pay attention to any data but dubiously generated results from dubious standardized tests. The long term impact on our children has been at least three-fold: a growing incidence of anxiety and depression as they fret over test results and performance, increased racial segregation and race-based resource inequities, and grief over school closures in neighborhoods that didn’t need any more grief.

But all of that—in a moment—has been forced to come to a screeching halt. I know it’s temporary. But it is a moment in which have emerged different priorities than I was expecting. And it gives me a little hope.

Before the new guidance was released we already had reason for hope. One of CPS’s first priorities immediately after closure was continuing to feed students in a district where up to 78% of students may be food insecure. The district reports that it has provided 2.8 million meals to families since schools closed March 17th. CPS will continue meal distribution through spring break at 150 consolidated neighborhood sites, and when break is over distribution will resume at 309 schools. Regarding school work, the district asked teachers to send work to students but, recognizing that it was impossible for all students to access resources, including the assignments themselves, said there would be no grading and nothing would count to lower a student’s grade.

The new policies go into place on April 13, and they continue the humane and realistic tone set by the initial response. The district is distributing 100,000 chromebooks, ipads, and other devices for students with no such equipment at home, and they are finding students who need them through their teachers. Internet connectivity is a further problem, and while CPS has no answers about that, they are pointing folks to Comcast and AT&T who are offering free internet service during the pandemic (pointless, of course, for those folks who have neither of those services presently).

Citywide internet access is dicey, so schools will be distributing printed versions of curricula for pick-up with meals. District remote learning guidance doesn’t require checking in every day and no attendance will be taken. Schools are encouraged to offer online and offline activities and classes will not be synchronous with the student’s previous schedule. Teachers will be available for consultation four hours per day.

The district has given minimum daily guidelines about how much time students should spend on their schoolwork, leaving wiggle room for teachers to give more work. These minimums are appropriate in my view: 60 minutes for preK (and let’s hope “work” here means “play”), 90 minutes for grades K-2; 120 minutes for 3-5; 180 minutes for 6-8; and 270 minutes for 9-12. Considering many families have multiple kids sharing resources, some of these numbers might be too high even for a minimum. But in a district where high schoolers routinely commute for 2 to 3 hours per day, take 7 classes, and have 5 or more hours of homework per night, this is going to seem like a chance to take some long, calming breaths.

Another piece of this guidance I liked: the “four types of opportunities” schools should emphasize (p. 7). Skill practice; Projects (available in digital and non-digital formats); Enrichment (“puzzles, games, and movement”) (whuuut CPS??); and, my favorite one of all, Reading (“students should have daily opportunities to read diverse, engaging texts of their choice”). Over and over the guidance reiterates that work and activities need to be “made available across all content areas and courses in digital and non-digital formats.”

It also acknowledges that students will be spending a “reduced amount of time on academic work” and states “[g]iven the realities of the digital divide and different levels of access among our families, schools should ensure that students are not penalized or held accountable for mastery of new content” (p. 7).

Students can be given tests, but “during school closures…grades can only be entered into Aspen if they improve your child’s grade” (p. 8). If work is not turned in or finished, students will receive an incomplete instead of an F. The guidance tells us to expect more refinement regarding grading in the days to come. (Mildly alarming.) Throughout this time, teachers will be accessible as well as school counselors.

So far, so good. CPS has been forced by a global pandemic to recognize the real needs of its students and the limitations of resources. For decades CPS has been wedded not just to outmoded and failed ideals from the late 20th and 21st centuries in the guise of “education reform,” but also, it seems mired in dead or misused notions and rhetoric from the 19th—Darwinian survival of the fittest, a Hegelian march toward perfection, and eugenics. In the face of this, and despite whatever comes down from above, teachers have been delivering for decades and I have no doubt that they will throw themselves into this new difficult role with the same devotion as they always have.

For now, I am grateful to see that the guidance from the district, as well as from the state, is starting from a point that is humane, generous, and compassionate. I hope all our students will be able not only to learn during this time, but also learn from this time.

Lest you think, dear reader, that I’ve lost all sense, tomorrow I’m going to deal with the down sides of what’s to come.

Thanks for reading, as always. Be well.