The IGP Meeting

A few posts ago, I talked about my friend Tommy’s clarity of thought when it came to choosing a presidential candidate based on their stance on several key issues. In a response to that posting, Couch Sal posed to me a question asking which issues facing us today do I feel passionate about. Having had some time to ponder that question, I’d have to say that education is the biggest issue for me followed very closely by healthcare (read Health Update and you’ll have a better understanding of my intimate relationship with our healthcare system.) I’ve long been of the belief that if we spent as much money on early childhood education as we do on national defense, we’d be a lot better off. Mind you, I'm not proposing that we spend the money on education instead of defense. Quite the contrary, I’m one of those rare liberals who believe in both strong social programs and a strong military – but that’s a discussion for another time.

And it isn’t all about spending but also about accountability and how funds are administered that I’m concerned about. In my mind, No Child Left Behind (NCLB) is one of the most detrimental and damaging programs ever to be inflicted on the education system in America. The concept that all children are created equal and can therefore be tested equally is ludicrous. And since funding is tied to student performance on the tests, there is a very big incentive for teachers to teach to the test rather than helping students develop skills that can be applied to a multitude to problems. While there is a lot of emphasis put on remedial education (to help improve a school’s performance,) there are no provisions for gifted or talented students. Also, the idea that knowledge of subject matter is a good measure of a person’s ability to teach is equally ridiculous - it is but a small fraction of a person’s ability to teach. I’ve know a lot of teachers in my life and many of them were brilliant minds in their respective fields but were completely inept in a classroom. I’ve also had the honor of knowing a lot of really great teachers – and some of them could have taught just about any subject regardless of their knowledge base.

What started me on this line of thinking was a meeting that Mel and I just had at the middle school with Zoë and a guidance councilor. As an eighth grader in South Carolina, Zoë has to create an Individual Graduation Plan (IGP.) This is but another insane procedure spawned by NCLB. She is only 14 years old, but now has to declare not only what career she would like to pursue, but also pick not one, but all four years worth of high school courses. She’s never been to the high school (except to perform in the auditorium.) She has no idea what the teachers are like. Heck, the councilor we met with couldn’t even tell us which courses out of the catalogue we had would be offered to her (in fact, the woman didn’t even have a course catalogue with descriptions – we only had one because Mel had printed it off the internet.) And yet, we’re supposed to intelligently (and quickly,) design a four year course of study for her. To add to the frustration, not one of the career clusters (which you have to pick from,) comes anywhere close to preparing her for archeology - which is the career she is interested in today. Did I mention she’s only 14? This choice could change by dinner time yet alone over the next four years. Everyone we’ve heard speak on this procedure, including the councilor today, has repeatedly stated that the student is free to make changes to their IGP over time. But what they don’t tell you is that a school’s outcomes assessment is positively affected by the number of students who successfully complete their chosen cluster. This means that school funding is adversely affected by those students who change clusters during their high school tenure. So while they tell you that you can make changes, there is every incentive for them to keep you in the cluster you chose. There’s NCLB rearing its ugly head again.

On top of all this, the poor woman who was trying to help us was more than just a little flustered by the whole situation. She complained about the lack of information she was given as evidenced by the fact that we were in possession of a much more detailed course list than she had. She complained about the software that she had to use that kept freezing up. She was more than a little taken aback by the amount of information Mel came into the meeting with – I got the feeling that she didn’t deal with many parents who came in already knowing how the system works (or doesn’t work, depending on your perspective.) At one point, while we were discussing the need for Zoë to take Chemistry, I asked her to remind me of which year we had decided Zoë would take Algebra II. She tried to answer my question but lost her train of thought and got flustered. She tried to suggest that we come back to that question later. She said, “You see, you got me confused because we’re talking about science now, not math.” “That’s true,” I said, “But the two go hand in hand. With all the formulas used in Chemistry, Zoë will have an easier time if she gets through Algebra II first.” We finally did determine that the chronology of math and science would work but I got the distinct impression that things went much smoother for her when she dealt with parents that didn’t bother her with questions.

All in all, it was a rather surreal experience. I can’t believe that some bozo in Columbia thinks this entire exercise is actually productive. I mean, think about it. Zoë now knows that during her sophomore year, she’ll be learning the fundamentals of Ultimate Frisbee. How exactly does that knowledge benefit her now? And why was it necessary for her to make that choice halfway through eighth grade? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller?