John Thompson, historian and retired teacher in Oklahoma, read the New York Times Magazine’s report on the possibility of a “Lost Year” and wrote these reflections:
Three times, I had to take a break from reading the New York Times Magazine’s special education issue, “The Lost Year.” The Magazine’s powerful reporting delivered gut punch after gut punch, forcing me to put the magazine down, calm myself, and contemplate the suffering our children are enduring.
Three times, as these compelling and emotionally overwhelming student stories hit home, I would get sick at my stomach. I’d sense anxiety growing to the point where it hit as hard as when ideology-driven, Trumpian policies are announced. As these tragedies unfolded over recent months, I got into the habit of taking a break, breathing heavily, and relaxing, resulting in naps to calm my nerves.
The anecdotes in “The Lost Year” illustrating the damage being done to our most vulnerable children hit me especially hard because of decades working in the inner city and our most disadvantaged schools. But I must warn readers who may not have been covered by so many students’ blood or worried over as many traumatized kids that The Lost Year will not be an easy read for them either.
Samantha Shapiro’s “The Children in the Shadows” describes the “nomadism” perpetuated by the New York City homeless shelter system 3-1/2 decades after the Reagan Administration sparked the housing crisis by decimating social services (as his Supply Side Economics destroyed blue collar jobs.) The cruelty was continued in the 1990s as neoliberals tried to show that they could be just as tough as the rightwingers.
Shapiro starts with the obstacles faced by the parents of several elementary students with histories of rising to excellence but who are suffering through The Lost Year. A 2nd grade child of an immigrant, Prince, has been homeless for years (prompted by his mother enduring severe domestic abuse) but who seemed to be headed for magnet or gifted programs before the pandemic. After wasting hours after hours, days after days, accompanying his mother through the bureaucracy, he gets an 84 on a test, and tells her, “I’m sorry, Mama. I’ll do better next time.”
The father of another outstanding 2nd grader worries that her ability to read is being lost, “I’ve seen her watch YouTube 24 hours a day.” Shapiro then describes another second grader, who was very competitive and earned good grades but, before the shutdown, she had a disagreement with a classmate. After being asked to come into the hall to discuss it, the girl screamed piercingly, ripped down bulletin boards, threw things. As she deescalated, the girl asked her social worker to hold her, saying “Are you still proud of me? Do you still love me?
Shapiro also describes J, her son’s best friend, and his wonderful people skills. Despite having dyslexia, J had been doing well in school. His mother, Mae, repeatedly cried through entire nights during an intense effort to avoid eviction. J cried at the loss of his dog due to their eviction. Mae kept him away from her encounter with the marshals, but his sister was too anxious to be separated from her. So, her daughter whistled at birds, and zipped her favorite stuffed animal into her hoodie, as they were evicted.
Nicole Chung’s “A Broken Link” explores the new challenges facing special education students. Chung draws upon her experience as the mother of a 9-year old child with autism to illustrate the obstacles facing kids in good schools, even when they have the advantages of families who can go the extra mile in helping to implement Individual Education Plans. During last spring’s school closures, a “multitude” of children, “many of them disabled,” “‘just fell off the grid.’” This year, with so many schools starting the year online, meaning that they likely begin without personal connections between students and educators, the challenges are likely to be much worse.
By sharing her family’s frustrations, Chung helps make the case presented by Julia Bascom, executive director of the Autistic Self Advocacy Network, that “The pandemic has magnified these huge structural issues. Ultimately, it’s going to be disabled and marginalized students bearing the burden, being delayed, losing time and progress.”
Then, Paul Tough addresses the costs to upwardly striving, low-income students from a high school that had been making progress helping its students succeed in higher education. Disadvantaged students tend to be hurt by the “summer slide,” or the loss of learning gains over summer vacation. Tough focuses on Richmond Hill H.S.’s efforts to prevent “summer melt,” or the loss of students who had intended to go straight to college but don’t enroll in the fall.
Richmond Hill uses “bridge coaches,” who are “near peers” or recent graduates that serve as mentors, and other personalized efforts to help students transition to higher education. This requires “a lot of hand-holding,” and other guidance, and not enough of those personalized contacts are possible during the pandemic. Richmond Hill’s students lost more than 30 parents to the coronavirus, as hundreds of their providers lost their jobs. This means the losses of The Lost Year will be reverberating for years to come.
And that leads to the ways that each story in The Lost Year returns to social and emotional connections, as well as the need to tackle structural issues outside the four walls of classrooms. And that is why the failure of urban schools to reopen has been so tragic.
At times, a discussion moderated by Emily Bazelon, featuring Denver Superintendent Susana Cordova, the Times’ Nikole Hannah-Jones, former Education Secretary John King, the University of Southern California Dean Pedro Noguera, and middle school teacher Shana White, seemed likely to veer off into the blame game. My sense, however, was that they intentionally avoided opportunities to refight the battles of the last two decades. They wisely limited most criticism for the inability of schools to serve at-risk kids to the malpractice of the Trump administration and a lack of resources and time.
For instance, Hannah-Jones pushed the question of why Denver’s low-wage childcare workers were back in class, but not the higher-paid teachers. But Bazelon shifted gears and asked her about other inequities she had seen. This brought the discussion back to big-picture inequities. Hannah-Jones then focused on affluent families who can afford private schools, adding, “I have this deep pit in my stomach about the disparities and really the devastating impact that this period is going to have.”
This also foreshadowed Bazelon’s worries that an increase in private schools and vouchers will worsen segregation.
Hannah-Jones rightly warned that last spring her daughter’s online class of 33 only had about 10 students logged in. Since the discussants also had justifiable complaints about the flawed preparations for this fall’s virtual learning, it could have led to another round of attacking the education “status quo.” But Hannah-Jones explained how she mistakenly believed her daughter had turned in all of her assignments. This candor also encouraged a discussion of the structural problems that make the transition to online learning so daunting.
When asked about the big picture issues and solutions, the discussion remained constructive. Hannah-Jones brought up the opportunity for rejecting high-stakes testing. Bazelon asked if the crisis could promote outdoors learning and flipped classrooms (for older students) where tapes of “star lecturers” free teachers for the people-side of classroom learning. She also asked whether schools should be focusing on emotional health, hoping students will catch up on academic content over time. Noguera largely agreed, and replied with a call for “a national push to get kids reading. Low-tech. Actual books. And writing.”
John King then praised online curriculum provided by organizations like Edutopia. More importantly, he then declined that opportunity to repeat the corporate reform attacks on teachers, who supposedly could have singlehandedly overcome the legacies of segregation, poverty, and trauma if they had “High Expectations!” Contradicting the company line he had long espoused, King called for more counselors, mental health professionals, “high-dosage” tutoring, the expansion of AmeriCorp programs, and full-year instruction.
Superintendent Cordova then called for a new type of summer program where kids “engaged in learning for learning’s sake – not ‘third grade is about multiplication tables…” Instead of mere remediation, she would motivate kids by exposing them to the larger world. This is consistent with Corova’s hope that schools will be able to “try to go deeper as opposed to broader” in teaching and learning.
Shana White, the Georgia teacher, wished that districts had planned for “worst-case scenarios.” That should seem obvious given the state “leadership” coming from Trump loyalists. It sounds like White teaches in a worst possible scenario where teachers must do both – conduct in-person and virtual instruction using Zoom at the same time.
I’m an optimist who believed that data-driven, competition-driven reformers would have recognized what our poorest students would lose if their test-driven reforms were mandated. I wrongly believed that if accountability-driven reformers had known more about real-world schools, and shared experiences with flesh-and-blood students, that they would seek better levers for changing schools. But, it is possible that the pandemic has revealed both the complexity of our intertwined problems, and how there are no shortcuts for bringing true equity to high-poverty schools. It’s a shame that students had to lose so much this year in order to bring an opportunity for adults to come together for real, structural solutions.
It’s also a shame that Trumpian campaigns to deny the reality of “community-spread” of viruses and ideology-driven mandates to hurriedly reopen schools have guaranteed The Lost Year for our most vulnerable children. But maybe we can all unite in a fact-based campaign against Trump and then learn the lessons of The Lost Year, and engage in holistic, meaningful education reforms.
My son attends a so-called “elite” public middle school in NYC. He has about 65 students in each of his remote “classes.” He sits at a desk for 5.5 hours with no breaks, not even for lunch, which he eats at his desk. He does not participate. “What’s the point?” he said, and I didn’t have a great response. He’s depressed and he’s not learning. We’ve decided to pull him out of “school” early so he can play roller hockey in the park, which is something that actually makes him happy. The school can go eff itself if it has a problem with that.
Most public school kids are worse off than we are. It’s horrible what’s been happening to kids since March, and what’s continuing to happen with no end in sight.
“What’s the point?” Three overwhelming words.
Ugh that is so depressing, FLERP. I really feel for your son.
What’s with the huge classes? (Teacher shortage?) Why 5.5 hrs straight, instead of am & pm sessions? (Scheduling issues?) I’m wondering whether the school has communicated to parents about these problems, and whether they expect them to change.
Nobody knows. No communication. We reach out and get a lot of “a lot of students say it’s working great for them!” Or “we know it’s difficult, but things are tough all over!” It’s not just my son’s school, parents from schools all over the city are reporting the same.
For some reason your other replies disappeared. You confirmed the day consists of 9am-2:30 back to back videoconferences without breaks.
In my opinion the biggest problem is size! Even if it were in person, a 70-person class can be little more than lecture with some teacher-directed Q&A – I’m picturing law school classes. (Which work for highly motivated grad students but that’s about it). It’s sad: the city has managed to mount a platform that in theory, with say 20 participants, could retain a fair amount of the social interaction necessary to learning. With smaller groups there would even be a chance of teacher and students getting to know each other.
Class size should be capped at 30. Three classes per wk per subject: one 30-person lecture w/Q&A, plus 2 15-person work/ discussion sections. Each student would have breaks scattered across his weekly schedule. So in theory, 3/5 of a normal year’s curriculum can be accomplished with some meaningful learning going on. The set-up you’ve described is going to leave most students frustrated, unhappy, learning little, & probably a high %age of absence.
The pandemic has shone a light the structural inequities in our schools. Poor students suffer the most because they must bear the inequities in their schools and their homes as well. They are most likely to live in unsafe, crowded homes where parents are front line workers that are most at risk for getting the infection. These students also suffer from a lack of access to health care, stable housing, proper nutrition and access to technology. For the poorest of students schools are safe havens that reach out to help them. With all the disruption from Covid, poor students are missing the connection to the world at large that human teachers provide and minimal opportunities continue their education.
We know these structural disparities exist, but what are we willing to do about it? We cannot test our way to equity or privatize our way to it either. Blaming poor people for their circumstance is no answer either. Many of the systemic structural inequities go far beyond the reach of the schoolhouse. What schools can focus on is fairer funding, opportunities for integration, and more supports for students and their families.
Leave it to John King to avoid the big picture and focus on fast non-fixes like AmeriCorps. TFA gets millions of tax dollars from Americorps. Individuals who work in Americorp are temps using it’s jobs as stepping stones to more lucrative opportunities. John King, like Arne Duncan have never been interested in major policy changes that end the racist charter school & TFA structures.
Thank you for nailing the puffery of John King, who is so like Arne Duncan.The “temps can do it” solution King offers is a farce– more recruits from Americorps.
And leave it up to him to praise online curriculum producers. Gotta keep that money flowing into ed tech and away from the kids.
I have a question that applies to NYS and NYC — but may be general to other states.
Since mandated testing did not occur in 2020, and it looks iffy again this year (no matter who is in the oval office), doesn’t this prove that the entire testing program is unnecessary?
That said, how do we crusade against the likely return to such a failed and harmful program? How do we institute better assessment alternatives?
Unfortunately both parties in Congress have been obsessed with standardized testing for 20 years. Despite the failed promises, they won’t let go. Opt out is most successful way to send a message.
Diane . . . part of the problem which has its roots in the “let’s see immediate results” model, rather than understanding that happy and motivated learners are developing over the long term; and where their insights and that development will play out long after formal schooling is out and over.
Administrators and policy-makers have wanted natural-science-laboratory kinds of results . . . rather than allowing teachers and curriculum writers to delve deeper into what occurs over the long term by exposure to the arts, humanities, history, etc.
This viewpoint, of course, is “informed” by the state “getting our money’s worth” but only in short-term “paper accountability,” which we know now has not been forthcoming. In this model, the deeper threads in human development are systematically overlooked.
Old-story . . . still with us. My thought is that we are paying for it as we speak . . . need I use the term “Trump’s base”? CBK
While a wide range of modalities in respect to instructional strategies being implemented during our “pandemic days,” is standardized testing in April, 2021 really warranted? Let’s be honest, how valid will those scores be anyway? Why don’t we just save the $10 million for testing and provide PPE for teachers in Oklahoma? At this point, Oklahoma is most definitely not OK.
Doesn’t “what” prove it’s unnecessary?
Obviously the absence of statewide testing for non-instructional purposes. Besides, we have the NAEP that is done every two years on a sampling basis.
The virus has thrown school districts for loop. But I defy you to tell me how education will fall off its axis without the current testing garbage. Oh yeah, I guess it’s good to know that poverty still correlates with test performance. Like confirming each year that circles are round.
Sorry, it wasn’t obvious to me from your comment.
Education is already way off its axis where I live. I would prefer keeping state tests so parents can know this year how their own kids are progressing. As a parent, I like the feedback the tests give. The real garbage right now is what’s happening in the (virtual) classrooms, not the tests. But I’m just speaking as a parent.
Flerp,
What’s the unit of analysis: individual student , classroom, school, district, state?
Your rightful concern is your son. I submit that teacher observation and judgment (as well as teacher-made tests), informed by your son’s accomplishments and work on appropriate projects make commercial paper and pencil tests the enemy of learning.
Shake hands.
[shakes hands] [washes hands]
See my comment above, however, if you want a sense of how much teacher observation and judgment and student learning is happening in the nation’s largest district.
Hello Flerp,
If your own son is having trouble learning online and is not participating, would you still want him to take the tests to see how he is progressing this year? Do you think the results of his tests will give you an accurate picture of his learning this year? Do you know what the Danielson rubric requires of teachers? If so, I’d like to know how it can be applied to evaluating teachers who are teaching online and in person under the current conditions. Thank you.
Yes, I would have no objection to him taking the tests this year. I think it would be a useful data point apart from what will surely be massively inflated grades this year, assuming grades are given at all.
I don’t know much about the Danielson rubric.
In “Won’t Back Down,” a movie released in 2012, that was pure misleading propaganda BS for the charter school industry, the parent, a single mon, played by Maggie Gyllenhall, is in a scene with her grade school-age daughter that is sitting on the couch watching TV. Even when the mother is in the apartment, she makes no attempt as a parent to turn the TV off and tell her daughter to read a book or magazine or to do school work. NONE!
While reading this post, I kept seeing examples of parents not doing their job as parents.
What the “F#@”!
Example from this post: The father of another outstanding 2nd grader worries that her ability to read is being lost, “I’ve seen her watch YouTube 24 hours a day.”
Why didn’t that father take away his 2nd grader’s digital device (desktop, laptop, tablet, or smartphone) and tell her she had to read a book or a magazine like National Geographic or Smithsonian for an hour to earn fifteen minutes to watch YouTube videos?
If school-age children that are out of school were told by their parents that they had no choice, they had to read paper books, magazines, and newspapers to earn internet time, their reading ability would improve even when they are not in a classroom with a teacher.
Kids will be kids, of course, so they will debate, throw tantrums and manipulate to force their parents to back down and let them mess around watching endless YouTube videos, but what does that say about the parents that let their children rule the house?
Who is in charge, the parent or the child?
I wish people could understand the tremendous stress teachers are dealing with right now. They’re dealing with unworkable schedules and requirements that change daily. Students are overwhelmed with the amount of work they’re getting. It’s not a healthy situation for anyone.
At least the students of 2020 are receiving some education. 😐
What did the students of 1918 receive? Newspapers? Radio? Libraries? 🤔