Archives for category: Technology

Capital & Main published a five-part series on teaching during the pandemic. The series is called “The Year of Teaching Dangerously.”

Sasha Abramsky launched the series with an article about how schools in California were adapting to the pandemic.

Abramsky writes about the uncertainty, confusion, and conflict that accompanied the shutdown, as teachers were required to address new realities and to confront stark inequities.

In March, when Northern California counties issued stay-at-home orders, followed shortly afterwards by a statewide shutdown, schools scrambled to improvise a pivot to online “distance learning.” Some were able to make the change within days; others took many weeks. Grading and assessment systems were largely put to one side, at least in the public school system. And school districts rushed – and in some cases struggled – to purchase and distribute Chromebooks or iPads to students who didn’t have them; to set up Wi-Fi hotspots for families lacking home Internet access; to work out how to keep distributing food to children from low-income families who relied on school breakfasts and lunches; and to set up methods of teaching online that wouldn’t leave out students who had special education plans, or who were English language learners.

Bureaucratic systems fabled for their inflexibility were, suddenly, tasked with finding kluge-like solutions, at speed, to meet these extraordinary challenges. Inevitably, the result was hit or miss.

The articles in this week’s new series, “The Year of Teaching Dangerously,” reflect the extraordinary challenges facing elementary, middle and high schools as the pandemic continues to wreak havoc on daily life.

What began as a temporary shutdown evolved into a new way of life, for teachers, students, and parents.

The arrival of COVID-19 has made children and educators across the nation dependent on distance learning for since March. Many parents recognize the defects of distance learning and eagerly await the opportunity to send their child back to real school when it is safe. They understand that an iPad or computer can’t take the place of a real teacher.

Meanwhile the for-profit edtrch industry sees the pandemic as a golden opportunity to cash in on a crisis.

For sound guidance at this perilous time, please read the statement released by the Campaign for Commercial-Free Childhood:

See the statement here.

This post was sent by a teacher in Westchester County, New York, who prefers to remain anonymous:


Based on the hybrid/blended learning model described in the re-entry plan, this is what an average class period would look like in a typical 40-minute class. While an 80-minute class has more flexibility, the protocols are the same. This is a SMALL sampling of what life will be like for teachers and students in a hybrid model with the protocols outlined in the re-entry document.

This example would start at the transition between period 1 (which ends at 9:15am) and period 2 (which begins at 9:18am). In a 40- minute per class schedule, there are only three minutes between periods for all class periods. In an 80-minute per class schedule, there are only five minutes between periods for all class periods.

In this example, the “cohort” model where students stay in one spot and teachers move to them is not considered. It is not a practical solution for most classes—especially those that require supplies.

1. I just finished a class that ended at 9:15. I rush to my next class where another teacher is finishing a class that ends at 9:15. I do not like teaching in this room after this particular teacher because I do not trust that teacher to enforce social distancing and mask protocols. That teacher tends to be too lax. I need to go to the bathroom, but there were too many people waiting to get in (given the social distancing requirements). I did not want to risk leaving my students in the hallway given the risk of unsupervised interactions. Plus, the bathroom protocols are confusing. Overall, it’s unclear when I will be able to go to the bathroom at a safe time. I get to the room and I need to wait until all of the students from that class exit—presumably in a socially distanced manner (although that is unlikely since they will only have three minutes to get to the next class which starts at 9:18. My students are starting to arrive and begin to crowd me since there is no place to go. While waiting, I have no safe place to stand and there are students, teachers and other staff headed in all directions in the hallway. Once the classroom is clear, I rush in.

2. As the students from the first class leave, they encounter students waiting in the hallway who need to come in for my class. It is unlikely that they are following distancing or mask protocols because there is NO ONE supervising them, beyond a quick yell as a teacher passes–“hey get those masks on” “kids please separate–you can’t be closer than 6 feet.” It is highly unlikely that anyone will hear the teacher since it is quite loud (especially with multiple teens and pre- teens shouting for attention). The teacher will rush off to get to whatever class they need to get to. Or the teacher will ignore it entirely because the hallways will be the most dangerous places in the building–especially between classes.

3. Even if I arrive a minute or two after 9:15 (which is inevitable since I’m rushing from another class), I am concerned that my students will enter the room without monitored social distancing and mask wearing. The doors are propped open by protocol (to allow air flow), so there will be a period of time where the room is unsupervised.

4. Somehow in this time from 9:15 to 9:18, every surface is supposed to be disinfected. It is unclear who will do this or how it will be done. In all likelihood, it will not happen and as the day goes on, the room will become an ever-growing petri dish.

5. According to the protocols, students are supposed to wash their hands when they come in. After entering the room, some students make a beeline for their desks, while others head to the sink. There will be a breakdown in social distancing because it will be impossible to monitor this and have an organized method of entering, sitting, and washing hands. When there are only three minutes between classes, the transitions are inherently chaotic. A line forms in the crowded space leading to the sink. This will become a source of concern and I will have to say something like: “students please socially distance! Make sure you put those dirty towels in…..(not sure where that type of waste will go). Make sure you clean up that water that is now all over the floor and on the counters! That water is now contaminated— please try not to get water everywhere. Please hurry, we only have about 35 minutes for class. Oh, and I’m saying this on the opposite side of the room b/c I don’t want to be near you”

6. Eventually students go to their assigned square.

7. Students are carrying their supplies with them from class to class, so they put them………somewhere?

8. Now students students set up plexiglass that they are also carrying with them all day

9. About this time a student asks to go to the bathroom—which could be problematic. It is unclear when we are supposed to use the bathroom—there are apparently “designated times” for classes to go, and I don’t think this is our time. However, I allow the student to go because it looks like it will be a problem if I don’t. Before I allow the student to go, I remind the student to wear their mask and do not congregate in the hallway. And be sure to walk on the appropriate part of the hallway. And come straight back to class, again using the appropriate hallway (and stairs if applicable…it’s hard to keep track of which stairs and hallways are for which direction….I’m pretty sure the bathroom is in the middle of those one-way hallways…or it may be where there are lanes separating each side—but no one ever sticks to those lanes because….no one sees the tape and they are students and it is impossible to supervise).

10. When that student comes back, they will need to wash their hands. Again.

11. In the meantime, I am trying to open some of the windows for airflow, but many of the windows do not open properly. I am hesitant to go in the back of the room because of the proximity to students. I check the air conditioner to ensure that the airflow is on “fresh” air and not “circulate” since circulated air is supposed to spread the virus. At this point, my only thought is about protecting myself against the virus. After a week of this, I am sure I will be in a heightened state of anxiety since every minute of every day will require constant monitoring of my surroundings. Anyway, I’m not sure if the air conditioner is set correctly and I’ve lost too much time already.

12. Some students will arrive late because some of the hallways and staircases are directional–meaning they might need to circle the building to go in the proper direction. Some students may get lost going this way. Others may bump into friends, take off their masks and chat. Some students may find this system highly stressful which will make it even harder for them to follow the “get to class protocol.” Some students may drop their box of material while trying to balance their jacket, box and plexiglass (and any other items they may be carrying since lockers are not in use).

13. I wait until late students wash their hands and set up at their spot.

14. At best, it is now 9:28 (10 minutes into class). Likely, it is after 9:30. Best case scenario, there are 30 minutes left (not including packing up and cleaning and leaving in a socially distanced manner). 15. Now I need to set up livestreaming. The second half of my class have been waiting at home for class to start (at 9:18), however given all of the protocols we must follow in the building, it is impossible to start at 9:18. I’m concerned that students will get impatient and leave. As I try to livestream, there are complications. It’s Zoom and there are always complications. Also, we have webcams, but the only ones available to purchase are off-brand copies of major label webcams that have been sold out since March. While they look nice, they are glitchy. Plus, the computer that the webcam is attached to is an older computer with older hardware and limited RAM. It is difficult to stream to 10 or so students with older technology. While our bandwidth has improved, every class is attempting to stream at the same time. Plus, every cell phone, Chromebook and laptop in the building is tapping into WIFI. We always have slowdowns mid-day. It takes me about five minutes (if I’m lucky) to connect with the half of my class that is at home. While I’m doing this, the in-class students have nothing to do and start to become restless and talk to each other. Students often lower their masks to talk and I start to notice this out of the corner of my eye, but I’m trying to make the livestreaming work.

16. As I finally get the remote students on board, I turn around to ensure students are socially distanced, have their masks on and are sitting in their assigned square. I reprimand at least several students for having masks below their noses. While I address the issues in the classroom, the remote students have nothing to do—some of them turn off their camera. It is now 9:35 (if I’m lucky and there are minimal tech problems on the livestream side and few issues of social distancing on the classroom side).

17. A student asks for a scheduled mask break–he can’t breathe. Several other students complain too. I say, “not now, I need to get started.” Those students are upset at me. One is really embarrassed that I said their name because the students at home heard it and they know the class is being livestreamed. Some students have expressed concern that their friends will secretly record the class or take screenshots and put them on Instagram. Even worse, they worry about becoming a meme. I am a little worried about this too. The students at home are really bored.

18. Now I need to take attendance. It’s halfway through the period already. I must take attendance for two different sets of students. Technology problems will make this longer—there are always problems with our attendance program. It slows mid-day when many classes are using the network. The livestreaming has placed a huge strain on our bandwidth needs.

19. Finally, I explain the directions for the class. However, I need to find a place to stand where both groups can see me. I generally stand in the same spot all period due to social distancing rules.

20. I am not able to move around room due to social distancing concerns.

21. I will be teaching with a mask and a shield. Communication will be difficult. Students will ask me to repeat information—although this will be difficult to do from home, so they will tune out and pretend to be listening. Students will grow to hate these mandatory livestreams. They will tell their parents that it is a waste of time. It’s really difficult to understand anything (b/c the microphones on the off-brand webcams do not work well), plus they can’t do many of the activities that I insist should be doable at home. Although, it is difficult to determine this since there is no research about best-practices for a hybrid classroom where half the students are at home and the other half are in the classroom. To be honest, I am completely winging this. There is no time to prepare these lessons and I have no prior material to fall back on. Even though I am a veteran teacher, I have no idea how to teach in this model—no one does. I spend most of my day trying to stay safe.

22. Teaching is a bit awkward. I’m not sure who to look at. When I look at my in-class students, I’m staring at a group of evenly spaced students with masks (most are hanging slightly askew). I then turn around to see a Brady bunch group of students looking like they are being tortured. Somehow, I need to find inspiration. We are just about ready to do an activity. It’s now 9:42 (at best)

23. The “lesson” now begins—we have 16 minutes left. Some days it will be a PowerPoint that will somehow have to be presented to two different groups in two different locations—I never remember where to direct my voice. I try to get passionate about the subject but then remember that jumping around with a face shield and getting sweat and spittle on the inside of my mask is really disconcerting—so I tone it down. Plus, I look crazy jumping around in that get up. Also, moving around erratically causes my shield to shift and my mask to slide down my face. On other days, students will do an activity. Students will not be able to collaborate given the two different environments and the need to socially distance in the classroom. Activities will be severely limited to accommodate social distancing and a remote audience. I will not be able to distribute materials— especially for classroom work—because the group at home will not be able to participate. If a student needs one on one help to understand the handout, I will not be able to help due to social distancing. I’ll try to help from afar. It’s really difficult to address questions from two different sets of students so I focus more on the in-class students. The students at home become progressively more disengaged. Lessons in this environment will most certainly be rote and dry. There will be minimal engagement.

At 9:53, I start to wrap things up to get the class ready for the next group. I’m very anxious about these transition times. Students need to make sure they have all of their belongings in their box. They need to clean the plexiglass and take it with them. Supplies used in class (if they belong in class) must be cleaned. The remote group has already signed out b/c there is nothing for them to do. In fact, they only had about 10 minutes worth of “learning.”

The class ends at 9:58 and the next class begins at 10:01—and this happens all over again.

It turns out that my prep period is from 10:01 to 10:41. This is when I am supposed to prep for classes and/or grade material. This is especially important now because every lesson must be prepared anew to fit this hybrid environment. However, there is no place for me to go. The hallways are jammed. I cannot stay in the classroom due to social distancing protocols. Plus, it would be awkward if I end up on the livestream of another class. I try to strategically plan when I can use the bathroom safely. However, I do not want to remain in the building. There literally is no room for me to go to. The faculty lounge has limited occupancy—plus, the ventilation in there is terrible and I do not want to be in another room with many other people—some of whom may not be wearing their masks correctly. So, I decide to go to my car. To get there, I have to use a specified exit which is on the opposite side of the building of my car. By the time I navigate to the proper exit and wander over to my car, it’s 10:15. If I used the bathroom, then it is probably 10:25. I lie down in my car seat for 10 minutes max. Then I have to race back to the proper entrance (and go through an entrance exam?) to get to my next class on time. Obviously nothing is planned or graded during this time.

Multiply this by 6 classes. Add in lunch and specials. And there WILL be other challenges that I didn’t address. These are just the most obvious.

I question how much learning would occur in this environment. I’m worried about my health and the health of my students and the community as a whole.

Thomas Ultican continues his investigation of the tentacles of billionaire reformers, this time focusing on the tumultuous career of John Deasy, who resigned as superintendent of the Stockton, California, school district.

Ultican shows how Deasy rose to become superintendent of the Los Angeles Unified School District, how Justin tenure there was marked by controversy as he walked in lockstep with the Eli Broad-Bill Gates agenda of charter school expansion, high-stakes testing, and huge investments in technology. His controversial decision to spend $1.3 billion on iPads and tech curriculum led to the end of his tenure in L.A.

On to Stockton, where the Mayor and three school board members were closely allied with the billionaire agenda.

A sad and cautionary tale about the destructive billionaire-funded movement to gut public schools.

Andy Hargreaves is an internationally renowned scholar and author who taught for many years at Boston College. He wrote this article about education technology for Valerie Strauss’s blog “The Answer Sheet.”

I previously posted a presentation that Andy delivered at an international conference in South Korea, where he described his vision of the future post-pandemic. It was brilliant and points in the direction we should be heading.

Strauss writes about Andy (who is a personal friend of mine):

Hargreaves is a research professor at Boston College and visiting professor at the University of Ottawa who has been working for decades to improve school effectiveness. He has been awarded visiting professorships in the United States, Canada, the United Kingdom, Hong Kong, Sweden, Spain, Japan, Norway and Singapore. And he is past president of the International Congress for School Effectiveness and Improvement.

Hargreaves founded and serves as co-president of the Atlantic Rim Collaboratory, or ARC, a group of nine nations committed to broadly defined excellence, equity, well-being, inclusion, democracy and human rights. He has consulted with numerous governments, the World Bank, the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development, universities and professional associations. He has written more than 30 books — and received numerous awards for them — and he was the founding editor in chief of the Journal of Educational Change.

Andy Hargreaves writes:

As we head into the dog days of summer, a new mantra is being spread across the world’s governments and through its media. It’s called “reimagining education.” On the surface, much of it, even most of it, sounds helpful and positive. It’s rightfully concerned about the physical health of children and their teachers. Its visions of innovative learning are engaging and purposeful. But eventually, the conclusion is drawn that these interests can be best advanced by digital technology.

In the midst of the coronavirus crisis, New York Gov. Andrew M. Cuomo (D) signed an agreement with billionaire businessman Bill Gates to “reimagine” public education in the state through technology. Cuomo dredged up outworn and inaccurate stereotypes of “the old model of everybody goes and sits in the classroom, and the teacher is in front of that classroom and teaches that class, and you do that all across the city, all across the state, all these buildings, all these physical classrooms.” “Why,” he wondered, “with all the technology you have?”
Cuomo questions why school buildings still exist — and says New York will work with Bill Gates to ‘reimagine education’
A report in May by Microsoft, co-authored by its staff, on reimagining education has constructive advice on how to create meaningful learning and provide health protections and social distancing once children return to school. Yet its ultimate vision is for a “hybrid learning environment” where “technology will be prominent.” “A blend of real-life and online learning will concur. Learning will happen at school, at home, in the community and beyond.”
This kind of talk is energizing education ministers, international lending banks, technology consultants and not-for-profits, who are eager to reimagine a better post-covid future for public schools.

In effect, though, a lot of reimagining education is about how learning will be leveraged or delivered in a blended or hybrid format that is available anytime, anywhere, through public-private partnerships involving digital technology.
Yet, after years and billions of dollars of investment in digital technology in schools, there is little firm evidence that it substantially improves children’s learning. In her book “Slaying Goliath,” Diane Ravitch, former assistant secretary of education and public education advocate, showed that there is no evidence to support (and there is much to contradict) the claim that superior performance results from online learning.

The Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development (OECD) is cautious about the benefits of technology for learning. Its own evidence is that “computers do not improve pupil results.” The OECD’s education chief, Andreas Schleicher, has warned that despite some promise shown by technology options during the coronavirus pandemic, “education systems need to pay close attention that technology will not further amplify existing inequalities in access and quality of learning.”

“This is not just a matter of providing access to technology and open learning resources,” Schleicher said. “It will also require maintaining effective social relationships between families, teachers and students — particularly for those students who lack the resilience, learning strategies or engagement to learn on their own.” A July OECD report further advises that “any digital strategy should take into account potential risks” of things like digital distraction, “and balance digital use with screen-free activities.”

Even before the novel coronavirus, excess screen time and technology use had already increased adolescent anxiety, especially after the global penetration of smartphone use among adolescents beginning around 2012. Digital addiction also distracts young children from outdoor activity, free play and face-to-face relationships. During the pandemic, young children up to age 11 have been spending more than double the amount of screen time recommended by pediatricians.
Necessity is the mother of invention. During the novel coronavirus, digital learning at home has been an invaluable stopgap to enable children’s learning to persist somehow. It’s hard to imagine how everyone would have coped without the Internet and other digital technologies if this pandemic had happened even 20 years ago.

But if necessity is the mother of invention, we should also avoid making a virtue out of a necessity. Kids, parents and teachers have been experiencing endless problems with digital learning at home — kids who can’t concentrate; devices that break down; families with several kids, only one device, and practically no space; lessons devoid of humor or emotion; young kids walking off or hiding under tables during the middle of a Zoom class (I’m talking about my own 5-year-old twin grandchildren here!); insufficient instructions for parents to do things like help the child practice cursive writing (but how, exactly??).

Teenagers are now the greatest mental health risk of all age groups during the pandemic. Adolescents need to go to school to be with their friends, develop their senses of identity, become responsible citizens, learn about how to deal with racism and prejudice (especially if they live with parents who may be racist and prejudiced), and so on. They need less time on screens, not more. We don’t need to be downplaying the importance of physical schools just yet.

When they get back to school, children will not need more of the anytime-anywhere Big Tech strategy. They will need more face-to-face support in the here and now — to get back the habits of lining up, taking turns and listening to others; to get help dealing with the post-traumatic stresses that accompany disasters such as this; to get the special education support to help them deal with learning disabilities and ADHD distractions for which there was little or no support at home, and so on. Learning in the here and now in school will need more human and less hybrid learning. It will need less technology, or more judicious use of it, than most kids have experienced during covid-19.

Of course, technology can and does enhance great teaching by using rich resources and methods for generating interactive student engagement. But technology will not make weaker teachers more inspiring, caring or empathetic, more able to understand and develop global learning competencies like collaboration or citizenship, more able to deal with prejudice and bullying, or more ready to help their children learn and play outdoors. Only effective selection, training and development of teachers can do that.

We can benefit from using digital technology in learning. But we need to do it in a way that deliberately uses technology in a balanced (not just a hybrid or blended) way, and that maximizes the benefits, while minimizing the clear risks of excess screen-time and digital addiction.

A balanced approach to digital technology use should also pinpoint areas where it uniquely provides something of value that cannot be offered in any other way. This is what the business field calls its “unique value proposition” (UVP). One UVP of digital technology occurs when children with special needs are given devices and programs to access and express their learning. Another is when teachers in small, remote rural schools can connect with and learn from colleagues in their subject or grade level who teach elsewhere. These are just two of the many UVPs of digital technology use in schools.

Balanced learning with judicious use of technology is an essential part of the physical schools we will always need. But once kids go home, they don’t stop learning. What happens then?

When I was a teenager, learning after school took place through the books I took home that were shared by my classmates, as well as in the public library that was available to everyone. After school learning was public, universal and free.

But digital learning at home — the new global public library — is not public, universal and free.

One thing the pandemic has reminded us of in U.S. education is about the great chasm that is the digital divide. So instead of leaving digital learning resources outside the school to market forces and privileged access, anytime, anywhere, we need to create conditions for technologically enhanced learning that are universal, public and free to those who need it. Learning-related technology outside the school should be a civil right, alongside food, shelter and education itself that is available everywhere and always to everyone as a universal entitlement. It should be free of charge to those who need it.

If this scenario sounds far-fetched, it already exists in several countries. They include one of the world’s highest performers in education, Estonia, where all curriculum materials were already online before covid-19.

In South Korea, access to the Internet and to digital devices is close to 100 percent. Then there is Uruguay, where every family has access to digital technology for learning. This has resulted from a policy of one laptop per child that was established in 2007, and from a national, government-funded innovation agency that has supported projects that are linked to but not driven by various kinds of technology, in more than a third of the nation’s schools. The existence of this national platform meant that within days of learning moving from schools to homes, use of the digital platform went up by over 1,000 percent.

Immediately after the pandemic, we need to focus on the here and now to help schools cope with post-traumatic stress and other mental health problems, and to reestablish relationships and routines.

Technology has an important role in schools to make good teaching and learning better. But even as a hybrid, it should not be the main driver or leverage for reimagining better learning in schools. It’s not just hybrids or blends we want. We need a thoughtful balance that uses the UVP of technology wherever it can improve learning and well-being, while actively avoiding excess screen time that might disturb that balance, and continuing to promote outstanding face-to-face teachers and teaching that are still the cornerstone of an effective school system.

At the same time, reimagining education should also ensure that additional learning opportunities at home are universal, public and free of charge everywhere and always to all those who need it.

Enough, but not too much, digital technology and a lot more face-to-face support for vulnerable students after the pandemic — that’s what our reimagined new normal now needs to include.

Nancy Flanagan writes here about why she is sticking with Facebook, despite it multiple flaws.

I was on Facebook for a brief time, then quit. Then resumed, then quit again. What I discovered was that when I quit Facebook, my identity remained there, waiting for me to return. I was reminded of King George III in “Hamilton” singing “You’ll Be Back.”

No, I won’t. It’s addictive, true. But anyone who wants to reach me knows how to get in touch. I don’t need another way to waste time. I have too many already. And I don’t want to direct a penny towards Mark Zuckerberg.

What do you think?

Will you stick with Facebook or did you quit? Or did you never sign up?

Andy Hargreaves, a scholar of international renown, participated in a virtual seminar in South Korea about post-pandemic education.

His 20-minute presentation is brilliant, pithy, and compelling.

Look for it on this YouTube video. He starts at about 22:00 minutes and concludes at about the 43:00 minute mark.

He urges South Korea and the rest of the world not to “return” to austerity, competition, high-stakes testing, and education that is subservient to GDP, but to pursue a very different path.

To learn about that different and very alluring vision of the future, take 20 minutes of your time, watch and listen.

The National Education Policy Center reviewed Summit Learning Program, which has been heavily subsidized by the Chan-Zuckerberg Initiative and the Gates Foundation, is spreading, but careful review shows no evidence for its success.


The Summit Learning Program: Big Promises, Lots of Money, Little Evidence of Success

Key Takeaway: Despite a lack of evidence that it is effective, the Summit Learning Program, propelled by a flood of Silicon Valley money, continues to spread.

Find Documents:
Press Release: https://nepc.info/node/10398

NEPC Publication: http://nepc.colorado.edu/publication/summit-2020

Contact:

William J. Mathis: (802) 383-0058, wmathis@sover.net Faith Boninger: (480) 390-6736, fboninger@gmail.com Alex Molnar: (480) 797-7261, nepc.molnar@gmail.com

BOULDER, CO (June 25, 2020) – Virtual learning and personalized learning have been at the forefront of education reform discussions for over a decade. One leader of this sector, Summit Public Schools, has been backed by almost $200 million philanthropic dollars from the Chan- Zuckerberg Initiative, the Gates Foundation, and others. Summit Public Schools has aggressively marketed its Summit Learning Platform to schools across the United States since 2015. As a result, the Summit Learning Program is now one of the most prominent digital personalized learning programs in the United States.

In “Big Claims, Little Evidence, Lots of Money: The Reality Behind the Summit Learning Program and the Push to Adopt Digital Personalized Learning Platforms,” Faith Boninger, Alex Molnar, and Christopher M. Saldaña, of the University of Colorado Boulder, provide a thorough analysis of Summit Public Schools, an 11-school charter network operating in California and Washington. Summit Public Schools began marketing its proprietary Summit Learning Program to potential “partner” schools in 2015 as a free, off-the-shelf, personalized learning program; it is now used in nearly 400 schools nationwide.

The marketing message of Summit Learning Program trades on the alleged success of the Summit Public Schools. Summit claims to have developed a “science-based” personalized learning model of teaching and learning that results in all of its students being academically prepared for college. It further claims that its students succeed in college and are prepared to lead successful, fulfilled lives. These successes, it claims, are the result of its unique approach to personalized learning and the use of the digital platform at the heart of its approach.

None of these claims made by Summit Public Schools have been confirmed by independent evaluators. In fact, other than scant bits of self-selected information provided by Summit itself, Boninger, Molnar and Saldaña found no evidence in the public record that confirms the claims. Nor did Summit Public Schools provide the information that the authors solicited in a California public records request.

Despite the lack of evidence to support the claims made by Summit Public Schools, the Summit Learning Program has been adopted by nearly 400 schools across the country. While Summit has offered positive anecdotes and some selected data, there is no solid evidence that “partner” schools are experiencing the promised success; to the contrary, there have been a number of reported incidents of problems and dissatisfaction. Further, the student data collected pursuant to the contracts between Summit and these partner schools presents a potentially significant risk to student privacy and opens the door to the exploitation of those data by the Chan Zuckerberg Initiative and possibly by unknown third parties—for purposes that have nothing to do with improving the quality of those students’ educations.

Virtual education and personalized learning are at the top of the education reform agenda in large measure because of hundreds of millions of dollars in funding and advocacy by philanthropic organizations (e.g., the Gates Foundation), large digital platforms (e.g., Facebook and Google), and venture capitalists anxious to access the school market.

Exacerbated by the continuing COVID-19 pandemic, schools across the country are struggling to find safe ways to educate their students. The rapid spread of the
policymakers with to protect the public interest by establishing oversight and accountability mechanisms related to digital platforms and personalized learning programs.

Find Big Claims, Little Evidence, Lots of Money: The Reality Behind the Summit Learning Program and the Push to Adopt Digital Personalized Learning Platforms, by Faith Boninger, Alex Molnar and Christopher M. Saldaña, at:

http://nepc.colorado.edu/publication/summit-2020

This research brief was made possible in part by the support of the Great Lakes Center for Education Research and Practice (greatlakescenter.org).

The National Education Policy Center (NEPC), housed at the University of Colorado Boulder School of Education, produces and disseminates high-quality, peer-reviewed research to inform education policy discussions. Visit us at: http://nepc.colorado.edu

The virtual charter industry is anticipating growth in enrollments and profits, thanks to the pandemic.

The largest of the virtual charters is the K12 Inc. virtual charter chain, listed on the New York Stock Exchange, whose revenues exceeded $1 billion this year.

Executives haul in big salaries (one of K12’s founders, Ron Packard, was paid $5 million a year but has since moved on to lead other charter chains). Michael Milken was an early investor in K12 and Bill Bennett was a prominent leader until he made racist remarks that caused him to be removed.

The most important thing to know about virtual charter schools is that they have dismal track records. They enroll as many students as possible through heavy advertising and marketing, but their graduation rates are low, their test scores are low, and their attrition rates are high.

Numerous studies of virtual charter schools agree that their results are very poor. A CREDO study in 2015 concluded that students in virtual charters lose ground in reading and lose the equivalent of a year of instruction in math.

While findings vary for each student, the results in CREDO’s report show that the majority of online charter students had far weaker academic growth in both math and reading compared to their traditional public school peers. To conceptualize this shortfall, it would equate to a student losing 72 days of learning in reading and 180 days of learning in math, based on a 180-day school year. This pattern of weaker growth remained consistent across racial-ethnic subpopulations and students in poverty.

The studies of virtual schools by Gary Miron and his colleagues report graduation rates of about 50%, as compared to a graduation rate of 83% in traditional public schools, as well as low performance compared to regular public schools.

So, if you want virtual learning at home and you don’t care if your child actually learns anything, sign up.

Sam Wineburg, an education professor at Stanford, and Nadav Ziv, his student, delved into the .org domain and explain here why it is deceptive.

Readers assume that .org implies a trustworthy site. It does not.

They write:

Dot-org symbolizes neither quality nor trustworthiness. It’s a marketing tool that relies on a widespread but false association with credibility….The dot-org domain is controlled by the Public Interest Registry, which was sold last month to Ethos Capital, a private equity firm. The three letters are marketed as “a powerful signal that your site serves a greater good — rather than just a bottom line.” It’s a claim that leads people to make errors about whom and what to trust.

Unlike dot-gov or dot-edu, which are closed to the general public, dot-org is an “open” domain. Anyone can register a dot-org without passing a character test. Even commercial sites can be dot-orgs. Craigslist — among the world’s largest ad sites — is craigslist.org. There are over 10 million dot-orgs, each of which pays roughly $10 per year to register. All you have to do to get one is fill out an online form and provide payment.

Registration fees generated $92 million in revenue for the Public Interest Registry in 2018 alone. In theory these revenues could grow much larger soon — in June, the Internet Corporation for Assigned Names and Numbers, the supervisory body that regulates the internet’s domain name system, agreed to lift price caps on dot-orgs. Still, Andy Shea, a spokesperson for the Public Interest Registry, says it plans to keep the pricing for dot-orgs low, with increases of no more than 10 percent on average a year.

In the Public Interest Registry’s latest marketing blitz, they unveiled a logo painted in “deep royal blue,” a shade they say evokes “feelings of trust, security and reliability.” They tell new customers to expect an increase in “donations, and trust for donors” when they become part of the “domain of trust.”

Noteworthy nonprofits, civic organizations and religious groups have embraced the domain — and so have a host of bad actors. All reaped the benefits of dot-org’s association with credibility.

Educational institutions unwittingly shape misperceptions around dot-orgs. Many colleges and universities, including Harvard and Northwestern, steer students in the wrong direction. They equate dot-orgs with nonprofit groups and issue no warning of the dangers lurking beneath the domain’s positive aura.

Dot-org is the favored designation of “astroturf” sites, groups that masquerade as grass roots efforts but are backed by corporate and political interests. One of these is the Employment Policies Institute, which claims to sponsor “nonpartisan research.” It was actually founded and run by the head of a public relations firm that represents the restaurant industry. Another dot-org, Americans for Prosperity Foundation, says it addresses major social problems through “broad-based grass roots outreach.” In reality, it was founded by the billionaire Koch brothers and many of its “grass roots” activists are paid.

There’s an even bigger risk to equating dot-org sites with do-gooders. Dozens of neo-Nazi, anti-L.G.B.T., anti-Muslim, and anti-immigrant groups bear the dot-org seal. A random sample of a hundred organizations designated as hate groups by the Southern Poverty Law Center found that 49 percent carry the dot-org domain.

Reader, beware!