The truth about neighborhood schools

It's no surprise that respondents to a recent Charlotte-Mecklenburg Schools survey say they want their kids to attend school close to home. Of the more than 27,000 people who completed the survey, 86 percent said that a school's proximity to home is very or extremely important.

As a parent, I get that.

From a purely practical sense, being able to get to my kids' school in about 10 minutes certainly simplifies my life -- particularly on the days that I'm dropping them off in the morning, then back for a lunchtime reading group, then back again in the afternoon to pick them up. And knowing that my children don't have to spend an extra hour on the bus to get home each day certainly makes them happier.

What's important to note, though, is that the question specifically asked about the value of "location/proximity to home." It did not ask about "neighborhood schools." This may sound like semantics, but it's an important distinction.

While the question is fine, how the answer gets translated causes apples-to-oranges problems. My house is exactly one mile from two different elementary schools, although technically neither one is in my neighborhood. But the idea of having a school that belongs to the neighborhood where you live -- an idea fed by continued use of the phrase "neighborhood school" by media, researchers, parents and politicians alike -- is one that parents often cling to.

The real truth is that "neighborhood schools" -- that Norman Rockwell vision of every child in a 12-block radius skipping down the sidewalk to attend school together -- don't really exist for most families anymore. Just within the few blocks closest to my house, the elementary-aged kids attend two charter schools, three private schools, three magnet schools and two base schools. Particularly as districts like Wake County offer more theme-based and magnet programs and with the cap lifted on the number of charter schools that can open across the state, parents have more choices than ever -- and they're taking advantage of those choices to find the right fit for their families.

As education innovators try to move away from outdated classroom approaches that aren't preparing students for today's world, why should we cling to this Rockwell imagery that supports old thinking?

Here are some other problems with the notion of "neighborhood schools"...

• Neighborhoods tend to be economically isolated -- that's not really news, but it does impact school demographics. In recent years, the Charlotte area was named on the top 10 list of large metros where the wealthy are most geographically segregated and Raleigh isn't dramatically better. That means that pulling a school's population from within a specific neighborhood is likely to give you only a specific economic group. That tends to create a system of low-poverty schools and high-poverty schools.
• If your high-poverty neighborhood creates a high-poverty school (those that serve more than 50 percent of students on free and reduced-price lunch), you're more likely to have higher teacher turnover rates, lower volunteer rates and lower academic scores (see here and here). In North Carolina's new letter grade system, schools' grades essentially became a proxy for poverty levels. Note that it's not a question about how successful low-income students can be -- it's an issue of how well a low-income school can function.
• Researchers have documented that students’ exposure to other students who are different from themselves and the novel ideas and challenges that such exposure brings leads to improved cognitive skills, including critical thinking and problem solving. Creating diverse schools -- racially and socioeconomically integrated -- results in benefits for students as well as the communities they live in.
• In the same CMS survey, more than 70 percent of respondents said they valued exposure to children from diverse racial, ethnic and socioeconomic backgrounds. Wanting proximity to home doesn't mean that respondents don't care about diversity. 

Now what?

Unfortunately, I don't have an easy answer, any more than I did six years ago when my son was in kindergarten or 20 years ago (gulp) when I was teaching in a predominantly black high school. But I do have a suggestion:

Stop complicating the matter by continuing to use the phrase "neighborhood schools" -- the term is loaded with more baggage than any kid can cram into a backpack and suggests an us vs. them divide that won't help any community.  (I'm looking at you, reporters, researchers, politicians and even parents.)

Instead, let's try the following:

• Talk about student assignment plans that minimize travel time from home as much as is reasonable without isolating students into neighborhoods.
• Allow educators to focus on how we can get the best academic and social learning experience for all students. 
• Engage parents, businesses and communities in the conversation about how to ensure successful graduates -- check out this Wake County event on April 29.
• Start building up our whole community rather than walling off into subdivisions.

#WeAreNotThis

In case you missed it, the Pope is on Instagram now. Pretty sure he's just copying my favorite @circuspadre, but it works. Today, for Good Friday, he posted a photo from outside the Colosseum in Rome with this caption: "Everything in these three days speaks of mercy."

If only the North Carolina General Assembly would speak with mercy this week.

Instead, their legislative voice spoke only of fear and discrimination as they went into special session on Wednesday and voted to (among other things) prohibit cities from passing nondiscrimination laws, exclude groups of citizens from protection against discrimination in North Carolina and ban transgendered people from using public bathrooms that correspond to their gender identity.

As I binged through Twitter and Facebook yesterday (see #WeAreNotThis), searching for some reasonable answer as to why my state legislature has its head up its collective ass, I found nothing to help -- although this clip from John Oliver at least made me feel less alone. Then I saw a post from my friend Mamie, who happens to be a Presbyterian minister and a generally fabulous person. Although she no longer lives in North Carolina, she's still very much a Tar Heel -- and she's still fighting for those of us who are here.

With her permission, I'm sharing her post with you here. It's a letter she's sending to the CEOs and consumer affairs divisions of NC-based companies who have not yet spoken out publicly against the ridiculous discriminatory laws passed this week.

***

As a Tarheel born and bred, I have been horrified to see the changes happening in my home state. Living now, as I do, away from North Carolina, I see the pity and concern people have for those who are “unfortunate” enough to live in a state wracked by hate and discrimination, evidenced publicly by the repugnant actions taken by the current legislature. Any doubt remaining as to their oppressive intentions were put to rest yesterday when House Bill 2 passed into law with the signature of Gov. McCrory. The law goes well beyond its name and supposed intent to monitor bathrooms around the state. It takes away local protections for LGBTQ citizens, veterans and pregnant women as well as flaunts the desire of our forebears to be free of discrimination because of religion.

You have no doubt seen the threat that Walt Disney Studios has made to leave the state of Georgia if it passes a bill not unlike HB 2, and my neighboring state of Indiana lost 12 conventions and $60 million dollars after passing their “Religious Freedom Restoration Act” -- a law much closer to that just passed by North Carolina than its name would imply. The economic growth and prosperity of the state is now under threat, as is the reputation of any company who chooses North Carolina as its home. Red Hat CEO and President Jim Whitehurst, Biogen and Dow Public Policy all spoke out against this bill on the day it was hastily introduced. American Airlines, Wells Fargo and even the NCAA are concerned about this legalized discrimination. You can join their chorus in continued pressure to change the law so that equality and fairness are not undermined in North Carolina.

You are a leader in industry in the state, and as such, I urge you to speak out in favor of diversity and justice and against the codification of fear and weakness. Being based in North Carolina, your name and balance sheet are also on the line, and any silence you choose will speak. Your ability to attract a full-range of highly qualified, critical thinking, flexible and compassionate work force will be damaged by this law, and no tax breaks are worth diminishing the humanity of others. Please make the weight of your voice heard by the legislators and the people of North Carolina.

***

Everything in these three days speaks of mercy.

Todo, en estos tres días, habla de la misericordia. 

Tutto, in questi tre giorni, parla di misericordia.

Tudo, nestes três dias, fala de misericórdia.

Au cours de ces trois jours, tout parle de miséricorde.

How do you grade a school? See for yourself.

Yesterday morning, a friend texted me following a tour of our assigned middle school. Our oldest kids are slated to go there after next school year -- she's planning ahead, visiting magnet schools as well as our base school.

Her text: "VERY impressed!"

After her visit, my friend happily talked about "the spirit" of the school and how the students were "so proud and so excited." When's the last time you saw middle schoolers excited about school? That sense of community, combined with a growing engineering program, connections with NC State and enthusiastic teachers is what won her over.

This morning, the newspaper ran a full-page listing of the letter grades assigned yesterday to all public schools in North Carolina for the first time. According to that report, this same school is a D.

So who's right?

I'm betting on the assessment made after actually going to the school, hearing from the students and talking to the teachers. That barely passing grade from the state is calculated using only last year's scores on end-of-grade reading and math tests (80%) and a small measure of student academic growth (20%) -- it doesn't come close to capturing the full picture of what students and teachers are accomplishing in the school, where more than half the population lives in poverty.

In a statement Thursday about the grades, Senator Pro Tem Phil Berger (R) basically attacked anyone questioning the validity of the labels. "We’re troubled by early knee-jerk reactions that appear to condemn poor children to automatic failure," Berger said. "And we reject the premise that high poverty schools are incapable of excelling, since today’s report shows numerous examples that are proving that myth wrong. We must give these grades a chance to work so we can learn from them and improve outcomes for our children.” (WRAL)

Berger seems to think that it's the grades that will change the schools, not leadership development, instructional supports or professional salaries for teachers. Despite Berger's allegation, no one believes that "high poverty schools are incapable" -- but decades of research and observation tell us that poverty creates challenges and obstacles to effective teaching and learning that have to be overcome. Slapping a letter grade on a school won't change that.

Rep. Craig Horn (R), chairman of the House K-12 education committee, acknowledges that the formula might need to be adjusted, but says the letter grades are easy for parents to understand. "At least A, B, C, D and F, people have a much more definitive idea of how that school is performing and will make judgments accordingly," Horn said (WRAL).

It's exactly those "judgements" that scare me.

When parents see a D or F assigned to a school, it will be easy to remove that school from the consideration set. But when parents make decisions about whether or not to send their children to a certain school based only on that letter grade, they could be missing out on a great school. That decision can quickly turn into a vicious cycle for the school, where reputation becomes reality as more parents with the means to make different choices opt out of the school.

That's not what I want for any school -- but especially not for the school my son is likely to attend in another year, a school that has worked hard to become a popular choice after spending years rumored as a school to avoid.

Even Republican Senator Jerry Tillman, sponsor of the original bill calling for performance grades, predicted that the grades "may fall along demographic lines." Then the senator, also a former public school administrator, added this surprising statement: "If that's the case, I will be pushing to see some changes. I'd rather be in a D school making great growth than in an A school where growth is stagnant. I know if these kids are growing, there has to be good teaching and good leadership for that to be occurring." (The N&O)

I don't expect to see changes to the law any time soon -- Sen. Tillman acknowledged as much, and Sen. Berger is far too pleased with the law as it stands.

What I hope, though, is that parents and community members won't judge schools by this law. I hope that they will take the time to walk into these schools and judge for themselves. Look for the good teaching and good leadership that Sen. Tillman referenced. Get a sense of the community in the school, watch how students interact with each other and with their teachers.

The feeling you have inside the school will tell you far more than any letter grade -- regardless of what that letter happens to be.

To Teachers, With Love

The 11^th grade students who were in my class during my first year as a high school English teacher are now in their mid-30s. Most of them I lost touch with after they graduated, but a handful kept up with me over the years or found me later on Facebook. A few were in college in the same program where I attended graduate school, passing me in the halls now and then. A couple are still on my Christmas card list.

Earlier this month, as I got in line to pay for my pre-snowstorm eggs and milk, I ran into one of those former students, now a mother of two and a teacher herself. We hugged each other and laughed about how we were both buying groceries in advance of the snow predictions.

“Have you met M before?” she asked, motioning to the man behind her.

“I don’t think I have,” I said, introducing myself to her husband and shaking his hand.

“No, this is S__,” she said to him, emphasizing the name they called me back in 11^th grade.

His eyes brightened with recognition and he pulled me into a bear hug. He knew who I was – and in a good way. He knew my name, 18 years after she was in my class.

That afternoon, she posted a sweet note on Facebook about our chance meeting. When I went online to “like” her post, another former student – one that I hadn’t kept up with – had already left a comment: “Wow! She was a great teacher!”

I almost printed it out and framed it for my wall.

Today, North Carolina’s governor announced a 14 percent pay increase over the next two years for beginning teachers, bringing starting teacher salaries above those of neighboring states. The plan sounds like a good start, but doesn’t offer anything for mid-career and veteran teachers already in the classroom. That may help with recruitment, but it doesn’t do much to retain or respect teachers in the trenches -- teachers who haven't had a real raise in more than five years.

Most teachers will tell you they didn’t go into the profession for the paycheck – it’s not exactly news that teaching isn’t a lucrative career (click here for the 2013-14 salary schedule in NC). But it is a profession – one that requires a college degree, licensing exams and coursework for continued certification. And it’s a job path that ought to provide a living that doesn’t include qualifying for federal aid programs to feed your children.

So while we wait for our policy makers to find the will – and the funds – to pay teachers what they’re worth, we can all show a little love to the teachers who have made a difference. You may not have the chance to run into them at the grocery store or on Facebook, but you can still thank them for all that they do.

Over the past couple weeks, teachers (and those who love them) have turned to Twitter using #evaluatethat to share the many ways – big and small – that teachers make a difference in students’ lives. The hashtag takes a swipe at the notion that standardized tests and evaluation formulas can assess a teacher’s quality and effectiveness.

Take a moment to tweet your own #evaluatethat story, write a note to your child’s teacher, or track down that educator who made a difference for you. Feeling appreciated and valued won’t help teachers pay their bills, but it sure still feels good – even 18 years later.

Choosing Kindergarten

When I was a senior in high school, I applied and was accepted to four universities. That was great – except that the only one I could afford to go to was my last choice.

Thankfully my last choice was still a very good option and it only took about two weeks on campus before I was completely on board. By the end of my freshman year, I couldn’t imagine ever going to the other three schools.

What I learned through that experience (among other things) is that college was ultimately what I made it. If I showed up ready, made an effort in my classes, talked with my professors, spent time making good friends and really invested in the school, then I was going to love it.

I feel the same way about my kids’ elementary school – and I want to say that to parents of rising kindergartners around the county as they fret over choosing the right school for their children. 

It’s time for families in Wake County to register for kindergarten, a milestone packed with emotion. And here, in addition to the angst over letting your little person spend the better part of five days a week with kids and adults you’ve never met, there’s the added stress of deciding on which school(s) to choose -- or wondering if you really even have a choice. We’re lucky here to have a lot of good options, but that creates its own challenges.

All over the district, parents are touring magnet schools, visiting their base school and weighing a host of other options both public and private -- although depending on where they live and what their circumstances are, some may have more real choices than others. A few years ago I was where they are now and I remember how worried I was about making just the right choice – a choice that was ultimately controlled by where the district had space for us.

Now that we’ve been in two different elementary schools over the past four years (through our choice, not a reassignment), I can see that we are fortunate to be in the same position I was as a high school senior. All of our options were good ones – some a better fit than others, but none of them bad. And ultimately what we – both the kids and our whole family – get out of the school is based on what we put into it.

Our children showed up prepared for school – a luxury that not every child starts with, I realize. My kids make an effort in their classes, learning to read and write, add and multiply, think and talk. They’ve made friends, in class and on the playground – and we’ve made parent friends, too, helping on field trips or waiting at school pick-up. As a family, we have invested in elementary school, not just through our donations to the PTA, but with our time and energy, through our communications with teachers, in our conversations at home with our kids.

So if you’re one of these parents in the midst of school decisions, here are a few thoughts:

• It’s okay to feel overwhelmed. This is a big deal.
• Kindergarten rocks. It’s absolutely incredible to watch those little people grow.
• Go visit all the schools you’re interested in. There’s a lot you can learn from the way a school feels when you walk through it.
• Talk with parents whose kids actually attend the school. Don’t put stock in hearsay and rumors. 
• Know that every school will have teachers you love and others who aren’t as good a fit for your child. No school is perfect, not even Hogwarts.
• Keep in mind that numbers – test scores, demographics and the rest – only tell part of the story. Don’t make assumptions.
• Remember that your attitude toward the school sets the tone for your child. 
• Trust that if you invest in your school, you’ll get a great return. 

Oh, and pack some tissues for yourself on the first day of school. It’s a doozy – but it’s worth it.

More thoughts on kindergarten and school choice:

• Redshirting in Kindergarten
• The Burden of Making Decisions 

Moral Monday: Paying for Good Schools

In my previous job, I had the good fortune to find myself often attending meetings with Dudley Flood. You can read his full bio here, but he's served in a range of education roles from 8th grade teacher to associate superintendent for the NC Department of Public Instruction, where he retired in 1990. He holds degrees in education from NC Central University, East Carolina University and Duke University. In short, he's got the credentials and the experience to know what he's talking about when it comes to education.

But beyond his resume, Dr. Flood is a great storyteller -- and he weaves a fascinating tale of what he's seen over decades of involvement in public education. One of my favorite comments that I recall hearing in his speeches goes something like this:

People always say you can't just throw money at a problem. But just once, I'd like to try it out and see what happens.

That's what I want to say to our state legislature this week, as they prepare to pass a budget that strips ever more funding away from our public schools. Actually, what I really want to say to them isn't fit to print, so I'll just start with that.

Now of course, I don't actually mean throw the money. I don't mean like a pinata where the kids scramble to stuff their pockets with loose change.

What I mean is this: What would happen if we funded public education so that:

• Teachers were paid as true professionals, particularly those with graduate degrees and extensive experience, to demonstrate the value of the job?
• Schools were built to comfortably seat all the students and provide adequate teaching space for all classes?
• Schools struggling to meet students' needs got extra assistance, including instructional coaches, literacy specialists and customized professional development for all faculty and staff?
• Classes were small enough for teachers to be able to differentiate instruction and really address students' needs, or teacher assistants staffed most classrooms to supplement instruction and help manage the workload?

I want to know what that would look like. I want my tax dollars to go toward making those things happen. I want to live in a state that makes those kind of commitments.

But instead, North Carolina gets a General Assembly that:

• Eliminates salary increases for teachers with advanced degrees starting in 2014 and teachers have only had one pay increase (a measly 1.2%) since 2008. Because why would you want to encourage and reward educators for pursuing more education? They're only teaching your children, after all.
• Argues to remove building authority from local school boards, threatening the passage of upcoming school bonds (thankfully it appears this bill is dead, although it's had more lives than a cat).
• Funds a $10 million voucher program (in the first year) to give some families "a way out" to leave for private schools without addressing any of the problems or challenges facing students and teachers in the public schools left behind.
• Removes caps on class sizes and eliminates teacher assistants in 2nd and 3rd grades. If you've ever been the only adult in a room with 30 seven-year-olds for more than an hour, you know this is a bad idea.

It may be true that throwing money around won't fix anything. But depriving schools of the basics needed to get the job done sure as hell doesn't solve anything either.

Instead, targeting money at real solutions could make a world of difference: Ensuring teachers earn enough money that their children don't qualify for medicaid, constructing facilities that get students out of trailers and into well-equipped classrooms, coaching schools in research-based practices to make them more effective at reaching every child, creating environments that encourage learning and generate productive working conditions.

That's not throwing money around -- that's called investing.

Moral Monday: Safe Schools

I wasn't at yesterday's Moral Monday rally. But that doesn't mean I'm not outraged. Unfortunately, much of what I'm worked up about won't fit on a protest sign. Starting this week, I'm going to attempt a Monday post in solidarity with those protesting at the NC legislature -- I realize it's not the same as getting arrested for the cause, but at least it's something.

So much in education policy seems to fall according to political lines. Democrats want more funding; Republicans want more competition. Democrats claim schools are doing well; Republicans claim schools are failing. Democrats want to believe that the latest big idea will save public schools; Republicans want to close them all down.

Okay, that's a wild exaggeration. But you get the idea.

The sad thing is that I honestly believe most Republicans and Democrats -- and the Independents and unaffiliated -- want the same big-picture things when it comes to public education. Safe schools. Quality instruction. Graduates with marketable skills.

Of course, the devil is in the details.

When I hear my state legislature talk about placing armed security guards in schools at the same time they want to cut teacher assistant positions from the budget and increase class sizes, I know they've completely missed the point. You simply can't cut teacher and teacher assistant positions and claim to want safe schools.

For a moment, let's forget about the academic, social or emotional reasons why you might want your young child to be in a elementary classroom with, say, 20 classmates, a licensed teacher and a licensed teacher assistant -- forget about the opportunities for enrichment or additional support. And forget about the professional reasons why you might want a teacher to have working conditions that don't include managing, say, 28 six-year-olds without any additional staff.

For a moment, let's just think about this in terms of security. Having more teachers in the classroom helps keep children safe.

In catastrophic situations, teacher assistants make it possible to protect more children. Think back to some of the horrific school tragedies of the past year in places like Newtown, Connecticut, or Moore, Oklahoma, where teachers, counselors and administrators risked their own lives to protect the children in their schools.

One of the recurring thoughts for me as I read all the stories of heroism shining out on those unspeakably dark days is, "How do you decide?" If you're the teacher in those classrooms, how do you decide which kids you can hold onto in the storm or which ones you can hide in the closet while the school is in lockdown.

Extreme? Sure, and thankfully so. But it's still our reality.

Even under more ordinary circumstances -- ones where students are misbehaving, bullying or (in today's softer parenting language) simply "making bad choices" -- teacher assistants make a difference for security. It can be challenging for teachers to ensure that all students feel safe when it's a large class and there's no teacher assistant.

Another professional adult who also knows the students well -- not just a parent volunteer (as great as they can be) -- makes it possible for one teacher to address the threat while the other adult continues to lead the class. Anytime you can have another set of eyes, ears and hands in the classroom, every child is safer.

So here's my proposal for the Republican-led legislature and Governor's office as they hash out this proposed budget... Remember all that talk about wanting to ensure that our schools are safe places to learn? How about you connect that rhetoric with your speeches about job creation and start by finding funds to hire even more teacher assistants to help staff North Carolina's classrooms.

On School Buildings and Why You Should Care

Powerful teaching and learning.

That's what I want my children to experience at school. That's what I want all children and teachers to experience at school. That's what I want the school board to focus on.

So if what I want is a Board of Education talking about powerful teaching and learning, then why do I care if my local school board retains control of school buildings? Because school facilities cannot be separated from academics -- an adequate and appropriate learning environment is a critical element of student success.

Senate Bill 236, sponsored by Sens. Neal Hunt (Wake), Tom Apodaca (Henderson) and Pete Brunstetter (Forsyth), would give county commissioners the authority to assume responsibility for the design, construction, maintenance, renovation, acquisition and ownership of school properties. Currently in North Carolina's 100 counties, the county board of commissioners provides the funding for school property purchases and construction (because they possess taxing authority and the school board does not), but the county board of education is responsible for the design, construction and ownership of school facilities. This divide, sometimes awkward and often contentious, is unusual -- more than 90 percent of school districts in the nation have fiscal independence (meaning they have taxing authority to fund their own budget).

The proposed legislation would allow all North Carolina county commissions to seize property currently owned by school boards --some county commissions might take advantage of that option now (as appears to be the case in Wake County), while others could decline for now and exercise the right at any point in the future.

I'm writing from the perspective of a Wake County resident (the bill started in the fight between the school board and the county commission in Wake), but this proposed legislation makes it an issue for the entire state. Here's why this bill is a bad idea:

• School buildings are about education, not real estate. Numerous studies have demonstrated the link between student achievement/behavior and the physical building conditions for students and teachers. Everything from lighting and paint to ventilation and HVAC impacts student success in a school. Think that sounds crazy? Imagine how effective you'd be at work if your office roof leaked onto your desk, your work space was too cramped to be functional, the heat stopped working and you had no access to natural light all day. Each student will spend more than 16,000 hours in these buildings before graduation -- teachers and principals will spend many more than that over their careers. They deserve dynamic spaces that encourage growth, creativity and intellect, not another obstacle to success.
• Education decisions aren't business decisions. Sen. Hunt likes to argue that business people do a better job of managing real estate decisions than educators do -- and he has some lovely (but misleading) pie charts to show his analysis of the level of business experience on county commissions versus school boards. But schools are in the business of educating children, not making profits and paying shareholders. School boards must be fiscally responsible, but student achievement should be their bottom line. I don't want the cheapest school possible; I want the best educational environment for my money. Even the Greater Raleigh Chamber of Commerce -- an entire organization of business people -- is opposed to this bill. And because county commissions already control the purse strings in North Carolina, they don't need this bill to manage the money.
• Experience matters. The Wake County Public School System (WCPSS) is an award-winning district when it comes to building design -- including nods from the American Institute of Architects (AIA) and the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA). Decades of experience inform the school board policy that defines design guidelines for school construction to ensure an effective learning environment, including everything from windows in classrooms to the size of science labs. School boards -- the elected officials closest to the classroom -- are in the best position to understand the complex requirements for a successful school. The county commissioners do not have a similarly strong track record with large building projects on this scale.
• The user, not the owner assumes liability. There are unanswered questions in the proposed legislation around liability issues. The county commission wants the option to assume ownership, but they do not appear eager to assume any liability related to the buildings or the property. Because of the vagueness of the bill (whether intentional or not), school boards would still be liable for incidents on school property. In other words, school boards would be surrendering their expertise in design decisions as well as their power to impose risk management strategies during the design and construction processes, but still be held accountable for injuries sustained on school grounds. Not only is this bad policy, this uncertainly could result in poor bond ratings for the entire system (poor bond ratings make construction more expensive).
• Checks and balances lead to better decisions. Leaving funding authority with the county commission maintains their control over taxing and bond decisions. Leaving design, construction and maintenance responsibilities with the school board maintains their control over the connection between school facilities and academic factors, student assignment, overcrowding, feeder patterns between grade levels and infrastructure needs to support teachers and students. Neither group holds all the power, resulting in a level of accountability that would disappear under the proposed legislation.
• Politics are contentious enough. Given the division of authority between the school board and the county commission, there's already plenty for them to argue over in budget and bond decisions. This bill does nothing to solve the current challenges and actually makes them worse by removing those responsible for the schools from the process of creating them. In Davie County, just southwest of Winston-Salem, the school district can't get county commissioners to agree to fund the building of a second high school or renovations to the existing high school despite the fact that an independent analysis by the state (and any parent walking into the building) identified a desperate need (more on this from the W-S Journal and a Davie County blogger). 
• Sales tax exemption isn't a good reason. Sen. Hunt argues that school boards pay more for construction because they have to pay sales tax on purchases, while county commissions are exempt. However, until 2005, local boards of education were able to use tax refunds. Many other groups, including cities, counties, public universities, private schools and other non-profits, can apply for a sales tax refund or exemption. If Sen. Hunt really wants to propose a useful bill for education facilities, he and the state legislature could eliminate this change and make local education authorities tax-exempt again.

There is one thing that Sen. Hunt and I agree on: school boards need to be able to focus on education. Unfortunately, he and Senate Bill 236 will cripple their ability to do just that.

Special thanks to Jennifer Brock, a Raleigh-based architect with years of experience in school design and mother of four WCPSS students, for her professional advising on this post.

If you'd like to write to your legislators on this issue, visit Wake Classrooms Count (if you're a Wake County resident) or search for your people here. Or use this list to email the members of the Senate Education Committee: Dan.Soucek@ncleg.net, Jerry.Tillman@ncleg.net, Chad.Barefoot@ncleg.net, Austin.Allran@ncleg.net, Tom.Apodaca@ncleg.net, Tamara.Barringer@ncleg.net, Harry.Brown@ncleg.net, Angela.Bryant@ncleg.net, Bill.Cook@ncleg.net, David.Curtis@ncleg.net, Warren.Daniel@ncleg.net, Don.Davis@ncleg.net, Malcolm.Graham@ncleg.net, Fletcher.Hartsell@ncleg.net, Clark.Jenkins@ncleg.net, Martin.Nesbitt@ncleg.net, Buck.Newton@ncleg.net, Earline.Parmon@ncleg.net, Louis.Pate@ncleg.net, Ron.Rabin@ncleg.net, Gladys.Robinson@ncleg.net, Bob.Rucho@ncleg.net, Josh.Stein@ncleg.net, Jeff.Tarte@ncleg.net, Trudy.Wade@ncleg.net, Mike.Woodard@ncleg.net

Vacancy: Leadership of the Wake County Public School System

I keep peeking out my window for a glimpse of the airborne porcine wonder.

Because any day when I find myself agreeing with Paul Coble and John Tedesco is a day when pigs are flying, hell is freezing over and the end must be fast approaching.

This afternoon the Wake County Board of Education voted to remove Superintendent Tony Tata. I'll be the first to admit that I was skeptical (to put it politely) about him when he was hired. With only four months of education experience in the Washington, D.C., school system, the retired army general was one of those Outsiders Who Can Fix Public Education. As a former teacher, I generally bristle at the notion that someone with little or no education experience is somehow more qualified to run one of the nation's largest school districts.

But my sense of Superintendent Tata -- and what I believe the majority of the general public sees -- is a man who has (for the most part) kept a calm, professional face on what has been a ridiculously crazy school system. Since he was hired, he has followed the direction of the Board of Education, calmed some of the initial chaos with the old board, continued to work with the new board when they were elected (minus an embarrassing name-calling issue with a few members that showed poor judgement but for which he publicly apologized) and generally embraced the idea of innovation to move the district forward. I don't necessarily love Tony Tata, but I have no reason to hate him.

When the district was mired in a school bus disaster at the beginning of this year, Tata stood up, took responsibility and started working on a solution. He might not have made everyone happy, but I haven't seen grounds for immediate dismissal. I've heard rumors that he has bullied principals and undermined school board members, but none of that hearsay has been confirmed by any credible sources. (And if I learned one thing in journalism school, it's verify -- if your mother says she loves you, check it out.) I've heard just as many stories about parents commending him for his responsiveness.

The school board members who voted Tata out of a job today are the ones that I voted and campaigned for. I want to believe that they know things -- real, substantial, documented, horrible things -- that I don't know. I want to defend the district and the board and encourage people to believe that our school system is making decisions that benefit all students. I want to trust that all of this chaos is heading toward the right solution.

But from where I sit, it's really hard to imagine what's worth a $253,625 buy-out and yet another massive distraction from what the board should actually be talking about: teaching and learning.

Our kids deserve better. Our teachers and principals deserve better. Our community deserves better.

Instead of focusing on student achievement, teaching quality and what's going inside our county's classrooms, I'm thinking about who is going to fill the void. Who in the hell is out there with an ego big enough to want the job of Wake County Superintendent or an ego small enough to actually be able to handle it?

Wanted: An Impossibly Perfect Student Assignment Plan

What's even more elusive than the Holy Grail, Big Foot and my abdominal muscles that never quite recovered from two c-sections?

A student assignment plan for Wake County that will make everyone happy all of the time.

This is not news. For those of you who are regular readers -- or who get trapped into conversations with me around town -- you've heard me soapbox about this before.

The problem is that so many things sound like good ideas in theory -- attending a school close to your house, having guaranteed feeder patterns to keep kids together from elementary through high school, getting to rank school choices based on your own preference, opening new schools with volunteers instead of reassigning students -- but they don't always work so well in practice.

What if the school closest to your house is horribly overcrowded? What if the guaranteed feeder patterns tracks your child to a high school you don't like? What if you don't like any of the choices available to you? What if no one picks the new school and it goes unused?

And then the real kicker for members of the school board is that (again, in theory) they can't just think about what's best for one or two kids -- they have to make decisions based on what's best for all kids and for the county as a whole (assuming, of course, that they're concerned about such things, which they probably are).

Last month, at a meeting that lasted into the wee hours of the morning, the Wake County Board of Education once again attempted to change course for how the district assigns its 150,000 students to the 165 schools across the county. In a move that may or may not have seemed like a political ambush, depending on your stance, the board majority (who happen to be Democrats on the non-partisan board) voted -- over the strenuous objections of the (Republican) minority that had made its own hostile and aggressive moves a couple years earlier -- to direct school system staff to develop a new plan.

For those of you who've lost track, that would be a new plan for 2013-14 to replace the plan that was new for 2012-13.

Ugh.

It's possible that the "new new" plan might just be a blend of the "old" plan and the "old new" plan or maybe a tweak of the "old new" plan -- I want to believe they're just trying to correct some of the bigger challenges instead of throwing the latest baby out with the bath water.

But even though I'm not a huge fan of the new plan -- a lack of base assignment tied to your address seems unsustainable and the lack of attention to diversity seems fiscally (if not socially) irresponsible -- I'm even less a fan of having a complete overhaul every two years following a school board election. And at the rate things are going, it's looking like we could be trapped in a two-year pendulum swing, with voters (and parents) continually frustrated on one end or the other.

I wish I had a solution -- or a magic wand -- but I don't. All I've got are some suggestions:

1. To parents: Remember that the very element of the plan you love most might be the same piece that ruined another family's year. This stuff is complicated at best and impossible at worst, but no one on the school board or in central office is purposefully trying to mess with your family.
2. To the district staff: If you're going to tie addresses to a base assignment, please do a thorough review of the existing node system first. When a one-block street with only 16 houses on it is split between two nodes with different school options, there's a problem.
3. To the school board: Quit being Democrats and Republicans and start being representatives for public education that makes good sense. Be socially and fiscally responsible about implementing a plan that sets schools up for success and uses facilities wisely.
4. To the students: Work hard and be nice to your teachers. While the school you attend can certainly make your life more (or less) challenging, it doesn't have to determine the results you get from your education.

Why You Should Vote Against Amendment One (Even If You're a Christian Republican)

It's time to make me proud, North Carolina. Time to stand up and show the rest of the country -- and the world -- that we're not afraid to vote down a constitutional amendment that does nothing to protect the citizens of this great state. In case you haven't seen it yet, here's the exact wording of the amendment as it appears on the ballot:

Constitutional amendment to provide that marriage between one man and one woman is the only domestic legal union that shall be valid or recognized in this State.

You already know about I feel about this issue -- nothing about same-sex relationships threatens my marriage with my husband. Our wedding vows face a much greater danger from early-rising children and quality television programming.

But perhaps, with all the campaign rhetoric and general election babble, you haven't been able to discern your own opinion on the matter. Lucky for you, I'm here to help.

Here's a checklist to help you know if it's okay for you to VOTE NO on Amendment One. If ANY of the following statements (some of which are mutually exclusive) apply to you, then you should VOTE NO on Tuesday:

• "I believe that marriage should only be legal between one man and one woman -- and I'm glad North Carolina already has an effective law on the books defining marriage that way."
• "I believe that constitutional amendments should be about protecting the rights of law-abiding citizens, not taking them away."
• "I'm opposed to same-sex marriage, but I don't want to take away the option for opposite-sex couples to access the legal benefits of a domestic partnership without getting married."
• "I have a strong religious faith and I firmly believe that Jesus teaches us to be compassionate and kind to all our brothers -- not just some of them."
• "I'm concerned that family law professors from across the state, including the Wake Forest University School of Law, are actively opposed to Amendment One. They worry that the vague and broad language of the amendment, at a minimum, creates dangerous uncertainty into issues of family benefits and protections."
• "When House Speaker Thom Tillis, a primary proponent of Amendment One, says publicly that he believes the amendment will be repealed in 20 years, it sounds like a big waste of time and lots of money. Let's just skip the middle man and vote no."
• "I'm a Republican and generally agree with the politics of people like U.S. Rep. Renee Ellmers, John Hood (president of the John Locke Foundation) and Richard Vinroot, all of whom are opposed to Amendment One."
• "I'm concerned about North Carolina's economy and want to be sure that businesses see our community as a great place to be. If the CEO of Duke Energy thinks that Amendment One will discourage new business from coming to NC, then I'm opposed to it, too."
• "I'm a Democrat and generally agree with the politics of people like Bill Clinton, who is opposed to Amendment One."
• "I think government should be small and should not encroach upon private, personal matters. Marriage should be left to the church, not state government."
• "I believe in the separation of church and state. My church does not recognize same-sex marriage, but it's not something that need to involve the state constitution."
• "I think marriage is seriously hard work -- it's not something that anyone should enter into lightly. If you've got two loving, caring adults who want to commit to spending their lives together, contributing to their community, maybe raising a family, then who am I to stand in their way?"
• "I love Broadway theatre -- especially the smash hit Wicked. If those people are opposed to Amendment One, then so am I!"
• "I don't think gay people are scary. In fact, some of my best friends are gay -- and their weddings were fabulous!"

Okay, so I'm getting a little punchy and tired now, but you get the idea. 

It's time to do the right thing, North Carolina. Vote AGAINST Amendment One on May 8.

Redshirting in Kindergarten

High on my long list of worries as a mom was when to let Junius start kindergarten.

When he was born in early July, North Carolina's kindergarten cut-off date was in mid-October -- no reason for worry. But a couple years later, the state shifted the line to the end of August. Suddenly my summer baby was on track to be among the youngest kids in his class.

During his two-year-old preschool class, I met several moms who were already planning on holding their sons (and it's almost always sons) for an extra year of preschool because their birthdays were in (...wait for it...) APRIL. Under that plan, if Junius started school on time, he'd be 15 months younger than those kids in his class.

Ugh.

A year later, we moved and nearly all of Junius' friends -- even those with August birthdays -- started school on time. He was ready to go to kindergarten, and his preschool teacher confirmed that there was no reason to hold him back. Now as a fourth-quarter first-grader, he's doing fine, both socially and academically.

I'm not the first parent to wrestle with when to start my child in kindergarten -- and I certainly won't be the last. This article in the LA Times or this piece from a March episode of 60 Minutes show what a widespread issue redshirting has become. For some families, in the words of the 60 Minutes producer, deciding when to start your child in kindergarten feels like a bigger decisions than selecting a college.

So here's my caveat before I climb on my soapbox (you knew the soapbox was coming out, right?): All parents have to make decisions based on what is best for their family and for their children. Period. I fully recognize that the criteria I use for making those decisions may not apply in the same way for your family.

And now for the soapbox: Redshirting feels like an arms race. You have a child with an August birthday and you don't want him to be the youngest kid there, so you hold him back a year and he's 13 months older than his youngest classmate. So another mom gets nervous about that and she holds back her July baby and so her friend holds back his June baby and before you know it there's an 18-month age spread in one class.

Fast-forward a few months into kindergarten -- the kid who started at age 5 is just learning to read, while his classmate who started at age 6 1/2 is bored with early readers. Now the teacher in that classroom has to differentiate instruction across an even wider spectrum, making an already tough job even more challenging.

Redshirting is also an arms race in which only those with the luxury of child care can afford to participate. Holding your child out of public school for an extra year means that you can afford to stay home with that child or put that child in a private preschool or daycare.

The research on whether there's a real and lasting impact from school-start age is split. But I question how any study that examines the results for students who start on time versus those who start late can separate out other factors like family income, parent education levels and the like -- because if low-income families (which often corresponds with lower parent education levels) can't afford to redshirt their kids, then there's no way know what differences are caused by redshirting and what is simply the result of having parents with the resources to give a child every possible advantage.

The bottom line? Unless your child has a true disability -- like a physical impairment, cognitive disability or emotional delay -- then the cut-off date applies to you and you should abide by it. The date is arbitrary and it varies by state, but it's there for a reason. Worrying that your child might be smaller than the other kids in his class or might not be the fastest reader in her class are not legitimate reasons for holding them back. Kindergarten is all about growth -- while they're in school, they'll get taller, they'll learn, they'll develop, right along with their classmates.

And if you want to avoid the issue altogether, invest in some serious family planning to ensure that your baby is born in January.

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Okay, I'm off the soapbox now and bracing myself for the hate mail. What about you? Have you faced this issue with your kids? Or were you the youngest or oldest in your class growing up? Leave a comment to let us know your thoughts.

Marital Threats and How You Can Help

Somehow, I just can't believe that 76-year-old Lennie and 87-year-old Pearl are a threat to my "traditional" marriage.

And yet, conservative politicians, religious leaders and other groups keep trying to convince me that allowing homosexuals to get married threatens the very foundations of the institution of marriage.

Yeah, right.

I'm here to tell you that what threatens my marriage is not the notion that my across-the-street neighbor might one day want to marry his adorable boyfriend, or that my friend a few streets over is planning to have a baby with her girlfriend. And I definitely do not see a clear and present danger in two septuagenarian/octogenarian women who have loved each other faithfully for 45 years while making great contributions to their community and generally being nice people.

If you really must know, here are a few things that are an actual threat to the health of my one-man-one-woman, walked-down-the-aisle, have-a-license-to-prove-it marriage:

1. My children get up absurdly early. Every. Single. Day. My son is up AND DRESSED no later than 6 a.m. Even on Saturdays -- okay, he's still in his pajamas on the weekend, but he's up nonetheless. My daughter, convinced she might miss out on something fun, is up with him at the same time. And they expect to be entertained. Otherwise they start whining and annoying each other.
2. My husband has his own opinions and ideas. I mean, I thought he was just going to agree with me. Who knew he'd have his own vision about decorating the house, planning vacations or scheduling our weekends. Now we have to work together and compromise to get things done -- this means disagreeing sometimes, even arguing or fighting occasionally. After 10 years, there are no deal breakers, but it still takes work.
3. Babysitters can be expensive. In order for us to spend time together without our kids to nurture our relationship, we have to hire a babysitter. Then we have to go somewhere, which means spending more money. Without even doing anything fancy, we can easily spend $100 on a evening out. It might actually be cheaper to go to a marriage counselor who offered childcare in the waiting room than to plan a date night.
4. Social media is a time suck. After the kids go to bed, when we should probably be engaged in quality conversation together, we both tumble down the rabbit hole of Twitter, blogging, Words with Friends, Angry Birds, Pinterest, Gentlemint and a hundred other online traps. Not that there's anything wrong with reading blogs (ahem), but it does keep our focus off of each other.
5. Downton Abbey and Mad Men are too good. Again with the night-time distractions. But seriously -- how can we focus on each other when there's Lady Mary and Don Draper to worry about? Plus there's Modern Family and 30 Rock when we need a laugh, or Psych and White Collar when we want some investigating, or Portlandia when it's time for something random and hilarious. That TiVo box is seriously hazardous to our marital health.
6. The house is not self-cleaning. Even if we manage to turn off the TV and other electronics, there's still the laundry to fold, the dishes to wash, the grass to mow, the bathrooms to clean, the dinner to cook, the lunches to make, the bills to pay, the groceries to buy, the appointments to schedule. It would take six adults running this house in order to free up enough time for us to really stop and just be with each other. Again, Downton Abbey seems like a good idea.

So if you're really serious about wanting to protect North Carolina families and preserve healthy marriages across the state, you have a few options:

a. You can volunteer to babysit my children for the weekend free of charge.
b. You can donate time or money to an organization like Protect NC Families, the Equality NC Foundation, Race to the Ballot or We Are NC -- or attend the Love Wins dance this weekend in Durham.
c. You can make sure you're registered to vote NO on May 8.
d. All of the above.

Just let me know when you're ready to schedule that babysitting weekend.

School Labels

This week I sent my son off to first grade at a Failing School. And I'm not alone -- of the 163 schools in my district, 141 of them are Failing Schools.

At least, that's the designation according to the federal No Child Left Behind Act.

Of course, I've actually been in my son's school, met his teachers, talked with his principal, seen what the kids are up to. I know that it's not a Failing School.

His school is the place where he learned to read, add and subtract last year. It's the place where he made new friends and played with old ones. It's the place where  teachers and administrators worked hard to teach all students and help them succeed. It's the place where parents and grandparents volunteered their time and money to make a difference. It's the place where Junius was excited to come back and start first grade.

But because his school missed the mark with six subgroups of students out of the 23 they're required to report, his lovely school is labeled a Failing School. And because it's the second year in a row that the school has been labeled in this way (last year they met 22 of 23 goals), they are required to offer families the option of transferring to another (specified) school in the district.

And this brings me to my concern about No Child Left Behind. I realize I'm not the first (or last) person to write any of this, but it feels really personal now that it's my school. While I don't dismiss the value of assessing student progress and holding schools accountable (because, honestly, is anyone arguing that we SHOULD be leaving some children behind?), I think it is dangerous to use this all-or-nothing approach.

For those of you not familiar with AYP (Adequate Yearly Progress) and NCLB, here's a quick primer of how it works in elementary schools:

• Every student in grades 3-5 takes two end-of-year standardized tests, one in reading and one in math.
• The school is responsible for reporting test scores for each of the following groups that has at least 40 students in it across the tested grades: white, black, Hispanic, Native American, Asian, multiracial, economically disadvantaged (measured as students who receive free and reduced-price lunch), limited English proficient (meaning English isn't their first language) and students with disabilities (also known as special ed). 
• Using these measures, most schools have several subgroups (plus their scores for the school as a whole), but not all 10.
• Counting each subgroup twice (once for reading and once for math) plus the school as a whole and a few of other measures under consideration, the elementary schools in my district have as few as seven and as many as 33 subgroups. The more diverse a school is, the more categories it's responsible for meeting (and thus, the more challenging it is to make the goal).
• If just one student group in one subject (math or reading) at a school does not meet the targeted proficiency goal, then the school is labeled a Failing School. That means that, depending on the target goal, it's possible for the test scores of 10 children in a school of 600 could determine whether a school is considered a failure.

When the general public hears "Failing School," they're not picturing my school. But if you're a new parent to the district or the school and you see that label on my school, wouldn't you be looking for another place to send your kids? And that would be a real shame because you'd be missing out on a great school.

On a happier note, take a minute to look back at Junius heading off for his first day of kindergarten last year. Same backpack, but a smaller boy. Man, he's growing up fast!
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Compete Globally, Challenge Locally

Looking back at my years in school, I can point to three programs that had the greatest impact, both on my education and on who I've turned out to be: North Carolina Governor's School, North Carolina Teaching Fellows and study abroad.

Now, thanks to severe budget cuts by the state legislature, two of those opportunities have been eliminated for future students. Teaching Fellows currently in the program will still receive support through graduation, but no new students will be admitted. And with help from donations by alumni and friends, the Governor's School Foundation hopes to find a way to continue -- but even raising more than $100,000 over a few weeks is no guarantee for survival.

So why should you care? Governor's School is just for nerdy smart kids who will do fine in school regardless, right? And plenty of people want to be teachers, so there's no need for a recruitment program, right?

Wrong.

For nearly 50 years, the North Carolina Governor's School has offered incredible enrichment programs for some of our state's most talented and intelligent students, many of whom come from small, rural school districts without the resources to provide similar challenges at home. While it may be tempting to dismiss these opportunities as extras for kids bound to succeed, national studies estimate that between 18 and 25 percent of gifted and talented students actually drop out of school.

More than 100 programs in 28 states have been modeled after North Carolina Governor's School -- a testament to the program's value. Participants demonstrate significant gains in cognitive growth, moral development and global thinking. For me, it was a life-changing experience in so many ways.

Similarly, the North Carolina Teaching Fellows Program has, for more than 25 years, recruited "the best and the brightest" into our state's public school classrooms. The average profile of a Teaching Fellow includes an SAT score over 1100, a high school GPA of 4.0 or more on a weighted scale, and a rank in the top 10% of his/her high school graduating class. Many of them might not go into teaching -- or even be able to afford to go to college -- without the Teaching Fellows program.

Not all of us (myself included) stayed as classroom teachers, but everyone I know who completed the program has become an advocate for public schools in one way or another. Our students and schools as well as our communities and state are enriched by the graduates of this program.

At a time when many bemoan the fact that the U.S. lags behind other nations in academic achievements, it is shortsighted (at best) to eliminate programs that help our students and state remain globally competitive. If we're not supporting our most talented students or encouraging our most promising future teachers, then how do we expect to cultivate the next generation of geniuses for our country?

NOTE: If you'd like to make a gift to the Governor's School Foundation, visit their website and help them reach $200,000 by August 1.

Can I Have My School Assignment Plan in Turquoise, Please?

If you're starting to think that I spend a lot of time soapboxing blathering on and on writing about our public schools, you're probably right (just click the "school" or "politics" or "soapbox" labels from the cloud on the left to see them all). But there's a lot going on here to write about -- and sometimes (like this week) I get requests from friends (yes, plural) to share thoughts on these issues.

So brace yourself -- Dr. Convertible Life is about to step up to the podium again. Just remember that some of you asked for it. The rest of you can just re-read yesterday's post and have a good cry. 

Here's my short answer to questions about the two proposed student assignment plans put forth by the Wake County Public School System:

1. If you like the school you get assigned to and/or if your child has a good experience there, you'll love whichever plan gets picked.
2. If you don't like the school you get assigned to and/or if your child has a bad experience there, you'll hate whichever plan gets picked.
3. Either way, there's no perfect solution that will make everyone happy and you're guaranteed to piss off at least one loud group of people (if not more).

The whole thing makes me wonder why anyone would ever want to be a school superintendent or run for school board. Delusions of grandeur? An intense love of hate mail? A desperate need to be on public-access television?

Anyway, here's my longer answer, in case you're looking for more:

• Both plans offer a grandfathering option -- if you're already in school and you like it there, you can stay and any younger siblings can come, too. The WCPSS website adds that they'll continue to provide the same transportation as well, which sounds like it could get complicated and expensive, depending on the choices people make. (See #1 above.)
• The Blue Plan appears to offer a lot of choices for parents in selecting an elementary school, but you would no longer have a base school assignment. For real estate agents and homebuilders, that's going to be tricky at best -- there's no promise that links a certain address to a certain school. If you move into a neighborhood after everyone else has already picked their schools and the two closest schools are overcrowded, you will get bumped to a school that is farther away in order to find an available seat.
• Having all those choices with the Blue Plan is only nice if a) you like the schools on your list and b) the district assigns you to your top choice. Even with a "choice plan," the district still holds the final say in your school assignment. There's no such thing as a total choice plan because, at some point, schools get full and they'll have to send kids somewhere else. If you don't like all the choices available to you, does it still feel like a choice? (See #2 above.)
• They're suggesting that 90 percent of people will get their first or second choice with this plan. That might be true, but it still only works if a) you like the first two schools on your list and b) you're not in the other 10 percent. (See #3 above.)
• Priority placements under this plan will first be given to siblings of current students and then to students who live closest to the school. That means that if there are lots of families with lots of siblings living within 1.5 miles of a school and you live 2 miles away, that school will probably be full before they get to your name. (See #1-3 above... you get the idea.)
• As new schools are opened, they will be filled by choice only under the Blue Plan. No students will be reassigned from an existing school to a new school. It's hard for me to imagine how this will work (like what if only 12 2nd-graders choose that school -- will they be able to hire a 2nd-grade teacher for only 12 kids?), but presumably there would be enough people who want to be at a shiny new school that is perhaps closer to their house than whatever school they were attending.
• The Green Plan retains the base assignment, which includes a year-round and a traditional calendar option, and is essentially a tweak of the current assignment plan. It uses the existing node system, which is complicated and illogical at times (like when the node line dividing two schools goes down the side of my yard and bi-sects my one-block street).
• If your base school is a year-round school and you prefer a traditional calendar school, you are guaranteed a spot in your traditional calendar option with the Green Plan. That option, however, is determined by the district and may or may not be close to home.
• Families will still have a list of magnet options to consider and could apply for those schools through the magnet lottery. In some ways, the magnet options in the Green Plan give you just as many choices (if not more) than in the Blue Plan.
• While both plans mention a strategy for ensuring that no school is overwhelmed by low-performing students, the Green Plan identifies more specifically how students from low-performing areas will be placed in high-performing schools.
• No student will be reassigned more than once in any given grade span (K-5, 6-8 or 9-12) under this plan. Some reassignments may be necessary to fill new schools or relieve overcrowding, but current students and siblings could still grandfather in to stay at their existing school.

So I think what it all comes down to is this:

1. If you're already in a school and you like it there, nothing changes. You are free to form an opinion about which plan is best for the county as a whole without worrying about what it will mean for your child's personal school assignment.
2. If you are comfortable without a seat in a guaranteed base school, then you'll probably like having the "choices" offered in the Blue Plan.
3. If you would rather know that your house (and maybe your street or your neighborhood) is assigned to a specific school, then you're probably more comfortable with the "stability" offered in the Green Plan.
4. Regardless of which plan gets chosen, you'll still have kids within a neighborhood (or even within a single block) going to different traditional calendar, year-round, magnet, charter, parochial and private schools.

And now here's the real bottom line:

I don't have an answer about which plan is best.

We've had a good school year at our year-round base assignment. The schedule suits us well and Junius has learned a lot. We've invested time, energy and money in our school and its PTA, knowing that commitment from parents makes a difference for Juni and all his classmates.

I had hoped for a magnet school -- one that offered languages and extra arts classes -- but we weren't selected and I hate that he's missing all those extras. Junius attends school with one of his best friends, but not with lots of other kids from our neighborhood who get to walk to school together. If we lived in the house next door, we'd be walking to that (magnet) school instead. And even though we've had a good year, I'm still annoyed about that.

The irony of it all for me is that nothing changes for my address in either plan. Regardless of what the board decides, I would still have the same menu of "choices" available as I have right now. The difference is only whether I can request schools through ranking my options or applying to the magnet lottery, but the results are the same.

I find this fact both disappointing and comforting. The former because it seems like the whole assignment debate is all sound and fury, signifying nothing; the latter because at least I'm not bracing for personal change.

What would really solve this whole question? Living in neighborhoods that are racially and socio-economically diverse and ensuring that every single school in the entire county is a great place to teach and learn. But no student assignment plan can accomplish that task.

Map image from WCPSS.

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Saving Money, Destroying Success

First Governor's School, now Teaching Fellows.

If I didn't know better, I might worry I'm the jinx that's causing these nationally-recognized education programs to land on the state's fiscal chopping block.

But it's not me. It's the North Carolina legislature and a penny-wise-pound-foolish approach to crafting the budget. In addition to plans to cut funding for teacher assistants, virtual school programs and pre-k programs (among others), there's now a Senate proposal to eliminate Teaching Fellows.

The North Carolina Teaching Fellows Program, established by the General Assembly in 1986, is billed as "the most ambitious teacher recruitment program in the nation." The idea was to recruit talented high school students and provide them with additional supports (both financial and experiential) as education majors so that they would be better prepared for teaching and thus more likely to stay (and be successful) in North Carolina classrooms.

Currently, the program pays an annual scholarship of $6,500 for four years, bringing in 500 future teachers at 17 North Carolina campuses each year. Students who choose not to teach in NC public schools after graduation repay the funds as a student loan. The program has been copied by other states and a recent study of teacher effectiveness found Teaching Fellow graduates are among the most effective teachers in the state.

When I attended UNC Chapel Hill as a Teaching Fellow from 1991-1995, the program essentially paid for my four years of college plus small stipends for summer programs in exchange for four years of teaching in Charlotte after graduation. In addition to the scholarship funds, the program offered four years of special seminars in education, hands-on internships in area schools, targeted summer learning opportunities across the state (and the globe), plus a cohort of bright classmates who became like family during college and my years as a teacher.

It was a big decision as a 12th-grade student to commit to a university, a major and a job before I even had my high school diploma in hand -- but in many ways, that single decision charted the path of my entire career.

There are some who might argue that I'm a perfect example of how the program has failed. I completed my degree in education, taught for four years (which "paid back" the scholarship), then left for graduate school and never returned to classroom teaching.

But I believe just the opposite -- being a North Carolina Teaching Fellow got me into the classroom for four unforgettable years. Without that scholarship, I might never have gone into teaching. And the program's influence on me -- and hopefully my influence on public education in this state -- didn't end when I left the classroom.

Since my career as a high school English teacher, I've continued to work in public education for more than a decade -- first at the county level and now at the state level in professional advocacy, research and communications roles. I've worked with teachers, principals, parents and business leaders in their efforts to ensure that all students have access to a sound, basic education (as required by the state constitution) as well as exciting innovations taking our state's schools far beyond "basic." I talk to friends, neighbors, anyone who will listen about the critical importance of a strong system of public schools for our community. I stay informed and vote based on education issues and their impact on our state. I still think of myself as a Teacher.

I am a better teacher, better parent, better citizen for having been a North Carolina Teaching Fellow.

I just hope our legislators don't destroy in one budget cycle what this state has spent 25 dedicated years building.

Click here (starting on p. 4) and here (starting on p. 2) to read more from Teaching Fellows who are speaking out against the eleventh-hour Senate budget proposal to cut all funding for this powerful program.
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