As I write this, iot is a bit after 10 PM Eastern time. I arrived home about 30 minutes ago after spending about 3.5 hours at the headquarters of the National Education Association for the DC area premiere of Mitchell 20, an important and powerful film on teachers and teaching.
The NEA is a partner to the film, but only after the fact - helping to distribute and promote it, having had no influence on its filming.
Let me provide the basic outline. In an elementary school in a poor part of Phoenix, one teacher who had herself earned her National Board Certification, decided to try to transform her school by persuading other teachers to also undergo the process. She got 20 teachers to sign up, either for the full process or for the abbreviated Take One! program, which allows a teacher to explore the process of applying for National Board Certification without having to make the full commitment. The principal decided to devote some of her federal funds to helping the teachers apply, and aditionl funding was received through Arizona K12, which provides professional development for teachers. The Executive Director of Arizona K12, Kathy Wiebke, herself a former teacher and principal and official in the Arizona state department of education, decided to see if a film could be made of what these teachers were doing, and Randy Murray and his production company produced what I saw.
This is NOT a story of wonderful triumph and success. It is a story of some of the realities of teaching, especially in a school or district of high poverty, full of minority children. It is a brutally honest film. It is a film with a point of view, one that I largely share.
Let me tell you why I think you should see this film.
For those who do not know, I am myself a National Board Certified Teacher, having achieved that status in 2005 on my first attempt - something only about 1/2 of those who apply are able to do. I was one of four teachers in my building to achieve certification that year. With those who achieved this year, we now have 15 NBCTs in our building. But we are a very large building, with over 130 teachers on staff. We are much larger than Mitchell School. We never had as many teachers applying at one time.
The National Board process is thorough, time-consuming, somewhat demanding. It is a superb form of professional development, requiring a great deal of reflection about one's own teaching practice.
It is helpful to work with other teachers. To do so as a group, as did the teachers at Mitchell, is a superb way of building a sense of community in a school.
Let's talk about Mitchell. It is heavily Hispanic, and this is in Joe Arpaio's jurisdiction. Yes, that is relevant, because when he began his immigration sweeps some parents became afraid to send their children to school for fear the families might be separated.
It is in a very poor neighborhood, with high unemployment and equally high crime.
For too many people it is not the kind of place where one would expect dedicated teachers who would commit so much of their time and energy. Why did they do it?
It was in large part because of one dynamic teacher, herself the child of two educators. Daniela Robles had herself committed to the National Board process as a means of improving her own teaching practice. She found it so energizing that she persuade the other teachers in her school. 20 of them, to take on the process as a group, and persuaded her principal to support their efforts.
The teachers in the 20 were diverse - some were Hispanic, some were Black. One was Chinese, one of Indian background. Listening to them on the film, watching them, they were/are committed to their students and to their school.
The film covers a 3 year period, the first coming to the decision as a group to take on the National Board process, and two years of some success but far more not succeeding in achieving the goal.
I do not want to describe everything in the film, because I do not want to dilute its impact.
One sees the difference having a supportive versus having a controlling central administration can make. Part of the tragedy of the movie is the illustration of what happens when the voices and concerns of teachers are ignored, over-ridden by top-down controlling management.
Daniela Robles was there, as was Kathy Wiebke. I had a chance to talk with both before the film, and briefly afterwards with Kathy. Daniela was on the panel after the film, along with NEA President Dennis van Roekel (himself from Arizona); former WV Governor Bob Wise, who is chair of the National Board for Professional Teaching Standards, the organization that runs the National Board process; and Brad Jupp of the US Department of Education, someone who was a teacher, union leader, and senior adviser to Michael Bennet when the now-Senator was Superintendent of Denver Public Schools (and thus also instrumental in the development of the Professional Compensation System for Teachers in that city). The panel was moderated by Segun Eubanks, director of Teacher Quality fo the National Education Association.
In the response to questions, both those offered by Eubanks and those from the audience, what was clear is that there was clear agreement on a number of points.
1. The National Board process is something valuable that really helps teachers grow in their profession, even if they do not achieve the goal of National Board Certification. That was clear from the remarks of some of the teachers in the film.
2. Teachers need to have some control over their profession, that is, if they want it to be considered a profession. There is a need to have teachers more involved in defining the profession.
3. We need to change how we recruit, train and support teachers. There were comparisons with high-performing nations like Finland (side note - I will be doing several diaries about Finland's approach to education in the next week), Singapore, even the Canadian province of Ontario.
4. Policy makers - at national, state, or district levels - need to perform their responsibilities with a touch that is not too heavy; there has to be enough room for teachers to be able to operate and cooperate. The exact words were that they "have to use a lighter touch" and those words were from Brad Jupp of the Dept. of Education, and the other people all nodded in agreement.
5. It is very important to encourage and sustain the kind of cooperation among teachers that the Mitchell 20 were attempting to do. The National Board process is certainly one way of doing this, but not necessarily the only way.
I have a few notes scribble on the handouts either during the film or the discussion - I deliberately did not bring my computer so I would focus on the film. Let me share a couple of scribbles
Adequate Yearly Progress - the standard under No Child Left Behind - was described as a "notable but impossible rating" - a school failing to make AYP for one subgroup has a huge impact upon the entire school in a way that is disproportionate.
Teachers are at the bottom of the pyramid of education - this has to change. Speaking of school management, "until they get it right at the school district level, the kids and the teachers are the ones who suffer."
I liked one line from Segun Eubanks: "Teaching is not rocket science - it's way harder than that."
The film include voices of experts from outside the school. We hear Professor Linda Darling-Hammond of Stanford U, a national expert on teaching. Bob Wise appeared in the film, as does Dennis van Roekel. So does Barnett Berry, founder and head of the Center for Teaching Quality, which is the parent of the Teacher Leaders Network (of which I am a member), several of whose members also appeared in the film: Bill Ferriter of Wake County NC, and Nancy Flanagan, retired former Michigan Teacher of the Year, and herself a well-known blogger on education (who has herself written this terrific blog post about the film, from which I offer the final line:
Bring your hanky. It's a powerful film about ordinary miracles. It deserves a wide audience and a national conversation.
Yes it does. As we heard as the discussion was ending, those of us in attendance were urged to try to set up screenings, to get more people to see the film, that this film deserved a wider audience than "Waiting for Superman."
We are seeing a pushback at the general direction of education policy in this country. I am proud to have been a part of organizing last summer's Save Our Schools March and National Call to Action. We are now getting films that are more honest about education, without the propaganda of "Waiting for Superman" with its funding by groups that in some cases seek to profit from education and in others are hostile to public schools and/or teachers unions. "American Teacher," which I will be seeing on Monday (in a viewing cohosted by my superintendent and my local union's president) is another.
"Mitchell 20" is a powerful film, precisely because it is honest, at times brutally so.
It has a point of view. It is not shy about repeating that point of view.
I may be nearing the end of my own time in the classroom. Yet I could not help but be moved watching this film, seeing the commitment and dedication of the teachers, feeling rage at the mishandling (I am being kind) by the superintendent and district leadership.
Perhaps this film, if it does nothing else, will give you a real window into the world we teachers inhabit. My world is far friendlier than theirs: I am in a high-performing school, with a supportive building administration and a not totally hostile central administration. We do not have the high degree of poverty that impacts the community of Mitchell School. And yet, we are not immune from some of the pressures they experience.
We will not reform American education by beating up on the teachers who are the main thing sustaining it. We should not demoralize those who are so dedicated to serving the students, particularly those willing to take on the challenge of a community like that served by the Mitchell 20.
See the film.
Have others see the film.
Then maybe the conversations we have about the future of education policy in this country will be a little more realistic?
We can only hope.