#merit pay

5 Important Benefits of the Merit Compensation System

Paying employees has always been a tricky matter for employers. Fail to have a generous compensation system and there’s a big chance that your people will soon feel like they’re not getting properly rewarded for their work. On the other hand, being too generous makes the employer prone to being abused by employees and the rewards tend to become less effective in motivating people to perform…

IF YOU HAPPEN TO BE A TEACHER you’ve probably noticed something strange about education reformers these days. You could pile up their combined experience in teaching and add a stack of baloney sandwiches and still not have the equivalent of one thirty-year veteran in a first grade, or middle school science, or high school Latin classroom. So, whenever we hear Mayor Michael R. Bloomberg or Michelle Rhee or various governors talking about what they would do to fix schools, if they were doing the fixing, it’s like asking me or my father to talk about what we would have done if we had ever been in combat. My father was an officer in the Army Air Corps during World War II; but he did duty as a weatherman and never left the States. In keeping with family tradition, I enlisted in the Marines in December 1968. After boot camp I wasn’t sent to Vietnam. I was sent to supply school and did my “fighting” behind a desk in California. I was more likely to get sunburned at the beach on weekends or die inhaling “White Out” while correcting typos than to be hit by bullets or step on a booby trap. It would be the height of arrogance to style myself a “hero.” Unfortunately, humility never stops the non-combatant types in U. S. education from portraying themselves as Medal of Honor winners. They don’t do any fighting but love to tell the combat veterans what they ought to do to win the war to fix the schools. Just imagine what might happen if these bold reformers lived in a world that operated on similar principles. It would be a world where no experience was required to qualify an individual as an expert, in education, heart surgery, or airplane maintenance. First, let’s send Mayor Bloomberg to the doctor. He’s having heart trouble. So he drops in on John Sears, the plumber. John taps his chest a few times with a pipe wrench and says the mayor needs a valve replaced. “We’ll run 1/2 galvanized piping while we’re at it,” Sears explains. “My god,” replies the billionaire businessman, “do you know anything about heart surgery?” “As much as you know about teaching,” Sears retorts. Meanwhile, Michelle Rhee heads for the auto repair shop because her “check engine” light is blinking. She’s driving a Ferrari, purchased with a few of the fat speaker’s fees she earns by talking about fixing schools. She pulls into a McDonald’s and asks the acne-faced young lady at the drive-thru to step outside and consider the problem. The teen rolls her eyes; but when Rhee offers $100 merit pay agrees to do what she can. The teen studies the matter briefly then tells Rhee she needs oil and pours two gallons of used deep fry fat into her gas tank. “This is going to be great,” Rhee says as she speeds away. Finally, several governors and members of state legislatures board a 747 bound for Tahiti. A company that runs for-profit charter schools and another company that designs standardized tests are paying all expenses and sending everyone to a conference on education reform and a week’s vacation in that Pacific paradise. Ohio Governor John Kasich is nervous before he flies and asks about pilot experience. “Don’t worry,” a flight attendant tells him. “U. S. Secretary of Education Arne Duncan is at the controls. He hasn’t ever flown a plane before but he has watched planes take off. Besides, he went to Harvard.” Suddenly, Kasich feels better. His seatmate, Chris Christie, isn’t quite convinced. The governor of New Jersey is kind of wedged in his seat, anyway. “Uh, who’s the co-pilot, just in case?” he wonders. “Not to worry, sir,” the attendant smiles reassuringly. “Our co-pilot is Snooki, of Jersey Shore fame.” “Ah, a solid citizen and a constituent,” Christie replies. He feels better and asks the attendant for an extra bag of peanuts. Sitting across the aisle, the majority leader of the Wisconsin Senate is hard at work. He’s wearing one of those Cheeseheads, which he thinks might come in handy as a flotation device should the plane go down over water. Obviously, he knows just about as much when it comes to airplanes as all the passengers aboard, combined, know about teaching. But he’s drafting new legislation on his laptop—actually, he’s cutting and pasting language provided by the American Legislative Exchange Council—which will fundamentally alter public education in his state. “May I ask,” he says, “who did the pre-flight safety check? I hope they knew what they were doing.” “Only the most knowledgeable mechanics are allowed to work on our planes,” the attendant assures him. “Glenn Beck, who knows everything, signed off on engine maintenance. And that new kid, from Teach for America, checked flight controls.” “Does the new kid actually know how to do a safety check?” the senator wonders. “Of course not,” the attendant admits. “But she’s really smart. Besides, what do any of you know about how schools really work? Now, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll exit before takeoff and go back to my real job. Trust me. You’ll be fine.” “What do you normally do for a living?” asks Governor Christie. His words sound a little garbled because his mouth is full of half-chewed legumes. “I’m a special education teacher from Newark, your home state. Twenty-four years in the classroom, if you care, devoted to helping kids with serious problems. Well, gentlemen, have a safe trip. You’re in the same good hands as American education reform today. And if there’s any trouble, don’t worry, there are plenty of parachutes.” “You might need two,” Kasich says, poking a bit of fun at the chunky chief executive from Jersey. “Who did you say packed those parachutes?” Mr. Kasich asks more seriously. “We hire out that job to the Vile Anvil Company of Lima, Ohio, sir. Remember? Non-union workers. People earning minimum wage. You gave the owners a huge tax break to bring anvil-making jobs to Ohio and promised they wouldn’t have to worry about a lot of government safety inspections. What can possibly go wrong? You’re in the hands of anvil-making experts.” The special education teacher smiles knowingly as she gathers personal items and heads back to the boarding gate.

I WAS WORKING OUT RECENTLY, trying to burn off a few of my candy-for-breakfast calories, when I ran into Ray Spicher, an old high school buddy. He spent a career in education and worked as principal in the Cincinnati, Princeton and Madiera schools. We talked shop and I asked what he thought about standardized testing.

His answer perfectly captured the central dilemma. He said he thought testing helped kids at the low end in school, forcing teachers to devote attention to their needs. Then he added (this is not a perfect quote, because both of us were huffing and puffing and pedaling stationary bikes), “I used to tell my staff whatever you measure, you’ll get more of it.  If you test for ‘more cars in the parking lot,’ you'll get more cars in the parking lot.”

Exactly.

So:  Let me give you examples from my experience. The last year I taught, 2007-2008, we were told in no uncertain terms to focus on standardized tests.  Principals really had no choice since they would also be judged according to test results.  When it came to my lesson plan on pioneers, cheap land in early America, and the roots of the “American Dream,” I had to kill that topic because it wasn’t going to be covered on the test. Instead, I had to worry about a question or two on Shay’s Rebellion or a query about Songhai trade.

Call me crazy, but I don’t think we need more cars in the parking lot with bumper stickers that read, “Shay’s Rebellion.”

I taught a long time and got to see what happened when states first started using standardized tests, and when that didn’t help, got to see what federal pressure might achieve. When I was teaching American history, and free to do what I thought best, I used to ask seventh graders to take a test and identify the fifty states. I’m sure some of my former students will remember fondly how, if they failed a test, I called parents, ratted them out, and required them to stay after school and retake the test. 

(There’s a lesson, there, too, but not one you can measure on a standardized test.)

Now, let’s say, in an average year, I have 140 students. By the time I’m done all but two or three know at least 35 states, the minimum required; 138 know where California is; 137 can identify Florida, 120 know Wisconsin is next to Michigan. Maybe 34 know all fifty states.

I’m not going to deny that a dozen still mix up Kansas and Nebraska. I’m not going to say that one boy still doesn't mark “Tennessee” as “Hawaii.”  I'm only going to say, if you’re a teacher you do the best you can.

In the early 90s, however, the State of Ohio came up with a brilliant plan—a Ninth Grade Proficiency Test. On that test, under the social studies section, the only state you had to find was....OHIO! 

So, my 34 students who can find all fifty states, suddenly their knowledge means nothing. It’s not tested.

If my average student can find 44 states, which is roughly the case, that too means nothing. I need to focus on that one kid who thinks Hawaii is south of Kentucky and make sure he knows where Ohio is found. It doesn’t matter if he still believes Hawaii is south of Kentucky.

Ohio is the only car in the parking lot that counts. 

Since passage of No Child Left Behind in 2002 we know in the lower grades that testing has been limited to reading and math. So what you get are fewer cars in the elementary lot. Music is not tested and probably can’t be. So children spend less time on music. Art can’t be tested. No art necessary in second grade. Gym class? You could test for physical fitness but Americans aren’t ready for that. So schools cut back on physical education. 

Just what we need.

Even science can be cut if necessary. It’s not covered by testing in the lower grades. That means you can cut time spent on plant growth and focus on math instead.

If you’re a third grade teacher in Ohio, under proposed new laws, your pay and job security will soon depend on test results. And if you have thirty students, and they all get one more question right in math, you’re going to get a bonus, even if they still believe the earth is flat, that dinosaurs roam the earth in 2012, and the moon is made of cheese. 

In my class we used to read a fourteen page assignment on George Washington, one I created on my own, and spent a day-and-a-half discussing his life and leadership during the American Revolution. I liked to focus on what made him a great leader; but you can’t test for an understanding of leadership.  I also liked to focus on a list of 110 rules of behavior he memorized when he was a youth. I liked to point out that he wanted to make himself a better person. Then I asked students, for homework, to draw up a list of their own rules to follow. Unfortunately, you can’t measure self-improvement with a standardized test. So there’s no “sense” talking to teens about how to be better people. 

No car in that parking lot.

MOST OF WHAT MAKES EDUCATION MEANINGFUL can never be measured in the end. In the school where I taught we had an outstanding band director. Mr. Maegly had middle school kids sounding like high school bands and dozens of his charges went on to careers in music. And for what? The loudest-talking “experts” in education today insist that teachers in every subject will have to be measured if we want to “fix” America's schools. What we’re going to have in the end is an I.R.S. model in education. We’re going to bog down an entire system in abstruse rules and complex codification and giant piles of 

paperwork. We’re going to kill the best teaching and focus on a few simple tests.

What are we going to have in the end, what do we gain for all the billions spent? We’re going to get more cars in the parking lot.

What we actually want, of course, are better drivers. Standardized tests don’t measure learning any more than your ability to pass a license test at sixteen guarantees ten years later that you won’t tailgate the car in front of you, or forget to put on your seatbelt, or flip your left turn signal at the appropriate time.

It doesn’t mean, twenty years later, that you won’t drive drunk. 

I'VE BEEN BITCHING too much lately about strange legislation coming out of Columbus, the work of the Ohio General Assembly. So I think I'll do a few posts on why I always loved teaching. One of the great joys of a life spent in the classroom—at least in a pre-standardized world—is the chance to get kids excited and lead them in a direction (or even follow) that neither they nor you expected to go.

Standardized education anyone? Try testing this.

Every year, when the time came to look at Native American cultures, I liked to start with a quick discussion of what we called the “TV Indian” stereotype, the idea that all Indians lived the same way. To make the point clear, students listed features of the “TV Indian” lifestyle. Answers always looked something like this: Teepees Feathers Skin clothes Painted faces Bow and arrows Ride horses Hunt buffalo Talk funny, say "How," and "Ugh." I explained that Native American civilizations varied. For example, some natives relied on corn, beans and squash as dietary staples. “How come no one ever does movies about farming Indians?” I'd ask. “Because it would be boring,” the kids agreed. I liked to break into a soulful rendition of “Old McDonald Had a Farm” and ask students to sing along. No one ever did. AS PART OF THE UNIT, I always showed a series of slides that I created, including one of a woman with a strange-looking elongated skull (see above). Students gasped when the image filled the screen and I explained that standards of beauty vary. Tribes along the Pacific coast, for example, often used a board-like device to reshape babies’ heads. The higher forehead was considered attractive.

I liked to ask the kids if they could think of any modern American cultural practices that the natives might have found ridiculous. In one class, a girl named Stefanie King raised her hand a moment, thought better of it, and lowered it again. I called on her anyway. She hesitated, looked down from the high dive, and took the plunge. “Mr. Viall,” she said, “their customs seem dumb to us but it’s no different than American women who pay for boob jobs.” When the roar of laughter subsided, and after I stopped doubling over myself, I replied, “That’s why I like having you in class, Stefanie. You always know how to think.” IT'S NOT STANDARDIZED EDUCATION, of course, but in those days, a teacher could still use his best professional judgment.

Yeah:  We can all agree with that.

Yesterday the Viall household got a slick political brochure in the mail, supporting a "yes" vote on Issue 2.  That's the referendum vote related to Senate Bill 5. It was a pretty cool ad:  all about merit pay and "rewarding good teachers" and even threw in a little bit of cleavage--a bid to appeal to the "horny vote," I suppose. Supporters of Issue 2 and Senate Bill 5, of course, hope to baboozle you with a little boobage.  They want you to believe the law is designed to REWARD Ohio educators for superior performance.  What they don't want you to do is look past the attractive model--because the history of "merit pay" hasn't been very good. A decade ago, for example, the State of Ohio began promising "great teachers" bonuses if they went through an arduous process and won "National Board Certification."  Some of the best and the brightest applied; but only a fraction of those who submitted materials won this prestigous award.  Then they settled back to collect their $25,000 bonuses, paid over ten years. Unfortunately, the State soon ran into budget problems.  So?  The boys up in Columbus announced that the money wasn't there and the bonus part of the plan would have to be scrapped.  That's what we call "Bernie Madoff Merit Pay." Think it can't happen again?  Of course it can.  Texas just gutted it's entire merit pay plan, citing deficit issues.  Funds for "rewarding" the great teachers were slashed from $392 million to $40 million, headed for zero soon.  New York City had a $56 million dollar merit pay plan; but when no one could offer proof that merit pay actually improved schools, that plan was scrapped.  Atlanta and Washington, D. C. public schools bet heavily on merit pay to "improve" test scores and ended up with rampant cheating, instead. If you vote "yes" on Issue 2, because you don't want to pay higher taxes, that makes sense and if that's your sole focus you have every right. 

Don't be a boob. Vote "No" on Issue 2.

 That still doesn't change the real focus and intent of Senate Bill 5:  to deny bargaining power to every public school teacher in the state--including the very best--and every cop, fireman and social worker, too. 

It's not a law Republican legislators passed to help the average worker--and if you vote "yes" because you think it is, you've been badly fooled.  You've been mesmerized by the two boobs and now you've voted like a boob.



Governor Kasich is NO friend to teachers--or probation officers--or highway workers--or any other working stiff in the state.  He might keep taxes low and he's a friend to powerful business interests, for sure.  He's a former former Lehman Brothers executive, after all.

That doesn't mean you can believe him when he promises, "The check is in the mail."

Coming to a school near you.

THANKS TO EVERYONE who responded to yesterday's post, "Aesop's Gym." I'll provide the answer, if you're interested, tomorrow. In other words, it's not too late to try to solve the essential riddle in education.

For now, let's take up the question of merit pay, based on test scores, an idea beloved by many of the biggest names in education reform, a panacea offered by fast-talking politicians across the land.  It's a key feature of Senate Bill 5, as lawmakers set out to "improve" Ohio schools. Sunday, I actually met two teachers who favor merit pay, although I don't think they're fans of SB5, by any means. Then, Monday,  I talked to a friend, a speech therapist in the local schools. She's a twelve-year veteran, still filled with first-year-out-of-college idealism, and worried about where we're headed in American education. If you went back thirty years ago, when my friend was in grade school, many of the students she now sees in therapy would not have been allowed in public schools. But the field for speech therapy is changing. It's not just the kindergartner who says "wabbit," any more. My friend serves Downs Syndrome kids and severe behavior kids and one autisitc child who, until this year, has been totally non-verbal.  At age nine, "Martha," as I'll call her, had never spoken a word in her life; and at home mom had no idea what to do.  Naturally, a little girl with no effective way to communicate is going to be frustrated. So, until recently, she simply snatched at any food she saw in reach. And she's "a biter," too. AT FIRST, NEITHER THE SPECIAL EDUCATION TEACHER my friend works with, nor my friend, nor the classroom aide could figure out what Martha wanted. So Martha reacted the only way she knew. "Look out," the special ed. teacher said in warning to the therapist one afternoon, "she's going to bite." With that, my friend drew back in her seat, and Martha jerked forward in hers, and sank teeth in her blazer.  She missed flesh but did leave a hole in one sleeve. The special education teacher has bite marks up and down her arms these days. But like my friend, she and the aide keep plugging away, and I don't think their dedication has anything to do with merit pay, even if you could measure what they're doing.  They've been doing a lot of behavior modification exercises, for example, and using a combination of signs, and cards, and verbalization techniques, and they've been breaking through. Recently, Martha wanted apple slices to eat. First, she took the card that says, "I want," and placed it on the table before her. Then she took a card with a picture of an apple and placed it next to the first card. She didn't snatch at slices. And she didn't snap at the therapist's arm, either. Instead, she said in a faltering way, "I want apple." Over a cup of coffee this weekend, my friend mentioned that she was "excited to go in Monday and try again" to help Martha. It's a sentiment hundreds of thousands of teachers express in different ways, each and every day. And I don't think this kind of motivation comes down to money. I don't believe for one minute that you can ever "measure" education, with all its variables, and what scares me most about plans that say we can, and then draw direct links from test scores to merit pay, is that you'll bog down teachers in paperwork and spend hundreds of millions on statistical analysis and won't be helping kids like Martha in the slightest.

The more we focus on testing, testing, testing and measuring, measuring, measuring, and the more lawmakers and bureaucrats stick their noses into the process, the more real teachers will become like accountants trying to figure out the U. S. tax code.