Project Follow Through,
And the Knaves, Rascals, and Eaters of Broken Meats

November, 2004

Erect your schemes with as much method and skill as you please; yet if the materials be nothing but dirt, spun out of your own entrails, the edifice will conclude at last in a cobweb, the duration of which, like that of other spiders' webs, may be imputed to their being forgotten, or neglected, or hid in a corner.
[Jonathan Swift. The battle of the books. 1704]

 

In another installment of palaver I wrote that, faced with quantitative data (1) from four different instruments; (2) measuring achievement (in math, reading, and spelling), self-esteem, and perceived control over one's own learning; (3) with tens of thousands of students; (4) in well over a hundred schools across the country; (5) comparing outcomes yielded by nine kinds of curricula, systematic and explicit instruction did the best for kids in the short-run and long–run.  In stark contrast, the so-called child-centered, constructivist, wholistic, teacher-as-facilitator curricula actually worsened the percentile ranking of disadvantaged children in relation to the larger population. 

 

The data meant nothing to the education establishment—except as a threat.

 

The data were then reanalyzed in a way that enabled the new crop of statisticians to claim that there were no major differences.  The education establishment (foundations, professional teacher organizations, ed schools) used the "new findings" to claim that systematic and explicit instruction [(1) objectives defined in terms of what students will actually do, not "appreciate," or "understand," or "recognize"; (2) tasks taught in a logically progressive sequence (higher-to lower utility; easier to harder; parts to whole); (3) teacher focuses communication precisely on teaching the skills stated in the objectives; (4) teacher models the new knowledge, verbalizes her reasoning, leads students through it, and then tests immediately to see if they got it; and (5) planned practice and application] was no better than progressive instruction.  They also took this as further incentive to push progressive methods.

 

In recent years, mere leanings towards progressive education (letting kids wander around in "learning centers," lettings kids pick the tasks to work on, only occasionally teaching directly--the "teachable moment"), were elaborated by the educational "intelligentsia" into something more substantial.  No longer a loose assemblage of weird notions and untested activities, the gurus of progressivism created a dogma—a set of beliefs that would define what is Right, Good, and True, and therefore what was to be considered Immoral, Bad, and False.

 

The dogma is "best practices" and "developmental appropriateness." Note the arrogance in claiming to know what is best and what is appropriate.  Note the authoritarian posturing as one group (who was neither elected nor appointed by the pubic, and who has no comparative experimental data to support its claims) tries to control the thinking and the activities of everyone from state departments of public instruction (notions of best practice applied to a state standard course of study) all the way down to whether a teacher should be allowed to teach little kids spelling in kindergarten (developmentally appropriate).

 

You can imagine the power of this sort of control over language.  Of course, Orwell had much to say about it. 

What ed student would even FEEL like questioning an ed perfessor?

"Uh, Professor.  This BEST practices thing.  How can anyone know what's best? You'd have to study every possible alternative method for an infinite amount of time.  So, isn’t this pure hyperbole?  And if so, what is its function?  To make us suspend our critical faculties so you can more easily indoctrinate us?  Huh!!"

Not likely.

Or what new teacher, struggling to get 25 kindergartners to sit down (herding frogs) is going to think, "Dang, those ed perfessers were out of the minds.  If you let kids roam around for three months, what makes you think they'll sit down and pay attention when you now tell them to?  Besides, by acting as if you were their PLAYMATE, you have stipulated that you are NOT an authority figure.  Oh, that's a real fine idea!"

 

No, the new teacher is likely to think the kids have problems.  "It's all about lack of parental involvement."  Or, "It's their culture."  Or, "It’s a class thing."

And then, she begins to find teaching to be a lot less fun than she thought.

And then she decides that maybe this job doesn't pay enough for all the headaches and paper work.

 

And then she decides to get a graduate degree in education.  "I won’t have to teach those kids.  I'll teach teachers."  Or, she decides to work for a corporation that pays more, has better benefits, and doesn't require that she wrestle emotionally disturbed kids (I mean kids who HAVE emotional impairments—Sorry, I forgot how we're supposed  to think and talk.) to the ground.

 

And so the kids lose another great teacher.

 

An example.

 

Professor Plum was on a committee to create the preschool curriculum for kids with identified disabilities.  Not kids "at risk."  Kids with severe impairments.  One meeting I brought kits for Reading Mastery and Language for Learning.  These are the much-revised, field-tested, and cuter versions of DISTAR programs that had been used by schools using the Direct Instruction Model in project Follow Through.  I knew these curricula would be useful.  I even used them in the late 60's with the same kinds of kids.  I brought them for show and tell.

 

Well, two of my colleagues were there. They advocate—in fact, they insist on--what they consider "best practices" and "developmentally appropriate practices."  In other words, the usual child-centered fluff that did so poorly in Follow Through and that now (in the guise of whole language, fuzziest math, and multi-cultural social studies)  makes kids from kindergarten through high school ignorant.

 

We went around the table offering suggestions for the curriculum.  I listened politely--as is my policy in these circs.  Then the director of the shindig asked my opinion.  I hauled out the two kits and handed out data from Follow Through and from a half dozen articles showing the benefits of these two programs for preschoolers with disabilities.  Nothing pushy, you understand. Professor Plum is not pushy.  [No, not on your gingham bonnet.  He knows when to be politic.]

 

Well, my colleagues sat up as if a darning needle had penetrated their nether regions to a significant extent.  They emitted barnyard noises that were new to me, and then launched into a fairly fruity attack on Professor Plum.

 

"Those curricula are NOT developmentally appropriate!"

"They aren't?"

"No."

"What's inappropriate about them?"

"Having preschoolers sit at tables for lessons!"

"Sitting is not developmentally appropriate?"

"Not for that age."

"But don’t they sit at home for supper?"  [Gotcha!  Ha!]

"Yes, but that's not instruction!"

 

[This could have gone on a long time, exploring what instruction means.  It's taken me seven years, but I've finally concluded that you can't reason with blockheads.  Fugedaboudit. I used to think, "Just show some data that reveal what works best."  Ha.  This field is not guided by data.  Or, "Just raise curricular issues at faculty meetings.  Maybe, as the Good Book saith, we can reason together."  Don’t be a clotpate.  Reason is a threat to these people.  Reason will lead to the conclusion that they are and always have been dead wrong.]

 

"And they should NOT be taught language during lessons. It should be during ordinary activities.  More naturalistic."

"But these kids have SEVERE learning problems.  They are IN this preschool precisely because they do NOT learn incidentally.  That's what SPECIAL needs means."

"There is all kinds of research showing that you can teach language more naturally."

"Show me ONE article, please."

 

And that, as they say, was that.

 

Do you think Professor Plum was humiliated?  Ha!  He considers this kind of abuse to be the breakfast of champions.

 

And so, the meeting ended.  My colleagues left in haste.  I, in marked contrast, stayed behind to help clean the significant amount of debris from all the snacking.

 

One of the teachers said, "Boy, I thought you were going to have a fight!"

The director said,  "What was the matter with THEM?  Don't they know these kids have severe handicaps and NEED the curricula you brought?"

 

Then she winked and whispered, "Of course we're going to use them.  Planned to all along!"

 

"Why," you ask, "was the director planning to use the curricula you brought?  And why wasn't she swayed by the goofy claims of your two colleagues?"

Easy, dear hearts.  She was one of my students.

 

Given the pressures and the opportunities of state level accountability legislation, complaints from consumer organizations, No Child Left Behind, and Reading First; given the moral responsibility that (I believe) most teachers feel for teaching well; and given their knowledge that progressive theories are airy nonsense and that progressive methods appear to be harmful for many kids (especially if you want them to learn to read, do math, and think clearly), even ONE person with concrete methods to offer (and the data to show they work) and no fear of dingbats can make a diff.

 

Frederick Douglas said something to the effect, The limits of tyrants are prescribed by the tolerance of their subjects.  If we stand on our hind legs, like men and women, the deaducators will run—just as the Persians ran from the vastly outnumbered (but not intimidated) Greeks at Marathon and Plataea.  They were cowards.

 

This field needs smart and courageous people to lead our fellows out of the cave.  If not you, whom?