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Filtering by Category: K-16 Pipeline

The CliffsNotes of Teaching: Movies about education

Randall F. Clemens

I originally posted this blog on May 14, 2009.

Laurent Cantet’s The Class, Entre les Murs in French, accentuates experiences typically ignored in most classroom-based films and elicits new feelings from the audience. Based on François Bégaudeau’s semi-autobiographical book about the life of a teacher in an inner-city school in Paris, we follow the evolution (or de-evolution) of Monsieur Marin, played by Bégaudeau, and his students throughout a school-year.

Cantet shot the movie like a documentary. The scenes were not scripted; instead, they were modeled on the book, improvised and rehearsed by actors, all nonprofessionals. Marin, while possibly well-intentioned, is far from likable. The class is populated with racially diverse students, who become more flawed, authentic as the story progresses. Like a real classroom, certain students move to the forefront as others drift to the background; politics and power struggles loom over the actions of the teacher and students.

Entre les Murs does not kowtow to the typical fanciful dynamics among a teacher and his students portrayed in Hollywood. It does not hold you tight and reassure you that all is well. It does question the roles of stakeholders and purposes and effectiveness of education. The movie reveals startling and upsetting glimpses into a classroom and adds a human dynamic to a genre that is sorely lacking.

Tom Hanks Loves #FreeCommunityCollege and So Do I

Randall F. Clemens

Originally posted at www.21stcenturyscholar.org

Is it possible for Tom Hanks to be any more lovable? Apparently, yes. Last week, the actor who made such endearing classics as Big, The ‘Burbs, and Turner & Hooch published an editorial about his time at Chabot Community College. After discussing his experiences, he concluded, “That place made me what I am today.”

Hanks wrote the op-ed in response to President Obama’s plan to provide free community college. Of course, the policy warrants a critical discussion. The research is mixed about the effectiveness of two-year colleges. Scholars have long discussed the possibility of a “cooling out” that may occur; others focus on the lack of degree completion among students and poor alignment between two- and four-year colleges. For instance, less than two-thirds of students who enter community college will graduate with a degree after three years.

Others argue that Obama is wasting billions of dollars. After all, pathways to college and career begin years before community college. Why not spend the money on early education or remediation? Consider that, in a city like New York, less than half of the students from the lowest performing schools graduate. Of those who do, less than a quarter are college-ready.

Bill wrote last week about the possible externalities of the ambitious plan. Yes, it may increase college access for low-income students; privileged students may also partake. With a limited amount of resources and no such thing as pure public goods, perhaps the government ought to target the provision of services. Established policy scholars presented similarly incisive arguments when mayoral candidates during New York City’s last election waved big, bright flags for universal pre-kindergarten. Few discussed the downsides of such a simple and alluring idea. Namely, scholarship indicates that low-income children benefit the most from pre-k. In such a cash-strapped state and city, why would politicians subsidize a service for middle- and high-income children when the gains will likely be minimal?

I agree with all of the above concerns. The plan may be a colossal waste of money. It may not improve college access or address the core problems of the pre-k to college pipeline. It may never even survive the whims of the political process. And yet, I’m thrilled.

Prior examples show that sometimes politicians—rather than using the results of a cost-benefit analysis—ought to make decisions based on ideals. That’s part of being an ethical policymaker.

Postsecondary education made me a more thoughtful and compassionate person. It also prepared me for a career that I love. I was a first-generation college student. My family couldn’t afford a four-year university. I attended community college. I eventually earned a Ph.D. One wouldn’t have been possible without the other. Everyone should have the same opportunity.

My wife and I are also one of the first cohorts who have incurred so much student loan debt that—despite everyone trumpeting the value of postsecondary education—the financial burden may outweigh the benefit. The cost is even higher for first-generation students today. That’s wrong and something needs to change.

Maybe the free community college plan fails. Or, maybe it doesn’t. Maybe, it foreshadows a free four-year college plan. I’ll take the risk because the reward could be so much better.

Ferguson, ethics, and the public intellectual

Randall F. Clemens

Originally published at www.21stcenturyscholar.org

During the 1890s, newspaper publishers Joseph Pulitzer and William Randolph Hearst competed against each other to sell more papers. They printed sensationalist stories accompanied with fear-inducing headlines and vivid, provocative pictures. Journalists eschewed facts for melodrama. At the height of yellow journalism, the two newspaper tycoons published stories that contributed to the United States’ involvement in the Spanish-American War. 

Fast-forward 120 years. In Ferguson, Missouri, a 28-year-old white police officer shoots an 18-year-old black man. Residents protest. Droves of reporters travel to Ferguson. Over three months later, following months of unrest and anticipating even more, Missouri Governor Jay Nixon declares a state of emergency. One week afterwards, a grand jury decides not to indict the police officer with criminal charges. Violent and nonviolent protests escalate. Journalists chase and film rioters. They flood newspapers, television channels, and social media with panic-inducing stories and images. Cable channels cut from out-of-breath reporters in the field to argumentative talking heads in the studio.


The media has largely influenced the ways in which the public talks and thinks about Michael Brown’s death and the subsequent protests. Rather than facilitating civil, fact-based exchanges, they encourage vehement, opinion-based disagreement. Their actions starkly differ from the ethics of journalism, which include pursuing truth, reporting accurately, and limiting harm. If there is such a thing as a 21st century public sphere—a place where we can intellectually discuss important social issues—the media is corrupting it.

What, then, is the role of academics? Consider some of the ethical concerns of researchers: beneficence, respect, and justice. While we typically discuss those ideals in terms of the conduct of research, we may also consider them in relation to when and how scholars participate in public forums. 

Stated more simply, while talking heads whip up racist antagonism and blame individuals, research is resolute. Young men of color disproportionately experience gun violence. A discriminatory police state surveils low-income neighborhoods. We have established clearer pathways from school to prison than school to college. And, due to a lack of opportunities, concentrated and generational poverty has spread among individuals of color.

While sitting in Birmingham Jail, Dr. King wrote, “Law and order exist for the purpose of establishing justice and when they fail in this purpose they become the dangerously structured dams that block the flow of social progress.” We have few forums to thoughtfully and critically discuss the pursuit of social justice and the existence of injustice in the United States. Scholars have an ethical responsibility to assume an increased role in public discourse, to illuminate the pressing causes and consequences of injustice, and to help imagine opportunities for social justice in the 21st century.

An insider perspective: Why education is going to improve

Randall F. Clemens

A few weeks ago, the Boston Celtics lost to the Miami Heat in the Eastern Conference Finals. Doc Rivers, one of the best leaders of individuals in the world, sat at the podium. He organized a team effort to nearly beat a superior team. On television, there could not have been a gaudier setting. On the left column, ESPN advertised the upcoming television program, a banner of upcoming events. On the bottom, a ticker highlighted sports scores. On the table next to him, there was a Gatorade. And behind him, a banner advertised the NBA. After he spoke, the network cut to the Kia postgame show. For a lot of people, this television program represents some sort of Orwellian dystopia. It portends a corporate future where individualism no longer exists.

What do I think? Funders fund change. Gates, Broad, and any other number or philanthropies, keep doing what you are doing.

What I am talking about is a concept in innovation called the next adjacent possibility. Those people need to move out of the way. In case I have not been clear enough, the connections to education ought to be fairly obvious. Schools of education are being renamed. Neighborhood schools are becoming charter schools. Content is becoming privatized. Is this Sodom and Gomorra? Nope, it’s change.

I am sick of either / or distinctions, and so is my generation. There are times to be polite and indirect and there are times to be harsh and direct. I think we’ve reached former. If you are the old guard, you are impending progress.

The changing nature of public education

Randall F. Clemens

John is a mechanic who lives on the less affluent side of town. His three children all attend public schools. Last year, John Jr., his oldest child, started high school. After the first semester, his grades dropped. Normally an A or B type of student, he seemed apathetic about receiving Cs and Ds. The father, after some investigation, discovered that John Jr. had been bullied by some of his older peers. To complicate the matter, the peers were gang members and caused trouble to the teachers as well.

John went to his son's teachers. Some were responsive and helpful. Others were not. After two more months, he noticed his son becoming detached. He slept in, argued with his two younger siblings, and always wanted to be left alone. The concerned father consulted with the ninth grade administrator, who suggested John Jr. was just going through growing pains as he transitioned from middle to high school. The father left the meeting more dejected than before.

John, who was an avid supporter of traditional public education, decided it was time to explore other alternatives. The well being of his son was most important, and he needed a better educational setting. A week later, he enrolled his son in a nearby charter school. The school’s teacher to student ratio was far smaller than the traditional school and the students were more eager to learn. 

Does this scenario sound familiar? It should. It is occurring in cities across the country.

Spokespeople for educational change often reduce reform options to forced dichotomies. We are supposed to pick from a menu of either / or options: neighborhood or charter schools, democracy or capitalism, test- or student-centered learning, and on and on. As the above scenario points out, the choice for parents is often much simpler and based on finding the best possible school.

This is the last of my blogs about education as a public good. I will not belabor my point because I think the majority of readers believe, like I do, that the nature of public education as a public good is changing. The change is neither good nor bad; it is just different than before. We cannot approach education as Dewey or Thorndike did. In fact, we cannot approach education as we did even five years ago. 

Individuals who argue that neighborhood schools are inherently good and support democracy and charter schools are inherently bad and support capitalism are arguing for an ideal that has never existed. Neighborhood schools as a whole have always struggled to educate all of the students in the neighborhood whether those students have been low-income, Native American, African American, or Latino, or immigrant. Sure, we have outstanding cases of neighborhood schools helping a diverse mix of students. But, we also have those same examples in regard to charter schools.

We have innumerable opportunities to improve schools and neighborhoods and those opportunities do not easily divide between democracy or capitalism, neighborhood or charter schools, or whichever other dichotomies a few outspoken reformers tell us from which we need to choose. Parents such as John are not interested in choosing sides or getting involved in debates about ideology; they want the best possible educations for their children. The nature of public education has changed, and it is time to update the ways in which we discuss, think about, and design education as a public good.

Twitter as the public sphere or a daytime talk show?

Randall F. Clemens

Is Twitter a new version of the public sphere? That is the question I posed last week.

Let me revisit the three basic criteria for the public sphere:

  •     First, participants treat others as equal;  
  •     Second, participants agree to discuss and question issues related to the common good;
  •     And third, everyone participates.

Considering the criteria, how are academics actually using Twitter?

I follow hundreds of professors from around the country. The users I most appreciate are the ones who post new articles and blogs as well as mention events and conferences. The social media provides a great venue to link content. It also changes the pace of academia. No longer do we have to wait days for feedback or years for articles to go through the publication process.

Twitter also presents opportunities to connect and converse with academics across the country. These exchanges most closely resemble Twitter as a public sphere even if they do not fulfill all of the criteria.

But, sometimes the tweeting habits of individuals, including professors and teachers, assume less professional tones. I have read long, heated, and scandalous exchanges of 140 characters or less between esteemed professors. A few weeks ago, during an organized conversation when participants all used the same hashtag, I viewed an academic conversation about school choice degenerate to a personal attack about the professional associations of one of the well-known participants. These are not only issues of etiquette but also the ultimate goals of social media use as they pertain to education. 

Current uses of Twitter do not seem to indicate it is an emerging public sphere. So, after two blogs, what is the point? 

Academia is changing and so is technology. My goal is not to tell you how to use social media. At one level, because the line between the personal and professional is blurred, I think we could all benefit from a few more conversations about standards and practices. At another level, from fomenting revolutions in Egypt to spreading the latest Internet memes, the value of Twitter to discuss and diffuse ideas is clear. I wonder if using the social media to take potshots at colleagues is a missed opportunity to spread innovative ideas and genuinely improve education.

You can put a price on education

Randall F. Clemens

I.

I come from a working class family. I am the only one to enroll in a four-year university. To save money, my father asked me to attend community college first. I did. After two years, I transferred to the University of Maryland. A week before classes began, my family’s economic standing changed drastically. I accepted the fact that I could no longer afford college. A few days later, my mother and I sat in the financial aid office at College Park. The officer did not provide good news. As I sat with my head down, my mom leaned over and, with superhero-type strength, said, “I don’t care what we have to do. Come hell or high water, we’ll find a way.” That belief carried me through my B.A., M.S., and Ph.D. To pay tuition, my mom worked extra hours, and I commuted to school, worked a job, and received need- and merit-based aid. 

I have experienced the same sort of unyielding resolve in many of the parents of the first-generation immigrants with whom I have worked. Last year, I sat with Jose and his father in their living room, which also doubled as a bedroom. Jose’s father, who suffered from AIDS, was struggling to find a free health clinic for his toothache. Through sickness, he worked 12 hours a day for six days a week in order to earn less than minimum wage. I asked why he sacrificed so much. He pointed to Jose. “For him,” he responded, “He’s going to college. He will be successful.” This year, Jose is a freshman at UC Irvine.

Higher education provides pathways to opportunity. That is a core value of our country. It is the belief that has guided my mother and me and Jose and his father. But, higher education is becoming increasingly expensive. 

A new report states that one in five households in the United States—compared with one in ten nearly two decades ago—owe student loan debt. In households such as mine, where the heads of household are under 35 years old, the number rises to 40%, over twice the amount (17%) in 1989. Another report indicates that a staggering two-thirds (66%) of four-year college graduates in 2011 had student loan debt, averaging $26,600.

II.

After ten years of higher education and a six-month grace period, the government now wants its money back. I will spend the next ten years paying for my education. On good days, I pretend I am paying for an imaginary Land Rover. On bad days, when I think about owning a house or having a baby, I consider my student loans—along with my wife’s law school debt—and wonder what we could have done differently. The answer is “not much.” We believed in the promise of higher education, and we borrowed what we needed, not what we wanted. 

My wife and I are now members of a growing cohort of individuals with unwieldy student loan debt. That cohort ranges from those who earned graduate degrees and are now underemployed and struggle to repay their loans to others who dropped out after two semesters of undergrad because they could not afford to pay for remedial classes and are now unemployed and in debt. 

How much should students mortgage today for the potential of tomorrow? We can no longer assume the promise outweighs the cost. 

The upcoming presidential election will determine a lot about the future of higher education and our country. For a summary of the differences between the candidates, see an article published during Education Nation. In short, President Obama wants to increase regulation. Governor Romney wants to provide choice. During the first debate, Romney declared, “The private market and individual responsibility always work best.”

To maintain the integrity of hope in higher education and stay another financial crisis in our country, I ask both candidates what they plan to do to create new pathways to college and away from debt.

P. Diddy, education, and opportunity

Randall F. Clemens

A few weeks ago, Sean "Diddy" Combs’ son earned a $54,000 athletic scholarship to UCLA. The news sparked a debate about college access and the redistribution of wealth. Even, Bill O’Reilly commented

What responsibility does a person whose net worth is nearly one half of a billion dollars have to education as a public good? Does the son of a media mogul really need a merit-based scholarship from a fiscally strapped state school?

Student debt is a hot topic right now, and there are multiple angles to approach the controversy. Some have argued Combs’ son should decline his scholarship, even though he earned it. Financial aid is largely a zero sum enterprise, and Combs' scholarship deprives another student of an opportunity.

I have also heard individuals suggest that all college athletes who go pro should repay their scholarships after graduation. This, to me, seems like the murkiest argument. One former graduate of USC said he tried to get his teammates to repay their athletic scholarships; they scoffed, but he did not explain why. I think it is fair to assume that they felt they earned every penny of their scholarships. How many millions of dollars do universities make from student-athletes? How much will UCLA benefit from having a Diddy attend the school? How much do wealthy alumni donate? Moreover, given our expanding knowledge about football and brain damage, is trading scholarships for the increased likelihood of short and long-term injuries—e.g. trauma, depression, and dementia—ethical? 

When I read about P. Diddy’s son, I immediately thought of a recent interview between Hannah Storm and Kobe Bryant. The notoriously cantankerous phenom talked about maturing as a player and person. He started a charity that has focused on improving the lives of those in need. He discussed the stark contrast that occurred during and after games at the Staples Center. One moment he was surrounded by affluent individuals spending up to $1,500 on tickets to a basketball game and the next he was driving past homeless individuals on Skid Row who were scrounging for a few dollars to buy food. 

If everyone just pitched in a little, he said, we could change lives.

Education is a public good from which we all benefit. What responsibility does a media mogul have to supporting public education? What responsibility do you or I have?

Providing opportunities to learn

Randall F. Clemens

Annette Lareau, in her classic book Unequal Childhoods, develops the concept of concerted cultivation, the targeted development and socialization of children through experiences and activities. She argues that concerted cultivation—as opposed to natural growth—is a key parenting strategy. It is a concept that is so popular, in part, because it makes sense. For my dissertation, I build on Lareau’s work to discuss concerted cultivation across the neighborhood.

A key difference between high and low achievers is what they do during the first three hours after school. For the highest achievers, this time is spent participating in activities that are consistent with concerted cultivation. For the lowest achievers, this time is often spent hanging around with friends, working at a low-skill job, babysitting siblings, or watching television. Each of these activities does little to improve college access.

What can we do to improve college access?

The answer, I believe, is to create extended learning opportunities (ELOs). The National Education Association defines ELOs as “a broad range of programs that provide children with academic enrichment and/or supervised activities beyond the tradition school day and, in some cases, beyond the traditional school year” (p. 1). Although ELOs may include traditional after-school programs, they consist of a much larger and more flexible variety of options such as before- and after-school tutoring, internships, and summer enrichment programs. ELOs ought to appeal to district administrators, in part, because of the flexibility of delivery options. Districts or private partners such as non-profit organizations or universities may provide them. 

The findings from my dissertation highlight the value of engaging teenagers immediately before and after school. ELOs provide structured supervision where adults act as mentors and resource brokers. High school is a time when teenagers have more independence, more choices, and are more apt to explore their environment. By enrolling their children in out-of-class activities, parents structure and control their teenager’s behavior and activity. After-school activities not only protect teenagers from getting into trouble but also improve student grades, participation, and self-confidence.

While comprehensive reforms such as the Harlem Children’s Zone are necessary and important, they are also expensive and unlikely during the current recession. ELOs present a practical option to provide access to social and cultural capital and engender college access.

No culture left behind: Moving from intelligence to competence, Part II

Randall F. Clemens

Last week, I discussed the difference between deficit and surplus perspectives in education. A surplus of cultures exists in many low-income neighborhoods. And yet, current research, policy, and practice often assume a deficit perspective. 

I argued, instead, that scholars, policymakers, and practitioners ought to consider a surplus perspective. Such a perspective refocuses discussions from what African American and Latino teenagers lack to how the educational system can better leverage extant strengths. It also facilitates a discussion of the types of cultural competencies that the educational system does and does not value. Shifting the discussion from intelligence and innate ability to cultural competencies is an important step to acknowledging the potential of all students.

Today, I would like to provide an example of what I mean by cultural competencies:

Chuck is one of the young men with whom I have had the privilege of working and mentoring throughout my dissertation. He likes to draw, skateboard, and dance. He excels at all three. 

Capitalizing on his networking skills, Chuck forms skateboard and dance groups. One group is named Movable Parts; they use the name to distinguish themselves on YouTube in particular and in media in general. The group is known for “jerkin’,” a style of street dancing. He says, “I taught myself and I watch videos like YouTube that I made, and I enhance my dance moves. I danced on MTV and BET before, and I had little gigs with Snoop Dog and stuff.” 

Chuck parlays YouTube hits into dancing sponsorships in order to receive free clothing. In one video, he competes against a friend. The person who posted the video wrote, “One of the best jerk battles around…Vote or Die…LOL.” The video lasts for seven minutes. The two, who exchange dance moves, perform the battle on a sidewalk in front of a concrete wall decorated with graffiti. After the first exchange, a bell rings and “Round Two” flashes across the screen. A song by two local musicians begins playing. Chuck begins. At the end of his turn, he tosses an imaginary ball in the air and hits it with an imaginary bat. Homerun.

The video receives over 105,122 views and 393 comments. The majority of viewers select Chuck. One writes, “Chuck all day.” Another posts, “Chuck kid go hrd.”

Chuck is example of this sort of creative and entrepreneurial competencies that are not recognized in school. He also has a 1.7 grade point average. When I first met him, Chuck wanted to attend San Jose State, major in fine arts, and join the “Dirty Brushes,” an art club. However, I soon learned that he is ineligible to attend a Cal State or UC because of his poor grades. He will most likely have to go to Santa Monica College for a year and then transfer.

How is it possible that an educational system has failed to capitalize on such obvious talents? Chuck is one of the most creative individuals I have ever met. And yet, by conventional educational measures, he does not qualify to attend a Cal State.

If we are to address the gross inequalities occurring in schools today, it is time to acknowledge the cultural mismatch between the competencies students possess and what the educational system values.

No culture left behind: Moving from intelligence to competence

Randall F. Clemens

In education, scholars, practitioners, and policymakers often espouse a deficit cultural perspective to explain academic success and failure; students who succeed exemplify a mainstream culture whereas students who fail represent an oppositional culture. Unfortunately, by “blaming the victim,” such arguments echo previous culture of poverty debates, reinforce stereotypes, and do little to move us forward. 

My dissertation examines the lives of African American and Latino teenagers in a low-income neighborhood. Summarizing my argument in one sentence, we ought to consider a surplus cultural perspective. 

Culture is vibrant, and cultural variation occurs as a result of a range of compositional factors such as race, class, ethnicity, educational attainment, and access to and quality of institutions. As a result, a surplus of cultures exists in neighborhoods in cities like Los Angeles, Washington D.C., and Brooklyn. 

A surplus perspective illustrates the cultural mismatch occurring between what students possess and what our educational system values. We are both failing to harness the strengths of students and de-legitimizing their cultural identities.

Next week, I will use an example to illustrate the cultural mismatch occurring in schools and explain why we ought to shift from conversations about intelligence to cultural competencies.