The firefly lights kept blinking on and off. As we chased their flight through the Washington, D.C., hotel garden, we admired their efforts. Their adult lifespan may last two days to two weeks, but they’ve survived through complete metamorphosis lasting 1.5-2 years. Think about it. Two years of determined struggle to light up for two days.
I paused to reflect on the metaphor this quiet blinking firefly light presented. My State Teacher of the Year colleagues and I enjoyed the relaxing quiet after a few days of work with the Education Commission of the States, together with some of our state governors, legislators, and education policy makers in June. Earlier we had listened to a speaker share, “The Commission MUST stir up trouble and make the body politic itch. It must be unafraid. It must be a blueprint of an architect. It must be responsive to all good ideas. It must take the problems, assemble the best people and seek the answers, whatever they may be.” Consider that firefly light, illuminating in ways different than a spotlight or incandescent bulb, flickering with intense effort to catch your eye.
That is what this past six months as teacher of the year has been for me: an intense effort to shine a light on education. Sometimes I feel the warmth of the glow of hope as I focus on national changes for early learning or states’ changes for testing. Sometimes I feel the flicker go out with the passage of bills such as HB 156, requiring teachers to have their guest speakers first submit their credentials for approval by the school board before they can volunteer to teach school board approved health curriculum.
Fortunately, unlike the lifespan of a firefly, I get to swirl the light a little longer, and hopefully cause enough of an itch in just the right places to help spur change in this field of education.
I understand Gov. Bill Walker is committed to education and “will monitor the bill’s (HB 156) effectiveness in practice,” and that gives me hope. As a teacher in the classroom, I find I have a different view of possible “misunderstandings” than Sens. Peter Micciche or Mike Dunleavy. From the boots-on-the-ground perspective, the local school board already approves the health curriculum, it’s already available for parents and guardians to review, and there is already an opt-out option for families. What this law adds to my workload is to now ask my guest speakers, usually our school nurse, police officer and my students’ family members working in the healthcare profession, to please submit their credentials to the school board at least two weeks prior to volunteering to present with me in my classroom.
I’m still working out how to make that request respectfully.
“Dear Dr. —-, Please submit your credentials to the local school board before you are able to volunteer in your son’s class to help teach the puberty lesson to our 5th grade students. Thank you for your time.” That needs some finessing.
I whole-heartedly agree with Commissioner of Education Michael Johnson’s term that this was indeed an “unfocused piece of legislation.” I understand the benefit to districts to shore up excessive mandatory training and the procurement eased for statewide testing. It will be interesting to see the net-effect of eliminating the 70 percent requirement for budgets to be spent on instruction. I’m curious why this was instated originally, and second, how many districts yearly filed for the exemption waiver? How much of a burden did it actually present? Also, in looking at other states’ budgets, what percentage is spent on instruction in states whose education ratings are favorable? Is there a correlation? In the end, I see the trade off as district administrators no longer have to track this measure or file for a waiver, and instead the burden shifts to the classroom teachers and health guest volunteers to file credentials. It’s definitely an unfocused trade.
In his closing, Sen. Micciche explained to Gov. Walker, “Pragmatic leadership must be based on the actual and concrete rather than legendary and rhetorical special interest perception from either side of the aisle.” I would have thought the “actual and concrete” would refer to those in the actual and concrete practice. I don’t consider the teacher’s voice as a “special interest perception” in this case. Moving forward, I would suggest to Gov. Walker and others involved in creating education policy that it’s important to gain perception from the students, teachers and families effected by the policy.
According to Gallup, “Decisions are made 70% emotional and 30% rational, but do we measure what we value? It turns out content is not king; caring is. What matters most for education, in this order: WHO does the teaching, WHY we teach, HOW we teach it, and finally WHAT we teach.”
Adding the voice of teachers who are currently teaching to the discussion of education policies prior to lawmaking is proving to be beneficial in several states. Some states are creating active teacher advisory panels in collaboration with their State School Boards, their State Deptartment of Education staff, and/or their Legislative Education Committees. It certainly adds to the ability to avoid unintentional consequences. How can Alaska constructively add teacher perspective within the education decision-making process?
Did you know Google doesn’t ask for grades and test scores from prospective employees anymore, because they’ve found they don’t matter in predicting workforce? Hope is a stronger predictor of success than SAT, ACT scores or grades. (credit: GALLUP) I choose hope. As 2015 National Teacher of the Year Shanna Peeples shared at the Education Commission of the States National Forum on Education Policy: “The silver bullet in education: trust our teachers. Ask China, Peru, Finland. It all comes down to trust, hope, joy. Trust is hard; fear is easy. Teachers are the artists of human potential, but more than that, they are warriors of hope.”
Here is my plea to teachers, as warriors of hope, and to those crafting education policy: let’s work together with trust and respect to keep the focused light for our students’ learning burning bright.
Light your story by sharing your voice.
As the firefly shines its light with powered determination, so will I.
Find the hope. Share the joy.
• Amy Jo Meiners lives in Juneau and was selected as the 2016 Alaska Teacher of the Year.
