This morning, I read an editorial from the New York Times editorial staff in my pajamas. How they got in my pajamas, I don’t know:

The No Child Left Behind Act of 2002 was supposed to create clear, reliable data that told parents how local schools stacked up against schools elsewhere in the nation. It has not worked that way, thanks in part to timidity at the Department of Education, which initially allowed states to phony up even the most basic data on graduation rates. Education Secretary Margaret Spellings took a welcome step in the right direction by issuing new rules for how those rates are calculated.

By the 2012-13 school year, states will have to use the generally accepted way of computing their dropout rate. That means tracking students from the day they enter high school until the day they receive regular diplomas, counting as nongraduates those who leave without the diploma. This method was endorsed three years ago by the National Governors Association, which realized that accurate graduation rates were a vital indicator of how well the schools were doing.

Had the federal government led the way on this issue instead of waiting to see how the wind was blowing the country would already have built a sound data collection system.

Were they waiting to see how the wind was blowing? Or were they simply waiting until they were almost out of office?

Let’s be clear. The Bush administration did not simply “allow” states to falsify their dropout rates; they led the charge. George W. Bush ran in 2000 on the “Houston Miracle” in education, where Superintendent Rod Paige was able to raise test scores and lower dropout rates. Paige became the first Secretary of Education in the Bush White House.

Unfortunately, the “Houston Miracle” turned out to be a scam, which was eventually debunked by, among others, Bill Moyers and 60 Minutes:

All in all, 463 kids left Sharpstown High School that year, for a variety of reasons. The school reported zero dropouts, but dozens of the students did just that. School officials hid that fact by classifying, or coding, them as leaving for acceptable reasons: transferring to another school, or returning to their native country.

“That’s how you get to zero dropouts. By assigning codes that say, ‘Well, this student, you know, went to another school. He did this or that.’ And basically, all 463 students disappeared. And the school reported zero dropouts for the year,” says Kimball. “They were not counted as dropouts, so the school had an outstanding record.”

Sharpstown High wasn’t the only “outstanding” school. The Houston school district reported a citywide dropout rate of 1.5 percent. But educators and experts 60 Minutes checked with put Houston’s true dropout rate somewhere between 25 and 50 percent.

“But the teachers didn’t believe it. They knew it was cooking the books. They told me that. Parents told me that,” says Kimball. “The superintendent of schools would make the public believe it was one school. But it is in the system, it is in all of Houston.”

The political ramifications of this should be obvious. The school system is pressured by the politicians to fake the numbers, and the very same politicians get to run on an excellent record of educational reform.

So what happens when the fraud is finally elimated and the statistics start to reflect reality? We’re going to see a massive rise in high school dropout rates. This will not reflect actual high school students dropping out in larger numbers, but rather a change in the way such things are measured. And it’s all set to happen by 2012, when the next president, likely a Democrat, is running for re-election. And the story will be about that president’s dismal record on education, with a chilling statistic about rises in high-school dropout rates during that president’s term.

I agree that the formula needs to be fixed, and the Times is correct that the administration waited too long to do it. But I don’t think the Times editorial goes far enough in outlining the true consequences of the timing, appearing even to praise Spellings for taking this “welcome step in the right direction” which will cost her and her boss a total of nothing, and will likely help the Republican candidate in 2012.

Clay Shirky has a posting well worth reading about the changing nature of how we spend our time. You should really read the whole thing, but I think his point is well summed up by his reaction to a television producer when he was explaining to her how Wikipedia works:

So I tell her all this stuff, and I think, “Okay, we’re going to have a conversation about authority or social construction or whatever.” That wasn’t her question. She heard this story and she shook her head and said, “Where do people find the time?” That was her question. And I just kind of snapped. And I said, “No one who works in TV gets to ask that question. You know where the time comes from. It comes from the cognitive surplus you’ve been masking for 50 years.”

So how big is that surplus? So if you take Wikipedia as a kind of unit, all of Wikipedia, the whole project–every page, every edit, every talk page, every line of code, in every language that Wikipedia exists in–that represents something like the cumulation of 100 million hours of human thought. I worked this out with Martin Wattenberg at IBM; it’s a back-of-the-envelope calculation, but it’s the right order of magnitude, about 100 million hours of thought.

And television watching? Two hundred billion hours, in the U.S. alone, every year. Put another way, now that we have a unit, that’s 2,000 Wikipedia projects a year spent watching television. Or put still another way, in the U.S., we spend 100 million hours every weekend, just watching the ads. This is a pretty big surplus. People asking, “Where do they find the time?” when they’re looking at things like Wikipedia don’t understand how tiny that entire project is, as a carve-out of this asset that’s finally being dragged into what Tim calls an architecture of participation.

The producer still just thought it all a fad, but Shirky would soon have an experience that’s hard to dismiss.

I was having dinner with a group of friends about a month ago, and one of them was talking about sitting with his four-year-old daughter watching a DVD. And in the middle of the movie, apropos nothing, she jumps up off the couch and runs around behind the screen. That seems like a cute moment. Maybe she’s going back there to see if Dora is really back there or whatever. But that wasn’t what she was doing. She started rooting around in the cables. And her dad said, “What you doing?” And she stuck her head out from behind the screen and said, “Looking for the mouse.”

Here’s something four-year-olds know: A screen that ships without a mouse ships broken. Here’s something four-year-olds know: Media that’s targeted at you but doesn’t include you may not be worth sitting still for. Those are things that make me believe that this is a one-way change. Because four year olds, the people who are soaking most deeply in the current environment, who won’t have to go through the trauma that I have to go through of trying to unlearn a childhood spent watching Gilligan’s Island, they just assume that media includes consuming, producing and sharing.

The thing is that this change in our culture is more than just about our attitudes towards media or technology. Students are going to be coming to school expecting a more self-directed, interactive form of learning than we’ve been giving them. They won’t wait to be given permission to publish their writing or participate in their democracy. We need to make sure that school is a place where they can learn to acquire information more efficiently and express themselves more effectively, not a place where they are stifled in their attempts to do so.

I don’t think we’re quite there yet.

Click on the link below and you will see the video for Rick Astley’s “Never Gonna Give You Up” on YouTube.

Rick Astley Video

Did you do it? You’ve been Rickrolled, sucka!

Happy April Fools Day.

UPDATE: Okay, I’m told that you’re not supposed to tell someone that you’re Rickrolling them. So click the “Rick Astley Video” link above, but pretend like you don’t know what it’s going to be. (But it really is the Rick Astley video.)

Did you do it? You’ve been Rickrolled, sucka!

The word of the week is smarter.

That links to the word “smart” but I deliberately chose the comparative form. Here it is in context:

Are You Smarter Than A 5th Grader?

Forgetting that the show in question tests knowledge and not intelligence, it may seem at face value to be a very silly question to ask in the first place. I would, however, argue that it is completely nonsensical, based on what we now understand about human intelligence. Making glib statements about who is smarter than whom ignores the wide range of ways that people can be smart.

In 1905, Alfred Binet, a French psychologist, created a diagnostic test to identify students who needed extra help in school. It was the misapplication of this test that led to the highly-flawed concept of IQ. Over the past century, the IQ has been used for purposes that range from merely misguided to downright ugly. For more on that, read The Mismeasure of Man by Stephen Jay Gould.

We really need to get past the idea that intelligence is something that can be ranked in a linear manner. In his landmark 1983 book Frames of Mind, Howard Gardner makes a case for the Theory of Multiple Intelligences, the theory that there are distinct and identifiable areas of intelligence that exist in the human mind, that are “independent of one another, and that … can be fashioned and combined in a multiplicity of adaptive ways by individuals and cultures.” Gardner identifies seven such intelligences, though he allows for the possibility that there may be others, and the conversation surrounding various other possible intelligences continues today. His original seven — Linguistic, Musical, Logical-Mathematical, Spatial, Bodily-Kinesthetic, and the two personal intelligences commonly referred to as Interpersonal and Intrapersonal — have gained wide acceptance among learning theorists and educators in the field.

And yet, as a system, we still judge student achievement solely from test scores in literacy and math, and cling to IQ as a meaningful measurement of a person’s intelligence.

After everything we’ve learned about the human mind, we should be smarter than that.

I’ve been troubled for some time about the careless use of certain words in public discourse. In some cases, it’s pure laziness about language. In other cases, words can be twisted as a deliberate obfuscation or to reframe the terms of debate.

With this feature, I intend to reclaim for the English language and civilized discourse a few of the words that have been hijacked for political and/or other nefarious purposes. I’m thinking that this will be a weekly feature to replace the old Headline Game on Wednesdays.

The word of the week is support.

Here it is in context:

Ryan Gill, operations director for Move America Forward, said he disliked the anti-war groups’ strategy and said groups like his that support the war and especially support the troops didn’t plan on adding to Wednesday’s “circus atmosphere.”

Do you support the war in Iraq?

Before you answer, ask yourself what it means to support the war. Does it mean that you are rooting for our side to win? Does it mean that you think the war was a good idea? Does it mean that you think we should keep our troops there longer? Does it mean that your tax dollars are paying for the war? Each of these meanings could be intended by “support the war” and yet we use the term like it has a uniform meaning for everyone.

I was against the war from the beginning. I am not in favor of pulling our troops out immediately. I am not in favor of leaving our troops there for a hundred years. My tax dollars most certainly are paying for the war. I would like us to be successful there. I think President Bush is not a good president. I am disappointed by those on the left who seem to gloat over failures in Iraq. I am disappointed by those on the right who use successes in Iraq to attack the patriotism of those on the left. I am in awe of the bravery of our troops and want them to succeed in their mission and come home safely.

So with all that in mind, do I support the war?

The word has a different meaning in “support the troops” as it does in “support the president’s policy” and the current administration has a huge stake in using language like “support the war” which seems to conflate the two. Let’s stop doing that.

And reading back over this post, I can see already that “war” needs to go on the Word of the Week list. Yeah, this needs to be a regular feature. We’ll see how it goes, but I’ll probably keep this going at least through the election. Things are going to get very silly, very soon. Words will be used as weapons, and we need to stay vigilant.

I invite my readers to take this awareness test and discuss in the comments:

You can say anything you want:

For hundreds of years, people have questioned whether William Shakespeare wrote the plays that bear his name. The mystery is fueled by the fact that his biography simply doesn’t match the areas of knowledge and skill demonstrated in the plays. Nearly a hundred candidates have been suggested, but none of them fit much better. Now a new candidate named Amelia Bassano Lanier – the so-called ‘Dark Lady’ of the Sonnets and a member of an Italian/Jewish family – has been shown to be a perfect fit.

Via the Shakespeare Geek, who is kind enough to suspect that the whole thing is a put on.

It’s been a while since we’ve had a Question of the Week. Fans of the site may recall that the Question of the Week was originally inspired by the Edge Foundation’s annual question, asked to leading thinkers. This year, their question is “What have you changed your mind about? Why?”

For me, I’d have to go with Wikipedia. When I first heard about the open source encyclopedia, I scoffed. It was one thing for the Internet to allow anyone to post their opinions, but quite another to trust the general public to get encyclopedia-style facts right. Without authors putting their names on their work, the information would be worthless.

But as I started using Wikipedia, I found it to be an invaluable resource. I assured myself that I wasn’t really using it, only using it as a casual reference. But over time, I was surprised to find it a source I could rely on. Of course, it’s not always accurate, and I still couldn’t see myself actually citing it as a source in a publication, but it’s way more reliable than any of us would have had a right to expect.

The tipping point for me was reading Lies My Teacher Told Me: Everything Your American History Textbook Got Wrong by James W. Loewen. I was expecting this to be a madcap trivia book of fun facts about American history that never made the textbook. Not so much, no. Instead, it was a detailed historiography of twelve American history textbooks and how they knowingly distort and obfuscate their subject matter. After that, I could no longer consider Wikipedia to be inferior to the textbooks we’ve been giving students all this time. I would actually trust a fact in Wikipedia over one in a textbook if they were in conflict.

But it’s not just facts; Wikipedia is also superior when it comes to point-of-view. I laughed at their value-neutral philosophy, because such a thing isn’t possible. At least, it’s not possible where there’s a single author. But in the negotiated definitions of Wikipedia, there is a natural balance of viewpoints that really gives the readers a sense of the range of opinions on a particular issue, often just as valuable (if not more so) than the dry facts. Even fake controversies seem to be quickly expunged from its pages.

I’ve changed my mind about Wikipedia. How about you?

What have you changed your mind about? Why?

Bing Miller put me on his meme list, which is kind of like the blog version of a chain letter.

Post a picture or make/take/create your own that captures what YOU are most passionate about for kids to learn about and give your picture a short title.
Title your blog post “Meme: Passion Quilt” and link back to this blog entry.
Include links to 5 folks in your professional learning network

So I’ve thought about it, and I decided to go with this image of the Globe theatre stage.

Totus Mundus Agit Histrionem

I want my students to understand that they can be performers in the world and not just audience members. I want them to understand that they can write things that affect other people. I want them to know they can have a voice in the world. I want them to learn that they way things are now isn’t the way things have always been, so they can understand that things don’t always have to be the way they are now.

My title is “Totus Mundus Agit Histrionem.” All the world’s a stage.

I invite Benjamin, Kenneth, Lee, Mike, and Ro to continue the conversation if it would please them to do so.