Too Fast
for Conditions
By Dr. Ryan Donlan
Assistant Professor
Department of Educational
Leadership
Bayh College of Education
Indiana State University
Under pressure to reach our destinations
in K-12, we travel with others who are heading the same direction. How fast should we go?
For the most part, we travel a similar
speed, or at least within a standard deviation from the mean, it seems. Our speed limit and even its minimum are for
the most part, set. We’ll pass folks here
and there, and at times … we’ll be passed.
The legalities, norms, and folkways are generally respected, as we have shared
expectations under which we operate. It’s
just the way we roll.
As a profession, we indirectly encourage
each other to comply with a K-12 speed limit as we travel from August to June. We start and end at around the same time, attend
the same meetings, listen to the same performance expectations, share
instructional pacing strategies, and as metaphor would suggest … listen to the
beat of the same radio station while traveling.
Critics would argue, “Easy-Listening,” although I’m not sure that’s
really fair, given how hard we work.
Yet despite new genres and artists, many in
education still listen to melodies that take us back to when we were in
school. Some even drive their fathers’ Oldsmobile’s
-- creatures of habit, if not history. Willard Daggett once stated, “The
problem is not that schools are not what they used to be; it’s that they are”
(Daggett, 2004).
A few examples: Running schools when
adults are most alert, not the children … sorting students by same-age grade
levels … making children start an entire grade over if they fall short of
expectations. The latter is sort of
like starting again in Indiana if our car runs out of gas in Nevada, on the way
to California.
Those are our practices. What is interesting is that we still find
them as normal … acceptable.
Further …
We anxiously await test results that arrive
at the sound of an alarm clock, perennially. Encouraged to do things the way things “should
be done,” we operate in an arena where outliers are dis-incentivized; transparency
is unsettling.
I’m actually a proponent of “outlier
behavior.” What troubles me is that we are
not giving equal credence to efforts on both ends of the speed-limit spectrum
for efforts in programmatic improvement.
We seem to value speed over slowness.
We seem to value seat time over skill
development.
At least we behave that way.
In doing so, we oftentimes unintentionally
vilify tortoises over that of hares. Cohort-based
graduation rate sanctions are one example, for those who don’t complete in a
timely fashion. Tortoises that show success are not provided ample credit, as
it happens too slowly for those enacting minimum speed limits.
At the same time, hares that show success
may be glorified and encouraged to sport their wares for potential replication,
even among dissimilar contexts. Programmatic commercials are produced for best-practice
gatherings. Participation in the audience
is, at times, mandatory for the tortoises, those purportedly needing technical
assistance.
Mainstream thought defines schools too
slow as “failing” -- teachers too slow as
“lazy” -- students too slow as “unmotivated” -- families too slow as “uninvolved”
-- leaders too slow as “not up to the challenge.” In this context, one hare’s commercial
becomes another tortoise’s entrée on a cafeteria plan of school reform.
Have we considered the inherent risks of
trading methodical pace for moving too quickly?
With hares, a problem exists that is more
pernicious than a tortoise’s “slow and steady.” It involves the notion of Driving Too Fast for Conditions.
Driving too fast for conditions can have
real consequences, not just a matter of raising the ire of those who desire a
more comfortable speed. It can impact
immediate lives, inconveniencing a good many, while impairing entire systems
designed for smooth travel.
Consider what can happen in moving too
fast:
Impaired visibility can impinge upon our
ability to see danger that lies ahead. When not able to see what we are
approaching, we can hit an obstruction that would allow us time to act if we
were traveling more slowly. This could have a pinball effect.
Decreased traction can cause us to lose
our footing, with the resultant instability causing us to veer off course,
possibly colliding with something we cannot avoid. A potential pinball effect could
result here as well.
On the roadways, impaired visibility and
decreased traction can cause loss of life.
In K-12, impaired visibility and decreased traction can cause loss of
livelihood and learning.
What about the “conditions”? What variable helps us define speed that is
simply “too fast”?
Conditions in education involve the
contexts in which we do what we are being asked to do. When pressure is on to perform, the conditions
are more tenuous -- we experience the metaphorical equivalent of hail, sleet,
or snow. Smart folks slow down and proceed cautiously. Others blow by us at a
high rate of speed, causing a temporary reduction in visibility for all around.
Our better leaders possess both talent and
skill in defensive driving. They know the
speed to select given conditions presented, to maximize control. This is not “playing defense,” by any means –
it is simply a safer way to deploy a smart offense.
I pose this as a prelude to a
conversation in what we value … and what we should consider valuing, as we
define success in K-12. Should we value
the quickest path to increased student achievement?
I recently returned home from a trip
out-of-state after traveling 45 miles per hour on a 70 mile-per-hour expressway. I made it home a bit later than I
anticipated, late for dinner even, but I was still able to enjoy the warmth of
a reheated meal, the company of my wife and children, and the reflections of a
trip well traveled. I’m not sure that
all those whom I saw in the ditch along the way can say the same.
I acknowledge that a few who drove my
route at 70 miles per hour were hugging their children even earlier than
I. I’m sure they ate on time and
probably begrudged me for my slower speed as they passed [I understand sign
language].
Even with timely completion of their trips,
I don’t use define their exploits as exemplary.
Conversely, I think they were reckless, not at all the standard bearers
of how to travel from point A to point B in the conditions we experienced. They may have even run others off the
road.
I think of a family on Interstate 69 climbing
out of the top, actually the side (situated on top), of an overturned
vehicle. Do our slower moving students
feel this way, after teachers blow through a text chapter on their way toward readiness for yet another standardized
test?
I wonder how often a “too fast for
conditions” is calculated before we put on a pedestal those who finish first in
K-12. How often are circumstantial conditions factored-in as the alarm clock
rings on our perennial worth?
We might instead consider taking a more
careful look, over time, at what constitutes successful K-12 travel and completion,
considering more the conditions that interfere with learning and those who
finish safely, more often.
References
Daggett, W. (2004,
June). America’s most successful high
schools: What makes them work. Conference Presentation, 2004 Model Schools
Conference, Washington, D.C.
_____________________________________________________________
Dr. Ryan Donlan is a fan of
those who resist the temptation and pressure to sprint, leap, and react quickly
to changing mandates, moving targets, and shifting circumstances in
education. If you are a fan of taking a
pause to prudently gauge a next step, please feel free to say “HI” to Dr.
Donlan anytime by calling (812) 237-8624 or writing him at ryan.donlan@indstate.edu. He would enjoy your company and support.