by
Caroline Brumfield
| Oct 03, 2022
If We’re Going to Close Gaps, We Need to Rethink Schedules and Calendar Systems
Remember that time when the COVID pandemic punched the world in the face? Remember when it brought society to its knees? Screeched a fast-paced world to a halt? Stopped an infallible public education delivery model in its tracks, thus further exposing the gaps in the system?
At the same time, do you remember when equity became the word? And the word became the focus? And the focus became a call to action? Like with COVID, no industry (rightly so) was untouched by the equity movement. But let’s reflect on that for a moment through the lens of the public education system. Despite years of professional learning about equity and the establishment of entirely new equity roles and departments, has all this talk turned into our walk? I’m not quite sold.
Has our system, as a whole, improved or do we look just about the same as we did before the big equity movement with pockets of excellence instead of a system of excellence? Do the gaps still persist, dependent on student zip code? Have we all become (and do we sound) smarter about what we need to do to truly redesign a student-centered system, but just haven’t done it yet? I think we can answer that question with just a few examples, but we need to start with some definitions.
Are We Closing Gaps, or Chasing Buzzwords?
Educators are masters at creating and using buzzwords. We are so good at chasing these buzzwords that we have coined our own medical condition called “initiative fatigue.” I would describe that fatigue as “the loss of adult will to try another new thing that might help kids.” In other words, for decades -- and I mean decades – our answer to improving the public education system has been the adoption of new shiny, expensive, repackaged initiatives. The next best thing with big short-term promises and no long-term accountability.
What are we trying to address? The gaps. Another buzzword. But what gaps specifically? The most commonly referred to gap is the achievement gap thanks to federal and state testing. You’ve probably also heard people referring to the learning gap thanks to COVID. But is that it? Of course not. In the name of buzzword chasing, we’ve spent and adopted millions to address the access, opportunity, expectation, hope, and relationship gaps, just to name a few. And again, I ask, are we walking our talk? Are we any better for it?
Of course we are, but our work is far from over. We’ve worked tirelessly through the education reform movement (another buzzword) to define what it is we expect our students to know and be able to do (Content Standards). Then, we completely disrupted the system in order to test their knowledge (Smarter Balanced Assessments). We’ve hammered home what good teaching and learning should look, sound, and feel like (Instructional Frameworks). And finally, we’ve spent oodles of hours improving the professional growth and evaluation cycle (TPEP).
What are We Missing?
After all these massive initiatives, shouldn’t we be awesome? Shouldn’t we have the highest post-secondary persistence and completion rates in the country?
Well, we don’t. In fact, Washington, despite being the home of some of the most influential Fortune 500 companies in the world, sits in the bottom quartile compared to other states. And when you hear that, it just doesn’t seem possible. And, when you think about that coupled with the last decade of massive initiatives and system-overhaul, it seems even more impossible. So, what’s the answer? Maybe it’s time for us to address the barriers to change instead of adding more shiny initiatives and next “good” ideas? Instead of more unfunded legislative mandates, perhaps we should talk about the elephant in the room.
I don’t know about you, but it’s been exciting to see the smiles on the faces of our students as we’ve kicked off the school year this fall. Seeing and hearing about open houses, transition activities, in-person conferences, class meetings, and school culture-building pep assemblies. Bringing back all the systems that help our students, adults, and communities connect with each other outside of a 2-inch virtual square. I’m full of hope as the plexiglass comes down and the hallways fill up. I’m looking forward to the full return to our schools. However, what I’m not looking forward to is dropping right back into the system that started the equity conversation to begin with. This is our chance to address the final frontier of education reform: time.
It’s About Time
We wonder why our “gaps” persist despite massive reform efforts and millions of dollars. We scratch our heads even more as fewer high school students are considering higher education. We blame parents for dropping enrollment and shopping for alternatives to public education. Well, I’m sorry, but the only ones we can blame are ourselves because over time we’ve changed everything in the system except for time itself. We continue to expect our students, families, and communities to fit into our definition of time. It’s time for time to change.
If we truly want to put equity into action, then perhaps we should consider redefining time throughout the system. How do we define an instructional “period,” a school day, the week, a month, or heaven forbid, the entire school calendar? We love our 180-day calendar so much that we’ve allowed that alone to drive the entire system for decades (the calendar, funding, collective bargaining, etc.) and subsequently blind us to new ways of thinking and doing. It is deeply entrenched and built around the needs of the adults working in the system, not our families we are trying to serve. That is the elephant.
Rethinking our Schedules
Why are 62% of the high schools in our state (90% of the largest schools) still using a traditional 6-period day schedule? Why is an entire district day built around the bus schedule? Why is the school day only during “the day?” Why is there typically only one schedule for families to choose? Why do we have a new buzzword called “Summer Melt” instead of melting the summer? Why does a student have to take a whole year of Algebra if they can master it in one trimester? Why do the littles start later, and the older students start early? Why do we have contract language that limits time instead of making time unlimited? As you can see, I have so many questions and not enough time.
It Takes Time to Change Time
Our state has 295 school districts and thousands of schools representing a wide array of communities and contexts. Regardless of those contexts, time is what unites us all. Time will be the factor that keeps us wondering why our gaps persist or how our students thrive in the future. We can ignore this giant elephant in the room or we can address it. Time will always be the most difficult system to change in the world of education. Tackling big rocks like the school calendar, funding models, collective bargaining, and the hours in the day will take a common purpose, a clear why, consistent shared leadership, and student-centered thinking. It is not easy. And, ironically, it takes time. It will take a group of adults and their students, a five-year vision of what is best for each and every student, and what is possible in a district, to make it happen. Without that, the gaps for our students will continue, as well as even more initiative fatigue.
Will you be the leader that puts equity in action? Will you walk the talk? Will you commit the time required to change time? I hope so. Future students are counting on you. They don’t have the luxury of time.