The Utah State Board of Education, in tandem with the state legislature, have a new answer to the shortage of Utah teachers: a bachelor's degree and a test are sufficient qualifications for being a teacher. I have some thoughts about this recent decision, but it requires some context. Additionally, this is a very long read, so I don't blame you if you don't finish it. Well....maybe a little. But not enough to hurt our friendship. Probably.
ARLs and Endorsements
Teaching is a tricky career, and not all teachers start out wanting to be in the classroom. Fortunately, there are alternatives for people to become licensed teachers who come from this camp. We have a handful of possibilities, but the two I want to focus on are ARLs (Alternative Routes to Licensure) and endorsements. Both already require the bachelor's degree as the minimum requirement, and since that doesn't change in the new law, we'll set that aside as a commonality.
As additional context, however, here's a quick breakdown for what an educational degree gets the would-be teacher. This stems from my personal experience going through the educational program 10 years ago, so some changes in current practices should be expected. Nevertheless, this gives you a baseline for where I'm coming from.
- Classes on legalities, including Title IX, 504, and IEP expectations and ethics.
- Classes on educational theory, learning basic psychologies and psychological theories, including educational mainstays like Piaget and Vygotsky. Child development and child psychology are also covered.
- Classes on pedagogy, including extensive training on what to do to manage a classroom and students.
- Classes about multicultural expectations and sensitivity.
- Classes on how to teach reading and writing within the content area (for example, how to help students read their math book).
These classes (and more) are supplemented by frequent classroom observations, which require would-be teacher to observe sundry types of classrooms and different teachers, gleaning techniques, learning styles, and other useful information so that they can make an informed decision about which level they ought to teach and what the pros and cons of each grade, school, and district is. While a desperation for a job might lead a teacher to pick something that isn't a perfect fit, these observational activities are useful in mitigating poor choices.
ARLs
These are built around the concept that a school needs a particular subject to be taught, but the best candidate doesn't have the official license to teach from the state board. By signing up with the district or school, an ARL educator agrees to pursue the training they missed by not going to the college of education at their university. This means that the teacher teaches classes during the day, then must sacrifice time, family experiences, and (often) sleep to attend night classes and other online courses. The essentials of the teaching discipline are therefore pursued intellectually while the teacher is implementing the best practices possible practically.
I have been planning on being a teacher since I was 15 years old, so I didn't look at other options for my career: I graduated with my teaching license and my bachelor's at the same time. However, one of my best friends--both at the school and in my life--is an ARL instructor. His experience was not that of a person having no other options and deciding that a teaching life would suffice, as he already had had some teaching experience at the university level. Still, university freshmen and high school freshmen are quite different, and he participated in the ARL program. He didn't find it particularly useful, though others have.
His personal experience notwithstanding, the point is that an ARL acknowledges that not everyone can access a career in education in the same way. The benefits of ARL are obvious: If someone wants to be a teacher, and the cons of the career aren't out of the question, schools have a larger pool of potential hires. The greater options, the better chance a school has of finding a mentor to students that augments the vision of the school and provides a contribution to the educational community.
But ARLs aren't without their risks. I've met a number of them in my time. Most that I've known have tried teaching for the grace period--the amount of time a would-be educator has before having to enroll in the ARL program--and then, when faced with the idea of doing additional work to continue working with students, decided to pursue other career options.
My take on that is that, while not ideal, ARL is a worthwhile tool that ought to be part of the hiring possibilities a district or school can consider. It provides some additional context and training that might otherwise be missed, removes the incentive for those not committed to the classroom to attempt a career, and creates a broader pool from which schools can potentially hire. I think as far as compromise goes, it's perfect: all parties leave mad. Purists can be disgruntled that those some come into the field through a different direction than they; ARL-adherents can be disgruntled that they have to pay money to keep their jobs and have to take classes that may or may not pertain to their real lives (and relish the irony of that idea, while you're at it).
Endorsements
These are the a la carte add-ons to the educational platter. I got my degree in English Education from UVU. I student taught in an English 10 classroom and a Mythology 12 classroom. My Methods in Teaching class (which, unlike other disciplines, was two courses long, instead of one) was entirely focused on learning and implementing the English core standards (which, of course, have recently changed). When I walked out of the McKay Events Center (and off to the hospital where my wife and newborn son were waiting for me), I had a diploma in hand that let me teach English anywhere in Utah any grade from 6 to 12.
Once I scored my current job, I had to apply for an endorsement program. Why? Well, my job--which I took because of desperation and because it seemed like a school with a similar vision for what education ought to look like--needed me to teach a combined course in Language Arts 10 and World Civilization II. As a result, I had to go back to school--night school and online courses--for a number of years to get my endorsement. (I ended up spending more money for college to keep my job than I had to earn my degree in the first place.)
This additional schooling was enough to act as a minor in history, except I had to take a Methods in Teaching Social Studies course in lieu of a final history credit. As you might imagine, that much additional training was absolutely worthwhile. I gained a greater insight into the topics I was teaching, learned new techniques, and have made--I like to think--a lasting impression on my students thanks to the information that I learned from those classes.
The endorsement differs by being the ARL in reverse: An ARL recipient has content knowledge, but less educational theory; an endorsement recipient has educational theory that needs content knowledge augmentation. Both can be in effect while the teacher has and maintains the teaching job, thus allowing the teacher to become better via the additional work and training. This sort of thing ought to be encouraging from the point of view of someone going into the field, as it means that there are ways of growing and improving while holding down a steady job.
Much like an ARL, it would be preferable that the content knowledge be fully set before the teacher steps into the classroom, so it ends up being another great compromise.
The downside, of course, is in the day-to-day. My early classes were a train wreck in terms of content knowledge. I openly admit that much of it was less accurate, defined, or helpful than it ought to have (or could have) been. Students will always suffer if their teacher is in someway unprepared. Earning my endorsement has helped diminish that suffering as much as possible. To further help their learning, I'm in a perpetual state of wanting to know more about my content area. Because of a natural alacrity toward English, I don't study grammar books as often as I used to, but I find great insight and help by studying the past. Reading history books was never something I thought I would find as satisfying, yet...here I am
The New Law
That is a lot of context for a pretty straightforward conclusion, but I hope it's been worthwhile: I'm against this new law.
I tried to demonstrate that we have compromise systems in place that allow those who wish to teach ways in. They aren't ideal or perfect, but our educational system is broken in a lot of areas, and these compromise tactics help mitigate the areas they're designed to mitigate.
So why am I against the new law? Two reasons: It's a bastardizing of the ARL program (which we already have) that fails to address the actual issue of teacher retention; and it relies on a test as proof.
Praxis Sucks
I'll tackle the second objection first: The test that teachers are required to pass before being awarded their licenses is, in the state of Utah, a privately run test called the Praxis. (I'm not linking it because I don't like them and I don't want to give them website traffic.) It is a standardized test that is designed to measure the competency of a teacher within a content area (the Praxis II test, which varies per discipline) and their understanding of pedagogy in the form of Praxis III (which I believe they're changing around now, but it is essentially the same thing).
Now, I hate the Praxis. Part of it is a philosophical objection: I dislike the idea that private sector solutions to public sector needs is a default position. I don't know that a USBE solution would be superior, but it drives me insane that I have to pay hundreds of dollars to a private company so that I can do my job. I distrust their motives, I hate to see people who aren't educators profiting off of education, and I think that their test is, in and of itself, poorly coordinated, written, and executed. Standardized tests do best at measuring how well a person can take the standardized test, and, having seen some teachers who "know their content" in the classroom, it's obvious that the scores are maybe a step away from being inconsequential. I acknowledge that there are reasons why the test is used, but my suspicion is that most of the reasons have to do with money. It is somewhat insulting to think that the USBE uses Praxis because it can't afford to build its own test--in essence, to do its own work--yet expects the grossly underpaid Utah* teachers to foot the bill themselves.
But maybe I'm missing a crucial piece. I don't know.
Anyway, the new law proposes that the candidate be qualified for a teaching job upon graduating, provided the person had paid for and passed the Praxis test, presumably in her content area (which is redundant, if they've graduated in that content area...another reason I hate the Praxis on principle).
If nothing else, it should be apparent that if it's no longer a criterion for the candidate to have pedagogy training, she shouldn't be expected to take the Praxis III test. The ARL and endorsement pathways (both of which have Praxis tests at the end of them) now become worthless, as they cost more, require more effort, and can get a person the same job. It seems like the legislators who dreamed this up (or, if we want to put on our tinfoil hats, were lobbied to think this way) were interested in eroding whatever workable programs we had for one that doesn't guarantee teacher quality, commitment, or capacity, but instead focuses on flooding the hiring pools with warm bodies--question marks where even a standard among the candidates can no longer be guaranteed.
Additional problems arise: If a principal is looking at two candidates and one of them has training, demonstrated via the teaching license, and the second doesn't, the principal would--all other things being equal--pick the better trained one (I hope). But in a society like ours, this seems like a great way to get sued. Discrimination is notoriously tricky to nail down (unless it's so systemic that it's part of the memoranda, as is the case in some places in the country), and of course a principal has to choose based upon things she values or not, but let's be honest: Can you say that there won't be people suing over this? "I was overlooked just because I wasn't as trained as this person! But the law allows me to do the same job with less training than the other candidate! So why were they prejudicial?" (For the record, I hope the would-be victims are more loquacious than that.)
It's obvious that for some people, this could be a godsend--on both sides of the hiring process. But I do feel it diminishes what my wife and I have literally devoted our lives to, demonstrating our competencies, capacities, and cares in much more tangible ways. Dismissing our devotion is likely only to exacerbate Problem #1:
Utah's Teacher Problem
There is a teacher shortage issue here in Utah. The fact that some at the Board of Education (sometimes called the USOE) and in the legislature are scratching their heads is, in its own turn, baffling to me. Why aren't there more teachers? Flat out: I can't support my family on the pay.
"But the benefits!" comes the returning response.
"You can't pay a mortgage or buy groceries with benefits," is the easy response.
Look, either public education is a valid career, or it isn't. Either the nine and a half months' classroom time is worth paying for, or it isn't. (I should point out: Teachers work more than the Congress does, and we don't get six-figure incomes.) Either having a safe** place to learn, grow, and begin the lifelong process of becoming is valuable, or it isn't. Saying that teachers' compensation is comparable to other areas is patently wrong.
Utah specifically struggles to understand this for (from what I can see) one reason: Too many people of power think that weekday school is the same as Sunday School--that is, it's a calling. Callings, in the LDS Church, are volunteer positions that are assigned by the local leader (a bishop) and are fulfilled through donations of time and, sometimes, money in order to help the continued success of the ward. And I have heard enough politicians, people, and parents claim that my job (for which I need to get paid) is tantamount to my calling (a volunteer position).
It's not. Jobs deserve payment, and those which people claim are valuable deserve greater payment.
Here's the thing: Education is not a business***. There is no end product that can--or ought to--be monetized. We're not talking about making more efficient algorithms, we're talking about human beings. Real life children whose contribution to the world is not to become a corporate statistic. Education can and should help a person make her way through the world, but work is not why we live.
Now, plenty of jobs hinge on getting a customer to make a decision that benefits the company. You could argue that being a teacher is similar to being a salesperson. There are (at least) two flaws to that:
- There is no state mandate insisting that a customer purchase from a salesperson. The only obligation is to the continued monetary gain of the business--not to the well-being of the client, and if a client is not interested in continuing to work with that company, there are no legal expectations that the salesperson continue working with the client. That is not the case with a teacher, who is legally obligated to teach every student who comes through her class, often modifying all aspects of her curricula in order to accommodate those with additional needs. If a car saleswoman has someone with ADHD come in to buy a car, but can't be bothered to pay attention to anything she says, she can say, "You know what? Maybe this isn't the right car for you. Why don't you try somewhere else?" No teacher can legally do that (which isn't to say that some don't try). If your job has a federal and state mandate attached to it, then you're closer to the teachers' camp.
- There's no verifiable connection to future success of a student and a teacher. If we were to pervert the concept and insist that, no, students are the product, then the lives they live after leaving my classroom would be where the dividends are. Yet that doesn't work at all. Sure, we've all had inspirational teachers in our lives. We can probably still remember their names, their classrooms, and why they mattered so much. But what about the ones who did their quiet job, helping us along in ways that we didn't--and still don't--understand? And how much should I get paid for helping a student understand the worth of human life? Is that worth one percent of her adult earnings? Can I garnish her wages for all the comma splices I've had to correct? How do you monetize learning? Not "education" (we already talked about the Praxis), but actual, real learning? And who's responsible? I know that I'm a pretty influential teacher, but so are a lot of my peers and coworkers. Should I get paid more because one kid remembers my class better than, say, the German teacher's class? This is what's at the absolute core of the fallacy that we must make all things in the image of business: We're dealing with people, not product, and we can't organize or structure how teachers can live (which is through paying them what they're worth) if we're trying to use a model that doesn't fit.
I don't think teachers should be millionaires, even if they make a larger difference to more people than even the most well-intentioned actors and professional athletes out there (see the video). But we live in this post-capitalist world and it's imbalanced. I get that.
Just don't lie to me and say you can't figure out why there aren't teacher candidates around. My wife and I have worked for a combined two decades and we have just now made it to the point where we can afford a house with a two car garage and a backyard. Our children do not get to see us during most of the school year--I get to spend more time with my students at school than my own children at home. I have had to pay to keep my job (as I mentioned before) and continue to invest in my performance without additional remuneration. And people can't see why more people don't go into education? Really?
In Summation
I love my job. I really do. I love what my school has done for me and with me, providing unique experiences that have improved me in the most important intangible ways. Why? Because being a teacher has taught me things. I'm a better person because of how much teaching teaches me. I hope that I will always have a place to teach and a space to learn. I am passionate about what I do, whom I affect, and how the kids who pass through my classes will change the world. You have to be passionate, or else the lousy pay and mediocre (yes, mediocre) benefits will break you.
I'll close with this video. It's from a poet (former teacher...he retired, I think, to make more money in the lucrative career of poetry) named Taylor Mali. If we could remember that this is what teachers make, we might be able to change how little teachers make.
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* It's obvious that many other states struggle to pay teachers well. I can only speak from my experience, but, due to the Recession, my wife's salary was frozen for years. Had she been paid according to what the district claims it pays its teachers, our financial situation would not be so tenuous. And, though I do love my school, it is frustrating that it took nearly a decade to see a substantial raise.
** Don't get me started on the unwillingness the United States is to protect students--elementary all the way up--in a post-Sandy Hook world. We decided then that we were okay with people killing children. We will never have a fully safe America.
*** I will begrudgingly admit that aspects of business overlap with aspects of education. I would argue that organizational strategies which businesses use are what's in effect here. Businesses as a sacrosanct invention is one of my biggest beefs with libertarianism, so let's also file this footnote as a "don't get me started" tangent.
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