Virginia's Misguided Approach to Gifted Education

A bit over three years ago, Style Weekly published this piece, which I wrote in response to then-Governor Tim Kaine's instructions to the Virginia Department of Education to look into possible racial disparities in the area of gifted education. 

I'm not aware that anything came of the Governor's directive - or my piece.  But what I wrote then is still true, and still deserves attention.

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Thanks to Gov. Tim Kaine, the intermittent controversy over gifted education has once again claimed public attention. Expressing concern over apparent racial disparities in Virginia's gifted education programs, the governor has ordered the Virginia Department of Education to study the reasons for this disparity.

The governor's directive quickly aroused predictable reactions from the usual quarters.

Those whose mission it is to detect racism behind every unpleasant fact of life quickly demanded revised selection criteria for gifted programs.

Those advantaged by the present system were equally quick to detect a conspiracy to impose some new form of affirmative action. 

Educational administrators assured the public of their belief that every child deserves the best and most appropriate education possible — provided, of course, that no one actually expects them to do anything constructive to that end.

Not surprisingly, these predictable exchanges have thus far produced more heat than light.

Most Virginians — including the majority of school administrators — probably have no idea that there are actually two competing approaches to gifted education, or that the approach adopted by most public schools is supported by neither research nor common sense.

Few realize that Virginia's approach to gifted education has been designed to suit the convenience of school administrators — and to satisfy the demands of privileged parents — rather than to meet the needs of our most intellectually gifted kids.

Yet such is the case.

The approach to gifted education used in most Virginia public schools is the “enrichment model.” Under this approach, pupils identified as gifted take the same basic curriculum as other children in their schools — at the same pace. They may take some courses one year earlier, but they take the same amount of time — one academic year — to complete each course.

The basic difference between their education and that of the general population is that gifted pupils go into greater depth — through things such as extra research projects, hearing guest speakers and going on field trips. Indeed, many kids will tell you that being gifted essentially means that you have more homework.

The alternative approach — the acceleration model — rests on the assumption that what we term giftedness is essentially the ability to learn faster and absorb more. In an accelerated program, pupils are encouraged to work at their own speed, completing courses in less than the usual time and moving immediately to the next level.

Accelerated pupils tend to skip at least one grade of elementary school. Most complete high school early. Many apply to college at 17, 16, or even younger.

The research comparing the two models is overwhelming. Pupils in accelerated programs tend to advance far more rapidly than those in enrichment programs. Because they are constantly challenged — rather than merely overworked — they are less frustrated with school.  They tend to develop a stronger work ethic and better study skills. 

There is even reason to believe, albeit the research is not conclusive, that accelerated students have more humility about their intellectual gifts than those in enrichment programs.

All this makes perfect sense. Pupils in enrichment programs are, effectively, being held back. They are taking the same classes, in enriched form, as ungifted pupils. They often feel bored and overworked — but seldom challenged. Relying on native intelligence to earn easy A's, they frequently acquire a sense of innate superiority rather than developing the skills and self-discipline needed to deal with ever more challenging material.

Yet, in America, most public schools prefer the enrichment approach.

There are several reasons for this. First, many parents and teachers share a concern that kids who advance ahead of their classmates will suffer socially. In fact, the research indicates that the reverse is true. The smartest kid in class often encounters social isolation. The whiz kid among older pupils functioning at the same intellectual level ordinarily gains acceptance.

Second, school administrators are never eager to lose bright pupils. Schools love to take credit for success stories — whether or not they can justly claim any role in that success.  Moreover, bright pupils help a school's ratings on standardized tests. An accelerated pupil who graduates early is — from the administrative perspective — a lost asset.

Finally, middle-class parents prefer enrichment programs because their selection processes tend to favor kids from privileged backgrounds.

Because enrichment programs emphasize extra projects and field trips — as opposed to moving rapidly forward into ever more difficult material — they are inherently less intellectually challenging than accelerated programs. Once selected, a hard-working pupil of better-than-average intelligence — with the active support of two educated parents — can survive in an enrichment program. In an accelerated program, a pupil lacking the intellectual prowess to move rapidly through the curriculum will inevitably fall behind.

Since accelerated programs are better at identifying improperly selected pupils, they tend to evolve better selection criteria. Enrichment programs, in contrast, often develop more subjective criteria, favoring pupils who behave well in class, speak conventional English and have supportive parents. Not surprisingly, this preference usually has the unintended consequence of overselecting white and Asian students, and underselecting students of Hispanic and African-American descent.

The solution is obvious — if not politically easy. By adopting the accelerated model of gifted education Virginia would provide an appropriate education to more of her most intellectually gifted pupils.

If Kaine wishes to leave an educational legacy in his final month in office, he should redirect the energies of his study from racial disparity to a comparison of the acceleration and enrichment models.

It shouldn't take until Inauguration Day for an impartial study to reach the obvious conclusions.

Why Do We Have Schools?

Every year, Virginia's General Assembly is flooded with bills designed to tweak our public school system.  A quick glace through the list of this year's proposals - easily located at www.richmondsunlight.com/ - would persuade any teacher, and most other adults with a modicum of common sense, that our legislators don't know much about today's kids, their teachers, or the workings of their schools. 

Certainly, they don't seem to have a vision of what public education could be, or should be.

2013 is an election year in Virginia.   In November, we'll choose a new Governor, who will  bear responsibility for shaping educational policy.  We'll also elect one hundred members of the House of Delegates, who - given their track record - won't be able to resist the temptation of proposing legislation to tweak our public schools. 

As we start yet another election cycle, it's important for Virginians to start thinking about educational reforms that might actually accomplish something.

And the place to start is by asking ourselves why we have schools at all.

This might seem like an obvious question, but it's not.  Twenty years ago, I spent three years at UVA's Curry School of Education, earning an M.Ed. and doing all the coursework for a Ph.D.   As ed schools go, Curry is top-notch.  And I assure you, the question of why we have schools almost never came up.

The truth is that, for almost five decades now, America's public schools have been operating without anything remotely like a clear mission statement.

Indeed, it's possible to fix the expiration date of America's last clear educational mission statement with great precision.  When Neil Armstrong stepped onto the surface of the Moon, on July 20, 1969, America achieved the goal of a twelve-year educational ramp-up which began in response to the 1957 launch of the Soviet Union's Sputnik.  

During that twelve-year period, there was genuine consensus about the mission of our schools.  They were to produce the leaders and scientists we needed to beat the Soviets in the Space Race.

This mission might have been lacking in many respects.  Certainly, it left out a lot of kids who were never going to become scientists, astronauts, or leaders.  But at least the mission was clear and results-oriented, and most Americans could get behind it. 

Since 1969, several generations of educators have come and gone without any serious effort to devise a new mission statement.  Our schools have been adrift for so long that few educators even think to pose the question.

Which is why today's schools are forced to deal with mindless, wasteful "reforms" such as SOL testing.  Because the fact is that, even if our political and educational leaders don't know what our schools are for, they must at least pretend they do.  Which explains expensive boondoggles such as SOLs.

Nearly all teachers know that end-of-year, multiple-choice tests are an enormous waste of time - but these tests produce the illusion that our schools are doing something. 

Which they are - if their actual mission is to produce graduates who are reasonably competent at memorizing selected "facts" and demonstrating that achievement by taking bubble-tests.

But this can't really be their mission, can it?  If so, Americans are spending trillions of dollars annually to achieve something utterly pointless.  If not, then the question remains - what is the mission?

No one - or at least, no one in charge - seems to know.

Seriously.

Just ask any politician or educational higher-up to define the mission of our schools.  You'll get fine-sounding verbiage about "excellence" and "opportunity" and "all students".  What you won't get is the sort of mission statement any private-sector enterprise would need, simply to function.

In the absence of a clearly-defined mission, a proliferating collection of individuals and groups - each with its own narrow agenda - have spent the past several decades seeking to wrest control of the schools for their own ends.

Parents and parent groups; teachers and teacher organizations; religious factions; prospective employers; colleges and universities; minority communities; majority communities; advocates for the disabled and differently-abled; boosters of the arts; and countless other vested interests - all have battled for control of the public school agenda.

Most of these interests have some claim to consideration, but none can provide the whole answer.  Historically, our public schools were created to serve the general welfare - what our Founders called "the commonwealth".

Presumably, this is still true.  We know this because all citizens pay taxes to support the schools.  All citizens are entitled to vote for the public officials who set educational policy.  In principle, the public schools were established to contribute significantly to the welfare of our communities, our state, and the entire nation.

But of course, our schools cannot - except accidentally - serve a purpose which has not been defined.  If we, and the people running our schools, don't know what those schools are for, it is impossible to evaluate how well they are doing.

Thus, in the ABCs of school reform, A is this:  We must define the purpose of our schools, and we must do so in terms of outcomes.  

A simple task to define, but not an easy one to accomplish.

Yet this becomes the first test for our political leaders, and the educational leaders whom they employ to run our schools.  For until we know what we want our public schools to produce, we cannot possibly expect them to produce it.