Converting large high schools into SLC's
How different should small learning communities be from the full sized, comprehensive high school that they replace?
Not different in terms of coursework, but very different in terms of increased professional teamwork, coordination, instructional effectiveness, and student achievement.
A mythology has grown up around small learning communities suggesting that these may ignore--or minimize-- the programmatic rigor, systematic skill development or learning sequences that create high levels of student achievement. In the uphill climb to gain acceptance and boost enrollment, some SLC developers may themselves contribute to this perception.
When they do so, they forget that the alpha and the omega of school reform is not to make the outcomes of schooling different, but to make them better.
"Better" and "different" may sometimes be confused as new programs describe their mission.
A common enough trap would be to describe an SLC program where systematic skill development seems to be exchanged for exploration, experience, or the self-indulgent pursuit of interests.
It is part of traditional schooling's failure that these have come to be seen as opposed to each other: the dreadful either/or of bookwork, straight rows, and disengaged students versus its antidote, a neo-romantic, spontaneous acquisition of knowledge. Both of course are extremes: the former has confused rigor with rigor-mortis, and the latter has become the rejection of that misdefined (and all too commonly observed) rigor. In their enthusiasm to break with the failed schooling structures of the past, new program developers may temporarily forget that critical elements of an instructional program that lead to student achievement should be prioritized and balanced-- not placed in an oppositional "either/or."
SLC creators are visionaries as well as entrepreneurs--otherwise they would be satisfied with schools as they are.
But sometimes the idealism of SLC vision statements can make light of the serious challenges that public schools face:
Too many students who come to high school underprepared, semi-resistant or undertrained.
The need for homogeneous schedules to enable elective crossovers.
Crowded curriculums dominated by state graduation and university admission requirements.
Teachers who have only so much energy to give to the profession in terms of pro-bono planning.
There is only so much that can be accomplished within the time and spaces that are our schools. Given limitations like these, what is needed is a concept of innovation that is rooted in quality instructional practices, comprehensive skill development, and content area core knowledge and expertise--all within a newly revitalized schoool culture where learning, engagement and meaningful application are the rule.
The great secret is that small learning communities do not need to be novel to be successful. Neither do they have to commit their staffs to lying upon a Procrustean bed of exaggerated extremes or undeliverable promises. A newly proposed program that promises to consistently integrate all learning around "themes" or "interests" might be one example. Such over-promising not only requires planning time and teacher energy levels that are limited commodities, but also threatens to short change the quality and depth of student learning experiences.
Instead, content area integration, when it occurs, should be a natural and gradual outgrowth of increased communication within the teacher team itself --and should always be respectful of the learning targets and essential questions of each content area, rather than something mandated or required.
A real world example of this artificial knitting together occurs when two enterprising teachers decide to team up and integrate social studies and literature. Because the history side is doing the Civil War, the literature teacher decides to have his students read Red Badge of Courage.
Which might be fine, were it not for the fact that Crane's novel is not so much about the Civil War as it is about mistaken idealism, the failure of the quest, the crushing power of circumstance and authority, temporary madness, denial, and what Freud called identification with the agressor--among other things.
As such, Red Badge of Courage may have more in common with the Sumerian epic Gilgamesh than it does with the Civil War...and perhaps should be read alongside that epic while the history teacher is doing Mesopotamia.
The point: in an articulated curriculum, learning activities (such as works of literature) should link up to each other as a logical sequence. This imbues class activities with a coherence, value and meaning that anchors an otherwise compartmentalized, fragmented approach to knowledge. In a great literature class, therefore, Crane's work wouldn't be read because it was a teacher favorite, or because the Civil War was being studied over on the history side. Instead, it would occupy a special place in a series of readings that contributed to an ongoing commentary on course essential questions.
Other novelties can threaten the vitality of a new SLC. The use of a traditional administrative model may not be glamorous or innovative, but it allows teachers to focus on instruction instead of program management. We learned this important lesson in our first year at Bellevue International School, where the shared leadership model bogged down in unnecessary duplication and diversion from important things.
On yet another front: some argue that small learning communities need to be autonomous--which is possible if the SLC is a stand alone school and has secured enough enrollment to fully staff its program. But when SLC's are to be created within an existing large public high school, such autonomy becomes an impossibility. There are only so many AP teachers to go around; only so many calculus teachers. Access to their classes must be shared democratically and school-wide, regardless of enrollment in this or that SLC. Instead of strict autonomy, a policy that allows student crossovers for classes offered in neighboring SLC's--or between the larger high school and smaller pilot SLC's--accomplishes two important things:
It allows SLC's to be small and still provide access to specialized classes...
And it reduces the pressure for teachers to add to the number of their preparations, or to teach outside their area of expertise.
Such a conservative approach allows teacher teams to focus on the main tasks of schooling: the creation of quality instructional experiences, the development of consistent standards and expectations, and the team task of articulated curriculum design that gives students a clear idea what they are doing, and why they are doing it--program wide.
So, how different can small learning communities be from each other?
In a typical 24 credit graduation sequence, 70% of a career-bound student's coursework is usually required for graduation (English, Social Studies, Math, Science, PE, Arts, CTE).
More compelling: up to 90% of a university bound student's coursework would be required when one factors in extra university admission requirements.
Given numbers like these, it is clear that high performance SLC's have no choice but to be more similar to each other (and to the comprehensive high school) than different.
Overly enthusiastic claims about new ways of delivering, blending or side-stepping content in order to pique student interest cannot stand up to the imperatives of a crowded curriculum at the secondary level. Each program must ensure that content area competencies are met.
Small learning communities, as part of the public system, are obligated to offer traditional subjects; but they must be more effective as they do so.
The use of essential questions, student centering (see Improving Teacher Effectiveness), checking for understanding and strategies for engagement and interaction: these are the keys to creating dynamic classrooms where achievement and interaction are high.
Teamwork and collaboration are required to build effective teaching and learning cultures...yet in large high schools, teachers feel little connection with, or responsibility toward, other teachers who share their students during the day. Professional isolation and the lack of agreement about expectations, standards, values and goals are the norm.
In SLC’s, however, core staff teams will have longer term relationships with the same group of students. As a result, both students and teachers will feel a stronger sense of obligation toward each other and toward the outcomes.
This is not hypothesis or hopeful expectation--it is a fact.
If up to 90% of coursework in SLC’s is virtually identical, then how will SLC's be different from each other, and what will be the basis of student choice?
Elective families embedded within respective SLC’s may vary. Co-curricular and school activities may also reflect a special content area emphasis.
High performance SLC's should not advertise that their programs emphasize a choice of “career” or employment pathway--even though these will be a necessary part of the guidance program of each SLC.
Such an emphasis limits the broadly democratic variety of students who enroll, and may create a false perception that a program is not seriously academic.
The remedy is simply to state the truth: each SLC promises that incoming students will enroll in a high quality, small high school program that is well organized and close-knit; a program where competencies and excellence in each content area are a basic expectation, regardless of post-high school goals and aspirations.
If career pathways or "interest" based curricula do not distinguish SLC's, then what does distinguish them?
There is no getting away from the required core; no short-cut or silver bullet that enables students to become educated without deep level experience with the logic of a discipline.
But in addition to this core, SLC's may lay claim to a special emphasis (writing, literature, principles of design, communication, science, math, historical connections).
Students would base their enrollment choice upon these, as well as upon co-curricular activities that SLC's offer to support that interest.
Can existing large high schools be successfully converted into a cluster of small learning communities?
The first caveat is that "small is not necessarily better." The act of dividing up a large high school into small groups of teachers and students is merely a change of the first order. This is simply not enough.
The key to small learning community success has to do with deep level second order change--not with clusters or physical rearrangements of class rosters and team teaching assignments.
Well before the first students are admitted, small learning community staffs must collaborate in the act of creating a new program with a special mission and focus. Key agreements must be hammered out, and then committed to by all staff as non-negotiables of the design.
Critical questions to be resolved would include:
What do we believe is important?
What behavioral and student performance expectations shall we establish?
What are the most effective instructional practices that will guide students to fulfill these expectations?
What critical skills and competencies must staff commit to teaching at each level and in each and every class?
How can we create courses that are a sequence, not merely a randomized list that reflects departmental tradition or teacher preference?
What do we expect our graduates to know and to be able to do?
How can we arrive at this end point by the deliberate sequencing of learning activities?
What essential understandings and skills must be targeted, developed, and carried forward from year to year as they are extended and applied?
Successful small learning communities must answer questions like these, and all staff on the team must commit to support and uphold these agreements before students can be accepted.
When it comes to effective school structures that maximize student achievement and the joy of learning in a purposeful and focused culture, there can be no key step omitted, and no weak link in the chain.
Does the start-up of a new small learning community create problems for other schools in the district?
Whenever a small learning community attracts notice because it is doing something right, it can serve as a catalyst and motivator for other schools to examine their own practices and, if necessary, take steps to create the same kind of commitment and support for strengthening their own teaching and learning cultures.
Successful small learning communities should be thought of as laboratories, or as assets which can strengthen District programs by sharing new information about "what works."
What are some of the issues associated with starting a small learning community at a new site?
There are many challenges that must be faced in starting a new small learning community. These not only have to do with establishing a physical site, but also with threading one's way (without losing one's way) through stake-holder expectations and strongly held values in order to arrive at a quality end-product.
It is essential to establish the focus and vision for the school early on--and stay the course.
Absent this clearly established focus, the question "which vision shall prevail?" can unsettle all aspects of school foundation and operation.
Those who would establish new small learning communities must be able to effectively articulate a strong focus and vision--and provide a clear demonstration of the way that theory bridges over to practice and to results.
Most important is the issue having to do with the quality of instruction and program design. We must ask: why is this small learning community being established?
Does it exist to serve a narrow ideological or needs-based point of view?
Is it offered mainly as an escape from the regular public program, or as a silver bullet that will at last enable students to succeed without requiring them to be accountable and responsible?
Or is it founded upon a vision of quality instruction, quality relationships and high expectations?
Once it is established, is this new small learning community able to deliver on its promises?
Does it have a philosophical and programmatic center that can guide its decision making, manage its growth and preserve its vision despite the addition of new staff or the infusion of new families?
What about the 7-12 configuration?
Long-term relationships and continuity of curriculum are crucial to the success of new, high performance small learning communities. Every school must be accountable, and every school must ensure that students achieve competence in fundamental skills and scholarly attitudes before moving to the next level.
Locating the small learning community in one building can accomplish this most easily--the Bellevue School, for instance, housed grades 6-12 together in an old elementary school, until it moved to its new site, an unused junior high.
If a separate building is not available, then schools within schools might provide these long-term relationships. New programs that utilized elements of the International Model (such as the jr/sr high configuration described in this website) could then exist on one, or on two campuses: a lower school located at the Junior High, and an upper school located at the High School.
Expert instructors would be identified who would pick up a class of 7th graders and move with them up to the high school. High school teachers who graduated their seniors might move back to the junior high to pick up an incoming class.
Is teacher quality the most important concern?
The quality and unity of the staff is paramount if a new small learning community is to deliver on its promises and succeed. Program initiators should endeavor to establish a new academic culture--not merely a new collection of teachers and courses, loosely organized under a vaguely defined thematic, career pathway or philosophical rubric.
In order to maintain this culture as the program grows over time, new staff will need to be oriented, and ample provision must be made for professional staff to evaluate the relationship between delivery of instruction and program goals.
This "delivery of instruction" is crucial to the success of small learning communities that aspire to produce enthusiasm for learning and achievement.
Lessons and classroom activities must be connected and essential--a cumulative sequence of core knowledge and an extension of basic skills that both challenges and makes sense to the participants. In order for this to occur, teachers must know what they are doing and why.
It is not enough for a teacher to merely be knowledgeable; instead, each teacher must deliberately set about identifying those essential questions, themes and skill practices that will underlie and connect all student learning during that particular year, and even more important, that will be carried forward to the next year, rather than jettisoned at the conclusion of each unit.
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