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FEATURES: Breaking the Mold
By Joe Williams
How do school entrepreneurs create change?
It was the kind of defiant act that most school principals probably have
contemplated wistfully at one time or another. Disgusted by what he
and his staff considered to be poorly written, poorly stapled, and
generally disorganized mandatory citywide exams sent to Fritsche
Middle School by the Milwaukee Public Schools central office in the
fall of 1999, Principal Bill Andrekopoulos committed an act of
ownership theretofore unheard of in the 100,000-student school
district. Andrekopoulos and his staff stuffed the exams back into
the box and shipped them back, Return to Sender. They included a
brief message: What you produced wasn’t good enough for our
students. Please try again.
Among schools all across Milwaukee that
autumn, word about the test-box rebellion spread quickly, if only
because acts of subversion were such rarities in a system where
power was closely held by bureaucrats and where schools were
expected to respect, honor, and obey the central office.
At a time when Milwaukee’s schools were
attempting to show they could compete with new publicly funded
alternatives, Fritsche Middle School became the poster child for
public schools’ trying to reinvent themselves. Andrekopoulos,
who at the time was a student of a national performance-management
program, proved what could be done when sound decisions were made
by entrepreneurial leaders at the school level rather than at the central office. (To
remind the bureaucrats in the Milwaukee Public Schools that they
existed to serve their school, for example, the Fritsche team later
developed a report card, which it used to grade all of the various
central office departments, based primarily on the value added each
provided for Fritsche’s teachers and students.)
Do Andrekopoulos and Fritsche Middle School
represent the future of American education? Or are they the
exceptions that prove the rule about immovable bureaucracies?
Though it could be a bit of both, there is increasing evidence to
suggest that entrepreneurship can, and does, exist within the
modern public-sector education system.
More educators and school leaders are taking
risks to transform their classrooms, schools, and districts. They
take ownership of the success or failure of everything that happens
under their watch, often welcoming innovative ways of improving the
delivery of education to students. In many cases, these
public-sector school entrepreneurs have a keen ability to recognize
opportunities that exist for improvements to (or abandonment of)
the status quo in their schools and to find imaginative ways to
take advantage of those opportunities to benefit students.
Modern public-school systems have a poor track
record in taking bold steps to solve clearly identified problems.
Poor student achievement in the general
sense has been widely documented and reported, as has the
significant achievement gap that exists between white students and
their black and Hispanic counterparts. Instead of changing to solve
the performance problems, however, our public-school system seems
to have absorbed them, made them part of the system.
Schools like Fritsche in Milwaukee have
historically been the exception within public education.
Increasingly, though, the trends that made Fritsche possible,
including strong leadership in the principal’s office and
shifts in power caused by private-school vouchers and charter
schools, are apparent throughout the United States.
Andrekopoulos advised other schools in the
district on how to control their own destinies, then went on to
become the superintendent of the Milwaukee Public Schools in 2002.
He described the new environment: “It’s a matter of
schools’ self-actualizing and pushing the school community to
take on a leadership role, to take ownership.” The plethora
of choices available to Milwaukee’s parents has forced the
Milwaukee schools over time to be more responsive and enterprising.
As Andrekopoulos says, “Innovation is now part of our
DNA.”
The New Educators
Not every education entrepreneur is a Bill
Andrekopoulos. But the increasing number of such risk-takers
suggests that there are others out there and that they may just be
changing the landscape of education. They are independent thinkers,
creative bureaucrats; their efforts are being encouraged by
programs like Teach For America, alternative certification programs
like New York City’s Teaching Fellows, and leadership
training initiatives like the Leadership Academy and Urban Network
for Chicago, New York City’s Leadership Academy, and San
Diego’s Institute for Learning.
The upside of these programs is that they
attract professionals who are less inclined to settle for
bureaucratic inertia and incompetence and care little what is said
about them in the teachers’ lounge or at the
administrator’s conference table. They are the kinds of
teachers and administrators willing to go public, in the press, at
town hall meetings, or in Internet blogs, and they’re not
afraid to talk about real barriers that classroom teachers face
within their school systems. Education writers across the nation
are drawn to them because they are considerably more interesting
than the status quo.
Mitch Kurz is one of these new educators.
“I am determined to be a foot soldier in the movement to
inject equity into our education system,” said the
51-year-old executive. Kurz left his job managing 8,000 employees
in 250 offices in 77 countries for the advertising firm Young and
Rubicam in 2002 to teach in a Bronx middle school. He graduated
from New York’s Teaching Fellows program, created in 2000 by
former chancellor Harold Levy, who himself left his job as a
corporate lawyer for Citigroup to take on the nation’s
largest school system. Instead of three years at a teachers college
talking about teaching in the abstract, Kurz participated in an
intense summer program and then jumped right into the classroom
while earning a master’s in education at night through the
teaching fellows program.
Beginning their work without formal
pedagogical training in education schools, some of these career
changers are more open than traditional entrants to the profession
to discovering and implementing teaching methods that they can see
work with their students. (For example, on leaving the advertising
world, Kurz found classroom discipline to be the biggest challenge
in his school, and he set out to find the best strategies to deal
with disruptive students.) Critics have complained that such career
changers are too inexperienced and ill-prepared to be helpful to
children. Stanford’s Linda Darling-Hammond has argued that
they tend not to stick around in their jobs. Groups like Teach For
America have disputed that concern, pointing to research it
commissioned that found their corps members outperformed veteran
and certified teachers in their schools.
Aside from friction created by
education-school scholars like Darling-Hammond, however, career
changers face other obstacles in school systems, which, at their
core, tend to be disdainful of those who exercise initiative or who
rock the boat. Many New York teaching fellows in the early years
reported that they felt like second-class citizens in their schools
and were even set up to fail by administrators who had little
interest in seeing them succeed. Chuck Lavaroni, codirector of the
International Academy for Educational Entrepreneurship (IAEE),
notes, “While the ‘system’ says it respects and
wants creativity, more often than not, it does nothing to encourage
or support it.” The IAEE, a California-based organization,
encourages and supports teachers who turn innovative ideas about
how to improve education into action. “The creative
teacher,” says Lavaroni, “often has to literally fight
for time, money, resources, and/or equipment necessary to truly
create and become involved in all aspects of the creative process.
The ‘system’ makes it difficult for teachers to share
ideas, plan mutual activities, and build upon each other’s
strengths and interests.”
Sometimes teachers find themselves at odds
with the school administration’s low expectations for their
students and staff. Zelman Bokser, 42, a Fulbright Scholar with a
Ph.D. in music who had taught at the university level,
couldn’t have been hired as a New York City teacher without
the alternative certification program because he didn’t
have the required education-school
courses under his belt. But even after landing a teaching job in
2000, he had to overcome institutional
habits that discouraged innovation. His proposal to teach violin to
students in his struggling Brooklyn school was met with disbelief:
“Too difficult,” a waste of time. These kids had enough
trouble getting through the school day, administrators counseled;
why throw more hurdles their way? One administrator advised him to
forget the whole idea, suggesting she was doing him a favor by
preventing the failure that was sure to follow.
But as a career changer with an attitude,
Bokser didn’t let the naysayers stop him. Two years later, as
his students tuned their violins inside Manhattan’s
Hammerstein Ballroom for a performance welcoming that year’s
crop of new teaching fellows, Bokser reminded his peers what they
were up against by telling the story of the nay-saying
administrator.
Rebels with a Cause
Some call them crackerjacks, others call them
hard-nosed, and still others would say they are just difficult. For
our purposes, we’ll refer to them here as education’s
James Deans; except that these subversives are rebels with a
cause. Perhaps it’s the principal in Queens, New York, who
blatantly disregards the clear directions of her regional
supervisors by throwing away the kindergarten curriculum because
she has concluded that her kids haven’t even come close to
mastering the skills taught in the pre-kindergarten curriculum
(instead using a pre-K curriculum that she has discovered produces
better results). Or maybe it’s the principal in Jersey City,
New Jersey, who figures out it is easier and more efficient to get
school supplies for her teachers by creating an account at the
local Staples store than to go through central purchasing. These
James Deans use what they consider to be common sense when picking
and choosing their battles within the system’s regulatory
framework. Often they are driven by their determination to simply
do the right thing.
Like some of the maverick school leaders in
Milwaukee, the education rebels tend to become folk heroes of
sorts, and they often have rather complicated power relationships
with administrators and union leaders. They also tend to have a
healthy chip on their shoulders and some degree of confidence in
their own ability to make things happen. Often they remain employed
only because they can point to measurable results and have used
their entrepreneurial skills to create political support among key
stakeholders like politicians, business leaders, parents, and the
media. School superintendents tend to allow them to exist quietly
at the margins rather than tempt the political fates by messing
with them.
Anthony Lombardi, principal of Public School
49 in Middle Village, Queens, is a perfect example of a James Dean,
but there are thousands of them quietly forging their way through
dysfunctional school systems nationwide, getting the job done for
their students and teachers. On Lombardi’s desk, which he
moved into the hallway to create more classroom space, are three
portraits of Frank Sinatra and a copy of Regulations and Procedures for Pedagogical
Ratings. He loves the crooner, but doesn’t believe a word of Regulations and Procedures.
For principals who want to rid their schools of incompetent
teachers, the directions contained in the manual make disciplining
bad teachers counterproductive. “It’s impossible to
prove incompetency,” Lombardi says. In giving a teacher an
“unsatisfactory” rating, a principal is preparing for a
two-year process that may not even result in the teacher’s
being removed from the school. More important, once a teacher gets
an “unsatisfactory” rating, he or she is prevented from
transferring elsewhere, further adding to the probability that such
ratings are futile exercises for school leaders.
Lombardi is obviously not the first principal
to figure this out: of the city’s 80,000 school teachers,
only a few hundred a year on average receive ratings of
“unsatisfactory” from their principals.
Lombardi’s entrepreneurial skills, however, persuaded him not
to give up. Rather than avoiding paperwork, he crafted careful
memos to all of his teachers based on his in-class observations. He
drafted detailed plans for improvement for each teacher, set the
bar high, and encouraged all of his teachers to work according to
high professional standards. In short, he created a climate in
which his weakest teachers found themselves asking whether they
even wanted to stick around at the school to see whether or not
they could rise to the occasion. “I’ve set a high
expectation and when they hadn’t
met it, they had to make a professional decision if they wanted to
be a member of this staff,” Lombardi said. It becomes a kind
of compact between the bad teacher and the principal: he
won’t give the “unsatisfactory” rating if they
agree to take their act to some other school.
Lombardi has been able to survive through
several regime changes in the city’s school scene in large
part because these schemes have paid off. In 2002 the school made
it onto the list of the city’s 200 most-improved schools.
Test scores in math and reading shot through the roof at the
500-student school under Lombardi’s leadership. Clearly as a
result of his sidestepping the normal way of doing business, PS 49
students and teachers are better-off today. The school was even
recognized by the New York State Education Department in 2004 for
its success in narrowing the achievement gap between white and
minority students, and it has received numerous other awards from
business and civic groups for its success.
Another warrior is Mary Beth Minkley. In the
mid-1990s she was a principal at Congress Elementary in Milwaukee.
She, too, got used to hearing about all the things she wasn’t
allowed to do and got used to ignoring it. She managed to start the
city’s first year-round school, then battled bureaucrats who
refused to fix the air-conditioning in the summer months. When she
needed more space to accommodate the swelling student population of
kids who suddenly wanted to be a part of her popular school, her
bosses warned her to slow down. At a 1999 breakfast honoring her
work in creating the year-round school, Minkley told the crowd:
“I know there are people from the central office in the
audience, but you made things extremely difficult for us when we
were trying to make this happen.” (Minkley retired from the
Milwaukee Public Schools soon thereafter and became an
administrator in the Racine, Wisconsin, Unified School District.)
Planting Seeds of Change
Despite the obvious successes of people like
Lombardi and Minkley, the question remains: Are they the exceptions
that prove the rule? Is there anything systemic about what is
happening? Lombardi, through his careful consideration of which
rules are worth following and which are worth avoiding, has
effectively taken care of business for his school, but he admits
that he has done so at the expense of the city’s other
schools, which have been forced to accept bad teachers who have
been driven out of his building with “satisfactory”
work evaluations in their files. “I made my school better,
but I made your system even worse,” Lombardi told the city
council’s education committee during 2003 hearings on the
impact of contractual work rules on the running of good schools.
In fact, creating leaders like Lombardi and
Minkley is what a number of people have turned their attention to.
A growing number of entrepreneurial programs, like the legendary
Johnny Appleseed, focus on planting seeds to produce school leaders
who will someday lead transformations at the school level. The
goal? An army of agents for change.
The Leadership Academy and Urban Network for
Chicago (LAUNCH) is one such agent. A joint effort of the Chicago
Public Schools, Northwestern University, and the union that
represents principals in the Chicago schools, this program to train
new school leaders was started in 1998. The program intended
“to seize that opportunity by finding and training the best
and brightest candidates,” according to Albert Bertini, an
education professor at the University of Chicago at the time,
“creating a critical mass of ‘change agents’ with
the promise of transforming individual schools
and—potentially—the entire system.”
Aspiring principals in LAUNCH participate in
hands-on lessons that emphasize leadership and management, in
addition to education. Participants take summer courses at
Northwestern’s Kellogg Business School and are then paired
with a principal mentor for five months of intense professional
development. The principals’ union participated in the
creation and implementation of LAUNCH, essentially eliminating one
potential internal obstacle.
To date, 100 LAUNCH fellows have become
principals in the Chicago schools, and many others have assumed
other leadership roles within schools and at the district office.
Not wanting to put all of its eggs in one basket, the district also
partners with the University of Illinois-Chicago and the nonprofit
group New Leaders for New Schools to help find and train promising
change-agent school leaders. Similar leadership programs have been
run in districts like St. Paul, Minnesota; Columbus, Ohio; Norfolk,
Virginia; and elsewhere.
As mentioned, seed-sowing programs such as
these, because they are aligned with and sanctioned by the official
school leadership, tend not to produce the kind of rule-breaking
James Deans mentioned above. (Neither Lombardi nor Minkley
graduated from a leadership academy.) The leadership programs tend
to encourage their students to look for ways to do a better job of
leading schools within the existing rules and framework. On a visit
to training sessions conducted at New York’s Leadership
Academy in 2004, I observed a session conducted by the education
department’s legal division, instructing principals in how to
build an airtight case against an incompetent teacher. The lawyers
went over the common technical mistakes that often cause
arbitrators to rule against management before they can discuss the
substance of the charges. Essentially, these budding school leaders
were being taught how to dot their Is and cross their Ts so that
they can find effective ways to level the playing field with labor.
One longtime administrator who was present for the session remarked
to me: “The way it used to work, you were lucky if someone
pulled you aside and talked to you about these issues. The labor
contracts were something nobody felt comfortable bringing up at
meetings and training sessions.”
The NCLB Effect
Of all the types of school entrepreneurs, the
one least understood, perhaps, is that which could have the most
impact: the NCLB opportunists. These secret entrepreneurs were
silent until the 2001 federal No Child Left Behind act and other
standards-based reform efforts opened a window of opportunity for
them to use their creative and risk-taking skills. They have seized
on the new accountability measures to turn around their own
struggling schools. These old school entrepreneurs see sanctions
for repeated failure as opportunities rather than punishment.
Another new approach is what some believe to
be the emergence of “teacher partnerships,” being
pioneered in Minnesota and a few other places, in which teachers
literally own charter schools and are ultimately accountable for
learning. These teachers help select the staff, decide teaching
methods and curriculum, evaluate their performance, and decide
their compensation.
Similarly, the United Federation of Teachers,
the union representing New York City teachers, took the unusually
entrepreneurial step in 2005 of applying for and opening its own
experimental charter school in an impoverished neighborhood in
Brooklyn. The school operates without a principal (it uses a lead
teacher), and teachers sit on the schools’ board of
directors. Union leaders have said they hope to show through
increased student achievement that it is possible to run successful
schools in the city within the confines of the teachers’
contract.
Two things that entrepreneurial school leaders
have in common is a desire to improve the delivery of education to
students and the willingness to try every means imaginable to make
it happen. They understand that empowering principals and teachers
to be change-agents will create fundamental change in the culture
of school systems, a culture that has historically stifled and even
frowned on creativity and innovation.
A prominent example of a modern
entrepreneurial catalyst is Philadelphia schools’ CEO, Paul
Vallas. He comes from a nontraditional background, he has little
invested in preserving the way things have been done in the past,
and his own professional background convinced him that radical
change is not only necessary but will occur only with poking and
prodding from multiple directions.
Vallas, who helped Mayor Richard Daley
transform Chicago’s schools, sent clear messages to
entrepreneurial types when he took over in Philadelphia in 2002:
your innovative spirit is welcome here, so let’s talk.
Business leaders, who for years sat on the sidelines because their
efforts to assist the school systems were often squandered by
ineffective school leaders and systems, suddenly found hope and
became early partners in reform.
Vallas has engaged in internal tinkering and
engineering in ways that are not unique, such as breaking up large
campuses into smaller learning communities, virtually eliminating
middle schools, and attempting to infuse schools with better
technology that can be used in conjunction with the city’s
instructional programs. But he has also turned Philadelphia into a
stomping ground for outside groups trying to push innovation. In
that regard, his support from the highest levels of the school
system has been unprecedented. Private companies, like Edison
Schools, have found a welcome home under Vallas and are operating
several schools in his district. The University of Pennsylvania and
Temple and St. Joseph’s universities also are now running
schools for the system.
While such privatization schemes are often
extremely controversial, Vallas has managed to win some degree of
support from teachers and from the larger community. From day one
he has unveiled a dizzying array of reforms, programs, and
partnerships, creating the image that things are moving at
lightning speed toward improvement. One teacher union leader went
so far as to note, “I don’t remember a superintendent
ever being on a honeymoon for three years.”
In addition, businesses that are peripheral to
education have been brought onboard as well by Vallas’s
vision. The software giant Microsoft is building an experimental
new high school in the district. The result is what Thomas Toch, a
writer on education, calls “the early stages of a revolution
in public education.” Vallas, Toch noted, “has forced
the Philadelphia education community to rethink the status quo and
question the effectiveness for kids of a system built around rules
and regulations designed to protect adults.”
Can We Institutionalize the Incentive to Reform?
Entrepreneurs within the public school system
clearly play a role in improving conditions for learning in the
schools under their charge. In cases like Philadelphia’s
Vallas, their efforts have the potential to go a long way toward
transforming entire systems. It is still not clear whether it is
possible for entrepreneurship alone, however, to change the overall
culture of public-sector school systems, which are as a rule
disdainful of innovation and imagination even in the face of
obvious failure.
Entrepreneurial educators face common
obstacles in their efforts to improve education: institutional
resistance from forces within the system, the bureaucrats, labor
unions, education schools, and the state’s tight control over
entry to the teaching profession. In fact, there is strong evidence
that public-sector school systems themselves are their own most
formidable barriers to more entrepreneurial thinking and
leadership. Thomas Edison, it could reasonably be argued, would
never have been able to invent the lightbulb had educrats been
breathing down his neck all day. As Bill Andrekopoulos, who is now
superintendent in Milwaukee, puts it, “Creativity and problem
solving disappear in a bureaucratic structure.”
Policymakers who wish to unleash more
entrepreneurial energy in struggling school systems should consider
an approach that makes risk taking more glamorous and rewarding
than is currently the case. Pay scales for teachers and principals
currently leave little room for incentives that reward risk taking
to find better ways to educate children.
As more districts seek ways to attract
alternatively certified teachers and administrators, careful
consideration should be given to the aspects of plans that provide
meaningful training and continuing support for educators coming
from other sectors to work in schools. And given the pressure of No
Child Left Behind, policymakers should also continue to consider
actions that encourage educators to take advantage of the
accountability measures in the law to reform their schools. The
current climate of ferment has the potential to unleash an
unprecedented wave of entrepreneurship from school principals and
teachers who wish to be part of the solution rather than the
problem. The key question will be whether districts can reinvent
themselves in ways that no longer require school leaders to break
the rules or to put their own necks on the line to do what is best
for their kids. Soon, perhaps even rule followers will be capable
of running great schools.
Joe Williams, a former staff writer on
education for the New York Daily News, is a nonresident senior fellow with Education Sector
and author of Cheating Our Kids: How
Politics and Greed Ruin Education.

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