System Redesign
Doing More With Less: Preparing for the ESSER Funding Cliff
Next fall’s $190 billion federal funding cliff may be causing almost as many sleepless nights as the pandemic did. For superintendents and other K12 district leaders, early Elementary and Secondary School Emergency Relief (ESSER) funds were essential for one-time emergency spending. Later, districts spent more to address learning loss, staffing needs, and other capacity-building to support full recovery.
Assessments of learning loss and equity implications for communities suggest that full recovery from the pandemic is far from finished, even if ESSER funding is ending. It’s easy to build an argument that schools need more base funding to continue to hire and retain educators, restore long-vacant positions for counseling and other student supports, and provide intensive programs for targeted students.
But the reality is that districts and states will have to identify cuts with the end of ESSER funding. The sooner and more thoughtfully districts can begin planning, the better. Budget cuts are unavoidable, but district leadership teams can use this as an opportunity to focus on what is actually important. Four practices can make sure that the cliff doesn’t send you into a free-fall.
Take time to articulate priorities.
From paraprofessionals to the superintendent’s office, educators across all roles agree on one thing: they never have enough money or time. While it’s hard to make more of either, we can choose how we spend both. That means getting distinct about what is most important – not just what’s ideal or urgent – and putting all our energy and resources behind just those things.
The daily urgencies of our work can make it challenging to take the time to identify these top priorities, let alone articulate them for school communities. But it’s an essential first step. If we don’t know our priorities, we can’t protect them — and that means cuts will be felt even more deeply.
De-silo the decision-making process.
Defining “priorities” depends on your perspective. Meeting the needs of 30 individual students and determining what works at the district scale are and should be entirely different viewpoints for decision-making, even when they both seek to center learners’ needs. When those viewpoints aren’t reconciled, leadership teams tend to rely on a combination of mandates, roll-outs, and seeking buy-in to encourage alignment with tough calls.
While leadership requires those tough calls, it need not require tough talk.
The harder the decisions are — and cuts of this type will be very hard — the more important it is to communicate about priorities with others and not just to them.
In over a decade of helping school and district teams tackle challenging changes, our organization has never seen a single “roll-out” of an important decision work smoothly based on an announcement. Rather, it requires consistent and connected communication that links back to the priorities you’ve already discussed together.
The time spent to share ideas, ask questions, and seek input is significant, but it is much less time — and much less stressful time — than the time that leadership teams otherwise need to spend in contentious bargaining tables, staff meetings, public hearings, and press conferences.
Fight the epidemic of “program-itis.”
Even evidence-based programs with robust support from skilled educators can fall short of their promise for students and schools. And that can sometimes be the best-case scenario. Many, if not most, of the programs that districts and schools plan to implement, require extensive (and expensive) training for staff before they can get off the ground or demand total fidelity to work as promised.
Sometimes there are just too many programs to be done well. In one improvement leadership network we have supported, school leadership teams identified more than 30 programs adopted in relatively small elementary schools. When staff are struggling just to name all the programs they have in place, it’s a good bet that they are struggling to run them.
Programs should support students and educators – not the other way around. Budget cuts not only offer us the opportunity to trim away what’s not aligned with priorities and getting results, but also to think about what is really sustainable. No matter how much money you have to spend on potentially effective and helpful programs, too many of them create a deficit of time and energy that contributes to stress, burnout, and attrition while doing little for student learning.
Plan proactively.
K12 education continues to be asked to do more with less. The repercussions of cutbacks are real, as is the stress that these decisions place on district leadership teams and personnel. But we can buffer those impacts if we shift from a focus on scarcity, which engenders feelings of restriction and dread, and replace it with a planned focus on opportunities to shed that programmatic “clutter” in ways that help us serve students better in the long run.
Our book, Small Shifts, Meaningful Change, offers a protocol in Chapter 4 to help you bring all these ideas together to reimagine your resources as part of a single 90-minute meeting. You can find more free tools and discussion guides on Mira Education’s website or contact our team for advice and support.
I Remember, I Believe: One Teacher’s Networking Journey
The educators who taught and shaped me in my first years of schooling back in Detroit were Black teachers from the South, most of whom had been displaced by the South’s massive resistance backlash to the Brown decision. Along with the adults in my family, they gave me a love of education. That’s why as a new teacher in 1990, I was deeply troubled by the dissonance between those formative experiences and the stereotypes in popular culture (and within my teacher education program) of Black students as perpetually at-risk of academic failure, along with caricatures of Black educators as inherently inept. Networking with other teachers helped me confront those stereotypes and changed the course of my own career.
Network connections have paralleled my teaching career and propelled my growth as a teacher leader. About four years into teaching, as part of my graduate work through the Bread Loaf School of English, I helped pioneer the use of online exchanges to develop literacy skills among rural students via what was known then as the Bread Loaf Rural Teachers Network (BLRTN). Bread Loaf also introduced me to classroom action research, launching what would become a ten-year self-study about the teaching of Standard English to African American students. That research led to invitations to share at various venues. These opportunities mattered because there I could give voice and homage to the contributions of great African American teachers who had been denied their place in the professional legacy.
By the late 1990s, I was active in multiple teacher networks. One day I was invited to join the newly formed Teacher Leaders Network (TLN) sponsored by the Center for Teaching Quality, now Mira Education. Through TLN, I began my education blog, TeachMoore, and started working on Teacher Solution projects, tackling issues such as performance pay and teacher preparation. My participation in TLN and other networks also increased my opportunities to work with various groups addressing educational policy.
However, even years of professional accomplishments did not count when it came time to make the decisions that affected my own school and students. At one crucial juncture in my local school district, despite our students’ rising test scores, graduation rates, and college enrollment rates, the district hired a white consulting firm. The other teacher leaders and I were not just ignored but ordered to implement generic classroom practices from people unfamiliar with our students or our community. The high-quality, culturally-appropriate curriculum guides we had developed over two years (much of it on our own time) were discarded. The consultants were given the authority to monitor our classrooms and make sure we were teaching from the scripts they had given us. I share this cautionary tale because I’ve heard too many such stories from teacher leaders, especially from teachers of color, around the nation.
During this period, teacher networks were blooming, particularly on social media. Many were subject or location-specific, but most were true grassroot developments of teachers, particularly teacher leaders, trying to find each other and informally overlapping in membership and purpose. I think the growth was fueled by the joy of finding access to like-minded folk, or colleagues willing to share and listen.
I realized there were two significant differences between my highly accomplished African American teacher predecessors and me. Under the system of legal segregation, Black teachers (who were concentrated mostly in the South) had developed an extensive, sophisticated professional development network centered around the Black teacher associations (reverently referred to as “The Association.”) I had heard of this network and experienced its pedagogical products, but I entered the teaching profession after its dismemberment. The other difference between my highly accomplished mentors and me is that I have had access to venues and opportunities formerly closed to Black teachers, thanks primarily to their sacrifices and struggles. I vowed to use the platforms now opened to me to challenge the racist misperceptions of African American educators and our students.
A crucial step in that direction was the 2014-16 collaboration between Mira Education, the National Education Association (NEA), and the National Board for Professional Teaching Standards (NBPTS) to develop a social justice curriculum that eventually became part of the NEA’s Teacher Leadership Institute (TLI). While helping to develop and teach that curriculum, I witnessed the powerful potential of uniting three teacher networks (of which I was part) around specific work that would directly impact student learning and create more equitable learning environments for potentially thousands of children.
Black educators’ work and voices are still blocked at many levels. I risked censure or worse for my research and teaching practices which unapologetically built on the work of distinguished Black educators and researchers. Yet, my limited work on national and state levels suggests that one Black teacher from the Mississippi Delta can have some impact on policy and teaching. Imagine what an engaged network of such teachers could accomplish for the profession, for students.
It is significant that many of the most vibrant teacher networks and movements of the past decade, such as EduColor, had at their core people who crossed paths via the Teacher Leader Network and Mira Education. The networking of networks not only amplifies the work of those who are already teacher leaders but the healthy (often challenging) cross-pollination helped produce more leaders and networks. Networking with other teacher leaders and helping to mentor new ones has also provided critical leverage against marginalization and isolation, especially for those of us in rural settings.
Teacher leadership still remains widely underutilized and unrewarded in most school systems. However, unlike when I started teaching, we now have a generation of educators who believe becoming highly accomplished teachers, and teacher leaders are normal career expectations. It is also assumed that teacher leaders should intentionally grow in cultural proficiency and develop as advocates of social justice within their schools. Due in part to the work of teacher networks over the past twenty years, other Black teachers and I are reclaiming our pedagogical heritage and re-asserting its value for broader educational policy and teacher preparation.
To paraphrase the song “I Remember, I Believe” by Sweet Honey in the Rock, I do remember the struggles and contributions of my pedagogical elders, and I believe their work prophetically points us to how the teaching profession should look.
Micro-credentials and Education Policy in the United States: Recognizing Learning and Leadership for Our Nation’s Teachers
More districts and states are renewing exploration of micro-credentials as an option for personalized professional learning. But the right kind of policies are required to make the promise of micro-credentials fully scalable and systemic. This brief from CTQ and Digital Promise captures insights and essential questions for districts and states to consider.